Whenever I spread marmalade(橘子酱), I think of my mother. She was a wonderful woman, a five-foot-tall angel. She even befriended a skunk(臭鼬).

One day she was out back picking beans when she turned to see a skunk no more than a yard away. The skunk had a marmalade jar stuck on his nose. Mother took pity on him. Stillon her knees, she inched across the grass, reached out, and turned the jar very carefully. The jar slid off. The skunk nodded a thank-you, then turned and slipped into the woods at the back of the garden. None of spraying(喷)business. Not on my wonderful mother. She told that story over and over. And she always called the skunk Marmalade.

That’s not all. There was the time, maybe three summers later, when I was about twelve. It was a rainy morning. Dad went to work, and Mother went shopping. My friend Rob came over so we could run the electric train in my room. All of a sudden, a scratching sound came from the attic(阁楼).

“Sounds like some kind of animal, ” Rob said. “Yeah. Let’s take a look. ”

Out in the hall, I opened the attic door—very slowly. The noise stopped. I climbed a few steps. My eyes were at floor level. I saw nothing but boxes and trunks and an old dollhouse. I climbed to the top of the stairs with Rob after me.

Silence.

“Let’s look around, ”I said.

I found the animal behind a box near the chimney. You guessed it. Black with a white stripe down its back. Was he scared? You bet. At least that’s how I remember it.

I backed away. Would he spray me? Do skunks bite?

“Hey, Rob. I found him. Let’s go to figure out a plan to get him out of here. ”We climbed down the steps quietly.

“It’s a skunk, ”I said. “It might even be Marmalade. ”“Marmalade?”

I explained. But was this really the same skunk? Would he remember?

Teddy was a bear of habit. Every morning he woke up at the same time, stretched, scratched, and yawned（打哈欠）. Every morning the bees in his yard delivered three jars of honey so that Teddy ate the same breakfast he’d eaten since he was a hairy baby: toast a honey and tea with extra honey.

Next came his daily routine: practicing the rolling skill and running errands（做杂事）. At night he’d read, and then have one last cup of honey tea before bed.

Life was sweet. Until one morning ...

One morning something abnormal had happened. There was no honey. The bees had gone on strike!

Teddy’s breakfast wasn’t the same without honey. Without his honey tea, he couldn’t practice rolling, or run errands, or read at night. Teddy became deeply discouraged.

Just then he heard someone say, “Hey, you! In the fur coat! ” It was a very small bee with a very loud voice. “We need to talk! ” said the bee.

“Talk? Hmmph! ” complained Teddy. “I let you all live in my yard. All I ask for is a few jars of honey. You should be grateful rather than strike! ”

“A few jars? ” said the bee. “Buddy, we deliver three jars of honey to you every day, every month, every year! Do the maths, Einstein. ”

“The hive（蜂巢）is in ruins! ” the bee continued. “It’s all we can do to keep the walls from falling in! The roof leaks! Wind blows through the holes! ”

The bee showed Teddy the garden. “Look! ”the bee said. “Weeds everywhere. We have to fly miles away to find enough flowers to make our honey. So we voted to strike. ”

“You are taking us for granted. ” the bee declared. “You want honey? We won’t come back unless things have changed. It’s up to you, bear. ” And with that, the very small bee flew off.

The thought of losing his honey upset Teddy greatly. He sat down to think about the situation. “Maybe I’ve been too selfish. ” Teddy said to himself. “I’ve never thought about what the bees need. How can I make this right? ”

Soon Teddy had an idea of what to do.

Spring came and Teddy was expecting the bees.

Ben was awakened by a gunshot. The sharp noise came through the thick stonewalls of the house. It was cold in the bedroom and Ben was shaking as he got out of bed. He put on his eyeglasses and went over to the window. The field was covered with white frost, Nothing moved out there in the deep quiet just before sunrise.

Ben wondered where the shot had come from. He thought perhaps he had dreamed he heard a gunshot. He looked out toward the frozen lake. Near the trees he saw a shining piece of metal. When it moved, Ben saw that it was a long gun. A minute later a man came out of the woods. He wore hunting clothes. Suddenly a bird flew upward. The man quickly put the gun to his shoulder and shot. Ben watched the bird, praying it had not been hurt. It flew near the ground and went into some tall grass. Safe, Ben thought.

The hunter did not move for a moment, and then he began to follow the bird. Hate for the hunter burned inside of Ben. "Hey!”he shouted .His voice cut through the stillness. The hunter stopped, but then continued to follow the bird. Ben shouted again, but this time the hunter did not stop and Ben started to move toward him. The hunter looked back at Ben. Ben had just bought this house in the woods. He wanted to protect everything on his land. He thought that everyone would obey the signs:＂No Hunting.”

However, he heard another gunshot. This troubled him deeply. How could he stop this hunter? He walked toward the lake. He did not want to fight, but the man must go. He walked quietly. He wanted to surprise the hunter. But then, what would he do? He could not fight the hunter.

Suddenly he heard a bird's wings beating the dry grass.

There was something threatening in the man's cool quiet voice.