Skylight

skylight

My journey in the world of technology and entrepreneurship began with a simple but profound observation during my early years. I saw that many children lacked the fundamental money-saving skills that are essential for financial independence. Inspired by this, I embarked on a path of innovation that has shaped my life’s work. Childhood Coding and Robotics: A Foundation of Innovation My initial motivation to delve into coding and robotics came from a desire to address a fundamental issue: children’s financial literacy. I noticed that young individuals were often overindulged by their parents, leading to a lack of money-saving skills. To address this challenge, I drew inspiration from my own experiences. My parents used a unique system that rewarded me with monetary incentives based on my “good behavior points,” meticulously recorded in a notebook. This system not only encouraged responsible behavior but also taught me the value of saving. This childhood experience laid the foundation for my innovative journey. Alisimba: An Innovative Solution for Financial Education Motivated by my childhood experiences, I founded Alisimba during my high school years. Alisimba was not just a project; it was a vision to provide children across China with a tool to learn essential financial skills. I envisioned an interactive smart piggy bank that could engage and educate children about money matters. Over five years of dedication and hard work, I developed over ten iterations of the “smart piggy.” This journey culminated in a remarkable achievement — Alisimba’s acquisition by the Tophacker Group. Robotics and a Grandfather’s Struggle My passion for innovation extended beyond financial education. During my summer stays at my grandparents’ house, I witnessed my grandfather’s daily struggles with Parkinson’s disease. This experience fueled my determination to create technology that could assist him. Thus, I embarked on a mission to develop a QR code-following robot capable of delivering items my grandfather needed, such as his cell phone and newspaper. My efforts bore fruit when the robot won first prize at the China Robotics Competition, a testament to the power of innovation in addressing real-world challenges. The Evolution: Alisimba, Skylight Investment, and 8 Decimal Capital My journey through Alisimba laid the groundwork for my subsequent ventures. Co-founding Skylight Investment, securing $10 million in funding, and focusing on Deep Tech startups further sharpened my entrepreneurial acumen. However, it was the creation of 8 Decimal Capital in 2017, a blockchain and DeFi investment firm with a diverse portfolio of 40+ companies and $60 million in Assets Under Management (AUM), that marked a significant milestone. These experiences equipped me with valuable insights into team leadership, talent selection, and conflict resolution, which have proven instrumental in my journey. Parallel Finance: Navigating Challenges and Successes Parallel Finance, launched in 2022 with the backing of Sequoia, Founders Fund, and Coinbase Ventures, has been a transformative venture. Within seven months of its inception, Parallel’s Total Value Locked (TVL) surged to nearly $900 million, an achievement I was immensely proud of. However, the onset of a bear market brought challenges, including internal conflicts that tested my leadership. These challenges reinforced the importance of integrity and moral standards when building a team. The Future of DeFi and Parallel Finance My long-term vision for the DeFi space envisions it as an integral part of billions of people’s daily lives. DeFi will serve as the backbone of finance, with transactions seamlessly processed through Layer 2 (L2) and Layer 3 (L3) networks. Parallel Finance is poised to play a central role in this transformation, dominating trading, lending, and staking activities within the DeFi landscape. Educational Journey and Decision-Making My unconventional educational journey, marked by leaving high school early and twice departing Stanford University, has profoundly influenced my entrepreneurial path. These experiences nurtured critical thinking and innovative decision-making skills, shaping the core values and culture of Parallel Finance. The Future of Parallel Finance Parallel Finance’s ultimate goal is to become the heartbeat of DeFi, serving a billion users globally. To achieve this, we are committed to developing a Layer 2 (L2) network that redefines the user experience. This includes eliminating gas fees, implementing account abstraction wallets for secure access, and integrating real-world assets into our blockchain. The journey continues, and I am excited to see where innovation takes us next. As I reflect on this journey, I am reminded that innovation begins with a simple observation, a spark of inspiration, and the determination to turn ideas into reality.

From Childhood Coding to Leading Parallel Finance: My Innovation Journey

A Treatise on Painting by da Vinci Leonardo, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . COLOURS IN REGARD TO LIGHT AND SHADOW. here COLOURS IN REGARD TO LIGHT AND SHADOW. Chap. CCXLIX.— Of the Light proper for painting Flesh Colour from Nature. Your window must be open to the sky, and the walls painted of a reddish colour. The summertime is the best, when the clouds conceal the sun, or else your walls on the south side of the room must be so high, as that the sun-beams cannot strike on the opposite side, in order that the reflexion of those beams may not destroy the shadows. Chap. CCL.— Of the Painter’s Window. The window which gives light to a painting-room, ought to be made of oiled paper, without any cross bar, or projecting edge at the opening, or any sharp angle in the inside of the wall, but should be slanting by degrees the whole thickness of it; and the sides be painted black. Chap. CCLI.— The Shadows of Colours. The shadows of any colour whatever must participate of that colour more or less, as it is nearer to, or more remote from the mass of shadows; and also in proportion to its distance from, or proximity to the mass of light. Chap. CCLII.— Of the Shadows of White. To any white body receiving the light from the sun, or the air, the shadows should be of a blueish cast; because white is no colour, but a receiver of all colours; and as by the fourth proposition we learn, that the surface of any object participates of the colours of other objects near it, it is evident that a white surface will participate of the colour of the air by which it is surrounded. Chap. CCLIII.— Which of the Colours will produce the darkest Shade. That shade will be the darkest which is produced by the whitest surface; this also will have a greater propensity to variety than any other surface; because white is not properly a colour, but a receiver of colours, and its surface will participate strongly of the colour of surrounding objects, but principally of black or any other dark colour, which being the most opposite to its nature, produces the most sensible difference between the shadows and the lights. Chap. CCLIV.— How to manage, when a White terminates upon another White. When one white body terminates on another of the same colour, the white of these two bodies will be either alike or not. If they be alike, that object which of the two is nearest to the eye, should be made a little darker than the other, upon the rounding of the outline; but if the object which serves as a ground to the other be not quite so white, the latter will detach of itself, without the help of any darker termination. Chap. CCLV.— On the Back-grounds of Figures. Of two objects equally light, one will appear less so if seen upon a whiter ground; and, on the contrary, it will appear a great deal lighter if upon a space of a darker shade. So flesh colour will appear pale upon a red ground, and a pale colour will appear redder upon a yellow ground. In short, colours will appear what they are not, according to the ground which surrounds them. Chap. CCLVI.— The Mode of composing History. Amongst the figures which compose an historical picture, those which are meant to appear the nearest to the eye, must have the greatest force; according to the second proposition of the third book, which says, that colour will be seen in the greatest perfection which has less air interposed between it and the eye of the beholder; and for that reason the shadows (by which we express the relievo of bodies) appear darker when near than when at a distance, being then deadened by the air which interposes. This does not happen to those shadows which are near the eye, where they will produce the greatest relievo when they are darkest. Chap. CCLVII.— Remarks concerning Lights and Shadows. Observe, that where the shadows end, there be always a kind of half-shadow to blend them with the lights. The shadow derived from any object will mix more with the light at its termination, in proportion as it is more distant from that object. But the colour of the shadow will never be simple: this is proved by the ninth proposition, which says, that the superficies of any object participates of the colours of other bodies, by which it is surrounded, although it were transparent, such as water, air, and the like: because the air receives its light from the sun, and darkness is produced by the privation of it. But as the air has no colour in itself any more than water, it receives all the colours that are between the object and the eye. The vapours mixing with the air in the lower regions near the earth, render it thick, and apt to reflect the sun’s rays on all sides, while the air above remains dark; and because light (that is, white) and darkness (that is, black), mixed together, compose the azure that becomes the colour of the sky, which is lighter or darker in proportion as the air is more or less mixed with damp vapours. Chap. CCLVIII.— Why the Shadows of Bodies upon a white Wall are blueish towards Evening. The shadows of bodies produced by the redness of the setting sun, will always be blueish. This is accounted for by the eleventh proposition, which says, that the superficies of any opake body participates of the colour of the object from which it receives the light; therefore the white wall being deprived entirely of colour, is tinged by the colour of those bodies from which it receives the light, which in this case are the sun and the sky. But because the sun is red towards the evening, and the sky is blue, the shadow on the wall not being enlightened by the sun, receives only the reflexion of the sky, and therefore will appear blue; and the rest of the wall, receiving light immediately from the sun, will participate of its red colour. Chap. CCLIX.— Of the Colour of Faces. The colour of any object will appear more or less distinct in proportion to the extent of its surface. This proportion is proved, by observing that a face appears dark at a small distance, because, being composed of many small parts, it produces a great number of shadows; and the lights being the smallest part of it, are soonest lost to the sight, leaving only the shadows, which being in a greater quantity, the whole of the face appears dark, and the more so if that face has on the head, or at the back, something whiter. Chap. CCLX.— A Precept relating to Painting. Where the shadows terminate upon the lights, observe well what parts of them are lighter than the others, and where they are more or less softened and blended; but above all remember, that young people have no sharp shadings: their flesh is transparent, something like what we observe when we put our hand between the sun and eyes; it appears reddish, and of a transparent brightness. If you wish to know what kind of shadow will suit the flesh colour you are painting, place one of your fingers close to your picture, so as to cast a shadow upon it, and according as you wish it either lighter or darker, put it nearer or farther from it, and imitate it. Chap. CCLXI.— Of Colours in Shadow. It happens very often that the shadows of an opake body do not retain the same colour as the lights. Sometimes they will be greenish, while the lights are reddish, although this opake body be all over of one uniform colour. This happens when the light falls upon the object (we will suppose from the East), and tinges that side with its own colour. In the West we will suppose another opake body of a colour different from the first, but receiving the same light. This last will reflect its colour towards the East, and strike the first with its rays on the opposite side, where they will be stopped, and remain with their full colour and brightness. We often see a white object with red lights, and the shades of a blueish cast; this we observe particularly in mountains covered with snow, at sun-set, when the effulgence of its rays makes the horizon appear all on fire. Chap. CCLXII.— Of the Choice of Lights. Whatever object you intend to represent is to be supposed situated in a particular light, and that entirely of your own choosing. If you imagine such objects to be in the country, and the sun be overcast, they will be surrounded by a great quantity of general light. If the sun strikes upon those objects, then the shadows will be very dark, in proportion to the lights, and will be determined and sharp; the primitive as well as the secondary ones. These shadows will vary from the lights in colour, because on that side the object receives a reflected light hue from the azure of the air, which tinges that part; and this is particularly observable in white objects. That side which receives the light from the sun, participates also of the colour of that. This may be particularly observed in the evening, when the sun is setting between the clouds, which it reddens; those clouds being tinged with the colour of the body illuminating them, the red colour of the clouds, with that of the sun, casts a hue on those parts which receive the light from them. On the contrary, those parts which are not turned towards that side of the sky, remain of the colour of the air, so that the former and the latter are of two different colours. This we must not lose sight of, that, knowing the cause of those lights and shades, it be made apparent in the effect, or else the work will be false and absurd. But if a figure be situated within a house, and seen from without, such figure will have its shadows very soft; and if the beholder stands in the line of the light, it will acquire grace, and do credit to the painter, as it will have great relief in the lights, and soft and well-blended shadows, particularly in those parts where the inside of the room appears less obscure, because there the shadows are almost imperceptible: the cause of which we shall explain in its proper place. 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. da Vinci Leonardo (2014). A Treatise on Painting. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/46915/pg46915-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

COLOURS IN REGARD TO LIGHT AND SHADOW

Scientific American Supplement, No. 799, April 25, 1891 by Various, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . THE RAISING OF THE ULUNDA. here THE RAISING OF THE ULUNDA. Shortly after the recovery of the Ulunda, below described, the North American and West Indian squadron of the Royal Navy visited Halifax, Nova Scotia. The simple and novel means adopted for raising the ship attracted considerable attention among the officers of the fleet, and by way of stimulating the studies of the junior officers in this branch of their duties, a prize was offered for the best essay on the subject, to be competed for by the midshipmen of the various ships. The essays were adjudicated upon by Captain W.G. Stopford, of the flag ship—H.M.S. Bellerophon—and the first prize was awarded to the following paper, written by Mr. A. Gordon Smith, of H.M.S. Canada. The article needs no apology, but it is only just, says the , to mention the fact that the writer is not yet eighteen years of age. Engineer The steamship Ulunda, on the remarkable raising and recovery of which this paper is written, is an iron screw ship of 1,161 tons, until lately belonging to the Furness line. It is a sister ship to the Damara, of the same company, and was built and engined by Alex. Stephens, shipbuilder and engineer, at Glasgow, being fitted with compound vertical engines, of 200 nominal horse power, having two cylinders of 33 inches and 66 inches diameter respectively, which are capable of sixty-five revolutions per minute, and give a speed of twelve knots an hour. For supplying steam to the engines there are two return-tube boilers, each having three furnaces, and there is also a donkey boiler, which is used in harbor for working the four steam winches on deck. She is divided into seven watertight compartments by athwartship bulkheads. The foremost one is the usual collision bulkhead. Between this and the foremost engine room bulkhead are Nos. 1 and 2 holds, separated by a watertight bulkhead. Abaft the after engine room are two more holds, divided in the same manner as the forward ones, and astern is another compartment, in which all stores are kept. Coal bunkers form a protection for the engines and boilers. Fore and aft the ship, as low down as possible, are a number of ballast tanks, which can be filled with or emptied of water as occasion requires to alter the trim of the ship. Extending over all holds there is a strong iron lower deck, about 8 feet below the upper deck, which is pierced with a hatch over each hold immediately under a corresponding hatch in the upper deck, for stowing and unstowing cargo. In the engine room there are six steam pumps, two of them bilge pumps, worked by the main crossheads, for clearing the engine room of water. For pumping out the ballast tanks there are two more, which have their own independent engines. The remaining two are for various purposes. Besides these there are several hand pumps on the upper deck. Having been built in 1885, the Ulunda is almost a new ship, and has been used principally as a cargo steamer, though she is provided also with a saloon and staterooms for a few passengers. She was on her way from St. John, New Brunswick, to Halifax, when during a thick fog she struck on Cowl Ledge, a reef between Bryer and Long Islands, on the southwest coast of Nova Scotia, about half a mile from the shore. The cause of the disaster was probably one of the strong tide eddies which exist in the Bay of Fundy, and which had set her in toward the shore. It was calm at the time, and she was making seven knots an hour; and, being close to the shore, leads should have been going in the chains. Had this precaution been taken, very probably she would have been able to stop or anchor in time to avert this catastrophe. There was no cargo on board, it being intended to ship one at Halifax for London. When ashore on this reef she was sold by public auction at Halifax, and fell to a syndicate of private individuals for £440. These gentlemen at once decided to raise her if possible, transport her into dock, and repair her. They commissioned Captain Kelly, of the Princess Beatrice, a ship then in harbor, to visit her and see what could be done for that purpose. He went with a hired crew to Annapolis, and from thence proceeded to the steamer by means of a tug, a distance of about forty miles. When they arrived they found the Ulunda with her head to sea, and her stern in only 2 ft. of water at low tide, with a list of 30 deg. to port and her foremast broken short off. At high tide the water flowed over the upper deck. On examination, the engine room was found full of water, which did not rise and fall with the tide, showing that it had been filled at high tide through its skylight. No. 3 hold was also full, but had a slight leak, which was shown by the water falling slowly at low tide and rising in the same manner at high water. The other three holds were hopelessly leaky. Upon investigation, it was decided to pump out the engine room compartment and No. 3 hold, and to make the iron lower deck watertight over the remaining holds. For this purpose three powerful pumps, with the necessary boilers, were obtained from Halifax, sent by rail to Annapolis, and then shipped on board a tug, from which they were hoisted into the Ulunda by means of the derricks on the mainmast. These were centrifugal pumps, capable of discharging 2,000 gallons a minute each. One was placed in the engine room, another with its suction in No. 3 hold, and when these two compartments were pumped dry, it was found that in No. 3 hold the leak was easily kept under, while in the engine room there was no leak at all. The third pump was not used. In the two foremost holds 2,000 large casks were then placed, and all the hatches over the leaky holds—Nos. 1, 2, and 4—were battened down, and made airtight with felt, pitch, tow, etc. A small hole was then made in Nos. 1 and 2 hatches, about 2 ft. square. When the tide had sunk its farthest, these two holes were closed and made perfectly airtight, in the same manner as the hatches had been. Before this took place the whole of the lower deck over the badly damaged holds had been prevented from bursting up by means of wooden shores, which were placed in rows about 4 ft. apart, and wedged firmly into position. The wood for the shores was obtained from Annapolis, and the casks from St. John. The ship went ashore on August 26, 1890. This work was commenced on September 8, and completed ten days afterward. The labor of repairing her could only be carried out at low tide, and only then with the greatest difficulty, as the decks were very slippery with weeds, etc., and inclined at an angle of 30 deg. Everything was ready for floating her off at high tide on the 18th, and the hatches were closed up on that day. She was raised off the rocks by the water rising and compressing the air in the two foremost holds, assisted by the buoyancy of the engine room and No. 3 compartments. At high water the bow was afloat, but she was aground by the stern. When, however, she was taken in tow by three tugs, she slowly slid down the reef and floated into deep water. One tug was placed on each bow, and the third was ahead. In this state she was towed into West Port, a distance of four miles, and there beached on a sheltered stretch of sand. The casks performed no part in floating the ship off, but were only there in case the great pressure of air should cause the escape of some of it, in which event all the space underneath the lower deck would soon have been occupied with water instead of air. These casks would then, of course, have served to displace a large amount of this water, and so keep her afloat. Luckily the deck did not leak, and the barrels were thus not instrumental in the raising. When beached the hatches were taken off, the casks removed, and a false deck was built about 7 ft. below the lower deck, and about 10 ft. above the keel. This was used as the bottom of the ship to take her round to Halifax, and was built in the following manner: A kind of iron platform, about 2 ft. wide, runs along the sides of the holds in the Ulunda for strengthening purposes, braced at intervals of 15 ft. by iron beams across the ship. On this was built the wooden deck. Beams for this deck were constructed of three 3 in. planks, and were laid down on the iron platform about 3½ ft. apart, and firmly wedged into the ship's side. On these beams a layer of 3 in. planks was placed in a fore-and-aft direction and nailed down; on this were three layers of felt, and on this again more planks were laid down in the same direction as before. The whole deck was then carefully calked and the sides made watertight with Portland cement. This deck only extended to the engine room bulkhead through the two foremost holds. It was prevented from bursting up by the pressure on the bottom of it, by means of shores, in the same manner as the iron deck had been served before. Shores were, therefore, connecting the three decks—the upper deck, lower deck, and wooden deck—this being done to equalize the pressure on the deck and the two permanent decks, and thus gain additional strength. extemporé No deck was built in either of the after compartments, inasmuch as No. 3 hold was kept clear of water as before by its pump, and in No. 4 the deck was not necessary. To have built one there, as in the two foremost ones, although it would have given a little more reserve of buoyancy to the ship, would have raised the stern higher than the bows, and so would have increased the upward pressure on the wooden deck, and thus have increased the liability to burst up. For the same reason, when raising the ship off the rocks, no compressed air was used in the after hold to lift the ship. The anchors and cables were in both cases transferred aft, for the same purpose, namely, to diminish the upward pressure forward. In the case of the wooden deck leaking, 200 of the same casks were placed between it and the lower deck in the foremost hold to retain some of the buoyancy of the forepart, which would otherwise be lost. No decks were built in the compartment before the collision bulkhead, as very little buoyancy was lost by that space being full of water, and all that was there was confined to that compartment by the bulkhead and the iron lower deck. While all these foregoing arrangements were being made for the exclusion of water from the inside of the ship, the engineers and firemen were employed clearing the engine room of some fifty tons of coal which had been washed from the open bunkers into the machinery by the sea, when the engine room was full and the ship on the reef. The greatest difficulty was experienced in digging out and excavating the engines from the coal and dirt, and still greater was the labor of cleaning all the mechanism and putting everything once more in an efficient steaming condition. But all was finished soon after the decks had been completed, and on October 12 she was ready for sea. On the following day she was floated off and started on her perilous voyage to Halifax, using her own engines, and making about five and a half knots an hour. Her steam pumps were by this time all ready for service to assist the big ones on deck in an emergency. She anchored once on her way round, at Shelburne, on the coast of Nova Scotia, arriving at Halifax at 1 p.m. on October 17. The trip round was a very anxious time for all hands, more especially when they were overtaken by a fresh gale in the Atlantic, for the forward deck was very liable to be burst up with the increased pressure on it caused by the pitching of the ship; also the rudder was entirely unable to bear any strain on it, because the lower part of the rudder post was unconnected with the stern post, part of the stern framing which connects the two having been broken off. Any heavy sea was therefore likely to carry away the rudder altogether, or the same accident might happen if the helm was put down too hard, rendering the ship unmanageable. She was placed in dry dock as soon as she arrived at Halifax, and it was not until then that the full extent of the damages, caused by the pounding on the rocks, could be fully realized. The first 20 feet of the keel had been torn completely out, and about 30 feet from the stern there was an immense hole, with the thick plates torn and bent like paper, the framing and stanchions being twisted into all sorts of shapes almost beyond recognition. Under the foremast the bottom of the ship was bent up in the form of an arch, having been raised 4 feet above its natural position, with an immense hole punctured on the starboard side, besides several smaller ones. Also the aftermost 20 feet of keel was torn and jagged, with several small holes in the skin, and the lower portion of the stern framing was broken off, leaving the rudder post to hang down unsupported at its extremity. It would strike one on looking at these gaping wounds that it would be nearly impossible to place the Ulunda in an efficient condition again, but the work of renewing the damaged plates is being carried out at a great rate, and in three months' time it is hoped that all the repairs necessary will be completed and the ship once more doing her duty. She has already cost her owners some $10,000, and $40,000 are estimated to cover all future repairs. The foremast was snapped off in a somewhat novel manner. She was pivoted on the rocks by her bows, and at high tide, the day after she struck, a breeze sprang up and turned her round; the tide sinking again, the whole weight of the ship came on the bottom of the ship where she was then touching, namely, just on the spot where the foremost was stepped, and right astern, leaving the center portion of the ship unsupported. This caused the foremast to rise, and it being held down by wire rigging, it snapped in several places, at the same time tearing up the shrouds from the deck. This accounts also for the arch-like bulge in the bottom at that spot and for the damages astern; also for the fact that Captain Kelly discovered the ship with her head to sea. Another incident happened when the ship was just rising off the rocks, which nearly resulted in a catastrophe. When the ship was just beginning to lift, the leak in No. 3 compartment was found to be gaining on its pump. A diver was at once sent down to ascertain the cause, and he found that a small hole, about 6 inches square, had been punctured in the skin, which until then had been kept tight by the rock that had caused it. It was necessary to close this leak at once. An iron bolt, which was screwed for a nut at one end, was obtained and passed through a strong piece of wood about 2 feet square. The inside of this board was cushioned with canvas and oakum, and it was taken down outside the ship by the diver and placed over the hole, with the feathered end of the bolt sticking through the hole; the diver was then sent down inside the hold, and with a nut set up the whole cushion until the flow of water was stopped. The leak was thus stopped which had threatened the arrangements for floating the ship with failure. It has been seen that the method of raising the Ulunda was very simple. She was floated off by the rising tide. If there had been only a small instead of an 18 foot rise, some other mode would have to have been adopted. No attempt was made to stop any of the leaks, except the one just stated, but a deck above the lacerations was made water-tight, and this, together with the sides of the ship hanging down, formed a kind of diving bell, the pressure of air in which, caused by the water outside, acting on this deck, being the principal means of buoying up the ship, assisted by the buoyancy of the two water-tight compartments. The deck afterward built was only necessary for the safety of the ship, she being able to float without it; but it would have been suicidal to trust the ship on the Atlantic in the state she was in when raised, since with any swell on, the compressed air would escape and its place be taken by water, the buoyancy necessary for keeping her afloat being thus lost. It only remains to be said that the risks run in steaming around to Halifax by herself were, as it was, very great, and had the wind and sea been less favorable, the undertaking would probably have proved a disastrous failure. 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. Various (2004). Scientific American Supplement, No. 799, April 25, 1891. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/11649/pg11649-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

THE RAISING OF THE ULUNDA

Financial literacy is an essential life skill, yet it often receives insufficient attention in traditional education. As we stand on the precipice of a rapidly changing economic landscape, there has never been a more critical time to empower the next generation with the knowledge and tools to navigate the complex world of finance. In this article, we'll explore why teaching young talents about money is of paramount importance and how it can shape their future. Building Financial Foundations Financial education lays the groundwork for responsible financial decision-making. Young talents need to understand the basics of budgeting, saving, and investing to manage their finances effectively. By instilling these principles early, we equip them with the ability to make informed choices about their financial future. Navigating a Complex Financial World Today's financial world is intricate and interconnected. From digital payments and cryptocurrencies to complex investment instruments, young talents are faced with an array of financial options. Teaching them about these intricacies is not just about preventing financial pitfalls but also about enabling them to seize opportunities and build wealth wisely. Cultivating Responsible Spending Habits Consumerism is pervasive in today's society, making it essential to teach young talents about responsible spending. Financial education helps them distinguish between needs and wants, encouraging mindful consumption. When young individuals understand the value of money and the consequences of impulsive spending, they are better equipped to prioritize financial goals. Preparing for Financial Challenges Life is full of unexpected twists and turns, many of which have financial implications. When I was just 17, I created one of the first financial education robots in China, helping over 10,000 kids learn the habits of saving. Teaching young talents about emergency funds, insurance, and contingency planning helps them prepare for unforeseen challenges. This knowledge provides a safety net, reducing the stress and financial strain that can accompany unexpected events. Fostering Entrepreneurship and Innovation Financial education also nurtures entrepreneurial spirit and innovation. It encourages young talents to think creatively about wealth creation, entrepreneurship, and investment. By empowering them with the skills to manage their finances effectively, we enable them to turn their ideas into viable ventures and contribute to economic growth. Encouraging Financial Independence Financial independence is a goal for many young talents. It allows them to pursue their dreams, whether it's traveling the world, starting a business, or supporting causes they care about. A solid foundation in financial literacy is a key stepping stone towards achieving this autonomy, as it empowers them to make informed choices about their income, expenses, and investments. Bridging the Wealth Gap Financial education also plays a crucial role in bridging wealth gaps. It provides individuals from diverse socioeconomic backgrounds with the knowledge and skills to improve their financial situations. This empowerment can lead to greater economic equity and opportunities for all. Conclusion Teaching young talents about money is not just about dollars and cents; it's about empowering them to shape their lives and contribute positively to society. As educators, parents, and mentors, it's our responsibility to ensure that financial literacy is integrated into their education. By doing so, we equip the next generation with the tools they need to make informed financial decisions, achieve their goals, and contribute to a more financially secure and equitable future. Financial education is an investment in their future success and the well-being of society as a whole. About the Author: Yubo Ruan is a prominent figure in the tech and investment industry, boasting 13 significant science and technology invention awards and 5 patents. During his high school years, he founded Alisimba, an educational platform dedicated to children's financial education, which was later acquired by the Tophacker Group. Yubo also co-founded Skylight Investment, securing $10 million in funding and focusing on Deep Tech startups. In 2017, he initiated the establishment of 8 Decimal Capital, a blockchain and DeFi investment firm with a portfolio of 40+ companies and assets amounting to $60 million AUM. Additionally, he launched Parallel Finance in 2022, backed by Sequoia, Founders Fund, and Coinbase Ventures. Yubo's educational journey, including his time as a Stanford dropout, encompasses studies in computer science, finance, and economics. His latest project, Parallel Finance, with $130 million in Total Value Locked (TVL).

Empowering the Next Generation: The Importance of Teaching Young Talents About Money

Of Copying

WORKSHOP MACHINERY

The Mysterious Island by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . Chapter XVII here Chapter XVII Day had returned. No ray of light penetrated into the profundity of the cavern. It being high-water, the entrance was closed by the sea. But the artificial light, which escaped in long streams from the skylights of the “Nautilus” was as vivid as before, and the sheet of water shone around the floating vessel. An extreme exhaustion now overcame Captain Nemo, who had fallen back upon the divan. It was useless to contemplate removing him to Granite House, for he had expressed his wish to remain in the midst of those marvels of the “Nautilus” which millions could not have purchased, and to wait there for that death which was swiftly approaching. During a long interval of prostration, which rendered him almost unconscious, Cyrus Harding and Gideon Spilett attentively observed the condition of the dying man. It was apparent that his strength was gradually diminishing. That frame, once so robust, was now but the fragile tenement of a departing soul. All of life was concentrated in the heart and head. The engineer and reporter consulted in whispers. Was it possible to render any aid to the dying man? Might his life, if not saved, be prolonged for some days? He himself had said that no remedy could avail, and he awaited with tranquillity that death which had for him no terrors. “We can do nothing,” said Gideon Spilett. “But of what is he dying?” asked Pencroft. “Life is simply fading out,” replied the reporter. “Nevertheless,” said the sailor, “if we move him into the open air, and the light of the sun, he might perhaps recover.” “No, Pencroft,” answered the engineer, “it is useless to attempt it. Besides, Captain Nemo would never consent to leave his vessel. He has lived for a dozen years on board the ‘Nautilus,’ and on board the ‘Nautilus’ he desires to die.” Without doubt Captain Nemo heard Cyrus Harding’s reply, for he raised himself slightly, and in a voice more feeble, but always intelligible,— “You are right, sir,” he said. “I shall die here—it is my wish; and therefore I have a request to make of you.” Cyrus Harding and his companions had drawn near the divan, and now arranged the cushions in such a manner as to better support the dying man. They saw his eyes wander over all the marvels of this saloon, lighted by the electric rays which fell from the arabesques of the luminous ceiling. He surveyed, one after the other, the pictures hanging from the splendid tapestries of the partitions, the chef-d’oeuvres of the Italian, Flemish, French, and Spanish masters; the statues of marble and bronze on their pedestals; the magnificent organ, leaning against the after-partition; the aquarium, in which bloomed the most wonderful productions of the sea—marine plants, zoophytes, chaplets of pearls of inestimable value; and, finally, his eyes rested on this device, inscribed over the pediment of the museum—the motto of the “Nautilus”— “Mobilis in mobile.” His glance seemed to rest fondly for the last time on these masterpieces of art and of nature, to which he had limited his horizon during a sojourn of so many years in the abysses of the seas. Cyrus Harding respected the captain’s silence, and waited till he should speak. After some minutes, during which, doubtless, he passed in review his whole life, Captain Nemo turned to the colonists and said, “You consider yourselves, gentlemen, under some obligations to me?” “Captain, believe us that we would give our lives to prolong yours.” “Promise, then,” continued Captain Nemo, “to carry out my last wishes, and I shall be repaid for all I have done for you.” “We promise,” said Cyrus Harding. And by this promise he bound both himself and his companions. “Gentlemen,” resumed the captain, “to-morrow I shall be dead.” Herbert was about to utter an exclamation, but a sign from the captain arrested him. “To-morrow I shall die, and I desire no other tomb than the ‘Nautilus.’ It is my grave! All my friends repose in the depths of the ocean; their resting-place shall be mine.” These words were received with profound silence. “Pay attention to my wishes,” he continued. “The ‘Nautilus’ is imprisoned in this grotto, the entrance of which is blocked up; but, although egress is impossible, the vessel may at least sink in the abyss, and there bury my remains.” The colonists listened reverently to the words of the dying man. “To-morrow, after my death, Mr. Harding,” continued the captain, “yourself and companions will leave the ‘Nautilus,’ for all the treasures it contains must perish with me. One token alone will remain with you of Prince Dakkar, with whose history you are now acquainted. That coffer yonder contains diamonds of the value of many millions, most of them mementoes of the time when, husband and father, I thought happiness possible for me, and a collection of pearls gathered by my friends and myself in the depths of the ocean. Of this treasure at a future day, you may make good use. In the hands of such men as yourself and your comrades, Captain Harding, money will never be a source of danger. From on high I shall still participate in your enterprises, and I fear not but that they will prosper.” After a few moments’ repose, necessitated by his extreme weakness, Captain Nemo continued,— “To-morrow you will take the coffer, you will leave the saloon, of which you will close the door; then you will ascend on to the deck of the ‘Nautilus,’ and you will lower the mainhatch so as entirely to close the vessel.” “It shall be done, captain,” answered Cyrus Harding. “Good. You will then embark in the canoe which brought you hither; but, before leaving the ‘Nautilus,’ go to the stern and there open two large stop-cocks which you will find upon the water-line. The water will penetrate into the reservoirs, and the ‘Nautilus’ will gradually sink beneath the water to repose at the bottom of the abyss.” And comprehending a gesture of Cyrus Harding, the captain added,— “Fear nothing! You will but bury a corpse!” Neither Cyrus Harding nor his companions ventured to offer any observation to Captain Nemo. He had expressed his last wishes, and they had nothing to do but to conform to them. “I have your promise, gentlemen?” added Captain Nemo. “You have, captain,” replied the engineer. The captain thanked the colonists by a sign, and requested them to leave him for some hours. Gideon Spilett wished to remain near him, in the event of a crisis coming on, but the dying man refused, saying, “I shall live until to-morrow, sir.” All left the saloon, passed through the library and the dining-room, and arrived forward, in the machine-room where the electrical apparatus was established, which supplied not only heat and light, but the mechanical power of the “Nautilus.” The “Nautilus” was a masterpiece containing masterpieces within itself, and the engineer was struck with astonishment. The colonists mounted the platform, which rose seven or eight feet above the water. There they beheld a thick glass lenticular covering, which protected a kind of large eye, from which flashed forth light. Behind this eye was apparently a cabin containing the wheels of the rudder, and in which was stationed the helmsman, when he navigated the “Nautilus” over the bed of the ocean, which the electric rays would evidently light up to a considerable distance. Cyrus Harding and his companions remained for a time silent, for they were vividly impressed by what they had just seen and heard, and their hearts were deeply touched by the thought that he whose arm had so often aided them, the protector whom they had known but a few hours, was at the point of death. Whatever might be the judgment pronounced by posterity upon the events of this, so to speak, extra-human existence, the character of Prince Dakkar would ever remain as one of those whose memory time can never efface. “What a man!” said Pencroft. “Is it possible that he can have lived at the bottom of the sea? And it seems to me that perhaps he has not found peace there any more than elsewhere!” “The ‘Nautilus,’” observed Ayrton, “might have enabled us to leave Lincoln Island and reach some inhabited country.” “Good Heavens!” exclaimed Pencroft, “I for one would never risk myself in such a craft. To sail on the seas, good, but under the seas, never!” “I believe, Pencroft,” answered the reporter, “that the navigation of a submarine vessel such as the ‘Nautilus’ ought to be very easy, and that we should soon become accustomed to it. There would be no storms, no lee-shore to fear. At some feet beneath the surface the waters of the ocean are as calm as those of a lake.” “That may be,” replied the sailor, “but I prefer a gale of wind on board a well-found craft. A vessel is built to sail on the sea, and not beneath it.” “My friends,” said the engineer, “it is useless, at any rate as regards the ‘Nautilus,’ to discuss the question of submarine vessels. The ‘Nautilus’ is not ours, and we have not the right to dispose of it. Moreover, we could in no case avail ourselves of it. Independently of the fact that it would be impossible to get it out of this cavern, whose entrance is now closed by the uprising of the basaltic rocks, Captain Nemo’s wish is that it shall be buried with him. His wish is our law, and we will fulfil it.” After a somewhat prolonged conversation, Cyrus Harding and his companions again descended to the interior of the “Nautilus.” There they took some refreshment and returned to the saloon. Captain Nemo had somewhat rallied from the prostration which had overcome him, and his eyes shone with their wonted fire. A faint smile even curled his lips. The colonists drew around him. “Gentlemen,” said the captain, “you are brave and honest men. You have devoted yourselves to the common weal. Often have I observed your conduct. I have esteemed you—I esteem you still! Your hand, Mr. Harding.” Cyrus Harding gave his hand to the captain, who clasped it affectionately. “It is well!” he murmured. He resumed,— “But enough of myself. I have to speak concerning yourselves, and this Lincoln Island, upon which you have taken refuge. You now desire to leave it?” “To return, captain!” answered Pencroft quickly. “To return, Pencroft?” said the captain, with a smile. “I know, it is true, your love for this island. You have helped to make it what it now is, and it seems to you a paradise!” “Our project, captain,” interposed Cyrus Harding, “is to annex it to the United States, and to establish for our shipping a port so fortunately situated in this part of the Pacific.” “Your thoughts are with your country, gentlemen,” continued the captain; “your toils are for her prosperity and glory. You are right. One’s native land!—there should one live! there die! And I die far from all I loved!” “You have some last wish to transmit,” said the engineer with emotion, “some souvenir to send to those friends you have left in the mountains of India?” “No, Captain Harding; no friends remain to me! I am the last of my race, and to all whom I have known I have long been as are the dead.—But to return to yourselves. Solitude, isolation, are painful things, and beyond human endurance. I die of having thought it possible to live alone! You should, therefore, dare all in the attempt to leave Lincoln Island, and see once more the land of your birth. I am aware that those wretches have destroyed the vessel you have built.” “We propose to construct a vessel,” said Gideon Spilett, “sufficiently large to convey us to the nearest land; but if we should succeed, sooner or later we shall return to Lincoln Island. We are attached to it by too many recollections ever to forget it.” “It is here that we have known Captain Nemo,” said Cyrus Harding. “It is here only that we can make our home!” added Herbert. “And here shall I sleep the sleep of eternity, if—” replied the captain. He paused for a moment, and, instead of completing the sentence, said simply,— “Mr. Harding, I wish to speak with you—alone!” The engineer’s companions, respecting the wish, retired. Cyrus Harding remained but a few minutes alone with Captain Nemo, and soon recalled his companions; but he said nothing to them of the private matters which the dying man had confided to him. Gideon Spilett now watched the captain with extreme care. It was evident that he was no longer sustained by his moral energy, which had lost the power of reaction against his physical weakness. The day closed without change. The colonists did not quit the “Nautilus” for a moment. Night arrived, although it was impossible to distinguish it from day in the cavern. Captain Nemo suffered no pain, but he was visibly sinking. His noble features, paled by the approach of death, were perfectly calm. Inaudible words escaped at intervals from his lips, bearing upon various incidents of his checkered career. Life was evidently ebbing slowly and his extremities were already cold. Once or twice more he spoke to the colonists who stood around him, and smiled on them with that last smile which continues after death. At length, shortly after midnight, Captain Nemo by a supreme effort succeeded in folding his arms across his breast, as if wishing in that attitude to compose himself for death. By one o’clock his glance alone showed signs of life. A dying light gleamed in those eyes once so brilliant. Then, murmuring the words, “God and my country!” he quietly expired. Cyrus Harding, bending low closed the eyes of him who had once been the Prince Dakkar, and was now not even Captain Nemo. Herbert and Pencroft sobbed aloud. Tears fell from Ayrton’s eyes. Neb was on his knees by the reporter’s side, motionless as a statue. Then Cyrus Harding, extending his hand over the forehead of the dead, said solemnly, “May his soul be with God!” Turning to his friends, he added, “Let us pray for him whom we have lost!” Some hours later the colonists fulfilled the promise made to the captain by carrying out his dying wishes. Cyrus Harding and his companions quitted the “Nautilus,” taking with them the only memento left them by their benefactor, the coffer which contained wealth amounting to millions. The marvelous saloon, still flooded with light, had been carefully closed. The iron door leading on deck was then securely fastened in such a manner as to prevent even a drop of water from penetrating to the interior of the “Nautilus.” The colonists then descended into the canoe, which was moored to the side of the submarine vessel. The canoe was now brought around to the stern. There, at the water-line, were two large stop-cocks communicating with the reservoirs employed in the submersion of the vessel. The stop-cocks were opened, the reservoirs filled, and the “Nautilus,” slowly sinking, disappeared beneath the surface of the lake. But the colonists were yet able to follow its descent through the waves. The powerful light it gave forth lighted up the translucent water, while the cavern became gradually obscure. At length this vast effusion of electric light faded away, and soon after the “Nautilus,” now the tomb of Captain Nemo, reposed in its ocean bed. 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. Jules Verne (1998). The Mysterious Island. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/files/1268/1268-h/1268-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 , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

No ray of light penetrated into the profundity of the cavern

A Floating City and The Blockade Runners by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . Chapter XVIII here CHAPTER XVIII. The next day, the 3rd of April, from early dawn the horizon wore that peculiar aspect which the English call “blink.” It was of that misty white colour which signifies that icebergs are not far distant; in fact the “Great Eastern” was ploughing those seas on which float the first blocks of ice detached from the icebergs in Davis’ Straits. A special watch was kept, in order to avoid the rude collision with these enormous blocks. There was a strong westerly wind blowing; strips of clouds, or rather shreds of vapour, hung over the sea, through which glimpses of blue sky appeared. A dull thudding noise came from the waves tossed by the wind, and drops of water, seemingly pulverized, evaporated in foam. Neither Fabian, Captain Corsican, nor Doctor Pitferge had yet come on deck, so I went towards the bows, where the junction of the bulwarks formed a comfortable angle, a kind of retreat, in which like a hermit, one could retire from the world. I took my place in this corner, sitting on a skylight, and my feet resting on an enormous pulley; the wind being dead ahead passed over without touching me. This was a good place for reflection. From here I had a view of the whole immensity of the ship; I could see the long slanting ropes of the rigging at the stern. On the first level a top-man, hanging in the mizen-shrouds, held himself up with one hand, whilst with the other he worked with a remarkable dexterity. On the deck below him paced the officer on watch, peering through the mists. On the bridge, at the stern, I caught a glimpse of an officer, his back rounded, and his head muffled in a hood, struggling against the gusts of wind. I could distinguish nothing of the sea, except a bluish horizontal line discernible behind the paddles. Urged on by her powerful engines, the narrow stem of the steam-ship cut the waves, with a hissing sound, like that when the sides of a boiler are heated by a roaring fire. But the colossal ship, with the wind ahead, and borne on three waves, hardly felt the movement of the sea, which would have shaken any other steamer with its pitchings. At half-past twelve the notice stated that we were in 44° 53´ North lat., and 47° 6´ W. long., and had made two hundred and twenty-seven miles in twenty-four hours only. The young couple must have scolded the wheels which did not turn, and the steam which was not at all strong enough to please them. About three o’clock the sky, swept by the wind, cleared up; the line of the horizon was once more clearly defined, the wind fell, but for a long while the sea rose in great foam-crested billows. Such a gentle breeze could not cause this swell; one might have said that the Atlantic was still sulky. At twenty-five minutes to four a three-mast ship was hailed to larboard. She hoisted her name; it was the “Illinois,” an American ship, on her way to England. At this moment Lieutenant H—— informed me that we were passing Cape Race point. We were now in the rich coasts where are obtained cod-fish, three of which would suffice to supply England and America if all the roe were hatched. The day passed without any remarkable occurrence; no accident had as yet thrown Fabian and Harry Drake together, for the Captain and I never lost sight of them. In the evening the same harmless amusement, the same reading, and songs in the grand saloon called forth, as usual, frantic applauses. As an extraordinary occurrence a lively discussion broke out between a Northerner and a Texian. The latter demanded an Emperor for the Southern States. Happily this political discussion, which threatened to degenerate into a quarrel, was put an end to by the timely arrival of an imaginary despatch, addressed to the “Ocean Times,” and conceived in these terms: “Captain Semmes, Minister of War, has made the South compensate for its ravages in Alabama.” 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. Jules Verne (2022). A Floating City and The Blockade Runners. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/files/67829/67829-h/67829-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 , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

It was of that misty white colour which signifies that icebergs

A Floating City and The Blockade Runners by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . Chapter VII. here CHAPTER VII. I said that the length of the “Great Eastern” exceeded two hectometres. For the benefit of those partial to comparisons, I will add that it is a third longer than the “Pont des Arts;” in reality this steam-ship measures 673 feet at the load water-line, between the perpendiculars; the upper deck is 680 feet from stem to stern; that is to say, its length is double that of the largest transatlantic steamers; its width amidships is about 71 feet, and behind the paddles about 107 feet. The hull of the “Great Eastern” is proof against the most formidable seas; it is double, and is composed of a number of cells placed between the deck and hold; besides these, thirteen compartments, separated by water-tight partitions, increase the security against fire or the inlet of water. Ten thousand tons of iron were used in the construction of this hull, and 3,000,000 rivets secured the iron plates on her sides. The “Great Eastern” draws 30 feet of water with a cargo of 28,500 tons, and with a light cargo, from 20 to 30 feet. She is capable of receiving 10,000 passengers, so that out of the 373 principal districts in France, 274 are less populated than this floating sub-prefecture with its average number of passengers. The lines of the “Great Eastern” are very elongated; her straight stem is pierced with hawse-holes, through which the anchor-chains pass; no signs of dents or protuberances are to be seen on her finely-cut bows, but the slight sweep of her rounded stern somewhat mars the general effect. From the deck rise six masts and five chimneys. The three masts in front are the “fore-gigger” and the “fore-mast” (both of them mizen-masts) and the “main-mast.” The last three astern are the “after-main-mast,” “mizen-mast,” and “after-gigger.” The fore-masts and the main-masts carry the schooner-sails, the top-sails, and the gallant-sails; the four other masts are only rigged with ordinary sails; the whole forming 5400 square yards of good canvas. On the spacious mastheads of the second and third masts a band of soldiers could easily manœuvre. Of these six masts, supported by shrouds and metallic back-stays, the second, third, and fourth are made of sheet-iron, and are really masterpieces of ironwork. At the base they measure 43 inches in diameter, and the largest (the main-mast) rises to the height of 207 French feet, which is higher than the towers of Notre Dame. As to the chimneys, the two belonging to the paddle-engine and the three belonging to the screw, they are enormous cylinders, 90 feet high, supported by chains fastened to the upper deck. The arrangements with regard to the interior are admirable. The laundries and the crew’s berths are shut off at the fore-part, then come the ladies’ saloon and a grand saloon ornamented with lustres, swinging lamps, and pictures. These magnificent rooms are lighted by side skylights, supported on elegant-gilded pillars, and communicate with the upper deck by wide staircases with metallic steps and mahogany balusters. On deck are arranged four rows of cabins separated by a passage, some are reached by a landing, others on a lower story by private staircases. At the stern the three immense dining-rooms run in the same direction as the cabins, a passage leads from the saloons at the stern to those at the bows round the paddle-engine, between its sheet-iron partitions and the ship’s offices. The engines of the “Great Eastern” are justly considered as masterpieces—I was going to say of clock-work, for there is nothing more astonishing than to see this enormous machine working with the precision and ease of a clock, a singular contrast to the screw, which works rapidly and furiously, as though getting itself into a rage. Independently of these two engines, the “Great Eastern” possesses six auxiliary ones to work the capstans, so that it is evident steam plays an important part on board. Such is this steam-ship, without equal and known everywhere; which, however, did not hinder a French captain from making this remark in his log-book: “Passed a ship with six masts and five chimneys, supposed to be the ‘Great Eastern.’” naïve 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. Jules Verne (2022). A Floating City and The Blockade Runners. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/files/67829/67829-h/67829-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 , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

The length of the “Great Eastern” exceeded two hectometres

A Floating City and The Blockade Runners by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . Chapter VI here CHAPTER VI. The next day, the 27th of March, the “Great Eastern” coasted along the deeply-indented Irish shore. I had chosen my cabin at the bows; it was a small room well lighted by two skylights. A second row of cabins separated it from the first saloon, so that neither the noise of conversation, nor the rattling of pianos, which were not wanting on board, could reach me. It was an isolated cabin; the furniture consisted of a sofa, a bedstead, and a toilet-table. The next morning at seven o’clock, having crossed the first two rooms, I went on deck. A few passengers were already pacing the upper decks; an almost imperceptible swell balanced the steamer; the wind, however, was high, but the sea, protected by the coast, was comparatively calm. From the poop of the smoking-room, I perceived that long line of shore, the continual verdure of which has won for it the name of “Emerald Coast.” A few solitary houses, a string of tide-waiters, a wreath of white smoke curling from between two hills, indicating the passing of a train, an isolated signal-post making grimacing gestures to the vessels at large, here and there animated the scene. The sea between us and the coast was of a dull green shade; there was a fresh breeze blowing, mists floated above the water like spray. Numerous vessels, brigs and schooners, were awaiting the tide; steamers puffing away their black smoke were soon distanced by the “Great Eastern,” although she was going at a very moderate speed. Soon we came in sight of Queenstown, a small “calling-place,” before which several fishermen’s boats were at work. It is here that all ships bound for Liverpool, whether steamers or sailing-ships, throw out their despatch-bags, which are carried to Dublin in a few hours by an express train always in readiness. From Dublin they are conveyed across the channel to Holyhead by a fast steamer, so that despatches thus sent are one day in advance of the most rapid Transatlantic steamers. About nine o’clock the bearings of the “Great Eastern” were west-north-west. I was just going on deck, when I met Captain Mac Elwin, accompanied by a friend, a tall, robust man, with a light beard and long moustache which mingled with the whiskers and left the chin bare, after the fashion of the day. This tall fellow was the exact type of an English officer; his figure was erect without stiffness, his look calm, his walk dignified but easy; his whole appearance seemed to indicate unusual courage, and I was not mistaken in him. “My friend, Archibald Corsican,” said Fabian to me, “a captain in the 22nd regiment of the Indian army, like myself.” Thus introduced, Captain Corsican and I bowed. “We hardly saw each other yesterday, Fabian,” said I, shaking Captain Mac Elwin’s hand, “we were in the bustle of departure, so that all I know about you is that it was not chance which brought you on board the ‘Great Eastern.’ I must confess that if I have anything to do with your decision—” “Undoubtedly, my dear fellow,” interrupted Fabian; “Captain Corsican and I came to Liverpool with the intention of taking our berths on board the ‘China,’ a Cunard steamer, when we heard that the ‘Great Eastern’ was going to attempt another passage from England to America; it was a chance we might not get again, and learning that you were on board I did not hesitate, as I had not seen you since we took that delightful trip in the Scandinavian States three years ago; so now you know how it was that the tender brought us here yesterday.” “My dear Fabian,” I replied, “I believe that neither Captain Corsican nor yourself will regret your decision, as a passage across the Atlantic in this huge boat cannot fail to be interesting even to you who are so little used to the sea. But now let us talk about yourself. Your last letter, and it is not more than six weeks since I received it, bore the Bombay post-mark, so that I was justified in believing you were still with your regiment.” “We were so three weeks ago,” said Fabian, “leading the half-military, half-country life of Indian officers, employing most of our time in hunting; my friend here is a famed tiger-killer; however, as we are both single and without family ties, we thought we would let the poor wild beasts of the peninsula rest for a time, while we came to Europe to breathe a little of our native air. We obtained a year’s leave, and travelling by way of the Red Sea, Suez, and France, we reached Old England with the utmost possible speed.” “Old England,” said Captain Corsican, smiling; “we are there no longer, Fabian; we are on board an English ship, but it is freighted by a French company, and it is taking us to America; three different flags float over our heads, signifying that we are treading on Franco-Anglo-American boards.” “What does it matter,” replied Fabian, and a painful expression passed over his face; “what does it matter, so long as it whiles away the time? ‘Movement is life;’ and it is well to be able to forget the past, and kill the present by continual change. In a few days I shall be at New York, where I hope to meet again my sister and her children, whom I have not seen for several years; then we shall visit the great lakes, and descend the Mississippi as far as New Orleans, where we shall look for sport on the Amazon. From America we are going to Africa, where the lions and elephants will make the Cape their ‘rendezvous,’ in order to celebrate the arrival of Captain Corsican. Finally, we shall return and impose on the Sepoys the caprices of the metropolis.” Fabian spoke with a nervous volubility, and his breast heaved; evidently there was some great grief weighing on his mind, the cause of which I was as yet ignorant of, but with which Archibald seemed to be well acquainted. He evinced a warm friendship for Fabian, who was several years younger than himself, treating him like a younger brother, with a devotion which at times almost amounted to heroism. At this moment our conversation was interrupted by the sound of a horn, which announced the half-past twelve lunch. Four times a day, to the great satisfaction of the passengers, this shrill horn sounded: at half-past eight for breakfast, half-past twelve for lunch, four o’clock for dinner, and at seven for tea. In a few minutes the long streets were deserted, and soon the tables in the immense saloons were filled with guests. I succeeded in getting a place near Fabian and Captain Corsican. The dining-rooms were provided with four long rows of tables; the glasses and bottles placed in swing-racks kept perfectly steady; the roll of the steamer was almost imperceptible, so that the guests—men, women, and children—could eat their lunch without any fear. Numerous waiters were busy carrying round the tastily-arranged dishes, and supplying the demands for wine and beer; the Californians certainly distinguished themselves by their proclivities for champagne. Near her husband sat an old laundress, who had found gold in the San Francisco washing-tubs, emptying a bottle of champagne in no time; two or three pale, delicate-looking young ladies were eagerly devouring slices of red beef; and others discussing with evident satisfaction the merits of rhubarb tart, &c. Every one worked away in the highest spirits; one could have fancied oneself at a restaurant in the middle of Paris instead of the open sea. Lunch over, the decks were again filled; people bowed and spoke to each other in passing as formally as if they were walking in Hyde Park; children played and ran about, throwing their balls and bowling hoops as they might have done on the gravel walks of the Tuileries; the greater part of the men walked up and down smoking; the ladies, seated on folding-chairs, worked, read, or talked together, whilst the governesses and nurses looked after the children. A few corpulent Americans swung themselves backwards and forwards in their rocking-chairs; the ship’s officers were continually passing to and fro, some going to their watch on the bridge, others answering the absurd questions put to them by some of the passengers; whilst the tones of an organ and two or three pianos making a distracting discord, reached us through the lulls in the wind. About three o’clock a loud shouting was heard; the passengers crowded on to the poop; the “Great Eastern” had ranged within two cable-lengths of a vessel which she had overhauled. It was the “Propontis,” on her way to New York, which was saluting the giant of the seas on her passage, which compliment the giant returned. Land was still in sight at four o’clock, but hardly discernible through the mist which had suddenly surrounded us. Soon we saw the light of Fastenet Beacon, situated on an isolated rock. Night set in, during which we must have doubled Cape Clear, the most southerly point of Ireland. 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. Jules Verne (2022). A Floating City and The Blockade Runners. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/files/67829/67829-h/67829-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 , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

27th of March, the “Great Eastern” coasted along the deeply-indented Irish shore

A Floating City and The Blockade Runners by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . Chapter II here CHAPTER II. The deck was still nothing but an immense timber-yard given up to an army of workmen. I could not believe I was on board a ship. Several thousand men—workmen, crew, engineers, officers, mechanics, lookers-on—mingled and jostled together without the least concern, some on deck, others in the engine-room; here pacing the upper decks, there scattered in the rigging, all in an indescribable pell-mell. Here fly-wheel cranes were raising enormous pieces of cast-iron, there heavy joists were hoisted by steam-windlasses; above the engine-rooms an iron cylinder, a metal shaft in fact, was balanced. At the bows, the yards creaked as the sails were hoisted; at the stern rose a scaffolding which, doubtless, concealed some building in construction. Building, fixing, carpentering, rigging, and painting, were going on in the midst of the greatest disorder. My luggage was already on board. I asked to see Captain Anderson, and was told that he had not yet arrived; but one of the stewards undertook to install me, and had my packages carried to one of the aft-cabins. “My good fellow,” said I to him, “the ‘Great Eastern’ was announced to sail on the 20th of March, but is it possible that we can be ready in twenty-four hours? Can you tell me when we may expect to leave Liverpool?” But in this respect the steward knew no more than I did, and he left me to myself. I then made up my mind to visit all the ins and outs of this immense ant-hill, and began my walk like a tourist in a foreign town. A black mire—that British mud which is so rarely absent from the pavement of English towns—covered the deck of the steam-ship; dirty gutters wound here and there. One might have thought oneself in the worst part of Upper Thames Street, near London Bridge. I walked on, following the upper decks towards the stern. Stretching on either side were two wide streets, or rather boulevards, filled with a compact crowd; thus walking, I came to the centre of the steam-ship between the paddles, united by a double set of bridges. Here opened the pit containing the machinery of the paddle-wheels, and I had an opportunity of looking at this admirable locomotive engine. About fifty workmen were scattered on the metallic skylights, some clinging to the long suction-pumps fixing the eccentric wheels, others hanging on the cranks riveting iron wedges with enormous wrenches. After having cast a rapid glance over these fitting works, I continued my walk till I reached the bows, where the carpenters were finishing the decoration of a large saloon called the “smoking-room,” a magnificent apartment with fourteen windows; the ceiling white and gold, and wainscoted with lemon-coloured panels. Then, after having crossed a small triangular space at the bows, I reached the stem, which descends perpendicularly into the water. Turning round from this extreme point, through an opening in the mists, I saw the stern of the “Great Eastern” at a distance of more than two hundred yards. I returned by the boulevards on the starboard side, avoiding contact with the swaying pulleys and the ropes of the rigging, lashed in all directions by the wind; now keeping out of the way, here of the blows of a fly-wheel crane, and further on, of the flaming scoria which were showering from a forge like a display of fireworks. I could hardly see the tops of the masts, two hundred feet in height, which lost themselves in the mist, increased by the black smoke from the tenders and colliers. After having passed the great hatchway of the engine-rooms, I observed a “small hotel” on my left, and then the spacious side walls of a palace surmounted by a terrace, the railings of which were being varnished. At last I reached the stern of the steam-ship, and the place I had already noticed where the scaffolding was erected. Here between the last small deck cabin and the enormous gratings of the hatchways, above which rose the four wheels of the rudder, some engineers had just finished placing a steam-engine. The engine was composed of two horizontal cylinders, and presented a system of pinions, levers, and blocks which seemed to me very complicated. I did not understand at first for what it was intended, but it appeared that here, as everywhere else, the preparations were far from complete. And now, why all these delays? Why so many new arrangements on board the “Great Eastern,” a comparatively new ship? The reason may be explained in a few words. After twenty passages from England to America, one of which was marked by very serious disasters, the use of the “Great Eastern” was temporarily abandoned, and this immense ship, arranged to accommodate passengers, seemed no longer good for anything. When the first attempt to lay the Atlantic cable had failed,—partly because the number of ships which carried it was insufficient—engineers thought of the “Great Eastern.” She alone could store on board the 2100 miles of metallic wire, weighing 4500 tons. She alone, thanks to her perfect indifference to the sea, could unroll and immerse this immense cable. But special arrangements were necessary for storing away the cable in the ship’s hold. Two out of six boilers were removed, and one chimney out of three belonging to the screw engine; in their places large tanks were placed for the cable, which was immersed in water to preserve it from the effects of variation of the atmosphere; the wire thus passed from these tanks of water into the sea without suffering the least contact with the air. The laying of the cable having been successfully accomplished, and the object in view attained, the “Great Eastern” was once more left in her costly idleness. A French company, called the “Great Eastern Company, Limited,” was floated with a capital of 2,000,000 francs, with the intention of employing the immense ship for the conveyance of passengers across the Atlantic. Thus the reason for rearranging the ship to this purpose, and the consequent necessity of filling up the tanks and replacing the boilers, of enlarging the saloons in which so many people were to live during the voyage, and of building extra dining saloons, finally the arrangement of a thousand berths in the sides of the gigantic hull. The “Great Eastern” was freighted to the amount of 25,000 francs a month. Two contracts were arranged with G. Forrester and Co., of Liverpool, the first to the amount of 538,750 francs, for making new boilers for the screw; the second to the amount of 662,500 francs for general repairs, and fixings on board. Before entering upon the last undertaking, the Board of Trade required that the ship’s hull should undergo a strict examination. This costly operation accomplished, a long crack in her exterior plates was carefully repaired at a great expense, and the next proceeding was to fix the new boilers; the driving main-shaft of the wheels, which had been damaged during the last voyage, had to be replaced by a shaft, provided with two eccentric wheels, which insured the solidity of this important part. And now for the first time the “Great Eastern” was to be steered by steam. It was for this delicate operation that the engineers intended the engine which they had placed at the stern. The steersman standing on the bridge between the signal apparatus of the wheels and the screw, has before his eyes a dial provided with a moving needle, which tells him every moment the position of his rudder. In order to modify it, he has only to press his hand lightly on a small wheel, measuring hardly a foot in diameter, and placed within his reach. Immediately the valves open, the steam from the boilers rushes along the conducting tubes into the two cylinders of the small engine, the pistons move rapidly, and the rudder instantly obeys. If this plan succeeds, a man will be able to direct the gigantic body of the “Great Eastern” with one finger. For five days operations continued with distracting activity. These delays considerably affected the enterprise of the freighters, but the contractors could do no more. The day for setting sail was irrevocably settled for the 26th of March. The 25th still saw the deck strewn with all kinds of tools. During this last day, however, little by little the gangways were cleared, the scaffoldings were taken down, the fly-wheel cranes disappeared, the fixing of the engines was accomplished, the last screws and nails were driven in, the reservoirs filled with oil, and the last slab rested on its metal mortise. This day the chief engineer tried the boilers. The engine-rooms were full of steam; leaning over the hatchway, enveloped in a hot mist, I could see nothing, but I heard the long pistons groaning, and the huge cylinders noisily swaying to and fro on their solid swing blocks. The muddy waters of the Mersey were lashed into foam by the slowly revolving paddle-wheels; at the stern, the screw beat the waves with its four blades; the two engines, entirely independent of each other, were in complete working order. Towards five o’clock a small steamer, intended as a shore-boat for the “Great Eastern,” came alongside. Her movable engine was first hoisted on board by means of windlasses, but as for the steamer herself, she could not be embarked. Her steel hull was so heavy that the davits to which it was attached bent under the weight, undoubtedly this would not have occurred had they supported them with lifts. Therefore they were obliged to abandon the steamer, but there still remained on the “Great Eastern” a string of sixteen boats hanging to the davits. Everything was finished by evening; not a trace of mud was visible on the well-swept boulevards, for an army of sweepers had been at work. There was a full cargo; provisions, goods, and coal filled the stewards’ room, the store, and the coal houses. However, the steamer had not yet sunk to the load water-line, and did not draw the necessary thirty-three feet. It was an inconvenient position for the wheels, for the paddles not being sufficiently immersed, caused a great diminution in the speed. Nevertheless it was possible to set sail, and I went to bed with the hope of starting next day. I was not disappointed, for at break of dawn I saw the English, French, and American flags floating from the masts. 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. Jules Verne (2022). A Floating City and The Blockade Runners. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/files/67829/67829-h/67829-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 , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

The deck was still nothing but an immense timber-yard

THE MAN OF THE SEAS

The Man in the Brown Suit by Agatha Christie, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . Chapter XXXIII CHAPTER XXXIII I was not summoned to Sir Eustace’s presence until late in the afternoon. Eleven-o’clock tea and a substantial lunch had been served to me in my own apartment, and I felt fortified for further conflict. Sir Eustace was alone. He was walking up and down the room, and there was a gleam in his eye and a restlessness in his manner which did not escape me. He was exultant about something. There was a subtle change in his manner towards me. “I have news for you. Your young man is on his way. He will be here in a few minutes. Moderate your transports—I have something more to say. You attempted to deceive me this morning. I warned you that you would be wise to stick to the truth, and up to a certain point you obeyed me. Then you ran off the rails. You attempted to make me believe that the diamonds were in Harry Rayburn’s possession. At the time, I accepted your statement because it facilitated my task—the task of inducing you to decoy Harry Rayburn here. But, my dear Anne, the diamonds have been in my possession ever since I left the Falls—though I only discovered the fact yesterday.” “You know!” I gasped. “It may interest you to hear that it was Pagett who gave the show away. He insisted on boring me with a long pointless story about a wager and a tin of films. It didn’t take me long to put two and two together—Mrs. Blair’s distrust of Colonel Race, her agitation, her entreaty that I would take care of her souvenirs for her. The excellent Pagett had already unfastened the cases through an excess of zeal. Before leaving the hotel, I simply transferred all the rolls of films to my own pocket. They are in the corner there. I admit that I haven’t had time to examine them yet, but I notice that one is of a totally different weight to the others, rattles in a peculiar fashion, and has evidently been stuck down with seccotine, which will necessitate the use of a tin-opener. The case seems clear, does it not? And now, you see, I have you both nicely in the trap. . . . It’s a pity that you didn’t take kindly to the idea of becoming Lady Pedler.” I did not answer. I stood looking at him. There was the sound of feet on the stairs, the door was flung open, and Harry Rayburn was hustled into the room between two men. Sir Eustace flung me a look of triumph. “According to plan,” he said softly. “You amateurs will pit yourselves against professionals.” “What’s the meaning of this?” cried Harry hoarsely. “It means that you have walked into my parlour—said the spider to the fly,” remarked Sir Eustace facetiously. “My dear Rayburn, you are extraordinarily unlucky.” “You said I could come safely, Anne?” “Do not reproach her, my dear fellow. That note was written at my dictation, and the lady could not help herself. She would have been wiser not to write it, but I did not tell her so at the time. You followed her instructions, went to the curio-shop, were taken through the secret passage from the back room—and found yourself in the hands of your enemies!” Harry looked at me. I understood his glance and edged nearer to Sir Eustace. “Yes,” murmured the latter, “decidedly you are not lucky! This is—let me see, the third encounter.” “You are right,” said Harry. “This is the third encounter. Twice you have worsted me—have you never heard that the third time the luck changes? This is my round—cover him, Anne.” I was all ready. In a flash I had whipped the pistol out of my stocking and was holding it to his head. The two men guarding Harry sprang forward, but his voice stopped them. “Another step—and he dies! If they come any nearer, Anne, pull the trigger—don’t hesitate.” “I shan’t,” I replied cheerfully. “I’m rather afraid of pulling it, anyway.” I think Sir Eustace shared my fears. He was certainly shaking like a jelly. “Stay where you are,” he commanded, and the men stopped obediently. “Tell them to leave the room,” said Harry. Sir Eustace gave the order. The men filed out, and Harry shot the bolt across the door behind them. “Now we can talk,” he observed grimly, and coming across the room, he took the revolver out of my hand. Sir Eustace uttered a sigh of relief and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. “I’m shockingly out of condition,” he observed. “I think I must have a weak heart. I am glad that revolver is in competent hands. I didn’t trust Miss Anne with it. Well, my young friend, as you say, now we can talk. I’m willing to admit that you stole a march upon me. Where the devil that revolver came from I don’t know. I had the girl’s luggage searched when she arrived. And where did you produce it from now? You hadn’t got it on you a minute ago?” “Yes, I had,” I replied. “It was in my stocking.” “I don’t know enough about women. I ought to have studied them more,” said Sir Eustace sadly. “I wonder if Pagett would have known that?” Harry rapped sharply on the table. “Don’t play the fool. If it weren’t for your grey hairs, I’d throw you out of the window. You damned scoundrel! Grey hairs, or no grey hairs, I——” He advanced a step or two, and Sir Eustace skipped nimbly behind the table. “The young are always so violent,” he said reproachfully. “Unable to use their brains, they rely solely on their muscles. Let us talk sense. For the moment you have the upper hand. But that state of affairs cannot continue. The house is full of my men. You are hopelessly outnumbered. Your momentary ascendency has been gained by an accident——” “Has it?” Something in Harry’s voice, a grim raillery, seemed to attract Sir Eustace’s attention. He stared at him. “Has it?” said Harry again. “Sit down, Sir Eustace, and listen to what I have to say.” Still covering him with the revolver, he went on: “The cards are against you this time. To begin with, listen to that!” That was a dull banging at the door below. There were shouts, oaths, and then a sound of firing. Sir Eustace paled. “What’s that?” “Race—and his people. You didn’t know, did you, Sir Eustace, that Anne had an arrangement with me by which we should know whether communications from one to the other were genuine? Telegrams were to be signed ‘Andy,’ letters were to have the word ‘and’ crossed out somewhere in them. Anne knew that your telegram was a fake. She came here of her own free will, walked deliberately into the snare, in the hope that she might catch you in your own trap. Before leaving Kimberley she wired both to me and to Race. Mrs. Blair has been in communication with us ever since. I received the letter written at your dictation, which was just what I expected. I had already discussed the probabilities of a secret passage leading out of the curio-shop with Race, and he had discovered the place where the exit was situated.” There was a screaming, tearing sound, and a heavy explosion which shook the room. “They’re shelling this part of the town. I must get you out of here, Anne.” A bright light flared up. The house opposite was on fire. Sir Eustace had risen and was passing up and down. Harry kept him covered with the revolver. “So you see, Sir Eustace, the game is up. It was you yourself who very kindly provided us with the clue of your whereabouts. Race’s men were watching the exit of the secret passage. In spite of the precautions you took, they were successful in following me here.” Sir Eustace turned suddenly. “Very clever. Very creditable. But I’ve still a word to say. If I’ve lost the trick, so have you. You’ll never be able to bring the murder of Nadina home to me. I was in Marlow on that day, that’s all you’ve got against me. No one can prove that I even knew the woman. But you knew her, you had a motive for killing her—and your record’s against you. You’re a thief, remember, a thief. There’s one thing you don’t know, perhaps. I’ve got the diamonds. And here goes——” With an incredibly swift movement, he stooped, swung up his arm and threw. There was a tinkle of breaking glass, as the object went through the window and disappeared into the blazing mass opposite. “There goes your only hope of establishing your innocence over the Kimberley affair. And now we’ll talk. I’ll drive a bargain with you. You’ve got me cornered. Race will find all he needs in this house. There’s a chance for me if I can get away. I’m done for if I stay, but so are you, young man! There’s a skylight in the next room. A couple of minutes’ start and I shall be all right. I’ve got one or two little arrangements all ready made. You let me out that way, and give me a start—and I leave you a signed confession that I killed Nadina.” “Yes, Harry,” I cried. “Yes, yes, yes!” He turned a stern face on me. “No, Anne, a thousand times, no. You don’t know what you’re saying.” “I do. It solves everything.” “I’d never be able to look Race in the face again. I’ll take my chance, but I’m damned if I’ll let this slippery old fox get away. It’s no good, Anne. I won’t do it.” Sir Eustace chuckled. He accepted defeat without the least emotion. “Well, well,” he remarked. “You seem to have met your master, Anne. But I can assure you both that moral rectitude does not always pay.” There was a crash of rending wood, and footsteps surged up the stairs. Harry drew back the bolt. Colonel Race was the first to enter the room. His face lit at the sight of us. “You’re safe, Anne. I was afraid——” He turned to Sir Eustace. “I’ve been after you for a long time, Pedler—and at last I’ve got you.” “Everybody seems to have gone completely mad,” declared Sir Eustace airily. “These young people have been threatening me with revolvers and accusing me of the most shocking things. I don’t know what it’s all about.” “Don’t you? It means that I’ve found the ‘Colonel.’ It means that on January 8th last you were not at Cannes, but at Marlow. It means that when your tool, Madame Nadina, turned against you, you planned to do away with her—and at last we shall be able to bring the crime home to you.” “Indeed? And from whom did you get all this interesting information? From the man who is even now being looked for by the police? His evidence will be very valuable.” “We have other evidence. There is some one else who knew that Nadina was going to meet you at the Mill House.” Sir Eustace looked surprised. Colonel Race made a gesture with his hand. Arthur Minks alias the Rev. Edward Chichester alias Miss Pettigrew stepped forward. He was pale and nervous, but he spoke clearly enough: “I saw Nadina in Paris the night before she went over to England. I was posing at the time as a Russian Count. She told me of her purpose. I warned her, knowing what kind of man she had to deal with, but she did not take my advice. There was a wireless message on the table. I read it. Afterwards I thought I would have a try for the diamonds myself. In Johannesburg, Mr. Rayburn accosted me. He persuaded me to come over to his side.” Sir Eustace looked at him. He said nothing, but Minks seemed visibly to wilt. “Rats always leaving a sinking ship,” observed Sir Eustace. “I don’t care for rats. Sooner or later, I destroy vermin.” “There’s just one thing I’d like to tell you, Sir Eustace,” I remarked. “That tin you threw out of the window didn’t contain the diamonds. It had common pebbles in it. The diamonds are in a perfectly safe place. As a matter of fact, they’re in the big giraffe’s stomach. Suzanne hollowed it out, put the diamonds in with cotton wool, so that they wouldn’t rattle, and plugged it up again.” Sir Eustace looked at me for some time. His reply was characteristic: “I always did hate that blinking giraffe,” he said. “It must have been instinct.” 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. Agatha Christie (2020). The Man in the Brown Suit. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/61168/pg61168-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 www.gutenberg.org , located at https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html.

Sir Eustace’s presence

The Man in the Brown Suit by Agatha Christie, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . Chapter  XIX CHAPTER XIX It reminded me forcibly of Episode III in “The Perils of Pamela.” How often had I not sat in the sixpenny seats, eating a twopenny bar of milk chocolate, and yearning for similar things to happen to me. Well, they had happened with a vengeance. And somehow it was not nearly so amusing as I had imagined. It’s all very well on the screen—you have the comfortable knowledge that there’s bound to be an Episode IV. But in real life there was absolutely no guarantee that Anna the Adventuress might not terminate abruptly at the end of any Episode. Yes, I was in a tight place. All the things that Rayburn had said that morning came back to me with unpleasant distinctness. Tell the truth, he had said. Well, I could always do that, but was it going to help me? To begin with, would my story be believed? Would they consider it likely or possible that I had started off on this mad escapade simply on the strength of a scrap of paper smelling of moth balls? It sounded to me a wildly incredible tale. In that moment of cold sanity I cursed myself for a melodramatic idiot, and yearned for the peaceful boredom of Little Hampsly. All this passed through my mind in less time than it takes to tell. My first instinctive movement was to step backwards and feel for the handle of the door. My captor merely grinned. “Here you are and here you stay,” he remarked facetiously. I did my best to put a bold face upon the matter. “I was invited to come here by the curator of the Cape Town Museum. If I have made a mistake——” “A mistake? Oh, yes, a big mistake!” He laughed coarsely. “What right have you to detain me? I shall inform the police——” “Yap, yap, yap—like a little toy dog.” He laughed. I sat down on a chair. “I can only conclude that you are a dangerous lunatic,” I said coldly. “Indeed?” “I should like to point out to you that my friends are perfectly well aware where I have gone, and that if I have not returned by this evening, they will come in search of me. You understand?” “So your friends know where you are, do they? Which of them?” Thus challenged, I did a lightning calculation of chances. Should I mention Sir Eustace? He was a well-known man, and his name might carry weight. But if they were in touch with Pagett, they might know I was lying. Better not risk Sir Eustace. “Mrs. Blair, for one,” I said lightly. “A friend of mine with whom I am staying.” “I think not,” said my captor, slyly shaking his orange head. “You have not seen her since eleven this morning. And you received our note, bidding you come here, at lunch-time.” His words showed me how closely my movements had been followed, but I was not going to give in without a fight. “You are very clever,” I said. “Perhaps you have heard of that useful invention, the telephone? Mrs. Blair called me up on it when I was resting in my room after lunch. I told her then where I was going this afternoon.” To my great satisfaction, I saw a shade of uneasiness pass over his face. Clearly he had overlooked the possibility that Suzanne might have telephoned to me. I wished she really had done so! “Enough of this,” he said harshly, rising. “What are you going to do with me?” I asked, still endeavouring to appear composed. “Put you where you can do no harm in case your friends come after you.” For a moment my blood ran cold, but his next words reassured me. “To-morrow you’ll have some questions to answer, and after you’ve answered them we shall know what to do with you. And I can tell you, young lady, we’ve more ways than one of making obstinate little fools talk.” It was not cheering, but it was at least a respite. I had until to-morrow. This man was clearly an underling obeying the orders of a superior. Could that superior by any chance be Pagett? He called and two Kafirs appeared. I was taken upstairs. Despite my struggles, I was gagged and then bound hand and foot. The room into which they had taken me was a kind of attic right under the roof. It was dusty and showed little signs of having been occupied. The Dutchman made a mock bow and withdrew, closing the door behind him. I was quite helpless. Turn and twist as I would, I could not loosen my hands in the slightest degree, and the gag prevented me from crying out. If, by any possible chance, any one did come to the house, I could do nothing to attract their attention. Down below I heard the sound of a door shutting. Evidently the Dutchman was going out. It was maddening not to be able to do anything. I strained again at my bonds, but the knots held. I desisted at last, and either fainted or fell asleep. When I awoke I was in pain all over. It was quite dark now, and I judged that the night must be well advanced, for the moon was high in the heavens and shining down through the dusty skylight. The gag was half choking me and the stiffness and pain were unendurable. It was then that my eyes fell on a bit of broken glass lying in the corner. A moonbeam slanted right down on it, and its glistening had caught my attention. As I looked at it, an idea came into my head. My arms and legs were helpless, but surely I could still roll. Slowly and awkwardly, I set myself in motion. It was not easy. Besides being extremely painful, since I could not guard my face with my arms, it was also exceedingly difficult to keep any particular direction. I tended to roll in every direction except the one I wanted to go. In the end, however, I came right up against my objective. It almost touched my bound hands. Even then it was not easy. It took an infinity of time before I could wriggle the glass into such a position, wedged against the wall, that it would rub up and down on my bonds. It was a long heart-rending process, and I almost despaired, but in the end I succeeded in sawing through the cords that bound my wrists. The rest was a matter of time. Once I had restored the circulation to my hands by rubbing the wrists vigorously, I was able to undo the gag. One or two full breaths did a lot for me. Very soon I had undone the last knot, though even then it was some time before I could stand on my feet, but at last I stood erect, swinging my arms to and fro to restore the circulation, and wishing above all things that I could get hold of something to eat. I waited about a quarter of an hour, to be quite sure of my recovered strength. Then I tiptoed noiselessly to the door. As I had hoped, it was not locked, only latched. I unlatched it and peeped cautiously out. Everything was still. The moonlight came in through a window and showed me the dusty uncarpeted staircase. Cautiously I crept down it. Still no sound—but as I stood on the landing below, a faint murmur of voices reached me. I stopped dead and stood there for some time. A clock on the wall registered the fact that it was after midnight. I was fully aware of the risks I might run if I descended lower, but my curiosity was too much for me. With infinite precautions I prepared to explore. I crept softly down the last flight of stairs and stood in the square hall. I looked round me—and then caught my breath with a gasp. A Kafir boy was sitting by the hall door. He had not seen me, indeed I soon realized by his breathing that he was fast asleep. Should I retreat, or should I go on? The voices came from the room I had been shown into on arrival. One of them was that of my Dutch friend, the other I could not for the moment recognize, though it seemed vaguely familiar. In the end I decided that it was clearly my duty to hear all I could. I must risk the Kafir boy waking up. I crossed the hall noiselessly and knelt by the study door. For a moment or two I could hear no better. The voices were louder, but I could not distinguish what they said. I applied my eye to the keyhole instead of my ear. As I had guessed, one of the speakers was the big Dutchman. The other man was sitting outside my circumscribed range of vision. Suddenly he rose to get himself a drink. His back, black clad and decorous, came into view. Even before he turned round I knew who he was. Mr. Chichester! Now I began to make out the words. “All the same, it is dangerous. Suppose her friends come after her?” It was the big man speaking. Chichester answered him. He had dropped his clerical voice entirely. No wonder I had not recognized it. “All bluff. They haven’t an idea where she is.” “She spoke very positively.” “I dare say. I’ve looked into the matter, and we’ve nothing to fear. Anyway, it’s the ‘Colonel’s’ orders. You don’t want to go against them, I suppose?” The Dutchman ejaculated something in his own language. I judged it to be a hasty disclaimer. “But why not knock her on the head?” he growled. “It would be simple. The boat is all ready. She could be taken out to sea?” “Yes,” said Chichester meditatively. “That is what I should do. She knows too much, that is certain. But the ‘Colonel’ is a man who likes to play a lone hand—though no one else must do so.” Something in his own words seemed to awaken a memory that annoyed him. “He wants information of some kind from this girl.” He had paused before the information, and the Dutchman was quick to catch him up. “Information?” “Something of the kind.” “Diamonds,” I said to myself. “And now,” continued Chichester, “give me the lists.” For a long time their conversation was quite incomprehensible to me. It seemed to deal with large quantities of vegetables. Dates were mentioned, prices, and various names of places which I did not know. It was quite half an hour before they had finished their checking and counting. “Good,” said Chichester, and there was a sound as though he pushed back his chair. “I will take these with me for the ‘Colonel’ to see.” “When do you leave?” “Ten o’clock to-morrow morning will do.” “Do you want to see the girl before you go?” “No. There are strict orders that no one is to see her until the ‘Colonel’ comes. Is she all right?” “I looked in on her when I came in for dinner. She was asleep, I think. What about food?” “A little starvation will do no harm. The ‘Colonel’ will be here some time to-morrow. She will answer questions better if she is hungry. No one had better go near her till then. Is she securely tied up?” The Dutchman laughed. “What do you think?” They both laughed. So did I, under my breath. Then, as the sounds seemed to betoken that they were about to come out of the room, I beat a hasty retreat. I was just in time. As I reached the head of the stairs, I heard the door of the room open, and at the same time the Kafir stirred and moved. My retreat by the way of the hall door was not to be thought of. I retired prudently to the attic, gathered my bonds round me and lay down again on the floor, in case they should take it into their heads to come and look at me. They did not do so, however. After about an hour, I crept down the stairs, but the Kafir by the door was awake and humming softly to himself. I was anxious to get out of the house, but I did not quite see how to manage it. In the end I was forced to retreat to the attic again. The Kafir was clearly on guard for the night. I remained there patiently all through the sounds of early morning preparation. The men breakfasted in the hall, I could hear their voices distinctly floating up the stairs. I was getting thoroughly unnerved. How on earth was I to get out of the house? I counselled myself to be patient. A rash move might spoil everything. After breakfast came the sounds of Chichester departing. To my intense relief, the Dutchman accompanied him. I waited breathlessly. Breakfast was being cleared away, the work of the house was being done. At last, the various activities seemed to die down. I slipped out from my lair once more. Very carefully I crept down the stairs. The hall was empty. Like a flash I was across it, had unlatched the door, and was outside in the sunshine. I ran down the drive like one possessed. Once outside, I resumed a normal walk. People stared at me curiously, and I do not wonder. My face and clothes must have been covered in dust from rolling about in the attic. At last I came to a garage. I went in. “I have met with an accident,” I explained. “I want a car to take me to Cape Town at once. I must catch the boat to Durban.” I had not long to wait. Ten minutes later I was speeding along in the direction of Cape Town. I must know if Chichester was on the boat. Whether to sail on her myself or not, I could not determine, but in the end I decided to do so. Chichester would not know that I had seen him in the Villa at Muizenberg. He would doubtless lay further traps for me, but I was forewarned. And he was the man I was after, the man who was seeking the diamonds on behalf of the mysterious “Colonel.” Alas, for my plans! As I arrived at the docks, the Kilmorden Castle was steaming out to sea. And I had no means of knowing whether Chichester had sailed on her or not! 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. Agatha Christie (2020). The Man in the Brown Suit. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/61168/pg61168-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 www.gutenberg.org , located at https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html.

The peaceful boredom of Little Hampsly

This article was written by Dr. Doug Milburn, founder of Advanced Glazings, and has been published on their behalf with their permission. Many public spaces like offices, hotels, airports, gyms, and hospitals now not only , but are better-enabling people to create, collaborate and be productive in areas where well-being is intentionally optimized. How are they doing it? With a mix of new design thinking, new materials, and tech improvements aiming at a new set of outcomes. follow new safety protocols From a perspective, there are clear incentives for improving employee health and productivity. Any business owner can tell you that staff salaries and expenditures make up the bulk of operational expenses associated with occupying an office building. Indeed, over 85% of total workplace costs are spent on salaries and benefits, compared to less than 10% on rent and less than 1% on energy. business Research suggests that by making even small improvements to factors such as productivity, health, and wellbeing, businesses can experience greater financial benefit than they would from more efficient resource use in building operations. Green building design can have such a positive impact on humans and productivity that according to the , World Green Building Council Businesses are now shifting their thinking from ‘how much will green building cost my business’ to ‘how much will not investing in green building cost my business?’ Natural lighting, or daylighting, is the controlled admission of natural light into a building to reduce electric lighting and save energy. In order to be of maximum benefit it must be available to a significant percentage of the building interiors where the work gets done.. American office workers are spending up to indoors. Therefore the best way to give workers the , is to bring the outside in- something that sounds basic but is extremely complex and very easy to get wrong. 90% of their lives health benefits they find outdoors Daylighting has many benefits for human health and well-being, such as improving mood and reducing stress, while enhancing alertness and productivity. . Natural light can also lower cortisol levels, which are associated with stress and anxiety. A can improve sleep quality, energy levels, concentration, and cognitive performance. Exposure to natural light can boost serotonin levels, which regulate mood, appetite, sleep, and memory well-aligned circadian rhythm Well-lit offices also support vision and eye health. . It also stimulates the production of vitamin D, which is essential for eye health and immunity. Natural light can reduce eyestrain and headaches caused by artificial lighting or glare from screens However, many offices are not well designed to maximize natural light. Older office spaces especially can have small windows, deep floor plans, and drop ceilings that limit daylight penetration. While some modern glass “fishbowl” offices have the opposite problem: excessive or uncontrolled sunlight, causing glare, excessive heat, or visual discomfort. The science behind daylighting tech Meeting thermal goals doesn’t have to mean using less glass. Solera is a type of translucent insulated glass that combines thermally high-performance glazing with engineered light diffusers to provide uniform daylight distribution without glare or heat gain. This means rather than the light directing downward toward the floor, just as much is directed inward and upward. This redistribution means that the useful daylight is distributed deeper into a space. This maximizes daylight potential while eliminating glare and hotspots. When evaluating light diffusion, we’re reminded that all translucent materials are not equal. Transmittance of materials can vary from specular to fully diffused, or some varying degree or combination between the two. Vision glass, or conventional glazings, has purely specular transmission, i.e. light passes straight through and does not scatter. Other glazing materials such as acid etched glass, or white laminate PVB, scatter light sufficiently but at a relatively narrow angle; consequently, the brightness of those materials will vary greatly depending on your direction of view and the direction of the incident light. Products like Solera are excellent light diffusers, meaning light that it transmits is widely scattered such that the brightness is equal in all directions. Products like Solera can be used in the conventional application of glazings - for windows and skylights - to bring the right levels of natural light into any office space. However, these types of products are also being used to transform existing structures through the direct application of the glass to the structure, without a secondary structure. This is branded as SoleraWall. To optimize daylighting in office spaces, architects and design teams need to consider several factors, including the direction of sunlight, window-to-wall ratio (the percentage of exterior wall area covered by windows) and glazing performance. Using a combination of landscaping, window size optimization, thermally high-performance glazing selection, daylight redirection techniques, and solar shading devices can help any office space achieve optimal daylight levels for visual and thermal comfort, regardless of climate. Daylighting is not only a way to save energy and money, but also a way to improve well-being and performance in office spaces. Everyone responds well to walking into a building with reduced glare, great air quality, and pleasant views. Finance departments and CEOs will appreciate the energy greener offices. By designing office spaces that allow natural light to enter in a controlled and balanced way, employers and employees can enjoy the mutual benefits of taking this important step towards adopting green building practices. cost-savings and asset value of building or retrofitting About Doug Milburn As a long-time entrepreneur and innovator, Dr. Doug Milburn, founder of , thrives on solving problems. For more than 35 years, he’s brought passion and vision to manufacturing, engineering, software development and process engineering. Throughout his leadership, Dr. Milburn has aimed to create great workplaces by shaping a company’s success through corporate values and ethical guidelines. Advanced Glazings

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