20. The rote work of stamping labels gave her time to dream. 1 point
a. Rote is used correctly
b. Rote is used incorrectly

What makes the literal, word-for-word translation of the metamorphosis hard to read?

Javier is writing a literary analysis of the secret garden. read this introduction to his essay. frances burnett’s “the secret garden” explores the challenges of a sickly, self-centered little girl named mary lennox. after mary’s parents die of cholera, she moves from india to england to live at her uncle’s estate in yorkshire. while living at the old estate, mary discovers an abandoned garden that belonged to her deceased aunt. tending to the neglected garden brings mary joy, and her health improves. through mary’s transformation, burnett presents nature as a symbol of rebirth and healing. which piece of textual evidence should javier use to support the claim made in the introduction? a. “‘it’s in the garden no one can go into,’ she said to herself. ‘it’s the garden without a door. he lives in there. how i wish i could see what it is like! ’” b. “in india she had always felt hot and too languid to care much about anything. the fact was that the fresh wind from the moor had begun to blow the cobwebs out of her young brain and to waken her up a little.” c. “mary felt lonelier than ever when she knew she was no longer in the house. she went out into the garden as quickly as possible, and the first thing she did was to run round and round the fountain flower garden ten times.” d. “‘it isn’t a quite dead garden,’ she cried out softly to herself. ‘even if the roses are dead, there are other things alive.’”

Industrialization in europe changed the way people lived. the urban working class came into being, and with it came the drudgery of work. which two parts of this excerpt from franz kafka's the metamorphosis most closely reflect this impact of industrialization on people's lives? "what's happened to me? " he thought. it wasn't a dream. his room, a proper human room although a little too small, lay peacefully between its four familiar walls. a collection of textile samples lay spread out on the table—samsa was a travelling salesman—and above it there hung a picture that he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and housed in a nice, gilded frame. it showed a lady fitted out with a fur hat and fur boa who sat upright, raising a heavy fur muff that covered the whole of her lower arm towards the viewer. gregor then turned to look out the window at the dull weather. drops of rain could be heard hitting the pane, which made him feel quite sad. "how about if i sleep a little bit longer and forget all this nonsense," he thought, but that was something he was unable to do because he was used to sleeping on his right, and in his present state couldn't get into that position. however hard he threw himself onto his right, he always rolled back to where he was. he must have tried it a hundred times, shut his eyes so that he wouldn't have to look at the floundering legs, and only stopped when he began to feel a mild, dull pain there that he had never felt before. "oh, no", he thought, "what a strenuous career it is that i've chosen! travelling day in and day out. doing business like this takes much more effort than doing your own business at home, and on top of that there's the curse of travelling, worries about making train connections, bad and irregular food, contact with different people all the time so that you can never get to know anyone or become friendly with them. they can all go away! " he felt a slight itch up on his belly; pushed himself slowly up on his back towards the headboard so that he could lift his head better; found where the itch was, and saw that it was covered with lots of little white spots which he didn't know what to make of; and when he tried to feel the place with one of his legs he drew it quickly back because as soon as he touched it he was overcome by a cold shudder. he slid back into his former position. "getting up early all the time", he thought, "it makes you stupid. you've got to get enough sleep. other travelling salesmen live a life of luxury. for instance, whenever i go back to the guest house during the morning to copy out the contract, these gentlemen are always still sitting there eating their breakfasts. i ought to just try that with my boss; i'd get kicked out on the spot. but who knows, maybe that would be the best thing for me. if i didn't have my parents to think about i'd have given in my notice a long time ago, i'd have gone up to the boss and told him just what i think, tell him everything i would, let him know just what i feel."