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My uncle and I sat on the beach, squishing the warm sand between our toes. The sea shells we had collected glittered like jewels under the sun. On the wooden dock, patient fishers leaned against the weathered railing and waited. My uncle and I watched as a sailboat knifed swiftly through the crystal-blue water, the waves pounding against her wooden hull.
My uncle and I sat on the beach, squishing the warm sand between our toes. The sea shells we had collected glittered like jewels under the sun. On the wooden dock, patient fishers leaned against the weathered railing and waited. My uncle and I watched as a sailboat knifed swiftly through the crystal-blue water, the waves pounding against her wooden hull.
My uncle and I sat on the beach, squishing the warm sand between our toes. The sea shells we had collected glittered like jewels under the sun. On the wooden dock, patient fishers leaned against the weathered railing and waited. My uncle and I watched as a sailboat knifed swiftly through the crystal-blue water, the waves pounding against her wooden hull.
My uncle and I sat on the beach, squishing the warm sand between our toes. The sea shells we had collected glittered like jewels under the sun. On the wooden dock, patient fishers leaned against the weathered railing and waited. My uncle and I watched as a sailboat knifed swiftly through the crystal-blue water, the waves pounding against her wooden hull.
My uncle and I sat on the beach, squishing the warm sand between our toes. The sea shells we had collected glittered like jewels under the sun. On the wooden dock, patient fishers leaned against the weathered railing and waited. My uncle and I watched as a sailboat knifed swiftly through the crystal-blue water, the waves pounding against her wooden hull.
My uncle and I sat on the beach, squishing the warm sand between our toes. The sea shells we had collected glittered like jewels under the sun. On the wooden dock, patient fishers leaned against the weathered railing and waited. My uncle and I watched as a sailboat knifed swiftly through the crystal-blue water, the waves pounding against her wooden hull.
Mood is the feeling a reader gets when reading a description. The mood can be happy, scared, excited, or sorrowful, to name a few. Writers choose their words carefully to create any mood they want.
How do you feel after reading the following passage?
Lightning forked across the stormy sky as Will crept out from the safety of his house and into the night. His nervous eyes scanned the shadowy darkness and came to rest on the dilapidated shed in the backyard. A low, angry growl rumbled from the shed. His hands slick with sweat, Will grabbed the shed door and pulled. The rusty hinges moaned in protest.
Tone is how the writing sounds. It is the attitude a writer expresses in a piece of writing. The tone should also be appropriate for the purpose and the audience.
What is the tone of the following passage?
Marco Polo was born in Venice, Italy, in 1254. When Marco was only six years old, his father and uncle traveled to China and became friends with Emperor Kublai Khan. His father’s travels had a great influence on Marco. He was already highly educated and spoke several languages. When his father and uncle asked Marco to accompany them to China, Marco was ready.