English Reading Comprehension

Both the crow and mouse lived

Directions: Read the given passage carefully and answer the question that follows.

After flying for several hours, the crow began to feel tired. So he flew to the ground, laid his little companion down and gave vent to a number of hoarse cries, which frightened Hiranya, who asked him what was the matter.
"Nothing whatever," answered Laghupatin, "except that you are not so light as I thought you were and I need a rest; besides, I’m hungry and I expect you are too. We had better stop here for the night and start again tomorrow morning." Hiranya agreed to this, and after a good meal the two settled down to sleep; the crow in a tree, the mouse amongst its roots. Very early the next day they were off again and soon arrived at the river, where they were welcomed by the tortoise. The three talked together and agreed never to part again. The tortoise was a very pleasant companion; and even Laghupatin, who was very fond of talking himself, liked to listen to his stories of long ago.
"I wonder," said the tortoise, whose name was Mandharaka, to the mouse, "that you are not afraid to travel about as you have done, with your soft little body unprotected by any armour. Look how different it is for me; it is almost impossible for any wild creature to hurt me. See how thick and strong my armour is. The claws of a tiger or an eagle could not penetrate it. I am very much afraid, that you will be gobbled up one day and Laghupatin and I will seek for you in vain."
"Of course," said the mouse, "I know the truth of what you say; but I can very easily hide from danger—much more easily than you or Laghupatin. A tuft of moss or a few dead leaves are shelter enough for me, but big fellows like you and the crow can be quite easily seen. Nobody saw me when the pigeons were all caught except Laghupatin; and I would have kept out of his sight if I had not known that he did not care to eat mice."
In spite of the fears of Mandharaka, the mouse and the crow lived as his guests for a long time without any accident; and one day they were suddenly joined by a new companion, a creature as unlike any one of the three friends as could possibly be imagined. This was a very beautiful deer, who came bounding out of the forest, all eager to escape from the hunters, by whom he had been pursued, but too weary to reach the river, across which he had hoped to be able to swim to safety. Just as he reached the three friends, he fell to the ground, almost crushing the mouse, who darted away in the nick of time. Strange to say, the hunters did not follow the deer; and it was evident that they had not noticed the way he had gone.
The tortoise, the crow and the mouse were all very sorry for the deer, and, as was always the case, the crow was the first to speak. "Whatever has happened to you?" he asked. And the deer gave the answer:
"I thought my last hour had come this time, for the hunters were close upon me; and even now I do not feel safe."
"I'll fly up and take a look 'round," said Laghupatin; and off he went to explore, coming back soon, to say he had seen the hunters disappearing a long distance off, going in quite another direction from the river. Gradually the deer was reassured and lay still where he had fallen; whilst the three friends chatted away to him, telling him of their adventures. "What you had better do," said the tortoise, "is to join us. When you have had a good meal, and a drink from the river, you will feel a different creature. My old friend Laghupatin will be the one to keep watch for us all, and warn us of any danger approaching; I will give you the benefit of my long experience; and little Hiranya, though he is not likely to be of any use to you, will certainly never do you any harm."

Hiranya agreed to

Directions: Read the given passage carefully and answer the question that follows.

After flying for several hours, the crow began to feel tired. So he flew to the ground, laid his little companion down and gave vent to a number of hoarse cries, which frightened Hiranya, who asked him what was the matter.
"Nothing whatever," answered Laghupatin, "except that you are not so light as I thought you were and I need a rest; besides, I’m hungry and I expect you are too. We had better stop here for the night and start again tomorrow morning." Hiranya agreed to this, and after a good meal the two settled down to sleep; the crow in a tree, the mouse amongst its roots. Very early the next day they were off again and soon arrived at the river, where they were welcomed by the tortoise. The three talked together and agreed never to part again. The tortoise was a very pleasant companion; and even Laghupatin, who was very fond of talking himself, liked to listen to his stories of long ago.
"I wonder," said the tortoise, whose name was Mandharaka, to the mouse, "that you are not afraid to travel about as you have done, with your soft little body unprotected by any armour. Look how different it is for me; it is almost impossible for any wild creature to hurt me. See how thick and strong my armour is. The claws of a tiger or an eagle could not penetrate it. I am very much afraid, that you will be gobbled up one day and Laghupatin and I will seek for you in vain."
"Of course," said the mouse, "I know the truth of what you say; but I can very easily hide from danger—much more easily than you or Laghupatin. A tuft of moss or a few dead leaves are shelter enough for me, but big fellows like you and the crow can be quite easily seen. Nobody saw me when the pigeons were all caught except Laghupatin; and I would have kept out of his sight if I had not known that he did not care to eat mice."
In spite of the fears of Mandharaka, the mouse and the crow lived as his guests for a long time without any accident; and one day they were suddenly joined by a new companion, a creature as unlike any one of the three friends as could possibly be imagined. This was a very beautiful deer, who came bounding out of the forest, all eager to escape from the hunters, by whom he had been pursued, but too weary to reach the river, across which he had hoped to be able to swim to safety. Just as he reached the three friends, he fell to the ground, almost crushing the mouse, who darted away in the nick of time. Strange to say, the hunters did not follow the deer; and it was evident that they had not noticed the way he had gone.
The tortoise, the crow and the mouse were all very sorry for the deer, and, as was always the case, the crow was the first to speak. "Whatever has happened to you?" he asked. And the deer gave the answer:
"I thought my last hour had come this time, for the hunters were close upon me; and even now I do not feel safe."
"I'll fly up and take a look 'round," said Laghupatin; and off he went to explore, coming back soon, to say he had seen the hunters disappearing a long distance off, going in quite another direction from the river. Gradually the deer was reassured and lay still where he had fallen; whilst the three friends chatted away to him, telling him of their adventures. "What you had better do," said the tortoise, "is to join us. When you have had a good meal, and a drink from the river, you will feel a different creature. My old friend Laghupatin will be the one to keep watch for us all, and warn us of any danger approaching; I will give you the benefit of my long experience; and little Hiranya, though he is not likely to be of any use to you, will certainly never do you any harm."

What reason does the mouse give for not wearing armour?

Directions: Read the given passage carefully and answer the question that follows.

After flying for several hours, the crow began to feel tired. So he flew to the ground, laid his little companion down and gave vent to a number of hoarse cries, which frightened Hiranya, who asked him what was the matter.
"Nothing whatever," answered Laghupatin, "except that you are not so light as I thought you were and I need a rest; besides, I’m hungry and I expect you are too. We had better stop here for the night and start again tomorrow morning." Hiranya agreed to this, and after a good meal the two settled down to sleep; the crow in a tree, the mouse amongst its roots. Very early the next day they were off again and soon arrived at the river, where they were welcomed by the tortoise. The three talked together and agreed never to part again. The tortoise was a very pleasant companion; and even Laghupatin, who was very fond of talking himself, liked to listen to his stories of long ago.
"I wonder," said the tortoise, whose name was Mandharaka, to the mouse, "that you are not afraid to travel about as you have done, with your soft little body unprotected by any armour. Look how different it is for me; it is almost impossible for any wild creature to hurt me. See how thick and strong my armour is. The claws of a tiger or an eagle could not penetrate it. I am very much afraid, that you will be gobbled up one day and Laghupatin and I will seek for you in vain."
"Of course," said the mouse, "I know the truth of what you say; but I can very easily hide from danger—much more easily than you or Laghupatin. A tuft of moss or a few dead leaves are shelter enough for me, but big fellows like you and the crow can be quite easily seen. Nobody saw me when the pigeons were all caught except Laghupatin; and I would have kept out of his sight if I had not known that he did not care to eat mice."
In spite of the fears of Mandharaka, the mouse and the crow lived as his guests for a long time without any accident; and one day they were suddenly joined by a new companion, a creature as unlike any one of the three friends as could possibly be imagined. This was a very beautiful deer, who came bounding out of the forest, all eager to escape from the hunters, by whom he had been pursued, but too weary to reach the river, across which he had hoped to be able to swim to safety. Just as he reached the three friends, he fell to the ground, almost crushing the mouse, who darted away in the nick of time. Strange to say, the hunters did not follow the deer; and it was evident that they had not noticed the way he had gone.
The tortoise, the crow and the mouse were all very sorry for the deer, and, as was always the case, the crow was the first to speak. "Whatever has happened to you?" he asked. And the deer gave the answer:
"I thought my last hour had come this time, for the hunters were close upon me; and even now I do not feel safe."
"I'll fly up and take a look 'round," said Laghupatin; and off he went to explore, coming back soon, to say he had seen the hunters disappearing a long distance off, going in quite another direction from the river. Gradually the deer was reassured and lay still where he had fallen; whilst the three friends chatted away to him, telling him of their adventures. "What you had better do," said the tortoise, "is to join us. When you have had a good meal, and a drink from the river, you will feel a different creature. My old friend Laghupatin will be the one to keep watch for us all, and warn us of any danger approaching; I will give you the benefit of my long experience; and little Hiranya, though he is not likely to be of any use to you, will certainly never do you any harm."

The tortoise suggests that the deer

Directions: Read the given passage carefully and answer the question that follows.

After flying for several hours, the crow began to feel tired. So he flew to the ground, laid his little companion down and gave vent to a number of hoarse cries, which frightened Hiranya, who asked him what was the matter.
"Nothing whatever," answered Laghupatin, "except that you are not so light as I thought you were and I need a rest; besides, I’m hungry and I expect you are too. We had better stop here for the night and start again tomorrow morning." Hiranya agreed to this, and after a good meal the two settled down to sleep; the crow in a tree, the mouse amongst its roots. Very early the next day they were off again and soon arrived at the river, where they were welcomed by the tortoise. The three talked together and agreed never to part again. The tortoise was a very pleasant companion; and even Laghupatin, who was very fond of talking himself, liked to listen to his stories of long ago.
"I wonder," said the tortoise, whose name was Mandharaka, to the mouse, "that you are not afraid to travel about as you have done, with your soft little body unprotected by any armour. Look how different it is for me; it is almost impossible for any wild creature to hurt me. See how thick and strong my armour is. The claws of a tiger or an eagle could not penetrate it. I am very much afraid, that you will be gobbled up one day and Laghupatin and I will seek for you in vain."
"Of course," said the mouse, "I know the truth of what you say; but I can very easily hide from danger—much more easily than you or Laghupatin. A tuft of moss or a few dead leaves are shelter enough for me, but big fellows like you and the crow can be quite easily seen. Nobody saw me when the pigeons were all caught except Laghupatin; and I would have kept out of his sight if I had not known that he did not care to eat mice."
In spite of the fears of Mandharaka, the mouse and the crow lived as his guests for a long time without any accident; and one day they were suddenly joined by a new companion, a creature as unlike any one of the three friends as could possibly be imagined. This was a very beautiful deer, who came bounding out of the forest, all eager to escape from the hunters, by whom he had been pursued, but too weary to reach the river, across which he had hoped to be able to swim to safety. Just as he reached the three friends, he fell to the ground, almost crushing the mouse, who darted away in the nick of time. Strange to say, the hunters did not follow the deer; and it was evident that they had not noticed the way he had gone.
The tortoise, the crow and the mouse were all very sorry for the deer, and, as was always the case, the crow was the first to speak. "Whatever has happened to you?" he asked. And the deer gave the answer:
"I thought my last hour had come this time, for the hunters were close upon me; and even now I do not feel safe."
"I'll fly up and take a look 'round," said Laghupatin; and off he went to explore, coming back soon, to say he had seen the hunters disappearing a long distance off, going in quite another direction from the river. Gradually the deer was reassured and lay still where he had fallen; whilst the three friends chatted away to him, telling him of their adventures. "What you had better do," said the tortoise, "is to join us. When you have had a good meal, and a drink from the river, you will feel a different creature. My old friend Laghupatin will be the one to keep watch for us all, and warn us of any danger approaching; I will give you the benefit of my long experience; and little Hiranya, though he is not likely to be of any use to you, will certainly never do you any harm."

The tortoise wondered why the mouse

Directions: Read the given passage carefully and answer the question that follows.

After flying for several hours, the crow began to feel tired. So he flew to the ground, laid his little companion down and gave vent to a number of hoarse cries, which frightened Hiranya, who asked him what was the matter.
"Nothing whatever," answered Laghupatin, "except that you are not so light as I thought you were and I need a rest; besides, I’m hungry and I expect you are too. We had better stop here for the night and start again tomorrow morning." Hiranya agreed to this, and after a good meal the two settled down to sleep; the crow in a tree, the mouse amongst its roots. Very early the next day they were off again and soon arrived at the river, where they were welcomed by the tortoise. The three talked together and agreed never to part again. The tortoise was a very pleasant companion; and even Laghupatin, who was very fond of talking himself, liked to listen to his stories of long ago.
"I wonder," said the tortoise, whose name was Mandharaka, to the mouse, "that you are not afraid to travel about as you have done, with your soft little body unprotected by any armour. Look how different it is for me; it is almost impossible for any wild creature to hurt me. See how thick and strong my armour is. The claws of a tiger or an eagle could not penetrate it. I am very much afraid, that you will be gobbled up one day and Laghupatin and I will seek for you in vain."
"Of course," said the mouse, "I know the truth of what you say; but I can very easily hide from danger—much more easily than you or Laghupatin. A tuft of moss or a few dead leaves are shelter enough for me, but big fellows like you and the crow can be quite easily seen. Nobody saw me when the pigeons were all caught except Laghupatin; and I would have kept out of his sight if I had not known that he did not care to eat mice."
In spite of the fears of Mandharaka, the mouse and the crow lived as his guests for a long time without any accident; and one day they were suddenly joined by a new companion, a creature as unlike any one of the three friends as could possibly be imagined. This was a very beautiful deer, who came bounding out of the forest, all eager to escape from the hunters, by whom he had been pursued, but too weary to reach the river, across which he had hoped to be able to swim to safety. Just as he reached the three friends, he fell to the ground, almost crushing the mouse, who darted away in the nick of time. Strange to say, the hunters did not follow the deer; and it was evident that they had not noticed the way he had gone.
The tortoise, the crow and the mouse were all very sorry for the deer, and, as was always the case, the crow was the first to speak. "Whatever has happened to you?" he asked. And the deer gave the answer:
"I thought my last hour had come this time, for the hunters were close upon me; and even now I do not feel safe."
"I'll fly up and take a look 'round," said Laghupatin; and off he went to explore, coming back soon, to say he had seen the hunters disappearing a long distance off, going in quite another direction from the river. Gradually the deer was reassured and lay still where he had fallen; whilst the three friends chatted away to him, telling him of their adventures. "What you had better do," said the tortoise, "is to join us. When you have had a good meal, and a drink from the river, you will feel a different creature. My old friend Laghupatin will be the one to keep watch for us all, and warn us of any danger approaching; I will give you the benefit of my long experience; and little Hiranya, though he is not likely to be of any use to you, will certainly never do you any harm."

Whom did the mouse and crow meet at the river?

Directions: Read the given passage carefully and answer the question that follows.

After flying for several hours, the crow began to feel tired. So he flew to the ground, laid his little companion down and gave vent to a number of hoarse cries, which frightened Hiranya, who asked him what was the matter.
"Nothing whatever," answered Laghupatin, "except that you are not so light as I thought you were and I need a rest; besides, I’m hungry and I expect you are too. We had better stop here for the night and start again tomorrow morning." Hiranya agreed to this, and after a good meal the two settled down to sleep; the crow in a tree, the mouse amongst its roots. Very early the next day they were off again and soon arrived at the river, where they were welcomed by the tortoise. The three talked together and agreed never to part again. The tortoise was a very pleasant companion; and even Laghupatin, who was very fond of talking himself, liked to listen to his stories of long ago.
"I wonder," said the tortoise, whose name was Mandharaka, to the mouse, "that you are not afraid to travel about as you have done, with your soft little body unprotected by any armour. Look how different it is for me; it is almost impossible for any wild creature to hurt me. See how thick and strong my armour is. The claws of a tiger or an eagle could not penetrate it. I am very much afraid, that you will be gobbled up one day and Laghupatin and I will seek for you in vain."
"Of course," said the mouse, "I know the truth of what you say; but I can very easily hide from danger—much more easily than you or Laghupatin. A tuft of moss or a few dead leaves are shelter enough for me, but big fellows like you and the crow can be quite easily seen. Nobody saw me when the pigeons were all caught except Laghupatin; and I would have kept out of his sight if I had not known that he did not care to eat mice."
In spite of the fears of Mandharaka, the mouse and the crow lived as his guests for a long time without any accident; and one day they were suddenly joined by a new companion, a creature as unlike any one of the three friends as could possibly be imagined. This was a very beautiful deer, who came bounding out of the forest, all eager to escape from the hunters, by whom he had been pursued, but too weary to reach the river, across which he had hoped to be able to swim to safety. Just as he reached the three friends, he fell to the ground, almost crushing the mouse, who darted away in the nick of time. Strange to say, the hunters did not follow the deer; and it was evident that they had not noticed the way he had gone.
The tortoise, the crow and the mouse were all very sorry for the deer, and, as was always the case, the crow was the first to speak. "Whatever has happened to you?" he asked. And the deer gave the answer:
"I thought my last hour had come this time, for the hunters were close upon me; and even now I do not feel safe."
"I'll fly up and take a look 'round," said Laghupatin; and off he went to explore, coming back soon, to say he had seen the hunters disappearing a long distance off, going in quite another direction from the river. Gradually the deer was reassured and lay still where he had fallen; whilst the three friends chatted away to him, telling him of their adventures. "What you had better do," said the tortoise, "is to join us. When you have had a good meal, and a drink from the river, you will feel a different creature. My old friend Laghupatin will be the one to keep watch for us all, and warn us of any danger approaching; I will give you the benefit of my long experience; and little Hiranya, though he is not likely to be of any use to you, will certainly never do you any harm."

How did the three companions meet the deer?

Directions: Read the given passage carefully and answer the question that follows.

After flying for several hours, the crow began to feel tired. So he flew to the ground, laid his little companion down and gave vent to a number of hoarse cries, which frightened Hiranya, who asked him what was the matter.
"Nothing whatever," answered Laghupatin, "except that you are not so light as I thought you were and I need a rest; besides, I’m hungry and I expect you are too. We had better stop here for the night and start again tomorrow morning." Hiranya agreed to this, and after a good meal the two settled down to sleep; the crow in a tree, the mouse amongst its roots. Very early the next day they were off again and soon arrived at the river, where they were welcomed by the tortoise. The three talked together and agreed never to part again. The tortoise was a very pleasant companion; and even Laghupatin, who was very fond of talking himself, liked to listen to his stories of long ago.
"I wonder," said the tortoise, whose name was Mandharaka, to the mouse, "that you are not afraid to travel about as you have done, with your soft little body unprotected by any armour. Look how different it is for me; it is almost impossible for any wild creature to hurt me. See how thick and strong my armour is. The claws of a tiger or an eagle could not penetrate it. I am very much afraid, that you will be gobbled up one day and Laghupatin and I will seek for you in vain."
"Of course," said the mouse, "I know the truth of what you say; but I can very easily hide from danger—much more easily than you or Laghupatin. A tuft of moss or a few dead leaves are shelter enough for me, but big fellows like you and the crow can be quite easily seen. Nobody saw me when the pigeons were all caught except Laghupatin; and I would have kept out of his sight if I had not known that he did not care to eat mice."
In spite of the fears of Mandharaka, the mouse and the crow lived as his guests for a long time without any accident; and one day they were suddenly joined by a new companion, a creature as unlike any one of the three friends as could possibly be imagined. This was a very beautiful deer, who came bounding out of the forest, all eager to escape from the hunters, by whom he had been pursued, but too weary to reach the river, across which he had hoped to be able to swim to safety. Just as he reached the three friends, he fell to the ground, almost crushing the mouse, who darted away in the nick of time. Strange to say, the hunters did not follow the deer; and it was evident that they had not noticed the way he had gone.
The tortoise, the crow and the mouse were all very sorry for the deer, and, as was always the case, the crow was the first to speak. "Whatever has happened to you?" he asked. And the deer gave the answer:
"I thought my last hour had come this time, for the hunters were close upon me; and even now I do not feel safe."
"I'll fly up and take a look 'round," said Laghupatin; and off he went to explore, coming back soon, to say he had seen the hunters disappearing a long distance off, going in quite another direction from the river. Gradually the deer was reassured and lay still where he had fallen; whilst the three friends chatted away to him, telling him of their adventures. "What you had better do," said the tortoise, "is to join us. When you have had a good meal, and a drink from the river, you will feel a different creature. My old friend Laghupatin will be the one to keep watch for us all, and warn us of any danger approaching; I will give you the benefit of my long experience; and little Hiranya, though he is not likely to be of any use to you, will certainly never do you any harm."

The author lived in a distant part of the country

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question that follows.

One dull, dark day in autumn, I was traveling on horseback through a dreary stretch of the countryside. At nightfall, I came in sight of the House of Usher. This was the house of Roderick Usher, who had been my childhood pal. It had been umpteen years since he and I had seen each other. I lived in a distant part of the country during my childhood. However, he had recently corresponded with me telling me at length of a serious illness and a mental disturbance that was troubling him. Beleaguered by his problems, Roderick was leading the existence of a hermit.

Ravi loves to

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question that follows.

Ravi Shankar has a large circle of friends and is very popular at parties. Everybody admires him for his fine sense of humour—everybody, that is except his six-year old daughter, Meenakshi. Recently one of Ravi’s friends asked him to make a speech at a reception. This is the sort of thing that Ravi loves. He prepared the speech carefully and went to the party with Meenakshi. He had included a large number of funny stories in the speech and, of course it was a great success. As soon as he had finished, Meenakshi told him she wanted to go home. Ravi was a little disappointed by this but he did as his daughter asked. On the way home, he asked Meenakshi if she had enjoyed the speech. To his surprise, she said she had not. Ravi asked why this was so and she told him that she did not like to see so many people laughing at him.

The author came to know of his friend’s illness

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question that follows.

One dull, dark day in autumn, I was traveling on horseback through a dreary stretch of the countryside. At nightfall, I came in sight of the House of Usher. This was the house of Roderick Usher, who had been my childhood pal. It had been umpteen years since he and I had seen each other. I lived in a distant part of the country during my childhood. However, he had recently corresponded with me telling me at length of a serious illness and a mental disturbance that was troubling him. Beleaguered by his problems, Roderick was leading the existence of a hermit.

To the child, there is no glory in handling a spoon because

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question that follows.

Those of us who already possess knives and use them as a matter of course at our meals can hardly understand the longing of an infant to be given the freedom of so perilous an instrument. Man has been defined as a tool-using animal, and there is no other tool that appeals to the imagination as strongly as a knife. It is through long months and years, a forbidden thing, and all the more fascinating on that count. There is no glory in using a spoon. There is no honour in holding a fork in the right hand and in taking up on it little squares of meat that have been cut with a knife by some more privileged hand. Fork and spoon are little more than an extension of the fingers, and a spoon, at least, is so safe that it can be left in the hands of an infant in the cradle. But a knife is a danger against which constant warning is necessary — something out of reach and waiting as a prize at the end of a long avenue of years.

The child

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question that follows.

Those of us who already possess knives and use them as a matter of course at our meals can hardly understand the longing of an infant to be given the freedom of so perilous an instrument. Man has been defined as a tool-using animal, and there is no other tool that appeals to the imagination as strongly as a knife. It is through long months and years, a forbidden thing, and all the more fascinating on that count. There is no glory in using a spoon. There is no honour in holding a fork in the right hand and in taking up on it little squares of meat that have been cut with a knife by some more privileged hand. Fork and spoon are little more than an extension of the fingers, and a spoon, at least, is so safe that it can be left in the hands of an infant in the cradle. But a knife is a danger against which constant warning is necessary — something out of reach and waiting as a prize at the end of a long avenue of years.

The House of Usher was the home of

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question that follows.

One dull, dark day in autumn, I was traveling on horseback through a dreary stretch of the countryside. At nightfall, I came in sight of the House of Usher. This was the house of Roderick Usher, who had been my childhood pal. It had been umpteen years since he and I had seen each other. I lived in a distant part of the country during my childhood. However, he had recently corresponded with me telling me at length of a serious illness and a mental disturbance that was troubling him. Beleaguered by his problems, Roderick was leading the existence of a hermit.

Roderick

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question that follows.

One dull, dark day in autumn, I was traveling on horseback through a dreary stretch of the countryside. At nightfall, I came in sight of the House of Usher. This was the house of Roderick Usher, who had been my childhood pal. It had been umpteen years since he and I had seen each other. I lived in a distant part of the country during my childhood. However, he had recently corresponded with me telling me at length of a serious illness and a mental disturbance that was troubling him. Beleaguered by his problems, Roderick was leading the existence of a hermit.

Meenakshi failed to realise that

Directions: Read the passage and answer the question that follows.

Ravi Shankar has a large circle of friends and is very popular at parties. Everybody admires him for his fine sense of humour—everybody, that is except his six-year old daughter, Meenakshi. Recently one of Ravi’s friends asked him to make a speech at a reception. This is the sort of thing that Ravi loves. He prepared the speech carefully and went to the party with Meenakshi. He had included a large number of funny stories in the speech and, of course it was a great success. As soon as he had finished, Meenakshi told him she wanted to go home. Ravi was a little disappointed by this but he did as his daughter asked. On the way home, he asked Meenakshi if she had enjoyed the speech. To his surprise, she said she had not. Ravi asked why this was so and she told him that she did not like to see so many people laughing at him.