B
I grew up in libraries, or at least it feels that way. I went there several times a week with my mother when I was young. Those visits were dreamy. The library might have been the first place I was ever given autonomy. In the library, I could have anything I wanted. And on the ride home, my mom and I would talk about the order in which we were going to read our books, a solemn conversation in which we planned how to pace ourselves through this charming period of grace until the books were due.
When I left for college, one of the many ways I differentiated myself from my mom was that I went wild for owning books. All I know is that I lost my appreciation for the slow pace of making my way through a library and for having books on borrowed time. If my mother ever mentioned to me that she was on the waiting list for some book at the library, I got annoyed and asked why she didn’t just go buy it.
But in 2011, one of my son’s school assignments was to interview someone who worked for the city. He said he wanted to interview a librarian. As my son and I drove to meet the librarian，I was flooded by a sense of absolute familiarity，a recollection of this journey, of parent and child on their way to the library. I had taken this trip so many times before，but now it was turned on its head, and I was the parent bringing my child on that special trip.
As I walked into the library, nothing had changed—the sense of gentle, steady busyness, like a pot of water on a rolling boil, was just the same. In the library, time is dammed up—not just stopped but saved. I knew what hooked me was the shock of familiarity I felt---the way it telegraphed my childhood, my relationship to my mom, my love of books. However, as I was rediscovering those memories, my mother was losing all of hers. The writer Amadou Hampate Ba once said that in Africa, when an old person dies, it is like a library has burned. But if you can take something from his or her internal collection and share it, it takes on a life of its own.
24. What can be inferred about her childhood from paragraph 1?
A. She lived near a library. B. She possessed a library.
C. She often made reading plans. D. She enjoyed reading in libraries.
25. How did the author change after entering college?
A. She lost her enthusiasm for reading.
B. She did not return books on due time.
C. She quit the habit of going to libraries.
D. She wanted to buy books for her mom.
26. What did the author rediscover when she walked into the library with her son?
A. Her love for libraries. B. Her delight in owning books.
C. Her lost memory of her mom. D. Her familiarity with her mom.
27. Which can be the title of this passage?
A. The library: a world of knowledge
B. The library: a place of memory
C. The library: a busy place
D. The library: an old man
我是在图书馆长大的，至少我有这样的感觉。我小时候每周和妈妈去那里好几次。那些访问是梦幻般的。图书馆可能是我第一次获得自治权。在图书馆里，我可以得到我想要的任何东西。在回家的路上，我妈妈和我会谈论我们读书的顺序，一个严肃的谈话，我们计划如何在这段迷人的优雅时期中步调一致，直到书到期。
当我去上大学的时候，我和我妈妈的区别之一是我疯狂地拥有书籍。我只知道，我失去了欣赏缓慢的步伐，我通过图书馆和有借来的时间书籍。如果我母亲告诉我她在图书馆等书，我会很生气，问她为什么不直接去买。
但在2011年，我儿子的一项学校作业是采访一位在这座城市工作的人。他说他想采访一位图书管理员。当我和儿子开车去见图书管理员时，我被一种完全熟悉的感觉淹没了，一种对这次旅行的回忆，一种对父母和孩子去图书馆途中的回忆。我以前多次参加这趟旅行，但现在它已经被翻了个底朝天，我是带着我的孩子参加那次特别旅行的家长。
当我走进图书馆的时候，没有什么改变了那种温柔、沉稳的忙碌的感觉，就像一壶水在滚滚的沸水上，一模一样。在图书馆里，时间不仅被堵住了，而且被节省了。我知道是什么让我着迷的是我感觉到的熟悉的震撼——它电告我的童年，我和妈妈的关系，我对书的热爱。然而，当我重新找回那些记忆时，我母亲失去了她的所有。作家阿马杜·汉帕特·巴（Amadou Hampate Ba）曾经说过，在非洲，当一个老人去世时，就像一座图书馆被烧毁一样。但如果你能从他或她的内部收藏中获取一些东西并与之分享，它就拥有了自己的生命。
24. D 由文章第一段中的第一句话I grew up in libraries, or at least it feels that way.可知答案；
25. C 由文章第二段中的第一句话When I left for college, one of the many ways I differentiated myself from my mom was that I went wild for owning books. 可知答案；
26. A 由文章第三段中的As my son and I drove to meet the librarian，I was flooded by a sense of absolute familiarity，a recollection of this journey, of parent and child on their way to the library. I had taken this trip so many times before，可知答案；
27. B 由文章第一段中的第一句话As I walked into the library, nothing had changed；可知答案；也用另外一种方式：把上面三道题的信息相加可知答案；
I grew up in libraries, or at least it feels that way. I went there several times a week with my mother when I was young. Those visits were dreamy. The library might have been the first place I was ever given autonomy. In the library, I could have anything I wanted. And on the ride home, my mom and I would talk about the order in which we were going to read our books, a solemn conversation in which we planned how to pace ourselves through this charming period of grace until the books were due.
When I left for college, one of the many ways I differentiated myself from my mom was that I went wild for owning books. All I know is that I lost my appreciation for the slow pace of making my way through a library and for having books on borrowed time. If my mother ever mentioned to me that she was on the waiting list for some book at the library, I got annoyed and asked why she didn’t just go buy it.
But in 2011, one of my son’s school assignments was to interview someone who worked for the city. He said he wanted to interview a librarian. As my son and I drove to meet the librarian，I was flooded by a sense of absolute familiarity，a recollection of this journey, of parent and child on their way to the library. I had taken this trip so many times before，but now it was turned on its head, and I was the parent bringing my child on that special trip.
As I walked into the library, nothing had changed—the sense of gentle, steady busyness, like a pot of water on a rolling boil, was just the same. In the library, time is dammed up—not just stopped but saved. I knew what hooked me was the shock of familiarity I felt---the way it telegraphed my childhood, my relationship to my mom, my love of books. However, as I was rediscovering those memories, my mother was losing all of hers. The writer Amadou Hampate Ba once said that in Africa, when an old person dies, it is like a library has burned. But if you can take something from his or her internal collection and share it, it takes on a life of its own.
24. What can be inferred about her childhood from paragraph 1?
A. She lived near a library. B. She possessed a library.
C. She often made reading plans. D. She enjoyed reading in libraries.
25. How did the author change after entering college?
A. She lost her enthusiasm for reading.
B. She did not return books on due time.
C. She quit the habit of going to libraries.
D. She wanted to buy books for her mom.
26. What did the author rediscover when she walked into the library with her son?
A. Her love for libraries. B. Her delight in owning books.
C. Her lost memory of her mom. D. Her familiarity with her mom.
27. Which can be the title of this passage?
A. The library: a world of knowledge
B. The library: a place of memory
C. The library: a busy place
D. The library: an old man
我是在图书馆长大的，至少我有这样的感觉。我小时候每周和妈妈去那里好几次。那些访问是梦幻般的。图书馆可能是我第一次获得自治权。在图书馆里，我可以得到我想要的任何东西。在回家的路上，我妈妈和我会谈论我们读书的顺序，一个严肃的谈话，我们计划如何在这段迷人的优雅时期中步调一致，直到书到期。
当我去上大学的时候，我和我妈妈的区别之一是我疯狂地拥有书籍。我只知道，我失去了欣赏缓慢的步伐，我通过图书馆和有借来的时间书籍。如果我母亲告诉我她在图书馆等书，我会很生气，问她为什么不直接去买。
但在2011年，我儿子的一项学校作业是采访一位在这座城市工作的人。他说他想采访一位图书管理员。当我和儿子开车去见图书管理员时，我被一种完全熟悉的感觉淹没了，一种对这次旅行的回忆，一种对父母和孩子去图书馆途中的回忆。我以前多次参加这趟旅行，但现在它已经被翻了个底朝天，我是带着我的孩子参加那次特别旅行的家长。
当我走进图书馆的时候，没有什么改变了那种温柔、沉稳的忙碌的感觉，就像一壶水在滚滚的沸水上，一模一样。在图书馆里，时间不仅被堵住了，而且被节省了。我知道是什么让我着迷的是我感觉到的熟悉的震撼——它电告我的童年，我和妈妈的关系，我对书的热爱。然而，当我重新找回那些记忆时，我母亲失去了她的所有。作家阿马杜·汉帕特·巴（Amadou Hampate Ba）曾经说过，在非洲，当一个老人去世时，就像一座图书馆被烧毁一样。但如果你能从他或她的内部收藏中获取一些东西并与之分享，它就拥有了自己的生命。
24. D 由文章第一段中的第一句话I grew up in libraries, or at least it feels that way.可知答案；
25. C 由文章第二段中的第一句话When I left for college, one of the many ways I differentiated myself from my mom was that I went wild for owning books. 可知答案；
26. A 由文章第三段中的As my son and I drove to meet the librarian，I was flooded by a sense of absolute familiarity，a recollection of this journey, of parent and child on their way to the library. I had taken this trip so many times before，可知答案；
27. B 由文章第一段中的第一句话As I walked into the library, nothing had changed；可知答案；也用另外一种方式：把上面三道题的信息相加可知答案；
