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| Perhaps there were also people, exotic, interesting people of whom he never spoke — it was possible, though he was quiet and didn't make new friends easily. She longed to know them. She wished she could be admitted more deeply into her brother's affections and that someday he might take her with him. Though her father forbade it and Geoff had never expressed an opinion, she knew he thought her too young. And she was impatient. She was conscious of a vast world out there waiting for her and she knew instinctively that she would feel as at home there as in the city which had always been her home. It expectantly awaited her arrival. She saw herself riding there behind Geoff. He wore new, shining black leathers and she a yellow dress with a kind of cape that flew out behind. There was the sound of applause as the world rose to greet them. |
In the sentence: "She longed to know them.' - What is the meaning of the word 'longed'?
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Sherlock Holmes took his bottle from the corner of the mantelpiece and his hypodermic syringe from its neat morocco case. With his long, white, nervous fingers he adjusted the delicate needle and rolled back his left shirt-cuff. For some little time his eyes rested thoughtfully upon the sinewy forearm and wrist all dotted and scarred with innumerable puncture marks. Finally, he thrust the sharp point home, pressed down the tiny piston, and sank back into the velvet-lined armchair with a long sigh of satisfaction. Three times a day for many months I had witnessed this performance, but custom had not reconciled my mind to it. On the contrary, from day to day I had become more irritable at the sight, and my conscience swelled nightly within me at the thought that I had lacked the courage to protest. Again and again, I had registered a vow that I should deliver my soul upon the subject, but there was that in the cool, nonchalant air of my companion which made him the last man with whom one would care to take anything approaching liberty. His great powers, his masterly manner, and the experience which I had of his many extraordinary qualities, all made me diffident and backward in crossing him. Yet upon that afternoon, whether it was the Beaune which I had taken with my lunch, or the additional exasperation produced by the extreme deliberation of his manner, I suddenly felt that I could hold out no longer. "Which is it today?" I asked,-"morphine or cocaine?" He raised his eyes languidly from the old black letter volume which he had opened. "It is cocaine," he said,-" a seven-per-cent solution. Would you dare to try it?" "But consider!" I said, earnestly. "Count the cost! Your brain may, as you say, be roused and excited, but it is a pathological and morbid process, which involves increased tissue change and may at last leave a permanent weakness. Surely the game is hardly worth the candle. Why should you, for mere passing pleasure, risk the loss of those great powers with which you have been endowed? Remember that I speak not only as one comrade to another but as a medical man to one for whose Constitution he is to some extent answerable." He did not seem offended. "My mind," he said, "rebels at stagnation. Give me problems, give me work, give me the most abstruse cryptogram or the most intricate analysis, and I am in my own proper atmosphere. I can dispense then with artificial stimulants." |
What can we understand about the personality of the narrator's companion?
Concept: undefined >> undefined
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| There once lived a rich businessman who had a lazy and fun-loving son. The businessman wanted his son to be hard-working and responsible. He wanted him to realise the value of labour. One day he summoned his son and said: “Today, I want you to go out and earn something, failing which you won't have your meal tonight.” The boy was casual and not used to any kind of work. This demand by his father scared him and he went crying straight to his mother. Her heart melted at the sight of tears in her son's eyes. She grew restless. In a bid to help him she gave him a gold coin. In the evening when the father asked his son what he had earned, the son promptly presented him the gold coin. The father then asked him to throw it into the well. The son did as he was told. The father was a man of wisdom and experience and guessed that the source of the gold coin was the boy's mother. The next day. he sent his wife to her parent's town and asked his son to go and earn something with the threat of being denied the night's meal if he failed. This time he went crying to his sister who sympathized With him and gave him a rupee coin out of her own savings. When his father asked him what he had earned the boy tossed the rupee coin at him. The father again asked him to throw it into the well. The son did it quite readily. Again the father's Wisdom told him that the rupee coin was not earned by his son. He then sent his daughter to her in-Laws' house. He again asked his son to go out and earn with the threat that he shall not have anything for dinner that night. This time since there was no one to help him out; the son was forced to go to the market in search of work. One of the shopkeepers there told him that he would pay him two rupees if he carried his trunk to his house. The rich man's son could not refuse and was drenched in sweat by the time he finished the job. His feet were trembling and his neck and back were aching. There were rashes on his back. When he returned home, he produced the two rupee note before his father. As usual, the father asked him to throw it into the well. The horrified son almost cried out. He could not imagine throwing his hard-earned money away. He said amid sobbing: “Father! My entire body is aching. My back has rashes and you are asking me to throw the money into the well.” At this, the businessman smiled. He told him that one feels pain only when the fruits of hard labour are wasted. On the earlier occasions, he was helped by his mother and sister and therefore felt no pain in throwing the coins into the well. The son had now realised the value of hard work. He vowed never to be lazy and safe keep the father's wealth. The father handed over the keys of his shop to the son and promised to guide him through the rest of his life. |
The boy felt no pain in throwing the coins into the well the first two times because ______.
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Sherlock Holmes took his bottle from the corner of the mantelpiece and his hypodermic syringe from its neat morocco case. With his long, white, nervous fingers he adjusted the delicate needle and rolled back his left shirt-cuff. For some little time his eyes rested thoughtfully upon the sinewy forearm and wrist all dotted and scarred with innumerable puncture marks. Finally, he thrust the sharp point home, pressed down the tiny piston, and sank back into the velvet-lined armchair with a long sigh of satisfaction. Three times a day for many months I had witnessed this performance, but custom had not reconciled my mind to it. On the contrary, from day to day I had become more irritable at the sight, and my conscience swelled nightly within me at the thought that I had lacked the courage to protest. Again and again, I had registered a vow that I should deliver my soul upon the subject, but there was that in the cool, nonchalant air of my companion which made him the last man with whom one would care to take anything approaching liberty. His great powers, his masterly manner, and the experience which I had of his many extraordinary qualities, all made me diffident and backward in crossing him. Yet upon that afternoon, whether it was the Beaune which I had taken with my lunch, or the additional exasperation produced by the extreme deliberation of his manner, I suddenly felt that I could hold out no longer. "Which is it today?" I asked,-"morphine or cocaine?" He raised his eyes languidly from the old black letter volume which he had opened. "It is cocaine," he said,-" a seven-per-cent solution. Would you dare to try it?" "But consider!" I said, earnestly. "Count the cost! Your brain may, as you say, be roused and excited, but it is a pathological and morbid process, which involves increased tissue change and may at last leave a permanent weakness. Surely the game is hardly worth the candle. Why should you, for mere passing pleasure, risk the loss of those great powers with which you have been endowed? Remember that I speak not only as one comrade to another but as a medical man to one for whose Constitution he is to some extent answerable." He did not seem offended. "My mind," he said, "rebels at stagnation. Give me problems, give me work, give me the most abstruse cryptogram or the most intricate analysis, and I am in my own proper atmosphere. I can dispense then with artificial stimulants." |
When Watson refused to take cocaine, Sherlock Holmes _______.
Concept: undefined >> undefined
| Perhaps there were also people, exotic, interesting people of whom he never spoke — it was possible, though he was quiet and didn't make new friends easily. She longed to know them. She wished she could be admitted more deeply into her brother's affections and that someday he might take her with him. Though her father forbade it and Geoff had never expressed an opinion, she knew he thought her too young. And she was impatient. She was conscious of a vast world out there waiting for her and she knew instinctively that she would feel as at home there as in the city which had always been her home. It expectantly awaited her arrival. She saw herself riding there behind Geoff. He wore new, shining black leathers and she a yellow dress with a kind of cape that flew out behind. There was the sound of applause as the world rose to greet them. |
Read the line: 'She was conscious of a vast world out there waiting for her and she knew instinctively that she would feel as at home there as in the city which had always been her home.' - What should be the synonym of 'instinctively'?
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| There once lived a rich businessman who had a lazy and fun-loving son. The businessman wanted his son to be hard-working and responsible. He wanted him to realise the value of labour. One day he summoned his son and said: “Today, I want you to go out and earn something, failing which you won't have your meal tonight.” The boy was casual and not used to any kind of work. This demand by his father scared him and he went crying straight to his mother. Her heart melted at the sight of tears in her son's eyes. She grew restless. In a bid to help him she gave him a gold coin. In the evening when the father asked his son what he had earned, the son promptly presented him the gold coin. The father then asked him to throw it into the well. The son did as he was told. The father was a man of wisdom and experience and guessed that the source of the gold coin was the boy's mother. The next day. he sent his wife to her parent's town and asked his son to go and earn something with the threat of being denied the night's meal if he failed. This time he went crying to his sister who sympathized With him and gave him a rupee coin out of her own savings. When his father asked him what he had earned the boy tossed the rupee coin at him. The father again asked him to throw it into the well. The son did it quite readily. Again the father's Wisdom told him that the rupee coin was not earned by his son. He then sent his daughter to her in-Laws' house. He again asked his son to go out and earn with the threat that he shall not have anything for dinner that night. This time since there was no one to help him out; the son was forced to go to the market in search of work. One of the shopkeepers there told him that he would pay him two rupees if he carried his trunk to his house. The rich man's son could not refuse and was drenched in sweat by the time he finished the job. His feet were trembling and his neck and back were aching. There were rashes on his back. When he returned home, he produced the two rupee note before his father. As usual, the father asked him to throw it into the well. The horrified son almost cried out. He could not imagine throwing his hard-earned money away. He said amid sobbing: “Father! My entire body is aching. My back has rashes and you are asking me to throw the money into the well.” At this, the businessman smiled. He told him that one feels pain only when the fruits of hard labour are wasted. On the earlier occasions, he was helped by his mother and sister and therefore felt no pain in throwing the coins into the well. The son had now realised the value of hard work. He vowed never to be lazy and safe keep the father's wealth. The father handed over the keys of his shop to the son and promised to guide him through the rest of his life. |
Why did the father want his son to earn something?
Concept: undefined >> undefined
| Perhaps there were also people, exotic, interesting people of whom he never spoke — it was possible, though he was quiet and didn't make new friends easily. She longed to know them. She wished she could be admitted more deeply into her brother's affections and that someday he might take her with him. Though her father forbade it and Geoff had never expressed an opinion, she knew he thought her too young. And she was impatient. She was conscious of a vast world out there waiting for her and she knew instinctively that she would feel as at home there as in the city which had always been her home. It expectantly awaited her arrival. She saw herself riding there behind Geoff. He wore new, shining black leathers and she a yellow dress with a kind of cape that flew out behind. There was the sound of applause as the world rose to greet them. |
When she saw herself riding there behind Geoff, what was she wearing?
Concept: undefined >> undefined
| There once lived a rich businessman who had a lazy and fun-loving son. The businessman wanted his son to be hard-working and responsible. He wanted him to realise the value of labour. One day he summoned his son and said: “Today, I want you to go out and earn something, failing which you won't have your meal tonight.” The boy was casual and not used to any kind of work. This demand by his father scared him and he went crying straight to his mother. Her heart melted at the sight of tears in her son's eyes. She grew restless. In a bid to help him she gave him a gold coin. In the evening when the father asked his son what he had earned, the son promptly presented him the gold coin. The father then asked him to throw it into the well. The son did as he was told. The father was a man of wisdom and experience and guessed that the source of the gold coin was the boy's mother. The next day. he sent his wife to her parent's town and asked his son to go and earn something with the threat of being denied the night's meal if he failed. This time he went crying to his sister who sympathized With him and gave him a rupee coin out of her own savings. When his father asked him what he had earned the boy tossed the rupee coin at him. The father again asked him to throw it into the well. The son did it quite readily. Again the father's Wisdom told him that the rupee coin was not earned by his son. He then sent his daughter to her in-Laws' house. He again asked his son to go out and earn with the threat that he shall not have anything for dinner that night. This time since there was no one to help him out; the son was forced to go to the market in search of work. One of the shopkeepers there told him that he would pay him two rupees if he carried his trunk to his house. The rich man's son could not refuse and was drenched in sweat by the time he finished the job. His feet were trembling and his neck and back were aching. There were rashes on his back. When he returned home, he produced the two rupee note before his father. As usual, the father asked him to throw it into the well. The horrified son almost cried out. He could not imagine throwing his hard-earned money away. He said amid sobbing: “Father! My entire body is aching. My back has rashes and you are asking me to throw the money into the well.” At this, the businessman smiled. He told him that one feels pain only when the fruits of hard labour are wasted. On the earlier occasions, he was helped by his mother and sister and therefore felt no pain in throwing the coins into the well. The son had now realised the value of hard work. He vowed never to be lazy and safe keep the father's wealth. The father handed over the keys of his shop to the son and promised to guide him through the rest of his life. |
Why did the boy retaliate the third time when his father asked him to throw the money into the well?
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Sherlock Holmes took his bottle from the corner of the mantelpiece and his hypodermic syringe from its neat morocco case. With his long, white, nervous fingers he adjusted the delicate needle and rolled back his left shirt-cuff. For some little time his eyes rested thoughtfully upon the sinewy forearm and wrist all dotted and scarred with innumerable puncture marks. Finally, he thrust the sharp point home, pressed down the tiny piston, and sank back into the velvet-lined armchair with a long sigh of satisfaction. Three times a day for many months I had witnessed this performance, but custom had not reconciled my mind to it. On the contrary, from day to day I had become more irritable at the sight, and my conscience swelled nightly within me at the thought that I had lacked the courage to protest. Again and again, I had registered a vow that I should deliver my soul upon the subject, but there was that in the cool, nonchalant air of my companion which made him the last man with whom one would care to take anything approaching liberty. His great powers, his masterly manner, and the experience which I had of his many extraordinary qualities, all made me diffident and backward in crossing him. Yet upon that afternoon, whether it was the Beaune which I had taken with my lunch, or the additional exasperation produced by the extreme deliberation of his manner, I suddenly felt that I could hold out no longer. "Which is it today?" I asked,-"morphine or cocaine?" He raised his eyes languidly from the old black letter volume which he had opened. "It is cocaine," he said,-" a seven-per-cent solution. Would you dare to try it?" "But consider!" I said, earnestly. "Count the cost! Your brain may, as you say, be roused and excited, but it is a pathological and morbid process, which involves increased tissue change and may at last leave a permanent weakness. Surely the game is hardly worth the candle. Why should you, for mere passing pleasure, risk the loss of those great powers with which you have been endowed? Remember that I speak not only as one comrade to another but as a medical man to one for whose Constitution he is to some extent answerable." He did not seem offended. "My mind," he said, "rebels at stagnation. Give me problems, give me work, give me the most abstruse cryptogram or the most intricate analysis, and I am in my own proper atmosphere. I can dispense then with artificial stimulants." |
'The game is hardly worth the candle' means __________.
Concept: undefined >> undefined
| There once lived a rich businessman who had a lazy and fun-loving son. The businessman wanted his son to be hard-working and responsible. He wanted him to realise the value of labour. One day he summoned his son and said: “Today, I want you to go out and earn something, failing which you won't have your meal tonight.” The boy was casual and not used to any kind of work. This demand by his father scared him and he went crying straight to his mother. Her heart melted at the sight of tears in her son's eyes. She grew restless. In a bid to help him she gave him a gold coin. In the evening when the father asked his son what he had earned, the son promptly presented him the gold coin. The father then asked him to throw it into the well. The son did as he was told. The father was a man of wisdom and experience and guessed that the source of the gold coin was the boy's mother. The next day. he sent his wife to her parent's town and asked his son to go and earn something with the threat of being denied the night's meal if he failed. This time he went crying to his sister who sympathized With him and gave him a rupee coin out of her own savings. When his father asked him what he had earned the boy tossed the rupee coin at him. The father again asked him to throw it into the well. The son did it quite readily. Again the father's Wisdom told him that the rupee coin was not earned by his son. He then sent his daughter to her in-Laws' house. He again asked his son to go out and earn with the threat that he shall not have anything for dinner that night. This time since there was no one to help him out; the son was forced to go to the market in search of work. One of the shopkeepers there told him that he would pay him two rupees if he carried his trunk to his house. The rich man's son could not refuse and was drenched in sweat by the time he finished the job. His feet were trembling and his neck and back were aching. There were rashes on his back. When he returned home, he produced the two rupee note before his father. As usual, the father asked him to throw it into the well. The horrified son almost cried out. He could not imagine throwing his hard-earned money away. He said amid sobbing: “Father! My entire body is aching. My back has rashes and you are asking me to throw the money into the well.” At this, the businessman smiled. He told him that one feels pain only when the fruits of hard labour are wasted. On the earlier occasions, he was helped by his mother and sister and therefore felt no pain in throwing the coins into the well. The son had now realised the value of hard work. He vowed never to be lazy and safe keep the father's wealth. The father handed over the keys of his shop to the son and promised to guide him through the rest of his life. |
What could be an APPROPRIATE MORAL for the story?
Concept: undefined >> undefined
| There once lived a rich businessman who had a lazy and fun-loving son. The businessman wanted his son to be hard-working and responsible. He wanted him to realise the value of labour. One day he summoned his son and said: “Today, I want you to go out and earn something, failing which you won't have your meal tonight.” The boy was casual and not used to any kind of work. This demand by his father scared him and he went crying straight to his mother. Her heart melted at the sight of tears in her son's eyes. She grew restless. In a bid to help him she gave him a gold coin. In the evening when the father asked his son what he had earned, the son promptly presented him the gold coin. The father then asked him to throw it into the well. The son did as he was told. The father was a man of wisdom and experience and guessed that the source of the gold coin was the boy's mother. The next day. he sent his wife to her parent's town and asked his son to go and earn something with the threat of being denied the night's meal if he failed. This time he went crying to his sister who sympathized With him and gave him a rupee coin out of her own savings. When his father asked him what he had earned the boy tossed the rupee coin at him. The father again asked him to throw it into the well. The son did it quite readily. Again the father's Wisdom told him that the rupee coin was not earned by his son. He then sent his daughter to her in-Laws' house. He again asked his son to go out and earn with the threat that he shall not have anything for dinner that night. This time since there was no one to help him out; the son was forced to go to the market in search of work. One of the shopkeepers there told him that he would pay him two rupees if he carried his trunk to his house. The rich man's son could not refuse and was drenched in sweat by the time he finished the job. His feet were trembling and his neck and back were aching. There were rashes on his back. When he returned home, he produced the two rupee note before his father. As usual, the father asked him to throw it into the well. The horrified son almost cried out. He could not imagine throwing his hard-earned money away. He said amid sobbing: “Father! My entire body is aching. My back has rashes and you are asking me to throw the money into the well.” At this, the businessman smiled. He told him that one feels pain only when the fruits of hard labour are wasted. On the earlier occasions, he was helped by his mother and sister and therefore felt no pain in throwing the coins into the well. The son had now realised the value of hard work. He vowed never to be lazy and safe keep the father's wealth. The father handed over the keys of his shop to the son and promised to guide him through the rest of his life. |
What job did the boy have to do in the market?
Concept: undefined >> undefined
|
Sherlock Holmes took his bottle from the corner of the mantelpiece and his hypodermic syringe from its neat morocco case. With his long, white, nervous fingers he adjusted the delicate needle and rolled back his left shirt-cuff. For some little time his eyes rested thoughtfully upon the sinewy forearm and wrist all dotted and scarred with innumerable puncture marks. Finally, he thrust the sharp point home, pressed down the tiny piston, and sank back into the velvet-lined armchair with a long sigh of satisfaction. Three times a day for many months I had witnessed this performance, but custom had not reconciled my mind to it. On the contrary, from day to day I had become more irritable at the sight, and my conscience swelled nightly within me at the thought that I had lacked the courage to protest. Again and again, I had registered a vow that I should deliver my soul upon the subject, but there was that in the cool, nonchalant air of my companion which made him the last man with whom one would care to take anything approaching liberty. His great powers, his masterly manner, and the experience which I had of his many extraordinary qualities, all made me diffident and backward in crossing him. Yet upon that afternoon, whether it was the Beaune which I had taken with my lunch, or the additional exasperation produced by the extreme deliberation of his manner, I suddenly felt that I could hold out no longer. "Which is it today?" I asked,-"morphine or cocaine?" He raised his eyes languidly from the old black letter volume which he had opened. "It is cocaine," he said,-" a seven-per-cent solution. Would you dare to try it?" "But consider!" I said, earnestly. "Count the cost! Your brain may, as you say, be roused and excited, but it is a pathological and morbid process, which involves increased tissue change and may at last leave a permanent weakness. Surely the game is hardly worth the candle. Why should you, for mere passing pleasure, risk the loss of those great powers with which you have been endowed? Remember that I speak not only as one comrade to another but as a medical man to one for whose Constitution he is to some extent answerable." He did not seem offended. "My mind," he said, "rebels at stagnation. Give me problems, give me work, give me the most abstruse cryptogram or the most intricate analysis, and I am in my own proper atmosphere. I can dispense then with artificial stimulants." |
What is the profession of Watson?
Concept: undefined >> undefined
| The elder went straight up to the landlord, bowed low and extended the packet towards him, cupping the hand that held the string with his other hand. The landlord opened the parcel and began to eat the vadais. After I had watched all this, at last, I went home. My elder brother was there. I told him the story in all its comic detail. I fell about with laughter at the memory of a big man, and an elder at that, making such a game out of carrying the parcel. But Annan was not amused. Annan told me the man wasn't being funny when he carried the package like that. He said everybody believed that they were upper caste and therefore must not touch us. If they did, they would be polluted. That's why he had to carry the package by its string. |
Read the line: 'The elder went straight up to the landlord, bowed low and extended the packet towards him ....' What does the phrase 'extended the packet' mean?
Concept: undefined >> undefined
| The elder went straight up to the landlord, bowed low and extended the packet towards him, cupping the hand that held the string with his other hand. The landlord opened the parcel and began to eat the vadais. After I had watched all this, at last, I went home. My elder brother was there. I told him the story in all its comic detail. I fell about with laughter at the memory of a big man, and an elder at that, making such a game out of carrying the parcel. But Annan was not amused. Annan told me the man wasn't being funny when he carried the package like that. He said everybody believed that they were upper caste and therefore must not touch us. If they did, they would be polluted. That's why he had to carry the package by its string. |
Who ate the vadais?
Concept: undefined >> undefined
|
Sherlock Holmes took his bottle from the corner of the mantelpiece and his hypodermic syringe from its neat morocco case. With his long, white, nervous fingers he adjusted the delicate needle and rolled back his left shirt-cuff. For some little time his eyes rested thoughtfully upon the sinewy forearm and wrist all dotted and scarred with innumerable puncture marks. Finally, he thrust the sharp point home, pressed down the tiny piston, and sank back into the velvet-lined armchair with a long sigh of satisfaction. Three times a day for many months I had witnessed this performance, but custom had not reconciled my mind to it. On the contrary, from day to day I had become more irritable at the sight, and my conscience swelled nightly within me at the thought that I had lacked the courage to protest. Again and again, I had registered a vow that I should deliver my soul upon the subject, but there was that in the cool, nonchalant air of my companion which made him the last man with whom one would care to take anything approaching liberty. His great powers, his masterly manner, and the experience which I had of his many extraordinary qualities, all made me diffident and backward in crossing him. Yet upon that afternoon, whether it was the Beaune which I had taken with my lunch, or the additional exasperation produced by the extreme deliberation of his manner, I suddenly felt that I could hold out no longer. "Which is it today?" I asked,-"morphine or cocaine?" He raised his eyes languidly from the old black letter volume which he had opened. "It is cocaine," he said,-" a seven-per-cent solution. Would you dare to try it?" "But consider!" I said, earnestly. "Count the cost! Your brain may, as you say, be roused and excited, but it is a pathological and morbid process, which involves increased tissue change and may at last leave a permanent weakness. Surely the game is hardly worth the candle. Why should you, for mere passing pleasure, risk the loss of those great powers with which you have been endowed? Remember that I speak not only as one comrade to another but as a medical man to one for whose Constitution he is to some extent answerable." He did not seem offended. "My mind," he said, "rebels at stagnation. Give me problems, give me work, give me the most abstruse cryptogram or the most intricate analysis, and I am in my own proper atmosphere. I can dispense then with artificial stimulants." |
This image symbolically represents a/an ______.
Concept: undefined >> undefined
| The elder went straight up to the landlord, bowed low and extended the packet towards him, cupping the hand that held the string with his other hand. The landlord opened the parcel and began to eat the vadais. After I had watched all this, at last, I went home. My elder brother was there. I told him the story in all its comic detail. I fell about with laughter at the memory of a big man, and an elder at that, making such a game out of carrying the parcel. But Annan was not amused. Annan told me the man wasn't being funny when he carried the package like that. He said everybody believed that they were upper caste and therefore must not touch us. If they did, they would be polluted. That's why he had to carry the package by its string. |
When the author went home at last, who was there at home?
Concept: undefined >> undefined
| He was a funny-looking man with a high. bald, dome-shaped head, a face very small in comparison and a long wavy beard. His unusual features were a standing joke among his friends. He was a poor man- an idler. He didn't work at his trade-a stonecutter, more than what was necessary to keep his wife and three boys alive. He preferred to talk but since his wife was an irate complaining woman; he loved to be away from home. The whole city he lived in was seething with argumentation. The city was Athens and the man was Socrates — the Greek philosopher. He had funny ways and notions. And to the astonishment of all, the Oracle at Delphi, the priestess when asked, “Who is the wisest man in Athens?” mentioned Socrates. Socrates was the evangelist of clear thinking: he would present people with questions pretending he didn't know the answers and get them to make astounding admissions. Socrates would go upto a prominent statesman coming to the end of a speech on “courage”, about the glory of dying for one's country and say, “Forgive my intrusion, but just what do you mean by courage?” “Courage is sticking to your post in danger” would be the reply. “But supposing good strategy demands that you retire?”, Socrates would ask. “You wouldn't stay in that case” the man would be forced to admit. Socrates would persist, “Then is courage sticking to your post or retiring?”. “, I’m afraid I don't know.” I don't either”. Socrates would say “but perhaps it is not different from just doing the reasonable thing regardless of the danger.” |
Socrates by profession was ______.
Concept: undefined >> undefined
| He was a funny-looking man with a high. bald, dome-shaped head, a face very small in comparison and a long wavy beard. His unusual features were a standing joke among his friends. He was a poor man- an idler. He didn't work at his trade-a stonecutter, more than what was necessary to keep his wife and three boys alive. He preferred to talk but since his wife was an irate complaining woman; he loved to be away from home. The whole city he lived in was seething with argumentation. The city was Athens and the man was Socrates — the Greek philosopher. He had funny ways and notions. And to the astonishment of all, the Oracle at Delphi, the priestess when asked, “Who is the wisest man in Athens?” mentioned Socrates. Socrates was the evangelist of clear thinking: he would present people with questions pretending he didn't know the answers and get them to make astounding admissions. Socrates would go upto a prominent statesman coming to the end of a speech on “courage”, about the glory of dying for one's country and say, “Forgive my intrusion, but just what do you mean by courage?” “Courage is sticking to your post in danger” would be the reply. “But supposing good strategy demands that you retire?”, Socrates would ask. “You wouldn't stay in that case” the man would be forced to admit. Socrates would persist, “Then is courage sticking to your post or retiring?”. “, I’m afraid I don't know.” I don't either”. Socrates would say “but perhaps it is not different from just doing the reasonable thing regardless of the danger.” |
How did Socrates perceive courage?
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| He was a funny-looking man with a high. bald, dome-shaped head, a face very small in comparison and a long wavy beard. His unusual features were a standing joke among his friends. He was a poor man- an idler. He didn't work at his trade-a stonecutter, more than what was necessary to keep his wife and three boys alive. He preferred to talk but since his wife was an irate complaining woman; he loved to be away from home. The whole city he lived in was seething with argumentation. The city was Athens and the man was Socrates — the Greek philosopher. He had funny ways and notions. And to the astonishment of all, the Oracle at Delphi, the priestess when asked, “Who is the wisest man in Athens?” mentioned Socrates. Socrates was the evangelist of clear thinking: he would present people with questions pretending he didn't know the answers and get them to make astounding admissions. Socrates would go upto a prominent statesman coming to the end of a speech on “courage”, about the glory of dying for one's country and say, “Forgive my intrusion, but just what do you mean by courage?” “Courage is sticking to your post in danger” would be the reply. “But supposing good strategy demands that you retire?”, Socrates would ask. “You wouldn't stay in that case” the man would be forced to admit. Socrates would persist, “Then is courage sticking to your post or retiring?”. “, I’m afraid I don't know.” I don't either”. Socrates would say “but perhaps it is not different from just doing the reasonable thing regardless of the danger.” |
Which of the following BEST DESCRIBES Socrates?
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| The elder went straight up to the landlord, bowed low and extended the packet towards him, cupping the hand that held the string with his other hand. The landlord opened the parcel and began to eat the vadais. After I had watched all this, at last, I went home. My elder brother was there. I told him the story in all its comic detail. I fell about with laughter at the memory of a big man, and an elder at that, making such a game out of carrying the parcel. But Annan was not amused. Annan told me the man wasn't being funny when he carried the package like that. He said everybody believed that they were upper caste and therefore must not touch us. If they did, they would be polluted. That's why he had to carry the package by its string. |
Why did the story of the game of carrying the parcel did not amuse Annan?
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