Why Did Einstein Write a Letter to Franklin Roosevelt? - English (Moments)

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Why did Einstein write a letter to Franklin Roosevelt?

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Solution

Einstein wrote a letter to Franklin Roosevelt to warn about bomb effect and also wanted to encourage them to make a bomb to utilize its destruction potential.

Concept: Reading
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Chapter 4.1: A Truly Beautiful Mind - Thinking about the Text [Page 51]

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NCERT Class 9 English Beehive
Chapter 4.1 A Truly Beautiful Mind
Thinking about the Text | Q 5 | Page 51

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Points of

Comparison/Contrast

Santosh Yadav Maria Sharapova

1. Their humble beginning

 

 

2 . Their parents’ approach

 

 

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4. Evidence of their mental toughness

 

 

5. Their patriotism

 

 

We notice lots of details about people and their appearance, but in order to
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Working in pairs, look carefully at the people around you and complete the
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angular close-cropped well-tailored well-tailored casual stocky
elegant unshaven ill-fitting formal lanky
bearded sloppy medium petite hefty
balding slim plaited thick round
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  A B C D
Face        
Hair        
Dress        
Build        

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.


Read the following statement and imagine you are Jack.
"I can't afford to, after what Jack's done to his teeth."
What is it, you think, you can not afford to do and why? Write a diary entry of not
less than 125 words.
(In-class activity; not to be set up as homework).


Based on your reading of the passage, complete the statements using given connectors.

(a) The mother, father ______ thought ______ (and)
(b) They planned to walk to the woods ______ (which)
(c) They reached the place ______ in eighteen months (which)
(d) They eagerly unpacked their picnic basket ______ (but)
(e) It was ______, when the three tortoises arrived at the picnic place, (after)
(f) The mother tortoise ordered the baby to go home for the opener, saying ______ (that).
(g) ______ (but) was not willing at first.
(h) The mother and father promised to wait ______ (until)
(i) ______ they began to get very hungry, (after)


Understanding the Connectors.

                        Connectors are joining words. They join any of the following:

1. One word with another tired but happy.
2. One phrase with the other ready to go and eager to start.
3. One clause with another I went home because I had finished my
work.
4. One sentence with another It was raining along heavily. So we took
along an umbrella.

This is a meeting of the school's Parent-Teacher Association. Some student representatives have also been invited to participate to discuss the role that Information Technology I Computers play in the growth and development of children. 


Read and enjoy : 

Hockey

Do you know when hockey was first played? Research in Ethiopia has discovered that it has been around for more than four millenia. A tablet in Greece has images of young people playing field hockey. Even in South America, Ireland, Egypt, Scotland and Rome, there are proofs and records of this game. The game in these countries was no different than the other even though it was known by different names. Hundreds of years ago, this game was known as 'Hockie' in Ireland and it is this name that has stuck with the game ever since. 

While current field hockey appeared in the mid-18th century in England, primarily in schools, it was not until the first half of the 19th century that it became firmly established. Prior to 1980, women were not permitted to take part in this game. The first club was created in 1849 at Blackheath in south-east London. During the 1600s and 1700s, hockey in England was a little dissimilar and it was more disorganised. People from all over the village would take part in the game. It was not unusual for a team to have 60 - 100 players. It was the goal of the team players to get the ball into the common ground of the rival team. This game required quite a few days to finish. Many players suffered injuries. Even though umpires were present, they were not allowed to say anything without the team members' request. 

Ultimaty , good judgment prevailed. Firm regulations were introduced. In England, a headmaster restricted the number of players to thirty for one single team, During the 1860s, England's Eton College laid down some rules for the game. Additional rules were introduced afterthe formation of the Hockey Association in the year 1875. 

Football 

Football refers to a number of similar team sports, all of which involve (to varying degrees) kicking a ball with the foot in an attempt to score a goal. People from around the world have played games which involved kicking and / or canying a ball, since ancient times. However, most of the modern codes of football have their origins in England. 

The most popular of these sports worldwide is association football, more comm.only known as just 'Football' or 'Soccer'. It is widely considered to be the most popular sport in the world


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:

For whom is the home to heaven anigh ?

Bangle sellers are we who bear
Our shining loads to the temple fair...
Who will buy these delicate, bright
Rainbow-tinted circles of light?
Lustrous tokens of radiant lives,
For happy daughters and happy wives.

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

Who is the speaker in the poem?


"They say it was a shocking sight
After the field was won;
For many thousand bodies here
Lay rotting in the sun;
But things like that, you know, must be 
After a famous victory.
"Great praise the Duke of Marlbro'won,
And our good Prince Eugene."
"Why,'twas a very wicked thing!"
Said little Wilhelmine.

"Nay...nay...my little girl,"quoth he,
"It was a famous victory.
"And everybody praised the Duke
Who this great fight did win."
"But what good came of it at last?"
Quoth little Peterkin.
"Why that I cannot tell,"said he,
"But 'twas a famous victory."

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

How do the skulls symbolize the theme in “The Battle of Blenheim”?


Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don't climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink....
But did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?
IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK - HE ONLY SEES!

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

How are televisions helpful to parents?


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.

Your dead cease to love you and the land of their nativity as soon as they pass the portals of the tomb and wander away beyond the stars. They are soon forgotten and never return. Our dead 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 ever yearn in tender fond affection over the lonely hearted living, and often return from the happy hunting ground to visit, guide, console, and comfort them.

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.

What is the religion of the Tribal men? How is it different?


He looked at me very blankly and tiredly, and then said, having to share his worry with someone, “The cat will be all right, I am sure. There is no need to be unquiet about the cat. But the others. Now what do you think about the others?”
“Why they’ll probably come through it all right.”
“You think so?”
“Why not,” I said, watching the far bank where now there were no carts.
“But what will they do under the artillery when I was told to leave because of the artillery?”
“Did you leave the dove cage unlocked?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Then they’ll fly.”
“Yes, certainly they’ll fly. But the others. It’s better not to think about the others,” he said.

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

How does the soldier console the old man? Does it affect the old man in a positive way?


The village consisted of less than thirty houses, only one of them built with brick and cement. Painted a brilliant yellow and blue all over with gorgeous carvings of gods and gargoyles on its balustrade, it was known as the Big House. The other houses, distributed in four streets, were generally of bamboo thatch, straw, mud, and other unspecified material. Muni’s was the last house in the fourth street, beyond which stretched the fields. In his prosperous days Muni had owned a flock of forty sheep and goats and sallied forth every morning driving the flock to the highway a couple of miles away.

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

What did Muni feed his flock with? When did he come back home? What did he carry home?


“I love the West,” said the girl irrelevantly. Her eyes were shining softly. She looked away out the car window. She began to speak truly and simply without the gloss of style and manner: “Mamma and I spent the summer in Deliver. She went home a week ago

because father was slightly ill. I could live and be happy in the West. I think the air here agrees with me. Money isn’t everything. But people always misunderstand things and remain stupid—” “Say, Mr. Marshal,” growled the glum-faced man. “This isn’t quite fair. I’m needing a drink, and haven’t had a smoke all day. Haven’t you talked long enough? Take me in the smoker now, won’t you? I’m half dead for a pipe.”

The bound travellers rose to their feet, Easton with the Same slow smile on his face. “I can’t deny a petition for tobacco,” he said, lightly. “It’s the one friend of the unfortunate. Good-bye, Miss Fairchild. Duty calls, you know.” He held out his hand for a farewell. “It’s too bad you are not going East,” she said, reclothing herself with manner and style. “But you must go on to Leavenworth, I suppose?” “Yes,” said Easton, “I must go on to Leavenworth.”

The two men sidled down the aisle into the smoker. The two passengers in a seat near by had heard most of the conversation. Said one of them: “That marshal’s a good sort of chap. Some of these Western fellows are all right.” “Pretty young to hold an office like that, isn’t he?” asked the other. “Young!” exclaimed the first speaker, “why—Oh! didn’t you catch on? Say—did you ever know an officer to handcuff a prisoner to his right hand?”

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

What does the glum faced man want to do and how does Easton take leave from Miss Fairchild?


“So that is what you are doing out here? A marshal!” “My dear Miss Fairchild,” said ’ Easton, calmly, “I had to do something. Money has & way of taking wings unto itself, and

you know it takes money to keep step with our crowd in Washington. I saw this opening in the West, and—well, a marshalship isn’t quite as high a position as that of ambassador, but—” “The ambassador,” said the girl, warmly, “doesn’t call any more. He needn’t ever have done so. You ought to know that. And so now you are one of these dashing Western heroes, and you ride and shoot and go into all kinds of dangers. That’s different from the Washington life. You have been missed from the old crowd.” The girl’s eyes, fascinated, went back, widening a little, to rest upon the glittering handcuffs. “Don’t you worry about them, miss,” said the other man. “All marshals handcuff themselves to their prisoners to keep them from getting away. Mr. Easton knows his business.” “Will we see you again soon in Washington?” asked the girl. “Not soon, I think,” said Easton. “My butterfly days are over, I fear.”

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

What does Mr Easton mean by the phrase, “My butterfly days are over, I fear.”


 

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 the torch fall from Mr Oliver’s hand? Why was his hand trembling?


When there was a strong wind, the pine trees made sad, eerie sounds that kept most people to the main road. But Mr. Oliver was not a nervous or imaginative man. He carried a torch – and on the night I write of, its pale gleam, the batteries were running down – moved fitfully over the narrow forest path. When its flickering light fell on the figure of a boy, who was sitting alone on a rock, Mr. Oliver stopped.

Boys were not supposed to be out of school after seven P.M. and it was now well past nine. What are you doing out here, boy, asked Mr. Oliver sharply, moving closer so that he could recognize the miscreant.

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

Whom did Mr Oliver meet in the forest?


Its a cruel thing to leave her so.”

“Then take her to the poorhouse: she’ll have to go there,” answered the blacksmith’s wife, springing away, and leaving Joe behind.

For a little while the man stood with a puzzled air; then he turned back, and went into the hovel again. Maggie with painful effort, had raised herself to an upright position and was sitting on the bed, straining her eyes upon the door out of which all had just departed, A vague terror had come into her thin white face.

“O, Mr. Thompson!” she cried out, catching her suspended breath, “don’t leave me here all alone!”           ,

Though rough in exterior, Joe Thompson, the wheelwright, had a heart, and it was very tender in some places. He liked children, and was pleased to have them come to his shop, where sleds and wagons were made or mended for the village lads without a draft on their hoarded sixpences.

“No, dear,” he answered, in a kind voice, going to the bed, and stooping down over the child, “You she’n’t be left here alone.” Then he wrapped her with the gentleness almost of a woman, in the clean bedclothes which some neighbor had brought; and, lifting her in his strong arms, bore her out into the air and across the field that lay between the hovel and his home.

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

What did Maggie say to Mr Thompson? What do her words show?


Sibia sprang.
From boulder to boulder she came leaping like a rock goat. Sometimes it had seemed difficult to cross these stones, especially the big gap in the middle where the river coursed through like a bulge of glass. But now she came on wings, choosing her footing in midair without even thinking about it, and in one moment she was beside the shrieking woman. In the boiling bloody water, the face of the crocodile, fastened round her leg, was tugging to and fro, and smiling. His eyes rolled on to Sibia. One slap of the tail could kill her. He struck. Up shot the water, twenty feet, and fell like a silver chain. Again! The rock jumped under the blow. But in the daily heroism of the jungle, as common as a thorn tree, Sibia did not hesitate. She aimed at the reptile’s eyes. With all the force of her little body, she drove the hayfork at the eyes, and one prong went in—right in— while its pair scratched past on the horny cheek. The crocodile reared up in convulsion, till half his lizard body was out of the river, the tail and nose nearly meeting over his stony back. Then he crashed back, exploding the water, and in an uproar of bloody foam he disappeared. He would die. Not yet, but presently, though his death would not be known for days; not till his stomach, blown with gas, floated him. Then perhaps he would be found upside down among the logs at the timber boom, with pus in his eye. Sibia got arms round the fainting woman, and somehow dragged her from the water.

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

Describe how Sibia flew to save the woman.


Sibia sprang.
From boulder to boulder she came leaping like a rock goat. Sometimes it had seemed difficult to cross these stones, especially the big gap in the middle where the river coursed through like a bulge of glass. But now she came on wings, choosing her footing in midair without even thinking about it, and in one moment she was beside the shrieking woman. In the boiling bloody water, the face of the crocodile, fastened round her leg, was tugging to and fro, and smiling. His eyes rolled on to Sibia. One slap of the tail could kill her. He struck. Up shot the water, twenty feet, and fell like a silver chain. Again! The rock jumped under the blow. But in the daily heroism of the jungle, as common as a thorn tree, Sibia did not hesitate. She aimed at the reptile’s eyes. With all the force of her little body, she drove the hayfork at the eyes, and one prong went in—right in— while its pair scratched past on the horny cheek. The crocodile reared up in convulsion, till half his lizard body was out of the river, the tail and nose nearly meeting over his stony back. Then he crashed back, exploding the water, and in an uproar of bloody foam he disappeared. He would die. Not yet, but presently, though his death would not be known for days; not till his stomach, blown with gas, floated him. Then perhaps he would be found upside down among the logs at the timber boom, with pus in his eye. Sibia got arms round the fainting woman, and somehow dragged her from the water.

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

How does Sibia save the woman?


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.

What all did Sibia not notice as she went home?


As it turned out, Luz broke his own past record. In doing so, he pushed me on to a peak performance. I remember that at the instant I landed from my final jump—the one which set the Olympic record of 26 feet 5-5/16 inches—he was at my side, congratulating me. Despite the fact that Hitler glared at us from the stands not a hundred yards away, Luz shook my hand hard—and it wasn’t a fake “smile with a broken heart” sort of grip, either.

You can melt down all the gold medals and cups I have, and they couldn’t be a plating on the 24-carat friendship I felt for Luz Long at that moment. I realized then, too, that Luz was the epitome of what Pierre de Coubertin, founder of the modern Olympic Games, must have had in mind when he said, “The important thing in the Olympic Games is not winning but taking part. The essential thing in life is not conquering but fighting well.”

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

You can melt down all the gold medals and cups I have, and they wouldn’t be a plating on the 24-carat friendship I felt for Luz Long at that moment.


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 )


 Who enters soon after? What does he say about the young Venetian who has just arrived? What gifts has the Venetian brought with him?


What do we learn from the lives of great men? What is the final message of the poem ? Give one reason why the poem appeals to you. 


Name some other creatures that live in anthills.


“...Mr. Purcell heard it no more than he would have heard the monotonous ticking of a familiar clock.” (Read para beginning with “It was a rough day...”)

(i)What does ‘it’ refer to?

(ii) Why does Mr. Purcell not hear ‘it’ clearly?


Complete the sentence below by appropriately using anyone of the following:

if you want to/if you don’t want to/if you want him to

He’ll post your letter___________________.


Who was Gopal? What was the challenge given to him by the king? How he won it?


We should not give up in any situation. If we try hard we can definitely find a solution. Why do you think so?


Explain with an example how can you put out fire by cutting the supply of oxygen.


The cook loved the bear like her own son. Justify.


Do you think the man would ever come back to pick up the watch?


What was the problem of the two shoppers? What were they going to try?


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?


Why did Tansen agree to sing Raga Deepak?


Why was the crocodile’s wife annoyed with her husband one day?


If you were a baby crocodile, would you tell Makara that he was wrong? What would you say to convince him?


Discuss these questions in small groups before you answer them.

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


Read the newspaper report to find the following facts about Columbia’s ill-fated voyage.

Number of experiments done by scientists: ____________


Complete the following sentence.

In the spring, the banyan tree ________________, and _______________ would come there.


Multiple Choice Question:
How are words related to ideas?


Multiple Choice Question:
What can liberate thoughts from the prison?


Answer the following question.
 “God lives in the heart of the Panch.” the aunt said. What did she mean? 


Find out the different kinds of work done by the people in your neighbourhood. Make different cards for different kinds of work. You can make the card colourful with pictures of the persons doing the work.


What does the word ‘bake’ in the above passage mean?


Fill in the blanks with the words given in the box.

how, what, when, where, which

You should decide soon ______ to start building your house.


Study the following phrases and their meanings. Use them appropriately to complete the sentences that follow.

We have no right to …………. people who do small jobs.


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.”

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?


Read the lines given below and answer the following question:

Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the Agean…

What did he hear on the Agean?


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

GRATIANO: O learned judge! – Mark, Jew: a learned judge!
SHYLOCK: I take this offer, then; pay the bond thrice, And let the Christian go.
  1. Why does Shylock suddenly decide to accept this offer?      [2] 
  2. Who has made this offer? Who stops Shylock from accepting this offer?      [2]
  3. Shylock decides to leave the court without even receiving the principal amount. What other crime is he accused of? What further punishment does he face for this crime?        [3] 
  4. Later in this scene, how does the Duke show that he is merciful? What does Shylock say in response to the Duke’s act of mercy?         [3]

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?


What does Cares say to bless the young couple?


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?


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


In the short story, To Build a Fire, which "wild idea" came into the Man's head when all seemed lost?


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


In the poem, Birches, how are the crystal shells shed?


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:

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:

Towards the end of the story B. Wordsworth, the poet told the boy to never visit him 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 ______.


Read the following extract from Jesse Owens's short story, ‘My Greatest Olympic Prize’ and answer the question that follows:

I wasn't too worried about all this. I'd trained, sweated and disciplined myself for six years with the Games in mind. While I was going over on the boat, all I could think about was taking home one or two of those gold medals. I had my eye, especially on the running broad jump.

What makes Luz Long's behaviour at the ‘Games' truly remarkable in the context of the times?
Identify a theme that is common to the short story 'My Greatest Olympic Prize’ and the poem ‘Nine Gold Medals’. 


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