Ⅰ 推薦一些英文短篇小說
相信你會喜歡這篇短小的小說的。
Appointment With Love －－By Sulamith Ish-Kishor
Six minutes to six, said the great round clock over the information booth in Grand Central Station. The tall young Army lieutenant who had just come from the direction of the tracks lifted his sunburned face, and his eyes narrowed to note the exact time. His heart was pounding with a beat that shocked him because he could not control it. In six minutes, he would see the woman who had filled such a special place in his life for the past 13 months, the woman he had never seen, yet whose written words had been with him and sustained him unfailingly.
He placed himself as close as he could to the information booth, just beyond the ring of people besieging the clerks...
Lieutenant Blandford remembered one night in particular, the worst of the fighting, when his plane had been caught in the midst of a pack of Zeros. He had seen the grinning face of one of the enemy pilots.
In one of his letters, he had confessed to her that he often felt fear, and only a few days before this battle, he had received her answer: "Of course you fear...all brave men do. Didn't King David know fear? That's why he wrote the 23rd Psalm. Next time you doubt yourself, I want you to hear my voice reciting to you: 'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for Thou art with me.'" And he had remembered; he had heard her imagined voice, and it had renewed his strength and skill.
Now he was going to hear her real voice. Four minutes to six. His face grew sharp.
Under the immense, starred roof, people were walking fast, like threads of color being woven into a gray web. A girl passed close to him, and Lieutenant Blandford started. She was wearing a red flower in her suit lapel, but it was a crimson sweet pea, not the little red rose they had agreed upon. Besides, this girl was too young, about 18, whereas Hollis Meynell had frankly told him she was 30. "Well, what of it?" he had answered. "I'm 32." He was 29.
His mind went back to that book - the book the Lord Himself must have put into his hands out of the hundreds of Army library books sent to the Florida training camp. Of Human Bondage, it was; and throughout the book were notes in a woman's writing. He had always hated that writing-in habit, but these remarks were different. He had never believed that a woman could see into a man's heart so tenderly, so understandingly. Her name was on the bookplate: Hollis Meynell. He had got hold of a New York City telephone book and found her address. He had written, she had answered. Next day he had been shipped out, but they had gone on writing.
For 13 months, she had faithfully replied, and more than replied. When his letters did not arrive she wrote anyway, and now he believed he loved her, and she loved him.
But she had refused all his pleas to send him her photograph. That seemed rather bad, of course. But she had explained: "If your feeling for me has any reality, any honest basis, what I look like won't matter. Suppose I'm beautiful. I'd always be haunted by the feeling that you had been taking a chance on just that, and that kind of love would disgust me. Suppose I'm plain (and you must admit that this is more likely). Then I'd always fear that you were going on writing to me only because you were lonely and had no one else. No, don't ask for my picture. When you come to New York, you shall see me and then you shall make your decision. Remember, both of us are free to stop or to go on after that - whichever we choose..."
One minute to six - Lieutenant Blandford's heart leaped higher than his plane had ever done.
A young woman was coming toward him. Her figure was long and slim; her blond hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears. Her eyes were blue as flowers, her lips and chin had a gentle firmness. In her pale green suit, she was like springtime come alive.
He started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was wearing no rose, and as he moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips.
"Going my way, soldier?" she murmured.
Uncontrollably, he made one step closer to her. Then he saw Hollis Meynell.
She was standing almost directly behind the girl, a woman well past 40, her graying hair tucked under a worn hat. She was more than plump; her thick-ankled feet were thrust into low-heeled shoes. But she wore a red rose in the rumpled lapel of her brown coat.
The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away.
Blandford felt as though he were being split in two, so keen was his desire to follow the girl, yet so deep was his longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned and upheld his own; and there she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and sensible; he could see that now. Her gray eyes had a warm, kindly twinkle.
Lieutenant Blandford did not hesitate. His fingers gripped the small worn, blue leather of Of Human Bondage, which was to identify him to her. This would not be love, but it would be something precious, something perhaps even rarer than love - a friendship for which he had been and must ever be grateful.
He squared his broad shoulders, saluted and held the book out toward the woman, although even while he spoke he felt shocked by the bitterness of his disappointment.
"I'm Lieutenant John Blandford, and you - you are Miss Meynell. I'm so glad you could meet me. May...may I take you to dinner?"
The woman's face broadened in a tolerant smile. "I don't know what this is all about, son," she answered. "That young lady in the green suit - the one who just went by - begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said that if you asked me to go out with you, I should tell you that she's waiting for you in that big restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of a test. I've got two boys with Uncle Sam myself, so I didn't mind to oblige you."
Ⅱ 英語短篇故事
1.Once a fox invited a stork to dinner. He put nothing on the table except some soup in a very shallow dish.
The fox could easily lap up the soup, but the stork could only wet the end of her long bill in it. When she left the meal, she was still very hungry. "I am sorry," said the fox, "the soup is not to your taste."
"Please do not apologize," said the stork. "I hope you will come to my house, and dine with me soon."
A few days later the fox visited the stork. He found that his food was put in a long bottle, and the mouth of the bottle was very narrow. He could not insert his big mouth into it, so he ate nothing.
"I will not apologize," said the stork. "One bad turn deserves another."
一次，狐狸請鸛來吃飯。他除了淺盤子中的一點湯以外，什麼也沒有準備。
狐狸可以輕而易舉地喝到湯，但是鸛只夠蘸濕他長長的嘴尖。吃完飯後，鸛仍舊很飢餓。"很抱歉！"狐狸說，"這湯不合你的口味"。
"別客氣，"鸛說，"過幾天請到我家來和我一起吃飯吧。"
幾天後，狐狸應邀而至，他發現食物都裝在一個長長的瓶子里，而瓶口很細，他無法將他的大嘴伸進去，什麼也吃不到。
"我不想道歉，這是你應得的回報。"鸛說。
2.A woman was singing. One of the guests turned to a man
by his side and criticized the singer.
"What a terrible voice!"he said. "Do you know who she is?"
"yes." was the answer,"she is my wife."
"Oh,I beg your parden," the man said. "Of course her voice
isn't bad, but the song is very bad. I wondered who wrote that awful song?"
" I did," was the answer.
有一個婦女在唱歌。一個賓館的客人對旁邊的男人問道：「這是多麼可怕的歌聲啊，你知道她是誰？」
「是的」，男人回答到「他是我妻子」。
「OH，我的兄弟，其實她的聲音並不難聽，主要是這歌詞寫的不好，是誰寫的這么可怕的歌詞？」
「我寫的」男人回答道.
Ⅲ 英語短篇小說
你可以抄看「書蟲」
書蟲」是外語教襲學與研究出版社和牛津大學出版社共同奉獻給廣大英語學習者的一大精品。書蟲在英語中大概是頗可愛的形象。想像一下，有那麼一隻勤勉的小蟲，它如痴如醉地沉迷於書卷，孜孜不倦地咀嚼著字母……
如今這只「書蟲」漂洋過海，輕盈地落在了中國英語學習者的掌中。「書蟲」首先將給你自信，即使你目前只有幾百的詞彙量，也可以不太費勁地閱覽世界名作了。書蟲還會用它細細的鳴叫聲不停地提醒你：要堅持不懈地讀下去，要廣泛而豐富地讀下去。待到讀完叢書系列中的最後一本，你也許會突然發現：你已經如蛹畫碟，振翅欲翔了！
第五級：2000生詞量，適合高一學生，共4本。
1、《遠大前程》 （已收錄）
2、《大衛·科波菲爾》 （已收錄）
3、《呼嘯山莊》 （已收錄）
4、《遠離塵囂》 （已收錄）
第六級：2300生詞量，適合高二、高三學生，共4本
1、《簡·愛》
2、《霧都孤兒》 （已收錄）
3、《傲慢與偏見》
4、《苔絲》 （已收錄）
Ⅳ 介紹幾部經典英文短篇小說
《歐亨利短篇小說精選》歐·亨利最優秀的多篇短篇小說代表作，如《麥琪版的禮物》、《警察權和贊美詩》、《最後一片常春藤葉》、《帶傢具出租的房問》等。這些作品膾灸人口，經久不衰。歐·亨利是美國最著名的短篇小說家之一。他的作品構思新穎。語言詼諧，富於生活情趣，結局常常出人意外，善於描寫美國社會尤其是紐約百姓的生活，堪稱「美國生活的幽默網路全書」。
Ⅳ 求一篇英語中短篇小說（2000字左右，最好是帶中文翻譯的）
Ⅵ 求1000字以內英語短篇小說！
《蒙娜麗莎》風波
On Tuesday August 11th, 1911, a young artist, Louis Beraud, arrived at the Louvre（盧浮宮） in Paris to complete a painting of the Salon Carre（卡雷沙龍，盧浮宮的畫廊名）. This was the room where the world 's most famous painting, the Mona Lisa by Leonardo da Vinci（列奧那多·達·芬奇）, was on display. To his surprise there was an empty space where the painting should have been. At 11 o'clock the museum authorities realized that the painting had been stolen. The next day headlines all over the world announced the theft.
這一天是1911年8月11日，星期二，一位年輕的藝術家路易斯·貝勞德來到了巴黎盧浮宮的卡雷沙龍畫廊完成一幅油畫，在這條畫廊里陳列著世界上最著名的油畫——列奧納多·達·芬奇創作的《蒙娜麗莎》。令路易斯感到吃驚的是，本該掛著油畫的地方卻是空空盪盪的。中午11時博物館館方意識到這幅名畫已經被盜了。第二天全球各大報刊的頭條新聞都報道了《蒙娜麗莎》被盜的消息。
Actually the Leonardo had been gone for more than twenty-four hours before anyone noticed it was missing. The museum was always closed on Mondays for maintenance（維修）. Just before closing time on Sunday three men had entered the museum, where they had hidden themselves in a storeroom. The actual theft was quick and simple. Early the next morning Perrugia removed the painting from the wall while the others kept watch. Then they went out a back exit.
實際上，直到達·芬奇的這幅畫被盜24小時後才有人發現此事。每逢星期一盧浮宮都要閉館例行保養文物。就在星期天，有三個人進入了博物館並藏在貯藏室里。他們的盜竊行動迅速而簡單，第二天一大早，三個盜賊之一佩魯吉亞從牆上取下《蒙娜麗莎》，其餘兩個為他望風，然後他們從後門溜走逃得無影無蹤了。
Nothing was seen or heard of the painting for two years when Perrugia tried to sell it to a dealer for half a million lire（里拉）. Perrugia was arrested on December 13th. Perrugia claimed he had stolen it as an act of patriotism（愛國主義）, because, he said, the painting had been looted from the Italian nation by Napoleon（拿破崙）. Perrugia was imprisoned for seven months. It seemed that the crime of the century had been solved.
《蒙娜麗莎》在被盜後的兩年間一直杳無音迅，直到有一天佩魯吉亞想以50萬里拉賣給一個文物販子時，人們才重新見到它。佩魯吉亞於1913年12月13日被捕，他宣稱偷《蒙娜麗莎》之舉完全是出於愛國心。他說，盧浮宮的這幅畫是被拿破崙從義大利搶劫來的。佩魯吉亞為此被判了7個月的監禁，看來這個世紀奇案好像是解決了。
But had it? Perrugia was keen to claim all responsibility for the theft, and it was twenty years before the whole story came out. In fact Perrugia had been working for two master criminals, Valfierno and Chaudron, who went unpunished for their crime. They would offer to steal a famous painting from a gallery for a crooked（不誠實的） dealer or an unscrupulous（肆無忌憚的） private collector. They would then make a of the picture and, with the help of bribed gallery attendants（服務員）, would then tape the to the back of the original（原始的） painting. The dealer would then be taken to the gallery and would be invited to make a secret mark on the back of the painting. Of course the dealer would actually be marking the . Valfierno would later proce forged（偽造） newspaper cuttings announcing the theft of the original, and then proce the , complete with secret marking. If the dealer were to see the painting still in the gallery, he would be persuaded that it was a , and that he possessed the genuine（真正的） one.
果真如此嗎?佩魯吉亞試圖把這次盜竊案的全部責任都攬到自己身上。直到二十年後，整個事件的真相才大白於天下。事實上，佩魯吉亞一直在為兩個犯罪頭目瓦爾菲爾諾和肖德龍工作。在這個案件中，另兩個傢伙一直逍遙法外。瓦爾菲爾諾和肖德龍經常從陳列館偷竊名畫提供給奸詐的商人或肆無忌憚的私人收藏家。他們先製作名畫的贗品，然後向博物館的工作人員行賄，以便在博物館工作人員的協助下將偽造品粘在原作的背後，爾後他們再將文物販子帶到陳列室，並要他在要買的那幅畫的背面做上秘密的記號。當然，事實上文物販子只是在贗品的背面作記號。在此之後，瓦爾菲爾諾就偽造一些剪報宣稱原作被盜，然後拿出帶有秘密記號的贗品。如果買畫的販子看見畫仍然在展出，偷盜者將說服他相信展出的畫是贗品，而賣給他的才是真正的原作。
Chaudron then painted not one, but six copies of the Mona Lisa, using 400-year-old wood panels from antique Italian furniture. The forgeries（贗品） were carefully aged, so that the varnish（光澤） was cracked and dirty. Valfierno commissioned Perrugia to steal the original, and told him to hide it until Valfierno contacted him. Perrugia waited in vain in a tiny room in Paris with the painting, but heard nothing from his partners in crime. They had gone to New York, where the six copies were already in store. They had sent them there before the original was stolen. At that time it was quite common for artists to old masters, which would be sold quite honestly（合法的） as imitations（仿造品）, so there had been no problems with US Customs. Valfierno went on to sell all six copies for '300,OOO each. Valfierno told the story to a journalist in 1914, on condition that it would not be published until his death.
肖德龍不僅偽造了一幅，而是六幅《蒙娜麗莎》。他用400年前古義大利老傢具做油畫板，所有贗品均經過了細心的老化處理，以使油畫表面產生裂縫顯得不幹凈。瓦爾菲爾諾指派佩魯吉亞盜走《蒙娜麗莎》的真品並叫他躲藏起來直到與他取得聯系。佩魯吉亞一直帶者那幅畫首在巴黎的一間小屋裡，可是他卻一直未見同夥們的蹤跡。原來瓦爾菲爾諾和肖德龍早已跑到了紐約，那裡儲存著六幅《蒙娜麗莎》的贗品。他們在原作被盜前就已將贗品運到了美國。在那個時代，藝術家們復制已故大師的作品是司空見慣的事情，而且復製品還能夠合法地在市場上進行交易，因此復製品可以毫不費力地通過美國海關。在美國瓦爾菲爾諾以每幅300，000美元的價格陸續將這六幅《蒙娜麗莎》贗品出售。1914年瓦爾菲爾諾將事件真相透露給了一位記者，條件是只有等到他死後才能將此事公之於眾。
Does the story end there? Collectors have claimed that Perrugia returned a . It is also possible that Leonardo may have painted several versions of the Mona Lisa, or they might be copies made by Leonardo's pupils. There has been a lot of controversy and argument about a 450-year-old painting, but after all, maybe that's what she's smiling about.
事情就此了解了嗎?收藏專家們宣稱佩魯吉亞還回的《蒙娜麗莎》或許是贗品。或許當初達·芬奇創作了幾個不同版本的《蒙娜麗莎》；或許這些《蒙娜麗莎》皆為達·芬奇的學生們製作的復製品。因此迄今為止人們對於這幅有著450年左右歷史的名畫，仍有著諸多的爭議。也許，這就是蒙娜麗莎微笑的原因吧！
Ⅶ 感人的英文短篇小說
第一節；在一個孤獨的小島上，葉子慌亂地奔跑著。 一個面目不清的男人在後面緊緊追著她，好幾次那男人似乎一伸手就能捉住她了。
葉子沒命地跑，然而總是跑不快，雙腳好象是灌滿了鉛一樣沉。
葉子想呼叫，卻叫不出聲。葉子已經跑不動了，而且在她面前是一片汪洋，她無處可逃。
葉子癱瘓在地上，她驚恐地回過頭，卻不見了那個男人。她剛吁了一口氣，卻發現一條渾身血紅的蛇正在向她爬來。
葉子掙扎著要逃，卻怎麼都站不起來。而且她發現，不知什麼時候她已經變得赤身裸體的了！
血紅的蛇昂著血紅的頭向她爬來，葉子絕望地閉上了眼睛。
然而，血紅的蛇並沒咬她，而是順著她的腳往上爬。她感到蛇身的圓潤滑爽，觸在她小腿的肌膚上，竟有一種莫名的快意。血紅的蛇還在往上爬，經過她的大腿時，她甚至感覺到了一種似曾相識的溫潤。
那高昂的血紅的蛇頭注視著她，似乎在做進攻前的准備。
葉子忽然想起什麼，急忙用雙手捂住下身。
那血紅的蛇頭猶豫了一下，突然迅猛地直插了過來，從她的手指間順利地進入了她的身體！
葉子失聲尖叫起來！
葉子終於從夢境中驚醒了過來，小夜燈粉色的光溫柔地充滿卧室的空間。她伸手開了床頭燈。這時，她感覺到了身體某個地方的濕潤。
她不明白最近為什麼總在做這些離奇古怪的夢，而每次做夢總和她的身體有關…… 一場突如其來的大雨，把這座城市籠罩在了昏暗的雨霧中。
葉子站在中天大廈最高一層的落地玻璃窗前，看著雨水順著玻璃不停地向下流淌，彷彿是千萬條懸空的小溪。
因為加班趕一份文案，葉子沒能按時下班趕在大雨到來之前回去。雖然，在下班前就已經預見這場大雨。所以當同事們尤其是那些女孩子在下班前幾分鍾，就在嚷嚷著呼朋喚友地准備逃離寫字樓時，葉子仍然埋頭在電腦前，不為所動。
葉子覺得下雨沒什麼可怕的，相反倒是給人一種清新的空氣。大雨洗滌過的城市特別干凈，就連樹木花草都顯得格外清新。怕下雨的不過是那些故作嬌柔的女孩子的一種作態罷了。
但當她終於把手頭的工作做完時，她才發現，這場大雨沒她想的那麼簡單。從下班前幾分鍾就一直下到現在，而且絲毫沒有要停下來的意思。
剛開始，葉子還心情很好地站在窗前居高臨下地欣賞雨景。然而，隨著時間的推移，她看到大雨一點也沒有變小，她開始有點心急了。而且，大廈管理員已經第三次敲她的門，示意她大廈要清場了。
葉子不得不離開寫字樓，下到樓底站在大廈的門廊，雨勢還是沒有減退。
大街上幾乎沒有行人，只有各種各樣的車輛在雨幕中穿梭，飛馳的車輪濺起兩扇白色的水花。
也許天黑這雨也停不了，葉子開始有點著急起來。她住在郊外的鳴泉山莊，過了八點就沒有專線車了。打計程車至少要花七、八十元錢，這是她一天的工資了。而且這大雨天，計程車也不是那麼好打的。一想到這，一向沉靜的葉子不由得也急躁起來，不時四處張望著，希望能有空的計程車從這里經過，但很快她就氣餒了，因為這么長的時間，她沒有看到一輛計程車是空的。
葉子心一急，就不停地原地踏步。恍惚中她感覺到好像有人在注意她。她回過頭，果然離她不遠的地方，站著一個四十歲左右的男人，正注視著她，而且那目光中分明含有一種輕薄的成分。
男人，尤其是這種年齡的男人，在看年輕漂亮的女孩子時，都用這種目光，那是一種恨不得馬上扒掉別人衣服的目光，陰郁曖昧而充滿慾望。
葉子厭惡地把臉轉過一邊，對這種男人，她心裡充滿了鄙視和厭惡。
一輛白色的別克轎車駛來，停在了門廊前。那男人走過來打開車門上了車，坐在車上，他朝葉子笑了笑，說：「小姐，要不要送你？你看這雨下得好大的！」
從發現他的那時起，葉子就知道他會這么說。葉子心裡冷笑了一下，不理他。
那男人自討沒趣，只好尷尬地笑了笑關上了車門，轎車無聲地向前滑了出去。看著遠去的車尾，葉子突然感到自已剛才有點過分了，不管怎麼樣，出於禮節也應該對他說聲謝謝，或許人家真的是出於好心。葉子感覺到自已有點失態了。
都是這該死的雨！
忽然，那車又回來了，不過是亮著倒車燈倒回來的，一直倒到葉子的身邊才停下，車門打開，那男人下車遞給葉子一把雨傘，說：「小姐，這傘您先用著吧，這雨怕是一時半時停不了的。」
「這？」葉子幾乎是沒有猶豫就接過了傘，並對他連聲道謝。他笑了笑轉身上了車，關上了車門。
「哎，先生，這傘我怎麼還給你呀？」葉子追上前問。
「不用還了，送你用吧。」他欲搖上車窗。
「那怎麼行，先生，這傘我是一定要還給你的。」葉子說。
他沉吟了一下，遞給葉子一張名片說：「如果要還，你就打電話給我罷。」說完關上車窗走了。
「謝謝！」葉子沖著遠去的車喊道。 葉子終於趕上了末班專線車，回到鳴泉山莊時，天已經完全黑了下來。葉子順便在山莊街市吃了一碗面，就算吃了晚餐了。她到超市買了些水果就上樓了。
這兩居室是以月租一千元人民幣從一個姓楊的香港人手裡租下來的。鳴泉山莊因為遠離市區，交通不是很方便。因此住在這里的大都是有私家車的業主，他們大多數都是住在掬水灣別墅區。高層住宅區主要是一些在廣州打工的白領階層購買的。也有一部分是像楊先生那樣的香港人買了作為回內地時的歇腳點，他們當中更多的是作為和內地情人幽會用的。因為他們知道在大陸租房子和情人幽會，風險極高。不但手續繁瑣，光是那些名目繁多的檢查就讓人心驚肉跳。所以有點錢的香港人都喜歡買一套房子放在內地讓情人居住，自已則在周末和節假日回來幽會。畢竟是業主，沒有人會來麻煩。而更多的則是象葉子這樣的租住戶，雖然他們也算是白領，但屬於那種還沒有在廣州站穩腳跟的白領，和那些四處漂泊的民工不同的是，他們從事的工作相對來說比較體面，收入也比較高並且相對穩定。
在廣州，擁有一套屬於自已的房產，就等於在廣州市有了合法的身份。否則，就永遠是盲流和「三無人員」，面臨著隨時被罰款、拘留、送進收容站的危險。
Ⅷ 經典短篇英文小說
經典短篇小說好多呢！用詞比較簡單，但意義深刻！更重要的是每一篇都短小精悍！（符合你的要求哦）
1.《生火》傑克.倫敦 To Build a Fire (Jack LondonP
2.《厄謝爾府的倒塌》 愛倫.坡
The Fall of the House of Usher (Edgar Allan Poe)
3.《項鏈》莫泊桑 The Necklace (Guy de Maupassant)
4.《警察與贊美詩》歐.亨利 The Cop and the Anthem
(O Henry)
5.《麥琪的禮物》歐.亨利 Magi's gift (O Henry)
6.《最後一片藤葉》歐.亨利 The Last Leaf (O Henry)
7.《加利維拉縣有名的跳蛙》馬克.吐溫 The Notorious Jumping Frog of Calaveras County
（Mark Twain)
8.《人生的五種恩賜》馬克.吐溫
The Five Boons of Life （Mark Twain)
9.《三生客》 托馬斯.哈代 The Three Strangers
(Thomas Hardy)
10.《敞開的落地窗》薩基 The Open Window (Saki)
11.《末代佳人》菲茨傑拉德 The Last of the Belles
(F.S.Fitzgerald)
12.《手》舍伍德.安德森 Hands
13.《伊芙琳》詹姆斯.喬伊斯 Eveline
14.《教長的黑色面紗》納撒尼爾.霍桑
Ⅸ 求一篇英文短篇小說的英文賞析
你好！幫你在網上找的。只有找了麥琪的禮物，其他的知道這邊也放不下。建議你要找英文的評析可以在谷歌搜索：review of 書本英文名
中文~（如果有時間，可以試著自己翻譯，試練英文水平哈）
《麥琪的禮物》賞析
麥琪，是聖子耶穌誕生時前來送禮的三位智慧的賢人。他們首創了聖誕節饋贈禮物的風俗。在西方人看來，聖誕禮物是最可珍貴的，因而也希望自己獲得的禮物是最有價值的「麥琪的禮物」。
美國著名作家歐·亨利在《麥琪的禮物》這篇小說中，用他筆調幽默又帶有淡淡哀傷的藝術語言講述了一個「沒有曲折、不足為奇的故事」。以聖誕前夜饋贈禮物如此平常的題材創構的小說，在西方文壇並非罕見，其中也不乏精心之作，而歐·亨利的《麥琪的禮物》獨自絕響，成為這類題材的傑作，確實是令人深思的。
首先，從內容上看。全篇以饋贈聖誕禮物為中心線，寫了美國一對貧窮而恩愛的夫婦。這個家庭的主婦為了節省每個銅子兒，不得不「每次一個、兩個向雜貨鋪、菜販和肉店老闆那兒死乞白賴地硬扣下來」。盡管如此，到聖誕前夕全家只剩下一塊八毛七分錢。作家不用多費筆墨去寫這個家庭的拮據困窘，只是簡單地用「一塊八毛七分錢」引出全篇。唯其如是，深愛丈夫的主婦德拉把這錢數了三遍，並因為無法為丈夫購得一件稱心的「麥琪的禮物」而傷心地哭泣。歐·亨利最擅長用貌似平淡的話語作素描，去營構一種氣氛，讓讀者沉湎其中，領味和思考人物的命運。「一塊八毛七分錢」為這個「沒有曲折、不足為奇的故事」營構的憂郁凄涼的氣氛始終貫穿全文，即使寫到夫婦看到禮物時的瞬時驚喜和歡樂時也明顯地帶有這種氣氛袒露的傷痛。「人生是由啜泣、抽噎和微笑組成的，而抽噎佔了其中絕大部分」。這句話似乎折射出歐·亨利對當時美國現實的深沉思考。作家寫出了一對貧窮夫婦的痛苦，也在對人物思想性格和故事情節的描寫中，把讀者的趣味引向高尚的境界，給人以啟迪，讓人從中獲得美的陶冶。這是《麥琪的禮物》這篇小說真正價值之所在。
德拉為了給丈夫心愛的金錶配上一副精巧的表鏈，忍痛賣掉自己一頭美麗的頭發。那「美麗的頭發披散在身上，像一股褐色的小瀑布，奔瀉閃亮」，丈夫吉姆非常喜愛妻子這頭美麗的褐發。他深知愛妻為了裝扮頭發對百老匯路上一家商店櫥窗里陳列的玳瑁發梳渴望已久。為了在聖誕前夕給愛妻贈送玳瑁發梳作為有價值的「麥琪的禮物」，吉姆也忍痛賣掉了三代祖傳的金錶。德拉的美發和吉姆的金錶，是這個貧窮家庭中唯一引為自豪的珍貴財產。為了對愛人表示深摯的愛，他們在聖誕之夜失去了這兩件最珍貴的財產，換來了已無金錶與之匹配的表鏈和已無美發借之裝扮的發梳。瞬間的歡樂付出了昂貴的代價，而隨之而來的無疑是深深的痛苦。歐·亨利經過對現實生活的深沉思考之後，精心篩選了這個故事的主要情節，使這類易入俗套的題材煥發出奇異動人的光彩。金錶和美發，對這個每星期只收入20塊錢的家庭來說是一筆不可復得的巨大財富。這個遺憾帶來的苦澀感，使每個善良的讀者心扉顫栗。這個凝聚著社會現實生活無法解決的真實矛盾(愛情和財富)因作家深沉的文筆而倍增真實，更能引起讀者的憐憫和同情，並將他們引入更深刻的思考中去。歐·亨利的短篇小說一向不以奇詭情節取勝，揭示復雜的社會生活往往不過攝取其中一個鏡頭，但那種刻意追求的以情動人的獨特藝術效果，卻能透過「沒有曲折、不足為奇的故事」沖擊讀者的心扉。德拉和吉姆為了一時的感情沖動，「極不聰明地為了對方犧牲了他們一家最寶貴的東西」，作家把他們稱作「兩個住在一間公寓里的笨孩子」。在那個唯金錢萬能的社會中，他們的禮物不能算作是智慧的「麥琪的禮物」。但是，他們失去了財富，卻加深了人世間最可寶貴的真摯的愛情。在愛情與財富的矛盾中他們為了前者犧牲了後者。所以，作家在小說末尾留下了一段意味深長的話：「讓我們對目前一般聰明人說最後一句話，在所有饋贈禮物的人當中，他們兩個是最聰明的……他們就是麥琪。」
小說揭示社會現實不靠說教，而是用人物感情起伏的發展變化引為脈絡，啟發讀者去觸摸、感受人物帶有悲劇色彩的思想性格。在那個金錢可以買賣愛情，心理和感情出現畸變的社會中，德拉夫婦之間真摯深厚的愛充滿了作家的理想主義的色彩。歐·亨利不寫這個社會中金錢作賤愛情的罪惡，偏去寫這個晦暗鏡頭中的詩情畫意，去贊揚德拉夫婦的聰慧，這絕非常人手筆。所以，作品給人的不是消沉和晦暗，而是對美的追求和眷戀，從而把讀者引向高尚的境界。
一般說來，短篇小說因其篇幅短小，要求作家以「少少許」勝「多多許」，就必須筆墨凝練，刻畫人物風姿只能抓住一兩個側面去作速寫勾勒。其難度在某種程度上未必比中、長篇小。歐·亨利的短篇常以他獨具風格的感傷筆調和詼諧輕快的筆鋒，去刻畫人物和鋪展情節，使筆下的形象富有立體感，並給人以不盡的余韻。《麥琪的禮物》正是這個藝術特色的代表作。裁剪精到的構思，對話般親切的語言，微帶憂郁的情調，使這個短篇在縷縷情感的光束中顯露出豐厚的內涵，激發讀者對愛情、金錢的價值的思考。作家細致地寫德拉無錢為丈夫買禮物的焦灼心情，寫德拉的美發，甚至寫德拉上街賣發和買表鏈的全過程，卻惜墨如金地避開了吉姆賣金錶買發梳的經過。作家可以細致地描寫吉姆回家後德拉擔心失去美發會傷害吉姆的愛所作的一連串解釋，卻在吉姆講完賣金錶事之後戛然然止住全文。時而細致入微，時而寥寥數筆，讀者仍能從那些不著文字之處領悟作家的弦外之音。這種寄實於虛，並兼用暗示和略寫的手法，是《麥琪的禮物》所獨具的。
以下是谷歌找到的英文評論：
Jim and Doller, though they are only the small potatoes who live in the lower classes, they never lost their fervency to their lives and love each other deeply, penury is so insignificant when it is in this warm sentiment. At the Christmas' Eve, they were still thinking about the presents they should give to each other, how romantic! Even though it seemed that these presents is no longer useful, they have been the most costful one in the world, like a sincere love to each other. March is a bright man, the most bright man, because he is a bright man, his presents are also bright presents. How ever our Jim and Doller, they immolated their most precious thins for another unadvisably. But let's say the last word to the current bright people, among all the people who gave presents those two was the most bright. Among all the people who not onil give but also receive, those two was also the most bright. Wherever they are the most bright. They give each other a invaluable thing with their loveness heart. However this invaluable thing, any of the person who always thinks he is the most bright or richest could has it, and couldn't give either. Christmas Day is coming now, dear friends, are ready?
英文評論："It is not surprising that 'The Gift of the Magi' still enjoys such widespread fame, for in this trite little tale of mutual self-sacrifice between husband and wife, O. Henry crystallized dramatically what the world in all its stored-up wisdom knows to be of fundamental value in ordinary family life. Unselfish love shared, regardless of the attendant difficulties or distractions--this is the idea repeatedly implied as a criterion in his fictional treatment of domestic affairs. If such love is present, life can be a great adventure transcending all drabness; if it is absent, nothing else can take its place....O. Henry wrote few stories of ordinary family life that approach in tenderness and universal appeal the qualities found in 'The Gift of the Magi'
by Current-Garcia
以下是摘自新浪博客《麥琪的禮物》英文讀後感
《Impression of "The Gift of the Magi"》
It's a short story by O.Henry that has moved me for a long time.Maybe most of you are familar with its name,that is,The Gift of the Magi.I have read it many times but every time I like to read it slowly and deliberately.I think "The Gift of the Magi"
is meant to be savored.
Maybe there is no necessity for me to repeat the main idea of the story.But I'm so fascinated with the short story that I want to retell it yo you,and to myself.
It happened to a very poor but blissful young couple named Jim and Della in the end of 18th century in England.Because of the maladies of that society and the effect of economic crisis,they worked hard but earned little.Life is very hard for them.Despite of this,their love to each other and the enthusiasm for life didn't changed at all.When Chrismas day was approuching ,Della used the money she got from selling her beautiful hair which she treasured very much to give Jim a fob for his grandfather's pocket watch.But Jim had already sold that watch to buy Della tortoiseshell combs to wear in her long hair,not knowing she'd cut it off.
It appears that the gifts they gave each other have been useless.But I think they gave each other the best of what they had to make the other happy.Isn't that true love?We can image,in such rough conditions,as it said in the story,"Life is made up of sobs,sniffles,and smiles,with sniffles predominating."Its't absolute reasonable for them to be beaten by the misery.But the fact is that no matter how tough life had been,they would't lose heart.With strong faith and their love ,they did their best to make the other pleased."Whennever Mr. James came home and reached his flat ,above he was called 'Jim'and greatly hugged by Mrs. James."Maybe this account is the best description of their love and struggle against hard life.It was said that the povertier life is ,the firmer and truer love is."Actually,they'd given the very best they had out of love.
"They are too 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."Said the writer in the last paragraph.Yes,they are wisest.They are the magi.Are there any reasons for us not to show respect for the young couple?
I remind my grandparents.They have spent fifty years together.No romantic words,no stirring behaviours,just comman even pedestrian life.But I can say love exists in every detail of their life.They have gone through war period,three years' natural disasters,cultural revolution and so on.But no matter what happens,they are always considering for the other.Even now both of them have become old step by step,they still cared about each other.My grandparents,in my opinion,is a pair of lovers forever.
Love has nothing to do with money,possession or status.It's consideration,tolerance and respect.It's giving one's best to the other even it means sacrifice.It's affection which connects two persons' hearts,and it's reinforced by adversities.
Struggle against adversities.Nothing did they have,at least they owened love.Never give up as long as love exists.From"The Gift of the Magi",from Jim and Della and from my grandparents,I have learned a lot about love,life and hope.
Ⅹ 求一篇短篇小說（英文的，字數500-1000詞）
Many artists lived in the Greenwich Village area of New York. Two young women named Sue and Johnsy shared a studio apartment at the top of a three-story building. Johnsy's real name was Joanna. In November, a cold, unseen stranger came to visit the city. This disease, pneumonia, killed many people. Johnsy lay on her bed, hardly moving. She looked through the small window. She could see the side of the brick house next to her building. One morning, a doctor examined Johnsy and took her temperature. Then he spoke with Sue in another room. "She has one chance in -- let us say ten," he said. "And that chance is for her to want to live. Your friend has made up her mind that she is not going to get well. Has she anything on her mind?" "She -- she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples in Italy some day," said Sue. "Paint?" said the doctor. "Bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice -- a man for example?" "A man?" said Sue. "Is a man worth -- but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind." "I will do all that science can do," said the doctor. "But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages at her funeral, I take away fifty percent from the curative power of medicines." After the doctor had gone, Sue went into the workroom and cried. Then she went to Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime. Johnsy lay with her face toward the window. Sue stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep. She began making a pen and ink drawing for a story in a magazine. Young artists must work their way to "Art" by making pictures for magazine stories. Sue heard a low sound, several times repeated. She went quickly to the bedside. Johnsy's eyes were open wide. She was looking out the window and counting -- counting backward. "Twelve," she said, and a little later "eleven"; and then "ten" and "nine;" and then "eight" and "seven," almost together. Sue looked out the window. What was there to count? There was only an empty yard and the blank side of the house seven meters away. An old ivy vine, going bad at the roots, climbed half way up the wall. The cold breath of autumn had stricken leaves from the plant until its branches, almost bare, hung on the bricks. "What is it, dear?" asked Sue. "Six," said Johnsy, quietly. "They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head hurt to count them. But now it's easy. There goes another one. There are only five left now." "Five what, dear?" asked Sue. "Leaves. On the plant. When the last one falls I must go, too. I've known that for three days. Didn't the doctor tell you?" "Oh, I never heard of such a thing," said Sue. "What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? And you used to love that vine. Don't be silly. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were -- let's see exactly what he said ¨ he said the chances were ten to one! Try to eat some soup now. And, let me go back to my drawing, so I can sell it to the magazine and buy food and wine for us." "You needn't get any more wine," said Johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "There goes another one. No, I don't want any soup. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I'll go, too." "Johnsy, dear," said Sue, "will you promise me to keep your eyes closed, and not look out the window until I am done working? I must hand those drawings in by tomorrow." "Tell me as soon as you have finished," said Johnsy, closing her eyes and lying white and still as a fallen statue. "I want to see the last one fall. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves." "Try to sleep," said Sue. "I must call Mister Behrman up to be my model for my drawing of an old miner. Don't try to move until I come back." Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor of the apartment building. Behrman was a failure in art. For years, he had always been planning to paint a work of art, but had never yet begun it. He earned a little money by serving as a model to artists who could not pay for a professional model. He was a fierce, little, old man who protected the two young women in the studio apartment above him. Sue found Behrman in his room. In one area was a blank canvas that had been waiting twenty-five years for the first line of paint. Sue told him about Johnsy and how she feared that her friend would float away like a leaf. Old Behrman was angered at such an idea. "Are there people in the world with the foolishness to die because leaves drop off a vine? Why do you let that silly business come in her brain?" "She is very sick and weak," said Sue, "and the disease has left her mind full of strange ideas." "This is not any place in which one so good as Miss Johnsy shall lie sick," yelled Behrman. "Some day I will paint a masterpiece, and we shall all go away." Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. Sue pulled the shade down to cover the window. She and Behrman went into the other room. They looked out a window fearfully at the ivy vine. Then they looked at each other without speaking. A cold rain was falling, mixed with snow. Behrman sat and posed as the miner. The next morning, Sue awoke after an hour's sleep. She found Johnsy with wide-open eyes staring at the covered window. "Pull up the shade; I want to see," she ordered, quietly. Sue obeyed. After the beating rain and fierce wind that blew through the night, there yet stood against the wall one ivy leaf. It was the last one on the vine. It was still dark green at the center. But its edges were colored with the yellow. It hung bravely from the branch about seven meters above the ground. "It is the last one," said Johnsy. "I thought it would surely fall ring the night. I heard the wind. It will fall today and I shall die at the same time." "Dear, dear!" said Sue, leaning her worn face down toward the bed. "Think of me, if you won't think of yourself. What would I do?" But Johnsy did not answer. The next morning, when it was light, Johnsy demanded that the window shade be raised. The ivy leaf was still there. Johnsy lay for a long time, looking at it. And then she called to Sue, who was preparing chicken soup. "I've been a bad girl," said Johnsy. "Something has made that last leaf stay there to show me how bad I was. It is wrong to want to die. You may bring me a little soup now." An hour later she said: "Someday I hope to paint the Bay of Naples." Later in the day, the doctor came, and Sue talked to him in the hallway. "Even chances," said the doctor. "With good care, you'll win. And now I must see another case I have in your building. Behrman, his name is -- some kind of an artist, I believe. Pneumonia, too. He is an old, weak man and his case is severe. There is no hope for him; but he goes to the hospital today to ease his pain." The next day, the doctor said to Sue: "She's out of danger. You won. Nutrition and care now -- that's all." Later that day, Sue came to the bed where Johnsy lay, and put one arm around her. "I have something to tell you, white mouse," she said. "Mister Behrman died of pneumonia today in the hospital. He was sick only two days. They found him the morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with pain. His shoes and clothing were completely wet and icy cold. They could not imagine where he had been on such a terrible night. And then they found a lantern, still lighted. And they found a ladder that had been moved from its place. And art supplies and a painting board with green and yellow colors mixed on it. And look out the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall. Didn't you wonder why it never moved when the wind blew? Ah, darling, it is Behrman's masterpiece ¨C he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell."