Read the Extract Given Below and Answer the Question that Follow. Which Day of the Year Was It in the Story? - English 2 (Literature in English)

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Short Note

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.

Which day of the year was it in the story?

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Solution

It was terribly cold. It snowed, and it was nearly quite dark. It was New Year’s eve and the night was freezing cold.

Concept: Reading
  Is there an error in this question or solution?
Chapter 2.07: The Little Match Girl - Passage 1

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twinkling shifty discoloured short oval
pear-shaped large close-cropped broken long
protruding gapped thick pointed wide
fair thin pale swarthy staring 
square round untidy close-set neat
wavy upturned      

 

Shape of face Complexion Eyes  Hair Nose Lips Teeth
             
             
             
             
             
             
             

Now read the story

  1. "Ma!" Mrs. Bramble looked up, beaming with a kind of amiable fat-headedness. A domestic creature, wrapped up in Bill, her husband, and Harold, her son. At the present moment only the latter was with her. He sat on the other side of the table, his lips gravely pursed and his eyes a trifle cloudy behind their spectacles. Before him on the red tablecloth lay an open book. His powerful brain was plainly busy.
  2. "Yes, dearie?"
  3.  "Will you hear me?"
  4. Mrs. Bramble took the book.
  5. "Yes, mother will hear you, precious."
  6. A slight frown, marred the smoothness of Harold Bramble's brow. It jarred upon him, this habit of his mother's, of referring to herself in the third person, as if she were addressing a baby, instead of a young man of ten who had taken the spelling and dictation prize last term on his head. 
  7. He cleared his throat and fixed his eyes upon the cut-glass hangings of the chandelier.
  8. "Be good, sweet maid," he began, with the toneless rapidity affected by youths of his age when reciting poetry…..
  9. "You do study so hard, dearie, you'll give yourself a headache. Why don't you take a nice walk by the river for half an hour, and come back nice and fresh?"
  10. The spectacled child considered the point for a moment gravely. Then nodding, he arranged his books in readiness for his return and went out. The front door closed with a decorous softness.
  11. It was a constant source of amazement to Mrs. Bramble that she should have brought such a prodigy as Harold into the world. Harold was so different from ordinary children, so devoted to his books, such a model of behaviour, so altogether admirable. The only drawback was, that his very 'perfection' had made necessary a series of evasions and even deliberate falsehoods, on the part of herself and her husband, highly distasteful to both. They were lovers of truth, but they had realized that there are times when truth must be sacrificed. At any cost, the facts concerning Mr. Bramble's profession must be kept from Harold.
  12. While he was a baby it had not mattered so much. But when he began to move about and take notice, Mrs. Bramble said to Mr. Bramble, "Bill, we must keep it from Harold." A little later, when the child had begun to show signs of being about to become a model of goodness and intelligence, and had already taken two prizes at the Sunday-school, the senior curate of the parish, meeting Mr. Bramble one morning, said nervously-for after all, it was a delicate subject to broach, "Er-Bramble, I think, on the whole, it would be as well to-er-keep it from Harold."
  13. And only the other day, Mrs. Bramble's brother, Major Percy Stokes, dropping in for a cup of tea, had said, "I hope you are keeping it from Harold. It is the least you can do", and had gone on to make one or two remarks about men of wrath which, considering that his cheek-bones were glistening with Mr. Bramble's buttered toast, were in poor taste. But Percy was like that. Enemies said that he liked the sound of his own voice.
  14. Certainly he was very persuasive. Mr. Bramble had fallen in with the suggestion without demur. In private life he was the mildest and most obliging of men, and always yielded to everybody. The very naming of Harold had caused a sacrifice on his part.
  15. When it was certain that he was about to become a father, he had expressed a desire that the child should be named John, if a boy, after Mr John L. Sullivan, or, if a girl, Marie, after Miss Marie Lloyd. But Mrs Bramble saying that Harold was such a sweet name, he had withdrawn his suggestions with the utmost goodhumour.
  16. Nobody could help liking this excellent man which made it all the greater pity that his walk in life was of such a nature that it simply had to be kept from Harold.
  17. He was a professional boxer. That was the trouble.
  18. Before the coming of Harold, he had been proud of being a professional boxer. His ability to paste his fellow-man in the eye while apparently meditating an attack on his stomach, and vice versa, had filled him with that genial glow of self-satisfaction which comes to philanthropists and other benefactors of the species. It had seemed to him a thing on which to congratulate himself that of all London's teeming millions there was not a man, weighing eight stone four, whom he could not overcome in a twenty-round contest. He was delighted to be the possessor of a left hook which had won the approval of the newspapers.
  19. And then Harold had come into his life, and changed him into a furtive practitioner of shady deeds. Before, he had gone about the world with a match-box full of press-notices, which he would extract with a pin and read to casual acquaintances. Now, he quailed at the sight of his name in print, so thoroughly had he become imbued with the necessity of keeping it from Harold.
  20. With an ordinary boy it would not have mattered. However, Harold was different. Secretly proud of him as they were, both Bill and his wife were a little afraid of their wonderful child. The fact was, as Bill himself put it, Harold was showing a bit too much class for them. He had formed a corner in brains, as far as the Bramble family was concerned. They had come to regard him as being of a superior order.
  21. Yet Harold, defying the laws of heredity, had run to intellect as his father had run to  muscle. He had learned to read and write with amazing quickness. He sang in the choir.
  22. And now, at the age of ten, a pupil at a local private school where they wore mortar  boards and generally comported themselves like young dons, he had already won a prize for spelling and dictation. You simply couldn't take a boy like that aside and tell him that the father whom he believed to be a commercial traveller was affectionately known to a large section of the inhabitants of London, as "Young Porky." There were no two ways about it. You had to keep it from him.
  23. So, Harold grew in stature and intelligence, without a suspicion of the real identity of the square-jawed man with the irregularly-shaped nose who came and went mysteriously in their semi-detached, red-brick home. He was a self-centred child, and, accepting the commercial traveller fiction, dismissed the subject from his mind and busied himself with things of more moment. And time slipped by.
  24. Mrs. Bramble, left alone, resumed work on the sock which she was darning. For the first time since Harold had reached years of intelligence she was easy in her mind about the future. A week from tonight would see the end of all her anxieties. On that day Bill would fight his last fight, the twenty-round contest with that American Murphy at the National Sporting Club for which he was now training at the White Hart down the road. He had promised that it would be the last. He was getting on. He was thirty-one, and he said himself that he would have to be chucking the game before it chucked him. His idea was to retire from active work and try for a job as an instructor at one of these big schools or colleges. He had a splendid record for respectability and sobriety and all the other qualities which headmasters demanded in those who taught their young gentlemen to box and several of his friends who had obtained similar posts described the job in question as extremely soft. So that it seemed to Mrs. Bramble, that all might now be considered well. She smiled happily to herself as she darned her sock.
  25. She was interrupted in her meditations by a knock at the front door. She put down her sock and listened.
  26. Martha, the general, pattered along the passage, and then there came the sound of voices speaking in an undertone. Footsteps made themselves heard in the passage. The door opened. The head and shoulders of Major Percy Stokes insinuated themselves into the room.
  27. The Major cocked a mild blue eye at her.
  28. "Harold anywhere about?"
  29. "He's gone out for a nice walk. Whatever brings you here, Percy, so late? "
  30. Percy made no answer. He withdrew his head.
  31. He then reappeared, this time in his entirety, and remained holding the door open. More footsteps in the passage, and through the doorway in a sideways fashion suggestive of a diffident crab, came a short, sturdy, red-headed man with a broken nose and a propitiatory smile, at the sight of whom Mrs. Bramble, dropping her sock, rose as if propelled by powerful machinery, and exclaimed, "Bill!"
  32. Mr. Bramble - for it was he - scratched his head, grinned feebly, and looked for assistance to the Major.
  33. "The scales have fallen from his eyes."
  34. "What scales?" demanded Mrs. Bramble, a literal-minded woman. "And what are you doing here, Bill, when you ought to be at the White Hart, training?"
  35. "That's just what I'm telling you," said Percy. "I’ve been wrestling with Bill, and I have been vouchsafed the victory."
  36. "You!" said Mrs. Bramble, with uncomplimentary astonishment, letting her gaze wander over her brother's weedy form.
  37. "Jerry Fisher's a hard nut," said Mr. Bramble, apologetically. "He don't like people coming round talking to a man he's training, unless he introduces them or they're newspaper gents."
  38. "After that I kept away. But I wrote the letters and I sent the tracts. Bill, which of the tracts was it that snatched you from the primrose path?"
  39. "It wasn't so much the letters, Perce. It was what you wrote about Harold. You see, Jane---"
  40. "Perhaps you'll kindly allow me to get a word in edgeways, you two," said Mrs.Bramble, her temper for once becoming ruffled. "You can stop talking for half an instant, Percy, if you know how, while Bill tells me what he's doing here when he ought to be at the White Hart with Mr. Fisher, doing his bit of training."
  41. Mr. Bramble met her eye and blinked awkwardly.
  42. " Percy's just been telling you, Jane. He wrote---"
  43. "I haven't made head or tail of a single word that Percy's said, and I don't expect to. All I want is a plain answer to a plain question. What are you doing here, Bill, instead of being at the White Hart? "
  44. "I've come home, Jane."
  45. "Glory!" exclaimed the Major.
  46. "Percy, if you don't keep quiet, I'll forget I'm your sister and let you have one. What
    do you mean, Bill, you've come home? Isn't there going to be the fight next week,
    after all?"
  47. "The fight's over," said the unsuppressed Major, joyfully, "and Bill's won, with me
    seconding him."
  48. "Percy!"
  49. Mr. Bramble pulled himself together with a visible effort.
  50. "I'm not going to fight, Jane," he said, in a small voice.
  51. '' You're not going--!"
  52. "He's seen the error of his ways," cried Percy, the resilient."That's what he's gone
    and done. At the eleventh hour."
  53. "Oh! I have waited for this joyful moment. I have watched for it. I---"
  54. "You're not going to fight!"
  55. Mr. Bramble, avoiding his wife's eye, shook his head.
  56. "And how about the money?"
  57. "What's money? " said the Major, scornfully.
  58. "You ought to know," snapped Mrs. Bramble, turning on him. "You've borrowed
    enough of it from me in your time."
  59. The Major waved a hand in wounded silence. He considered the remark in poor
    taste.
  60. "How about the money?" repeated Mrs. Bramble. "Goodness knows I've never liked your profession, Bill, but there is this to be said for it, that it's earned you good money and made it possible for us to give Harold as good an education as any Duke ever had, I'm sure. And you know, you yourself said that the five hundred pounds you were going to get if you beat this Murphy, and even if you lost it would be a hundred and twenty, was going to be a blessing, because it would let us finish him off proper and give him a better start in life than you or me ever had, and now
    you let this Percy come over you with his foolish talk, and now I don't know what will happen."
  61. There was an uncomfortable silence. Even Percy seemed to be at a loss for words. Mrs. Bramble sat down and began to sob. Mr. Bramble shuffled his feet.
  62. "Talking of Harold," said Mr. Bramble at last, " That's , really what I'm driving at. It was him only whom I was thinking of when I hopped it from the White Hart. It would be written up in all the papers, instead of only in the sporting ones. As likely as not there would be a piece about it in the Mail, with a photograph of me. And you know Harold reads his Mail regularly. And then, don't you see, the fat would be in the fire. "That's what Percy pointed out to me, and I seen what he meant, so I hopped it."
  63. "At the eleventh hour," added the Major, rubbing in the point.
  64. "You see, Jane---" Mr. Bramble was beginning, when there was a knock at the door, and a little, ferret-faced man in a woollen sweater and cycling knickerbockers entered, removing as he did so a somewhat battered bowler hat.
  65. "Beg pardon, Mrs. Bramble," he said, " coming in like this. Found the front door ajar, so came in, to ask if you'd happened to have seen-"
  66. He broke off and stood staring wildly at the little group.
  67. "I thought so!" he said, and shot through the air towards Percy.
  68. "Jerry !" said Bill.
  69. "Mr. Fisher!" said Mrs. Bramble,
  70. "Be reasonable," said the Major, diving underneath the table and coming up the other side like a performing seal.
  71. "Let me get at him," begged the intruder, struggling to free himself from Bill's restraining arms.
  72. Mrs. Bramble rapped on the table.
  73. "Kindly remember there's a lady present, Mr. Fisher."
  74. The little man's face became a battlefield on which rage, misery, and a respect for the decencies of social life struggled for mastery.
  75. "It's hard," he said at length, in a choked voice. "I just wanted to break his neck for him, but I suppose it's not to be. I know it's him that's at the bottom of it. And here I find them together, so I know it's him. Well, if you say so, Mrs. B., I suppose I mustn't put a hand on him. But it's hard. Bill, you come back along with me to the White Hart. I'm surprised at you. Ashamed of you, I am. All the time you and me have known each other, I've never known you do such a thing. You are such a pleasure to train as a rule. It all comes of getting with bad companions."
  76. Mr. Bramble looked at his brother-in-law miserably.
  77. "You tell him," he said.
  78. "You tell him, Jane," said the Major.
  79. "I won't," said Mrs. Bramble.
  80. "Tell him what? " asked the puzzled trainer.
  81. "Well?"
  82. "It's only that I'm not going to fight on Monday."
  83. "What!"
  84. "Bill has seen a sudden bright light," said Percy, edging a few inches to the left, so that the table was exactly between the trainer and himself. "At the eleventh hour, he has turned from his wicked ways. You ought to be singing with joy, Mr. Fisher, if you really loved Bill. This ought to be the happiest evening you've ever known. You ought to be singing like a little child."
  85. A strange, guttural noise escaped the trainer. It may have been a song, but it did not sound like it.
  86. "It's true, Jerry," said Bill, unhappily. "I have been thinking it over, and I'm not going to fight on Monday."
  87. "Glory!" said the Major, tactlessly.
  88. Jerry Fisher's face was a study in violent emotions. His eyes seemed to protrude from their sockets like a snail's. He clutched the tablecloth.
  89. "I'm sorry, Jerry," said Bill. " I know it's hard on you. But I've got to think of Harold. This fight with Jimmy Murphy being what you might call a kind of national affair, in a way of speaking, will be reported in The Mail as like as not, with a photograph of me, and Harold reads The Mail regular. We've been keeping it from him all these years that I'm in the profession, and we can't let him know now. He would die of shame, Jerry."
  90. Tears appeared in Jerry Fisher's eyes.
  91. "Bill," he cried, " you're off your head. Think of the purse!"
  92. "Ah!" said Mrs. Bramble.
  93. "Think of all the swells that'll be coming to see you. Think of what the papers'll say. Think of me."
  94. "I know, Jerry, it's chronic. But Harold---"
  95. "Think of all the trouble you've taken for the last few weeks getting yourself into condition."
  96. "I know. But Har---"
  97. "You can't not fight on Monday."
  98. "But Harold, Jerry. He'd die of the disgrace of it. He ain't like you and me, Jerry. He's a little gentleman. I got to think of Harold"
  99. "What about me, pa?" said a youthful voice at the door; and Bill's honest blood froze at the sound. His jaw fell, and he goggled dumbly.
  100. There, his spectacles gleaming in the gaslight, his cheeks glowing with the exertion of the nice walk, his eyebrows slightly elevated with surprise, stood Harold himself.
  101. "Halloa, pa! Halloa, Uncle Percy! Somebody's left the front door open. What were you saying about thinking about me, pa? Ma, will you hear me, my piece of poetry again? I think I've forgotten it."
  102. The four adults surveyed the innocent child in silence.
  103. On the faces of three of them consternation was written. In the eyes of the fourth, Mr. Fisher, there glittered that nasty, steely expression of the man, who sees his way to getting a bit of his own back, Mr. Fisher's was not an un-mixedly chivalrous nature. He considered that he had been badly treated, and what he wanted most at the moment was revenge. He had been fond and proud of Bill Bramble, but those emotions belonged to the dead past. Just at present, he felt that he disliked Bill rather more than anyone else in the world, with the possible exception of Major Percy Stokes.
  104. "So you're Harold, are you, Tommy? " he said, in a metallic voice." Then just you listen here a minute."
  105. "Jerry," cried Bill, advancing, "you keep your mouth shut, or I'll dot you one."
  106. Mr. Fisher retreated and, grasping a chair, swung it above his head.
  107. "You better! " he said, curtly.
  108. ''Mr. Fisher, do be a gentleman," entreated Mrs. Bramble.
  109. "My dear sir." There was a crooning winningness in Percy's voice. "My dear sir, do nothing hasty. Think before you speak. Don't go and be so silly as to act like a mutton-head. I'd be ashamed to be so spiteful. Respect a father's feelings."
  110. "Tommy," said Mr. Fisher, ignoring them all, "you think your pa's a commercial. He ain't. He's a fighting-man, doing his eight-stone-four ringside, and known to all the heads as ' Young Porky.' "
  111. Bill sank into a chair. He could see Harold's round eyes staring at him.
  112. "I'd never have thought it of you, Jerry," he said, miserably. "If anyone had come to me and told me that you could have acted so raw I'd have dotted him one."
  113. "And if anyone had come to me and told me that I should live to see the day when you broke training a week before a fight at the National, I'd given him one for himself."
  114. "Harold, my lad," said Percy, "you mustn't think none the worse of your pa for having been a man of wrath. He hadn't seen the bright light then. It's all over now. He's given it up for ever, and there's no call for you to feel ashamed."
  115. Bill seized on the point.
  116. "That's right, Harold," he said, reviving, "I've given it up. I was going to fight an American named Murphy at the National next Monday, but I ain't going to now, not if they come to me on their bended knees. Not even if the King of England came to me on his bended knees."
  117. Harold drew a deep breath.
  118. "Oh!" he cried, shrilly. "Oh, aren't you? Then what about my two bob? What about my two bob, I've betted Dicky Saunders that Jimmy Murphy won't last ten rounds?"
  119. He looked round the room wrathfully.
  120. "It's thick," he said in the crisp, gentlemanly, voice of which his parents were so proud. "It's jolly thick. That's what it is. A chap takes the trouble to study form and saves up his pocket-money to have a bet on a good thing, and then he goes and gets let down like this. It may be funny to you, but I call it rotten. And another thing I call rotten is you having kept it from me all this time that you were 'Young Porky,' pa. That's what I call so jolly rotten! There's a fellow at our school who goes about swanking in the most rotten way because he once got Phil Scott's autograph. Fellows look up to him most awfully, and all the time they might have been doing it to me. That's what makes me so jolly sick. How long do you suppose they'd go on calling me, 'Goggles' if they knew that you were my father? They'd chuck it tomorrow, and look up to me like anything, I do call it rotten. And chucking it up like this is the limit. What do you want to do it for? It's the silliest idea, I've ever heard. Why, if you beat Jimmy Murphy they'll have to give you the next chance with Sid
    Sampson for the Lonsdale belt. Jimmy beat Ted Richards, and Ted beat the Ginger Nut, and the Ginger Nut only lost on a foul to Sid Sampson, and you beat Ted Richards, so they couldn't help letting you have the next go at Sid."
  121. Mr. Fisher beamed approval.
  122. "If I've told your pa that once, I've told him twenty times," he said. "You certainly know a thing or two, Tommy."
  123. "Well, I've made a study of it since I was a kid, so I jolly well ought to. All the fellows at our place are frightfully keen on it. One chap's got a snapshot of Jimmy Wilde. At least, he says it's Jimmy Wilde, but I believe it's just some ordinary fellow. Anyhow, it's jolly blurred, so it might be anyone. Pa, can't you give me a picture of yourself boxing? I could swank like anything. And you don't know how sick a chap gets of having chaps call him, 'Goggles.' "
  124. "Bill," said Mr. Fisher, "you and me had better be getting back to the White Hart."
  125. Bill rose and followed him without a word.
  126. Harold broke the silence which followed their departure. The animated expression which had been on his face as he discussed the relative merits of Sid Sampson and the Ginger Nut had given place to the abstracted gravity of the student.
  127. "Ma!"
  128. Mrs. Bramble started convulsively.
  129. "Yes, dearie?"
  130. "Will you hear me? "
  131. Mrs. Bramble took the book.
  132. ''Yes, mother will hear you, precious," she said, mechanically.
  133. Harold fixed his eyes upon the cut-glass hangings of the chandelier.
  134. "Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever-clever. Do noble things.. "

About the Author
Sir Pelham Grenville Wodehouse, KBE (15 October 1881 - 14 February 1975) was a comic writer who enjoyed enormous popular success during his career as an acknowledged master of English prose. Wodehouse has been admired both by his contemporaries such as Hilaire Belloc, Evelyn Waugh and Rudyard Kipling and by modern writers such as Douglas Adams, Salman Rushdie, Zadie Smith and Terry Pratchett.
Best known today for his Jeeves and Blandings Castle novels and short stories, Wodehouse was also a playwright and lyricist who was part author and writer of 15 plays and of 250 lyrics for some 30 musical comedies. He worked with Cole Porter on the musical 'Anything Goes' (1934) and frequently collaborated with Jerome Kern and Guy Bolton. He wrote the lyrics for the hit song "Bill" in Kern's Show Boat (1927), wrote the lyrics for the Gershwin - Romberg’s musical Rosalie (1928) and collaborated with Rudolf Friml on a musical version of The Three Musketeers (1928).


This poem describes the journey of a stream from its place of origin to the river that it joins. The poem has been written in the form of an autobiography where the brook relates its experiences as it flows towards the river. In Literature such a device by which an inanimate object is made to appear as a living creature is called Personification. Just as the brook has been personified in this poem, write a poem on any inanimate object making it come alive. You could begin with a poem of 6-8 lines. The poem should have a message. Maintain a rhyme scheme. Try and include similes, metaphors, alliteration etc. to enhance the beauty of the poem. You could write a poem on objects such as the candle/a tree/a rock/the desert etc.
This could be given as a homework activity. The teacher could read out some of the poems in the class and display the others.


On the basis of your understanding of the poem, answer the following question
by ticking the correct choice.

In the poem, a traveller comes to a fork in the road and needs to decide which way to go
to continue his journey. Figuratively the choice of the road denotes
______________________


Now read the poem.
Behold her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;
Stop here, or gently pass!
 Alone she cuts, and binds the grain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
O listen! for the vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound.
No nightingale did ever chant
 More welcome notes to weary bands
Of travellers in some shady haunt.
Among Arabian Sands

A voice so thrilling ne' er was heard
In spring-time from the cuckoo-bird,
 Breaking the silence of the seas
Among the farthest Hebrides.
Will no one tell me what she sings?
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
 And battles long ago:
Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of to-day ?
Same natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
that has been, and may be again ?
 Whate'er the theme, the maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o'er the sickle bending;
I listen'd, motionless and still;
 And, as I mounted up the hill,
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.

About the Poet
William Wordsworth was born on 7th April 1770, in Cockermouth in the Lake District,
England. When many poets still wrote about ancient heroes in their grandiloquent
style, Wordsworth focused on nature, children, the poor, common people and used
ordinary words to express his feelings. He defined poetry as "the spontaneous
overflow of powerful feelings" arising from "emotions recollected in tranquility". He
died at Rydal Mount on April 23, 1850.


On the basis of your understanding of the poem, answer the following question
by ticking the correct choice.

The central idea of the poem 'The Solitary Reaper' is _____.


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 __________.


Read the play as a whole class with different children reading different parts.
SCENE : The kitchen of the Bishop's cottage, It is plainly but substantially furnished. Doors
R, and L and L.C. Window R.C. Fireplace with heavy mantelpiece down R. Oak settee with
cushions behind door L.C. Table in window R.C. with writing materials and crucifix (wood).
Eight-day clock R. of window. Kitchen dresser with cupboard to lock, down L. Oak dinner
table R.C. Chairs, books, etc. Winter wood scene without. On the mantel piece are two very
handsome candlesticks which look strangely out of place with their surroundings.
[Marie and Persome discovered. Marie stirring some soup on the fire. Persome laying the
cloth, etc.]
Persome: Marie, isn' t the soup boiling yet ?
Marie: Not yet, madam.
Persome: Well, it ought to be. You haven't tended the fire properly, child.
Marie: But, madam, you yourself made the fire up.
Persome: Don't answer me back like that. It is rude.
Marie: Yes, madam.
Persome: Then don't let me have to rebuke you again.
Marie: No, madam.
Persome: I wonder where my brother can be. (Looking at the clock.) It is after eleven o'clock and no sign of him. Marie !
Marie: Yes, madam.
Persome: Did Monseigneur the Bishop leave any message for me ?
Marie: No, madam.
Persome: Did he tell you where he was going?
Marie: Yes, madam.
Persome (imitating): 'Yes, madam'. Then why haven't you told me, stupid!
Marie: Madam didn't ask me.
Persome: But that is no reason for you not telling me, is it ?
Marie: Madam said only this morning I was not to chatter, so I thought...

Persome: Ah, Mon Dieu! You thought! Ah! It is hopeless.
Marie: Yes, madam.
Persome: Don't keep saying 'Yes, Madam' like a parrot, nincompoop!
Marie: No, madam.
Persome: Well. Where did Monseigneur say he was going?
Marie: To my mother's, madam.
Persome: To your mother's indeed ! And why, pray ?
Marie. Monseigneur asked me how she was, and I told him she was feeling poorly.
Persome : You told him she was feeling poorly did you? And so my brother is to be kept out of his bed, and go without his supper because you told him she was feeling poorly. There's gratitude for you!
Marie: Madam, the soup is boiling!
Persome: Then pour it out, fool, and don't chatter. (Marie about to do so.) No, no, not like that. Here, let me do it, and did you put the salt-cellars on the table-the silver ones?
Marie: The silver ones, madam?
Persome: Yes, the silver ones. Are you deaf as well as stupid?
Marie: They are sold, madam.
Persome: Sold! (with horror) Sold! Are you mad? Who sold them? Why were they sold?
Marie: Monseigneur the Bishop told me this afternoon, while you were out, to take them to Monseigneur Gervais, who has often admired them, and sell them for as much as I could.
Persome: But you had no right to do so without asking me.
Marie (with awe): But, madam, Monseigneur the Bishop told me.
Persome: Monseigneur the Bishop is a-ahem! But-but what can he have wanted with the money!
Marie: Pardon, madam, but I think it was for Mere Gringoire.

Persome: Mere Gringoire indeed! Mere Gringoire! What, the old witch who lives at the top of the hill, and who says she is bedridden because she is too lazy to do any work? And what did Mere Gringoire want with the money, pray ?
Marie: Madam, it was for the rent. The bailiff would not wait any longer, and threatened to turn her out to-day if it were not paid, so she sent little Jean to Monseigneur to
ask for help, and-
Persome: Oh, mon Dieu! It is hopeless, hopeless. We shall have nothing left. His estate is sold, his savings have gone. His furniture, everything. Were it not for my little dot we should starve ! And now my beautiful-beautiful (sobs) salt-cellars. Ah, it is too much, too much. (She breaks down crying.)
Marie: Madam, I am sorry, if I had known-
Persome: Sorry, and why pray? If Monseigneur the Bishop chooses to sell his salt-cellars
he may do so, I suppose. Go and wash your hands, they are disgracefully dirty.
Marie: Yes, madam (going towards R.)
[Enter the Bishop, C.]
Bishop: Ah! How nice and warm it is in here! It is worth going out in the cold for the sake of the comfort of coming in. [Persome has hastened to help him off with his coat etc. Marie has dropped a deep courtesy.]
Bishop: Thank you, dear. (Looking at her.) Why, what is the matter ? You have been crying. Has Marie been troublesome, eh ? (shaking his finger at her) Ah !
Persome: No, it wasn't Marie-but-but-
Bishop: Well, well, you shall tell me presently! Marie, my child, run home now; your mother is better. I have prayed with her, and the doctor has been. Run home! (Marie putting on cloak and going.) And, Marie, let yourself in quietly in case your mother is asleep.
Marie: Oh, thanks, thanks, Monseigneur. [She goes to door C. ; as it opens the snow drives in.]
Bishop: Here, Marie, take my comforter, it will keep you warm. It is very cold to-night.
Marie: Oh, no Monseigneur ! (shamefacedly). What nonsense, brother, she is young, she won't hurt.
Bishop: Ah, Persome, you have not been out, you don't know how cold it has become. Here, Marie, let me put it on for you. (Does so) There! Run along little one.
[Exit Marie, C.]
Persome: Brother, I have no patience with you. There, sit down and take your soup, it has been waiting ever so long. And if it is spoilt, it serves you right.
Bishop: It smells delicious.
Persome: I'm sure Marie's mother is not so ill that you need have stayed out on such a night as this. I believe those people pretend to be ill just to have the Bishop call on them. They have no thought of the Bishop!
Bishop: It is kind of them to want to see me.
Persome: Well, for my part, I believe that charity begins at home.
Bishop: And so you make me this delicious soup. You are very good to me, sister.
Persome: Good to you, yes! I should think so. I should like to know where you would be without me to look after you. The dupe of every idle scamp or lying old woman in the parish!
Bishop: If people lie to me they are poorer, not I.
Persome: But it is ridiculous; you will soon have nothing left. You give away everything, everything!!!
Bishop: My dear, there is so much suffering in the world, and I can do so little (sighs), so very little.
Persome: Suffering, yes; but you never think of the suffering you cause to those who love you best, the suffering you cause to me.
Bishop (rising): You, sister dear ? Have I hurt you ? Ah, I remember you had been crying. Was it my fault ? I didn' t mean to hurt you. I am sorry.
Persome: Sorry. Yes. Sorry won't mend it. Humph ! Oh, do go on eating your soup before it gets cold.
Bishop: Very well, dear. (Sits.) But tell me-
Persome: You are like a child. I can't trust you out of my sight. No sooner is my back turned than you get that little minx Marie to sell the silver salt-cellars.
Bishop: Ah, yes, the salt-cellars. It is a pity. You-you were proud of them ?

Persome: Proud of them. Why, they have been in our family for years.
Bishop: Yes, it is a pity. They were beautiful; but still, dear, one can eat salt out of china just as well.
Persome: Yes, or meat off the floor, I suppose. Oh, it's coming to that. And as for that old wretch, Mere Gringoire, I wonder she had the audacity to send here again. The last time I saw her I gave her such a talking to that it ought to have had some effect.
Bishop: Yes! I offered to take her in here for a day or two, but she seemed to think it might distress you.
Persome: Distress me !!!
Bishop: And the bailiff, who is a very just man, would not wait longer for the rent, so -soyou see I had to pay it.
Persome: You had to pay it. (Gesture of comic despair.)
Bishop: Yes, and you see I had no money so I had to dispose off the salt-cellars. It was fortunate I had them, wasn't it ? (Smiling) But I'm sorry, I have grieved you.
Persome: Oh, go on! Go on! You are incorrigible. You'll sell your candlesticks next.
Bishop (with real concern): No, no, sister, not my candlesticks.
Persome: Oh! Why not ? They would pay somebody's rent, I suppose.
Bishop: Ah, you are good, sister, to think of that; but-but I don't want to sell them. You see, dear, my mother gave them to me on-on her death-bed just after you were born, and-and she asked me to keep them in remembrance of her, so I would like to keep them; but perhaps it is a sin to set such store by them ?
Persome: Brother, brother, you will break my heart (with tears in her voice). There! Don't say anything more. Kiss me and give me your blessing. I'm going to bed. (He blesses her)
[Bishop makes the sign of the Cross and murmurs a blessing. Persome locks up the
cupboard door and goes R.]
Persome: Don't sit up too long and tire your eyes.
Bishop: No, dear! Good night! [Persome exits R.]
Bishop (comes to table and opens a book, then looks up at the candlesticks). They
would pay somebody's rent. It was kind of her to think of that. [He stirs the fire, trims the lamp, arranges some books and papers, sits down, is restless, shivers slightly ; the clock outside strikes twelve and he settles down to read. Music during this. Enter a Convict stealthily ; he has a long knife and seizes the Bishop from behind]
Convict: If you call out you are a dead man !
Bishop: But, my friend, as you see, I am reading. Why should I call out? Can I help you in any way ?
Convict (hoarsely): I want food. I'm starving, I haven't eaten anything for three days. Give me food quickly, quickly, curse you!
Bishop (eagerly): But certainly, my son, you shall have food. I will ask my sister for the keys of the cupboard. [Rising.] Convict: Sit down !!! (The Bishop sits smiling.) None of that, my friend! I'm too old a bird to be caught with chaff. You would ask your sister for the keys, would you ? A likely
story! You would rouse the house too. Eh ? Ha! ha! A good joke truly. Come, where is the food ? I want no keys. I have a wolf inside me tearing at my entrails, tearing me; quick, tell me; where the food is?
Bishop (aside): I wish Persome would not lock the cupboard. (Aloud) Come, my friend, you have nothing to fear. My sister and I are alone here.
Convict: How do I know that ?
Bishop : Why, I have just told you. [Convict looks long at the Bishop.]
Convict: Humph! I'll risk it. (Bishop, going to door R.) But mind! Play me false and as sure as there are devils in hell, I'll drive my knife through your heart. I have nothing to lose.
Bishop: You have your soul to lose, my son; it is of more value than my heart. (At door R.,
calling.) Persome! Persome! [The Convict stands behind him, with his knife ready.]
Persome (within): Yes, brother.
Bishop: Here is a poor traveller who is hungry. If you have not settled as yet, will you
come and open the cupboard and I will give him some supper. Persome (within). What, at this time of night ? A pretty business truly. Are we to have no sleep now, but to be at the beck and call of every ne'er-do-well who happens to pass?
Bishop: But, Persome, the traveller is hungry. Perome. Oh, very well. I am coming. (Persome enters R. She sees the knife in the Convict's hand.) (Frightened) Brother, what is he doing with that knife?
Bishop: The knife-oh, well, you see, dear, perhaps he may have thought that I-I had sold
ours. [Laughs gently.]
Persome: Brother, I am frightened. He glares at us like a wild beast (aside to him).
Convict: Hurry, I tell you. Give me food or I'll stick my knife in you both and help myself.
Bishop: Give me the keys, Persome (she gives the keys to him). And now, dear, you may
go to bed. [Persome going. The Convict springs in front of her. ]
Convict : Stop! Neither of you shall leave this room till I do. [She looks at the Bishop.]
Bishop: Persome, will you favour this gentleman with your company at supper ? He
evidently desires it.
Persome: Very well, brother. [She sits down at the table staring at the two.]
Bishop: Here is some cold pie and a bottle of wine and some bread.
Convict: Put them on the table, and stand behind it so that I can see you. [Bishop does so and opens drawer in table, taking out knife and fork, looking at
the knife in Convict's hand.]
Convict: My knife is sharp. (He runs his finger along the edge and looks at them meaningfully.) And as for forks…. (taking it up) (laughs) Steel! (He throws it away). We don't use forks in prison.
Persome: Prison ?
Convict: (Cutting off an enormous slice from the pie he tears it with his fingers like an animal. Then starts) What was that ? (He looks at the door.) Why the devil do you leave the window unshuttered and the door unbarred so that anyone can come in ? (shutting them.)

Bishop: That is why they are left open.
Convict: Well, they are shut now !
Bishop (sighs): For the first time in thirty years. [Convict eats voraciously and throws a bone on the floor.]
Persome: Oh, my nice clean floor! [Bishop picks up the bone and puts it on plate.]
Convict: You're not afraid of thieves?
Bishop: I am sorry for them.
Convict: Sorry for them. Ha ! Ha ! Ha! (Drinks from bottle,) That's a good one. Sorry for them. Ha! Ha! Ha! (Drinks) (suddenly) Who the devil are you ?
Bishop: I am a Bishop.
Convict: Ha! Ha ! Ha ! A Bishop! Holy Virgin, a Bishop.
Bishop: I hope you may escape that, my son. Persome, you may leave us; this gentleman will excuse you.
Persome: Leave you with-
Bishop: Please! My friend and I can talk more-freely then. [By this time, owing to his starving condition, the wine has affected the Convict:]
Convict: What's that ? Leave us. Yes, yes, leave us. Good night. I want to talk to the Bishop, The Bishop: Ha! Ha! [Laughs as he drinks, and coughs.]
Bishop: Good night, Persome: [He holds the door open and she goes out R., holding in her skirts as she passes the Convict:]
Convict (chuckling to himself): The Bishop: Ha ! Ha ! Well I'm-(Suddenly very loudly) D'you know what I am ?
Bishop: I think one who has suffered much.
Convict: Suffered ? (puzzled) Suffered? My God, yes. (Drinks) But that's a long time ago. Ha! Ha! That was when I was a man. Now I'm not a man; now I'm a number; number 15729, and I've lived in Hell for ten years.

Bishop. Tell me about it-about Hell.
Convict: Why? (Suspiciously) Do you want to tell the police-to set them on my track ?
Bishop: No! I will not tell the police.
Convict: (looks at him earnestly). I believe you (scratching his head), but damn me if I knew why.
Bishop. (laying his hand on the Convict's arm). Tell me about the time, the time before
you went to Hell.
Convict: It's been so long ago.... I forget; but I had a little cottage, there were vines growing on it. (Dreamily) They looked pretty with the evening sun on them, and, and.... there was a woman, she was (thinking hard), she must have been my wife-yes. (Suddenly and very rapidly). Yes, I remember! She was ill, we had no food, I could get no work, it was a bad year, and my wife, my Jeanette, was ill, dying (pause), so I stole to buy food for her. (Long pause. The Bishop gently pats
his hand.) They caught me. I pleaded with them, I told them why I stole, but they laughed at me, and I was sentenced to ten years in the prison hulks (pause), ten years in Hell. The night I was sentenced, the gaoler told me-told me Jeanette was dead. (Sobs with fury) Ah, damn them, damn them. God curse them all. [He sinks on the table, sobbing.]
Bishop: Now tell me about the prison ship, about Hell.
Convict: Tell you about it ? Look here, I was a man once. I'm a beast now, and they made
me what I am. They chained me up like a wild animal, they lashed me like a hound. I fed on filth, I was covered, with vermin, I slept on boards, and when I complained, they lashed me again. For ten years, ten years. Oh God! They took away my name, they took away my soul, and they gave me a devil in its place. But one day they were careless, one day they forgot to chain up their wild beast,
and he escaped. He was free. That was six weeks ago. I was free, free to starve.
Bishop: To starve ?
Convict: Yes, to starve. They feed you in Hell, but when you escape from it you starve. They were hunting me everywhere and I had no passport, no name. So I stole again. I stole these rags. I stole my food daily. I slept in the woods, in barns, any where. I dare not ask for work, I dare not go into a town to beg, so I stole, and they have made me what I am, they have made me a thief. God curse them all. [Empties the bottle and throws it into the fire-place R., smashing it.]

Bishop: My son, you have suffered much, but there is hope for all.
Convict: Hope ! Hope ! Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! [Laughs wildly.]
Bishop: You have walked far; you are tired. Lie down and sleep on the couch there, and I will get you some coverings.
Convict: And if anyone comes ?
Bishop: No one will come; but if they do, are you not my friend ?
Convict: Your friend ? (puzzled)
Bishop: They will not molest the Bishop's friend.
Convict: The Bishop's friend. [Scratching his head, utterly puzzled]
Bishop: I will get the coverings. [Exit L.]
Convict: (looks after him, scratches his head) The Bishop's friend! (He goes to fire to warm himself and notices the candlesticks, He looks round to see if he is alone, and takes them down, weighing them.) Silver, by God, heavy. What a prize! [He hears the Bishop coming, and in his haste drops one candlestick on the table.] [Enter the Bishop]
Bishop: (sees what is going on, but goes to the settee up L. with coverings.) Ah, you are
admiring my candlesticks. I am proud of them. They were a gift from my mother.
A little too handsome for this poor cottage perhaps, but all I have to remind me of
her. Your bed is ready. Will you lie down now ?
Convict: Yes, yes, I'll lie down now. (puzzled) -Look here, why the devil are you kind to
me? (Suspiciously). What do you want? Eh?
Bishop: I want you to have a good sleep, my friend.
Convict: I believe you want to convert me; save my soul, don't you call it? Well, it's no
good-see? I don't want any damned religion, and as for the Church-bah! I hate
the Church.
Bishop: That is a pity, my son, as the Church does not hate you.
Convict: You are going to try to convert me. Oh! Ha! ha! That's a good idea. Ha ! ha ! ha! No, no, Monseigneur the Bishop: I don't want any of your Faith, Hope, and Charity --see? So anything you do for me you're doing to the devil-understand? (defiantly)

Bishop: One must do a great deal for the devil in order to do a little for God.
Convict: (angrily). I don't want any damned religion, I tell you.
Bishop: Won't you lie down now? It is late?
Convict: (grumbling). Well, alright, but I won't be preached at, I-I-(on couch). You're sure no one will come?
Bishop: I don't think they will; but if they do-you yourself have locked the door.
Convict: Humph! I wonder if it's safe. (He goes to the door and tries it, then turns and sees the Bishop holding the covering, annoyed) Here! you go to bed. I'll cover myself. (The Bishop hesitates.) Go on, I tell you.
Bishop: Good night, my son. [Exit L.]
[Convict waits till he is off, then tries the Bishop's door.]
Convict: No lock, of course. Curse it. (Looks round and sees the candlesticks again.) Humph! I'll have another look at them. (He takes them up and toys with them.) Worth hundreds, I'll warrant. If I had these turned into money, they'd start me fair. Humph! The old boy's fond of them too, said his mother gave him them. His mother, yes. They didn't think of my mother when they sent me to Hell. He was kind to me too-but what's a Bishop for except to be kind to you? Here, cheer up, my hearty, you're getting soft. God! Wouldn't my chain-mates laugh to see 15729 hesitating about collaring the plunder because he felt good. Good ! Ha ha! Oh, my God! Good! Ha! Ha! 15729 getting soft. That's a good one. Ha ! ha! No, I'll take his candlesticks and go. If I stay here he'll preach me in the morning and I'll get soft. Damn him and his preaching too. Here goes!
[He takes the candlesticks, stows them in his coat, and cautiously exits L.C. As he does so the door slams.]
Persome (without): Who's there ? Who's there, I say ? Am I to get no sleep to-night ? Who's there, I say ? (Enter R, Persome) I'm sure I heard the door shut. (Looking round.) No one here ? (Knocks at the Bishop's door L. Sees the candlesticks have gone.) The candlesticks, the candlesticks. They are gone. Brother, brother, come out. Fire, murder, thieves! [Enter Bishop L. ]
Bishop: What is it, dear, what is it ? What is the matter ?
Persome: He has gone. The man with the hungry eyes has gone, and he has taken your
candlesticks.

Bishop: Not my candlesticks, sister, surely not those. (He looks and sighs.) Ah, that is hard, very hard, I………I-He might have left me those. They were all I had (almost breaking down).
Persome: Well, but go and inform the police. He can't have gone far. They will soon catch him, and you'll get the candlesticks back again. You don't deserve them, though, leaving them about with a man like that in the house.
Bishop: You are right, Persome: It was my fault. I led him into temptation.
Persome: Oh, nonsense I led him into temptation indeed. The man is a thief, a common unscrupulous thief. I knew it the moment I saw him. Go and inform the police or I will.
[Going ; but he stops her.]
Bishop: And have him sent back to prison? (very softly) Sent back to Hell. No Persome: It is a just punishment for me; I set too great store by them. It was a sin. My punishment is just; but Oh God! it is hard, It is very hard. [He buries his head in his hands.]
Persome: No, brother, you are wrong. If you won't tell the police, I will. I will not stand by and see you robbed. I know you are my brother and my Bishop, and the best man in all France; but you are a fool, I tell you, a child, and I will not have your goodness abused, I shall go and inform the police (Going).
Bishop: Stop, Persome. The candlesticks were mine. They are his now. It is better so. He has more need of them than me. My mother would have wished it so, had she been here.
Persome: But-[Great knocking without.]
Sergeant (without). Monseigneur, Monseigneur, we have something for you. May we enter ?
Bishop: Enter, my son. [Enter Sergeant and three Gendarmes with Convict bound. The Sergeant
carries the candlesticks.]
Persome: Ah, so they have caught you, villain, have they ?
Sergeant: Yes, madam, we found this scoundrel slinking along the road, and as he wouldn't give any account of himself we arrested him on suspicion. Holy Virgin, isn't he strong and didn't he struggle! While we were securing him these candlesticks fell out of his pockets. (Persome seizes them, goes to table, and brushes them with her apron lovingly.) I remembered the candlesticks of
Monseigneur, the Bishop, so we brought him here that you might identity them, and then we'll lock him up. [The Bishop and the Convict have been looking at each other-the Convict with
dogged defiance.]
Bishop: But - but I don't understand, this gentleman is my very good friend.
Sergeant: Your friend, Monseigneur!! Holy Virgin ! Well!!!
Bishop: Yes, my friend. He did me the honour to sup with me to night, and I-I have given him the candlesticks.
Sergeant: (incredulously) You gave him-him your candlesticks ? Holy Virgin!
Bishop: (severely) Remember, my son, that she is holy.
Sergeant: (saluting) Pardon Monseigneur.
Bishop: And now I think you may let your prisoner go.
Sergeant: But he won't show me his papers. He won't tell me who he is.
Bishop: I have told you he is my friend.
Sergeant: Yes, that's all very well, but....
Bishop: He is your Bishop's friend, surely, that is enough!
Sergeant: Well, but....
Bishop: Surely?
[A pause. The Sergeant and the Bishop look at each other,]
Sergeant: I-I-Humph! (To his men) Loose the prisoner. (They do so). Right about turn, quick march!
[Exit Sergeant and Gendarmes. A long pause.]
Convict: (Very slowly, as if in a dream). You told them you had given me the candlesticks - given me... them. By God!
Persome: (Shaking her fist at him and hugging the candlesticks to her breast). Oh, you scoundrel, you pitiful scoundrel. You come here, and are fed and warmed, andand you thief.... you steal.... from your benefactor. Oh, you blackguard!
Bishop: Persome, you are overwrought. Go to your room.
Persome: What, and leave you with him to be cheated again, perhaps murdered ? No, I will not.
Bishop: (With slight severity). Persome, leave us. I wish it. [She looks hard at him, then
turns towards her door.]

Persome: Well, if I must go, at least I'll take the candlesticks with me.
Bishop: (More severely) Persome, place the candlesticks on that table and leave us.
Persome: (Defiantly). I will not!
Bishop: (Loudly and with great severity). I, your Bishop, commands it.
[Persome does so with great reluctance and exits R.]
Convict: (Shamefacedly) Monseigneur, I'm glad I didn't get away with them; curse me, I am, I'm glad.
Bishop: Now won't you sleep here ? See, your bed is ready.
Convict: No! (Looking at the candlesticks) No ! no! I daren't, I daren't. Besides, I must go on, I must get to Paris; it is big, and I-I can be lost there. They won't find me there. And I must travel at night. Do you understand ?
Bishop: I see-you must travel by night.
Convict: I-I-didn't believe there was any good in the world; one doesn't when one has been in Hell; but somehow I-I-know you're good, and-and it's a queer thing to ask, but-could you... would you.... bless me before I go ? I-I think it would help me. I.... [Hangs his head very shamefacedly.]
[Bishop makes the sign of the Cross and murmurs a blessing.]
Convict: (Tries to speak, but a sob almost chokes him). Good night. [He hurries towards the door.]
Bishop: Stay, my son, you have forgotten your property (giving him the candlesticks).
Convict: You mean me-you want me to take them ?
Bishop: Please.... they may help you. (The Convict takes the candlesticks in absolute amazement.) And, my son, there is a path through the woods at the back of this cottage which leads to Paris; it is a very lonely path and I have noticed that my good friends the gendarmes do not like lonely paths at night. It is curious.
Convict: Ah, thanks, thanks, Monseigneur. I-I-(He sobs.) Ah, I'm a fool, a child to cry, but somehow you have made me feel that.... that it is just as if something had come into me as if I were a man again and not a wild beast. [The door at back is open, and the Convict is standing in it.]
Bishop: (Putting his hand on his shoulder). Always remember, my son, that this poor body is the Temple of the Living God.
Convict: (With great awe). The Temple of the Living God. I'll remember.

About the Writer
Norman Mckinnel (1870-1932) was an actor and a dramatist, As a playwright he is
known for the play, 'The Bishop's Candlesticks' which is an adaptation of a section of
Victor Hugo's "Les Miserables". The play, which is very popular, is based on the
theme that love and kindness can change a man rather than violence. The play is
about a convict who breaks into the Bishop's house and is clothed and warmed. The
benevolence of the Bishop somewhat softens the convict, but, when he sees the
silver candlesticks, he steals them. He is captured and brought back. He expects to
go back to jail, but the Bishop informs the police they are a gift. The act of the Bishop
reforms the convict to a belief in the spirit of God that dwells in the heart of every
human being.


Punctuate the Following: 
the indian rhinoceros was the first rhinoceros known to europeans rhinoceros comes from the greek rhino meaning nose and ceros meaning horn the indian rhinoceros is monotypic there are no distinct subspecies rhinoceros unicornis was the type species for the rhinoceros family first classified by carolus linnaeus in 1758 the indian rhinoceros was the first rhino widely known outside its range the first rhino to reach europe in modern times arrived in lisbon in may 20, 1515 king manuel I of portugal planned to send the rhinoceros to pope leo x but the rhino perished in a shipwreck.


In groups of six, work on one of the mysteries given below by surfing the net and through other sources. Make a power point presentation. 

  • Yeti , the abominable snowman
  • Loch Ness Monster
  • UFOs ((Unidentified Flying Objects)
  • Lost city of Atlantis 
  • Crop circles 
  • Nazcalines 

What does he plant who plants a tree? a
He plants a friend of sun and sky;b
He plants the flag of breezes free;
The shaft of beauty, towering high;
He plants a home to heaven anigh;
For song and mother-croon of bird
In hushed and happy twilight heard____
The treble of heaven's harmony_____
These things he plants who plants a tree.

Read the lines given above and answer the question that follow:

Pick out some figures of speech.

What does he plant who plants a tree? a
He plants a friend of sun and sky;b
He plants the flag of breezes free;
The shaft of beauty, towering high;
He plants a home to heaven anigh;
For song and mother-croon of bird
In hushed and happy twilight heard____
The treble of heaven's harmony_____
These things he plants who plants a tree.

Read the lines given above and answer the question that follow:

Which literary device has been used in the line: ‘In hushed and happy twilight heard’ ?

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:

Who is being referred to as the unborn eyes?


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:

How is the man holding the blessing on his neighborhood in his hand?


Some are Purple and gold flecked grey
For she who has journeyed through life midway,
Whose hands have cherished , whose love has blest,
And cradled fair sons on her faithful breast,
And serves her household in fruitful pride,
And worship the gods at her husband's side.

Read the lines given above and answer the question that follow:

Explain with reference to context.


"Now tell us what 'twas all about,"
Young Peterkin, he cries;
And little wilhelmine looks up
with wonder-waiting eyes;
"Now tell us all about the war,
And what they fought each other for."
"It was the English," Kaspar cried,
"Who put the French to rout;
But what they fought each other for,
I could not well make out;
But everybody said,"quoth he,
"That 'twas a famous victory.

Read the lines given above and answer the question that follow.

Why does Kasper repeat the line ‘twas a great victory?


The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set-----
Or better still, just don't install
The Idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we've been,
we've watched them gaping at the screen
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.
(Last week in someone's place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.
They sit and stare and stare and sit
Until they're hypnotised by it,
Until they're absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.

Read the lines given above and answer the question given below. 

Name some of the things that the poet has seen in house which have televisions.


It was my business to cross the bridge, explore the bridge head 3 beyond and find out to what point the enemy had advanced. I did this and returned over the bridge. There were not so many carts now and very few people on foot, but the old man was still there.’’Where do you come from?” I asked him.
“From San Carlos,” he said, and smiled.
That was his native town and so it gave him pleasure to mention it and he smiled.
“I was taking care of animals,” he explained.
“Oh,” I said, not quite understanding.
“Yes,” he said, “I stayed, you see, taking care of animals. I was the last one to leave the town of San Carlos.”
He did not look like a shepherd nor a herdsman and I looked at his black dusty clothes and his gray dusty face and his steel rimmed spectacles and said, “What animals were they?”
“Various animals,” he said, and shook his head. “I had to leave them.”

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

What did the narrator see on the bridge when he returned?


 

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?


Mr. Oliver, an Anglo-Indian teacher, was returning to his school late one night on the outskirts of the hill station of Shimla. The school was conducted on English public school lines and the boys – most of them from well-to-do Indian families – wore blazers, caps and ties. “Life” magazine, in a feature on India, had once called this school the Eton of the East.

Mr. Oliver had been teaching in this school for several years. He’s no longer there. The Shimla Bazaar, with its cinemas and restaurants, was about two miles from the school; and Mr. Oliver, a bachelor, usually strolled into the town in the evening returning after dark, when he would take short cut through a pine forest.

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

Why was the school where Mr Oliver worked called the Eton of the East?


Mr. Oliver, an Anglo-Indian teacher, was returning to his school late one night on the outskirts of the hill station of Shimla. The school was conducted on English public school lines and the boys – most of them from well-to-do Indian families – wore blazers, caps and ties. “Life” magazine, in a feature on India, had once called this school the Eton of the East.

Mr. Oliver had been teaching in this school for several years. He’s no longer there. The Shimla Bazaar, with its cinemas and restaurants, was about two miles from the school; and Mr. Oliver, a bachelor, usually strolled into the town in the evening returning after dark, when he would take short cut through a pine forest.

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

When did Mr Oliver return from the town?


This woman had been despised, scoffed at, and angrily denounced by nearly every man, woman, and child in the village; but now, as the fact of, her death was passed from lip to lip, in subdued tones, pity took the place of anger, and sorrow of denunciation.

Neighbours went hastily to the old tumble-down hut, in which she had secured little more than a place of shelter from summer heats and winter cold: some with grave-clothes for a decent interment of the body; and some with food for the half-starving children, three in number. Of these, John, the oldest, a boy of twelve, was a stout lad, able to earn his living with any farmer. Kate, between ten and eleven, was bright, active girl, out of whom something clever might be made, if in good hands; but poor little Maggie, the youngest, was hopelessly diseased. Two years before a fall from a window had injured her spine, and she had not been able to leave her bed since, except when lifted in the arms of her mother.

“What is to be done with the children?” That was the chief question now. The dead mother would go underground, and be forever beyond all care or concern of the villagers. But the children must not be left to starve.

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

What was a matter of concern now that the woman was dead?


She lighted another match, and then she found herself sitting under a beautiful Christmas-tree. It was larger and more beautifully decorated than the one which she had seen through the glass door at the rich merchant’s. Thousands of tapers were burning upon the green branches, and colored pictures, like those she had seen in the show- windows, looked down upon it all. The little one stretched out her hand towards them, and the match went out.

The Christmas lights rose higher and higher, till they looked to her like the stars in the sky. Then she saw a star fall, leaving behind it a bright streak of fire. “Someone is dying,” thought the little girl, for her old grandmother, the only one who had ever loved her, and who was now dead, had told her that when a star falls, a soul was going up to God.

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

Describe the Christmas tree.


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 feel overjoyed?


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.

Why did Jesse Owens foul the first two jumps in the trial?


Describe the professional rivalry and professional friendship of Owens and Long.


Margot stood apart from these children who could never remember a time when there wasn’t rain and rain and rain. They were all nine years old, and if there had been a day, seven years ago, when the sun came out for an hour and showed its face to the stunned world, they could not recall. Sometimes, at night, she heard them stir, in remembrance, and she knew they were dreaming and remembering an old or a yellow crayon or a coin large enough to buy the world with. She knew they thought they remembered a warmness, like a blushing in the face, in the body, in the arms and legs and trembling hands. But then they always awoke to the tatting drum, the endless shaking down of clear bead necklaces upon the roof, the walk, the gardens, the forests, and their dreams were gone. All day yesterday they had read in class about the sun. About how like a lemon it was, and how hot. And they had written small stories or essays or poems about it:

I think the snn is a flower,
That blooms for just one hour.

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

What did the children read in class all day long?


Given below are four words and phrases. Find the words which have a similar meaning in the passage:
(1) Coming near 
( 2 ) Disappeared suddenly
(3) Awakening from sleep
(4) Moved slowly and gradually


I could hear the squeaking that heralded the evening arrival of the bats. I listened to the noises of the approaching night. Every day my hearing grew sharper. I was learning to filter out whatever I did not need to listen to, and giving no sign that I could hear everything that went on in the house.

I could not sleep. The air was heavy and still, the moon hidden behind thick banks of cloud. Lord Otori was sound asleep. I did not want to leave the house I'd come to love so much, but I seemed to be bringing nothing but trouble to it. Perhaps it would be better for everyone if I just vanished in the night.    [5]

 
Now I heard the hiss of hot water as the bath was prepared, the clatter of dishes from the kitchen, the sliding sigh of the cook's knife, a dog barking two streets away, and the sounds of feet on the wooden bridges on the canals. I knew the sounds of the house, day and night, in the sunshine and under the rain. This evening I realized I was always listening for something more. I was waiting too. For what?        [10]


I began to wonder if I could get out of the house without setting the dogs barking and arousing the guards. I started consciously listening to the dogs. Usually, I heard them bark on and off throughout the night, but I'd learned to distinguish their barks and to ignore them. I set my ears for them but heard nothing. Then I started listening for the guards: the sound of a foot on stone or a whispered conversation. Nothing. Sounds that should have been there been missing from the night's familiar web.        [20]


Now I was wide-awake, straining my ears to hear. There came the slightest of sounds, hardly more than a tremor, between the window and the ground.    


For a moment I thought it was the earth-shaking, as it so often did. Another tiny tremble followed, then another. Someone was climbing up the side of the house        [25]


My first instinct was to yell out, but cunning took over. I rose from the mattress and crept silently to Lord Otori's side. I knelt beside him and whispered in his ear, "Lord Otori, someone is, outside."      [30]


He woke instantly and then reached for the sword and knife that lay beside him. I gestured to the window. The faint tremor came again.


Lord Otori passed the knife to me and stepped to the wall. I moved to the other side of the window. We waited for the assassin to climb in.


Step by step he came up the wall, stealthy and unhurried as if he had all the time in the world. We waited for him with the same patience.    [35]

He paused on the sill to take out the knife he planned to use on us and then stepped inside. Lord Otori took him in a stranglehold. The intruder wriggled backwards. I leaped at him, and the three of us fell into the garden like a flurry of fighting cats.  [40]


The man fell first, across the stream, striking his head on a boulder. Lord Otori landed on his feet. My fall was broken by one of the shrubs. The intruder groaned, tried to rise, but slipped back into the water.


"Get a light," Lord Otori said.


I ran to the house, took a light that still burned in one of the candle stands and carried it back to the garden.    [45]


The assassin had died without regaining consciousness. It turned out he had a poison pellet in his mouth and had crushed it as he tell. He was dressed in black, with no marking on his clothes. I held the light over him. There was nothing to tell us who he was.    [50]

 

(i) Given below are four words and phrases. Find the words which have a similar meaning in the passage:
(1) Coming near 
( 2 ) Disappeared suddenly
(3) Awakening from sleep
(4) Moved slowly and gradually 

(ii) For each of the words given below, write a sentence of at least ten words using the same word unchanged in form, but with a different  meaning from that which it carries in the passage:
(1) Bats ( line 1 )
( 2 ) Sign ( line 4 )
( 3 ) Banks (  line 6 )
( 4 )  Back ( line 43 )


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


What do you call, O ye pedlars?
Chessmen and ivory dice.
What do you make, O ye goldsmiths?
Wristlet and anklet and ring, ….
                     (In the Bazaars of Hyderabad: Sarojini Naidu)

(i) What all were being sold by the merchants? 

(ii) What is being ground by the maidens? Which items are the vendors weighing? 

(iii) Describe the bells that the goldsmiths are crafting for blue pigeons? What do the goldsmiths make for the dancers and the king? 

(iv) Which instruments are the musicians playing? What are the magicians doing? 

(v) Mention the happy as well the sad occasions for which the flower girls are weaving flowers. Write one reason why the poem has appealed to you.


 What does Canynge do soon after and what does he find? What was his reaction? What does the discovery; prove?


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

De Levis:  Confront me with Dancy and give me fair play.

Winsor:  [Aside to Canynge] Is it fair to Dancy not to let him know?

Canynge:  Our duty is to the Club now, Winsor. We must have tills cleared up. [Colford comes in, followed by Barring and Dancy].

St. Erth:  Captain Dancy, a serious accusation has been made against you by this gentleman in the presence of several members of the Club.

Dancy: What is it?

St. Erth: That you robbed him of that money at Winsor's.

Danny: [Hard and tense] Indeed! On what grounds is he good enough to say that? 

(i) How does De Levis respond to Dancy's last question in the extract? 

(ii) How did Dancy wish to settle the matter? What was St. Erth's suggestion? 

(iii) Why did Dancy's friends wish him to take legal action against De Levis? What reasons did Dancy give for not wanting to do so? 

(iv) When Mabel Dancy later requests De Levis to withdraw the charge, how does he respond? What declaration does Dancy wish De Levis to sign? 

(v) What information does Gilman give to Twisden? Why did Twisden decide to withdraw from the case? 


Answer the following question.

Finding good twigs for Kari took a long time. Why?


How the discovery of fire has helped the mankind?


How old were Kari (the elephant) and the narrator?


What is an oasis? How is it useful for desert plants?


Give a character sketch of the shepherd. What qualities pleased the king?


How did Ray communicate with him?


When did “the unfriendly face” of the visitor turn truly friendly?


How did Ray tackle the evil-minded shoppers?


Sketch the character of Ray in about 80 words. What qualities of Ray do you admire most?


What did the other courtiers feel about Tansen?


Discuss these questions in small groups before you answer them.

When are you likely to be told this?
Say thank you.


Why does the poet say, “I hope it doesn’t matter”?


Which is the word in the extract that means ‘a liquid sweet juice?


Is it good to play with snakes which are not very dangerous?


Answer the following question. (Refer to that part of the text whose number is given against the question. This applies to the comprehension questions throughout the book.)

What was Patrick’s wish? (3)


Word in the box given below indicates a large number of… For example, ‘a herd of cows’ refers to many cows. Complete the following phrase with a suitable word from the box.
a _________________ of flowers


Multiple Choice Question:
Who is the poet of this poem?


Put these sentences from the story in the right order and write them out in a paragraph. Don’t

refer to the text.

  • I shall be so glad when today is over.

  • Having a leg tied up and hopping about on a crutch is almost fun, I guess.

  • I don’t think I’ll mind being deaf for a day — at least not much.

  • But being blind is so frightening.

  • Only you must tell me about things.

  • Let’s go for a little walk.

  • The other bad days can’t be half as bad as this.


Write a paragraph about yourself so that people who read it will get to know you better. You could write about yourself from any point of view, or choose one of the following topics.

  • What I enjoy doing most
  • What makes me angry
  • What I hate to do
  • What I want to become

(Remember to give reason or details of what you write about so that anyone reading it will understand you better.) After you have finished your paragraph affix your photo on the sheet and display it on the wall. Read each other’s paragraphs. Did you understand someone else better after you had read what he/she wrote?


Replace the italicised portion of the sentence below with a suitable phrase from the box. Make necessary changes, wherever required.
I will examine the matter carefully before commenting on it.


How did Algu and Jumman treat each other?


Why did Jumman Shaikh and Algu Chowdhry, the two good friends, become sworn enemies?


What activities are dear to little children? Who does the child envy and why in the poem Vocation?


What feeling of the poet is exhibited in his peeping through the window?


In each of the following words ‘ch’ represents the same consonant sound as in ‘chair’. The words on the left have this sound initially. Those on the right have it finally. Speak each word clearly.

choose bench
child march
cheese peach
chair wretch
charming research

Underline the letters representing this sound in each of the following words.

  1. feature
  2. reaching
  3. riches
  4. archery
  5. nature
  6. batch
  7. picture
  8. matches
  9. church

Read the lines given below and answer the following question:

Iris: Of her society
Be not afraid. I met her deity
Cutting the clouds towards Paphos, and her son
Dove-drawn with her.

Why was the person addressed afraid of “her”?


Read the lines given below and answer the following question:

Iris: Of her society
Be not afraid. I met her deity
Cutting the clouds towards Paphos, and her son
Dove-drawn with her.

What is meant by “dove drawn”?


Read the lines given below and answer the following question:

“But my darling, if you love me,” thought Miss Meadows, “I don’t
Mind how much it is. Love me as little as you like.”

What had the “darling” informed Miss Meadows?


Read the lines given below and answer the following question:

“But my darling, if you love me,” thought Miss Meadows, “I don’t
Mind how much it is. Love me as little as you like.”

Where was Miss Meadows as she thought these thoughts?


Read the lines given below and answer the following question:

“But my darling, if you love me,” thought Miss Meadows, “I don’t
Mind how much it is. Love me as little as you like.”

What was the effect of Basil’s letter on Miss Meadows?


Read the lines given below and answer the following question:

Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the Agean…

Who is Sophocles?


Answer the following question.

Who advised Golu to go to the Limpopo River?


Read the passage given below and answer the questions (i), (ii) and (iii) that follow:

(1)

Something happens to cats after we have enjoyed a delicious meal. Call it a feline sugar hit or a rush of good feelings. Abandoning our usually sedentary nature, we transform into crazy beasts who thunder down corridors, spring from one piece of furniture to another, or pounce from behind half-closed doors to attack the shoelaces of unsuspecting passersby. It is as though we are temporarily possessed.

 

 

5

(2)

That, at least, is my excuse, dear reader - and the only explanation I can offer for my entirely unplanned global TV debut.

 

(3)

To be fair, I had no way of knowing that my master was receiving visitors that particular afternoon. Nor that he was being interviewed live, let alone by one of America’s most famous journalists.

10

(4)

All I knew was that, a few minutes after gorging myself on a favourite treat of creamy pudding, I felt that sudden, primal explosion of energy. I made my way back to the suite of rooms that I shared with my master and felt an overpowering compulsion to do something completely mad. I wanted to run like a furious jungle cat, at that particular moment.

 

 

 

15

(5)

Bursting through the door of the room in which my master received visitors, I tore up the carpet as I raced towards the sofa opposite where he was sitting. I ripped its fabric as I scrambled up its side like a savage creature clawing its way up a perilous cliff. Then with a final, frenzied burst, I launched myself off one arm of the sofa, leaping towards the other.

 

 

20

(6)

It was only at this point that I realised the sofa was occupied by the journalist. She was halfway through a sentence, and my abrupt appearance caught my master's guest completely by surprise.

 

(7)

You know, when something truly unexpected happens, time can seem to slow down. Well, that’s how it was. As I flew past the woman's face, her expression turned from one of calm engagement to that of total surprise.

25

(8)

I As she pushed back in her seat to avoid me, the shock on her face could not have been more evident.

 

(9)

But, dear reader, she was not more shaken than me. I had not been expecting anyone on the sofa, let alone a TV celebrity, nor one who was mid-interview. As I headed towards the opposite end of the sofa, for the first time I observed the lighting, the cameras and the crew watching the action from the shadows. By the time I landed on the other arm of the sofa, all the energy that had propelled me was gone.

30

 

 

35

(10)

I was, no longer, a furious jungle cat.

 

(11)

The journalist looked at me. I looked at her. Both of us were taking in what had just happened. I was also conscious of the cameras still rolling as well as many pairs of eyes watching me at that moment. My moment of global glory.

 

 

Adapted from: The Dalai Lama's Cat Omnibus
By David Michie

 

(i)

  1. Given below are three words and phrases. Find the words which have a similar meaning in the passage: [3]
    1. inactive
    2. eating in a greedy manner
    3. dangerous
  2. For each of the words given below, write a sentence of at least ten words using the same word unchanged in form, but with a different meaning from that which it carries in the passage: [3]
    1. thunder (line 3)
    2. spring (line 3)
    3. past (line 26)

(ii) Answer the following questions in your own words as briefly as possible:

  1. What is the usual nature of the narrator's kind? How is it differently presented in the passage? [2]
  2. What did the 'favourite treat of creamy pudding' do to the narrator? [2]
  3. Describe the actions of the narrator after bursting into the visitors' room. [2]
  4. How did the journalist react when the narrator 'flew past' her face? [2]

(iii) Summarise how the narrator became a global celebrity (paragraphs 4 to 11). You are required to write the summary in the form of a connected passage in about 100 words. Failure to keep within the word limit will be penalised. [6]


In the Masque in Act IV of the play The Tempest, how does Ceres know that Juno is coming?


In Act V, Scene I of the play The Tempest, Alonso says, "Irreparable is the loss." What is the irreparable loss being referred to here?


What does Prospero intend to do with his book before his interaction with Alonso in Act V of the play, The Tempest?


Where did B. Wordsworth live in the short story, B. Wordsworth?


In the short story, The Story of an Hour, what according to the doctor did Mrs. Mallard die of?


In the poem, Dover Beach, where is the "eternal note of sadness" heard? 


Complete the following sentence by providing a reason:

In Act III, Scene II of the play The Tempest, Stephano and Trinculo are angry with Caliban as they struggle out of the filthy pool because ______.


Complete the following sentence by providing a reason:

In Act V of the play The Tempest, Prospero greets Gonzalo first because ______.


Complete the following sentence by providing a reason:

At the end of Act III, Scene III of the play The Tempest, Gonzalo urges the other Lords to follow the "three men of sin" because ______.


Complete the following sentence by providing a reason:

In Act III, Scene II of the play, The Tempest, Stephano threatens to tie Trinculo to the next tree because ______.


Complete the following sentence by providing a reason:

In the short story, The Sound Machine, Dr. Scott thought Klausner was ill when Klausner rang up the doctor because ______.


Complete the following sentence by providing a reason:
In the short story, To Build a Fire, the fire built by the man under the tree was extinguished because ______.


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