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प्रश्न
Was it really a ghost who Vijay Singh befooled? Who do you think it was?
उत्तर
The ghost’s cave contained the wealth that he had collected by looting and killing the people travelling through the Haunted Desert. So in reality, he could have been a robber who had disguised himself as a ghost for scaring and over powering innocent travellers.
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संबंधित प्रश्न
The passing of time will no longer affect her, says the poet. Which lines of the poem say this?
Why do you think Bill Bryson’s wife says to the children, “Take the lids off the food for Daddy”?
Now, read the play.
List of Characters.
Julliette - The owner of the villa
Maid - Juliette’s maid
Gaston - A shrewd businessman
Jeanne - His young wife
Mrs Al Smith - A rich American lady
Maid: Won't Madame be sorry?
Juliette: Not at all. Mind you, if someone had bought it on the very day I placed it for sale, then I might have felt sorry because I would have wondered if I hadn't been a fool to sell at all. But the sign has been hanging on the gate for over a month now and I am beginning to be afraid that the day I bought it, was when I was the real fool.
Maid: All the same, Madame, when they brought you the 'For Sale' sign, you wouldn't let them put it up. You waited until it was night. Then you went and hung it yourself, Madame.
Juliette: I know! You see, I thought that as they could not read it in the dark, the house would belong to me for one more night. I was so sure that the next day the entire world would be fighting to purchase it. For the first week, I was annoyed every time I passed that 'Villa for Sale' sign. The neighbours seemed to look at me in such a strange kind of way that I began to think the whole thing was going to be much more of a sell than a sale. That was a month ago and now, I have only one thought, that is to get the wretched place off my hands. I would sacrifice it at any price. One hundred thousand francs if necessary and that's only twice what it cost me. I thought, I would get two hundred thousand but I suppose I must cut my loss. Besides, in the past two weeks, four people almost bought it, so I have begun to feel as though it no longer belongs to me. Oh! I'm fed up with the place, because nobody really wants it! What time did those agency people say the lady would call?
Maid: Between four and five, Madame.
Juliette: Then we must wait for her.
Maid: It was a nice little place for you to spend the weekends, Madame.
Juliette: Yes . . . but times are hard and business is as bad as it can be.
Maid: In that case, Madame, is it a good time to sell?
Juliette: No, perhaps not. But still. . . there are moments in life when it's the right time to buy, but it's never the right time to sell. For fifteen years everybody has had money at the same time and nobody wanted to sell. Now nobody has any money and nobody wants to buy. But still. .. even so ... it would be funny if I couldn't manage to sell a place here, a stone's throw from Joinville, the French Hollywood, when all I'm asking is a paltry hundred thousand!
Maid: That reminds me, there is a favour I want to ask you, Madame.
Juliette: Yes, what is it my girl?
Maid: Will you be kind enough to let me off between nine and noon tomorrow morning?
Juliette: From nine till noon?
Maid: They have asked me to play in a film at the Joinville Studio.
Juliette: You are going to act for the cinema?
Maid: Yes, Madame.
Juliette: What kind of part are you going to play?
Maid: A maid, Madame. They prefer the real article. They say maids are born; maids not made maids. They are giving me a hundred francs a morning for doing it.
Juliette: One hundred francs!
Maid: Yes, Madame. And as you only pay me four hundred a month, I can't very well refuse, can I, Madame?
Juliette: A hundred francs! It's unbelievable!
Maid: Will you permit me, Madame, to tell you something I've suddenly thought of?
Juliette: What?
Maid: They want a cook in the film as well. They asked me if I knew of anybody suitable. You said just now, Madame, that times were hard. ... Would you like me to get you the engagement?
Juliette: What?
Maid: Every little helps, Madame. Especially, Madame, as you have such a funny face.
Juliette: Thank you.
Maid (taking no notice). They might take you on for eight days, Madame. That would mean
eight hundred francs. It's really money for nothing. You would only have to peel
potatoes one minute and make an omlette the next, quite easy. I could show you
how to do it, Madame.
Juliette: But how kind of you. ... Thank God I'm not quite so hard up as that yet!
Maid: Oh, Madame, I hope you are not angry with me ?
Juliette: Not in the least.
Maid: You see, Madame, film acting is rather looked up to round here. Everybody wants to do it. Yesterday the butcher didn't open his shop, he was being shot all the morning. Today, nobody could find the four policemen, they were taking part in Monsieur Milton's fight scene in his new film. Nobody thinks about anything else round here now. You see, they pay so well. The manager is offering a thousand francs for a real beggar who has had nothing to eat for two days. Some people have all the luck! Think it over, Madame.
Juliette: Thanks, I will.
Maid: If you would go and see them with your hair slicked back the way you do when you are dressing, Madame, I am sure they would engage you right away. Because really, Madame, you look too comical!
Juliette: Thank you! (The bell rings.) I am going upstairs for a moment. If that is the lady, tell
her I will not be long. It won't do to give her the impression that I am waiting for her.
Maid: Very good, Madame. (Exit JULIETTE, as she runs off to open the front door.) Oh, if I could become a Greta Garbo! Why can't I? Oh! (Voices heard off, a second later, the MAID returns showing in GASTON and JEANNE.)
Maid: If you will be kind enough to sit down, I will tell Madame you are here.
Jeanne: Thank you.
(Exit MAID)
Gaston: And they call that a garden! Why, it's a yard with a patch of grass in the middle!
Jeanne: But the inside of the house seems very nice, Gaston.
Gaston: Twenty-five yards of Cretonne and a dash of paint… you can get that anywhere.
Jeanne: That's not fair. Wait until you've seen the rest of it.
Gaston: Why should I? I don't want to see the kitchen to know that the garden is a myth and that the salon is impossible.
Jeanne: What's the matter with it?
Gaston: Matter? Why, you can't even call it a salon.
Jeanne: Perhaps there is another.
Gaston: Never mind the other. I'm talking about this one.
Jeanne: We could do something very original with it.
Gaston: Yes, make it an annex to the garden.
Jeanne: No, but a kind of study.
Gaston: A study? Good Lord! You're not thinking of going in for studying are you?
Jeanne: Don't be silly! You know perfectly well what a modern study is. Gaston: No, I don't.
Jeanne: Well . .. er.. . it's a place where . .. where one gathers . ..
Gaston: Where one gathers what?
Jeanne: Don't be aggravating, please! If you don't want the house, tell me so at once and we'll say no more about it.
Gaston: I told you before we crossed the road that I didn't want it. As soon as you see a sign 'Villa for Sale', you have to go inside and be shown over it.
Jeanne: But we are buying a villa, aren't we?
Gaston: We are not!
Jeanne: What do you mean, 'We are not'? Then we're not looking for a villa?
Gaston: Certainly not. It's just an idea you've had stuck in your head for the past month.
Jeanne: But we've talked about nothing else....
Gaston: You mean, you've talked about nothing else. I've never talked about it. You see, you've talked about it so much, that you thought that we are talking. . .. You haven't even noticed that I've never joined in the conversation. If you say that you are looking for a villa, then that's different!
Jeanne: Well... at any rate . . . whether I'm looking for it or we're looking for it, the one thingthat matters anyway is that I'm looking for it for us!
Gaston: It's not for us . . . it's for your parents. You are simply trying to make me buy a villa so that you can put your father and your mother in it. You see, I know you. If you got what you want, do you realize what would happen? We would spend the month of August in the villa, but your parents would take possession of it every year from the beginning of April until the end of September. What's more, they would bring the whole tribe of your sister's children with them. No! I am very fond of your family, but not quite so fond as that.
Jeanne: Then why have you been looking over villas for the past week?
Gaston: I have not been looking over them, you have, and it bores me.
Jeanne: Well...
Gaston: Well what?
Jeanne: Then stop being bored and buy one. That will finish it. We won't talk about it any
more.
Gaston: Exactly!
Jeanne: As far as that goes, what of it? Suppose I do want to buy a villa for papa and mamma? What of it?
Gaston: My darling. I quite admit that you want to buy a villa for your father and mother. But
please admit on your side that I don't want to pay for it.
Jeanne: There's my dowry.
Gaston: Your dowry! My poor child, we have spent that long ago.
Jeanne: But since then you have made a fortune.
Gaston: Quite so. I have, but you haven't. Anyway, there's no use discussing it. I will not buy a villa and that ends it.
Jeanne: Then it wasn't worth while coming in.
Gaston: That's exactly what I told you at the door.
Jeanne: In that case, let's go.
Gaston: By all means.
Jeanne: What on earth will the lady think of us.
Gaston: I have never cared much about anybody's opinion. Come along. (He takes his hat and goes towards the door. At this moment JULIETTE enters.)
Juliette: Good afternoon, Madame... Monsieur....
Jeanne: How do you do, Madame?
Gaston: Good day.
Juliette: Won't you sit down? (All three of them sit.) Is your first impression a good one?
Jeanne: Excellent.
Juliette: I am not in the least surprised. It is the most delightful little place. Its appearance is modest, but it has a charm of its own. I can tell by just looking at you that it would suit you admirably, as you suit it, if you will permit me to say so. Coming from me, it may surprise you to hear that you already appear to be at home. The choice of a frame is not so easy when you have such a delightful pastel to place in it. (She naturally indicates JEANNE who is flattered.) The house possesses a great many advantages. Electricity, gas, water, telephone, and drainage. The bathroom is beautifully fitted and the roof was entirely repaired last year.
Jeanne: Oh, that is very important, isn't it, darling?
Gaston: For whom?
Juliette: The garden is not very large . . . it's not long and it's not wide, but…
Gaston: But my word, it is high!
Juliette: That's not exactly what I meant. Your husband is very witty, Madame. As I was saying, the garden is not very large, but you see, it is surrounded by other gardens. . . .
Gaston: On the principle of people who like children and haven't any, can always go and live near a school.
Jeanne: Please don't joke, Gaston. What this lady says is perfectly right. Will you tell me, Madame, what price you are asking for the villa?
Juliette: Well, you see, I must admit, quite frankly, that I don't want to sell it any more.
Gaston : (rising) Then there's nothing further to be said about it.
Juliette: Please, I...
Jeanne: Let Madame finish, my dear.
Juliette: Thank you. I was going to say that for exceptional people like you, I don't mind giving it up. One arranges a house in accordance with one's own tastes - if you understand what I mean - to suit oneself, as it were - so one would not like to think that ordinary people had come to live in it. But to you, I can see with perfect assurance, I agree. Yes, I will sell it to you.
Jeanne: It's extremely kind of you.
Gaston: Extremely. Yes ... but ...er… what's the price, Madame?
Juliette: You will never believe it...
Gaston: I believe in God and so you see ...
Juliette: Entirely furnished with all the fixtures, just as it is, with the exception of that one
little picture signed by Carot. I don't know if you have ever heard of that painter,
have you ?
Gaston: No, never.
Juliette: Neither have I. But I like the colour and I want to keep it, if you don't mind. For the villa itself, just as it stands, two hundred and fifty thousand francs. I repeat, that I would much rather dispose of it at less than its value to people like yourselves, than to give it up, even for more money, to someone whom I didn't like. The price must seem...
Gaston: Decidedly excessive....
Juliette: Oh, no!
Gaston: Oh, yes, Madame.
Juliette: Well, really, I must say I'm.. Quite so, life is full of surprises, isn't it?
Juliette: You think it dear at two hundred and fifty thousand? Very well, I can't be fairer than this, Make me an offer.
Gaston: If I did, it would be much less than that.
Juliette: Make it anyway.
Gaston: It's very awkward ... I... Jeanne. Name some figures, darling .., just to please me.
Gaston: Well I hardly know ... sixty thousand....
Jeanne: Oh!
Juliette: Oh!
Gaston: What do you mean by 'Oh!'? It isn't worth more than that to me.
Juliette: I give you my word of honour, Monsieur, I cannot let it go for less than two hundred thousand.
Gaston: You have perfect right to do as you please, Madame.
Juliette: I tell you what I will do. I will be philanthropic and let you have it for two hundred thousand.
Gaston: And I will be equally good-natured and let you keep it for the same price.
Juliette: In that case, there is nothing more to be said, Monsieur.
Gaston: Good day, Madame.
Jeanne: One minute, darling. Before you definitely decide, I would love you to go over the upper floor with me.
Juliette: I will show it to you with the greatest pleasure. This way, Madame. This way, Monsieur. . .
Gaston: No, thank you . . . really... I have made up my mind and I'm not very fond of
climbing stairs.
Juliette: Just as you wish, Monsieur. (To JEANNE.) Shall I lead the way?
Jeanne: If you please, Madame.
(Exit JULIETTE)
Jeanne (to her husband): You're not over-polite, are you?
Gaston: Oh, my darling! For Heaven's sake, stop worrying me about this shanty. Go and
examine the bathroom and come back quickly.
(Exit JEANNE following JULIETTE)
Gaston (to himself): Two hundred thousand for a few yards of land . . . She must be thinking I'm crazy. . . . (The door bell rings and, a moment later, the MAID re-enters showing in Mrs Al Smith)
Maid: If Madame would be kind enough to come in. Mrs Al Smith: See here, now I tell you I'm in a hurry. How much do they want for this house?
Maid: I don't know anything about it, Madame. Mrs Al Smith: To start off with, why isn't the price marked on the signboard? You French people have a cute way of doing business! You go and tell your boss that if he doesn't come right away, I'm going. I haven't any time to waste. Any hold up makes me sick when I want something. (MAID goes out.) Oh, you're the husband, I suppose. Good afternoon. Do you speak American?
Gaston: Sure . . . You betcha. Mrs Al Smith: That goes by me. How much for this house?
Gaston: How much?... Well... Won't you sit down? Mrs Al Smith: I do things standing up.
Gaston: Oh! Do you? Mrs Al Smith: Yes! Where's your wife?
Gaston: My wife? Oh, she's upstairs. Mrs Al Smith: Well, she can stay there. Unless you have to consult her before you make a sale?
Gaston: Me? Not on your life! Mrs Al Smith: You are an exception. Frenchmen usually have to consult about ten people before they get a move on. Listen! Do you or don't you want to sell
this house?
Gaston: I? ... Oh, I'd love to! Mrs Al Smith: Then what about it? I haven't more than five minutes to spare.
Gaston: Sit down for three of them anyway. To begin with, this villa was built by my
grandfather...
Mrs Al Smith: I don't care a darn about your grandfather!
Gaston: Neither do I. ... But I must tell you that... er...
Mrs Al Smith: Listen, just tell me the price.
Gaston: Let me explain that... Mrs Al Smith: No!
Gaston: We have electricity, gas, telephone...
Mrs Al Smith: I don't care! What's the price?
Gaston: But you must go over the house...
Mrs Al Smith: No!... I want to knock it down and build a bungalow here.
Gaston: Oh, I see!
Mrs Al Smith: Yep! It's the land I want. I have to be near Paramount where I'm going to shoot some films.
Gaston: Oh!
Mrs Al Smith: Yep. You see I'm a big star.
Gaston: Not really?
Mrs Al Smith: (amiably): Yes! How do you do? Well now, how much?
Gaston: Now let's see. ... In that case, entirely furnished, with the exception of that little picture by an unknown artist ... it belonged to my grandfather and I want to keep it. ...
Mrs Al Smith: Say! You do love your grandparents in Europe!
Gaston: We have had them for such a long time!
Mrs Al Smith: You folk are queer. You think about the past all the time. We always think about the future.
Gaston: Everybody thinks about what he's got.
Mrs Al Smith: What a pity you don't try and copy us more.
Gaston: Copies are not always good. We could only imitate you and imitations are no better than parodies. We are so different. Think of it.... Europeans go to America to earn money and Americans come to Europe to spend it.
Mrs Al Smith: Just the same, you ought to learn how to do business
Gaston: We are learning now. We are practising...
Mrs Al Smith: Well then, how much?
Gaston: The house! Let me see. ... I should say three hundred thousand francs. . . . The same for everybody, you know. Even though you are an American, I wouldn't dream of raising the price.
Mrs Al Smith: Treat me the same as anybody. Then you say it is three hundred thousand?
Gaston (to himself): Since you are dear bought - I will love you dear.
Mrs Al Smith: Say you, what do you take me for?
Gaston: Sorry. That's Shakespeare. ... I mean cash. . ,
Mrs Al Smith: Now I get you . . . cash down! Say! You're coming on. (She takes her cheque book from her bag.)
Gaston (fumbling in a drawer): Wait... I never know where they put my pen and ink...
Mrs Al Smith: Let me tell you something, you'd better buy yourself a fountain pen with the money you get for the villa. What date is it today?
Gaston: The twenty- fourth.
Mrs Al Smith: You can fill in your name on the cheque yourself. I live at the Ritz Hotel., Place Vendome. My lawyer is...
Gaston: Who ...?
Mrs Al Smith: Exactly!
Gaston: What?
Mrs Al Smith: My lawyer is Mr. Who, 5, Rue Cambon. He will get in touch
with yours about the rest of the transaction. Good-bye.
Gaston: Good-bye.
Mrs. Al Smith: When are you leaving?
Gaston: Well...er ... I don't quite know . . . whenever you like.
Mrs. Al Smith: Make it tomorrow and my architect can come on Thursday. Good-bye. I'm
delighted.
Gaston: Delighted to hear it, Madame. (She goes and he looks at the cheque.) It's a very good thing in business when everyone is delighted! (At that moment, JEANNE and JULIETTE return)
Gaston: Well?
Jeanne: Well... of course ...it's very charming. ...
Juliette: Of course, as I told you, it's not a large place. I warned you. There are two large bedrooms and one small one.
Gaston: Well now! That's something.
Jeanne : (to her husband). You are quite right, darling. I'm afraid it would not be suitable. Thank you, Madame, we need not keep you any longer.
Juliette: Oh, that's quite alright.
Gaston: Just a moment, just a moment, my dear. You say there are two large bedrooms and a small one....
Juliette: Yes, and two servants' rooms.
Gaston: Oh! There are two servants' rooms in addition, are there?
Juliette: Yes.
Gaston: But that's excellent!
Juliette: Gaston, stop joking!
Gaston: And the bathroom? What's that like?
Juliette: Perfect! There's a bath in it. ...
Gaston: Oh, there's a bath in the bathroom, is there?
Juliette: Of course there is!
Gaston: It's all very important. A bathroom with a bath in it. Bedrooms, two large and one small, two servants' rooms and a garden. It's really possible. While you were upstairs, I have been thinking a lot about your papa and mamma. You see, I am really unselfish, and then the rooms for your sister's children. . . . Also, my dear, I've been thinking . . . and this is serious... about our old age. . . . It's bound to come sooner or later and the natural desire of old age is a quiet country life. . . . (To JULIETTE:) You said two hundred thousand, didn't you?
Jeanne: What on earth are you driving at?
Gaston: Just trying to please you, darling.
Juliette: Yes, two hundred thousand is my lowest. Cash, of course.
Gaston: Well, that's fixed. I won't argue about it. (He takes out his cheque book.)
Juliette: But there are so many things to be discussed before…
Gaston: Not at all. Only one thing. As I am not arguing about the price, as I'm not bargaining with you . . . well, you must be nice to me, you must allow me to keep this little picture which has kept me company while you and my wife went upstairs.
Juliette: It's not a question of value...
Gaston: Certainly not . . . just as a souvenir...
Juliette: Very well, you may keep it.
Gaston: Thank you, Madame. Will you give me a receipt, please? Our lawyers will draw up the details of the sale. Please fill in your name. . . . Let us see, it's the twenty-third, isn't it?
Juliette: No, the twenty-fourth. . . .
Gaston: What does it matter? One day more or less. (She signs the receipt and exchanges it for his cheque.) Splendid!
Juliette: Thank you, Monsieur.
Gaston: Here is my card. Good-bye, Madame. Oh, by the way, you will be kind enough to leave tomorrow morning, won't you.
Juliette: Tomorrow! So soon?
Gaston: Well, say tomorrow evening at the latest.
Juliette: Yes, I can manage that. Good-bye Madame.
Jeanne: Good day, Madame.
Gaston: I'll take my little picture with me, if you don't mind? (He unhooks it.) Just a beautiful souvenir, you know. .
Juliette: Very well. I'll show you the garden, on the way out.
(Exit JULIETTE)
Jeanne: What on earth have you done?
Gaston: I? I made a hundred thousand francs and a Carot!
Jeanne: But how?
Gaston: I'll tell you later.
CURTAIN
About the Author
Sacha Guitry (1885-1957) son of a French actor, was born in St. Petersburg (Later
Leningrad) which accounts for his Russian first name. Given his father's profession,
he became a writer of plays and films. Some of his own experiences with people
engaged in film production may be reflected in Villa for Sale.
Guitry was clever, irrepressible and a constant source of amusement. He claimed that
he staged a 'one-man revolt' against the dismal French theatre of his time. He was
equally successful on screen and stage. Besides being a talented author and actor, he
earned recognition as a highly competent producer and director.
Read the play as a whole class with different children reading different parts.
SCENE : The kitchen of the Bishop's cottage, It is plainly but substantially furnished. Doors
R, and L and L.C. Window R.C. Fireplace with heavy mantelpiece down R. Oak settee with
cushions behind door L.C. Table in window R.C. with writing materials and crucifix (wood).
Eight-day clock R. of window. Kitchen dresser with cupboard to lock, down L. Oak dinner
table R.C. Chairs, books, etc. Winter wood scene without. On the mantel piece are two very
handsome candlesticks which look strangely out of place with their surroundings.
[Marie and Persome discovered. Marie stirring some soup on the fire. Persome laying the
cloth, etc.]
Persome: Marie, isn' t the soup boiling yet ?
Marie: Not yet, madam.
Persome: Well, it ought to be. You haven't tended the fire properly, child.
Marie: But, madam, you yourself made the fire up.
Persome: Don't answer me back like that. It is rude.
Marie: Yes, madam.
Persome: Then don't let me have to rebuke you again.
Marie: No, madam.
Persome: I wonder where my brother can be. (Looking at the clock.) It is after eleven o'clock and no sign of him. Marie !
Marie: Yes, madam.
Persome: Did Monseigneur the Bishop leave any message for me ?
Marie: No, madam.
Persome: Did he tell you where he was going?
Marie: Yes, madam.
Persome (imitating): 'Yes, madam'. Then why haven't you told me, stupid!
Marie: Madam didn't ask me.
Persome: But that is no reason for you not telling me, is it ?
Marie: Madam said only this morning I was not to chatter, so I thought...
Persome: Ah, Mon Dieu! You thought! Ah! It is hopeless.
Marie: Yes, madam.
Persome: Don't keep saying 'Yes, Madam' like a parrot, nincompoop!
Marie: No, madam.
Persome: Well. Where did Monseigneur say he was going?
Marie: To my mother's, madam.
Persome: To your mother's indeed ! And why, pray ?
Marie. Monseigneur asked me how she was, and I told him she was feeling poorly.
Persome : You told him she was feeling poorly did you? And so my brother is to be kept out of his bed, and go without his supper because you told him she was feeling poorly. There's gratitude for you!
Marie: Madam, the soup is boiling!
Persome: Then pour it out, fool, and don't chatter. (Marie about to do so.) No, no, not like that. Here, let me do it, and did you put the salt-cellars on the table-the silver ones?
Marie: The silver ones, madam?
Persome: Yes, the silver ones. Are you deaf as well as stupid?
Marie: They are sold, madam.
Persome: Sold! (with horror) Sold! Are you mad? Who sold them? Why were they sold?
Marie: Monseigneur the Bishop told me this afternoon, while you were out, to take them to Monseigneur Gervais, who has often admired them, and sell them for as much as I could.
Persome: But you had no right to do so without asking me.
Marie (with awe): But, madam, Monseigneur the Bishop told me.
Persome: Monseigneur the Bishop is a-ahem! But-but what can he have wanted with the money!
Marie: Pardon, madam, but I think it was for Mere Gringoire.
Persome: Mere Gringoire indeed! Mere Gringoire! What, the old witch who lives at the top of the hill, and who says she is bedridden because she is too lazy to do any work? And what did Mere Gringoire want with the money, pray ?
Marie: Madam, it was for the rent. The bailiff would not wait any longer, and threatened to turn her out to-day if it were not paid, so she sent little Jean to Monseigneur to
ask for help, and-
Persome: Oh, mon Dieu! It is hopeless, hopeless. We shall have nothing left. His estate is sold, his savings have gone. His furniture, everything. Were it not for my little dot we should starve ! And now my beautiful-beautiful (sobs) salt-cellars. Ah, it is too much, too much. (She breaks down crying.)
Marie: Madam, I am sorry, if I had known-
Persome: Sorry, and why pray? If Monseigneur the Bishop chooses to sell his salt-cellars
he may do so, I suppose. Go and wash your hands, they are disgracefully dirty.
Marie: Yes, madam (going towards R.)
[Enter the Bishop, C.]
Bishop: Ah! How nice and warm it is in here! It is worth going out in the cold for the sake of the comfort of coming in. [Persome has hastened to help him off with his coat etc. Marie has dropped a deep courtesy.]
Bishop: Thank you, dear. (Looking at her.) Why, what is the matter ? You have been crying. Has Marie been troublesome, eh ? (shaking his finger at her) Ah !
Persome: No, it wasn't Marie-but-but-
Bishop: Well, well, you shall tell me presently! Marie, my child, run home now; your mother is better. I have prayed with her, and the doctor has been. Run home! (Marie putting on cloak and going.) And, Marie, let yourself in quietly in case your mother is asleep.
Marie: Oh, thanks, thanks, Monseigneur. [She goes to door C. ; as it opens the snow drives in.]
Bishop: Here, Marie, take my comforter, it will keep you warm. It is very cold to-night.
Marie: Oh, no Monseigneur ! (shamefacedly). What nonsense, brother, she is young, she won't hurt.
Bishop: Ah, Persome, you have not been out, you don't know how cold it has become. Here, Marie, let me put it on for you. (Does so) There! Run along little one.
[Exit Marie, C.]
Persome: Brother, I have no patience with you. There, sit down and take your soup, it has been waiting ever so long. And if it is spoilt, it serves you right.
Bishop: It smells delicious.
Persome: I'm sure Marie's mother is not so ill that you need have stayed out on such a night as this. I believe those people pretend to be ill just to have the Bishop call on them. They have no thought of the Bishop!
Bishop: It is kind of them to want to see me.
Persome: Well, for my part, I believe that charity begins at home.
Bishop: And so you make me this delicious soup. You are very good to me, sister.
Persome: Good to you, yes! I should think so. I should like to know where you would be without me to look after you. The dupe of every idle scamp or lying old woman in the parish!
Bishop: If people lie to me they are poorer, not I.
Persome: But it is ridiculous; you will soon have nothing left. You give away everything, everything!!!
Bishop: My dear, there is so much suffering in the world, and I can do so little (sighs), so very little.
Persome: Suffering, yes; but you never think of the suffering you cause to those who love you best, the suffering you cause to me.
Bishop (rising): You, sister dear ? Have I hurt you ? Ah, I remember you had been crying. Was it my fault ? I didn' t mean to hurt you. I am sorry.
Persome: Sorry. Yes. Sorry won't mend it. Humph ! Oh, do go on eating your soup before it gets cold.
Bishop: Very well, dear. (Sits.) But tell me-
Persome: You are like a child. I can't trust you out of my sight. No sooner is my back turned than you get that little minx Marie to sell the silver salt-cellars.
Bishop: Ah, yes, the salt-cellars. It is a pity. You-you were proud of them ?
Persome: Proud of them. Why, they have been in our family for years.
Bishop: Yes, it is a pity. They were beautiful; but still, dear, one can eat salt out of china just as well.
Persome: Yes, or meat off the floor, I suppose. Oh, it's coming to that. And as for that old wretch, Mere Gringoire, I wonder she had the audacity to send here again. The last time I saw her I gave her such a talking to that it ought to have had some effect.
Bishop: Yes! I offered to take her in here for a day or two, but she seemed to think it might distress you.
Persome: Distress me !!!
Bishop: And the bailiff, who is a very just man, would not wait longer for the rent, so -soyou see I had to pay it.
Persome: You had to pay it. (Gesture of comic despair.)
Bishop: Yes, and you see I had no money so I had to dispose off the salt-cellars. It was fortunate I had them, wasn't it ? (Smiling) But I'm sorry, I have grieved you.
Persome: Oh, go on! Go on! You are incorrigible. You'll sell your candlesticks next.
Bishop (with real concern): No, no, sister, not my candlesticks.
Persome: Oh! Why not ? They would pay somebody's rent, I suppose.
Bishop: Ah, you are good, sister, to think of that; but-but I don't want to sell them. You see, dear, my mother gave them to me on-on her death-bed just after you were born, and-and she asked me to keep them in remembrance of her, so I would like to keep them; but perhaps it is a sin to set such store by them ?
Persome: Brother, brother, you will break my heart (with tears in her voice). There! Don't say anything more. Kiss me and give me your blessing. I'm going to bed. (He blesses her)
[Bishop makes the sign of the Cross and murmurs a blessing. Persome locks up the
cupboard door and goes R.]
Persome: Don't sit up too long and tire your eyes.
Bishop: No, dear! Good night! [Persome exits R.]
Bishop (comes to table and opens a book, then looks up at the candlesticks). They
would pay somebody's rent. It was kind of her to think of that. [He stirs the fire, trims the lamp, arranges some books and papers, sits down, is restless, shivers slightly ; the clock outside strikes twelve and he settles down to read. Music during this. Enter a Convict stealthily ; he has a long knife and seizes the Bishop from behind]
Convict: If you call out you are a dead man !
Bishop: But, my friend, as you see, I am reading. Why should I call out? Can I help you in any way ?
Convict (hoarsely): I want food. I'm starving, I haven't eaten anything for three days. Give me food quickly, quickly, curse you!
Bishop (eagerly): But certainly, my son, you shall have food. I will ask my sister for the keys of the cupboard. [Rising.] Convict: Sit down !!! (The Bishop sits smiling.) None of that, my friend! I'm too old a bird to be caught with chaff. You would ask your sister for the keys, would you ? A likely
story! You would rouse the house too. Eh ? Ha! ha! A good joke truly. Come, where is the food ? I want no keys. I have a wolf inside me tearing at my entrails, tearing me; quick, tell me; where the food is?
Bishop (aside): I wish Persome would not lock the cupboard. (Aloud) Come, my friend, you have nothing to fear. My sister and I are alone here.
Convict: How do I know that ?
Bishop : Why, I have just told you. [Convict looks long at the Bishop.]
Convict: Humph! I'll risk it. (Bishop, going to door R.) But mind! Play me false and as sure as there are devils in hell, I'll drive my knife through your heart. I have nothing to lose.
Bishop: You have your soul to lose, my son; it is of more value than my heart. (At door R.,
calling.) Persome! Persome! [The Convict stands behind him, with his knife ready.]
Persome (within): Yes, brother.
Bishop: Here is a poor traveller who is hungry. If you have not settled as yet, will you
come and open the cupboard and I will give him some supper. Persome (within). What, at this time of night ? A pretty business truly. Are we to have no sleep now, but to be at the beck and call of every ne'er-do-well who happens to pass?
Bishop: But, Persome, the traveller is hungry. Perome. Oh, very well. I am coming. (Persome enters R. She sees the knife in the Convict's hand.) (Frightened) Brother, what is he doing with that knife?
Bishop: The knife-oh, well, you see, dear, perhaps he may have thought that I-I had sold
ours. [Laughs gently.]
Persome: Brother, I am frightened. He glares at us like a wild beast (aside to him).
Convict: Hurry, I tell you. Give me food or I'll stick my knife in you both and help myself.
Bishop: Give me the keys, Persome (she gives the keys to him). And now, dear, you may
go to bed. [Persome going. The Convict springs in front of her. ]
Convict : Stop! Neither of you shall leave this room till I do. [She looks at the Bishop.]
Bishop: Persome, will you favour this gentleman with your company at supper ? He
evidently desires it.
Persome: Very well, brother. [She sits down at the table staring at the two.]
Bishop: Here is some cold pie and a bottle of wine and some bread.
Convict: Put them on the table, and stand behind it so that I can see you. [Bishop does so and opens drawer in table, taking out knife and fork, looking at
the knife in Convict's hand.]
Convict: My knife is sharp. (He runs his finger along the edge and looks at them meaningfully.) And as for forks…. (taking it up) (laughs) Steel! (He throws it away). We don't use forks in prison.
Persome: Prison ?
Convict: (Cutting off an enormous slice from the pie he tears it with his fingers like an animal. Then starts) What was that ? (He looks at the door.) Why the devil do you leave the window unshuttered and the door unbarred so that anyone can come in ? (shutting them.)
Bishop: That is why they are left open.
Convict: Well, they are shut now !
Bishop (sighs): For the first time in thirty years. [Convict eats voraciously and throws a bone on the floor.]
Persome: Oh, my nice clean floor! [Bishop picks up the bone and puts it on plate.]
Convict: You're not afraid of thieves?
Bishop: I am sorry for them.
Convict: Sorry for them. Ha ! Ha ! Ha! (Drinks from bottle,) That's a good one. Sorry for them. Ha! Ha! Ha! (Drinks) (suddenly) Who the devil are you ?
Bishop: I am a Bishop.
Convict: Ha! Ha ! Ha ! A Bishop! Holy Virgin, a Bishop.
Bishop: I hope you may escape that, my son. Persome, you may leave us; this gentleman will excuse you.
Persome: Leave you with-
Bishop: Please! My friend and I can talk more-freely then. [By this time, owing to his starving condition, the wine has affected the Convict:]
Convict: What's that ? Leave us. Yes, yes, leave us. Good night. I want to talk to the Bishop, The Bishop: Ha! Ha! [Laughs as he drinks, and coughs.]
Bishop: Good night, Persome: [He holds the door open and she goes out R., holding in her skirts as she passes the Convict:]
Convict (chuckling to himself): The Bishop: Ha ! Ha ! Well I'm-(Suddenly very loudly) D'you know what I am ?
Bishop: I think one who has suffered much.
Convict: Suffered ? (puzzled) Suffered? My God, yes. (Drinks) But that's a long time ago. Ha! Ha! That was when I was a man. Now I'm not a man; now I'm a number; number 15729, and I've lived in Hell for ten years.
Bishop. Tell me about it-about Hell.
Convict: Why? (Suspiciously) Do you want to tell the police-to set them on my track ?
Bishop: No! I will not tell the police.
Convict: (looks at him earnestly). I believe you (scratching his head), but damn me if I knew why.
Bishop. (laying his hand on the Convict's arm). Tell me about the time, the time before
you went to Hell.
Convict: It's been so long ago.... I forget; but I had a little cottage, there were vines growing on it. (Dreamily) They looked pretty with the evening sun on them, and, and.... there was a woman, she was (thinking hard), she must have been my wife-yes. (Suddenly and very rapidly). Yes, I remember! She was ill, we had no food, I could get no work, it was a bad year, and my wife, my Jeanette, was ill, dying (pause), so I stole to buy food for her. (Long pause. The Bishop gently pats
his hand.) They caught me. I pleaded with them, I told them why I stole, but they laughed at me, and I was sentenced to ten years in the prison hulks (pause), ten years in Hell. The night I was sentenced, the gaoler told me-told me Jeanette was dead. (Sobs with fury) Ah, damn them, damn them. God curse them all. [He sinks on the table, sobbing.]
Bishop: Now tell me about the prison ship, about Hell.
Convict: Tell you about it ? Look here, I was a man once. I'm a beast now, and they made
me what I am. They chained me up like a wild animal, they lashed me like a hound. I fed on filth, I was covered, with vermin, I slept on boards, and when I complained, they lashed me again. For ten years, ten years. Oh God! They took away my name, they took away my soul, and they gave me a devil in its place. But one day they were careless, one day they forgot to chain up their wild beast,
and he escaped. He was free. That was six weeks ago. I was free, free to starve.
Bishop: To starve ?
Convict: Yes, to starve. They feed you in Hell, but when you escape from it you starve. They were hunting me everywhere and I had no passport, no name. So I stole again. I stole these rags. I stole my food daily. I slept in the woods, in barns, any where. I dare not ask for work, I dare not go into a town to beg, so I stole, and they have made me what I am, they have made me a thief. God curse them all. [Empties the bottle and throws it into the fire-place R., smashing it.]
Bishop: My son, you have suffered much, but there is hope for all.
Convict: Hope ! Hope ! Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! [Laughs wildly.]
Bishop: You have walked far; you are tired. Lie down and sleep on the couch there, and I will get you some coverings.
Convict: And if anyone comes ?
Bishop: No one will come; but if they do, are you not my friend ?
Convict: Your friend ? (puzzled)
Bishop: They will not molest the Bishop's friend.
Convict: The Bishop's friend. [Scratching his head, utterly puzzled]
Bishop: I will get the coverings. [Exit L.]
Convict: (looks after him, scratches his head) The Bishop's friend! (He goes to fire to warm himself and notices the candlesticks, He looks round to see if he is alone, and takes them down, weighing them.) Silver, by God, heavy. What a prize! [He hears the Bishop coming, and in his haste drops one candlestick on the table.] [Enter the Bishop]
Bishop: (sees what is going on, but goes to the settee up L. with coverings.) Ah, you are
admiring my candlesticks. I am proud of them. They were a gift from my mother.
A little too handsome for this poor cottage perhaps, but all I have to remind me of
her. Your bed is ready. Will you lie down now ?
Convict: Yes, yes, I'll lie down now. (puzzled) -Look here, why the devil are you kind to
me? (Suspiciously). What do you want? Eh?
Bishop: I want you to have a good sleep, my friend.
Convict: I believe you want to convert me; save my soul, don't you call it? Well, it's no
good-see? I don't want any damned religion, and as for the Church-bah! I hate
the Church.
Bishop: That is a pity, my son, as the Church does not hate you.
Convict: You are going to try to convert me. Oh! Ha! ha! That's a good idea. Ha ! ha ! ha! No, no, Monseigneur the Bishop: I don't want any of your Faith, Hope, and Charity --see? So anything you do for me you're doing to the devil-understand? (defiantly)
Bishop: One must do a great deal for the devil in order to do a little for God.
Convict: (angrily). I don't want any damned religion, I tell you.
Bishop: Won't you lie down now? It is late?
Convict: (grumbling). Well, alright, but I won't be preached at, I-I-(on couch). You're sure no one will come?
Bishop: I don't think they will; but if they do-you yourself have locked the door.
Convict: Humph! I wonder if it's safe. (He goes to the door and tries it, then turns and sees the Bishop holding the covering, annoyed) Here! you go to bed. I'll cover myself. (The Bishop hesitates.) Go on, I tell you.
Bishop: Good night, my son. [Exit L.]
[Convict waits till he is off, then tries the Bishop's door.]
Convict: No lock, of course. Curse it. (Looks round and sees the candlesticks again.) Humph! I'll have another look at them. (He takes them up and toys with them.) Worth hundreds, I'll warrant. If I had these turned into money, they'd start me fair. Humph! The old boy's fond of them too, said his mother gave him them. His mother, yes. They didn't think of my mother when they sent me to Hell. He was kind to me too-but what's a Bishop for except to be kind to you? Here, cheer up, my hearty, you're getting soft. God! Wouldn't my chain-mates laugh to see 15729 hesitating about collaring the plunder because he felt good. Good ! Ha ha! Oh, my God! Good! Ha! Ha! 15729 getting soft. That's a good one. Ha ! ha! No, I'll take his candlesticks and go. If I stay here he'll preach me in the morning and I'll get soft. Damn him and his preaching too. Here goes!
[He takes the candlesticks, stows them in his coat, and cautiously exits L.C. As he does so the door slams.]
Persome (without): Who's there ? Who's there, I say ? Am I to get no sleep to-night ? Who's there, I say ? (Enter R, Persome) I'm sure I heard the door shut. (Looking round.) No one here ? (Knocks at the Bishop's door L. Sees the candlesticks have gone.) The candlesticks, the candlesticks. They are gone. Brother, brother, come out. Fire, murder, thieves! [Enter Bishop L. ]
Bishop: What is it, dear, what is it ? What is the matter ?
Persome: He has gone. The man with the hungry eyes has gone, and he has taken your
candlesticks.
Bishop: Not my candlesticks, sister, surely not those. (He looks and sighs.) Ah, that is hard, very hard, I………I-He might have left me those. They were all I had (almost breaking down).
Persome: Well, but go and inform the police. He can't have gone far. They will soon catch him, and you'll get the candlesticks back again. You don't deserve them, though, leaving them about with a man like that in the house.
Bishop: You are right, Persome: It was my fault. I led him into temptation.
Persome: Oh, nonsense I led him into temptation indeed. The man is a thief, a common unscrupulous thief. I knew it the moment I saw him. Go and inform the police or I will.
[Going ; but he stops her.]
Bishop: And have him sent back to prison? (very softly) Sent back to Hell. No Persome: It is a just punishment for me; I set too great store by them. It was a sin. My punishment is just; but Oh God! it is hard, It is very hard. [He buries his head in his hands.]
Persome: No, brother, you are wrong. If you won't tell the police, I will. I will not stand by and see you robbed. I know you are my brother and my Bishop, and the best man in all France; but you are a fool, I tell you, a child, and I will not have your goodness abused, I shall go and inform the police (Going).
Bishop: Stop, Persome. The candlesticks were mine. They are his now. It is better so. He has more need of them than me. My mother would have wished it so, had she been here.
Persome: But-[Great knocking without.]
Sergeant (without). Monseigneur, Monseigneur, we have something for you. May we enter ?
Bishop: Enter, my son. [Enter Sergeant and three Gendarmes with Convict bound. The Sergeant
carries the candlesticks.]
Persome: Ah, so they have caught you, villain, have they ?
Sergeant: Yes, madam, we found this scoundrel slinking along the road, and as he wouldn't give any account of himself we arrested him on suspicion. Holy Virgin, isn't he strong and didn't he struggle! While we were securing him these candlesticks fell out of his pockets. (Persome seizes them, goes to table, and brushes them with her apron lovingly.) I remembered the candlesticks of
Monseigneur, the Bishop, so we brought him here that you might identity them, and then we'll lock him up. [The Bishop and the Convict have been looking at each other-the Convict with
dogged defiance.]
Bishop: But - but I don't understand, this gentleman is my very good friend.
Sergeant: Your friend, Monseigneur!! Holy Virgin ! Well!!!
Bishop: Yes, my friend. He did me the honour to sup with me to night, and I-I have given him the candlesticks.
Sergeant: (incredulously) You gave him-him your candlesticks ? Holy Virgin!
Bishop: (severely) Remember, my son, that she is holy.
Sergeant: (saluting) Pardon Monseigneur.
Bishop: And now I think you may let your prisoner go.
Sergeant: But he won't show me his papers. He won't tell me who he is.
Bishop: I have told you he is my friend.
Sergeant: Yes, that's all very well, but....
Bishop: He is your Bishop's friend, surely, that is enough!
Sergeant: Well, but....
Bishop: Surely?
[A pause. The Sergeant and the Bishop look at each other,]
Sergeant: I-I-Humph! (To his men) Loose the prisoner. (They do so). Right about turn, quick march!
[Exit Sergeant and Gendarmes. A long pause.]
Convict: (Very slowly, as if in a dream). You told them you had given me the candlesticks - given me... them. By God!
Persome: (Shaking her fist at him and hugging the candlesticks to her breast). Oh, you scoundrel, you pitiful scoundrel. You come here, and are fed and warmed, andand you thief.... you steal.... from your benefactor. Oh, you blackguard!
Bishop: Persome, you are overwrought. Go to your room.
Persome: What, and leave you with him to be cheated again, perhaps murdered ? No, I will not.
Bishop: (With slight severity). Persome, leave us. I wish it. [She looks hard at him, then
turns towards her door.]
Persome: Well, if I must go, at least I'll take the candlesticks with me.
Bishop: (More severely) Persome, place the candlesticks on that table and leave us.
Persome: (Defiantly). I will not!
Bishop: (Loudly and with great severity). I, your Bishop, commands it.
[Persome does so with great reluctance and exits R.]
Convict: (Shamefacedly) Monseigneur, I'm glad I didn't get away with them; curse me, I am, I'm glad.
Bishop: Now won't you sleep here ? See, your bed is ready.
Convict: No! (Looking at the candlesticks) No ! no! I daren't, I daren't. Besides, I must go on, I must get to Paris; it is big, and I-I can be lost there. They won't find me there. And I must travel at night. Do you understand ?
Bishop: I see-you must travel by night.
Convict: I-I-didn't believe there was any good in the world; one doesn't when one has been in Hell; but somehow I-I-know you're good, and-and it's a queer thing to ask, but-could you... would you.... bless me before I go ? I-I think it would help me. I.... [Hangs his head very shamefacedly.]
[Bishop makes the sign of the Cross and murmurs a blessing.]
Convict: (Tries to speak, but a sob almost chokes him). Good night. [He hurries towards the door.]
Bishop: Stay, my son, you have forgotten your property (giving him the candlesticks).
Convict: You mean me-you want me to take them ?
Bishop: Please.... they may help you. (The Convict takes the candlesticks in absolute amazement.) And, my son, there is a path through the woods at the back of this cottage which leads to Paris; it is a very lonely path and I have noticed that my good friends the gendarmes do not like lonely paths at night. It is curious.
Convict: Ah, thanks, thanks, Monseigneur. I-I-(He sobs.) Ah, I'm a fool, a child to cry, but somehow you have made me feel that.... that it is just as if something had come into me as if I were a man again and not a wild beast. [The door at back is open, and the Convict is standing in it.]
Bishop: (Putting his hand on his shoulder). Always remember, my son, that this poor body is the Temple of the Living God.
Convict: (With great awe). The Temple of the Living God. I'll remember.
About the Writer
Norman Mckinnel (1870-1932) was an actor and a dramatist, As a playwright he is
known for the play, 'The Bishop's Candlesticks' which is an adaptation of a section of
Victor Hugo's "Les Miserables". The play, which is very popular, is based on the
theme that love and kindness can change a man rather than violence. The play is
about a convict who breaks into the Bishop's house and is clothed and warmed. The
benevolence of the Bishop somewhat softens the convict, but, when he sees the
silver candlesticks, he steals them. He is captured and brought back. He expects to
go back to jail, but the Bishop informs the police they are a gift. The act of the Bishop
reforms the convict to a belief in the spirit of God that dwells in the heart of every
human being.
“If you are rested I would go,” I urged. “Get up and try to walk now.”
“Thank you,” he said and got to his feet, swayed from side to side and then sat down backwards in the dust.
“I was taking care of animals,” he said dully, but no longer to me. “I was only taking care of animals.”
There was nothing to do about him. It was Easter Sunday and the Fascists were advancing toward the Ebro. It was a grey overcast day with a low ceiling so their planes were not up. That and the fact that cats know how to look after themselves was all the good luck that the old man would ever have.
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
Explain the line, ‘There was nothing to do about him.’
But even as he approached the boy, Mr. Oliver sensed that something was wrong. The boy appeared to be crying. His head hung down, he held his face in his hands, and his body shook convulsively. It was a strange, soundless weeping, and Mr. Oliver felt distinctly uneasy.
Well, what’s the matter, he asked, his anger giving way to concern. What are you crying for? The boy would not answer or look up. His body continued to be wracked with silent sobbing.
Oh, come on, boy. You shouldn’t be out here at this hour. Tell me the trouble. Look up.
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
What did the boy appear to be doing?
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.
Who came to mourn the dead woman? Why did no one follow the dead cart?
Read the following passage carefully and answer the questions that follow:
Granny knew I'd been in the train for two nights, and she had a huge breakfast ready for me. Later she told me there'd been a letter from Uncle Ken.
'He says he's the manager in Fitpo's hotel in Simla,' she said. 'The salary is very good. It's a steady job and I hope he keeps it.' Three days later Uncle Ken was on the veranda steps with his bedding roll and battered suitcase. 'Have you given up the hotel job?' asked Granny. 'No,' said Uncle Ken. 'They have closed down.' I hope it wasn't because of you.' 'No, Aunt Ellen_ The bigger hotels in the hill stations are closing down. 'Well, never mind. Come along and have your lunch. Over lunch; Uncle Ken talked very seriously about ways and means of earning a living. There is only one taxi in the whole of Debra, he mused. 'Surely there is business for another?' `I'm sure there is,' said Granny. 'But where does it get you? In the first place, you don't have a taxi. And in the second place, you can't drive.' I can soon learn. There's a driving school in town. And I can use Uncle's old car.' 'I don't think it will run now,' said Granny. 'Of course, it will. It just needs some oiling and greasing and a spot of paint.' 'All right, learn to drive.' So, Uncle Ken joined the driving school.After a month Uncle Ken announced that he could drive and that he was taking the car out for a trial run. 'You haven't got your license yet,' said Granny. 'Oh, I won't take it far,' said Uncle Ken. 'Just down the road and back again.' He spent all morning cleaning up the car. Granny gave him money for a can of petrol. After tea, Uncle Ken said, 'Come along, Ruskin, hop in and I will give you a ride. Bring Mohan along too.' Mohan and I needed no urging. We got into the car beside Uncle Ken. 'Now don't go too fast, Ken,' said Granny anxiously. 'You are not used to the car as yet.' Uncle Ken nodded and smiled and gave two sharp toots on the horn. He was feeling pleased with himself. Driving through the gate, he nearly ran over a cat. Miss Kellner, coming out for her evening rickshaw ride, saw Uncle Ken at the wheel of the car and ran indoors again. [40] Uncle Ken drove straight and fast, tootling the horn without a break. At the end of the road there was a roundabout. 'We’ll turn here,' said Uncle Ken, 'and then drive back again.' He turned tt;e steering wheel, we began going round the roundabout, but the steering wheel wouldn't turn all the way, not as much as Uncle Ken would have liked it to... So, instead he went on - and straight through the Maharaja of Jetpur’s garden wall. It was a single-brick wall, and the car knocked it down and emerged on the other, side without any damage to the car or any of its occupants. Uncle Ken brought it to a halt in the middle of the Maharaja's lawn. Running across the grass came the Maharaja himself. When he saw that it was Uncle Ken at the wheel, the Maharaja beamed with pleasure. 'Delighted to see you, old chap!' he exclaimed. 'Jolly decent of you to drop in again. How about a game of tennis?'
(a) Give the meaning of the following words as used in the passage:
One word answers or short phrases will be accepted.
(i) battered
(ii) bused
(iii) emerged
(b) Answer the following questions briefly in your own words.
(i) Why did Granny hope Uncle Ken would keep his job at Fitgo's hotel?
(ii) When Uncle Ken arrived with his luggage, Granny remarked that she hoped the hotel had not closed down because of him. What does this remark tell you about Uncle Ken?
(iii) Why did Uncle Ken think that driving a taxi in Dehra would be profitable?
(iv) Which sentence tells you that the narrator and his friend were waiting to be invited for a drive in a car?
(v) Why did Miss Kellner run indoors when she saw Uncle Ken at the wheel of the car?
(vi) What was Uncle Ken's intention at the roundabout?
(c)
(I) In not more than 60 words, describe what happened after the car went through the wall.
(ii) Give a title to your summary in 3(c)(i). Give a reason to justify choice of the title.
What does ti» poet wish for al the end ~f the poem? What does tl1e poem tell the readers about the poet? Give a reason to justify yow· answer.
Answer the following question.
“We have orders to let them shout”.What is the policeman referring to?
The beggar was leaning against what in Ravi’s garden?
Why did Soapy not like to go to his known persons?
Why did the lady chain the bear on Sundays?
Comment on the tone of the speaker when he says, “Trees are for no shade in winters.”
Word in the box given below indicates a large number of… For example, ‘a herd of cows’ refers to many cows. Complete the following phrase with a suitable word from the box.
a _______________ of fish
Answer the following question.
What was the purpose of these special days?
Sit in a circle so that you can see each other. Each one must talk to complete the following sentence in his own way. “What makes me very angry is …”. Remember to listen with respect and without comment to each person as he/she speaks.
What did the squirrel do if someone came too close to his tree?
Read the following sets of words loudly and clearly.
cot – coat
cost – coast
tossed – toast
got – goat
rot – rote
blot – bloat
knot – note
In the short story, To Build a Fire, which "wild idea" came into the Man's head when all seemed lost?
