【正文】 it was an adult or juvenile. More interesting than the mammoth’s lineage, however, might be its story. The giant mammal lived 13,000 years ago or roughly the same timeline of the “Arlington Man”, a 13,000yearold human skeleton also found on Santa Rosa. Some 3,000 years later humans were already spread throughout the continent and the Channel Islands’ mammoth went extinct. The present finding might help reveal a link between the two. The remains also seem to confirm a longheld assumption that there were two mammoth migrations to the Channel Islands. “The discovery of this mammoth skull increases the probability that there were at least two migrations of Columbian mammoths to the island: during the most recent ice age 10,000 to 30,000 years ago, as well as the previous ice age that occurred about 150,000 years ago,” said USGS geologist Dan Muhs. 56. The underlined part in the first paragraph means the paleontologists feel _________. A. excited B. confused C. anxious D. frustrated 57. Which of the following is not among the reasons why the newly found skull is special? A. It is possibly the best preserved mammoth skulls. B. Its size fits neither the Columbian mammoth nor the pygmy mammoth. C. It was found on the Santa Rose Island, Califoria. D. Its two tusks give out different information of the mammoth’s age. 58. What can be inferred from the last three paragraphs? A. The examination of the mammoth’s teeth can tell us how old it was when it died. B. There may be a link between the extinction of mammoths and the spread of humans. C. At least two mammoth groups migrated to the Channel Islands during different periods of time. D. There remains no final conclusion as to how many mammoth groups migrated to the Islands. 59. This passage mainly tells us the newly found mammoth skull _________. A. is among the best preserved, but with a mysterious story B. has aroused a debate over what species it belongs to C. is of great scientific importance to mankind D. is likely to confirm a former assumption D I look back sometimes at the person I was before I rediscovered my old professor. I want to talk to that person. I want to tell him what to look out for, what mistakes to avoid. I want to tell him to be more open, to ignore the temptation of advertised values, to pay attention when your loved ones are speaking, as if it were the last time you might hear them. Mostly I want to tell that person to get on an airplane and visit a gentle old man in West Newton, Massachusetts, sooner rather than later, before that old man gets sick and loses his ability to dance. I know I cannot do this. None of us can undo what we’ve done, or relive a life already recorded. But if Professor Morrie Schwartz taught me anything at all, it was this: there is no such thing as “too late” in life. He was changing until the day he said goodbye. Not long after Morrie’s death, I reached my brother in Spain. We had a long talk. I told him I respected his distance, and that all I wanted was to be in touch—in the present, not just the past—to hold him in my life as much as he could let me. “You’re my only brother,” I said. “I don’t want to lose you. I love you.” I had never said such a thing to him before. A few days later, I received a message on my fax machine. It was typed in the sprawling, poorly punctuated, allcapletters fashion that always characterized my brother’s words. “HI I’VE JOINED THE NINETIES!” it began. He wrote a few little stories, what he’d been doing that week, a couple of jokes. At the end, he signed off this way: I HAVE HEARTBURN AND DIAHREA(腹瀉 ) AT THE MOMENT—LIFE’S A BITCH. CHAT LATER? [signed] SORE TUSH. I laughed until there were tears in my eyes. This book was largely Morrie’s idea. He called it our “final thesis.” Like the best of work projects, it brought us closer together, and Morrie was delighted when several publishers expressed interest, even though he died before meeting any of them. The advance money helped pay Morrie’s enormous medical bills, and for that we were both grateful. The title, by the way, we came up with one day in Morrie’s office. He liked naming things. He had several ideas. But when I said, “How about Tuesdays with Morrie?” he smiled in an almost blushing way, and I knew that was it. After Morrie died, I went through boxes of old college material. And I discovered a final paper I had written for one of his classes. It was twenty years old now. On the front page were my penciled ments scribbled to Morrie, and beneath them were his ments scribbled back. Mine began, “Dear Coach . . .” His began, “Dear Player . . .” For some reason, each time I read that, I miss him more. Have you ever really had a teacher? One who saw you as a raw but precious thing, a jewel that, with wisdom, could be polished to a proud shine? If you are lucky enough to find your way to such teachers, you will always find your way back. Sometimes it is only in your head. Sometimes it is right alongside their beds. The last class of my old professor’s life took place once a week, in his home, by a window in his study where he could watch a small hibiscus(木槿 ) plant shed its pink flowers. The class met on Tuesdays. No books were required. The subject was the meaning of life. It was taught from experience. The teaching goes on. 60. What kind of a person was the author before he rediscovered Professor Morrie Schwartz? A. He was very open to life’s challenges. B. He cared much about the people he loved. C. He was probaby lost in the material world. D. He kept close contact with his teacher. 61. What did the author learn from Professor Morrie? A. Pain past is pleasure. B. Life is a difficult journey. C. It’s never too late to mend. D. Tomorrow is another day. 62. Ac