Based on the details in the excerpt, what is its primary purpose? the crab that played with the sea

Read the excerpt from act 1, scene 3, of julius caesar. cassius. am i not stayed for? tell me. cinna. yes, you are. o cassius, if you could but win the noble brutus to our party— cassius. be you content. good cinna, take this paper and look you lay it in the praetor’s chair, where brutus may but find it. and throw this in at his window. set this up with wax upon old brutus’ statue. all this done, repair to pompey’s porch, where you shall find us. is decius brutus and trebonius there? cinna. all but metellus cimber, and he’s gone to seek you at your house. well, i will hie, and so bestow these papers as you bade me. cassius. that done, repair to pompey’s theatre. what is cassius’s motivation for sending brutus the letter? cassius wants to make sure that cinna is on his side. cassius wants to reassure cinna that brutus will follow them. cassius wants to sway brutus to kill caesar. cassius wants to alert brutus about the conspiracy against him.

Which line in this excerpt from the great gatsby by f. scott fitzgerald contains a simile? about half way between west egg and new york the motor-road hastily joins the railroad and runs beside it for a quarter of a mile, so as to shrink away from a certain desolate area of land. this is a valley of ashes—a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and finally, with a transcendent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air. occasionally a line of grey cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-grey men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud which screens their obscure operations from your sight.

What theme is the main theme of this excerpt from the metal pig by hans christian andersen? in the garden of the grand duke's palace under the roof of one of the wings were a thousand roses bloom in winter, a little ragged boy had been sitting the whole day long. the boy might serve as a type of italy lovely and smiling and yet suffering. he was hungry and thirsty but no one gave him anything and when it became dark and they were about to close the gardens, the porter turned him out. a long time he stood musing on the bridge which crosses the arno and looking at the glittering stars that were reflected in the water which flowed between him and the wonderful marble bridge trinita. he then walked away towards the metal pig, half note down, clasped it with his arms, and, putting his mouth to the shining snout, drink deep droughts of the fresh water. close-by lay a few salad leaves into chestnuts, which register for his supper. no one was in the street but himself. it belonged only to him. he boldly seated himself on the pig's back, leaned forward so that his curly head could rest on the head of the animal, and, before he was aware, fell asleep. it was midnight. the metal pig raised himself gently, and the boy heard him say quite distinctly, hold tight little boy, for i am going to run, and way he started for most wonderful ride first they arrived at the p as the del granduca and the metal horse which bears the dukes statue made allowed