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Easy Going Compositions Marcel Beleyn op BBC World Sample questions on set books
Rebecca Bollens van 4 ECO is onze eerste prijswinnaar van een wedstrijd uit het tijdschrift Easy Going. Ze mocht een draagbare CD-speler ontvangen uit handen van de heer Desmet van de uitgeverij Pelckmans, die aan elk nummer een wedstrijd met mooie prijzen verbindt.
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Writing assignment; a day in the life of a KSO junior
Monday 4 oclock in the afternoon, schools out. My R.E. teacher gave the class an assignment. He gave us all an egg and tomorrow we have to look after it. A whole day long, this will not be easy, Ill have to be very careful. My eggs name is Bernie and the teacher drew a smiley face on it, so he can recognise it when we have to hand it in.
Tuesday 7.30 in the morning. My alarm clock went off. Normally I smash my hand on it to make it stop, but today I did it very gently because Bernie was lying next to it.
When I went down the stairs, the smell of fried eggs was coming out of the kitchen. What a coincidence , I thought to myself. After I ate my eggs with relish, I took some kitchen paper and rolled Bernie into it. Before I put him in my schoolbag, I took a plastic bag and put it over Bernie in case he should break, so that my books wouldnt be covered in eggwhite and yolk. I took my bike and rode off to school.
As usual I was just in time. The other kids were already standing in line, but I managed to sneak into the line without being spotted by someone from the office.
Chemistry lesson begins. I dont like Chemistry. I took out my book and let my backpack drop on the floor, I totally forgot about Bernie. I took a quick look at him and he was still alive. What a relief!
After a boring first period there was another dull one to begin. Geography! Was I Thrilled!
Morning break. I checked Bernie, everything was still OK. I revised for my French test. My French test went well and Bernie was still doing fine. I began to feel as proud as a peacock. Last lesson of the morning was Dutch. We lined up in front of the class. Our teacher was yelling at a pupil in the classroom. I wanted to see what was happening, so I stood on my schoolbag. Suddenly I heard a cracking sound coming out of the bag. Bernie was dead.
At lunch break, I rode home. I took the old Bernie, or what was left of him, and replaced him with an egg from our fridge. I drew a smiley face on it and wrote BERNIE on his back. I didnt quite remember which eye winked, but I drew it on the left side. Bernie II was born. I put him in kitchen paper and in a plastic bag, had lunch and went back to school.
During gym I put Bernie II in the pocket of my jacket and hung my jacket up. So that nothing could happen to him. One hour to go.
In English I laid Bernie II on my desk so that I could keep an eye on him. Suddenly someone bumped against my desk. Bernie II started rolling off my desk, ready to smash onto the hard, cold floor. But I caught him and broke his fall.
FinallyR.E.! I handed Bernie II over and the teacher didnt even notice it wasnt
Bernie I.
What a day! It was harder than I thought it would be. But after all I did make it. Well, I didnt really make it but lets keep that a secret.
Charlotte
Van Lierde
19/05/03
This is the diary of Clarence, the unlucky Easter Bunny
Only a few days to go before Easter, its starting to get busy again for a simple Easter Bunny like me. And, unfortunately, this period is usually the start of a l lot of impossible troubles too. It all began this morning, when I went to the annual meeting of the Confederation of Easter Bunnies. One of the younger bunnies told me that Venus (the prettiest Easter Bunny ever) was coming too. Apparently, her tennis career in America didnt last long. Anyway, as soon as she came in, I recognised her immediately. Blessed Easter! Shed still got those elegant long ears and that cute little tail. I went straight up to her and tried to sniff as seductively as possible (one of my best tricks) and for a moment, I thought it was really working, until she opened her Gucci-bag and beat me on the head with something that looked like a huge tennis racket. Blessed Easter!
That would certainly be a black eye!
An hour later, when I went back home with my supply of Easter eggs, and still a bit groggy, I passed red traffic lights. Only, I didnt see them (because of the box of course ). Blessed Easter! Never saw such a crash before! There were Easter eggs everywhere and worst of all, my ankle hurt terribly. Because I couldnt get home on my own like this, I decided to call my best friend Santa Claus to pick me up. He said hed come over, but that I might to wait for an hour or two because he had to come all the way from Lapland.
After lying on the highway for five hours, I finally saw something strange moving in the sky. At first, I thought it was God to come and get me, but then I recognised my good old friend Santa Claus. Obviously, he had been driving too fast again cause his reindeer looked pretty sweaty and a bit green.
On our way home, I began to realise that I had some really big troubles. First of all, most of the Easter eggs were gone and second my ankle was obviously broken, so it was impossible for me to deliver any Easter eggs to the children. Luckily, my best friend Santa Claus came up with a solution. He would buy some chocolate eggs at the local supermarket and deliver them to the children.
By way of thanking him (and also because of the reindeer which looked very thirsty), I made them my famous chocolate soup. We were watching TV, when I suddenly saw how Santa Claus was coming out in green spots all over his face. Blessed Easter! Two minutes later, I heard him throwing up in the toilet. I began to worry, so I went to check on the reindeer in the garage. There, it seemed my fears were grounded; all the reindeer had green spots all over their bodies. Blessed Easter! Apparently, it hadnt been such a good idea to use some old chocolate eggs to make the soup. So, here Im sitting then, writing in my diary, with my ankle on a chair and my good old friend Santa Claus next to me, but what can I say Blessed Easter, perhaps? !
Dorine Hantson, 4
ew 2003
March 17 2003
Diary of Emily Bronx
January 1st
My name is Emily and I'm 15 years old. Actually this is the first time that I'm
writing a diary. I've decided to write because I'm not good at speaking. You
see, I can't deal with my problems, so that's why I've decided to write every
little ordinary problem down.
Last night was a big mess! I argued with my best friend Lena because she got drunk. She can be so stupid sometimes!
January 11th
I went to a dancing club last night. I saw a boy and I felt really attracted to
him. Maybe I'm falling in love (again). I didn't talk to him (can I be more
stupid?), I only watched. But the way he looked at me made me realize that he's
interested too. What must I do? He's a total stranger to me; I don't know his
name, I don't know any of his friends and I don't know where he's
from. I'm desperate!
January 30th
I know it has been a while since I wrote, but the last few days and weeks have
been very boring. Except that Lena and me are friends again. 'Friends' is a big
word. I tried to explain to her what she's doing is wrong but she's too stubborn
to understand (ignorant!). She's drinking too much, her notes are terrible (even
compared to mine, imagine that!) and she's acting like a cheap nightclub dancer.
I wonder when our next fight will be?
February 1st
I saw 'him' again at the club the other night. His name is Brandon. He's 17
years old, 1m87 tall, he has dark brown hair, blue eyes and an incredible smile!
He said he would call me this week. I'm excited
February 4th
Brandon called this morning. He has kept me waiting for more than 100 hours! How
dare he? He asked me on a date. I said 'yes' of course. I think he's the one for
me. What shall I wear Saturday?
February 8th
I had a terrible date! I had never noticed that Brandon had (and still has) bad
breath. Even after giving him some candies his mouth was still a dumping-ground
to me. I think it's better for us (by that I mean of course 'for me') to break
up. I don't want to faint and to end up in hospital after giving him a French
kiss!
(I'm still not hungry!!!)
France Vandenhende, 4 EMT 2003
Secret diary
Friday 28th February 2003
Vacation at last! An
entire week away from school, teachers and homework! Well almost, those teachers
just can't leave us alone! Prepare this, study that
it's always the same! But
I've got plenty of time to do all that, first I'm going to relax!
Saturday 1st March 2003
Sunday 2nd March 2003
The weekend, no my
whole vacation is ruined! I told my parents I didn't feel like coming along with
them. Apparently, my opinion doesn't count when it comes to making decisions,
because they forced me to come! They told me I shouldn't behave like an adult,
because I'm still a child!!
The weather is terrible here, so I had to spend the entire day inside.
Monday 3rd March 2003
Nothing special
happened today. The weather is still terrible. Tomorrow we're going home!
Wednesday 5th March 2003
Today I decided to do
some schoolwork. At least I tried to. I told my younger brother and sister to be
quiet, but instead they invited the neighbours' kids over. I can't think of
louder people than them!
First my brother and the neighbours' three boys had the nerve to come into my room. I ordered them to go away, but instead they jumped on my bed. So I called my mother and I asked her to come and help me. But no, she told me to solve my own problems. I've got great parents, haven't I?
When I got back to my room, my brother and 'his friends' were quarrelling and fighting in my room. Eventually, as always, the three boys went home and my brother retreated to his own room.
Peace and quiet at last I thought, but I forgot one thing: my sister and her friend! They kept bothering me with questions about boys and life and growing up. Eventually I was so fed up, I told them horrible stories about life after death and hell. They were so horrified, they left my room screaming like little babies! I love the naivety of 10-year-olds!
Maaike Godefroid, 4 lw 2003
Jurassic
Park 
1) Write about the picture on the extra sheet (= p 56) .
Who is this man? What is his name? What does he do?
What is he doing? Where is he going? What is happening?
2) Yes,
said Grant. But how did InGen make these apatosaurs? Where did they get the
dinosaur
DNA? You need DNA to make a living thing. You cant get DNA from fossils. No
one has ever found
a whole body of a dinosaur. So how did they get dinosaur DNA?
You are Hammonds chief geneticist!
a) What is your name?
b) Explain to Grant how you got the
dinosaur DNA and why you need CRAY XMP
computers
Taste
and Other Tales 
These are the titles of the stories that you have read:A Swim, Taste, Mrs Bixby and the Colonels Coat, The Way Up To Heaven, The Sound Machine, The Leg of Lamb, Poison.
Which title is missing?
Now write the correct title under each of the following extracts. Two of them are from the same story.
The man went over to a drawer and fetched
a ticket and put it on the table.
Its probably right under our noses.
She looked around quickly and saw sailing
past her through the air this small man dressed in white shorts and tennis
shoes, shouting as he went.
She felt extremely strong and, in some
strange sort of way, wonderful. She was a little breathless with it all, but
this was more from pure astonishment at what she had done than from anything
else.
Its no good lying, Doctor, he
said. I know what it means. Its going to be the same all over again.
The little Indian was using all his
willpower to keep him quiet.
You dont know these pawnbrokers, my
dear.
Dont be stupid! Its all too silly
for words. I refuse to be offered like this.
I am so sorry
but it will heal
it will heal.
Wuthering
Heights 
We got here after sunset. Your old fellow-servant brought out a light, gave me an ugly look, and took away the horses. Heathcliff stayed to speak to him, and I entered the kitchen, a dirty, untidy hole. I dare say you wouldnt recognise it: it is so changed since it was in your care. By the fire stood a rough-looking, dirty child, rather like Catherine in the eyes and about the mouth, whom I realised must be .I tried to make friends, but he first cursed, and then set a dog on me.
I wandered round the yard, and knocked at a door. It was opened by a tall man, very untidily dressed, with masses of uncut hair He, too, was like our Catherine .It was her brother. He let me in and shut the door. I saw I was in the huge room that used to look so bright and cheerful when I visited it years ago. Now it is dusty and uncared for. I asked if I might call the maid and be shown to a bedroom. Mr Earnshaw did not answer. He appeared to have forgotten my presence, and seemed so strange and unwelcoming that I hesitated to disturb him again.
I remembered that four miles away lay my delightful home, containing the only people I love on earth; yet there might as well be an ocean between us!
At last I repeated my question.
We have no maid, said Earnshaw. You must wait on yourself.
Where must I sleep, then? I wept. I was tired and miserable.
Joseph will show you Heathcliffs room, he replied. Be so good as to turn your key and fasten the door.
But why, Mr Earnshaw? I asked.
( ..)
Wouldnt it be wiser to order him to leave the house?
No! shouted Earnshaw.
Why not?
b) Answer the I-narrators questions.
Brave New World 
Alternate Thursdays were Bernards Solidarity Service days. After an early dinner at the Aphroditaeum (to which Helmholtz had been elected under Rule Two) he took leave of his friend and, hailing a taxi on the roof, told the man to fly to the Fordson Community Singery. The machine rose a couple of hundred metres, then headed eastwards, and as it turned, there before Bernards eyes, gigantically beautiful, was the Singery. Flood-lighted, its three hundred and twenty metres of white Carrara-surrogate gleamed with a snowy incandescence over Ludgate Hill; at each of the four corners of its helicopter platform an immense T shone crimson against the night, and from the mouths of twenty-four vast golden trumpets rumbled a solemn synthetic music. (Chapter V, §2)
* Describe the Solidarity Service that Bernard
attends in this chapter. How does it end?
* What is Bernards friend like (to look at / as a person)? What does he do?
* What have Bernard and his friend got in common? How do they differ?
* How is the immense T to be accounted for?
* How does the Carrara-surrogate typify Huxleys portrayal of the New
World? Find a similar phrase
in the paragraph above that helps to prove your point.
BONUS What does the abbreviation V.P.S. stand for?
