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The day had been one of those unbearable ones, when every sound had set her teeth on edge like chalk creaking on a blackboard, when every word her father or mother said to her or did not say to her seemed an intentional injustice. And of course it would happen, as the end to such a day, that just as the sun went down the back of the mountain and the long twilight began, she noticed that Rollie was not around.



Tense with exasperation—she would simply explode if Mother got going—she began to call him in a carefully casual tone: "Here, Rollie! He-re, boy! Want to go for a walk, Rollie?" Whistling to him cheerfully, her heart full of wrath at the way the world treated her, she made the rounds of his haunts; the corner of the woodshed, where he liked to curl up on the wool of Father's discarded old windbreaker; the hay barn, the cow barn, the sunny spot on the side porch—no Rollie.



Perhaps he had sneaked upstairs to lie on her bed where he was not supposed to go—not that she would have minded! That rule was a part of Mother's fussiness, part too of Mother's bossiness. It was her bed, wasn't it? But was she allowed the say-so about it? Not on your life. They told her she could have things the way she wanted in her own room, now she was in her teens, but—her heart raged against the unfairness as she took the stairs stormily, two steps at a time, her pigtails flopping up and down on her back. If Rollie was on her bed, she was just going to let him stay right there, and Mother could shake her head and mumble all she wanted to. But he was not there. The bedspread and pillow were crumpled, but not from his weight.



Earlier that afternoon, she had flung herself down to cry there. And then she couldn't. Every nerve in her had been twanging, but she couldn't cry. She could only lie there, her hands doubled up hard, furious that she had nothing to cry about. Not really. She was too big to cry just over Father's having said to her severely, "I told you if I let you take the chess set you were to put it away when you got through with it. One of the pawns was on the floor of our bedroom this morning. I stepped on it. If I'd had my shoes on, I'd have broken it."



Well, he had told her to be sure to put them away. And although she had forgotten and left them, he hadn't forbidden her ever to take the set again. No, the instant she thought about that, she knew she couldn't cry about it. She could be, and she was, in a rage about the way Father kept on talking, long after she'd got his point, "It's not that I care so much about the chess set," he said, just leaning with all his weight on being right, "it's because if you don't learn how to take care of things, you yourself will suffer for it later . . . . If we . . ." on and on, preaching and preaching.


Which statement most accurately describes the girl's feelings?
A. She is angry because the whole world seems against her.
B. She is unconcerned toward the way her parents treat her.
C. She is saddened by the sun's going down behind the mountain.
D. She is worried that her dog is gone forever.

Answer:

A

Explanation:

She seems angry at her dad that continues talking. At the begining she says unbearable which is when your on your last straw. "her heart raged against the unfairness as she took the stairs stormily..."

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Someone help me i need the answer

I wil give brainliest
Why are Piggy’s glasses important to the boys? How does Piggy feel about his glasses being taken and used by Jack and Ralph?

How does the structure support the big idea in this
section of the poem? Check all that apply.
The lines seem to float on the page like a bird's
feathers.
The stanzas seem to take the shape of bird wings.
The lines in the first stanza start long and then get
short, as if they are moving down.
The stanzas seem to take the shape of a bird's nest
in a tree.
The lines are spread all over the page like stars in
the sky

Please answer quickly! merry christmas (: Read the story.

“Life on the Sea”

The storm roiled on the horizon as rough waves rocked the helm of the fishing vessel. The captain had known the storm was coming—he had watched the weather reports for the past several days of the journey—but he started to question his decision as the waves got more powerful. One wave slapped the vessel and knocked him to the deck; when he stood up on unsteady feet, he grabbed the wheel with both hands. Though he had been a fishing boat captain for years and knew that the sea was the safest place for a vessel in a storm, these moments always terrified him.

He had spent most of his life on the sea; he knew the habits and nuances of the water like it was his closest friend. The calmness that he felt when the water was placid wasn’t like any stillness that he experienced on land. And though he didn’t like the choppy waves when he could barely stay upright, he knew that these moments were necessary too. It was like life—in order to get to the peace, he had to weather the storm.

His wife, Marla, didn’t understand his obsession with the water, why he spent months of the year navigating a boat full of crab fishermen to isolated spots of the ocean hundreds of miles from shore. She couldn’t grasp why he didn’t get the same satisfaction from life behind a desk—the stable job in an office downtown that Marla wanted him to have. He had tried things her way, but that had only lasted a couple years; after a while, she could tell that he was miserable, and she gave him her permission to do what he loved. He gave his job two weeks’ notice and was back on the sea right away.

He knew he missed things while he was away on these fishing boats: he listened to his wife’s voice over an unreliable cell phone connection. He’d had to watch his daughter Ky speak her first words on a video that chirped into his phone. And though he’d been there for her first steps, he’d missed her first day of preschool, and there would inevitably be other milestones that he would miss.

He stared into the blackness of the storm and knew that the fishermen below deck were relying on him to get them safely back to their families—he knew this because he was aware of how his own family relied on him. He knew that he had to stay focused, even when he wanted to think about what his wife was doing now. He would see her in a week—and he’d be able to take his daughter to school again. He’d be able to go to the grocery store and the park and do all the everyday things that he missed while at sea.

He touched the picture of his family that was inside his raincoat as the next wave approached. He imagined their voices telling him that they were proud of him, and it filled him with a strength that he hadn’t felt at other times during this journey. In the morning, the storm would die down, and he would enjoy the quiet. In the morning, he would call his daughter and tell her about the big storm and hear the wonder in her voice as he described the size of each wave. But for now, he was a man on a mission; he took a deep breath and held onto the steering wheel with every bit of his strength.

“Let’s go,” he thought as the biggest wave of all crashed into the boat.

Question 1
Part A

In the story "Life on the Sea," how does the captain mostly feel when he is on the sea?


proud

guilty

confident

miserable
Question 2
Part B

Which excerpts from the story best support the answer in Part A?

Select the two correct answers.


"He gave his job two weeks’ notice and was back on the sea right away."

"The calmness that he felt when the water was placid wasn’t like any stillness that he experienced on land."

"The storm roiled on the horizon as rough waves rocked the helm of the boat."

"He had spent most of his life on the sea; he knew the habits and nuances of the water like it was his closest friend."

In this excerpt from "Self-Reliance," Emerson uses the rhetorical technique of _____ to help persuade his readers.

Magic Johnson my dad saw him play was born in 1959 in Lansing, Michigan.

Where should the parentheses be placed?

katniss does not like peeta and will not eat cookies

Which statement best explains how details in the
passage develop the central idea that the leaders
believe that they deserve more?

Which of the following sentences is not punctuated correctly?
A. She was the sweetest and most generous person I have ever met.
B. This is the last long boring class I have left today.
C. Dallas is a huge and sprawling city.
D. Instead of carrying guns, the police in Britain carry long, metal
nightsticks.
SUBMIT

Which sentence is written in standard English?

It is awesome that you can help out with the party decorations.

The movie I watched last night was epic.

My grandmother made a really delicious pie for dessert.

The dinner I am cooking smells off the hook.

Read the paragraph.

Our school currently facilitates only a few methods to reduce waste. First, the administration provides blue bins for paper waste in each classroom. The lunchroom no longer provides single-use plastic straws. And last year, water bottle filling stations were installed in several hallways.

When taking notes on this paragraph, which phrase should go in the center circle of a web diagram?

a)methods to reduce waste
b)providing blue bins for paper
c)banning straws
d)installing filling stations

who is a potterhead?

Nobody would have known the truth if you had not disclosed it

what connotation does the word struggle have that adds to the poem's tone

What can you say about the quotation "BROADENING YOUR PERSPECTIVE CAN BE LIFE-ENHANCING"? do you agree with this?rush lang po slamat​

You've written nine grammatical and complete compound sentences, using each of the conjunctions from the chart: and, or, but, for, while, when, if, because and after. You use commas to correctly join independent clauses when needed.

what have you learn about vision and disillusion by reading this excerpt from Gulliver's travels?

Please help me ASAP please

5. For this principle of composition, you should isolate your subject to limit distractions. This is
called?

1. Write a paragraph about how to use a specific kind of self-service technology or machine. ( 100words)

If I could give you 1 thing in life I would give you the ability to see yourself threw my eyes only then would you realize how special you are to me and how much you mean to me

Every morning I lay on the floor in the front parlour watching her door. The blind was pulled down to within an inch of the sash so that I could not be seen. When she came out on the doorstep my heart leaped. I ran to the hall, seized my books and followed her. I kept her brown figure always in my eye and, when we came near the point at which our ways diverged, I quickened my pace and passed her. This happened morning after morning. I had never spoken to her, except for a few casual words, and yet her name was like a summons to all my foolish blood.

Her image accompanied me even in places the most hostile to romance. On Saturday evenings when my aunt went marketing I had to go to carry some of the parcels. We walked through the flaring streets, jostled by drunken men and bargaining women, amid the curses of labourers, the shrill litanies of shop-boys who stood on guard by the barrels of pigs’ cheeks, the nasal chanting of street-singers, who sang a come-all-you about O’Donovan Rossa, or a ballad about the troubles in our native land. These noises converged in a single sensation of life for me: I imagined that I bore my chalice safely through a throng of foes. Her name sprang to my lips at moments in strange prayers and praises which I myself did not understand. My eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to pour itself out into my bosom. I thought little of the future. I did not know whether I would ever speak to her or not or, if I spoke to her, how I could tell her of my confused adoration. But my body was like a harp and her words and gestures were like fingers running upon the wires.

One evening I went into the back drawing-room in which the priest had died. It was a dark rainy evening and there was no sound in the house. Through one of the broken panes I heard the rain impinge upon the earth, the fine incessant needles of water playing in the sodden beds. Some distant lamp or lighted window gleamed below me. I was thankful that I could see so little. All my senses seemed to desire to veil themselves and, feeling that I was about to slip from them, I pressed the palms of my hands together until they trembled, murmuring: “O love! O love!” many times.

At last she spoke to me. When she addressed the first words to me I was so confused that I did not know what to answer. She asked me was I going to Araby. I forgot whether I answered yes or no. It would be a splendid bazaar, she said she would love to go.

“And why can’t you?” I asked.

While she spoke she turned a silver bracelet round and round her wrist. She could not go, she said, because there would be a retreat that week in her convent. Her brother and two other boys were fighting for their caps and I was alone at the railings. She held one of the spikes, bowing her head towards me. The light from the lamp opposite our door caught the white curve of her neck, lit up her hair that rested there and, falling, lit up the hand upon the railing. It fell over one side of her dress and caught the white border of a petticoat, just visible as she stood at ease.

“It’s well for you,” she said.

“If I go,” I said, “I will bring you something.”

What innumerable follies laid waste my waking and sleeping thoughts after that evening! I wished to annihilate the tedious intervening days. I chafed against the work of school. At night in my bedroom and by day in the classroom her image came between me and the page I strove to read. The syllables of the word Araby were called to me through the silence in which my soul luxuriated and cast an Eastern enchantment over me. I asked for leave to go to the bazaar on Saturday night. My aunt was surprised and hoped it was not some Freemason affair. I answered few questions in class. I watched my master’s face pass from amiability to sternness; he hoped I was not beginning to idle. I could not call my wandering thoughts together. I had hardly any patience with the serious work of life which, now that it stood between me and my desire, seemed to me child’s play, ugly monotonous child’s play.

Paragraph 2 is primarily developed through
A.
contrasting symbols
B.
description
C.
parallel structure
D.
ironic commentary
E.
metaphor

The company’s CEO is very stingy with money. “Stingy” has a negative connotation.
TRUE OR FALSE????

identify whether the verb is likely active or passive are taught

​

My lazy brother hates to do his chores. What is the meaning of the word
lazy*

A)idle
B)young

Vick had just finished staining the bench outside the diner a nice shade of walnut . He looked over his work and smiled , then went off to his truck to fetch the "Wet Paint " sign. Strutting down the sidewalk, the lawyer Kip O'Neal felt himself sweating through his bright white leisure suit. Tired, he looked around for a place to sit and found a nice walnut bench . He plopped down on it . Which statement best explains the text's use of dramatic irony?

The thesis of a process analysis must identify:

a
What problems exist in the process
b
The outcome of the first step
c
The importance of the process
d
What the process does

people who report others questions are clearly unhappy with their lives.

sorry but facts

This quote from "The Polar Express" is an example of what type of figurative language?

"From outside came the sounds of hissing steam and squeaking metal."

-Alliteration

-Metaphor

-Simile

-Personification

Choose the correct word to complete the following sentence.

_____ students have finished.

We
Us