Answer:
a. Fortunato likes the Montresor family motto.
Explanation:
Edgar Allen Poe's "The Cask of Amontillado" is a short story that is about a revenge attack of a friend against his friend. Montresor had been silently taking in a lot of insults from his friend Fortunato, when he decided it is time to pay back. The short duration of the story tells how he deceived his friend into complying with his plan of revenge.
The given excerpt shows Montresor guiding Fortunato into his family's vaults on the pretext of taking his (Fortunato's) opinion about a wine that he had acquired. Fortunato did not seem to have any ill feeling for his friend's family arms, for he asked about the arms' motto and even exclaimed that the motto <em>"Nemo me impune lacessit"</em> was good. His manner of exclaiming<em> "Good!"</em> with and exclamation mark means that he seems to have no negative thought about it.
You can find it from the internet
The evidence that best supports the inference that Napoleon is falsely accusing Snowball of destroying the windmill are as follows:
• Option A: The animals were shocked beyond measure to learn that even Snowball could be guilty of such an action.
• Option C: Almost immediately the footprints of a pig were discovered in the grass.
• Option E: Napoleon snuffed deeply at them and pronounced them to be Snowball's.
The correct options can be better understood as mentioned below:
• The book being talked about is Animal Farm, written by George Orwell, in which the animals of a farm rebel against humans.
• Napoleon and Snowball were two pigs who wanted to be the leader. Napoleon would do anything to remove Snowball from the farm and therefore, he was quick to give the judgment against Snowball to get him removed from the farm forever.
Learn more about Animal Farm here:
brainly.com/question/13562952
Bounce back, cast back (sorry if it needs to be one word)
Answer:One summer we found
a dead baby shark
washed up on the beach,
cut it open with a dinner knife
from the house,
and performed an
outdoor autopsy.1
As we marveled
at its
miniature anatomy,
reveled
in the smallness
of each little organ,
seagulls circled overhead.
The ocean was quiet,
barely making waves.
It kept vigil
for its tiny causality.
The spring prior,
an alligator wandered
onto the beach during my
uncle’s second wedding.
It was far enough away
to merit an absence of fear, but
nobody took photos or said
a word— we just stared
as it settled itself in the surf,
hoping to be cleansed.
