Rebe says...: junio 2011

jueves, 23 de junio de 2011

PART I: GRAMMAR

MIXED VERB TENSES

· Here are some photographs Craig and Angeles took on their holidays. Complete what Craig says about each photo using the given verb in the most suitable tense (past continuous; past perfect or ‘going to’ future). Follow the examples.

Example 1: When this was taken, we *(travel)* around the Mekong Delta in Vietnam.
Example 2: When I took this photo, Angeles *(walk)* in monsoon rain for three hours.
1. When I took this one, we (have) a coffee in The Peninsula Hotel, Hong Kong
2. When Angeles took this one, Craig (just/wake up) in the airport departure lounge.
3. When I took this one, Angeles and I (wait) to go onto the Coliseum in Rome.
4. When this was taken, we (just/be) to the top of the Empire State Building.
5. When Angeles took this picture, I (eat) a big steak in Galicia, Spain.
6. When I took this one, Angeles (watch) by a friendly elephant on Safari in Africa.
7. When I took this one, Angeles (walk) on the beach in Zanzibar.
8. When Angeles took this photo, I (enjoy) the view at the top of the CN Tower, Toronto.
9. When Angeles took this one. We (cross) the highest road in the world in the Himalayas
10. When I took this one, Angeles (stand) in front of Niagara Falls, Canada.
11. When Angeles took this one, we (climb) Mount Kilimanjaro in Tanzania.
12. When I took this one, we (eat) a wonderful meal in Ladakh, India.		Now match the meaning of each verb tense with the explanations below. Write the number of each sentence in the correct place. Follow the example. a) An action completed before the photograph was taken b) An action in progress at the same time the photograph was taken c) An action that will start after the photograph was taken

ARTÍCULOS DETERMINADOS E INDETERMINADOS

Ejercicios

Lee estas famosas (y no tan famosas) frases célebres y pon el artículo correcto 'a', 'an', 'the' o ' - ' (ninguno).

1. “It is better to ask some of questions than to know all answers.”

2. “ “C” students run world.”

3. “To succeed in life, you need two things: ignorance and confidence.”

4. “Go to Heaven for climate, Hell for company.”

5. “Don’t let school interfere with your education.”

6. “ golf is good walk spoiled.”

7. “ life is tough, but it’s tougher if you’re stupid.”

8. “It is wasted day unless you have learned something new and made someone smile.”

9. “It is better to have permanent income than to be fascinating.”

10. “You can’t be real country unless you have beer and airline. It helps if you have some kind of football team, or some nuclear weapons, but at very least you need beer.”

11. “ foundation stones for balanced success are honesty, character, integrity, faith, love and loyalty.”

12. “Tomorrow is often busiest time of year.”

13. “ President has kept all of promises he intended to keep.”

14. “Never accept failure no matter how often it visits you. Keep on going. Never give up. Never.”

15. “There is no sincerer love than love of food.”

16. “Show me sane man and I will cure him for you.”

17. “Few things are harder to put up with than good example.”

18. “ Happiness is good health and bad memory.”

19. “I think there is world market for maybe five computers.”

20. “There are only two ways to live life. One is as though nothing is miracle. The other is as though everything is miracle.”

PART II: READING

BARTLEBY

Bartlebyby Herman Melville

Lee el texto (los términos destacados se incluyen en un glosario final y puedes visualizar ayuda online manteniendo el cursor sobre ellos)

I am an old lawyer, and I have three men working for me. My business continued to grow and so I decided to get one more man to help write legal papers.

I have met a great many people in my days, but the man who answered my advertisement was the strangest person I have ever heard of or met.

He stood outside my office and waited for me to speak. He was a small man, quiet and dressed in a clean but old suit of clothes. I asked him his name. It was Bartleby.

At first Bartleby almost worked himself too hard writing the legal papers I gave him. He worked through the day by sunlight, and into the night by candlelight. I was happy with his work, but not happy with the way he worked. He was too quiet. But, he worked well…like a machine, never looking or speaking.

One day, I asked Bartleby to come to my office to study a legal paper with me. Without moving from his chair, Bartleby said: “I do not want to.”

I sat for a short time, too surprised to move. Then I became excited.

“You do not want to. What do you mean, are you sick? I want you to help me with this paper.”

“I do not want to.”

His face was calm. His eyes showed no emotion. He was not angry. This is strange, I thought. What should I do? But, the telephone rang, and I forgot the problem for the time being.

A few days later, four long documents came into the office. They needed careful study, and I decided to give one document to each of my men. I called and all came to my office. But not Bartleby.

“Bartleby, quick, I am waiting.”

He came, and stood in front of me for a moment. “I don’t want to,” he said then turned and went back to his desk.

I was so surprised, I could not move. There was something about Bartleby that froze me, yet, at the same time, made me feel sorry for him.

As time passed, I saw that Bartleby never went out to eat dinner. Indeed, he never went anywhere. At eleven o’clock each morning, one of the men would bring Bartleby some ginger cakes.

“Umm. He lives on them,” I thought. “Poor fellow!” He is a little foolish at times, but he is useful to me.

“Bartleby,” I said one afternoon. “Please go to the post office and bring my mail.”

“I do not want to.”

I walked back to my office too shocked to think. Let’s see, the problem here is…one of my workers named Bartleby will not do some of the things I ask him to do. One important thing about him though, he is always in his office.

One Sunday I walked to my office to do some work. When I placed the key in the door, I couldn’t open it. I stood a little surprised, then called, thinking someone might be inside. There was. Bartleby. He came from his office and told me he did not want to let me in.

The idea of Bartleby living in my law office had a strange effect on me. I slunk away much like a dog does when it has been shouted at…with its tail between its legs.

Was anything wrong? I did not for a moment believe Bartleby would keep a woman in my office. But for some time he must have eaten, dressed and slept there. How lonely and friendless Bartleby must be.

I decided to help him. The next morning I called him to my office.

“Bartleby, will you tell me anything about yourself?”

“I do not want to.”

I sat down with him and said, “You do not have to tell me about your personal history, but when you finish writing that document…

“I have decided not to write anymore,” he said. And left my office.

What was I to do? Bartleby would not work at all. Then why should he stay on his job? I decided to tell him to go. I gave him six days to leave the office and told him I would give him some extra money. If he would not work, he must leave.

On the sixth day, somewhat hopefully, I looked into the office Bartleby used. He was still there.

The next morning, I went to the office early. All was still. I tried to open the door, but it was locked. Bartleby’s voice came from inside. I stood as if hit by lightening. I walked the streets thinking. “Well, Bartleby, if you will not leave me, I shall leave you.”

I paid some men to move all the office furniture to another place. Bartleby just stood there as the men took his chair away.

“Goodbye Bartleby, I am going. Goodbye and God be with you. Here take this money.” I placed it in his hands. It dropped to the floor; and then, strange to say, I had difficulty leaving the person I wanted to leave me.

A few days later, a stranger visited me in my new office. “You are responsible for the man you left in your last office,” he said. The owner of the building has given me a court order which says you must take him away. We tried to make him leave, but he returned and troubles the others there.

I went back to my old office and found Bartleby sitting on the empty floor.

“Bartleby, one of two things must happen. I will get you a different job, or you can go to work for some other lawyer.”

He said he did not like either choice.

“Bartleby, will you come home with me and stay there until we decide what you will do?”

He answered softly, “No, I do not want to make any changes.”

I answered nothing more. I fled. I rode around the city and visited places of historic interest, anything to get Bartleby off my mind.

When I entered my office later, I found a message for me. Bartleby had been taken to prison.

I found him there, and when he saw me he said: “I know you, and I have nothing to say to you.”

“But I didn’t put you here, Bartleby.” I was deeply hurt. I told him I gave the prison guard money to buy him a good dinner.

“I do not want to eat today, he said. I never eat dinner.”

Days passed, and I went to see Bartleby again. I was told he was sleeping in the prison yard outside.

Sleeping? The thin Bartleby was lying on the cold stones. I stooped to look at the small man lying on his side with his knees against his chest. I walked closer and looked down at him. His eyes were open. He seemed to be in a deep sleep.

“Won’t he eat today, either, or does he live without eating?” the guard asked.

“Lives without eating,” I answered…and closed his eyes.

“Uh…he is asleep isn’t he?” the guard said.

“With kings and lawyers,” I answered.

One little story came to me some days after Bartleby died. I learned he had worked for many years in the post office. He was in a special office that opened all the nation’s letters that never reach the person they were written to. It is called the dead letter office. The letters are not written clearly, so the mailmen cannot read the addresses.

Well, poor Bartleby had to read the letters, to see if anyone’s name was written clearly so they could be sent. Think of it. From one letter a wedding ring fell, the finger it was bought for perhaps lies rotting in the grave. Another letter has money to help someone long since dead. Letters filled with hope for those who died without hope.

Poor Bartleby! He himself had lost all hope. His job had killed something inside him.

Ah, Bartleby! Ah, humanity!

Glossary:·Candlelight: the light that a candle produces when it is burning
·Lightening (lightning): the flashing of light produced by a discharge of atmospheric electricity
·Hurt: to feel pain in a part of your body, or to injure someone or cause them pain
·Yard: a piece of land next to and belonging to a house, where flowers and other plants are grown, and often containing an area of grass
·To rot: To decay
·Grave: a place in the ground where a dead person is buried

THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW

The Legend of Sleepy Hollowby Washington Irving

Lee el texto (los términos destacados se incluyen en un glosario final y puedes visualizar ayuda online manteniendo el cursor sobre ellos)

The valley known as Sleepy Hollow hides from the world in the high hills of New York state. There are many stories told about the quiet valley. But the story that people believe most is about a man who rides a horse at night. The story says the man died many years ago during the American revolutionary war. His head was shot off. Every night he rises from his burial place, jumps on his horse and rides through the valley looking for his lost head.

Near Sleepy Hollow is a village called Tarry Town. It was settled many years ago by people from Holland. The village had a small school. And one teacher, named Ichabod Crane. Ichabod Crane was a good name for him, because he looked like a tall bird, a crane. He was tall and thin like a crane. His shoulders were small, joined two long arms. His head was small, too, and flat on top. He had big ears, large glassy green eyes and a long nose.

Ichabod did not make much money as a teacher. And although he was tall and thin, he ate like a fat man. To help him pay for his food he earned extra money teaching young people to sing. Every Sunday after church Ichabod taught singing.

Among the ladies Ichabod taught was one Katrina Van Tassel. She was the only daughter of a rich Dutch farmer. She was a girl in bloom…much like a round red, rosy apple. Ichabod had a soft and foolish heart for the ladies, and soon found himself interested in Miss Van Tassel.

Ichabod's eyes opened wide when he saw the riches of Katrina's farm: the miles of apple trees and wheat fields, and hundreds of fat farm animals. He saw himself as master of the Van Tassel farm with Katrina as his wife.

But there were many problems blocking the road to Katrina's heart. One was a strong young man named Brom Van Brunt. Brom was a hero to all the young ladies. His shoulders were big. His back was wide. And his hair was short and curly. He always won the horse races in Tarry Town and earned many prizes. Brom was never seen without a horse.

Sometimes late at night Brom and his friends would rush through town shouting loudly from the backs of their horses. Tired old ladies would awaken from their sleep and say: "Why, there goes Brom Van Brunt leading his wild group again!"

Such was the enemy Ichabod had to defeat for Katrina's heart.

Stronger and wiser men would not have tried. But Ichabod had a plan. He could not fight his enemy in the open. So he did it silently and secretly. He made many visits to Katrina's farm and made her think he was helping her to sing better.

Time passed, and the town people thought Ichabod was winning. Brom's horse was never seen at Katrina's house on Sunday nights anymore.

One day in autumn Ichabod was asked to come to a big party at the Van Tassel home. He dressed in his best clothes. A farmer loaned him an old horse for the long trip to the party.

The house was filled with farmers and their wives, red-faced daughters and clean, washed sons. The tables were filled with different things to eat. Wine filled many glasses.

Brom Van Brunt rode to the party on his fastest horse called Daredevil. All the young ladies smiled happily when they saw him. Soon music filled the rooms and everyone began to dance and sing.

Ichabod was happy dancing with Katrina as Brom looked at them with a jealous heart. The night passed. The music stopped, and the young people sat together to tell stories about the revolutionary war.

Soon stories about Sleepy Hollow were told. The most feared story was about the rider looking for his lost head. One farmer told how he raced the headless man on a horse. The farmer ran his horse faster and faster. The horseman followed over bush and stone until they came to the end of the valley. There the headless horseman suddenly stopped. Gone were his clothes and his skin. All that was left was a man with white bones shining in the moonlight.

The stories ended and time came to leave the party. Ichabod seemed very happy until he said goodnight to Katrina. Was she ending their romance? He left feeling very sad. Had Katrina been seeing Ichabod just to make Brom Van Brunt jealous so he would marry her?

Well, Ichabod began his long ride home on the hills that surround Tarry Town. He had never felt so lonely in his life. He began to whistle as he came close to the tree where a man had been killed years ago by rebels.

He thought he saw something white move in the tree. But no, it was only the moonlight shining and moving on the tree. Then he heard a noise. His body shook. He kicked his horse faster. The old horse tried to run, but almost fell in the river, instead. Ichabod hit the horse again. The horse ran fast and then suddenly stopped, almost throwing Ichabod forward to the ground.

There, in the dark woods on the side of the river where the bushes grow low, stood an ugly thing. Big and black. It did not move, but seemed ready to jump like a giant monster.

Ichabod's hair stood straight up. It was too late to run, and in his fear, he did the only thing he could. His shaking voice broke the silent valley.

"Who are you?" The thing did not answer. Ichabod asked again. Still no answer. Ichabod's old horse began to move forward. The black thing began to move along the side of Ichabod's horse in the dark. Ichabod made his horse run faster. The black thing moved with them. Side by side they moved, slowly at first. And not a word was said.

Ichabod felt his heart sink. Up a hill they moved above the shadow of the trees. For a moment the moon shown down and to Ichabod's horror he saw it was a horse. And it had a rider. But the rider's head was not on his body. It was in front of the rider, resting on the horse.

Ichabod kicked and hit his old horse with all his power. Away they rushed through bushes and trees across the valley of Sleepy Hollow. Up ahead was the old church bridge where the headless horseman stops and returns to his burial place.

"If only I can get there first, I am safe," thought Ichabod. He kicked his horse again. The horse jumped on to the bridge and raced over it like the sound of thunder. Ichabod looked back to see if the headless man had stopped. He saw the man pick up his head and throw it with a powerful force. The head hit Ichabod in the face and knocked him off his horse to the dirt below.

They found Ichabod's horse the next day peacefully eating grass. They could not find Ichabod.

They walked all across the valley. They saw the foot marks of Ichabod's horse as it had raced through the valley. They even found Ichabod's old hat in the dust near the bridge. But they did not find Ichabod. The only other thing they found was lying near Ichabod's hat.

It was the broken pieces of a round orange pumpkin.

The town people talked about Ichabod for many weeks. They remembered the frightening stories of the valley. And finally they came to believe that the headless horseman had carried Ichabod away.

Much later an old farmer returned from a visit to New York City. He said he was sure he saw Ichabod there. He thought Ichabod silently left Sleepy Hollow because he had lost Katrina.

As for Katrina, her mother and father gave her a big wedding when she married Brom Van Brunt. Many people who went to the wedding saw that Brom smiled whenever Ichabod's name was spoken. And they wondered why he laughed out loud when anyone talked about the broken orange pumpkin found lying near Ichabod's old dusty hat.

Glossary: ·Burial: an area of land where dead bodies are buried
·Crane: a tall bird with long thin legs and a long neck
·Glassy: a person's eyes when they have a fixed expression and seem unable to see anything
·Bloom: a person who is blooming has a healthy, energetic and attractive appearance
·Fool: a person who behaves in a silly way without thinking
·Wheat: a plant whose yellowish brown grain is used for making flour, or the grain itself
·Block: something that stops something else passing through, or when something does this
·Curl: a piece of hair which grows or has been formed into a curving shape, or something that is the same shape as this
·To rush: go or do something very quickly
·Wise: possessing or showing the ability to make good judgments, based on a deep understanding and experience of life·Bush: a low densely branched shrub
·Stone: the hard solid substance found in the ground which is often used for building, or a piece of this
·Shine: when something is bright from reflected light on its surface
·To whistle: to make a high sound by forcing air through a small hole or passage, especially through the lips, or through a special device held to the lips
·Dust: dry dirt in the form of powder that covers surfaces inside a building, or very small dry pieces of earth, sand or other substances
·Pumpkin: a large round vegetable with hard yellow or orange flesh

DRACULA

Just as I had come to this conclusion I heard a heavy step approaching behind the great door, and saw through the chinks the gleam of a coming light. Then there was the sound of rattling chains and the clanking of massive bolts drawn back. A key was turned with the loud grating noise of long disuse, and the great door swung back.

Within, stood a tall old man, clean shaven save for a long white moustache, and clad in black from head to foot, without a single speck of colour about him anywhere. He held in his hand an antique silver lamp, in which the flame burned without a chimney or globe of any kind, throwing long quivering shadows as it flickered in the draught of the open door.

The old man motioned me in with his right hand with a courtly gesture, saying in excellent English, but with a strange intonation.

"Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your own free will!"

He made no motion of stepping to meet me, but stood like a statue, as though his gesture of welcome had fixed him into stone.

The instant, however, that I had stepped over the threshold, he moved impulsively forward, and holding out his hand grasped mine with a strength which made me wince, an effect which was not lessened by the fact that it seemed cold as ice, more like the hand of a dead than a living man.

Again he said.

"Welcome to my house! Enter freely. Go safely, and leave something of the happiness you bring!" The strength of the handshake was so much akin to that which I had noticed in the driver, whose face I had not seen, that for a moment I doubted if it were not the same person to whom I was speaking.

So to make sure, I said interrogatively, "Count Dracula?" He bowed in a courtly was as he replied, "I am Dracula, and I bid you welcome, Mr. Harker, to my house. Come in, the night air is chill, and you must need to eat and rest." As he was speaking, he put the lamp on a bracket on the wall, and stepping out, took my luggage. He had carried it in before I could forestall him. I protested, but he insisted. "Nay, sir, you are my guest. It is late, and my people are not available.

Let me see to your comfort myself. "He insisted on carrying my traps along the passage, and then up a great winding stair, and along another great passage, on whose stone floor our steps rang heavily.

At the end of this he threw open a heavy door, and I rejoiced to see within a well-lit room in which a table was spread for supper, and on whose mighty hearth a great fire of logs, freshly replenished, flamed and flared.

The Count halted, putting down my bags, closed the door, and crossing the room, opened another door, which led into a small octagonal room lit by a single lamp, and seemingly without a window of any sort. Passing through this, he opened another door, and motioned me to enter. It was a welcome sight. For here was a great bedroom well lighted and warmed with another log fire, also added to but lately, for the top logs were fresh, which sent a hollow roar up the wide chimney. The Count himself left my luggage inside and withdrew, saying, before he closed the door.

"You will need, after your journey, to refresh yourself by making your toilet. I trust you will find all you wish. When you are ready, come into the other room, where you will find your supper prepared."

The light and warmth and the Count's courteous welcome seemed to have dissipated all my doubts and fears. Having then reached my normal state, I discovered that I was half famished with hunger. So making a hasty toilet, I went into the other room.

Contesta las siguientes preguntas de comprensión

Choose the best answer, a), b) or c)

1. The man who opened the door and welcomed the guest was

2. The man who opened the door was
3. When the guest finally got upstairs and saw his room he was

4. The guest is going to eat supper

5. Would you describe the host as being

THE SCARLET LETTER

The founders of a new colony, whatever Utopia of human virtue and happiness they might originally project, have invariably recognised it among their earliest practical necessities to allot a portion of the virgin soil as a cemetery, and another portion as the site of a prison. In accordance with this rule it may safely be assumed that the forefathers of Boston had built the first prison-house somewhere in the Vicinity of Cornhill, almost as

seasonably as they marked out the first burial-ground, on Isaac Johnson's lot, and round about his grave, which subsequently became the nucleus of all the congregated sepulchres in the old churchyard of King's Chapel. Certain it is that, some fifteen or twenty years after the settlement of the town, the wooden jail was already marked with weather-stains and other indications of age, which gave a yet darker aspect to its beetle-browed and gloomy front. The rust on the ponderous iron-work of its oaken door looked more antique than anything else in the New World. Like all that pertains to crime, it seemed never to have known a youthful era. Before this ugly edifice, and between it and the wheel-track of the street, was a grass-plot, much overgrown with burdock, pig-weed, apple-pern, and such unsightly vegetation, which evidently found something congenial in the soil that had so early borne the black flower of civilised society, a prison. But on one side of the portal, and rooted almost at the threshold, was a wild rose-hush, covered, in this month of June, with its delicate gems, which might be imagined to offer their fragrance and fragile beauty to the prisoner as he went in, and to the condemned criminal as he came forth to his doom, in token that the deep heart of Nature could pity and be kind to him.

This rose-bush, by a strange chance, has been kept alive in history; but whether it had merely survived out of the stern old wilderness, so long after the fall of the gigantic pines and oaks that originally overshadowed it, or whether, as there is far authority for believing, it had sprung up under the footsteps of the sainted Ann Hutchinson as she entered the prison-door, we shall not take upon us to determine. Finding it so directly on the threshold of our narrative, which is now about to issue from that inauspicious portal, we could hardly do otherwise than pluck one of its flowers, and present it to the reader. It may serve, let us hope, to symbolise some sweet moral blossom that may be found along the track, or relieve the darkening close of a tale of human frailty and sorrow.

Contesta las siguientes preguntas de comprensión

Choose the best answer, a), b) or c)

1. When humans decide to live and settle down in a new place, two of the first things they usually create are

2. Alternative words for ‘church’, ‘grave’ and ‘prison’ in the text are
3. Would you describe the description of the front of the prison as being generally

4. An attractive thing at the entrance to the prison is

5. Who takes one of the flowers and presents it to the reader?

JANE EYRE

There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning; but since dinner (Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, dined early) the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so sombre, and a rain so penetrating, that further out-door exercise was now out of the question.

I was glad of it: I never liked long walks, especially on chilly

afternoons: dreadful to me was the coming home in the raw twilight, with nipped fingers and toes, and a heart saddened by the chidings of Bessie, the nurse, and humbled by the consciousness of my physical inferiority to Eliza, John, and Georgiana Reed.

The said Eliza, John, and Georgiana were now clustered round their mama in the drawing-room: she lay reclined on a sofa by the fireside, and with her darlings about her (for the time neither quarrelling nor crying) looked perfectly happy. Me, she had dispensed from joining the group; saying, "She regretted to be under the necessity of keeping me at a distance; but that until she heard from Bessie, and could discover by her own observation, that I was endeavouring in good earnest to acquire a more sociable and childlike disposition, a more attractive and sprightly manner --something lighter, franker, more natural, as it were-- she really must exclude me from privileges intended only for contented, happy, little children."

"What does Bessie say I have done?" I asked.

"Jane, I don't like cavillers or questioners; besides, there is something truly forbidding in a child taking up her elders in that manner. Be seated somewhere; and until you can speak pleasantly, remain silent."

A breakfast-room adjoined the drawing-room, I slipped in there. It contained a bookcase: I soon possessed myself of a volume, taking care that it should be one stored with pictures. I mounted into the window-seat: gathering up my feet, I sat cross-legged, like a Turk; and, having drawn the red moreen curtain nearly close, I was shrined in double retirement.

Folds of scarlet drapery shut in my view to the right hand; to the left were the clear panes of glass, protecting, but not separating me from the drear November day. At intervals, while turning over the leaves of my book, I studied the aspect of that winter afternoon. Afar, it offered a pale blank of mist and cloud; near a scene of wet lawn and storm-beat shrub, with ceaseless rain sweeping away wildly before a long and lamentable blast.

I returned to my book--Bewick's History of British Birds: the letterpress thereof I cared little for, generally speaking; and yet there were certain introductory pages that, child as I was, I could not pass quite as a blank. They were those which treat of the haunts of sea-fowl; of "the solitary rocks and promontories" by them only inhabited; of the coast of Norway, studded with isles from its southern extremity, the Lindeness, or Naze, to the North Cape -

Contesta las siguientes preguntas de comprensión

Choose the best answer, a), b) or c)

1. They couldn’t go for a walk because

2. How many reasons does Jane (the narrator) give for not liking long walks?
3. Jane isn’t allowed to be with the other children because

4. Jane goes into another room to

5. Jane’s mood is probably

ALICE IN WONDERLAND (Alicia en el país de las maravillas)

Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, 'and what is the use of a book,' thought Alice 'without pictures or conversation?'

So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.

There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, 'Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late!' (when she thought it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat-pocket, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and fortunately was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge.

In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.

The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well.

Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to wonder what was going to happen next. First, she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves; here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs. She took down a jar from one of the shelves as she passed; it was labelled 'ORANGE MARMALADE', but to her great disappointment it was empty: she did not like to drop the jar for fear of killing somebody, so managed to put it into one of the cupboards as she fell past it.

Contesta las siguientes preguntas de comprensión

Choose the best answer, a), b) or c)

1. What does ‘peeped into the book’ in the first paragraph mean?

2. What did Alice think was strange about the rabbit when it ran by her?
3. How did Alice get into the well?

4. The cupboards and bookshelves were

5. When Alice discovered that the jar of marmalade was empty she