We waited for half an hour, watching the smoke curling over the house, and then, judging that the Indians had made off for fear of being ambushed, we crossed the clearing. It took but a glance to read the story. The women had been washing by the little brook before the cabin, with the children playing about them, when the Indians had come up and with a single volley killed them all except the child we had heard crying. They had swooped down upon their victims, torn the scalps from their heads, looted the house, and set fire to it. We dragged out the body of the woman which had been thrown within, in the hope that a spark of life might yet remain, but she was quite dead. Beneath the warrior Spiltdorph had shot we found the child. It was a boy of some six or seven years, and so covered with blood that it seemed it must be dead. But we stripped it and washed it in the brook, and found no wounds upon it except in the head, where it had been struck with a hatchet before its scalp had been stripped off. The cold water brought it back to life and it began to cry again, whereat Spiltdorph took off his coat and wrapped it tenderly about it.
What question would one ask from this paragraph?
Answer: Who washed in the brook?

To say her face fell would do a disservice to Tasha and to literature. (Allow me my self-indulgences as you would those of a dying man -- when I convince my mindsmith to permit the wipe, there will be another Bernardo Flynn, one who knows no more of Tasha Cortez or Vega IV than he reads here.) Her brows drew together, creasing the lovely, caramel-colored skin around her eyes and showing the pattern for an old woman's wrinkles on her forehead. Her lower lip (a trifle too narrow for her face, perhaps her only physical flaw) thrust forward slightly as she started to speak. She caught herself, slid her jaw infinitesimally back into place, and said, "You don't like it?" I laughed. What could I do? I clapped her shoulder to show I was not laughing at her. "Like it? I hate it, despise it, abhor it! It's gaudy, graceless, pretentious -- That house is an affront to taste and intelligence. I should buy it to raze it, but I am not so kind-hearted. I might, however, rent it." I think she only heard the last words of my speech. "You will?" "It amuses me. Show me around, and then I shall decide." "Of course, Senor Flynn." "And stop calling me 'senor'. Not even Los Mundos is so polite. Call me Bernardo."
What question would one ask from this paragraph?
Answer: What does Bernardo need to do before he can decide whether to rent the house?

You might want to know how cold it is. You may need to know how fast the wind is blowing. Maybe it rained last night? Do you know how much? Does it feel humid to you? You have heard all these questions before. To answer these questions, we need data. That data comes from special tools. These tools collect data about the weather. You can see some of the common tools listed below: A thermometer measures temperature. An anemometer measures wind speed. A rain gauge measures the amount of rain. A hygrometer measures humidity. A wind vane shows wind direction. A snow gauge measures the amount of snow.
What question would one ask from this paragraph?
Answer: How is weather measured?

MALS was formed here more than 30 years ago. Today, 14 staff attorneys, 26 office workers and 21 University of Memphis third- year law students work out of rented offices in the old Claridge Hotel building at 109 N. Main. Offices are spartan. There are no lush rugs or stylish furniture. The large table in the conference room is simple varnished wood. Offices are small and mostly plain, except for the eclectic mix of pop art, African statuary and neon that adorns litigation director Webb Brewer's space. Brewer, who has been at the agency 20 years, said there is a need for lawyers of all stripes to help with the problems of the poor. "The private bar could meet more of the need through pro bono work, but there are still cases that involve the systemic problems for low-income people that we would need to do," said Brewer. "The legal system marketplace just doesn't serve low-income people too well, except in fee-generat-ing type cases," Brewer said. "If a poor person gets run over by a bus, an attorney might take that case because they might be able to recover part of the damage award as attorney fees. But so many of the cases we handle have to do with basic rights and a decent life. There is just no profit motive." Larry Pivnick, law professor at the University of Memphis Law School and director of political programs at MALS, said Legal Services is a great learning laboratory for law students. "There are thousands and thousands of people who have problems that never get an opportunity to appear in court," Pivnick said. "Some people may not be particularly articulate. Courts have rules that clients don't always understand." Brewer said a major focus of the agency's work involves housing. "Although a lot of our work is grant-driven, we find that the lack of safe and decent affordable housing and the prevalence of predatory lending are the biggest problems in our client population," Brewer said, referring to clients such as James.
What question would one ask from this paragraph?
Answer:
Who is Larry Pivnick?