This is the story of a young girl and her dog. The young girl and her dog set out a trip into the woods one day. Upon entering the woods the girl and her dog found that the woods were dark and cold. The girl was a little scared and was thinking of turning back, but yet they went on. The girl's dog was acting very interested in what was in the bushes up ahead. To both the girl and the dog's surprise, there was a small brown bear resting in the bushes. The bear was not surprised and did not seem at all interested in the girl and her dog. The bear looked up at the girl and it was almost as if he was smiling at her. He then rested his head on his bear paws and went back to sleep. The girl and the dog kept walking and finally made it out of the woods. To this day the girl does not know why the bear was so friendly and to this day she has never told anyone about the meeting with the bear in the woods.
What question would one ask from this paragraph?

QUESTION: Has the girl or her companion told anyone about meeting the bear?

If you build a campfire, you start with a large stack of sticks and logs. As the fire burns, the stack slowly shrinks. By the end of the evening, all that is left is a small pile of ashes. What happened to the matter that you started with? Was it destroyed by the flames? It may seem that way. What do you think happened? The truth is that the same amount of matter still exists. The wood changed not only to ashes, but also to carbon dioxide, water vapor, and other gases. The gases floated off into the air, leaving behind just the ashes. Although matter was changed, it was not created or destroyed. Because the same amount of matter still exists, we can say that matter is conserved. You may wonder how it can be conserved if something is now missing? Assume you had measured the mass of the wood before you burned it. Assume you had also trapped the gases released by the burning wood and measured their mass and the mass of the ashes. What would you find? The ashes and gases combined have the same mass as the wood you started with. This example illustrates the law of conservation of mass.
What question would one ask from this paragraph?

QUESTION: Once a stack of sticks and logs is burnt what matter remains?

Late on the next Sunday afternoon Gifford had gone for a country walk which he had arranged to bring him round in time for the evening service at the little village church of Wynford standing just outside the park boundary. His way took him by well-remembered field-paths which, although towards the end of his walk darkness had set in, he had no difficulty in tracing. The last field he crossed brought him to a by-road joining the highway which ran through Wynford, the junction being about a quarter of a mile from the church. As he neared the stile which admitted to the road he saw, on the other side of the hedge and showing just above it, the head of a man. At the sound of his footsteps the man quickly turned, and, as for a moment the fitful moonlight caught his face, Gifford was sure he recognized Gervase Henshaw. But he took no notice and kept on his way to the stile, which he crossed and gained the road. As he did so he glanced back. A horse and trap was waiting there with Henshaw in it. He was now bending down, probably with the object of concealing his identity, and had moved on a few paces farther down the road.
What question would one ask from this paragraph?

QUESTION: Who was walking and what animal did he see?

My father was named James Page Jackson because he was born on the old Jackson plantation in Lancaster county, Virginia. He named one of his daughters Lancaster for a middle name in memory of his old home. Clarice Lancaster Jackson was her full name. A man named Galloway bought my father and brought him to Arkansas. Some called him by the name of Galloway, but my father always had all his children keep the name Jackson. There were fourteen of us, but only ten lived to grow up. He belonged to Mr. Galloway at the time of my birth, but even at that, I did not take the name Galloway as it would seem like I should. My father was a good carpenter; he was a fine cook, too; learned that back in Virginia. I'll tell you something interesting. The first cook stove ever brought to this town was one my father had his master to bring. He was cook at the Anthony House. You know about that, don't you? It was the first real fine hotel in Little Rock. When father went there to be head cook, all they had to cook on was big fireplaces and the big old Dutch ovens. Father just kept on telling about the stoves they had in Virginia, and at last they sent and got him one; it had to come by boat and took a long time. My father was proud that he was the one who set the first table ever spread in the Anthony House.
What question would one ask from this paragraph?

QUESTION:
What was the first real fine hotel in Little Rock?