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प्रश्न
Discuss these question in class with your teacher and then write down your answer
in two or three paragraphs .
How does Kezia begin to see her father as a human being who needs her sympathy?
उत्तर
APPEARS IN
संबंधित प्रश्न
Have you ever had to make a difficult choice (or do you think you will have difficult choices to make)? How will you make the choice (for what reasons)?
As you know, from the previous lesson you have just read, there are people in our country who have traditional knowledge about snakes, who even catch poisonous snakes with practically bare hands. Can you find out something more about them?
The play is based on an incident in novelist Victor Hugo's 'Les Miserables.' You may
want to read the novel to get a better idea of the socio-economic conditions of the times
and how people lived. Another novel that may interest you is 'A Tale of Two Cities' by
Charles Dickens.
Divide yourselves into two groups in the class and read a book each. Later you
can share your views on the book each group had selected. Choose an incident
from the novel to dramatise and present before the class.
Some are like fields of sunlit corn,
Meet for a bride on her bridal morn,
Some, like the flame of her marriage fire,
Or, rich with the hue of her heart's desire,
Tinkling,luminous,tender, and clear,
Like her bridal laughter and bridal tear.
Read the lines given above and answer the question that follow.
Pick a simile from the stanza.
The blocks were all lined up for those who would use them
The hundred-yard dash and the race to be run
These were nine resolved athletes in back of the starting line
Poised for the sound of the gun.
The signal was given, the pistol exploded
And so did the runners all charging ahead
But the smallest among them,he stumbled and staggered
And fell to the asphalt instead.
He gave out a cry in frustration and anguish
His dreams ands his efforts all dashed in the dirt
But as sure I'm standing here telling this story
The same goes for what next occurred.
Read the lines given above and answer the following question:
Did all hope to win? How do you know? Why did the eight runners pull up on their heels?
It matters little where we pass the remnant of our days. They will not be many. The Indian’s night promises to be dark. Not a single star of hope hovers above his horizon. Sad-voiced winds moan in the distance. Grim fate seems to be on the Red Man’s trail, and wherever he will hear the approaching footsteps of his fell destroyer and prepare stolidly to meet his doom, as does the wounded doe that hears the approaching footsteps of the hunter.
A few more moons, a few more winters, and not one of the descendants of the mighty hosts that once moved over this broad land or lived in happy homes, protected by the Great Spirit, will remain to mourn over the graves of a people once more powerful and hopeful than yours. But why should I mourn at the untimely fate of my people? Tribe follows tribe, and nation follows nation, like the waves of the sea. It is the order of nature, and regret is useless. Your time of decay may be distant, but it will surely come, for even the White Man whose God walked and talked with him as friend to friend, cannot be exempt from the common destiny. We may be brothers after all. We will see.
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
How does Seattle predict the future of his tribe to be?
“There were three animals altogether,” he explained. “There were two goats and a cat and then there were four pairs of pigeons.”
“And you had to leave them?” I asked.
“Yes. Because of the artillery. The captain told me to go because of the artillery.” “And you have no family?” I asked, watching the far end of the bridge where a few last carts were hurrying down the slope of the bank.
“No,” he said, “only the animals I stated. The cat, of course, will be all right. A cat can look out for itself, but I cannot think what will become of the others.”
“What politics have you?” I asked.
“I am without politics,” he said. “I am seventy-six years old. I have come twelve kilometers now and I think now I can go no further.”
“This is not a good place to stop,” I said. “If you can make it, there are trucks up the road where it forks for Tortosa.”
“I will wait a while,” he said, “ and then I will go. Where do the trucks go?” “Towards Barcelona,” I told him.
“I know no one in that direction,” he said, “but thank you very much.
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
Why did the soldier tell the old man that it was not a good place to stop?
“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.
Give three similarities between Mr Easton and a butterfly.
After considering the matter, and talking it over with his wife, farmer Jones said that he would take John, and do well by him, now that his mother was out of the way; and Mrs. Ellis, who had been looking out for a bound girl, concluded that it would be charitable in her to make choice of Katy, even though she was too young to be of much use for several years.
“I could do much better, I know,” said Mrs. Ellis; “but as no one seems inclined to take her, I must act from a sense of duty expect to have trouble with the child; for she’s an undisciplined thing—used to having her own way.”
But no one said “I’ll take Maggie.” Pitying glances were cast on her wan and wasted form and thoughts were troubled on her account. Mothers brought cast-off garments and, removing her soiled and ragged clothes, dressed her in clean attire. The sad eyes and patient face of the little one touched many hearts, and even knocked at them for entrance. But none opened to take her in. Who wanted a bed-ridden child?
“Take her to the poorhouse,” said a rough man, of whom the question “What’s to be done with Maggie?” was asked. “Nobody’s going to be bothered with her.”
“The poorhouse is a sad place for a sick and helpless child,” answered one.
“For your child or mine,” said the other, lightly speaking; “but for tis brat it will prove a blessed change, she will be kept clean, have healthy food, and be doctored, which is more than can be said of her past condition.”
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
What solution did the rough man suggest for Maggie? Why would the poorhouse be a good place for Maggie?
Lights were shining from every window, and there was a savoury smell of roast goose, for it was New-year’s eve—yes, she remembered that. In a corner, between two houses, one of which projected beyond the other, she sank down and huddled herself together. She had drawn her little feet under her, but she could not keep off the cold; and
she dared not go home, for she had sold no matches, and could not take home even a penny of money. Her father would certainly beat her; besides, it was almost as cold at home as here, for they had only the roof to cover them, through which the wind howled, although the largest holes had been stopped up with straw and rags. Her little hands were almost frozen with the cold. Ah! perhaps a burning match might be some good, if she could draw it from the bundle and strike it against the wall, just to warm her fingers. She drew one out—“scratch!” how it sputtered as it burnt! It gave a warm, bright light, like a little candle, as she held her hand over it. It was really a wonderful light. It seemed to the little girl that she was sitting by a large iron stove, with polished brass feet and a brass ornament. How the fire burned! and seemed so beautifully warm that the child stretched out her feet as if to warm them, when, lo! the flame of the match went out, the stove vanished, and she had only the remains of the half-burnt match in her hand.
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
What did she imagine when she lighted the first match?
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.
What do you understand of Hitler from Jesse’s account?
Tilloo pressed the red button and “the damage was done”. What was the damage?
Why does the poet say, “I hope it doesn’t matter”?
Make noun from the word given below by adding –ness, ity, ty or y
Bitter ___________.
Look at these sentences.
1. “Too boring,” he said.
2. Cleaned his room, did his chores.
When we speak, we often leave out words that can easily be guessed. We do not do this when we write unless we are trying to write as we speak (as in the story).
So, if we were to write carefully, we would say:
- “Homework is too boring,” he said.
- He cleaned his room and did his chores.
Put these sentences from the story in the right order and write them out in a paragraph. Don’t
refer to the text.
-
I shall be so glad when today is over.
-
Having a leg tied up and hopping about on a crutch is almost fun, I guess.
-
I don’t think I’ll mind being deaf for a day — at least not much.
-
But being blind is so frightening.
-
Only you must tell me about things.
-
Let’s go for a little walk.
-
The other bad days can’t be half as bad as this.
With your partner, complete the following sentence in your own word using the ideas in the poem.
Words are the __________________ of thought.
Look at the following picture. One asks a question, the other answers it. Then the answer is noted in a form as shown below.
| Questions | Yes/No | Additional Response |
|
1. Do you like to meet people? |
Yes I do, but not always | I do have some close friends, though. |
|
2. Do you like the area you live in? |
No, I Don't | But I have no choice |
The words given against the sentences below can be used both as nouns and verbs. Use them appropriately to fill in the blanks.
(i) She has a lovely ____________. (face)
(ii) India ____________ a number of problems these days.
Read the extract given below and answer the questions that follow:
| He gave her a shove. But she did not move, rather she let herself be moved only by him and nothing else. They edged away from her; they would not look at her. She felt them go away. |
- Who is ‘she’? On which planet is this story set? [2]
- Mention any two ways in which life on this planet differs from life on earth. [2]
- Who are ‘they’? Why did ‘they’ not come to her aid when William shoved her? [3]
- What do ‘they’ do to her at the end of the story? Why did they behave in this manner? [3]
