ECAT Pre Computer Science MCQ Test With Answer for English Chapter 8 (Comprehension)

Arrowheads, which are ancient hunting tools, are often themselves ‘hunted’ for their interesting value both as artifacts and as art. Some of the oldest arrowheads in the United States date back 12,000 years. They are not very difficult to find. You need only to walk with downcast eyes in a field that has been recently tilled for the spring planting season, and you might find one.

Arrowheads are tiny stones or pieces of wood, bone, or metal which have been sharpened in order to create a tipped weapon used in hunting. The material is honed to an edge, usually in a triangular fashion, and is brought to a deadly tip. On the edge opposite the tip is a flared tail. Though designs vary depending on the region, purpose, and era of the arrowhead’s origin, the tails serve the same purpose. The tail of the arrowhead is meant to be strapped onto a shaft, which is a straight wooden piece such as a spear or an arrow. When combined, the arrowhead point and the shaft become a lethal projectile weapon to be thrown by arm or shot with a bow at prey.

Indian arrowheads are important artifacts that give archeologists (scientists who study past human societies) clues about the lives of Native Americans. By analyzing an arrowhead’s shape, they can determine the advancement of tool technologies among certain Native American groups. By determining the origin of the arrowhead material (bone, rock, wood, or metal), they can trace the patterns of travel and trade of the hunters. By examine the location of the arrowheads, archeologists can map out hunting grounds and other social patterns.

Arrowheads are commonly found along riverbanks or near creek beds because animals drawn to natural water sources to sustain life were regularly found drinking along the banks. For this reason, riverbeds were a prime hunting ground for the Native Americans. Now, dry and active riverbeds are prime hunting grounds for arrowhead collectors.

Indian arrowheads are tiny pieces of history that fit in the palm of your hand. They are diary entries in the life of a hunter. They are museum pieces that hide in the dirt. They are symbolic of the eternal struggle between life and death.

In the final paragraph, the author writes, “They are museum pieces symbolic of the eternal struggle between life and death.” Which of the following is the best way to combine these two sentences, while keeping their original meaning?

Philadelphia is a city known for many things. It is where the Declaration of independence was signed in 1776, and it was also the first capital of the United States. But one fact about Philadelphia is not so well-known: it is home to nearly 3,000 murals painted on the sides of homes and buildings around the city. In fact, it is said that Philadelphia has more murals than any other city in the world, with the exception of Rome. How did this come to be?

More than 20 years ago, a New Jersey artist named Jane Golden started a program pairing troubled youth with artists to paint murals on a few buildings around the city. Form this small project, something magical happened. The young people involved helped to create magnificent pieces of art, but there were other, perhaps more important benefits. The young people learned to collaborate and get along with many different kinds of people during the various steps required to paint and design a mural. They learned to be responsible, because they needed to follow a schedule to make sure the murals were completed. They also learned to take pride in their community. It is hard for any resident to see the spectacular designs and not feel proud to be a part of Philadelphia.

Take a walk around some of the poorest neighborhoods I Philadelphia, neighborhoods full of broken windows and littered front steps, and you will find beautiful works of art on the sides and fronts of buildings. Of course they murals are not just in poor neighborhoods, but more affluent ones as well. Special buses take tourists to different parts of the city to see the various murals, which range from huge portraits of historical heroes, to cityscapes, to scenes depicting the diverse ethnic groups that call Philadelphia home.

As a result of its success, the mural program created by Jane Golden has now become the nation’s largest public art program and a model for to troubled youth.

In order to make this passage more engaging to readers, the author could have included

I a brief history of Philadelphia

II picture of some of the murals

III an interview with a program muralist

This is the age of machine. Machines are everywhere, in the fields, in the factory, in the home, In the street, in the city, in the country, everywhere. To fly, it is not necessary to have wings; there are machines. To swim under the sea, it is not necessary to have gills; there are machines. To kill our fellowmen in over-whelming numbers, there are machines. Petrol machines alone provide ten times more power than all human beings in the world. In the busiest countries, each individual has six hundred human slaves in his machines.

What are the consequences of this abnormal power? Before the war, it looked as though it might be possible, for the first time in history to provide food and clothing and shelter for the teaming population of the world-every man, woman and child. This would have been the greatest triumphs of science. And yet, if you remember, we saw the world crammed, full of food and people hungry. Today, the leaders are bare and millions, starving. That’s more begin to hum, are we going to see again more and more food, and people still hungry? For the goods, it makes the goods, but avoids the consequences.

According to the passage, which of the following is not necessary to fly?

At the time Jane Austen’s novels were published – between 1811 and 1818 – English literature was not part of any academic curriculum. In addition, fiction was under strenuous attack. Certain religious and political groups felt novels had the power to make so-called immoral characters so interesting that young readers would identify with them; these groups also considered novels to be of little practical use. Even Coleridge, certainly no literary reactionary, spoke for many when the asserted that “novel-reading occasions the destruction of the mind’s powers.”

These attitudes towards novels help explain why Austen received little attention from early nineteenth-century literary cities. (In any case a novelist published anonymously, as Austen was, would not be likely to receive much critical attention.) The literary response that was accorded to her, however, was often as incisive as twentieth-century criticism. In his attack in 1816 on novelistic portrayals “outside of ordinary experience,” for example. Scott made an insightful remark about the merits of Austen’s fiction.

Her novels, wrote Scott, “present to the reader an accurate and exact picture of ordinary everyday people and places, reminiscent of seventeenth-century Flemish painting.” Scott did not use the word ‘realism’, but he undoubtedly used a standard of realistic probability in judging novels. The critic Whately did not use the word ‘realism’, either, but he expressed agreement with Scott’s evaluation, and went on to suggest the possibilities for moral instruction in what we have called Austen’s ‘realistic method’ her characters, wrote Whately, are persuasive agents for moral truth since they are ordinary persons “so clearly evoked that we feel an interest in their fate as if it were our own.” Moral instruction, explained Whately, is more likely to be effective when conveyed through recongnizably human and interesting characters than when imparted by a sermonizing narrator. Whitely especially praised Austen’s ability to create character who “mingle goodness and villainy, weakness and virtue, as in life they are always mingled. “Whitely concluded his remarks by comparing Austen’s art of characterization to Dickens’, starting his preference for Austen’s.

Yet, the response of nineteenth-century literary critics to Austen was not always so laudatory, and often anticipated the reservations of twentieth-century literary critics. An example of such a response was Lewes complaint in 1859 that Austen’s range of subject and characters was too narrow. Praising her verisimilitude, Lewes added that, nonetheless her focus was too often only upon the unlofty and the commonplace. (Twentieth-century Marxists, on the other hand, were to complain about what they saw as her exclusive emphasis on a lofty upper middle class.) In any case having being rescued by literary critics from neglect and indeed gradually lionized by them, Austen steadily reached, by the mid-nineteenth century, the enviable pinnacle of being considered controversial.

It can be inferred from the passage that Whately found Dickens’ characters to be

Lilly loves her town. She loves the mall. She loves the parks. She also loves her school. Most of all, though, Lilly loves the seasons. In her old town, it was hot all of the time.

Sometimes it is cold in Lilly’s new town. The cold season is in winter. Once in a while it snows. Lilly has never seen snow before. So far her, the snow is exciting as well as very beautiful. Lilly has to wear gloves to keep her hands warm. She also wear a scarf around her neck.

In spring, flowers bloom and the trees turn green with new leaves. Pollen falls on the cars and windowsills and makes Lilly sneeze. People work in their yards and mow their grass.

In summer, Lilly wears her old shorts and sandals- the same ones she used to wear in her old town. It is hot outside, and dogs lie in the shade. Lilly and her friends go to a pool or play in the water sprinkler. Her father cooks hamburgers on the grill for dinner.

Lilly’s favorite season is autumn. In autumn, the leaves on the trees turn yellow, gold, red, and orange. Halloween comes in autumn, and this Lilly’s favorite holiday. Every Halloween, Lilly wears a costume. Last year she wore a mouse costume. This year she will wear a fish costume.

One evening in autumn, Lilly and her mom are on sitting together on the porch. Mom tells Lilly that autumn is also called “fall”. This is a good idea, Lilly thinks, because in the fall all of the leaves fall down from the trees.

Based on information in paragraph 5, which of the following costumes is Lilly most likely to wear next year?

When her grandmother’s health began to deteriorate in the fall of 1994, Mary would make the drive from Washington, DC to Winchester every few days.

She hated highway driving, finding it ugly and monotonous. She preferred to take meandering back roads to her grandmother’s hospital. When she drove through the rocky town of Harpers Ferry, the beauty of the rough waters churning at the intersection of the Shenandoah and Potomac rivers always captivated her.

Toward the end of her journey, Mary had to get on highway 81. It was here that she discovered a surprising bit of beauty during one of her trips. Along the median of the highway, there was a long stretch of wildflowers. They were thin and delicate and purple, and swayed in the wind as if whispering poems to each other.

The first time she saw the flowers, Mary was seized by an uncontrollable urge to pull over on the highway and yank a bunch from the soil. She carried them into her grandmother’s room when she arrived at the hospital and placed them in a water pitcher by her bed. For a moment her grandmother seemed more lucid than usual. She thanked Mary for the flowers, commented on their beauty and asked where she had gotten them. Mary was overjoyed by the ability of the flowers to wake something up inside her ailing grandmother.

Afterwards, Mary began carrying scissors in the car during her trips to visit her grandmother. She would quickly glide onto the shoulder, jump out of the car, and clip a bunch of flowers. Each time Mary placed the flowers in the pitcher, her grandmother’s eyes would light up and they would have a splendid conversation.

One morning in late October, Mary got a call that her grandmother had taken a turn for the worse. Mary was in such a hurry to get to her grandmother that she sped past her flower spot. She decided to turn around head several miles back, and cut a bunch. Mary arrived at the hospital to find her grandmother very weak and unresponsive. She placed flowers in the pitcher and sat down. She felt a squeeze on her fingers. It was the last conversation they had.

In the final paragraph, the author writes. “She felt a squeeze on her fingers. It was the last conversation they had.”

Which best describes what the author is trying to communicate in these sentences?

I am writing in response to response to the article “Protecting our public spaces” in issue 14, published this spring in it, the author claims that “all graffiti is public spaces.” I would like to point out that many people believe that graffiti is an art from that can benefit our public spaces just as much as sculpture, fountains, or other, more accepted art forms.

People who object to graffiti usually do so more because of where it is, not what it is. They argue, as your author does, that posting graffiti in public places constitutes an illegal act of property damage. But the location of such graffiti should not prevent the images themselves from being considered genuine art.

I would argue that graffiti is the ultimate public art form. Spray paint is a medium unlike any other. Though graffiti, the entire world has become a canvas. No one has to pay admission or travel to a museum to see this kind of art. The artists usually do not receive payment for their efforts. These works of art dotting the urban landscape are available, free of charge, to everyone who passes by.

To be clear, I do not consider random words or names sprayed on stop signs to be art. Plenty of graffiti is just vandalism, pure and simple. However, there is also graffiti that is breathtaking in its intricate detail, its realism, or its creativity. It takes great talent to create such involved designs with spray paint.

Are these creators not artists just because they use a can of spray paint instead of a paintbrush, or because they cover the side of a building rather than a canvas?

To declare that all graffiti is vandalism, and nothing more, is an overly simplistic statement that I find out of place in such a thoughtful publication as your magazine. Furthermore, graffiti is not going anywhere, so might as well find a way to live with it and enjoy its benefits. One option could be to make a percentage of public space, such as walls or benches in parks, open to graffiti artists. By doing this, the public might feel like part owners of these works of art, rather than just the victims of a crime.

According to the writer, random words sprayed on stop sings are not