QUES: 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?
Do you have any questions?
MY QUESTION: What did Arthur ask Allan?

QUES: Porky is looking all over the big city for a hotel room , but due to a convention there are no vacancies . Porky takes the only available vacancy at one hotel , but will have to share with Daffy Duck , who is a very loud , obnoxious and annoying sort . Daffy introduces his invisible kangaroo friend '' Hymie '' , but Porky wo n't believe that . Daffy spends the rest of the night annoying Porky : pestering him with questions , shaking the bed , spilling water from a glass , hogging the blanket and finally literally sending the both of them flying off the bed when Daffy kicks , and startles , Porky with his literally frozen feet . Fed up with his antics , Porky stuffs Daffy in a pillow case and drops him out of the window . As Porky goes back to bed , Daffy returns bandaged , but shakes them off and prepares to get revenge . Daffy tricks the half-asleep pig into stepping out of a window thinking he 's boarding a train . Daffy hides the window saying it 's '' too gruesome '' to watch . Suddenly he hears train noises , and behind the shade , sees the still-drowsy Porky pulling away on an actual train and waving at Daffy . Daffy finds this silly . Then he bounces all around the room , '' Hoo-Hoo ! '' - ing wildly .
Do you have any questions?
MY QUESTION: Why is Porky having some difficulty with getting a room?

QUES: Elettra stuck the little slip of paper, on which the recipe was written, into her shabby pocket-book without looking at it. She could read and write fairly well, and had been used to helping her husband the under-steward with his accounts at Muro, but even if she had looked at the recipe she would have understood nothing of the doctor's hieroglyphics and abbreviated Latin words. The prescription was for a preparation of arsenic, which Matilde had formerly taken for some time. The chemist would not make any difficulty about preparing twenty doses of it for the Countess Macomer, though the whole quantity of arsenic contained in so many would probably be sufficient to kill one not accustomed to the medicine, if taken all at once. But though Matilde was so anxious to have the stuff before luncheon, she had a number of doses of it put away in a drawer, which she took out and counted, after Elettra had gone. She opened one of the little folded papers and looked at the fine white powder it contained, took a little on the end of her finger and tasted it. Then, from the same drawer, she took a package done up in coarser paper, and opened it likewise, looked at it, smelt it, and touched it with the tip of her tongue very cautiously indeed. It was white, too, but coarser than the medicine. She was very careful in tasting it, and she immediately rinsed her mouth with water, before she tied up the package again, shut the drawer, and put the key into her pocket.
Do you have any questions?
MY QUESTION: What is the recipe for?

QUES: Is this an insect or an animal? A snail is an animal just like you and me. Thats right, you too are an animal. No, you don't look like a snail. You do have some things in common. Animals can be divided into many groups. These groups are decided based on their characteristics. All animals have some basic features in common. That does not mean they are the same. They also have many differences. For example, snails are mollusks and not insects. Mollusks have a unique set of features. Notice the large foot that allows it to move. Yes, it only has one foot. Did you notice the long antennas on its head? This is where the snail's eyes are. They are on the end of the antenna. They are not on its head like most animals. The foot and eyes are unique features. Scientists use these features to place animals into groups.
Do you have any questions?
MY QUESTION:
Where are the snails eyes?