Every year, British newspapers report on the stranger questions asked in Oxbridge (Oxford & Cambridge) interviews. Often, though, these questions are not as strange as they first seem. And they are all designed to give applicants   a chance to think. Arriving for her first Oxford interview, my sister Jen saw that there was only one chair in the waiting room. On the chair was a large fork. Jen had heard about the strange things in Oxbridge interviews, and believed that this was a test. "What if they're watching me?" she thought. "If I move the fork, it will show initiative  ; if I don't move it, it will show that I can easily fit into new situations." In the end, she sat uncomfortably on the edge of the chair! Applicants must be prepared for the unexpected. Now it was Jen's turn. She was handed a monkey skull   and asked to talk about it. At first, this seemed unfair --- what could she say? But she soon calmed down, started thinking, and found that there was plenty to talk about. Oxbridge interviews are designed to find out how you think, not just what you think. And there are no wrong answers. Jen learnt that, and she passed the interview. What advice does she give? " Don't be nervous, and be prepared for the unexpected!" Jen learned that it was very important to   _   in order to pass the Oxbridge interviews. A) make up new situation B) show how one thinks C) describe what one hears D) talk about various monkeys
B
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One evening last summer, when I asked my 14-year-old son, Ray, for help with dinner, his response shocked me. "What's a colander ? " he asked. I could only blame myself. In the family, nobody else's hands went in the sauce except my own. But that night, as I explained with a touch of panic that a colander is the thing with holes in it, I wondered what else I hadn't prepared Ray for. As parents, while we focus on our sons' confidence and character, we perhaps don't always consider that we are also raising someone's future roommates, boyfriends, husbands, or fathers. I wanted to know that I'd raised a boy who would never ask the woman in his life, "What's for dinner?" So I came up with a plan: I would offer Ray a private home economics course. I was delighted to find that he didn't say no. For two hours, three days a week, Ray was all mine. One day, as his tomato sauce reduced on the stove, he washed and seasoned a chicken for roasting. Then he rolled out the piecrust   and filled it with apples, all while listening to my explanation on the importance of preheating an oven. I knew that he would rather have been shooting hoops in the driveway than learning to mend socks with his mother--he tried to beg off sewing lessons, even though I insisted that one day, someone would find the sight of him fixing his own shirt very attractive-- but it couldn't be denied that he was learning, and more than just housekeeping. "I appreciate what you do as a mom," he told me one day. Ray now understands the finer points of cooking, and more importantly, he realizes there's nothing masculine   about being helpless. Now, not only can he make his own dinner, but also he can make a big meal for his family. That's what I call a man. I'm glad that I prepared so great a present for my future daughter-in-law. We can infer from the text that Ray   _  . A) made great progress in cooking. B) always thought housework interesting. C) preferred sewing to cooking. D) was unwilling to learn cooking at first.
A
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To my Charlie on his wedding day-- I know you think these notes are silly. I have watched you wear a long face over the years when I give them to you. But understand that sometimes I want to tell you something and I want to get it just right. Putting it down on paper helps me do that. I wish I had been a better writer. I wish I had gone to college. If I had, I think I would have studied English and maybe my vocabulary would have improved. So many times I feel I am using the same words over and over. Like a woman wearing the same dress every day. So boring! What I want to say to you, Charley, is you are marrying a wonderful girl. I think of Catherine in many ways like I think of Roberta. Like a daughter. She is sweet and patient. You should be the same with her, Charley. Here is what you are going to find out about marriage: you have to work at it together. And you have to love three things. You have to love 1) Each other. 2) Your children (when you have some). 3) Your marriage. What I mean by that last one is, there may be times that you fight, and sometimes you and Catherine won't even like each other. But those are the times you have to love your marriage. It's like a third party. Look at your wedding photos. Look at any memories you've made. And if you believe in those memories, they will pull you back together. I'm very proud of you today, Charley. I am putting this in your tuxedo pocket because I know how you lose things. I love you every day! Mom What kind of feeling is mainly revealed in the letter? A) Regret. B) Pride. C) Care. D) Complaint.
C
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When I was growing up, I was embarrassed to be seen with my father. He was badly crippled  , and when we would walk together, his hand on my arm for balance, people would stare, I would be ashamed of the unwanted attention. If ever noticed or bothered, he never let on. It was difficult to walk together--and because of that, we didn't say much as we went along. But as we started out, he always said, "You set the pace. I will try to follow you." Our usual walk was to or from the subway, which was how he got to work. He went to work sick, and even in bad weather. He almost never missed a day, and would make it to the office even if others could not. It was a matter of pride for him. When snow or ice was on the ground, it was impossible for him to walk, even with help... Such times my sister or I would pull him through the streets of Brooklyn, N.Y., on a child's sleigh to the subway entrance. Once there, he would try to grasp handrail until he reached the lower steps that the warmer tunnel air kept ice free. In Manhattan the subway station was the basement of his office building, and he would not have to go outside again until we met him in Brooklyn on his way home. w.w.w.k.s.5.u.c.o.m When I think of it now, I am surprised at how much courage it must have taken for a grown man to suffer from shame and disability. And I am also surprised at how he did it--without bitterness or complaint. He never talked about himself as an object of pity, not did he show any envy of the more fortunate or able. What he looked for in others was a "good heart", and if he found one, the owner was good enough for him. Now that I am older, I believe that is a proper standard by which to judge people, even though I still don't know exactly what a "good heart" is. But I know the times I don't have one myself. He has been away for many years now, but I think of him often. I wonder if he sensed my reluctance to be seen with him during our walks. If he did, I am sorry I never told him how sorry I was, how unworthy I was, how I regretted it.... How did the father get to work usually? A) By subway. B) By bus. C) By wheelchair. D) By bike

A
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