Problem: Allan crouched over his desk once more, pen in hand and mind blank. He contemplated a story, an outline he had laboriously constructed some time ago. He had filled his pen and raised it, the nib descending towards the paper, before the sound came: the gentle, persistent tapping of the gnarled, primeval willow touching the window with long, insistent fingers. His eyes awoke with a passionate, determined flame, though the only light came from the glutted moon. Allan filled page after page, the words escaping from his mind onto the paper. Where before they had marched in regiments, practiced in ranks and followed their leaders' commands, the words now escaped in their true forms, unhindered by any stricture. He continued long into the night, until the eldritch orb had sunk into the waiting hands of the willow, raised perpetually skyward. Arthur looked up from the results of a night's frenzied labors and looked Allan in the eye. "What is this?" he queried, indicating the pages he held in his left hand. "I decided that since I wasn't having much success with more traditional stories, I might see what sort of work I produced if I let my imagination go freely," Allan replied, somewhat less self-assured than he had been the previous night. "What in G-d's name could have possessed you to do such a thing," cried Arthur, nearly raising his voice. "After all I said the day before, why have you abandoned centuries of literary progress for some self-indulgent fantasy?" He shook the papers at Allan, raising them like a belt above the head of a disobedient son. "This is nothing but a glorified Grimm's tale, a miscarried child of Stoker, a creation less fit to be published than to be told around an open fire at the hovel of some peasant!" He spoke the last word with such heavy intonation that Allan shrank back before the physical wave of sound emanating from Arthur's throat. "Do you hate the modern system of literature? Do you personally despise the works the Enlightenment or the progress made since Shakespeare?" For a moment, Allan could hardly do more than shake his head. "No, of course not I " "Then why," Arthur barreled on, "do you disregard them all and return to this superstitious babble, this morbid, paganistic drivel?

Question: "How many authors' surnames did Arthur mention?"

Answer: "Fewer than 5"
Answer: yes

Problem: Flowing water causes sediment to move. Flowing water can erode both rocks and soil. You have already learned that materials can dissolve in water. With enough time, even rocks can be dissolved by water. This process happens really slowly. It may take over a million years to dissolve a rock. It doesnt matter how big the rock is. With enough time, flowing water can dissolve it. Moving water also has the ability to move small pieces of rock and soil. How can water move a rock? Doesnt it need energy? Of course, water gets its energy because it is moving. Moving water has kinetic energy. Things that have more energy can do more work. When water stops moving it will have no energy. It will no longer be able to move the rock and soil. When this happens the rock and soil will settle to the bottom of the calm water. Scientists call this process deposition.

Question: "Does water have kinetic energy?"

Answer: "Moving water has kinetic energy"
Answer: yes

Problem: Jack and Mackenzie wanted to do something fun during their day off from school. They knew that the library had story time on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. Their mother told them they could go to the library every Tuesday for their story time. They packed up the car and drove to the library, ready for a fun morning. When they arrived to the story room, there were lots of other children their age, all sitting cross-legged and ready for the story of the day. The teacher told them they would be reading "The Wild Horse". She began to tell the story of Majestic, the wild horse who could not be calmed. His people had tried and tried to break him, but he was wild at heart. Every time they took him to the river to drink, he would run straight into the water and get soaking wet! He would splash and play until he was ready to go back home, where he would sleep for hours, having worn himself out playing.

Question: "How did Jack and Mackenzie get to the library?"

Answer: "Their mother took them"
Answer:
yes