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excerpt adapted from The School Days of an Indian Girlfrom American Indian Storiesby Zitkala-Sa (Gertrude Simmons Bonnin)There were eight in our party of bronzed children who were going East with the missionaries. Among us were three young braves, two tall girls, and we three little ones, Judéwin, Thowin, and I.We had been very impatient to start on our journey to the Red Apple Country, which, we were told, lay a little beyond the great circular horizon of the Western prairie. Under a sky of rosy apples we dreamt of roaming as freely and happily as we had chased the cloud shadows on the Dakota plains. We had anticipated much pleasure from a ride on the iron horse, but the throngs of staring palefaces disturbed and troubled us.On the train, fair women, with tottering babies on each arm, stopped their haste and scrutinized the children of absent mothers. Large men, with heavy bundles in their hands, halted near by, and riveted their glassy blue eyes upon us.I sank deep into the corner of my seat, for I resented being watched. Directly in front of me, children who were no larger than I hung themselves upon the backs of their seats, with their bold white faces toward me. Sometimes they took their forefingers out of their mouths and pointed at my moccasined feet. Their mothers, instead of reproving such rude curiosity, looked closely at me, and attracted their children's further notice to my blanket. This embarrassed me, and kept me constantly on the verge of tears.I sat perfectly still, with my eyes downcast, daring only now and then to shoot long glances around me. Chancing to turn to the window at my side, I was quite breathless upon seeing one familiar object. It was the telegraph pole which strode by at short paces. Very near my mother's dwelling, along the edge of a road thickly bordered with wild sunflowers, some poles like these had been planted by white men. Often I had stopped, on my way down the road, to hold my ear against the pole, and, hearing its low moaning, I used to wonder what the paleface had done to hurt it. Now I sat watching for each pole that glided by to be the last one.In this way I had forgotten my uncomfortable surroundings, when I heard one of my comrades call out my name. I saw the missionary standing very near, tossing candies and gums into our midst. This amused us all, and we tried to see who could catch the most of the sweetmeats. Though we rode several days inside of the iron horse, I do not recall a single thing about our luncheons.It was night when we reached the school grounds. The lights from the windows of the large buildings fell upon some of the icicled trees that stood beneath them. We were led toward an open door, where the brightness of the lights within flooded out over the heads of the excited palefaces who blocked our way. My body trembled more from fear than from the snow I trod upon.29Select the correct answer from the drop-down menu.Read the excerpt. Then choose the correct way to complete the paragraph.One theme in the excerpt is that people sometimes behave unkindly to those who are different from them. The author develops this theme by describing how the narrator

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excerpt adapted from The School Days of an Indian Girlfrom American Indian Storiesby Zitkala-Sa (Gertrude Simmons Bonnin)There were eight in our party of bronzed children who were going East with the missionaries. Among us were three young braves, two tall girls, and we three little ones, Judéwin, Thowin, and I.We had been very impatient to start on our journey to the Red Apple Country, which, we were told, lay a little beyond the great circular horizon of the Western prairie. Under a sky of rosy apples we dreamt of roaming as freely and happily as we had chased the cloud shadows on the Dakota plains. We had anticipated much pleasure from a ride on the iron horse, but the throngs of staring palefaces disturbed and troubled us.On the train, fair women, with tottering babies on each arm, stopped their haste and scrutinized the children of absent mothers. Large men, with heavy bundles in their hands, halted near by, and riveted their glassy blue eyes upon us.I sank deep into the corner of my seat, for I resented being watched. Directly in front of me, children who were no larger than I hung themselves upon the backs of their seats, with their bold white faces toward me. Sometimes they took their forefingers out of their mouths and pointed at my moccasined feet. Their mothers, instead of reproving such rude curiosity, looked closely at me, and attracted their children's further notice to my blanket. This embarrassed me, and kept me constantly on the verge of tears.I sat perfectly still, with my eyes downcast, daring only now and then to shoot long glances around me. Chancing to turn to the window at my side, I was quite breathless upon seeing one familiar object. It was the telegraph pole which strode by at short paces. Very near my mother's dwelling, along the edge of a road thickly bordered with wild sunflowers, some poles like these had been planted by white men. Often I had stopped, on my way down the road, to hold my ear against the pole, and, hearing its low moaning, I used to wonder what the paleface had done to hurt it. Now I sat watching for each pole that glided by to be the last one.In this way I had forgotten my uncomfortable surroundings, when I heard one of my comrades call out my name. I saw the missionary standing very near, tossing candies and gums into our midst. This amused us all, and we tried to see who could catch the most of the sweetmeats. Though we rode several days inside of the iron horse, I do not recall a single thing about our luncheons.It was night when we reached the school grounds. The lights from the windows of the large buildings fell upon some of the icicled trees that stood beneath them. We were led toward an open door, where the brightness of the lights within flooded out over the heads of the excited palefaces who blocked our way. My body trembled more from fear than from the snow I trod upon.29Select the correct answer from the drop-down menu.Read the excerpt. Then choose the correct way to complete the paragraph.One theme in the excerpt is that people sometimes behave unkindly to those who are different from them. The author develops this theme by describing how the narrator

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feels uncomfortable and scrutinized by the white people on the train. The author mentions instances where the narrator is pointed at, stared at, and made a spectacle of due to her different appearance and attire. This constant attention and lack of privacy makes the narrator feel like an outsider and highlights the theme of unkindness towards those who are different.

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Indian Girlfrom American Indian Storiesby Zitkala-Sa (Gertrude Simmons Bonnin)There were eight in our party of bronzed children who were going East with the missionaries. Among us were three young braves, two tall girls, and we three little ones, Judéwin, Thowin, and I.We had been very impatient to start on our journey to the Red Apple Country, which, we were told, lay a little beyond the great circular horizon of the Western prairie. Under a sky of rosy apples we dreamt of roaming as freely and happily as we had chased the cloud shadows on the Dakota plains. We had anticipated much pleasure from a ride on the iron horse, but the throngs of staring palefaces disturbed and troubled us.On the train, fair women, with tottering babies on each arm, stopped their haste and scrutinized the children of absent mothers. Large men, with heavy bundles in their hands, halted near by, and riveted their glassy blue eyes upon us.I sank deep into the corner of my seat, for I resented being watched. Directly in front of me, children who were no larger than I hung themselves upon the backs of their seats, with their bold white faces toward me. Sometimes they took their forefingers out of their mouths and pointed at my moccasined feet. Their mothers, instead of reproving such rude curiosity, looked closely at me, and attracted their children's further notice to my blanket. This embarrassed me, and kept me constantly on the verge of tears.I sat perfectly still, with my eyes downcast, daring only now and then to shoot long glances around me. Chancing to turn to the window at my side, I was quite breathless upon seeing one familiar object. It was the telegraph pole which strode by at short paces. Very near my mother's dwelling, along the edge of a road thickly bordered with wild sunflowers, some poles like these had been planted by white men. Often I had stopped, on my way down the road, to hold my ear against the pole, and, hearing its low moaning, I used to wonder what the paleface had done to hurt it. Now I sat watching for each pole that glided by to be the last one.In this way I had forgotten my uncomfortable surroundings, when I heard one of my comrades call out my name. I saw the missionary standing very near, tossing candies and gums into our midst. This amused us all, and we tried to see who could catch the most of the sweetmeats. Though we rode several days inside of the iron horse, I do not recall a single thing about our luncheons.It was night when we reached the school grounds. The lights from the windows of the large buildings fell upon some of the icicled trees that stood beneath them. We were led toward an open door, where the brightness of the lights within flooded out over the heads of the excited palefaces who blocked our way. My body trembled more from fear than from the snow I trod upon.29Select the correct answer from the drop-down menu.Read the excerpt. Then choose the correct way to complete the paragraph.One theme in the excerpt is that people sometimes behave unkindly to those who are different from them. The author develops this theme by describing how the narrator .

The following text is adapted from Indian Boyhood, a 1902 memoir by Ohiyesa (Charles A. Eastman), a Santee Dakota writer. In the text, Ohiyesa recalls how the women in his tribe harvested maple syrup during his childhood. Now the women began to test the trees—moving leisurely among them, axe in hand, and striking a single quick blow, to see if the sap would appear. The trees, like people, have their individual characters; some were ready to yield up their life-blood, while others were more reluctant. Now one of the birchen basins was set under each tree, and a hardwood chip driven deep into the cut which the axe had made. From the corners of this chip— at first drop by drop, then more freely—the sap trickled into the little dishes.5 Mark For ReviewWhich choice best describes the function of the underlined sentence in the text as a whole? A) It portrays the range of personality traits displayed by the women as they work. B) It foregrounds the beneficial relationship between humans and maple trees. C) It demonstrates how human behavior can be influenced by the natural environment. D) It elaborates on an aspect of the maple trees that the women evaluate.

Select the correct text in the passage.Which sentence best develops the idea that Zitkála-Šá is disappointed the ride on the train was not the fun adventure she had hoped?(1) There were eight in our party of bronzed children who were going East with the missionaries. Among us were three young braves, two tall girls, and we three little ones, Judéwin, Thowin, and I.(2) We had been very impatient to start on our journey to the Red Apple Country, which, we were told, lay a little beyond the great circular horizon of the Western prairie. Under a sky of rosy apples we dreamt of roaming as freely and happily as we had chased the cloud shadows on the Dakota plains. We had anticipated much pleasure from a ride on the iron horse, but the throngs of staring palefaces disturbed and troubled us.(3) On the train, fair women, with tottering babies on each arm, stopped their haste and scrutinized the children of absent mothers. Large men, with heavy bundles in their hands, halted near by, and riveted their glassy blue eyes upon us.

"The School Days of an Indian Girl" by Zitkala (Gertrude Bonnin). Then answer the question.Zitkala presents her strongest argument at the end of passage:A.in order to hide her weaker arguments.B.in order to create a less serious mood.C.so that the reader will remember the way she was mistreated.D.so that the reader will forget the details from the rest of the passage.SUBMITarrow_backPREVIOUS

On the Way to the MissionNote: This essay is a historical document that contains the word “Indian” in reference to people Indigenous to North America. In earlier times, this was considered an acceptable term for referring to Indigenous people, but today the term is outdated and inappropriate unless reading directly from a historical document or work of literature. Any questions related to this passage will use more appropriate terminology unless it is directly quoting the passage.They dogged him all one afternoonThrough the bright snow,Two white men, servants of greed;He knew that they were there,But he turned not his head;He was an Indian trapper;He planted his snow-shoes firmly,He dragged the long tobogganWithout rest.The three figures driftedLike shadows in the mind of a seer;The snow-shoes were the whisperersOn the threshold of awe;The toboggan made the sound of wings,A wood pigeon sloping to her nest.The Indian’s face was calm,He strode with the sorrow of fore-knowledge.But his eyes were jewels of contentSet in circles of peace.They would have shot him;But momently in the deep forest,They saw something flit by his side;Their hearts stopped with fear.Then the moon rose.They would have left him to the spirit,But they saw the long tobogganRounded well with furs,With many a silver fox-skin,With the pelts of mink and otter,They were the servants of greed;When the moon grew brighterAnd the spruces were dark with sleet.They shot him.When he fell on a shield of moonlightOne of his arms clung to his burden;The snow was not melted:The spirit passed away—Then the servants of greedTore off the cover to count their gains;They shuddered away into the shadows,Hearing each the loud heart of the other,Silence was born.There in the tender moonlight,As sweet as they were in life,Glimmered the ivory featuresOf the Indian’s wife.In the manner of Montagnais womenHer hair was rolled with braid;Under her waxen fingersA crucifix was laid.He was drawing her down to the mission,To bury her there in the spring,When the blood root comes and the windflowerTo silver everything.But as a gift of plunderSide by side were they laid,The moon went on with her settingAnd covered them with shade.—by D. C. ScottThe phrase “A wood pigeon sloping to her nest” contains an example ofasimile bmetaphorcalliteration dpersonification

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