ACT Knowledge of Language Practice Test: 9 questions

Question 1

For years, our school newspaper, the Eastfield Ledger, covered pep rallies, cafeteria menus, and the occasional new teacher, it [1] had never broken a real story. That changed last spring, when a sophomore named Priya Nair noticed that every water fountain near the gym was marked out of order. She asked the principals [2] office how long the fountains had been broken, but nobody seemed to know. For instance, [3] Priya decided to find out for herself. She requested the district's maintenance records, which are open to the public. The stack of work orders that arrived two weeks later show [4] that the fountains had been reported broken eleven times in three years and repaired only once. Priya spent the next month checking every claim twice, verifying each one again, [5] before she wrote a word. When the facilities manager met with the athletic director to discuss her questions, he [6] admitted that the repair money had gone toward a new scoreboard. Priya quoted his admission word for word. [7] Her finished article drew on three sources: the work orders, [8] interviews with custodians, and the district budget. The story ran on the front page in May. Within a week, the district coughed up the cash [9] to fix every fountain in the building. Holding one of the first copies off the press, the story struck Priya as [10] proof that a student paper could do more than report scores. [5] Which choice is best for the underlined portion?

Accepted Answer

twice

Answer

NO CHANGE

Answer

twice, double-checking it,

Answer

two times, twice over,

Question 2

Public swimming pools in the United States began not as places to play but as places to get clean. In the late 1800s, few homes in crowded city neighborhoods had bathtubs, so reformers built public baths – plain indoor tanks of water – [1] where workers could wash for free. The rules posted at the door of each bath was [2] strict: no splashing, no games, and no more than twenty minutes in the water.

Lifeguards in tall wooden chairs watched over the crowds. [3] By the 1920s, the purpose of the pool had changed. Cities were building huge outdoor pools ringed by lawns and bleachers, some [4] held thousands of swimmers at once. Swimming had become a form of recreation rather than a chore.

After World War II, families who moved to the suburbs often built backyard pools of their [5] own, and city pools lost both swimmers and funding. As a result, [6] many of the grand pools built before the war were drained, paved over, or left to crack.

Today, some cities are restoring old pools and building new ones. For my younger brother and I [7], the pool down the street is the center of summer. It gives us a place to cool off, to learn a skill, and meeting [8] neighbors we would never otherwise know. Any child in town can swim all season with a free pass that costs nothing [9]. The reformers who built those first baths wanted cleaner workers, but they ended up giving cities something way cooler [10]: a place where strangers share the same water.

Accepted Answer

free pass

Answer

NO CHANGE

Answer

free pass, at no cost

Answer

complimentary free pass

Question 3

Inside a converted garage at the edge of town, Marisol Vega spends her mornings beside a furnace that never cools below two thousand degrees. The furnace's [1] steady roar is the first thing visitors notice.

Glassblowing looks effortless when Vega does it. She dips a long steel pipe into the molten glass, gathers a glowing blob on its tip, and blows; gently [2] into the other end. The blob swells like a bubble of honey. Turning the pipe constantly, the glass is kept centered by her [3] so that it never sags. Every step must be done quickly; glass [4] that cools unevenly will crack.

Vega learned the craft at nineteen, sweeping floors in a local studio in exchange for lessons. The owner, Tomas Reyes, let her practice with scraps of glass. [5] When Reyes retired and sold the studio to his nephew, he [6] gave Vega his favorite set of tools. The tongs, along with a wooden paddle and a pair of shears, hangs [7] above her bench today, worn smooth by forty years of use.

Vega now sells bowls and vases at craft fairs across the state. Each piece has a tiny bubble trapped near its base, a flaw she leaves on purpose. [8] The bubble, she says, reminds buyers that a person made the piece. She admits that the work is exhausting and tiring [9], but every morning she lights the furnace again, totally stoked [10] to see what the glass will become.

Accepted Answer

exhausting

Answer

NO CHANGE

Answer

tiring and exhausting too

Answer

exhausting, wearing her out,

Question 4

For nearly ninety years, the official weather station in the town of Merrill sat in a grassy lot behind the post office. The daily readings from its thermometer and rain gauge were [1] sent to the national weather service, which used them to track the climate of the region.

Then the town grew around it, a [2] parking lot replaced the grass, and a three-story bank went up next door. Over the years, the stations [3] nighttime readings crept slowly upward. Eventually, [4] meteorologists began to suspect that the station was measuring the town rather than the weather.

To test the idea, the weather service set up a second station in a farm field two miles outside town. Comparing the two sets of numbers, the pattern was obvious to the researchers. [5] The old station – hemmed in by pavement, brick, and parked cars, ran [6] about three degrees warmer at night than the field did. Its instruments were identical to the ones behind the post office. [7]

The meteorologist whom [8] led the study recommended moving the station to the field, but she warned that a move would break the town's long record. To keep the record whole, the weather service ran both stations side by side at the same time [9] for a full year so that old and new readings could be matched. Merrill's post office was built in 1912 and still has its original clock. [10] Today the record continues, and the station measures the weather again.

Accepted Answer

DELETE the underlined portion.

Answer

NO CHANGE

Answer

simultaneously at once

Answer

together, at the same time,

Question 5

The summer I turned fifteen, my cousin Dale decided I was old enough to drive the tractor on his family's farm. Dale had been driving it since he was twelve, and he talked about it the way other people talk about riding a bike, I [1] was terrified.

The tractor was older than both of us put together. Its seat – a metal pan with holes punched in it, was [2] hot enough to burn through my jeans by noon. On the first morning, Dale and me [3] drove out to an empty hayfield where I could do no harm. He taught me the three rules his own father had taught him: keep [4] both hands on the wheel, watch the ground ahead, and always looking [5] behind you before you back up.

The first hour went badly. Behind me, the rows of raked hay finally ran straight. [6] I stalled the engine four times and dragged the rake in wobbly loops across the field. In other words, [7] by the afternoon something had clicked. I stopped fighting the wheel and let the tractor do the work.

Dale told his father that he had never seen a beginner learn so fast. [8] I pretended not to hear, but I grinned the whole way home. Now, whenever I visit, Dale hands me the key without a word, and I hop on that bad boy [9] as if I have done it all my life. I still feel a small thrill when the old engine coughs and rumbles to life [10].

Accepted Answer

climb into the seat

Answer

NO CHANGE

Answer

ascend to the operator's position

Answer

jump on the thing

Question 6

For years, our school newspaper, the Eastfield Ledger, covered pep rallies, cafeteria menus, and the occasional new teacher, it [1] had never broken a real story. That changed last spring, when a sophomore named Priya Nair noticed that every water fountain near the gym was marked out of order. She asked the principals [2] office how long the fountains had been broken, but nobody seemed to know. For instance, [3] Priya decided to find out for herself. She requested the district's maintenance records, which are open to the public. The stack of work orders that arrived two weeks later show [4] that the fountains had been reported broken eleven times in three years and repaired only once. Priya spent the next month checking every claim twice, verifying each one again, [5] before she wrote a word. When the facilities manager met with the athletic director to discuss her questions, he [6] admitted that the repair money had gone toward a new scoreboard. Priya quoted his admission word for word. [7] Her finished article drew on three sources: the work orders, [8] interviews with custodians, and the district budget. The story ran on the front page in May. Within a week, the district coughed up the cash [9] to fix every fountain in the building. Holding one of the first copies off the press, the story struck Priya as [10] proof that a student paper could do more than report scores. [9] Which choice is most consistent with the style and tone of the essay?

Accepted Answer

found the money

Answer

NO CHANGE

Answer

forked over the dough

Answer

procured the requisite fiscal resources

Question 7

Public swimming pools in the United States began not as places to play but as places to get clean. In the late 1800s, few homes in crowded city neighborhoods had bathtubs, so reformers built public baths – plain indoor tanks of water – [1] where workers could wash for free. The rules posted at the door of each bath was [2] strict: no splashing, no games, and no more than twenty minutes in the water.

Lifeguards in tall wooden chairs watched over the crowds. [3] By the 1920s, the purpose of the pool had changed. Cities were building huge outdoor pools ringed by lawns and bleachers, some [4] held thousands of swimmers at once. Swimming had become a form of recreation rather than a chore.

After World War II, families who moved to the suburbs often built backyard pools of their [5] own, and city pools lost both swimmers and funding. As a result, [6] many of the grand pools built before the war were drained, paved over, or left to crack.

Today, some cities are restoring old pools and building new ones. For my younger brother and I [7], the pool down the street is the center of summer. It gives us a place to cool off, to learn a skill, and meeting [8] neighbors we would never otherwise know. Any child in town can swim all season with a free pass that costs nothing [9]. The reformers who built those first baths wanted cleaner workers, but they ended up giving cities something way cooler [10]: a place where strangers share the same water.

Accepted Answer

more lasting

Answer

NO CHANGE

Answer

super awesome

Answer

of a more durable and enduring nature

Question 8

Inside a converted garage at the edge of town, Marisol Vega spends her mornings beside a furnace that never cools below two thousand degrees. The furnace's [1] steady roar is the first thing visitors notice.

Glassblowing looks effortless when Vega does it. She dips a long steel pipe into the molten glass, gathers a glowing blob on its tip, and blows; gently [2] into the other end. The blob swells like a bubble of honey. Turning the pipe constantly, the glass is kept centered by her [3] so that it never sags. Every step must be done quickly; glass [4] that cools unevenly will crack.

Vega learned the craft at nineteen, sweeping floors in a local studio in exchange for lessons. The owner, Tomas Reyes, let her practice with scraps of glass. [5] When Reyes retired and sold the studio to his nephew, he [6] gave Vega his favorite set of tools. The tongs, along with a wooden paddle and a pair of shears, hangs [7] above her bench today, worn smooth by forty years of use.

Vega now sells bowls and vases at craft fairs across the state. Each piece has a tiny bubble trapped near its base, a flaw she leaves on purpose. [8] The bubble, she says, reminds buyers that a person made the piece. She admits that the work is exhausting and tiring [9], but every morning she lights the furnace again, totally stoked [10] to see what the glass will become.

Accepted Answer

eager

Answer

NO CHANGE

Answer

mad hyped

Answer

in a state of anticipatory eagerness

Question 9

The summer I turned fifteen, my cousin Dale decided I was old enough to drive the tractor on his family's farm. Dale had been driving it since he was twelve, and he talked about it the way other people talk about riding a bike, I [1] was terrified.

The tractor was older than both of us put together. Its seat – a metal pan with holes punched in it, was [2] hot enough to burn through my jeans by noon. On the first morning, Dale and me [3] drove out to an empty hayfield where I could do no harm. He taught me the three rules his own father had taught him: keep [4] both hands on the wheel, watch the ground ahead, and always looking [5] behind you before you back up.

The first hour went badly. Behind me, the rows of raked hay finally ran straight. [6] I stalled the engine four times and dragged the rake in wobbly loops across the field. In other words, [7] by the afternoon something had clicked. I stopped fighting the wheel and let the tractor do the work.

Dale told his father that he had never seen a beginner learn so fast. [8] I pretended not to hear, but I grinned the whole way home. Now, whenever I visit, Dale hands me the key without a word, and I hop on that bad boy [9] as if I have done it all my life. I still feel a small thrill when the old engine coughs and rumbles to life [10].

Accepted Answer

NO CHANGE

Answer

starts

Answer

turns on

Answer

begins to operate