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Question
Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold:-
Read the lines given above and answer the following question.
What was Abou dreaming about?
Solution
Abou was dreaming about peace in the world.
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The black man's face bespoke revenge
As the fire passed from his sight.
For all he saw in his stick of wood
Was a chance to spite the white.
The last man of this forlorn group
Did nought except for gain.
Giving only to those who gave
Was how he played the game.
Their logs held tight in death's still hands
Was proof of human sin.
They didn't die from the cold without
They died from the cold within.
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Analyse the title and whether it is appropriate.
“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.”
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Why do marshals handcuff themselves to their prisoners?
This woman had been despised, scoffed at, and angrily denounced by nearly every man, woman, and child in the village; but now, as the fact of, her death was passed from lip to lip, in subdued tones, pity took the place of anger, and sorrow of denunciation.
Neighbours went hastily to the old tumble-down hut, in which she had secured little more than a place of shelter from summer heats and winter cold: some with grave-clothes for a decent interment of the body; and some with food for the half-starving children, three in number. Of these, John, the oldest, a boy of twelve, was a stout lad, able to earn his living with any farmer. Kate, between ten and eleven, was bright, active girl, out of whom something clever might be made, if in good hands; but poor little Maggie, the youngest, was hopelessly diseased. Two years before a fall from a window had injured her spine, and she had not been able to leave her bed since, except when lifted in the arms of her mother.
“What is to be done with the children?” That was the chief question now. The dead mother would go underground, and be forever beyond all care or concern of the villagers. But the children must not be left to starve.
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Describe the three children.
Margot stood apart from these children who could never remember a time when there wasn’t rain and rain and rain. They were all nine years old, and if there had been a day, seven years ago, when the sun came out for an hour and showed its face to the stunned world, they could not recall. Sometimes, at night, she heard them stir, in remembrance, and she knew they were dreaming and remembering an old or a yellow crayon or a coin large enough to buy the world with. She knew they thought they remembered a warmness, like a blushing in the face, in the body, in the arms and legs and trembling hands. But then they always awoke to the tatting drum, the endless shaking down of clear bead necklaces upon the roof, the walk, the gardens, the forests, and their dreams were gone. All day yesterday they had read in class about the sun. About how like a lemon it was, and how hot. And they had written small stories or essays or poems about it:
I think the snn is a flower,
That blooms for just one hour.
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What had Margot written about the sun in her poem?
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.......Once again Clover and Benjamin warned him to take care of his health, but Boxer paid, no attention. His twelfth birthday was approaching. He did not care what happened so long as a good store of stone was accumulated before he went on a pension.
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(ii) Why did the animals feel uneasy when Squealer told them that Boxer would be sent to a hospital at Willingdon for treatment?
How did Squealer reassure them?
(iii) How much longer did Boxer expect to live?
How did he plan to spend his remaining days?
(iv) What was written on the van that took Boxer away? What did Boxer do when he heard the screams of the animals?
(v) What was the new name given to Animal Farm by Napoleon?
What strange transformation did the animals notice on the faces of the pigs?
What is the significance of this transformation?
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Each Friday morning the whole school spent the pre-recess period in writing their Weekly Review. This was one of the Old Man’s pet schemes; and one about which he would brook no interference. Each child would review the events of his school week in his own words, in his own way; he was free to comment, to criticize, to agree or disagree, with any person, subject or method, as long as it was in some way associated with the school …..
(i) Why did Mr. Florian feel that the weekly review was of advantage to both pupil and teacher?
(ii) Why did Braithwaite feel both relief and disappointment at the first weekly review his students had written since he joined the school?
(iii) How was he given the silent treatment by his students?
(iv) What does Braithwaite term the second and more annoying phase of his relationship with his students? What did some students do to disrupt his class?
(v) Mention two qualities in Braithwaite’s character which help him to become a model teacher. Give suitable examples to illustrate your choice.
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