"Torticollis occurs in about 1.3% of children," said author, Jeong-Min Hwang, MD, of Seoul National University College of Medicine. "Accurate measurement of the angle of the abnormal head position is crucial for evaluating disease progression and determining treatment or surgical plans in parties with ocular torticollis."

They set off for California, the land of plenty, jobs, and little white houses. They know there are jobs because Ole Tom, Tom’s dadhasa flyer that says there are. This is like the people who left the crowded east for land in the west, they loaded covered wagons.7Patricia Nelson Limerick tells us about the life of the pioneer, they left the crowded east to head west toward the promised land

He then called for his harpoon, had the wooden stock drawn from it, and then had the iron part placed in the coffin along with one of the paddles of his boat. All by his own request, also, biscuits were then ranged round the sides within; a flask of fresh water was placed at the head, and a small bag of woody earth scraped up in the hold at the foot; and a piece of sail-cloth being rolled up for a pillow, Queequeg now entreated to be lifted into his final bed, that he might make trial of its comforts, if any it had. He lay without moving a few minutes, then told one to go to his bed and bring out his little god, Yojo. Then crossing his arms on his breast with Yojo between, he called for the coffin lid (hatch he called it) to be placed over him. The head part turned over with a leather hinge, and there lay Queequeg in his coffin with little but his composed countenance in view. “Rarmai” (it will do; it is easy) he murmured at last, and signed to be replaced in his hammock

The best way to assign grades properly is to collect evidence of a student's accom­plishments so the teacher will have access to ample information before deciding whether to dish out an A, B, C, D, or F to a student.

This newspaper article details the story of an Indian family, Frank and Juanita Dick, eighteen and sixteen years old, and their baby, Domingo. At the baby’s birth, the "head men" of the Chuccsanoc tribe decried that the child was a messenger of ill luck and should die.

“You threw us under the bus!” she yelled at Mr. Stamos, according to people who were present.

why are the Low Energy NUCLEAR Reactions (re)searchers never trained NUCLEAR physicists?

Whether you’re new to off-road mountain biking or an expert rider looking for big thrills, there’s a Monster Trail that’s just right for you. Head to Winding Walks for extreme freeriding and the red-grade Fochabers Ring, or start at Ordiequish for slightly easier blue routes – and the mighty black Gully Monster. Start at Winding Walks, where the Monster Trails first began, for a great red cross-country trail and some extreme freeriding. The extreme features of the Fochabers Freeride were built almost entirely by volunteers and it’s a wild and scary ride! Take the fun and full-on cross-country Fochabers Ring to get you there – or just enjoy the red trail and keep the hairy stuff for another day… Alternatively, choose to start the Monster Trails at Ordiequish if you’re looking for some exciting blue routes – but don’t assume this is just an easy ride… Watch out for the Gully Monster, who lurks along the black trail! Check out the Moray Monster trail map (PDF 1.6MB) to plan your rides.

William E. Brown Jr. Head, Public Services The Bancroft Library May 2002

The data showed that men and women with identical academic credentials, publication records, and performance reviews, were still promoted at vastly different rates. Champine then visualized the data—in the form of a bar chart—and presented her findings to the head of her Directorate. He was “shocked at the disparity,” Shetterly reports, and Darden received the promotion she had long deserved.

The ancient owls' nest must have burned. Hastily, all alone, a glistening armadillo left the scene, rose-flecked, head down, tail down,

‘-n [-]num’ ‘--lines=[-]num’ Output the first num lines.

‘-c [-]num’ ‘--bytes=[-]num’ Print the first num bytes, instead of initial lines.

Before Ro’s death he called Mav saying that “it is of great importance that you meet me soon”. Ro was always an inquisitive guy, always had to make sure he knew all the details of every event. When Ro and Mav were deployed Ro would spend hours and hours briefing and rebriefing himself as to the nature of their operation. It often got to a point were Mav would have to take away the mission docket from Ro in order for him to get some sleep. After they both were allowed to return home Mav began a life of seclusion and introspection whereas Ro began digging, into what Mav didn’t initially know. As it would turn out Ro had been looking into why they, Mav and Ro’s squad, had been deployed as a special operations unit against the Cavalier Republic government on Callisto. In doing this Ro had come to find that the operation on Callisto had been ordered by a certain Senator Lin Adams who just so happened to personally benefit from what transpired. Lin Adams had long since owned property on Callisto however, with the growing value of liquid water as a commodity both on earth and as a resource in space travel Adams desired more property. As a result of what occurred on Callisto Adams was able to acquire nearly triple the amount of property he previously owned and was now making substantial profit off it without having to pay either taxes or land application costs. Ro found this information out and was beyond angry and set about attempting to blackmail Senator Adams for reparations to the families who lost sons and daughters during the conflict on Callisto.

Ask the ExpertHome > Health > Articles & Answers > Ask the Expert /* multiversion config required for jquery shim */ var pbr = require.config({ baseUrl: 'https://www.hopkinsmedicine.org/lib/js/', waitSeconds: 30, paths: { googlemaps: 'https://maps.googleapis.com/maps/api/js?key=AIzaSyBmKUbQ04HMRw-JGyqFKHRODAo_MNusmac', jquery: 'jquery-1.11.3.min', modalHome:'jquery.modalHome.min', photobooks:'photobooks.min' }, shim: { modalHome: ['jquery'], photobooks: ['jquery','modalHome', 'googlemaps'] } }); pbr(['domready!','modalHome','photobooks'], function(d, h, p){ }); require(['domready!','jquery','googlemaps'], function() { $('a.profile').on('click', function(e) { var hL = this.href; e.preventDefault(); // custom logic for mobile red if (this.href.match(window.location.hostname) === null) { var path = (this.pathname.charAt(0) === "/") ? this.pathname : "/" + this.pathname; hL = window.location.protocol + '//' + this.hostname.replace(this.hostname, window.location.hostname) + path + '/'; } hL = hL.replace(/\s/g,"%20"); $().modalHome('ajax',{ url: hL + "/?modalPref=true", success: function () { jhmJSMain.jhmPhotobooksInt.setProfileLayout(); jhmJSMain.jhmPhotobooksInt.setProfileModalAddThis( hL ); profileMapView(); } }); }); }); .mainBodyContentData {margin:0;} .SEImage img, .SEContent_Image img, .SEMain_Image img, .promo-icon img, .featured img {height:auto;} .hide-section-menu {display:none;} #lifestyle-article img { max-width: 100%; height: auto; } How to Perform a Testicular Self-Exam: Advice from Urologist Philip Pierorazio <!-- // require(['domready!','jquery'],function(d,$){ if (typeof changeTextSize == 'undefined' || !$.isFunction(changeTextSize)) { function changeTextSize(sheetIndex){ $("head link[href*=fontSize]").remove(); $("head").append('<link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="' + ["/sebin/p/v/fontSizeSmall.css","/sebin/p/x/fontSizeMedium.css","/sebin/t/d/fontSizeLarge.css"][sheetIndex] + '"/>'); } } fontSize = function() {} fontSize.level = -1; fontSize.change = function(direction){ switch (direction){ case "+": fontSize.level++; break; case "-": fontSize.level--; break; } if (fontSize.level > 1) fontSize.level = 1; if (fontSize.level < -1) fontSize.level = -1; switch (fontSize.level){ case -1: $("#fontsize").css("background-position", "0px -17px"); $("#fontsize a.minus").removeAttr("href"); changeTextSize(0); break; case 0: $("#fontsize").css("background-position", "0px 0px"); $("#fontsize a.minus").attr("href", "javascript:fontSize.change('-');"); $("#fontsize a.plus").attr("href", "javascript:fontSize.change('+');"); changeTextSize(1); break; case 1: $("#fontsize").css("background-position", "0px -34px"); $("#fontsize a.plus").removeAttr("href"); changeTextSize(2); break; } } }); // --> Reviewed By: Phillip Martin Pierorazio, M.D. Testicular cancer is one of the most common cancers among young men, yet many are unfamiliar with the disease and how easily they can play a role in detecting it. To help, testicular cancer expert Philip Pierorazio from the Brady Urological Institute explains how — and why — you should perform regular self-checks. Why should I check my testicles for cancer? Some experts doubt the usefulness of testicular self-exams, but these checkups can help men catch testicular cancer early. Although survival rates for all stages of the disease are relatively high, patients diagnosed later often undergo chemotherapy and radiation, which have unpleasant side effects. You should perform self-exams to spot cancer so it can be removed with surgery alone. How do I perform a testicular self-exam? Before you start, get to know your anatomy. Here are two things to keep in mind: Don't worry if one testicle is bigger than the other or hangs lower. That’s normal. It's easy to mistake the epididymis for an unusual mass. The epididymis is a coiled set of tubes that lines the back and top of each testicle. It’s the portion of the reproductive system where the sperm “mature” or learn to swim. It will feel softer and bumpier than the testicle it's attached to. Here's how to perform a self-exam: Set aside five minutes while you're in the shower. A warm shower will relax the scrotum and the muscles holding the testicles, making an exam easier. Starting with one side, gently roll the scrotum with your fingers to feel the surface of the testicle. Check for any lumps, bumps or unusual features. Contrary to what many assume, cancerous tumors typically aren't painful. Make note of any changes in size over time. While the most common symptom of testicular cancer is a painless mass, some men experience swelling of the testicles and scrotum. Be aware of any dull soreness or heaviness. Switch sides and check the other testicle. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['vw._setAccount', 'UA-561229-1']); _gaq.push(['vw._trackEvent', 'Video Widget', 'Inline Full Width', 'HauXIlDQ36Q', 1, true]); // widget code below Programming Cancer Cells to Self-Destruct | Science: Out of the Box Johns Hopkins biomedical engineer Jordan Green talks about a goal of his research: making nanoparticles that could program cancer cells to self-destruct.Discover more videos. What should I do if I find something? See your doctor as soon as you can. On average, men wait between four and six months to make an appointment, which could allow the cancer to spread. No guy is particularly thrilled about discussing his testicles, but there’s no reason to feel embarrassed. Your doctor has seen plenty before, and the conversation could save your life. Plus, your visit won’t be half as bad as you think. Your physician will perform a quick exam, ask you about your symptoms and send you to get an ultrasound, which is a painless, radiation-free diagnostic procedure. How often should I check? It’s recommended that you perform a self-exam once a month. By checking regularly, you’ll have an easier time noticing when something has changed. Most men are intimately aware of their genitalia and any changes that occur. The most important lesson is that if you feel something abnormal, seek a professional opinion right away. What else could a testicular lump be? Fortunately, most testicular masses are not cancer. Even so, any change or irregularity in the scrotum or testicles requires a visit to your doctor. While benign, the following testicular conditions can cause intense discomfort and threaten fertility: Cysts (can form in the testicle, epididymis or structures around the testicle) Infection Injury Varicocele Hydrocele (collection of fluid around the testis)

What none of them had noticed was that the fire from the generators had spread to the spaceship through the wires and all of a sudden part of the spaceship blew off too! The ground shook and so did the walls of the room. A part of the top of the spaceship that was hung attached to the roof of the room broke and fell directly on top of the governor who noticed it a bit too late. The general saw this and pushed Rafatul’s father off himself. Brining out his gun really quick, the general called for the guards who were still trying to put off the fire. Rafatul’s father charged for the general again but got shot right in the head by the general. Another huge explosion went off in the thrusters of the spaceship and the general slipped and fell to the floor. Chunks of debris were falling from the roof of the room which meant that it wasn’t going to hold out for long.

cry “Here!” and “Here!”    and wake us here where are    unwanted love, conceit and war? The crown of red set on your little head is charged with all your fighting blood. Yes, that excrescence makes a most virile presence, plus all that vulgar beauty of iridescence.

Late that night, Yoon began. ““Let me all tell you a story. About a rebellion from the past.” Valerie said. The rest of the group turned their attention to her. “This is the story of a city. A city in the summer, baking in the sun, under a brutal dictatorship. A military government, that liked to show off its power and its weapons more than anything else. The city was getting restless. Citizens were meeting, and conspiring. Young men were picking fights with officers, and women were spreading the truth to each other. The people were coming to see that their lives were unjust, and that their government was too. But the government saw this. And they knew they couldn’t let this keep on. But they weren’t sure how to clamp down. One day, they sent a small regimen of tanks, along with some foot soldiers, through the city. Just to keep an eye out. But things turned ugly. The foot soldiers got into a fight with a group of students. And two of those students ended up dead.  The fever of the city broke. They rose up and fought back. They killed the soldiers, and took control of the officer’s center of the city. They seized weapons. More died, and they buried their dead. They gained control of the city.” The group were all settled, serious, listening. Cleo rested her head against Valerie’s shoulder. Yoon continued. “When the dictator heard this news, he grew furious. Use all the force needed, he said. Bring the city to heel. The people of the government decided that if the people of that city were not gonna act as an example for how a city should act, they were gonna serve as a different example. For what happens when people step out of line. The government sent tanks, and armored vehicles, and thousands of soldiers, to surround the city. The city folk almost never stood a chance. But they did not give in. For days, they held the city. At the borders there was violence. There was student armed with a rifle against a team of trained soldiers. There were tanks slowly grinding forward, crushing anyone in their path. But in heart of the city, there was something beautiful. Those who could not fight tended to the wounded. They held burials for the dead, where mothers one last time embraced their children. They sang, and they wept. They shared food, they shared their homes. And though the forces from without were encroaching, within there was a c

Every night that Cleo spent at in the community halls felt like entering a different world, and she loved it more each time. The heavy air, the warmth, the crush of people. It was overwhelming, almost, for her senses, and that sent a thrill through her gut. Sometimes before she met up with the rest of the group she would lean against a wall, with a mug of coffee, just people watching. Watching a masked young woman walk through the hall with purpose, handing out leaflets. Watch a man, head in the clouds, bump over one of the waste baskets, groan, and then pick up and put back all the trash, with a wrinkled nose. Watched a group of young people, each holding a rifle pointed towards the ground, singing some revolutionary chant. A few others in the street joined in. Cleo loved everything about it. One night as she watched, James silently came up and joined her. Cleo didn’t know how long, but they stood silently, warm, and observed people passing. James smoked, Cleo drank her coffee.“This is what makes it worth it,” Cleo had said, as James stubbed out his cigarette. He had smiled in response. “Come on, let’s join the others.” He pulled her by the hand into the flow of the street, and they walked together, comfortable, quiet.

Each at the Head Level'd his deadly aime; thir fatall hands No second stroke intend, and such a frown Each cast at th' other, as when two black Clouds With Heav'ns Artillery fraught, come rattling on [ 715 ] Over the Caspian, then stand front to front Hov'ring a space, till Winds the signal blow To join thir dark Encounter in mid air: So frownd the mighty Combatants, that Hell Grew darker at thir frown, so matcht they stood; [ 720 ] For never but once more was either like To meet so great a foe:

The stedfast Earth. At last his Sail-broad Vannes He spreads for flight, and in the surging smoak Uplifted spurns the ground, thence many a League As in a cloudy Chair ascending rides [ 930 ] Audacious, but that seat soon failing, meets A vast vacuitie: all unawares Fluttring his pennons vain plumb down he drops Ten thousand fadom deep, and to this hour Down had been falling, had not by ill chance [ 935 ] The strong rebuff of som tumultuous cloud Instinct with Fire and Nitre hurried him As many miles aloft: that furie stay'd, Quencht in a Boggy Syrtis, neither Sea, Nor good dry Land: nigh founderd on he fares, [ 940 ] Treading the crude consistence, half on foot, Half flying; behoves him now both Oare and Saile. As when a Gryfon through the Wilderness With winged course ore Hill or moarie Dale, Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stelth [ 945 ] Had from his wakeful custody purloind The guarded Gold: So eagerly the fiend Ore bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare, With head, hands, wings, or feet pursues his way, And swims or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flyes

“If the White Whale be raised, it must be in a month and a day, when the sun stands in some one of these signs. I’ve studied signs, and know their marks; they were taught me two score years ago, by the old witch in Copenhagen. Now, in what sign will the sun then be? The horse-shoe sign; for there it is, right opposite the gold. And what’s the horse-shoe sign? The lion is the horse-shoe sign- the roaring and devouring lion. Ship, old ship! my old head shakes to think of thee.”

this doubloon was of purest, virgin gold, raked somewhere out of the heart of gorgeous hills, whence, east and west, over golden sands, the head-waters of many a Pactolus flows. And though now nailed amidst all the rustiness of iron bolts and the verdigris of copper spikes, yet, untouchable and immaculate to any foulness, it still preserved its Quito glow. Nor, though placed amongst a ruthless crew and every hour passed by ruthless hands, and through the livelong nights shrouded with thick darkness which might cover any pilfering approach, nevertheless every sunrise found the doubloon where the sunset last left it. For it was set apart and sanctified to one awe-striking end; and however wanton in their sailor ways, one and all, the mariners revered it as the white whale’s talisman. Sometimes they talked it over in the weary watch by night, wondering whose it was to be at last, and whether he would ever live to spend it. Now those noble golden coins of South America are as medals of the sun and tropic token-pieces. Here palms, alpacas, and volcanoes; sun’s disks and stars, ecliptics, horns-of-plenty, and rich banners waving, are in luxuriant profusion stamped; so that the precious gold seems almost to derive an added preciousness and enhancing glories, by passing through those fancy mints, so Spanishly poetic. It so chanced that the doubloon of the Pequod was a most wealthy example of these things. On its round border it bore the letters, REPUBLICA DEL ECUADOR: QUITO. So this bright coin came from a country planted in the middle of the world, and beneath the great equator, and named after it; and it had been cast midway up the Andes, in the unwaning clime that knows no autumn. Zoned by those letters you saw the likeness of three Andes’ summits; from one a flame; a tower on another; on the third a crowing cock; while arching over all was a segment of the partitioned zodiac, the signs all marked with their usual cabalistics, and the keystone sun entering the equinoctial point at Libra.

So stretcht out huge in length the Arch-fiend layChain'd on the burning Lake, nor ever thence [ 210 ]Had ris'n or heav'd his head, but that the willAnd high permission of all-ruling HeavenLeft him at large to his own dark designs,

Toyin, 33, is a striking beauty with a shaved head, a barely visible gold nose ring, and many delicate tattoos on her bare arms. She’s outspoken, direct, and full of humor

Because she’s Nigerian, that shade, says Toyin, “is much deeper than you get in the American South. When I was growing up, our household was very patriarchal. People were happy when I was born, but when my brother was born, the whole village was involved. My father would tell my brother, ‘You have to do this or that because you’re carrying my name.’ My mom would take me aside and say, ‘I don’t care what your father says, you’re carrying my name. You got the Ojih.’ ” In 2015, Toyin officially added the “Ojih” to “Odutola.”

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Mark comes in and I give him a huge hug. “Eric you looked better in the projected beam when Sandra had entered metallic room in front of me” I chuckled. Mark looks into his phone and scans it the both of us staring at him, “Are we summoned to the Feral Bureau again?” He nodded his head, “Well certainly not’ but who is ready for a new adventure?” He left us on a cliffhanger, both of us wondering what the world ahead had for us.

Mark comes in and I give him a huge hug. “Eric you looked better in the projected beam when Sandra had entered metallic room in front of me” I chuckled. Mark looks into his phone and scans it the both of us staring at him, “Are we summoned to the Feral Bureau again?” He nodded his head, “Well certainly not’ but who is ready for a new adventure?” He left us on a cliffhanger, both of us wondering what the world ahead had for us.

Oh! It's then I realize that I am locked up to the metallic ceiling and not  just a wall, where the floor is heated up and probably the sensors would be detecting as soon as I'd step on the floor. I think hard and analyze the room, empty with strong neon lights on the ceiling which I was locked to and luckily on of it right above my head; with no windows just one door that too didn't have any knobs or slits to it and a small exhaust turbo to the opposite corner.

She laughs dejectedly at that. “Right, the mercs I had to practically force to let me join their mission. Funny. You guys’re probably headed right back to Elysium.”    Rex hangs his head. “Okay, yeah, at the beginning you were a pain in my ass. But you’ve grown on me. On all of us. We aren’t leaving you any time soon.”    Well if she wasn’t crying before, she certainly is now. She has not done anything to deserve this.“Hey, don’t cry. I was tryin’ to make you happier!”Hallux sniffles. “I ‘ppreciate it. But I think the only thing that’s go

Early that morning at 6, when we had checked out, the six bald men were sitting on folding chairs in the dim hotel lobby. The television was on. Most of them were awake. You might drown in your own spittle, God knows, at any time; you might wake up dead in a small hotel, a cabbage head watching TV while snows pile up in the passes, watching TV while the chili peppers smile and the moon passes over the sun and nothing changes and nothing is learned because you have lost your bucket and shovel and no longer care. What if you regain the surface and open your sack and find, instead of treasure, a beast which jumps at you? Or you may not come back at all. The winches may jam, the scaffolding buckle, the air conditioning collapse. You may glance up one day and see by your headlamp the canary keeled over in its cage. You may reach into a cranny for pearls and touch a moray eel. You yank on your rope; it is too late.

I turned back to the sun. It was going. The sun was going, and the world was wrong. The grasses were wrong; they were platinum. Their every detail of stem, head, and blade shone lightless and artificially distinct as an art photographer’s platinum print. This color has never been seen on Earth. The hues were metallic; their finish was matte. The hillside was a 19th-century tinted photograph from which the tints had faded. All the people you see in the photograph, distinct and detailed as their faces look, are now dead. The sky was navy blue. My hands were silver. All the distant hills’ grasses were finespun metal which the wind laid down. I was watching a faded color print of a movie filmed in the Middle Ages; I was standing in it, by some mistake. I was standing in a movie of hillside grasses filmed in the Middle Ages. I missed my own century, the people I knew, and the real light of day.

“What is he talking about, there’s no-” “Haha he’s really checked out from reality this ti-”“A community? Do you guys think-”“The fame must have gotten to his head lmao I ca-”“What he’s talking about is real, I know someone who-”

Hernandez’s last days were marked by aggression, memory loss and impulsiveness, but it was only after his death that his loved ones got some insight into why. He was given a post-mortem diagnosis of chronic traumatic encephalopathy ― a progressive brain disease linked to repetitive head trauma, the kind that can accompany rough sports, military service or abuse.

You already know this. I just need to remind you. Think back. Think back to first or second grade, when you could still hear the sound of your own voice in your head, when you were too young, too unformed, too fantastic to understand that you were supposed to take on the protective coloration of the expectations of those around you.

Adolescence and young adulthood areperiods in the human life course when many of us focus attention on our values and life goals

master patted the curly head, and chucked him under the chin.

“Come here, Jim Crow,” said he. The child came up, and the master patted the curly head, and chucked him under the chin. “Now, Jim, show this gentleman how you can dance and sing.”

If it were your Harry, mother, or your Willie, that were going to be torn from you by a brutal trader, tomorrow morning,—if you had seen the man, and heard that the papers were signed and delivered, and you had only from twelve o’clock till morning to make good your escape,—how fast could you walk? How many miles could you make in those few brief hours, with the darling at your bosom,—the little sleepy head on your shoulder,—the small, soft arms trustingly holding on to your neck?

“I always thought that I must obey my master and mistress, or I couldn’t be a Christian.”

He was waited upon over the factory, shown the machinery by George, who, in high spirits, talked so fluently, held himself so erect, looked so handsome and manly, that his master began to feel an uneasy consciousness of inferiority. What business had his slave to be marching round the country, inventing machines, and holding up his head among gentlemen? He’d soon put a stop to it. He’d take him back, and put him to hoeing and digging, and “see if he’d step about so smart.” Accordingly, the manufacturer and all hands concerned were astounded when he suddenly demanded George’s wages, and announced his intention of taking him home.

If it were your Harry, mother, or your Willie, that were going to be torn from you by a brutal trader, tomorrow morning,—if you had seen the man, and heard that the papers were signed and delivered, and you had only from twelve o’clock till morning to make good your escape,—how fast could you walk? How many miles could you make in those few brief hours, with the darling at your bosom,—the little sleepy head on your shoulder,—the small, soft arms trustingly holding on to your neck?

He was waited upon over the factory, shown the machinery by George, who, in high spirits, talked so fluently, held himself so erect, looked so handsome and manly, that his master began to feel an uneasy consciousness of inferiority. What business had his slave to be marching round the country, inventing machines, and holding up his head among gentlemen? He’d soon put a stop to it. He’d take him back, and put him to hoeing and digging, and “see if he’d step about so smart.” Accordingly, the manufacturer and all hands concerned were astounded when he suddenly demanded George’s wages, and announced his intention of taking him home.

Hulloa, Jim Crow!” said Mr. Shelby, whistling, and snapping a bunch of raisins towards him, “pick that up, now!” The child scampered, with all his little strength, after the prize, while his master laughed. “Come here, Jim Crow,” said he. The child came up, and the master patted the curly head, and chucked him under the chin. “Now, Jim, show this gentleman how you can dance and sing.”

“I would have liked to have done things like playing more with her PTSD, maybe having things like twisted versions of sequences of the first game that you have to replay, because she’s always replaying them in her head, and they end in different ways that you didn’t see in the first game, and trying to reflect aspects of PTSD,”

The future in the past is fixed forever

a vegetarian with a shaved head (remember, this was 1919!)

Create a note by selecting some text and clicking the button

These changes will create a worldwide need for a reexamination of the way in which education is delivered to students (Wagner, Hassanein & Head, 2008).

Toward constructivism for adult learners in online learning environments

I am given up by traitors,I talk wildly, I have lost my wits, I and nobody else am the greatest traitor,

This post I want to take the time to interview another freshman player, Adam Freese, and ask him questions about what it means to him to play for Stonehill, and what being a college athlete takes. SJ: What keeps you going everyday even though each practice is hard, and intense? AF: “Wanting to get better, and my determination to get better. I also like to take on challenges head on.” SJ: How do you prepare for a game or scrimmage? Any pregame rituals? AF: “I need to get a good nights sleep, and I eat a nice meal, and I make sure that I keep my head focused on the game and the task ahead of me. I avoid all distractions throughout the day.” SJ: How do you prepare yourself for a season in general? How are your offseason workouts? AF: “I understand that the season is going to be long and rough, but I always mentally prepare myself for it first. I understand that adversity is going to hit, and I find ways to overcome adversity on an everyday basis. I also know that the work that I put in during the offseason will pay off during the regular season. So, by giving my offseason workouts everything that I have I know that the effort I put in will pay off during my regular season.” SJ: What is your favorite part about being a college athlete? More specifically a Stonehill Skyhawk? AF: “Simply put, living out the reality of playing sports, and going to school for free is one of the most rewarding feelings in the world. At Stonehill we take sports seriously, and the love for competition excites me at Stonehill, and that is why I love being a Stonehill Skyhawk. SJ: What are the big differences that you have noticed between high school basketball, and college basketball? AF: “College basketball is a much more intense, and fast paced game than high – school basketball. College basketball is also much more time – consuming as well. SJ: How do you recover, after a game or practice? AF: Icing is critical for me whether it is before or after any main event. I always take precautionary measures after any practice as well.

thinking of all the nowheres to go to lay his head down tonight

You have ever had a net in the driveway, front lawn or on your head at McDonald's, send $20. You ever imagined Angelina Jolie in fishnets, $20. So you stay home and eat on the dinette. You'll live

FOIL SHAVERS: These are characterized by straight heads that use oscillating blades. Blades for these shavers are beneath the foil – so blades don’t get direct contact with the skin thus reduce chances of getting nicks and cuts when shaving. A foil is a thin layer of metal – with holes that form a mesh pattern. Now when the shavers head goes over your beard, the foil lifts the hairs from the skin and exposes them to the cutters beneath the foil. This explains why you will never get 100% close shave with foil electric shavers. But they are the best shavers for sensitive skins.

The air swam with the fine, poisonous particles

Comparing the two, I can easily see how Melville uses a sense of dramatic irony to keep the reader in tow with the story while also trying to sell a slave narrative. He plays on our understanding of the story as we read it and eventually develops it into something that flips on its head.

eventually develops it into something that flips on its head.

eventually develops it into something that flips on its head.

eventually develops it into something that flips on its head.

flips on its head.

identifying the features of environments that build consequential connections ratherthan the “in the head” work (for example, knowing who controls the judiciary branch orwhich party holds the majority in the U.S. Senate) that very often draws attention withindebates about the state of civic education or youth political participation

When social fears become overwhelming, it is important toremember that effective treatments are available to improve one’s quality of life

I keep as delicate around the bowels as around the head and heart, Copulation is no more rank to me than death is

The final filling, retouching, and control of the surface was done when the facsimile was in its final position and with the lighting that exists in the refectory

without bumping into Mona Lisa addicts.

a sort of Castilian Rothschild, with a noble brother, or cousin, in every great trading town

The advancing speck was observed by the blacks. Their shouts attracted the attention of Don Benito, who, with a return of courtesy, approaching Captain Delano, expressed satisfaction at the coming of some supplies, slight and temporary as they must necessarily prove. Captain Delano responded; but while doing so, his attention was drawn to something passing on the deck below: among the crowd climbing the landward bulwarks, anxiously watching the coming boat, two blacks, to all appearances accidentally incommoded by one of the sailors, violently pushed him aside, which the sailor someway resenting, they dashed him to the deck, despite the earnest cries of the oakum-pickers. “Don Benito,” said Captain Delano quickly, “do you see what is going on there? Look!” But, seized by his cough, the Spaniard staggered, with both hands to his face, on the point of falling. Captain Delano would have supported him, but the servant was more alert, who, with one hand sustaining his master, with the other applied the cordial. Don Benito restored, the black withdrew his support, slipping aside a little, but dutifully remaining within call of a whisper. Such discretion was here evinced as quite wiped away, in the visitor’s eyes, any blemish of impropriety which might have attached to the attendant, from the indecorous conferences before mentioned; showing, too, that if the servant were to blame, it might be more the master’s fault than his own, since, when left to himself, he could conduct thus well. His glance called away from the spectacle of disorder to the more pleasing one before him, Captain Delano could not avoid again congratulating his host upon possessing such a servant, who, though perhaps a little too forward now and then, must upon the whole be invaluable to one in the invalid’s situation. “Tell me, Don Benito,” he added, with a smile–“I should like to have your man here, myself–what will you take for him? Would fifty doubloons be any object?” “Master wouldn’t part with Babo for a thousand doubloons,” murmured the black, overhearing the offer, and taking it in earnest, and, with the strange vanity of a faithful slave, appreciated by his master, scorning to hear so paltry a valuation put upon him by a stranger. But Don Benito, apparently hardly yet completely restored, and again interrupted by his cough, made but some broken reply. Soon his physical distress became so great, affecting his mind, too, apparently, that, as if to screen the sad spectacle, the servant gently conducted his master below. Left to himself, the American, to while away the time till his boat should arrive, would have pleasantly accosted some one of the few Spanish seamen he saw; but recalling something that Don Benito had said touching their ill conduct, he refrained; as a shipmaster indisposed to countenance cowardice or unfaithfulness in seamen. While, with these thoughts, standing with eye directed forward towards that handful of sailors, suddenly he thought that one or two of them returned the glance and with a sort of meaning. He rubbed his eyes, and looked again; but again seemed to see the same thing. Under a new form, but more obscure than any previous one, the old suspicions recurred, but, in the absence of Don Benito, with less of panic than before. Despite the bad account given of the sailors, Captain Delano resolved forthwith to accost one of them. Descending the poop, he made his way through the blacks, his movement drawing a queer cry from the oakum-pickers, prompted by whom, the negroes, twitching each other aside, divided before him; but, as if curious to see what was the object of this deliberate visit to their Ghetto, closing in behind, in tolerable order, followed the white stranger up. His progress thus proclaimed as by mounted kings-at-arms, and escorted as by a Caffre guard of honor, Captain Delano, assuming a good-humored, off-handed air, continued to advance; now and then saying a blithe word to the negroes, and his eye curiously surveying the white faces, here and there sparsely mixed in with the blacks, like stray white pawns venturously involved in the ranks of the chess-men opposed. While thinking which of them to select for his purpose, he chanced to observe a sailor seated on the deck engaged in tarring the strap of a large block, a circle of blacks squatted round him inquisitively eying the process. The mean employment of the man was in contrast with something superior in his figure. His hand, black with continually thrusting it into the tar-pot held for him by a negro, seemed not naturally allied to his face, a face which would have been a very fine one but for its haggardness. Whether this haggardness had aught to do with criminality, could not be determined; since, as intense heat and cold, though unlike, produce like sensations, so innocence and guilt, when, through casual association with mental pain, stamping any visible impress, use one seal–a hacked one. Not again that this reflection occurred to Captain Delano at the time, charitable man as he was. Rather another idea. Because observing so singular a haggardness combined with a dark eye, averted as in trouble and shame, and then again recalling Don Benito’s confessed ill opinion of his crew, insensibly he was operated upon by certain general notions which, while disconnecting pain and abashment from virtue, invariably link them with vice. If, indeed, there be any wickedness on board this ship, thought Captain Delano, be sure that man there has fouled his hand in it, even as now he fouls it in the pitch. I don’t like to accost him. I will speak to this other, this old Jack here on the windlass. He advanced to an old Barcelona tar, in ragged red breeches and dirty night-cap, cheeks trenched and bronzed, whiskers dense as thorn hedges. Seated between two sleepy-looking Africans, this mariner, like his younger shipmate, was employed upon some rigging–splicing a cable–the sleepy-looking blacks performing the inferior function of holding the outer parts of the ropes for him. Upon Captain Delano’s approach, the man at once hung his head below its previous level; the one necessary for business. It appeared as if he desired to be thought absorbed, with more than common fidelity, in his task. Being addressed, he glanced up, but with what seemed a furtive, diffident air, which sat strangely enough on his weather-beaten visage, much as if a grizzly bear, instead of growling and biting, should simper and cast sheep’s eyes. He was asked several questions concerning the voyage–questions purposely referring to several particulars in Don Benito’s narrative, not previously corroborated by those impulsive cries greeting the visitor on first coming on board. The questions were briefly answered, confirming all that remained to be confirmed of the story. The negroes about the windlass joined in with the old sailor; but, as they became talkative, he by degrees became mute, and at length quite glum, seemed morosely unwilling to answer more questions, and yet, all the while, this ursine air was somehow mixed with his sheepish one. Despairing of getting into unembarrassed talk with such a centaur, Captain Delano, after glancing round for a more promising countenance, but seeing none, spoke pleasantly to the blacks to make way for him; and so, amid various grins and grimaces, returned to the poop, feeling a little strange at first, he could hardly tell why, but upon the whole with regained confidence in Benito Cereno. How plainly, thought he, did that old whiskerando yonder betray a consciousness of ill desert. No doubt, when he saw me coming, he dreaded lest I, apprised by his Captain of the crew’s general misbehavior, came with sharp words for him, and so down with his head. And yet–and yet, now that I think of it, that very old fellow, if I err not, was one of those who seemed so earnestly eying me here awhile since. Ah, these currents spin one’s head round almost as much as they do the ship. Ha, there now’s a pleasant sort of sunny sight; quite sociable, too. His attention had been drawn to a slumbering negress, partly disclosed through the lacework of some rigging, lying, with youthful limbs carelessly disposed, under the lee of the bulwarks, like a doe in the shade of a woodland rock. Sprawling at her lapped breasts, was her wide-awake fawn, stark naked, its black little body half lifted from the deck, crosswise with its dam’s; its hands, like two paws, clambering upon her; its mouth and nose ineffectually rooting to get at the mark; and meantime giving a vexatious half-grunt, blending with the composed snore of the negress. The uncommon vigor of the child at length roused the mother. She started up, at a distance facing Captain Delano. But as if not at all concerned at the attitude in which she had been caught, delightedly she caught the child up, with maternal transports, covering it with kisses. There’s naked nature, now; pure tenderness and love, thought Captain Delano, well pleased. This incident prompted him to remark the other negresses more particularly than before. He was gratified with their manners: like most uncivilized women, they seemed at once tender of heart and tough of constitution; equally ready to die for their infants or fight for them. Unsophisticated as leopardesses; loving as doves. Ah! thought Captain Delano, these, perhaps, are some of the very women whom Ledyard saw in Africa, and gave such a noble account of. These natural sights somehow insensibly deepened his confidence and ease. At last he looked to see how his boat was getting on; but it was still pretty remote. He turned to see if Don Benito had returned; but he had not. To change the scene, as well as to please himself with a leisurely observation of the coming boat, stepping over into the mizzen-chains, he clambered his way into the starboard quarter-gallery–one of those abandoned Venetian-looking water-balconies previously mentioned–retreats cut off from the deck. As his foot pressed the half-damp, half-dry sea-mosses matting the place, and a chance phantom cats-paw–an islet of breeze, unheralded, unfollowed–as this ghostly cats-paw came fanning his cheek; as his glance fell upon the row of small, round dead-lights–all closed like coppered eyes of the coffined–and the state-cabin door, once connecting with the gallery, even as the dead-lights had once looked out upon it, but now calked fast like a sarcophagus lid; and to a purple-black tarred-over, panel, threshold, and post; and he bethought him of the time, when that state-cabin and this state-balcony had heard the voices of the Spanish king’s officers, and the forms of the Lima viceroy’s daughters had perhaps leaned where he stood–as these and other images flitted through his mind, as the cats-paw through the calm, gradually he felt rising a dreamy inquietude, like that of one who alone on the prairie feels unrest from the repose of the noon. He leaned against the carved balustrade, again looking off toward his boat; but found his eye falling upon the ribbon grass, trailing along the ship’s water-line, straight as a border of green box; and parterres of sea-weed, broad ovals and crescents, floating nigh and far, with what seemed long formal alleys between, crossing the terraces of swells, and sweeping round as if leading to the grottoes below. And overhanging all was the balustrade by his arm, which, partly stained with pitch and partly embossed with moss, seemed the charred ruin of some summer-house in a grand garden long running to waste. Trying to break one charm, he was but becharmed anew. Though upon the wide sea, he seemed in some far inland country; prisoner in some deserted château, left to stare at empty grounds, and peer out at vague roads, where never wagon or wayfarer passed. But these enchantments were a little disenchanted as his eye fell on the corroded main-chains. Of an ancient style, massy and rusty in link, shackle and bolt, they seemed even more fit for the ship’s present business than the one for which she had been built. Presently he thought something moved nigh the chains. He rubbed his eyes, and looked hard. Groves of rigging were about the chains; and there, peering from behind a great stay, like an Indian from behind a hemlock, a Spanish sailor, a marlingspike in his hand, was seen, who made what seemed an imperfect gesture towards the balcony, but immediately as if alarmed by some advancing step along the deck within, vanished into the recesses of the hempen forest, like a poacher. What meant this? Something the man had sought to communicate, unbeknown to any one, even to his captain. Did the secret involve aught unfavorable to his captain? Were those previous misgivings of Captain Delano’s about to be verified? Or, in his haunted mood at the moment, had some random, unintentional motion of the man, while busy with the stay, as if repairing it, been mistaken for a significant beckoning? Not unbewildered, again he gazed off for his boat. But it was temporarily hidden by a rocky spur of the isle. As with some eagerness he bent forward, watching for the first shooting view of its beak, the balustrade gave way before him like charcoal. Had he not clutched an outreaching rope he would have fallen into the sea. The crash, though feeble, and the fall, though hollow, of the rotten fragments, must have been overheard. He glanced up. With sober curiosity peering down upon him was one of the old oakum-pickers, slipped from his perch to an outside boom; while below the old negro, and, invisible to him, reconnoitering from a port-hole like a fox from the mouth of its den, crouched the Spanish sailor again. From something suddenly suggested by the man’s air, the mad idea now darted into Captain Delano’s mind, that Don Benito’s plea of indisposition, in withdrawing below, was but a pretense: that he was engaged there maturing his plot, of which the sailor, by some means gaining an inkling, had a mind to warn the stranger against; incited, it may be, by gratitude for a kind word on first boarding the ship. Was it from foreseeing some possible interference like this, that Don Benito had, beforehand, given such a bad character of his sailors, while praising the negroes; though, indeed, the former seemed as docile as the latter the contrary? The whites, too, by nature, were the shrewder race. A man with some evil design, would he not be likely to speak well of that stupidity which was blind to his depravity, and malign that intelligence from which it might not be hidden? Not unlikely, perhaps. But if the whites had dark secrets concerning Don Benito, could then Don Benito be any way in complicity with the blacks? But they were too stupid. Besides, who ever heard of a white so far a renegade as to apostatize from his very species almost, by leaguing in against it with negroes? These difficulties recalled former ones. Lost in their mazes, Captain Delano, who had now regained the deck, was uneasily advancing along it, when he observed a new face; an aged sailor seated cross-legged near the main hatchway. His skin was shrunk up with wrinkles like a pelican’s empty pouch; his hair frosted; his countenance grave and composed. His hands were full of ropes, which he was working into a large knot. Some blacks were about him obligingly dipping the strands for him, here and there, as the exigencies of the operation demanded. Captain Delano crossed over to him, and stood in silence surveying the knot; his mind, by a not uncongenial transition, passing from its own entanglements to those of the hemp. For intricacy, such a knot he had never seen in an American ship, nor indeed any other. The old man looked like an Egyptian priest, making Gordian knots for the temple of Ammon. The knot seemed a combination of double-bowline-knot, treble-crown-knot, back-handed-well-knot, knot-in-and-out-knot, and jamming-knot. At last, puzzled to comprehend the meaning of such a knot, Captain Delano addressed the knotter:– “What are you knotting there, my man?” “The knot,” was the brief reply, without looking up. “So it seems; but what is it for?” “For some one else to undo,” muttered back the old man, plying his fingers harder than ever, the knot being now nearly completed. While Captain Delano stood watching him, suddenly the old man threw the knot towards him, saying in broken English–the first heard in the ship–something to this effect: “Undo it, cut it, quick.” It was said lowly, but with such condensation of rapidity, that the long, slow words in Spanish, which had preceded and followed, almost operated as covers to the brief English between. For a moment, knot in hand, and knot in head, Captain Delano stood mute; while, without further heeding him, the old man was now intent upon other ropes. Presently there was a slight stir behind Captain Delano. Turning, he saw the chained negro, Atufal, standing quietly there. The next moment the old sailor rose, muttering, and, followed by his subordinate negroes, removed to the forward part of the ship, where in the crowd he disappeared. An elderly negro, in a clout like an infant’s, and with a pepper and salt head, and a kind of attorney air, now approached Captain Delano. In tolerable Spanish, and with a good-natured, knowing wink, he informed him that the old knotter was simple-witted, but harmless; often playing his odd tricks. The negro concluded by begging the knot, for of course the stranger would not care to be troubled with it. Unconsciously, it was handed to him. With a sort of congé, the negro received it, and, turning his back, ferreted into it like a detective custom-house officer after smuggled laces. Soon, with some African word, equivalent to pshaw, he tossed the knot overboard. All this is very queer now, thought Captain Delano, with a qualmish sort of emotion; but, as one feeling incipient sea-sickness, he strove, by ignoring the symptoms, to get rid of the malady. Once more he looked off for his boat. To his delight, it was now again in view, leaving the rocky spur astern. The sensation here experienced, after at first relieving his uneasiness, with unforeseen efficacy soon began to remove it. The less distant sight of that well-known boat–showing it, not as before, half blended with the haze, but with outline defined, so that its individuality, like a man’s, was manifest; that boat, Rover by name, which, though now in strange seas, had often pressed the beach of Captain Delano’s home, and, brought to its threshold for repairs, had familiarly lain there, as a Newfoundland dog; the sight of that household boat evoked a thousand trustful associations, which, contrasted with previous suspicions, filled him not only with lightsome confidence, but somehow with half humorous self-reproaches at his former lack of it. “What, I, Amasa Delano–Jack of the Beach, as they called me when a lad–I, Amasa; the same that, duck-satchel in hand, used to paddle along the water-side to the school-house made from the old hulk–I, little Jack of the Beach, that used to go berrying with cousin Nat and the rest; I to be murdered here at the ends of the earth, on board a haunted pirate-ship by a horrible Spaniard? Too nonsensical to think of! Who would murder Amasa Delano? His conscience is clean. There is some one above. Fie, fie, Jack of the Beach! you are a child indeed; a child of the second childhood, old boy; you are beginning to dote and drule, I’m afraid.” Light of heart and foot, he stepped aft, and there was met by Don Benito’s servant, who, with a pleasing expression, responsive to his own present feelings, informed him that his master had recovered from the effects of his coughing fit, and had just ordered him to go present his compliments to his good guest, Don Amasa, and say that he (Don Benito) would soon have the happiness to rejoin him. There now, do you mark that? again thought Captain Delano, walking the poop. What a donkey I was. This kind gentleman who here sends me his kind compliments, he, but ten minutes ago, dark-lantern in had, was dodging round some old grind-stone in the hold, sharpening a hatchet for me, I thought. Well, well; these long calms have a morbid effect on the mind, I’ve often heard, though I never believed it before. Ha! glancing towards the boat; there’s Rover; good dog; a white bone in her mouth. A pretty big bone though, seems to me.–What? Yes, she has fallen afoul of the bubbling tide-rip there. It sets her the other way, too, for the time. Patience. It was now about noon, though, from the grayness of everything, it seemed to be getting towards dusk. The calm was confirmed. In the far distance, away from the influence of land, the leaden ocean seemed laid out and leaded up, its course finished, soul gone, defunct. But the current from landward, where the ship was, increased; silently sweeping her further and further towards the tranced waters beyond. Still, from his knowledge of those latitudes, cherishing hopes of a breeze, and a fair and fresh one, at any moment, Captain Delano, despite present prospects, buoyantly counted upon bringing the San Dominick safely to anchor ere night. The distance swept over was nothing; since, with a good wind, ten minutes’ sailing would retrace more than sixty minutes, drifting. Meantime, one moment turning to mark “Rover” fighting the tide-rip, and the next to see Don Benito approaching, he continued walking the poop. Gradually he felt a vexation arising from the delay of his boat; this soon merged into uneasiness; and at last–his eye falling continually, as from a stage-box into the pit, upon the strange crowd before and below him, and, by-and-by, recognizing there the face–now composed to indifference–of the Spanish sailor who had seemed to beckon from the main-chains–something of his old trepidations returned. Ah, thought he–gravely enough–this is like the ague: because it went off, it follows not that it won’t come back. Though ashamed of the relapse, he could not altogether subdue it; and so, exerting his good-nature to the utmost, insensibly he came to a compromise. Yes, this is a strange craft; a strange history, too, and strange folks on board. But–nothing more. By way of keeping his mind out of mischief till the boat should arrive, he tried to occupy it with turning over and over, in a purely speculative sort of way, some lesser peculiarities of the captain and crew. Among others, four curious points recurred: First, the affair of the Spanish lad assailed with a knife by the slave boy; an act winked at by Don Benito. Second, the tyranny in Don Benito’s treatment of Atufal, the black; as if a child should lead a bull of the Nile by the ring in his nose. Third, the trampling of the sailor by the two negroes; a piece of insolence passed over without so much as a reprimand. Fourth, the cringing submission to their master, of all the ship’s underlings, mostly blacks; as if by the least inadvertence they feared to draw down his despotic displeasure. Coupling these points, they seemed somewhat contradictory. But what then, thought Captain Delano, glancing towards his now nearing boat–what then? Why, Don Benito is a very capricious commander. But he is not the first of the sort I have seen; though it’s true he rather exceeds any other. But as a nation–continued he in his reveries–these Spaniards are all an odd set; the very word Spaniard has a curious, conspirator, Guy-Fawkish twang to it. And yet, I dare say, Spaniards in the main are as good folks as any in Duxbury, Massachusetts. Ah good! At last “Rover” has come. As, with its welcome freight, the boat touched the side, the oakum-pickers, with venerable gestures, sought to restrain the blacks, who, at the sight of three gurried water-casks in its bottom, and a pile of wilted pumpkins in its bow, hung over the bulwarks in disorderly raptures. Don Benito, with his servant, now appeared; his coming, perhaps, hastened by hearing the noise. Of him Captain Delano sought permission to serve out the water, so that all might share alike, and none injure themselves by unfair excess. But sensible, and, on Don Benito’s account, kind as this offer was, it was received with what seemed impatience; as if aware that he lacked energy as a commander, Don Benito, with the true jealousy of weakness, resented as an affront any interference. So, at least, Captain Delano inferred. In another moment the casks were being hoisted in, when some of the eager negroes accidentally jostled Captain Delano, where he stood by the gangway; so, that, unmindful of Don Benito, yielding to the impulse of the moment, with good-natured authority he bade the blacks stand back; to enforce his words making use of a half-mirthful, half-menacing gesture. Instantly the blacks paused, just where they were, each negro and negress suspended in his or her posture, exactly as the word had found them–for a few seconds continuing so–while, as between the responsive posts of a telegraph, an unknown syllable ran from man to man among the perched oakum-pickers. While the visitor’s attention was fixed by this scene, suddenly the hatchet-polishers half rose, and a rapid cry came from Don Benito. Thinking that at the signal of the Spaniard he was about to be massacred, Captain Delano would have sprung for his boat, but paused, as the oakum-pickers, dropping down into the crowd with earnest exclamations, forced every white and every negro back, at the same moment, with gestures friendly and familiar, almost jocose, bidding him, in substance, not be a fool. Simultaneously the hatchet-polishers resumed their seats, quietly as so many tailors, and at once, as if nothing had happened, the work of hoisting in the casks was resumed, whites and blacks singing at the tackle. Captain Delano glanced towards Don Benito. As he saw his meagre form in the act of recovering itself from reclining in the servant’s arms, into which the agitated invalid had fallen, he could not but marvel at the panic by which himself had been surprised, on the darting supposition that such a commander, who, upon a legitimate occasion, so trivial, too, as it now appeared, could lose all self-command, was, with energetic iniquity, going to bring about his murder. The casks being on deck, Captain Delano was handed a number of jars and cups by one of the steward’s aids, who, in the name of his captain, entreated him to do as he had proposed–dole out the water. He complied, with republican impartiality as to this republican element, which always seeks one level, serving the oldest white no better than the youngest black; excepting, indeed, poor Don Benito, whose condition, if not rank, demanded an extra allowance. To him, in the first place, Captain Delano presented a fair pitcher of the fluid; but, thirsting as he was for it, the Spaniard quaffed not a drop until after several grave bows and salutes. A reciprocation of courtesies which the sight-loving Africans hailed with clapping of hands. Two of the less wilted pumpkins being reserved for the cabin table, the residue were minced up on the spot for the general regalement. But the soft bread, sugar, and bottled cider, Captain Delano would have given the whites alone, and in chief Don Benito; but the latter objected; which disinterestedness not a little pleased the American; and so mouthfuls all around were given alike to whites and blacks; excepting one bottle of cider, which Babo insisted upon setting aside for his master. Here it may be observed that as, on the first visit of the boat, the American had not permitted his men to board the ship, neither did he now; being unwilling to add to the confusion of the decks. Not uninfluenced by the peculiar good-humor at present prevailing, and for the time oblivious of any but benevolent thoughts, Captain Delano, who, from recent indications, counted upon a breeze within an hour or two at furthest, dispatched the boat back to the sealer, with orders for all the hands that could be spared immediately to set about rafting casks to the watering-place and filling them. Likewise he bade word be carried to his chief officer, that if, against present expectation, the ship was not brought to anchor by sunset, he need be under no concern; for as there was to be a full moon that night, he (Captain Delano) would remain on board ready to play the pilot, come the wind soon or late. As the two Captains stood together, observing the departing boat–the servant, as it happened, having just spied a spot on his master’s velvet sleeve, and silently engaged rubbing it out–the American expressed his regrets that the San Dominick had no boats; none, at least, but the unseaworthy old hulk of the long-boat, which, warped as a camel’s skeleton in the desert, and almost as bleached, lay pot-wise inverted amidships, one side a little tipped, furnishing a subterraneous sort of den for family groups of the blacks, mostly women and small children; who, squatting on old mats below, or perched above in the dark dome, on the elevated seats, were descried, some distance within, like a social circle of bats, sheltering in some friendly cave; at intervals, ebon flights of naked boys and girls, three or four years old, darting in and out of the den’s mouth. “Had you three or four boats now, Don Benito,” said Captain Delano, “I think that, by tugging at the oars, your negroes here might help along matters some. Did you sail from port without boats, Don Benito?” “They were stove in the gales, Señor.” “That was bad. Many men, too, you lost then. Boats and men. Those must have been hard gales, Don Benito.” “Past all speech,” cringed the Spaniard. “Tell me, Don Benito,” continued his companion with increased interest, “tell me, were these gales immediately off the pitch of Cape Horn?” “Cape Horn?–who spoke of Cape Horn?” “Yourself did, when giving me an account of your voyage,” answered Captain Delano, with almost equal astonishment at this eating of his own words, even as he ever seemed eating his own heart, on the part of the Spaniard. “You yourself, Don Benito, spoke of Cape Horn,” he emphatically repeated. The Spaniard turned, in a sort of stooping posture, pausing an instant, as one about to make a plunging exchange of elements, as from air to water. At this moment a messenger-boy, a white, hurried by, in the regular performance of his function carrying the last expired half hour forward to the forecastle, from the cabin time-piece, to have it struck at the ship’s large bell. “Master,” said the servant, discontinuing his work on the coat sleeve, and addressing the rapt Spaniard with a sort of timid apprehensiveness, as one charged with a duty, the discharge of which, it was foreseen, would prove irksome to the very person who had imposed it, and for whose benefit it was intended, “master told me never mind where he was, or how engaged, always to remind him to a minute, when shaving-time comes. Miguel has gone to strike the half-hour afternoon. It is now, master. Will master go into the cuddy?” “Ah–yes,” answered the Spaniard, starting, as from dreams into realities; then turning upon Captain Delano, he said that ere long he would resume the conversation. “Then if master means to talk more to Don Amasa,” said the servant, “why not let Don Amasa sit by master in the cuddy, and master can talk, and Don Amasa can listen, while Babo here lathers and strops.” “Yes,” said Captain Delano, not unpleased with this sociable plan, “yes, Don Benito, unless you had rather not, I will go with you.” “Be it so, Señor.” As the three passed aft, the American could not but think it another strange instance of his host’s capriciousness, this being shaved with such uncommon punctuality in the middle of the day. But he deemed it more than likely that the servant’s anxious fidelity had something to do with the matter; inasmuch as the timely interruption served to rally his master from the mood which had evidently been coming upon him. The place called the cuddy was a light deck-cabin formed by the poop, a sort of attic to the large cabin below. Part of it had formerly been the quarters of the officers; but since their death all the partitioning had been thrown down, and the whole interior converted into one spacious and airy marine hall; for absence of fine furniture and picturesque disarray of odd appurtenances, somewhat answering to the wide, cluttered hall of some eccentric bachelor-squire in the country, who hangs his shooting-jacket and tobacco-pouch on deer antlers, and keeps his fishing-rod, tongs, and walking-stick in the same corner. The similitude was heightened, if not originally suggested, by glimpses of the surrounding sea; since, in one aspect, the country and the ocean seem cousins-german. The floor of the cuddy was matted. Overhead, four or five old muskets were stuck into horizontal holes along the beams. On one side was a claw-footed old table lashed to the deck; a thumbed missal on it, and over it a small, meagre crucifix attached to the bulk-head. Under the table lay a dented cutlass or two, with a hacked harpoon, among some melancholy old rigging, like a heap of poor friars’ girdles. There were also two long, sharp-ribbed settees of Malacca cane, black with age, and uncomfortable to look at as inquisitors’ racks, with a large, misshapen arm-chair, which, furnished with a rude barber’s crotch at the back, working with a screw, seemed some grotesque engine of torment. A flag locker was in one corner, open, exposing various colored bunting, some rolled up, others half unrolled, still others tumbled. Opposite was a cumbrous washstand, of black mahogany, all of one block, with a pedestal, like a font, and over it a railed shelf, containing combs, brushes, and other implements of the toilet. A torn hammock of stained grass swung near; the sheets tossed, and the pillow wrinkled up like a brow, as if who ever slept here slept but illy, with alternate visitations of sad thoughts and bad dreams. The further extremity of the cuddy, overhanging the ship’s stern, was pierced with three openings, windows or port-holes, according as men or cannon might peer, socially or unsocially, out of them. At present neither men nor cannon were seen, though huge ring-bolts and other rusty iron fixtures of the wood-work hinted of twenty-four-pounders. Glancing towards the hammock as he entered, Captain Delano said, “You sleep here, Don Benito?” “Yes, Señor, since we got into mild weather.” “This seems a sort of dormitory, sitting-room, sail-loft, chapel, armory, and private closet all together, Don Benito,” added Captain Delano, looking round. “Yes, Señor; events have not been favorable to much order in my arrangements.” Here the servant, napkin on arm, made a motion as if waiting his master’s good pleasure. Don Benito signified his readiness, when, seating him in the Malacca arm-chair, and for the guest’s convenience drawing opposite one of the settees, the servant commenced operations by throwing back his master’s collar and loosening his cravat. There is something in the negro which, in a peculiar way, fits him for avocations about one’s person. Most negroes are natural valets and hair-dressers; taking to the comb and brush congenially as to the castinets, and flourishing them apparently with almost equal satisfaction. There is, too, a smooth tact about them in this employment, with a marvelous, noiseless, gliding briskness, not ungraceful in its way, singularly pleasing to behold, and still more so to be the manipulated subject of. And above all is the great gift of good-humor. Not the mere grin or laugh is here meant. Those were unsuitable. But a certain easy cheerfulness, harmonious in every glance and gesture; as though God had set the whole negro to some pleasant tune. When to this is added the docility arising from the unaspiring contentment of a limited mind and that susceptibility of blind attachment sometimes inhering in indisputable inferiors, one readily perceives why those hypochondriacs, Johnson and Byron–it may be, something like the hypochondriac Benito Cereno–took to their hearts, almost to the exclusion of the entire white race, their serving men, the negroes, Barber and Fletcher. But if there be that in the negro which exempts him from the inflicted sourness of the morbid or cynical mind, how, in his most prepossessing aspects, must he appear to a benevolent one? When at ease with respect to exterior things, Captain Delano’s nature was not only benign, but familiarly and humorously so. At home, he had often taken rare satisfaction in sitting in his door, watching some free man of color at his work or play. If on a voyage he chanced to have a black sailor, invariably he was on chatty and half-gamesome terms with him. In fact, like most men of a good, blithe heart, Captain Delano took to negroes, not philanthropically, but genially, just as other men to Newfoundland dogs. Hitherto, the circumstances in which he found the San Dominick had repressed the tendency. But in the cuddy, relieved from his former uneasiness, and, for various reasons, more sociably inclined than at any previous period of the day, and seeing the colored servant, napkin on arm, so debonair about his master, in a business so familiar as that of shaving, too, all his old weakness for negroes returned. Among other things, he was amused with an odd instance of the African love of bright colors and fine shows, in the black’s informally taking from the flag-locker a great piece of bunting of all hues, and lavishly tucking it under his master’s chin for an apron. The mode of shaving among the Spaniards is a little different from what it is with other nations. They have a basin, specifically called a barber’s basin, which on one side is scooped out, so as accurately to receive the chin, against which it is closely held in lathering; which is done, not with a brush, but with soap dipped in the water of the basin and rubbed on the face. In the present instance salt-water was used for lack of better; and the parts lathered were only the upper lip, and low down under the throat, all the rest being cultivated beard. The preliminaries being somewhat novel to Captain Delano, he sat curiously eying them, so that no conversation took place, nor, for the present, did Don Benito appear disposed to renew any. Setting down his basin, the negro searched among the razors, as for the sharpest, and having found it, gave it an additional edge by expertly strapping it on the firm, smooth, oily skin of his open palm; he then made a gesture as if to begin, but midway stood suspended for an instant, one hand elevating the razor, the other professionally dabbling among the bubbling suds on the Spaniard’s lank neck. Not unaffected by the close sight of the gleaming steel, Don Benito nervously shuddered; his usual ghastliness was heightened by the lather, which lather, again, was intensified in its hue by the contrasting sootiness of the negro’s body. Altogether the scene was somewhat peculiar, at least to Captain Delano, nor, as he saw the two thus postured, could he resist the vagary, that in the black he saw a headsman, and in the white a man at the block. But this was one of those antic conceits, appearing and vanishing in a breath, from which, perhaps, the best regulated mind is not always free. Meantime the agitation of the Spaniard had a little loosened the bunting from around him, so that one broad fold swept curtain-like over the chair-arm to the floor, revealing, amid a profusion of armorial bars and ground-colors–black, blue, and yellow–a closed castle in a blood red field diagonal with a lion rampant in a white. “The castle and the lion,” exclaimed Captain Delano–“why, Don Benito, this is the flag of Spain you use here. It’s well it’s only I, and not the King, that sees this,” he added, with a smile, “but”–turning towards the black–“it’s all one, I suppose, so the colors be gay;” which playful remark did not fail somewhat to tickle the negro. “Now, master,” he said, readjusting the flag, and pressing the head gently further back into the crotch of the chair; “now, master,” and the steel glanced nigh the throat. Again Don Benito faintly shuddered. “You must not shake so, master. See, Don Amasa, master always shakes when I shave him. And yet master knows I never yet have drawn blood, though it’s true, if master will shake so, I may some of these times. Now master,” he continued. “And now, Don Amasa, please go on with your talk about the gale, and all that; master can hear, and, between times, master can answer.” “Ah yes, these gales,” said Captain Delano; “but the more I think of your voyage, Don Benito, the more I wonder, not at the gales, terrible as they must have been, but at the disastrous interval following them. For here, by your account, have you been these two months and more getting from Cape Horn to St. Maria, a distance which I myself, with a good wind, have sailed in a few days. True, you had calms, and long ones, but to be becalmed for two months, that is, at least, unusual. Why, Don Benito, had almost any other gentleman told me such a story, I should have been half disposed to a little incredulity.” Here an involuntary expression came over the Spaniard, similar to that just before on the deck, and whether it was the start he gave, or a sudden gawky roll of the hull in the calm, or a momentary unsteadiness of the servant’s hand, however it was, just then the razor drew blood, spots of which stained the creamy lather under the throat: immediately the black barber drew back his steel, and, remaining in his professional attitude, back to Captain Delano, and face to Don Benito, held up the trickling razor, saying, with a sort of half humorous sorrow, “See, master–you shook so–here’s Babo’s first blood.” No sword drawn before James the First of England, no assassination in that timid King’s presence, could have produced a more terrified aspect than was now presented by Don Benito. Poor fellow, thought Captain Delano, so nervous he can’t even bear the sight of barber’s blood; and this unstrung, sick man, is it credible that I should have imagined he meant to spill all my blood, who can’t endure the sight of one little drop of his own? Surely, Amasa Delano, you have been beside yourself this day. Tell it not when you get home, sappy Amasa. Well, well, he looks like a murderer, doesn’t he? More like as if himself were to be done for. Well, well, this day’s experience shall be a good lesson. Meantime, while these things were running through the honest seaman’s mind, the servant had taken the napkin from his arm, and to Don Benito had said–“But answer Don Amasa, please, master, while I wipe this ugly stuff off the razor, and strop it again.” As he said the words, his face was turned half round, so as to be alike visible to the Spaniard and the American, and seemed, by its expression, to hint, that he was desirous, by getting his master to go on with the conversation, considerately to withdraw his attention from the recent annoying accident. As if glad to snatch the offered relief, Don Benito resumed, rehearsing to Captain Delano, that not only were the calms of unusual duration, but the ship had fallen in with obstinate currents; and other things he added, some of which were but repetitions of former statements, to explain how it came to pass that the passage from Cape Horn to St. Maria had been so exceedingly long; now and then, mingling with his words, incidental praises, less qualified than before, to the blacks, for their general good conduct. These particulars were not given consecutively, the servant, at convenient times, using his razor, and so, between the intervals of shaving, the story and panegyric went on with more than usual huskiness. To Captain Delano’s imagination, now again not wholly at rest, there was something so hollow in the Spaniard’s manner, with apparently some reciprocal hollowness in the servant’s dusky comment of silence, that the idea flashed across him, that possibly master and man, for some unknown purpose, were acting out, both in word and deed, nay, to the very tremor of Don Benito’s limbs, some juggling play before him. Neither did the suspicion of collusion lack apparent support, from the fact of those whispered conferences before mentioned. But then, what could be the object of enacting this play of the barber before him? At last, regarding the notion as a whimsy, insensibly suggested, perhaps, by the theatrical aspect of Don Benito in his harlequin ensign, Captain Delano speedily banished it. The shaving over, the servant bestirred himself with a small bottle of scented waters, pouring a few drops on the head, and then diligently rubbing; the vehemence of the exercise causing the muscles of his face to twitch rather strangely. His next operation was with comb, scissors, and brush; going round and round, smoothing a curl here, clipping an unruly whisker-hair there, giving a graceful sweep to the temple-lock, with other impromptu touches evincing the hand of a master; while, like any resigned gentleman in barber’s hands, Don Benito bore all, much less uneasily, at least than he had done the razoring; indeed, he sat so pale and rigid now, that the negro seemed a Nubian sculptor finishing off a white statue-head. All being over at last, the standard of Spain removed, tumbled up, and tossed back into the flag-locker, the negro’s warm breath blowing away any stray hair, which might have lodged down his master’s neck; collar and cravat readjusted; a speck of lint whisked off the velvet lapel; all this being done; backing off a little space, and pausing with an expression of subdued self-complacency, the servant for a moment surveyed his master, as, in toilet at least, the creature of his own tasteful hands. Captain Delano playfully complimented him upon his achievement; at the same time congratulating Don Benito. But neither sweet waters, nor shampooing, nor fidelity, nor sociality, delighted the Spaniard. Seeing him relapsing into forbidding gloom, and still remaining seated, Captain Delano, thinking that his presence was undesired just then, withdrew, on pretense of seeing whether, as he had prophesied, any signs of a breeze were visible. Walking forward to the main-mast, he stood awhile thinking over the scene, and not without some undefined misgivings, when he heard a noise near the cuddy, and turning, saw the negro, his hand to his cheek. Advancing, Captain Delano perceived that the cheek was bleeding. He was about to ask the cause, when the negro’s wailing soliloquy enlightened him. “Ah, when will master get better from his sickness; only the sour heart that sour sickness breeds made him serve Babo so; cutting Babo with the razor, because, only by accident, Babo had given master one little scratch; and for the first time in so many a day, too. Ah, ah, ah,” holding his hand to his face. Is it possible, thought Captain Delano; was it to wreak in private his Spanish spite against this poor friend of his, that Don Benito, by his sullen manner, impelled me to withdraw? Ah this slavery breeds ugly passions in man.–Poor fellow! He was about to speak in sympathy to the negro, but with a timid reluctance he now re-entered the cuddy. Presently master and man came forth; Don Benito leaning on his servant as if nothing had happened. But a sort of love-quarrel, after all, thought Captain Delano. He accosted Don Benito, and they slowly walked together. They had gone but a few paces, when the steward–a tall, rajah-looking mulatto, orientally set off with a pagoda turban formed by three or four Madras handkerchiefs wound about his head, tier on tier–approaching with a saalam, announced lunch in the cabin. On their way thither, the two captains were preceded by the mulatto, who, turning round as he advanced, with continual smiles and bows, ushered them on, a display of elegance which quite completed the insignificance of the small bare-headed Babo, who, as if not unconscious of inferiority, eyed askance the graceful steward. But in part, Captain Delano imputed his jealous watchfulness to that peculiar feeling which the full-blooded African entertains for the adulterated one. As for the steward, his manner, if not bespeaking much dignity of self-respect, yet evidenced his extreme desire to please; which is doubly meritorious, as at once Christian and Chesterfieldian. Captain Delano observed with interest that while the complexion of the mulatto was hybrid, his physiognomy was European–classically so. “Don Benito,” whispered he, “I am glad to see this usher-of-the-golden-rod of yours; the sight refutes an ugly remark once made to me by a Barbadoes planter; that when a mulatto has a regular European face, look out for him; he is a devil. But see, your steward here has features more regular than King George’s of England; and yet there he nods, and bows, and smiles; a king, indeed–the king of kind hearts and polite fellows. What a pleasant voice he has, too?” “He has, Señor.” “But tell me, has he not, so far as you have known him, always proved a good, worthy fellow?” said Captain Delano, pausing, while with a final genuflexion the steward disappeared into the cabin; “come, for the reason just mentioned, I am curious to know.” “Francesco is a good man,” a sort of sluggishly responded Don Benito, like a phlegmatic appreciator, who would neither find fault nor flatter. “Ah, I thought so. For it were strange, indeed, and not very creditable to us white-skins, if a little of our blood mixed with the African’s, should, far from improving the latter’s quality, have the sad effect of pouring vitriolic acid into black broth; improving the hue, perhaps, but not the wholesomeness.” “Doubtless, doubtless, Señor, but”–glancing at Babo–“not to speak of negroes, your planter’s remark I have heard applied to the Spanish and Indian intermixtures in our provinces. But I know nothing about the matter,” he listlessly added. And here they entered the cabin. The lunch was a frugal one. Some of Captain Delano’s fresh fish and pumpkins, biscuit and salt beef, the reserved bottle of cider, and the San Dominick’s last bottle of Canary. As they entered, Francesco, with two or three colored aids, was hovering over the table giving the last adjustments. Upon perceiving their master they withdrew, Francesco making a smiling congé, and the Spaniard, without condescending to notice it, fastidiously remarking to his companion that he relished not superfluous attendance. Without companions, host and guest sat down, like a childless married couple, at opposite ends of the table, Don Benito waving Captain Delano to his place, and, weak as he was, insisting upon that gentleman being seated before himself. The negro placed a rug under Don Benito’s feet, and a cushion behind his back, and then stood behind, not his master’s chair, but Captain Delano’s. At first, this a little surprised the latter. But it was soon evident that, in taking his position, the black was still true to his master; since by facing him he could the more readily anticipate his slightest want. “This is an uncommonly intelligent fellow of yours, Don Benito,” whispered Captain Delano across the table. “You say true, Señor.” During the repast, the guest again reverted to parts of Don Benito’s story, begging further particulars here and there. He inquired how it was that the scurvy and fever should have committed such wholesale havoc upon the whites, while destroying less than half of the blacks. As if this question reproduced the whole scene of plague before the Spaniard’s eyes, miserably reminding him of his solitude in a cabin where before he had had so many friends and officers round him, his hand shook, his face became hueless, broken words escaped; but directly the sane memory of the past seemed replaced by insane terrors of the present. With starting eyes he stared before him at vacancy. For nothing was to be seen but the hand of his servant pushing the Canary over towards him. At length a few sips served partially to restore him. He made random reference to the different constitution of races, enabling one to offer more resistance to certain maladies than another. The thought was new to his companion. Presently Captain Delano, intending to say something to his host concerning the pecuniary part of the business he had undertaken for him, especially–since he was strictly accountable to his owners–with reference to the new suit of sails, and other things of that sort; and naturally preferring to conduct such affairs in private, was desirous that the servant should withdraw; imagining that Don Benito for a few minutes could dispense with his attendance. He, however, waited awhile; thinking that, as the conversation proceeded, Don Benito, without being prompted, would perceive the propriety of the step. But it was otherwise. At last catching his host’s eye, Captain Delano, with a slight backward gesture of his thumb, whispered, “Don Benito, pardon me, but there is an interference with the full expression of what I have to say to you.” Upon this the Spaniard changed countenance; which was imputed to his resenting the hint, as in some way a reflection upon his servant. After a moment’s pause, he assured his guest that the black’s remaining with them could be of no disservice; because since losing his officers he had made Babo (whose original office, it now appeared, had been captain of the slaves) not only his constant attendant and companion, but in all things his confidant. After this, nothing more could be said; though, indeed, Captain Delano could hardly avoid some little tinge of irritation upon being left ungratified in so inconsiderable a wish, by one, too, for whom he intended such solid services. But it is only his querulousness, thought he; and so filling his glass he proceeded to business. The price of the sails and other matters was fixed upon. But while this was being done, the American observed that, though his original offer of assistance had been hailed with hectic animation, yet now when it was reduced to a business transaction, indifference and apathy were betrayed. Don Benito, in fact, appeared to submit to hearing the details more out of regard to common propriety, than from any impression that weighty benefit to himself and his voyage was involved. Soon, his manner became still more reserved. The effort was vain to seek to draw him into social talk. Gnawed by his splenetic mood, he sat twitching his beard, while to little purpose the hand of his servant, mute as that on the wall, slowly pushed over the Canary. Lunch being over, they sat down on the cushioned transom; the servant placing a pillow behind his master. The long continuance of the calm had now affected the atmosphere. Don Benito sighed heavily, as if for breath. “Why not adjourn to the cuddy,” said Captain Delano; “there is more air there.” But the host sat silent and motionless. Meantime his servant knelt before him, with a large fan of feathers. And Francesco coming in on tiptoes, handed the negro a little cup of aromatic waters, with which at intervals he chafed his master’s brow; smoothing the hair along the temples as a nurse does a child’s. He spoke no word. He only rested his eye on his master’s, as if, amid all Don Benito’s distress, a little to refresh his spirit by the silent sight of fidelity. Presently the ship’s bell sounded two o’clock; and through the cabin windows a slight rippling of the sea was discerned; and from the desired direction. “There,” exclaimed Captain Delano, “I told you so, Don Benito, look!” He had risen to his feet, speaking in a very animated tone, with a view the more to rouse his companion. But though the crimson curtain of the stern-window near him that moment fluttered against his pale cheek, Don Benito seemed to have even less welcome for the breeze than the calm. Poor fellow, thought Captain Delano, bitter experience has taught him that one ripple does not make a wind, any more than one swallow a summer. But he is mistaken for once. I will get his ship in for him, and prove it. Briefly alluding to his weak condition, he urged his host to remain quietly where he was, since he (Captain Delano) would with pleasure take upon himself the responsibility of making the best use of the wind. Upon gaining the deck, Captain Delano started at the unexpected figure of Atufal, monumentally fixed at the threshold, like one of those sculptured porters of black marble guarding the porches of Egyptian tombs. But this time the start was, perhaps, purely physical. Atufal’s presence, singularly attesting docility even in sullenness, was contrasted with that of the hatchet-polishers, who in patience evinced their industry; while both spectacles showed, that lax as Don Benito’s general authority might be, still, whenever he chose to exert it, no man so savage or colossal but must, more or less, bow. Snatching a trumpet which hung from the bulwarks, with a free step Captain Delano advanced to the forward edge of the poop, issuing his orders in his best Spanish. The few sailors and many negroes, all equally pleased, obediently set about heading the ship towards the harbor. While giving some directions about setting a lower stu’n’-sail, suddenly Captain Delano heard a voice faithfully repeating his orders. Turning, he saw Babo, now for the time acting, under the pilot, his original part of captain of the slaves. This assistance proved valuable. Tattered sails and warped yards were soon brought into some trim. And no brace or halyard was pulled but to the blithe songs of the inspirited negroes. Good fellows, thought Captain Delano, a little training would make fine sailors of them. Why see, the very women pull and sing too. These must be some of those Ashantee negresses that make such capital soldiers, I’ve heard. But who’s at the helm. I must have a good hand there. He went to see. The San Dominick steered with a cumbrous tiller, with large horizontal pullies attached. At each pully-end stood a subordinate black, and between them, at the tiller-head, the responsible post, a Spanish seaman, whose countenance evinced his due share in the general hopefulness and confidence at the coming of the breeze. He proved the same man who had behaved with so shame-faced an air on the windlass. “Ah,–it is you, my man,” exclaimed Captain Delano–“well, no more sheep’s-eyes now;–look straight forward and keep the ship so. Good hand, I trust? And want to get into the harbor, don’t you?” The man assented with an inward chuckle, grasping the tiller-head firmly. Upon this, unperceived by the American, the two blacks eyed the sailor intently. Finding all right at the helm, the pilot went forward to the forecastle, to see how matters stood there. The ship now had way enough to breast the current. With the approach of evening, the breeze would be sure to freshen. Having done all that was needed for the present, Captain Delano, giving his last orders to the sailors, turned aft to report affairs to Don Benito in the cabin; perhaps additionally incited to rejoin him by the hope of snatching a moment’s private chat while the servant was engaged upon deck. From opposite sides, there were, beneath the poop, two approaches to the cabin; one further forward than the other, and consequently communicating with a longer passage. Marking the servant still above, Captain Delano, taking the nighest entrance–the one last named, and at whose porch Atufal still stood–hurried on his way, till, arrived at the cabin threshold, he paused an instant, a little to recover from his eagerness. Then, with the words of his intended business upon his lips, he entered. As he advanced toward the seated Spaniard, he heard another footstep, keeping time with his. From the opposite door, a salver in hand, the servant was likewise advancing. “Confound the faithful fellow,” thought Captain Delano; “what a vexatious coincidence.” Possibly, the vexation might have been something different, were it not for the brisk confidence inspired by the breeze. But even as it was, he felt a slight twinge, from a sudden indefinite association in his mind of Babo with Atufal. “Don Benito,” said he, “I give you joy; the breeze will hold, and will increase. By the way, your tall man and time-piece, Atufal, stands without. By your order, of course?” Don Benito recoiled, as if at some bland satirical touch, delivered with such adroit garnish of apparent good breeding as to present no handle for retort. He is like one flayed alive, thought Captain Delano; where may one touch him without causing a shrink? The servant moved before his master, adjusting a cushion; recalled to civility, the Spaniard stiffly replied: “you are right. The slave appears where you saw him, according to my command; which is, that if at the given hour I am below, he must take his stand and abide my coming.” “Ah now, pardon me, but that is treating the poor fellow like an ex-king indeed. Ah, Don Benito,” smiling, “for all the license you permit in some things, I fear lest, at bottom, you are a bitter hard master.” Again Don Benito shrank; and this time, as the good sailor thought, from a genuine twinge of his conscience. Again conversation became constrained. In vain Captain Delano called attention to the now perceptible motion of the keel gently cleaving the sea; with lack-lustre eye, Don Benito returned words few and reserved. By-and-by, the wind having steadily risen, and still blowing right into the harbor bore the San Dominick swiftly on. Sounding a point of land, the sealer at distance came into open view. Meantime Captain Delano had again repaired to the deck, remaining there some time. Having at last altered the ship’s course, so as to give the reef a wide berth, he returned for a few moments below. I will cheer up my poor friend, this time, thought he. “Better and better,” Don Benito, he cried as he blithely re-entered: “there will soon be an end to your cares, at least for awhile. For when, after a long, sad voyage, you know, the anchor drops into the haven, all its vast weight seems lifted from the captain’s heart. We are getting on famously, Don Benito. My ship is in sight. Look through this side-light here; there she is; all a-taunt-o! The Bachelor’s Delight, my good friend. Ah, how this wind braces one up. Come, you must take a cup of coffee with me this evening. My old steward will give you as fine a cup as ever any sultan tasted. What say you, Don Benito, will you?” At first, the Spaniard glanced feverishly up, casting a longing look towards the sealer, while with mute concern his servant gazed into his face. Suddenly the old ague of coldness returned, and dropping back to his cushions he was silent. “You do not answer. Come, all day you have been my host; would you have hospitality all on one side?” “I cannot go,” was the response. “What? it will not fatigue you. The ships will lie together as near as they can, without swinging foul. It will be little more than stepping from deck to deck; which is but as from room to room. Come, come, you must not refuse me.” “I cannot go,” decisively and repulsively repeated Don Benito. Renouncing all but the last appearance of courtesy, with a sort of cadaverous sullenness, and biting his thin nails to the quick, he glanced, almost glared, at his guest, as if impatient that a stranger’s presence should interfere with the full indulgence of his morbid hour. Meantime the sound of the parted waters came more and more gurglingly and merrily in at the windows; as reproaching him for his dark spleen; as telling him that, sulk as he might, and go mad with it, nature cared not a jot; since, whose fault was it, pray? But the foul mood was now at its depth, as the fair wind at its height. There was something in the man so far beyond any mere unsociality or sourness previously evinced, that even the forbearing good-nature of his guest could no longer endure it. Wholly at a loss to account for such demeanor, and deeming sickness with eccentricity, however extreme, no adequate excuse, well satisfied, too, that nothing in his own conduct could justify it, Captain Delano’s pride began to be roused. Himself became reserved. But all seemed one to the Spaniard. Quitting him, therefore, Captain Delano once more went to the deck. The ship was now within less than two miles of the sealer. The whale-boat was seen darting over the interval. To be brief, the two vessels, thanks to the pilot’s skill, ere long neighborly style lay anchored together.

the head, that hive of subtlety, fixed on a pole in the Plaza, met, unabashed, the gaze of the whites;

I flew my kite,And my soul was contented

But though this conclusion from the coherence of appearances may seem to be of the same nature with our reasonings concerning causes and effects; as being derived from custom, and regulated by past experience; we shall find upon examination, that they are at the bottom considerably different from each other, and that this inference arises from the understanding, and from custom in an indirect and oblique manner. For it will readily be allowed, that since nothing is ever really present to the mind, besides its own perceptions, it is not only impossible, that any habit should ever be acquired otherwise than by the regular succession of these perceptions, but also that any habit should ever exceed that degree of regularity. Any degree, therefore, of regularity in our perceptions, can never be a foundation for us to infer a greater degree of regularity in some objects, which are not perceived; since this supposes a contradiction, viz. a habit acquired by what was never present to the mind. But it is evident, that whenever we infer the continued existence of the objects of sense from their coherence, and the frequency of their union, it is in order to bestow on the objects a greater regularity than what is observed in our mere perceptions. We remark a connexion betwixt two kinds of objects in their past appearance to the senses, but are not able to observe this connexion to be perfectly constant, since the turning about of our head or the shutting of our eyes is able to break it. What then do we suppose in this case, but that these objects still continue their usual connexion, notwithstanding their apparent interruption, and that the irregular appearances are joined by something, of which we are insensible? But as all reasoning concerning matters of fact arises only from custom, and custom can only be the effect of repeated perceptions, the extending of custom and reasoning beyond the perceptions can never be the direct and natural effect of the constant repetition and connexion, but must arise from the co-operation of some other principles.

When the Philistines put the Ark of the Lord in this temple, Maimed his brute image, head and hands lopt off, his statue was later found decapitated and his hands were cut off.

[14] I have already computed the Charge of nursing a Beggars Child (in which list I reckon all Cottagers, Labourers, and four fifths of the Farmers) to be about two Shillings per Annum, Rags included; and I believe no Gentleman would repine to give Ten Shillings for the Carcass of a good fat Child, which, as I have said will make four Dishes of excellent Nutritive Meat, when he hath only some particular friend, or his own Family to Dine with him. Thus the Squire will learn to be a good Landlord, and grow popular among his Tenants, the Mother will have Eight Shillings neat profit, and be fit for Work till she produceth another Child. [15] Those who are more thrifty (as I must confess the Times require) may flay the Carcass; the Skin of which, Artificially 17  dressed, will make admirable Gloves for Ladies, and Summer Boots for fine Gentlemen. [16] As to our City of Dublin, Shambles 18  may be appointed for this purpose, in the most convenient parts of it, and Butchers we may be assured will not be wanting, although I rather recommend buying the Children alive, and dressing them hot from the Knife, as we do roasting Pigs. [17] A very worthy Person, a true Lover of his Country, and whose Virtues I highly esteem, was lately pleased, in discoursing on this matter, to offer a refinement upon my Scheme. He said, that many Gentlemen of this Kingdom, having of late destroyed their Deer, he conceived that the want of Venison might be well supplyed by the Bodies of young Lads and Maidens, not exceeding fourteen Years of Age, nor under twelve; so great a Number of both Sexes in every County being now ready to Starve, for want of Work and Service: And these to be disposed of by their Parents if alive, or otherwise by their nearest Relations. But with due deference to so excellent a friend, and so deserving a Patriot, I cannot be altogether in his Sentiments, for as to the Males, my American acquaintance assured me from frequent Experience, that their flesh was generally Tough and Lean, like that of our School-boys, by continual exercise, and their Taste disagreeable, and to Fatten them would not answer the Charge. Then as to the Females, it would, I think, with humble Submission, be a loss to the Publick, because they soon would become Breeders themselves: And besides it is not improbable that some scrupulous People might be apt to Censure such a Practice, (although indeed very unjustly) as a little bordering upon Cruelty, which, I confess, hath always been with me the strongest objection against any Project, how well soever intended. [18] But in order to justify my friend, he confessed, that this expedient was put into his head by the famous Sallmanaazor, 19  a Native of the Island Formosa, who came from thence to London, above twenty Years ago, and in Conversation told my friend, that in his Country when any young Person happened to be put to Death, the Executioner sold the Carcass to Persons of Quality, as a prime Dainty, and that, in his Time, the Body of a plump Girl of fifteen, who was crucifyed for an attempt to Poison the Emperor, was sold to his Imperial Majesty's prime Minister of State, and other great Mandarins 20  of the Court, in Joints from the Gibbet, 21  at four hundred Crowns. Neither indeed can I deny, that if the same use were made of several plump young Girls in this Town, who, without one single Groat 22  to their Fortunes, cannot stir abroad without a Chair, 23  and appear at a Play-House, and Assemblies in Foreign fineries, which they never will Pay for; the Kingdom would not be the worse.

employee fell to the ground and both subjects continued to kick the employee in the head before they ran off.

The first suspect walked behind the counter, picked up a bar stool and struck the employee on the head, police said. The first suspect also picked up a bowling ball and smashed it on the back of the employee’s head.

employee fell to the ground and both subjects continued to kick the employee in the head before they ran off.

The first suspect also picked up a bowling ball and smashed it on the back of the employee’s head.

The first suspect reached over the bowling counter and punched the employee in the face, police said. The second suspect, who had stepped behind the counter, then started punching and kicking the employee in the face and body.

reached over the bowling counter and punched the employee in the face,

The first suspect walked behind the counter, picked up a bar stool and struck the employee on the head, police said. The first suspect also picked up a bowling ball and smashed it on the back of the employee’s head.

viciously attacking an employee

asked a group of unruly guests to leave, the Roseville Police Department said.

The second suspect has been identified by authorities, The Atlanta Journal Constitution reported, but his name isn’t being released yet.

The first suspect also picked up a bowling ball and smashed it on the back of the employee’s head.

employee fell to the ground and both subjects continued to kick the employee in the head before they ran off

reached over the bowling counter and punched the employee in the face

The second suspect has been identified by authorities, The Atlanta Journal Constitution reported, but his name isn’t being released yet

The first suspect also picked up a bowling ball and smashed it on the back of the employee’s head

If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips' red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound; I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.    And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare    As any she belied with false compare.

Coral is far more red than her lips' red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks;

Posted on October 23, 2018Local Skyhawk Eateries & Study Spaces: Beanery on Washington Beanery on Washington: The Beanery on Washington is a local coffee shop located at 181 Washington St, North Easton, that offers its customers all the comforts of home.  They offer their customers delicious coffee as well as breakfast sandwiches in a warm, welcoming environment.   What are they known for? The Beanery on Washington is known for their appetizing breakfast menu, as they earned 4.5 stars out of 5 from customers on yelp. They are especially known for their coffee and breakfast sandwiches, which their customers rave about. Another aspect of this coffee house that sets them apart from others is the homely feeling that they provide. As you can see in the picture above, they provide the sense of warmth associated with your living room as customers can sit by a fire place in comfortable arm chairs. Will I be Able to Study There? The Beanery on Washington is open Monday-Friday from 5:30 A.M.- 6:00 P.M., 8:00 A.M.- 5:00 P.M. Saturday, and 9:00 A.M.- 5:00 P.M. Sunday. Therefore, at any point throughout the day you could go, get a cup of coffee, and get your work done with all the comforts of home. Why the Beanery on Washington over the Cafeteria? If you are tired of drinking the same coffee everyday, and eating the same breakfast everyday, give the Beanery on Washington a shot! They are highly regarded among their loyal customer base, and will provide a change of scenery from the library or your dorm for you to get work done! Posted on October 18, 2018October 23, 2018Local Skyhawk Eateries & Study Spaces: JJ’s Cafe JJ’s Cafe: JJ’s Cafe is a restaurant, located at 610 North Main Street, Brockton, that specializes in breakfast, and is highly regarded by the surrounding community.  On American Restaurant, JJ’s cafe received a score of 4.8 out of 5 for total customer satisfaction. What Are They Known for? JJ’s Cafe is known and loved for their vast breakfast menu. Customers rave about their different meals such as the “City of Champions” meal or the “Eggs Benedict”. They are known for having high quality food for a very reasonable price, with outstanding service to top it off. Will I be Able to Study There?  JJ’s Cafe is open from 7:00 A.M.- 3:00 P.M. Tuesday-Sunday, and is closed on Mondays. Although the physical location is on the smaller side, if you plan your visit for a weekday morning, besides Monday, you will experience a quiet, calm atmosphere, therefore allowing you to complete your school work and enjoy a delicious meal. Why JJ’s Cafe over the Cafeteria?  JJ’s Cafe offers a wide variety of delicious breakfast meals, unmatched service, and very reasonable price. If you are looking for a change if scenery from the Cafe then JJ’s Cafe might be a great option for you! Posted on October 13, 2018Local Skyhawk Eateries & Study Spaces: The Farmers Daughter The Farmers Daughter:  The Farmers Daughter is owned by Chandra Gouldrup, who is also the head chef. It is located at 22 Main St, North Easton, which is a short ten minute drive from Stonehill. The Farmers Daughter is known to be slightly more expensive than surrounding breakfast and lunch restaurants, however they justify the price with the quality of food. What are They Known For? Growing up, Sandra was legitimately the daughter of a farmer, which sparked her appreciation for farm grown food. At her restaurant, which serves breakfast and lunch, she prides herself in providing “comfort food” that came straight from the farm. The Farmers Daughter has become a very popular name in the local restaurant industry and has earned 4/5 stars by reviewers on Yelp. Will I be Able to Study There? The Farmers Daughter is open Monday-Friday 8:00 A.M.- 2:00 P.M., and Saturday and Sunday 7:00 A.M.- 3:00 P.M. The restaurant, due to its popularity, is almost always busy during its business hours.  However, if you are able to get a table then you should be able to enjoy a nice meal as well as do your work. Why The Farmers Daughter over the Cafeteria? Although the school cafeteria may offer cheaper food, many students get sick of eating the same food every day. If you are willing to spend a little extra money every once in a while, and enjoy a delicious meal for either breakfast or lunch, made with farm fresh products, The Farmers Daughter may be a good option for you! The Menu Link: http://www.thefarmersdaughtereaston.com/our-menus/   Posted on October 9, 2018October 23, 2018Local Skyhawk Eateries & Study Spaces: Back Bay Bagel Back Bay Bagel: Are you looking for a delicious breakfast from somewhere other than the cafeteria that is close to campus? Do you have work to do before your morning class? Kill two birds with one stone and grab breakfast at Back Bay Bagel! Back Bay Bagel is located at 1280 Belmont Street, Brockton, and is within walking distance!  What are they known for? As you may have guessed, Back Bay Bagel is known for their delicious bagels, as well as the overwhelming selection they have to choose from. Along with bagels, they also sell pastries, coffee, and bagel sandwiches, all for a very reasonable price. On Yelp Back Bay Bagel is rated 4.5 stars out of 5 by customers. Will I be able to study there? Back Bay Bagel is open from 5:00 A.M.- 5:00 P.M. Monday-Saturday, and 6:00 A.M.- 3:00 P.M. on Sundays. Luckily, Back Bay Bagel does not typically become overwhelmingly busy, and is usually the perfect atmosphere to do homework in.  No matter what time of day it is, Back Bay Bagel is almost always a workable environment. It also has a nice seating area where students and faculty could sit, enjoy their food, and get their work done! Why Back Bay Bagel over The Cafeteria? I cant speak for all of my classmates, however I know that I constantly find myself getting tired of eating the same food at the cafeteria. Venturing off campus to Back Bay Bagel would provide a change of scenery, a change of menu, and an opportunity to work on your school work! Posted on October 2, 2018October 23, 2018Local Skyhawk Eateries & Study Spaces: Starbucks Starbucks:  In case you are not familiar with Starbucks, it is a Coffee shop that also sells gourmet treats and various breakfast foods, along with its most famous item, Coffee! The Starbucks in Brockton is located at 1285 Belmont Street, and is within walking distance of Stonehill!  What are They Known For? What sets Starbucks apart from competitors such as Dunkin Donuts would be the quality of coffee they provide, so if you do not mind paying the higher price, Starbucks may be for you! If you go to a Starbucks and order a coffee, you may realize it takes longer to make than at other coffee shops, and this is because they pride themselves in brewing the best quality coffee around. Due to the high quality of coffee, they also charge a higher cost per cup, so if you are looking for a cheap morning pick-me-up, Starbucks might not be your place. Will I be Able to Study There? Starbucks is open from 5:00 A.M.- 8:30 P.M. Monday-Friday, 4:30 A.M.- 9:00 P.M. Saturday, and 5:00 A.M.- 9:00 P.M. According to Yelp.com , it is usually pretty slow and quiet between the hours of 10:00 A.M.- 8:00 P.M., which makes for a perfect study environment. Why Starbucks Over the Coffee Spots on Campus? You may also be saying to yourself, “Why wouldn’t I just go to one of the locations on campus that sells Starbucks?” and my answer to you would be the study environment. If you go to one of the locations on campus, I have found it difficult to study due to either lack of space, or to many distractions surrounding you, such as friends and teachers. If you need to study and are looking for a quality cup of coffee, I would certainly take the time to check out Starbucks! Below I will attach a link to Starbucks’ menu as well as a photo of the potential study environment! https://www.starbucks.com/menu Posted on October 2, 2018October 23, 2018Local Skyhawk Eateries & Study Spaces: Georgio’s Roast Beef & Pizza Georgio’s Roast Beef & Pizza: Can you guess what Georgio’s Roast Beef & Pizza is famous for? You guessed it! Their roast beef and pizza! Georgio’s is listed by Trip Adviser as a 4 star restaurant and is located at 1041 Pearl Street, Brockton, Massachusetts.  What are They Known For? Some of Georgio’s most popular meals include the “Super Roast Beef Sandwich”, “Cheese Pizza”, “Pepperoni Pizza”, and the “Roast Beef Sub”. Their customers constantly rave about their unparalleled Roast Beef, as it is their signature meal. Will I be Able to Study There? Along with having amazing food, Georgio’s can also provide a great study environment if  you go at the right time. According to Georgio’s.com, the least busy hours include 10:00 A.M.- 11:00 A.M., 3:00 P.M.- 5:00 P.M., and 8:00 P.M.- 9:00 P.M. During these hours, Stonehill College students or faculty could enjoy good food and a quiet study atmosphere. Why Georgio’s over the Cafeteria? Georgio’s offers customers a change of scenery, as well as a change in food! If you find yourself getting sick of the cafeteria food for three meals a day definitely switch it up and try out Georgio’s!   Attached below will be a link to the official Georgio’s menu as well as pictures of the study area: https://www.georgiosroastbeefandpizza.com/menu.html

5Whether the ship had a figure-head, or only a plain beak, was notquite certain, owing to canvas wrapped about that part, either toprotect it while undergoing a refurbishing, or else decently to hideits decay.

I found myself at the entrance of the cemetery where William, Elizabeth, and my father, reposed. I entered it, and approached the tomb which marked their graves. Every thing was silent, except the leaves of the trees, which were gently agitated by the wind; the night was nearly dark; and the scene would have been solemn and affecting even to an uninterested observer. The spirits of the departed seemed to flit around, and to cast a shadow, which was felt but seen not, around the head of the mourner.

Boredom is a head-clearing ascesis.

FrancesodiGiorgioMartini’schurchplans(circa1490),showthatforearlymodernarchitects,buildingscouldmimicthehumanbodyinaveryloosefit-muchlike howarobeorabathtubismadeexpresslyforbodiesbutisnotthereforeshapedlikeabody.

“I am aware, my fellow-citizens, that most men do not appear as candidates before you for an office, and conduct themselves in it when they have obtained it, under the same character; that they are at first industrious, humble, and modest, but afterward lead a life of indolence and arrogance. But to me it appears that the contrary should be the case; for as the whole state is of greater consequence than the single office of consulate or prætorship, so its interests ought to be managed with greater solicitude than these magistracies are sought.

During the evil reign of Alexander, the descendants of Darab privately lived in distant lands, wandering with Kurdish shepherds. Papak did not know that Sasan was descended from the family of Darab, son of Darae. One night Papak saw in a dream as though the sun was shining from the head of Sasan and giving light to the whole world. Another night he dreamt that Sasan was seated on a richly adorned white elephant, and that all those that stood around him in the kingdom made obeisance to him, praised, and blessed him. The next third night he, accordingly, saw as if the sacred fires Frobag, Gushasp, and Burzin-Mitro were burning in the house of Sasan and giving light to the whole world. He wondered at it, and directly invited to his presence the sages and interpreters of dreams, and narrated to them the visions he had seen in his dreams during those three nights.

unwrap the head of that warrior and to display it

sphinx

Those head wounds could have been deadly. All of them could have been fatal. Think about that for a minute.

the highest part of the natural head.

This one combs and places a clip just above her temple, sweeping back the curtain of why and how come. I kiss her head I say, maybe you already know.

red-caps

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips' red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there moredelightThan in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I knowThat music hath a far more pleasing sound;

The latter was popularised in 1989 by Martin Fleischmann and Stanley Pons, who claimed to have found evidence that such processes could take place in palladium loaded with deuterium (an isotope of hydrogen). A few other physicists, including the late Sergio Focardi at Bologna, claimed similar effects with nickel and ordinary hydrogen. But most were highly skeptical, and the field subsequently gained, as Wikipedia puts it, ‘a reputation as pathological science’.

Stacy Alaimo's concept of "intra-activity", in which humanity's experience of nature is never singular but inextricably bound to the experiences of other living creatures - both animate and inanimate - who inhabit this planet

On such an afternoon, if ever, the Lord High Chancellor ought to be sitting here—as here he is—with a foggy glory round his head,

matter­of­fact bravery of a young mother with a squeaky baby carriage facing downIsraeli soldiers in Ramallah

1948

No, I’ve made up my mind about it; if I’m Mabel, I’ll stay down here! It’ll be no use their putting their heads down and saying “Come up again, dear!” I shall only look up and say “Who am I then? Tell me that first, and then, if I like being that person, I’ll come up: if not, I’ll stay down here till I’m somebody else”—but, oh dear!’ cried Alice, with a sudden burst of tears, ‘I do wish they would put their heads down! I am so very tired of being all alone here!’

‘Off with her head

A bright idea came into Alice’s head.

Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; and how she would keep, through all her riper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood: and how she would gather about her other little children, and make their eyes bright and eager with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of Wonderland of long ago: and how she would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days.

Half-past one, time for dinner!’ (‘I only wish it was,’ the March Hare said to itself in a whisper.) ‘That would be grand, certainly,’ said Alice thoughtfully: ‘but then—I shouldn’t be hungry for it, you know.’ ‘Not at first, perhaps,’ said the Hatter: ‘but you could keep it to half-past one as long as you liked.’ ‘Is that the way you manage?’ Alice asked. The Hatter shook his head mournfully. ‘Not I!’ he replied.

How funny it’ll seem to come out among the people that walk with their heads downward!

putting their heads down

That dumb things would be mov'd to sympathize, And the brute Earth would lend her nerves, and shake, Till all thy magick structures rear'd so high, Were shatter'd into heaps o're thy false head

long, long years of pain

stopped early in the process

Her young vigour and health, the beautiful heavy hair and sunburnt neck of a country girl, the frank honesty of eye and gesture, all these things, thought he, were possessions of the child of seven years ago; and twice or thrice he shook his head as though to say that, in truth, she had not changed. But the consciousness too was there that he, if not she, had changed, for the sight of her before him took strange hold upon his heart.

Thus, we see prominent Republicans, including the Senate majority leader and the head of the Republican National Committee, peddling the idea that if Democrats gain power in Congress, one of their top priorities will be to impeach Justice Kavanaugh. No matter that this claim has no factual basis — it plays perfectly to the Republican base’s enduring sense of victimhood.

ollowed by Heitkamp, who improved her net standing by 4 points. Head-to-head polling has found Heitkamp trailing her Republican rival, Rep. Kevin Cramer, by nearly 9 points, according to the RealClearPolitics average.

threw herself head foremost into the tub, and was instantly devoured by the ugly creatures she had ordered to be thrown into it for others.

On the path on which they had run,came rolling the head of the man' wife.

Apprentice tailors cannot become masters, no matter what their skills or “in-the-head-knowledge,” if they are not recognized as such by the other tailors.

. After waiting for hours to be interviewed, the head of admissions told her that, despite her high test scores, the university wouldn’t accept her due to her religion, and pointed her towards a less prestigious school

As a result, she incurred humiliation when applying to a top medical school. After waiting for hours to be interviewed, the head of admissions told her that, despite her high test scores, the university wouldn’t accept her due to her religion, and pointed her towards a less prestigious school. Although her ID card happened to have the requisite “Jew” stamped on it in bold red letters, my mom saw her hair as the ultimate betrayer.

As a result, she incurred humiliation when applying to a top medical school. After waiting for hours to be interviewed, the head of admissions told her that, despite her high test scores, the university wouldn’t accept her due to her religion, and pointed her towards a less prestigious school. Although her ID card happened to have the requisite “Jew” stamped on it in bold red letters, my mom saw her hair as the ultimate betrayer.

U.S. veteran Jonathan Lubecky pulled the trigger on a loaded gun aimed at his head and it misfired that he finally decided to seek help. He had tried to commit suicide five times, after struggling with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) as a result of 12 years in the Marines and the Army, including service in Iraq.

She kept the hair that fell from her head, and the next day she had a handful of golden th

probably I would have gone for SPLOTBox otherwise because I think the full screen space for reading the detail is a bit better

Richard lowered his head and neck to buttress himself for the collision then straightened

But the person who has immersed themselves in the material of the news over time in a reflective way starts that process with three-quarters a race’s head start.

With those same Boots of Lead, again, Then Space – began to toll, As all the Heavens were a Bell, And Being, but an Ear,

Hence the striking similarities in both sound and image, for example, of hard-rockers from Beijing and their colleagues in Jakarta or Seattle, with their leatherjackets, long hair, and unruliness on and offstage.

Bruins defender Hal Laycoe had another of his endless run-ins with Richard, leaving the Habs' star cut on the head after a high stick. A brawl ensued, and the Rocket broke his CCM stick over Laycoe's back.

In order that the social crisis may bring about the proletarian revolution, it is necessary that, besides other conditions, a decisive shift of the petty bourgeois classes occurs in the direction of the proletariat. This gives the proletariat a chance to put itself at the head of the nation as its leader. The last election revealed -- and this is where its principle symptomatic significance lies -- a shift in the opposite direction. Under the blow of the crisis, the petty bourgeoisie swung, not in the direction of the proletarian revolution, but in the direction of the most extreme imperialist reaction, pulling behind it considerable sections of the proletariat.

w does it feel to have your head stuck in a zer

The red coat was changed for one of blue and buff, a sword was held in the hand instead of a sceptre, the head was decorated with a cocked hat, and underneath was painted in large characters, GENERAL WASHINGTON

Ancestral area reconstruction of the true morel genusMorchellausing the maximum likelihood-based program LAGRANGE (Ree and Smith, 2008), with four ancestralareas in the Northern Hemisphere. The outgroup taxaVerpaandDisciotiswere pruned from the chronogram to focus on the geographic range evolution ofMorchella.Divergence times were estimated using sequences of five calibration taxa (see Materials and Methods) and published divergence times for these taxa (Heckman et al., 2001;Blair, 2009). With the exception of two nodes within the Esculenta Clade, all ancestral ranges are represented by a single area. Red branches identify dispersalsresulting inrange expansions. Dispersals theorized to have involved the North Atlantic (NALB) and Beringian (B) land bridges between the Old and New Worlds are indicated. Thegeological time scale is in millions of years before present (Walker et al., 2009).Mru=M. rufobrunnea, Plio = Pliocene, P = Pleistocene. SeeSupporting information dataset S5for the NEXUS file

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But follow strait, invisibly thus led?

the fault actually lies with them and not with the buttons

It is said that whilst a boy named Servius Tullius was asleep, his head was enveloped in flames, before the eyes of many who were present. The cry which broke out at such a marvellous sight aroused the royal family, and when one of the domestics was bringing water to quench the flames the queen stopped him, and after calming the excitement forbade the boy to be disturbed until he awoke of his own accord. Presently he did so, and the flames disappeared.

She adds that acts witnessed online tend to elicit greater moral outrage than those viewed through traditional media.

They hold that every association must have a head in order to accomplish its object, and that the natural head of the conjugal association is man.

eople who use tools actively rather than just acquire them, by contrast, build an increasingly rich implicit understanding of the world in which they use the tools and of the tools themselves

LeBron James teases above his head

The pine and birch and maple throng And join with waving head.

“Only the human mind invents categories and tries to force facts into separated pigeon-holes. Theliving world is a continuum in each and every one of its aspects. The sooner we learn this concerninghuman sexual behavior, the sooner we shall reach a sound understanding of the realities of sex.”(Kinsey, Pomeroy, & Martin, 1948, pp. 638–639)

     "Father never liked to leave no great of a fire, even though he slept right here in the bedroom. He said this floor was one that would light an' catch easy, you r'member."      "Another winter we can move down and take the bedroom ourselves -- 'twill be warmer for us," suggested Hannah; but Betsey shook her head doubtfully. The thought of their old father's grave, unwatched and undefended in the outermost dark field, filled their hearts with a strange tenderness. They had been his dutiful, patient slaves, and it seemed like disloyalty to have abandoned the poor shape; to be sitting there disregarding the thousand requirements and services of the past. More than all, they were facing a free future; they were their own mistresses at last, though past sixty years of age. Hannah was still a child at heart. She chased away a dread suspicion, when Betsey forbade the wood, lest this elder sister, who favored their father's looks, might take his place as stern ruler of the household.

"Another winter we can move down and take the bedroom ourselves -- 'twill be warmer for us," suggested Hannah; but Betsey shook her head doubtfully. The thought of their old father's grave, unwatched and undefended in the outermost dark field, filled their hearts with a strange tenderness. They had been his dutiful, patient slaves, and it seemed like disloyalty to have abandoned the poor shape; to be sitting there disregarding the thousand requirements and services of the past. More than all, they were facing a free future; they were their own mistresses at last, though past sixty years of age. Hannah was still a child at heart. She chased away a dread suspicion, when Betsey forbade the wood, lest this elder sister, who favored their father's looks, might take his place as stern ruler of the household.