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PSAT PSAT-Reading 試験シラバストピック:

PSAT Preliminary Scholastic Aptitude Test - Reading 認定 PSAT-Reading 試験問題：

問題 #1

But the Dust-Bin was going down then, and your father took but little, excepting from a liquid point of view.
Your mother's object in those visits was of a house-keeping character, and you was set on to whistle your
father out. Sometimes he came out, but generally not. Come or not come, however, all that part of his
existence which was unconnected with open Waitering was kept a close secret, and was acknowledged
by your mother to be a close secret, and you and your mother flitted about the court, close secrets both of
you, and would scarcely have confessed under torture that you know your father, or that your father had
any name than Dick (which wasn't his name, though he was never known by any other), or that he had
kith or kin or chick or child.
Perhaps the attraction of this mystery, combined with your father's having a damp compartment, to
himself, behind a leaky cistern, at the Dust Bin, a sort of a cellar compartment, with a sink in it, and a smell,
and a plate-rack, and a bottle-rack, and three windows that didn't match each other or anything else, and
no daylight, caused your young mind to feel convinced that you must grow up to be a Waiter too; but you
did feel convinced of it, and so did all your brothers, down to your sister. Every one of you felt convinced
that you was born to the Waitering.
At this stage of your career, what was your feelings one day when your father came home to your mother
in open broad daylight, of itself an act of Madness on the part of a Waiter, and took to his bed (leastwise,
your mother and family's bed), with the statement that his eyes were devilled kidneys. Physicians being in
vain, your father expired, after repeating at intervals for a day and a night, when gleams of reason and old
business fitfully illuminated his being, "Two and two is five. And three is sixpence." Interred in the
parochial department of the neighbouring churchyard, and accompanied to the grave by as many Waiters
of long standing as could spare the morning time from their soiled glasses (namely, one), your bereaved
form was attired in a white neckankecher [sic], and you was took on from motives of benevolence at The
George and Gridiron, theatrical and supper. Here, supporting nature on what you found in the
plates(which was as it happened, and but too often thoughtlessly, immersed in mustard), and on what you
found in the glasses (which rarely went beyond driblets and lemon), by night you dropped asleep standing,
till you was cuffed awake, and by day was set to polishing every individual article in the coffee-room. Your
couch being sawdust; your counterpane being ashes of cigars. Here, frequently hiding a heavy heart
under the smart tie of your white neck ankecher (or correctly speaking lower down and more to the left),
you picked up the rudiments of knowledge from an extra, by the name of Bishops, and by calling
plate-washer, and gradually elevating your mind with chalk on the back of the corner-box partition, until
such time as you used the inkstand when it was out of hand, attained to manhood, and to be the Waiter
that you find yourself.
I could wish here to offer a few respectful words on behalf of the calling so long the calling of myself and
family, and the public interest in which is but too often very limited. We are not generally understood. No,
we are not. Allowance enough is not made for us. For, say that we ever show a little drooping listlessness
of spirits, or what might be termed indifference or apathy. Put it to yourself what would your own state of
mind be, if you was one of an enormous family every member of which except you was always greedy,
and in a hurry. Put it to yourself that you was regularly replete with animal food at the slack hours of one in
the day and again at nine p.m., and that the repleter [sic] you was, the more voracious all your
fellow-creatures came in. Put it to yourself that it was your business, when your digestion was well on, to
take a personal interest and sympathy in a hundred gentlemen fresh and fresh (say, for the sake of
argument, only a hundred), whose imaginations was given up to grease and fat and gravy and melted
butter, and abandoned to questioning you about cuts of this, and dishes of that, each of 'em going on as if
him and you and the bill of fare was alone in the world.
Why does the language "Two and two is five. And three is sixpence" 3rd paragraph illuminate rather than
confuse the character of the father on his deathbed?

A. It is reasonable that a father would be concerned about his family's finances following his death.
B. It was his practice the whole of his daily vocation.
C. It is normal for a dying person to speak of money or fortune upon their deathbed.
D. It was the amount being communicated that should be paid for his burial.
E. It indicates that he wanted his wife and son to be sure to get the money from the compartment.

問題 #2

Here my friend, about whose madness I now saw, or fancied that I saw, certain indications of method,
removed the peg which marked the spot where the beetle fell, to a spot about three inches to the
westward of its former position. Taking, now, the tape measure from the nearest point of the trunk to the
peg, as before, and continuing the extension in a straight line to the distance of fifty feet, a spot was
indicated, removed, by several yards, from the point at which we had been digging.
Around the new position a circle, somewhat larger than in the former instance, was now described, and
we again set to work with the spades. I was dreadfully weary, but, scarcely understanding what had
occasioned the change in my thoughts, I felt no longer any great aversion from the labor imposed. I had
become most unaccountably interested--nay, even excited. Perhaps there was something, amid all the
extravagant demeanor of Legrand--some air of forethought, or of deliberation, which impressed me. I dug
eagerly, and now and then caught myself actually looking, with something that very much resembled
expectation, for the fancied treasure, the vision of which had demented my unfortunate companion. At a
period when such vagaries of thought most fully possessed me, and when we had been at work perhaps
an hour and a half, we were again interrupted by the violent howlings of the dog. His uneasiness, in the
first instance, had been, evidently, but the result of playfulness or caprice, but he now assumed a bitter
and serious tone. Upon Jupiter's again attempting to muzzle him, he made furious resistance, and,
leaping into the hole, tore up the mould frantically with his claws. In a few seconds he had uncovered a
mass of human bones, forming two complete skeletons, intermingled with several buttons of metal, and
what appeared to be the dust of decayed woolen. One or two strokes of a spade upturned the blade of a
large Spanish knife, and, as we dug farther, three or four loose pieces of gold and silver coin came to
light.
At sight of these the joy of Jupiter could scarcely be restrained, but the countenance of his master wore an
air of extreme disappointment he urged us, however, to continue our exertions, and the words were hardly
uttered when I stumbled and fell forward, having caught the toe of my boot in a large ring of iron that lay
half buried in the loose earth.
We now worked in earnest, and never did I pass ten minutes of more intense excitement. During his
interval we had fairly unearthed an oblong chest of wood, which, from its perfect preservation and
wonderful hardness, had plainly been subjected to some mineralizing process--perhaps that of the
Bi-chloride of Mercury. This box was three feet and a half long, three feet broad, and two and a half feet
deep. It was firmly secured by bands of wrought iron, riveted, and forming a kind of open trelliswork over
the whole. On each side of the chest, near the top, were three rings of iron--six in all--by means of which a
firm hold could be obtained by six persons. Our utmost united endeavors served only to disturb the coffer
very slightly in its bed. We at once saw the impossibility of removing so great a weight. Luckily, the sole
fastenings of the lid consisted of two sliding bolts. These we drew back trembling and panting with anxiety.
In an instant, a treasure of incalculable value lay gleaming before us. As the rays of the lanterns fell within
the pit, there flashed upwards a glow and a glare, from a confused heap of gold and of jewels, that
absolutely dazzled our eyes.
I shall not pretend to describe the feelings with which I gazed. Amazement was, of course, predominant.
Legrand appeared exhausted with excitement, and spoke very few words. Jupiter's countenance wore, for
some minutes, as deadly a pallor as it is possible, in nature of things, for any negro's visage to assume.
He seemed stupefied thunderstricken. Presently he fell upon his knees in the pit, and, burying his naked
arms up to the elbows in gold, let them there remain, as if enjoying the luxury of a bath.
It became necessary, at last, that I should arouse both master and valet to the expediency of removing the
treasure. It was growing late, and it behooved us to make exertion, that we might get every thing housed
before daylight. It was difficult to say what should be done, and much time was spent in deliberation--so
confused were the ideas of all. We, finally, lightened the box by removing two thirds of its contents, when
we were enabled, with some trouble, to raise it from the hole. The articles taken out were deposited
among the brambles, and the dog left to guard them, with strict orders from Jupiter neither, upon any
pretence, to stir from the spot, nor to open his mouth until our return.
Which selection best represents the phrase "Here my friend, about whose madness I now saw, or fancied
that I saw, certain indications of method"?

A. The narrator only believes his friend has gone mad.
B. The narrator discovered the method or cause of his friend's madness.
C. The narrator finally realized his friend has gone mad.
D. The narrator understood his friend's methods as not mad.
E. The narrator realizes that his friend went mad only temporarily.

問題 #3

He was born a slave, but T. Thomas Fortune (18561928) went on to become a journalist, editor, and civil
rights activist, founding several early black newspapers and a civil rights organization that predated W. E.
B. DuBois' Niagara Movement (later the NAACP). Like many black leaders of his time, Fortune was torn
between the radical leanings of DuBois and the more conservative ideology of Booker T. Washington.
This 1884 essay, "The Negro and the Nation," dates from his more militant period.
The war of the Rebellion settled only one question: It forever settled the question of chattel slavery in this
country. It forever choked the life out of the infamy of the Constitutional right of one man to rob another, by
purchase of his person, or of his honest share of the produce of his own labor. But this was the only
question permanently and irrevocably settled. Nor was this the all-absorbing question involved. The right
of a state to secede from the socalled Union remains where it was when the treasonable shot upon Fort
Sumter aroused the people to all the horrors of internecine war. And the measure of protection which the
national government owes the individual members of states, a right imposed upon it by the adoption of the
Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution, remains still to be affirmed.
It was not sufficient that the federal government should expend its blood and treasure to unfetter the limbs
of four millions of people. There can be a slavery more odious, more galling, than mere chattel slavery. It
has been declared to be an act of charity to enforce ignorance upon the slave, since to inform his
intelligence would simply be to make his unnatural lot all the more unbearable. Instance the miserable
existence of .sop, the great black moralist. But this is just what the manumission of the black people of
this country try has accomplished. They are more absolutely under the control of the Southern whites;
they are more systematically robbed of their labor; they are more poorly housed, clothed and fed, than
under the slave regime; and they enjoy, practically, less of the protection of the laws of the state or of the
federal government. When they appeal to the federal government they are told by the Supreme Court to
go to the state authorities --as if they would have appealed to the one had the other given them that
protection to which their sovereign citizenship entitles them!
Practically, there is no law in the United States which extends its protecting arm over the black man and
his rights. He is, like the Irishman in Ireland, an alien in his native land. There is no central or auxiliary
authority to which he can appeal for protection. Wherever he turns he finds the strong arm of constituted
authority powerless to protect him. The farmer and the merchant rob him with absolute immunity, and
irresponsible ruffians murder him without fear of punishment, undeterred by the law, or by public
opinion--which connives at, if it does not inspire, the deeds of lawless violence. Legislatures of states
have framed a code of laws which is more cruel and unjust than any enforced by a former slave state.
The right of franchise has been practically annulled in every one of the former slave states, in not one of
which, today, can a man vote, think, or act as he pleases. He must conform his views to the views of the
men who have usurped every function of government--who, at the point of the dagger, and with shotgun,
have made themselves masters in defiance of every law or precedent in our history as a government.
They have usurped government with the weapons of the cowards and assassins, and they maintain
themselves in power by the most approved practices of the most odious of tyrants. These men have shed
as much innocent blood as the bloody triumvirate of Rome. Today, red handed murderers and assassins
sit in the high places of power, and bask in the smiles of innocence and beauty.
Now that slavery has been abolished, Fortune believes, black people

A. are protected by laws
B. can succeed in the white man's world
C. have fewer rights than before
D. inspire lawless violence
E. are chattel

問題 #4

Your knowledge of English Literature--to which I am indebted for the first faithful and intelligent translation
of my novels into the Italian language--has long since informed you, that there are certain important social
topics which are held to be forbidden to the English novelist (no matter how seriously and how delicately
he may treat them), by a narrow-minded minority of readers, and by the critics who flatter their prejudices.
You also know, having done me the honor to read my books; that I respect my art far too sincerely to
permit limits to be wantonly assigned to it, which are imposed in no other civilized country on the face of
the earth. When my work is undertaken with a pure purpose, I claim the same liberty which is accorded to
a writer in a newspaper, or to a clergyman in a pulpit; knowing, by pre-vious experience, that the increase
of readers and the lapse of time will assuredly do me justice, if I have only written well enough to deserve
it.
Which statement least describes the author's feelings about English critics?

A. They do not know how to deal with enlightened authors so they forbid the reading of them.
B. They wish their country to remain sheltered and backward by restricting authors' freedoms.
C. They think more of their artificial airs than of dealing with current social issues.
D. They are not educated enough to understand the social implications of these writings.
E. They are wont to hold others who express views in various forums to the same restrictions as literary
authors.

問題 #5

F. Scott Fitzgerald was a prominent American writer of the twentieth century. This passage comes from
one of his short stories and tells the story of a young John Unger leaving home for boarding school. John
T. Unger came from a family that had been well known in Hades a small town on the Mississippi River for
several generations. John's father had held the amateur golf championship through many a heated
contest; Mrs. Unger was known "from hot-box to hot-bed," as the local phrase went, for her political
addresses; and young John T. Unger, who had just turned sixteen, had danced all the latest dances from
New York before he put on long trousers. And now, for a certain time, he was to be away from home
That respect for a New England education which is the bane of all provincial places, which drains them
yearly of their most promising young men, had seized upon his parents.
Nothing would suit them but that he should go to St. Midas's School near Boston-Hades was too small to
hold their darling and gifted son. Now in Hades-as you know if you ever have been there the names of the
more fashionable preparatory schools and colleges mean very little. The inhabitants have been so long
out of the world that, though they make a show of keeping up-to-date in dress and manners and literature,
they depend to a great extent on hearsay, and a function that in Hades would be considered elaborate
would doubtless be hailed by a Chicago beef-princess as "perhaps a little tacky."
John T. Unger was on the eve of departure. Mrs. Unger, with maternal fatuity, packed his trunks full of
linen suits and electric fans, and Mr. Unger presented his son with an asbestos pocket-book stuffed with
money.
"Remember, you are always welcome here," he said. "You can be sure, boy, that we'll keep the home
fires burning." "I know," answered John huskily.
"Don't forget who you are and where you come from," continued his father proudly, "and you can do
nothing to harm you. You are an Unger-from Hades."
So the old man and the young shook hands, and John walked away with tears streaming from his eyes.
Ten minutes later he had passed outside the city limits and he stopped to glance back for the last time.
Over the gates the old-fashioned Victorian motto seemed strangely attractive to him. His father had tried
time and time again to have it changed to something with a little more push and verve about it, such as
"Hades-Your Opportunity," or else a plain "Welcome" sign set over a hearty handshake pricked out in
electric lights. The old motto was a little depressing, Mr. Unger had thought-but now.
So John took his look and then set his face resolutely toward his destination. And, as he turned away, the
lights of Hades against the sky seemed full of a warm and passionate beauty.
John's meditation on the town's sign in the passage serves primarily to suggest a contrast between

A. his father's commercialism and John's sentimentality.
B. his father's naivety and John's pragmatism.
C. the old-fashioned atmosphere in the town before John's father influenced it and its current modernity.
D. John's love of Victorian things and his father's love of modern things.
E. John's previous role as a part of the town and his new role as nostalgic outsider.

解説：