"But, Rod, I've been waiting to hear what he's found out ever since he went away," Fawzi protested in a hurt tone.
Brangwyn and Colonel Zareff joined them. They were close friends, probably because neither of them was a native of Poictesme.
The town marshal had always been reticent about his origins, but Conn guessed it was Hathor. Brangwyn's heavy-muscled body, and his ease and grace in handling it, marked him as a man of a high-gravity planet. Besides, Hathor had a permanent cloud-envelope, and Tom Brangwyn's skin had turned boiled-lobster red under the dim orange sunlight of Alpha Gartner.
Old Klem Zareff never hesitated to tell anybody where he came from--he was from Ashmodai, one of the System States planets, and he had commanded a division that had been blasted down to about regimental strength, in the Alliance army.
"Hello, boy," he croaked, extending a trembling hand. "Glad you're home. We all missed you."
"We sure did, Conn," the town marshal agreed, clasping Conn's
up his breakfast with her own fair hands, happy for the day if her admired lodger conversed with her for a few moments before reading the morning paper. Then Miss Greeb would retire to her own sitting-room and indulge in day dreams which she well knew would never be realised. The romances she wove herself were even more marvellous than those she read in her favourite penny novelettes; but, unlike the printed tales, her romance never culminated in marriage. Poor brainless, silly, pitiful Miss Greeb; she would have made a good wife and a fond mother, but by some irony of fate she was destined to be neither; and the comedy of her husband-hunting youth was now changing into the lonely tragedy of disappointed spinsterhood. She was one of the world's unknown martyrs, and her fate merits tears rather than laughter.
On the morning after his meeting with Berwin, the young barrister sat at breakfast, with Miss Greeb in anxious attendance. Having poured out his tea, and handed him his paper, and ascertained that
s postman when I grow up.
WATCHMAN. Ha! ha! Postman, indeed! Rain or shine, rich orpoor, from house to house delivering letters--that's very greatwork!
AMAL. That's what I'd like best. What makes you smile so? Oh,yes, your work is great too. When it is silent everywhere in theheat of the noonday, your gong sounds, Dong, dong, dong,-- andsometimes when I wake up at night all of a sudden and find ourlamp blown out, I can hear through the darkness your gong slowlysounding, Dong, dong, dong!
WATCHMAN. There's the village headman! I must be off. If hecatches me gossiping with you there'll be a great to do.
AMAL. The headman? Whereabouts is he?
WATCHMAN. Right down the road there; see that huge palm-leafumbrella hopping along? That's him!
AMAL. I suppose the King's made him our headman here?
WATCHMAN. Made him? Oh, no! A fussy busy-body! He knows somany ways of making himself unpleasant that everybody is afraidof him. It's just a game for the likes of him, making
s because of the flashing fence of bayonets.
Lastly, in a mealie patch, he found the spot on which the corn grows thin, where King Cetewayo breathed his last, poisoned without a doubt, as he has known for many years. It is to be seen at the Kraal, ominously named Jazi or, translated into English, "Finished." The tragedy happened long ago, but even now the quiet-faced Zulu who told the tale, looking about him as he spoke, would not tell it all. "Yes, as a young man, I was there at the time, but I do not remember, I do not know--the Inkoosi Lundanda (i.e. this Chronicler, so named in past years by the Zulus) stands on the very place where the king died--His bed was on the left of the door-hole of the hut," and so forth, but no certain word as to the exact reason of this sudden and violent death or by whom it was caused. The name of that destroyer of a king is for ever hid.
In this story the actual and immediate cause of the declaration of war against the British Power is represented as the appeara
ishment to the luxuriant and deadly deserts of Western Africa, and to the dull and dreary half clearings of South America, it proved itself a charm, a talisman against ennui and despondency. Impossible even to open the pages without a vision starting into view; with out drawing a picture from the pinacothek of the brain; without reviving a host of memories and reminiscences which are not the common property of travellers, however widely they may have travelled. From my dull and commonplace and "respectable" surroundings, the Jinn bore me at once to the land of my pre-direction, Arabia, a region so familiar to my mind that even at first sight, it seemed a reminiscence of some by gone metem-psychic life in the distant Past. Again I stood under the diaphanous skies, in air glorious as aether, whose every breath raises men's spirits like sparkling wine. Once more I saw the evening star hanging like a solitaire from the pure front of the western firmament; and the after glow transfiguring and transforming, as by m
ic and symbolic constraints. Together, these two levels augment Common Lisp with practically all of the functionality of both Prolog and constraint logic programming languages such as CHiP and CLP(R). Furthermore, Screamer is fully integrated with Common Lisp. Screamer programs can coexist and interoperate with other extensions to Common Lisp such as CLOS, CLIM and Iterate.
SPASS
· Web site: spass.mpi-sb.mpg.de
SPASS: An Automated Theorem Prover for First-Order Logic with Equality
If you are interested in first-order logic theorem proving, the formal analysis of software, systems, protocols, formal approaches to AI planning, decision procedures, modal logic theorem proving, SPASS may offer you the right functionality.
ThoughtTreasure
· Web site: www.signiform.com/tt/htm/tt.htm
ThoughtTreasure is a project to create a database of commonsense rules for use in any application. It consists of a database of a little over 100K rules and a C API to integ
English at the Appleton High School, Appleton, Wisconsin, and one of our very ablest members, took the first decisive step by organizing his pupils into an amateur press club, using the =United= to supplement his regular class-room work. The scholars were delighted, and many have acquired a love of good literature which will never leave them. Three or four, in particular, have become prominent in the affairs of the =United=. After demonstrating the success of his innovation, Mr. Moe described it in =The English Journal=, his article arousing much interest in educational circles, and being widely reprinted by other papers. In November, 1914, Mr. Moe addressed an assemblage of English teachers in Chicago, and there created so much enthusiasm for the =United=, that scores of instructors have subsequently joined our ranks, many of them forming school clubs on the model of the original club at Appleton. Here, then, is one definite destiny for our association: to assist the teaching of advanced English in the high
own good it is as important that workmen should not be very much over-paid, as it is that they should not be under-paid. If over-paid, many will work irregularly and tend to become more or less shiftless, extravagant, arid dissipated. It does not do for most men to get rich too fast. The writer's observation, however, would lead him to the conclusion that most men tend to become more instead of less thrifty when they receive the proper increase for an extra hard day's work, as, for example, the percentages of increase referred to above. They live rather better, begin to save money, become more sober, and work more steadily. And this certainly forms one of the strongest reasons for advocating this type of management.
In referring to high wages and low labor cost as fundamental in good management, the writer is most desirous not to be misunderstood.
By high wages he means wages which are high only with relation to the average of the class to which the man belongs and which are paid only to those
ou so desire. But take your spears and go."
She crossed to the little knoll and picked up the spears. She held one out to him, the one that bore the emerald point.
"This," she said, "to remember--Suarra."
"No," he thrust it back. "Go!"
If the others saw that jewel, never, he knew, would he be able to start them on the back trail--if they could find it. Starrett had seen it, of course, but he might be able to convince them that Starrett's story was only a drunken dream.
The girl studied him--a quickened interest in her eyes.
She slipped the bracelets from her arms, held them out to him with the three spears.
"Will you take these--and leave your comrades?" she asked. "Here are gold and gems. They are treasure. They are what you have been seeking. Take them. Take them and go, leaving that man here. Consent--and I will show you a way out of this forbidden land."
Graydon hesitated. The emerald alone was worth a fortune. What loyalty did he owe the three, afte
And God ... divided the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament.... And God said, Let the waters under the heaven be gathered into one place, and let the dry land appear.... And God called the dry land Earth; and the gathering together of the waters called he Seas."
Thus beautifully did the children of men express their earliest idea of the world's distribution of land and water.
And where, on our modern maps, was this little earth, and what was it like? Did trees and flowers cover the land? Did rivers flow into the sea? Listen again to the old tradition that still rings down the ages--
"And the Lord God planted a garden eastward in Eden ... and a river went out of Eden to water the garden; and from thence it was parted, and became four heads. The name of the first is Pison ... and the name of the second river is Gihon; the name of the third river is Hiddekel (Tigris). And the fourth river is Euphrates."
[Illustration: THE GARDEN OF EDE
"But, Rod, I've been waiting to hear what he's found out ever since he went away," Fawzi protested in a hurt tone.
Brangwyn and Colonel Zareff joined them. They were close friends, probably because neither of them was a native of Poictesme.
The town marshal had always been reticent about his origins, but Conn guessed it was Hathor. Brangwyn's heavy-muscled body, and his ease and grace in handling it, marked him as a man of a high-gravity planet. Besides, Hathor had a permanent cloud-envelope, and Tom Brangwyn's skin had turned boiled-lobster red under the dim orange sunlight of Alpha Gartner.
Old Klem Zareff never hesitated to tell anybody where he came from--he was from Ashmodai, one of the System States planets, and he had commanded a division that had been blasted down to about regimental strength, in the Alliance army.
"Hello, boy," he croaked, extending a trembling hand. "Glad you're home. We all missed you."
"We sure did, Conn," the town marshal agreed, clasping Conn's
up his breakfast with her own fair hands, happy for the day if her admired lodger conversed with her for a few moments before reading the morning paper. Then Miss Greeb would retire to her own sitting-room and indulge in day dreams which she well knew would never be realised. The romances she wove herself were even more marvellous than those she read in her favourite penny novelettes; but, unlike the printed tales, her romance never culminated in marriage. Poor brainless, silly, pitiful Miss Greeb; she would have made a good wife and a fond mother, but by some irony of fate she was destined to be neither; and the comedy of her husband-hunting youth was now changing into the lonely tragedy of disappointed spinsterhood. She was one of the world's unknown martyrs, and her fate merits tears rather than laughter.
On the morning after his meeting with Berwin, the young barrister sat at breakfast, with Miss Greeb in anxious attendance. Having poured out his tea, and handed him his paper, and ascertained that
s postman when I grow up.
WATCHMAN. Ha! ha! Postman, indeed! Rain or shine, rich orpoor, from house to house delivering letters--that's very greatwork!
AMAL. That's what I'd like best. What makes you smile so? Oh,yes, your work is great too. When it is silent everywhere in theheat of the noonday, your gong sounds, Dong, dong, dong,-- andsometimes when I wake up at night all of a sudden and find ourlamp blown out, I can hear through the darkness your gong slowlysounding, Dong, dong, dong!
WATCHMAN. There's the village headman! I must be off. If hecatches me gossiping with you there'll be a great to do.
AMAL. The headman? Whereabouts is he?
WATCHMAN. Right down the road there; see that huge palm-leafumbrella hopping along? That's him!
AMAL. I suppose the King's made him our headman here?
WATCHMAN. Made him? Oh, no! A fussy busy-body! He knows somany ways of making himself unpleasant that everybody is afraidof him. It's just a game for the likes of him, making
s because of the flashing fence of bayonets.
Lastly, in a mealie patch, he found the spot on which the corn grows thin, where King Cetewayo breathed his last, poisoned without a doubt, as he has known for many years. It is to be seen at the Kraal, ominously named Jazi or, translated into English, "Finished." The tragedy happened long ago, but even now the quiet-faced Zulu who told the tale, looking about him as he spoke, would not tell it all. "Yes, as a young man, I was there at the time, but I do not remember, I do not know--the Inkoosi Lundanda (i.e. this Chronicler, so named in past years by the Zulus) stands on the very place where the king died--His bed was on the left of the door-hole of the hut," and so forth, but no certain word as to the exact reason of this sudden and violent death or by whom it was caused. The name of that destroyer of a king is for ever hid.
In this story the actual and immediate cause of the declaration of war against the British Power is represented as the appeara
ishment to the luxuriant and deadly deserts of Western Africa, and to the dull and dreary half clearings of South America, it proved itself a charm, a talisman against ennui and despondency. Impossible even to open the pages without a vision starting into view; with out drawing a picture from the pinacothek of the brain; without reviving a host of memories and reminiscences which are not the common property of travellers, however widely they may have travelled. From my dull and commonplace and "respectable" surroundings, the Jinn bore me at once to the land of my pre-direction, Arabia, a region so familiar to my mind that even at first sight, it seemed a reminiscence of some by gone metem-psychic life in the distant Past. Again I stood under the diaphanous skies, in air glorious as aether, whose every breath raises men's spirits like sparkling wine. Once more I saw the evening star hanging like a solitaire from the pure front of the western firmament; and the after glow transfiguring and transforming, as by m
ic and symbolic constraints. Together, these two levels augment Common Lisp with practically all of the functionality of both Prolog and constraint logic programming languages such as CHiP and CLP(R). Furthermore, Screamer is fully integrated with Common Lisp. Screamer programs can coexist and interoperate with other extensions to Common Lisp such as CLOS, CLIM and Iterate.
SPASS
· Web site: spass.mpi-sb.mpg.de
SPASS: An Automated Theorem Prover for First-Order Logic with Equality
If you are interested in first-order logic theorem proving, the formal analysis of software, systems, protocols, formal approaches to AI planning, decision procedures, modal logic theorem proving, SPASS may offer you the right functionality.
ThoughtTreasure
· Web site: www.signiform.com/tt/htm/tt.htm
ThoughtTreasure is a project to create a database of commonsense rules for use in any application. It consists of a database of a little over 100K rules and a C API to integ
English at the Appleton High School, Appleton, Wisconsin, and one of our very ablest members, took the first decisive step by organizing his pupils into an amateur press club, using the =United= to supplement his regular class-room work. The scholars were delighted, and many have acquired a love of good literature which will never leave them. Three or four, in particular, have become prominent in the affairs of the =United=. After demonstrating the success of his innovation, Mr. Moe described it in =The English Journal=, his article arousing much interest in educational circles, and being widely reprinted by other papers. In November, 1914, Mr. Moe addressed an assemblage of English teachers in Chicago, and there created so much enthusiasm for the =United=, that scores of instructors have subsequently joined our ranks, many of them forming school clubs on the model of the original club at Appleton. Here, then, is one definite destiny for our association: to assist the teaching of advanced English in the high
own good it is as important that workmen should not be very much over-paid, as it is that they should not be under-paid. If over-paid, many will work irregularly and tend to become more or less shiftless, extravagant, arid dissipated. It does not do for most men to get rich too fast. The writer's observation, however, would lead him to the conclusion that most men tend to become more instead of less thrifty when they receive the proper increase for an extra hard day's work, as, for example, the percentages of increase referred to above. They live rather better, begin to save money, become more sober, and work more steadily. And this certainly forms one of the strongest reasons for advocating this type of management.
In referring to high wages and low labor cost as fundamental in good management, the writer is most desirous not to be misunderstood.
By high wages he means wages which are high only with relation to the average of the class to which the man belongs and which are paid only to those
ou so desire. But take your spears and go."
She crossed to the little knoll and picked up the spears. She held one out to him, the one that bore the emerald point.
"This," she said, "to remember--Suarra."
"No," he thrust it back. "Go!"
If the others saw that jewel, never, he knew, would he be able to start them on the back trail--if they could find it. Starrett had seen it, of course, but he might be able to convince them that Starrett's story was only a drunken dream.
The girl studied him--a quickened interest in her eyes.
She slipped the bracelets from her arms, held them out to him with the three spears.
"Will you take these--and leave your comrades?" she asked. "Here are gold and gems. They are treasure. They are what you have been seeking. Take them. Take them and go, leaving that man here. Consent--and I will show you a way out of this forbidden land."
Graydon hesitated. The emerald alone was worth a fortune. What loyalty did he owe the three, afte
And God ... divided the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament.... And God said, Let the waters under the heaven be gathered into one place, and let the dry land appear.... And God called the dry land Earth; and the gathering together of the waters called he Seas."
Thus beautifully did the children of men express their earliest idea of the world's distribution of land and water.
And where, on our modern maps, was this little earth, and what was it like? Did trees and flowers cover the land? Did rivers flow into the sea? Listen again to the old tradition that still rings down the ages--
"And the Lord God planted a garden eastward in Eden ... and a river went out of Eden to water the garden; and from thence it was parted, and became four heads. The name of the first is Pison ... and the name of the second river is Gihon; the name of the third river is Hiddekel (Tigris). And the fourth river is Euphrates."
[Illustration: THE GARDEN OF EDE