In the year 1860, the reputation of Doctor Wybrow as a London physician reached its highest point. It was
re ported on good authority that he was in receipt of one of the largest incomes derived from the practice
of medicine in modern times.
One afternoon, towards the close of the London season, the doctor had just taken his luncheon after a
specially hard morning's work in his consulting-room, and with a formidable list of visits to patients at their
own houses to fill up the rest of his day--when the servant announced that a lady wished to speak to him.
"Who is she?" the Doctor asked. "A stranger?" "Yes, sir."
"I see no strangers out of consulting-hours. Tell her what the hours are, and send her away." "I have told
her, sir."
"Well?"
"And she won't go."
"Won't go?" The doctor smiled as he repeated the words. He was a humorist in his way; and there was an
absurd side to the situation which rather amused him. "Has this obstinate lady given you her name?" he
inquired.
"No, sir. She refused to give any name--she said she wouldn't keep you five minutes, and the matter was
too important to wait till to-morrow. There she is in the consulting-room; and how to get her out again is
more than I know."
Doctor Wybrow considered for a moment. His knowledge of women (professionally speaking) rested on
the ripe experience of more than thirty years; he had met with them in all their varieties--especially the
variety which knows nothing of the value of time, and never hesitates at sheltering itself behind the
privileges of its sex. A glance at his watch informed him that he must soon begin his rounds among the
patients who were waiting for him at their own houses. He decided forthwith on taking the only wise
course that was open under the circumstances. In other words, he decided on taking to flight.
"Is the carriage at the door?" he asked. "Yes, sir."
"Very well. Open the house-door for me without making any noise, and leave the lady in undisturbed
possession of the consulting-room. When she gets tired of waiting, you know what to tell her. If she asks
when I am expected to return, say that I dine at my club, and spend the evening at the theatre. Now then,
softly, Thomas! If your shoes creak, I am a lost man."
What may be inferred in the opening paragraph?

• A. The physician with the best reputation earned the most money.
• B. The physician earning the most money would have the best reputation.
• C. Physicians didn't get much money in those days.
• D. Somehow a reputation makes you a good physician.
• E. The physician that made the most money was the best physician.

Pauline Johnson (18611913) was the daughter of Mohawk leader George Henry Martin; her mother was
English. Johnson was known in her time as a poet and performer. For years she toured throughout
Canada giving dramatic readings. Late in her life she turned to writing short stories. This excerpt is from
"A Red Girl's Reasoning," first published in 1893.
How interesting--do tell us some more of your old home, Mrs. McDonald; you so seldom speak of your life
at the post, and we fellows so often wish to hear of it all," said Logan eagerly.
"Why do you not ask me of it, then?" "Well--er, I'm sure I don't know; I'm fully interested in the Ind --in your
people--your mother's people, I mean, but it always seems so personal, I suppose; and --a --a--" "Perhaps
you are, like all other white people, afraid to mention my nationality to me."
The captain winced, and Mrs. Stuart laughed uneasily. Joe McDonald was not far off, and he was listening,
and chuckling, and saying to himself, "That's you, Christie, lay `em out; it won't hurt `em to know how they
appear once in a while." "Well, Captain Logan," she was saying, "what is it you would like to hear--of my
people, or my parents, or myself?" "All, all, my dear," cried Mrs. Stuart clamorously. "I'll speak for him--tell
us of yourself and your mother--your father is delightful, I am sure--but then he is only an ordinary
Englishman, not half so interesting as a foreigner, or--or perhaps I should say, a native."
Christie laughed. "Yes," she said, "my father often teases my mother now about how very native she was
when he married her; then, how could she have been otherwise? She did not know a word of English, and
there was not another English-speaking person besides my father and his two companions within sixty
miles." "Two companions, eh? One a Catholic priest and the other a wine merchant, I suppose, and with
your father in the Hudson Bay, they were good representatives of the pioneers in the New World,"
remarked Logan waggishly.
"Oh, no, they were all Hudson Bay men. There were no rumsellers and no missionaries in that part of the
country then." Mrs. Stuart looked puzzled. "No missionaries?" she repeated with an odd intonation.
Christie's insight was quick. There was a peculiar expression of interrogation in the eyes of her listeners,
and the girl's blood leapt angrily up into her temples as she said hurriedly, "I know what you mean; I know
what you are thinking. You are wondering how my parents were married --"
"Well--er, my dear, it seems peculiar if there was no priest, and no magistrate, why--a--" Mrs. Stuart
paused awkwardly.
"The marriage was performed by Indian rites," said Christie. "Oh, do tell about it; is the ceremony very
interesting and quaint--are your chieftains anything like Buddhist priests?" It was Logan who spoke.
"Why, no," said the girl in amazement at that gentleman's ignorance. "There is no ceremony at all, save a
feast. The two people just agree to live only with and for each other, and the man takes his wife to his
home, just as you do. There is no ritual to bind them; they need none; an Indian's word was his law in
those days, you know."
Mrs. Stuart stepped backwards. "Ah!" was all she said. Logan removed his eyeglass and stared blankly at
Christie. "And did McDonald marry you in this singular fashion?" he questioned. "Oh, no, we were married
by Father O'Leary. Why do you ask?"
"Because if he had, I'd have blown his brains out tomorrow." Mrs. Stuart's partner, who had heretofore
been silent, coughed and began to twirl his cuff stud nervously, but nobody took notice of him. Christie
had risen, slowly, ominously--risen, with the dignity and pride of an empress.
"Captain Logan," she said, "what do you dare to say to me? What do you dare to mean? Do you presume
to think it would not have been lawful for Joe to marry me according to my people's rites? Do you for one
instant dare to question that my parents were not as legally--"
"Don't, dear, don't," interrupted Mrs. Stuart hurriedly, "it is bad enough now, goodness knows; don't
make--" Then she broke off blindly.
What is Joe McDonald's initial reaction to his wife's attitude toward the captain and Mrs. Stuart?

• A. He supports her frankness.
• B. He is horrified at her rudeness.
• C. He wishes he were more like her.
• D. He is amused by her formality.
• E. He challenges her disrespectful behavior.

For the last hour I have been watching President Lincoln and General McClellan as they sat together in
earnest conversation on the deck of a steamer closer to us. I am thankful, I am happy, that the President
has come--has sprung across the dreadful intervening Washington, and come to see and hear and judge
for his own wise and noble self. While we were at dinner someone said, "Why, there's the President!" and
he proved to be just arriving on the Ariel, at the end of the wharf. I stationed myself at once to watch for
the coming of McClellan. The President stood on deck with a glass, with which, after a time, he inspected
our boat, waving his handkerchief to us. My eyes and soul were in the direction of the general
headquarters, over which the great balloon was slowly descending.
How does the author feel toward Lincoln?

• A. She finds him undistinguished in person.
• B. She regrets his arrival.
• C. She admires him and trusts his judgment.
• D. She has no opinion.
• E. She dislikes him and suspects his motives.

Friends of the theater have long decried the ______ of the New York drama critics, whose reviews can
determine the fate of a play in a single night.

• A. provinciality
• B. insensitivity
• C. inaccuracy
• D. power
• E. intelligence