In the past I have told you about the sun and the stars. Can you think of anything else in the sky that you would like to know more about? Of course, I do not mean the dark clouds, but something bright and pretty, that all people love to look at.
I think you must have guessed that I mean the moon—the beautiful moon. Now, I want you to make another guess: Is the moon bright because it is made of fire, like the sun; or because the sun shines on it, as it does on Venus and Jupiter?
If any of you think it is made of fire, you should try to warm your toes and fingers in the moonlight, as you do in the sunshine, and you will find out for yourselves that it is not a great fire, like the sun, and that you cannot get warm in the light of it–even if you try.
And now you will guess at once, that, if it is not fire itself, it must shine from the sun’s fire; and that is right. The moon itself is cold and dark. It is the light of the sun that makes it look bright to us. We might call it the sun’s looking-glass, in which we see his image or reflection.
But surely you are familiar with this next part‒we cannot at all times see the whole of it. When we do, we call it a full moon, and, when we see only the edge of it, we say it is a new moon. However, of course, the moon itself does not change its shape. It is always round–a dark round ball–which we should never see at all, if the sun did not light it up for us; and it is only a part of the time we can see the side which is lit up.
Now, onto the harder parts! Which do you suppose is larger—the moon or the stars?
Now I know you will say the moon, because it looks so, so much larger, but you must remember that the stars are so incredibly far away and distant, so we can hardly see them at all, while the moon is our own moon, and even much nearer to us than our own sun.
We can see more of the moon than we can see of the stars; but the moon is a very small thing indeed compared with one of the stars. It would take about fifty moons to make one such Earth as we live on, and it would take more Earths than you can count to make one star or sun.
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The moon indeed has a fascinating relationship with the sun, as it reflects the sun's light and brings beauty to our night skies. Your exploration of the moon's nature, size, and visibility is quite enlightening!
To delve further into the wonders of the moon, one might wonder about its phases, which occur as it orbits the Earth. The cycle from new moon to full moon and back is a beautiful display of celestial mechanics. Then there are lunar eclipses, when the Earth comes between the sun and the moon, casting a shadow on the moon and creating a striking visual phenomenon.
Another interesting aspect is the moon's surface, which is pockmarked with craters caused by asteroid impacts over billions of years. These craters tell stories about the moon's history and the solar system's early days.
Many people also find the moon's gravitational effect on Earth fascinating. It plays a significant role in the tides of our oceans. The pull of the moon creates tidal forces that affect water levels, which are crucial for many marine ecosystems.
Lastly, the moon has inspired a wealth of mythology and art across different cultures. From ancient gods and goddesses associated with the moon to modern poetry and songs, the moon continues to play a significant role in our creativity and imagination.
If you're curious about any specific aspect of the moon or its relationship with Earth, feel free to ask!
hears the qustions Which of these inferences about the narrator’s point of view is least supported by the passage?
The narrator is not interested in learning about animals.
The narrator is speaking to an audience that knows little about space.
The narrator is an experienced science and zoology teacher.
The narrator is an expert on the sun, moon, and planets.
To determine which inference is least supported by the passage, we can analyze each option based on the text:
The narrator is not interested in learning about animals.
This inference is not supported by the passage. The passage discusses celestial bodies but does not reference animals or indicate that the narrator is uninterested in them. Therefore, this inference seems unfounded based on the text.
The narrator is speaking to an audience that knows little about space.
This inference is supported by the passage. The narrator explains concepts about the moon and stars, suggesting that they may be addressing an audience that needs clarification on these topics.
The narrator is an experienced science and zoology teacher.
This inference could be somewhat supported, depending on interpretation. The narrator demonstrates a familiarity with scientific concepts, which may suggest experience, though "zoology" is not directly addressed in the passage.
The narrator is an expert on the sun, moon, and planets.
This inference is fairly supported as the narrator provides detailed explanations about the moon, its relationship to the sun, and its phases, indicating a level of expertise.
Based on this analysis, the inference that "the narrator is not interested in learning about animals" is the least supported by the passage, as the text does not address animals at all, making it irrelevant to the narrator's discussion on celestial bodies.
It’s lucky I’m handy with a needle.
My grandmother and I sat sewing the evening before I went into the Pathways. We always talk while we sew, and with the endless worries about our isle’s missing magic, it seemed natural for me to ask, “What creatures could be stopping the flow of enchantments?”
“Ill dragons gobble stray magic like sweets,” said Gran. “And ogres may try to hoard it. It’s even possible a nixkeep is stealing the spells.”
I looked up from mending my faded green dress. Staring out of our cottage’s window, I felt desperate to spot the shimmering blue leaves and tendrils of stray magic adrift in the dusky sky. “What’s a nixkeep?”
“A type of winged goblin. Thankfully, they’re rare, Emily. A nixkeep can only visit a kingdom once in a thousand years, but if he does, he’ll strip it of stray magic. When he seizes the last piece, it glows orange.” Frowning, Gran snipped a thread.
“Enchanted objects refuse to hold such restless magic, so nixkeeps trap it in ordinary containers: lamps, bags, bottles, even beans. Strangers selling shoddy magical goods to mortals are often nixkeeps in disguise.” She sighed. “What a terrible thing to do. Sealed up, stray magic slowly fades away. It’s meant to go where it wants, to do what it wishes.”
Gran says almost all lands have some form of stray magic. Unfettered, and touchable only by otherworldly folk—most of whom would never dream of tampering with it—this kind of magic constantly renews itself in enchanted places. Here, it floats out of the Pathways, the spellbound tip of our arrow-shaped island. When I was a child, I’d chase it, and as I grew older, just for fun, I’d still dash after an especially showy piece of magic gliding by. Rippling and spiraling, the tendrils might be thick as sturdy vines or fine as strands of my mousy hair. As for the leaves, I’ve seen everything from a scattering of oval ones small as bees to a frilled trio to a sleek lone beauty longer than a kite. Eventually, the enchantments catch on the thatch of cottages, snag on weathervanes and water reeds, settle on moths and trees and mice, and disappear, casting their unseen spells.
Our side of the island had always received just the right amount of leaves and tendrils. We didn’t want a surplus. Too much magic would cause the problems you read about in the old tales: cooking pots springing to life, ghostly knights galloping horses through the countryside, talking fish granting careless wishes. Still, when the modest portions we needed became scarce, and then stopped arriving altogether, bad times followed.
Without magic wafting our way, wild winds blasted, drought set in, boats foundered, fruit rotted in orchards. More people gossiped and bickered, and after someone stole bags of flour from the mill, we started locking our doors. Amidst such big problems, we learned to better appreciate the little things magic does, too.
Our remote isle has no wizards, and I sensed Gran felt a growing responsibility to investigate the problem herself. Gran lacked wizardly powers altogether, so how could I let her search the Pathways for sick dragons and greedy ogres? Of course, I’m as unmagical as she is, but my speed might prove useful! I’d decided to find out what was wrong on my own—no spell-casting required!—and bring back the news.
How does the narrator feel about magic?
The narrator is terrified of magic because it can harm people.
The narrator loves magic and practicing her powers every day after school.
The narrator thinks magic is boring because she discusses it with Gran too often.
The narrator thinks magic is a good thing, but only in the right amount.
Based on the passage, the narrator's feelings about magic can be summarized as follows:
The narrator expresses a sense of nostalgia and appreciation for magic, recalling how she used to chase it as a child and still dashes after it for fun. This indicates a fondness for the whimsical and enchanting aspects of magic.
The narrator acknowledges that a surplus of magic can lead to chaos and problems, referencing old tales of unintended consequences from too much magic. This shows a nuanced understanding that while magic is valuable, it should be present in moderation.
The narrator is concerned about the recent scarcity of magic and the negative effects it has had on her isle, such as bad weather and increased conflict among people. This suggests that she sees magic as crucial to maintaining balance and harmony in her environment.
Taking all of this into consideration, the best answer to how the narrator feels about magic is:
The narrator thinks magic is a good thing, but only in the right amount.
Chapter 1: Mr. Bedford Meets Mr. Cavor at Lympne
As I sit down to write here amidst the shadows of vine-leaves under the blue sky of southern Italy, it comes to me with a certain quality of astonishment that my participation in these amazing adventures of Mr. Cavor was, after all, the outcome of the purest accident.
It might have been any one.
I fell into these things at a time when I thought myself removed from the slightest possibility of new, disturbing experiences. I had gone to Lympne because I had imagined it to be the most uneventful place in the world.
“Here, at any rate,” said I, “I shall find peace and a chance to work!”
And this book is the sequel.
So utterly at odds is destiny with all the little plans of men!
There is a luxury in admitting this: I can admit, even, that to a certain extent my disasters were conceivably of my own making.
But in those days I was young, and my youth (among other objectionable forms) took that of a pride in myself. I am young still in years, but the things that have happened to me have rubbed something of the youth from my mind. Whether they have brought any wisdom to light below it is a more doubtful matter.
Which of these inferences about the narrator’s perspective is most supported by the passage?
The narrator is sad about the events they is about to share.
The narrator is upset that they have not found a good place to write.
The narrator is surprised as they reflect on their past experiences.
The narrator is writing their story because they are growing old.
To determine which inference about the narrator’s perspective is most supported by the passage, let's analyze each option:
The narrator is sad about the events they are about to share.
While the narrator reflects on their past and acknowledges that the events were the outcome of accidents and perhaps their own mistakes, there isn't a strong indication of sadness about those events in this specific excerpt.
The narrator is upset that they have not found a good place to write.
The narrator mentions going to Lympne in search of peace and a chance to work, but they do not express direct disappointment about their writing environment in the passage.
The narrator is surprised as they reflect on their past experiences.
This inference is supported by the narrator's admission of astonishment at how they ended up in these "amazing adventures" despite seeking a tranquil place. The use of phrases like "I come to write... with a certain quality of astonishment" suggests surprise in their reflection.
The narrator is writing their story because they are growing old.
While the narrator hints at feeling some wisdom from their experiences and reflects on their youth, they do not specifically state that they are writing because they are growing old.
Given this analysis, the inference that is most supported by the passage is:
The narrator is surprised as they reflect on their past experiences.
A wolf, finding that the sheep were so afraid of him that he could not get near them, disguised himself in the dress of a shepherd, and thus attired approached the flock. As he came near, he found the shepherd fast asleep. As the sheep did not run away, he resolved to imitate the voice of the shepherd. In trying to do so, he only howled, and awoke the shepherd. As the wolf could not run away while in the disguise, he was soon caught by the shepherd.
Those who attempt to act in disguise are apt to overdo it.
What point of view is this text written from?
First person, from the shepherd’s perspective
Third person, focused on the actions of the wolf
First person, from the wolf’s perspective
Third person, focused on the thoughts of all characters
The text is written from a third person point of view, specifically focusing on the actions of the wolf. The narrative does not include "I" or "we" that would suggest a first person perspective, nor does it delve into the thoughts of all characters. Instead, it describes the wolf's actions and the events surrounding them from an outside perspective. Thus, the correct answer is:
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