After school on Friday afternoons, to get ready for the weekend, Belle Bottom takes a napBelle Bottom takes a napa nap must be taken, she goes and picks upshe goes and picks uppicks up extra Cheetos, and also organizesalso organizesorganizes her video games.

Dearest Kitty,Our entire class is quaking in its boots. Thereason, of course, is the forthcoming meeting inwhich the teachers decide who’ll move up to thenext form and who’ll be kept back. Half the class ismaking bets. G.N. and I laugh ourselves silly at thetwo boys behind us, C.N. and Jacques, who havestaked their entire holiday savings on their bet.From morning to night, it’s “You’re going to pass”,“No, I’m not”, “Yes, you are”, “No, I’m not”. Even G.’spleading glances and my angry outbursts can’t calmthem down. If you ask me, there are so manydummies that about a quarter of the class shouldbe kept back, but teachers are the mostunpredictable creatures on earth

La Belle Dame sans MerciJohn Keats'O WHAT can ail thee, knight-at-arms,Alone and palely loitering?The sedge is wither'd from the lake,And no birds sing.'O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,5So haggard and so woe-begone?The squirrel's granary is full,And the harvest 's done.'I see a lily on thy browWith anguish moist and fever dew;10And on thy cheeks a fading roseFast withereth too.''I met a lady in the meads,Full beautiful—a faery's child,Her hair was long, her foot was light,15And her eyes were wild.'I made a garland for her head,And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;She look'd at me as she did love,And made sweet moan.20'I set her on my pacing steedAnd nothing else saw all day long,For sideways would she lean, and singA faery's song.'She found me roots of relish sweet,25And honey wild and manna dew,And sure in language strange she said,"I love thee true!"'She took me to her elfin grot,And there she wept and sigh'd fill sore;30And there I shut her wild, wild eyesWith kisses four.'And there she lullèd me asleep,And there I dream'd—Ah! woe betide!The latest dream I ever dream'd35On the cold hill's side.'I saw pale kings and princes too,Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;They cried—"La belle Dame sans MerciHath thee in thrall!"40'I saw their starved lips in the gloamWith horrid warning gapèd wide,And I awoke and found me here,On the cold hill's side.'And this is why I sojourn here45Alone and palely loitering,Though the sedge is wither'd from the lake,And no birds sing.'QuestionWhat is the purpose of the final four stanzas?ResponsesA It symbolically mirrors the knight’s inner conflict.It symbolically mirrors the knight’s inner conflict.B The refrain echoes stanza 1, thus providing much needed unity.The refrain echoes stanza 1, thus providing much needed unity.C It allows the speaker in stanza 1 to return and provide closure.It allows the speaker in stanza 1 to return and provide closure.D The knight finally answers the question posed in the beginning of the poem.

It was a typical dreary Friday in Mrs Nubble’s Year 7 English class.  The weak sunlight hardly bothered looking in through the grubby windows, and the faded motivational posters looked even yellower than usual.Maggie Loafer was nodding off at her desk, Johnny Bigglesworth was picking his nose, and the rest of Nubble 7b looked on sleepily as their teacher wrote Plot Structure on the whiteboard.“Class,” said Mrs Nubble, “today we’re learning how to plan a story.”“Boring,” groaned Maggie.  Mrs Nubble ignored her.  She knew how to handle a troublesome student. “Most stories follow the same structure:  They start.  We get a sense of the setting.  Then, we meet the characters.  This set up is called the exposition."Maggie yawned.  Big words always put her to sleep. “But…” Mrs Nubble paused dramatically, "just when we start to get comfortable with the characters, bad stuff happens.”Suddenly, the classroom door swung open and in stepped the biggest, meanest, and hairiest kid at Puddle Intermediate.  He had a full beard and huge muscles, which was a bit surprising for an 11-year-old.Mrs Nubble stifled a gasp.  “Oh my, I almost forgot.  7b, please welcome Brutus Barbarous.  He will be joining us for the rest of the term.  His other teacher came to an unfortunate end.  Please, make Brutus feel welcome, please.  I beg you.”  Maggie cast a worried look at Johnny.“Brutus, take a seat wherever you like.”Brutus strolled over to Mrs Nubble’s chair, plopped himself down, stuck his huge feet on her desk, and winked at Mrs Nubble. “The plot thickens,” he growled.Mrs Nubble coughed nervously and wrote conflict on the board.“As I said, after the exposition, the writer introduces some type of conflict.  Conflict can be between a goodie and a baddie, people and a disaster, a heroine and a giant purple-people-eating lizard from outer space.  Conflict can even be internal—emotional.  There are loads of options.”“I love all those options,” snarled Brutus. Mrs Nubble carried on bravely.  “A good plot isn’t an easy ride.  As a writer, you need to make it tough for your characters.  The tension keeps the reader glued to the story.”Brutus picked his teeth with Mrs Nubble’s favourite pen.  “The reader hopes for the best,” Mrs Nubble said, trying not to think of her pen.  “But, things get hard—real hard.”  Brutus cracked his knuckles and winked at Mrs Nubble.  “We call this rising action,” she said.“Class,” said Mrs Nubble, "the story has been building to this next moment.  Something big is about to happen.  We’re at the high point, the climax.”At that moment, Brutus stepped up and snatched Mrs Nubble’s whiteboard marker from her hand.  The class gasped.  He wrote this on the board under the climax: help arrives Brutus turned to the class.  “Finally, the bad guys are defeated, a great discovery is made, the storm finally stops, etc.  Basically, the struggle ends.  Get it?”The class nodded in perfect unison.  Mrs Nubble breathed a sigh of relief.  Then watched as Brutus wrote falling action on the board.  His penmanship is excellent, she thought.“Dear class,” said Brutus, “at this stage of the story, the characters want to celebrate, rebuild something, or find meaning in their experience.  The most important thing is that everyone is happy.  Conflict is forgiven, things are repaired, lessons have been learned.  Mrs Nubble, may I continue?”Unable to speak, Mrs Nubble simply nodded.  Brutus wrote resolution on the board.“The story is complete,” he said, with a surprisingly sweet smile.  “Friends, it is time to conclude.”  And he returned to his seat.Mrs Nubble applauded loudly and the class cheered.“Well done, Brutus!”Brutus beamed.  “I love a happy ending,”

...... tired Melissa is when she gets home from work, she always makes time to say goodnight to the children.*WhateverNo matter howHowever muchAlthough

Felicia is a school principal. She believes that her employees like to work and willseek out responsibility. Felicia follow the __________.A. McGregor's Theory XB. Ouchi's Theory ZC. Maslow's hierarchy of needsD. McGregor's Theory Y