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Read the excerpt from muir's essay "calypso borealis" and answer the question. [5] how long i sat beside calypso i don't know. hunger and weariness vanished, and only after the sun was low in the west i splashed on through the swamp, strong and exhilarated as if never more to feel any mortal care. at length i saw maple woods on a hill and found a log house. i was gladly received. "where ha ye come fra? the swamp, that awfu' swamp. what were ye doin' there? " etc. "mony a puir body has been lost in that muckle, cauld, dreary bog and never been found." when i told her i had entered it in search of plants and had been in it all day, she wondered how plants could draw me to these awful places, and said, "it's god's mercy ye ever got out." examine the details muir includes in this paragraph. which statement accurately explains how muir's response to nature compares to the log house owner's response? he is enthusiastic and in awe while she is doubtful and fearful. muir cautiously admires whereas the lady shows religious dedication. the lady is more interested in the bog while muir is fascinated by plants. they both admire nature—its intense dangers and its true treasures.

Is the slightly humorous tone of kristof's essay inappropriate for a discussion of deliberately killing wild animals? why or why not?

Select the contred text in the passage which sentence in this excerpt from john galsworthy's narrative essay "gone" reflects his view that there is no afterlife? an old woman and mrs. herd's sister were in the sitting-room, they showed us to the crazy, narrow stairway. though we lived distant but four hundred yards of a crows flight, we had never seen mrs. herd before, for that is the way of things in this land of minding one's own business a slight dark girlish-looking woman, almost quite refined away, and with those eyes of the dying, where the spirit is coming through, as it only does when it knows that al is over except just the passing. she lay in a double bed with clean white sheets. a white-washed room, so low that the ceiling almost touched our heads, some flowers in a bow, the small lattice window open. though it was hot in there, it was better far than the rooms of most families in towns, living on a wage of twice as much, for here was no sign of defeat in decency or cleanliness. in her face, as in poor herd's, was that same strange minging of resigned despair and almost eager appeal, so terrible to disappoint. yet, trying not to disappoint it, one felt guilty of treachery: what was the good, the kindness in making this poor bird flutter still with hope against the bars, when fast prison had so surely closed in round her? but what else could we do? we could not give her those glib assurances that naive souls make so easily to others concerning their after state. and the night was so beautiful, so utterly glamourously beautiful, with its star-flowers, and its silence and its trees clothed in moonlight. all was tranquil as a dream of sleep. but it was long before our hearts wandering with poor herd, would let us remember that she had slipped away into so beautiful a dream