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How have we learnt to control fire? - English

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How have we learnt to control fire?

संक्षेप में उत्तर
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उत्तर

Every year we spend millions of rupees for fighting fires. We spend even large sum of money to find out ways to prevent fire from happening and going out of control. In the process we have learnt to control fire and use it for our betterment.

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  क्या इस प्रश्न या उत्तर में कोई त्रुटि है?
अध्याय 8.1: Fire: Friend and Foe - Extra Questions

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एनसीईआरटी English - Honeycomb Class 7
अध्याय 8.1 Fire: Friend and Foe
Extra Questions | Q 8

संबंधित प्रश्न

Discuss in pair and answer question below in a short paragraph (30 − 40 words.

What was Jerome’s real intention when he offered to pack?


Thinking about the Poem

What do the following phrases mean to you? Discuss in class.

(i) humid shadows
(ii) starry spheres
(iii) what a bliss
(iv) a thousand dreamy fancies into busy being start
(v) a thousand recollections weave their air-threads into woof


Thinking about Poem

What is the meaning of “anchoring earth” and “earth cave”?


Read the following passage carefully and answer the questions that follow : 

Billy Weaver had travelled down from London, and by the time he arrived, it was nine o’clock in the night, and the moon was coming up. 

“Excuse me,” he asked a porter. “But is there a cheap hotel nearby?” 

“Try the Bell Hotel,” the porter answered, pointing down the road. 

Billy thanked him, picked up his suitcase, and set out to walk the distance to the Bell Hotel. He had never been to Richmond before, but the man at the office had told him it was a splendid city. 

Billy was seventeen years old. He was wearing a new navy blue overcoat, a new brown hat, and a new brown suit, and he was feeling fine. He walked briskly down the street. He was trying to do everything briskly these days. The big shots up at the head office were fantastically brisk all the time. They were amazing. 

The road was lonely and dark, with a few scattered houses. 

Suddenly, in a downstairs window, Billy saw a printed notice propped up against the window glass. It said bed and breakfast. 

He moved a bit closer and peered through the window into the room, and the first thing he saw was a bright fire burning in the hearth. On the carpet in front of the fire, a little dog was curled up asleep with its nose tucked into its belly. The room, in its half-darkness, was filled with pleasant furniture. There was a piano, a big sofa, and several plump armchairs. In one corner, he spotted a large parrot in a cage. Animals were usually a good sign in a place like this, Billy told himself, and it looked to him as though it would be a pretty decent house to stay in. 

Then a queer thing happened to him. He was in the act of stepping back and going away from the window when he felt a strange urge to ring the bell! 
He pressed the bell. He heard it ring, and then, at once, the door swung open, and a woman stood there. 
She gave him a warm, welcoming smile. 
“Please come in,” she said pleasantly. Billy found himself automatically moving forward into the house.  
“I saw the notice in the window,” he said, holding himself back. 
“Yes, I know.” 
“I was wondering about a room.” 
“It’s already for you, my dear,” she said. She had a round, pink face and very gentle blue eyes. 
“How much do you charge?” 
“Five dollars a night, including breakfast.” 
It was fantastically cheap. He could easily afford it. 

(a) Give the meaning of the following words used in the passage:  One-word answers or short phrases will be accepted. [3]

(i) splendid (line 7)  
(ii) spotted (line 20)  
(iii) automatically (line 29)   

(b) Answer the following questions briefly in your own words.

(i) How did the porter assist Billy? [2] 
(ii) Why did Billy want to do everything briskly? [2]
(iii) Why did Billy think animals were a good sign in a place like this? [2]
(iv) Which sentence tells you that something strange happened to Billy? [2]
(v) How much did the room cost?[1]
 
(c) In not more than 50 words, give a brief account of what Billy saw as he looked through the window of the room. [8]
 

To us the ashes of our ancestors are sacred and their resting place is hallowed ground. You wander far from the graves of your ancestors and seemingly without regret. Your religion was written upon tablets of stone by the iron finger of your God so that you could not forget. The Red Man could never comprehend or remember it. Our religion is the traditions of our ancestors — the dreams of our old men, given them in solemn hours of the night by the Great Spirit; and the visions of our sachems, and is written in the hearts of our people.

Your dead cease to love you and the land of their nativity as soon as they pass the portals of the tomb and wander away beyond the stars. They are soon forgotten and never return. Our dead never forget this beautiful world that gave them being. They still love its verdant valleys, its murmuring rivers, its magnificent mountains, sequestered vales and verdant lined lakes and bays, and ever yearn in tender fond affection over the lonely hearted living, and often return from the happy hunting ground to visit, guide, console, and comfort them.

Day and night cannot dwell together. The Red Man has ever fled the approach of the White Man, as the morning mist flees before the morning sun. However, your proposition seems fair and I think that my people will accept it and will retire to the reservation you offer them. Then we will dwell apart in peace, for the words of the Great White Chief seem to be the words of nature speaking to my people out of dense darkness.

Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.

Where was the religion of the White people written?


An old man with steel rimmed spectacles and very dusty clothes sat by the side of the road. There was a pontoon bridge across the river and carts, trucks, and men, women and children were crossing it. The mule-drawn carts staggered up the steep bank from the bridge with soldiers helping push against the spokes of the wheels. The trucks ground up and away heading out of it all and the peasants plodded along in the ankle deep dust. But the old man sat there without moving. He was too tired to go any farther.

Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.

Who was sitting by the side of the road?


 

The boy looked up. He took his hands from his face and looked up at his teacher. The light from Mr. Oliver’s torch fell on the boy’s face, if you could call it a face. He had no eyes, ears, nose or mouth. It was just a round smooth head with a school cap on top of it.

And that’s where the story should end, as indeed it has for several people who have had similar experiences and dropped dead of inexplicable heart attacks. But for Mr. Oliver, it did not end there. The torch fell from his trembling hand. He turned and scrambled down the path, running blindly through the trees and calling for help. He was still running towards the school buildings when he saw a lantern swinging in the middle of the path. Mr. Oliver had never before been so pleased to see the night watchman. He stumbled up to the watchman, gasping for breath and speaking incoherently.

What is it, Sahib? Asked the watchman, has there been an accident? Why are you running?

I saw something, something horrible, a boy weeping in the forest and he had no face.
No face, Sahib?
No eyes, no nose, mouth, nothing.
Do you mean it was like this, Sahib? asked the watchman, and raised the lamp to his own face. The watchman had no eyes, no ears, no features at all, not even an eyebrow. The wind blew the lamp out and Mr. Oliver had his heart attack.

Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.

Why did Mr Oliver tell the boy that he should not be out at that hour?


Its a cruel thing to leave her so.”

“Then take her to the poorhouse: she’ll have to go there,” answered the blacksmith’s wife, springing away, and leaving Joe behind.

For a little while the man stood with a puzzled air; then he turned back, and went into the hovel again. Maggie with painful effort, had raised herself to an upright position and was sitting on the bed, straining her eyes upon the door out of which all had just departed, A vague terror had come into her thin white face.

“O, Mr. Thompson!” she cried out, catching her suspended breath, “don’t leave me here all alone!”           ,

Though rough in exterior, Joe Thompson, the wheelwright, had a heart, and it was very tender in some places. He liked children, and was pleased to have them come to his shop, where sleds and wagons were made or mended for the village lads without a draft on their hoarded sixpences.

“No, dear,” he answered, in a kind voice, going to the bed, and stooping down over the child, “You she’n’t be left here alone.” Then he wrapped her with the gentleness almost of a woman, in the clean bedclothes which some neighbor had brought; and, lifting her in his strong arms, bore her out into the air and across the field that lay between the hovel and his home.

Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.

What assurance did Joe Thompson give Maggie? What did he do?


“You haven’t brought home that sick brat!” Anger and astonishment were in the tones of Mrs. Joe Thompson; her face was in a flame.

“I think women’s hearts are sometimes very hard,” said Joe. Usually Joe Thompson got out of his wife’s way, or kept rigidly silent and non-combative when she fired up on any subject; it was with some surprise, therefore, that she now encountered a firmly-set countenance and a resolute pair of eyes.

“Women’s hearts are not half so hard as men’s!”

Joe saw, by a quick intuition, that his resolute bearing h«d impressed his wife and he answered quickly, and with real indignation, “Be that as it may, every woman at the funeral turned her eyes steadily from the sick child’s face, and when the cart went off with her dead mother, hurried away, and left her alone in that old hut, with the sun not an hour in the sky.”

“Where were John and Kate?” asked Mrs. Thompson.

“Farmer Jones tossed John into his wagon, and drove off. Katie went home with Mrs. Ellis; but nobody wanted the poor sick one. ‘Send her to the poorhouse,’ was the cry.”

“Why didn’t you let her go, then. What did you bring her here for?”

“She can’t walk to the poorhouse,” said Joe; “somebody’s arms must carry her, and mine are strong enough for that task.”

Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.

Does the attitude of the villagers convey some truth about society at large?


Mrs. Thompson did not reply, but presently turned towards the little chamber where her husband had deposited Maggie; and, pushing open the door, went quietly in. Joe did not follow; he saw that, her state had changed, and felt that it would be best to leave her alone with the child. So he went to his shop, which stood near the house, and worked until dusky evening released him from labor. A light shining through the little chamber windows was the first object that attracted Joe’s attention on turning towards the house: it was a good omen. The path led him by this windows and, when opposite, he could not help pausing to look in. It was now dark enough outside to screen him from observation. Maggie lay, a little raised on the pillow with the lamp shining full upon her face. Mrs. Thompson was sitting by the bed, talking to the child; but her back was towards the window, so that her countenance was not seen. From Maggie’s face, therefore, Joe must read the character of their intercourse. He saw that her eyes were intently fixed upon his wife; that now and then a few words came, as if in answers from her lips; that her expression was sad and tender; but he saw nothing of bitterness or pain. A deep-drawn breath was followed by one of relief, as a weight lifted itself from his heart.

Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.

Why did Joe not follow Mr s Thompson? What had changed her?


Then, trying to hide my nervousness, I added, “How are you?”
“I’m fine. The question is: How are you?“
“What do you mean?” 1 asked “Something must be eating you,” he said—proud the way foreigners are when they’ve mastered a bit of American slang. “You should be able to qualify with your eyes closed.”
“Believe me, I know it,” I told him—and it felt good to say that to someone.

For the next few minutes we talked together. I didn’t tell Long what was “eating” me, but he seemed to understand my anger, and he took pains to reassure me. Although he’d been schooled in the Nazi youth movement, he didn’t believe in the Aryan-supremacy business any more than I did. We laughed over the fact that he really looked the part, though. An inch taller than I, he had a lean, muscular frame, clear blue eyes, blond hair and a strikingly handsome, chiseled face. Finally, seeing that I had calmed down somewhat, he pointed to the take-off board.

“Look,” he said. “Why don’t you draw a line a few inches in back of the board and aim at making your take-off from there? You’ll be sure not to foul, and you certainly ought to jump far enough to qualify. What does it matter if you’re not first in the trials? Tomorrow is what counts.”

Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.

What was actually eating Jesse Owens?


Why does Portia disapprove of the County Palatine? Who would she rather marry?


Read the extract given below and answer the questions that follow:

Each Friday morning the whole school spent the pre-recess period in writing their Weekly Review. This was one of the Old Man’s pet schemes; and one about which he would brook no interference. Each child would review the events of his school week in his own words, in his own way; he was free to comment, to criticize, to agree or disagree, with any person, subject or method, as long as it was in some way associated with the school …..

(i) Why did Mr. Florian feel that the weekly review was of advantage to both pupil and teacher? 

(ii) Why did Braithwaite feel both relief and disappointment at the first weekly review his students had written since he joined the school? 

(iii) How was he given the silent treatment by his students? 

(iv) What does Braithwaite term the second and more annoying phase of his relationship with his students? What did some students do to disrupt his class? 

(v) Mention two qualities in Braithwaite’s character which help him to become a model teacher. Give suitable examples to illustrate your choice.


The shepherd hadn’t been to school because
Choose the right answer.


Fill in the blank in the sentence below with the words or phrases from the box. (You may not know the meaning of all the words. Look such words up in a dictionary, or ask your teacher.)

This ____________ we are going to have a class exhibition.


Find these sentences in the story and fill in the blanks.

Find these sentences in the story and fill in the blanks.

(i) This made Taro ___________________ than ever. (3)

(ii) He decided to work ___________________ than before. (3)

(iii) Next morning, Taro jumped out of bed ___________________ than usual. (4)

(iv) He began to chop even ____________________. (4)

(v) Next morning, Taro started for work even _______________ than the morning before. (10)


Multiple Choice Question:
For the child, his teacher is ________


Answer the following question.
Algu found himself in a tight spot. What was his problem?


Who wishes to go into the shed soon?


Read the extract given below and answer the questions that follow:

All around the field spectators were gathered
Cheering on all the young women and men
Then the final event of the day was approaching
The last race is about to begin.

 - Nine Gold Medals, David Roth

  1. Where had the ‘young women and men’ come from? What had brought them together?     [2]
  2. What was the last event of the day? How many athletes were participating in this event?    [2]
  3. What happened to the youngest athlete halfway through the race? How did he deal with the situation?     [3]
  4. Describe the manner in which the race ends.    [3]

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