This task is about reading the given passage and the question, return an incorrect answer to the given question.

Q: story: CHAPTER XXX 

FERN Mullins rushed into the house on a Saturday morning early in September and shrieked at Carol, "School starts next Tuesday. I've got to have one more spree before I'm arrested. Let's get up a picnic down the lake for this afternoon. Won't you come, Mrs. Kennicott, and the doctor? Cy Bogart wants to go--he's a brat but he's lively." 

"I don't think the doctor can go," sedately. "He said something about having to make a country call this afternoon. But I'd love to." 

"That's dandy! Who can we get?" 

"Mrs. Dyer might be chaperon. She's been so nice. And maybe Dave, if he could get away from the store." 

"How about Erik Valborg? I think he's got lots more style than these town boys. You like him all right, don't you?" 

So the picnic of Carol, Fern, Erik, Cy Bogart, and the Dyers was not only moral but inevitable. 

They drove to the birch grove on the south shore of Lake Minniemashie. Dave Dyer was his most clownish self. He yelped, jigged, wore Carol's hat, dropped an ant down Fern's back, and when they went swimming (the women modestly changing in the car with the side curtains up, the men undressing behind the bushes, constantly repeating, "Gee, hope we don't run into poison ivy"), Dave splashed water on them and dived to clutch his wife's ankle. He infected the others. Erik gave an imitation of the Greek dancers he had seen in vaudeville, and when they sat down to picnic supper spread on a lap-robe on the grass, Cy climbed a tree to throw acorns at them. ', question: 'when?

A: FERN Mullins
****
Q: story: (CNN) -- The 54-year-old Michigan tree trimmer severely beaten after he accidentally struck a child who had stepped into the street earlier this month is breathing on his own, according to his daughter. 

"He is off the ventilator and is able to breathe on his own," Mandi Marie Utash posted Friday to a GoFundMe.com page she and her brother set up for their father, who they say does not have health insurance. 

Steven Utash was set upon by about a dozen people after his truck struck a 10-year-old boy, police said. After Utash stopped his vehicle to help the boy, he was "severely beaten" with "fists and feet," Wayne County Prosecutor Kym Worthy said in a statement. 

Authorities credited a woman who stepped in as Utash was being attacked with saving his life. 

Mandi Marie Utash wrote that her father doesn't seem to know what happened to him or why he was in the hospital, but that he is able to wiggle his toes on command and answer yes or no questions. "These are baby steps," she says. 

She wrote that her father "keeps flashing back to the assault screaming for "HELP" and "PLEASE GET THEM OFF ME." 

"This is a long road ahead," she said. "But the end of the road will be worth it." 

Steven Utash had previously been in a medically induced coma. 

Jennifer Moreno, a police spokeswoman, told CNN that all of the alleged assailants were African-American and that none are known to be related to the boy or his family. She said the beating was "a spontaneous response." Utash is white. ', question: 'Why?

A: tree trimmer
****
Q: story: CHAPTER VIII 

And these two, as I have told you, Were the friends of Hiawatha, Chibiabos, the musician, And the very strong man, Kwasind. --Hiawatha 

Torpenhow was paging the last sheets of some manuscript, while the Nilghai, who had come for chess and remained to talk tactics, was reading through the first part, commenting scornfully the while. 

"It's picturesque enough and it's sketchy," said he; "but as a serious consideration of affairs in Eastern Europe, it's not worth much." 

"It's off my hands at any rate. . . . Thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine slips altogether, aren't there? That should make between eleven and twelve pages of valuable misinformation. Heigh-ho!" Torpenhow shuffled the writing together and hummed-- 

'Young lambs to sell, young lambs to sell, If I'd as much money as I could tell, I never would cry, Young lambs to sell!'" 

Dick entered, self-conscious and a little defiant, but in the best of tempers with all the world. 

"Back at last?" said Torpenhow. 

"More or less. What have you been doing?" 

"Work. Dickie, you behave as though the Bank of England were behind you. Here's Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday gone and you haven't done a line. It's scandalous." 

"The notions come and go, my children--they come and go like our 'baccy," he answered, filling his pipe. "Moreover," he stooped to thrust a spill into the grate, "Apollo does not always stretch his----Oh, confound your clumsy jests, Nilghai!" 

"This is not the place to preach the theory of direct inspiration," said the Nilghai, returning Torpenhow's large and workmanlike bellows to their nail on the wall. "We believe in cobblers" wax. La!--where you sit down." ', question: 'What was she paging

A:
Torpenhow
****
