Please read a book during the March holidays and do the following:
- Select a suitable and interesting extract (around 300 words) from the book.
- Give your extract a heading that will attract others to read your extract...
- Include the title of the book
- Include the author of the book
- One question that enables your friends to reflect upon the book/extract
to better understand how to come up with questions for your friends to reflect upon.
Take your holidays to enjoy reading! :)
Rgds,
Spoilt Recorder
Without a pause,McKinley ran to Strawberry Park,up into the hills,and to the tumbled pine.There he found Aspen streched out before he exposed tree roots,head on her forepaws.Lupin was now nowhere in sight.
ReplyDeleteExtract from the book THE GOOD DOG
By ALADDIN PAPERBACKS
Extract contributed by Owyong Zi Xin
(paper tiger or paper snake) The moment I was old enough to play board games, I fell in love with Snakes and Ladders. O perfect balance of rewards and penalties! O seemingly random choices made by tumbling dice! Clambering up ladders, slithering down snakes, I spent some of the happiest days of my life. When, in my time of trial, my father challenged me to master the game of shatranj, I infuriated him by preferring to invite him, instead, to chance his fortune among the ladders and nibbling snakes.
ReplyDeleteAll games have morals; and the game of Snakes and Ladders captures, as no other activity can hope to do, the eternal truth that for every ladder you climb, a snake is waiting just around the corner; and for every snake, a ladder will compensate. But it's more than that; no mere carrot-and-stick affair; because implicit in the game is the unchanging twoness of things, the duality of up against down, good against evil; the solid rationality of ladders balances the occult sinuosities of the serpent; in the opposition of staircase and cobra we can see, metaphorically, all conceivable oppositions, Alpha against Omega, father against mother; here is the war of Mary and Musa, and the polarities of knees and nose ... but I found , very early in my life, that the game lacked one crucial dimension, that of ambiguity - because as events are about to show, it is also possible to slither down a ladder and climb to triumph on the venom of a snake ... Keeping things simple for the moment, however, I record that no sooner had my mother discovered the ladder to victory represented by her racecourse luck than she was reminded that the gutters of the country were still teeming with snakes.
Extract from the book Midnight's children
By Salman Rushdie
Lim Jia Rong
Do you agree that the higher you go in a task or in life, the harder you fall?
THE RECORDER WITH WINGS
ReplyDelete“But he will,” Bob said gloomily. “He didn’t look like the kind of man who takes no for an answer. Not even from a parrot.”
“Still,” Jupiter said, “it gives us a little time.”
“For what?” Pete demanded. “We know what four of
the messages Mr. Silver taught the birds are, yes. But we need all seven. And we’ll never get those parrots back now. Not from that Huganay.”
“You’re right,” Jupiter said at last. “We might as well face it. We didn’t get back Mr. Fentriss’s parrot. We didn’t get back Miss Waggoner’s parrot. We didn’t help Mr. Claudius get back the painting John Silver hid. We’ve
flopped. Our accomplishments are totally negative.”
Frankly, I’d say we’re stuck, all the way round.”
For several minutes they were all silent. At last Jupiter nodded.
“Yes,” he said. “I cannot think of any way now to find the missing parrots or learn the three parts of John Silver’s message that we still do not know. As you say, we’re stuck. Our investigation has proved a dud.”
Another silence ensued, broken only by Blackbeard’s noisy eating of sunflower seeds. At last Bob sighed.
“If only we could have made Captain Kidd. Sherlock Holmes and Robin Hood talk when we had them all together,”
he said. “At least we’d have the whole message.”
“Robin Hood.” Blackbeard cocked an eye down at
them. As usual, he seemed to be listening to everything.
He flapped his wings.
“I’m Robin Hood!” he said clearly. “I shot an arrow as a test, a hundred paces shot it west.”
Three boyish faces turned to stare up at the bird in his cage.
“Did you hear what he said?” Pete asked.
“Do you suppose——” Bob gulped.
“Careful!” Jupiter said. “Don’t excite him. Let’s see if he’ll do it again. Robin Hood!” he said to the mynah bird.
“Hello. Robin Hood.”
“I’m Robin Hood!” Blackbeard said once more. “I shot an arrow as a test, a hundred paces shot it west.” The bird flapped his wings again.
Pete Crenshaw swallowed hard. Even Jupiter looked
awed.
“Remember,” he whispered. “Carlos said he used to
ride round on Mr. Silver’s shoulder, while Mr. Silver was training the parrots?”
“And now I remember!” Bob said excitedly. “When we first got him he repeated Scarface’s message, ‘I never give a sucker an even break’—only we didn’t know then it was
Scarface’s. Mynah birds are sometimes better talkers than parrots and this one seems unusually smart. Do you suppose——”
“We’ll try it,” Jupiter said. He handed Blackbeard a large sunflower seed.
“Sherlock Holmes,” Jupiter said clearly. “Hello, Sherlock Holmes.”
Blackbeard responded to the name with the sentences he had heard before. He flapped his wings and said in a strong English accent: “You know my methods, Watson.
Three sevens lead to thirteen.”
“Write that down, Bob!” Jupiter whispered. The in-junction was unnecessary. Bob was already scribbling as Jupiter tried again.
“Captain Kidd,” he said. “Hello, Captain Kidd.” And he handed Blackbeard another seed. The bird ate it and clicked his beak.
“I’m Captain Kidd,” he said. “Look under the stones beyond the bones for the box that has no locks.”
“Whiskers!” Pete Crenshaw said in awe. “This thing is a tape recorder with wings! He knew all seven of the messages all along!”
“I should have guessed,” Jupiter sounded vexed,
“when he spoke another bird’s message the first time — Scarface’s message, as Bob reminded us.”
Blackbeard was into the spirit of the thing now. As soon as he heard the name Scarface he flapped his wings again.
“I never give a sucker an even break!” he screeched.
“And that’s a lead pipe cinch. Ha-ha-ha!”
He laughed as if at some tremendous joke. But the boys scarcely noticed. Bob was writing frantically. After a
moment he finished and held out a sheet of paper to Jupiter.
“There,” he said. “There are all seven parts of the message.”
Extract from book: Mystery Of The Stuttering Parrot.
Author:Robert Arthur
Alexander Er
Do you think that the trio would succeed in the mystery? Why or why not?
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteA Game of Live Chess
ReplyDelete"Ready?" Harry asked the other two, his hand on the door handle. They nodded. He pulled the door open.
The next chamber was so dark they couldn't see anything at all. But as they stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight.
They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen,which were all taller than they were and were carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. Harry, Ron and Hermione shivered slightly- the towering white chessmen had no faces.
"Now what do we do?" whispered Harry.
"It's obvious, isn't it?" said Ron."We've got to play our way across the room."
Behind the white pieces they could see another door.
"How?" asked Hermione nervously.
"I think," said Ron, "we're going to have to be chessmen."
He walked up to a black knight and put his hand to touch the knight's horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Ron.
"Do we-er-have to join you to get across?"
The black knight nodded. Ron turned to the other two.
"This wants thinking about..." he said."I suppose we've got to take the place of three of the black pieces..."
Harry and Hermione stayed quiet, watching Ron think. Finally, he said,"Now, don't be offended or anything, but neither of you are good at chess-"
"We're not offended," said Harry quickly. "Just tell us what to do."
"Well Harry, you take place of that bishop, and Hermione, you go there instead of that castle.
"What about you?"
"I'm going to be a knight," said Ron.
The chessmen seemed to have been listening, because at thes words a knight, a bishop and a castle turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board leaving three empty squares which Harry, Ron and Hermione took.
"White always plays first in chess," said Ron, peering across the board. "Yes..look.."
A white pawn had moved foward two squares.
Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. Harry's knees were trembling. What if they lost?
"Harry-move diagonally four squares to the right."
Their first shock came when their other knight was taken. The white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay quite still, face down.
"Had to let that happen," said Ron, looking shaken. "Leaves you free to take that bishop, Hermione, go on."
Every time one of their men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron only just noticed that Harry and Hermione were in danger. He himself darted around the board taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.
"We're nearly there," he muttered suddenly. "Let me think -let me think..."
The white queen turned her blank face towards him.
"Yes..." said Ron softly, "it's the only way...I've got to be taken."
"NO!" Harry and Hermione shouted.
"That's chess!" snapped Ron. "You've got to make some sacrifices! I'll make my move and she'll take me - that leaves you to checkmate the king, Harry!"
"But-"
In the end, Harry won the game and Ron and Hermione were safe.
Do you think there could be another way out?
From Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone
J.K.Rowling
Part one:
ReplyDeleteThe Orb
‘Ninety-seven!’ whispered Hermione.
They stood grouped around the end of the row, gazing down the alley beside it. There was nobody there.
‘He’s right down at the end,’ said Harry whose mouth became slightly dry. ‘You can’t see properly from here.’
And he led them between the towering rows of glass balls, some of which glowed softly as they passed …
‘He should be near here,’ whispered Harry, convinced that every step was going to bring the ragged form of Sirius into view of the darkened floor. ‘Anywhere here … really close …’
‘Harry?’ said Hermione tentatively, but he did not want to respond. His mouth was very dry.
‘Somewhere about … here …’ he said.
They reached the end of the row and emerged into more dim candlelight. There was nobody there. All was echoing, dusty silence.
‘He might be …’ Harry whispered hoarsely, peering down the next alley. ‘Or maybe …’ He hurried to look down the one beyond that.
‘Harry?’ said Hermione again.
‘What?’ he snarled.
‘I … I don’t think Sirius is here.’
Nobody spoke. Harry did not want to look at any of them. He felt sick. He did not understand why Sirius was not here. He had to be here. This is where he, Harry had seen him …
He ran up the space at the end of the row, staring down them. Empty aisle after empty aisle flickered past. He ran the other way back past his starring companions. There was no sign of Sirius anywhere, or any hint of a struggle.
‘Harry?’ Ron called.
‘What?’
He did not want to hear what Ron had to say; did not want to hear Ron tell him he had been stupid or suggest that they ought to go back to Hogwarts, but the heat was rising in his face and he felt that as though he would like to skulk down here in the darkness for a long time before facing the brightness of the Atrium above and the other’s accusing stares …
‘Have you seen this?’ said Ron.
‘What?’ said Harry, but eagerly this time – it had to be a sign that Sirius had been there, a clue. He strode back to where they were all standing, a little way down row ninety-seven, but found nothing except Ron staring at one of the dusty spheres on the shelf.
‘What?’ Harry replied glumly.
‘It’s – it’s got your name on.’ said Ron.
Harry moved a little closer. Ron was pointing at one of the small glass spheres that glowed with a dull inner light, tough it was very dusty and appeared not to have been touched for many years.
‘My name?’ said Harry blankly
Part two:
ReplyDeleteHe stepped forwards. Not as tall as Ron, he had to crane his head to read the yellowish label affixed to the shelf right beneath the dusty glass ball. In spidery hand writing was written a date of some sixteen years previously, and below that:
S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D.
Dark Lord
and(?)Harry potter
Harry stared at it.
‘What is it?’ Ron asked sounding unnerved. ‘What’s your name doing down here?’
He glanced along at the other labels on that stretch of shelf.
‘I’m not here,’ he said, sounding perplexed. ‘None of the rest of us are here.’
‘Harry, I don’t think you should touch it,’ said Hermione sharply, as he stretched out his hand.
‘Why not?’ he said. ‘It’s something to do with me right?’
‘Don’t Harry,’ said Neville suddenly. Harry looked at him. Neville’s round face was shinning slightly with sweat. He looked as though he cold not take any more suspense.
‘It’s got my name on,’ said Harry.
And felling slightly reckless, he closed his fingers around the dusty ball’s surface. He had expected it to feel cold, but it did not. On the country, it felt as though it had been lying in the sun for hours, as though the glow of light within was warming it. Expecting, even hoping, that something dramatic was going to happen, something exciting that might make their long and dangerous journey worthwhile after all, Harry lifted the glass ball down the shelf and stared at it.
Nothing whatsoever happened. The others moved in closer around Harry, gazing at the orb as he brushed it free of the clogging dust.
And then, from right behind them, a drawling voice spoke.
‘Very good, Potter. Now turn around, nice and slowly, and give that to me.’
(John Zhou)
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
J.K.Rowling
What do you think will happen?
YangRui said,
ReplyDelete(The suspicious mother)Just then a man came up to us. He was a small man and he was pretty old, probably seventy or more. He raised his hat politely and said to my mother, “Excuse me, I do hope you will excuse me…” He had a fine white moustache and bushy white eyebrows and a wrinkly pink face. He was sheltering under an umbrella which he held high over his head.
“Yes?” my mother said, very cool and distant.
“I wonder if I could ask a small favour of you,” he said. “It is only a very small favour.”
I saw my mother looking at him suspiciously. She is a suspicious person, my mother. She is especially suspicious of two things – strange men and boiled eggs. When she cuts the top off a boiled egg, she pokes around inside it with her spoon as though expecting to find a mouse or something. With strange men, she has a golden rule which says, “The nicer the man seems to be, the more suspicious you must become.” This little old man was particularly nice. He was polite. He was well spoken. He was well dressed. He was a real gentleman. The reason I know he was a gentleman was because of his shoes. “You can always spot a gentleman by the shoes he wears,” was another of my mother’s favourite sayings. This man had beautiful brown shoes.
“The truth of the matter is,” the little man was saying, “I’ve got myself into a bit of a scrape. I need some help. Not much I assure you. It’s almost nothing, in fact, but I do need it. You see, madam, old people like me often become terribly forgetful…”
My mother’s chin was up and she was staring down at him along the full length of her nose. It was a fearsome thing, this frosty-nosed stare of my mother’s. Most people go to pieces completely when she gives it to them. I once saw my own headmistress begin to stammer and simper like an idiot when my mother gave her a really foul frosty-noser. But the little man on the pavement with the umbrella over his head didn’t bat an eyelid. He gave a gentle smile and said, “I beg you to believe, madam, that I am not in the habit of stopping ladies in the street and telling them my troubles.”
“I should hope not,” my mother said.
I felt quite embarrassed by my mother’s sharpness. I wanted to say to her, “Oh, Mummy, for heaven’s sake, he’s a very very old man, and he’s sweet and polite, and he’s in some sort of trouble, so don’t be so beastly to him.” But I didn’t say anything.
Extract from the book The Umbrella Man and Other Stories
By Roald Dahl
What do you think will happen next? What do you think 'I' was feeling then?
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteWhat is my teacher?
ReplyDeleteCloser to me, on the right, was another open door. The horrible sound seemed to be coming from there.
I decided low was the only way to go. Still on my belly, I slithered down one side of the hall until I had reached the doorway.
I shivered. That noise was like a tight running its claw down a blackboard; it felt like aluminum foil against my teeth. What could be making it?
When I finally got the nerve to sneak a look around the bottom edge of the door, I saw Mr. Smith sitting at a little makeup table, looking in a mirror. Stacy was right. The man really was handsome. He had a long lean face with a square jaw, a straight nose, and cheekbones to die for.
As I watched, Mr. Smith pressed his fingers against the bottom of his eyes. Suddenly he ran his fingertips to the sides of his head, grabbed his ears, and started peeling off his face!
I gasped. Fortunately, the horrible noises coming from the room drowned it out. I wanted to get up and run, but I was too terrified to move. Whatever Mr. Smith was I was pretty sure the face he was slowly uncovering wasn’t anything that had been born on earth! He stripped away the mask I could see that he had skin the colour of limes. His enormous orange eyes slanted away from his nose like a pair of butterfly wings. A series of muscular looking ridges stretched from his eyes down to his lipless mouth.
Soon the handsome face of ‘Mr. Smith’ was lying on the dressing table. The creature that had been hidden underneath it began to message his face-his real face. ‘Ahhh,’he said. “What a relief!” he smiled to himself in the mirror, showing two rounds of rounded purplish teeth.
I had noticed that the noise was coming from a pair of flat pieces of plastic hanging on the wall when Mr. Smith started ‘'singing’’ along with the song that I realized the plastic sheets were speakers. That hideous sound was music! Or at least what passed for music wherever my alien teacher had come from.
I was still trying to find the courage to start backing up when the alien turned down the music and flipped a switch on the table. The mirror began to shimmer. Suddenly the image of ‘Mr. Smith’ was replaced by another alien face, this one just as horrible. Beyond the face I could see a big room, with other alien bustling around. From the look of things, I figured this must be a spaceship.
This face in the mirror said something that sounded low and growly.
“Broxholm reporting,’’ said Mr. Smith.
The face in the mirror made some growly noises.
“It is good to hear our mother tongue,” said Broxholm. ''I cannot wait to return to the ship and have this language implant removed, so I can speak the true tongue, and not this barbaric garble.”
I thought, Whose language are you calling barbaric?
But before I could get too angry, I heard something else that sent a cold chill down my spine.
‘The testing process is proceeding on schedule,’ said Broxholm.”Before long I will selected the students I wish to bring back for study.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. My teacher was an alien! Even worse, he had come to earth to kidnap kids and take them into space!
What do you think will happen?
Extract from my teacher is an alien
By Bruce Coville
Lim Zi Hui
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteTHE ESCAPE ROUTE
ReplyDeleteBy noon the courier had still not return. Perhaps he had not even located Jonathan. As a knight, he could be off somewhere distant on a quest. I had no way of knowing. A tray of breakfast food had been delivered to my chambers earlier, but all I could choke down was one sausage. The porridge now sat in the corner, congealing.
I stared out onto the lawn. The falconer was there working his birds. Every few moments one of them flew dangerously close to my window but turned before smacking into the thick glass. I feared I might go mad if I sat there any longer, so I decided to join the falconer on the lawn. The guards were surprised by my sudden appearance in the hall and scrambled to their feet. I did not give them a backward glance. Fortunately they dared not stride too close to the birds so I was given wide berth. The birds were used to my presence, but to a stranger they could be deadly.
“What troubles you, Prince?” the falconer asked, not turning around.
“How do you know I am troubled?”
He cocked his head towards the birds, circling a few yards above us. “The birds can always tell. They have sensed your distress. In addition, I do not recall seeing the castle guards posted to your care since you were a babe.”
I sighed. “You would not believe if I told you.”
“Try me,” he replied, holding out his arm. A falcon landed neatly on the thick leather strap and accepted a small piece of fresh meat before flying off.
Before I could stop myself, the whole story came pouring out. Princess Rose and the invisible barrier, Percival and his lies. The castle guards. When I was finished, the falconer watched the birds circle for another moment, then said, “You shall have to move quickly.”
“I know,” I replied. “Every hour seems like a year to me.”
He shook his head. “It is more than that. Your father has asked me to prepare the birds. He is planning a hunt for tomorrow.
I gasped. “He shall find the castle!”
“You will have to reach Rose before that happens.”
“What can we do? I can run swiftly, but I cannot outrun the guards. They would surely pursue me.”
“I shall help you,” the falconer said. He walked a few paces farther from the castle, keeping his eyes focused on the air so the guards would think he was just following the patterns of the birds. I followed.
Extracted from Twice Upon A Time: Sleeping Beauty,the one who took the really long nap
By Wendy Mass
Renata Dharma
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteTHE DECISION
ReplyDeleteDanger lies before you, while safety lies behind,
Two of us will help you, whichever you could find,
One among us seven will let you move ahead,
Another will transport the drinker back instead,
Two among our number holds only nettle wine,
Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.
Choose, unless you wish to stay here for evermore,
To help you give your choice, we give you these clues four:
First, however slyly the poison tries to hide,
You will always find some on the nettle wine’s left side;
Second, different are those who stand on either end,
But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend;
Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,
Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;
Fourth, the second left and the second on the right
Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.
Hermione let out a great sigh and Harry, amazed, saw that she was smiling, the very last thing he felt like doing.
“Brilliant," said Hermione. This isn't magic- it's logic- a puzzle. A lot of the great wizards haven’t got an ounce of logic, they’d be stuck here forever.”
“But so will we, won’t we?”
“Of course not,” said Hermione. “Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles; three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire and one will get us back through the purple.”
“But how do we know which to drink?”
“Give me a minute.”
Hermione read the paper several times. Then she walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to herself and pointing at them. At last, she clapped her hands.
“Got it,” she said. “The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire- towards the Stone.”
Harry looked at the tiny bottle.
“There’s only enough there for one of us,” he said. “That’s hardly one swallow.”
They looked at each other.
Question: What should they do?
Extracted from Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone by J.K. Rowling
Li Zhijian
Who are those people at the toadstools?
ReplyDeleteThey stood beneath the trees and peered about. Small freckles of sunshine lay here and there on the ground, but not very many, for the trees were so thick. It was dim and green there, and a small bird nearby sang an odd little song over and over again.
"It really is magic!"said Frannie suddenly. "I can feel magic about somewhere, can't you Beth? Can't you Joe?"
"Yes,"said the others, and their eyes shone with excitement. "Come on!"
They went down a little green path that looked as if it had been made for rabbits, it was so small and narrow.
"Don't let's go too far," said Joe. "We had better wait till we know the paths a bit better before we go deep into the wood. Look about for a place to sit down and have our sandwiches, girls."
"I can see some wild strawberries!"cried Beth, and she knlet down and pressed back some pretty leaves, showing the others deep red strawberries below.
"Let's pick some and have them with our picnic too," said Frannie. So they picked hard, and soon had enough to make a fine meal.
"Let's sit down under that oak tree over there," said Joe. "It's all soft moss beneath. It will be like sitting on a green velvet cushion."
So they sat down, and unpacked their sand wiches. Soon they were munching away happily, listening to the dark green leaves overhead saying 'Wisha-wisha' all the time.
And it was whilst they were in the middle of their picnic that they saw a peculiar thing. Frannie noticed it first.
Not far off was a clear piece of soft grass. As Frannie looked at it she noticed bumps appearing on it. She stared in surprise. The bumps grew. The earth rose up and broke in about six places.
"Look!" said Frannie, in a low voice, pointing to the piece of grass. "What's happening over there?"
All three of them watched in silence. And then they saw what it was. Six big toadstools were growing quickly up from the ground, pushing their way through, and rising up steadily!
"I have never seen that happen before!" said Joe, in astonishment.
"Shh!" said Beth. 'Don't make a noise. I can hear footsteps."
The others listened. Sure enough they heard the sound of pattering feet and little high voices.
Extracted from "The Enchanted Wood"
Author:Enid Blyton
What/Who do you think caused the noise?
Yuki Ling
Helena Yeo Said:
ReplyDeleteWhich one should I choose?
"Wow,this looks awesome,"marveled Kate as she flicked through the pages of one brochure."As well as the regular classes in drama,dance,and music,you can also study costume design,makeup,lighting,stage management,prop design..."
"Which one is that?"Sophie asked.She sounded interested,Ellie was pleased to note.
"It's in your hometown-Manchester," Kate said,tossing the brochure over to her. "Here have a look."
Sophie picked up the brochure Lara had been looking at and started flicking through.
"And this school in right in central London,"Grace added, reading through a printed sheet.
"We could smuggle you into our dorm every night," Ellie joked."Rent free.And you could catch the train into school from Richmond!"
"This one in Edinburgh sounds good too!"Isabelle said,leafing through another bochure."Oh,this pictures!What a beautiful place to live!"
"Yeah, but it's miles from us,"Bryony pointed out."We'd never see you again."
Sophie looked up from the Manchester brochure."Of course you would,"she scoffed."I'll be on telly every night in a soap opera or costume drama.I've always fancied myself in one of those corsets.Or I might star in a touring production of Annie.Tell you what,I'll make sure you lot all have front-row tickets,my treat!"
Ellie laughed.She was so pleased that she'd accidentally found Sophie's stash of brochures!At last, Sophie was starting to sound really positive about life beyond The Royal Ballet School.
extract from:Sophie's flight of fancy
by:Alexandra Moss
Helena Yeo
What do you think did Sophie choose in the end?
ReplyDeleteBy:Brian Wee (4) Date:15/03/10
ReplyDeleteThe Intrigue Place
Part :1
Max woke up with a start, and felt sore and tired and confused.
“Where am I?” she said out loud.
She was in a comfortable bed, with her jacket and clothes neatly folded at her feet. She looked down and frowned when she saw that she was in a pair of pink flannel, cloud-covered pajamas. The room was like a cartoon-coloured adventure world. There were beanbags, toys, mobiles that twirled from the ceilings, whole shelves of lollipops and fruit, and three drinking fountains sticking out from the wall with ‘Raspberry’, ‘Lemonade’, and ‘Orange Juice’ written on top of them.
“What is this place?” she whispered to herself. “And where’s my backpack?”
Frantically, Max looked around and saw the pack sitting on the table next to her. She picked it up, and after going through it, was relieved to see that everything was still there, including her notebook.
Then she remembered.
She’d been kidnapped!
Not only that, there was someone asleep in a bed across the room! She put her backpack on, stood up, took a super-large, round, rainbow-coloured from a shelf nearby and tiptoed to the other bed. She wasn’t going to be kidnapped without letting them know how much trouble she could be.
She stood by the bed and held the lollipop up high.
“Okay, you kidnapper, take this!” she cried.
Max brought the lollipop down just as the person in the bed rolled over and narrowly avoided being hit.
“Hey, what are you doing? Can’t a person get a little sleep?” someone said from under the blankets.
Max knew that voice.
“Linden? Is that you?” she asked.
“Who else do you think it is?” he mumbled.
“I though you were a kidnapper.” Max shrugged, holding the lollipop against her chest and feeling a little guilty.
Linden threw the covers off his face.
“A little relaxed for a kidnapper, don’t you think?”
“Sorry,” Max apologized.
Linden sat up.
“I could have been killed by a giant lollipop. I was hoping for a more glamorous ending to my life,” he said.
By:Brian Wee (4) Date:15/03/10
ReplyDeleteThe Intrigue Place
Part :2
Max put down the lollipop and rubbed her forehead as she sat down on the bed next to him.
“I feel like someone’s been using my head for a foot ball.”
“Yeah, me too,” said Linden. “Whoever grabbed us must have given us something to knock us out.”
Max suddenly looked worried.
“Who do you think they are? What do you think they want with us?”
“I’m not sure,” said Linden. “but from what Francis and Valerie said about Mr. Blue, I’m sure he’s involved somehow and that it’s no accident that it happened just as we found ‘The Space and Time retractor Meter’.”
Max took out her notebook and tried to think calmly.
“Okay, here’s how things stand. We’re trapped in a house, location unknown. We’ve been kidnapped by strangers, separated from the only people we know in this country and,” Max looked at her watch, “we’ve got about three hours left before we need to go back home.”
“Not only that,” said Linden, looking down at his clothes in horror, “I’m wearing bright blue pajamas with toy trains on them.”
Max glared at Linden.
“I hardly think what you’re wearing is …”
Max was interrupted by the door opening. A woman dressed in a smart suit walked in.
“I’m Ms. Peckham,” she said gently with a friendly smile.
Max leapt off the bed and threw her hands on her hips. There were so many things that she was angry about, she wasn’t sure where to start, but realizing she did feel silly in the pink pajamas, she began there. “Where are my clothes?”
“In the wash. They got a little grubby during your journey here, and I thought you would feel more comfortable in those.”
“I was very comfortable in what I had on before.”
“You would get them back soon, but first Mr. Blue would like to see you.”
Suddenly, what Max was wearing didn’t seem important.
“He would, would he? Well, I would like to see him too. I’ve got a few things to tell him.”
Linden tried to reach for Max’s sleeve to tell her to calm down, but she stepped away from him and stalked out of the room. Seconds later, she reappeared remembering she had no idea where she was, and glowered at Ms. Peckham.
“I guess you’ll have to lead the way,” she said.
By:Brian Wee (4) Date:15/03/10
ReplyDeleteThe Intrigue Place
Part :3
“Certainly, but I suggest you put on your slippers first. It can get cold on the marble floors,” said Ms. Peckham as she picked up two pairs of slippers.
One pair were shaped like fluffy yellow ducks, while the other pair were two baby bears.
Linden sighed. “This is going to do nothing for my reputation as a man of fashion.”
It was hard to know who Max was angry at, Mr. Blue or Linden. Unfazed, Linden put on his slippers and backpack and did everything he could not to catch Max’s eye.
Outside the room, there was a small humming machine that looked like a mini-hovercraft waiting for them.
Max and Linden stared.
“This is our ‘Mobile People Mover’. Or MPM. It’s really quite safe,” smiled Ms. Peckham. “And it is a bit of a way
Max and Linden looked at each other. They weren’t quite sure whether to trust her, but they knew they had little choice. Max shrugged her shoulders and stepped into the MPM. Linden followed, and they held onto the sides, not knowing what to expect. Ms. Peckham got in after them and, with a gentle whirring sound, the MPM took off and sailed across the floor and up to the high ceilings like a small glider.
“This is awesome!” said Linden.
The MPM sailed through brightly lit corridors filled with sensors that opened and closed doors as they approached. Television screens as flat as paper were hung every few yards along the walls, and robotic arms moved out from the walls to do everything from watering plants to opening and closing curtains. There were also vending machines snugly nested into walls containing everything from lollipops to hot snacks, drinks and even games. At the end of one corridor, they glided into a large glass-roofed area that resembled an overgrown greenhouse with trees, birds, and amazingly, a waterfall.
“This is Mr. Blue’s nature reserve. If you look closely enough, you’ll see a giant panda and her baby,” said Ms. Peckham proudly. “Mr. Blue is a great lover of animals and is one of the few people to successfully breed pandas in captivity. He is on the verge of completing a series of experiments that will hopefully bring pandas back from the brink of extinction.”
By:Brian Wee (4) Date:15/03/10
ReplyDeleteThe Intrigue Place
Part :4
Animal conservation! This didn’t sound like the evil Mr. Blue that Max and Linden had been told about.
The MPM then turned and headed for the lip of the waterfall.
Linden yelled, “Watch out! We’re going to crash!”
Ms. Peckham smiled at them and said, “Hold on.”
Max and Linden grabbed on to each other and closed their eyes.
Max shouted, “I know it’s a bad time, Linden, but there’s something I want to tell you.”
“What did you say?” Linden yelled back.
“There’s something I want to tell you,” Max shouted again, as the thundering wash of the water came closer and closer.
“I can’t hear you,” Linden cried.
But it was too late. Just then Max and Linden screamed as the MPM headed straight into the waterfall.
When they came to a standstill, Max and Linden opened their eyes and saw Ms. Peckham standing on a shiny metal platform next to their hovering MPM.
“I told you it was perfectly safe, and here we are,” she beamed.
Max and Linden realized they hadn’t died in the waterfall, and tried to take in their new surroundings. They were high above the ground in a metallic room that looked like a darkened aircraft hanger. Behind Ms. Peckham was a large, silver door that seemed to be vibrating with a pulsing light. There were no walls, just the door with a camera fixed above it, a platform, and a seemingly endless abyss on either side. Nothing else could be seen except a window of light above them, which they assumed was the back of the waterfall they had just navigated.
“But how…” began Linden.
“With this,” said Ms. Peckham, holding out a small electronic device. “Just before we passed through the waterfall, I activated the hydrogen atoms in the water so that they stood aside. That’s why we aren’t wet, to answer your question.”
Linden’s mouth fell open. “Come in,” said Ms. Peckham gesturing towards the door.
As Max and Linden stepped out of the MPM onto the platform, the camera followed their every move. Ms. Peckham put her palm against the door. The light coming from it pulsated strongly before it opened, as if it had read her palm print as some kind of identity pass.
Max was impressed, but tried as hard as she could not to show it.
By:Brian Wee (4) Date:15/03/10
ReplyDeleteThe Intrigue Place
Part :5
“This Mr. Blue has got a lot of explaining to do,” said Max as she waited for Ms. Peckham to lead the way.
Linden moved close behind her.
“Max, could you do me a favour?” he asked. “We are talking about an evil mastermind here. Can you avoid saying anything that’s going to upset him?”
Max kept walking.
“As if I’d do that,” she said raising her eyebrows.
“Follow me,” said Ms. Peckham, still beaming.
Max wondered how anyone could smile so much.
As they followed Ms. Peckham through the door and down a dimly lit, metal passageway, Max leaned next to Linden.
“Do you still have that recording device that Ella gave you?” she whispered.
“It’s a CTR.”
“Whatever. Have you got it?”
“Yeah. It’s in my pack,” Linden replied.
“Switch it on,” said Max. “We might need it later.”
Linden felt around in his pack and turned on the CTR.
They reached another door that again opened when Ms. Peckham placed her hand on it. Inside was what looked like a brightly coloured amusement park. There were TV monitors and video screens everywhere, and all the latest console and games, including some that neither Max nor Linden had seen before. Lining the walls were shelves containing the largest selection of DVDs that they’d ever seen, including all of Linden’s favourites.
“There’s ‘Batman’, ‘Indiana Jones’, ‘Mission Impossible’, old and new versions.” Linden walked over to them. “I could stay here forever.”
“Well, we don’t have forever,” said Max, grabbing his wrist.
A bright red swung around and a smiling man sat behind a large wooden desk, staring at them. Two familiar looking men stood at his side.
“Sorry about to my unusual invitation to my home,” the seated man said in a smooth TV advertisement voice. “It may have seemed a little abrupt, but it was necessary for everyone’s safety.”
He picked up a plate from the table beside him and held it out to them.
“Raspberry doughnut,” he offered.
Linden’s stomach rumbled at the sight of the doughnut, and Max put her hands on her hips.
By:Brian Wee (4) Date:15/03/10
ReplyDeleteThe Intrigue Place
Part :6
“What I’d like is an explanation,” she said. “Starting with who you are.”
“Of course, first things first. Please, have a seat,” he said.
Linden’s face fell as the man put the plate back on the table.
Before Max could protest, he pressed the button of a remote control devise on the arm of his seat and two very comfortable chairs rolled across the room from behind them, gently forcing them to sit down.
Max and Linden looked at each other, puzzled.
“Did those chairs just move across the room?” asked Linden.
“I think we have enough to think about without asking that,” said Max.
The man took a chocolate bar from his pocket and unwrapped it.
“I’m Mr. Blue,” he announced, taking a bite of the bar.
Max’s and Linden’s eyes widened. He was much younger than they expected and looked like a regular guy, not someone who broke up families and wanted to control the world.
Linden looked longingly at the raspberry doughnut and the chocolate bar.
Mr. Blue smiled.
“Sorry for my rudeness. Maybe you’d like something a little more substantial?”
Mr. Blue clapped his hands. Two chefs in tall white hats walked through the door carrying steaming plates of food, which they placed on the desk between Max, Linden and Mr. Blue.
Linden nearly from the smell of it.
“Roast lamb and vegetables,” he whispered. “My favourite.”
Max looked down at her plate and saw her favourite dish Thai vegetable curry.
Extracted from "Spy Force"(In Search of the Time and Space Machine)
Author:Deborah Abela
1. Would you like to stay in a place like what Mr. Blue is living in? Why?
2. What does the word ‘abyss’ mean?
3. How did Mr. Blue know Max and Linden’s favourite dish?
(Fansinating Castle) Lots of other kids lived in our neighborhood, which was known as the Tracks, and after school we all played together. We played red-light-green-light, tag, football, Red Rover, or nameless games that involved running hard, keeping up with the pack, and not crying if you fell down. All the families who lived around the Tracks were tight on cash. Some were tighter than others, but all of us kids were scrawny and sunburned and wore faded shorts and raggedy shirts and sneakers with holes or no shoes at all.
ReplyDeleteWhat was most important to us was who ran the fastest and whose daddy wasn’t a wimp. My dad was not only not a wimp, he came out to play with the gang, running alongside us, tossing us up in the air, and wrestling against the entire pack without getting hurt. Kids from the Tracks came knocking at the door, and when I answered, they asked, ‘Can your dad come out and play?’
Lori, Brian, and I, and even Maureen, could go pretty much anywhere and do just about anything we wanted. Mom believed that children shouldn’t be burdened with a lot of rules and restrictions. Dad whipped us with his belt, but never out of anger, and only if we back-talked or disobeyed a direct order, which was rare. The only rule was that we had to come home when the street-lights went on. ‘And use your common sense,’ Mom said. She felt it was good for kids to do what they wanted because they learned a lot from their mistakes. Mom was not one of those fussy mothers who got upset when you came home dirty or played in the mud or fell and cut yourself. She said people should get things like that out of their systems when they were young. Once an old nail ripped my thigh while I was climbing over a fence at my friend Carla’s house. Carla’s mother thought I should go to the hospital for stitches and a tetanus shot. ‘Nothing but a minor flesh wound,’ Mom declared after studying the deep gash. ‘People these days run to the hospital every time they skin their knees,’ she added. ‘We’re becoming a nation of sissies.’ With that, she sent me back out to play.
Extract from the book The glass castle : a memoir
by Jeannette Walls
1)What do you think will happen next? 2)Why do you think the Kids from the Track wil ask if the author father can come out to play?
This observation furnished the detective food for thought, and meanwhile the consul went away to his office. Fix,left alone,was more impatient than ever,having a presentiment that the robber was on board the Mongolia(Ship's name).If he had indeed left London intending to reach the New World he would naturally take the route via India,which was less watched and more difficult to watch than that of the Atlantic.But Fix's reflections were soon interrupted by a succession of sharp whistles,which announced the arrival of the Mongolia.The porters and fellahs rushed down the quay,and a dozen boats pushed off from shore to go and meet the steamer.Soon her gigantic hull appeared passing along between the banks,and eleven o'clock struck as she anchored in the road.She brought an unusual number of passengers,some of whom remained on deck to scan the picturesque panorama of the town,while the greater part disembarked in the boats,and landed on the quay.
ReplyDeleteFix took up a position,and carefully examined each face and figure which made its appearance .Presently one of the passengers,after vigorously pushing his way through the importunate crowd of porters,came up to him and politely asked if he could point out the English consulate,at the same time showing passport which he wished to have visaed.Fix instinctively took the passport,and with a rapid glance read the description of the bearer.An involuntary motion of surprise nearly escaped him,for the description in the passport was identical with that of the bank robber which he had received from Scotland Yard.
"Is this your passport?"asked he.
"No,it's my master's."
"And you master is-"
"He stayed on board."
"But he must go to the consul's in person,so as to establish his identity."
"Oh,is that necessary?"
"Quite indispensable."
"And where is the consulate?"
"There,on the corner of the square,"said Fix,pointing to a house two hundred steps off.
"I'll go and fetch my master,who won't be much pleased,however,to be disturbed."
The passenger bowed to Fix,and returned to the steamer.
The detective passed down the quay,and rapidly made his way to the consul's office,where he was at once admitted to the presence of that official.
"Consul,"said he,without preamble,"I have strong reasons for believing that my man is a passenger on the Mongolia."And he narrated what had just passed concerning the passport.
"Well.Mr. Fix."replied the consul;"I shall not be sorry to see the rascal's face;but perhaps he won't come here-that is,if he is the person you suppose him to be.A robber doesn't quite like to leave traces of his flight behind him;and,besides,he is not obliged to have his passport countersigned."
"To have his passport visaed?"
"Yes.Passports are only good for annoying honest folks,and aiding in the flight of rogues.I assure you it will be quite the thing for him to do;but I hope you will not visa the passport."
"Why not? If the passport is genuine I have no right to refuse."
"Still,I must keep this man here until I can get a warrant to arrest him from London."
"Ah,that's your look-out.But I cannot-"
The consul did not finish his sentence,for as he spoke a knock was heard at the door,and two strangers entered,one of whom was the servant whom Fix had met on the quay.
(To be continued...)
How is my teacher?
ReplyDeleteThis year’s teacher was named Claudia Delaney. She wrote it on the blackboard the first day. Not just Miss Delaney, but the whole name, Claudia Delaney.
The Owls were sitting where we always sat, in the back seat of each of the five rows. I was in the middle between Russell and Nick. I had a copy of Black Mask Magazine in my lap and was reading it below the desk so Miss Delaney couldn’t see it. As she stretched to write, her skirt pulled tight.
“Ming!” Russell said beside me. I looked up. Russell nodded toward Miss Delaney. “Hubba, hubba,” I whispered. Miss Delaney turned around. “Do you five boys always sit back there?” she said. “Yes,” Nick said. “You would be the Owls,” Miss Delaney said. “Hoot, hoot,” I said. Everyone laughed, including Miss Delaney.
Billy was always scared of teachers. And Manny was a Cape Verdean coloured guy and was very careful about everything. Mostly Russell and I and Nick were the ones that talked. “I’ve heard about you,” Miss Delaney said. “We’re not so bad,” I said. “Oddly enough,” Miss Delaney said, “that’s what I heard.”
Some of the girls giggled. None of us liked that too much. We wanted people to think we were pretty bad. Miss Delaney went to the board and wrote: “The boy walked to school.”
“We’ll start this morning,” Miss Delaney said, “by reviewing some of the basic rules of grammar that you might have forgotten over the summer. What are the subject and the verb of this sentence?” All of us groaned. “I don’t like it either,” Miss Delaney said, “but we have to be able to speak the language.”
I put up my hand. She nodded at me. “We can already speak the language,” I said. “How come we got to speak it a certain way?” “Manners, mostly,” she said. “Like table manners, and appearance. It’s mostly about other people’s impression of you.” “What if you don’t care about impressing other people?” I said. She smiled. “It’s sort of a matter of freedom,” she said. “As long as you know how to speak the language, you can choose the way you want to speak it,” she said. “But if you don’t know correct English, you can only speak what you know.”
She was different. Most teachers got annoyed with me when I asked questions like that. Sometimes I was really trying to figure it out. Sometimes I did it to annoy them. Miss Delaney didn’t get annoyed. She gave me a serious answer. And she was very pretty too.
Extract from the book Edenville Owls
by Robert B. Parker
Do you think the teacher will be annoyed if the author wanted to annoy her purposely?
A Failed Sleepwalk
ReplyDeleteMam'zelle decided that she would now go to Miss
Theobald, as she felt that no policeman would be inclined to believe a telephone call from her about three locked-up burglars. So she padded along the passage to the stairs-but just as she was about to descend them, she caught sight of yet another night-wanderer.
This time it was Anne-Marie, who was now putting on her sleep-walking act in imitation of Felicity, and was on her way to wake up Mam'zelle. Man'zelle could not believe her eyes when she saw yet another sleep-walker. No, really she must be going mad! There could not be so many people rushing about at night in the school passages!
Anne-Marie saw Mam'zelle standing under one of the dimmed lamps, and recognized her. At first she got a shock, for she had expected Mam'zelle to be in bed and not ambling about. But as soon as she was sure it really was Mam'zelle, she acted exactly as if she was walking in her sleep. She glided by Mam'zelle, her eyes set and staring just as Felicity's had been, muttering a poem.
Mam'zelle hesitated to grab her, for she had heard it was bad to awaken sleep-walkers suddenly. So she did not touch Anne-Marie, but followed her, whispering under her breath.
"the poor child! Here is another who walks in her sleep! I will follow her."
Anne-Marie led Mam'zelle to a fine dance, and finally ended up outside the second-form dormitories. The girl on guard there gave the alarm when she saw the two figures coming, and there was a terrific scrambleas bottles and tins and plates were pushed under beds. The candles were blown pout and girls got hurriedly into bed, those who didn't belong to that dormitory squeezing into wardrobes and under beds.
Anne-Marie, still acting, wandered into the second-form dormitory, meaning to walk to the end and back-but she fell over an empty bottle, and gave an exclaimation. Mam'zelle followed her into the room and switched on the light.
Anne-Marie, dazed by the sudden light, blinked in confusion, watched in amazement by girls in bed. Then, remembering her sleep-walking act, she once again became glassy-eyed and glided between the beds.
The girls sat up, giggling. "She's pretending! " called Antoinette."Ah, no. She walks in her sleep, the poor, poor child," said Mam'zelle. "What can we do for her?"
"I will cure her, ma tante," said the irrepressible Antionette, and leaped out of bed.She took a jug of cold water and threw it all over poor Anne-Marie, who, angry and wet, turned and gave Antionette such a ticking off that all the girls knew at once that she certainly had not been sleep-walking before, but only play-acting. Mam'zelle realized it too, and tried to haul Anne-Marie out of the room, scolding her vigorously, and telling her to go and chsnge her wet things at once. So engrossed she was that she entirely failed to see any signs of the midnight feast, nor did she notice any of the girls squashed into the wardrobes or under the beds.
Why do you think Mam'zelle thought she was going mad?
Extracted from: Fifth Formers of St Clare's by Enid Blyton.
~Celeste Ling
He stumbled to a halt, clutching at the stone wall, listening with all his might, looking around, squinting up and down the dimly lit passageway.
ReplyDelete"Harry, what're you -?"
"It's that voice again - shut up a minute -"
". . . soo hungry . . . for so long . . ."
"Listen!" said Harry urgently, and Ron and Hermione froze, watching him.
". . . kill . . . time to kill . . ."
The voice was growing fainter. Harry was sure it was moving away - moving upward. A mixture of fear and excitement gripped him as he stared at the dark ceiling; how could it be moving upward? Was it a phantom, to whom stone ceilings didn't matter?
"This way," he shouted, and he began to run, up the stairs, into the entrance hall. It was no good hoping to hear anything here, the babble of talk from the Halloween feast was echoing out of the Great Hall. Harry sprinted up the marble staircase to the first floor, Ron and Hermione clattering behind him.
"Harry, what're we -"
"SHH!"
Harry strained his ears. Distantly, from the floor above, and growing fainter still, he heard the voice: ". . . I smell blood. . . . I SMELL BLOOD!"
His stomach lurched -
"It's going to kill someone!" he shouted, and ignoring Ron's and Hermione's bewildered faces, he ran up the next flight of steps three at a time, trying to listen over his own pounding footsteps -
Harry hurtled around the whole of the second floor, Ron and Hermione panting behind him, not stopping until they turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.
"Harry, what was that all about?" said Ron, wiping sweat off his face. "I couldn't hear anything. . . ."
But Hermione gave a sudden gasp, pointing down the corridor.
"Look!"
Something was shining on the wall ahead. They approached slowly, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches. the chamber of secrets has been opened. enemies of the heir, beware.
"What's that thing - hanging underneath?" said Ron, a slight quiver in his voice.
As they edged nearer, Harry almost slipped - there was a large puddle of water on the floor; Ron and Hermione grabbed him, and they inched toward the message, eyes fixed on a dark shadow beneath it. All three of them realized what it was at once, and leapt backward with a splash.
Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring.
For a few seconds, they didn't move. Then Ron said, "Let's get out of here."
"Shouldn't we try and help -" Harry began awkwardly.
"Trust me," said Ron. "We don't want to be found here."
But it was too late. A rumble, as though of distant thunder, told them that the feast had just ended. From either end of the corridor where they stood came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs, and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people; next moment, students were crashing into the passage from both ends.
The chatter, the bustle, the noise died suddenly as the people in front spotted the hanging cat. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood alone, in the middle of the corridor, as silence fell among the mass of students pressing forward to see the grisly sight.
Then someone shouted through the quiet.
"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"
It was Draco Malfoy. He had pushed to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes alive, his usually bloodless face flushed, as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat.
Question : Do you think Draco Malfoy will survive? Why or why not?
Extracted from: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by J.K. Rowling
Victoria :)
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteRonald said...
ReplyDeleteIt is UNFAIR!
Not all bees sting. The family Meliponidae is an order of stingless bees, who have developed other kinds of defenses to protect their hives against intruders. But when a bee does sting a human being, the bee loses its life. The stinger is barbed, and human skin is thick enough that the bee can’t withdraw it once it has been inserted, so the bee struggles until it rips itself free, leaving the stinger and parts of its body behind. This is always fatal to the bee. The person who was stung merely has a sore spot for a day or two unless the person is allergic to bee venom. Then the sting will be fatal both ways.
My father died because a man had some kind of argument with his boss, got incredibly drunk in the middle of the afternoon, and drove his Jeep Arroyo into the back end of my father’s Honda at seventy-four miles an hour; the police said he never even tried to brake, they didn’t know if he was suicidal or what. He didn’t die, though. He got pretty messed up, but he didn’t die. My father died. He never even made it to the emergency room.
My mother asked me if I wanted to go to the funeral with her, but I said no; I stayed at my grandmother’s instead, staring at the TV while I colored my way through an entire coloring book she bought me, Animal of the Alphabet, I remember that. B for Bear. T for Tiger. Q for Quail of course, what would any of those books do without quail? Z for Zoo. I colored hard; the pages were soft and dented from the wax of the crayons, new crayons; I remember that, too. When my mother came to pick me up, my grandmother met her on the front walk and hugged her, and asked how the funeral had been.
Closed casket, my mother said.
Are you all right? my grandmother said.
I’ve been better, my mother said. Her fancy black blouse was all wrinkled. Her eyes were red. How’s Dana?
I had come up behind them on the walk; I put my arms around her from behind and squeezed. I’ve been better, I said, and they laughed a little, kind of startled, and then my mother cried. At that point I hadn’t actually seen my father for, I don’t know, a while. But I still wanted to have him in the world. I was sorry the guy who hit him hadn’t died. I didn’t tell anyone this, but I was. I wanted it to be fatal both ways.
Question:Why do you think Dana wished her dad would still live even though she didn't go to her dad's funeral?
Extract from the book Kissing the Bee
By Kathe Koja
-RONALD :)
"An Unusual friend"
ReplyDelete===================
It’s April and the sun is warm. I’m sitting on a rock with Faro, way out at the mouth of the cove. The water below the rock is deep enough for Faro to swim, even now when it’s low tide. I scrambled out over the jumble of black, slippery rocks to get here.
The sun glitters on the water. Everthing’s so bright and alive and beautiful. I’m back in Senara, back at our cove, back where I belong. Faro and I have been talking for ages. Not about anything special, just talking. That’s one of the best things about Faro. We start a conversation and it flows so easily as if we’re packing up each other’s thoughts. Sometimes we are.
Faro’s tail is curled over the edge of the rock, and every so often he pushes himself off with his hands, and plunges into the transparent water to refresh himself. The muscles in his arms and shoulders are very powerful, and he can pull himself up again out of the water on to the rock again without much effort.
Faro can’t stay out of the sea for too long. The skin of his tail, which is usually as glistening and supple as sealskin, grows dry and dull. Faro says that if the Mer get too much sun on their skin, it cracks, and then they get sun-sores which are hard to heal.
But I’m sure that Faro’s able to stay out of the sea longer these days. Maybe it’s something to do with Faro growing older, and more resilient.
My thoughts drift away. Luckily, Faro’s one of those people you can be silent with, too. He hauls himself up on to our rock again, dripping and glistening.
A new summer is about to begin. For my brother Conor and me, there’ll be days and days of swimming and sunbathing and long evening walks with Sadie. Sadie loves swimming, too, and with only her nose above the water she looks more like a seal than a Golden Labrador. In the evenings we’ll build driftwood bonfires on the sand, and have barbecues where we cook mackerel which we’ve caught of the rocks.
Thoughts to ponder : What do you think Faro was?
Extract from : The Deep
Author : Helen Dunmore
Extracted by : Mavis Toh
A suspicious evening meal
ReplyDeleteHave you ever wished you lived under a different roof? I mean in a different house, flat, basement, with different people, wallpaper, toilets? Course you have. Who hasn’t? But I bet you’ve never been traded for another kid, have you? Well, guess who has, yes, the one and only Jiggy McCue. And by my own parents would you believe!
The first I heard about it was one Wednesday, towards the end of my mother’s idea of an evening meal – the latest vegetable dish she’d failed to learn how to make from a celebrity chef with a stupid haircut.
“Jiggy,” said Mum.
“Mother,” I replied, pressing the pain in my chest.
“We have something to tell you,” she said.
“Text me,” I said. “I’m going to my room to lie down.”
“You’ll stay right there while I talk to you,” said she.
I’ll leave it to you, Peg,” said Dad, getting up.
“Oh no you won’t,” said Mum. “Sit down.”
Dad sank back in his chair. This was starting to sound serious.
“What’s going on?” I asked, trying not to seem nervous.
Mum took a deep breath, which made me even more nervous. Deep breaths before speaking in my house mean Heavy Subjects are about to zoom Jigward. Had I been expelled from school while I was filing my nails? Was my pathetic chocolate ration going to be reduced to zero? Was Mum leaving Dad for man?
But even though it was my mother’s deep breath, it was my father who got in first with the news. The first bit of it anyway.
“Jig,” he said. “We’re going to swap you for another kid.”
I gawped at him. He was joking, of course.
“You’re joking, of course,”
He smiled. “Nope. Perfectly serious.”
“You’re going to swap me for another kid?” I said.
“Another boy.” This was Mum. She was smiling too now.
“You’re going to swap me for another boy?”
“It was your mother’s idea,” Dad said, trying to shift the blame and falling.
I gawped some more, at both of them. What kind of parents would swap their own son?
“What kind of parents would swap their own son?” I asked
Think about this question: Do you think Jiggy will persuade his parents not to swap him with another boy?
Extract from book: Kid Swap
Author:Michael Lawrence
Lee Jia Ying (19) 5Graciousness
Worm for a Snack?
ReplyDeleteLook, said Billy to himself, staring down at the fried worm on the plate. Be sensible. How can it hurt me? I’ve eaten four already. Tom was scared. He’s like that. He eggs other people on, but he never wants to do anything himself.
“Give up?” asked Alan.
“Come on, “ said Joe. “ We haven’t got all day.”
“Five more minutes,” said Alan. “ Then I win.”
“ There’s no limit,” said Billy. For the first time he wondered what he’d do if he lost. Where could he ever get fifty dollars? But how could he eat ten more? Big, fat, ugly, soft, brown things. He couldn’t ask his father for fifty dollars.
He heard Alan and Joe whispering together.
“ He’s gonna quit.”
“ Yeah. I knew he’d never make it when I bet with him. He talks big. Him and Tom are just the same. But they never do anything.”
Billy gritted his teeth, glopped on ketchup, mustard, salt, grated cheese, whatever was on the crate, anything, everything, and then grabbed up the worm and tore it apart with his hands, stuffing it into his mouth, chewing and chewing and swallowing, gulping…………..
Then, panting, he reached out and wiped his gooey hands on Alan’s trousers and grinned messily up at him and said,
“There. Five.”
Question:How far will you go to gain the respect of friends–will you agree to do anything they ask you to do or is there a limit?
Extract from the book How to eat fried worms
By Thomas Rockwell
Jet Tan
(Continued....)
ReplyDeleteThe other,who was his master,held out his passport with the request that the consul would do him the favour to visa it.The consul took the document and carefully read it,whilst Fix observed,or rather devoured,the stranger with his eyes from a corner of the room.
"You are Phileas Fogg?"said the consul,after reading the passport.
"I am."
"And this man is your servant?"
"He is;a Frenchman,named Passepartout."
"You are from London?"
"Yes."
"And you are going-"
"To Bombay."
"Very good,sir.You know that a visa is useless,and that no passport is required?"
"I know it,sir."replied Phileas Fogg;"But I wish to prove,by your visa,that I came by Suez."
"Very well,sir."
The consul proceeded to sign and date the passport,after which he added his official seal.Mr Fogg paid the customary fee,coldly bowed,and went out,followed by his servant.
Question:Will Fix,the detective,arrest Mr Phileas Fogg?Why or why not?
ReplyDeleteExtract from "Around The World In 80 Days"
Written by Jules Verne,with a foreword by Laurence Yep
The next day was foggy. Everything on the farm was dripping wet. The grass looked like a magic carpet. The asparagus patch looked like a silver forest.
ReplyDeleteOn foggy morning, Charlotte’s web was truly a thing of beauty. This morning each thin strand was decorated with dozens of tiny beads of water. The web glistened in the light and made a pattern of loveliness and mystery, like a delicate veil. Even Lurvy, who wasn’t particularly interested in beauty, noticed the web when he came with the pig’s breakfast. He noted how clearly it showed up and he noted how big and carefully built it was. And then he took another look and he saw something that made him set his set his pail down. There, in the center of the web, neatly woven in block letters, was a message. It said: SOME PIG!
Lurvy felt weak. He brushed his hand across his eyes and started harder at Charlotte’s web.
I’m seeing things,” he whispered. He dropped to his knees and uttered a short prayer. Then, forgetting all about Wilbur’s breakfast, he walked back to the house and called Mr. Zukerman.
“I think you’d better come down to the pigeon,” he said.
“What’s the trouble?” asked Mr. Zukerman. “Anything wrong with the pig?”
“N-not exactly,” said Lurvy. “Come and see for yourself.”
The two men walked silently down to Wilbur’s yard. Lurvy pointed to the spider’s web. “Do you see what I see?” ha asked.
Zukerman started at the writing on the web. Then he murmured the words “Some pig.” Then he looked at Lurvy. Then they both began to tremble. Charlotte, sleepy after her night’s exertions, smiled as she watched. Wilbur came and stood directly under the web.
Extract from “Charlotte’s Web”
Written by EB White
Joshua Tan Yong Hao said.....
ReplyDeleteMeanwhile, Grover started groaning in the grass. I wanted to yell at him to shut up, but the way I was getting tossed around, if I opened my mouth I'd bite my own tongue off.
"Food!" Grover moaned ,
The bull-man wheeled towards him, pawed the ground again, and got ready to charge. I thought about how he had squeezed the life out of my mother, made her disappear in a flash of light, and rage filled me like high-octane fuel. I got both hands around one horn and I pulled backwards with all my might. The monster tensed, gave a surprised grunt, then - snap!
The bull-man screamed and flung me through the air. I landed flat on my back in the grass. My head smacked against a rock,. When I sat up, my vision was blurry, but I had a horn in my hands, a ragged bone weapon the size of a knife,
The monster charged.
Without thinking, I rolled to one side and came up kneeling. As the monster barrelled past, I drove the broken horn straight into his side, right up under his furry rib cage.
The bull-man roared in agony. He flailed, clawing at his chest, then began to disintegrate - not like my mother, in a flash of golden light, but like crumbling sand. blown away in chunks by the wind, the same way Mrs Dodds had burst apart.
The monster was gone.
The rain had stopped. the storm still rumbled, but only in the distance. I smelled like livestock and my knees were shaking. My head felt like it was splitting open. I was weak and scared and trembling with grief. I'd just seen my mother vanish. I wanted to lie down and cry, but there was Grover, needing my help, so I managed to haul him up and stagger down into the valley, towards the lights of the farmhouse. I was crying, calling for my mother, but I held on to Grover - I wasn't going to let him go.
The last thing I remember is collapsing on a wooden porch, looking up at a ceiling fan circling above me,moths flying around a yellow light and the stern faces of a familar-looking bearded man and a pretty girl,her blonde hair curled like cinderella's.They both looked down at me,and the girl said,'He's the one.He must be.'
'Silence,Annabeth,'the man said.'he's still conscious.Bring him inside.'
Extract from "Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief
Written by Rick Riordan
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteMarvellous medicine here I go!
ReplyDeleteIn the kitchen, George put the saucepan on the stove and turned up the gas flame underneath it as high as it would go. 'George!' came the awful voice from the next room. 'It's time for my medicine!' 'Not yet, Grandma,' George called back. 'There's still twenty minutes before eleven o'clock.' 'What mischief are you up to in there now?' Granny screeched. 'I hear noises.' George thought it best not to answer this one. He found a long wooden spoon in a kitchen drawer and began stirring hard. The stuff in the ot got hotter and hotter. Soon the marvellous mixture began to froth and foam. A rich blue smoke, the colour of peacocks, rose from the surface of the liquid, and a fiery fearsome smell filled the kitchen. It made George choke and splutter. It was a smell unlike any he had smelled before. It was a brutal and bewitching smell, spicy and staggering, fierce and frenzied, full of wizardry and magic. Whenever he got a whiff of it up this nose, firecrackers went off in his skull and electric prickles ran along the backs of his legs. It was wonderful to stand there stirring this amazing mixture and to watch it smoking blue and bubbling and frothing and foaming as though it were alive. At one point, he could have sworn he saw bright sparks flashing in the swirling foam. And suddenly, George found himself dancing around the steaming pot, chanting strange words that came into his head out of nowhere: '
Fiery broth and witch's brew
Foamy froth and riches blue
Fume and spume and spoondrift spray
Fizzle swizzle shout hooray
Watch it sloshing, swashing, sploshing
Hear it hissing, squishing, spissing
Grandma better start to pray.'
Question: Will George feed his Grandma with this ' medicine' he made?
Extract from " George's Marvellous Medicine"
Written by Roald Dahl
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDelete"We're going to find a mummy," Jeff said. He came to a stop so abruptly that his cousin Debbie bumped into him, kicking snow against his leg and down the top of his boots.
ReplyDelete"Very funny," she said. She brushed snow from her top of her camera case. "I suppose we'll find him hopping down the road in the snow. You know, that's why I never liked those old movies with mummies walking after people, because their legs are wrapped together, and ----"
"I'm not kidding," Jeff said. "Last time I was here visiting grandma and grandpa I found out there's an old deserted house near here that's supposed to have a mummy hidden somewhere inside it, and there's a ten-thousand-dollar reward for anyone who finds the mummy! Think about it Debbie. We could get the reward!"
Debbie looked suspicious. "Grandma and grandpa have never said a word about the house with a mummy in it"
Q: Will Debbie finally see a mummy? What kind of adventure will it be?
Extracted from the book The House on Hackman's Hill.
Written by: Joan Lowery Nixon
Kenneth Hong:
ReplyDeleteJust then a man came up to us. He was a small man and he was pretty old, probably seventy or more. He raised his hat politely and said to my mother, “Excuse me, I do hope you will excuse me…” He had a fine white moustache and bushy white eyebrows and a wrinkly pink face. He was sheltering under an umbrella which he held high over his head.
“Yes?” my mother said, very cool and distant.
“I wonder if I could ask a small favour of you,” he said. “It is only a very small favour.”
I saw my mother looking at him suspiciously. She is a suspicious person, my mother. She is especially suspicious of two things – strange men and boiled eggs. When she cuts the top off a boiled egg, she pokes around inside it with her spoon as though expecting to find a mouse or something. With strange men, she has a golden rule which says, “The nicer the man seems to be, the more suspicious you must become.” This little old man was particularly nice. He was polite. He was well spoken. He was well dressed. He was a real gentleman. The reason I know he was a gentleman was because of his shoes. “You can always spot a gentleman by the shoes he wears,” was another of my mother’s favourite sayings. This man had beautiful brown shoes.
“The truth of the matter is,” the little man was saying, “I’ve got myself into a bit of a scrape. I need some help. Not much I assure you. It’s almost nothing, in fact, but I do need it. You see, madam, old people like me often become terribly forgetful…”
My mother’s chin was up and she was staring down at him along the full length of her nose. It was a fearsome thing, this frosty-nosed stare of my mother’s. Most people go to pieces completely when she gives it to them. I once saw my own headmistress begin to stammer and simper like an idiot when my mother gave her a really foul frosty-noser. But the little man on the pavement with the umbrella over his head didn’t bat an eyelid. He gave a gentle smile and said, “I beg you to believe, madam, that I am not in the habit of stopping ladies in the street and telling them my troubles.”
“I should hope not,” my mother said.
I felt quite embarrassed by my mother’s sharpness. I wanted to say to her, “Oh, Mummy, for heaven’s sake, he’s a very very old man, and he’s sweet and polite, and he’s in some sort of trouble, so don’t be so beastly to him.” But I didn’t say anything.
Extract from the book The Umbrella Man and Other Stories
By Roald Dahl
Question:What do you think was the favour that the old man asked for?
Bernice Lim:
ReplyDeleteThe Climb in the Giant Peach
It was quite a large hole, the sort of thing an animal about the size of a fox might have made. James knelt down in front of it, and poked his head and shoulders inside. He crawled in. He kept on crawling. This isn't a hole, he thought excitedly. It's a tunnel! The tunnel was damp and murky, and all around him there was the curious bittersweet smell of fresh peach. The floor was soggy under his knees, the walls were wet and sticky, and peach juice was dripping from the ceiling. James opened his mouth and caught
some of it on his tongue. It tasted delicious. He was crawling uphill now, as though the tunnel were leading straight towards the very centre of the gigantic fruit. Every few seconds he paused and took a bite out of the wall. The peach flesh was sweet and juicy, and marvelously refreshing. He crawled on for several more yards, and then suddenly-bang-the top of his head bumped into something extremely hard blocking his way. He glanced up. In front of him there was a solid wall that seemed at first as though it were made of wood, except
that it was very jagged and full of deep grooves. ‘Good heavens!’ he said. ‘I know what this is! I’ve come to the stone in the middle of the peach!’ Then he noticed that there was a small door cut into the face of the peach stone. He gave a push. It swung open. He crawled through it, and before he had time to glance up and see where he was, he heard a voice saying, ‘Look who’s here!’ And another one said, ‘We’ve been waiting for you!’ James stopped and stared at the speakers, his face white with horror. He started to stand up, but his knees were shaking so much he had to sit down again on the floor. He glanced behind him, thinking he could bolt back into the tunnel the way he had came, but the doorway had disappeared. There was now only a solid brown wall behind him.
Question:Have you encountered a situation like this before?
Extracted from the book: James and the Giant Peach
Author: Roald Dahl
Nicole Chua:
ReplyDeleteThe undecidable decision
But at that moment, someone came hurrying over to their table.
"Elizabeth?"
"Joan!"
Elizabeth was always pleased to see her special friend. But Joan was older and had gone up to the second form quite quickly, so the two girls saw less of each other these days. Elizabeth knew that if she did well at lessons this term she, too, would go up in September. Then she and Joan would be together again. Elizabeth was looking forward to that.
"I've got a message for you," said Joan softly. She was always quietly spoken. "It's from WIlliam and Rita. They would like you to come along to their study after tea, please."
Elizabeth frowned in surprise. William and Rita were head boy and the head girl of Whyteleafe School.
"Are you coming too? Are all the monitors coming?" Elizabeth asked. She was puzzled beacuse there was no school Meeting due for a day or two yet.
Sometimes all the moniters were called in if there was something important to discuss before the Meeting. The Meeting was held once a week. All pupils had to attend. It was a kind of Parliament. At Whyteleafe it was the boys and girls themselves who made many of the important rules and saw that they were applied fairly. When problems arose, they sorted out themselves. The teachers rarely had to be involved.
"No, they just want you," said Joan. "I don't know what it's about."
Elizabeth rushed through her tea after that. What did William and Rita want to see her about ?
Extracted from: The naughtiest girl keeps a secret
Author: Enid Blyton
Question: What did William and Rita want to ask Elizabeth about?
Attack of the pirates!
ReplyDelete“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,this is your captain speaking.”
There wasn't a loudspeaker in our cabin down in rat class, but we could hear the tinny echo of the captain's voice coming from a speaker out in the gangway. We were just about to step out of the door when his voice came over the public address system.
“What's he saying, Dad?”
“Shhh! Listen!”
We listened. The captain didn't sound too good. His voice sounded a bit tense and throaty, as if he suddenly had a rather difficult emergency to deal with.
“Ahem. Yes. This is your captain speaking, ladies and gentlemen, and I regret to tell you that we have a somewhat difficult situation on our hands.”
We stood still, craning to hear, wondering what he would say next.
“You don't think it's an iceberg do you?” Clive whispered.( He seemed a bit obessed with icebergs. We should never have rented that Titanic DVD.)
“ In the tropics?” Dad said.
“ It might have got lost.”
“Shh!”
The loudspeaker crackled. Another voice, somewhere in the background growled, “ Get on with it, we haven't got all night.”
“ Yes, I'm rather afraid, ladies and gentlemen- though I don't want to panic, there's no necessity for that. If we all keep our heads and stay calm, there's no reason for anyone to get hurt. But the fact is that our ship has been taken over, in what i can only describe as an act of piracy-”
“Never mind all that,” the voice in the background said gruffly. “Just tell them what they have to do.”
Q: What do you think they have to do?
Extracted from: Sea Legs
Author: Alex Shearer
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteOliver, between a fast walk and run, kept up with the rapid strides of the house-breaker as well as he could.
ReplyDeleteThey passed Hyde Park Corner, and were on their way to Kensington, when Sikes relaxed his pace, and seeing an empty cart coming in their way, he asked the driver very civilly if he would give him a lift.
The man told them to jump up.
They passed kensington, Hammersmith, Chiswick,Kew Bridge, and Brentford. At last they came to a public-house,and here the cart stopped.
Sikes jumped down hurriedly, lifted Oliver down with the same warning glance, and said goodbye to the man. Then after a litlle more walking,he turned into an old public-house, where Sikes ordered cold meat for dinner and Oliver fell asleep.
When he woke up it was quite dark, and he found that Sikes had arranged for another lift in a cart going in his way. Sikes took his hand and helped him up, and off they started in a few moments. It was very dark very cold, and Oliver sat huddled together in a corner of the cart.
After a long drive, Sikes got down once more, and, after a tedious walk through mud and darkness, he turned into a solitary house, all ruinous and decayed. he house was in darkness too; but when Sikes softly pressed the latch, the door opened , and they went in together.
"Hullo?" cried a loud, hoarse voice, as soon as they had got into the passage.
"Don't make such a row," said Sikes, bolting the door.
"Aha, my pal," cried the same voice.
Sikes pushed Oliver in front of him, and they entered a low, dark room with a smoky fire, a table, and an old sofa. On the sofa, was a flashily dressed individual with reddish hair, his dirty fingers ornamented with large common rings.
Who could have made the voice?
Extracted From: Oliver Twist
Author: Charles Dickens
EXTRACT FROM: CORALINE
ReplyDeleteSEWING BUTTONS IN HER EYES
AUTHOUR: NEIL GAIMAN
Coraline struggled to wake herself up, conscious only for the moment of having been cuddled and loved, and wanting more of it; then realising where she was, and who she was with.
‘There, my sweet Coraline,’ said her other mother. ‘I came and fetched you out of the cupboard. You needed to be taught a lesson, but we temper our justice with mercy here, we love the sinner and we hate the sin. Now, if you will be a good child who loves her mother. Be compliant and fair-spoken, you and I shall understand each other perfectly and we shall love each other perfectly as well.’
Coraline scratched the sleep-grit from her eyes.
‘There were other children in there,’ she said. ‘Old ones, from a long time ago.’
Were there?’ said the other mother. She was bustling between the pans and the fridge, bringing out eggs and cheeses, butter and a slab of sliced pink bacon.
‘Yes,’ said Coraline. ‘There were. I think you’re planning to turn me into one of them. A dead shell.’
Her other mother smiled gently. With one hand she cracked the eggs into a bowl, with the other she whisked them and whirled them. Then she dropped a pat of butter into a frying pan, where it hissed and fizzled and spun as she sliced thin slices of cheese. She poured the melted butter and the cheese into the egg mixture, and whisked it some more.
‘Now, I think you’re being silly, dear,’ said the other mother. ‘I love you. I will always love you. Nobody sensible believes in ghosts anyway. That’s because they’re all such liars. Smell the lovely breakfast I’m making for you.’ She poured the yellow mixture into the pan. Cheese omelette. Your favourite.’
Coraline’s mouth watered. ‘You like games,’ she said. ‘That’s what I’ve been told.’
The other mother’s black button eyes flashed. ‘Everybody likes games,’ was all she said.
‘Yes,’ said Coraline. She climbed down from the counter and sat at the kitchen table.
The bacon was sizzling and spitting under the grill. It smelled wonderful.
‘Wouldn’t you be happier if you won me, fair and square?’ asked Coraline.
‘Possibly,’ said the other mother. She had a show of unconcernedness, but her fingers twitched and drummed and she licked her lips with her scarlet tongue. ‘What exactly are you offering?’
‘Me,’ said Coraline, and she gripped her knees under the table, to stop them from shaking. If I lose I’ll stay here with you forever and I’ll stay here with you forever and I’ll let you lobe me. I’ll be a most dutiful daughter. I’ll eat you food, and play Happy Families. And I’ll let yousw your buttons into my eyes.’
Her other mother stared at her, black buttons unblinking. ‘That sounds very fine,’ she said. ‘And if you do not lose?’
‘Then you let me go. You let everone go – my real father and mother, the dead children, everyone you’ve trapped here. ‘
The other mother took the bacon from under the grill and put it on a plate. Then she slipped the cheese omelette from the pan on to the plate, flipping it as she did so, letting it fold itself into a perfect omelette shape.
She placed the breakfast plate in front of Coraline, along with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and a mug of frothy hot chocolate.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I think I like this game. But what kind of game shall it be? A riddle game? A test of knowledge? Or of skill?’
‘An exploring game,’ suggested Coraline. ‘A finding-things game.’
‘And what is it youthink you should be finding in this hide-and-go-seek game, Coraline Jones?’
Coraline hesitated. Then, ‘My parents,’ said Coraline. ‘And the souls of the children behind the mirror.’
Question: What kind of girl do you think Coraline is?
-Yip Sue Min
Killin'...adults' business?
ReplyDelete‘Now we'll start this band of robbers and call it Tom Sawyer's Gang. Everybody that wants to join has got to take an oath, and write his name in blood.'
Everybody was willing. So Tom got out a sheet of paper that he had wrote the oath on, and read it. It swore every boy to stick to band, and never tell any of the secrets; and if anybody done anything to any boy in the band, whichever boy was ordered to kill that person and his family must do it, and he mustn’t eat and he mustn’t sleep till he had killed them and hacked a cross in their breasts, which was the sign of the band, and nobody that didn’t belong to the band could use that mark, and if he did he must be sued; and if he done it again he must be killed. And if anybody that belonged to the band told the secrets, he must have his throat cut, and then have his carcass burnt up and the ashes scattered all around, and his name blotted off of the list with blood and never mentioned again by the Gang, but have a curse put on it and be forgot, for ever.
Extract from The Adventures of Hukkleberry Finn
Question: Do you think they'll really carry out the consequenses if someone broke the rules?
Bella :D
Goneril,the eldest,that she loved her father more than words could give out,that he was dearer to her than her own eyes,dearer than life and liberty,with a deal of such professing stuff ,which is easy to counterfeit where there is no real love,only a few fine words delivered with confidence wanted in that case. The king,delighted to hear from her own mouth this assurance of love,and thinking truly that her heart went with it, in a fit of fatherly fondness bestowed upon her and her husband one-third of his ample kingdom.
ReplyDeleteThen calling to him his second daughter, he demanded what she had to say. Regan, who was made of the same hollow metal as her sister, was not a whit behind in her profession but rather declared that what her sister professed to bear for his highness; insomuch that she found all other joys dead, in comparison with the pleasure which she too in the love of her dear king and father.
Lear blessed himself in having such loving children, as he thought; and could do no less, after the handsome assurances which Regan had made, than bestow a third of his kingdom upon her and her husband, equal in size to that which he had already given away to Goneril.
Then turning to his youngest daughter Cordelia, whom he called his joy, he asked what she had to say, thinking no doubt that she would glad his ears with the same loving speeches which her sisters had uttered, or rather that her expressions would be so much stronger than theirs, as she had always been his darling and favoured by him above either of them. But Cordelia, disgusted with the flattery of her sisters, whose hearts she knew were far from their lips, and seeing that all their coaxing speeches were only intended to wheedle the old king out of his dominions, that they and their husbands might reign in his lifetime, made no other reply but this, that she loved his majesty according to her duty, neither more nor less.
Extract from King Lear by Shannen Ng
Question: Do you think Cordelia answered her father, King Lear correctly? Why? What do you think of King Lear and his actions? Why?
"We have got to stop meeting like this,"purred Natalie Kabra behind her.
ReplyDeleteEnraged,Dan made a run at Natalie.But Ian stepped from the shadows and grabbed him firmly around the midsection."Not so fast,Danny boy.I see you've recovered from your evening swim."He sniffed Dan's hair."Well,not completely."
"What do you want?"Dan challenged.
Ian regarded him pitiyingly."Are you kidding?Like it's a coincidence we're all here. Basically,it's like this:You're going to stand in front of my sister's dart gun while I entertain you with some music."
Roughly,he thrust Dan against the wall and shoved Amy over beside him.
Natalie faced them,holding them at gunpoint. "Don't worry,"she promised with mock sweetness. "The dart won't kill you.But you'll wake up in a few hours with a nasty headache."
"Again,"added her brother.He stepped over the velvet rope and seated himself at the harpsichord,cracking his knuckles with a flourish.
"You're bluffing!"Dan accused."You don't even know what to play!"
Extract from The 39 Clues:One False Note
By Cheong Wei Soon
Who do you think Natalie and Ian are?What do you think of them and their actions?
The book was by Gordon Korman.
ReplyDelete"Can we get some American food?"Nellie asked."Like cheeseburgers?"
ReplyDeleteNellie must really be worried about them if she was passing up the opportunity for local food,Amy thought.Then again,Amy herself was worried.Dan was never quiet this long.
The clerk smiled."You can get anything in Jakarta.I can arrange to send food up to your room."
"Cheeseburgers,fries,potato chips...whatever you've got,"Nellie said.
They took the elevator up to their room and threw down their bags.Amy lifted Saladin from his carrier.
Nellie turned to them."All right,out with it.When I mentioned cheeseburgers,Dan didn't even yelp."
"No reason,"Dan said.
"Just tired,"Amy mumbled into Saladin's soft fur.
Extract from The 39 Clues:In Too Deep
By:Jude Watson
What do you think had really happened to them to keep them so quiet?