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Son mother magistrate merchant

1. The __________ found a small bag of coins.

2. The __________ said the bag might belong to a poor family.

3. The __________ wanted to keep the coins in the bag.

4. The __________ looked for the bag in the marketplace.

5. The __________ accused the boy of being dishonest.

6. The __________ sent for the mother to tell her story.

7. The __________ gave the bag to the boy.

IV. Applying Reading Skills

Choose the ending that completes each of the following sentences correctly according to the story “Fifteen Honest Coins.” Then mark the letter of the correct ending.

1. Pao Kung, the magistrate, was respected because he was always

a. brilliant and logical.

b. just and honest.

c. kind and merciful.

2. The poor old woman and her son made their living by

a. gathering and selling firewood.

b. growing vegetables.

c. raising chickens.

3. When the poor boy found a bag with fifteen coins in it, his first thought was to

a. hide it.

b. keep it.

c. return it.

4. As a result of returning the bag to its owner, the boy was

a. rewarded for his honesty.

b. accused of being dishonest.

c. ignored completely.

5. At the hearing, the magistrate looked and listened carefully, and as a result, he decided that

a. the boy was telling the truth.

b. the merchant was telling the truth.

c. neither one was telling the truth.

6. You can infer that Pao Kung gave the bag to the boy because

a. he thought the boy needed and deserved it.

b. he thought the merchant wanted the boy to have it.

c. he knew the merchant had lost another bag.

7. The sentence that best expresses the main idea of this story is

a. A lost bag is returned to its owner.

b. A judge makes a dishonest decision.

c. A poor boy is rewarded for his honesty.


by Robb White

The last thing George Dixon expected, or wanted, to meet in an apartment on the seventeenth floor was this huge Great Dane with an old tennis ball in his mouth. When Professor Werner called, “Come on in,” and George opened the door, the only thing that greeted him was that dog who knocked him back against the wall.

“Play with the dog, Dixon. I’ll be out in a minute,” the professor said from somewhere in the apartment.

With that dog, you did what that dog wanted you to do: throw the ball so he could go galloping around and bring it back to you.

George had a lot more on his mind than playing with a dog. Six of his friends in Werner’s archeology class already had tried to get the job. All had been turned down. Now it was his turn, and he wanted to rehearse his speech. But this dog was jumping all over him and the furniture, dropping the drool-soaked tennis ball on his best clothes.

Then the idea came. George took the slimy ball and held it up. “O.K., Fido, you’re so smart; go get this one.”

Instead of throwing the ball, George rolled it gently across the floor. Then with great satisfaction, he watched it roll under a low chest placed in front of an open window. The Great Dane bounded across the room, his tail knocking a vase of flowers off a table.

The dog did not stop, nor even slow down. With sudden horror, George watched him leap from the floor. He cleared the top of the chest and went on, stretched out, flying. Outside a gentle rain was lit by the streetlights far below. The huge dog sailed out into the rainy darkness. For what seemed a century to George, the body of the dog seemed to float in the air. Then it slowly sank out of sight, falling down through the rain.

The Great Dane did not make a sound as he fell toward the pavement, seventeen stories down.

For a moment, George just sat there, frozen with fear for the dog. Then George was on his feet running, looking only at the open, dark, and empty window.

Someone grabbed his arm, stopping him in mid-stride and spinning him around. “Come on!” Professor Werner said. “I’m late for a date, so we’ll talk in the elevator.”

“Wait!” George begged, trying to pull his arm free.

“Come on!” the professor ordered, yanking him to the door.

“No! Wait!” George said, but the professor pulled him out of the room and looked the door. Without a word, Werner dragged George to the elevator, shoved him into it, and pushed the button for the lobby.

It was only after the elevator began to sink that George really understood the very great size of the thing. He could still picture that beautiful dog sailing out into the darkness and almost feel the long, dreadful fall. Some of the windows the dog would fall past, would have lights in them, some would be dark. The pavement would be wet with rain.

Slowly George realized that the professor had been talking to him all the time. They were going to dig in a faraway cave in Kurdistan, Turkey. They might find gold artifacts of some value. They might find clues to the missing chapters in the history of civilization.

George couldn’t listen to the professor, couldn’t pay attention. All George could think about was that great dog with the ball in his mouth, leaping so happily around the room. All he could think of was those huge, soft eyes asking George to throw the ball again – and the dirty trick he had pulled on the dog.

The professor kept talking and talking. It would be rugged in Kurdistan and dangerous. They would explore a cave with a deep hole in the floor, perhaps a thousand feet deep. Down this hole, some prehistoric person may have fallen fifty thousand years ago.

The dog had fallen now, tonight.

Slowly, as the elevator dial went past ten and nine and eight, George tried to erase the picture of that dog. He tried to think about himself – this job he wanted so badly, this meeting with Werner on which everything depended.

Had it been his fault? A dog had made a mistake and leaped out an open window. Had that been his fault? Was he to blame for that? Did he have to admit it? Should he lose this job because of a dog?

George realized slowly that the professor had been asking him a direct question. The elevator dial read three.

“Dixon,” the professor asked again, “what is your definition of courage?”

It took all of George’s mental strength to force his mind to pay attention “Courage, sir? … Er … Courage? … I guess it’s doing the right thing when you don’t have to, even though no one is watching. Nobody sees anything.”

Werner laughed. “That’s a definition I’d never thought of. But it’s not bad. Anyway, this expedition you and I are going on is going to take a lot of it.”

“You and I.” That’s what he’d said. “You and I.”

People would be standing in the rain now, looking down at that beautiful dog lying crushed on the wet pavement.

The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open silently. As Werner started out, George pushed the CLOSE DOORS button and then turned and put both hands on Werner’s shoulders, pushing him back against the wall.

“I killed your dog,” George said.

Werner started at him.

“I was playing with the dog. Throwing the ball. He went out the window – just out – into the rain.”

Werner said nothing as he pushed George’s hands aside and then walked to the front of the elevator and pushed the seventeen button. The elevator going up made no sound at all. Werner stood in silence with his back to George.

“He was a beautiful dog,” George said. “I’m sorry.”

Werner said nothing as the doors opened and he stepped out. Without looking at George or waiting for him, Werner walked down the silent hall. He stopped outside his door, unlocked it, reached in, and turned on the lights. Then, at last, he turned and waited for George.

Feeling sick and seeing again that dark, open window, George walked slowly into the room. A great moving weight struck him from behind, knocking him flat on his face. For a moment, George just wanted to lie there, his face down on the carpet, his body waiting for more of the attack he knew he deserved.

Then something gently nudged him, and he turned his head. There was the Great Dane with that soggy tennis ball in his mouth, his tail wagging away, knocking things off a table.

“It was a mean thing to do to you, Dixon,” Werner said. “But I need to know what sort of man I’m taking on this dangerous expedition.”

George put his arms around the dog’s neck and then got to his feet.

“There’s a balcony outside that window,” Werner said, smiling. “And this mutt loves to show off.”

I. Using Context to Get Word Meaning

In each of the following sentences, a word is underlined. Below the sentence, there are three words or groups of words. Read each sentence. Choose the letter of the word or word group that has the same meaning as the underlined word.

1. The destruction caused by the earthquake was a dreadful sight.

a. messy b. beautiful c. terrible

2. The students were asked to write a definition for each of ten words.

a. meaning b. question c. reason

3. The girl showed great courage when she swam out to rescue the drowning child.

a. fear b. bravery c. foolishness

4. When it was time to go, Jean nudged the friend sitting next to her.

a. quietly asked b. named softly c. gently pushed

II. Predicting Outcomes

The following numbered sentences state predictions that could be made while reading “Fetch!” Choose the clue below each sentence that best supports the prediction, and mark its letter before the sentence.

1. The Great Dane had not really fallen to its death.

a. The body of the dog seemed to float in the air before slowly sinking out of sight.

b. The dog leaped through the window as if he had done it before, and he didn’t make a sound.

c. George watched with horror as the dog sailed over the chest and through the open window.

2. George would confess to the professor that he killed the dog.

a. George wanted the job on the expedition very badly.

b. George wondered whether he would lose the job because of a dog.

c. George told the professor that courage was doing the right thing when you didn’t have to.

III. Understanding Cause-Effect Relationships

When completed, the numbered sentences below will state some cause-effect relationships from the story “Fetch!” Choose the letter of the ending that completes the statement correctly.

1. George wanted to play a trick on the Great Dane because

a. he thought the dog was showing off.

b. he was annoyed at having to play with the dog.

c. he wanted to keep the dog away from the window.

2. George didn’t tell the professor about the dog right away because

a. he didn’t want to upset the professor.

b. he was afraid that he wouldn’t be offered the job.

c. the professor didn’t give him a chance to.

3. The professor played a trick on George because

a. he wanted to find out how badly George wanted the job.

b. he wanted to see how quickly George would react to a shock.

c. he wanted to find out whether George was right for the job.

IV. Applying Reading Skills

Read each of the following sentences and the endings that follow it. Choose the ending that completes the sentence correctly according to “Fetch!” Then mark the letter of the correct ending before the sentence.

1. From George’s reaction to the dog, you can infer that

a. he thought the dog was amusing.

b. he thought the dog was annoying.

c. he thought the dog was beautiful.

d. he thought the dog was smart.

2. George didn’t want to play fetch with the dog because

a. he didn’t know how.

b. he was afraid of Great Danes.

c. he wanted to rehearse his speech.

d. he was afraid of breaking something.

3. The word that best describes the Great Dane is

a. playful. c. fierce.

b. dignified. d. shy.

4. When the dog leaped out the window, George’s first reaction was

a. a feeling of concern. c. a feeling of relief.

b. a feeling of horror. d. a feeling of interest.

5. From George’s thoughts about the accident, you can infer that

a. he felt angry. c. he felt frightened.

b. he felt glad. d. he felt guilty.

6. The professor’s plan to test George depended on the fact that

a. his apartment had a balcony.

b. his apartment had an elevator.

c. his dog was large.

d. George liked dogs.



by Louis Sabin

Reggie Stanley glides toward the center of the ice, building up speed. The blades of his skates flash like silver knives, picking up the rays of a spotlight tracking him across the smooth surface. All at once Reggie lifts off. His arms reach out and his legs stretch wide in a midair giant step. Like a spring, he whirls two-and-a-half times in space before coming back to the ice.

Reggie lands lightly on his right skate, moving backward. The sound of clapping hands around the arena rings in the air. The takeoff, the leap, and the landing are perfect. But Reggie doesn’t even smile at the sound of the clapping. His mind is totally on his performance, which has just begun. He skates on, drawing more applause, until his routine is over. Then the trim, five-foot-three-inch teen-ager leaves the ice.

It has all taken one minute, a minute packed with beauty and excitement. Now Reggie can rest. His face shows the joy he feels at the crowd’s applause, and his smile matches the one worn by his coach, Donald Laws.

Someone shakes Reggie’s hand and says, “You make everything look so easy.”

“I guess the jumps and spins do look easy to anyone who doesn’t know figure skating. They’re supposed to look that way,” Reggie answers as he bends to untie his skates. “But each routine is put together by my coach, who spends about a month on it. Then Coach Laws gives it to me, and I spend about six weeks getting the routine just right for competition. Believe me,” he adds, laughing, “It’s hard work.” Among Reggie’s long string of ice triumphs are the 1974 Eastern and national beginner championships and the 1975 United States men’s beginner title. Although his hopes for the national junior men’s crown and the international competitions were crushed by several ankle injuries, he isn’t discouraged. “That’s the kind of setback you’ve got to expect,” Reggie says. “But I’ll be ready for the next senior men’s competition. There are world championships every year. And, of course, I look forward to the 1980 Olympics – if I’m good enough.”

To be good enough means keeping up with a heavy practice schedule on top of the normal demands of studying for school. Reggie explains, “The way things are, skating and school don’t leave much free time. For example, my normal day goes like this: Get out of bed at 5:45 A.M., eat breakfast, then go down to the rink for an hour of practice. Skaters call it ‘patch time.’ It’s called that because each skater practices on just a small section, or patch, of ice.

“After practice, there’s school till 2:30 P.M. Some days, I head back to the rink after school. Other days, I go home to do some homework before going to practice again. When I go straight to the rink, I skate from three to eight o’clock, with a few rest periods. Then I go home to eat dinner, do homework, and go to bed. On good days, I get to watch a little TV.

“The schedule is even tougher during the competitive season, December through February. I have to travel, compete, practice, and squeeze in reading and other studies so I don’t fall behind at school.”

Reggie didn’t put on a pair of ice skates until he was nine years old – late to begin a career in figure skating. “I liked skating right away, even though I was falling all the time. I wasn’t one of those storybook successes, where the skater gets out on the ice and instantly is jumping and spinning like a professional. But skating really got to me. The feeling of the ice under my blades was like skimming over glass. By the end of my first two-hour session, I could skate all the way around the rink without holding on to the railing.

”My skating improved over the next two years, and when I was eleven, I started taking lessons and practicing seriously. The lesson and practice weren’t much fun. I kept wishing the sport would be just skating the way I felt inside. But I saw there was a lot more to skating than I could teach myself, and I wanted to get better. I also wanted to complete – and win. Well, all that practicing paid off when I won my first competition at eleven. That encouraged me to work harder, and I’ve been lucky enough to keep on winning.”

Reggie accepts the sacrifices he must make in his search for skating honors. “Giving up some things is part of the deal you make with yourself,” he says. “I mean, I’ve wanted to quit skating a few times. Then I could spend more time with friends and do a lot of the things I can’t do now – like other sports, photography, woodworking, and, most of all, fishing. Still, you can’t do everything. Success at figure skating makes up for the bad times and the sacrifices.”

Skating, to Reggie, is more than winning medals and fame. “While I’m out there performing,” he explains, “I sometimes look into the eyes of the audience, trying to give them a feeling of what I’m feeling. I’m skating for them and for me. When I’m skating well, I can feel them pulling for me. It makes me skate even better.”

One key to Reggie’s success is that he likes both free skating and the hard work of the sport, the necessary school figures. Most competitors love free skating with its range of whirling and high-flying movements that set an audience on fire. Few skaters enjoy the painstaking demands of school figures.

“I don’t know why,” Reggie says, “but I don’t mind doing the school figures. It’s sort of peaceful doing those figure-eight patterns in endless circles. Sure, it can get dull in practice, and it doesn’t turn on the crowds. But the judges care about those figures. They make up thirty per cent of your total score.”

Looking back over his sport, sparkling career, Reggie sees it as a mixture of fun and travel, along with some hard moments. “I was really embarrassed when I skated in France, in 1974. I was right in the middle of my program when I took a flop. Of course, I got up and finished. As I left the ice, the people started yelling, ‘Bis! Bis!’ I thought they were laughing at me. Then somebody said that it meant ‘Encore!’ So I went back and repeated a part of my program. Wouldn’t you know it – I fell in the same place as the first time. That was strange, and I felt awful – even though the people clapped.

“But that was only embarrassing, like a bad joke. It was nothing compared to the time when my boot came untied in the middle of my performance. I was moving in perfect time with the music. Then I felt one of my laces loosen, and I started to get scared. I worried, ‘Should I do the next jump? I could twist my ankle, maybe, break it. Should I stop or take the chance?’ Well, I just kept on skating. It’s a good thing I did, because nothing happened and I got high marks.”

Courage, determination, championship skating – that’s Reggie Stanley, who rates top marks for everything he does in life.

I. Using Context to Get Word Meaning

In the blank before each sentence, choose the letter of the word or word group that has the same meaning as the underlined word.

1. The sky was totally clear – there wasn’t a cloud in sight.

a. badly b. completely c. slightly

2. Dianne found that the sacrifices she had made to earn extra money were worth it when she finally bought a new car.

a. things given up b. things taken c. things bought

3. Our painstaking work in rebuilding the antique car resulted in a perfect job.

a. careful b. painless c. fast

4. The audience called the popular singer back for a second encore.

a. additional b. additional c. presentation

cheer performance of an award

II. Nothing Details

Each of the following incomplete sentences is missing a detail from “Ice Star on the Rise.” Complete it by writing in the blank space one of the words or word groups listed below.

Donald Laws eleven New York nine

fifteen France the Olympics Reggie Stanley

1. Reggie is looking forward to competing in _________________ .

2. Reggie’s coach is _______________ .

3. When Reggie was ______________ years old, he put on his first pair of ice skates.

4. He won his first competition at the age of __________________ .

5. Reggie was most embarrassed in ______________ when he fell twice while performing.

III. Recognizing Main Ideas and Supporting Details

Quickly reread the paragraphs in the article “Ice Star on the Rise” as listed below. Then read the sentences that follow the listing. Write M.I. beside the sentence that states the main idea of that section and S.D. before the supporting detail.

1. Reggie’s mind is totally on his performance.

2. Reggie’s takeoff, leap, and landing are perfect.

3. Reggie skates with skill and concentration.

4. Although it looks easy, figure skating is hard work.

5. Reggie’s coach works for a month putting a routine together.

6. Reggie works for six weeks getting a routine just right.

7. Reggie practices skating for an hour every day before school.

8. Reggie practices after school until eight o’clock in the evening.

9. Reggie keeps up a heavy practice schedule.

10. Reggie began skating when he was nine years old and loved it.

11. Reggie enjoys skating and has worked hard to win.

12. Reggie started taking lessons when he was eleven.

13. Success at figure skating makes up for Reggie’s sacrifices.

14. Reggie has no time for other sports or activities.

15. Reggie is willing to work hard at dull school figures.


by Hilary Beckett

My sister Celine spoke in a soft, sweet voice while I – her little sister Mary Claire (littler by a year, anyway) – tended to stumble over my words. Celine had shining curls. They lay around her shoulders in flowing waves. But I was not as lucky; my hair was straight.

My sister Celine had a complexion as smooth as a doll’s skin, whereas I often broke out in pimples. And Celine never, never spilled milk on a clean tablecloth or tripped over her own feet.

So you can imagine that if at times we both happened to be in the same room at the same time, there were often unpleasant comparisons.

“But you are Saturday’s child,” said my mother. She used to sing me a song I hated about Monday’s child being fair of face, and so on, through the entire week to Saturday, the day on which I was born. Saturday unfortunate children had only the chance of having to work for a living. It went like this – I couldn’t forget it if I tried:

Monday’s child is fair of face,

Tuesday’s child is full of grace,

Wednesday’s child is full of woe,

Thursday’s child has far to go,

Friday’s child is loving and giving,

Saturday’s child works hard for a living,

But the child who is born on the Sabbath day

Is blithe and bonny and good – they say.

I never quite knew what “having to work for a living” meant where children were concerned. But I had a strong idea that it was much worse being a Saturday child than being a Sunday child. Sunday’s child – Celine, Who else? – was born “blithe and bonny and good …” (so the stupid verse went – and lucky!

You’d probably think that I would develop a real grudge against Celine because of her beauty and good looks. No, I was a “good” child. And I believed firmly, as I had been taught, that being a Saturday child affected my life in some strange way beyond my control. So instead of hating Celine, I worked on ways to please her.

Most teachers were surprised to learn that we were sisters. “So you’re Celine Dolan’s sister! You’re not a bit like her at all! They said.

Throughout the years of my childhood, I believed I could blame all my minor daily disasters on being a Saturday child. If I couldn’t play ball, being a Saturday child excused me. Saturday’s children easily mislaid lunch boxes, failed to make their beds, or forgot to hang up their clothes. I felt that Saturday’s children also made their parents enjoy – all the more – any Sunday child they were lucky to have.

Actually, I began over the years to hide anything good I did from my parents because of my deep feeling that they wouldn’t believe me. I really didn’t think I was as stupid as I acted. I mean, I was kind to small children and animals. And once in a while, I actually gave Celine some help with her homework. But who knew? Or cared?

There was just one thoroughly delightful secret I kept.

I had a secret place in the garage, the garage behind our house. Our house had once been a farmhouse, and the garage had been a barn. The second floor had probably once been used for storing hay. But now this damp, musty area was empty and forgotten.

Here, in this secret hideaway, I played for hours without being disturbed. The first few times I went there, I worried that no one in the house missed me. There were no calls of “Mary Claire! Mary Claa-err!” Then I suspected that I was giving them a welcome rest. Anyway, they knew I’d always return for meals.

One spring day, I took home from school a handful of clay. We had art once a week, and in art period, I’d been delighted by the material. After we had rolled and pounded and punched the clay, Mr. Winsor, the art teacher, had modeled a head for us. Right before our eyes, he’d shaped the clay from a glob into a globe into a skull into a face! He used a friend of mine for his model, and gradually Lucy’s eyes appeared under Mr. Winsor’s skillful fingers, then her small nose, and then her slightly smiling mouth.

It was a miracle! All the time Mr. Winsor worked so surely, my own hands wanted to try a sculpture of my own. And in the next art period, I did! After that period, I asked Mr. Winsor for some clay, and he told me to help myself and to take some home if I felt like it. When I got home, I took the clay up to my hayloft. I remembered to leave the clay covered with a damp cloth at night – as Mr. Winsor had told us – so that it wouldn’t harden before I had finished my sculpture.

At first, I hadn’t any idea what I was going to try to make. I mostly enjoyed the squishing and the shaping and the molding of the clay. It felt alive, and I knew that it would direct me to some satisfying project.

Finally, I decided to start on a small model of a girl. The clay seemed to like the idea I had chosen. As I worked, a girl appeared, clasping a bunch of flowers in her arms, close to her body. To make her stand firmly, I modeled some grass around her bare feet. There! With the palms of my hands, with the tips and the flat sides of my own fingers, I’d formed a very satisfying little statue out of a lump of clay.

I let the finished clay figure dry. Each afternoon after school, I ran up the garage steps to admire her standing gracefully there in the afternoon sunlight.

I couldn’t figure out what I really wanted to do with her or whether or not I would even permit anyone to see her – until the school’s Open House. Even then I didn’t make up my mind until I’d thought about it a lot.

This girl was the best thing I had ever made in my fourteen years on this earth. I wasn’t at all modest because I knew that she was, without question, an excellent piece of sculpture. I’d been to enough art shows to have a pretty good idea.

I decided to take her to school just on the day of the Open House. This was when all our families visited school one night to see what we had been doing all year in our various classes.

My homeroom teacher praised my work when she saw the little figure. “We absolutely must have Mr. Winsor put it in the kiln after the Open House, Mary Claire, to fire it,” she told me. “Dried clay is very fragile if it hasn’t been fired.”

A card with “Mary Claire Dolan” printed on it was put next to the little figure. My teacher wanted me to call the statue “Spring,” but I thought that was corny. Besides, that marvelous little figure was me, or some part of me. I had made her, and she was a little piece of my innermost feelings. It was proof that somewhere in me there was some talent and even some beauty.

That night I began to get a headache as my parents and Celine and I inched our way around my classroom at a snail’s pace. I felt as if making the little figure with such secrecy had been in some strange way unfair. After all, they knew nothing about her! Then I forced my headache away by repeating to myself. “She’s mine! I made her!”

My mother – at the head of our group – set eyes on her first.

I caught my breath.

“Oh, how beautiful!” exclaimed my mother. Then, thrilling me with her loving voice (surprised though it was), “Mary Claire, you made this? Oh, look at it, Howard! Look, Celine!”

Celine looked, and for a minute, surprise – yes, and envy – flashed across her lovely face. Then she caught herself and turned her eyes from parent to parent, seeing that for once she would have to let me have the center of the stage. “What a terrific surprise, Mary Claire!” she said to me. “What a surprise! Did you mean to make it look like me? Oh, let me see it!”

She grabbed across the table for it, and seemingly by mistake, it slipped out of her hands. The dry clay settled into powdery heaps on the table. My mother gasped with horror.

Celine said, “Oh, I am sorry! But it was an accident!”

At first, I was furious with disappointment. But then, because I had memorized every turn, every curve in the little figure, I knew I could make her from memory again whenever I wished. And I knew I could make other beautiful things. In fact, I had a talent that no one, not even Celine, could take from me.

I felt a little sorrowful, too, about Celine. She would never again be the perfect “Sunday child” I had always imagined. She was human, just like me, and I wouldn’t let myself be bothered by her anymore. And my parents must have made some mental notes on this, too, for they stopped labeling us.

My mother never called me Saturday’s child again. But do you know, I wouldn’t have cared anymore!

I. Using Context to Get Word Meaning

In each of the following sentences, a word is underlined. Below the sentence, there are three words or groups of words. Read each sentence. Then choose the letter of the word or word group that has the same meaning as the underlined word.

1. People like to be around Peggy because of her blithe nature.

a. cheerful b. sad c. serious

2. Eileen wore a bonny dress and received many compliments.

a. long b. plain c. pretty

3. Even when she upsets me, I can’t hold a grudge against my best friend for long.

a. feeling of friendship.

b. feeling of hopelessness

c. feeling of bitterness

4. The store went out of business after a series of disasters.

a. complaints b. misfortunes c. threats

5. We hung our wet clothes in the sun until they were thoroughly dry.

a. completely b. quickly c. strictly

6. The air in the room was musty, so we opened a window.

a. fresh b. cold c. stale

7. Only a miracle can save the dame for the home team.

a. thing that seems unexplainable

b. thing planned in advanced

c. special announcement

8. Tom is well-liked because he is modest about his success as an actor.

a. very proud b. not boastful c. not worried

9. Timmy watched with envy as his friend rode by on a new bike.

a. great curiosity b. much excitement c. bitter longing

II. Understanding Cause-Effect Relationships

In each sentence below, there is a cause and an effect. Read each sentence carefully. If the underlined part of the sentence is the cause, write C. If the underlined part is the effect, write E. Then draw a line around the clue word or words that helped you to find the cause or effect.

1. Mary Claire was a Saturday’s child, so she believed that her life was affected in some strange way beyond her control.

2. Mary Claire made a beautiful statue out of clay, and as a result, she discovered that she had a special talent of her own.

3. A look of envy flashed across Celine’s face because Mary Claire received praise for her statue.

4. Mary Claire knew she could make another statue; therefore, she did not stay angry with Celine for breaking it.

5. Because Mary Claire learned that Celine was not the perfect Sunday child, she no longer let herself be bothered by her sister.

III. Making Comparisons

Choose the ending that completes each of the following incomplete sentences correctly according to the story “Saturday’s Child”. Then choose the letter of the correct ending before the sentence.

1. According to the story, Mary Claire and Celine had little in common except that they

a. were beautiful c. were sisters

b. were friends d. were talented

2. An advantage that Celine had over Mary Claire was that she

a. was prettier c. was more talented

b. was quieter d. was more shy

3. Mary Claire’s advantage over Celine was that she

a. had a soft, sweet voice c. made better grades

b. had a special talent d. had curly hair.

IV. Applying Reading Skills

Read each of the following sentences and the endings that follow it. Choose the ending that completes the sentence correctly according to the story “Saturday’s Child.” Then mark the letter of the correct ending before the sentence.

1. According to the song, Saturday’s child

a. has far to go. c. is loving.

b. is full of woe. d. works hard for a living

2. From things that Mary Claire told about her childhood, you could conclude that being labeled “Saturday’s child” made her feel

a. that she was important. c. that she was lucky.

b. that she was not. d. that she was special.

3. From the way Mary Claire tells her story, you could infer that she thought her parents

a. disliked Celine. c. spoiled Celine.

b. liked Celine better. d. were too strict with Celine.

4. An important event for Mary Claire was the discovery that she

a. had talent as a sculptor.

b. was becoming more like Celine.

c. was really beautiful and graceful.

5. The story “Saturday’s Child” is mainly about

a. a mother’s problems in raising two daughters.

b. two sisters who had nothing in common.

c. a girl’s discovery of her own worth as a person.

6. This story points out that labeling people can be

a. amusing. b. harmful. c. helpful.



By Armando Socarras Ramirez

as told to Denis Fodor and John Reddy

The jet engines thundered as the big plane taxied down the runway at Havana’s José Marti Airport. We huddled in the tall grass nearby. For months, my friend Jorge Pérez Blanco and I had been planning to stow away in a wheel well on this flight, No. 904. It was Spain’s once-weekly, nonstop run from Havana to Madrid. Now, in the late afternoon of June 3, 1969, our moment had come.

We knew we were pretty young to be taking such a big chance. I was seventeen; Jorge, sixteen. But we were both determined to escape from Cuba, and our plans had been carefully made. We knew that departing airliners taxied to the end of the 11,500-foot runway, stopped briefly after turning around, then roared down the runway to take off. We wore rubber-soled shoes to aid us in crawling up the wheels and carried ropes to tie ourselves inside the wheel well. We had also stuffed cotton in our ears as protection against the noise of the four jet engines. Now we lay sweating with fear as the huge plane swung around, the jet blast flattening the grass all around us. “Let’s run!” I shouted to Jorge.

We dashed onto the runway and leaped toward the left wheels of the now stilled plane. As Jorge began to scramble up the forty-two-inch-high tires, I saw there was not room for us both in the single well. “I’ll try the other side!” I shouted. Quickly, I climbed onto the right wheels, grabbed a bar and, twisting and wriggling, pulled myself into the semi-dark well. The plane began rolling immediately, and I grabbed some machinery to keep from falling out. The roar of the engines nearly deafened me.

As we became airborne, the huge double wheels, hot from takeoff, began folding into the compartment. I tried to flatten myself against the overhead wall as they came closer and closer. Then, desperate, I pushed at them with my feet. But they pressed powerfully upward, squeezing me terrifyingly against the roof of the well. Just when I felt that I would be crushed, the wheels locked into place, and the bay doors beneath them closed. So there I was. My five-foot-four-inch, 140 pound frame was wedged in a spaghetti-like maze of pipes and machinery. I could not move enough to tie myself to anything, so I stuck my rope behind a pipe.

Then, before I had time to catch my breath, the bay doors suddenly dropped open again, and the wheels stretched out into their landing position. I held on for dear life, wondering if I had been spotted. Could it be that the plane was turning back to hand me over to Castro’s police?

By the time the wheels began closing again, I had seen a bit of extra space where I could safely squeeze. Now I knew there was room for me, even though I could scarcely breathe. After a few minutes, I touched one of the tires and found that it had cooled off. I swallowed some aspirin tablets for the head-splitting noise and began to wish that I had worn something warmer than my lightweight sport shirt and green pants.

Up in the cockpit of Flight 904, forty-four-year-old Captain Valentin Vara del Rey had settled into the routine of the overnight flight. It would last eight hours and twenty minutes. Takeoff had been normal. But, right after liftoff, something unusual had happened. One of the three red lights on the instrument panel had remained lighted, showing improper closing of the landing gear.

“Are you having difficulty?” the control tower asked.

“Yes,” replied Vara del Rey. “There is a signal that the right wheel hasn’t closed properly. I’ll repeat the procedure.”

The captain re-lowered the landing gear. Then raised it again. This time the red light blinked out.

Dismissing the trouble shown by the red light, the captain turned his attention to climbing to the right cruising altitude. On leveling out, he observed that the temperature outside was 41 degrees below zero. Inside, the flight attendants began serving dinner to the 147 passengers.

Shivering from the bitter cold, I wondered if Jorge had made it into the other wheel well. I began thinking about what had brought me to this desperate situation. I thought about my parents and my girl, Maria Esther, and wondered what they would think when they learned what I had done.

My father is a plumber, and I have four brother and a sister. We are poor, like most Cubans. Our house in Havana has just one large room; eleven people live in it – or did. Food is scarce, and we could only have a small amount. About the only fun I had was playing baseball and walking with Maria Esther along the sea wall. When I turned sixteen, the government had shipped me off to school in Betancourt, a village where sugar cane is grown. There I was supposed to learn welding, but classes were often interrupted to send the students off to plant sugar cane.

Young as I was, I was tired of living in a country that controlled everyone’s life. I dreamed of freedom. I wanted to become an artist and live in the United States, where I had an uncle. I knew that thousands of Cubans had gone to that nation and done well there. As the time approached when I would be forced to join the army, I thought more and more of trying to get away. But how? I knew that two plane loads of people were allowed to leave Havana for Miami each day. But there was a waiting list of eight hundred thousand for these flights. Also, if you signed up to leave, the government looked on you as a gusano – a worm – and life would become even less bearable.

It seemed hopeless. Then I met Jorge at a Havana baseball game. After the game, we started talking. I found out that Jorge and I had the same feelings about Cuba. “The system takes away your freedom – forever,” he complained.

Jorge told me about the weekly flight to Madrid. Twice we went to the airport. Once a DC-8 took off and flew directly over us. The wheels were still down, and we could see into the compartments. “There’s enough room in there for me,” I remembered saying.

These were my thoughts as I lay in the freezing darkness more than five miles above the Atlantic Ocean. By now we had been in the air about an hour, and I was getting lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. Was it really only a few hours earlier that I had bicycled through the rain with Jorge and hidden in the grass? Was Jorge safe? My parents? Maria Esther? Then I blacked out.

The sun rose over the Atlantic as the DC-8 crossed the European coast high over Portugal. With the end of the 5563-mile flight in sight, Captain Vara del Rey began his descent toward Madrid’s Barajas Airport. Arrival would be at 8:00 A.M. local time. The weather in Madrid was sunny and pleasant.

Vara del Rey started to let down his landing gear. A two-hundred-miles-per-hour wind force swirled through the wheel wells. The plane went into its final approach. Then flame and smoke spurted from the tires as the DC-8 touched down at about one hundred forty miles per hour.

It was a perfect landing – no bumps. After a brief postflight check, Vara del Rey walked down the steps and stood by the nose of the plane, waiting for a car to pick up him and his crew.

Nearby, there was a sudden soft plop as my frozen body fell to the ground beneath the plane. José Rocha Lorenzana, a security guard, was the first to reach my crumpled figure. “When I touched his clothes, they were as stiff as wood,” José Rocha Lorenzana said. “All he did was make a strange sound, a kind of moan.”

“I couldn’t believe it at first,” Vara del Rey said when told about me. “But then I went over to see him. He had ice over his nose and mouth. And his color …” As he watched my unconscious body being bundled into a truck, the captain kept exclaiming to himself, “Impossible! Impossible!”

The first thing I remember after losing consciousness was hitting the ground at the Madrid airport. Then I blacked out again and woke up later at a hospital in downtown Madrid. I was more dead than alive. When they took my temperature, it was so low that it did not even register on the thermometer. “Am I in Spain?” was my first question. And then, “Where’s Jorge?” (Jorge is believed to have been knocked down by the jet blast while trying to climb into the other wheel well and to be in prison in Cuba.)

Doctors said later that my condition was like that of a patient undergoing “deep freeze” surgery – a delicate process performed only under carefully controlled conditions. Dr. José Maria Pajares, who cared for me, called my survival a “medical miracle.” I feel lucky to be alive.

A few days after my escape, I was up and around the hospital. I played cards with my police guard and read stacks of letters from all over the world. I especially liked one from a girl in California. “You are a hero,” she wrote, “but not very wise.” My uncle, Elo Fernández, who lives in New Jersey, telephoned and invited me to come to the Unites States to live with him. The International Rescue Committee arranged my passage and has continued to help me.

I am fine now. I live with my uncle and go to school to learn English. I still hope to study to be an artist.

I often think of my friend Jorge. We both knew the risk we were taking and the fact that we might be killed in our attempt to escape from Cuba. But it seemed worth the chance.

One Chance in a Million

Charles Glasgow, a vice president of the Douglas Aircraft Company, which makes the DC-8, says that there is “one chance in a million” that a person would not be crushed when the huge double wheels of the plane are raised. “There is space for a person in there,” he says, “but that person would have to be a contortionist to fit in between the wheels.”

He also says that Armando should have died from both the lack of oxygen and the extreme cold. Since the cruising altitude of Flight 904 was twenty-nine thousand feet, the oxygen content of the air was about half that at sea level. The temperature was 41 degrees below zero. At that altitude, in an unpressurized, unwarmed compartment, a person would normally be conscious for only two or three minutes and live only a short while longer.

Perhaps a Spanish doctor best summed up Armando’s experience by saying, “He survived with luck, luck, luck – many tons of luck.”

I. Using Context to Get Word Meaning

In each of the following sentences, a word is underlined. Below the sentence, there are three words or groups of words. Read each sentence. Choose the letter of the word or word group that has the same meaning as the underlined word.

1. We said good-bye to our departing friends before they went to the airport.

a. entering b. leaving c. calling

2. Judy’s suitcase has a special compartment for jewelry.

a. section b. color c. size

3. The young boy came terrifyingly close to being struck by the bus.

a. frighteningly b. wonderfully c. not very

4. Fifteen people were wedged into the small elevator.

a. invited b. escorted c. squeezed

5. The experiment failed due to improper use of the equipment.

a. careful b. incorrect c. correct

6. The workers were bored because they always followed the same procedure in carrying out their duties.

a. steps b. command c. textbook

7. The amount of radiation you receive should register on this badge.

a. balance b. disappear c. show

II. Noting the Correct Sequence of Events

The sentence below tell, in the words of Armando Socarras Ramirez, some events in his escape from Cuba, but they are not arranged in the order in which they happened in “Stowaway!” Show the correct sequence of events by writing the numbers 1 through 4after each sentence.

a. “The first thing I remember after losing consciousness was hitting the ground at the Madrid airport.”

b. “As we became airborne, the huge double wheels, hot from takeoff, began folding into the compartment.”

c. “Quickly, I climbed onto the right wheels, grabbed a bar and, twisting and wriggling, pulled myself into the semi-dark well.”

d. “By now we had been in the air about an hour, and I was getting lightheaded from the lack of oxygen.”

III. Predicting Outcomes

The following items are based on the predictions you could make as you read the article “Stowaway!” Read each item, and mark your answers as directed.

1. Mark an X beside the fact that supported your prediction that Armando would survive his flight in the wheel well.

a. The story is being told in Armando’s words.

b. He was determined to escape from Cuba.

2. Mark an X beside the fact that supported your prediction that Armando’s eight-hour ride in the wheel well of a DC-8 would be uncomfortable.

a. Takeoff had been normal.

b. The temperature outside was 41 degrees below zero.

3. Mark an X beside the fact that supported Charles Glasgow’s prediction that a person would have only one chance in a million to survive an eight-hour flight in a DC-8 wheel well.

a. A person would die from lack of oxygen.

b. Mr. Glasgow is vice president of Douglas Aircraft.

IV. Applying Reading Skills

Read each of the following incomplete sentences and the endings that follow it. Choose the ending that completes the sentence correctly according to the selection “Stowaway!” Then mark an X beside the correct ending before each sentence.

1. Armando and his friend were willing to risk the escape from Cuba because they

a. could make a better living in Spain.

b. wanted to live in a free country.

c. were in danger of being arrested by the police.

2. All of the facts concerning Armando’s escape lead to the conclusion that

a. he knew this would be his last chance to escape.

b. he had no other choice but to risk his life in an escape.

c. he was not fully aware of the dangers of his escape plan.

3. During the flight, Armando suffered most from the effects of

a. the cramped conditions.

b. the high altitude.

c. the noise of the engines.

4. After considering all the facts of Armando’s experience, the doctors in Madrid concluded that his survival was due to

a. courage. b. luck. c. strength.

5. A possible headline that best expresses the main idea of this selection is

a. “Boy Risks Danger to Reach Freedom.”

b. “Boy Survives Thanks to Modern Medicine.”

c. “Boy Leaves Cuba in Unusual Way.”

6. Although this selection tells an exciting story, it is really nonfiction because

a. all of the events are believable.

b. it has only one important character.

c. it tells about things that really happened.


by Richard B. Lyttle

The scene was Tiger Stadium in Detroit; the occasion, another World Series. But this time, it was not the game that made history. It was the way the game was introduced. The national anthem, sung before the start of the fifth game of the 1988 World Series, was different from the way it had ever sounded before.

José Feliciano strummed his guitar while he sang a soul version of “The Star-Spangled Banner” in a high tenor voice with feeling and spirit – the way he thought it should be sung.

When the national anthem was over, some in the crowd were too stunned to applaud. Some even thought the way it was sung was unpatriotic. Long after the ball game, long after the baseball season ended for the year, the talk about the Feliciano handling of the national anthem kept on. Everyone wanted to know who José Feliciano was.

People soon learned that José Feliciano was someone special in the world of modern music. In five and a half years as a professional, the young Puerto Rican had climbed from poverty to success. The story of José Feliciano is more than one from rags to riches. It is a story of great determination and courage, for José was born blind.

José was the second of eight sons born to the Feliciano family in a poor farming district of Puerto Rico. When José was five, his father quit trying to earn a living from the soil, and the family moved to New York City to the area known as Spanish Harlem.

The Felicianos remained poor, but the children were always laughing and having fun. José, blind and overprotected by his parents, was cut off from much of the fun – the ball games and other play. He had to learn to amuse himself.

Very early in life, the radio and its music became important to him. José learned how to play the concertina and the guitar. Popular singers became José’s heroes. He believed that as a singer, he could earn a living. He was determined not to let his blindness stand in the way of a career in music.

José could not read music, but he had a natural talent for learning music be ear. This talent and hard work began to bring him recognition. Not quite ten years old, José gave his first public appearance at El Teatro Puerto Rico in New York City.

Later, at Charles Evans Hughes High School, José was in demand for school assemblies. He was an expert at copying the styles and voices of famous singers, which delighted his fellow students. These school assemblies gave José a chance to test audience reaction. But he knew that to build his career, he would have to start being paid for singing.

Carrying his guitar in a large paper bag, José began to visit the coffee houses in Greenwich Village, an area in New York City. After entering a coffee house, José would ask the manager for permission to play a few songs. Most managers said they did not have time to listen. José would shrug and ask if he could at least tune his guitar before leaving. Even the busiest manager could not refuse that request. Of course, the guitar would already be tuned. As soon as José pulled it from the paper bag, he would play with such zest that both the manager and customers were delighted.

The customers wanted to hear more of José’s music, and they were willing to pay for it. José was on his way to becoming a professional singer.

While playing in a coffee house, José met Hilda Perez, a premedical student. She encouraged José to seek a career in music.

José was seventeen when he accepted his first professional job at a Detroit nightclub. Then later that year, he returned to New York to play at Gerde’s Folk City. Commenting on José’s performance there, Robert Shelton in the July 13, 1963, issue of The New York Times called José a “ten-fingered wizard who romps, runs, rolls, and picks … his six strings” in a way no one can match. Shelton recommended Feliciano to those who wanted to see the birth of a star. This review brought the singer more public attention, and nightclub bookings began stacking up.

While still at Gerde’s, José met a representative of RCA Victor recording company. Soon after this meeting, José signed an exclusive contract with RCA.

In the fall of 1983, José was performing at a nightclub in Miami, Florida, and there José and Hilda decided to get married. José’s marriage made him want to work harder than ever. He appeared on national television for the first time as a guest on the “Al Hirt Show”, and RCA released his first album, The Voice and Guitar of José Feliciano.

Most reviews of the album were good, but one critic said that José’s original guitar style overshadowed his singing. His voice was not outstanding. It sounded too much like other singers. José remembered that in his high-school performances, he had followed the styles and sounds of other singers. He realized that by doing this, he had slowed the development of a style that was all his own.

About six months after the release of his first album, RCA came out with José’s second album, Bag Full of Soul. Although it drew much praise, José did not feel right about making records. He was more at ease with a live audience. With an audience, he could judge the response as he went along. José also realized that part of the trouble in recording was that his New York manager wanted José’s style to alternate from rock to country music, even when it did not fit his mood or desire.

Wanting to develop his own singing style, he and Hilda decided to move from New York to California. In California, José signed with new managers who agreed to put off recording until he felt ready.

In the meantime, José went on a tour in Latin America. There he sang his songs in Spanish. He was a great success, but better still, the songs in his native tongue proved to be just what he needed to build a style of his own.

RCA International recorded three Spanish albums from José’s tours. The records sold well, and two songs, “La Copa Rota” and “Amor Gitana,” climbed close to the top of the Latin American popularity charts.

After his tour, José played for Spanish-speaking audiences in the United States. Then he agreed to a television show to be shown on Spanish-language stations in the United States.

By the spring of 1988, José was ready to try another English-language album. This, his third by RCA Victor, was called Feliciano! It was his best, and one song in the album carried José to national fame. That song was “Light My Fire,” a tune first sung be The Doors, a rock group. José changed it to a soul song, slow and rhythmic. He never expected it to become a big hit. But a hit it was! “Light My Fire” sounded from radios and juke boxes across the land.

Pictures of and stories about José Feliciano appeared in national magazines. He played before sell-out crowds in cities and towns throughout the United States. Everywhere he went, audiences were impressed by his talent, unusual style, and humor.

It was no surprise when he was invited to sing the national anthem to open the fifth game of the 1988 World Series. The surprise came when he raised his head and sang. Millions of people heard José’s soul version of “The Star-Spangled Banner.” He changed the melody and the meter and filled the song with new meaning.

José’s performance at the World Series sparked his career. In April 1989, he starred in his own television special. Then the next month, the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences made its awards for the best musical recordings for the year 1988. José received two awards, called Grammies. One was for the best new musical artist, and the other was for the best male popular singer.

The sales of José’s fourth English-language album, Souled, reached more than a million dollars. At twenty-four years of age, José was a success by every measure. Few people today have careers that offer as much promise for the future.

Skillful at reading and writing braille, José now spends much of his time composing music. He has learned to play the banjo, bass, piano, organ, harpsichord, mandolin, harmonica, and trumpet.

José also finds time for fun. He likes to swim, ride a bicycle, play baseball, and sail.

Many people, meeting José for the first time, do not realize he is blind. This pleases him. He laughs about the time he and friends rented horses from a stable and went riding. José got a spirited horse, and when they returned to the stable, the owner nearly fainted when he was told José was blind.

José puts great stock in music as an ideal career. He says that to be a successful musician, a person must have talent, have only music on the mind, and give music everything he or she has got. Anyone who has heard José Feliciano knows he gives his music everything he’s got.

I. Using Context to Get Word Meaning

In each of the following sentences, a word is underlined. Below the sentence, there are three words or groups of words. Read each sentence. Choose the letter of the word or word group that has the same meaning as the underlined word.

1. Our school band gained recognition as well as trophy when it took first place in the state contest.

a. a greater number b. favorable c. a lot of

of members attention money

2. Linda plays every game with such zest that she always raises the spirits of her teammates.

a. care b. liveliness c. skill

3. The little girl insisted on having her mother’s exclusive attention.

a. loving and b. every now c. not shared

playful and then with others

4. Since we both like ice skating and skiing, let’s alternate those sports in our weekend activities this winter.

a. only do b. practice c. change back

one of them often and forth

5. We couldn’t understand the man because he spoke in a strange tongue.

a. language b. place c. noise.

II. Analyzing Problems and Solution

The article “Light My Fire” tells about some of the problems in the life and career of José Feliciano. After reading each incomplete sentence below, mark an X in the blank before the ending that correctly completes each statement concerning José’s problems or the ways he solved them.

1. The most serious problem that José had to overcome was his

a. poverty.

b. blindness.

c. singing style.

2. José’s most difficult problem in building his career was that

a. he had no singing style of his own.

b. he had to sing both rock and country music.

c. he did not feel right about making records.

3. The most important step in solving the problem of José’s career was

a. getting a new manager.

b. moving to California.

c. singing in his native tongue.

III. Understanding Cause-Effect Relationships

Before each sentence, write the letter of the ending that completes the cause-effect statement correctly according to the article “Light My Fire.”

1. José became interested in music early in his life since

a. he was cut off from other interests and activities.

b. he wanted to become rich and famous someday.

2. José realized that part of his trouble in making records was that

a. he couldn’t sing according to his mood or desire.

b. He wasn’t being paid enough money to eat well.

3. José realized that the problem of his singing style was caused by his copying other singers, so

a. he moved to California.

b. he worked to develop his own style.

IV. Applying Reading Skills

Read each of the following sentences and the endings that follow it. Choose the ending that completes the sentence correctly according to the selection “Light My Fire.” Then mark the letter of the correct ending before the sentence.

1. José Feliciano first received nationwide fame by singing

a. “America the Beautiful.”

b. “Amor Gitana.”

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