Question 1:
Directions: Read the passage given below and answer the questions that follow by selecting the most appropriate option.
Nammescong Creek flowed into the backs of thighs as I fished, pausing between casts to secure my balance in the current and admire a new hatch of pale yellow mayflies lift from the stream. Over my shoulder, the sun dropped into a farmer's cornfield, the final patch of orange light on the water enough for me to spot the small, vaguely metallic object at my feet. Retrieving it, I ran my thumb over its raised lettering, rubbing away the mud and a string of algae. A name appeared, along with an expiration date. June 1984, I had discovered arrowheads here in the past, so it didn't seem misplaced to find a tool used by modern man to obtain a meal.
2. I took a moment to consider how the card had come to rest in the bed of the Nammy. I thought may be there was a story in it. I was curious to know if the owner had lost his wallet while fishing, the whole trip ruined the second he'd inventoried his cash or dug out his license for a game warden. Over time the leather would've rotted into fish food, with a scoured plastic remaining. I wondered how many miles the card might have ridden on spring floods over the past quarter of a century. For all I knew he could've been robbed, the thieves stripping out the money and tossing the billfold away later as they crossed a bridge.
3. Looking him up and phoning, I recited the card number and issuing bank. He laughed, recalling, it as the first credit account he'd ever taken out, a line of imaginary cash in those years when he had no real money. But that finally changed, he explained, after an industrial accident cost him his left eye, the payoff from the plant enabling him to retire eight years earlier than expected and move to a small hobby farm in southern Virginia. He told me a glass eye wasn't his style, so he had taken to wearing an eyepatch, which his wife still hates and his grandchildren- ages three, five and seven- have always loved, as it makes Grandpop look like a pirate. He called them his Miracle Grandbabies, born to a daughter who struggled with alcohol and drug addiction for years- her rock bottom in 1984, a year before she cleaned up for good.
4. But in the end the man couldn't remember ever losing his wallet, either by accident or theft. He said he'd never fished the Nammy, that, in fact, he'd always thought the sport a little boring and so I came to realise there was no story here.
"Flowed into the backs of my thighs" informs the reader that the narrator was fishing while
Question 2:
Directions: Read the passage given below and answer the questions that follow by selecting the most appropriate option.
Nammescong Creek flowed into the backs of thighs as I fished, pausing between casts to secure my balance in the current and admire a new hatch of pale yellow mayflies lift from the stream. Over my shoulder, the sun dropped into a farmer's cornfield, the final patch of orange light on the water enough for me to spot the small, vaguely metallic object at my feet. Retrieving it, I ran my thumb over its raised lettering, rubbing away the mud and a string of algae. A name appeared, along with an expiration date. June 1984, I had discovered arrowheads here in the past, so it didn't seem misplaced to find a tool used by modern man to obtain a meal.
2. I took a moment to consider how the card had come to rest in the bed of the Nammy. I thought may there was a story in it. I was curious to know if the owner had lost his wallet while fishing, the whole trip ruined the second he'd inventoried his cash or dug out his license for a game warden. Over time the leather would've rotted into fish food, with a scoured plastic remaining. I wondered how many miles the card might have ridden on spring floods over the past quarter of a century. For all I knew he could've been robbed, the thieves stripping out the money and tossing the billfold away later as they crossed a bridge.
3. Looking him up and phoning, I recited the card number and issuing bank. He laughed, recalling, it as the first credit account he'd ever taken out, a line of imaginary cash in those years when he had no real money. But that finally changed, he explained, after an industrial accident cost him his left eye, the payoff from the plant enabling him to retire eight years earlier than expected and move to a small hobby farm in southern Virginia. He told me a glass eye wasn't his style, so he had taken to wearing an eyepatch, which his wife still hates and his grandchildren- ages three, five and seven- have always loved, as it makes Grandpop look like a pirate. He called them his Miracle Grandbabies, born to a daughter who struggled with alcohol and drug addiction for years- her rock bottom in 1984, a year before she cleaned up for good.
4. But in the end the man couldn't remember ever losing his wallet, either by accident or theft. He said he'd never fished the Nammy, that, in fact, he'd always thought the sport a little boring and so I came to realise there was no story here.
'Scoured' means
Question 3:
Directions: Read the passage given below and answer the questions that follow by selecting the most appropriate option.
Nammescong Creek flowed into the backs of thighs as I fished, pausing between casts to secure my balance in the current and admire a new hatch of pale yellow mayflies lift from the stream. Over my shoulder, the sun dropped into a farmer's cornfield, the final patch of orange light on the water enough for me to spot the small, vaguely metallic object at my feet. Retrieving it, I ran my thumb over its raised lettering, rubbing away the mud and a string of algae. A name appeared, along with an expiration date. June 1984, I had discovered arrowheads here in the past, so it didn't seem misplaced to find a tool used by modern man to obtain a meal.
2. I took a moment to consider how the card had come to rest in the bed of the Nammy. I thought may there was a story in it. I was curious to know if the owner had lost his wallet while fishing, the whole trip ruined the second he'd inventoried his cash or dug out his license for a game warden. Over time the leather would've rotted into fish food, with a scoured plastic remaining. I wondered how many miles the card might have ridden on spring floods over the past quarter of a century. For all I knew he could've been robbed, the thieves stripping out the money and tossing the billfold away later as they crossed a bridge.
3. Looking him up and phoning, I recited the card number and issuing bank. He laughed, recalling, it as the first credit account he'd ever taken out, a line of imaginary cash in those years when he had no real money. But that finally changed, he explained, after an industrial accident cost him his left eye, the payoff from the plant enabling him to retire eight years earlier than expected and move to a small hobby farm in southern Virginia. He told me a glass eye wasn't his style, so he had taken to wearing an eyepatch, which his wife still hates and his grandchildren- ages three, five and seven- have always loved, as it makes Grandpop look like a pirate. He called them his Miracle Grandbabies, born to a daughter who struggled with alcohol and drug addiction for years- her rock bottom in 1984, a year before she cleaned up for good.
4. But in the end the man couldn't remember ever losing his wallet, either by accident or theft. He said he'd never fished the Nammy, that, in fact, he'd always thought the sport a little boring and so I came to realise there was no story here.
".......a tool used by modern man to obtain a meal" in this context is a/some
Question 4:
Directions: Read the passage given below and answer the questions that follow by selecting the most appropriate option.
Nammescong Creek flowed into the backs of thighs as I fished, pausing between casts to secure my balance in the current and admire a new hatch of pale yellow mayflies lift from the stream. Over my shoulder, the sun dropped into a farmer's cornfield, the final patch of orange light on the water enough for me to spot the small, vaguely metallic object at my feet. Retrieving it, I ran my thumb over its raised lettering, rubbing away the mud and a string of algae. A name appeared, along with an expiration date. June 1984, I had discovered arrowheads here in the past, so it didn't seem misplaced to find a tool used by modern man to obtain a meal.
2. I took a moment to consider how the card had come to rest in the bed of the Nammy. I thought may there was a story in it. I was curious to know if the owner had lost his wallet while fishing, the whole trip ruined the second he'd inventoried his cash or dug out his license for a game warden. Over time the leather would've rotted into fish food, with a scoured plastic remaining. I wondered how many miles the card might have ridden on spring floods over the past quarter of a century. For all I knew he could've been robbed, the thieves stripping out the money and tossing the billfold away later as they crossed a bridge.
3. Looking him up and phoning, I recited the card number and issuing bank. He laughed, recalling, it as the first credit account he'd ever taken out, a line of imaginary cash in those years when he had no real money. But that finally changed, he explained, after an industrial accident cost him his left eye, the payoff from the plant enabling him to retire eight years earlier than expected and move to a small hobby farm in southern Virginia. He told me a glass eye wasn't his style, so he had taken to wearing an eyepatch, which his wife still hates and his grandchildren- ages three, five and seven- have always loved, as it makes Grandpop look like a pirate. He called them his Miracle Grandbabies, born to a daughter who struggled with alcohol and drug addiction for years- her rock bottom in 1984, a year before she cleaned up for good.
4. But in the end the man couldn't remember ever losing his wallet, either by accident or theft. He said he'd never fished the Nammy, that, in fact, he'd always thought the sport a little boring and so I came to realise there was no story here.
'The whole trip ruined' was because of the
Question 5:
Directions: Read the passage given below and answer the questions that follow by selecting the most appropriate option.
Nammescong Creek flowed into the backs of thighs as I fished, pausing between casts to secure my balance in the current and admire a new hatch of pale yellow mayflies lift from the stream. Over my shoulder, the sun dropped into a farmer's cornfield, the final patch of orange light on the water enough for me to spot the small, vaguely metallic object at my feet. Retrieving it, I ran my thumb over its raised lettering, rubbing away the mud and a string of algae. A name appeared, along with an expiration date. June 1984, I had discovered arrowheads here in the past, so it didn't seem misplaced to find a tool used by modern man to obtain a meal.
2. I took a moment to consider how the card had come to rest in the bed of the Nammy. I thought may there was a story in it. I was curious to know if the owner had lost his wallet while fishing, the whole trip ruined the second he'd inventoried his cash or dug out his license for a game warden. Over time the leather would've rotted into fish food, with a scoured plastic remaining. I wondered how many miles the card might have ridden on spring floods over the past quarter of a century. For all I knew he could've been robbed, the thieves stripping out the money and tossing the billfold away later as they crossed a bridge.
3. Looking him up and phoning, I recited the card number and issuing bank. He laughed, recalling, it as the first credit account he'd ever taken out, a line of imaginary cash in those years when he had no real money. But that finally changed, he explained, after an industrial accident cost him his left eye, the payoff from the plant enabling him to retire eight years earlier than expected and move to a small hobby farm in southern Virginia. He told me a glass eye wasn't his style, so he had taken to wearing an eyepatch, which his wife still hates and his grandchildren- ages three, five and seven- have always loved, as it makes Grandpop look like a pirate. He called them his Miracle Grandbabies, born to a daughter who struggled with alcohol and drug addiction for years- her rock bottom in 1984, a year before she cleaned up for good.
4. But in the end the man couldn't remember ever losing his wallet, either by accident or theft. He said he'd never fished the Nammy, that, in fact, he'd always thought the sport a little boring and so I came to realise there was no story here.
By 'looking him up', the narrator
Question 6:
Directions: Read the passage given below and answer the questions that follow by selecting the most appropriate option.
Nammescong Creek flowed into the backs of thighs as I fished, pausing between casts to secure my balance in the current and admire a new hatch of pale yellow mayflies lift from the stream. Over my shoulder, the sun dropped into a farmer's cornfield, the final patch of orange light on the water enough for me to spot the small, vaguely metallic object at my feet. Retrieving it, I ran my thumb over its raised lettering, rubbing away the mud and a string of algae. A name appeared, along with an expiration date. June 1984, I had discovered arrowheads here in the past, so it didn't seem misplaced to find a tool used by modern man to obtain a meal.
2. I took a moment to consider how the card had come to rest in the bed of the Nammy. I thought may there was a story in it. I was curious to know if the owner had lost his wallet while fishing, the whole trip ruined the second he'd inventoried his cash or dug out his license for a game warden. Over time the leather would've rotted into fish food, with a scoured plastic remaining. I wondered how many miles the card might have ridden on spring floods over the past quarter of a century. For all I knew he could've been robbed, the thieves stripping out the money and tossing the billfold away later as they crossed a bridge.
3. Looking him up and phoning, I recited the card number and issuing bank. He laughed, recalling, it as the first credit account he'd ever taken out, a line of imaginary cash in those years when he had no real money. But that finally changed, he explained, after an industrial accident cost him his left eye, the payoff from the plant enabling him to retire eight years earlier than expected and move to a small hobby farm in southern Virginia. He told me a glass eye wasn't his style, so he had taken to wearing an eyepatch, which his wife still hates and his grandchildren- ages three, five and seven- have always loved, as it makes Grandpop look like a pirate. He called them his Miracle Grandbabies, born to a daughter who struggled with alcohol and drug addiction for years- her rock bottom in 1984, a year before she cleaned up for good.
4. But in the end the man couldn't remember ever losing his wallet, either by accident or theft. He said he'd never fished the Nammy, that, in fact, he'd always thought the sport a little boring and so I came to realise there was no story here.
'A small hobby farm' would be
Question 7:
Directions: Read the passage given below and answer the questions that follow by selecting the most appropriate option.
Nammescong Creek flowed into the backs of thighs as I fished, pausing between casts to secure my balance in the current and admire a new hatch of pale yellow mayflies lift from the stream. Over my shoulder, the sun dropped into a farmer's cornfield, the final patch of orange light on the water enough for me to spot the small, vaguely metallic object at my feet. Retrieving it, I ran my thumb over its raised lettering, rubbing away the mud and a string of algae. A name appeared, along with an expiration date. June 1984, I had discovered arrowheads here in the past, so it didn't seem misplaced to find a tool used by modern man to obtain a meal.
2. I took a moment to consider how the card had come to rest in the bed of the Nammy. I thought may there was a story in it. I was curious to know if the owner had lost his wallet while fishing, the whole trip ruined the second he'd inventoried his cash or dug out his license for a game warden. Over time the leather would've rotted into fish food, with a scoured plastic remaining. I wondered how many miles the card might have ridden on spring floods over the past quarter of a century. For all I knew he could've been robbed, the thieves stripping out the money and tossing the billfold away later as they crossed a bridge.
3. Looking him up and phoning, I recited the card number and issuing bank. He laughed, recalling, it as the first credit account he'd ever taken out, a line of imaginary cash in those years when he had no real money. But that finally changed, he explained, after an industrial accident cost him his left eye, the payoff from the plant enabling him to retire eight years earlier than expected and move to a small hobby farm in southern Virginia. He told me a glass eye wasn't his style, so he had taken to wearing an eyepatch, which his wife still hates and his grandchildren- ages three, five and seven- have always loved, as it makes Grandpop look like a pirate. He called them his Miracle Grandbabies, born to a daughter who struggled with alcohol and drug addiction for years- her rock bottom in 1984, a year before she cleaned up for good.
4. But in the end the man couldn't remember ever losing his wallet, either by accident or theft. He said he'd never fished the Nammy, that, in fact, he'd always thought the sport a little boring and so I came to realise there was no story here.
The 'owner's' daughter had cleaned up by
Question 8:
Directions: Read the passage given below and answer the questions that follow by selecting the most appropriate option.
Nammescong Creek flowed into the backs of thighs as I fished, pausing between casts to secure my balance in the current and admire a new hatch of pale yellow mayflies lift from the stream. Over my shoulder, the sun dropped into a farmer's cornfield, the final patch of orange light on the water enough for me to spot the small, vaguely metallic object at my feet. Retrieving it, I ran my thumb over its raised lettering, rubbing away the mud and a string of algae. A name appeared, along with an expiration date. June 1984, I had discovered arrowheads here in the past, so it didn't seem misplaced to find a tool used by modern man to obtain a meal.
2. I took a moment to consider how the card had come to rest in the bed of the Nammy. I thought may there was a story in it. I was curious to know if the owner had lost his wallet while fishing, the whole trip ruined the second he'd inventoried his cash or dug out his license for a game warden. Over time the leather would've rotted into fish food, with a scoured plastic remaining. I wondered how many miles the card might have ridden on spring floods over the past quarter of a century. For all I knew he could've been robbed, the thieves stripping out the money and tossing the billfold away later as they crossed a bridge.
3. Looking him up and phoning, I recited the card number and issuing bank. He laughed, recalling, it as the first credit account he'd ever taken out, a line of imaginary cash in those years when he had no real money. But that finally changed, he explained, after an industrial accident cost him his left eye, the payoff from the plant enabling him to retire eight years earlier than expected and move to a small hobby farm in southern Virginia. He told me a glass eye wasn't his style, so he had taken to wearing an eyepatch, which his wife still hates and his grandchildren- ages three, five and seven- have always loved, as it makes Grandpop look like a pirate. He called them his Miracle Grandbabies, born to a daughter who struggled with alcohol and drug addiction for years- her rock bottom in 1984, a year before she cleaned up for good.
4. But in the end the man couldn't remember ever losing his wallet, either by accident or theft. He said he'd never fished the Nammy, that, in fact, he'd always thought the sport a little boring and so I came to realise there was no story here.
There was no story because
Question 9:
Directions: Read the passage given below and answer the questions that follow by selecting the most appropriate option.
Nammescong Creek flowed into the backs of thighs as I fished, pausing between casts to secure my balance in the current and admire a new hatch of pale yellow mayflies lift from the stream. Over my shoulder, the sun dropped into a farmer's cornfield, the final patch of orange light on the water enough for me to spot the small, vaguely metallic object at my feet. Retrieving it, I ran my thumb over its raised lettering, rubbing away the mud and a string of algae. A name appeared, along with an expiration date. June 1984, I had discovered arrowheads here in the past, so it didn't seem misplaced to find a tool used by modern man to obtain a meal.
2. I took a moment to consider how the card had come to rest in the bed of the Nammy. I thought may there was a story in it. I was curious to know if the owner had lost his wallet while fishing, the whole trip ruined the second he'd inventoried his cash or dug out his license for a game warden. Over time the leather would've rotted into fish food, with a scoured plastic remaining. I wondered how many miles the card might have ridden on spring floods over the past quarter of a century. For all I knew he could've been robbed, the thieves stripping out the money and tossing the billfold away later as they crossed a bridge.
3. Looking him up and phoning, I recited the card number and issuing bank. He laughed, recalling, it as the first credit account he'd ever taken out, a line of imaginary cash in those years when he had no real money. But that finally changed, he explained, after an industrial accident cost him his left eye, the payoff from the plant enabling him to retire eight years earlier than expected and move to a small hobby farm in southern Virginia. He told me a glass eye wasn't his style, so he had taken to wearing an eyepatch, which his wife still hates and his grandchildren- ages three, five and seven- have always loved, as it makes Grandpop look like a pirate. He called them his Miracle Grandbabies, born to a daughter who struggled with alcohol and drug addiction for years- her rock bottom in 1984, a year before she cleaned up for good.
4. But in the end the man couldn't remember ever losing his wallet, either by accident or theft. He said he'd never fished the Nammy, that, in fact, he'd always thought the sport a little boring and so I came to realise there was no story here.
A word in the story that means 'soar' is
Question 10:
Direction: Read the given passage and answer the question that follow by selecting the most appropriate option.
1. The fossil remains of the first flying vertebrates, the pterosaurs, have intrigued paleontologists for more than two centuries. How such large creatures, which I had wingspans from 8 to 12 metres, solved the problems of powered flight, and exactly what these creatures were-reptlies or birds are among the questions scientists have puzzled over.
2. Perhaps the least controversial assertion about the pterosaurs is that they were reptiles. Their skills, pelvises and hind feet are reptilian. The anatomy of their wings suggests that they did not evolve into the class of birds. In pterosaurs, greatly elongated fourth finger of each forelimb supported a wing like membrane. In birds the second finger is the principle strut of the wing. If the peterosaur walked or remained stationary, the fourth finger and with it the wing, could only turn upward in an extended inverted V-shape alongside of the animal's body. Both the ptrosaurs and the birds have hollow bones, a feature that represents a saving in weight. In the birds, however, these bones are reinforced more massively by internal struts.
3. Although scales typically cover reptiles, the pterosaurs probably had hairy coats. The recent discovery of a pterosaur specimen covered in long, dense and relatively thick hair-like fossil material, was the first clear evidence that this reasoning was correct. Efforts to explain how the pterosaurs became air borne have led to suggestion that they launced themselves by jumping from cliffts, by dropping from trees, or even by rising into light winds from the crests of waves.
The pterosaurs flew by