麥琪的禮物原文英語閱讀

『壹』 跪求《麥琪的禮物》英文和原文翻譯 懸賞 急~急~急~急！！！！！！！

THE GIFT OF THE MAGIOne dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty- seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.
There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.
While the mistress of the home is graally subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad.
In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name "Mr. James Dillingham Young."
The "Dillingham" had been flung to the breeze ring a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid per week. Now, when the income was shrunk to , though, they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introced to you as Della. Which is all very good.
Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the window and looked out lly at a gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only .87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn't go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only .87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling--something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.
There was a pier-glass between the windows of the room. Perhaps you have seen a pier-glass in an flat. A very thin and very agile person may, by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips, obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks. Della, being slender, had mastered the art.
Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.
Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim's gold watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's. The other was Della's hair. Had the queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty's jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.
So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.
On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.
Where she stopped the sign read: "Mne. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting. Madame, large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the "Sofronie."
"Will you buy my hair?" asked Della.
"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take yer hat off and let's have a sight at the looks of it."
Down rippled the brown cascade.
"Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the mass with a practised hand.
"Give it to me quick," said Della.
Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. Forget the hashed metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim's present.
She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain simple and chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation--as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Jim's. It was like him. Quietness and value--the description applied to both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 87 cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.
When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends--a mammoth task.
Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.
"If Jim doesn't kill me," she said to herself, "before he takes a second look at me, he'll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do--oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty- seven cents?"
At 7 o'clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops.

『貳』 麥琪的禮物的英文原文是什麼

歐·亨利《麥琪的禮物》的原文：
吉姆好像從恍惚之中醒來，把德拉緊緊地摟在懷里。現在，別著急，先讓我們花個十秒鍾從另一角度審慎地思索一下某些無關緊要的事。
房租每周八美元，或者一百萬美元——那有什麼差別呢？數學家或才子會給你錯誤的答案。麥琪帶來了寶貴的禮物，但就是缺少了那件東西。這句晦澀的話，下文將有所交代。
吉姆從大衣口袋裡掏出一個小包，扔在桌上。
「別對我產生誤會，德爾，」他說道，「無論剪發、修面，還是洗頭，我以為世上沒有什麼東西能降低一點點對我妻子的愛情。不過，你只要打開那包東西，就會明白剛才為什麼是我楞頭楞腦了。」
白皙的手指靈巧地解開繩子，打開紙包。緊接著是欣喜若狂的尖叫，哎呀！突然變成了女性神經質的淚水和哭泣，急需男主人千方百計的慰藉。
還是因為擺在桌上的梳子——全套梳子，包括兩鬢用的，後面的，樣樣俱全。那是很久以前德拉在百老匯的一個櫥窗里見過並羨慕得要死的東西。這些美妙的發梳，純玳瑁做的，邊上鑲著珠寶——其色彩正好同她失去的美發相匹配。
她明白，這套梳子實在太昂貴，對此，她僅僅是羨慕渴望，但從未想到過據為己有。現在，這一切居然屬於她了，可惜那有資格佩戴這垂涎已久的裝飾品的美麗長發已無影無蹤了。
不過，她依然把發梳摟在胸前，過了好一陣子才抬起淚水迷濛的雙眼，微笑著說：「我的頭發長得飛快，吉姆！」
隨後，德拉活像一隻被燙傷的小貓跳了起來，叫道，「喔！喔！」
吉姆還沒有瞧見他的美麗的禮物哩。她急不可耐地把手掌攤開，伸到他面前，那沒有知覺的貴重金屬似乎閃現著她的歡快和熱忱。
「漂亮嗎，吉姆？我搜遍了全城才找到了它。現在，你每天可以看一百飢陸吵次時間了。把表給我，我要看看它配在表上的樣子。」
吉姆非但不按她的吩咐行事，反而倒在睡椅上，兩手枕在頭下，微微發笑。
「德爾，」他說，「讓我們把聖誕禮物放在一邊，保存一會兒爛侍吧。它們實在太好了，目前尚不宜用。我賣掉金錶，換錢為你買了發梳。現在，你做肉排吧。」
正如諸位所知，麥琪是聰明人，聰明絕頂的人，他們把禮物帶來送給出生在馬槽里的耶穌。他們發明送聖誕禮物這玩意兒。由於他們是聰明人，毫無疑問，他們的禮物也是聰明的禮物，如果碰上兩樣東西完全一樣，可能還具有交換的權利。
在這兒，我已經笨拙地給你們介紹了住公寓套間的兩個傻孩子不足為奇的平淡故事，他們極不明智地為了對方而犧牲了他們家最最寶貴的東西。
不過，讓我們對現今的聰明人說最後一句話，在一切饋贈禮品的人當中，那兩個人是最聰明的。
在一切饋贈又接收禮品的人當中，像他們兩個這樣的人也是最聰明的。無論在任何地方，他們都是最聰明的人。
他們就是聖賢。
擴悉攜展資料寫作背景：
講述了一對窮困的年輕夫婦忍痛割愛互贈聖誕禮物的故事，反映了美國下層人民生活的艱難，贊美了主人公善良的心地和純真愛情。
歐·亨利出生於美國的一個醫生家庭，幼年喪母，在其少年時期，家道沒落，15歲的他開始進入社會謀生，獨自承擔起生活的重任。
他做過葯房學徒，當過牧羊工，在銀行做過出納和會計的工作，在土地局當過辦事員。不同的工作經歷和生活體驗以及獨自一人在社會中闖盪使年幼的歐·亨利過早的體會到了生活的不易與艱辛。
在底層社會生活的他不僅要為生活的瑣事而操心，而且上層社會的剝奪與壓榨更讓他的生活窮困潦倒。生活在底層生活的歐·亨利自覺為小人物立言，自命是紐約四百多萬貧民的代表。
作者的生存環境與所處的階層在《麥琪的禮物》這篇小說中都有所體現，主人公所處的社會階級以及生活的艱苦與辛酸也是歐·亨利的個人寫照。
19世紀的美國資本主義壟斷正在急劇發展，企業和工廠的資本家為了獲得更高的利潤加大了對工人的壓榨，社會的貧富懸殊越來嚴重，而作家歐·亨利的妻子正是在這一時期去世的，經濟能力較差的歐·亨利與妻子艾斯蒂斯相識於一次舞會並相愛。
但是艾斯蒂斯的家人十分反對，艾斯蒂斯最終不顧家人的意見與歐·亨利結為了夫妻，盡管日子艱辛但卻幸福甜蜜，後期歐·亨利由於被懷疑拖欠銀行一筆錢而離開病重的妻子，到鄉下避難，直至妻子去世都沒有見到最後一面，《麥琪的禮物》是對妻子的愧疚與思念的見證。
在創作動力源泉上來源於對美國底層社會生活的解剖和反映，尤其是對於美國貧富懸殊的一種揭露，並將這與愛情、親情以及生活中的各個細節聯系起來，尤其是在作品的整體藝術表達中，這些都源於歐·亨利對妻子的緬懷。
歐·亨利以廣大下層人民群眾困苦生活中的美好愛情為主題。對當時金錢至上的資本主義社會進行了尖銳和辛辣的諷刺，對廣大人民群眾悲苦人生掙扎中的互相關心和自我犧牲精神以及患難之中見真情的美好愛情加以了贊頌。
它生生不息的藝術魅力就在於作者把人物的性格特徵放在情節中展示，注重故事中人物的行動，從而揭示出主人公勇於奉獻的性格特徵和他們之間可歌可泣的純朴愛情。
吉姆和德拉，即使只是生活在社會底層的小人物，卻擁有著對生活的熱情和對對方的深愛，在這些溫暖的感情面前，貧困可以變得微不足道。雖然最終彼此的禮物對於對方而言已失去使用價值，但是德拉和吉姆卻得到了人世間比禮物更寶貴的東西，那就是無價的愛。

『叄』 有誰知道這篇英語短文是關於送禮物的文章

歐亨利的《麥琪的禮物》

THE GIFT OF THE MAGI
by O. Henry
One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty- seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.
There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.

While the mistress of the home is graally subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad.

In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name "Mr. James Dillingham Young."

The "Dillingham" had been flung to the breeze ring a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the income was shrunk to $20, though, they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introced to you as Della. Which is all very good.

Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the window and looked out lly at a gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn't go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling--something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.

There was a pier-glass between the windows of the room. Perhaps you have seen a pier-glass in an $8 flat. A very thin and very agile person may, by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips, obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks. Della, being slender, had mastered the art.

Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.

Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim's gold watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's. The other was Della's hair. Had the queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty's jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.

So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.

On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.

Where she stopped the sign read: "Mne. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting. Madame, large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the "Sofronie."

"Will you buy my hair?" asked Della.

"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take yer hat off and let's have a sight at the looks of it."

Down rippled the brown cascade.

"Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the mass with a practised hand.

"Give it to me quick," said Della.

Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. Forget the hashed metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim's present.

She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain simple and chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation--as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Jim's. It was like him. Quietness and value--the description applied to both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 87 cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.

When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends--a mammoth task.

Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.

"If Jim doesn't kill me," she said to herself, "before he takes a second look at me, he'll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do--oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty- seven cents?"

At 7 o'clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops.

Jim was never late. Della doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit for saying little silent prayer about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."

The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two--and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.

Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.

Della wriggled off the table and went for him.

"Jim, darling," she cried, "don't look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold because I couldn't have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It'll grow out again--you won't mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say `Merry Christmas!' Jim, and let's be happy. You don't know what a nice-- what a beautiful, nice gift I've got for you."

"You've cut off your hair?" asked Jim, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor.

"Cut it off and sold it," said Della. "Don't you like me just as well, anyhow? I'm me without my hair, ain't I?"

Jim looked about the room curiously.

"You say your hair is gone?" he said, with an air almost of idiocy.

"You needn't look for it," said Della. "It's sold, I tell you--sold and gone, too. It's Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered," she went on with sudden serious sweetness, "but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?"

Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a million a year--what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on.

Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.

"Don't make any mistake, Dell," he said, "about me. I don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you'll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first."

White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.

For there lay The Combs--the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled rims--just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.

But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"

And them Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, "Oh, oh!"

Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The ll precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.

"Isn't it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."

Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.

"Dell," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on."

The magi, as you know, were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of plication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.

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精簡不就是從中截取一兩段嘛，別偷懶，把原文意思理解透了還怕什麼。實在看不懂就中文，這應該是英語四級的水平。