Which idea would best fit at the beginning of a personal narrative? a. i decided to try a little harder to keep my side of the room neat and started putting my dirty clothes in a plastic bin under my bed. b. my brother decided to stop complaining all the time, and he stopped bugging me whenever i left something out by mistake. c. my brother and i get along much better now, and our parents are so glad we stopped arguing. d. my brother and i share a bedroom, and we argue all the time because he’s neat and i’m messy.

Look at the following merriam-webster online dictionary entry for the word cleave: cleave verb \klev transitive verb 1. to divide by or as if by a cutting blow : split 2: to separate into distinct parts and especially into groups having divergent views 3: to subject to chemical cleavage, a protein cleaved by an enzyme intransitive verb 1: to adhere firmly and closely or loyally and unwaveringly which definition is most likely intended in the following sentence? the axe was made of a metal strong enough to cleave even the strongest marble. o a. transitive definition 3 o b. intransitive definition 1 o c. transitive definition 1 o d. transitive definition 2

The caption is an example of which kind of bias? "cute baby boars snuffle for food in the undergrowth"

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