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Question
In the short story, To Build a Fire, which "wild idea" came into the Man's head when all seemed lost?
Options
To identify the hidden pools.
Not to share his lunch with the dog.
To set the dog free.
To kill the dog and crawl into its carcass for warmth.
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Solution
To kill the dog and crawl into its carcass for warmth.
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RELATED QUESTIONS
Find the words in the text which show Ustad Bismillah Khan’s feelings about the items listed below. Then mark a tick (✓ ) in the correct column. Discuss your answers in class.
| Bismillah Khan’s Feelings about | Positive | Negative | Neutral |
|
1. teaching children music |
|||
| 2. the film world | |||
| 3. migrating to the U.S.A | |||
| 4. playing at temples | |||
| 5. getting the Bharat Ratna | |||
| 6. the banks of the Ganga | |||
| 7. leaving Benaras and Dumraon |
Thinking about the Poem
Is the poet now a child? Is his mother still alive?
Thinking about the Poem
How does the poet suggest that all people on earth are the same?
Thinking about Poem
The poet says “No” in the beginning of the third stanza. What does he mean by this?
Answer these question in one or two sentences . (The paragraph numbers within brackets provide clues to the answer.)
Give an example to show that even as a young girl Santosh was not ready to accept anything unreasonable.
Now rewrite the pair of sentences given below as one sentence.
I never thought of quitting. I knew what I wanted.
There was a time when our people covered the land as the waves of a wind-ruffled sea cover its shell-paved floor, but that time long since passed away with the greatness of tribes that are now but a mournful memory. 1 will not dwell on, nor mourn over, our untimely decay, nor reproach my paleface brothers with hastening it, as we too may have been somewhat to blame.
Youth is impulsive. When our young men grow angry at some real or imaginary wrong, and disfigure their faces with black paint, it denotes that their hearts are black, and that they are often cruel and relentless, and our old men and old women are unable to restrain them. Thus it has ever been. Thus it was when the white man began to push our forefathers ever westward. But let us hope that the hostilities between us may never return. We would have everything to lose and nothing to gain. Revenge by young men is considered gain, even at the cost of their own lives, but old men who stay at home in times of war, and mothers who have sons to lose, know better.
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
What hint does he give regarding the cause for the depletion of his race?
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.
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.
How do the White feel about their dead people?
Easton, with a little laugh, as if amused, was about to speak again when the other forestalled him. The glum-faced man had been watching the girl’s countenance with veiled glances from his keen, shrewd eyes.
“You’ll excuse me for speaking, miss, but, I see you’re acquainted with the marshall here. If you’ll ask him to speak a word for me when we get to the pen he’ll do it, and it’ll make things easier for me there. He’s taking me to Leavenworth prison. It’s seven years for counterfeiting.”
“Oh!” said the girl, with a deep breath and returning color. “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 a 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—”
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
What was the crime of the prisoner? And what is the punishment.
Lights were shining from every window, and there was a savoury smell of roast goose, for it was New-year’s eve—yes, she remembered that. In a corner, between two houses, one of which projected beyond the other, she sank down and huddled herself together. She had drawn her little feet under her, but she could not keep off the cold; and
she dared not go home, for she had sold no matches, and could not take home even a penny of money. Her father would certainly beat her; besides, it was almost as cold at home as here, for they had only the roof to cover them, through which the wind howled, although the largest holes had been stopped up with straw and rags. Her little hands were almost frozen with the cold. Ah! perhaps a burning match might be some good, if she could draw it from the bundle and strike it against the wall, just to warm her fingers. She drew one out—“scratch!” how it sputtered as it burnt! It gave a warm, bright light, like a little candle, as she held her hand over it. It was really a wonderful light. It seemed to the little girl that she was sitting by a large iron stove, with polished brass feet and a brass ornament. How the fire burned! and seemed so beautifully warm that the child stretched out her feet as if to warm them, when, lo! the flame of the match went out, the stove vanished, and she had only the remains of the half-burnt match in her hand.
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
Where did the girl seek some shelter from the cold?
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.
Why did the girl make haste to light the whole bundle of matches?
Then there it lay in her wet palm, perfect, even pierced ready for use, with the sunset shuffled about inside it like gold—?dust. All her heart went up in flames of joy. After a bit she twisted it into the top of her skirt against her tummy so she would know if it burst through the poor cloth and fell. Then she picked up her fork and sickle and the heavy grass and set off home. Ai! Ai! What a day! Her barefeet smudged out the wriggle— ?mark of snakes in the dust; there was the thin singing of malaria mosquitoes among the trees now; and this track was much used at night by a morose old makna elephant—the Tuskless One; but Sibia was not thinking of any of them. The stars came out: she did not notice. On the way back she met her mother, out of breath, come to look for her, and scolding. “I did not see till I was home, that you were not there. I thought something must have happened to you.” And Sibia, bursting with her story, cried “Something did). I found a blue bead for my necklace, look!”
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
Why did Sibia not tell her mother about her fight with the crocodile or how she saved the woman?
Answer the following question.
Finding good twigs for Kari took a long time. Why?
The crocodile lay on the bank of the Limpopo river. Golu thought it was
Answer the following questions.
(i) If someone doesn’t wear a uniform to school, what do you think the teacher will say?
Mark the right item.
When the old couple became rich, they
What material Mr Gessler used to make the boots?
Where did the old flea collected by Mr Wonka live?
Where did the author planned to do alongwith his friend?
CK Nayudu name is recorded in the history of cricket. What are. the reasons that make him a legend?
What was Purcell’s source of earning?
What did the second bird say to him?
With your partner, complete the following sentence in your own word using the ideas in the poem.
Do not let a thought shrivel and die because __________________.
Multiple Choice Question:
What does the word “marvellous’ mean?
Answer the following question.
“Then the situation changed.” What is being referred to?
Answer the following question.
Which of the following sums up the story best?
(i) “I also know that you will not kill your conscience for the sake of friendship.”
(ii) “Let no one deviate from the path of justice and truth for friendship or enmity.”
(iii) “The voice of the Panch is the voice of God.” Give a reason for your choice.
Answer the following question:
An old man won a clock and sold it back to the shopkeeper. How much money did he make?
Why were the hinges of the door rusty?
Why does the poet want to peep through the window as he passes it?
What else do you think Nishad and Maya will find out about him? How? Will they ever be friends? Think about these questions and write a paragraph or two to continue the story.
