PSAT Certification PSAT-Reading

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付款成功後, 我們的體統將自動通過電子郵箱將你已購買的PSAT-Reading題库(Preliminary Scholastic Aptitude Test - Reading)發送到你的郵箱。（如果在12小時內未收到，請聯繫我們，注意：不要忘記檢查你的垃圾郵件。）

1、不需要大量的時間金錢，僅需20-30個小時，自學成才，輕鬆通過PSAT PSAT-Reading考試。
2、PSAT PSAT-Reading的考試軟體是類似實際考題研究出來的測試軟體。
3、根據PSAT PSAT-Reading的考試科目不斷的變化，採取不斷的更新，會提供最新的考試內容。
4、在互聯網上提供24小時客戶服務。
5、根據過去的題庫問題及答案，TestPDF提供的PSAT PSAT-Reading考試題庫和真實的考試有緊密的相似性。
6、通過了PSAT認證PSAT-Reading考試在工作上會有很大的晉升機會，使用了TestPDF提供的測試軟體，你會成功的更快。
7、PSAT PSAT-Reading認證是個證明自已潛力的認證，通過認證了的往往比沒有通過認證的同行工資高很多。

消費保證

TestPDF為PSAT認證PSAT-Reading考試提供的測試軟件是很有效的，我們可以保證我們TestPDF提供的題庫是覆蓋面很廣，品質很高的理想考試題庫。你可以先在網站上下載TestPDF提供的部分關於PSAT認證PSAT-Reading考試的題庫電子檔(PDF)試用，TestPDF提供的PSAT-Reading題庫都是為了參加PSAT認證考試所有人員精心研究的，使用我們的題庫，不用花費大量的金錢和時間考試是可以100%過關的，如果失敗，將100%全額退款。

可以保證你100%通過PSAT認證PSAT-Reading考試

我們承諾，所有購買我們TestPDF提供的 PSAT PSAT-Reading題庫，是市場上最新的高通過率的，你只需要記住所有的考試答案，通過考試是很容易的，如果沒有通過考試我們還會全額退款。

提供一年的免費更新服務

現在購買我們的產品，我們將會為你提供一年的免費升級服務，保證你順利通過認證考試。如果有任何更新版本，在一年內你可以無限次數的下載我們的產品。

TestPDF 的 PSAT PSAT-Reading題庫是由頂級IT專家團隊以最高技術水平整理製作的，確保了試題的準確性和專業性。這些IT團隊成員都是來自指定認證專家、培訓師和 PSAT 相關工作從業者，他們對 PSAT-Reading考試內容和 PSAT Certification 認證要求的資歷瞭如指掌，這樣可以確保 PSAT-Reading題庫的高質量。

我們都清楚地知道，IT行業的一個主要問題就是缺乏高質量的學習材料。我們的 PSAT-Reading考試準備材料可以滿足您參加認證考試的一切知識與技巧需求。與實際的認證考試類似，我們的 PSAT PSAT-Reading題庫將為您提供有效的考試問題和答案，藉此了解實際的考試內容。這些問題和答案也會幫助您積累 PSAT-Reading實際測試的經驗，熟悉感會消除臨場緊張情緒，讓您發揮出最佳水平。高品質高價值的 PSAT-Reading題庫100%保證通過 PSAT Certification PSAT-Reading考試並獲得 PSAT Certification 認證。

PSAT PSAT-Reading 考試大綱主題:

最新的 PSAT Certification PSAT-Reading 免費考試真題：

問題 #1

The depth and ______ of Lillian's performance was most noteworthy; she presented works from ragtime
to jazz to classical.

A. scope
B. articulation
C. intensity
D. duration
E. polish

問題 #2

Oliver Goldsmith (17301774) wrote criticism, plays, novels, biographies, travelogues, and nearly every
other conceivable kind of composition. This good-humored essay is from a series published in the Public
Ledger and then in book form as The Citizen of the World (1762).
Were we to estimate the learning of the English by the number of books that are every day published
among them, perhaps no country, not even China itself, could equal them in this particular. I have
reckoned not less than twenty-three new books published in one day, which, upon computation, makes
eight thousand three hundred and ninety-five in one year. Most of these are not confined to one single
science, but embrace the whole circle. History, politics, poetry, mathematics, metaphysics, and the
philosophy of nature, are all comprised in a manual no larger than that in which our children are taught the
letters. If then, we suppose the learned of England to read but an eighth part of the works which daily
come from the press and surely non can pretend to learning upon less easy terms), at this rate every
scholar will read a thousand books in one year. From such a calculation, you may conjecture what an
amazing fund of literature a man must be possessed of, who thus reads three new books every day, not
one of which but contains all the good things that ever were said or written.
And yet I know not how it happens, but the English are not, in reality so learned as would seem from this
calculation. We meet but few who know all arts and sciences to perfection; whether it is that the generality
are incapable of such extensive knowledge, or that the authors of those books are not adequate
instructors. In China, the Emperor himself takes cognizance of all the doctors in the kingdom who profess
authorship. In England, every man may be an author, that can write; for they have by law a liberty, not
only of saying what they please, but of being also as dull as they please.
Yesterday, as I testified to my surprise, to the man in black, where writers could be found in sufficient
number to throw off the books I saw daily crowding from the press. I at first imagined that their learned
seminaries might take this method of instructing the world. But, to obviate this objection, my companion
assured me that the doctors of colleges never wrote, and that some of them had actually forgot their
reading. "But if you desire," continued he, "to see a collection of authors, I fancy I can introduce you to a
club, which assembles every Saturday at seven . . . ." I accepted his invitation; we walked together, and
entered the house some time before the usual hour for the company assembling. My friend took this
opportunity of letting me into the characters of the principal members of the club . . .
"The first person," said he, "of our society is Doctor Nonentity, a metaphysician. Most people think him a
profound scholar, but, as he seldom speaks, I cannot be positive in that particular; he generally spreads
himself before the fire, sucks his pipe, talks little, drinks much, and is reckoned very good company. I'm
told he writes indexes to perfection: he makes essays on the origin of evil, philosophical inquiries upon
any subject, and draws up an answer to any book upon 24 hours' warning . . . ."
Goldsmith believes that

A. we can tell how knowledgeable English authors are by counting the number of books they publish
B. the number of books published in England is not up to standards set in China
C. most English writers are better educated than their Chinese counterparts
D. the number of books published in England says nothing about English scholarship
E. every scholar reads a thousand books a year

問題 #3

Mathew ascended three flights of stairs--passed half-way down a long arched gallery--and knocked at
another old-fashioned oak door. This time the signal was answered. A low, clear, sweet voice, inside the
room, inquired who was waiting without? In a few hasty words Mathew told his errand. Before he had
done speaking the door was quietly and quickly opened, and Sarah Leeson confronted him on the
threshold, with her candle in her hand.
Not tall, not handsome, not in her first youth--shy and irresolute in manner--simple in dress to the utmost
limits of plainness--the lady's-maid, in spite of all these disadvantages, was a woman whom it was
impossible to look at without a feeling of curiosity, if not of interest. Few men, at first sight of her, could
have resisted the desire to find out who she was; few would have been satisfied with receiving for answer,
She is Mrs. Treverton's maid; few would have refrained from the attempt to extract some secret
information for themselves from her face and manner; and none, not even the most patient and practiced
of observers, could have succeeded in discovering more than that she must have passed through the
ordeal of some great suffering at some former period of her life. Much in her manner, and more in her face,
said plainly and sadly: I am the wreck of something that you might once have liked to see; a wreck that
can never be repaired--that must drift on through life unnoticed, unguided, unpitied--drift till the fatal shore
is touched, and the waves of Time have swallowed up these broken relics of me forever.
This was the story that was told in Sarah Leeson's face--this, and no more. No two men interpreting that
story for themselves, would probably have agreed on the nature of the suffering which this woman had
undergone. It was hard to say, at the outset, whether the past pain that had set its ineffaceable mark on
her had been pain of the body or pain of the mind. But whatever the nature of the affliction she had
suffered, the traces it had left were deeply and strikingly visible in every part of her face.
Her cheeks had lost their roundness and their natural color; her lips, singularly flexible in movement and
delicate in form, had faded to an unhealthy paleness; her eyes, large and black and overshadowed by
unusually thick lashes, had contracted an anxious startled look, which never left them and which piteously
expressed the painful acuteness of her sensibility, the inherent timidity of her disposition. So far, the
marks which sorrow or sickness had set on her were the marks common to most victims of mental or
physical suffering. The one extraordinary personal deterioration which she had undergone consisted in
the unnatural change that had passed over the color of her hair.
It was as thick and soft, it grew as gracefully, as the hair of a young girl; but it was as gray as the hair of an
old woman. It seemed to contradict, in the most startling manner, every personal assertion of youth that
still existed in her face. With all its haggardness and paleness, no one could have looked at it and
supposed for a moment that it was the face of an elderly woman. Wan as they might be, there was not a
wrinkle in her cheeks. Her eyes, viewed apart from their prevailing expression of uneasiness and timidity,
still preserved that bright, clear moisture which is never seen in the eyes of the old. The skin about her
temples was as delicately smooth as the skin of a child. These and other physical signs which never
mislead, showed that she was still, as to years, in the very prime of her life. Sickly and sorrow-stricken as
she was, she looked, from the eyes downward, a woman who had barely reached thirty years of age.
From the eyes upward, the effect of her abundant gray hair, seen in connection with her face, was not
simply incongruous--it was absolutely startling; so startling as to make it no paradox to say that she would
have looked most natural, most like herself if her hair had been dyed. In her case, Art would have seemed
to be the truth, because Nature looked like falsehood. What shock had stricken her hair, in the very
maturity of its luxuriance, with the hue of an unnatural old age? Was it a serious illness, or a dreadful grief
that had turned her gray in the prime of her womanhood? That question had often been agitated among
her fellow-servants, who were all struck by the peculiarities of her personal appearance, and rendered a
little suspicious of her, as well, by an inveterate habit that she had of talking to herself. Inquire as they
might, however, their curiosity was always baffled. Nothing more could be discovered than that Sarah
Leeson was, in the common phrase, touchy on the subject of her gray hair and her habit of talking to
herself, and that Sarah Leeson's mistress had long since forbidden every one, from her husband
downward, to ruffle her maid's tranquility by inquisitive questions.
The phrase "Sickly and sorrow-stricken" is an example of which literary device?

A. assonance
B. alliteration
C. intonation
D. repetition
E. parallelism

問題 #4

He was born a slave, but T. Thomas Fortune (18561928) went on to become a journalist, editor, and civil
rights activist, founding several early black newspapers and a civil rights organization that predated W. E.
B. DuBois' Niagara Movement (later the NAACP). Like many black leaders of his time, Fortune was torn
between the radical leanings of DuBois and the more conservative ideology of Booker T. Washington.
This 1884 essay, "The Negro and the Nation," dates from his more militant period.
The war of the Rebellion settled only one question: It forever settled the question of chattel slavery in this
country. It forever choked the life out of the infamy of the Constitutional right of one man to rob another, by
purchase of his person, or of his honest share of the produce of his own labor. But this was the only
question permanently and irrevocably settled. Nor was this the all-absorbing question involved. The right
of a state to secede from the socalled Union remains where it was when the treasonable shot upon Fort
Sumter aroused the people to all the horrors of internecine war. And the measure of protection which the
national government owes the individual members of states, a right imposed upon it by the adoption of the
Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution, remains still to be affirmed.
It was not sufficient that the federal government should expend its blood and treasure to unfetter the limbs
of four millions of people. There can be a slavery more odious, more galling, than mere chattel slavery. It
has been declared to be an act of charity to enforce ignorance upon the slave, since to inform his
intelligence would simply be to make his unnatural lot all the more unbearable. Instance the miserable
existence of .sop, the great black moralist. But this is just what the manumission of the black people of
this country try has accomplished. They are more absolutely under the control of the Southern whites;
they are more systematically robbed of their labor; they are more poorly housed, clothed and fed, than
under the slave regime; and they enjoy, practically, less of the protection of the laws of the state or of the
federal government. When they appeal to the federal government they are told by the Supreme Court to
go to the state authorities --as if they would have appealed to the one had the other given them that
protection to which their sovereign citizenship entitles them! Practically, there is no law in the United
States which extends its protecting arm over the black man and his rights. He is, like the Irishman in
Ireland, an alien in his native land. There is no central or auxiliary authority to which he can appeal for
protection. Wherever he turns he finds the strong arm of constituted authority powerless to protect him.
The farmer and the merchant rob him with absolute immunity, and irresponsible ruffians murder him
without fear of punishment, undeterred by the law, or by public opinion--which connives at, if it does not
inspire, the deeds of lawless violence. Legislatures of states have framed a code of laws which is more
cruel and unjust than any enforced by a former slave state.
The right of franchise has been practically annulled in every one of the former slave states, in not one of
which, today, can a man vote, think, or act as he pleases. He must conform his views to the views of the
men who have usurped every function of government--who, at the point of the dagger, and with shotgun,
have made themselves masters in defiance of every law or precedent in our history as a government.
They have usurped government with the weapons of the cowards and assassins, and they maintain
themselves in power by the most approved practices of the most odious of tyrants. These men have shed
as much innocent blood as the bloody triumvirate of Rome. Today, red handed murderers and assassins
sit in the high places of power, and bask in the smiles of innocence and beauty.
Fortune uses the example of the Irishman to show that

A. one can be born to slavery but rise above it
B. famine is not alien to people in the United States
C. some people have a native land; others have none
D. people may be treated more fairly in a monarchy than in a democracy
E. one can be treated as a foreigner in the land of one's birth

問題 #5

But the Dust-Bin was going down then, and your father took but little, excepting from a liquid point of view.
Your mother's object in those visits was of a house-keeping character, and you was set on to whistle your
father out. Sometimes he came out, but generally not. Come or not come, however, all that part of his
existence which was unconnected with open Waitering was kept a close secret, and was acknowledged
by your mother to be a close secret, and you and your mother flitted about the court, close secrets both of
you, and would scarcely have confessed under torture that you know your father, or that your father had
any name than Dick (which wasn't his name, though he was never known by any other), or that he had
kith or kin or chick or child.
Perhaps the attraction of this mystery, combined with your father's having a damp compartment, to
himself, behind a leaky cistern, at the Dust Bin, a sort of a cellar compartment, with a sink in it, and a smell,
and a plate-rack, and a bottle-rack, and three windows that didn't match each other or anything else, and
no daylight, caused your young mind to feel convinced that you must grow up to be a Waiter too; but you
did feel convinced of it, and so did all your brothers, down to your sister. Every one of you felt convinced
that you was born to the Waitering.
At this stage of your career, what was your feelings one day when your father came home to your mother
in open broad daylight, of itself an act of Madness on the part of a Waiter, and took to his bed (leastwise,
your mother and family's bed), with the statement that his eyes were devilled kidneys. Physicians being in
vain, your father expired, after repeating at intervals for a day and a night, when gleams of reason and old
business fitfully illuminated his being, "Two and two is five. And three is sixpence." Interred in the
parochial department of the neighbouring churchyard, and accompanied to the grave by as many Waiters
of long standing as could spare the morning time from their soiled glasses (namely, one), your bereaved
form was attired in a white neckankecher [sic], and you was took on from motives of benevolence at The
George and Gridiron, theatrical and supper. Here, supporting nature on what you found in the
plates(which was as it happened, and but too often thoughtlessly, immersed in mustard), and on what you
found in the glasses (which rarely went beyond driblets and lemon), by night you dropped asleep standing,
till you was cuffed awake, and by day was set to polishing every individual article in the coffee-room. Your
couch being sawdust; your counterpane being ashes of cigars. Here, frequently hiding a heavy heart
under the smart tie of your white neck ankecher (or correctly speaking lower down and more to the left),
you picked up the rudiments of knowledge from an extra, by the name of Bishops, and by calling
plate-washer, and gradually elevating your mind with chalk on the back of the corner-box partition, until
such time as you used the inkstand when it was out of hand, attained to manhood, and to be the Waiter
that you find yourself.
I could wish here to offer a few respectful words on behalf of the calling so long the calling of myself and
family, and the public interest in which is but too often very limited. We are not generally understood. No,
we are not. Allowance enough is not made for us. For, say that we ever show a little drooping listlessness
of spirits, or what might be termed indifference or apathy. Put it to yourself what would your own state of
mind be, if you was one of an enormous family every member of which except you was always greedy,
and in a hurry. Put it to yourself that you was regularly replete with animal food at the slack hours of one in
the day and again at nine p.m., and that the repleter [sic] you was, the more voracious all your
fellow-creatures came in. Put it to yourself that it was your business, when your digestion was well on, to
take a personal interest and sympathy in a hundred gentlemen fresh and fresh (say, for the sake of
argument, only a hundred), whose imaginations was given up to grease and fat and gravy and melted
butter, and abandoned to questioning you about cuts of this, and dishes of that, each of 'em going on as if
him and you and the bill of fare was alone in the world.
Why does the language "Two and two is five. And three is sixpence" 3rd paragraph illuminate rather than
confuse the character of the father on his deathbed?

A. It was his practice the whole of his daily vocation.
B. It was the amount being communicated that should be paid for his burial.
C. It is reasonable that a father would be concerned about his family's finances following his death.
D. It is normal for a dying person to speak of money or fortune upon their deathbed.
E. It indicates that he wanted his wife and son to be sure to get the money from the compartment.

問題與答案：