Reading Comprehension Test 41

[passage-header]Read the passage given below and answer the question that follows:[/passage-header]There are dull, mechanical fellows who turn out runs with as little emotion as a machine turns out pins. There is no colour, no enthusiasm, no character in their play. Cricket is not an adventure to them, it is a business. It was so with Shrewsbury. His technical perfection was astonishing, but the soul of the game was wanting in him. There was no sunshine in his play, no swift surprise of splendid unselfishness. And without these things, without gaiety, daring and the spirit of sacrifice, cricket is a dead thing.

[passage-header]Read the paragraph and complete the sentence given below:[/passage-header]After submitting his resignation, Albert came out and took the long narrow road leading to the railway station which was one of the busiest roads in the city. Sad, depressed, and worried about looking for a new job, Albert looked around for a cigarette shop. He walked up to the end of the road but found no tobacconist. It was odd that such a busy thoroughfare with thousands of people passing through did not even have a single cigarette shop. He suddenly felt that it was no longer necessary for him to hunt for a job. He decided to open a tobacco shop himself. It was bound to be profitable, he felt.

[passage-header]Read the passage and accordingly fill in the blank:
[/passage-header]Most of us are not very good listeners. We tend to believe that at meetings we will be judged by the amount we contribute with regard to the sheer volume of words rather than by how much we absorb other people's ideas. When we are listening, or think we are, we find it almost impossible to stop talking to ourselves. We assume that what the other person is saying is dreary and pointless. We don't open our mouth, of course, because that is just plain bad manners; but we do tend to use our listening to work out and rehearse what we hope to say. Again and again at meetings, you will hear people hotly denouncing views that have never been put forward or defending to the last breath those that have never been attacked. We live in a competitive world and most of us are concerned with putting our own ideas across or beating the other in an argument about their ideas.

[passage-header]Read the passage given below and answer the question that follows:[/passage-header]Gandhiji advises his followers to hate evil without hating the evil-doer. It sounds an impossible thing to do yet he has made it as true as it can be in his own life. Great as he is as a politician, as a leader of men, as a moral reformer, he is greater than all these as a man, because none of these aspects and activities limit his humanity. They are rather inspired and sustained by it. Though an incorrigible idealist and given to referring all conduct to certain pet formulae of his own, he is essentially a lover of men and not of mere ideas, which makes him so cautious and conservative in his revolutionary schemes. If he proposes an experiment for society, he must first subject himself to its ordeal. If he calls for a sacrifice, he must first pay its price himself. While many socialists wait for all to be deprived of their privileges before they would part with theirs, this man first renounces before he ventures to make any claims on renunciation of others.

[passage-header]Read the passage given below and answer the question that follows:[/passage-header]There are dull, mechanical fellows who turn out runs with as little emotion as a machine turns out pins. There is no colour, no enthusiasm, no character in their play. Cricket is not an adventure to them, it is a business. It was so with Shrewsbury. His technical perfection was astonishing, but the soul of the game was wanting in him. There was no sunshine in his play, no swift surprise of splendid unselfishness. And without these things, without gaiety, daring and the spirit of sacrifice, cricket is a dead thing.

[passage-header]Read the passage and accordingly fill in the blank:
[/passage-header]Most of us are not very good listeners. We tend to believe that at meetings we will be judged by the amount we contribute with regard to the sheer volume of words rather than by how much we absorb other people's ideas. When we are listening, or think we are, we find it almost impossible to stop talking to ourselves. We assume that what the other person is saying is dreary and pointless. We don't open our mouth, of course, because that is just plain bad manners; but we do tend to use our listening to work out and rehearse what we hope to say. Again and again at meetings, you will hear people hotly denouncing views that have never been put forward or defending to the last breath those that have never been attacked. We live in a competitive world and most of us are concerned with putting our own ideas across or beating the other in an argument about their ideas.