Answer:
A. to show that cleaning the room will be a huge task.
Explanation:
We do not know what poem this is referring to, but this poet uses a simile or metaphor. This is a type of figurative language and is not meant to be "taken literally." This rules out options C and D because there is not an <em>actual</em> elephant.
While B could still be an answer, the narrator could have cleaned up their room once before without it feeling like a big task. Since they chose to compare it to an elephant specifically, we can guess that the answer will be "A. to show that cleaning the room will be a huge task."
Kingly, kind, known, keen, knowledgeable those are the only things i can think of
hopefully this helps
Answer:
Explanation:
More than 99 percent of all organisms that have ever lived on Earth are extinct. As new species evolve to fit ever changing ecological niches, older species fade away. But the rate of extinction is far from constant. At least a handful of times in the last 500 million years, 75 to more than 90 percent of all species on Earth have disappeared in a geological blink of an eye in catastrophes we call mass extinctions.
Though mass extinctions are deadly events, they open up the planet for new forms of life to emerge. The most studied mass extinction, which marked the boundary between the Cretaceous and Paleogene periods about 66 million years ago, killed off the nonavian dinosaurs and made room for mammals and birds to rapidly diversify and evolve.
Answer:At approximately 4:40 p.m. on Saturday, March 25, 1911, as the workday was ending, a fire flared up in a scrap bin under one of the cutter's tables at the northeast corner of the 8th floor.[13] The first fire alarm was sent at 4:45 p.m. by a passerby on Washington Place who saw smoke coming from the 8th floor.[14] Both owners of the factory were in attendance and had invited their children to the factory on that afternoon.[15] The Fire Marshal concluded that the likely cause of the fire was the disposal of an unextinguished match or cigarette butt in the scrap bin, which held two months' worth of accumulated cuttings by the time of the fire.[16] Beneath the table in the wooden bin were hundreds of pounds of scraps left over from the several thousand shirtwaists that had been cut at that table. The scraps piled up from the last time the bin was emptied, coupled with the hanging fabrics that surrounded it; the steel trim was the only thing that was not highly flammable.[13] Although smoking was banned in the factory, cutters were known to sneak cigarettes, exhaling the smoke through their lapels to avoid detection.[17] A New York Times article suggested that the fire may have been started by the engines running the sewing machines. A series of articles in Collier's noted a pattern of arson among certain sectors of the garment industry whenever their particular product fell out of fashion or had excess inventory in order to collect insurance. The Insurance Monitor, a leading industry journal, observed that shirtwaists had recently fallen out of fashion, and that insurance for manufacturers of them was "fairly saturated with moral hazard." Although Blanck and Harris were known for having had four previous suspicious fires at their companies, arson was not suspected in this case.[15]The building's south side, with windows marked X from which 50 women jumped62 people jumped or fell from windowsA bookkeeper on the 8th floor was able to warn employees on the 10th floor via telephone, but there was no audible alarm and no way to contact staff on the 9th floor.[18] According to survivor Yetta Lubitz, the first warning of the fire on the 9th floor arrived at the same time as the fire itself.[19] Although the floor had a number of exits, including two freight elevators, a fire escape, and stairways down to Greene Street and Washington Place, flames prevented workers from descending the Greene Street stairway, and the door to the Washington Place stairway was locked to prevent theft by the workers; the locked doors allowed managers to check the women's purses.[20] The foreman who held the stairway door key had already escaped by another route.[21] Dozens of employees escaped the fire by going up the Greene Street stairway to the roof. Other survivors were able to jam themselves into the elevators while they continued to operate.[22]Within three minutes, the Greene Street stairway became unusable in both directions.[23] Terrified employees crowded onto the single exterior fire escape – which city officials had allowed Asch to erect instead of the required third staircase[13] – a flimsy and poorly anchored iron structure that may have been broken before the fire. It soon twisted and collapsed from the heat and overload, spilling about 20 victims nearly 100 feet (30 m) to their deaths on the concrete pavement below. The remainder waited until smoke and fire overcame them.The fire department arrived quickly but was unable to stop the flames, as their ladders were only long enough to reach as high as the 7th floor.[1] The fallen bodies and falling victims also made it difficult for the fire department to approach the building.Elevator operators Joseph Zito[24] and Gaspar Mortillaro saved many lives by traveling three times up to the 9th floor for passengers, but Mortillaro was eventually forced to give up when the rails of his elevator buckled under the heat. Some victims pried the elevator doors open and jumped into the empty shaft, trying to slide down the cables or to land on top of the car. The weight and impacts of these bodies warped the elevator car and made it impossible for Zito to make another attempt. William Gunn Shepard, a reporter at the tragedy, would say that "I learned a new sound that day, a sound more horrible than description can picture – the thud of a speeding living body on a stone sidewalk".[25]A large crowd of bystanders gathered on the street, witnessing 62 people jumping or falling to their deaths from the burning building.[26] Louis Waldman, later a New York Socialist state assemblyman, described the scene years later:[27]One Saturday afternoon in March of that year—March 25, to be precise—I was sitting at one of the reading tables in the old Astor Library. … It was a raw, unpleasant day and the comfortable reading room seemed a delightful place to spend the remaining few hours until the library closed.
Explanation:
