The war was the most peaceful period of my life. The window of my bedroom faced southeast. My mother had curtained it, but that had small effect. I always woke up with the first light and, with all the responsibilities of the previous day melted, felt myself rather like the sun, ready to shine and feel joy. Life never seemed so Simple and clear and full of possibilities as then. I stuck my feet out under the sheets-I called them Mrs. Left and Mrs. Right-and invented dramatic situations for them in which they discussed the problems of the day. At least Mrs. Right did; she easily showed her feelings, but I didn’t have the same control of Mrs. Left, so she mostly contented herself with nodding agreement. They discussed what mother and I should do during the day, what Santa Claus should give a fellow for Christmas, and what steps should be taken to brighten the home. There was that little matter of the baby, for instance. Mother and I could never agree about that. Ours was the only house in the neighborhood without a new baby, and mother said we couldn’t afford one till father came back from the war because if cost seventeen and six. That showed how foolish she was. The Geneys up the road had a baby, and everyone knew they couldn’t afford seventeen. and six. It was probably a cheap baby, and mother wanted something really good, but I felt she was too hard to please. The Geneys baby would have done us fine. Having settled my plans for the day, I got up, put a chair under my window, and lifted the frame high enough to stick out my head. The window overlooked the front gardens of the homes behind ours, and beyond these it looked over a deep valley to the tall, red-brick house up the opposite hillside, which were all still shadow, while those on our side of the valley were all lit up, though with long storage shadows that made them seem unfamiliar, stiff and painted. After that I went into mother’s room and climbed into the big bed. She woke and I began to tell her of my schemes. By this time, though I never seem to have noticed it, I was freezing in my nightshirt, but I warmed up as I talked until the last frost melted. I fell asleep beside her and woke again only when I heard her below in the kitchen, making breakfast. Where was the author’s father during the war
A. He was out on business.
B. He was working in another town.
C. He went traveling.
D. He was fighting in the front.
If sustainable competitive advantage depends on work force skills, American firms have a problem. Human resource management is not traditionally seen as central to the competitive survival of the firm in the United States. Skill acquisition is considered as an individual responsibility. Labor is simply another factor of production to be hired—rented at the lowest possible cost—much as one buys raw materials or equipment. The lack of importance attached to human resource management can be seen in the corporation hierarchy. In an American firm the chief financial officer is almost always second in command. The post of head of human resource managements is usually a specialized job, off at the edge of the corporate hierarchy. The executive who holds it is never consulted on major strategic decisions and has no chance to move up to Chief Executive Officer (CEO). By way of contrast, in Japan the head of human resource management is central—usually the second most important executive, after the CEO, in the firm’s hierarchy. While American firms often talk about the vast amounts spent on training their work forces, in fact they invest less in the skill of their employees than the Japanese or German firms do. The money they do invest is also more highly concentrated on professional and managerial employees. And the limited investments that are made in training workers are also much more narrowly focused on the specific skills necessary to do the next job rather than on the basic background skills that make it possible to absorb new technologies. As a result, problems emerge when new breakthrough technologies arrive. If American workers, for example, take much longer to learn how to operate new flexible manufacturing stations than workers in Germany (as they do), the effective cost of those stations is lower in Germany than it is in the United Stated. More time is required before equipment is up and running at capacity, and the need for extensive retraining generates costs and creates bottlenecks that limit the speed with which new equipment can be employed. The result is a slower pace of technological change. And in the end the skills of the bottom half of the population affect the wages of the top half. If the bottom half can’t effectively staff the processes that have to be operated, the management and professional jobs that go with these processes will disappear. What is the position of the head of human resource management in an American firm
A. He is one of the most important executives in the firm.
B. His post is likely to disappear when new technologies are introduced.
C. He is directly under the chief financial executive.
D. He has no authority in making important decisions in the firm.
The war was the most peaceful period of my life. The window of my bedroom faced southeast. My mother had curtained it, but that had small effect. I always woke up with the first light and, with all the responsibilities of the previous day melted, felt myself rather like the sun, ready to shine and feel joy. Life never seemed so Simple and clear and full of possibilities as then. I stuck my feet out under the sheets-I called them Mrs. Left and Mrs. Right-and invented dramatic situations for them in which they discussed the problems of the day. At least Mrs. Right did; she easily showed her feelings, but I didn’t have the same control of Mrs. Left, so she mostly contented herself with nodding agreement. They discussed what mother and I should do during the day, what Santa Claus should give a fellow for Christmas, and what steps should be taken to brighten the home. There was that little matter of the baby, for instance. Mother and I could never agree about that. Ours was the only house in the neighborhood without a new baby, and mother said we couldn’t afford one till father came back from the war because if cost seventeen and six. That showed how foolish she was. The Geneys up the road had a baby, and everyone knew they couldn’t afford seventeen. and six. It was probably a cheap baby, and mother wanted something really good, but I felt she was too hard to please. The Geneys baby would have done us fine. Having settled my plans for the day, I got up, put a chair under my window, and lifted the frame high enough to stick out my head. The window overlooked the front gardens of the homes behind ours, and beyond these it looked over a deep valley to the tall, red-brick house up the opposite hillside, which were all still shadow, while those on our side of the valley were all lit up, though with long storage shadows that made them seem unfamiliar, stiff and painted. After that I went into mother’s room and climbed into the big bed. She woke and I began to tell her of my schemes. By this time, though I never seem to have noticed it, I was freezing in my nightshirt, but I warmed up as I talked until the last frost melted. I fell asleep beside her and woke again only when I heard her below in the kitchen, making breakfast. In which month did the story probably take place
A. In January.
B. In September.
C. In December.
D. In November.
Hotels were among the earliest facilities that bound the United States together. They were. both creatures and creators of communities, as well as symptoms of the frenetic quest for community. Even in the first part of the nineteenth century, Americans were private, business and pleasure purposed. Conventions were the new occasions, and hotels were distinctively American facilities making conventions possible. The first national convention of a major party to choose a candidate for President (that of the National Republican party, which met on December 12, 1831, and nominated Henry Clay for President) was held in Baltimore, at a hotel that was then reputed to be the best in the country. The presence of Barnum’s City Hotel in Baltimore, a six-story building with two hundred apartments helps explain why many other early national political Conventions were held there. In the longer run, too. American hotels made other national conventions not only possible but pleasant and convivial. The growing custom of regularly assembling from afar the ’representatives of all kinds of groups—not only for political conventions, but also for commercial, professional, learned, and. vocational ones—in turn supported the multiplying hotels. By mid-twentieth century, conventions accounted for over third of the yearly room occupancy of all hotels in the nation, about eighteen thousand different conventions were held annually with a total attendance of about ten million persons. Nineteenth-century American hotelkeepers, who were no longer the genial, deferential "hosts" of the eighteenth-century European inn, became leading citizens. Holding a large stake in the community, they exercised power to make it prosper. As owners or managers of the local "palace of the public", they were makers and shapers of a principal community attraction. Travelers from abroad were mildly shocked by this high social position. It can be inferred from the passage that early hotelkeepers in the United States were______.
A. active politicians
B. European immigrants
C. professional builders
D. influential citizens