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SYMBOLISM IN DREAMS

Tono-Bungay, by H. G. Wells, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . NIGHT AND THE OPEN SEA Chap. 3 - NIGHT AND THE OPEN SEA I I have tried throughout all this story to tell things as they happened to me. In the beginning—the sheets are still here on the table, grimy and dogs-eared and old-looking—I said I wanted to tell myself and the world in which I found myself, and I have done my best. But whether I have succeeded I cannot imagine. All this writing is grey now and dead and trite and unmeaning to me; some of it I know by heart. I am the last person to judge it. As I turn over the big pile of manuscript before me certain things become clearer to me, and particularly the immense inconsequences of my experiences. It is, I see now that I have it all before me, a story of activity and urgency and sterility. I have called it Tono-Bungay, but I had far better have called it Waste. I have told of childless Marion, of my childless aunt, of Beatrice wasted and wasteful and futile. What hope is there for a people whose women become fruitless? I think of all the energy I have given to vain things. I think of my industrious scheming with my uncle, of Crest Hill’s vast cessation, of his resonant strenuous career. Ten thousand men have envied him and wished to live as he lived. It is all one spectacle of forces running to waste, of people who use and do not replace, the story of a country hectic with a wasting aimless fever of trade and money-making and pleasure-seeking. And now I build destroyers! Other people may see this country in other terms; this is how I have seen it. In some early chapter in this heap I compared all our present colour and abundance to October foliage before the frosts nip down the leaves. That I still feel was a good image. Perhaps I see wrongly. It may be I see decay all about me because I am, in a sense, decay. To others it may be a scene of achievement and construction radiant with hope. I, too, have a sort of hope, but it is a remote hope, a hope that finds no promise in this Empire or in any of the great things of our time. How they will look in history I do not know, how time and chance will prove them I cannot guess; that is how they have mirrored themselves on one contemporary mind. II Concurrently with writing the last chapter of this book I have been much engaged by the affairs of a new destroyer we have completed. It has been an oddly complementary alternation of occupations. Three weeks or so ago this novel had to be put aside in order that I might give all my time day and night to the fitting and finishing of the engines. Last Thursday X 2, for so we call her, was done and I took her down the Thames and went out nearly to Texel for a trial of speed. It is curious how at times one’s impressions will all fuse and run together into a sort of unity and become continuous with things that have hitherto been utterly alien and remote. That rush down the river became mysteriously connected with this book. As I passed down the Thames I seemed in a new and parallel manner to be passing all England in review. I saw it then as I had wanted my readers to see it. The thought came to me slowly as I picked my way through the Pool; it stood out clear as I went dreaming into the night out upon the wide North Sea. It wasn’t so much thinking at the time as a sort of photographic thought that came and grew clear. X2 went ripping through the dirty oily water as scissors rip through canvas, and the front of my mind was all intent with getting her through under the bridges and in and out among the steam-boats and barges and rowing-boats and piers. I lived with my hands and eyes hard ahead. I thought nothing then of any appearances but obstacles, but for all that the back of my mind took the photographic memory of it complete and vivid.... “This,” it came to me, “is England. That is what I wanted to give in my book. This!” We started in the late afternoon. We throbbed out of our yard above Hammersmith Bridge, fussed about for a moment, and headed down stream. We came at an easy rush down Craven Reach, past Fulham and Hurlingham, past the long stretches of muddy meadow And muddy suburb to Battersea and Chelsea, round the cape of tidy frontage that is Grosvenor Road and under Vauxhall Bridge, and Westminster opened before us. We cleared a string of coal barges and there on the left in the October sunshine stood the Parliament houses, and the flag was flying and Parliament was sitting. I saw it at the time unseeingly; afterwards it came into my mind as the centre of the whole broad panoramic effect of that afternoon. The stiff square lace of Victorian Gothic with its Dutch clock of a tower came upon me suddenly and stared and whirled past in a slow half pirouette and became still, I know, behind me as if watching me recede. “Aren’t you going to respect me, then?” it seemed to say. Not I! There in that great pile of Victorian architecture the landlords and the lawyers, the bishops, the railway men and the magnates of commerce go to and fro—in their incurable tradition of commercialised Bladesovery, of meretricious gentry and nobility sold for riches. I have been near enough to know. The Irish and the Labour-men run about among their feet, making a fuss, effecting little, they’ve got no better plans that I can see. Respect it indeed! There’s a certain paraphernalia of dignity, but whom does it deceive? The King comes down in a gilt coach to open the show and wears long robes and a crown; and there’s a display of stout and slender legs in white stockings and stout and slender legs in black stockings and artful old gentlemen in ermine. I was reminded of one congested afternoon I had spent with my aunt amidst a cluster of agitated women’s hats in the Royal Gallery of the House of Lords and how I saw the King going to open Parliament, and the Duke of Devonshire looking like a gorgeous pedlar and terribly bored with the cap of maintenance on a tray before him hung by slings from his shoulder. A wonderful spectacle! It is quaint, no doubt, this England—it is even dignified in places—and full of mellow associations. That does not alter the quality of the realities these robes conceal. The realities are greedy trade, base profit—seeking, bold advertisement; and kingship and chivalry, spite of this wearing of treasured robes, are as dead among it all as that crusader my uncle championed against the nettles outside the Duffield church. I have thought much of that bright afternoon’s panorama. To run down the Thames so is to run one’s hand over the pages in the book of England from end to end. One begins in Craven Reach and it is as if one were in the heart of old England. Behind us are Kew and Hampton Court with their memories of Kings and Cardinals, and one runs at first between Fulham’s episcopal garden parties and Hurlingham’s playground for the sporting instinct of our race. The whole effect is English. There is space, there are old trees and all the best qualities of the home-land in that upper reach. Putney, too, looks Anglican on a dwindling scale. And then for a stretch the newer developments slop over, one misses Bladesover and there come first squalid stretches of mean homes right and left and then the dingy industrialism of the south side, and on the north bank the polite long front of nice houses, artistic, literary, administrative people’s residences, that stretches from Cheyne Walk nearly to Westminster and hides a wilderness of slums. What a long slow crescendo that is, mile after mile, with the houses crowding closelier, the multiplying succession of church towers, the architectural moments, the successive bridges, until you come out into the second movement of the piece with Lambeth’s old palace under your quarter and the houses of Parliament on your bow! Westminster Bridge is ahead of you then, and through it you flash, and in a moment the round-faced clock tower cranes up to peer at you again and New Scotland Yard squares at you, a fat beef-eater of a policeman disguised miraculously as a Bastille. For a stretch you have the essential London; you have Charing Cross railway station, heart of the world, and the Embankment on the north side with its new hotels overshadowing its Georgian and Victorian architecture, and mud and great warehouses and factories, chimneys, shot towers, advertisements on the south. The northward skyline grows more intricate and pleasing, and more and more does one thank God for Wren. Somerset House is as picturesque as the civil war, one is reminded again of the original England, one feels in the fretted sky the quality of Restoration Lace. And then comes Astor’s strong box and the lawyers’ Inns. (I had a passing memory of myself there, how once I had trudged along the Embankment westward, weighing my uncle’s offer of three hundred pounds a year....) Through that central essential London reach I drove, and X2 bored her nose under the foam regardless of it all like a black hound going through reeds—on what trail even I who made her cannot tell. And in this reach, too, one first meets the seagulls and is reminded of the sea. Blackfriars one takes—just under these two bridges and just between them is the finest bridge moment in the world—and behold, soaring up, hanging in the sky over a rude tumult of warehouses, over a jostling competition of traders, irrelevantly beautiful and altogether remote, Saint Paul’s! “Of course!” one says, “Saint Paul’s!” It is the very figure of whatever fineness the old Anglican culture achieved, detached, a more dignified and chastened Saint Peter’s, colder, greyer, but still ornate; it has never been over thrown, never disavowed, only the tall warehouses and all the roar of traffic have forgotten it, every one has forgotten it; the steamships, the barges, go heedlessly by regardless of it, intricacies of telephone wires and poles cut blackly into its thin mysteries, and presently, when in a moment the traffic permits you and you look round for it, it has dissolved like a cloud into the grey blues of the London sky. And then the traditional and ostensible England falls from you altogether. The third movement begins, the last great movement in the London symphony, in which the trim scheme of the old order is altogether dwarfed and swallowed up. Comes London Bridge, and the great warehouses tower up about you, waving stupendous cranes, the gulls circle and scream in your ears, large ships lie among their lighters, and one is in the port of the world. Again and again in this book I have written of England as a feudal scheme overtaken by fatty degeneration and stupendous accidents of hypertrophy. For the last time I must strike that note as the memory of the dear neat little sunlit ancient Tower of London lying away in a gap among the warehouses comes back to me, that little accumulation of buildings so provincially pleasant and dignified, overshadowed by the vulgarest, most typical exploit of modern England, the sham Gothic casings to the ironwork of the Tower Bridge. That Tower Bridge is the very balance and confirmation of Westminster’s dull pinnacles and tower. That sham Gothic bridge; in the very gates of our mother of change, the Sea! But after that one is in a world of accident and nature. For the third part of the panorama of London is beyond all law, order, and precedence; it is the seaport and the sea. One goes down the widening reaches through a monstrous variety of shipping, great steamers, great sailing-ships, trailing the flags of all the world, a monstrous confusion of lighters, witches’ conferences of brown-sailed barges, wallowing tugs, a tumultuous crowding and jostling of cranes and spars, and wharves and stores, and assertive inscriptions. Huge vistas of dock open right and left of one, and here and there beyond and amidst it all are church towers, little patches of indescribably old-fashioned and worn-out houses, riverside pubs and the like, vestiges of townships that were long since torn to fragments and submerged in these new growths. And amidst it all no plan appears, no intention, no comprehensive desire. That is the very key of it all. Each day one feels that the pressure of commerce and traffic grew, grew insensibly monstrous, and first this man made a wharf and that erected a crane, and then this company set to work and then that, and so they jostled together to make this unassimilable enormity of traffic. Through it we dodged and drove eager for the high seas. I remember how I laughed aloud at the glimpse of the name of a London County Council steamboat that ran across me. Caxton it was called, and another was Pepys, and another was Shakespeare. They seemed so wildly out of place, splashing about in that confusion. One wanted to take them out and wipe them and put them back in some English gentleman’s library. Everything was alive about them, flash ing, splashing, and passing, ships moving, tugs panting, hawsers taut, barges going down with men toiling at the sweeps, the water all a-swirl with the wash of shipping, scaling into millions of little wavelets, curling and frothing under the whip of the unceasing wind. Past it all we drove. And at Greenwich to the south, you know, there stands a fine stone frontage where all the victories are recorded in a Painted Hall, and beside it is the “Ship” where once upon a time those gentlemen of Westminster used to have an annual dinner—before the port of London got too much for them altogether. The old façade of the Hospital was just warming to the sunset as we went by, and after that, right and left, the river opened, the sense of the sea increased and prevailed, reach after reach from Northfleet to the Nore. And out you come at last with the sun behind you into the eastern sea. You speed up and tear the oily water louder and faster, siroo, siroo-swish-siroo, and the hills of Kent—over which I once fled from the Christian teachings of Nicodemus Frapp—fall away on the right hand and Essex on the left. They fall away and vanish into blue haze, and the tall slow ships behind the tugs, scarce moving ships and wallowing sturdy tugs, are all wrought of wet gold as one goes frothing by. They stand out, bound on strange missions of life and death, to the killing of men in unfamiliar lands. And now behind us is blue mystery and the phantom flash of unseen lights, and presently even these are gone, and I and my destroyer tear out to the unknown across a great grey space. We tear into the great spaces of the future and the turbines fall to talking in unfamiliar tongues. Out to the open we go, to windy freedom and trackless ways. Light after light goes down. England and the Kingdom, Britain and the Empire, the old prides and the old devotions, glide abeam, astern, sink down upon the horizon, pass—pass. The river passes—London passes, England passes... III This is the note I have tried to emphasise, the note that sounds clear in my mind when I think of anything beyond the purely personal aspects of my story. It is a note of crumbling and confusion, of change and seemingly aimless swelling, of a bubbling up and medley of futile loves and sorrows. But through the confusion sounds another note. Through the confusion something drives, something that is at once human achievement and the most inhuman of all existing things. Something comes out of it.... How can I express the values of a thing at once so essential and so immaterial. It is something that calls upon such men as I with an irresistible appeal. I have figured it in my last section by the symbol of my destroyer, stark and swift, irrelevant to most human interests. Sometimes I call this reality Science, sometimes I call it Truth. But it is something we draw by pain and effort ont of the heart of life, that we disentangle and make clear. Other men serve it, I know, in art, in literature, in social invention, and see it in a thousand different figures, under a hundred names. I see it always as austerity, as beauty. This thing we make clear is the heart of life. It is the one enduring thing. Men and nations, epochs and civilisation pass each making its contribution I do not know what it is, this something, except that it is supreme. It is, a something, a quality, an element, one may find now in colours, now in norms, now in sounds, now in thoughts. It emerges from life with each year one lives and feels, and generation by generation and age by age, but the how and why of it are all beyond the compass of my mind.... Yet the full sense of it was with me all that night as I drove, lonely above the rush and murmur of my engines, out upon the weltering circle of the sea. Far out to the northeast there came the flicker of a squadron of warships waving white swords of light about the sky. I kept them hull-down, and presently they were mere summer lightning over the watery edge of the globe.... I fell into thought that was nearly formless, into doubts and dreams that have no words, and it seemed good to me to drive ahead and on and or through the windy starlight, over the long black waves. IV It was morning and day before I returned with the four sick and starving journalists who had got permission to come with me, up the shining river, and past the old grey Tower.... I recall the back views of those journalists very distinctly, going with a certain damp weariness of movement, along a side street away from the river. They were good men and bore me no malice, and they served me up to the public in turgid degenerate Kiplingese, as a modest button on the complacent stomach of the Empire. Though as a matter of fact, X2 isn’t intended for the empire, or indeed for the hands of any European power. We offered it to our own people first, but they would have nothing to do with me, and I have long since ceased to trouble much about such questions. I have come to see myself from the outside, my country from the outside—without illusions. We make and pass. We are all things that make and pass striving upon a hidden mission, out to the open sea. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. H. G. Wells (1996). Tono-Bungay. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022, from https://www.gutenberg.org/files/718/718-h/718-h.htm This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org, located at https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html.

NIGHT AND THE OPEN SEA

Random Reminiscences of Men and Events, by John D. Rockefeller is part of the HackerNoon Books Series . You can jump to any chapter in this book here . Chapter I : SOME OLD FRIENDS Chapter I. THE START OF THE STANDARD OIL COMPANY Since these Reminiscences are really what they profess to be, random and informal, I hope I may be pardoned for setting down so many small things. In looking back over my life, the impressions which come most vividly to my mind are mental pictures of my old associates. In speaking of these friends in this chapter, I would not have it thought that many others, of whom I have not spoken, were less important to me, and I shall hope to refer to this subject of my early friends in a later chapter. It is not always possible to remember just how one first met an old friend or what one's impressions were, but I shall never forget my first meeting with Mr. John D. Archbold, who is now a vice-president of the Standard Oil Company. At that time, say thirty-five or forty years ago, I was travelling about the country visiting the point where something was happening, talking with the producers, the refiners, the agents, and actually getting acquainted. One day there was a gathering of the men somewhere near the oil regions, and when I came to the hotel, which was full of oil men, I saw this name writ large on the register:John D. Archbold, $4.00 a bbl. He was a young and enthusiastic fellow, so full of his subject that he added his slogan, "$4.00 a bbl.," after his signature on the register, that no one might misunderstand his convictions. The battle cry of $4.00 a barrel was all the more striking because crude oil was selling then for much less, and this campaign for a higher price certainly did attract attention—it was much top good to be true. But if Mr. Archbold had to admit in the end that crude oil is not worth "$4,00 a bbl.," his enthusiasm, his energy, and his splendid power over men have lasted. He has always had a well-developed sense of humour, and on one serious occasion, when he was on the witness stand, he was asked by the opposing lawyer: "Mr. Archbold, are you a director of this company?" "I am." "What is your occupation in this company?" He promptly answered, "To clamour for dividends," which led the learned counsel to start afresh on another line. I can never cease to wonder at his capacity for hard work. I do not often see him now, for he has great affairs on his hands, while I live like a farmer away from active happenings in business, playing golf, planting trees; and yet I am so busy that no day is long enough. Speaking of Mr. Archbold leads me to say again that I have received much more credit than I deserve in connection with the Standard Oil Company. It was my good fortune to help to bring together the efficient men who are the controlling forces of the organization and to work hand in hand with them for many years, but it is they who have done the hard tasks. The great majority of my associations were made so many years ago, that I have reached the age when hardly a month goes by (sometimes I think hardly a week) that I am not called upon to send some message of consolation to a family with whom we have been connected, and who have met with some fresh bereavement. Only recently I counted up the names of the early associates who have passed away. Before I had finished, I found the list numbered some sixty or more. They were faithful and earnest friends; we had worked together through many difficulties, and had gone through many severe trials together. We had discussed and argued and hammered away at questions until we came to agree, and it has always been a happiness to me to feel that we had been frank and aboveboard with each other. Without this, business associates cannot get the best out of their work. It is not always the easiest of tasks to induce strong, forceful men to agree. It has always been our policy to hear patiently and discuss frankly until the last shred of evidence is on the table, before trying to reach a conclusion and to decide finally upon a course of action. In working with so many partners, the conservative ones are apt to be in the majority, and this is no doubt a desirable thing when the mere momentum of a large concern is certain to carry it forward. The men who have been very successful are correspondingly conservative, since they have much to lose in case of disaster. But fortunately there are also the aggressive and more daring ones, and they are usually the youngest in the company, perhaps few in number, but impetuous and convincing. They want to accomplish things and to move quickly, and they don't mind any amount of work or responsibility. I remember in particular an experience when the conservative influence met the progressive—shall I say?—or the daring side. At all events, this was the side I represented in this case. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. John D. Rockefeller. (2005). Random Reminiscences of Men and Events. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved September 2022 from https://www.gutenberg.org/files/17090/17090-h/17090-h.ht This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org , located at https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html.

It is Not Always Possible to Remember Just How One First Met an old Friend

Random Reminiscences of Men and Events, by John D. Rockefeller is part of the HackerNoon Books series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . Chapter I: Some Old Friends I. Some Old Friends Since these Reminiscences are really what they profess to be, random and informal, I hope I may be pardoned for setting down so many small things. In looking back over my life, the impressions which come most vividly to my mind are mental pictures of my old associates. In speaking of these friends in this chapter, I would not have it thought that many others, of whom I have not spoken, were less important to me, and I shall hope to refer to this subject of my early friends in a later chapter. It is not always possible to remember just how one first met an old friend or what one's impressions were, but I shall never forget my first meeting with Mr. John D. Archbold, who is now a vice-president of the Standard Oil Company. At that time, say thirty-five or forty years ago, I was travelling about the country visiting the point where something was happening, talking with the producers, the refiners, the agents, and actually getting acquainted. One day there was a gathering of the men somewhere near the oil regions, and when I came to the hotel, which was full of oil men, I saw this name writ large on the register: John D. Archbold, $4.00 a bbl. He was a young and enthusiastic fellow, so full of his subject that he added his slogan, "$4.00 a bbl.," after his signature on the register, that no one might misunderstand his convictions. The battle cry of $4.00 a barrel was all the more striking because crude oil was selling then for much less, and this campaign for a higher price certainly did attract attention—it was much top good to be true. But if Mr. Archbold had to admit in the end that crude oil is not worth "$4,00 a bbl.," his enthusiasm, his energy, and his splendid power over men have lasted. He has always had a well-developed sense of humour, and on one serious occasion, when he was on the witness stand, he was asked by the opposing lawyer: "Mr. Archbold, are you a director of this company?" "I am." "What is your occupation in this company?" He promptly answered, "To clamour for dividends," which led the learned counsel to start afresh on another line. I can never cease to wonder at his capacity for hard work. I do not often see him now, for he has great affairs on his hands, while I live like a farmer away from active happenings in business, playing golf, planting trees; and yet I am so busy that no day is long enough. Speaking of Mr. Archbold leads me to say again that I have received much more credit than I deserve in connection with the Standard Oil Company. It was my good fortune to help to bring together the efficient men who are the controlling forces of the organization and to work hand in hand with them for many years, but it is they who have done the hard tasks. The great majority of my associations were made so many years ago, that I have reached the age when hardly a month goes by (sometimes I think hardly a week) that I am not called upon to send some message of consolation to a family with whom we have been connected, and who have met with some fresh bereavement. Only recently I counted up the names of the early associates who have passed away. Before I had finished, I found the list numbered some sixty or more. They were faithful and earnest friends; we had worked together through many difficulties, and had gone through many severe trials together. We had discussed and argued and hammered away at questions until we came to agree, and it has always been a happiness to me to feel that we had been frank and aboveboard with each other. Without this, business associates cannot get the best out of their work. It is not always the easiest of tasks to induce strong, forceful men to agree. It has always been our policy to hear patiently and discuss frankly until the last shred of evidence is on the table, before trying to reach a conclusion and to decide finally upon a course of action. In working with so many partners, the conservative ones are apt to be in the majority, and this is no doubt a desirable thing when the mere momentum of a large concern is certain to carry it forward. The men who have been very successful are correspondingly conservative, since they have much to lose in case of disaster. But fortunately there are also the aggressive and more daring ones, and they are usually the youngest in the company, perhaps few in number, but impetuous and convincing. They want to accomplish things and to move quickly, and they don't mind any amount of work or responsibility. I remember in particular an experience when the conservative influence met the progressive—shall I say?—or the daring side. At all events, this was the side I represented in this case. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Rockefeller, John D. 2005. Essays on some unsettled Questions of Political Economy. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved May 2022 from https://www.gutenberg.org/files/17090/17090-h/17090-h.htm This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org , located at https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html.

Some Old Friends

I’ve spent a decade plus distributing technology content around the web. At , we’ve built a lot of automated systems and spend a lot of marginal labor to acquire readers around the web. As a founder, I find myself constantly thinking about what others may consider miniscule details, like what pixels and links belong in our footer. Pictured above are 24 social networks currently featured in the HackerNoon sitewide footer. Also note, each and , please use them.  Below, I’ve provided some brief context about why each network matters and a link to HackerNoon’s presence on the network. HackerNoon icon is pixelated open sourced Twitter / X So much noise around this one, but it remains the most popular place in tech to make a public statement, and host to many of . Their recent API and billing changes make no sense, developers have no clue how to build with it or how much it will cost, but when it comes to media’s impact, follow the money. Yes the , but the owner went from not the richest man while choosing to spend much of his waking hours using and building this product. The power of this media to drive his other interests is remarkable. my favorite things said about HackerNoon valuation is down 71% to the richest man GitHub Code runs the world. Nothing says I’m a technology company like an active GitHub account. While GitHub is owned by Microsoft, it doesn’t stop Alphabet (Google), Meta (Facebook), Amazon, Apple, NVIDIA and the like from hosting their most popular open source repos here. That says about all you need to know about how ingrained GitHub is to code hosting and technology distribution. Contributing to open source starts with GitHub. Youtube Youtube is the second most popular search engine. Got to be listed, and encourage your community to talk about you here. The most popular search engine is its parent company. Competition FTW! Just kidding, social networks are more about competition amongst its users than competition amongst the networks imho. Even for a company specializing in text distribution like us, hosting and distributing video content (like !) on Youtube is essential for technology communities and businesses. Web 2.5 Instagram The first three covered the hosting of text, code and video, so lets circle back to the social media king of images. Instagram is the most important social network for branding. People, including HackerNoon writers, still love sharing their personal and professional wins here. Plus, it has additional network effects as Instagram’s shown a preference to reuse / cross pollinate your network via whatever app they come up with next, i.e. . Threads Facebook While its average user seems to get older by the day, it indexes well in search, it still has and (after Google/email) it remains the most popular solution to create an account on another app. Many Americans in tech overlook Facebook as a customer and reader acquisition channel, but don’t underestimate how Facebook continues to dominate social network activity around the world, especially in developing nations. 3B+ monthly users Digg TBH, this one made my list due to nostalgia as much as performance. Digg was absolutely groundbreaking for proving that community curated news could effectively compete with corporation curated news. And I do think it’s worth splitting your social media efforts across the incumbent giants and smaller players. Our two namespaces ( & ) list on their primary explore page, and it’s under new ownership, we’ll see how it evolves. Blockchain HackerNoon Podcast RSS Feed Our podcast has gone through a number of iterations over the years, and imho everyone starting a podcast underestimates how much hard work goes into editing, distributing, scaling and running a quality podcast. But podcast RSS feeds get picked up by so many players and apps. At HackerNoon, we turn every text story into an audio file, redistribute those audio files by publishing the two top stories in each daily to our owned 20+ podcast feeds. technology category Text RSS Feed Long Live Really Simple Syndication!!! I DGAF that Google Reader is dead, a ton of the internet still relies on RSS. Plus, it has a compounding OG effect, as sites that get curated like Techmeme are the ones relying on RSS feeds. At HackerNoon, we have , an RSS feed for every tech tag ( ), an RSS feed for every contributing writer, and a bunch of custom RSS feeds built out for specific partners based on their formatting preferences. the main RSS feed example Google News Google News not only has hundreds of millions of monthly readers, but getting into Google News also means being curated in every product that uses Google News, such as new tab on Google Chrome, News tab on Google search, a bunch of places on Android phones, and a bunch of products building off the Google News API. The application process can be fickle, but they do wisely welcome niche publishers. Pinterest Thankfully, Pinterest embraces RSS, so the featured image on every HackerNoon story also automatically posts as a Pinterest post. Being in tech, we see less referral traffic from Pinterest than other industries and companies, like retail or Etsy for example. However, it is giving Google a run for its money when it comes to visual search performance. And as more of the HackerNoon community’s prompting , it’s created a . AI generated images nice AI image art board there Giphy Nothing says I work in tech like replying to your colleagues with GIFs. We’ve generated via uploading original GIFs on Giphy. It’s fun, but what value is the impression? Facebook briefly bought it before selling it at loss to Shutterstock in order to appease regulators. In terms of the network growing long term, a social media company probably would have better executed growth than a stock photography company, but for now, it remains the most popular GIF host. over one billion impressions Mastodon We haven’t really seen much traffic here, despite so many instances, it’s overall user count remains at only a couple million monthly actives. But I do love the underlying premise of content and subscriber portability that ActivityPub offers (what the Fediverse is built atop). So we think it’s a movement worth supporting, and will take a deeper look at how to integrate HackerNoon content into the Fediverse in 2024. Minds Minds, , i.e. turning its community into shareholders. It’s positioning a social network with a business model separated from surveillance capitalism. After amassing tens of thousands of followers, we’ve seen levelling engagement, but are hopeful to keep growing here as the social network grows towards mainstream. like HackerNoon rose up via equity crowdfunding Reddit Honestly, Reddit is a enigma. It has true frontpage of the internet vibes, and yet, its hosts some of the most toxic comments on the whole internet. The pros and cons of anonymous usernames. Most discussion about HackerNoon there happens outside our subreddit, and founder , so we’ll always monitor what’s going on in Reddit’s underbellies. Alexis Ohanian is a HackerNoon shareholder Golden Wikipedia’s deleted HackerNoon multiple times. It’s a impressively useful product, and a politically run site imho. I see Golden as a promising web3 hedge against Wikipedia’s monopoly of the digital encyclopedia. By combining wallet identity with fact checking of structured and unstructured data, I hope its incentive structure can lead to the creation of a trusted business encyclopedia. ProductHunt Digital products, digital launches! Anyone making digital products has come across ProductHunt launch days. The integrations with its parent company, Angellist / make for a deeper immersion in the startup ecosystem. Additionally, ProductHunt smartly switched it’s user homepage from the product launch to the companies themselves, making it stickier for companies to launch many products and aggregate it’s total reviews. WellFound Bloomberg If you’re not listed on Bloomberg, are you a notable business? The Bloomberg empire, from Terminal to its owned media on down, powers much of the business and financial world’s content and data inputs. It’s certainly worth pursuing if they will list your company and leadership team. I’m hopefully this can help validate our brand as journalists and customers run background on my company. Figma . Design, in the browser. They started as a tool (that we use and love internally at HackerNoon), and what followed was an ecosystem. The failed acquisition by Adobe is a great sign for the design community because as an independent company with more emerging competitive tools by the day, I think Figma will wisely steer into the design community as a competitive moat to its market share of the design industry. We’ll be hosting more design resources here in 2024. Adobe Newsbreak Newsbreak is the top independent local and niche news aggregator. We’ve had from Newsbreak. Unlike other news aggregators, Newsbreak walks a better line of not just stealing the content and putting their own call to actions where ads and content are, and instead, encouraging users to actually read the content on the publishers’ respective websites. 22M+ views npmjs Developers have a love/hate relationship with Javacript, but the reason they all have an opinion about is because the modern web relies on it. Part of our strategy in building a publishing platform, is splitting out what we build to manage and grow HackerNoon, into its own pieces of publishing software that others can use. Our first couple NPM packages are custom image uploader, custom rich text editor and original pixel icon library. ViewBlock . This ensures that HackerNoon and its contributing writers will have Web3 backups for all their stories. Viewblock is a third party block viewer where the user can see the text content of all HackerNoon stories in the actual blockchain signatures. In the unlikely event that HackerNoon is not accessible in your region, you could simply visit and start reading HackerNoon by clicking on any of the hashes. We backup our entire library on Arweave this wallet address HuggingFace Say it with me, GitHub for AI, GitHub for AI, GitHub for AI. We’ve been experimenting with AI models hosted on HuggingFace. As a publisher of , we plan to engage deeper with the AI community. HackerNoon’s releasing our first dataset there, the 7M+ most cited technology stories and blogs in 2022 and 2023 about the 3k+ most valuable tech companies, and later in the year, plan to host our own AI publishing model/s there. tens of thousands of AI blog posts Crunchbase Crunchbase solved its former parent company’s need for a startup database. Now as the internet’s most used startup database, it’s a much bigger business than TechCrunch itself. Very inspirational stuff for HackerNoon, a technical blogging platform with a burgeoning . Its API populates many other sites and applications, so keeping your business information up to date here keeps your business information up to date across a lot of the web. tech company database LinkedIn Linkedin, along with X, hosts the highest volume of . It’s a defacto professional network, and hundreds of contributing writers list their work on their LinkedIn profiles. As the internet increasing moves toward who wrote this as a measure for why I should trust or not trust it, LinkedIn’s emphasis on professional credentials, skills, and connections will continue to become more valuable. Additionally through LinkedIn publisher, collaborative articles, and AI assisted writing - post Microsoft acquisition it’s become a more prominent destination for hosting the professional status update. positive quotes about HackerNoon Are there any social networks we are missing and should be investing in? Let me know in the comments. Here is , and as a reminder, each and , please use them. the full list of social networks HackerNoon’s active-ish on icon is pixelated open sourced

Technology's 24 Most Important Social Networks for Content Distribution 

বিষয়বস্তু বিতরণের জন্য প্রযুক্তির 24টি সবচেয়ে গুরুত্বপূর্ণ সামাজিক নেটওয়ার্ক

Die 24 wichtigsten sozialen Netzwerke der Technologie für die Verbreitung von Inhalten

Las 24 redes sociales más importantes de la tecnología para la distribución de contenidos

Les 24 réseaux sociaux les plus importants de la technologie pour la distribution de contenu

सामग्री वितरण के लिए प्रौद्योगिकी के 24 सबसे महत्वपूर्ण सामाजिक नेटवर्क

テクノロジーのコンテンツ配信にとって最も重要な 24 のソーシャル ネットワーク

콘텐츠 배포를 위한 기술의 가장 중요한 24가지 소셜 네트워크

As 24 redes sociais mais importantes da tecnologia para distribuição de conteúdo

24 наиболее важные социальные сети для распространения контента с точки зрения технологий

Teknolojinin İçerik Dağıtımı Açısından En Önemli 24 Sosyal Ağı

24 mạng xã hội quan trọng nhất về phân phối nội dung của công nghệ

技术领域 24 个最重要的内容分发社交网络

Things To Make by Archibald Williams is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . APPARATUS FOR SIMPLE SCIENTIFIC EXPERIMENTS. here XXVI. APPARATUS FOR SIMPLE SCIENTIFIC EXPERIMENTS. Colour Discs for the Gramophone.—The gramophone, by virtue of its table revolving at a controllable speed, comes in useful for a series of optical experiments made with coloured discs bearing designs of different kinds. The material needed for these discs is cardboard, covered with white paper on one side, or the Bristol board used by artists. The discs on which the designs are drawn should be made as large as the gramophone table will take conveniently, so as to be viewed by a number of people at once. To encourage readers who do not possess a gramophone, it may be pointed out that a gramophone, is merely a convenience, and not indispensable for turning the discs, which may be revolved on a sharpened pencil or any other spindle with pointed ends. The Vanishing Spirals (Fig. 137).—This design, if spun slowly in a clockwise direction, gives one the impression that the lines all move in towards the centre. If the disc is turned in an anti-clockwise direction, the lines seem to move towards the circumference and disappear. To get the proper effect the gaze should be fixed and not attempt to follow the lines round. [Illustration: FIG. 137.] [Illustration: FIG. 138.] The Rolling Circles.—Figs. 138 and 139 are variations of the same idea. In Fig. 138 two large circles are described cutting one another and enclosing a smaller circle concentric with the disc. When spun at a certain rate the larger circles will appear to run independently round the small. The effect is heightened if the circles are given different colours. If black only is used for the large circles, the eyes should be kept half closed. In Fig. 139 two pairs of circles are described about two centres, neither of which is the centre of the disc. The pairs appear to roll independently. [Illustration: FIG. 139.] [Illustration: FIG. 140.] The Wriggling Line (Fig. 140).—If this design is revolved at a low speed and the eye is fixed on a point, the white (or coloured) line will seem to undulate in a very extraordinary manner. The line is made up of arcs of circles, and as the marking out is somewhat of a geometrical problem, a diagram (Fig. 141) is added to show how it is done. The dotted curves are those parts of the circles which do not enter into the design. Begin by marking out the big circle A for the disc. The circumference of this is divided into six equal parts (chord equal to radius), and through the points of division are drawn the six lines from the centre. Describe circles aaa, each half the diameter of A. The circles bbb are then drawn from centres on the lines RRR, and with the same radius as aaa., The same centres are used for describing the circles a1 a1 a1 and b1 b1 b1, parts of which form the inner boundary of the line. The background should be blackened and the belt left white or be painted some bright colour. [Illustration: FIG. 141.] Another optical illusion is afforded by Fig. 142. Two sets of circles are described about different centres, and the crescent-shaped areas between them coloured, the remainder of the disc being left white. The disc is revolved about the centre of the white areas, and one gets the impression that the coloured parts are portions of separate discs separated by white discs. [Illustration: FIG. 142.] [Illustration: FIG. 143.] The Magic Spokes (Fig. 143).—Place a design like this on the gramophone and let it turn at high speed. The radial lines seem but a blur. Now punch a hole one-eighth of an inch in diameter in a piece of blackened card, and, standing well away from the gramophone, apply your eye to the hole and move the card quickly to and fro. The extreme briefness of the glimpses obtained of the moving lines seems to rob them of motion, or even make them appear to be moving in the direction contrary to the actual. Instead of a single hole, one may use a number of holes punched at equal intervals round a circle, and revolve the card on the centre. If a certain speed be maintained, the spokes will appear motionless. The substitution of a long narrow slit for a circular hole gives other effects. [Illustration: FIG. 144.] A Colour Top.—Cut a 4-inch disc out of white cardboard and blacken one-half with Indian ink. On the other half draw four series of concentric black lines, as shown in Fig. 144. If the disc is mounted on a knitting needle and spun in a horizontal plane, the black lines will appear of different colours. A clockwise rotation makes the outermost lines appear a greenish blue, those nearest the centre a dark red, and the intermediate groups yellow and green. A reversal of the motion reverses the order of the colours, the red lines now being farthest from the centre. The experiment is generally most successful by artificial light, which contains a larger proportion of red and yellow rays than does sunlight. The speed at which the top revolves affects the result considerably. It should be kept moderate, any excess tending to neutralize the colours. [Illustration: FIG. 145.] The Magic Windmill.—Mark a circle 2-1/2 inches in diameter on a piece of notepaper, resting the centre leg [of the compass] so lightly that it dents without piercing the paper. With the same centre describe a 3/4-inch circle. Join the circles by eight equally spaced radial lines, and an eighth of an inch away draw dotted parallel lines, all on the same side of their fellow lines in order of rotation. Cut out along the large circle, and then with a. sharp knife follow the lines shown double in Fig. 145. This gives eight little vanes, each of which must be bent upwards to approximately the same angle round a flat ruler held with an edge on the dotted line. Next make a dent with a lead pencil at the exact centre on the vane side, and revolve the pencil until the dent is well polished. [Illustration: FIG. 146.] Hold a pin, point upwards, in the right hand, and with the left centre the mill, vanes pointing downwards, on the pin (Fig. 146). The mill will immediately commence to revolve at a steady pace, and will continue to do so indefinitely; though, if the head of the pin be stuck in, say, a piece of bread, no motion will occur. The secret is that the heat of the hand causes a very slight upward current of warmed air, which is sufficient to make the very delicately poised windmill revolve. A Pneumatic Puzzle.—For the very simple apparatus illustrated by Fig. 147 one needs only half a cotton reel, three pins, and a piece of glass or metal tubing which fits the hole in the reel. Adjust a halfpenny centrally over the hole and stick the pins into the reel at three equidistant points, so that they do not quite touch the coin, and with their ends sloping slightly outwards to allow the halfpenny to fall away. [Illustration: FIG. 147.—Apparatus for illustrating an apparent scientific paradox.] Press the coin against the reel and blow hard through the tube. One would expect the coin to fall; but, on the contrary, the harder you blow the tighter will it stick, even if the reel be pointed downwards. Only when you stop blowing will it fall to the floor. This is a very interesting experiment, and will mystify onlookers who do not understand the reason for the apparent paradox, which is this. The air blown through the reel strikes a very limited part of the nearer side of the halfpenny. In order to escape, it has to make a right-angle turn and pass between coin and reel, and, while travelling in this direction, loses most of its repulsive force. The result is that the total pressure on the underside of the coin, plus the effect of gravity, is exactly balanced by the atmospheric pressure on the outside, and the coin remains at that distance from the reel which gives equilibrium of forces. When one stops blowing, the air pressure on both sides is the same, and gravity makes the coin fall away. The function of the pins is merely to keep the halfpenny centred on the hole. If steam is used instead of human breath, a considerable weight may be hung from the disc without dislodging it. The Magic Swingers.—The easily made toy illustrated next is much more interesting than would appear from the mere picture, as it demonstrates a very striking physical phenomenon, the transference of energy. If two pendulums are hung close together from a flexible support and swung, their movements influence one another in a somewhat remarkable way—the swing of the one increasing as that of the other dies down, until a certain point is reached, after which the process is reversed, and the “dying” or “dead” pendulum commences to come to life again at the expense of the other. This alternation is repeated over and over again, until all the energy of both pendulums is exhausted. [Illustration: FIG. 148.-Magic pendulums.] To make the experiment more attractive, we substitute for the simplest possible pendulums—weights at the end of strings—small swings, each containing a figure sitting or standing on a seat, to the underside of which is attached a quarter of a pound of lead. To prevent the swings twisting, they are best made of strong wire bent as shown in Fig. 148, care being taken that the sides are of equal length, so that both hooks may press equally on the strings. Eighteen inches is a good length. The longer the swing, and the heavier the weight, the longer will the experiment last. The swings are hung, six inches apart, from a stout string stretched tightly between two well-weighted chairs or between two fixed points. The string should be at least 4 feet long. With two equally long and equally weighted pendulums, the three following experiments may be carried out:— Let one, A, start from rest. The other, B will gradually die, and A swing to and fro more and more violently, till B at last comes to a dead stop. Then A will die and B in turn get up speed. The energy originally imparted to B is thus transferred through the string from one pendulum to the other an indefinite number of times, with a slight loss at every alternation, until it is finally exhausted by friction. Swing them in opposite directions, but start A from a higher point than B. They will each alternately lose and gain motion, but will never come to rest, and will continue to swing in opposite directions—that is, while A swings north or east B will be swinging south or west, and vice versa. Start them both in the same direction, but one from a higher point than the other. There will be the same transference of energy as in (2), but neither will come to rest between alternations, and they will always swing in the same direction. Unequal Lengths.—If for one of the original pendulums we substitute one a couple of inches longer than the other, but of the same weight, the same set of three experiments will provide six variations among them, as in each case either the longer or the shorter may be started first or given the longer initial swing, as the case may be. The results are interesting throughout, and should be noted. Three or more Pendulums.—If the number of pendulums be increased to three or more, the length of all being the same, a fresh field for observation is opened. With an increase of number a decrease in the individual weighting is advisable, to prevent an undue sagging of the string. In conclusion, we may remark that a strong chain stretched between two trees and a suitable supply of rope will enable the reader and his friends to carry out all the experiments on a life-size scale. A Smoke-ring Apparatus.—Get a large tin of the self-opening kind and cut a hole 2 inches across in the bottom. Then make a neat circular hole 1-1/4 inches in diameter in the centre of a paper disc somewhat smaller than the bottom of the tin, to which it is pasted firmly on the outside. The other end—from which the lid is removed—must be covered with a piece of sheet rubber stretched fairly tight and secured to the tin by string passed over it behind the rim. An old cycle or motor car air tube, according to the size of the tin, will furnish the rubber needed; but new material, will cost only a few pence (Fig. 149). [Illustration: FIG. 149.—Smoke-ring apparatus.] A dense smoke is produced by putting in the tin two small rolls of blotting paper, one soaked in hydrochloric acid, the other in strong ammonia. The rolls should not touch. To reduce corrosion of the tin by the acid, the inside should be lined with thin card. [Illustration: FIG. 150.—Smoke-making apparatus.] A ring of smoke is projected from the hole in the card if the rubber diaphragm is pushed inwards. A slow, steady push makes a fat, lazy ring come out; a smart tap a thinner one, moving much faster. Absolutely still air is needed for the best effects, as draughts make the rings lose shape very quickly and move erratically. Given good conditions, a lot of fun can be got out of the rings by shooting one through another which has expanded somewhat, or by destroying one by striking it with another, or by extinguishing a candle set up at a distance, and so on. The experimenter should notice how a vortex ring rotates in itself while moving forward, like a rubber ring being rolled along a stick. A continuous supply of smoke can be provided by the apparatus shown in Fig. 150. The bulb of a scent spray is needed to force ammonia gas through a box, made air-tight by a rubber band round the lid, in which is a pad soaked with hydrochloric acid. The smoke formed in this box is expelled through a pipe into the ring-making box. Caution.—When dealing with hydrochloric acid, take great care not to get it on your skin or clothes, as it is a very strong corrosive. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Archibald Williams (2005). Things To Make. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/14664/pg14664-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

APPARATUS FOR SIMPLE SCIENTIFIC EXPERIMENTS.

Of Copying

On the Economy of Machinery and Manufactures by Charles Babbage is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . Economy of the Materials Employed here Chapter 9. Economy of the Materials Employed The precision with which all operations by machinery are executed, and the exact similarity of the articles thus made, produce a degree of economy in the consumption of the raw material which is, in some cases, of great importance. The earliest mode of cutting the trunk of a tree into planks, was by the use of the hatchet or the adze. It might, perhaps, be first split into three or four portions, and then each portion was reduced to a uniform surface by those instruments. With such means the quantity of plank produced would probably not equal the quantity of the raw material wasted by the process: and, if the planks were thin, would certainly fall far short of it. An improved tool, completely reverses the case: in converting a tree into thick planks, the saw causes a waste of a very small fractional part; and even in reducing it to planks of only an inch in thickness, does not waste more than an eighth part of the raw material. When the thickness of the plank is still further reduced, as is the case in cutting wood for veneering, the quantity of material destroyed again begins to bear a considerable proportion to that which is used; and hence circular saws, having a very thin blade, have been employed for such purposes. In order to economize still further the more valuable woods, Mr Brunel contrived a machine which, by a system of blades, cut off the veneer in a continuous shaving, thus rendering the whole of the piece of timber available. The rapid improvements which have taken place in the printing press during the last twenty years, afford another instance of saving in the materials consumed, which has been well ascertained by measurement, and is interesting from its connection with literature. In the old method of inking type, by large hemispherical balls stuffed and covered with leather, the printer, after taking a small portion of ink from the ink-block, was continually rolling the balls in various directions against each other, in order that a thin layer of ink might be uniformly spread over their surface. This he again transferred to the type by a kind of rolling action. In such a process, even admitting considerable skill in the operator, it could not fail to happen that a large quantity of ink should get near the edges of the balls, which, not being transferred to the type, became hard and useless, and was taken off in the form of a thick black crust. Another inconvenience also arose—the quantity of ink spread on the block not being regulated by measure, and the number and direction of the transits of the inking-balls over each other depending on the will of the operator, and being consequently irregular, it was impossible to place on the type a uniform layer of ink, of the quantity exactly sufficient for the impression. The introduction of cylindrical rollers of an elastic substance, formed by the mixture of glue and treacle, superseded the inking-balls, and produced considerable saving in the consumption of ink: but the most perfect economy was only to be produced by mechanism. When printing-presses, moved by the power of steam, were introduced, the action of these rollers was found to be well adapted to their performance; and a reservoir of ink was formed, from which a roller regularly abstracted a small quantity at each impression. From three to five other rollers spread this portion uniformly over a slab (by most ingenious contrivances varied in almost each kind of press), and another travelling roller, having fed itself on the slab, passed and repassed over the type just before it gave the impression to the paper. In order to shew that this plan of inking puts the proper quantity of ink upon the type, we must prove, first—that the quantity is not too little: this would soon have been discovered from the complaints of the public and the booksellers; and, secondly that it is not too great. This latter point was satisfactorily established by an experiment. A few hours after one side of a sheet of paper has been printed upon, the ink is sufficiently dry to allow it to receive the impression upon the other; and, as considerable pressure is made use of, the tympan on which the side first printed is laid, is guarded from soiling it by a sheet of paper called the set-off sheet. This paper receives, in succession, every sheet of the work to be printed, acquiring from them more or less of the ink, according to their dryness, or the quantity upon them. It was necessary in the former process, after about one hundred impressions, to change this set-off sheet, which then became too much soiled for further use. In the new method of printing by machinery, no such sheet is used, but a blanket is employed as its substitute; this does not require changing above once in five thousand impressions, and instances have occurred of its remaining sufficiently clean for twenty thousand. Here, then, is a proof that the quantity of superfluous ink put upon the paper in machine-printing is so small, that, if multiplied by five thousand, and in some instances even by twenty thousand, it is only sufficient to render useless a single piece of clean cloth.(1*) The following were the results of an accurate experiment upon the effect of the process just described, made at one of the largest printing establishments in the metropolis.(2*) Two hundred reams of paper were printed off, the old method of inking with balls being employed; two hundred reams of the same paper, and for the same book, were then printed off in the presses which inked their own type. The consumption of ink by the machine was to that by the balls as four to nine, or rather less than one-half. NOTES: In the very best kind of printing, it is necessary, in the old method, to change the set-off sheet once in twelve times. In printing the same kind of work by machinery, the blanket is changed once in 2000. This experiment was made at the establishment of Mr Clowes, in Stamford Street. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Charles Babbage (2003). On the Economy of Machinery and Manufactures. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/4238/pg4238.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

ONE IMPRESSION

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