Billy had a pet turtle that he took good care of, everyday. His turtle's name was Tumble. Tumble liked to walk around outside in the garden and dig small holes to sleep in. Billy loved Tumble and would visit him outside when he got home from school. Tumble's favorite food was oatmeal. So, every day after school, Billy would make Tumble a big bowl of oatmeal and take it outside for Tumble to enjoy. Tumble would see Billy and walk up to him as fast as a turtle can go. Billy would put the bowl down and wait for Tumble to come up to the bowl to eat from it. When Tumble reached the bowl, he put his nose on it. But, the oatmeal was too hot to eat. Billy reached down and blew on the hot oatmeal, to cool it down for Tumble to eat. Once the oatmeal was cool enough, Tumble could dig in and eat his big bowl of oatmeal. Billy loved to watch as Tumble ate his bowl of oatmeal, because Billy took good care of Tumble, everyday.
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QUESTION: What kind of pet did Billy have and what was its name?

When 74-year-old Penny Sweat was evicted from the HUD-subsidized Glendale Senior Housing in Salt Lake City last month, she moved to a nonsubsidized apartment at five times her previous rent because she was unaware of her rights. It turns out the manager of the seniors complex, its attorneys and government overseers were unaware, too. Lee Kemp, a hearing-impaired World War II disabled vet, also was evicted, but he contacted Utah Legal Services and was told to stay put. Attorney Marty Blaustein then notified Utah Nonprofit Housing Corp., the building's owner, that Kemp's eviction was not legal and that he had a right to a hearing. That didn't stop Utah Nonprofit Housing's attorneys from then sending Kemp a summons to show cause why he had not moved out. Meanwhile, Sweat's granddaughter called Salt Lake City housing officials, federal housing officials, state officials and several agents of Utah Nonprofit Housing to find out about her grandmother's rights. Nobody knew. Blaustein then took Sweat's case along with Kemp's and demanded her ousting be rectified. Utah Nonprofit Housing President Marion Willey returned from an out-of-town trip and learned HUD procedures were not followed. The eviction was activated because of ongoing personality conflicts among seniors in the complex, he said, and the new building manager decided the problems were with Sweat and Kemp. Several tenants blame other neighbors as perpetrators of the rift, however. Willey said when his building manager called attorneys retained by the company, they erroneously told her she could go ahead and kick out the tenants. When she called HUD to make sure, the inquiry got bogged down in bureaucracy and nobody called her back. Willey says he has offered Sweat and Kemp apartments in another complex operated by his company at their old rates. He also is retaining new attorneys.
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QUESTION: Who was unaware of the tenants rights?

A married couple and their three young adult children , a son and two daughters , live in a large compound with a garden and a swimming pool . A tall fence surrounds the property and the children have never been on the other side of it , for their parents have kept them unaware of the outside world , even of the existence of the telephone . They are taught different meanings for everyday words . For example , they are told that a '' zombie '' is '' a small yellow flower , '' and that '' sea '' is a chair . The parents promise that each child will be ready to venture outside the compound once she or he has lost a dogtooth . Although the children are told they have a brother just on the other side of the barrier , he never appears . The only non-family member to come into the house is Christina , a young woman who works as a security guard at the father's factory . She is driven by the father to the compound traveling both ways blindfolded where she performs sexual favors for the son . Dissatisfied with his preference for intercourse , Christina seeks oral sex from the elder daughter in exchange for a headband. The elder daughter obliges but does not recognize the significance of performing cunnilingus . Later , she gives the headband to her younger sister , in exchange for being licked on the shoulder , Which is marked by an unexplained scar . The parents have tricked the children into believing that overhead planes are merely toys . They allow the children to search for toy planes that they have planted on the grounds , and the child that finds the toy owns it .
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QUESTION: Which siblings does Christina have sexual encounters with?

Life for the partners of Cates, Katalinic & Lund holds little of the glamour one might expect from a career in law. Instead of lunches at Lutce, they caucus at the Palace Diner in Queens. Wooing clients means passing out fliers on street corners, not securing box seats at Madison Square Garden. To make ends meet, one partner stacks pipe and cleans the yard at a plumbing warehouse. Another handles urine samples in a hospital lab. A sign of failure, of a feeble economy, perhaps? Hardly. They are heeding the call of a growing pool of law schools, which are for the first time pointing graduates in a new direction and teaching them how to get there. Forget the lure of large firms, the security of a government post. Here is how to grapple "in the service of justice," as many of the schools put it, instead. Convinced that corporate largess and government programs barely dent the nation's legal needs, the law schools are urging graduates to buck tradition, pass up big salaries and ignore mushrooming student debt to join tiny neighborhood practices or simply start their own, all with an eye toward charging no more than their clients can afford. This is not pro bono legal work; it is "low bono," a term the schools coined to define the atypical kind of law career they are training students for. While its practitioners do charge for their services, they are also dead set on turning no one away - or at least as few as possible. "When you go into this kind of social justice law, it's really brutal and you're almost guaranteed to struggle for a couple of years before there's a light at the end of the tunnel," said Fred Rooney, director of the Community Legal Resource Network at City University of New York School of Law, from which the lawyers of the newly formed Cates, Katalinic & Lund graduated last May. "But if our graduates don't do it, the millions of people who cannot access justice in this country will continue to soar." The movement, primly called the consortium, started four years ago by CUNY, Northeastern University, the University of Maryland and St. Mary's Law School in Texas. (St. Mary's later dropped out.) Since then, it has drawn seven additional law schools to its ranks: the University of Michigan, Rutgers and Syracuse Law Schools, New York Law School, University of New Mexico School of Law, Thomas M. Cooley Law School and Touro Law School. It has elicited at least initial interest from 19 more.
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QUESTION:
Who made this statement: "But if our graduates don't do it, the millions of people who cannot access justice in this country will continue to soar."