Global Test Academy

SAT Pastpaper with Solutions

Total 41 questions
00:00:00 / 01:04:00

Chapter 113

2022 : A

READING1 · 41 questions

1
Tools:

Chapter 113 · 2022 : A · READING1

This passage is adapted from Mary Helen Stefaniak, TheCailiffs of Baghdad, Georgia: A Novel. ©2010 by Mary HelenStefaniak.Miss Grace Spivey arrived in Threestep, Georgia,in August 1938. She stepped off the train wearing apair of thick-soled boots suitable for hiking, a navyLine blue dress, and a little white tam that rode the waves of her red hair at a gravity-defying angle. August wasa hellish month to step off the train in Georgia,although it was nothing, she said, compared to the119 degrees that greeted her when she arrived onetime in Timbuktu, which, she assured us, was a real place in Africa. I believe her remark irritated some ofthe people gathered to welcome her on the burnedgrass alongside the tracks. When folks are sweatingthrough their shorts, they don’t like to hear that thisis nothing compared to someplace else. Irritated or not, the majority of those present were inclined to seethe arrival of the new schoolteacher in a positivelight. Hard times were still upon us in 1938, but, likemy momma said, “We weren’t no poorer than we’dever been,” and the citizens of Threestep were in the mood for a little excitement.Miss Spivey looked like just the right person togive it to them. She was, by almost anyone’sstandards, a woman of the world. She’d gone toboarding schools since she was six years old; she’d studied French in Paris and drama in London; andduring what she called a “fruitful intermission” in herformal education, she had traveled extensively in theNear East and Africa with a friend of hergrandmother’s, one Janet Miller, who was a medical doctor from Nashville, Tennessee. After her travelswith Dr. Miller, Miss Spivey continued her educationby attending Barnard College in New York City. Shetold us all that at school the first day. When my littlebrother Ralphord asked what did she study at Barnyard College, Miss Spivey explained thatBarnard, which she wrote on the blackboard, was thesister school of Columbia University, of which, sheexpected, we all had heard.It was there, she told us, in the midst of trying to find her true mission in life, that she wandered oneafternoon into a lecture by the famous John Dewey,who was talking about his famous book, Democracyand Education. Professor Dewey was in his seventiesby then, Miss Spivey said, but he still liked to chat with students after a lecture—especially femalestudents, she added—sometimes over coffee, and seein their eyes the fire his words could kindle. It wasafter this lecture and subsequent coffee that MissSpivey had marched to the Teacher’s College andsigned up, all aflame. Two years later, she told acheery blue-suited woman from the WPA1 that shewanted to bring democracy and education to thepoorest, darkest, most remote and forgotten cornerof America. They sent her to Threestep, Georgia.Miss Spivey paused there for questions, avoidingmy brother Ralphord’s eye.What we really wanted to know about—alltwenty-six of us across seven grade levels in the one room—was the pearly white button hanging on a string in front of the blackboard behind the teacher’sdesk up front. That button on a string was somethingnew. When Mavis Davis (the only bona fide seventhgrader, at age thirteen) asked what it was for, MissSpivey gave the string a tug, and to our astonishment,the whole world—or at least a wrinkled map ofit—unfolded before our eyes. Her predecessor, MissChandler, had never once made use of that map,which was older than our fathers, and until that moment, not a one of us knew it was there.Miss Spivey showed us on the map how she andDr. Janet Miller had sailed across the Atlantic Oceanand past the Rock of Gibraltar into theMediterranean Sea. Using the end of a ruler, she gently tapped such places as Morocco and Tunis andAlgiers to mark their route along the top of Africa.They spent twenty hours on the train to Baghdad, shesaid, swathed in veils against the sand that crept inevery crack and crevice. “And can you guess what we saw from the train?”Miss Spivey asked. We could not. “Camels!” she said.“We saw a whole caravan of camels.” She lookedaround the room, waiting for us to be amazed anddelighted at the thought. We all hung there for a minute, thinking hard,until Mavis Davis spoke up.“She means like the three kings rode toBethlehem,” Mavis said, and she folded her handssmugly on her seventh-grade desk in the back of the room.Miss Spivey made a mistake right then. Instead ofbeaming upon Mavis the kind of congratulatorysmile that old Miss Chandler would have bestowedon her for having enlightened the rest of us, Miss Spivey simply said, “That’s right.”1 The Works Progress Administration (WPA) was a governmentagency that hired people for public and cultural developmentprojects and services.

The narrator of the passage can best be described as


1 / 41