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प्रश्न
Why does the poet want to peep through the window as he passes it?
विकल्प
To see the ghost
To steal something
To find out if somebody is staring at him
To see his brother and his friends
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उत्तर
To find out if somebody is staring at him
APPEARS IN
संबंधित प्रश्न
Thinking about the Poem
Write the story of ‘A Legend of the Northland’ in about ten sentences.
What does he plant who plants a tree?
He plants, in sap and leaf and wood,
In love of home and loyalty
And far-cast thought of civic good____
His blessing on the neighbourhood,
Who in the hollow of his hand
Holds all the growth of all our land____
A nation's growth from sea to sea
Stirs in his heart who plants a tree.
Read the lines given above and answer the question that follow:
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching 'round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good , what can it be?
Good gracious, it's Penelope.)
The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr.Tod,the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin,Pigling Bland,
And Mrs.Tiggy-Winkle and-
Just How The Camel Got His Hump,
And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There's Mr.Rat and Mr. Mole-
Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!
Read the lines given above and answer the question given below.
Explain with reference to context.
The angel wrote and vanished.
The next night, It came again with a great wakening light,
And show's the names whom love of God had blest,
And Lo! Bin Adhem's name led all the rest.
Read the lines given above and answer the following question.
Where was Abou’s name written amongst those who loved God?
It matters little where we pass the remnant of our days. They will not be many. The Indian’s night promises to be dark. Not a single star of hope hovers above his horizon. Sad-voiced winds moan in the distance. Grim fate seems to be on the Red Man’s trail, and wherever he will hear the approaching footsteps of his fell destroyer and prepare stolidly to meet his doom, as does the wounded doe that hears the approaching footsteps of the hunter.
A few more moons, a few more winters, and not one of the descendants of the mighty hosts that once moved over this broad land or lived in happy homes, protected by the Great Spirit, will remain to mourn over the graves of a people once more powerful and hopeful than yours. But why should I mourn at the untimely fate of my people? Tribe follows tribe, and nation follows nation, like the waves of the sea. It is the order of nature, and regret is useless. Your time of decay may be distant, but it will surely come, for even the White Man whose God walked and talked with him as friend to friend, cannot be exempt from the common destiny. We may be brothers after all. We will see.
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
Why does Seattle say that they maybe brothers after all?
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.
What does the speaker say about death? Explain.
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.
What was Mr Oliver’s reaction when he saw the faceless boy? Whom did he stumble into?
Do the following activity in groups.
Go to the library and collect information about the lifestyle of people in desert areas— their food, clothes, work, social customs, etc. Share this information with the group.
What did the leader of the van do with the kind old man?
The author didn’t go for the bicycle ride he had planned with his friend why?
What misfortune came to Chandni after sunset?
The cook loved the bear like her own son. Justify.
The last two lines of the poem are not prohibitions or instructions. What is the adult now asking the child to do? Do you think the poet is suggesting that this is unreasonable? Why?
Does father lose all his hope of bringing the cat down?
Talk to your partner and say whether the following statement is true or false.
Snakes cannot hear, but they can feel vibrations through the ground.
Answer the following question.
Algu found himself in a tight spot. What was his problem?
How did the old aunt get justice?
What is being compared to a gray overcoat?
Write ‘True’ or ‘False’ against the following sentence.
The king lost his temper easily.
What does the speaker usually do while lying in the bed?
