Year 9 ICAS English 5-Question Sample

Question 1 of 5 Vocabulary

The word counterpart makes the opposite figure a responsive

Literary narrative

The Window Across the Courtyard

Our narrow apartment courtyard caught evening light in rectangles. From my desk I could see one opposite window, a strip of wall and, after six o'clock, a person in a yellow sleeve. I was rehearsing a class presentation by moving three coloured cards whenever I changed topics. The person lifted a book when I lifted the red card, lowered it when I lowered the blue, and leaned away when I reached the green. A reflection would have copied my colours. This figure answered with different objects, more counterpart than mirror.

I decided she was mocking my stiff gestures. To prove it, I changed the order: green, red, red, blue. She followed the first two movements, hesitated at the repeated red, then placed both hands flat on the sill. I read the pause as surrender and gave a ridiculous bow. She did not bow back. She pointed at my clock, raised four fingers and tapped her own chest twice. I had no key for that sentence, but I promoted a guess to a verdict anyway: she thought I had been talking for too long.

The next evening, a power failure emptied both windows of faces. I continued with my phone torch balanced behind the cards. Halfway through slide four, a small square of light appeared opposite. It stayed steady while I spoke slowly, vanished when I rushed and returned after I paused. I tried the paragraph again. This time the light remained. The signal could not tell me who held it or why that person had watched, yet its timing answered one useful question. My fourth slide was not difficult because of its diagram. I had been swallowing the explanation between two breaths.

On presentation morning, I expected the opposite blind to stay closed. Instead, a sheet of paper filled the window. It carried only a large 4, then a gap, then another 4. I read it as an instruction to leave space around the slide, although it might also have meant four minutes, four cards or something private to the room across from mine. I practised the pause rather than claiming the message. At school, the diagram finally had time to make sense to people who had not drawn it.

That afternoon I held up a blank card as thanks. The yellow sleeve appeared with another blank card, turned it sideways and set it on the sill like a small open door. Then the blind came down. I never learnt the person's name, and I cannot report that we understood each other perfectly. What crossed the courtyard was narrower and more reliable: one stranger noticed where another person's words had no room, and the speaker chose to make some.

A neighbour B copy C opponent D partner

Question 2 of 5 Comprehension

What useful speaking information crosses the darkened courtyard?

Literary narrative

The Window Across the Courtyard

Our narrow apartment courtyard caught evening light in rectangles. From my desk I could see one opposite window, a strip of wall and, after six o'clock, a person in a yellow sleeve. I was rehearsing a class presentation by moving three coloured cards whenever I changed topics. The person lifted a book when I lifted the red card, lowered it when I lowered the blue, and leaned away when I reached the green. A reflection would have copied my colours. This figure answered with different objects, more counterpart than mirror.

I decided she was mocking my stiff gestures. To prove it, I changed the order: green, red, red, blue. She followed the first two movements, hesitated at the repeated red, then placed both hands flat on the sill. I read the pause as surrender and gave a ridiculous bow. She did not bow back. She pointed at my clock, raised four fingers and tapped her own chest twice. I had no key for that sentence, but I promoted a guess to a verdict anyway: she thought I had been talking for too long.

The next evening, a power failure emptied both windows of faces. I continued with my phone torch balanced behind the cards. Halfway through slide four, a small square of light appeared opposite. It stayed steady while I spoke slowly, vanished when I rushed and returned after I paused. I tried the paragraph again. This time the light remained. The signal could not tell me who held it or why that person had watched, yet its timing answered one useful question. My fourth slide was not difficult because of its diagram. I had been swallowing the explanation between two breaths.

On presentation morning, I expected the opposite blind to stay closed. Instead, a sheet of paper filled the window. It carried only a large 4, then a gap, then another 4. I read it as an instruction to leave space around the slide, although it might also have meant four minutes, four cards or something private to the room across from mine. I practised the pause rather than claiming the message. At school, the diagram finally had time to make sense to people who had not drawn it.

That afternoon I held up a blank card as thanks. The yellow sleeve appeared with another blank card, turned it sideways and set it on the sill like a small open door. Then the blind came down. I never learnt the person's name, and I cannot report that we understood each other perfectly. What crossed the courtyard was narrower and more reliable: one stranger noticed where another person's words had no room, and the speaker chose to make some.

A Slide four needs more speaking space. B The unseen person designed the diagram. C Four minutes is the presentation limit. D The phone torch causes the power failure.

Question 3 of 5 Voice

What does the final wordless sequence communicate most precisely?

Literary narrative

The Window Across the Courtyard

Our narrow apartment courtyard caught evening light in rectangles. From my desk I could see one opposite window, a strip of wall and, after six o'clock, a person in a yellow sleeve. I was rehearsing a class presentation by moving three coloured cards whenever I changed topics. The person lifted a book when I lifted the red card, lowered it when I lowered the blue, and leaned away when I reached the green. A reflection would have copied my colours. This figure answered with different objects, more counterpart than mirror.

I decided she was mocking my stiff gestures. To prove it, I changed the order: green, red, red, blue. She followed the first two movements, hesitated at the repeated red, then placed both hands flat on the sill. I read the pause as surrender and gave a ridiculous bow. She did not bow back. She pointed at my clock, raised four fingers and tapped her own chest twice. I had no key for that sentence, but I promoted a guess to a verdict anyway: she thought I had been talking for too long.

The next evening, a power failure emptied both windows of faces. I continued with my phone torch balanced behind the cards. Halfway through slide four, a small square of light appeared opposite. It stayed steady while I spoke slowly, vanished when I rushed and returned after I paused. I tried the paragraph again. This time the light remained. The signal could not tell me who held it or why that person had watched, yet its timing answered one useful question. My fourth slide was not difficult because of its diagram. I had been swallowing the explanation between two breaths.

On presentation morning, I expected the opposite blind to stay closed. Instead, a sheet of paper filled the window. It carried only a large 4, then a gap, then another 4. I read it as an instruction to leave space around the slide, although it might also have meant four minutes, four cards or something private to the room across from mine. I practised the pause rather than claiming the message. At school, the diagram finally had time to make sense to people who had not drawn it.

That afternoon I held up a blank card as thanks. The yellow sleeve appeared with another blank card, turned it sideways and set it on the sill like a small open door. Then the blind came down. I never learnt the person's name, and I cannot report that we understood each other perfectly. What crossed the courtyard was narrower and more reliable: one stranger noticed where another person's words had no room, and the speaker chose to make some.

A Recognition comes without continued access. B The gesture invites entry into the opposite apartment. C It confirms one shared meaning for every sign. D The gesture mocks the narrator's wordless thank-you.

Question 4 of 5 Structure

The blackout's main structural purpose here is to

Literary narrative

The Window Across the Courtyard

Our narrow apartment courtyard caught evening light in rectangles. From my desk I could see one opposite window, a strip of wall and, after six o'clock, a person in a yellow sleeve. I was rehearsing a class presentation by moving three coloured cards whenever I changed topics. The person lifted a book when I lifted the red card, lowered it when I lowered the blue, and leaned away when I reached the green. A reflection would have copied my colours. This figure answered with different objects, more counterpart than mirror.

I decided she was mocking my stiff gestures. To prove it, I changed the order: green, red, red, blue. She followed the first two movements, hesitated at the repeated red, then placed both hands flat on the sill. I read the pause as surrender and gave a ridiculous bow. She did not bow back. She pointed at my clock, raised four fingers and tapped her own chest twice. I had no key for that sentence, but I promoted a guess to a verdict anyway: she thought I had been talking for too long.

The next evening, a power failure emptied both windows of faces. I continued with my phone torch balanced behind the cards. Halfway through slide four, a small square of light appeared opposite. It stayed steady while I spoke slowly, vanished when I rushed and returned after I paused. I tried the paragraph again. This time the light remained. The signal could not tell me who held it or why that person had watched, yet its timing answered one useful question. My fourth slide was not difficult because of its diagram. I had been swallowing the explanation between two breaths.

On presentation morning, I expected the opposite blind to stay closed. Instead, a sheet of paper filled the window. It carried only a large 4, then a gap, then another 4. I read it as an instruction to leave space around the slide, although it might also have meant four minutes, four cards or something private to the room across from mine. I practised the pause rather than claiming the message. At school, the diagram finally had time to make sense to people who had not drawn it.

That afternoon I held up a blank card as thanks. The yellow sleeve appeared with another blank card, turned it sideways and set it on the sill like a small open door. Then the blind came down. I never learnt the person's name, and I cannot report that we understood each other perfectly. What crossed the courtyard was narrower and more reliable: one stranger noticed where another person's words had no room, and the speaker chose to make some.

A identify who lives across the courtyard B prove the earlier gestures were hostile C replace imitation with a timing test D end the rehearsal before slide four

Question 5 of 5 Syntax

The pronoun it in the timing sequence retrieves

Literary narrative

The Window Across the Courtyard

Our narrow apartment courtyard caught evening light in rectangles. From my desk I could see one opposite window, a strip of wall and, after six o'clock, a person in a yellow sleeve. I was rehearsing a class presentation by moving three coloured cards whenever I changed topics. The person lifted a book when I lifted the red card, lowered it when I lowered the blue, and leaned away when I reached the green. A reflection would have copied my colours. This figure answered with different objects, more counterpart than mirror.

I decided she was mocking my stiff gestures. To prove it, I changed the order: green, red, red, blue. She followed the first two movements, hesitated at the repeated red, then placed both hands flat on the sill. I read the pause as surrender and gave a ridiculous bow. She did not bow back. She pointed at my clock, raised four fingers and tapped her own chest twice. I had no key for that sentence, but I promoted a guess to a verdict anyway: she thought I had been talking for too long.

The next evening, a power failure emptied both windows of faces. I continued with my phone torch balanced behind the cards. Halfway through slide four, a small square of light appeared opposite. It stayed steady while I spoke slowly, vanished when I rushed and returned after I paused. I tried the paragraph again. This time the light remained. The signal could not tell me who held it or why that person had watched, yet its timing answered one useful question. My fourth slide was not difficult because of its diagram. I had been swallowing the explanation between two breaths.

On presentation morning, I expected the opposite blind to stay closed. Instead, a sheet of paper filled the window. It carried only a large 4, then a gap, then another 4. I read it as an instruction to leave space around the slide, although it might also have meant four minutes, four cards or something private to the room across from mine. I practised the pause rather than claiming the message. At school, the diagram finally had time to make sense to people who had not drawn it.

That afternoon I held up a blank card as thanks. The yellow sleeve appeared with another blank card, turned it sideways and set it on the sill like a small open door. Then the blind came down. I never learnt the person's name, and I cannot report that we understood each other perfectly. What crossed the courtyard was narrower and more reliable: one stranger noticed where another person's words had no room, and the speaker chose to make some.

A the building's electrical power B the yellow-sleeved person C the opposite light signal D the difficult diagram

Year 9 English sample

Answer the sample questions

The word counterpart makes the opposite figure a responsive

What useful speaking information crosses the darkened courtyard?

What does the final wordless sequence communicate most precisely?

The blackout's main structural purpose here is to

The pronoun it in the timing sequence retrieves