At a few minutes past five, Dave noted that the blanket of darkness was lifting. He was just able to make out the heavier masses that eventually appeared as the familiar trees that lined the road at the base of the hill. The upper reaches of the sky showed lighter shades of gray. Dave got out of bed quietly and dressed quickly. He mixed a spoonful of instant chocolate into a glass of cold water, and his impatience forced him to finish the drink in gulps. As he walked down toward the lake, Dave paused to reach for the fishing pole and gear box on the bench where he had left them the night before. By the time he reached the small boat, a thick white mist had spread over the surface of the water. He stepped into the boat, sat down, and rowed out of the weed beds that lined the edge of the shore. The outer fringe of the lake disappeared as the boat moved forward noiselessly. All he could see was the enveloping whiteness. He could not tell where the boat and the surrounding air met the surface of the lake. Dave rowed steadily ahead, relying on a mental picture of the surroundings. Then the mist began to rise, slowly. _ soon rested inches above the still surface of the lake. The heavy silence was now being broken by the fish breaking through the surface as they leaped out of the water for low-flying insects. The magic time had arrived. Dave raised his pole. Dawn was broken. He was excited with expectancy. According to the story, which of the following is TRUE? A) Dave broke the quietness of the lake. B) Dave was familiar with the surroundings. C) Dave took a picture of the lake with him. D) Dave forgot the fishing pole at the beginning.
B
Last year, two days after Christmas, we kicked China out of the house. Not the country obviously, but bits of plastic, metal, and wood with the words "Made in China". We kept what we already had, but stopped bringing any more in. because it had coated our lives with toys, and useless stuff. Sometimes I worried about jobs sent overseas, but price triumphed over virtue at our house. We couldn't resist what China was selling. But on that dark Monday last year, an unease feeling washed over me as I sat on the sofa. It wasn't until then that I noticed a fact: China was taking over the place. It stared back at me from the empty screen of the television. I spied it in the pile of tennis shoes by the door. It glowed in the lights on the Christmas tree and watched me in the eyes of a doll lying on the floor, I slipped off the couch and sorted gifts into two piles: China and non-China. The count came to China, 25, the world, 14. Christmas, I realized, had become a holiday made by the Chinese. Suddenly I wanted China out. I persuaded my husband, and on Jan. 1 st, we started a-year-long household embargo on Chinese imports. The idea wasn't to punish China. And we didn't fool ourselves into thinking because we wanted to measure how far it had pushed in. We wanted to know what it would take in time, money, and worry to kick our China habit! In the spring, our 4-year-old son started a campaign to support "China things". "It's too long without China," he cried. He kept at me all day. I have discovered for myself that China doesn't control every aspect of our daily lives, but if you take a close look at the underside of boxes in the toy department, I promise it will give you pause. "When we can buy China things again? Let's never stop." My son said. After a year without China I can tell you this: You can still live without it, but it's getting costlier by the day. And a decade from now I may not be brave enough to try it again. The best title for the text could be _ . A) China Free Living: A Trouble One B) A Year without "Made in China" C) Why I Choose "Made in China" D) "Made in China": Good or Bad
B
Arthur sat at the desk in his room, pencil in hand. He had to write a story for his English class by Friday. "! don't know what to write about, " he complained to his dog Toby, who was asleep at his feet. Arthur was talkative when speaking to his friends, yet he had trouble finding words when he had to write. By bedtime Arthur had drawn a picture of Toby smiling. He had drawn a tree with its branches blowing in the strong wind. He had also written a note asking his friend Lee to go to the movies on Saturday. But he had not written a single word of his story. On Wednesday, Mrs. Solomon, Arthur's English teacher, asked the class to turn in the first draft of their stories. His heart sinking, Arthur turned in the only work he had--the page with his name, the drawings and the note. Arthur wasn't surprised when Mrs. Solomon asked him to stay after class the next day. But he was surprised by what she said to him. " This is an attractive story, Arthur. The dog, the movie, the tree in the wind--I can't wait to find out how they all fit together. " "That isn't my story, Mrs. Solomon, " Arthur admitted. "I haven't been able to think of one yet. " "Oh, I think you have the seed of a story there, " Mrs. Solomon replied, "Look at your note and the pictures and see if a story comes to you. " That night Arthur sat at his desk, and this is what he wrote: "One Saturday Mike went downstairs to meet his friend Julio at the cinema. It looked as if it might rain, so Mike carried his umbrella. Suddenly a big storm blew in, bending the trees. The noise of the wind sounded like the barking of Mike's dog Toby. Toby really hated storms and barked whenever he wanted to be let inside. Then Mike realized that it wasn't the sound of the wind. It was Toby. The dog was running after him down the busy street, barking. The sound was filled with blame. Mike felt guilty because he had left Toby outside. He turned and headed home with Toby running beside him. Mike let Toby in the door just as the rain started to pour down. " Arthur had a story... What kind of teacher do you think Mrs. Solomon is? A) She is a strict teacher. B) She is a wise teacher. C) She is an honest teacher. D) She is an energetic teacher.
B