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| It was the night before the composition was due. As I looked at the list of topics, "The Art of Eating Spaghetti (意大利面条)" caught my eye. The word "spaghetti" brought back the 1 of an evening at Uncle Alien's in Belleville 2 all of us were seated around the table and Aunt Pat 3 spaghetti for supper. Spaghetti was an exotic (外来的) treat in 4 days. Never had I eaten spaghetti, and 5 of the grown-ups had enough experience to be 6 it. What laughing 7 we had about the 8 respectable method for moving spaghetti from plate to mouth. 9 , I wanted to write about that, but I wanted to 10 it down simply for my own 11 not for Mr. Fleagle, my composition teacher. 12 , I would write something else. When I finished it the night was half gone and there was no 13 left to write a proper composition for Mr. Fleagle. There was no choice next morning but to 14 my work. Two days passed before Mr. Fleagle returned the 15 papers. He said, "Now, class, I want to read you a composition," "The Art of Eating Spaghetti". My words! He was reading my words out 16 to the whole class. 17 laughed, then the whole class was laughing with open-hearted enjoyment. I did my best not to show 18 , but what I was feeling was pure happiness, 19 my words had the power to make people 20 . | ||||
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