It was raining as I got off the train in Nashville, Tennessee. I was tired so I went straight to my hotel.
A big, heavy man was walking up and down in the hotel lobby. Something about the way he moved made me think of a hungry dog looking for a bone. He had a big, fat, red face and a sleepy expression in his eyes. He introduced himself as Wentworth Caswell – Major Wentworth Caswell – from “a fine southern family”. Caswell pulled me into the hotel’s barroom and yelled for a waiter. We ordered drinks. While we drank, he talked continually about himself, his family, his wife and her family. He said his wife was rich. He showed me a handful of silver coins that he pulled from his coat pocket.
By this time, I had decided that I wanted no more of him. I said good night.
I was born in the south myself. But I live in New York now. I write for a large magazine. My boss had asked me to go to Nashville. The magazine had received some stories and poems from a writer in Nashville, named Azalea Adair. The editor liked her work very much. The publisher asked me to get her to sign an agreement to write only for his magazine.
I left the hotel at nine o’clock the next morning to find Miss Adair. It was still raining. As soon as I stepped outside I met Uncle Caesar. He was a big, old black man with fuzzy gray hair. Uncle Caesar was wearing the strangest coat I had ever seen. It must have been a military officer’s coat. It was very long and when it was new it had been gray. But now rain, sun and age had made it a rainbow of colors. Only one of the buttons was left. It was yellow and as big as a fifty cent coin.
Uncle Caesar stood near a horse and carriage. He opened the carriage door and said softly, “Step right in, sir. I’ll take you anywhere in the city.”
“I want to go to 861 Jasmine Street,” I said, and I started to climb into the carriage. But the old man stopped me. “Why do you want to go there, sir?”
“What business is it of yours?” I said angrily. Uncle Caesar relaxed and smiled. “Nothing, sir. But it’s a lonely part of town. Just step in and I’ll take you there right away.”
861 Jasmine Street had been a fine house once, but now it was old and dying. I got out of the carriage.
“That will be two dollars, sir,” Uncle Caesar said. I gave him two one-dollar bills. As I handed them to him, I noticed that one had been torn in half and fixed with a piece of blue paper. Also, the upper right hand corner was missing.
The narrator （故事的叙述者）got to Nashville probably _______.

A．in the morning

B．at noon

C．in the afternoon

D．in the evening

The narrator didn’t like Caswell mainly because of ________.

A．his appearance

B．his family

C．the way he talked and behaved

D．his wife

The publisher told the narrator to go to Nashville ______.

A．to get a writer to sign an agreement for his magazine

B．to collect some stories and poems from a writer

C．to look for good writers for his magazine

D．to visit his old friend Azalea Adair

Uncle Caesar’s strange coat ________.

A．was worn by a military officer	B．was a new gray coat
C．was an old yellow raincoat	D．had only one button left

From the question “Why do you want to go there, sir?”, we guess that Uncle Caesar _______.

A．wanted to know why the narrator wanted to go there

B．knew the place and was concerned about the narrator

C．would charge two dollars for taking the narrator there

D．must have lived in the neighbourhood before

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