OneTime: Digital SAT Mock Test - 8 - SAT MCQ
30 Questions MCQ Test Digital SAT Mock Test Series 2024 - OneTime: Digital SAT Mock Test - 8
Question based on the following passage.
This passage is adapted from Saki, “The Schartz-Metterklume Method.” Originally published in 1911.
Lady Carlotta stepped out on to the platform of
the small wayside station and took a turn or two up
and down its uninteresting length, to kill time till the
train should be pleased to proceed on its way. Then,
(5) in the roadway beyond, she saw a horse struggling
with a more than ample load, and a carter of the sort
that seems to bear a sullen hatred against the animal
that helps him to earn a living. Lady Carlotta
promptly betook her to the roadway, and put rather a
(10) different complexion on the struggle. Certain of her
acquaintances were wont to give her plentiful
admonition as to the undesirability of interfering on
behalf of a distressed animal, such interference being
“none of her business.” Only once had she put the
(15) doctrine of non-interference into practice, when one
of its most eloquent exponents had been besieged for
nearly three hours in a small and extremely
uncomfortable may-tree by an angry boar-pig, while
Lady Carlotta, on the other side of the fence, had
(20) proceeded with the water-colour sketch she was
engaged on, and refused to interfere between the
boar and his prisoner. It is to be feared that she lost
the friendship of the ultimately rescued lady. On this
occasion she merely lost the train, which gave way to
(25) the first sign of impatience it had shown throughout
the journey, and steamed off without her. She bore
the desertion with philosophical indifference; her
friends and relations were thoroughly well used to
the fact of her luggage arriving without her.
(30) She wired a vague non-committal message to her
destination to say that she was coming on “by
another train.” Before she had time to think what her
next move might be she was confronted by an
imposingly attired lady, who seemed to be taking a
(35) prolonged mental inventory of her clothes and looks.
“You must be Miss Hope, the governess I’ve come
to meet,” said the apparition, in a tone that admitted
of very little argument.
“Very well, if I must I must,” said Lady Carlotta to
(40) herself with dangerous meekness.
“I am Mrs. Quabarl,” continued the lady; “and
where, pray, is your luggage?”
“It’s gone astray,” said the alleged governess,
falling in with the excellent rule of life that the absent
(45) are always to blame; the luggage had, in point of fact,
behaved with perfect correctitude. “I’ve just
telegraphed about it,” she added, with a nearer
approach to truth.
“How provoking,” said Mrs. Quabarl; “these
(50) railway companies are so careless. However, my
maid can lend you things for the night,” and she led
the way to her car.
During the drive to the Quabarl mansion
Lady Carlotta was impressively introduced to the
(55) nature of the charge that had been thrust upon her;
she learned that Claude and Wilfrid were delicate,
sensitive young people, that Irene had the artistic
temperament highly developed, and that Viola was
something or other else of a mould equally
(60) commonplace among children of that class and type
in the twentieth century.
“I wish them not only to be TAUGHT,” said Mrs.
Quabarl, “but INTERESTED in what they learn. In
their history lessons, for instance, you must try to
(65) make them feel that they are being introduced to the
life-stories of men and women who really lived, not
merely committing a mass of names and dates to
memory. French, of course, I shall expect you to talk
at meal-times several days in the week.”
(70) “I shall talk French four days of the week and
Russian in the remaining three.”
“Russian? My dear Miss Hope, no one in the
house speaks or understands Russian.”
“That will not embarrass me in the least,” said
(75) Lady Carlotta coldly.
Mrs. Quabarl, to use a colloquial expression, was
knocked off her perch. She was one of those
imperfectly self-assured individuals who are
magnificent and autocratic as long as they are not
(80) seriously opposed. The least show of unexpected
resistance goes a long way towards rendering them
cowed and apologetic. When the new governess
failed to express wondering admiration of the large
newly-purchased and expensive car, and lightly
(85) alluded to the superior advantages of one or two
makes which had just been put on the market, the
discomfiture of her patroness became almost abject.
Her feelings were those which might have animated a
general of ancient warfaring days, on beholding his
(90) heaviest battle-elephant ignominiously driven off the
field by slingers and javelin throwers.
Q. Which choice best summarizes the passage?
This passage is adapted from Saki, “The Schartz-Metterklume Method.” Originally published in 1911.
the small wayside station and took a turn or two up
and down its uninteresting length, to kill time till the
train should be pleased to proceed on its way. Then,
(5) in the roadway beyond, she saw a horse struggling
with a more than ample load, and a carter of the sort
that seems to bear a sullen hatred against the animal
that helps him to earn a living. Lady Carlotta
promptly betook her to the roadway, and put rather a
(10) different complexion on the struggle. Certain of her
acquaintances were wont to give her plentiful
admonition as to the undesirability of interfering on
behalf of a distressed animal, such interference being
“none of her business.” Only once had she put the
(15) doctrine of non-interference into practice, when one
of its most eloquent exponents had been besieged for
nearly three hours in a small and extremely
uncomfortable may-tree by an angry boar-pig, while
Lady Carlotta, on the other side of the fence, had
(20) proceeded with the water-colour sketch she was
engaged on, and refused to interfere between the
boar and his prisoner. It is to be feared that she lost
the friendship of the ultimately rescued lady. On this
occasion she merely lost the train, which gave way to
(25) the first sign of impatience it had shown throughout
the journey, and steamed off without her. She bore
the desertion with philosophical indifference; her
friends and relations were thoroughly well used to
the fact of her luggage arriving without her.
(30) She wired a vague non-committal message to her
destination to say that she was coming on “by
another train.” Before she had time to think what her
next move might be she was confronted by an
imposingly attired lady, who seemed to be taking a
(35) prolonged mental inventory of her clothes and looks.
“You must be Miss Hope, the governess I’ve come
to meet,” said the apparition, in a tone that admitted
of very little argument.
“Very well, if I must I must,” said Lady Carlotta to
(40) herself with dangerous meekness.
“I am Mrs. Quabarl,” continued the lady; “and
where, pray, is your luggage?”
“It’s gone astray,” said the alleged governess,
falling in with the excellent rule of life that the absent
(45) are always to blame; the luggage had, in point of fact,
behaved with perfect correctitude. “I’ve just
telegraphed about it,” she added, with a nearer
approach to truth.
“How provoking,” said Mrs. Quabarl; “these
(50) railway companies are so careless. However, my
maid can lend you things for the night,” and she led
the way to her car.
During the drive to the Quabarl mansion
Lady Carlotta was impressively introduced to the
(55) nature of the charge that had been thrust upon her;
she learned that Claude and Wilfrid were delicate,
sensitive young people, that Irene had the artistic
temperament highly developed, and that Viola was
something or other else of a mould equally
(60) commonplace among children of that class and type
in the twentieth century.
“I wish them not only to be TAUGHT,” said Mrs.
Quabarl, “but INTERESTED in what they learn. In
their history lessons, for instance, you must try to
(65) make them feel that they are being introduced to the
life-stories of men and women who really lived, not
merely committing a mass of names and dates to
memory. French, of course, I shall expect you to talk
at meal-times several days in the week.”
(70) “I shall talk French four days of the week and
Russian in the remaining three.”
“Russian? My dear Miss Hope, no one in the
house speaks or understands Russian.”
“That will not embarrass me in the least,” said
(75) Lady Carlotta coldly.
Mrs. Quabarl, to use a colloquial expression, was
knocked off her perch. She was one of those
imperfectly self-assured individuals who are
magnificent and autocratic as long as they are not
(80) seriously opposed. The least show of unexpected
resistance goes a long way towards rendering them
cowed and apologetic. When the new governess
failed to express wondering admiration of the large
newly-purchased and expensive car, and lightly
(85) alluded to the superior advantages of one or two
makes which had just been put on the market, the
discomfiture of her patroness became almost abject.
Her feelings were those which might have animated a
general of ancient warfaring days, on beholding his
(90) heaviest battle-elephant ignominiously driven off the
field by slingers and javelin throwers.
Question based on the following passage.
This passage is adapted from Saki, “The Schartz-Metterklume Method.” Originally published in 1911.
Lady Carlotta stepped out on to the platform of
the small wayside station and took a turn or two up
and down its uninteresting length, to kill time till the
train should be pleased to proceed on its way. Then,
(5) in the roadway beyond, she saw a horse struggling
with a more than ample load, and a carter of the sort
that seems to bear a sullen hatred against the animal
that helps him to earn a living. Lady Carlotta
promptly betook her to the roadway, and put rather a
(10) different complexion on the struggle. Certain of her
acquaintances were wont to give her plentiful
admonition as to the undesirability of interfering on
behalf of a distressed animal, such interference being
“none of her business.” Only once had she put the
(15) doctrine of non-interference into practice, when one
of its most eloquent exponents had been besieged for
nearly three hours in a small and extremely
uncomfortable may-tree by an angry boar-pig, while
Lady Carlotta, on the other side of the fence, had
(20) proceeded with the water-colour sketch she was
engaged on, and refused to interfere between the
boar and his prisoner. It is to be feared that she lost
the friendship of the ultimately rescued lady. On this
occasion she merely lost the train, which gave way to
(25) the first sign of impatience it had shown throughout
the journey, and steamed off without her. She bore
the desertion with philosophical indifference; her
friends and relations were thoroughly well used to
the fact of her luggage arriving without her.
(30) She wired a vague non-committal message to her
destination to say that she was coming on “by
another train.” Before she had time to think what her
next move might be she was confronted by an
imposingly attired lady, who seemed to be taking a
(35) prolonged mental inventory of her clothes and looks.
“You must be Miss Hope, the governess I’ve come
to meet,” said the apparition, in a tone that admitted
of very little argument.
“Very well, if I must I must,” said Lady Carlotta to
(40) herself with dangerous meekness.
“I am Mrs. Quabarl,” continued the lady; “and
where, pray, is your luggage?”
“It’s gone astray,” said the alleged governess,
falling in with the excellent rule of life that the absent
(45) are always to blame; the luggage had, in point of fact,
behaved with perfect correctitude. “I’ve just
telegraphed about it,” she added, with a nearer
approach to truth.
“How provoking,” said Mrs. Quabarl; “these
(50) railway companies are so careless. However, my
maid can lend you things for the night,” and she led
the way to her car.
During the drive to the Quabarl mansion
Lady Carlotta was impressively introduced to the
(55) nature of the charge that had been thrust upon her;
she learned that Claude and Wilfrid were delicate,
sensitive young people, that Irene had the artistic
temperament highly developed, and that Viola was
something or other else of a mould equally
(60) commonplace among children of that class and type
in the twentieth century.
“I wish them not only to be TAUGHT,” said Mrs.
Quabarl, “but INTERESTED in what they learn. In
their history lessons, for instance, you must try to
(65) make them feel that they are being introduced to the
life-stories of men and women who really lived, not
merely committing a mass of names and dates to
memory. French, of course, I shall expect you to talk
at meal-times several days in the week.”
(70) “I shall talk French four days of the week and
Russian in the remaining three.”
“Russian? My dear Miss Hope, no one in the
house speaks or understands Russian.”
“That will not embarrass me in the least,” said
(75) Lady Carlotta coldly.
Mrs. Quabarl, to use a colloquial expression, was
knocked off her perch. She was one of those
imperfectly self-assured individuals who are
magnificent and autocratic as long as they are not
(80) seriously opposed. The least show of unexpected
resistance goes a long way towards rendering them
cowed and apologetic. When the new governess
failed to express wondering admiration of the large
newly-purchased and expensive car, and lightly
(85) alluded to the superior advantages of one or two
makes which had just been put on the market, the
discomfiture of her patroness became almost abject.
Her feelings were those which might have animated a
general of ancient warfaring days, on beholding his
(90) heaviest battle-elephant ignominiously driven off the
field by slingers and javelin throwers.
Q. In line 2, “turn” most nearly means
This passage is adapted from Saki, “The Schartz-Metterklume Method.” Originally published in 1911.
the small wayside station and took a turn or two up
and down its uninteresting length, to kill time till the
train should be pleased to proceed on its way. Then,
(5) in the roadway beyond, she saw a horse struggling
with a more than ample load, and a carter of the sort
that seems to bear a sullen hatred against the animal
that helps him to earn a living. Lady Carlotta
promptly betook her to the roadway, and put rather a
(10) different complexion on the struggle. Certain of her
acquaintances were wont to give her plentiful
admonition as to the undesirability of interfering on
behalf of a distressed animal, such interference being
“none of her business.” Only once had she put the
(15) doctrine of non-interference into practice, when one
of its most eloquent exponents had been besieged for
nearly three hours in a small and extremely
uncomfortable may-tree by an angry boar-pig, while
Lady Carlotta, on the other side of the fence, had
(20) proceeded with the water-colour sketch she was
engaged on, and refused to interfere between the
boar and his prisoner. It is to be feared that she lost
the friendship of the ultimately rescued lady. On this
occasion she merely lost the train, which gave way to
(25) the first sign of impatience it had shown throughout
the journey, and steamed off without her. She bore
the desertion with philosophical indifference; her
friends and relations were thoroughly well used to
the fact of her luggage arriving without her.
(30) She wired a vague non-committal message to her
destination to say that she was coming on “by
another train.” Before she had time to think what her
next move might be she was confronted by an
imposingly attired lady, who seemed to be taking a
(35) prolonged mental inventory of her clothes and looks.
“You must be Miss Hope, the governess I’ve come
to meet,” said the apparition, in a tone that admitted
of very little argument.
“Very well, if I must I must,” said Lady Carlotta to
(40) herself with dangerous meekness.
“I am Mrs. Quabarl,” continued the lady; “and
where, pray, is your luggage?”
“It’s gone astray,” said the alleged governess,
falling in with the excellent rule of life that the absent
(45) are always to blame; the luggage had, in point of fact,
behaved with perfect correctitude. “I’ve just
telegraphed about it,” she added, with a nearer
approach to truth.
“How provoking,” said Mrs. Quabarl; “these
(50) railway companies are so careless. However, my
maid can lend you things for the night,” and she led
the way to her car.
During the drive to the Quabarl mansion
Lady Carlotta was impressively introduced to the
(55) nature of the charge that had been thrust upon her;
she learned that Claude and Wilfrid were delicate,
sensitive young people, that Irene had the artistic
temperament highly developed, and that Viola was
something or other else of a mould equally
(60) commonplace among children of that class and type
in the twentieth century.
“I wish them not only to be TAUGHT,” said Mrs.
Quabarl, “but INTERESTED in what they learn. In
their history lessons, for instance, you must try to
(65) make them feel that they are being introduced to the
life-stories of men and women who really lived, not
merely committing a mass of names and dates to
memory. French, of course, I shall expect you to talk
at meal-times several days in the week.”
(70) “I shall talk French four days of the week and
Russian in the remaining three.”
“Russian? My dear Miss Hope, no one in the
house speaks or understands Russian.”
“That will not embarrass me in the least,” said
(75) Lady Carlotta coldly.
Mrs. Quabarl, to use a colloquial expression, was
knocked off her perch. She was one of those
imperfectly self-assured individuals who are
magnificent and autocratic as long as they are not
(80) seriously opposed. The least show of unexpected
resistance goes a long way towards rendering them
cowed and apologetic. When the new governess
failed to express wondering admiration of the large
newly-purchased and expensive car, and lightly
(85) alluded to the superior advantages of one or two
makes which had just been put on the market, the
discomfiture of her patroness became almost abject.
Her feelings were those which might have animated a
general of ancient warfaring days, on beholding his
(90) heaviest battle-elephant ignominiously driven off the
field by slingers and javelin throwers.
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Question based on the following passage.
This passage is adapted from Saki, “The Schartz-Metterklume Method.” Originally published in 1911.
Lady Carlotta stepped out on to the platform of
the small wayside station and took a turn or two up
and down its uninteresting length, to kill time till the
train should be pleased to proceed on its way. Then,
(5) in the roadway beyond, she saw a horse struggling
with a more than ample load, and a carter of the sort
that seems to bear a sullen hatred against the animal
that helps him to earn a living. Lady Carlotta
promptly betook her to the roadway, and put rather a
(10) different complexion on the struggle. Certain of her
acquaintances were wont to give her plentiful
admonition as to the undesirability of interfering on
behalf of a distressed animal, such interference being
“none of her business.” Only once had she put the
(15) doctrine of non-interference into practice, when one
of its most eloquent exponents had been besieged for
nearly three hours in a small and extremely
uncomfortable may-tree by an angry boar-pig, while
Lady Carlotta, on the other side of the fence, had
(20) proceeded with the water-colour sketch she was
engaged on, and refused to interfere between the
boar and his prisoner. It is to be feared that she lost
the friendship of the ultimately rescued lady. On this
occasion she merely lost the train, which gave way to
(25) the first sign of impatience it had shown throughout
the journey, and steamed off without her. She bore
the desertion with philosophical indifference; her
friends and relations were thoroughly well used to
the fact of her luggage arriving without her.
(30) She wired a vague non-committal message to her
destination to say that she was coming on “by
another train.” Before she had time to think what her
next move might be she was confronted by an
imposingly attired lady, who seemed to be taking a
(35) prolonged mental inventory of her clothes and looks.
“You must be Miss Hope, the governess I’ve come
to meet,” said the apparition, in a tone that admitted
of very little argument.
“Very well, if I must I must,” said Lady Carlotta to
(40) herself with dangerous meekness.
“I am Mrs. Quabarl,” continued the lady; “and
where, pray, is your luggage?”
“It’s gone astray,” said the alleged governess,
falling in with the excellent rule of life that the absent
(45) are always to blame; the luggage had, in point of fact,
behaved with perfect correctitude. “I’ve just
telegraphed about it,” she added, with a nearer
approach to truth.
“How provoking,” said Mrs. Quabarl; “these
(50) railway companies are so careless. However, my
maid can lend you things for the night,” and she led
the way to her car.
During the drive to the Quabarl mansion
Lady Carlotta was impressively introduced to the
(55) nature of the charge that had been thrust upon her;
she learned that Claude and Wilfrid were delicate,
sensitive young people, that Irene had the artistic
temperament highly developed, and that Viola was
something or other else of a mould equally
(60) commonplace among children of that class and type
in the twentieth century.
“I wish them not only to be TAUGHT,” said Mrs.
Quabarl, “but INTERESTED in what they learn. In
their history lessons, for instance, you must try to
(65) make them feel that they are being introduced to the
life-stories of men and women who really lived, not
merely committing a mass of names and dates to
memory. French, of course, I shall expect you to talk
at meal-times several days in the week.”
(70) “I shall talk French four days of the week and
Russian in the remaining three.”
“Russian? My dear Miss Hope, no one in the
house speaks or understands Russian.”
“That will not embarrass me in the least,” said
(75) Lady Carlotta coldly.
Mrs. Quabarl, to use a colloquial expression, was
knocked off her perch. She was one of those
imperfectly self-assured individuals who are
magnificent and autocratic as long as they are not
(80) seriously opposed. The least show of unexpected
resistance goes a long way towards rendering them
cowed and apologetic. When the new governess
failed to express wondering admiration of the large
newly-purchased and expensive car, and lightly
(85) alluded to the superior advantages of one or two
makes which had just been put on the market, the
discomfiture of her patroness became almost abject.
Her feelings were those which might have animated a
general of ancient warfaring days, on beholding his
(90) heaviest battle-elephant ignominiously driven off the
field by slingers and javelin throwers.
Q. The passage most clearly implies that other peopleregarded Lady Carlotta as
This passage is adapted from Saki, “The Schartz-Metterklume Method.” Originally published in 1911.
the small wayside station and took a turn or two up
and down its uninteresting length, to kill time till the
train should be pleased to proceed on its way. Then,
(5) in the roadway beyond, she saw a horse struggling
with a more than ample load, and a carter of the sort
that seems to bear a sullen hatred against the animal
that helps him to earn a living. Lady Carlotta
promptly betook her to the roadway, and put rather a
(10) different complexion on the struggle. Certain of her
acquaintances were wont to give her plentiful
admonition as to the undesirability of interfering on
behalf of a distressed animal, such interference being
“none of her business.” Only once had she put the
(15) doctrine of non-interference into practice, when one
of its most eloquent exponents had been besieged for
nearly three hours in a small and extremely
uncomfortable may-tree by an angry boar-pig, while
Lady Carlotta, on the other side of the fence, had
(20) proceeded with the water-colour sketch she was
engaged on, and refused to interfere between the
boar and his prisoner. It is to be feared that she lost
the friendship of the ultimately rescued lady. On this
occasion she merely lost the train, which gave way to
(25) the first sign of impatience it had shown throughout
the journey, and steamed off without her. She bore
the desertion with philosophical indifference; her
friends and relations were thoroughly well used to
the fact of her luggage arriving without her.
(30) She wired a vague non-committal message to her
destination to say that she was coming on “by
another train.” Before she had time to think what her
next move might be she was confronted by an
imposingly attired lady, who seemed to be taking a
(35) prolonged mental inventory of her clothes and looks.
“You must be Miss Hope, the governess I’ve come
to meet,” said the apparition, in a tone that admitted
of very little argument.
“Very well, if I must I must,” said Lady Carlotta to
(40) herself with dangerous meekness.
“I am Mrs. Quabarl,” continued the lady; “and
where, pray, is your luggage?”
“It’s gone astray,” said the alleged governess,
falling in with the excellent rule of life that the absent
(45) are always to blame; the luggage had, in point of fact,
behaved with perfect correctitude. “I’ve just
telegraphed about it,” she added, with a nearer
approach to truth.
“How provoking,” said Mrs. Quabarl; “these
(50) railway companies are so careless. However, my
maid can lend you things for the night,” and she led
the way to her car.
During the drive to the Quabarl mansion
Lady Carlotta was impressively introduced to the
(55) nature of the charge that had been thrust upon her;
she learned that Claude and Wilfrid were delicate,
sensitive young people, that Irene had the artistic
temperament highly developed, and that Viola was
something or other else of a mould equally
(60) commonplace among children of that class and type
in the twentieth century.
“I wish them not only to be TAUGHT,” said Mrs.
Quabarl, “but INTERESTED in what they learn. In
their history lessons, for instance, you must try to
(65) make them feel that they are being introduced to the
life-stories of men and women who really lived, not
merely committing a mass of names and dates to
memory. French, of course, I shall expect you to talk
at meal-times several days in the week.”
(70) “I shall talk French four days of the week and
Russian in the remaining three.”
“Russian? My dear Miss Hope, no one in the
house speaks or understands Russian.”
“That will not embarrass me in the least,” said
(75) Lady Carlotta coldly.
Mrs. Quabarl, to use a colloquial expression, was
knocked off her perch. She was one of those
imperfectly self-assured individuals who are
magnificent and autocratic as long as they are not
(80) seriously opposed. The least show of unexpected
resistance goes a long way towards rendering them
cowed and apologetic. When the new governess
failed to express wondering admiration of the large
newly-purchased and expensive car, and lightly
(85) alluded to the superior advantages of one or two
makes which had just been put on the market, the
discomfiture of her patroness became almost abject.
Her feelings were those which might have animated a
general of ancient warfaring days, on beholding his
(90) heaviest battle-elephant ignominiously driven off the
field by slingers and javelin throwers.
Question based on the following passage.
This passage is adapted from Saki, “The Schartz-Metterklume Method.” Originally published in 1911.
Lady Carlotta stepped out on to the platform of
the small wayside station and took a turn or two up
and down its uninteresting length, to kill time till the
train should be pleased to proceed on its way. Then,
(5) in the roadway beyond, she saw a horse struggling
with a more than ample load, and a carter of the sort
that seems to bear a sullen hatred against the animal
that helps him to earn a living. Lady Carlotta
promptly betook her to the roadway, and put rather a
(10) different complexion on the struggle. Certain of her
acquaintances were wont to give her plentiful
admonition as to the undesirability of interfering on
behalf of a distressed animal, such interference being
“none of her business.” Only once had she put the
(15) doctrine of non-interference into practice, when one
of its most eloquent exponents had been besieged for
nearly three hours in a small and extremely
uncomfortable may-tree by an angry boar-pig, while
Lady Carlotta, on the other side of the fence, had
(20) proceeded with the water-colour sketch she was
engaged on, and refused to interfere between the
boar and his prisoner. It is to be feared that she lost
the friendship of the ultimately rescued lady. On this
occasion she merely lost the train, which gave way to
(25) the first sign of impatience it had shown throughout
the journey, and steamed off without her. She bore
the desertion with philosophical indifference; her
friends and relations were thoroughly well used to
the fact of her luggage arriving without her.
(30) She wired a vague non-committal message to her
destination to say that she was coming on “by
another train.” Before she had time to think what her
next move might be she was confronted by an
imposingly attired lady, who seemed to be taking a
(35) prolonged mental inventory of her clothes and looks.
“You must be Miss Hope, the governess I’ve come
to meet,” said the apparition, in a tone that admitted
of very little argument.
“Very well, if I must I must,” said Lady Carlotta to
(40) herself with dangerous meekness.
“I am Mrs. Quabarl,” continued the lady; “and
where, pray, is your luggage?”
“It’s gone astray,” said the alleged governess,
falling in with the excellent rule of life that the absent
(45) are always to blame; the luggage had, in point of fact,
behaved with perfect correctitude. “I’ve just
telegraphed about it,” she added, with a nearer
approach to truth.
“How provoking,” said Mrs. Quabarl; “these
(50) railway companies are so careless. However, my
maid can lend you things for the night,” and she led
the way to her car.
During the drive to the Quabarl mansion
Lady Carlotta was impressively introduced to the
(55) nature of the charge that had been thrust upon her;
she learned that Claude and Wilfrid were delicate,
sensitive young people, that Irene had the artistic
temperament highly developed, and that Viola was
something or other else of a mould equally
(60) commonplace among children of that class and type
in the twentieth century.
“I wish them not only to be TAUGHT,” said Mrs.
Quabarl, “but INTERESTED in what they learn. In
their history lessons, for instance, you must try to
(65) make them feel that they are being introduced to the
life-stories of men and women who really lived, not
merely committing a mass of names and dates to
memory. French, of course, I shall expect you to talk
at meal-times several days in the week.”
(70) “I shall talk French four days of the week and
Russian in the remaining three.”
“Russian? My dear Miss Hope, no one in the
house speaks or understands Russian.”
“That will not embarrass me in the least,” said
(75) Lady Carlotta coldly.
Mrs. Quabarl, to use a colloquial expression, was
knocked off her perch. She was one of those
imperfectly self-assured individuals who are
magnificent and autocratic as long as they are not
(80) seriously opposed. The least show of unexpected
resistance goes a long way towards rendering them
cowed and apologetic. When the new governess
failed to express wondering admiration of the large
newly-purchased and expensive car, and lightly
(85) alluded to the superior advantages of one or two
makes which had just been put on the market, the
discomfiture of her patroness became almost abject.
Her feelings were those which might have animated a
general of ancient warfaring days, on beholding his
(90) heaviest battle-elephant ignominiously driven off the
field by slingers and javelin throwers.
Q. Which choice provides the best evidence for the answer to the previous question?
Question based on the following passage.
This passage is adapted from Saki, “The Schartz-Metterklume Method.” Originally published in 1911.
Lady Carlotta stepped out on to the platform of
the small wayside station and took a turn or two up
and down its uninteresting length, to kill time till the
train should be pleased to proceed on its way. Then,
(5) in the roadway beyond, she saw a horse struggling
with a more than ample load, and a carter of the sort
that seems to bear a sullen hatred against the animal
that helps him to earn a living. Lady Carlotta
promptly betook her to the roadway, and put rather a
(10) different complexion on the struggle. Certain of her
acquaintances were wont to give her plentiful
admonition as to the undesirability of interfering on
behalf of a distressed animal, such interference being
“none of her business.” Only once had she put the
(15) doctrine of non-interference into practice, when one
of its most eloquent exponents had been besieged for
nearly three hours in a small and extremely
uncomfortable may-tree by an angry boar-pig, while
Lady Carlotta, on the other side of the fence, had
(20) proceeded with the water-colour sketch she was
engaged on, and refused to interfere between the
boar and his prisoner. It is to be feared that she lost
the friendship of the ultimately rescued lady. On this
occasion she merely lost the train, which gave way to
(25) the first sign of impatience it had shown throughout
the journey, and steamed off without her. She bore
the desertion with philosophical indifference; her
friends and relations were thoroughly well used to
the fact of her luggage arriving without her.
(30) She wired a vague non-committal message to her
destination to say that she was coming on “by
another train.” Before she had time to think what her
next move might be she was confronted by an
imposingly attired lady, who seemed to be taking a
(35) prolonged mental inventory of her clothes and looks.
“You must be Miss Hope, the governess I’ve come
to meet,” said the apparition, in a tone that admitted
of very little argument.
“Very well, if I must I must,” said Lady Carlotta to
(40) herself with dangerous meekness.
“I am Mrs. Quabarl,” continued the lady; “and
where, pray, is your luggage?”
“It’s gone astray,” said the alleged governess,
falling in with the excellent rule of life that the absent
(45) are always to blame; the luggage had, in point of fact,
behaved with perfect correctitude. “I’ve just
telegraphed about it,” she added, with a nearer
approach to truth.
“How provoking,” said Mrs. Quabarl; “these
(50) railway companies are so careless. However, my
maid can lend you things for the night,” and she led
the way to her car.
During the drive to the Quabarl mansion
Lady Carlotta was impressively introduced to the
(55) nature of the charge that had been thrust upon her;
she learned that Claude and Wilfrid were delicate,
sensitive young people, that Irene had the artistic
temperament highly developed, and that Viola was
something or other else of a mould equally
(60) commonplace among children of that class and type
in the twentieth century.
“I wish them not only to be TAUGHT,” said Mrs.
Quabarl, “but INTERESTED in what they learn. In
their history lessons, for instance, you must try to
(65) make them feel that they are being introduced to the
life-stories of men and women who really lived, not
merely committing a mass of names and dates to
memory. French, of course, I shall expect you to talk
at meal-times several days in the week.”
(70) “I shall talk French four days of the week and
Russian in the remaining three.”
“Russian? My dear Miss Hope, no one in the
house speaks or understands Russian.”
“That will not embarrass me in the least,” said
(75) Lady Carlotta coldly.
Mrs. Quabarl, to use a colloquial expression, was
knocked off her perch. She was one of those
imperfectly self-assured individuals who are
magnificent and autocratic as long as they are not
(80) seriously opposed. The least show of unexpected
resistance goes a long way towards rendering them
cowed and apologetic. When the new governess
failed to express wondering admiration of the large
newly-purchased and expensive car, and lightly
(85) alluded to the superior advantages of one or two
makes which had just been put on the market, the
discomfiture of her patroness became almost abject.
Her feelings were those which might have animated a
general of ancient warfaring days, on beholding his
(90) heaviest battle-elephant ignominiously driven off the
field by slingers and javelin throwers.
Q. The description of how Lady Carlotta “put the doctrine of non-interference into practice” (lines 14-15) mainly serves to
Question based on the following passage.
This passage is adapted from Saki, “The Schartz-Metterklume Method.” Originally published in 1911.
Lady Carlotta stepped out on to the platform of
the small wayside station and took a turn or two up
and down its uninteresting length, to kill time till the
train should be pleased to proceed on its way. Then,
(5) in the roadway beyond, she saw a horse struggling
with a more than ample load, and a carter of the sort
that seems to bear a sullen hatred against the animal
that helps him to earn a living. Lady Carlotta
promptly betook her to the roadway, and put rather a
(10) different complexion on the struggle. Certain of her
acquaintances were wont to give her plentiful
admonition as to the undesirability of interfering on
behalf of a distressed animal, such interference being
“none of her business.” Only once had she put the
(15) doctrine of non-interference into practice, when one
of its most eloquent exponents had been besieged for
nearly three hours in a small and extremely
uncomfortable may-tree by an angry boar-pig, while
Lady Carlotta, on the other side of the fence, had
(20) proceeded with the water-colour sketch she was
engaged on, and refused to interfere between the
boar and his prisoner. It is to be feared that she lost
the friendship of the ultimately rescued lady. On this
occasion she merely lost the train, which gave way to
(25) the first sign of impatience it had shown throughout
the journey, and steamed off without her. She bore
the desertion with philosophical indifference; her
friends and relations were thoroughly well used to
the fact of her luggage arriving without her.
(30) She wired a vague non-committal message to her
destination to say that she was coming on “by
another train.” Before she had time to think what her
next move might be she was confronted by an
imposingly attired lady, who seemed to be taking a
(35) prolonged mental inventory of her clothes and looks.
“You must be Miss Hope, the governess I’ve come
to meet,” said the apparition, in a tone that admitted
of very little argument.
“Very well, if I must I must,” said Lady Carlotta to
(40) herself with dangerous meekness.
“I am Mrs. Quabarl,” continued the lady; “and
where, pray, is your luggage?”
“It’s gone astray,” said the alleged governess,
falling in with the excellent rule of life that the absent
(45) are always to blame; the luggage had, in point of fact,
behaved with perfect correctitude. “I’ve just
telegraphed about it,” she added, with a nearer
approach to truth.
“How provoking,” said Mrs. Quabarl; “these
(50) railway companies are so careless. However, my
maid can lend you things for the night,” and she led
the way to her car.
During the drive to the Quabarl mansion
Lady Carlotta was impressively introduced to the
(55) nature of the charge that had been thrust upon her;
she learned that Claude and Wilfrid were delicate,
sensitive young people, that Irene had the artistic
temperament highly developed, and that Viola was
something or other else of a mould equally
(60) commonplace among children of that class and type
in the twentieth century.
“I wish them not only to be TAUGHT,” said Mrs.
Quabarl, “but INTERESTED in what they learn. In
their history lessons, for instance, you must try to
(65) make them feel that they are being introduced to the
life-stories of men and women who really lived, not
merely committing a mass of names and dates to
memory. French, of course, I shall expect you to talk
at meal-times several days in the week.”
(70) “I shall talk French four days of the week and
Russian in the remaining three.”
“Russian? My dear Miss Hope, no one in the
house speaks or understands Russian.”
“That will not embarrass me in the least,” said
(75) Lady Carlotta coldly.
Mrs. Quabarl, to use a colloquial expression, was
knocked off her perch. She was one of those
imperfectly self-assured individuals who are
magnificent and autocratic as long as they are not
(80) seriously opposed. The least show of unexpected
resistance goes a long way towards rendering them
cowed and apologetic. When the new governess
failed to express wondering admiration of the large
newly-purchased and expensive car, and lightly
(85) alluded to the superior advantages of one or two
makes which had just been put on the market, the
discomfiture of her patroness became almost abject.
Her feelings were those which might have animated a
general of ancient warfaring days, on beholding his
(90) heaviest battle-elephant ignominiously driven off the
field by slingers and javelin throwers.
Q. In line 55, “charge” most nearly means
Question based on the following passage.
This passage is adapted from Saki, “The Schartz-Metterklume Method.” Originally published in 1911.
Lady Carlotta stepped out on to the platform of
the small wayside station and took a turn or two up
and down its uninteresting length, to kill time till the
train should be pleased to proceed on its way. Then,
(5) in the roadway beyond, she saw a horse struggling
with a more than ample load, and a carter of the sort
that seems to bear a sullen hatred against the animal
that helps him to earn a living. Lady Carlotta
promptly betook her to the roadway, and put rather a
(10) different complexion on the struggle. Certain of her
acquaintances were wont to give her plentiful
admonition as to the undesirability of interfering on
behalf of a distressed animal, such interference being
“none of her business.” Only once had she put the
(15) doctrine of non-interference into practice, when one
of its most eloquent exponents had been besieged for
nearly three hours in a small and extremely
uncomfortable may-tree by an angry boar-pig, while
Lady Carlotta, on the other side of the fence, had
(20) proceeded with the water-colour sketch she was
engaged on, and refused to interfere between the
boar and his prisoner. It is to be feared that she lost
the friendship of the ultimately rescued lady. On this
occasion she merely lost the train, which gave way to
(25) the first sign of impatience it had shown throughout
the journey, and steamed off without her. She bore
the desertion with philosophical indifference; her
friends and relations were thoroughly well used to
the fact of her luggage arriving without her.
(30) She wired a vague non-committal message to her
destination to say that she was coming on “by
another train.” Before she had time to think what her
next move might be she was confronted by an
imposingly attired lady, who seemed to be taking a
(35) prolonged mental inventory of her clothes and looks.
“You must be Miss Hope, the governess I’ve come
to meet,” said the apparition, in a tone that admitted
of very little argument.
“Very well, if I must I must,” said Lady Carlotta to
(40) herself with dangerous meekness.
“I am Mrs. Quabarl,” continued the lady; “and
where, pray, is your luggage?”
“It’s gone astray,” said the alleged governess,
falling in with the excellent rule of life that the absent
(45) are always to blame; the luggage had, in point of fact,
behaved with perfect correctitude. “I’ve just
telegraphed about it,” she added, with a nearer
approach to truth.
“How provoking,” said Mrs. Quabarl; “these
(50) railway companies are so careless. However, my
maid can lend you things for the night,” and she led
the way to her car.
During the drive to the Quabarl mansion
Lady Carlotta was impressively introduced to the
(55) nature of the charge that had been thrust upon her;
she learned that Claude and Wilfrid were delicate,
sensitive young people, that Irene had the artistic
temperament highly developed, and that Viola was
something or other else of a mould equally
(60) commonplace among children of that class and type
in the twentieth century.
“I wish them not only to be TAUGHT,” said Mrs.
Quabarl, “but INTERESTED in what they learn. In
their history lessons, for instance, you must try to
(65) make them feel that they are being introduced to the
life-stories of men and women who really lived, not
merely committing a mass of names and dates to
memory. French, of course, I shall expect you to talk
at meal-times several days in the week.”
(70) “I shall talk French four days of the week and
Russian in the remaining three.”
“Russian? My dear Miss Hope, no one in the
house speaks or understands Russian.”
“That will not embarrass me in the least,” said
(75) Lady Carlotta coldly.
Mrs. Quabarl, to use a colloquial expression, was
knocked off her perch. She was one of those
imperfectly self-assured individuals who are
magnificent and autocratic as long as they are not
(80) seriously opposed. The least show of unexpected
resistance goes a long way towards rendering them
cowed and apologetic. When the new governess
failed to express wondering admiration of the large
newly-purchased and expensive car, and lightly
(85) alluded to the superior advantages of one or two
makes which had just been put on the market, the
discomfiture of her patroness became almost abject.
Her feelings were those which might have animated a
general of ancient warfaring days, on beholding his
(90) heaviest battle-elephant ignominiously driven off the
field by slingers and javelin throwers.
Q. The narrator indicates that Claude, Wilfrid, Irene, and Viola are
Question based on the following passage.
This passage is adapted from Saki, “The Schartz-Metterklume Method.” Originally published in 1911.
Lady Carlotta stepped out on to the platform of
the small wayside station and took a turn or two up
and down its uninteresting length, to kill time till the
train should be pleased to proceed on its way. Then,
(5) in the roadway beyond, she saw a horse struggling
with a more than ample load, and a carter of the sort
that seems to bear a sullen hatred against the animal
that helps him to earn a living. Lady Carlotta
promptly betook her to the roadway, and put rather a
(10) different complexion on the struggle. Certain of her
acquaintances were wont to give her plentiful
admonition as to the undesirability of interfering on
behalf of a distressed animal, such interference being
“none of her business.” Only once had she put the
(15) doctrine of non-interference into practice, when one
of its most eloquent exponents had been besieged for
nearly three hours in a small and extremely
uncomfortable may-tree by an angry boar-pig, while
Lady Carlotta, on the other side of the fence, had
(20) proceeded with the water-colour sketch she was
engaged on, and refused to interfere between the
boar and his prisoner. It is to be feared that she lost
the friendship of the ultimately rescued lady. On this
occasion she merely lost the train, which gave way to
(25) the first sign of impatience it had shown throughout
the journey, and steamed off without her. She bore
the desertion with philosophical indifference; her
friends and relations were thoroughly well used to
the fact of her luggage arriving without her.
(30) She wired a vague non-committal message to her
destination to say that she was coming on “by
another train.” Before she had time to think what her
next move might be she was confronted by an
imposingly attired lady, who seemed to be taking a
(35) prolonged mental inventory of her clothes and looks.
“You must be Miss Hope, the governess I’ve come
to meet,” said the apparition, in a tone that admitted
of very little argument.
“Very well, if I must I must,” said Lady Carlotta to
(40) herself with dangerous meekness.
“I am Mrs. Quabarl,” continued the lady; “and
where, pray, is your luggage?”
“It’s gone astray,” said the alleged governess,
falling in with the excellent rule of life that the absent
(45) are always to blame; the luggage had, in point of fact,
behaved with perfect correctitude. “I’ve just
telegraphed about it,” she added, with a nearer
approach to truth.
“How provoking,” said Mrs. Quabarl; “these
(50) railway companies are so careless. However, my
maid can lend you things for the night,” and she led
the way to her car.
During the drive to the Quabarl mansion
Lady Carlotta was impressively introduced to the
(55) nature of the charge that had been thrust upon her;
she learned that Claude and Wilfrid were delicate,
sensitive young people, that Irene had the artistic
temperament highly developed, and that Viola was
something or other else of a mould equally
(60) commonplace among children of that class and type
in the twentieth century.
“I wish them not only to be TAUGHT,” said Mrs.
Quabarl, “but INTERESTED in what they learn. In
their history lessons, for instance, you must try to
(65) make them feel that they are being introduced to the
life-stories of men and women who really lived, not
merely committing a mass of names and dates to
memory. French, of course, I shall expect you to talk
at meal-times several days in the week.”
(70) “I shall talk French four days of the week and
Russian in the remaining three.”
“Russian? My dear Miss Hope, no one in the
house speaks or understands Russian.”
“That will not embarrass me in the least,” said
(75) Lady Carlotta coldly.
Mrs. Quabarl, to use a colloquial expression, was
knocked off her perch. She was one of those
imperfectly self-assured individuals who are
magnificent and autocratic as long as they are not
(80) seriously opposed. The least show of unexpected
resistance goes a long way towards rendering them
cowed and apologetic. When the new governess
failed to express wondering admiration of the large
newly-purchased and expensive car, and lightly
(85) alluded to the superior advantages of one or two
makes which had just been put on the market, the
discomfiture of her patroness became almost abject.
Her feelings were those which might have animated a
general of ancient warfaring days, on beholding his
(90) heaviest battle-elephant ignominiously driven off the
field by slingers and javelin throwers.
Q. The narrator implies that Mrs. Quabarl favors a form of education that emphasizes
Question based on the following passage.
This passage is adapted from Saki, “The Schartz-Metterklume Method.” Originally published in 1911.
Lady Carlotta stepped out on to the platform of
the small wayside station and took a turn or two up
and down its uninteresting length, to kill time till the
train should be pleased to proceed on its way. Then,
(5) in the roadway beyond, she saw a horse struggling
with a more than ample load, and a carter of the sort
that seems to bear a sullen hatred against the animal
that helps him to earn a living. Lady Carlotta
promptly betook her to the roadway, and put rather a
(10) different complexion on the struggle. Certain of her
acquaintances were wont to give her plentiful
admonition as to the undesirability of interfering on
behalf of a distressed animal, such interference being
“none of her business.” Only once had she put the
(15) doctrine of non-interference into practice, when one
of its most eloquent exponents had been besieged for
nearly three hours in a small and extremely
uncomfortable may-tree by an angry boar-pig, while
Lady Carlotta, on the other side of the fence, had
(20) proceeded with the water-colour sketch she was
engaged on, and refused to interfere between the
boar and his prisoner. It is to be feared that she lost
the friendship of the ultimately rescued lady. On this
occasion she merely lost the train, which gave way to
(25) the first sign of impatience it had shown throughout
the journey, and steamed off without her. She bore
the desertion with philosophical indifference; her
friends and relations were thoroughly well used to
the fact of her luggage arriving without her.
(30) She wired a vague non-committal message to her
destination to say that she was coming on “by
another train.” Before she had time to think what her
next move might be she was confronted by an
imposingly attired lady, who seemed to be taking a
(35) prolonged mental inventory of her clothes and looks.
“You must be Miss Hope, the governess I’ve come
to meet,” said the apparition, in a tone that admitted
of very little argument.
“Very well, if I must I must,” said Lady Carlotta to
(40) herself with dangerous meekness.
“I am Mrs. Quabarl,” continued the lady; “and
where, pray, is your luggage?”
“It’s gone astray,” said the alleged governess,
falling in with the excellent rule of life that the absent
(45) are always to blame; the luggage had, in point of fact,
behaved with perfect correctitude. “I’ve just
telegraphed about it,” she added, with a nearer
approach to truth.
“How provoking,” said Mrs. Quabarl; “these
(50) railway companies are so careless. However, my
maid can lend you things for the night,” and she led
the way to her car.
During the drive to the Quabarl mansion
Lady Carlotta was impressively introduced to the
(55) nature of the charge that had been thrust upon her;
she learned that Claude and Wilfrid were delicate,
sensitive young people, that Irene had the artistic
temperament highly developed, and that Viola was
something or other else of a mould equally
(60) commonplace among children of that class and type
in the twentieth century.
“I wish them not only to be TAUGHT,” said Mrs.
Quabarl, “but INTERESTED in what they learn. In
their history lessons, for instance, you must try to
(65) make them feel that they are being introduced to the
life-stories of men and women who really lived, not
merely committing a mass of names and dates to
memory. French, of course, I shall expect you to talk
at meal-times several days in the week.”
(70) “I shall talk French four days of the week and
Russian in the remaining three.”
“Russian? My dear Miss Hope, no one in the
house speaks or understands Russian.”
“That will not embarrass me in the least,” said
(75) Lady Carlotta coldly.
Mrs. Quabarl, to use a colloquial expression, was
knocked off her perch. She was one of those
imperfectly self-assured individuals who are
magnificent and autocratic as long as they are not
(80) seriously opposed. The least show of unexpected
resistance goes a long way towards rendering them
cowed and apologetic. When the new governess
failed to express wondering admiration of the large
newly-purchased and expensive car, and lightly
(85) alluded to the superior advantages of one or two
makes which had just been put on the market, the
discomfiture of her patroness became almost abject.
Her feelings were those which might have animated a
general of ancient warfaring days, on beholding his
(90) heaviest battle-elephant ignominiously driven off the
field by slingers and javelin throwers.
Q. As presented in the passage, Mrs. Quabarl is best described as
Question based on the following passage.
This passage is adapted from Saki, “The Schartz-Metterklume Method.” Originally published in 1911.
Lady Carlotta stepped out on to the platform of
the small wayside station and took a turn or two up
and down its uninteresting length, to kill time till the
train should be pleased to proceed on its way. Then,
(5) in the roadway beyond, she saw a horse struggling
with a more than ample load, and a carter of the sort
that seems to bear a sullen hatred against the animal
that helps him to earn a living. Lady Carlotta
promptly betook her to the roadway, and put rather a
(10) different complexion on the struggle. Certain of her
acquaintances were wont to give her plentiful
admonition as to the undesirability of interfering on
behalf of a distressed animal, such interference being
“none of her business.” Only once had she put the
(15) doctrine of non-interference into practice, when one
of its most eloquent exponents had been besieged for
nearly three hours in a small and extremely
uncomfortable may-tree by an angry boar-pig, while
Lady Carlotta, on the other side of the fence, had
(20) proceeded with the water-colour sketch she was
engaged on, and refused to interfere between the
boar and his prisoner. It is to be feared that she lost
the friendship of the ultimately rescued lady. On this
occasion she merely lost the train, which gave way to
(25) the first sign of impatience it had shown throughout
the journey, and steamed off without her. She bore
the desertion with philosophical indifference; her
friends and relations were thoroughly well used to
the fact of her luggage arriving without her.
(30) She wired a vague non-committal message to her
destination to say that she was coming on “by
another train.” Before she had time to think what her
next move might be she was confronted by an
imposingly attired lady, who seemed to be taking a
(35) prolonged mental inventory of her clothes and looks.
“You must be Miss Hope, the governess I’ve come
to meet,” said the apparition, in a tone that admitted
of very little argument.
“Very well, if I must I must,” said Lady Carlotta to
(40) herself with dangerous meekness.
“I am Mrs. Quabarl,” continued the lady; “and
where, pray, is your luggage?”
“It’s gone astray,” said the alleged governess,
falling in with the excellent rule of life that the absent
(45) are always to blame; the luggage had, in point of fact,
behaved with perfect correctitude. “I’ve just
telegraphed about it,” she added, with a nearer
approach to truth.
“How provoking,” said Mrs. Quabarl; “these
(50) railway companies are so careless. However, my
maid can lend you things for the night,” and she led
the way to her car.
During the drive to the Quabarl mansion
Lady Carlotta was impressively introduced to the
(55) nature of the charge that had been thrust upon her;
she learned that Claude and Wilfrid were delicate,
sensitive young people, that Irene had the artistic
temperament highly developed, and that Viola was
something or other else of a mould equally
(60) commonplace among children of that class and type
in the twentieth century.
“I wish them not only to be TAUGHT,” said Mrs.
Quabarl, “but INTERESTED in what they learn. In
their history lessons, for instance, you must try to
(65) make them feel that they are being introduced to the
life-stories of men and women who really lived, not
merely committing a mass of names and dates to
memory. French, of course, I shall expect you to talk
at meal-times several days in the week.”
(70) “I shall talk French four days of the week and
Russian in the remaining three.”
“Russian? My dear Miss Hope, no one in the
house speaks or understands Russian.”
“That will not embarrass me in the least,” said
(75) Lady Carlotta coldly.
Mrs. Quabarl, to use a colloquial expression, was
knocked off her perch. She was one of those
imperfectly self-assured individuals who are
magnificent and autocratic as long as they are not
(80) seriously opposed. The least show of unexpected
resistance goes a long way towards rendering them
cowed and apologetic. When the new governess
failed to express wondering admiration of the large
newly-purchased and expensive car, and lightly
(85) alluded to the superior advantages of one or two
makes which had just been put on the market, the
discomfiture of her patroness became almost abject.
Her feelings were those which might have animated a
general of ancient warfaring days, on beholding his
(90) heaviest battle-elephant ignominiously driven off the
field by slingers and javelin throwers.
Q. Which choice provides the best evidence for the answer to the previous question?
Question based on the following passage and supplementary material.
This passage is adapted from Taras Grescoe, Straphanger: Saving Our Cities and Ourselves from the Automobile. ©2012 by Taras Grescoe.
Though there are 600 million cars on the planet,
and counting, there are also seven billion people,
which means that for the vast majority of us getting
around involves taking buses, ferryboats, commuter
(5) trains, streetcars, and subways. In other words,
traveling to work, school, or the market means being
a straphanger: somebody who, by choice or necessity,
relies on public transport, rather than a privately
owned automobile.
(10) Half the population of New York, Toronto, and
London do not own cars. Public transport is how
most of the people of Asia and Africa, the world’s
most populous continents, travel. Every day, subway
systems carry 155 million passengers, thirty-four
(15) times the number carried by all the world’s airplanes,
and the global public transport market is now valued
at $428 billion annually. A century and a half after
the invention of the internal combustion engine,
private car ownership is still an anomaly.
(20) And yet public transportation, in many minds, is
the opposite of glamour—a squalid last resort for
those with one too many impaired driving charges,
too poor to afford insurance, or too decrepit to get
behind the wheel of a car. In much of North
(25) America, they are right: taking transit is a depressing
experience. Anybody who has waited far too long on
a street corner for the privilege of boarding a
lurching, overcrowded bus, or wrestled luggage onto
subways and shuttles to get to a big city airport,
(30) knows that transit on this continent tends to be
underfunded, ill-maintained, and ill-planned. Given
the opportunity, who wouldn’t drive? Hopping in a
car almost always gets you to your destination more
quickly.
(35) It doesn’t have to be like this. Done right, public
transport can be faster, more comfortable, and
cheaper than the private automobile. In Shanghai,
German-made magnetic levitation trains skim over
elevated tracks at 266 miles an hour, whisking people
(40) to the airport at a third of the speed of sound. In
provincial French towns, electric-powered streetcars
run silently on rubber tires, sliding through narrow
streets along a single guide rail set into cobblestones.
From Spain to Sweden, Wi-Fi equipped high-speed
(45) trains seamlessly connect with highly ramified metro
networks, allowing commuters to work on laptops as
they prepare for same-day meetings in once distant
capital cities. In Latin America, China, and India,
working people board fast-loading buses that move
(50) like subway trains along dedicated busways, leaving
the sedans and SUVs of the rich mired in
dawn-to-dusk traffic jams. And some cities have
transformed their streets into cycle-path freeways,
making giant strides in public health and safety and
(55) the sheer livability of their neighborhoods—in the
process turning the workaday bicycle into a viable
form of mass transit.
If you credit the demographers, this transit trend
has legs. The “Millenials,” who reached adulthood
(60) around the turn of the century and now outnumber
baby boomers, tend to favor cities over suburbs, and
are far more willing than their parents to ride buses
and subways. Part of the reason is their ease with
iPads, MP3 players, Kindles, and smartphones: you
(65) can get some serious texting done when you’re not
driving, and earbuds offer effective insulation from
all but the most extreme commuting annoyances.
Even though there are more teenagers in the country
than ever, only ten million have a driver’s license
(70) (versus twelve million a generation ago). Baby
boomers may have been raised in Leave It to Beaver
suburbs, but as they retire, a significant contingent is
favoring older cities and compact towns where they
have the option of walking and riding bikes. Seniors,
(75) too, are more likely to use transit, and by 2025, there
will be 64 million Americans over the age of
sixty-five. Already, dwellings in older neighborhoods
in Washington, D.C., Atlanta, and Denver, especially
those near light-rail or subway stations, are
(80) commanding enormous price premiums over
suburban homes. The experience of European and
Asian cities shows that if you make buses, subways,
and trains convenient, comfortable, fast, and safe, a
surprisingly large percentage of citizens will opt to
(85) ride rather than drive.
Q. What function does the third paragraph (lines 20-34) serve in the passage as a whole?
Question based on the following passage and supplementary material.
This passage is adapted from Taras Grescoe, Straphanger: Saving Our Cities and Ourselves from the Automobile. ©2012 by Taras Grescoe.
Though there are 600 million cars on the planet,
and counting, there are also seven billion people,
which means that for the vast majority of us getting
around involves taking buses, ferryboats, commuter
(5) trains, streetcars, and subways. In other words,
traveling to work, school, or the market means being
a straphanger: somebody who, by choice or necessity,
relies on public transport, rather than a privately
owned automobile.
(10) Half the population of New York, Toronto, and
London do not own cars. Public transport is how
most of the people of Asia and Africa, the world’s
most populous continents, travel. Every day, subway
systems carry 155 million passengers, thirty-four
(15) times the number carried by all the world’s airplanes,
and the global public transport market is now valued
at $428 billion annually. A century and a half after
the invention of the internal combustion engine,
private car ownership is still an anomaly.
(20) And yet public transportation, in many minds, is
the opposite of glamour—a squalid last resort for
those with one too many impaired driving charges,
too poor to afford insurance, or too decrepit to get
behind the wheel of a car. In much of North
(25) America, they are right: taking transit is a depressing
experience. Anybody who has waited far too long on
a street corner for the privilege of boarding a
lurching, overcrowded bus, or wrestled luggage onto
subways and shuttles to get to a big city airport,
(30) knows that transit on this continent tends to be
underfunded, ill-maintained, and ill-planned. Given
the opportunity, who wouldn’t drive? Hopping in a
car almost always gets you to your destination more
quickly.
(35) It doesn’t have to be like this. Done right, public
transport can be faster, more comfortable, and
cheaper than the private automobile. In Shanghai,
German-made magnetic levitation trains skim over
elevated tracks at 266 miles an hour, whisking people
(40) to the airport at a third of the speed of sound. In
provincial French towns, electric-powered streetcars
run silently on rubber tires, sliding through narrow
streets along a single guide rail set into cobblestones.
From Spain to Sweden, Wi-Fi equipped high-speed
(45) trains seamlessly connect with highly ramified metro
networks, allowing commuters to work on laptops as
they prepare for same-day meetings in once distant
capital cities. In Latin America, China, and India,
working people board fast-loading buses that move
(50) like subway trains along dedicated busways, leaving
the sedans and SUVs of the rich mired in
dawn-to-dusk traffic jams. And some cities have
transformed their streets into cycle-path freeways,
making giant strides in public health and safety and
(55) the sheer livability of their neighborhoods—in the
process turning the workaday bicycle into a viable
form of mass transit.
If you credit the demographers, this transit trend
has legs. The “Millenials,” who reached adulthood
(60) around the turn of the century and now outnumber
baby boomers, tend to favor cities over suburbs, and
are far more willing than their parents to ride buses
and subways. Part of the reason is their ease with
iPads, MP3 players, Kindles, and smartphones: you
(65) can get some serious texting done when you’re not
driving, and earbuds offer effective insulation from
all but the most extreme commuting annoyances.
Even though there are more teenagers in the country
than ever, only ten million have a driver’s license
(70) (versus twelve million a generation ago). Baby
boomers may have been raised in Leave It to Beaver
suburbs, but as they retire, a significant contingent is
favoring older cities and compact towns where they
have the option of walking and riding bikes. Seniors,
(75) too, are more likely to use transit, and by 2025, there
will be 64 million Americans over the age of
sixty-five. Already, dwellings in older neighborhoods
in Washington, D.C., Atlanta, and Denver, especially
those near light-rail or subway stations, are
(80) commanding enormous price premiums over
suburban homes. The experience of European and
Asian cities shows that if you make buses, subways,
and trains convenient, comfortable, fast, and safe, a
surprisingly large percentage of citizens will opt to
(85) ride rather than drive.
Q. Which choice does the author explicitly cite as an advantage of automobile travel in North America?
Question based on the following passage and supplementary material.
This passage is adapted from Taras Grescoe, Straphanger: Saving Our Cities and Ourselves from the Automobile. ©2012 by Taras Grescoe.
Though there are 600 million cars on the planet,
and counting, there are also seven billion people,
which means that for the vast majority of us getting
around involves taking buses, ferryboats, commuter
(5) trains, streetcars, and subways. In other words,
traveling to work, school, or the market means being
a straphanger: somebody who, by choice or necessity,
relies on public transport, rather than a privately
owned automobile.
(10) Half the population of New York, Toronto, and
London do not own cars. Public transport is how
most of the people of Asia and Africa, the world’s
most populous continents, travel. Every day, subway
systems carry 155 million passengers, thirty-four
(15) times the number carried by all the world’s airplanes,
and the global public transport market is now valued
at $428 billion annually. A century and a half after
the invention of the internal combustion engine,
private car ownership is still an anomaly.
(20) And yet public transportation, in many minds, is
the opposite of glamour—a squalid last resort for
those with one too many impaired driving charges,
too poor to afford insurance, or too decrepit to get
behind the wheel of a car. In much of North
(25) America, they are right: taking transit is a depressing
experience. Anybody who has waited far too long on
a street corner for the privilege of boarding a
lurching, overcrowded bus, or wrestled luggage onto
subways and shuttles to get to a big city airport,
(30) knows that transit on this continent tends to be
underfunded, ill-maintained, and ill-planned. Given
the opportunity, who wouldn’t drive? Hopping in a
car almost always gets you to your destination more
quickly.
(35) It doesn’t have to be like this. Done right, public
transport can be faster, more comfortable, and
cheaper than the private automobile. In Shanghai,
German-made magnetic levitation trains skim over
elevated tracks at 266 miles an hour, whisking people
(40) to the airport at a third of the speed of sound. In
provincial French towns, electric-powered streetcars
run silently on rubber tires, sliding through narrow
streets along a single guide rail set into cobblestones.
From Spain to Sweden, Wi-Fi equipped high-speed
(45) trains seamlessly connect with highly ramified metro
networks, allowing commuters to work on laptops as
they prepare for same-day meetings in once distant
capital cities. In Latin America, China, and India,
working people board fast-loading buses that move
(50) like subway trains along dedicated busways, leaving
the sedans and SUVs of the rich mired in
dawn-to-dusk traffic jams. And some cities have
transformed their streets into cycle-path freeways,
making giant strides in public health and safety and
(55) the sheer livability of their neighborhoods—in the
process turning the workaday bicycle into a viable
form of mass transit.
If you credit the demographers, this transit trend
has legs. The “Millenials,” who reached adulthood
(60) around the turn of the century and now outnumber
baby boomers, tend to favor cities over suburbs, and
are far more willing than their parents to ride buses
and subways. Part of the reason is their ease with
iPads, MP3 players, Kindles, and smartphones: you
(65) can get some serious texting done when you’re not
driving, and earbuds offer effective insulation from
all but the most extreme commuting annoyances.
Even though there are more teenagers in the country
than ever, only ten million have a driver’s license
(70) (versus twelve million a generation ago). Baby
boomers may have been raised in Leave It to Beaver
suburbs, but as they retire, a significant contingent is
favoring older cities and compact towns where they
have the option of walking and riding bikes. Seniors,
(75) too, are more likely to use transit, and by 2025, there
will be 64 million Americans over the age of
sixty-five. Already, dwellings in older neighborhoods
in Washington, D.C., Atlanta, and Denver, especially
those near light-rail or subway stations, are
(80) commanding enormous price premiums over
suburban homes. The experience of European and
Asian cities shows that if you make buses, subways,
and trains convenient, comfortable, fast, and safe, a
surprisingly large percentage of citizens will opt to
(85) ride rather than drive.
Q. Which choice provides the best evidence for the answer to the previous question?
Question based on the following passage and supplementary material.
This passage is adapted from Taras Grescoe, Straphanger: Saving Our Cities and Ourselves from the Automobile. ©2012 by Taras Grescoe.
Though there are 600 million cars on the planet,
and counting, there are also seven billion people,
which means that for the vast majority of us getting
around involves taking buses, ferryboats, commuter
(5) trains, streetcars, and subways. In other words,
traveling to work, school, or the market means being
a straphanger: somebody who, by choice or necessity,
relies on public transport, rather than a privately
owned automobile.
(10) Half the population of New York, Toronto, and
London do not own cars. Public transport is how
most of the people of Asia and Africa, the world’s
most populous continents, travel. Every day, subway
systems carry 155 million passengers, thirty-four
(15) times the number carried by all the world’s airplanes,
and the global public transport market is now valued
at $428 billion annually. A century and a half after
the invention of the internal combustion engine,
private car ownership is still an anomaly.
(20) And yet public transportation, in many minds, is
the opposite of glamour—a squalid last resort for
those with one too many impaired driving charges,
too poor to afford insurance, or too decrepit to get
behind the wheel of a car. In much of North
(25) America, they are right: taking transit is a depressing
experience. Anybody who has waited far too long on
a street corner for the privilege of boarding a
lurching, overcrowded bus, or wrestled luggage onto
subways and shuttles to get to a big city airport,
(30) knows that transit on this continent tends to be
underfunded, ill-maintained, and ill-planned. Given
the opportunity, who wouldn’t drive? Hopping in a
car almost always gets you to your destination more
quickly.
(35) It doesn’t have to be like this. Done right, public
transport can be faster, more comfortable, and
cheaper than the private automobile. In Shanghai,
German-made magnetic levitation trains skim over
elevated tracks at 266 miles an hour, whisking people
(40) to the airport at a third of the speed of sound. In
provincial French towns, electric-powered streetcars
run silently on rubber tires, sliding through narrow
streets along a single guide rail set into cobblestones.
From Spain to Sweden, Wi-Fi equipped high-speed
(45) trains seamlessly connect with highly ramified metro
networks, allowing commuters to work on laptops as
they prepare for same-day meetings in once distant
capital cities. In Latin America, China, and India,
working people board fast-loading buses that move
(50) like subway trains along dedicated busways, leaving
the sedans and SUVs of the rich mired in
dawn-to-dusk traffic jams. And some cities have
transformed their streets into cycle-path freeways,
making giant strides in public health and safety and
(55) the sheer livability of their neighborhoods—in the
process turning the workaday bicycle into a viable
form of mass transit.
If you credit the demographers, this transit trend
has legs. The “Millenials,” who reached adulthood
(60) around the turn of the century and now outnumber
baby boomers, tend to favor cities over suburbs, and
are far more willing than their parents to ride buses
and subways. Part of the reason is their ease with
iPads, MP3 players, Kindles, and smartphones: you
(65) can get some serious texting done when you’re not
driving, and earbuds offer effective insulation from
all but the most extreme commuting annoyances.
Even though there are more teenagers in the country
than ever, only ten million have a driver’s license
(70) (versus twelve million a generation ago). Baby
boomers may have been raised in Leave It to Beaver
suburbs, but as they retire, a significant contingent is
favoring older cities and compact towns where they
have the option of walking and riding bikes. Seniors,
(75) too, are more likely to use transit, and by 2025, there
will be 64 million Americans over the age of
sixty-five. Already, dwellings in older neighborhoods
in Washington, D.C., Atlanta, and Denver, especially
those near light-rail or subway stations, are
(80) commanding enormous price premiums over
suburban homes. The experience of European and
Asian cities shows that if you make buses, subways,
and trains convenient, comfortable, fast, and safe, a
surprisingly large percentage of citizens will opt to
(85) ride rather than drive.
Q. The central idea of the fourth paragraph (lines 35-57) is that
Question based on the following passage and supplementary material.
This passage is adapted from Taras Grescoe, Straphanger: Saving Our Cities and Ourselves from the Automobile. ©2012 by Taras Grescoe.
Though there are 600 million cars on the planet,
and counting, there are also seven billion people,
which means that for the vast majority of us getting
around involves taking buses, ferryboats, commuter
(5) trains, streetcars, and subways. In other words,
traveling to work, school, or the market means being
a straphanger: somebody who, by choice or necessity,
relies on public transport, rather than a privately
owned automobile.
(10) Half the population of New York, Toronto, and
London do not own cars. Public transport is how
most of the people of Asia and Africa, the world’s
most populous continents, travel. Every day, subway
systems carry 155 million passengers, thirty-four
(15) times the number carried by all the world’s airplanes,
and the global public transport market is now valued
at $428 billion annually. A century and a half after
the invention of the internal combustion engine,
private car ownership is still an anomaly.
(20) And yet public transportation, in many minds, is
the opposite of glamour—a squalid last resort for
those with one too many impaired driving charges,
too poor to afford insurance, or too decrepit to get
behind the wheel of a car. In much of North
(25) America, they are right: taking transit is a depressing
experience. Anybody who has waited far too long on
a street corner for the privilege of boarding a
lurching, overcrowded bus, or wrestled luggage onto
subways and shuttles to get to a big city airport,
(30) knows that transit on this continent tends to be
underfunded, ill-maintained, and ill-planned. Given
the opportunity, who wouldn’t drive? Hopping in a
car almost always gets you to your destination more
quickly.
(35) It doesn’t have to be like this. Done right, public
transport can be faster, more comfortable, and
cheaper than the private automobile. In Shanghai,
German-made magnetic levitation trains skim over
elevated tracks at 266 miles an hour, whisking people
(40) to the airport at a third of the speed of sound. In
provincial French towns, electric-powered streetcars
run silently on rubber tires, sliding through narrow
streets along a single guide rail set into cobblestones.
From Spain to Sweden, Wi-Fi equipped high-speed
(45) trains seamlessly connect with highly ramified metro
networks, allowing commuters to work on laptops as
they prepare for same-day meetings in once distant
capital cities. In Latin America, China, and India,
working people board fast-loading buses that move
(50) like subway trains along dedicated busways, leaving
the sedans and SUVs of the rich mired in
dawn-to-dusk traffic jams. And some cities have
transformed their streets into cycle-path freeways,
making giant strides in public health and safety and
(55) the sheer livability of their neighborhoods—in the
process turning the workaday bicycle into a viable
form of mass transit.
If you credit the demographers, this transit trend
has legs. The “Millenials,” who reached adulthood
(60) around the turn of the century and now outnumber
baby boomers, tend to favor cities over suburbs, and
are far more willing than their parents to ride buses
and subways. Part of the reason is their ease with
iPads, MP3 players, Kindles, and smartphones: you
(65) can get some serious texting done when you’re not
driving, and earbuds offer effective insulation from
all but the most extreme commuting annoyances.
Even though there are more teenagers in the country
than ever, only ten million have a driver’s license
(70) (versus twelve million a generation ago). Baby
boomers may have been raised in Leave It to Beaver
suburbs, but as they retire, a significant contingent is
favoring older cities and compact towns where they
have the option of walking and riding bikes. Seniors,
(75) too, are more likely to use transit, and by 2025, there
will be 64 million Americans over the age of
sixty-five. Already, dwellings in older neighborhoods
in Washington, D.C., Atlanta, and Denver, especially
those near light-rail or subway stations, are
(80) commanding enormous price premiums over
suburban homes. The experience of European and
Asian cities shows that if you make buses, subways,
and trains convenient, comfortable, fast, and safe, a
surprisingly large percentage of citizens will opt to
(85) ride rather than drive.
Q. Which choice provides the best evidence for the answer to the previous question?
Question based on the following passage and supplementary material.
This passage is adapted from Taras Grescoe, Straphanger: Saving Our Cities and Ourselves from the Automobile. ©2012 by Taras Grescoe.
Though there are 600 million cars on the planet,
and counting, there are also seven billion people,
which means that for the vast majority of us getting
around involves taking buses, ferryboats, commuter
(5) trains, streetcars, and subways. In other words,
traveling to work, school, or the market means being
a straphanger: somebody who, by choice or necessity,
relies on public transport, rather than a privately
owned automobile.
(10) Half the population of New York, Toronto, and
London do not own cars. Public transport is how
most of the people of Asia and Africa, the world’s
most populous continents, travel. Every day, subway
systems carry 155 million passengers, thirty-four
(15) times the number carried by all the world’s airplanes,
and the global public transport market is now valued
at $428 billion annually. A century and a half after
the invention of the internal combustion engine,
private car ownership is still an anomaly.
(20) And yet public transportation, in many minds, is
the opposite of glamour—a squalid last resort for
those with one too many impaired driving charges,
too poor to afford insurance, or too decrepit to get
behind the wheel of a car. In much of North
(25) America, they are right: taking transit is a depressing
experience. Anybody who has waited far too long on
a street corner for the privilege of boarding a
lurching, overcrowded bus, or wrestled luggage onto
subways and shuttles to get to a big city airport,
(30) knows that transit on this continent tends to be
underfunded, ill-maintained, and ill-planned. Given
the opportunity, who wouldn’t drive? Hopping in a
car almost always gets you to your destination more
quickly.
(35) It doesn’t have to be like this. Done right, public
transport can be faster, more comfortable, and
cheaper than the private automobile. In Shanghai,
German-made magnetic levitation trains skim over
elevated tracks at 266 miles an hour, whisking people
(40) to the airport at a third of the speed of sound. In
provincial French towns, electric-powered streetcars
run silently on rubber tires, sliding through narrow
streets along a single guide rail set into cobblestones.
From Spain to Sweden, Wi-Fi equipped high-speed
(45) trains seamlessly connect with highly ramified metro
networks, allowing commuters to work on laptops as
they prepare for same-day meetings in once distant
capital cities. In Latin America, China, and India,
working people board fast-loading buses that move
(50) like subway trains along dedicated busways, leaving
the sedans and SUVs of the rich mired in
dawn-to-dusk traffic jams. And some cities have
transformed their streets into cycle-path freeways,
making giant strides in public health and safety and
(55) the sheer livability of their neighborhoods—in the
process turning the workaday bicycle into a viable
form of mass transit.
If you credit the demographers, this transit trend
has legs. The “Millenials,” who reached adulthood
(60) around the turn of the century and now outnumber
baby boomers, tend to favor cities over suburbs, and
are far more willing than their parents to ride buses
and subways. Part of the reason is their ease with
iPads, MP3 players, Kindles, and smartphones: you
(65) can get some serious texting done when you’re not
driving, and earbuds offer effective insulation from
all but the most extreme commuting annoyances.
Even though there are more teenagers in the country
than ever, only ten million have a driver’s license
(70) (versus twelve million a generation ago). Baby
boomers may have been raised in Leave It to Beaver
suburbs, but as they retire, a significant contingent is
favoring older cities and compact towns where they
have the option of walking and riding bikes. Seniors,
(75) too, are more likely to use transit, and by 2025, there
will be 64 million Americans over the age of
sixty-five. Already, dwellings in older neighborhoods
in Washington, D.C., Atlanta, and Denver, especially
those near light-rail or subway stations, are
(80) commanding enormous price premiums over
suburban homes. The experience of European and
Asian cities shows that if you make buses, subways,
and trains convenient, comfortable, fast, and safe, a
surprisingly large percentage of citizens will opt to
(85) ride rather than drive.
Q. As used in line 58, “credit” most nearly means
Question based on the following passage and supplementary material.
This passage is adapted from Taras Grescoe, Straphanger: Saving Our Cities and Ourselves from the Automobile. ©2012 by Taras Grescoe.
Though there are 600 million cars on the planet,
and counting, there are also seven billion people,
which means that for the vast majority of us getting
around involves taking buses, ferryboats, commuter
(5) trains, streetcars, and subways. In other words,
traveling to work, school, or the market means being
a straphanger: somebody who, by choice or necessity,
relies on public transport, rather than a privately
owned automobile.
(10) Half the population of New York, Toronto, and
London do not own cars. Public transport is how
most of the people of Asia and Africa, the world’s
most populous continents, travel. Every day, subway
systems carry 155 million passengers, thirty-four
(15) times the number carried by all the world’s airplanes,
and the global public transport market is now valued
at $428 billion annually. A century and a half after
the invention of the internal combustion engine,
private car ownership is still an anomaly.
(20) And yet public transportation, in many minds, is
the opposite of glamour—a squalid last resort for
those with one too many impaired driving charges,
too poor to afford insurance, or too decrepit to get
behind the wheel of a car. In much of North
(25) America, they are right: taking transit is a depressing
experience. Anybody who has waited far too long on
a street corner for the privilege of boarding a
lurching, overcrowded bus, or wrestled luggage onto
subways and shuttles to get to a big city airport,
(30) knows that transit on this continent tends to be
underfunded, ill-maintained, and ill-planned. Given
the opportunity, who wouldn’t drive? Hopping in a
car almost always gets you to your destination more
quickly.
(35) It doesn’t have to be like this. Done right, public
transport can be faster, more comfortable, and
cheaper than the private automobile. In Shanghai,
German-made magnetic levitation trains skim over
elevated tracks at 266 miles an hour, whisking people
(40) to the airport at a third of the speed of sound. In
provincial French towns, electric-powered streetcars
run silently on rubber tires, sliding through narrow
streets along a single guide rail set into cobblestones.
From Spain to Sweden, Wi-Fi equipped high-speed
(45) trains seamlessly connect with highly ramified metro
networks, allowing commuters to work on laptops as
they prepare for same-day meetings in once distant
capital cities. In Latin America, China, and India,
working people board fast-loading buses that move
(50) like subway trains along dedicated busways, leaving
the sedans and SUVs of the rich mired in
dawn-to-dusk traffic jams. And some cities have
transformed their streets into cycle-path freeways,
making giant strides in public health and safety and
(55) the sheer livability of their neighborhoods—in the
process turning the workaday bicycle into a viable
form of mass transit.
If you credit the demographers, this transit trend
has legs. The “Millenials,” who reached adulthood
(60) around the turn of the century and now outnumber
baby boomers, tend to favor cities over suburbs, and
are far more willing than their parents to ride buses
and subways. Part of the reason is their ease with
iPads, MP3 players, Kindles, and smartphones: you
(65) can get some serious texting done when you’re not
driving, and earbuds offer effective insulation from
all but the most extreme commuting annoyances.
Even though there are more teenagers in the country
than ever, only ten million have a driver’s license
(70) (versus twelve million a generation ago). Baby
boomers may have been raised in Leave It to Beaver
suburbs, but as they retire, a significant contingent is
favoring older cities and compact towns where they
have the option of walking and riding bikes. Seniors,
(75) too, are more likely to use transit, and by 2025, there
will be 64 million Americans over the age of
sixty-five. Already, dwellings in older neighborhoods
in Washington, D.C., Atlanta, and Denver, especially
those near light-rail or subway stations, are
(80) commanding enormous price premiums over
suburban homes. The experience of European and
Asian cities shows that if you make buses, subways,
and trains convenient, comfortable, fast, and safe, a
surprisingly large percentage of citizens will opt to
(85) ride rather than drive.
Q. As used in line 61, “favor” most nearly means
Question based on the following passage and supplementary material.
This passage is adapted from Taras Grescoe, Straphanger: Saving Our Cities and Ourselves from the Automobile. ©2012 by Taras Grescoe.
Though there are 600 million cars on the planet,
and counting, there are also seven billion people,
which means that for the vast majority of us getting
around involves taking buses, ferryboats, commuter
(5) trains, streetcars, and subways. In other words,
traveling to work, school, or the market means being
a straphanger: somebody who, by choice or necessity,
relies on public transport, rather than a privately
owned automobile.
(10) Half the population of New York, Toronto, and
London do not own cars. Public transport is how
most of the people of Asia and Africa, the world’s
most populous continents, travel. Every day, subway
systems carry 155 million passengers, thirty-four
(15) times the number carried by all the world’s airplanes,
and the global public transport market is now valued
at $428 billion annually. A century and a half after
the invention of the internal combustion engine,
private car ownership is still an anomaly.
(20) And yet public transportation, in many minds, is
the opposite of glamour—a squalid last resort for
those with one too many impaired driving charges,
too poor to afford insurance, or too decrepit to get
behind the wheel of a car. In much of North
(25) America, they are right: taking transit is a depressing
experience. Anybody who has waited far too long on
a street corner for the privilege of boarding a
lurching, overcrowded bus, or wrestled luggage onto
subways and shuttles to get to a big city airport,
(30) knows that transit on this continent tends to be
underfunded, ill-maintained, and ill-planned. Given
the opportunity, who wouldn’t drive? Hopping in a
car almost always gets you to your destination more
quickly.
(35) It doesn’t have to be like this. Done right, public
transport can be faster, more comfortable, and
cheaper than the private automobile. In Shanghai,
German-made magnetic levitation trains skim over
elevated tracks at 266 miles an hour, whisking people
(40) to the airport at a third of the speed of sound. In
provincial French towns, electric-powered streetcars
run silently on rubber tires, sliding through narrow
streets along a single guide rail set into cobblestones.
From Spain to Sweden, Wi-Fi equipped high-speed
(45) trains seamlessly connect with highly ramified metro
networks, allowing commuters to work on laptops as
they prepare for same-day meetings in once distant
capital cities. In Latin America, China, and India,
working people board fast-loading buses that move
(50) like subway trains along dedicated busways, leaving
the sedans and SUVs of the rich mired in
dawn-to-dusk traffic jams. And some cities have
transformed their streets into cycle-path freeways,
making giant strides in public health and safety and
(55) the sheer livability of their neighborhoods—in the
process turning the workaday bicycle into a viable
form of mass transit.
If you credit the demographers, this transit trend
has legs. The “Millenials,” who reached adulthood
(60) around the turn of the century and now outnumber
baby boomers, tend to favor cities over suburbs, and
are far more willing than their parents to ride buses
and subways. Part of the reason is their ease with
iPads, MP3 players, Kindles, and smartphones: you
(65) can get some serious texting done when you’re not
driving, and earbuds offer effective insulation from
all but the most extreme commuting annoyances.
Even though there are more teenagers in the country
than ever, only ten million have a driver’s license
(70) (versus twelve million a generation ago). Baby
boomers may have been raised in Leave It to Beaver
suburbs, but as they retire, a significant contingent is
favoring older cities and compact towns where they
have the option of walking and riding bikes. Seniors,
(75) too, are more likely to use transit, and by 2025, there
will be 64 million Americans over the age of
sixty-five. Already, dwellings in older neighborhoods
in Washington, D.C., Atlanta, and Denver, especially
those near light-rail or subway stations, are
(80) commanding enormous price premiums over
suburban homes. The experience of European and
Asian cities shows that if you make buses, subways,
and trains convenient, comfortable, fast, and safe, a
surprisingly large percentage of citizens will opt to
(85) ride rather than drive.
Q. Which choice best supports the conclusion that public transportation is compatible with the use of personal electronic devices?
Question based on the following passage and supplementary material.
This passage is adapted from Taras Grescoe, Straphanger: Saving Our Cities and Ourselves from the Automobile. ©2012 by Taras Grescoe.
Though there are 600 million cars on the planet,
and counting, there are also seven billion people,
which means that for the vast majority of us getting
around involves taking buses, ferryboats, commuter
(5) trains, streetcars, and subways. In other words,
traveling to work, school, or the market means being
a straphanger: somebody who, by choice or necessity,
relies on public transport, rather than a privately
owned automobile.
(10) Half the population of New York, Toronto, and
London do not own cars. Public transport is how
most of the people of Asia and Africa, the world’s
most populous continents, travel. Every day, subway
systems carry 155 million passengers, thirty-four
(15) times the number carried by all the world’s airplanes,
and the global public transport market is now valued
at $428 billion annually. A century and a half after
the invention of the internal combustion engine,
private car ownership is still an anomaly.
(20) And yet public transportation, in many minds, is
the opposite of glamour—a squalid last resort for
those with one too many impaired driving charges,
too poor to afford insurance, or too decrepit to get
behind the wheel of a car. In much of North
(25) America, they are right: taking transit is a depressing
experience. Anybody who has waited far too long on
a street corner for the privilege of boarding a
lurching, overcrowded bus, or wrestled luggage onto
subways and shuttles to get to a big city airport,
(30) knows that transit on this continent tends to be
underfunded, ill-maintained, and ill-planned. Given
the opportunity, who wouldn’t drive? Hopping in a
car almost always gets you to your destination more
quickly.
(35) It doesn’t have to be like this. Done right, public
transport can be faster, more comfortable, and
cheaper than the private automobile. In Shanghai,
German-made magnetic levitation trains skim over
elevated tracks at 266 miles an hour, whisking people
(40) to the airport at a third of the speed of sound. In
provincial French towns, electric-powered streetcars
run silently on rubber tires, sliding through narrow
streets along a single guide rail set into cobblestones.
From Spain to Sweden, Wi-Fi equipped high-speed
(45) trains seamlessly connect with highly ramified metro
networks, allowing commuters to work on laptops as
they prepare for same-day meetings in once distant
capital cities. In Latin America, China, and India,
working people board fast-loading buses that move
(50) like subway trains along dedicated busways, leaving
the sedans and SUVs of the rich mired in
dawn-to-dusk traffic jams. And some cities have
transformed their streets into cycle-path freeways,
making giant strides in public health and safety and
(55) the sheer livability of their neighborhoods—in the
process turning the workaday bicycle into a viable
form of mass transit.
If you credit the demographers, this transit trend
has legs. The “Millenials,” who reached adulthood
(60) around the turn of the century and now outnumber
baby boomers, tend to favor cities over suburbs, and
are far more willing than their parents to ride buses
and subways. Part of the reason is their ease with
iPads, MP3 players, Kindles, and smartphones: you
(65) can get some serious texting done when you’re not
driving, and earbuds offer effective insulation from
all but the most extreme commuting annoyances.
Even though there are more teenagers in the country
than ever, only ten million have a driver’s license
(70) (versus twelve million a generation ago). Baby
boomers may have been raised in Leave It to Beaver
suburbs, but as they retire, a significant contingent is
favoring older cities and compact towns where they
have the option of walking and riding bikes. Seniors,
(75) too, are more likely to use transit, and by 2025, there
will be 64 million Americans over the age of
sixty-five. Already, dwellings in older neighborhoods
in Washington, D.C., Atlanta, and Denver, especially
those near light-rail or subway stations, are
(80) commanding enormous price premiums over
suburban homes. The experience of European and
Asian cities shows that if you make buses, subways,
and trains convenient, comfortable, fast, and safe, a
surprisingly large percentage of citizens will opt to
(85) ride rather than drive.
Q. Which choice is supported by the data in the first figure?
Question based on the following passage and supplementary material.
This passage is adapted from Taras Grescoe, Straphanger: Saving Our Cities and Ourselves from the Automobile. ©2012 by Taras Grescoe.
Though there are 600 million cars on the planet,
and counting, there are also seven billion people,
which means that for the vast majority of us getting
around involves taking buses, ferryboats, commuter
(5) trains, streetcars, and subways. In other words,
traveling to work, school, or the market means being
a straphanger: somebody who, by choice or necessity,
relies on public transport, rather than a privately
owned automobile.
(10) Half the population of New York, Toronto, and
London do not own cars. Public transport is how
most of the people of Asia and Africa, the world’s
most populous continents, travel. Every day, subway
systems carry 155 million passengers, thirty-four
(15) times the number carried by all the world’s airplanes,
and the global public transport market is now valued
at $428 billion annually. A century and a half after
the invention of the internal combustion engine,
private car ownership is still an anomaly.
(20) And yet public transportation, in many minds, is
the opposite of glamour—a squalid last resort for
those with one too many impaired driving charges,
too poor to afford insurance, or too decrepit to get
behind the wheel of a car. In much of North
(25) America, they are right: taking transit is a depressing
experience. Anybody who has waited far too long on
a street corner for the privilege of boarding a
lurching, overcrowded bus, or wrestled luggage onto
subways and shuttles to get to a big city airport,
(30) knows that transit on this continent tends to be
underfunded, ill-maintained, and ill-planned. Given
the opportunity, who wouldn’t drive? Hopping in a
car almost always gets you to your destination more
quickly.
(35) It doesn’t have to be like this. Done right, public
transport can be faster, more comfortable, and
cheaper than the private automobile. In Shanghai,
German-made magnetic levitation trains skim over
elevated tracks at 266 miles an hour, whisking people
(40) to the airport at a third of the speed of sound. In
provincial French towns, electric-powered streetcars
run silently on rubber tires, sliding through narrow
streets along a single guide rail set into cobblestones.
From Spain to Sweden, Wi-Fi equipped high-speed
(45) trains seamlessly connect with highly ramified metro
networks, allowing commuters to work on laptops as
they prepare for same-day meetings in once distant
capital cities. In Latin America, China, and India,
working people board fast-loading buses that move
(50) like subway trains along dedicated busways, leaving
the sedans and SUVs of the rich mired in
dawn-to-dusk traffic jams. And some cities have
transformed their streets into cycle-path freeways,
making giant strides in public health and safety and
(55) the sheer livability of their neighborhoods—in the
process turning the workaday bicycle into a viable
form of mass transit.
If you credit the demographers, this transit trend
has legs. The “Millenials,” who reached adulthood
(60) around the turn of the century and now outnumber
baby boomers, tend to favor cities over suburbs, and
are far more willing than their parents to ride buses
and subways. Part of the reason is their ease with
iPads, MP3 players, Kindles, and smartphones: you
(65) can get some serious texting done when you’re not
driving, and earbuds offer effective insulation from
all but the most extreme commuting annoyances.
Even though there are more teenagers in the country
than ever, only ten million have a driver’s license
(70) (versus twelve million a generation ago). Baby
boomers may have been raised in Leave It to Beaver
suburbs, but as they retire, a significant contingent is
favoring older cities and compact towns where they
have the option of walking and riding bikes. Seniors,
(75) too, are more likely to use transit, and by 2025, there
will be 64 million Americans over the age of
sixty-five. Already, dwellings in older neighborhoods
in Washington, D.C., Atlanta, and Denver, especially
those near light-rail or subway stations, are
(80) commanding enormous price premiums over
suburban homes. The experience of European and
Asian cities shows that if you make buses, subways,
and trains convenient, comfortable, fast, and safe, a
surprisingly large percentage of citizens will opt to
(85) ride rather than drive.
Q. Taken together, the two figures suggest that most people who use public transportation
Question based on the following passage.
This passage is adapted from Thor Hanson, Feathers. ©2011 by Thor Hanson. Scientists have long debated how the ancestors of birds evolved the ability to fly. The ground-up theory assumes they were fleet-footed ground dwellers that captured prey by leaping and flapping their upper limbs. The tree-down theory assumes they were tree climbers that leapt and glided among branches.
At field sites around the world, Ken Dial saw a
pattern in how young pheasants, quail, tinamous,
and other ground birds ran along behind their
parents. “They jumped up like popcorn,” he said,
(5) describing how they would flap their half-formed
wings and take short hops into the air. So when a
group of graduate students challenged him
to come up with new data on the age-old
ground-up-tree-down debate, he designed a project
(10) to see what clues might lie in how baby game birds
learned to fly.
Ken settled on the Chukar Partridge as a
model species, but he might not have made his
discovery without a key piece of advice from the local
(15) rancher in Montana who was supplying him with
birds. When the cowboy stopped by to see how
things were going, Ken showed him his nice, tidy
laboratory setup and explained how the birds’ first
hops and flights would be measured. The rancher
(20) was incredulous. “He took one look and said, in
pretty colorful language, ‘What are those birds doing
on the ground? They hate to be on the ground! Give
them something to climb on!’ ” At first it seemed
unnatural—ground birds don’t like the ground? But
(25) as he thought about it Ken realized that all the
species he’d watched in the wild preferred to rest on
ledges, low branches, or other elevated perches where
they were safe from predators. They really only used
the ground for feeding and traveling. So he brought
(30) in some hay bales for the Chukars to perch on and
then left his son in charge of feeding and data
collection while he went away on a short work trip.
Barely a teenager at the time, young Terry Dial
was visibly upset when his father got back. “I asked
(35) him how it went,” Ken recalled, “and he said,
Terrible! The birds are cheating!’ ” Instead of flying
up to their perches, the baby Chukars were using
their legs. Time and again Terry had watched them
run right up the side of a hay bale, flapping all the
(40) while. Ken dashed out to see for himself, and that
was the “aha” moment. “The birds were using their
wings and legs cooperatively,” he told me, and that
single observation opened up a world of possibilities.
Working together with Terry (who has since gone
(45) on to study animal locomotion), Ken came up with a
series of ingenious experiments, filming the birds as
they raced up textured ramps tilted at increasing
angles. As the incline increased, the partridges began
to flap, but they angled their wings differently from
(50) birds in flight. They aimed their flapping down and
backward, using the force not for lift but to keep
their feet firmly pressed against the ramp. “It’s like
the spoiler on the back of a race car,” he explained,
which is a very apt analogy. In Formula One racing,
(55) spoilers are the big aerodynamic fins that push the
cars downward as they speed along, increasing
traction and handling. The birds were doing the very
same thing with their wings to help them scramble
up otherwise impossible slopes.
(60) Ken called the technique WAIR, for wing-assisted
incline running, and went on to document it in a
wide range of species. It not only allowed young
birds to climb vertical surfaces within the first few
weeks of life but also gave adults an energy-efficient
(65) alternative to flying. In the Chukar experiments,
adults regularly used WAIR to ascend ramps steeper
than 90 degrees, essentially running up the wall and
onto the ceiling.
In an evolutionary context, WAIR takes on
(70) surprising explanatory powers. With one fell swoop,
the Dials came up with a viable origin for the
flapping flight stroke of birds (something gliding
animals don’t do and thus a shortcoming of the
tree-down theory) and an aerodynamic function for
(75) half-formed wings (one of the main drawbacks to the
ground-up hypothesis).
Q. Which choice best reflects the overall sequence of events in the passage?
Question based on the following passage.
This passage is adapted from Thor Hanson, Feathers. ©2011 by Thor Hanson. Scientists have long debated how the ancestors of birds evolved the ability to fly. The ground-up theory assumes they were fleet-footed ground dwellers that captured prey by leaping and flapping their upper limbs. The tree-down theory assumes they were tree climbers that leapt and glided among branches.
At field sites around the world, Ken Dial saw a
pattern in how young pheasants, quail, tinamous,
and other ground birds ran along behind their
parents. “They jumped up like popcorn,” he said,
(5) describing how they would flap their half-formed
wings and take short hops into the air. So when a
group of graduate students challenged him
to come up with new data on the age-old
ground-up-tree-down debate, he designed a project
(10) to see what clues might lie in how baby game birds
learned to fly.
Ken settled on the Chukar Partridge as a
model species, but he might not have made his
discovery without a key piece of advice from the local
(15) rancher in Montana who was supplying him with
birds. When the cowboy stopped by to see how
things were going, Ken showed him his nice, tidy
laboratory setup and explained how the birds’ first
hops and flights would be measured. The rancher
(20) was incredulous. “He took one look and said, in
pretty colorful language, ‘What are those birds doing
on the ground? They hate to be on the ground! Give
them something to climb on!’ ” At first it seemed
unnatural—ground birds don’t like the ground? But
(25) as he thought about it Ken realized that all the
species he’d watched in the wild preferred to rest on
ledges, low branches, or other elevated perches where
they were safe from predators. They really only used
the ground for feeding and traveling. So he brought
(30) in some hay bales for the Chukars to perch on and
then left his son in charge of feeding and data
collection while he went away on a short work trip.
Barely a teenager at the time, young Terry Dial
was visibly upset when his father got back. “I asked
(35) him how it went,” Ken recalled, “and he said,
Terrible! The birds are cheating!’ ” Instead of flying
up to their perches, the baby Chukars were using
their legs. Time and again Terry had watched them
run right up the side of a hay bale, flapping all the
(40) while. Ken dashed out to see for himself, and that
was the “aha” moment. “The birds were using their
wings and legs cooperatively,” he told me, and that
single observation opened up a world of possibilities.
Working together with Terry (who has since gone
(45) on to study animal locomotion), Ken came up with a
series of ingenious experiments, filming the birds as
they raced up textured ramps tilted at increasing
angles. As the incline increased, the partridges began
to flap, but they angled their wings differently from
(50) birds in flight. They aimed their flapping down and
backward, using the force not for lift but to keep
their feet firmly pressed against the ramp. “It’s like
the spoiler on the back of a race car,” he explained,
which is a very apt analogy. In Formula One racing,
(55) spoilers are the big aerodynamic fins that push the
cars downward as they speed along, increasing
traction and handling. The birds were doing the very
same thing with their wings to help them scramble
up otherwise impossible slopes.
(60) Ken called the technique WAIR, for wing-assisted
incline running, and went on to document it in a
wide range of species. It not only allowed young
birds to climb vertical surfaces within the first few
weeks of life but also gave adults an energy-efficient
(65) alternative to flying. In the Chukar experiments,
adults regularly used WAIR to ascend ramps steeper
than 90 degrees, essentially running up the wall and
onto the ceiling.
In an evolutionary context, WAIR takes on
(70) surprising explanatory powers. With one fell swoop,
the Dials came up with a viable origin for the
flapping flight stroke of birds (something gliding
animals don’t do and thus a shortcoming of the
tree-down theory) and an aerodynamic function for
(75) half-formed wings (one of the main drawbacks to the
ground-up hypothesis).
Q. As used in line 7, “challenged” most nearly means
Question based on the following passage.
This passage is adapted from Thor Hanson, Feathers. ©2011 by Thor Hanson. Scientists have long debated how the ancestors of birds evolved the ability to fly. The ground-up theory assumes they were fleet-footed ground dwellers that captured prey by leaping and flapping their upper limbs. The tree-down theory assumes they were tree climbers that leapt and glided among branches.
At field sites around the world, Ken Dial saw a
pattern in how young pheasants, quail, tinamous,
and other ground birds ran along behind their
parents. “They jumped up like popcorn,” he said,
(5) describing how they would flap their half-formed
wings and take short hops into the air. So when a
group of graduate students challenged him
to come up with new data on the age-old
ground-up-tree-down debate, he designed a project
(10) to see what clues might lie in how baby game birds
learned to fly.
Ken settled on the Chukar Partridge as a
model species, but he might not have made his
discovery without a key piece of advice from the local
(15) rancher in Montana who was supplying him with
birds. When the cowboy stopped by to see how
things were going, Ken showed him his nice, tidy
laboratory setup and explained how the birds’ first
hops and flights would be measured. The rancher
(20) was incredulous. “He took one look and said, in
pretty colorful language, ‘What are those birds doing
on the ground? They hate to be on the ground! Give
them something to climb on!’ ” At first it seemed
unnatural—ground birds don’t like the ground? But
(25) as he thought about it Ken realized that all the
species he’d watched in the wild preferred to rest on
ledges, low branches, or other elevated perches where
they were safe from predators. They really only used
the ground for feeding and traveling. So he brought
(30) in some hay bales for the Chukars to perch on and
then left his son in charge of feeding and data
collection while he went away on a short work trip.
Barely a teenager at the time, young Terry Dial
was visibly upset when his father got back. “I asked
(35) him how it went,” Ken recalled, “and he said,
Terrible! The birds are cheating!’ ” Instead of flying
up to their perches, the baby Chukars were using
their legs. Time and again Terry had watched them
run right up the side of a hay bale, flapping all the
(40) while. Ken dashed out to see for himself, and that
was the “aha” moment. “The birds were using their
wings and legs cooperatively,” he told me, and that
single observation opened up a world of possibilities.
Working together with Terry (who has since gone
(45) on to study animal locomotion), Ken came up with a
series of ingenious experiments, filming the birds as
they raced up textured ramps tilted at increasing
angles. As the incline increased, the partridges began
to flap, but they angled their wings differently from
(50) birds in flight. They aimed their flapping down and
backward, using the force not for lift but to keep
their feet firmly pressed against the ramp. “It’s like
the spoiler on the back of a race car,” he explained,
which is a very apt analogy. In Formula One racing,
(55) spoilers are the big aerodynamic fins that push the
cars downward as they speed along, increasing
traction and handling. The birds were doing the very
same thing with their wings to help them scramble
up otherwise impossible slopes.
(60) Ken called the technique WAIR, for wing-assisted
incline running, and went on to document it in a
wide range of species. It not only allowed young
birds to climb vertical surfaces within the first few
weeks of life but also gave adults an energy-efficient
(65) alternative to flying. In the Chukar experiments,
adults regularly used WAIR to ascend ramps steeper
than 90 degrees, essentially running up the wall and
onto the ceiling.
In an evolutionary context, WAIR takes on
(70) surprising explanatory powers. With one fell swoop,
the Dials came up with a viable origin for the
flapping flight stroke of birds (something gliding
animals don’t do and thus a shortcoming of the
tree-down theory) and an aerodynamic function for
(75) half-formed wings (one of the main drawbacks to the
ground-up hypothesis).
Q. Which statement best captures Ken Dial’s central assumption in setting up his research?
Question based on the following passage.
This passage is adapted from Thor Hanson, Feathers. ©2011 by Thor Hanson. Scientists have long debated how the ancestors of birds evolved the ability to fly. The ground-up theory assumes they were fleet-footed ground dwellers that captured prey by leaping and flapping their upper limbs. The tree-down theory assumes they were tree climbers that leapt and glided among branches.
At field sites around the world, Ken Dial saw a
pattern in how young pheasants, quail, tinamous,
and other ground birds ran along behind their
parents. “They jumped up like popcorn,” he said,
(5) describing how they would flap their half-formed
wings and take short hops into the air. So when a
group of graduate students challenged him
to come up with new data on the age-old
ground-up-tree-down debate, he designed a project
(10) to see what clues might lie in how baby game birds
learned to fly.
Ken settled on the Chukar Partridge as a
model species, but he might not have made his
discovery without a key piece of advice from the local
(15) rancher in Montana who was supplying him with
birds. When the cowboy stopped by to see how
things were going, Ken showed him his nice, tidy
laboratory setup and explained how the birds’ first
hops and flights would be measured. The rancher
(20) was incredulous. “He took one look and said, in
pretty colorful language, ‘What are those birds doing
on the ground? They hate to be on the ground! Give
them something to climb on!’ ” At first it seemed
unnatural—ground birds don’t like the ground? But
(25) as he thought about it Ken realized that all the
species he’d watched in the wild preferred to rest on
ledges, low branches, or other elevated perches where
they were safe from predators. They really only used
the ground for feeding and traveling. So he brought
(30) in some hay bales for the Chukars to perch on and
then left his son in charge of feeding and data
collection while he went away on a short work trip.
Barely a teenager at the time, young Terry Dial
was visibly upset when his father got back. “I asked
(35) him how it went,” Ken recalled, “and he said,
Terrible! The birds are cheating!’ ” Instead of flying
up to their perches, the baby Chukars were using
their legs. Time and again Terry had watched them
run right up the side of a hay bale, flapping all the
(40) while. Ken dashed out to see for himself, and that
was the “aha” moment. “The birds were using their
wings and legs cooperatively,” he told me, and that
single observation opened up a world of possibilities.
Working together with Terry (who has since gone
(45) on to study animal locomotion), Ken came up with a
series of ingenious experiments, filming the birds as
they raced up textured ramps tilted at increasing
angles. As the incline increased, the partridges began
to flap, but they angled their wings differently from
(50) birds in flight. They aimed their flapping down and
backward, using the force not for lift but to keep
their feet firmly pressed against the ramp. “It’s like
the spoiler on the back of a race car,” he explained,
which is a very apt analogy. In Formula One racing,
(55) spoilers are the big aerodynamic fins that push the
cars downward as they speed along, increasing
traction and handling. The birds were doing the very
same thing with their wings to help them scramble
up otherwise impossible slopes.
(60) Ken called the technique WAIR, for wing-assisted
incline running, and went on to document it in a
wide range of species. It not only allowed young
birds to climb vertical surfaces within the first few
weeks of life but also gave adults an energy-efficient
(65) alternative to flying. In the Chukar experiments,
adults regularly used WAIR to ascend ramps steeper
than 90 degrees, essentially running up the wall and
onto the ceiling.
In an evolutionary context, WAIR takes on
(70) surprising explanatory powers. With one fell swoop,
the Dials came up with a viable origin for the
flapping flight stroke of birds (something gliding
animals don’t do and thus a shortcoming of the
tree-down theory) and an aerodynamic function for
(75) half-formed wings (one of the main drawbacks to the
ground-up hypothesis).
Q. Which choice provides the best evidence for the answer to the previous question?
Question based on the following passage.
This passage is adapted from Thor Hanson, Feathers. ©2011 by Thor Hanson. Scientists have long debated how the ancestors of birds evolved the ability to fly. The ground-up theory assumes they were fleet-footed ground dwellers that captured prey by leaping and flapping their upper limbs. The tree-down theory assumes they were tree climbers that leapt and glided among branches.
At field sites around the world, Ken Dial saw a
pattern in how young pheasants, quail, tinamous,
and other ground birds ran along behind their
parents. “They jumped up like popcorn,” he said,
(5) describing how they would flap their half-formed
wings and take short hops into the air. So when a
group of graduate students challenged him
to come up with new data on the age-old
ground-up-tree-down debate, he designed a project
(10) to see what clues might lie in how baby game birds
learned to fly.
Ken settled on the Chukar Partridge as a
model species, but he might not have made his
discovery without a key piece of advice from the local
(15) rancher in Montana who was supplying him with
birds. When the cowboy stopped by to see how
things were going, Ken showed him his nice, tidy
laboratory setup and explained how the birds’ first
hops and flights would be measured. The rancher
(20) was incredulous. “He took one look and said, in
pretty colorful language, ‘What are those birds doing
on the ground? They hate to be on the ground! Give
them something to climb on!’ ” At first it seemed
unnatural—ground birds don’t like the ground? But
(25) as he thought about it Ken realized that all the
species he’d watched in the wild preferred to rest on
ledges, low branches, or other elevated perches where
they were safe from predators. They really only used
the ground for feeding and traveling. So he brought
(30) in some hay bales for the Chukars to perch on and
then left his son in charge of feeding and data
collection while he went away on a short work trip.
Barely a teenager at the time, young Terry Dial
was visibly upset when his father got back. “I asked
(35) him how it went,” Ken recalled, “and he said,
Terrible! The birds are cheating!’ ” Instead of flying
up to their perches, the baby Chukars were using
their legs. Time and again Terry had watched them
run right up the side of a hay bale, flapping all the
(40) while. Ken dashed out to see for himself, and that
was the “aha” moment. “The birds were using their
wings and legs cooperatively,” he told me, and that
single observation opened up a world of possibilities.
Working together with Terry (who has since gone
(45) on to study animal locomotion), Ken came up with a
series of ingenious experiments, filming the birds as
they raced up textured ramps tilted at increasing
angles. As the incline increased, the partridges began
to flap, but they angled their wings differently from
(50) birds in flight. They aimed their flapping down and
backward, using the force not for lift but to keep
their feet firmly pressed against the ramp. “It’s like
the spoiler on the back of a race car,” he explained,
which is a very apt analogy. In Formula One racing,
(55) spoilers are the big aerodynamic fins that push the
cars downward as they speed along, increasing
traction and handling. The birds were doing the very
same thing with their wings to help them scramble
up otherwise impossible slopes.
(60) Ken called the technique WAIR, for wing-assisted
incline running, and went on to document it in a
wide range of species. It not only allowed young
birds to climb vertical surfaces within the first few
weeks of life but also gave adults an energy-efficient
(65) alternative to flying. In the Chukar experiments,
adults regularly used WAIR to ascend ramps steeper
than 90 degrees, essentially running up the wall and
onto the ceiling.
In an evolutionary context, WAIR takes on
(70) surprising explanatory powers. With one fell swoop,
the Dials came up with a viable origin for the
flapping flight stroke of birds (something gliding
animals don’t do and thus a shortcoming of the
tree-down theory) and an aerodynamic function for
(75) half-formed wings (one of the main drawbacks to the
ground-up hypothesis).
Q. In the second paragraph (lines 12-32), the incident involving the local rancher mainly serves to
Question based on the following passage.
This passage is adapted from Thor Hanson, Feathers. ©2011 by Thor Hanson. Scientists have long debated how the ancestors of birds evolved the ability to fly. The ground-up theory assumes they were fleet-footed ground dwellers that captured prey by leaping and flapping their upper limbs. The tree-down theory assumes they were tree climbers that leapt and glided among branches.
At field sites around the world, Ken Dial saw a
pattern in how young pheasants, quail, tinamous,
and other ground birds ran along behind their
parents. “They jumped up like popcorn,” he said,
(5) describing how they would flap their half-formed
wings and take short hops into the air. So when a
group of graduate students challenged him
to come up with new data on the age-old
ground-up-tree-down debate, he designed a project
(10) to see what clues might lie in how baby game birds
learned to fly.
Ken settled on the Chukar Partridge as a
model species, but he might not have made his
discovery without a key piece of advice from the local
(15) rancher in Montana who was supplying him with
birds. When the cowboy stopped by to see how
things were going, Ken showed him his nice, tidy
laboratory setup and explained how the birds’ first
hops and flights would be measured. The rancher
(20) was incredulous. “He took one look and said, in
pretty colorful language, ‘What are those birds doing
on the ground? They hate to be on the ground! Give
them something to climb on!’ ” At first it seemed
unnatural—ground birds don’t like the ground? But
(25) as he thought about it Ken realized that all the
species he’d watched in the wild preferred to rest on
ledges, low branches, or other elevated perches where
they were safe from predators. They really only used
the ground for feeding and traveling. So he brought
(30) in some hay bales for the Chukars to perch on and
then left his son in charge of feeding and data
collection while he went away on a short work trip.
Barely a teenager at the time, young Terry Dial
was visibly upset when his father got back. “I asked
(35) him how it went,” Ken recalled, “and he said,
Terrible! The birds are cheating!’ ” Instead of flying
up to their perches, the baby Chukars were using
their legs. Time and again Terry had watched them
run right up the side of a hay bale, flapping all the
(40) while. Ken dashed out to see for himself, and that
was the “aha” moment. “The birds were using their
wings and legs cooperatively,” he told me, and that
single observation opened up a world of possibilities.
Working together with Terry (who has since gone
(45) on to study animal locomotion), Ken came up with a
series of ingenious experiments, filming the birds as
they raced up textured ramps tilted at increasing
angles. As the incline increased, the partridges began
to flap, but they angled their wings differently from
(50) birds in flight. They aimed their flapping down and
backward, using the force not for lift but to keep
their feet firmly pressed against the ramp. “It’s like
the spoiler on the back of a race car,” he explained,
which is a very apt analogy. In Formula One racing,
(55) spoilers are the big aerodynamic fins that push the
cars downward as they speed along, increasing
traction and handling. The birds were doing the very
same thing with their wings to help them scramble
up otherwise impossible slopes.
(60) Ken called the technique WAIR, for wing-assisted
incline running, and went on to document it in a
wide range of species. It not only allowed young
birds to climb vertical surfaces within the first few
weeks of life but also gave adults an energy-efficient
(65) alternative to flying. In the Chukar experiments,
adults regularly used WAIR to ascend ramps steeper
than 90 degrees, essentially running up the wall and
onto the ceiling.
In an evolutionary context, WAIR takes on
(70) surprising explanatory powers. With one fell swoop,
the Dials came up with a viable origin for the
flapping flight stroke of birds (something gliding
animals don’t do and thus a shortcoming of the
tree-down theory) and an aerodynamic function for
(75) half-formed wings (one of the main drawbacks to the
ground-up hypothesis).
Q. After Ken Dial had his “‘aha’ moment” (line 41), he
Question based on the following passage.
This passage is adapted from Thor Hanson, Feathers. ©2011 by Thor Hanson. Scientists have long debated how the ancestors of birds evolved the ability to fly. The ground-up theory assumes they were fleet-footed ground dwellers that captured prey by leaping and flapping their upper limbs. The tree-down theory assumes they were tree climbers that leapt and glided among branches.
At field sites around the world, Ken Dial saw a
pattern in how young pheasants, quail, tinamous,
and other ground birds ran along behind their
parents. “They jumped up like popcorn,” he said,
(5) describing how they would flap their half-formed
wings and take short hops into the air. So when a
group of graduate students challenged him
to come up with new data on the age-old
ground-up-tree-down debate, he designed a project
(10) to see what clues might lie in how baby game birds
learned to fly.
Ken settled on the Chukar Partridge as a
model species, but he might not have made his
discovery without a key piece of advice from the local
(15) rancher in Montana who was supplying him with
birds. When the cowboy stopped by to see how
things were going, Ken showed him his nice, tidy
laboratory setup and explained how the birds’ first
hops and flights would be measured. The rancher
(20) was incredulous. “He took one look and said, in
pretty colorful language, ‘What are those birds doing
on the ground? They hate to be on the ground! Give
them something to climb on!’ ” At first it seemed
unnatural—ground birds don’t like the ground? But
(25) as he thought about it Ken realized that all the
species he’d watched in the wild preferred to rest on
ledges, low branches, or other elevated perches where
they were safe from predators. They really only used
the ground for feeding and traveling. So he brought
(30) in some hay bales for the Chukars to perch on and
then left his son in charge of feeding and data
collection while he went away on a short work trip.
Barely a teenager at the time, young Terry Dial
was visibly upset when his father got back. “I asked
(35) him how it went,” Ken recalled, “and he said,
Terrible! The birds are cheating!’ ” Instead of flying
up to their perches, the baby Chukars were using
their legs. Time and again Terry had watched them
run right up the side of a hay bale, flapping all the
(40) while. Ken dashed out to see for himself, and that
was the “aha” moment. “The birds were using their
wings and legs cooperatively,” he told me, and that
single observation opened up a world of possibilities.
Working together with Terry (who has since gone
(45) on to study animal locomotion), Ken came up with a
series of ingenious experiments, filming the birds as
they raced up textured ramps tilted at increasing
angles. As the incline increased, the partridges began
to flap, but they angled their wings differently from
(50) birds in flight. They aimed their flapping down and
backward, using the force not for lift but to keep
their feet firmly pressed against the ramp. “It’s like
the spoiler on the back of a race car,” he explained,
which is a very apt analogy. In Formula One racing,
(55) spoilers are the big aerodynamic fins that push the
cars downward as they speed along, increasing
traction and handling. The birds were doing the very
same thing with their wings to help them scramble
up otherwise impossible slopes.
(60) Ken called the technique WAIR, for wing-assisted
incline running, and went on to document it in a
wide range of species. It not only allowed young
birds to climb vertical surfaces within the first few
weeks of life but also gave adults an energy-efficient
(65) alternative to flying. In the Chukar experiments,
adults regularly used WAIR to ascend ramps steeper
than 90 degrees, essentially running up the wall and
onto the ceiling.
In an evolutionary context, WAIR takes on
(70) surprising explanatory powers. With one fell swoop,
the Dials came up with a viable origin for the
flapping flight stroke of birds (something gliding
animals don’t do and thus a shortcoming of the
tree-down theory) and an aerodynamic function for
(75) half-formed wings (one of the main drawbacks to the
ground-up hypothesis).
Q. The passage identifies which of the following as a factor that facilitated the baby Chukars’ traction on steep ramps?
Question based on the following passage.
This passage is adapted from Thor Hanson, Feathers. ©2011 by Thor Hanson. Scientists have long debated how the ancestors of birds evolved the ability to fly. The ground-up theory assumes they were fleet-footed ground dwellers that captured prey by leaping and flapping their upper limbs. The tree-down theory assumes they were tree climbers that leapt and glided among branches.
At field sites around the world, Ken Dial saw a
pattern in how young pheasants, quail, tinamous,
and other ground birds ran along behind their
parents. “They jumped up like popcorn,” he said,
(5) describing how they would flap their half-formed
wings and take short hops into the air. So when a
group of graduate students challenged him
to come up with new data on the age-old
ground-up-tree-down debate, he designed a project
(10) to see what clues might lie in how baby game birds
learned to fly.
Ken settled on the Chukar Partridge as a
model species, but he might not have made his
discovery without a key piece of advice from the local
(15) rancher in Montana who was supplying him with
birds. When the cowboy stopped by to see how
things were going, Ken showed him his nice, tidy
laboratory setup and explained how the birds’ first
hops and flights would be measured. The rancher
(20) was incredulous. “He took one look and said, in
pretty colorful language, ‘What are those birds doing
on the ground? They hate to be on the ground! Give
them something to climb on!’ ” At first it seemed
unnatural—ground birds don’t like the ground? But
(25) as he thought about it Ken realized that all the
species he’d watched in the wild preferred to rest on
ledges, low branches, or other elevated perches where
they were safe from predators. They really only used
the ground for feeding and traveling. So he brought
(30) in some hay bales for the Chukars to perch on and
then left his son in charge of feeding and data
collection while he went away on a short work trip.
Barely a teenager at the time, young Terry Dial
was visibly upset when his father got back. “I asked
(35) him how it went,” Ken recalled, “and he said,
Terrible! The birds are cheating!’ ” Instead of flying
up to their perches, the baby Chukars were using
their legs. Time and again Terry had watched them
run right up the side of a hay bale, flapping all the
(40) while. Ken dashed out to see for himself, and that
was the “aha” moment. “The birds were using their
wings and legs cooperatively,” he told me, and that
single observation opened up a world of possibilities.
Working together with Terry (who has since gone
(45) on to study animal locomotion), Ken came up with a
series of ingenious experiments, filming the birds as
they raced up textured ramps tilted at increasing
angles. As the incline increased, the partridges began
to flap, but they angled their wings differently from
(50) birds in flight. They aimed their flapping down and
backward, using the force not for lift but to keep
their feet firmly pressed against the ramp. “It’s like
the spoiler on the back of a race car,” he explained,
which is a very apt analogy. In Formula One racing,
(55) spoilers are the big aerodynamic fins that push the
cars downward as they speed along, increasing
traction and handling. The birds were doing the very
same thing with their wings to help them scramble
up otherwise impossible slopes.
(60) Ken called the technique WAIR, for wing-assisted
incline running, and went on to document it in a
wide range of species. It not only allowed young
birds to climb vertical surfaces within the first few
weeks of life but also gave adults an energy-efficient
(65) alternative to flying. In the Chukar experiments,
adults regularly used WAIR to ascend ramps steeper
than 90 degrees, essentially running up the wall and
onto the ceiling.
In an evolutionary context, WAIR takes on
(70) surprising explanatory powers. With one fell swoop,
the Dials came up with a viable origin for the
flapping flight stroke of birds (something gliding
animals don’t do and thus a shortcoming of the
tree-down theory) and an aerodynamic function for
(75) half-formed wings (one of the main drawbacks to the
ground-up hypothesis).
Q. As used in line 61, “document” most nearly means
Question based on the following passage.
This passage is adapted from Thor Hanson, Feathers. ©2011 by Thor Hanson. Scientists have long debated how the ancestors of birds evolved the ability to fly. The ground-up theory assumes they were fleet-footed ground dwellers that captured prey by leaping and flapping their upper limbs. The tree-down theory assumes they were tree climbers that leapt and glided among branches.
At field sites around the world, Ken Dial saw a
pattern in how young pheasants, quail, tinamous,
and other ground birds ran along behind their
parents. “They jumped up like popcorn,” he said,
(5) describing how they would flap their half-formed
wings and take short hops into the air. So when a
group of graduate students challenged him
to come up with new data on the age-old
ground-up-tree-down debate, he designed a project
(10) to see what clues might lie in how baby game birds
learned to fly.
Ken settled on the Chukar Partridge as a
model species, but he might not have made his
discovery without a key piece of advice from the local
(15) rancher in Montana who was supplying him with
birds. When the cowboy stopped by to see how
things were going, Ken showed him his nice, tidy
laboratory setup and explained how the birds’ first
hops and flights would be measured. The rancher
(20) was incredulous. “He took one look and said, in
pretty colorful language, ‘What are those birds doing
on the ground? They hate to be on the ground! Give
them something to climb on!’ ” At first it seemed
unnatural—ground birds don’t like the ground? But
(25) as he thought about it Ken realized that all the
species he’d watched in the wild preferred to rest on
ledges, low branches, or other elevated perches where
they were safe from predators. They really only used
the ground for feeding and traveling. So he brought
(30) in some hay bales for the Chukars to perch on and
then left his son in charge of feeding and data
collection while he went away on a short work trip.
Barely a teenager at the time, young Terry Dial
was visibly upset when his father got back. “I asked
(35) him how it went,” Ken recalled, “and he said,
Terrible! The birds are cheating!’ ” Instead of flying
up to their perches, the baby Chukars were using
their legs. Time and again Terry had watched them
run right up the side of a hay bale, flapping all the
(40) while. Ken dashed out to see for himself, and that
was the “aha” moment. “The birds were using their
wings and legs cooperatively,” he told me, and that
single observation opened up a world of possibilities.
Working together with Terry (who has since gone
(45) on to study animal locomotion), Ken came up with a
series of ingenious experiments, filming the birds as
they raced up textured ramps tilted at increasing
angles. As the incline increased, the partridges began
to flap, but they angled their wings differently from
(50) birds in flight. They aimed their flapping down and
backward, using the force not for lift but to keep
their feet firmly pressed against the ramp. “It’s like
the spoiler on the back of a race car,” he explained,
which is a very apt analogy. In Formula One racing,
(55) spoilers are the big aerodynamic fins that push the
cars downward as they speed along, increasing
traction and handling. The birds were doing the very
same thing with their wings to help them scramble
up otherwise impossible slopes.
(60) Ken called the technique WAIR, for wing-assisted
incline running, and went on to document it in a
wide range of species. It not only allowed young
birds to climb vertical surfaces within the first few
weeks of life but also gave adults an energy-efficient
(65) alternative to flying. In the Chukar experiments,
adults regularly used WAIR to ascend ramps steeper
than 90 degrees, essentially running up the wall and
onto the ceiling.
In an evolutionary context, WAIR takes on
(70) surprising explanatory powers. With one fell swoop,
the Dials came up with a viable origin for the
flapping flight stroke of birds (something gliding
animals don’t do and thus a shortcoming of the
tree-down theory) and an aerodynamic function for
(75) half-formed wings (one of the main drawbacks to the
ground-up hypothesis).
Q. What can reasonably be inferred about gliding animals from the passage?
Question based on the following passage.
This passage is adapted from Thor Hanson, Feathers. ©2011 by Thor Hanson. Scientists have long debated how the ancestors of birds evolved the ability to fly. The ground-up theory assumes they were fleet-footed ground dwellers that captured prey by leaping and flapping their upper limbs. The tree-down theory assumes they were tree climbers that leapt and glided among branches.
At field sites around the world, Ken Dial saw a
pattern in how young pheasants, quail, tinamous,
and other ground birds ran along behind their
parents. “They jumped up like popcorn,” he said,
(5) describing how they would flap their half-formed
wings and take short hops into the air. So when a
group of graduate students challenged him
to come up with new data on the age-old
ground-up-tree-down debate, he designed a project
(10) to see what clues might lie in how baby game birds
learned to fly.
Ken settled on the Chukar Partridge as a
model species, but he might not have made his
discovery without a key piece of advice from the local
(15) rancher in Montana who was supplying him with
birds. When the cowboy stopped by to see how
things were going, Ken showed him his nice, tidy
laboratory setup and explained how the birds’ first
hops and flights would be measured. The rancher
(20) was incredulous. “He took one look and said, in
pretty colorful language, ‘What are those birds doing
on the ground? They hate to be on the ground! Give
them something to climb on!’ ” At first it seemed
unnatural—ground birds don’t like the ground? But
(25) as he thought about it Ken realized that all the
species he’d watched in the wild preferred to rest on
ledges, low branches, or other elevated perches where
they were safe from predators. They really only used
the ground for feeding and traveling. So he brought
(30) in some hay bales for the Chukars to perch on and
then left his son in charge of feeding and data
collection while he went away on a short work trip.
Barely a teenager at the time, young Terry Dial
was visibly upset when his father got back. “I asked
(35) him how it went,” Ken recalled, “and he said,
Terrible! The birds are cheating!’ ” Instead of flying
up to their perches, the baby Chukars were using
their legs. Time and again Terry had watched them
run right up the side of a hay bale, flapping all the
(40) while. Ken dashed out to see for himself, and that
was the “aha” moment. “The birds were using their
wings and legs cooperatively,” he told me, and that
single observation opened up a world of possibilities.
Working together with Terry (who has since gone
(45) on to study animal locomotion), Ken came up with a
series of ingenious experiments, filming the birds as
they raced up textured ramps tilted at increasing
angles. As the incline increased, the partridges began
to flap, but they angled their wings differently from
(50) birds in flight. They aimed their flapping down and
backward, using the force not for lift but to keep
their feet firmly pressed against the ramp. “It’s like
the spoiler on the back of a race car,” he explained,
which is a very apt analogy. In Formula One racing,
(55) spoilers are the big aerodynamic fins that push the
cars downward as they speed along, increasing
traction and handling. The birds were doing the very
same thing with their wings to help them scramble
up otherwise impossible slopes.
(60) Ken called the technique WAIR, for wing-assisted
incline running, and went on to document it in a
wide range of species. It not only allowed young
birds to climb vertical surfaces within the first few
weeks of life but also gave adults an energy-efficient
(65) alternative to flying. In the Chukar experiments,
adults regularly used WAIR to ascend ramps steeper
than 90 degrees, essentially running up the wall and
onto the ceiling.
In an evolutionary context, WAIR takes on
(70) surprising explanatory powers. With one fell swoop,
the Dials came up with a viable origin for the
flapping flight stroke of birds (something gliding
animals don’t do and thus a shortcoming of the
tree-down theory) and an aerodynamic function for
(75) half-formed wings (one of the main drawbacks to the
ground-up hypothesis).
Q. Which choice provides the best evidence for the answer to the previous question?
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