Also in 2025 Practice Test B English, question 17.
Passage Excerpt from In Search of the Unknown
Excerpt from In Search of the Unknown
by Robert W. Chambers
It was at that time the policy of the trustees and officers of the Zoological Gardens neither to employ collectors nor to send out expeditions in search of specimens. The society decided to depend upon voluntary contributions, and I was always busy, part of the day, in dictating answers to correspondents who wrote offering their services as hunters of big game, collectors of all sorts of fauna, trappers, snarers, and also to those who offered specimens for sale, usually at exorbitant rates.
To the proprietors of . . . mangy lynxes, moth-eaten coyotes, and dancing bears I returned courteous but uncompromising refusals—of course, first submitting all such letters, together with my replies, to Professor Farrago.
One day towards the end of May, however, just as I was leaving Bronx Park to return to town, Professor Lesard, of the reptilian department, called out to me that Professor Farrago wanted to see me a moment; so I . . . retraced my steps to the temporary, wooden building occupied by Professor Farrago, general superintendent of the Zoological Gardens. The professor, who was sitting at his desk before a pile of letters and replies submitted for approval by me, pushed his glasses down and looked over them at me with a whimsical smile that suggested amusement, impatience, annoyance, and perhaps a faint trace of apology.
“Now, here’s a letter,” he said, with a deliberate gesture towards a sheet of paper impaled on a file—“a letter that I suppose you remember.” He disengaged the sheet of paper and handed it to me.
“Oh yes,” I replied, with a shrug; “of course the man is mistaken—or—”
“Or what?” demanded Professor Farrago, tranquilly, wiping his glasses.
“—Or a liar,” I replied.
After a silence he leaned back in his chair and bade me read the letter to him again, and I did so with a contemptuous tolerance for the writer, who must have been either a very innocent victim or a very stupid swindler. I said as much to Professor Farrago, but, to my surprise, he appeared to waver.
“I suppose,” he said, with his near-sighted, embarrassed smile, “that nine hundred and ninety-nine men in a thousand would throw that letter aside and condemn the writer as a liar or a fool?”
“In my opinion,” said I, “he’s one or the other.”
“He isn’t—in mine,” said the professor, placidly.
“What!” I exclaimed. “Here is a man living all alone on a strip of rock and sand between the wilderness and the sea, who wants you to send somebody to take charge of a bird that doesn’t exist!”
“How do you know,” asked Professor Farrago, “that the bird in question does not exist?”
“It is generally accepted,” I replied, sarcastically, “that the great auk has been extinct for years. Therefore I may be pardoned for doubting that our correspondent possesses a pair of them alive.”
“Oh, you young fellows,” said the professor, smiling wearily, “you embark on a theory for destinations that don’t exist.”
He leaned back in his chair, his amused eyes searching space for the imagery that made him smile.
“Like swimming squirrels, you navigate with the help of Heaven and a stiff breeze, but you never land where you hope to—do you?”
Rather red in the face, I said: “Don’t you believe the great auk to be extinct?”
“Audubon saw the great auk.”
“Who has seen a single specimen since?”
“Nobody—except our correspondent here,” he replied, laughing.
I laughed, too, considering the interview at an end, but the professor went on, coolly:
“Whatever it is that our correspondent has—and I am daring to believe that it is the great auk itself—I want you to secure it for the society.”
When my astonishment subsided my first conscious sentiment was one of pity. Clearly, Professor Farrago was on the verge of dotage—ah, what a loss to the world!
I believe now that Professor Farrago perfectly interpreted my thoughts, but he betrayed neither resentment nor impatience. I drew a chair up beside his desk—there was nothing to do but to obey, and this fool’s errand was none of my conceiving.
Together we made out a list of articles necessary for me and itemized the expenses I might incur, and I set a date for my return, allowing no margin for a successful termination to the expedition.
“Never mind that,” said the professor. “What I want you to do is to get those birds here safely. Now, how many men will you take?”
“None,” I replied, bluntly; “it’s a useless expense, unless there is something to bring back. If there is I’ll wire you, you may be sure.”
“Very well,” said Professor Farrago, good-humoredly, “you shall have all the assistance you may require. Can you leave to-night?”
The old gentleman was certainly prompt. I nodded, half-sulkily, aware of his amusement.
“So,” I said, picking up my hat, “I am to start north to find a place called Black Harbor, where there is a man named Halyard who possesses, among other household utensils, two extinct great auks—”
We were both laughing by this time. I asked him why on earth he credited the assertion of a man he had never before heard of.
“I suppose,” he replied, with the same half-apologetic, half-humorous smile, “it is instinct. I feel, somehow, that this man Halyard has got an auk—perhaps two. I can’t get away from the idea that we are on the eve of acquiring the rarest of living creatures. It’s odd for a scientist to talk as I do; doubtless you’re shocked—admit it, now!”
But I was not shocked; on the contrary, I was conscious that the same strange hope that Professor Farrago cherished was beginning, in spite of me, to stir my pulses, too.
“If he has—” I began, then stopped.
The professor and I looked hard at each other in silence.
“Go on,” he said, encouragingly.
But I had nothing more to say, for the prospect of beholding with my own eyes a living specimen of the great auk produced a series of conflicting emotions within me which rendered speech profanely superfluous.
From IN SEARCH OF THE UNKNOWN by Robert W. Chambers—Public Domain
Audubon: John James Audubon, an ornithologist and artist who created scientific illustrations of birds
dotage: a loss of reasoning brought about by old age
Question
Read this sentence from paragraph 3.
The professor, who was sitting at his desk before a pile of letters and replies submitted for approval by me, pushed his glasses down and looked over them at me with a whimsical smile that suggested amusement, impatience, annoyance, and perhaps a faint trace of apology.
What does the phrase “a faint trace of apology” convey about the professor?
- AIt indicates that the professor feels bad that he has to call the narrator to his office after work.
- BIt shows that the professor is hesitant to share his opinions with the narrator.
- CIt implies that the professor is uncomfortable criticizing the narrator’s work.
- DIt suggests that the professor knows that the conversation will be frustrating for the narrator.
Show the answer
Correct answer: D
The question asks what the phrase “a faint trace of apology” in paragraph 3 conveys about the professor.
A. Incorrect. The fact that the narrator had intended to leave the office for the day is not the source of the professor’s faintly apologetic manner, which is instead caused by the professor’s understanding that their conversation about the letter and the expedition is likely to cause an argument (“with a whimsical smile that suggested amusement, impatience, annoyance” [paragraph 3]). In paragraph 29, the professor asks the narrator if he can leave on an expedition that same evening, which indicates that the professor does not feel bad about taking up the narrator’s time after work.
B. Incorrect. The paragraphs that follow the sentence from paragraph 3 show the professor sharing his opinions without pause, even when his opinion of the narrator is unflattering (“ ‘Like swimming squirrels, you navigate with the help of Heaven and a stiff breeze, but you never land where you hope to—do you?’ ” [paragraph 17]).
C. Incorrect. The professor knows that the narrator will push back regarding the letter, but the professor is not uncomfortable challenging the narrator. Professor Farrago seems perfectly at ease and comfortable as he begins the discussion with the narrator.
D. CORRECT. The professor is both amused and annoyed by the narrator’s dismissal of the possibility that great auks still exist, and the professor knows that the narrator is likely to react negatively to being sent on what the narrator considers a “fool’s errand” (paragraph 25).
Question analysis
This question focuses on a single phrase in the excerpt from Robert W. Chambers’s In Search of the Unknown: as the professor looks up from a pile of letters, his whimsical smile shows “a faint trace of apology.” Students must work out what that hint of apology says about him. The phrase is brief and old-fashioned, and several explanations for it seem natural.
- Grade level
- Grade 8 reading and task
- Compared with grade 7
- Above grade 7 Grade 7 students often infer a character’s feelings from a description. Here the phrase ends a 46-word sentence of early-1900s prose, follows three other moods, and has to be interpreted from the scene as a whole, beyond typical grade 7 work.
- Estimated difficulty
- Among the hardest on the SHSAT: a non-obvious approach, heavy reading, or a well-hidden trap.
- Thinking it demands
- Depth of knowledge 3, strategic thinking · mainly analyze
- What makes it hard
- Reading between the lines major
- A very close wrong answer moderate
- Evidence in several places moderate
- Complex sentences minor
- Evidence
- Answered from several paragraphs or stanzas
- Reading level
- Passage: about grade 9, 1066 words; question and choices: about grade 10, 123 words.
- Students, last 30 days
- Not enough answers yet to show (it takes 10).
Why it is hard, traps and wrong answers (shows the answer)
Why it is hard
The phrase comes before a word of the conversation is spoken, so the reason for the apology lies ahead in the text. Two natural guesses compete with it: the professor has called the narrator back just as he was leaving, and he is about to question one of the narrator’s replies. Only a reader who follows the scene to the narrator’s scorn for the letter and the errand sees that the professor, at ease throughout, is sorry for what he is about to put the narrator through.
Reading between the lines major Working it out
Nothing explains the apology; students must reason from the talk that follows, in which the professor sends the narrator after birds the narrator believes extinct, that the professor expects resistance. (Graesser, Singer & Trabasso, 1994; Kintsch, 1998)
A very close wrong answer moderate Choosing the answer
The choice about criticizing the narrator’s work and the right one both tie the apology to the coming talk about a letter; one places discomfort in the professor, the other frustration in the narrator. (Embretson & Wetzel, 1987; Gorin & Embretson, 2006; Ascalon et al., 2007)
Evidence in several places moderate Working it out
What the professor anticipates appears only later: the narrator’s scorn for the letter in paragraphs 5–14 and his view of the trip as a “fool’s errand” in paragraph 25. (Kirsch & Mosenthal, 1990; Gorin & Embretson, 2006)
Complex sentences minor Understanding the question
The phrase closes a 46-word sentence, after a clause about the pile of letters and a run of three other moods, “amusement, impatience, annoyance.” (Abedi & Lord, 2001; Freedle & Kostin, 1993; Messick, 1989)
Strategy: Read the full sentence and then the conversation it opens, and test each choice against how the professor actually speaks and acts in that conversation.
Traps
- Reads too much in: A reasonable-sounding conclusion that goes further than the text allows.
- Half right: One half of a two-part choice is right and the other is not.
- Twists what the text says: Uses the text's topic and ideas but changes what it says: who did it, how much, when, or why.
The wrong answers, classified
A Reads too much in (Graesser, Singer & Trabasso, 1994)
Ties the apology to the timing, since Professor Lesard stopped the narrator as he was leaving Bronx Park, but the professor later asks him to leave on the trip that same night.
B Twists what the text says (King et al., 2004)
Reads the apology, and the “embarrassed smile” of paragraph 9, as reluctance to speak, though the professor states his belief in the letter plainly and even teases the narrator.
C Half right (King et al., 2004; Thissen, Steinberg & Fitzpatrick, 1989)
Rightly senses that the professor is about to challenge the narrator’s reply to a letter, but he does it “placidly” and “coolly,” with no sign of discomfort.
Working it out, step by step
Figure out what the question asks
This asks what one phrase shows about the professor: “a faint trace of apology.” Faint means slight, and a trace is a small sign. So his smile looks a little bit sorry. Why would he feel sorry? You find out from the talk that follows.
Read the whole sentence
Paragraph 3 says the professor looked at the narrator “with a whimsical smile that suggested amusement, impatience, annoyance, and perhaps a faint trace of apology.” Whimsical means playful. He is amused by the narrator and a bit annoyed with him. Then he picks up a letter the narrator has already turned down.
See what the professor is about to do
The professor is about to defend that letter. Then he sends the narrator after the birds in it. The narrator thinks the birds are extinct, or all dead. In paragraph 25 he calls the trip “this fool’s errand,” a pointless job. The professor seems to know the narrator will hate this. That is why his smile looks a little sorry.
Check each choice
- A does not fit. He later asks, “Can you leave to-night?” (paragraph 29). He is not sorry about taking the narrator’s time.
- B does not fit. He shares his opinion plainly: “He isn’t—in mine” (paragraph 11).
- C does not fit. He does challenge the narrator, but calmly. He speaks “placidly” and “coolly,” with no sign of being uneasy.
- D fits. He knows the talk will annoy the narrator.
Watch out: C is tempting because the professor is about to disagree with the narrator. But nothing shows that he is uncomfortable about it.
Choose the answer
The slight apology shows that the professor expects the narrator to be frustrated. So the answer is D, “It suggests that the professor knows that the conversation will be frustrating for the narrator.”
Why this answer and not the closest wrong one
C is the closest wrong choice. Both C and D link the apology to the talk about the letter. But C puts the bad feeling in the professor, as if he were nervous. He is not. He speaks “placidly,” which means calmly. D puts the bad feeling in the narrator, and the narrator does get upset.
More questions like this
The original DOE question
The passage “Excerpt from In Search of the Unknown” as printed (page 21)
