CHAPTER VII.
LIKE A BAD PENNY.
'For shame, Glory!' exclaimed De Witt when he had recovered from his surprise but not from his dismay. 'How could you do such a wicked and unwomanly act?'
'For shame, George!' answered Mehalah, gasping for breath. 'You stood by all the while, and listened whilst that jay snapped and screamed at me, and tormented me to madness, without interposing a word.'
'I am angry. Your behaviour has been that of a savage!' pursued George, thoroughly roused. 'I love you, Glory, you know I do. But this is beyond endurance.'
'If you are not prepared, or willing to right me, I must defend myself,' said Mehalah; 'and I will do it. I bore as long as I could bear, expecting every moment that you would silence her, and speak out, and say, "Glory is mine, and I will not allow her to be affronted."  I could not see, I could not think. I did not know, till all was over, what I had done. George! I know I am rough and violent, when these rages come over me, I am not to be trifled with.'
'I hope they never may come over you when you have to do with me,' said De Witt sulkily.
'I hope not, George. Do not trifle with me, do not provoke me. I have the gipsy in me, but under control. All at once the old nature bursts loose, and then I do I know not what. I cannot waste my energy in words like some, and I cannot contend with such a girl as that with the tongue.'
'What will folks say of this?'
'I do not care. They may talk. But now, George, let me warn you. That girl has been trifling with you, and you have been too blind and foolish to see her game and keep her at arm's length.'
'You are jealous because I speak to another girl besides you.'
'No, I am not. I am not one to harbour jealousy. Whom I trust I trust with my whole heart. Whom I believe I believe with my entire soul. I know you too well to be jealous. I know as well that you could not be false to me in thought or in act as I know my truth to you. I cannot doubt you, for had I thought it possible that you would give me occasion to doubt, I could not have loved you.'
'Sheer off!' exclaimed George, looking over his shoulder. 'Here comes the old woman.'

'What is all this? By jaggers! where is Phoebe Musset? What have you done with her? Where have you put her? What were those screams about?'
'Sheer off while you may,' whispered De Witt; 'the old woman is not to be faced when wexed no more than a hurricane. Strike sail, and run before the wind.'
'What have you done with the young woman? Where is she? Produce the corpse. I heard her as she shruck out.'
'She insulted me,' said Mehalah, still agitated by passion, 'and I flung her overboard.'
Mrs. De Witt rushed to the bulwarks, and saw the dripping damsel being carried—she could not walk—from the Strand to her father's house.
'You chucked her overboard!' exclaimed the old woman, and she caught up a swabbing-mop. 'How dare you?
'I will teach you to play the dog-fish among my herrings, to turn this blessed peaceful "Pandora" into a cage of bears!' cried Mrs. De Witt, charging with her mop.
Mehalah struck the weapon down, and put her foot on it.
'Take care!' she exclaimed, her voice trembling with passion. 'In another moment you will have raised the devil in me again.'
'He don't take much raising,' vociferated Mrs. De Witt. 'I will teach you to assault a genteel young female who comes a wisiting of me and my son in our own wessel. Do you think you are already mistress here? Does the "Pandora" belong to you? Am I to be chucked overboard along with every lass that wexes you? Am I of no account any more in the eyes of my son, that I suckled from my maternal bottle, and fed with egg and pap out of my own spoon?'
'For heaven's sake,' interrupted George, 'sheer off, Mehalah. Mother is the dearest old lady in the world when she is sober. She is a Pacific Ocean when not vexed with storms. She will pacify presently.'
'I will go, George,' said Mehalah, panting with anger, her veins swollen, her eye sparkling, and her lip quivering; 'I will go, and I will never set foot in this boat again, till you and your mother have asked my pardon for this conduct; she for this outrage, you for having allowed me to receive insult, white-livered coward that you are.'
She flung herself down the ladder, and waded ashore.
Mrs. De Witt's temper abated as speedily as it rose. She retired to her grog. She set feet downwards on the scene; the last of her stalwart form to disappear was the glowing countenance set in white rays.
George was left to his own reflections. He saw Mehalah get into her boat and row away. He waved his cap to her, but she did not return the salute. She was offended grievously. George was placed in a difficult situation. The girl to whom he was betrothed was angry, and had declared her determination not to tread the planks of the 'Pandora' again, and the girl who had made advances to him, and whom his mother would have favoured, had been ejected unceremoniously from it, and perhaps injured, at all events irretrievably offended.
It was incumbent on him to go to the house of the Mussets and enquire for Phoebe. He could do no less; so he descended the ladder and took his way thither.
Phoebe was not hurt, she was only frightened. She had been wet through, and was at once put to bed. She cried a great deal, and old Musset vowed he would take out a summons against the aggressor. Mrs. Musset wept in sympathy with her daughter, and then fell on De Witt for having permitted the assault to take place unopposed.
'How could I interfere?' he asked, desperate with his difficulties. 'It was up and over with her before I was aware.'
'My girl is not accustomed to associate with cannibals,' said Mrs. Musset, drawing herself out like a telescope.
As George returned much crestfallen to the beach, now deserted, for the night had come on, he was accosted by Elijah Rebow.
'George!' said the owner of Red Hall, laying a hand on his cousin's shoulder, 'you ought not to be here.'
'Where ought I to be, Elijah? It seems to me that I have been everywhere to-day where I ought not to be. I am left in a hopeless muddle.'
'You ought not to allow Glory to part from you in anger.'
'How can I help it? I am sorry enough for the quarrel, but you must allow her conduct was trying to the temper.'
'She had great provocation.  She has a temper, has Mehalah, that does not stick at trifles; but she is generous and forgiving.'
'She is so angry with me that I doubt I shall not be able to bring her back to good humour.'
'I doubt so, too, unless you go the right way to work with her; and that is not what you are doing now.'
'Why, what ought I to do, Elijah?'
'Do you want to break with her, George? Do you want to be off with Glory and on with milk-face?'
'No, I do not.'
'You are set on Glory still? You will cleave to her till naught but death shall you part, eh?'
'Naught else.'
'George! That other girl has good looks and money. Give up Mehalah, and hitch on to Phoebe. I know your mother will be best pleased if you do, and it will suit your interests well. Glory has not a penny, Phoebe has her pockets lined. Take my word for it you can have milk-face for the asking, and now is your opportunity for breaking with Glory if you have a mind to do so.'
'But I have not, Elijah.'
'What can Glory be to you, or you to Glory? She with her great heart, her stubborn will, her strong soul, and you—you—bah!'
'Elijah, say what you like, but I will hold to Glory till death us do part.'
'Your hand on it. You swear that.'
'Yes, I do.  See how passionate she is, she blazes up in a moment, and then she is one to shiver you if you offend her. No, she needs a man of other stamp than you to manage her.'
'She shall be mine,' said George: 'I want no other.'
'This is your fixed resolve?'
'My fixed resolve.'
'For better for worse?'
'For better for worse, till death us do part.'
'Till death you do part,' Elijah jerked out a laugh.  You are unfit for Glory, you do not now, you never will, understand her.'
'What do you mean?'
'You let the girl row away, offended, angry, eating out her heart, and you show no sign that you desire reconciliation.'
'I have though. I waved my hat to her, but she took no notice.'
'Waved your hat!' repeated Rebow, with suppressed scorn. 'You never will read that girl's heart, and understand her moods.  If she were mine——' he stamped and clenched his fists.
'But she is not going to be yours, Elijah,' said George with a careless laugh.
'No, of course not,' said Elijah, joining in the laugh. 'She is yours till death you do part.'
'Tell me, what have I done wrong?' asked De Witt.
'There—you come to me, after all, to interpret the writing for you. It is there, written in letters of fire, Mene, mene, tekel, Upharsin! Thou art weighed in the balance and found wanting, and this night shall thy kingdom be taken from thee and given to——'
'Elijah, I do not understand this language. What ought I to do to regain Mehalah's favour?'
'You must go after her. Do you not feel it in every fibre, that you must, you mud-blood? Go after her at once.  Her wrong will grow into a mountain in her heart unless it be rooted up to-night. Her pride will flame up as her passion dies away, and she will not let you speak to her another tender word.  The little crack will split into a wide chasm. I heard her call you a white-livered coward.'
'She did; you need not repeat it. She will be sorry when she is cool.'
'That is just it, George. As soon as passion abates, her generous heart will turn to self-reproach, and she will be angry with herself for what she has done.  She will be vexed with herself, ashamed of herself, unable in the twilight of her temper to excuse herself. Perhaps she is now in tears. But this mood will not last. To-morrow her pride will have returned in strength, she will think over her wrongs and harden herself in stubbornness; she will know that the world condemns her, and she will retire into herself in defiance of the world. Look up at the sky. Do you see, there is Charles' Wain, and there is Cassiopæa's Chair. There the Serpent and there the Swan. I can see every figure plain, but your landsman rarely can. So I can see every constellation in the dark heaven of Mehalah's soul, but you cannot. You would be wrecked if you were to sail by it. Now, George, take Glory while she is between two moods, or lose her for ever. Go after her at once, George, ask her forgiveness, blame yourself and your mother, blame that figure-head miss, and she will forgive you frankly, at once. She will fall on your neck and ask your pardon for what she has done.'
'I believe you are right,' said De Witt, musing.
'I know I am. As I have been working in my forge, I have watched the flame on the hearth dance and waver to the clinking of the hammer. There was something in the flame, I know not what, which made it wince or flare, as the blows fell hard or soft. So there are things in Nature respond to each other without your knowing why it is, and in what their sympathy consists. So I know all that passes in Mehalah's mind. I feel my own soul dance and taper to her pulses. If you had not been a fool, George, you would already have been after her. What are you staying for now?'
'My mother; what will she say?'
'Do you care for her more than for Glory? If you think of her now, you lose Glory for ever. Once more I ask you, do you waver? Are you inclined to forsake Mehalah for milk-face?'
'I am not,' said De Witt impatiently; 'why do you go on with this?  An hour hence the Ray house will be closed, and the girl and her mother in bed.'
'I will get my boat and row thither at once.'
'You need not do that. I have my boat here, jump in. We will each take an oar, and I will land you on the Ray.'
'You take a great interest in my affairs.'
'I take a very great interest in them,' said Rebow dryly.
'Lead the way, then.'
'Follow me.'
Rebow walked forward, over the shingle towards his boat, then suddenly turned, and asked in a suppressed voice, 'Do you know whither you are going?'
'To the Ray.'
'To the Ray, of course. Is there anyone on the Hard?'
'Not a soul. Had I not better go to my mother before I start and say that I am going with you?'
'On no account. She will not allow you to go to the Ray. You know she will not.'
De Witt was not disposed to dispute this.
'You are sure,' asked Rebow again, 'that there is no one on the Hard. No one sees you enter my boat.  No one sees whither we go.'
'Not a soul.'
'Then here goes!' Elijah Rebow thrust the boat out till she floated, sprang in and took his oar. De Witt was already oar in hand on his seat.
'The red curtain is over the window at the Leather Bottle,' said George. 'No signalling to-night, the schooner is in the offing.'
'A red signal. It may mean more than you understand.'
They rowed on.
'Is there a hand on that crimson pane,' asked Rebow in a low tone, 'with the fingers dipped in fire, writing?'
'Not that I can see.'
'Nor do you see the writing, Mene, mene, tekel, Upharsin.'
'You jest, Elijah!'
'A strange jest. Perhaps the writing is in the vulgar tongue, thou art weighed and found wanting, feeble fool, and thy kingdom is taken from thee, and given to ME.'
Mehalah sat by the hearth, on the floor, in the farmhouse at the Ray. Her mother was abed and asleep. The girl had cast aside the cap and thrown off her jersey. Her bare arms were folded on her lap; and the last flicker of the red embers fell on her exposed and heaving bosom.
Elijah Rebow on the Hard at Mersea had read accurately the workings and transitions in the girl's heart. Precisely that was taking place which he had described. The tempest of passion had roared by, and now a tide of self-reproach rose and overflowed her soul. She was aware that she had acted wrongly, that without adequate cause she had given way to an outburst of blind fury. Phoebe was altogether too worthless a creature for her jealousy, too weak to have been subjected to such treatment. Her anger against George had expired. He did well to be indignant with her. It was true he had not rebuked Phoebe nor restrained his mother, but the reason was clear. He was too forbearing with women to offend them, however frivolous and intemperate they might be. He had relied on the greatness of his Glory's heart to stand above and disregard these petty storms.
She had thrown off her boots and stockings, and sat with her bare feet on the hearth. The feet moved nervously in rhythm to her thoughts. She could not keep them still. Her trouble was great. Tears were not on her cheeks; in this alone was Elijah mistaken. Her dark eyes were fixed dreamily on the dying fire—they were like the marsh-pools with the will-o'-the-wisp in each. They did not see the embers, they looked through the iron fireback, and the brick wall, over the saltings, over the water, into infinity.
She loved George. Her love for him was the one absorbing passion of her life. She loved her mother, but no one else—only her and George. She had no one else to love. She was without relations. She had been brought up without playfellows on that almost inaccessible islet, only occasionally visiting Mersea, and then only for an hour. She had seen and known nothing of the world save the world of morass. She had mixed with no life, save the life of the flocks on the Ray, of the fishes and the seabirds. Her mind hungered for something more than the little space of the Ray could supply. Her soul had wings and sought to spread them and soar away, whither, however, she did not know. She had a dim prevision of something better than the sordid round of common cares which made up the life she knew.
With a heart large and full of generous impulses, she had spent her girlhood without a recognition of its powers. She felt that there was a voice within which talked in a tongue other from that which struck her ears each day, but what that language was, and what the meaning of that voice, she did not know. She had met with De Witt. Indeed they had known each other, so far as meeting at rare intervals went, for many years; she had not seen enough of him to know him as he really was, she therefore loved him as she idealised him. The great cretaceous sea was full of dissolved silex penetrating the waters, seeking to condense and solidify. But there was nothing in the ocean then save twigs of weed and chips of shells, and about them that hardest of all elements drew together and grew to adamant. The soul of Mehalah was some such vague sea full of ununderstood, unestimated elements, seeking their several centres for precipitation, and for want of better, condensing about straws. To her, George De Witt was the ideal of all that was true and manly. She was noble herself, and her ideal was the perfection of nobility. She was rude indeed, and the image of her worship was rough hewn, but still with the outline and carriage of a hero. She could not, she would not, suppose that George De Witt was less great than her fancy pictured.
The thought of life with him filled her with exultation. She could leap up, like the whooper swan, spread her silver wings, and shout her song of rapture and of defiance, like a trumpet. He would open to her the gates into that mysterious world into which she now only peeped, he would solve for her the perplexities of her troubled soul, he would lead her to the light which would illumine her eager mind.
Nevertheless she was ready to wait patiently the realisation of her dream. She was in no hurry. She knew that she could not live in the same house or boat with George's mother. She could not leave her own ailing mother, wholly dependent on herself. Mehalah contentedly tarried for what the future would unfold, with that steady confidence in the future that youth so generally enjoys.
The last embers went out, and all was dark within. No sound was audible, save the ticking of the clock, and the sigh of the wind about the eaves and in the thorntrees. Mehalah did not stir. She dreamed on with her eyes open, still gazing into space, but now with no marsh fires in the dark orbs. The grey night sky and the stars looked in at the window at her.
Suddenly, as she thus sat, an inexpressible distress came over her, a feeling as though George were in danger, and were crying to her for help. She raised herself on the floor, and drew her feet under her, and leaning her chin on her fingers listened. The wind moaned under the door; everything else was hushed.
Her fear came over her like an ague fit. She wiped, her forehead, there were cold drops beading it. She turned faint at heart; her pulse stood still. Her soul seemed straining, drawn as by invisible attraction, and agonised because the gross body restrained it. She felt assured that she was wanted. She must not remain there. She sprang to her feet and sped to the door, unbolted it and went forth. The sky was cloudless, thick strewn with stars. Jupiter glowed over Mersea Isle. A red gleam was visible, far away at the 'City.' It shone from the tavern window, a coloured star set in ebony. She went within again. The fire was out. Perhaps this was the vulgar cause of the strange sensation. She must shake it off. She went to her room and threw herself on the bed. Again, as though an icy wave washed over her, lying on a frozen shore, came that awful fear, and then, again, that tension of her soul to be free, to fly somewhere, away from the Ray, but whither she could not tell.
Where was George? Was he at home? Was he safe? She tried in vain to comfort herself with the thought that he ran no danger, that he was protected by her talisman. She felt that without an answer to these questions she could not rest, that her night would be a fever dream.
She hastily drew on her jersey and boots; she slipped out of the house, unloosed her punt, and shot over the water to Mersea. The fleet was silent, but as she flew into the open channel she could hear the distant throb of oars on rowlocks, away in the dark, out seaward. She heard the screech of an owl about the stacks of a farm near the waterside. She caught as she sped past the Leather Bottle muffled catches of the nautical songs trolled by the topers within.
She met no boat, she saw no one. She ran her punt on the beach and walked to the 'Pandora,' now far above the water. The ladder was still down; therefore George was not within. 'Who goes there?' asked the voice of Mrs. De Witt. 'Is that you, George? Are you coming home at last? Where have you been all this while?'
Mehalah drew back. George was not only not there, but his mother knew not where he was.
The cool air and the exercise had in the mean time dissipated Mehalah's fear. She argued with herself that George was in the tavern, behind the red curtain, remaining away from his mother's abusive tongue as long as he might. His boat lay on the Hard. She saw it, with the oars in it. He was therefore not on the water; he was on land, and on land he was safe. He wore the medal about his neck, against his heart.
How glad and thankful she was that she had given him the precious charm that guarded from all danger save drowning.
She rowed back to the Ray, more easy in her mind, and anchored her punt. She returned cautiously over the saltings, picking her way by the starlight, leaping or avoiding the runnels and pools, now devoid of water, but deep in mud most adhesive and unfathomable.
She felt a little uneasy lest her mother should have awoke during her absence, and missed her daughter. She entered the house softly; the door was without a lock, and merely hasped, and stole to her mother's room. The old woman was wrapt in sleep, and breathing peacefully.
Mehalah drew off her boots, and seated herself again by the hearth. She was not sleepy. She would reason with herself, and account for the sensation that had affected her.
Hark! she heard some one speak. She listened attentively with a flutter at her heart. It was her mother. She stole back on tiptoe to her. The old woman was dreaming, and talking in her sleep. She had her hands out of bed together and parted them, and waved them, 'No, Mehalah, no! Not George! not George!' she gave emphasis with her hand, then suddenly grasped her daughter's wrist, 'But Elijah!' Next moment her grasp relaxed, and she slept calmly, apparently dreamlessly again.
Mehalah went back.
It was strange. No sooner was she in her place by the hearth again than the same distress came over her. It was as though a black cloud had swept over her sky and blotted out every light, so that neither sun, nor moon, nor star appeared, as though she were left drifting without a rudder and without a compass in an unknown sea, under murky night with only the phosphorescent flash of the waves about, not illumining the way but intensifying its horror. It was as though she found herself suddenly in some vault, in utter, rayless blackness, knowing neither how she came there nor whether there was a way out.
Oppressed by this horror, she lifted her eyes to the window, to see a star, to see a little light of any sort. What she there saw turned her to stone.
At the window, obscuring the star's rays, was the black figure of a man. She could not see the face, she saw only the shape of the head, and arms, and hands spread out against the panes. The figure stood looking in and at her.
Her eyes filmed over, and her head swam.
She heard the casement struck, and the tear of the lead and tinkle of broken glass on the brick floor, and then something fell at her feet with a metallic click.
When she recovered herself, the figure was gone, but the wind piped and blew chill through the rent lattice.
How many minutes passed before she recovered herself sufficiently to rise and light a candle she never knew, nor did it matter. When she had obtained a light she stooped with it, and groped upon the floor.
* * * * * *
Mrs. Sharland was awakened by a piercing scream.
She sprang from her bed and rushed into the adjoining room. There stood Mehalah, in the light of the broken candle lying melting and flaring on the floor, her hair fallen about her shoulders, her face the hue of death, her lips bloodless, her eyes distended with terror, gazing on the medal of Paracelsus, which she held in her hand, the sea-water dripping from the wet riband wound about her fingers.
'Mother! Mother! He is drowned. I have seen him. He came and returned me this.'
Then she fell senseless on the floor, with the medal held to her heart.
CHAPTER VIII.
WHERE IS HE?
If there had been excitement on the Hard at Mersea on the preceding day when the schooner anchored off it, there was more this morning. The war-vessel had departed no one knew whither, and nobody cared.  The fishermen were getting their boats afloat, and all appliances ready for making harvest of that fish which is most delicious when fresh from the water, most flat when out of it a few hours.
Down the side of the 'Pandora' tumbled Mrs. De Witt, her nose sharper than usual, but her cap more flabby. She wore a soldier's jacket, bought second-hand at Colchester. Her face was of a warm complexion, tinctured with rum and wrath. She charged into the midst of the fishermen, asking in a loud imperative tone for her son.
To think that after the lesson delivered him last week, the boy should have played truant again! The world was coming to a pretty pass. The last trumpet might sound for aught Mrs. De Witt cared, and involve mankind in ruin, for mankind was past 'worriting' about.
George had defied her, and the nautical population of the 'City' had aided and abetted him in his revolt.
'This is what comes of galiwanting,' said Mrs. De Witt; 'first he galiwants Mehalah, and then Phoebe. No good ever came of it. I'd pass a law, were I king, against it, but that smuggling in love would go on as free under it as smuggling in spirits. Young folks now-a-days is grown that wexing and wicious—— Where is my George?' suddenly laying hold of Jim Morell.
The old sailor jumped as if he had been caught by a revenue officer.
'Bless my life, Mistress! You did give me a turn.  A pinch of snuff?'
'I want my George,' said the excited mother. 'Where is he skulking to?'
'How should I know?' asked Morell, 'he is big enough to look after himself.'
'He is among you,' said Mrs. De Witt; 'I know you have had him along with a party of you at the Leather Bottle yonder. You men get together, and goad the young on into rebellion against their parents.'
'I know nothing about George. I have not even seen him.'
'I've knitted his guernseys and patched his breeches these twenty years, and now he turns about and deserts me.'
'Tom!' shouted Morell to a young fisherman, 'have you seen George De Witt this morning?'
'No, I have not, Jim.'
'Oh, you young fellows!' exclaimed the old lady, loosing her hold on the elder sailor, and charging among and scattering the young boatmen. 'Where is my boy? What have you done with him that he did not come home last night, and is nowhere wisible?'
'He went to the Mussets' last evening, Mistress. We have not set eyes on him since.'
'Oh! he went there, did he? Galiwanting again!' She turned about and rushed over the shingle towards the grocery, hardware, drapery, and general store.
Before entering that realm of respectability, Mrs. De Witt assumed an air of consequence and gravity.
She reduced her temper under control, and with an effort called up an urbane smile on her hard features when saluting Mrs. Musset, who stood behind the counter.
'Can I serve you with anything, ma'am?' asked the mother of Phoebe, with cold self-possession.
  You have been drinking, and have forgot yourself and where you are. We wish to see no more of your son. My Phoebe is not accustomed to demean herself by association with cannibals. It is unfortunate that she should have stepped beyond her sphere yesterday, but she has learned a lesson by it which will be invaluable for the future.  Birds of a feather flock together, and lambs don't consort with wolves. I beg, madam, that it be an understood matter between the families that, except in the way of business, as tobacco, sugar, currants, or calico, intimacy must cease.'
'Oh indeed!' exclaimed Mrs. De Witt, the colour mottling her cheek. 'You mean to insinuate that our social grades are so wery different.'
'Providence, madam, has made distinctions in human beings as in currants. Some are all fruit, and some half gravel.'
'You forget,' said Mrs. De Witt, 'that I was a Rebow—a Rebow of Red Hall. It was thence I inherit the blood in my weins and the bridge of my nose.'
'And that was pretty much all you did inherit from them,' observed Mrs. Musset. 'Much value they must be to you, as you have nothing else to boast of.'
'Oh, indeed, Mistress Musset!'
'Indeed, Mistress De Witt!' with a profound curtsey.
Mrs. De Witt attempted an imitation, but having been uninstructed in deportment as a child, and inexperienced in riper years, she got her limbs entangled, and when she had arrived at a sitting posture was unable to extricate herself with ease.
In attempting to recover her erect position she precipitated herself against a treacle barrel and upset it. A gush of black saccharine matter spread over the floor.
'Where is my son?' shouted Mrs. De Witt, her temper having broken control.
'You shall pay for the golden syrup,' said Mrs. Musset.
'Golden syrup!' jeered Mrs. De Witt, 'common treacle, the cleanings of the niggers' feet that tread out the sugar-cane.'
'It shall be put down to you!' cried the mistress of the store, defying her customer across the black river. 'I will have a summons out against you for the syrup.'
'And I will have a search-warrant for my son.'
'I have not got him. I should be ashamed to keep him under my respectable roof.'
'What is this disturbance about?' asked Mr. Musset, coming into the shop with his pipe.
'I want my son,' cried the incensed mother. 'He has not been seen since he came here last night. What have you done to him?'
'He is not here, Mistress. He only remained a few minutes to enquire after Phoebe, and then he left. We have not seen him since. Go to the Leather Bottle; you will probably find him there.'
The advice was reasonable; and having discharged a parting shot at Mrs. Musset, the bereaved mother departed and took her way to the quaint old inn by the waterside, entitled the Leather Bottle.
Mrs. De Witt pushed the door open and strode in. No one was there save the host, Isaac Mead. He knew nothing of George's whereabouts. He had not seen him or heard him spoken of. Mrs. De Witt having entered, felt it incumbent on her to take something for the good of the house.
The host sat opposite her at the table.
'Where can he be?' asked Mrs. De Witt. 'The boy cannot be lost.'
'Have you searched everywhere?'
'I have asked the lads; they either know nothing, or won't tell. I have been to the Musset's.  Mark my words. I say he will certainly turn up, perhaps not when you want him, or where you expect him, but he assuredly will reappear. I have had seven sons, and they got scattered all over the world, but they have all turned up one after another, and,' he added sententiously, 'the world is bigger than Mersea. It is nothing to be away for twelve or fourteen hours. Lads take no account of time, they do not walue it any more than they walue good looks. We older folks do; we hold to that which is slipping from us. When we was children, we thought we could deal with time as with the sprats. We draw in all and throw what we can't consume away. At last we find we have spoiled our fishing, and we must use larger meshes in our net. I will tell you another thing, Mistress,' continued the host, who delighted to moralise, 'time is like a clock, when young it goes slow, and when old it gallops. When you and I was little, we thought a day as long as now we find a year. As we grew older years went faster; and the older we wax the greater the speed with which time spins by; till at last it passes with a whisk and a flash, and that is eternity.'
'He cannot be drowned,' said Mrs. De Witt. 'That would be too ridiculous.'
'It would, just about.' After a moment's consideration Isaac added, 'I heard that Elijah Rebow was on the Hard last night, maybe your George is gone off with him.'
'Not likely, Isaac. I and Elijah are not on good terms. My father left me nothing. Elijah took all after his parents, and I did not get a penny.'
'You know we have war with foreigners,' observed the publican. 'Now I observe that everything in this world goes by contraries. When there's peace abroad, there is strife at home, and vice versâ. There was a man-of-war in the bay yesterday. I should not wonder if that put it into George's head to be a man-of-peace on land. When you want to estimate a person's opinions, first ask what other folks are saying round him, and take the clean contrary, and you hit the bull's-eye. If you see anything like to draw a man in one direction, look the opposite way, and you will find him. There was pretty strong intimation of war yesterday with the foreigners, then you may be dead certain he took a peaceful turn in his perwerse vein, and went to patch up old quarrels with Elijah.'
'It is possible,' said Mrs. De Witt. 'I will row to Red Hall and find out.'
'Have another glass before you go,' said the landlord. 'Never hurry about anything. If George be at his cousin's he will turn up in time. There is more got by waiting than by worrying.'
'But perhaps he is not there.'
'Then he is elsewhere.'
'He may be drowned.'
'He will turn up. Drowned or not, he will turn up. I never knew boys to fail. If he were a girl it would be different.   It is so also in life. If a girl strays from home, she goes to the bottom like a plummet, but a boy on the contrary goes up like a cork.'
Mrs. De Witt so far took Isaac Mead's advice that she waited at her home till afternoon. But as George did not return, she became seriously uneasy, not so much for him as for herself. She did not for a moment allow that any harm had befallen him, but she imagined this absence to be a formal defiance of her authority. Such a revolt was not to be overlooked. In Mrs. De Witt's opinion no man was able to stand alone, he must fall under female government or go to the dogs. Deliberate bachelors were, in her estimation, God-forsaken beings, always in scrapes, past redemption.  George had been always docile. She had bored docility into him with her tongue, and hammered it into him with her fist.
The idea came suddenly on her,—What if he had gone to the war schooner and enlisted? but was dismissed as speedily as impossible. Tales of ill-treatment in the Navy were rife among the shoremen. The pay was too small to entice a youth who owned a vessel, a billyboy, and oyster pans. He might do well in his trade, he must fare miserably in the Navy. Captain MacPherson had indeed invited George and others to follow him, but not one had volunteered.
She determined at last, in her impatience, to visit Red Hall, and for that purpose she got into the boat. Mrs. De Witt was able to row as well as a man. She did not start for Red Hall without reluctance. She had not been there since her marriage, kept away by her resentment. Elijah had made no overtures to her for reconciliation, had never invited her to revisit her native place, and her pride prevented her from making first advances. She had been cut off by her father, the family had kept aloof from her, and this had rankled in her heart. True, Elijah's father and mother were dead, and he was not mixed up in the first contentions; but he had inherited money which she considered ought to have fallen to her.
She was, however, anxious to see the old place again. Her young life there had not been happy; quite the reverse, for her father had been brutal, and her mother Calvinistic and sour. Yet Red Hall was, after all, her old home; its marshes were the first landscape on which her eyes had opened, its daisies had made her first necklaces, its bulrushes her first whips, its sea-wall the boundary of her childish world. It was a yearning for a wider, less level world, which had driven her in a rash moment into the arms of Moses De Witt.
The tide was out, so Mrs. De Witt was obliged to land at the point near the windmill. She walked thence on the sea-wall. She knew that wall well, fragrant with sovereign wood in summer, and rank with sea spinach. The aster blooming time was past, and the violet petals had fallen off, leaving only the yellow centres.
There, before her, like a stranded ark, was the old red house, unaltered, lonely, without a bush or tree to screen it.
The cattle stood browsing in the pasture as of old. In the marsh was a pond, a flight of wild fowl was wheeling round it, as in the autumns long ago. There was the little creek where her punt had lain, the punt in which she had been sometimes sent to Mersea to buy groceries for her mother.
The hard crust about the heart of Mrs. De Witt began to break, and the warm feeling within to ooze through. Gentler sentiments began to prevail. She would not take her son by the ears and bang his head, if she should find him at Red Hall. She would forgive him in a Christian spirit, and grant his dismissal with an innocuous curse.
She walked straight into the house. Elijah was crouched in his leather chair, with his head on one side, asleep. She stood over him and contemplated his unattractive face in silence, till he suddenly started, and exclaimed, 'Who is here? Who is this?'
Next moment he had recognised his visitor.
'So you are come, Aunt. You have not honoured me before. Will you have some whisky?'
'Thank you, Elijah, thank you. I am dry with rowing. But how come you to be asleep at this time of day? Were you out after ducks last night?'
'No, I was not out. I lay abed. I went to bed early.'
'Elijah, where is my son?'
He started, and looked at her suspiciously.
'How am I to know?'
'I cannot find him anywhere,' said the mother. 'I fear the boy has levanted. I may have been a little rough with him, but it was for his good. You cannot clean a deck with whiting, you must take holystone to the boards, and it is so with children. If you are not hard, you get off no edges, if you want to polish them, you must be gritty yourself. I doubt the boy is off.'
'What makes you think so?'
'I have not seen him. Nobody at Mersea has seen him. Have you?'
'Not since last night.'
'You saw him then?'
'Yes, he was on the beach going to Mehalah.'
'Galiwanting!' exclaimed Mrs. De Witt. 'Oh, what wickedness comes of galiwanting!' Then, recovering herself, 'But how could he get there? His boat was left on the Hard!'
'I suppose he went by land. He said something to that effect. You see the tide would have been out if he purposed to stay some time.'
'But what should make him go to the Ray? He had seen Mehalah on his boat.'
'He said there had been a quarrel, and he was bent on making it up. Go and look for him on the Ray. If he is not back on your boat already, you will find him, or hear of him, there.'
'Oh, the worries to parents that come of galiwanting!' moaned Mrs. De Witt, 'none who have not experienced can tell. Do not stay me, Elijah. Dear sackalive; I must go home. I dare say the boy is now on the "Pandora," trying to look innocent.' She rubbed her hands, and her eyes glistened. 'By cock!' she exclaimed, 'I would not be he.' She was out of the room, without a farewell to her nephew, down the steps, away over the flat to the sea-wall and her boat, her heart palpitating with anger.
It was late in the afternoon before Mrs. De Witt got back to Mersea. She ascended her ladder and unlocked the hatches. She looked about her. No George was on deck. She returned to the shore and renewed her enquiries. He had not been seen. No doubt he was still galivanting at the Ray. The uncertainty became unendurable. She jumped into her boat once more, and rowed to the island inhabited by Glory and her mother.
With her nose high in the air, her cap-frills quivering, she stepped out of the skiff. She had donned her military coat, to add to her imposing and threatening aspect.
The door of the house was open. She stood still and listened. She did not hear George's voice. She waited; she saw Mehalah moving in the room. Once the girl looked at her, but there was neither recognition nor lustre in her eyes. Mrs. De Witt made a motion towards her, but Glory did not move to meet her in return.
As she stepped over the threshold, Mrs. Sharland, who was seated by the fire, turned and observed her. The widow rose at once with a look of distress in her face, and advanced towards her, holding out her hand.
'Where is George?' asked Mrs. De Witt, ignoring the outstretched palm, in a hard, impatient tone.
'George!' echoed Mehalah, standing still, 'George is dead.'
'What nonsense!' said Mrs. De Witt, catching the girl by the shoulder and shaking her.
'I saw him. He is dead.' She quivered like an aspen.
The blood had ebbed behind her brown skin. Her eyes looked in Mrs. De Witt's face with a flash of agony in them.
'He came and looked in at the window at me, and cast me back the keepsake I had given him, and which he swore not to part with while life lasted.'
'Dear sackalive!' exclaimed Mrs. De Witt; 'the girl is dreaming or demented. What is the meaning of all this, Mistress Sharland?'
'Last night,' explained the widow, 'as Mehalah was sitting here in the dark, some one came to the window, stove it in—look how the lead is torn, and the glass fallen out—and cast at the feet of Mehalah a medal she had given George on Thursday. She thinks,' added the old woman in a subdued tone, 'that what she saw was his spirit.'
Mrs. De Witt was awed. She was not a woman without superstition, but she was not one to allow a supernatural intervention till all possible prosaic explanations had been exhausted.
'Is this Gospel truth?' she asked.
'It is true,' answered the widow.
'Did you see the face, Glory? Are you sure that what you saw was George?'
'I did not see the face. I saw only the figure. But it was George. It could have been no other. He alone had the medal, and he brought it back to me.'
'You see,' explained the widow Sharland, 'the coin was an heirloom; it might not go out of the family.'
'I see it all,' exclaimed Mrs. De Witt. 'Galiwanting again! He came to return the keepsake to Mehalah, because he wanted to break with her and take on with another.'
'No, never!' exclaimed Mehalah vehemently. 'He could not do it. He was as true to me as I am to him. He could not do it. He came to tell me that all was over.'
'Dear sackalive!' said Mrs. De Witt, 'you don't know men as I do. You have had no more experience of them than you have of kangaroos. I will not believe he is dead.'
'He is dead,' Mehalah burst forth with fierce vehemence. 'He is drowned, he is not false. He is dead, he is dead.'
'I know better,' said Mrs. De Witt in a low tone to herself as she bit her thumb. 'That boy is galiwanting somewhere; the only question to me is Where. By cock! I'd give a penny to know.'


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_field_list
(in
CAVEAT
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_name
(in
SLTBRG
)
__init__()
(in
GLTLSGroup
)
_field_list
(in
CISPEP
)
_name
(in
SOURCE
)
__init__()
(in
TLSFile
)
_field_list
(in
COMPND
)
_name
(in
SPRSDE
)
__init__()
(in
TLSGroup
)
_field_list
(in
CONECT
)
_name
(in
SSBOND
)
__init__()
(in
TLSGroupDesc
)
_field_list
(in
CRYSTn
)
_name
(in
TER
)
__init__()
(in
TLSStructureAnalysis
)
_field_list
(in
DBREF
)
_name
(in
TITLE
)
__init__()
(in
UnitCell
)
_field_list
(in
END
)
_name
(in
TURN
)
__init__()
(in
GLAtomList
)
_field_list
(in
ENDMDL
)
_name
(in
TVECT
)
__init__()
(in
GLAxes
)
_field_list
(in
EXPDTA
)
_technique_list
(in
EXPDTA
)
__init__()
(in
GLChain
)
_field_list
(in
FORMUL
)
_typeMap
(in
mmLib.NumericCompat
)
__init__()
(in
GLDrawList
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_field_list
(in
HEADER
)
__init__()
(in
GLObject
)
_field_list
(in
HELIX
)
Home
Trees
Indices
Help
Python Macromolecular Library
Generated by Epydoc 3.0.1 on Mon Jun 27 14:43:13 2011
http://epydoc.sourceforge.net


Fight Club
An insurance company employee suffers from chronic insomnia and is desperate to escape from an excruciatingly boring life. Once in another business trip, he meets a certain Tyler Durden-a charismatic soap merchant with a perverted philosophy. Tyler believes that self-improvement is for the weak, and the only thing worth living for is self — destruction. A little time passes, and now new friends are beating each other for nothing in the Parking lot in front of the bar, and the cleansing fight gives them the highest bliss. Introducing other men to the simple pleasures of physical cruelty, they found a secret Fight club, which begins to enjoy incredible popularity.


Fire Scripts ToolKit
Tools
Home
Getting Started
Connect
Screensaver
Install APKs
Send Files
Dark Mode
Get Started!
Make sure your Firestick and Computer are connected to the
Same
WiFi network.
Go to Firestick Settings > My Fire TV > Developer Options and turn on ADB debugging and Apps from Unknown Sources.
Click the "Next" button to connect over ADB.
Next


SKATEBOARD
Deck
Truck
Bearings
Wheels
Griptape
CLOTHINGS
Tops
Bottom
Footwear
Headwear
ACCESSORIES
Backpacks
Other
CUSTOMER SERVICES
Hotline
FAQ
Search


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--- status: publish layout: page title: Watershed Areas author: display_name: JP email<EMAIL_ADDRESS>tags: - data - water - watersheds categories: [] published: true date: 2011-11-22 18:03:41 -0700 ---
Data Type: GIS Data Layer
Steward(s): AGRC, BLM
Abstract:
Water.Watersheds_Area represents the watershed areas throughout Utah. This data set is intended to be used as a tool for water-resource management and planning activities, particularly for site-specific and localized studies requiring a level of detail provided by large-scale map information.
Usage:
The HUC_8 field contains the 8 digit hydrologic unit code for the 4th level sub-basins
The HU_8_NAME field contains the sub-basin name
The HUC_10 field contains the 10 digit hydrologic unit code for the 5th level watersheds
The HU_10_NAME field contains the watershed name
The HUG_12 field contains the 12 digit hydrologic unit code for the 6th level subwatersheds
The HU_12_NAME field contains the subwatershed name
Last Update: Unknown
Contact: AGRC
Links: FGDC Metadata


A visual approach is an approach to a runway at an airport
conducted under instrument flight rules. The pilot must at all times have either the airport or the preceding aircraft in approach correct sight. conducted under instrument flight rules. The pilot must at all times.
Preceding aircraft in approach correct sight. conducted under instrument flight rules.
A visual approach is an approach to a runway at an airport conducted under instrument flight rules. The preceding aircraft in approach correct sight.
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KNOW MORELorem Ipsum is not simply is an action designer random text It has roots in a piece.
Lorem Ipsum is not simply is an action designer random text It has roots in a piece.
Lorem Ipsum is not simply is an action designer random text It has roots in a piece.
Lorem Ipsum is not simply is an action designer random text It has roots in a piece.
Lorem Ipsum is not simply is an action designer random text It has roots in a piece.
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Lorem Ipsum is simply dummy text of the printing and you standard dummy know that text ever since the 1500s, when an unknown printer took a galley of type and scrambled it to make a type specimen book.
Lorem Ipsum is simply dummy text of the printing and you standard dummy know that text ever since the 1500s, when an unknown printer took a galley of type and scrambled it to make a type specimen book.


Already Exists
You tried to create something that already exists. Please try again with a different name


--- layout: post title: A Portable (and Squeezable) Way to Recharge date: 2006-07-19 00:00:00 categories: interfaces-&-interaction mobile ---
A Portable (and Squeezable) Way to Recharge: "Squeeze the shell, plug in the cable, and the fuel cell starts to do its work: a chemical reaction produces electricity, and a dead Razr is brought to life more swiftly than Frankenstein."


The metric M3 tracks the structure of the traffic at root servers. This is done by analyzing samples of traffic from the ICANN Managed Root Server (IMRS). IMRS use anycast addressing to direct the service to hundreds of servers distributed around the world. Each day, our partners process 2-minute traffic samples from each of these servers. To avoid time-of-day bias, the time to start each server's sampling is picked at random, using independent random draws for each server. Our partners then send us the summary data for each sample, which are aggregated at the end of the month into one big summary file. The M3 metrics are computed from this summary. There are two sets of metrics:
In theory, the root traffic should just contain requests by recursive resolvers for the NS records of TLD servers. Those requests should be cached for the time to live of the records, which means that the same resolvers should only repeat the same query after the time to live of the previous expires, or maybe if it is almost ready to expire. In practice, our analysis so far shows that the traffic from the root does not meet this theoretical explanation: a large part of the traffic is composed of requests for names that do not correspond to registered TLD; and, a large fraction of the requests to regular TLD are repeated at short intervals, much lower than the TTL. This leads to the definition the metrics M3, which are in fact 3 metrics:
The pie-chart above shows the division of traffic between "NX Domain" (M3.1), "Not TTL Compliant" (M3.2) and "TTL Compliant", defined as: 100% - M3.1 - M3.2.
The name leakage at the root is measured by the M3.3 metrics. Earlier measurements showed that this leakage corresponds to several classes of name. We want to measure the evolution of this leakage over time with M3.3, which is composed of 4 metrics, M3.3.1 to M3.3.4.
The first class of leaks corresponds to special use domain names such as for example “.LOCAL”, reserved by the IETF according to RFC 6761, and recorded by IANA in the Special Use Domain Names registry . For each of the special use domain name, the tools will compute:
The second class of leaks corresponds to commonly configured “unregistered” strings, such as for example “.HOME”. These strings are typically configured in private networks, which their administrators believed to be isolated from the Internet. However, experience shows that such isolation is imperfect. The tools will find out which of these unregistered strings appear most frequently in the traces, and will compute:
We also observe that a large fraction of the leaks is caused by “made up” names. Some of these appear to be the output of Domain Generation Algorithms (DGA). Some are generated by software trying to assess local connectivity to the DNS by sending a query to the root server; doing so with a newly generated DGA name increases the probability that the query will be sent all the way to the root. Other may be the result of test tools, attack tools, configuration errors, or plain software bugs. The tools will attempt to characterize use of such patterns by computing:
Finally, we will also measure the fraction of leaks that are not explained by M3.3.1, M3.3.2 or M3.3.3:
This definition assumes that there is no double-counting, and that for example a given string cannot be accounted both as an individual string in M3.3.2, and as part of a pattern in M3.3.3.
The current values of the metrics is available here.
We can deduce from the traffic seen at root servers some characteristics of the resolvers that are directly accessing the root such as whether resolvers use extended DNS (M3.4.1), what EDNS options they use (M3.4.2), whether they set the DNSSEC OK bit in queries (M3.5), and whether they appear to enforce QName Minimization (M3.6)
All these metrics are computed as a ratio of number of resolvers using the feature versus total number of resolvers. We identify resolvers by their IP address, we compute the number of IP addresses for which the feature is present, and we divide by the total number of IP addresses to obtain the ratio. We will count the number of IP addresses in each sample of root traffic analyzed for a month, and we will sum the number of IP addresses across all samples before computing the ratios.
In order to reduce the noise in the measurement, we only perform these statistics on valid queries, and we ignore IP addresses from which we only receive invalid queries.
For each IP address found, we perform the following computations:
We understand that performing statistics per IP address will lead to imprecisions if multiple resolvers share the same IP address, which happens if they are behind the same NAT. We will attempt in the future to quantify this imprecision.


TRUE CRIME
** 1/2 (out of 4) - an enjoyable movie
Release Date: March 19, 1999 Starring: Clint Eastwood, James Woods, Denis Leary, Isaiah Washington, Diane Venora, Sydney Poitier, Mary McCormack Directed by: Clint Eastwood Distributed by: Warner Brothers MPAA Rating: R (language, some violence) URL: http://www.execpc.com/~kinnopio/reviews/1999/truecrime.htm
Clint Eastwood never changes. He does not age in a linear fashion, as most men do, but instead on some radical quadratic curve. On the screen, he's always been and always will be a dog.  And this recycled demeanor is only the beginning of an atmosphere of déjà vu that surrounds Eastwood's latest crime drama, TRUE CRIME.
TRUE CRIME is a mystery of sorts, and its primary setting is the death row cellblock of San Quentin. This is familiar ground for most viewers, as Hollywood cameras have been in and out of prisons on countless occasions. John Grisham films in particular are regular introspectives into the lives of the men and women on both sides of the bars. The mystery surrounds a wrongfully convicted man and a race against his midnight execution date, which is another familiar story for movie watchers. Toss in the typical character finds of the washed-up ex-drunk, the boss looking for an excuse to can him, the wife looking for an excuse to leave him, and the occasional companion who still wants to trust him, and TRUE CRIME is looking like a painfully familiar movie.
Specifically, Eastwood gives us, step-by-step, the final day of Frank Beachum (Isaiah Washington). Beachum has been convicted in the shooting death of a convenience store clerk; Steve Everett (Eastwood), a reporter assigned to the incident only in the last twenty-four hours, smells something wrong and decides to investigate. Everett is famous for his "hunches," and his boss (Denis Leary) warns him several times not to go looking for anything but a simple human interest sidebar story. Nevertheless, Everett starts his own investigation, if only to save his own career.
In the end, however, it's Eastwood's adventurous direction that saves this movie from being a case study in recycled film. The ancient entertainer is easily more skilled behind the camera now than he is in front of it, and once past his seedy character stereotype his fluent direction is easily visible. Although the movie is a bit longish, Eastwood has a very determined style of filmmaking, keeping the movie straight from start to finish. Plot twists are nicely contained, and the movie never once spins out of control.
The supports also help to keep this movie above water. James Woods and Denis Leary are outstanding, providing the movie's comic relief against Eastwood's boring stoicism. Isaiah Washington, as the condemned man of the lot, gives a very subdued performance here, which conveys a much greater sense of power.
The only flaws to be found in TRUE CRIME are its gravitation toward the familiar and its mass of forced emoting. Neither of these help what could have been a truly provocative motion picture, in the way that DEAD MAN WALKING was. Instead, it's just another mediocre product of only relative worth.
all contents © 1999 Craig Roush
-- Craig Roush<EMAIL_ADDRESS>-- Kinnopio's Movie Reviews http://www.execpc.com/~kinnopio
The review above was posted to the
rec.arts.movies.reviews newsgroup (de.rec.film.kritiken for German reviews).
The Internet Movie Database accepts no responsibility for the contents of the
review and has no editorial control. Unless stated otherwise, the copyright
belongs to the author.
Please direct comments/criticisms of the review to relevant newsgroups.
Broken URLs inthe reviews are the responsibility of the author.
The formatting of the review is likely to differ from the original due
to ASCII to HTML conversion.
Related links: index of all rec.arts.movies.reviews reviews


+ A project by Newspeak House
+ Enquiries to @docsdotplus or<EMAIL_ADDRESS>+ Back us on Patreon to help us pay for hosting & development
+ Seed funding from Grant for Web & Nesta
+ Built on Etherpad
+ Hosted by Ultima
% var settings = require("ep_etherpad-lite/node/utils/Settings"); %>
docs but better!
+ A project by Newspeak House
+ Enquiries to @docsdotplus or<EMAIL_ADDRESS>+ Back us on Patreon to help us pay for hosting & development
+ Seed funding from Grant for Web & Nesta
+ Built on Etherpad
+ Hosted by Ultima


20:34
Name
Wednesday, June 09, 2004
20:34
Name
So a priest, a rabbi, and a chicken walk into a bar.
20:34
Name
I'm pretty sure I've heard this one before.
20:34
Nameghjgjhghjghghj
So what happens next?
20:34
Name
If I remember correctly, they explode outward at the speed of light.
20:34
Name
But that might be if you cross the streams…
20:34
Name
…thus negating all existence!
20:34
Name
Precisely! it's a risk one takes whenever one walks into a bar, I'm afraid. Especially if one is a chicken.
20:34
Jeff went away
20:34
Away Message: "Away for the sake of being away."
20:34
Name
Away for the sake of being away.
20:34
Name
jshjkhkjhkjhkkdhfj
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20:34
Name
http://www.haruhisuzumiya.net/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/Suzumiya-Haruhi-2nd-season-ep24-16.jpg
hkjhkjh
14:36
Akemi
test
not much?
21:59
Akemi
The answer is 42.


Contents:
primerDAFT.version.
Version
Bases: object
object
Version of the package
Created on 29 July 2012 @author: Lisa Simpson
primerDAFT.
run
run findPrimers and specCheck
task (dic): task data
saveTmp (bool): true if user wants to save temporary files
Returns:
dict: result dictionary


stonktastic.config package¶
Submodules¶
stonktastic.config.config module¶
- Summary:
Here we import and load the values from config.csv into the code. There are no functions. The code uses pandas to load the CSV into a dataframe then sequesters off each part into its own value
Configuration Values
Variables
polyVariables (list) : list of variables that will be used for Polynomial Regression.
memVariables (list) : list of variables that will be used for mem.
ranVariables (list) : list of variables that will be used for Random Forest.
Settings
RSILookbackTime (int) : Number of days we want to look back when calculating RIS.
maxSQLPull (int) : Maximum number of days to look back on from current day when pulling from the SQL database
maxHistory (int) : Number of trading days in a year.
polyPolynomial (int) : Polynomial level used in the code. This increases the chance of overfitting if raised too high.
memLookbackTime (int) : Number of days that we will look back in with the LTMS model.
memLoss (str) : The method used to calculate loss in the mem model.
memActivation (str) : Value we are using for activation in the mem model.
memOptimizer (str) : Optimizer used in the mem model.
memEpochs (int) : Number of Epochs used as a standard for the LTMS model.
memBatchSize (int) : Number of Neurons simulated in the mem model.
ranForEstimators (int) : Number of descision trees used in the Random Forest Model.
stockToOpt (str) : The stock code that will be used when optimizing the program
stonktastic.config.paths module¶
- Summary:
Using the pathlib library we generate path values and dict/key pairs for the location of the models and configuration files. This code also connects to the database and generates the connector and cursor values.
Configuration Values
Localpath (path obj) : Path to the project folder.
dbLocation (path obj) : Path to the Database.
configLocations (path obj) : Path to where the config variables are saved.
modelLocation (path obj) : Path to the models Folder.
modelPaths (dict) : Dict/Key pair for each machine learning model’s folder location.
filePaths (dict) : Dict/Key pair for the configuration files.
dbconnector (obj) : SQL Lite connector object to the production DB.
dbcursor (obj) : SQL Lite cursor object for the dbconnector mentioned above.
Module contents¶
There are two areas of Config that need to be imported
Config : imports the variables saved in config.csv into the code.
Paths : Using pathlib we generate the pathing needed for reference to the database, models and other files


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Author:{{quote.author}}
Votes:{{quote.vote}}


Pokemon Sword And Shield's Animations Are The Cutest
by Alex WalkerThe game might not have Psyduck, but now that Sword & Shield is actually out in the wild, fans are having a blast with how cute the game actually is.
Something Sword & Shield has in spades is a bit of extra life. The open-world is roomier and less cramped than the design of Pokemon games past, owing to the fact that the Switch has more memory and storage available.
Sure, that doesn't get around the general annoyances of the attack animations and the complaints about textures that fans have been levelling for the last two weeks. But, as the Can You Pet The Dog twitter account noted, you can play fetch with the cute corgi dogs in Sword & Shield.
It's the little animations that add life into a game's world, the kind of life that was much harder for Game Freak to build into the 3DS versions of Pokemon. People have screencapped their Pokemon getting excited at their trainers having a good meal, Lucarios doing Naruto runs after trainers, cute Pokemon slowly approaching, and just the kind of weird interactions that fans have never seen before.
Pokemon has always had an enormous fanbase with an incredible appetite for imaginations, filling the void of what Pokemon are like on a daily basis in ways that Game Freak could never feasibly insert into a game. With Sword & Shield, the developers are at least finally able to bring Galar to life in a way that gives each individual Pokemon a greater sense of character and physical identity. So far, fans are loving it.


Patterns for Flask¶
Certain things are common enough that the chances are high you will find them in most web applications. For example quite a lot of applications are using relational databases and user authentication. In that case, chances are they will open a database connection at the beginning of the request and get the information of the currently logged in user. At the end of the request, the database connection is closed again.
There are more user contributed snippets and patterns in the Flask Snippet Archives.
- Larger Applications
- Application Factories
- Application Dispatching
- Implementing API Exceptions
- Using URL Processors
- Deploying with Distribute
- Deploying with Fabric
- Using SQLite 3 with Flask
- SQLAlchemy in Flask
- Uploading Files
- Caching
- View Decorators
- Form Validation with WTForms
- Template Inheritance
- Message Flashing
- AJAX with jQuery
- Custom Error Pages
- Lazily Loading Views
- MongoKit in Flask
- Adding a favicon
- Streaming Contents
- Deferred Request Callbacks
- Adding HTTP Method Overrides
- Request Content Checksums
- Celery Based Background Tasks


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THE REVOLUTION CONTINUES: International Women’s Day, Link TV, Rise for
the Raise!
Sunday, 8 March marks International Women’s Day and activist around
the world celebrating and RISING!
One Billion Rising: Revolution continues to escalate, growing out of
14 February, through 8 March all the way until 1 May, International
Workers Day. This week major events are happening in Bangladesh,
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Rev Pa’m Fest, in Joburg, South African youth activist are leading the
way on the ground and with online activism, Kinshasa DRC is dancing
and RISING in the face of multiple oppressions, and activists in
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workers, and participants from Ulaanbaatar to Sükhbaatar Province are
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News and Blog
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CAPITALISM, IMPERIALISM, FEMINISM: Laura Flanders Show
Monique Wilson & Kenyan activists Agnes Pareyio appear on a special
show dedicated to International Women’s Day. Laura Flanders, of
GRITtv, interviews them and profiles women activists from the US civil
rights movement. The show aires on satellite TV network LINK TV over
the next week and also available to view online.
WATCH the program >
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RISE FOR THE RAISE in NYC and beyond!
Restaurant Opportunities Centers United (ROC United) and the One Fair
Wage Campaign kicks-off Women’s history month with a historic
victory. Last week, Governor Cuomo announced a raise to $7.50 an hour
for New York’s 400,000 tipped workers.
Dedicated activism and support for the ongoing campaign has made this
victory possible, but there is still more to do in order to review the
entire two-tiered wage system at a national level.
READ the full story >
http://action.vday.org/site/R?i=VC582uI4jN6Uyj3G94deeg
SHARE what the Revolution looked like
We are gathering high-resolution footage and photos of the unique,
grassroots, community focused RISINGS from around the world. Show the
world your One Billion Rising: Revolution!
HERE’S HOW >
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| Usage | Synopsis |
|---|---|
| General | $ tns test <Platform> |
Runs unit tests on the selected mobile platform.
<Platform>
is the target mobile platform on which you want to run the tests. You can set the following target platforms.
android
- Runs the tests in your project on connected Android devices or running native emulators. ios
- Runs the tests in your project on connected iOS devices.app/tests
.| Command | Description |
|---|---|
| test init | Configures your project for unit testing with a selected framework. |
| test android | Runs the tests in your project on Android devices or native emulators. |
| test ios | Runs the tests in your project on iOS devices or the iOS Simulator. |


The Steelers Have Benched QB Mason Rudolph
by Matt HladikNovember has been a rough month for Mason Rudolph. First, he got his helmet swung at him by an angry Myles Garrett. Now, he’s been benched.
The Steelers pulled the plug on Rudolph in the second half of today’s game against the Cincinnati Bengals. Rudolph was just 8-for-16 for 85 yards and an interception before getting pulled.
Devlin Hodges replaced Rudolph.
Sure enough, what did Hodges do as soon as he got in? Connect with James Washington on a 79-yard touchdown pass.
That’s the second career touchdown pass for the rookie out of Samford.
Pittsburgh leads the lowly Bengals 10-7 now in the third quarter. If the Steelers hold on and win, you have to think Hodges has a good chance at starting next week.
We’ll see how the rest of the afternoon goes.


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Some quick example text to build on the card title and make up the bulk of the card's content.
Some quick example text to build on the card title and make up the bulk of the card's content.
Some quick example text to build on the card title and make up the bulk of the card's content.
Some quick example text to build on the card title and make up the bulk of the card's content.
Some quick example text to build on the card title and make up the bulk of the card's content.
Some quick example text to build on the card title and make up the bulk of the card's content.
Some quick example text to build on the card title and make up the bulk of the card's content.


Put my first paragraph of text here.
Put my second paragraph here.
Put my third paragraph of text here.
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|
TritonPlatform
0.1
Crossplatform API
|
#include <Context.h>
Public Member Functions | |
| virtual Window * | newWindow ()=0 |
| virtual Renderer * | newRenderer (Window *window)=0 |
| virtual bool | init ()=0 |
| virtual void | shutdown ()=0 |
| virtual Shader * | newShader (const IO::ShaderData &createParams)=0 |
| virtual VAO * | newVAO (const IO::MeshData::Mesh &createParams)=0 |
| virtual Texture * | newTexture (const IO::ImageData &createParams)=0 |
| virtual CubeTexture * | newCubeTexture (const IO::ImageArrayData &createParams)=0 |
| virtual Framebuffer * | newFramebuffer (unsigned int width, unsigned int height)=0 |
| virtual Bitmap * | newBitmap (const BitmapCreateParams &createParams)=0 |
| IO::Keyboard & | keyboard () const |
| IO::Mouse & | mouse () const |
Static Public Member Functions | |
| static Context * | create () |
Protected Attributes | |
| bool | m_initialized = false |
| Variable to track if the context has been initialized or not. | |
| IO::Keyboard * | m_keyboardState |
| Variable used to track the keyboard state, all windows share a single keyboard state. | |
| IO::Mouse * | m_mouseState |
| Variable used to track the mouse state, all windows share a single mouse state. | |
The context used by most APIs, each API implements it's own instance of the Context the correct one can be created using static Context method create
|
static |
Create a context
|
pure virtual |
Initialize the Context class
| IO::Keyboard & Context::keyboard | ( | ) | const |
Returns the keyboard state of the context
| IO::Mouse & Context::mouse | ( | ) | const |
Returns the mouse state of the context
|
pure virtual |
Create a new bitmap from the create params
| createParams | The parameters of the bitmap |
|
pure virtual |
Create a new CubeTexture from the create params
| createParams | The parameters of the cube texture |
|
pure virtual |
Create a new frame buffer
| width | The width of the new frame buffer |
| height | The height of the new frame buffer |
Create a new renderer from a window
| window | The window to create the renderer for |
|
pure virtual |
Create a new shader from the create params
| createParams | The parameters of the shader |
|
pure virtual |
Create a new texture from the specified params
| createParams | The parameters of the image |
|
pure virtual |
|
pure virtual |
Create a new empty window
|
pure virtual |
Shutdown the context and clean all the resources


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Unless otherwise noted, code is MIT License and graphics (excluding the blog art) is CC BY License.
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496 Projects
The SALT lab is offering the following projects as part of EECE 496 at UBC.
List of Projects
- CSS Analysis and Visualization: CSS is a widely used language for describing the presentation semantics of HTML elements on the web. The
language has a number of characteristics, such as inheritance
and cascading order, which makes maintaining CSS code a
challenging task for web developers. As a result, it is common
for unused rules to be accumulated over time. Our lab has developed a software tool called CILLA, which is written in Java and is capable of automatically detecting unused CSS code in web applications. The goal of this 496 project is to build a visualization component for the textual output produced by CILLA by linking the detected unused code to the original CSS code so that developers can easily see which parts of the code needs maintenance and cleaning up activities.
- Mobile Application Navigation: This project offers an opportunity to explore how web applications running on mobile operating systems such as iOS (on e.g., iPhone, iPad) and Android can be automatically navigated and analyzed for cross-platform compatibility.
- Crawljax Plugins: Crawljax is a web crawler (see crawljax.com) that can navigate any modern standards-based web application including JavaScript and Ajax-based ones. Crawljax has a plugin-based architecture and there are already many plugins available. This 496 project aims at designing and developing new generic web crawling and analysis plugins.
These projects require strong programming skills. Students are expected to be committed and be able to work relatively independently as far as the implementation steps are concerned. There will be regular meetings to discuss the milestones on a conceptual/design level throughout the project.
If you have other interesting EECE 496 projects in the areas of web and software engineering, send me an email and we can discuss the possibilities.


http Class
Helper functions to generate standard HTTP requests using the xhr npm module.
All methods return a Promise.
It is integrated with the rendering engine so that upon completion of a request, a redraw is requested.
Item Index
Methods
create
-
url
-
body
Alias of post. Produces an HTTP POST (create) request accepting JSON data. It returns a Promise. It queues and resolves a redraw request.
When resolved successfully, the response will contain:
body
{Object} An object with the JSON response already parsed.statusCode
{Number} Values in the 2xx range will be considered successful, others, a rejectionmethod
{String} The valuePOST
headers
{Object} The XHR response headersurl
{String} The URL requestedrawRequest
{XMLHttpRequest} The XHR object for this request
The promise can be rejected with a standard JavaScript Error
object with at least name
and message
properties if the request could not be processed due to erroneous arguments. If the response comes with an error code above the 2xx range, it will also be rejected with the same response object as a successful response.
Parameters:
-
url
StringURL for the request
-
body
ObjectData to be sent. It will be turned into JSON before sending
Returns:
as described above.
del
-
url
Produces an HTTP DELETE request. It returns a Promise. It queues and resolves a redraw request.
When resolved successfully, the response will contain:
body
{Object} An object with the JSON response already parsed.statusCode
{Number} Values in the 2xx range will be considered successful, others, a rejectionmethod
{String} The valueDEL
headers
{Object} The XHR response headersurl
{String} The URL requestedrawRequest
{XMLHttpRequest} The XHR object for this request
The promise can be rejected with a standard JavaScript Error
object with at least name
and message
properties if the request could not be processed due to erroneous arguments. If the response comes with an error code above the 2xx range, it will also be rejected with the same response object as a successful response.
Parameters:
-
url
StringURL for the request
Returns:
as described above.
get
-
url
Produces an HTTP GET request accepting JSON data. It returns a Promise. It queues and resolves a redraw request.
When resolved successfully, the response will contain:
body
{Object} An object with the JSON response already parsed.statusCode
{Number} Values in the 2xx range will be considered successful, others, a rejectionmethod
{String} The valueGET
headers
{Object} The XHR response headersurl
{String} The URL requestedrawRequest
{XMLHttpRequest} The XHR object for this request
The promise can be rejected with a standard JavaScript Error
object with at least name
and message
properties if the request could not be processed due to erroneous arguments. If the response comes with an error code above the 2xx range, it will also be rejected with the same response object as a successful response.
Parameters:
-
url
StringURL for the request
Returns:
as described above.
http
-
config
Generic entry point for HTTP requests. It returns a Promise. It queues and resolves a redraw request.
When resolved successfully, the response will contain:
body
{Object||String} It the request was for JSON data, it will be returned as an object, otherwise, the plain XHRresponseText
.statusCode
{Number} Values in the 2xx range will be considered successful, others, a rejectionmethod
{String} The HTTP method that had been requestedheaders
{Object} The XHR response headersurl
{String} The URL requestedrawRequest
{XMLHttpRequest} The XHR object for this request
The promise can be rejected with a standard JavaScript Error
object with at least name
and message
properties if the request could not be processed due to erroneous arguments. If the response comes with an error code above the 2xx range, it will also be rejected with the same response object as a successful response.
Parameters:
-
config
ObjectSee xhr
Returns:
as described above.
post
-
url
-
body
Produces an HTTP POST (create) request sending and accepting JSON data. It returns a Promise. It queues and resolves a redraw request.
When resolved successfully, the response will contain:
body
{Object} An object with the JSON response already parsed.statusCode
{Number} Values in the 2xx range will be considered successful, others, a rejectionmethod
{String} The valuePOST
headers
{Object} The XHR response headersurl
{String} The URL requestedrawRequest
{XMLHttpRequest} The XHR object for this request
The promise can be rejected with a standard JavaScript Error
object with at least name
and message
properties if the request could not be processed due to erroneous arguments. If the response comes with an error code above the 2xx range, it will also be rejected with the same response object as a successful response.
Parameters:
-
url
StringURL for the request
-
body
ObjectData to be sent. It will be turned into JSON before sending
put
-
url
-
body
Produces an HTTP PUT (update) request accepting JSON data. It returns a Promise. It queues and resolves a redraw request.
When resolved successfully, the response will contain:
body
{Object} An object with the JSON response already parsed.statusCode
{Number} Values in the 2xx range will be considered successful, others, a rejectionmethod
{String} The valuePUT
headers
{Object} The XHR response headersurl
{String} The URL requestedrawRequest
{XMLHttpRequest} The XHR object for this request
The promise can be rejected with a standard JavaScript Error
object with at least name
and message
properties if the request could not be processed due to erroneous arguments. If the response comes with an error code above the 2xx range, it will also be rejected with the same response object as a successful response.
Parameters:
-
url
StringURL for the request
-
body
ObjectData to be sent. It will be turned into JSON before sending
Returns:
as described above.
update
-
url
-
body
Alias of put. Produces an HTTP PUT (update) request accepting JSON data. It returns a Promise. It queues and resolves a redraw request.
When resolved successfully, the response will contain:
body
{Object} An object with the JSON response already parsed.statusCode
{Number} Values in the 2xx range will be considered successful, others, a rejectionmethod
{String} The valuePUT
headers
{Object} The XHR response headersurl
{String} The URL requestedrawRequest
{XMLHttpRequest} The XHR object for this request
The promise can be rejected with a standard JavaScript Error
object with at least name
and message
properties if the request could not be processed due to erroneous arguments. If the response comes with an error code above the 2xx range, it will also be rejected with the same response object as a successful response.
Parameters:
-
url
StringURL for the request
-
body
ObjectData to be sent. It will be turned into JSON before sending
Returns:
as described above.


Dear Sir/Madam, My name is Mr.Richard Wilson, a senior staff and auditor head of computing department here in our bank.I have only written to seek your indulgence and assistance. I wish to make a transfer involving a huge amount of £15,000,000.00.(fifteen million pounds sterling). I am proposing to make this transfer to a designated bank account of your choice. Thus, for your indulgence and support, I propose an offer of 25% of the total amount to be yours after the transfer has been successfully concluded. Kindly reply me stating your interest, and I shall furnish you with the details and necessary proceedure with which to make the transfer. I am anxiously awaiting your response through my alternative email address<EMAIL_ADDRESS>when replying this mail kindly include your Telephone and Fax number for better communication. Thanks and Godbless. Mr.Richard Wilson.


--- faq: - question: What is the FAB Shop? answer: Jekyll is a simple, blog-aware, static site generator. It takes a template directory containing raw text files in various formats, runs it through a converter (like Markdown) and our Liquid renderer, and spits out a complete, ready-to-publish static website suitable for serving with your favorite web server. - question: Why buy the kits? answer: The front matter is where Jekyll starts to get really cool. Any file that contains a YAML front matter block will be processed by Jekyll as a special file. The front matter must be the first thing in the file and must take the form of valid YAML set between triple-dashed lines - question: Where can I purchase the kits? answer: The front matter is where Jekyll starts to get really cool. Any file that contains a YAML front matter block will be processed by Jekyll as a special file. The front matter must be the first thing in the file and must take the form of valid YAML set between triple-dashed lines - question: Who is curating the Kits? answer: The front matter is where Jekyll starts to get really cool. Any file that contains a YAML front matter block will be processed by Jekyll as a special file. The front matter must be the first thing in the file and must take the form of valid YAML set between triple-dashed lines ---


Mobile applications developer with strong engineering skills gained from almost a decade of experience building and maintaining mobile applications on both the Android and iOS platforms. A team player and has experience in leading a talented and motivated team of developers.
Here are some of the notable projects where Mark has been involved in.
Department of Science & Technology (DOST) Scholar
Apart from programming and designing cool stuff 📱💻, Mark enjoys most of his time with his family 👨👩👦 - spending quality time with them. He also like playing sports, especially basketball 🏀 - it was his chilhood dream to become a basketball player ⛹
He's also far more likely to wander away from home in search of adventure! He enjoys biking 🚵♂ and motorcycling 🛵💨 because it's full of fun! and also a cheaper from of travel 🤑. Riding his bike 🚲 or motorcycle 🛵 always gives him exciting experiences and new discoveries 🔭. He also loves documenting and sharing his ride stories.
You can checkout his adventure Vlogs on: MacRides YouTube Channel or MacRides Facebook Page


{
"name": "my app",
"version": 2,
"alias": ["my-domain.com"]
}
Modules that take a deployment's source and return an output.
If a build step is added, Now will only include its outputs in the resulting deployment.
{
"version": 2,
"builds": [
{ "src": "function.js", "use": "@now/node" },
{ "src": "index.html", "use": "@now/static" }
]
}
{
"builds": [
{ "src": "*.html", "use": "@now/static" },
{ "src": "*.js", "use": "@now/node" },
],
"routes": [
{ "src": "/custom-page", "headers": {"cache-control": "s-maxage=1000"}, "dest": "/index.html" },
{ "src": "/api", "dest": "/my-api.js" },
{ "src": "/users", "methods": ["POST"], "dest": "/users-api.js" },
{ "src": "/.*", "dest": "https://my-old-site.com"},
{ "src": "/legacy", "status": 404},
{ "src": "/redirect", "status": 301, "headers": { "Location": "https://zeit.co/" } }
]
}
Also check create-react-app example
Allows you to store sensitive data needed by your apps to function in a secure way. Once you store a secret, its contents are no longer accessible directly by anyone.
now -e MY_VARIABLE="Hello world :)"
# In a node server you can access it in the following way:
process.env.MY_VARIABLE
now secret add acme-api-key my-value-here
now -e MY_VARIABLE=@acme-api-key
{
name: "myApp",
version: 2,
"env": {
"MY_VARIABLE": "@acme-api-key"
}
}


WeatherKit
Undocumented
-
Undocumented
-
Undocumented
See more
-
This method will get forecast info for a given location
Parameter
location The coordinates of the locatins searchingReturns
Forcast Object
Declaration
Swift
public func getForecast(_ location: CLLocationCoordinate2D, completion: @escaping WeatherClosure)
Return Value
Forcast Object
-
Start monitoring for location services. Once it starts monitoring location it will get forecast info and save to database
Declaration
Swift
public func startLocation(_ completion: WeatherClosure? = nil)
-
Lets you search for placemarkes based off of address
Parameter
address The address you are searching forParameter
completion The completion blockDeclaration
Swift
public func search(address: String, completion: @escaping WeatherClosure)
-
Saves the given forecast to the database
Parameter
forecast The forecast that will be saved to the databaseDeclaration
Swift
public func save(forecast: Forecast)
-
Deletes the given forecast from the database
Parameter
forecast The forecast that will be deleted from the databaseDeclaration
Swift
public func delete(forecast: Forecast)


| 048:021 Khan | : |
And other (victories and much booty there are, He promises you) which are not yet within your power, indeed Allah compasses them, And Allah is Ever Able to do all things. |
| 048:021 Maulana | : |
And others which you have not yet been able to achieve -- Allah has surely encompassed them. And Allah is ever Powerful over all things. |
| 048:021 Pickthal | : |
And other (gain), which ye have not been able to achieve, Allah will compass it, Allah is Able to do all things. |
| 048:021 Rashad | : |
As for the group that you could not possibly defeat, GOD took care of them; GOD is Omnipotent. |
| 048:021 Sarwar | : |
Besides these, there were other gains which you could not receive, but God has full control over them. God has power over all things. |
| 048:021 Shakir | : |
And others which you have not yet been able to achieve Allah has surely encompassed them, and Allah has power over all things. |
| 048:021 Sherali | : |
And HE has promised you another victory which you have not been able to achieve yet, but ALLAH has, surely, compassed it. And ALLAH has power over all things. |
| 048:021 Yusufali | : |
And other gains (there are), which are not within your power, but which Allah has compassed: and Allah has power over all things. |
Concepts/Themes Covered: أركان الإسلام > التوحيد > توحيد الله تعالي > صفات الله تعالى > قديراً Pillars of Islam> Islamic> Oneness of Allah> His Glory's Characteristics> Ever All-Potent الجهاد > الجهاد في سبيل الإسلام > الدعوة إلى الجهاد Jihad> The Call to Jihad>The Call for the Holy War الجهاد > الغزوات > غزوة الحديبية وبيعة الرضوان Jihad> The Holy Battles> Al-Hudaibiah Battle and the Radwan Pledge of Allegiance الجهاد > نتائج الحرب > الغنائم والأنفال Jihad> The War Results> The Spoils and the Boots
This tool uses eight English parallel translations for the Holy Quran imported from Mr. Clay Smith. You can also visit Qurany Concepts for browsing the Quran themes or topics. If you want to search the Holy Quran for keywords, please visit Qurany Keywords.


"God's own Country.


 So why do we do it?
Recently I found myself idly complaining to my local beautician about my stresses: workload, flat-hunting and my car needing repairs. “Seems like the evil eye is looking at you, hun,” she said, cheerily ripping the hair from my shin.
 I grew up with the folklore but have always rejected superstition.
“Bit much, no?” I mentioned to Mum, later. “Me, describing a bad yet ordinary week, and her saying, ‘Oh you must be cursed, love.’”
“I wouldn’t worry,” Mum replied. “It’s a compliment.”
That’s because the evil eye is a malevolent glare cast at those with something beautiful, hard-won and excellent; their longing manifesting as a destructive curse. (As superstitions go, this must rank as one of the nicest. “Hey, has something gone wrong? That’s because you’re great.”)
After the salon came more bad news, more curveballs, and an accelerating to-do list. I was failing in my numerous roles – as love project manager, friend cheerleader, health aficionado. So when I found myself in A&E with a torn shoulder tendon and a doctor’s note telling me to stop everything at once, I felt relief. I had an excuse to step back.
No one asks me to do half the things on my list. My boyfriend does not ask me to plan every dinner. No one tells me to exercise. Mum couldn’t have asked me to set up a smart heating system for her, when she doesn’t know what it is. So why do we do it?
Perhaps we – women, especially – think we should. Or maybe the curse is a manifestation of fear, of knowing what is beautiful, hard-won and excellent in our lives, and that it can be easily lost. Perhaps my beautician was right. An evil eye did look at me, but it was my own eye all along.