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प्रश्न
Answer the following question.
Finding good twigs for Kari took a long time. Why?
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उत्तर
Finding good twigs for Kari took a long time because it was not an easy job to get luscious twigs and saplings for him. One had to have a very sharp hatchet to cut down these twigs. It took half an hour to sharpen the hatchet because if a twig is mutilated an elephant will not touch it. Also, the boy had to climb all kinds of trees to get the most delicate and tender twigs Kari was very fond of the young branches of the banyan tree which grew like a cathedral of leaves and branches.
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संबंधित प्रश्न
Think about the Text
Discuss in pairs and answer question below in a short paragraph (30 − 40 words).
What two “important” and “earth-shaking” decisions did the doctor take while he was
looking into the mirror?
We notice lots of details about people and their appearance, but in order to
vividly describe them , we need to be specific.
Working in pairs, look carefully at the people around you and complete the
table with appropriate words from the box given on the next page. You may
add words of your own to describe people.
| angular | close-cropped | well-tailored | well-tailored casual | stocky |
| elegant | unshaven | ill-fitting | formal | lanky |
| bearded | sloppy | medium | petite | hefty |
| balding | slim | plaited | thick | round |
| open | friendly | wavy | long | receding |
| over weight | sharp-featured |
| A | B | C | D | |
| Face | ||||
| Hair | ||||
| Dress | ||||
| Build |
What does he plant who plants a tree?
He plants cool shade and tender rain,
And seed and bud of days to be,
And years that fade and flush again;
He plants the glory of the plain;
He plants the forest's heritage;
The harvest of a coming age;
The joy that unborn eyes shall see___
These things he plants who plants a tree.
Read the lines given above and answer the question that follow:
How is it the harvest of a coming age?
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?
He flungs himself down in a corner to recoup from the fatigue of his visit to the shop. His wife said, “You are getting no sauce today, nor anything else. I can’t find anything to give you to eat. Fast till the evening, it’ll do you good. Take the goats and be gone now,” she cried and added, “Don’t come back before the sun is down.”
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
Where had Muni gone and why?
The horse was nearly life-size, moulded out of clay, baked, burnt, and brightly coloured, and reared its head proudly, prancing its forelegs in the air and flourishing its tail in a loop; beside the horse stood a warrior with scythelike mustachios, bulging eyes, and aquiline nose. The old image-makers believed in indicating a man of strength by bulging out his eyes and sharpening his moustache tips, and also decorated the man’s chest with beads which looked today like blobs of mud through the ravages of sun and wind and rain (when it came), but Muni would insist that he had known the beads to sparkle like the nine gems at one time in his life.
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
Describe the horse.
“So that is what you are doing out here? A marshal!” “My dear Miss Fairchild,” said ’ Easton, calmly, “I had to do something. Money has & way of taking wings unto itself, and
you know it takes money to keep step with our crowd in Washington. I saw this opening in the West, and—well, a marshalship isn’t quite as high a position as that of ambassador, but—” “The ambassador,” said the girl, warmly, “doesn’t call any more. He needn’t ever have done so. You ought to know that. And so now you are one of these dashing Western heroes, and you ride and shoot and go into all kinds of dangers. That’s different from the Washington life. You have been missed from the old crowd.” The girl’s eyes, fascinated, went back, widening a little, to rest upon the glittering handcuffs. “Don’t you worry about them, miss,” said the other man. “All marshals handcuff themselves to their prisoners to keep them from getting away. Mr. Easton knows his business.” “Will we see you again soon in Washington?” asked the girl. “Not soon, I think,” said Easton. “My butterfly days are over, I fear.”
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
Give three similarities between Mr Easton and a butterfly.
After considering the matter, and talking it over with his wife, farmer Jones said that he would take John, and do well by him, now that his mother was out of the way; and Mrs. Ellis, who had been looking out for a bound girl, concluded that it would be charitable in her to make choice of Katy, even though she was too young to be of much use for several years.
“I could do much better, I know,” said Mrs. Ellis; “but as no one seems inclined to take her, I must act from a sense of duty expect to have trouble with the child; for she’s an undisciplined thing—used to having her own way.”
But no one said “I’ll take Maggie.” Pitying glances were cast on her wan and wasted form and thoughts were troubled on her account. Mothers brought cast-off garments and, removing her soiled and ragged clothes, dressed her in clean attire. The sad eyes and patient face of the little one touched many hearts, and even knocked at them for entrance. But none opened to take her in. Who wanted a bed-ridden child?
“Take her to the poorhouse,” said a rough man, of whom the question “What’s to be done with Maggie?” was asked. “Nobody’s going to be bothered with her.”
“The poorhouse is a sad place for a sick and helpless child,” answered one.
“For your child or mine,” said the other, lightly speaking; “but for tis brat it will prove a blessed change, she will be kept clean, have healthy food, and be doctored, which is more than can be said of her past condition.”
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
Who offered to take John? Why?
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 idea do we get of the character of Mr Thompson?
Mark the right item.
The greedy couple borrowed the mill and the mortar to make
What happened when the king hear his courtiers talking about Hilsa fish?
What did Kari eat and how much?
Give the character sketch of the narrator.
How do the desert plants fulfill their need for water?
How did the mongoose prove his friendly nature?
What is the significance of dream?
Which all houses are characterised by the term ‘meadow houses’?
With your partner try to guess the meaning of the underlined phrase.
The afternoon turned black.
What is the job of a watchman?
What did the speaker’s brother say about the Shed?
