Mrs. Jones was over eighty, but she still drove her old car like a woman half her age. She loved driving very fast, and was proud of the fact 1 she had never, in her thirty-five years of driving, been punished 2 a driving offence (犯规，犯法).

    Then one day she nearly3 her record. A police car 4 her, and the policemen in it saw her5 a red light without stopping. Of course, she was stopped. It seemed 6 that she would be punished.

    7 Mrs. Jones came up to the judge, he looked at her seriously and said that she was  8 old to drive a car, and that the 9 why she had not stopped at the red 10was most probably that her eyes had become weak 11 old age, so that she had simply not seen it.

    When the judge had finished what he was 12, Mrs. Jones opened the big handbag she was 13 and took out her sewing. Without saying a word, she 14 a needle with a very small eye, and threaded it at her first attempt.

    When she had 15 done this, she took the thread out of the needle again and handed 16 the needle and the thread to the judge, saying, “Now it is your 17I suppose you drive a car, and that you are quite sure about your own eyesight.”

    The judge took the 18 and tried to thread it. After half a dozen tries, he had still not succeeded. The case (案例) against Mrs. Jones was19, and her record20 unbroken.

如图甲所示，为测量滑轮组机械效率的实验装置，钩码总重9N．

拼一拼，填一填。 

　cuì niǎo     chèn shān  dǒu qiào    qīng cuì

　____    ____    ____    ____ 

    wěi gǎn     zhù shì      yú wēng   dàng yàng

　____    ____    ____    ____ 

如果复数$z=\left(a^2-3a+2\right)+\left(a-1\right)i$为纯虚数,则实数$a$的值 (    )

阅读下面的文章，完成各题。

听雨

叶延滨

    写下这个题目，便不自觉地在心里吟诵起那些熟悉的诗篇，而且大多是古人的句子。雨，大概是古典的。而且常常当人们进入一种诗化的境况，才会从喧嚣的市井声浪里逃出来，逃出来的耳朵才能听雨。听雨有三个条件：第一是心静而神动，心静者不为市井或朝野的得失荣辱而悲喜，心平如水，不起波澜；神动者，是心神与自然呼应，天地万象，胸中百感，互交互合。第二是独处一室，或书房与书为侣，或山中小亭坐对群峰。第三是有雨。说到这里，话题的主角就出来了，听雨者，与雨为友，其喜怒哀乐，无不是因雨而起。

    我赶走那些如雨脚一般敲击我心窗的诗句，它们虽美，但吟哦的是他人心曲。雨声已经伴千载百代的人，抒发自己的情怀。像永不退场的乐师，耐心地为一个又一个的登台者伴奏，他只是在人们不觉察之中，调动自己的琴弦。“疏雨漏梧桐，春水洗杏花，剑门斜雨，古城涤尘轻。……”这些都是人们久唱而常新的曲子，它们让我们只能相信，雨声是个能为每一个人伴奏的好乐师。

    这是六月，久旱无雨的京城，下起第一场透雨，雷声沉沉地滚过，把都市里嘈杂的市声驱走，然后是闪电，是风。好风啊，让窗外一排高高的杨树，起舞俯仰地欢迎，满世界都是叶子的笑声!然后急急敲下一排雨脚，如碎玉，如奔马，如瀑布狂泻——

……

    我躺在床上，听雨声从窗外跳进屋里来，又沿着白石灰抹的老墙往上爬，爬出一道道渍印。这是我最早的记忆，好像是我们搬进那座南方老城一条叫斌升巷的窄街。那是一个旧公馆，房子是木结构为主的，木框里砌上转抹上白灰。我们的房子背墙临街，墙的上部有两只小窗，用来通气透光的。小窗很高，又从不开，布一张挂满灰尘的蛛网，让人想到许多故事。故事是雨声送进来的，这是我对这个世界最早的印象：雨夜里两只高墙上的窗，窗上挂着一张蛛网，网不住的雨声和更声漏湿了童年。（前两年我调出这个城市，妻子说我不喜欢这个让雨水锈满青苔的老城。）

……

    我有一段让大雨泡着的记忆，那是1966年秋。那年本是我参加高考升大学的日子，“文化大革命”一声炮响，升学成了泡影，父母又先后被“革命群众”揪了出来，我被派到川滇边界山区农村“搞社教”。正是屋漏偏遇连阴雨的时候，在山区待的几个月，也没有见到几回晴朗的天。心里下着雨，外面也是雨，风声雨声，让人心怵。山区搞运动，免不了天天晚上的会。山里人住得分散，一家守一个山头，我这个小工作队员，每天就戴一顶大斗笠，提一盏马灯，风中雨中满山地转悠。田坎又窄又滑，一下雨就变成了鳝鱼背，真不知一天摔多少跤。啊，这也许是我命运的象征：漫天风雨，长夜窄路，一盏孤灯，一张不知是雨水还是泪水洗了百遍的脸。（到现在说到 “文化大革命”，我的耳边就响起一片暴雨在一只斗笠上踢踏的声浪。）

……

    我对雨声的记忆不全是灰色的，有苦味的记忆，也有温馨的时候。那是在陕北，夏天终日在秃山峁劳作的我们，就像在火炉上烘着的红薯，每天都盼望着天上有块能下雨的云。高原的雨少，下一次就真叫恩赐。下雨可以不出工，可以凉凉地躺在炕上，听雨声让高原有了笑语，听苞谷拔节的脆响，让自己干涸的心，也有一个绿草般的梦。（庄稼人听雨能听出的快乐，这种快乐进城后就少了，至少不是那带着土味和草味的快乐了。）

    听雨，是听时间的脚步声，只是各人有各人的雨声，这是我刚刚想明白的。