I have a vivid recollection of a summer evening when I had to carry out a rumenotomy on a cow. As a rule I was inclined to play

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问题     I have a vivid recollection of a summer evening when I had to carry out a rumenotomy on a cow. As a rule I was inclined to play for time when I suspected a foreign body there were so many other conditions with similar symptoms that I was never in a hurry to make a hole in the animal’s side. But this time, diagnosis was easy: the sudden fall in milk yield, loss of cudding(bringing back the food from the stomach to the mouth to chew again): grunting, and the rigid, sunken-eyed appearance of the cow. And to clinch it the farmer told me he had been repairing a hen house in the cow pasture—nailing up loose boards. I knew where one of the nail had gone.
    The farm, right on the main street of the village, was a favorite meeting place for the local lads. As I laid out my instruments on a clean towel draped over a straw bale a row of grinning faces watched from above the half door of the box: not only watched but encouraged me with ribald shouts. When I was about ready to start it occurred to me that an extra pair of hands would be helpful, and I turned to the door, "how would one of your lads like to be my assistant?" There was even more shouting for a minute or more, then the door was opened, and a huge young man with a shock of red hair ambled into the box: he was a magnificent sight with his vast shoulders and the column of sunburned neck rising from the open shirt. It needed only the bright blue eyes and the ruddy, high check-boned face to remind me that the Norsemen had been around the Dales a thousand years ago. This was a Viking.
    I had him roll up his sleeves and scrub his hands in a bucket of warm water and antiseptic while I infiltrated the cow’s flank with local anaesthetic(a drug that causes temporary loss of bodily sensations). When I gave him artery forceps and scissors to hold he pranced around, making stabbing motions at the cow and roaring with laughter.
    "Maybe you’d like to do the job yourself?" I asked. The Viking squared his great shoulders. "Aye, I’ll ’ave a go," and the heads above the door cheered lustily.
    As I finally poised my Bard Parker scalpel with its new razor-sharp blade over the cow, the air was thick with earthy witticisms. I had decided that this time I really made the bold incision(cutting)recommended in the surgery books: it was about time I advanced beyond the stage of pecking nervously at the skin. "A veritable blow," was how one learned author had described it. Well, that was how it was going to be.
    I touched the blade down on the clipped area of the flank and with a quick motion of the wrist laid open a ten-inch wound. I stood back for a few second admiring the clean-cut edges if the skin with only a few capillaries spurting on to the glistering, twitching abdominal muscles. At the same time I noticed that the laughter and shouting from the heads had been switched off and was replaced by an eerie silence broken only by a heavy, thudding sound from behind me.
    "Forceps please," I said, extending my hand back. But nothing happened. I looked around: the top of the half door was bare—not a head in sight. There was only the Viking spread-eagled in the middle of the floor, arms and legs flung wide, chin pointing to the floor. The attitude was so theatrical that I thought he was still acting the fool, but a closer examination erased all doubts: the Viking was out cold. He must have gone straight over backwards like a stricken oak.
    The farmer, a bent little man, who couldn’t have scaled much more than eight stones, had been steadying the cow’s head. He looked at me with the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Look like you and me for it, then, guvnor." He tied the halter to a ring on the wall, washing his hands methodically and took up his place at my side. Throughout the operation, he passed me my instruments, swabbed away the seeping blood and clipped the sutures, whistling tunelessly through his teeth in a bored manner: the only time he showed any real emotion was when I produced the offending nail from the depth of the reticulum(part of stomach). He raised his eyebrows slightly, said, "’ello, ello,’" then started whistling again.
    We were too busy to do anything for the Viking. Halfway through, he sat up, shook himself a few times then got to his feet and strolled with elaborate nonchalance out of the box. The poor fellow seemed to be hoping that perhaps we had noticed nothing unusual.
What is the tone of this story?

选项 A、Serious.
B、Humorous.
C、Critical.
D、Casual.

答案B

解析 推断题。从整个故事的发展情节和人物刻画,如the Viking的前后对比和the famer的冷漠、有趣,以及语言使用,比如某选词“like a stricken oak”,“acting the fool”,“the faintest flicker of amusement”可以看出,本故事的基调是幽默、讽刺的,故选[B]。
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