Input: My father was named James Page Jackson because he was born on the old Jackson plantation in Lancaster county, Virginia. He named one of his daughters Lancaster for a middle name in memory of his old home. Clarice Lancaster Jackson was her full name. A man named Galloway bought my father and brought him to Arkansas. Some called him by the name of Galloway, but my father always had all his children keep the name Jackson. There were fourteen of us, but only ten lived to grow up. He belonged to Mr. Galloway at the time of my birth, but even at that, I did not take the name Galloway as it would seem like I should. My father was a good carpenter; he was a fine cook, too; learned that back in Virginia. I'll tell you something interesting. The first cook stove ever brought to this town was one my father had his master to bring. He was cook at the Anthony House. You know about that, don't you? It was the first real fine hotel in Little Rock. When father went there to be head cook, all they had to cook on was big fireplaces and the big old Dutch ovens. Father just kept on telling about the stoves they had in Virginia, and at last they sent and got him one; it had to come by boat and took a long time. My father was proud that he was the one who set the first table ever spread in the Anthony House.
"Why did some people call James Page Jackson Galloway?" is "That was his name"?
Output: no
Input: Miss Anderson dined out, and preferred to suppose that she had no time to think until she was on her way home along the empty road round Jakko at eleven o'clock that night. Then it pleased her to get out of her rickshaw and walk. There was an opulent moon, the vast hills curving down to the plains were all grey and silvery, and the deodars overhead fretted the road with dramatic shadows. About her hung the great stillness in a mighty loneliness in which little Simla is set, and it freed her from what had happened, so that she could look at it and cry out. She actually did speak, pausing in the little pavilion on the road where the nursemaids gather in the daytime, but very low, so that her words fell round her even in that silence, and hardly a deodar was aware. 'I will not go now,' she said. 'I will stay and realize that he is another woman's husband. That should cure me if anything will--to see him surrounded by the commonplaces of married life, that kind of married life. I will stay till she comes and a fortnight after. Besides, I want to see her--I want to see how far she comes short.' She was silent for a moment, and the moonlight played upon her smile of quiet triumph. 'He cares too,' she said; 'he cares too, but he doesn't know it, and I promise you one thing, Madeline Anderson, you won't help him to find out. And in five weeks I will go away and leave my love where I found it--on a mountaintop in the middle of Asia!'
"What type of moon was visible at eleven o'clock?" is "There was an opulent moon"?
Output: yes
Input: Imagine a glass of your favorite drink that never became empty. Now think about what really happens. You take a drink and there is less in the glass. You keep drinking and soon it is all gone. Good thing you have more to refill your glass. What if there would never be any more of your favorite drink. What would you do? Now you know the difference between renewable and non-renewable. Its too bad that many things here on Earth will run out. This includes some of our natural resources we depend on. Things like oil will not last forever. There is a limited supply. Someday, we will run out, so then what? At current rates of use, coal will last about 300 years. Petroleum will be used up in just a few decades.
"How would a glass of your favorite drink never become empty?" is "Keep refilling it"?
Output:
no