THE SHORT STORY Unit P; sith A plot is two dogs and one bone, ~ Robert Newton Peck College Reading and Writing I think a short story is usually about one thing, and a novel about many... Name A short story fs like a a short visit Period to other people, _ a novel Itke a fong fourney with others. -M.E. Kerr “The king died and then the queen” is a story. “The king died and then the queen died of grief’ is a plot. —E. M. Fotster A short story is, in some ways, like a photograph -- a captured moment of time that is Crystalline, though sometimes mysterious, arresting, though perhaps-delicate, But ‘While a photo may or may not suggest consequences, a short story always does. In the story's moment of time something important, something irrevocable has occurred. The change may be subtle or obvious, but it is definite and definitive. _— variyn singer 4 short story collection ta the literary eguivatent of a Whitman's Sampler. “The reader pokes around te see what's interesting — reads some starces the way you'd snap ups the raffle on Caramel, Hips past others the way you'd put back the Bad Mint Coccanut Swirl. A short story ix bitersized. Like good chocolate, it'stntense. %'s long enough to make yau care about the characters ~ but it necolues tn a way that's satiofying, rather than seeming unfinished ex overdene. ~ Sharyn NovemberTable of Contents The Long Sheet William Sansom 16 The Long Sheet Questions 7 Riding the Whip Robin Hemley 89 Riding the Whip Questions 10 The Veldt Ray Bradbury 11-19 The Veldt Questions 20 Harrison Bergeron Kurt Vonnegut 21-25 Harrison Bergeron Questions 26 A&P John Updike 27-32 A&P Questions 33 Jury of Her Peers Susan Glaspell 34-46 Jury of Her Peers Questions 47-49 The Yellow Wallpaper _—_Charlotte Perkins Gilman 50-59 The Yellow Wallpaper Questions 60 The Metamorphosis Franz Kafka 61-98 The Metamorphosis Questions 99 The Bet Anton Chekov 100-104 The Bet Questions 105i "WILLIAM SANSOM Bom in England, William Sansom (1912-1976) was writing from the age of seven, He did not attend college, but instead traveled abroad and, at some time in his life, ved in most of the countries of Europe, including France, Germany, Spain, and Hungary. He produced his fist serious work while serving in the ranks of the London Fire Service during World War II. In 1046 and 1947 the Society of Authors in London awarded him two literary scholarships. He wrote not only short stories, but novel, essays, and travel articles. Sansom has been called a magician bby some critics, because one is never quite sure if he is making the unreal world real or tinging the real world with unreality. He gives the reader a refracted view of life with distortions and sudden bursts of light. Some of his short stories are close to being “contrived shockers.” What saves them fom this fate is the + fact that they contain a larger meaning which removes from them the charge of being ‘mere tricks, He has a remarkable ability to create mood, showing evidence of a keen eye, sharp ears, and a good nose... he can make you smell the smells of a county lane oa city alley. Sald one reviewer of Sansom's characters, “They embark on a voyage of the spirit, but generally the homie port is misery.” The Long Sheet hase ox evr vrs dy «wet et wrung it bone-white dry—with only the grit ‘of your fingers and the muscles of your Tf you have done this, you will understand bet- ter the situation of the captives at Device Z when the warders set them the task of the long sheet. ‘You will remember how, having stretched the cloth between your hands, you begin by ‘twisting one end—holding the other firmly s0 that the water is corkscrewed from its hiding place. At frst the water spurts out easily, but later you will find yourself screwing with both hands in different directions, whitening your Knuckles, straining every fiber of your dia- phragm—and all to extract the smallest drop of moisture! The muscle of your arm swells like an egg—yet the wet drop remains a pinhead! As you work, the cloth will gradually change from a gray color to the whiteness of dried by Done, yet even then the cloth will be wet! Stil you will knot your muscles; still you will wrench away at the fartive damp. Then—at 1astl—you will believe the cloth to be dry... Dut in the next second the tip of a finger will quiver tragically as it touches some cold, hid- den veil of damp clinging deep down in the interlaced threads. Such, then, was the task of the captives. They were placed in a long steel bar of a room with no windows and no doors. The room was some six fect wide and six feet high, but tran one hundred feet in length. It resembled thus a rectangular tunnel with no entrance and no exit, yet the sensation inside was not really that of a tunnel. For instance, a quantity of light fowed through thick glass panels set at intervals along the ceiling; these were-the skylights, and through these the captives had ‘been dropped into the box. Again, the impres- sion of living in a tunnel was offset by a system cf cubicle walls that separated the captives into groups. These cubicle walls were madefrom the same riveted steel as the main walls: ‘was no communication from cubicle to ‘cubicle except through & half Toot 6t between the top of the wall and the ceiling. ‘Thus each group of captives occupied, as it were, a small room. There were twenty-two ‘captives. They were grouped in unequal num- Der within four cubicles. “Trough the entire length of this system, raised three feet from the ground, passing through the very center of each room, ran a Tong wound sheet. Tt was made from coarse white linen bundled into a loose cylinder of cloth some six inches in diameter. ‘When the captives were first thrown into their cubicles, the long sheet was heavy with ‘water, The warders had soaked the material so thoroughly that in the folds the water had gathered into lakes. The warders then issued their instructions. The captives were to wring the sheet dry, It would not do to wring the sheet to what we would normally call a “dry”. state~as of clothes ready for airing. On the ‘contrary—this sheet must be purged of every moisture, Tt must be wrung as dry as a bone. ‘This, the warders concluded, might take a long time, It might even take months of hard work. In fact, they had taken special care to treat the linen 50 that it would be durable over 2 lengthy period. But when the task was finally com- | then the men and women would be granted their freedom, They would be re- leased. “As the grave faces of the warders disappeared and the glass skylights slid shut, the captives smiled for the first time. For months they hed lived with the fear of death, they had shrank in ceaseless apprehension of the terrible de- vices that awaited them. And now that future hhad devolved into the wringing of a simple sheet! A long sheet, it was true, but child’s play in comparison with what they had expected. ‘Thus they sank to the steel floor in relief. Few Isid a hand on the sheet that day. ‘But after three months the captives began to realize the true extent of their task. By this time each group in each cubicle had wrung the worst water from their section of the sheet. Yet with all their sweating and straining they ‘could not rid the cloth of its last dampness. ‘twas apparent that the warders had no in- tention of presenting them with a simple task. For through vents near the: roof, hot steam was ‘injected mechanically into the cubicles as long as daylight lasted. This steam naturally mois- tened the sheet afresh. Thhe'steam was so regu- ated that it hindered rather than prevented the fulfillment of the wringing. Thus there was always less steam entering than moisture wrung from the sheet ‘at a normal rate of work ng, The steam injection merely meant that for every ten drops of water wrung seven new drops would settle upon the sheet, so that even- tually the captives would still be able to wring the sheet dry. This device of the warders was ~ introduced solely to complicate the task. It seemed that the warders were acting in two ‘ways; daily they encouraged the efforts of the aptives with promises of release, but daily they turned on the steam ‘cocks.In the cubicles the air was thick with steam. Twas the air of a laundry, where steam catches in the throat, where it is sometimes difficult to breathe, where the smell of hot, wet cloth sickens the heart, The steel walls sweated. Con- densed water trickled in winding trails down the gray plate. Beads of moisture clustered at the rivet heads, The long sheet spattered a few Grops into the central gutter in the floor as the captives twisted against time. Both men and ‘women worked half-naked, Since the sheet was ppositfoned three feet from the ground, they were forced to stoop. If they sat at their wark, then their arms grew numb in the raised att: tude at which they had to be maintained. There ‘was nothing for it but to stoop. In the hot air they sweated, yet they dared not lean over the sheet for fear their sweat should fall on the hungry cloth. Their muscles knotted, their backs cried out as they twisted, The end was far, but thre was an end. That meant that there was hope. This knowledge lent fre to the straggling ambition that lived in their human hearts. They worked. Yet some were not always equal to the task. Room Threo— Those Who Sought Outside There were four rooms. Take Room Three. This housed five people—two married couples and a young Serbian grocer. All five of them wanted freedom. They worked eamestly at their task. That the task was in essence unpro- ductive did not worry them. At least, it would produce their freedom. It was thus artificially Productive, These five people set about the problem in a normal businesslike way. Previ- ously, they had been used to habitual hours, a life of steady formula. This they now applied to the new business of wringing. Set hours were allotted to each person. It was as if they commuted regularly from their suburbia (the steel sleeping corner) to the office (the long sheet). They worked in relays, in four-hour stretches throughout the day and night. However, as I have said, they were not equal to the task. The framework of habit overcame them, Like so many who live within a steady, comfortable routine, they allowed the routine around the work to predominate in importance above the work itself. They arrived at the long sheet punctnally, and with consciences thus satisfied, they put insufficient effort into the actual work, Furthermore, when they had ful filled the routine assiduously for a period, one or the other would congratulate his conscience and really believe that he deserved a “little relaxation,” and he would take the afternoon off. Such ‘was the force of his emphasis on obedience to the letter that he was convinced the law would not suffer. Thus the real work cof wringing suffered. New moisture crept in where his hands were weak. These people had set about the quest for freedom in.the right ‘way, but they were unhappily convinced of their righteousness. One of the women became pregnant. Her ‘was born in the steam box, but, under the influence of Room Three's routine, that child could never be free: The influence, the con- striction, and the hopeless task of the parents would keep the child in the steam box for life, The child would never have the chance to leam to wring with effect. Room Two— Those Who Sought In and Out and Around In another of the rooms—Room Two—there were five men. Their names and their profes- sions do not matter. It is how they attacked the long sheet that matters. They attacked it in five different ways. ‘Here were five individualists, ive who were forced by the set of their minds to approach their problems in various ways of their own. Day after day they labored in the hot, damp steel cubicle, each twisting the long cyltider of cloth with different reasonings. One man had been frightened by a sheet when he was young. On some indefinite day of his childhood, a new nurse had appeared. Her black eyes hid burned with a powerful scorn; her small lascivious teeth and huge drooping‘On her first day the new nurse had made a little white monster from a white sheet. It had two little heads and a shapeless flowing body. ‘The little heads were sharp, and always bob- bing. The nurse had come silently into the night nursery when it was dark. Lighting a candle on. ‘the floor behind the end of the bed, she had quietly raised her little white monster so that the boy could just see it above his toes. Then she had begun a strident sing-song crowing, like the harsh crowing of Punch.t The boy had awaked to this sound, and had seen the sharp bobbing heads of the little monster. ‘Now, some thirty years later, the man has forgotten the scene, but somehow his hands cannot touch the long sheet without a great sensation of uneasiness. His hands do not touch the white cloth well. Consequently, he is for- ever making excuses to avoid working on the sheet. He feigns illness. . . . He has mutilated his hands. .. . Oh, there is no end to the devices ‘the fellow had invented from his sadness! But whatever he does cannot eradicate the awful ‘uneasiness that clouds the far reaches of his ‘mind, At the moment of writing, this man is still in the steel cubicle. He will never be free. Another of the men in Room Two was a simple quiet fellow. The others took no inter- est in him, he was too simple a fellow, Yet a ‘most amazing thing—his section of the sheet ‘was white and quite dry. There was a good reason for this. Without any conscious know!- ‘edge, without planning and scheming, he had naturally gone at his wringing the good way. He was accustomed to wring sitting astride the cloth. In this position, his legs squeezed at the cloth too./Thus, without questioning, he sur- rendered his whole body to the task. His heart, ‘too, for he was such a simple fellow. This man’s sheet was dry, But the others never even noticed. He was such a simple fellow. ‘There was one man in Room Two whose ‘métier in ife had always been the short cut. As previously in business, in love, in all relation- ships, he attempted to apply the short cut sys- tem to the most important task of all—the The Long Sheet -He.tried cua great. ‘many tricks and petty deceptions. He blocked up the pipe through which the guards pumped the steam. The next morning, like a mushroom, another pipe had grown at the side of the frst. He tried feigning madness, The warders threw buckets of cold water down through the sky- light. Some of this water splashed on to the sheet, destroying a whole month’s work. The other men nearly killed him for this. Once he bribed one of the warders to send him a pot of white enamel. With this he painted the sheet white, The enamel dried hard. The sheet seemed dry! But the nest day the warders came to chip the enamel off. They punished ‘him with a traveling hose jet. This jet traveled inconsequently about the room. To save the water hitting the sheet, the man had to inter- cept the jet with his body. He was kept running and jumping and squatting for a whole day— until toward evening he dropped exhausted ‘and rolled into the central gutter. The ward- ers, of course, can never be bribed. ‘Then there was another man who can best be described as a fumbler. He worked hard and earnestly. He was up at the wringing well before the others, he seldom lay down till long after the skylights were dark and the air cleared of steam. But he fumbled. His mind co-or- inated imperfectly with his body. Although he felt that he concentrated his whole effort, psychic and physical, on the job of wringing— his mind would wander to other things. He never knew that this happened, but his hands did. They stopped wringing, they wrung the wrong way—and the fatal drops of moisture accumulated. He could never understand this. He thought his mind was always on the job. But instead his mind settled too'often on mat- ters only near to the job, not the job in essence. ~ For a small instance—his mind might wander to the muscle on his left forearm. He might see that it bulges at a downward screw of the wet Tinen. He watches this bulge as he works. The 1 Panch, a common character in English Punch-and- Judy or puppet shows.bulge then absorbs his interest to such an extent that he makes greater play with this left arm to stimulate further the bulge of muscle,’ In compensation the right arm slackens ité effort. ‘The wringing ‘Yet allthis time he himself in honesty believes that he is concentrating upon his job. ‘The ‘muscle i, in fact, part of the job. Yet it s only a facet, not the full perspective. He fumbles because he does not see clearly: and to wring dry the long sheet a man must give his whole ‘thought in calm and complete clarity. ‘The Sith man in Room Two was a good worker: that is, he had found the way to wring effectively, and at times his portion of the sheet was almost dry. But he was perverted. This ‘man liked to wring the sheet almost dry—then stand by and watch the steam settle into the folds once more! He liked to watch the fruits of his labor rot. In this way he freed himself from the task. He freed himself by attaining ‘is object, and then treating it with the soom ho imagined it deserved. He felt himself master of the work—but in reality he never became the master of his true freedom. There was no Purity in this man. His freedom was false, Room Four— Those Who Never Sought at All Room Number Four housed more captives than the others. Seven people weré crowded {nto this one cell of steam and steel, There were three women, one girl of twelve, and three men, These people seldom did much work. They were a source of great disappointment to the warders. To these people the effort was not worth eventual freedom. The immensity of the task had Jong ago disheartened them. Their minds were not big enough to envisage the bet- ter future, They had enough. They had their breeding and their food. The state of life held no interest for them. Vaguely, they would have preferred better conditions. But at the cost of toil and thought—no. These people were ‘squalid and small. Their desire for freedom had been killed by a dull acceptance of their im- otence. This also becarne true ofthe little girl of bwelve, She had no alternative but to follow the others. ‘The warders never played their favorite trick on Room Four, for the simple reason that the tick would haye had tio effect. The trick was to release into the cells small squadrons of saturated birds, The birds flew into the cells and scattered water from their wings every. where. The birds flew in all directions and the captives ran wildly here and there in hysterical efforts to trap them before they splashed water onto the sacred sheet. The warders considered that the element of charice implicit in these birds was a healthy innovation. Otherwise, life for the captives would have been too ordered, There must be risk, said the warders. And so from time to time, with no waming, they in- jected these litle wet birds and the captives hastened to protect the purity of their work against the interference of fate. If they could not catch the birds in time, they learnt in this ‘manner how to accept misfortune: and in pa- tience they redoubled their efforts to retrieve the former. level of their work, Butinto Room Four the birds never lew. The trick would never have affected the inhabitants, ‘who lived at the low ebb of misfortune already, Pethaps thé real tragedy of these dispirited people was not their own misfortune, to which. they had grown accustomed, but that their slackness had its effect on those whose ambi- tions were pure and strong. The slackness was contagious. In this way. The sheet was so wet in Room Four that the water seeped through into Room One. And in Room One lived the ‘most successful of all the captives. Room One— ‘Those Who Sought Inside There were five of them in cubicle One, Four men and one woman. They were successful no more for their method of wringing than for their attitude toward wringing. At frst, when they had been dropped through the skylight, when they saw the long sheet, when they slowly 3accustomed themselves to the idea of what lay before them, they were profoundly shocked. them; their existence was a material through able to such senseless and unproductive labor. tive understanding, the goal of perfect But they were good people. Soon they saw Deyond the apparent drudgery. Soon they had ‘passed through and rejected the various phases experienced and retained by the other rooms. ‘They had known the defeat of Room Four, the individual terrors and escapes of Room Two, the veneer of virtue beneath which the inhabi- tants of Room Three purred with such alarming satisfaction. No, it was not so very long before these good people saw beyond the apparent and thenceforth set themselves to work with body and soul, gently but with strength, huim- bly yot fearlessly, towards the only end of value —freedom. First, these people said “Unproduective? The long sheet of senseless drudgery? Yes—but why not? In whatever other sphere of labor could we ever have produced ultimately anything? Itis not the production that counts, but the life lived in the spirit during production. Produc- tion, the tightening of the muscles, the weaving of the hands, the pouring forth of shaped ma- terials—this is only an employment for the nervous body, the dying legacy of the hunter's will to movement, Let the hands weave, but at the same time Jet the spirit search. Give the long sheet its rightful place—and concentrate on a better understanding of the freedom that is our real object.” At the same time, they saw to it that the sheet was wrung efficiently, They arranged a successful rota system. They tried various methods and positions with their hands, Exam- ining every detail, they selected in every way the best approach. They did not overtax them- selves. They did not hurry themselves. They worked with a rhythmic resilience, conserving this energy for the exertion of that. They al- owed no extremes. They applied themselves ‘with sincerity and a good will. ‘Above all they had faith. Their attitude was broad—but Jed in one direction, Their en- deavor was freedom. They feared neither work nor weakness. These things did not exist for freedom. Gradually these people achieved their end. In spite of the steam, in spite of the saturated birds, in spite of the vaporous contagion seep- ing through from the room of the defeated, in spite of the long hours and the heat and the squared horizon of rusting steel—their spirit prevailed and they achieved the purity they sought. One day, seven years later, the wet gzay sheet dawned a bright white—dry as desert ivory, dry as marble dust. ‘They called up through the skylight to the warders. The grave faces appeared. Coldly the warders regarded the white sheet. There were nods of approbation. “Freedom?” said the captives. ‘The guards brought out their great hoses and doused the white sheet sodden gray with a ‘huge pressure of water. “You already have it,” they answered. “Free- dom lies in an attitude of the spirit. There is no kine” And the sighs silently closed.The Long Sheet Questions and Analysis Name, Period, Well...do you find yourself confused? A little disturbed? You aren't alone. Few people who read this story ever forget it. The situation is almost horrifying and worse, most readers find themselves identifying their ‘own work habits in one or more of the prisoners trapped in those cubicles. The end result of the prisoners? efforts is unexpected, almost diabolical. The reader’s thought process is shaken. if the people in the room had gained thelr freedom, the story would have been a nice, little moral tale. Instead, however, the ending leads the reader to question and speculate on the author’s meaning. ‘As you begin your personal analysis of the story, answer these questions: 1 The prisoners are placed in four rooms...each set represents a different mind-set and attitude. Just what is ‘Sansom criticizing in each group? 2. What isthe intent of the titles for the rooms? Room One: Those Who Sought Inside; Room Two: Those Who Sought in and Out and Around; Round Three: Those Who Sought Outside; Room Four: Those Who Never Sought at all 3. What was Sansom’s purpose in writing the story? Decide what you think he was criticizing or ridiculing. Consider the following interpretations. Choose one that you strongly agree with or strongly disagree with. How does it relate to your interpretation? 1. The warders represent the supreme authority....God; the cubicle is the world; the people represent ‘the different segments of society. 2, The warders represent the business leaders; the people are the workers in the cubicles; the cubicles are the classes of society, 3. The people in each cubicle are there through their own attitudes and abilities; the cubicle is devised in their own minds; the task is representative of the useless jobs we are force to perform in life; the warders are our natures, which complicate the task ***answer questions completely. Continue on the back or use a separate plece of paper, if necessary. Question 3 will need a separate sheet of paper for your response, :rROBLN HEMLEY Riding the Whip bed my hand. On any other ride I would have thought she was only Frightened and wanted secucicy. But and sinall. There was nothing to be afraid of at When we got down and the man let us 0 Md of Rita‘shand, and about, my mother had told me over the phone ¢ ning. Yes, Julic had done a stu ‘was having too much fun and I knew I shouldn'c be. Alteady, I RODIN HEMLEY hhad won a stuffed animal from one of 1e booths and given Popguns blew many people screaming ing through me, and I could hardly hear ‘were asking me. “Come on, Jay,” shouted ing cugged. “Let's ride ‘the Whip.” The any sense to me. A. T dide’t answer, though I was having fun. T begher and aude han s moment blo 1 could even best» ‘cute, did you The carnival was just a painting, a bunch of petals in» , which made me think of Julie, She was an artist and mostly, but she didn’ was any good. large painting, h some paper money I cut from x notebook. A she came into my room and stashed the-ssodpnd uo fem Pry su0sW08 4 aap-ueip daa AgINun NIWow + -29]9 ayy paSueyp ang ‘quowdue 2jdoad 40 200 20) uoysaidxo hus 4000 1 pur qumpypund Ajper03 sua, pray fou pavesd Zusypowos opr “sopumos waroyip wos) 242 Jo ano dais pynoys Buyop ‘uvou 1, ey PEASE, Suyary nok vary aanb os 23,004, ‘ous oF pres ean] pUE 2625 300 dig, og BurpyRiding the Whip by Robin Hemley Discussion Questions: 1. What do we learn in the opening line? 2. What “stupid thing” could Julie have done to get attention? 3. What is Jay's relationship to Julie? 4. What information do we learn about Julie throughout the story? 5. Why do you think Jay’s parents sent him to the carnival that night? 6. What happens to Jay as he is riding the whip? 7. How does Jay know what seat to go back to? 8. Why do you think he wants to go through that experience again? IOThe Veldt “Cronos, I wish you'd look at the nursery.” “What's wrong with it?” “ don't know.” “Well, thes.” _“Tjust want you to look at it, is all, or call a psychologist in 10 look at it.” ~ “Wit would a psychologist want with a nursery?” You know vety well what‘he'd want.” His wife pqused in the middle of the kitchen and watched the stove busy humming to itself, making supper for four." “It's just that the nttsery is different now thian it was.” “ATl right, let's have a Took” ‘They walked down’ the hall of their sotindproofed, Happylife ‘Home, which had"cost them thirty thousand dollars installed, ‘this house which clothed and fed and rocked them to sleep and played. dnd sang and was good to them. Their approach ‘sensi- they came within ten feet of it. Similarly, behind them, in the halls lights went on and off as they left them behind, with a soit atoniaticity, “Well,” stid George Hadley, They stood on the thatched floor of the nursery. Tt was forty feet across by forty feet long and thirty feet high; it had cost - hulf again as much as the rest of the house. “But nothing's too good for our children,” George had said. Copmigh, 2950, by The Curtis Publishing Co. 7| rue ILLUSTRATED MAX -rhaluiey wi silent. T was ety a8 a jungle glade at dt i. The walls were: blatk and two dimiensional. Now, as THE VELDT ‘The Tions were coming. And nguin George Hadley was filled with admiration for the mechanical, genius who had conceiveid price. Every home should have ont. Oh, oceaiionaly they fright: ened yor with their clinical atouricy, they startled you, gave you 7 2 a dick ja toa foreign ‘and, a quitk change of scenery. Well, here itswast ~ ‘And here were the lions now, fifteen fect aivay, 30 real, 90 feverishly and startlingly real that you could feel the prickling “Geanzet” ““pyliat OW, my desc poor sweet Lydia” “They alrhost.got ust” ie “Walls; Lydia, sber; crystal ‘walls, that’s all, they. arc. Of, they look réa, T mest admit—Afica in your parlor—but it’s ee te i aac” sneer wg “Tm afiaid” She camie fochitiyahdepat her body against bith ‘ind criéd steadily. “Did fou see? Did you féel2 Tes too real.” scliggee tna Hi BEE ouTHE ILLUSTRATED MAN, “You've got to tell Wendy and Peter not to read any more on “Qf course—of course.” He patted her. “Promise?” Sure.” “And lock the nursery for a few. days until I get my nerves settled.” “You know how difficult Peter is about that. When I pun- ished him a month ago. by locking the nursery for even a few - hours—the tantrum he threw! And Wendy too. They live for the nursery.” - “It’s got to be locked, that's all there isto it.” . > “All right.” Reluctantly he locked the huge door. “You've been working too haxd. You need a rest.” __"T-don’t know—I don't know,” she said, blowing her nose, sitting down in a chair that immediately began to rock and comfort her. “Maybe I don’t have enough to do. Maybe I have ‘time to think too much. Why don’t we shut the whole house off fra few days and tke vacation?” fou mean you want to ff for me?” iva ie ace damn my socks?” "A frantic, wa i “And sweep the’ ower Tare ja ght that's _why is wouldn't have to do anything?” Sl aa ied a “That's just it. I feel like I don't belong here, The house is wife and mother now and nursemaid. Can I compete with an African veldt? Can I give a bath and scrub the children af efficiently or quickly as the automatic scrub bath can? I cannot, And it isn’t just me. Ifs you. You've been awfully nervous have been smoking too much.” “You look as if-you didn’t know what to do with yourself ia THE VELDT ‘this house, either. You smoke a little more every morning and drink a little more every afternoon and need a little more seda- tive every night. You're beginning to feel unnecessary too.” ““Am I?” He paused and tried to feel into himself to see what was really there, “Oh, Georgel” She looked beyond him, at the nursery door. “Those lions can’t get out of there, can they?” He looked at the door and saw it tremble as if something had At ‘dinner they ate alone, for Wendy and Peter were at a special plastic carnival across tow and had televised home to say they'd be late, to go ahead eating. So George Hadley, bemused, sat watching the diningzoom table produce warm dishes of food from its mechanical interior. “We forgot the ketchup,’ id. “Sony,” said a small voice within the table, and ketchup speared. ‘As for the nursery, thought George Hadley, it won't hurt for the children to be locked out of it awhile. Too much of any- thing isn’t good for anyone. And it was clearly indicated that the children had been spending a little too much time on ‘Afica, That sun, He could feel it on his neck, still, ike a hot paw, And the lions. And the smell of blood, Remarkable how the nursery caught the telepathic emanations of the children’s minds and created life to fill their every desire, The children thought lions, and there were lions. The children thought zebras, and there were zebras. Stm—sun. Giraffes—giraffes. Death and death. ‘That last, He chewed tastelessly on the meat that the table had cut for him, Death thoughts. They were awfully young, ‘Wendy and Peter, for death thoughts. Or, no, you were never too young, really. Long before you knéw what death was you ‘were wishing it on someone else. When you were two years old ‘you were shooting people with cap pistols, 7a OF . que ViLDT THE ILLUSTRATED MAN i 4 “Ce rootn! I demand Aladdint” he said. Butjthis—the long, hot Aftican veldt—the awful death in the Nothing happened. The Hons mombled in ther baked pelts, fom, fod pete ein eae aeeer rnd eee “Where are you goin 5 He went back to dinner, “The fool room’s out of order,” _- He ldidn't answer Lydia. Preoceupied, he let the lights glow sail. Te won't ” Softly on ahead of him, extinguish behind him as he padded to SO” ae the msery door He Hstned gent it Faraway aon roxted: “Or what” ‘Hie binlocked the door and opened it. Just before he stepped. Or it can’t vesponid,” said Lydia, “because the children have josie heard fasiway scream. And the another roar fom Caer Sos and Kling so any ays Sat the lids, which subsided quickly.” : he Dom's im a rat” He ‘ito Africa, How many times in the last year had cea ‘he optned this door and found Wonderland, Alice, the Mock a" ‘Turtld, or Aladdin and bis Magical Lamp, or Jack Pumpkin- ae head ff Oz, or Dr. Déolittle, of the cow jumping over a very ae : ; a sealaypearing moon-all the delighthil contaptions of a make- pee er ree eliev? world. How often had he.seen Pegisus flying in the sky in ‘doest now iictine of hk » or séen foimtains of xed fréworks, or heard angel voices 's wise 6ne for ten. That 1.0. of his— singing. Bit now, this yellow hot Afres, this bake oven with “Nevertheless — : : murdér in the heat. Perhaps Lydia, was right. Pechaps they ‘Hello, Mom, Hello, Dad’ _ alittle ication from the fantasy which was growing a bit ‘The Hadleys turned. Wendy and Peter were coming in the ‘00 refl for ten-yearold children. Ttwas allright to exercise one’s front door, cheeks like peppeimint candy, eye like bright blue rind juith gymnastic fantasies, but when the lively child mind agate maibles, a sill of ozone on their jumpers from their trip on one pattem .... ? It seemed that, at a distance, in the helicopter. for thd past month, he had heard lions roaring, and smelled their “You're just in time for supper,” said both parents. odor seeping as far away as lis. study door. But, being “We're full of strawberry ice cream and hot dogs,” said the ‘iisy, he had paid it no attention. children, holding hands, “But we'll sit and watch.” Gedrge Hadley stood. on. thie.African, grassland alone, The “Yes, come tell us about the nursery,” said George Hadley. ions, Jooked up from their feeding, watching him. ‘The only ‘The brother and sister blinked at him and then at each other. fiw th the iMusion was, the open door through which he could “Nursery?” se hi wie, far own he ds al Mes fed ptr, ting VAT oat Aftica and everthing.” anid the father with false em shetmetidly joviality. A eg eas tthe Hoos, WUT doa’t understand,” suid Peter. nae “Your mother and I were just traveling through Africa with He|imew the principle of the room exuctly. You rent out a ice ne ead Gees your ng, Whee yo Shout oud aye. iaiey “Las haye Aladdin and his lamp,” he.snapped, : adley- mp Ops 3 d elidund remained; the ote remained 7 “There's no Africa in the nursery,” said Peter simply. uyTHE ILLUSTRATED MAN ‘Ob, come now, Peter. We know better.” don't remember any Aftica,” said Peter to Wendy. “Do ‘She obeyed. . “Wendy, come back here!” said George Hadley, but she was ite; he tealized he had forgotten to lock theinumsery door after ‘his last inspection, i “Wendy'll look and come tell us,” said Peter. “She doesn’t have to tell me, I've seen it.” “I'm sure you're mistaken, Father.” ima Was here tears to yout anged scene. “Go to bed,” “You heard me,” he said. ‘They went of to the air close, where a wind sucked them like brown leaves up the flue: to their slumber rooms, 7 George Hadley walked through the singing glade and pickea PE something that lay in the .comer neat where the liots hal bea, He. ly back to his wife, gone. The, house lights followed her ikea lock of frees Too. tue vetr smell of a'lion. There were drops of saliva:on it, it had been chewed, and there were blood’ smears on both sides: He closed the nursery door and loéked it ight, Jn the middie of the night he was still awake and he-knew ‘his wife was awake. “Do you think Wendy changed it?” she said at last, in the dark room. “OF couse” E “Made it from a veldt into a forest and put Rima there 4nstead of lions?” “Yes.” “Wye” . (1 don't know. But it's staying locked until 1 find out?” “How did your wallet get there?” . ‘Tidor't know anything,” he said, “except that Pin begining to be sony we bought that room for the children. If childres ‘ure neurotic at all, a room like that——” : “Is supposed to help ‘them work Of their neuroses in a ‘healthful way.” 3 “Tm startingto wonder.” He stared at ‘the ceiling. “They'te not old enough to do that alone, T explained.” “Nevertheless, [ve noticed they've been decidedly cool toward ‘David MéClein come tominow moming Africa.” i) Mica’ now, it’s’ Green Mansions céuntiy aridO| . CO NA _ que ruLUsTRATED MAN The Seng tl: be Afsica again befote then.” cal eee — , "ic shbnient, later they heard ‘the Seroasts. - “No, it would be bord. 1 didn't like it when you took ont fexeams,"Two pedple screaming from downstairs. ‘And the picture painter last month.” * . _ ‘then afroar of Kons. a ce gh Pete tet nthe rooms” sid self, son.” - , --, He'l a ed. withihis beating bent. “No,” be sid AO a uo do anping but look and Tite and sl He boken into the’ nursery” es : what else is there to.do?” . ‘WTHlose screains—they sound’ familiar.” 4 7 “AML right, 66 play in Africa”. - 7 is 5 cryvilljoc shutoff dhe house sometime son?” “ye'ze considering it” ree cost er cnr ay fs ater” “Tgon't ave any threats from my sont”, “Very well.” And Peter strolled off to the nussery- hyn 1 on tine?” said David McClean. ‘Byeakdast?” asked George Hadley. x “7 shout hope 80." ~ creed then have a idok at ox norefy. You tw it 8 Yo ago when you dropped by: ‘id you notice anything pecsliar sbout it then?” don’t change the mental combination. are. Get!” ‘comb may hair and give myself eG sn get two men od tds the ‘yp would be fun for a change, loy ug ILLUSTRATED MAN tions Glustoréd at a distance, eating with great relish whatever it was they had caught. iat Sewas.” said George Hadley. “Sometimes ‘Do you think i€ 1 brought highpowered ayly. “Hardly.” He tumed to study “hock be too much for the childten, shutting the room up abruptly, for good?” * cr fon'tewant them going any Aéeper into this that’s ail” ‘The lions were finished with their zed feast. fo othe wile damm room tom downand your chilies ey rough to me every day during the next your for ‘reatment.” neue nen standing Z “Now I'm feeling persecuted,” said. ‘McClean. “Let’s, get out ‘fs it that bad?” of here. I never have cared for these damned rooms. Make me lions Jook real, don’t they?” said ‘George Hadley. “I suppose there's any Way——" oe" case, however, the room cee thought, instead of 2 elease away fram them.” “Didnt you sense’ this before?” =F» “7 tensed only that you liad spoiled your children more ti meat And now yotite letting them doten in some Way. What wouldn't fet thiem go to New York.” ines from’ the house and ‘threatened’ ‘with closing up thenursery unless they did ‘close it for a'few days to show I meant it I know.” caer in the machinery «tampering or something?” “No! ‘They went to.the door. | don’t imagine the room “Nothing ever likes to die—even 2 room.” “T wonder if it hates me for wanting to switch it of “Paranoia is thick around here to. said David McClean. “You can follow it like a spoor. Hello.” He bent and picked ‘up a bloody scarf. “This your?” : No.” George Hadley's face was rigid. ‘It belongs to Lydia.” ‘vil like being turned off,” said “Dibes'that mean anything?” “*Byerthing, Where before they hada Sata Cisns ow they have’a Scrooge, Children. prefer Santas. ‘You've let this roomwent to the fuse-box together and threw the switch ‘two children weie in hystetics. They screamed and sinedd and threw things. They yelled and sobbed and swore “can’t do that to the nuiseiy, you can't” Hadley, "tom on the nursery just for ‘a few}moments. You can’t be so abrupt.” te our thechanical, electronic navels for too ‘he marched about the housé turning off the voice clocks, ‘the heaters, thé shoe shiners, the shoe lacers, the body “and swabbert aiid mabsdgérs, and every other machine house was full of dead bodies; it seemed. It felt like ical cemetery. So silent. Nouie of the humming hidden ‘of machines waitnig to fonction at-the tap of a button. “Dpn’t let them ‘do itt” wailed Peter at the-ceiling, ‘as if he oO O) THE VELDT “Ob, George,” said the wife, “it can't hurt.” “All right—all right, if they'I'only jst shut up. One ininute, ‘mind you, and then off forever.” “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” sang, the children, smiling with wet faces. . “And then we're going on a vacation, David McClean is ‘be vacuumed upstairs through the himself, A minute later Lydia 4 “Tl be glad when we get aviayy “Did you leave them in the nursery?” “{ wanted to dress too. Oh, that horrid Africa. What can they see in it?” “Well, in five ininutes we'll be on our way to Iowa,Lord, how did we ever get in this house? What proiipted us to buy 2 nightmaie?” “*Pride,'moncy, foolishness.” . “] think we'd bettter get downstairs before those kids get engrossed with those damned beasts agzin.” Just then they heard the children calling, “Daddy, Mommy, come quick—quickt” ‘They went dowistais in the air flue.and ran down the hall. __ The children were nowhere in sight. “Wendy? Peter!” ing to the house, the nursery, “Don't let Father Kill ing,” He turned to his father. “Oh, I hate yout” - “We were, for a long while. Now we're going to really start ving, insted of being handled ‘and rhissaged, we'fe going to ‘dy was still crying and ‘Peter joined her again. “Just a it, just one moment, just another moment of ‘nuutiery,” ‘They ran into the nursery. The veldtland wes empty save for ‘he lions waiting, looking at thém. “Peter, Wend?” ‘The door slammed. . “Wendy, Peter!” George Hadley and his wife whided and ran back to the door. “Open the door!” cxied George Hadley, trying the knob. “Why, they've locked it from’ thi ontsidel Peter!” He beat at the door. “Open up!” . He heard Peter's voice outside, against the door. 7THE ILLUSTRATED MAN “Don't let them switch off the nursery and the house,” he ‘was saying: E "Me. and Mrs, George Hadley beat at the door, “Now, don't beridicalous, children. It’s time to go. Mr, McClean’ll be here ina minute and . . 2” “And then they heard the sounds. The lions on three sides of them, in the yellow veldt ers, padding throagh the dry straw, rumbling and roaring in their throats. The.ions. ‘Mr, Hadley looked at his wife and they tumed and looked ‘pack at the beasts edging slowly forward, crouching, tals stif. Mr. and Mrs. Hadley screamed. ‘And suddenly they realized why those other screams had sounded familia, “Well, here-T am,” said David McClean in the nursery door- way. “Oh, hello.” He stared at the two-children seated in the bailter of the open glade eating a litle picnic lunch, Beyond them was the water hole and the yellow veldtland; above was the hot sun. He began to perspire, “Where are your father anid mother?” : "The children looked ‘up and smiled. “Oh, they'll be here directly” ; "Good, we must get-going” At.a distance Mr. McClean saw the lions fighting and clawing and then quieting down to feed in silence under the shady trees. ‘He squinted at the Ions with his hand up to his eyes. Now the lions were done feeding. They moved to the water hole to drink. , ‘A shadow flickered over Mr. McClean’s hot face. Many shadows fickered. The vultures were dropping down the blaz ing sky. “A cup of tea?” asked Wendy in the silence. ‘The Mlostrated Man shifted in his sleep. He turned, and each time he turned another picture came to view, coloring his back, his arm, his wrist. He Bung a hand over the dry night grass. The fingers uncurled and there tipon his palm another Iiustration stined to life, He twisted, and on his chest was an empty space of stars and blackness, deep, deep, and something moving among those stars, something falling in the blackness, falling while E 1aThe Veldt questions: | EW aid Tye BeRMTTS Teer uTMEcessary as Wife and mother? 2. What is one specific way the Hadleys continued to spoil their children even after they realized that there was something wrong with the nursery? 3. Why didn’t the nursery respond to George's request for Aladdin and his lamp? 4, Why did the parents go back to sleep even though they knew the children disobeyed and broke into the nursery? 5. Why did Mrs. Hadley, who had been so frightened of the nursery, urge George to let the kids have it on for one last time? 6. Why were Wendy and Peter so apathetic over the death of their parents at the end? 7. What were some of the mistakes the parents made in raising their children? 8. Critics site “abandonment” as a key theme of this short story....how would the theme of abandonment apply?Harrison Bergeron By Kurt Vonnegut THE YEAR WAS 2081, and everybody was finally equal. They weren't only equal before God and the law. They were equal every which way. Nobody was smarter than anybody else. Nobody was better looking than anybody else. Nobody was stronger or quicker than anybody else. All this equality was due to the 211th, 212th, and 213th Amendments to the Constitution, and to the unceasing vigilance of agents of the United States Handicapper General. Some things about living still weren’t quite right, though. April, for instance, still drove people crazy by not being springtime. And it was in that clammy month that the H-G men took George and Hazel Bergeron’s fourteen-year-old son, Harrison, away, It was tragic, all right, but George and Hazel couldn't think about it very hard. Hazel had a perfectly average intelligence, which meant she couldn’t think about anything except in short bursts. And George, while his intelligence was way above normal, had a little mental handicap radio in his ear. He was required by law to wear it at all times. It was tuned to a government transmitter. Every twenty seconds or so, the transmitter would send out some sharp noise to keep people like George from taking unfair advantage of their brains. George and Hazel were watching television. There were tears on Hazel’s cheeks, but she’d forgotten for the moment what they were about. On the television screen were ballerinas. A buzzer sounded in George’s head. His thoughts fled in panic, like bandits from a burglar alarm. “That was a real pretty dance, that dance they just did,” said Hazel. “Huh?” said George. “That dance ~ It was nice,” said Hazel. “Yup,” said George. He tried to think a little about the ballerinas. They werent really very good - no better than anybody else would have been, anyway. They were burdened with sashweights and bags of birdshot, and their faces were masked, so that no one, seeing a free and graceful gesture or a pretty face, would feel like something the cat drug In. George was toying with the vague notion that maybe dancers shouldn't be handicapped. But he didn’t get very far with it before another noise in his ear radio scattered his thoughts. George winced. So did two out of the eight ballerinas, Hazel saw him wince. Having no mental handicap herself she had to ask George what the latest sound had been. “Sounded like somebody hitting a milk bottle with a ball peen hammer,” said George. “Y'd think It would be real interesting, hearing all the different sounds,” said Hazel, a little envious, “All the things they think up.” “Um,” said George. “Only, if I was Handicapper General, you know what I would do?” said Hazel. Hazel, as 2 matter of fact, bore a strong resemblance to the Handicapper General, a woman named Diana Moon Glampers. “If I was Diana Moon Glampers,” said Hazel, “I’d have chimes on Sunday ~ just chimes. Kind of in honor of religion.”“I could think, if it was just chimes,” said George. Well - maybe make ‘em real loud,” said Hazel. “I think I'd make a good Handicapper General.” c “Good as anybody else,” said George. Who knows better’n I do what normal is?” said Hazel. ~Right," said George. He began to think glimmeringly about his abnormal son who was now in jail, about Harrison, but a twenty-one-gun salute in his head stopped that. “Boy!” said Hazel, “that was a doozy, wasn’t it?” It was such a doozy that George was white and trembling and tears stood on the rims of his red eyes. Two of the eight ballerinas had collapsed to the studio floor, were holding their temples. ~All of a sudden you look so tired,” said Hazel. "Why don’t you stretch out on the sofa, so’s you can rest your handicap bag on the pillows, honeybunch.” She was referring to the forty-seven pounds of birdshot in Canvas bag, which was padiocked around George’s neck. “Go on and rest the bag for a little while,” she said, "I don't care if you're not equal to me for a while.” George weighed the bag with his hands. “I don’t mind it,” he said. “I don’t notice it any more. It's just a part of me. “You been so tired lately - kind of wore out,” said Hazel. “If there was just some way we could make a little hole in the bottom of the bag, and just take out a few of them lead balls. Just a few.” “Two years in prison and two thousand dollars fine for every ball I took out,” said George, “I don't call that a bargain.” “If you could just take a few out when you came home from work,” said Hazel. “I mean - you don’t compete with anybody around here. You just set around.” “if I tried to get away with it,” sald George, "then other people’d get away with it and pretty soon we'd be right back to the dark ages again, with everybody competing against everybody else. You wouldn't like that, would you?” “Yd hate it,” said Hazel. “There you are," said George. "The minute people start cheating on laws, what do you think happens to society?” If Hazel hadn't been able to come up with an answer to this question, George couldn't have supplied one, A siren was going off in his head. “Reckon it'd fall all apart,” said Hazel. “What would?” said George blankly. “Society,” said Hazel uncertainly. "Wasn't that what you just said?” ( “Who knows?" said George. a3The television program was suddenly Interrupted for a news bulletin. It wasn’t clear at first as to what the bulletin was about, since the announcer, like all announcers, had a serious speech impediment, For about half a minute, and in a state of high excitement, the announcer tried to say, “Ladies and gentlemen - ” He finally gave up, handed the bulletin to a ballerina to read. “That's all right -” Hazel said of the announcer, “he tried. That's the big thing. He tried to do the best he could with what God gave him. He should get a nice raise for trying so hard.” “Ladies and gentlemen” said the ballerina, reading the bulletin. She must have been extraordinarily beautiful, because the mask she wore was hideous. And it was easy to see that she was the strongest and ‘most graceful of all the dancers, for her handicap bags were as big as those worn by two-hundred-pound men. And she had to apologize at once for her voice, which was a very unfair voice for a woman to use. Her voice was @ warm, luminous, timeless melody. "Excuse me ~ ” she said, and she began again, making her voice absolutely uncompetitive. “Harrison Bergeron, age fourteen,” she said in a grackle squawk, “has just escaped from jal, where he was held on suspicion of plotting to overthrow the government. He Is @ genius and an athlete, is under— handicapped, and-should be regarded as extremely dangerous.” A police photograph of Harrison Bergeron was flashed on the screen — upside down, then sideways, upside down again, then right side up. The picture showed the full length of Harrison against a background calibrated in feet and inches. He was exactly seven feet tall. ‘The rest of Harrison's appearance was Halloween and hardware. Nobody had ever worn heavier handicaps. He had outgrown hindrances faster than the H~G men could think them up. Instead of a little ear radio for a mental handicap, he wore a tremendous pair of earphones, and spectacles with thick wavy lenses. The spectacles were intended to make him not only half blind, but to give him whanging headaches besides. ‘Scrap metal was hung all over him. Ordinarily, there was a certain symmetry, a military neatness to the handicaps issued to strong people, but Harrison looked like a walking junkyard. In the race of life, Harrison carried three hundred pounds. ‘And to offset his good looks, the H~G men required that he wear at all times a red rubber ball for a nose, keep his eyebrows shaved off, and cover his even white teeth with black caps at snaggle-tooth random. “If you see this boy,” said the ballerina, “do not ~ I repeat, do not ~ try to reason with him. ‘There was the shriek of a door being torn from its hinges. Screams and barking cries of consternation came from the television set. The photograph of Harrison Bergeron on the screen jumped again and again, as though dancing to the tune of an earthquake, George Bergeron correctly identified the earthquake, and well he might have ~ for many was the time his ‘own home had danced to the same crashing tune. “My God ~" said George, “that must be Harrison!” The realization was blasted from his mind instantly by the sound of an automobile collision in his head. ‘When George could open his eyes again, the photograph of Harrison was gone. A living, breathing Harrison filled the screen.Clanking, clownish, and huge, Harrison stood in the center of the studio. The knob of the uprooted studio door was still in his hand. Ballerinas, technicians, musicians, and announcers cowered on thelr knees before him, expecting to di “1 am the Emperor!” cried Harrison, “Do you hear? I am the Emperor! Everybody must do what I say at once!” He stamped his foot and the studio shook. SNE GEASS T SORE ETE = "TE BENOWEN™CripPreU, ODDIE, sickened anrer greater rater thar-any: eran who ever lived! Now watch me become what I can become!” Harrison tore the straps of his handicap harness like wet tissue paper, tore straps guaranteed to support five thousand pounds. Harrison‘s scrap-iron handicaps crashed to the floor. Harrison thrust his thumbs under the bar of the padlock that secured his head harness. The bar snapped like celery. Harrison smashed his headphones and spectacles against the wall. He flung away his rubber-ball nose, revealed a man that would have awed Thor, the god of thunder. ] shall now select my Empress!” he said, looking down on the cowering people. “Let the first woman who dares rise to her feet claim her mate and her throne!” ‘A moment passed, and then a ballerina arose, swaying like a willow. Harrison plucked the mental handicap from her ear, snapped off her physical handicaps with marvelous delicacy. Last of all, he removed her mask. She was blindingly beautiful. \ Now" said Harrison, taking her hand, “shall we show. the people the meaning of the word dance? Music!” he commanded, ‘The musicians scrambled back into their chairs, and Harrison stripped them of their handicaps, too. “Play your best,” he told them, “and I'll make you barons and dukes and ear's.” ‘The music began. It was normal at first - cheap, silly, false. But Harrison snatched two musicians from their chairs, waved them like batons as he sang the music as he wanted it played. He slammed them back into their chairs. ‘The music began again and was much improved. Harrison and his Empress merely listened to the music for while - listened gravely, as though synchronizing their heartbeats with it. ‘They shifted their weights to their toes. Harrison placed his big hands on the girl’s tiny waist, letting her sense the weightlessness that would soon be hers. ‘And then, in an explosion of joy and grace, into the air they sprang! ( Not only were the laws of the land abandoned, but the law of gravity and the laws of motion as well They reeled, whirled, swiveled, flounced, capered, gamboled, and spun. aaThey leaped like deer on the moon, The studio ceiling was thirty feet high, but each leap brought the dancers nearer to it. It became thelr obvious intention to kiss the ceiling. They kissed it. And then, neutralizing gravity with love and pure will, they remained suspended in air inches below the ceiling, and they kissed each other for a long, long time. It was then that Diana Moon Glampers, the Handicapper General, came into the studio with a double- barreled ten-gauge shotgun. She fired twice, and the Emperor and the Empress were dead before they hit the floor. Diana Moon Glampers loaded the gun again. She aimed it at the musicians and told them they had ten seconds to get their handicaps back on. It was then that the Bergerons’ television tube burned out. Hazel turned to comment about the blackout to George. But George had gone out into the kitchen for a can of beer. George came back in with the beer, paused while a handicap signal shook him up. And then he sat down again. “You been crying?” he said to Hazel. “Yup,” she said, “What about?” he said. “I forget,” she said. “Something real sad on television.” “What was it?” he said. “It's all kind of mixed up in my mind,” said Hazel. “Forget sad things,” said George. “I always do,” said Hazel. “That's my girl,” said George. He winced. There was the sound of a riveting gun in his head. “Gee - I could tell that one was a doozy,” said Hazel. “You can say that again,” said George. “Gee ~" said Hazel, "I could tell that one was a doozy.”alo Harrison Bergeron: Completely Equal “Answer the following questions as thoroughly as possible. 1. Describe the state of the U.S. society as described in the first paragraph. How has “equality” been achieved? 2. Consider the characters of George and Hazel. Why isn’t Hazel handicapped? 3. How does George seem to feel about his handicaps? s Consider the character of Harrison in terms of both his physical qualities and personality traits. Why is he considered a threat to society? 5. In your opinion, what Is the shedding of Harrison’s handicaps symbolic of? 6. What is the significance of the dance that Harrison performs with the ballerina? How does the ( style In which the story is written change in this passage? 7. Why do you think the Vonnegut decides to write dance scene in this way? How do George and Hazel react to the televised murder of their son? What connections can you make between this scene and Fahrenheit 451? 2 What do you consider to be the message of Harrison Bergeron (there are multiple)? What leads you to this understanding of the text? 10.Reread the first column of the story. What revelations occur to you now that you know the ending?A&P - John Updike 4 Aap by john updike In walks these three girls in nothing but bathing suits. T'm in the third check-out slot, with my back to the door, so I don't see them until they're over by the bread. The one that caught my eye first was the one in the plaid green two-piece. She was a chunky kid, with a good tan and a sweet broad soft-looking can with those two crescents of white just. under it, where the sun never seems to hit, at the top of the backs of her legs. I stood there with my hand ona box of HiHlo crackers trying to remember if I rang it up or not. [ring it up again and the customer starts giving me hell, She's one of these cash-register-watchers, a witch about fifty with rouge on her cheekbones and no eyebrows, and I knowit made her day to trip me up. She'd been watching cash registers forty years and probably never seen a mistake before. By the time I got her feathers smoothed and her goodies into a bag -- she gives me alittle snort in passing, if she'd been born at the right time they would have burned her over in Salem -- by the time I get her on her way the girls had circled around the bread and were coming back, without a pushcart, back my way along the counters, in the aisle between the check-outs and the Special bins. They didn't even have shoes on. There ‘was this chunky one, with the two-piece ~ it was bright green and the seams on the bra were still sharp and her belly was still pretty pale so I guessed she just got it (the suit) -- there was this one, with one of those chubby berry-faces, the lips all bunched together under her nose, this one, and a tall one, with black hair that hadn't quite frizzed right, and one of these sunburns right across under the eyes, and a chin that was too Jong ~ you know, the kind of girl other girls think is very "striking" and "attractive" but never quite makes it, as they very well know, which is why they like her so much -- and then the third one, that wasn't quite so tall. She was the queen. She kind of led them, the other two peeking around and making their shoulders round. She didn't look around, not this queen, she just walked straight on slowly, on these long white prima donna legs. She came dowma little hard on her heels, as if she didn't walk in her bare feet that much, putting down her heels and then letting the weight move along to her toes as if she was testing the floor with every step, putting a little deliberate extra action into it. You never know for sure how girls' minds work (do you really think it's a mind in there or just a little buzz like a bee in a glassjar?) but you got the idea she had talked the other two into coming in here with her, and now she was showing them how to do it, walk slow and hold yourself straight. She had on a kind of dirty-pink - - beige maybe, I don't know ~ bathing suit with a little nubble all over it and, what got me, the straps were down. They were off her shoulders looped loose around the cool tops of her arms, and I guess as a result the suit had slipped a little on her, so all around the top of the cloth there was this shining rim. If it hadn't been