Adapted from The Story of Eclipses by George F. Chambers (1900)

Observations of total solar eclipses during the nineteenth century have been, for the most part, carried out under circumstances so essentially different from everything that has gone before, that not only does a new chapter seem desirable but also a new form of treatment. Up to the beginning of the eighteenth century, the observations (even the best of them) may be said to have been made and recorded with but few exceptions by unskilled observers with no clear ideas as to what they should look for and what they might expect to see. Things improved a little during the eighteenth century, and the observations by Halley, Maclaurin, Bradley, Don Antonio Ulloa, Sir W. Herschel, and others in particular rose to a much higher standard than any that had preceded them. However, it has only been during the nineteenth century, and especially during the latter half of it, that total eclipses of the sun have been observed under circumstances calculated to extract from them large and solid extensions of scientific knowledge.

The total eclipse of July 28, 1851, may be said to have been the first which was the subject of an “Eclipse Expedition,” a phrase which of late years has become exceedingly familiar. The total phase was visible in Norway and Sweden, and great numbers of astronomers from all parts of Europe flocked to those countries. The red flames were very much in evidence, and the fact that they belonged to the sun and not to the moon was clearly established. Hind mentions that “the aspect of Nature during the total eclipse was grand beyond description.” This feature is dwelt upon with more than usual emphasis in many of the published accounts. I have never seen it suggested that the mountainous character of the country may have had something to do with it, but that idea would seem not improbable.

In the year 1858, two central eclipses of the sun occurred, both presenting some features of interest. That of March 15 was annular, the central line passing across England. The weather generally was unfavorable and the annular phase was only observed at a few places, but important meteorological observations were made and yielded results, as regards the diminution of temperature, which were very definite.

According to the passage, Maclaurin made observations of solar eclipses __________.

Adapted from Scientific American Supplement No. 1082 Vol. XLII (September 26th, 1896)

The instinct of spiders in at once attacking a vital part of their antagonist—as in the case of a theridion butchering a cockroach by first binding its legs and then biting the neck—is most remarkable; but they do not always have it their own way. A certain species of mason wasp selects a certain spider as food for its larvæ, and, entombing fifteen or sixteen in a tunnel of mud, fastens them down in a paralyzed state as food for the prospective grubs.

During the past autumn, large numbers of these compelling creatures appeared at intervals. Thus I observed a vast network of lines that seemed to have descended over the town of Whitstable, in Kent, and which were not visible the day before or the day after. Many were fifteen to twenty feet long; they stretched from house to lamppost, from tree to tree, from bush to bush; and within six or seven feet of the ground I counted, in a garden, twenty-four or more parallel strands. The rapidity with which spiders work may be gathered from the fact that, while moving about in my room, I found their lines strung from the very books I had, a moment before, been using.

Insect life, as might have been expected after so mild a winter and so dry a spring and summer in 1896, is intensely exuberant. The balance is preserved by a corresponding number of spiders. On May 25th and 26th, the east wall of the vicarage of Burgh-by-sands was coated with a tissue of web so delicate that it required a very close scrutiny to detect it. I could find none of the spinners. Every square inch of the building appeared coated with filmy lines, crossing in places, but mostly horizontal, from north to south.

Why does the mason wasp capture spiders?

Adapted from The Principles of Breeding by S.L. Goodale (1861)

The object of the husbandman, like that of people engaged in other occupations, is profit; and like other people, the farmer may expect success proportionate to the skill, care, judgment, and perseverance with which his or her operations are conducted. The best policy of farmers generally is to make stock husbandry in some one or more of its departments a leading aim—that is to say, while they shape their operations according to the circumstances in which they are situated, these should steadily embrace the conversion of a large proportion of the crops grown into animal products, and this because, by so doing, they may not only secure a present livelihood, but best maintain and increase the fertility of their lands.

The object of the stock grower is to obtain the most valuable returns from his or her vegetable products. He or she needs, as Bakewell happily expressed it, "the best machine for converting vegetation and other animal food into money." He or she will therefore do well to seek animals such as will pay best for the expense of procuring the machinery, for the care and attention bestowed, and for the consumption of raw material.

The author believes that converting crop growth into animal production will not only increase the wealth of the farmer, but will also do which of the following?

Adapted from The Story of Eclipses by George F. Chambers (1900)

The primary meaning of the word “eclipse” is a forsaking, quitting, or disappearance. Hence the covering over of something by something else, or the immersion of something in something; and these apparently crude definitions will be found on investigation to represent precisely the facts of the case.

Inasmuch as the Earth and the Moon are for our present purpose practically “solid bodies,” each must cast a shadow into space as the result of being illuminated by the sun, regarded as a source of light.

The various bodies which together make up the solar system, that is to say, in particular, those bodies called the “planets”—some of them “primary,” others “secondary” (alias “satellites” or “moons”)—are constantly in motion. Consequently, if we imagine a line to be drawn between any two at any given time, such a line will point in a different direction at another time, and so it may occasionally happen that three of these ever-moving bodies will come into one and the same straight line. Now the consequences of this state of things were admirably well pointed out nearly half a century ago by a popular writer, who in his day greatly aided the development of science amongst the masses. “When the sun is the furthest away of three solar bodies which are all facing the same direction, the intermediate body deprives the other extreme body, either wholly or partially, of the illumination which it usually receives. When one of the extremes is the Earth, the intermediate body intercepts, wholly or partially, the other extreme body from the view of the observers situated at places on the Earth which are in the common line of direction, and the intermediate body is seen to pass over the other extreme body as it enters upon or leaves the common line of direction. The phenomena resulting from such contingencies of position and direction are variously called eclipses, transits, and occultations, according to the relative apparent magnitudes of the interposing and obscured bodies, and according to the circumstances which attend them.”

Which of these statements is not supported by the text?

Adapted from Scientific American Supplement No. 1082 Vol. XLII (September 26th, 1896)

There is no more eager contest than that which has been going on for some time between gas and electricity. Which of these two systems of lighting will triumph? Will electricity suppress gas, as gas has dethroned the oil lamp? A few years ago, the answer to this question would not have been doubtful, and it seemed as if gas in such a contest must play the role of the earthen pot against the iron one. At present the case is otherwise.

The Auer burner has reestablished the equilibrium, and the Denayrouze burner is perhaps going to decide the fate of electricity. As naturalists say, the function creates the organ, and it is truly interesting to observe that in measure as the need of a more intense and cheaper light grows with us, science makes it possible for us to satisfy it by giving us new systems of lighting or by improving those that we already have at our disposal.

What a cycle traversed in twenty years! What progress made! Let us remember that the electric light scarcely became industrial until the time of the Exposition (1878), and that the Auer burner obtained the freedom of the city only five or six years ago. Is there any need of recalling the advantages of these two lights? In the first, a feeble disengagement of caloric, automatic lighting and a steadier light; in the second, a better utilization of the gas, which gives more light and less heat.

A description of the Auer burner will not be expected from us. It is now so widely employed as to render a new description useless. As an offset, we think that our readers will be more interested in a description of the Denayrouze burner, the industrial application of which has but just begun. This burner has been constructed in view of the best possible utilization of the gas, in approaching a complete theoretical combustion. In order that it may give its entire illuminating power, gas, as we know, must be burned in five and a half times its volume of air. In the Denayrouze burner, the gas burns in four and four-tenths its volume of air. The result reached is, consequently, very appreciable.

Which of the following best describes the primary advantage of the Denayrouze burner?

Adapted from The Principles of Breeding by S. L. Goodale (1861)

The Jersey cow, formerly known as the Alderney, is almost exclusively employed for dairy purposes, and may not be expected to give satisfaction for other uses. Their milk is richer than that of any other cows, and the butter made from it possesses a superior flavor and a deep rich color, and consequently commands an extraordinary price in all markets where good butter is appreciated.

Jersey cattle are of Norman origin, and are noted for their milking properties. The cows are generally very docile and gentle, but the males when past two or three years of age often become vicious and unmanageable. It is said that the cows fatten readily when dry.

There is no branch of cattle husbandry which promises better returns than the breeding and rearing of milch cows. In the vicinity of large towns and cities are many cows which having been culled from many miles around, on account of dairy properties, are considerably above the average, but taking the cows of the country together they do not compare favorably with the oxen. Farmers generally take more pride in their oxen, and strive to have as good or better than any of their neighbors, while if a cow will give milk enough to rear a large steer calf and a little besides, it is often deemed satisfactory.

Jersey cows originally come from __________.

Adapted from "Birds’ Nests" by John Burroughs in A Book of Natural History (1902, ed. David Starr Jordan)

The woodpeckers all build in about the same manner, excavating the trunk or branch of a decayed tree, and depositing the eggs on the fine fragments of wood at the bottom of the cavity. Though the nest is not especially an artistic work, requiring strength rather than skill, yet the eggs and the young of few other birds are so completely housed from the elements, or protected from their natural enemies—the jays, crows, hawks, and owls. A tree with a natural cavity is never selected, but one which has been dead just long enough to have become soft and brittle throughout. The bird goes in horizontally for a few inches, making a hole perfectly round and smooth and adapted to his size, then turns downward, gradually enlarging the hole, as he proceeds, to the depth of ten, fifteen, twenty inches, according to the softness of the tree and the urgency of the mother bird to deposit her eggs. While excavating, male and female work alternately. After one has been engaged fifteen or twenty minutes, drilling and carrying out chips, it ascends to an upper limb, utters a loud call or two, when its mate soon appears, and, alighting near it on the branch, the pair chatter and caress a moment; then the fresh one enters the cavity and the other flies away.

Which of these statements is NOT supported by the passage?

Adapted from “The Stars” by Sir Robert S. Ball in Wonders of Earth, Sea, and Sky (1902, ed. Edward Singleton Holden)

The group of bodies that cluster around our sun forms a little island in the extent of infinite space. We may illustrate this by drawing a map in which we shall endeavor to show the stars placed at their proper relative distances. 

We first open the compasses one inch, and thus draw a little circle to represent the path of Earth. We are not going to put in all the planets; we take Neptune, the outermost, at once. To draw its path, I open the compasses to thirty inches, and draw a circle with that radius. That will do for our solar system, though the comets no doubt will roam beyond these limits. 

To complete our map, we ought to put in some stars. There are a hundred million to choose from, and we shall begin with the brightest. It is often called the Dog Star, but astronomers know it better as Sirius. Let us see where it is to be placed on our map. Sirius is a good deal further off than Neptune; so I try at the edge of the drawing-board; I have got a method of making a little calculation that I do not intend to trouble you with, but I can assure you that the results it leads me to are quite correct; they show me that this board is not big enough. But could a board which was big enough fit into this lecture theatre? No; in fact, the board would have to go out through the wall of the theatre, out through London. Indeed, big as London is, it would not be large enough to contain the drawing-board that I should require. It would have to stretch about twenty miles from where we are now assembled. We may therefore dismiss any hope of making a practical map of our system on this scale if Sirius is to have its proper place. 

Let us, then, take some other star. We shall naturally try with the nearest of all. It is one that we do not know in this part of the world, but those that live in the southern hemisphere are well acquainted with it. The name of this star is Alpha Centauri. Even for this star, we should require a drawing three or four miles long if the distance from the earth to the sun is to be taken as one inch. 

You see what an isolated position our sun and its planets occupy. The stars might be very troublesome neighbors if they were very much closer to our system; it is therefore well they are so far off. If they were near at hand, they would drag us into unpleasantly great heat by bringing us too close to the sun, or produce a coolness by pulling us away from the sun, which would be quite as disagreeable.

Which of these statements about the Dog Star is true?

Adapted from “The Stars” by Sir Robert S. Ball in Wonders of Earth, Sea, and Sky (1902, ed. Edward Singleton Holden)

The group of bodies that cluster around our sun forms a little island in the extent of infinite space. We may illustrate this by drawing a map in which we shall endeavor to show the stars placed at their proper relative distances. 

We first open the compasses one inch, and thus draw a little circle to represent the path of Earth. We are not going to put in all the planets; we take Neptune, the outermost, at once. To draw its path, I open the compasses to thirty inches, and draw a circle with that radius. That will do for our solar system, though the comets no doubt will roam beyond these limits. 

To complete our map, we ought to put in some stars. There are a hundred million to choose from, and we shall begin with the brightest. It is often called the Dog Star, but astronomers know it better as Sirius. Let us see where it is to be placed on our map. Sirius is a good deal further off than Neptune; so I try at the edge of the drawing-board; I have got a method of making a little calculation that I do not intend to trouble you with, but I can assure you that the results it leads me to are quite correct; they show me that this board is not big enough. But could a board which was big enough fit into this lecture theatre? No; in fact, the board would have to go out through the wall of the theatre, out through London. Indeed, big as London is, it would not be large enough to contain the drawing-board that I should require. It would have to stretch about twenty miles from where we are now assembled. We may therefore dismiss any hope of making a practical map of our system on this scale if Sirius is to have its proper place. 

Let us, then, take some other star. We shall naturally try with the nearest of all. It is one that we do not know in this part of the world, but those that live in the southern hemisphere are well acquainted with it. The name of this star is Alpha Centauri. Even for this star, we should require a drawing three or four miles long if the distance from the earth to the sun is to be taken as one inch. 

You see what an isolated position our sun and its planets occupy. The stars might be very troublesome neighbors if they were very much closer to our system; it is therefore well they are so far off. If they were near at hand, they would drag us into unpleasantly great heat by bringing us too close to the sun, or produce a coolness by pulling us away from the sun, which would be quite as disagreeable.

Which of these statements about Alpha Centauri is true?

Adapted from "How the Soil is Made" by Charles Darwin in Wonders of Earth, Sea, and Sky (1902, ed. Edward Singleton Holden)

Worms have played a more important part in the history of the world than most persons would at first suppose. In almost all humid countries they are extraordinarily numerous, and for their size possess great muscular power. In many parts of England a weight of more than ten tons (10,516 kilograms) of dry earth annually passes through their bodies and is brought to the surface on each acre of land, so that the whole superficial bed of vegetable mould passes through their bodies in the course of every few years. From the collapsing of the old burrows, the mold is in constant though slow movement, and the particles composing it are thus rubbed together. Thus the particles of earth, forming the superficial mold, are subjected to conditions eminently favorable for their decomposition and disintegration. This keeps the surface of the earth perfectly suited to the growth of an abundant array of fruits and vegetables.

Worms are poorly provided with sense-organs, for they cannot be said to see, although they can just distinguish between light and darkness; they are completely deaf, and have only a feeble power of smell; the sense of touch alone is well developed. They can, therefore, learn little about the outside world, and it is surprising that they should exhibit some skill in lining their burrows with their castings and with leaves, and in the case of some species in piling up their castings into tower-like constructions. But it is far more surprising that they should apparently exhibit some degree of intelligence instead of a mere blind, instinctive impulse, in their manner of plugging up the mouths of their burrows. They act in nearly the same manner as would a man, who had to close a cylindrical tube with different kinds of leaves, petioles, triangles of paper, etc., for they commonly seize such objects by their pointed ends. But with thin objects a certain number are drawn in by their broader ends. They do not act in the same unvarying manner in all cases, as do most of the lower animals.

Worms are characterized as all of the following in this passage EXCEPT __________.