Article: The First Hello The man from the telephone department got off the bus, and made his way to the tea stall, wiping the sweat off his head, face, then slipping his handkerchief under his shirt to wipe his neck and back. It was a year ago that the phone line had been installed, six months later men from the public works department had come to put up the phone booth -- a neat box-like structure, with a glass window, and wooden ledges, yellow in colour. And days after that, a painter had taken an entire day to colour in broad, black brushstrokes, the words: STD Booth, local and STD allowded. No one could tell that the last word had been misspelled. Besides, he had taken the entire day. After he had a cup of tea, he had left, waving cheerfully. And now months later, someone else was here again. Everyone watched the man as he sat on the bench. No one said a word, and soon the sound of him slurping his tea filled the hot afternoon. A few leaves fell, heavy in the heat, and sometimes a car passed, on its way to the main city farther away. When the man had finished, he made to pay but the tea shop owner who sat behind his steaming kettle and the washed upturned cups, waved him away. "You are our guest here." So the man took his handkerchief out again and wiped his face. They crowded around him as he shut himself up in the phone booth. When the children pressed their nose against the glass, he shooed them away, as he took out a shiny black instrument and placed it on the narrow shelf. A sigh of satisfaction passed through everyone that soon changed to an excited yell as they saw him dial a number, pressing a finger into the ringed dialer of the phone and letting it go all the way in a half-circle. A while later, they hear him say into the mouthpiece, "Hello." "Hello, " the children around the booth took up the cry, the teashop owner broke into a smile and the men waiting for a bus smiled and said hello to each other. The sadhu who sat under the banyan tree nodded wisely. As the sound carried, more hellos were heard.... Question: In the story, fitting a working telephone booth _ . Yes or no, is the answer "was a process that had already taken 12 months"?
No

(Question)
Article: Cameron thought of himself as merely organized. He certainly did not consider that he took great pains over anything, he did just enough to get it right. Exactly right, of course, for as he was fond of telling his staff, "if it's not exactly right, it's wrong". Occasionally a worker might be sad on hearing these words, because it meant another hour or so of going over the same bit of work, correcting the mistakes which Cameron had patiently pointed out. And doing the corrections exactly right of course. Strangely enough, his department had the reputation for performing the highest quality work in the company, and it was seen, and not only by those who worked in the department, as a sort of elite unit. Those programmes that had to work first time, straight out of the box, Cameron's men got those. "It's mission critical--give it to Cameron" was almost a catch-phrase with his team. It helped that Cameron was not merely particular about things. He wanted things done just so, not because of a personal taste, but because he had discovered through patient experimentation that this was the best way for it to be done. In Cameron's dictionary, "Take as long as you want" meant that you could work on your task not just in office hours, but that evening, and late into the early hours of the following morning if you so desired. But the project had to be in by its completion date, and yes, done exactly right. Or you did it again. But he would always be regarded, and not least by himself, as someone who had failed to meet requirements, one of those _ . You had to face it, if you were not working for Cameron, you were second best. So when word got out that Cameron had messed up, big time, the news was greeted with a mixture of sympathy, and entire relief that this perfection too was human. Question: Working for Cameron, people felt that _ . Yes or no, is the answer "they were part of an elite"?
(Answer)
No

Ques:Article: Dae Jon is the city in South Korea, where I was born and grew up. There was a public park there. It was a very popular place, and I have tons of precious memories from times spent there. Our teachers often took us to that park for a spring or fall picnic. When I learned martial arts --Tae Kwon Do, my master usually took us there to train us. There was a hill there which was not high, so I could reach the peak within forty minutes even though I was very young. From the peak, I could see a lot of places if it was a sunny day. There was a huge rock on the top called Eagle Rock because the shape of the rock looked like the head of an eagle. We spent lots of fun days there. We played hide-and-seek within the limited area, and we sometimes caught frogs and fish in the pond. When we felt thirsty, we enjoyed drinking cold spring water. When I was a ten-year-old boy, I usually went to the park with my father to exercise early in the morning. It was quite dark, so I sometimes felt afraid, but after I got used to going there, I enjoyed breathing the fresh air and hearing the birds sing. Recently, I went back to the park to remember my good times there. When I arrived at the entrance, I was surprised because it didn't seem to be the same as I remembered it. Everything has changed in the thirteen years since I last saw it, but the good memories soon came back. I could almost imagine a boy playing there with a slight smile and shaking hands with me. Question: How long has the writer not been there? Yes or no, is the answer "13 years."?

Ans:
No