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When I left, I still had my third 77-definitely not a lucky number for me-and the humiliation of being a seminar leader, trailing far behind my ever-grateful students.The last hurdle was the final. No matter what grade I got, it wouldn't cancel three C-pluses. I might as well kiss the scholarship good-bye. Besides, what was the use? I could cram till my eyes teared, and the result would be a crushing 77.
当我离开时，我仍然拿着我的第三个77分--这对我来说绝不是一个好数字--并且作为一个学习组的组长我蒙受着羞辱，（这成绩）远远落在那些对我感激涕零的学生后面。最后一道关是期末考试。不管我得多少分，都不会抵消3个C+。我也许只能与奖学金失之交臂了。并且，这又有何用？我可以为考试苦读，直至双眼流泪，但结果还会是凉彻心骨的77。
I skipped studying. I felt I knew the material as well as I ever would. Hadn't I reread the books many times and explained them to my buddies? Wasn't The Wasteland resounding in my brain? The night before the final, I treated myself to a movie.
我没有再学习。我觉得我对资料的理解像以往任何时候一样透彻。我不是已经重读过课本多次并向我的朋友解释过它们了吗？《荒原》不正在我的脑海里回响吗？期末考试的前一天晚上，我看了一场电影以慰劳一下自己。
I sauntered into the auditorium and decided that for once I'd have fun with a test. I marooned all the writers we'd studied on an island and wrote a debate in which they argued their positions. It was silly, befitting my nothing-to-lose mood. The words flowed-all that sparring with Dr.Jayne made it effortless.
我从容地走进了会堂，决定仅此一次，享受一场考试。我把我们学过的所有作者都放逐到一个孤岛上，并记下了他们各抒己见的一场辩论会。这简直愚蠢至极，只能迎合我的输无可输的心情罢了。我文如泉涌--与杰恩博士的所有争论使这一切不费吹灰之力。
A week later, I strolled down to the ground floor (ground zero for me) and unearthed my test from the heaps of exams. There, in red ink on the blue cover, was an A. I couldn't believe my eyes.
一周后，我闲逛到了一楼（对我来说是零楼),从试卷堆里挖出了我的那一份。那儿,蓝色封皮上用红色墨水写着A。我简直不敢相信。
I hurried to Dr.Jayne's office. He seemed to be expecting me, although I didn't have an appointment. I launched into righteous indignation. How come I received a C-plus every time I slaved and now, when I'd written a spoof, I earned an A?
我急忙跑向杰恩博士的办公室。他看起来正在期盼我的到来，尽管我没有预约过。我变得义愤填膺。为什么每次我埋头苦读只得到C+，而这次我写了一篇讽剌性文章却得到了A？
