Read the following context and choose the correct option to answer the question. Context: November always dragged around the station, but today was one dead Sunday. Not one car pulled off the interstate all morning. Nothing hit the drive but a thin steady rain, puddling slow rainbows in the oil. Me and Harnie just tilted back our chairs against the cigarette rack, watched the monster movie, and waited for the game to start. The big flying turtle was about set to barbeque downtown Tokyo when the drive bell rang, and up sluiced a car so damn gorgeous it hurt to look at it. A '37 Buick Roadmaster it was, painted a red so rich it was nearly black, that straight eight engine whispering like a lover while teardrops of rain rolled down the chrome grill. Out climbed this tall fellow, dressed like God's grandpa done up for a wedding or a funeral. His skin was brown as a buckwheat cake, with creases deep as drainage ditches. Took a mighty long stretch of sweat and toil, love and birth and dying, to carve a face like that. He flexed his shoulders, then rolled his neck till it cracked. He pulled a pack of Camel straights from inside his vest and flipped one out. "Got a light?" His voice was deep and warm, half gravel, half honey. I tossed him a pack of matches through the open door; he caught it left-handed, then flipped it open, folded over a match, and struck it with his thumb. "This the town with the dead fiddler?" he said after a long drag on the smoke. "You might say so," I said, ignoring the look Harnie gave me. Nobody talked about her; I wondered how this fellow had even heard about her. "Ain't a fiddle, though. It's a cello, like in the symphony." The stranger shrugged. "Close enough." "She ain't d-dead, neither," Harnie said. "M-more sleeping, like." He puffed out a wreath of smoke. Then another. "Let's go wake her up," he said. "You best not try, mister," I said. "She been sleeping for thirty some year." Question: What is probably true about the stranger? Options: A. he is poor B. he is wealthy C. not enough information D. he is a doctor
B

Read the following context and choose the correct option to answer the question. Context: My Pa disappeared somewhere in the wilds of 1975, when I was just fourteen years old. He was the Ambassador to 1975, but back home in 1898, in New Jerusalem, Utah, they all thought he was Ambassador to France. When he disappeared, Mama and I came back through the triple-bolted door that led from our apt in 1975 to our horsebarn in 1898. We returned to the dusty streets of New Jerusalem, and I had to keep on reminding myself that I was supposed to have been in France, and 'polly-voo' for my chums, and tell whoppers about the Eiffel Tower and the fancy bread and the snails and frogs we'd eaten. I was born in New Jerusalem, and raised there till I was ten. Then, one summer's day, my Pa sat me on his knee and told me we'd be going away for a while, that he had a new job. 'But what about the store?' I said, scandalised. My Pa's wonderful store, the only General Store in town not run by the Saints, was my second home. I'd spent my whole life crawling and then walking on the dusty wooden floors, checking stock and unpacking crates with waybills from exotic places like Salt Lake City and even San Francisco. Pa looked uncomfortable. 'Mr Johnstone is buying it.' My mouth dropped. James H Johnstone was as dandified a city-slicker as you'd ever hope to meet. He'd blown into town on the weekly Zephyr Speedball, and skinny Tommy Benson had hauled his three huge steamer trunks to the cowboy hotel. He'd tipped Tommy two dollars, in Wells-Fargo notes, and later, in the empty lot behind the smithy, all the kids in New Jerusalem had gathered 'round Tommy to goggle at the small fortune in queer, never-seen bills. 'Pa, no!' I said, without thinking. I knew that if my chums ordered their fathers around like that, they'd get a whipping, but my Pa almost never whipped me. Question: People in Utah all believed Pa is an Ambassador for Options: A. not enough information B. China C. Germany D. France
D

(Question)
Read the following context and choose the correct option to answer the question. Context: Last month we spent a few wonderful days visiting our friends Rosa and Massimo who live just outside of Trento. It was our third visit to the area (on one of them I snapped up this recipe for persimmon cake), so I feel it's about time to share some our favourite things that we've been shown by locals. Trento is only a four hour drive from Florence passing Bologna and Verona on the way, which could make very good pit stops if you feel the need to, FYI yet it feels a world away in terms of the landscape and the food, from the golden, rolling hills of Tuscany. Cue towering mountains harbouring mushrooms and berries, lush valleys and turquoise lakes, vines grown on pergolas, enormous plates of sauerkraut and polenta in abundant portions, delicious wines and rustic cakes with German names. Trento is the capital of Trentino, an unusual region of Italy because its official languages are Italian and German and it is actually made up of two self-governing provinces and is known as Trentino-Alto Adige or Trentino-Sudtirol. Confused? Since the eighth century, it has been part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and only a century ago did it become Italian. It is squeezed between Lombardy and the Veneto to the west and southeast and to the north lies Austria and Switzerland. So it is no surprise that many of the food influences come from its neighbours particularly the northern ones. Eating in the region means eating heartily, even in the summer sunshine, we enjoyed abundant portions of canederli (large rustic dumplings made of bread, herbs and meat, ham or cheese in broth), masses of soft, creamy polenta with thinly sliced roast pork or sausage ragu and slow-cooked beans or thick venison steaks, sauerkraut and gnocchi (sometimes made of out of polenta). I think one waiter was highly disappointed that we weren't able to finish our gargantuan plates one hot day on a mountain with a view of the Dolomites. Somehow there was always room for dessert, though adopted from German and Austrian specialties, you can find cakes... Question: Why is the waiter disappointed at the author and her friends? Options: A. They weren't able to finish their gargantuan plates B. not enough information C. They didn't have room for dessert D. They ordered too much food
(Answer)
A