(Pleas help me I got until tomorrow at 9:00 in the morning) PLEASE HELP A mouse, who always lived on the land, by an unlucky chance, formed a close friendship with a frog, who
lived, for the most part, in the water.
One day, the frog wanted to cause trouble. He tied the foot of the mouse tightly to his own. Thus joined
together, the frog led his friend the mouse to the meadow where they usually searched for food After this, he
gradually led him towards the pond in which he lived, until reaching the banks of the water, he suddenly jumped
in, dragging the mouse with him.
The frog enjoyed the water amazingly, and swam croaking about, as if he had done a good deed. The
unhappy mouse was soon sputtered and drowned in the water, and his poor dead body floating about on the
surface. Whawk observed the floating mouse from the sky, and dove down and grabbed it with his talons, carrying
it back to his nest. The frog, being still fastened to the leg of the mouse, was also carried off a prisoner, and was
eaten by the hawk.
1. What do you learn in the exposition or introduction of the
story? The mice and fogs don't mix as fogs
2. What events are included in the rising action of the story? What
events lead to the conflict?
3. What is the climax (the peak) of the story?
4. What events are included in the falling action of the story?
5.What is the resolution of the story?

What evidence in the excerpt supports schwartz claim? select three options

How does the dialogue between henry and his friends? “californians tale”

Select the contred text in the passage which sentence in this excerpt from john galsworthy's narrative essay "gone" reflects his view that there is no afterlife? an old woman and mrs. herd's sister were in the sitting-room, they showed us to the crazy, narrow stairway. though we lived distant but four hundred yards of a crows flight, we had never seen mrs. herd before, for that is the way of things in this land of minding one's own business a slight dark girlish-looking woman, almost quite refined away, and with those eyes of the dying, where the spirit is coming through, as it only does when it knows that al is over except just the passing. she lay in a double bed with clean white sheets. a white-washed room, so low that the ceiling almost touched our heads, some flowers in a bow, the small lattice window open. though it was hot in there, it was better far than the rooms of most families in towns, living on a wage of twice as much, for here was no sign of defeat in decency or cleanliness. in her face, as in poor herd's, was that same strange minging of resigned despair and almost eager appeal, so terrible to disappoint. yet, trying not to disappoint it, one felt guilty of treachery: what was the good, the kindness in making this poor bird flutter still with hope against the bars, when fast prison had so surely closed in round her? but what else could we do? we could not give her those glib assurances that naive souls make so easily to others concerning their after state. and the night was so beautiful, so utterly glamourously beautiful, with its star-flowers, and its silence and its trees clothed in moonlight. all was tranquil as a dream of sleep. but it was long before our hearts wandering with poor herd, would let us remember that she had slipped away into so beautiful a dream