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Question
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.
Why do the dead of the Tribals never forget them or this beautiful world?
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Solution
The dead of the Tribals never forget this beautiful world that gave them being. They still love its verdant valleys, its murmuring rivers, its magnificent mountains, sequestered vales and verdant lined lakes and bays, and always yearn in tender fond affection over the lonely hearted living, and often return from the other world to visit, guide, console, and comfort their people.
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Two of us cut the cake into several pieces to be distributed. We were informed by the caretaker that there were diabetic people amongst them and they couldn't have sweets. He said they could have fruit instead the non-diabetics and fruit to those who were diabetic. Many of them missed their grand children. One of them told me that her son was in the U.S. and as he found it difficult to look after her, he had left her at this Home.
While returning home we realized that our grandparents are lonely and insecure. They spend their second childhood in their old age homes. Most of those living in old age homes do not complain. It is left to us to decide how happy their old age can be. We do not need any special day to make them feel their worth. If you have never told them how much you love them, say it before it's too late.
(b) List any three feelings of the old people in this story.
- _____________________________
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The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed-and gazed-but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
Read the lines given above and answer the question that follow.
Which wealth is referred to by the poet?
Mrs. Thompson did not reply, but presently turned towards the little chamber where her husband had deposited Maggie; and, pushing open the door, went quietly in. Joe did not follow; he saw that, her state had changed, and felt that it would be best to leave her alone with the child. So he went to his shop, which stood near the house, and worked until dusky evening released him from labor. A light shining through the little chamber windows was the first object that attracted Joe’s attention on turning towards the house: it was a good omen. The path led him by this windows and, when opposite, he could not help pausing to look in. It was now dark enough outside to screen him from observation. Maggie lay, a little raised on the pillow with the lamp shining full upon her face. Mrs. Thompson was sitting by the bed, talking to the child; but her back was towards the window, so that her countenance was not seen. From Maggie’s face, therefore, Joe must read the character of their intercourse. He saw that her eyes were intently fixed upon his wife; that now and then a few words came, as if in answers from her lips; that her expression was sad and tender; but he saw nothing of bitterness or pain. A deep-drawn breath was followed by one of relief, as a weight lifted itself from his heart.
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