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प्रश्न
The little elf was a nag. How did it tell Patrick’s health?
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उत्तर
The little elf agreed to do Patrick’s homework. But he had a problem. He was always seeking Patrick’s help. Overwork tired him and caused swelling in his eyes.
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संबंधित प्रश्न
Answer the question in a short paragraph.
What difference does the author note between the flute seller and the other hawkers?
Now rewrite the pair of sentences given below as one sentence.
Grandfather told me about the old days. All books were printed on paper then.
On the basis of your understanding of the poem, answer the following question
by ticking the correct choice.
The poet's lament in the poem 'The Solitary Reaper' is that __________.
Now listen to two speakers debating on the topic, 'School Uniforms should be Banned'. The script is given at page no 177 to 180. two student can be designated for this task
| NOTICE Class IX English Debate Motion : School Uniforms should be Banned Time : 2 mins (1 min for each speaker) Venue : School Auditorium |
Some are like fields of sunlit corn,
Meet for a bride on her bridal morn,
Some, like the flame of her marriage fire,
Or, rich with the hue of her heart's desire,
Tinkling,luminous,tender, and clear,
Like her bridal laughter and bridal tear.
Read the lines given above and answer the question that follow.
The poet has used several expressions which form pictures in the readers mind “fields of sunlit corn” and “circles of light”. Pick out more such expressions from the poem.
We will ponder your proposition and when we decide we will let you know. But should we accept it, I here and now make this condition that we will not be denied the privilege without molestation of visiting at any time the tombs of our ancestors, friends, and children. Every part of this soil is sacred in the estimation of my people. Every hillside, every valley, every plain and grove, has been hallowed by some sad or happy event in days long vanished. Even the rocks, which seem to be dumb and dead as the swelter in the sun along the silent shore, thrill with memories of stirring events connected with the lives of my people, and the very dust upon which you now stand responds more lovingly to their footsteps than yours, because it is rich with the blood of our ancestors, and our bare feet are conscious of the sympathetic touch. Our departed braves, fond mothers, glad, happy hearted maidens, and even the little children who lived here and rejoiced here for a brief season, will love these somber solitudes and at eventide they greet shadowy returning spirits. And when the last Red Man shall have perished, and the memory of my tribe shall have become a myth among the White Men, these shores will swarm with the invisible dead of my tribe^ and when your children’s children think themselves alone in the field, the store, the shop, upon the highway, or in the silence of the pathless woods, they will not be alone. In all the earth there is no place dedicated to solitude. At night when the streets of your cities and villages are silent and you think them deserted, they will throng with the returning hosts’that once filled them and still lover this beautiful land. The White Man will never be alone.
Let him be just and deal kindly with my people, for the dead are not powerless. Dead, did I say? There is no death, only a change of worlds.
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
How is every part of the soil sacred to his people?
Joe did not see the Guardians of the Poor on that day, on the next, nor on the day following. In fact, he never saw them at all on Maggie’s account, for in less than a week Mrs. Joe Thompson would as soon leave thought of taking up her own abode in the almshouse as sending Maggie there.
What light and blessing did that sick and helpless child bring to the home of Joe Thompson, the poor wheelwright! It had been dark, and cold, and miserable there for a long time just because his wife had nothing to love and care for out of herself, and so became soar, irritable, ill-tempered, and self-afflicting in the desolation of her woman’s nature. Now the sweetness of that sick child, looking ever to her in love, patience, and gratitude, was as honey to her soul, and she carried her in her heart as well as in her arms, a precious burden. As for Joe Thompson, there was not a man in all the neighbourhood who drank daily of a more precious wine of life than he. An angel had come into his house, disguised as a sick, helpless, and miserable child, and filled all its dreary chambers with the sunshine of love.
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
Who was the angel? Why does the author say she was disguised?
Most terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly quite dark, and evening— the last evening of the year. In this cold and darkness there went along the street a poor little girl, bareheaded, and with naked feet. When she left home she had slippers on, it is true; but what was the good of that? They were very large slippers, which her mother had hitherto worn; so large were they; and the poor little thing lost them as she scuffled away across the street, because of two carriages that rolled by dreadfully fast.
One slipper was nowhere to be found; the other had been laid hold of by an urchin, and off he ran with it; he thought it would do capitally for a cradle when he some day or other should have children himself. So the little maiden walked on with her tiny naked feet, that were quite red and blue from cold. She carried a quantity of matches in an old apron, and she held a bundle of them in her hand. Nobody had bought anything of her the whole livelong day; no one had given her a single farthing. She crept along trembling with cold and hunger—a very picture of sorrow, the poor little thing!
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
Had she managed to sell any matches?
She again rubbed a match on the wall, and the light shone round her; in the brightness stood her old grandmother, clear and shining, yet mild and loving in her appearance. “Grandmother,” cried the little one, “O take me with you; I know you will go away when the match burns out; you will vanish like the warm stove, the roast goose, and the large, glorious Christmas-tree.” And she made haste to light the whole bundle of matches, for she wished to keep her grandmother there. And the matches glowed with a light that was brighter than the noon-day, and her grandmother had never appeared so large or so beautiful. She took the little girl in her arms, and they both flew upwards in brightness and joy far above the earth, where there was neither cold nor hunger nor pain, for they were with God.
In the dawn of morning there lay the poor little one, with pale cheeks and smiling mouth, leaning against the wall; she had been frozen to death on the last evening of the year; and the New-year’s sun rose and shone upon a little corpse! The child still sat, in the stiffness of death, holding the matches in her hand, one bundle of which was burnt. “She tried to warm herself,” said some. No one imagined what beautiful things she had seen, nor into what glory she had entered with her grandmother, on New-year’s day.
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
What happened when she lighted another match?
Why did Soapy move restlessly on his seat?
Why did the bear climb up a tree and ate the apples?
Who made the pact with the sun? What was it about?
Multiple Choice Question:
A house is made of ________
Bring out some of the sterling qualities of the character of Taro.
Or
Give a character sketch of Taro.
In groups of four, discuss the following lines and their meanings.
But only words can free a thought
From its prison behind your eyes
What does the broken glass window suggest?
Why does Maya think Mr Nath is a crook? Who does she say the Sunday visitor is?
What event were the children in Ray Bradbury’s story, ‘All Summer in a Day’ eagerly awaiting?
What does Cares say to bless the young couple?
| Caliban: |
No noise, and enter |
In the above lines taken from Act IV Scene i of the play, The Tempest, what does Caliban refer to by the phrase “good mischief“?
