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Part 6 out of 6
he answered cheerfully: "Yes, I do, for you have one of the best
and noblest gifts a woman can possess. Music and poetry are fine
things, and I don't wonder you want them, or that you envy the
pleasant fame they bring. I've felt just so, and been ready to ask
why it didn't please heaven to be more generous to some people, so
you needn't be ashamed to tell me all about it."
"I know I ought to be contented, but I'm not. My life is very
comfortable, but so quiet and uneventful, I get tired of it and want
to launch out as the others have, and do something, or at least try.
I'm glad you think it isn't very bad of me, and I'd like to know what
my gift is," said Rose, looking less despondent already.
"The art of living for others so patiently and sweetly that we enjoy
it as we do the sunshine, and are not half grateful enough for the
great blessing."
"It is very kind of you to say so, but I think I'd like a little fun and
fame nevertheless." And Rose did not look as thankful as she
"Very natural, dear, but the fun and the fame do not last, while the
memory of a real helper is kept green long after poetry is forgotten
and music silent. Can't you believe that, and be happy?"
"But I do so little, nobody sees or cares, and I don't feel as if I was
really of any use," sighed Rose, thinking of the long, dull winter,
full of efforts that seemed fruitless.
"Sit here, and let us see if you really do very little and if no one
cares." And, drawing her to his knee, Dr. Alec went on, telling off
each item on one of the fingers of the soft hand he held.
"First, an infirm old aunt is kept very happy by the patient, cheerful
care of this good-for-nothing niece. Secondly, a crotchety uncle,
for whom she reads, runs, writes, and sews so willingly that he
cannot get on without her. Thirdly, various relations who are
helped in various ways. Fourthly, one dear friend never forgotten,
and a certain cousin cheered by praise which is more to him than
the loudest blast Fame could blow. Fifthly, several young girls find
her an example of many good works and ways. Sixthly, a
motherless baby is cared for as tenderly as if she were a little
sister. Seventhly, half a dozen poor ladies made comfortable; and,
lastly, some struggling boys and girls with artistic longings are put
into a pleasant room furnished with casts, studies, easels, and all
manner of helpful things, not to mention free lessons given by this
same idle girl, who now sits upon my knee owning to herself that
her gift is worth having after all."
"Indeed, I am! Uncle, I'd no idea I had done so many things to
please you, or that anyone guessed how hard I try to fill my place
usefully. I've learned to do without gratitude now I'll learn not to
care for praise, but to be contented to do my best, and have only
God know."
"He knows, and He rewards in His own good time. I think a quiet
life like this often makes itself felt in better ways than one that the
world sees and applauds, and some of the noblest are never known
till they end, leaving a void in many hearts. Yours may be one of
these if you choose to make it so, and no one will be prouder of
this success than I, unless it be Mac."
The clouds were quite gone now, and Rose was looking straight
into her uncle's face with a much happier expression when that last
word made it color brightly and the eyes glance away for a second.
Then they came back full of a tender sort of resolution as she said:
"That will be the reward I work for," and rose, as if ready to be up
and doing with renewed courage.
But her uncle held her long enough to ask quite soberly, though his
eyes laughed: "Shall I tell him that?"
"No, sir, please don't! When he is tired of other people's praise, he
will come home, and then I'll see what I can do for him," answered
Rose, slipping away to her work with the shy, happy look that
sometimes came to give to her face the charm it needed.
"He is such a thorough fellow, he never is in a hurry to go from
one thing to another. An excellent habit, but a trifle trying to
impatient people like me," said the doctor and, picking up Dulce,
who sat upon the rug with her dolly, he composed his feelings by
tossing her till she crowed with delight.
Rose heartily echoed that last remark, but said nothing aloud, only
helped her uncle off with dutiful alacrity and, when he was gone,
began to count the days till his return, wishing she had decided to
go too.
He wrote often, giving excellent accounts of the "great creatures,"
as Steve called Phebe and Mac, and seemed to find so much to do
in various ways that the second week of absence was nearly over
before he set a day for his return, promising to astonish them with
the account of his adventures.
Rose felt as if something splendid was going to happen and set her
affairs in order so that the approaching crisis might find her fully
prepared. She had "found out" now, was quite sure, and put away
all doubts and fears to be ready to welcome home the cousin
whom she was sure Uncle would bring as her reward. She was
thinking of this one day as she got out her paper to write a long
letter to poor Aunt Clara, who pined for news far away there in
Something in the task reminded her of that other lover whose
wooing ended so tragically, and opening a little drawer of
keepsakes, she took out the blue bracelet, feeling that she owed
Charlie a tender thought in the midst of her new happiness, for of
late she had forgotten him.
She had worn the trinket hidden under her black sleeve for a long
time after his death, with the regretful constancy one sometimes
shows in doing some little kindness all too late. But her arm had
grown too round to hide the ornament, the forget-me-nots had
fallen one by one, the clasp had broken, and that autumn she laid
the bracelet away, acknowledging that she had outgrown the
souvenir as well as the sentiment that gave it.
She looked at it in silence for a moment, then put it softly back
and, shutting the drawer, took up the little gray book which was
her pride, thinking as she contrasted the two men and their
influence on her life the one sad and disturbing, the other sweet
and inspiring "Charlie's was passion Mac's is love."
"Rose! Rose!" called a shrill voice, rudely breaking the pensive
reverie, and with a start, she shut the desk, exclaiming as she ran
to the door: "They have come! They have come!"
Chapter 21 HOW PHEBE EARNED HER WELCOME
Dr. Alec had not arrived, but bad tidings had, as Rose guessed the
instant her eyes fell upon Aunt Plenty, hobbling downstairs with
her cap awry, her face pale, and a letter flapping wildly in her hand
as she cried distractedly: "Oh, my boy! My boy! Sick, and I not
there to nurse him! Malignant fever, so far away. What can those
children do? Why did I let Alec go?"
Rose got her into the parlor, and while the poor old lady lamented,
she read the letter which Phebe had sent to her that she might
"break the news carefully to Rose."
DEAR MISS PLENTY, Please read this to yourself first, and tell
my little mistress as you think best. The dear doctor is very ill, but
I am with him, and shall not leave him day or night till he is safe.
So trust me, and do not be anxious, for everything shall be done
that care and skill and entire devotion can do. He would not let us
tell you before, fearing you would try to come at the risk of your
health. Indeed it would be useless, for only one nurse is needed,
and I came first, so do not let Rose or anybody else rob me of my
right to the danger and the duty. Mac has written to his father, for
Dr. Alec is now too ill to know what we do, and we both felt that
you ought to be told without further delay. He has a bad malignant
fever, caught no one can tell how, unless among some poor
emigrants whom he met wandering about quite forlorn in a strange
city. He understood Portuguese and sent them to a proper place
when they had told their story. But I fear he has suffered for his
kindness, for this fever came on rapidly, and before he knew what
it was I was there, and it was too late to send me away.
Now I can show you how grateful I am, and if need be give my life
so gladly for this friend who has been a father to me. Tell Rose his
last conscious word and thought were for her. "Don't let her come;
keep my darling safe." Oh, do obey him! Stay safely at home and,
God helping me, I'll bring Uncle Alec back in time. Mac does all I
will let him. We have the best physicians, and everything is going
as well as can be hoped till the fever turns.
Dear Miss Plenty, pray for him and for me, that I may do this one
happy thing for those who have done so much for
Your ever dutiful and loving
As Rose looked up from the letter, half stunned by the sudden
news and the great danger, she found that the old lady had already
stopped useless bewailing and was praying heartily, like one who
knew well where help was to be found. Rose went and knelt down
at her knee, laying her face on the clasped hands in her lap, and for
a few minutes neither wept nor spoke. Then a stifled sob broke
from the girl, and Aunt Plenty gathered the young head in her
arms, saying, with the slow tears of age trickling down her own
withered cheeks: "Bear up, my lamb, bear up. The good Lord won't
take him from us I am sure and that brave child will be allowed to
pay her debt to him. I feel she will."
"But I want to help. I must go, Aunty, I must no matter what the
danger is," cried Rose, full of a tender jealousy of Phebe for being
first to brave peril for the sake of him who had been a father to
them both.
"You can't go, dear, it's no use now, and she is right to say, 'Keep
away.' I know those fevers, and the ones who nurse often take it,
and fare worse for the strain they've been through. Good girl to
stand by so bravely, to be so sensible, and not let Mac go too near!
She's a grand nurse Alec couldn't have a better, and she'll never
leave him till he's safe," said Miss Plenty excitedly.
"Ah, you begin to know her now, and value her as you ought. I
think few would have done as she has, and if she does get ill and
die, it will be our fault partly, because she'd go through fire and
water to make us do her justice and receive her as we ought," cried
Rose, proud of an example which she longed to follow.
"If she brings my boy home, I'll never say another word. She may
marry every nephew I've got, if she likes, and I'll give her my
blessing," exclaimed Aunt Plenty, feeling that no price would be
too much to pay for such a deed.
Rose was going to clap her hands, but wrung them instead,
remembering with a sudden pang that the battle was not over yet,
and it was much too soon to award the honors.
Before she could speak Uncle Mac and Aunt Jane hurried in, for
Mac's letter had come with the other, and dismay fell upon the
family at the thought of danger to the well-beloved Uncle Alec.
His brother decided to go at once, and Aunt Jane insisted on
accompanying him, though all agreed that nothing could be done
but wait, and leave Phebe at her post as long as she held out, since
it was too late to save her from danger now and Mac reported her
quite equal to the task.
Great was the hurry and confusion till the relief party was off.
Aunt Plenty was heartbroken that she could not go with them, but
felt that she was too infirm to be useful and, like a sensible old
soul, tried to content herself with preparing all sorts of comforts
for the invalid. Rose was less patient, and at first had wild ideas of
setting off alone and forcing her way to the spot where all her
thoughts now centered. But before she could carry out any rash
project, Aunt Myra's palpitations set in so alarmingly that they did
good service for once and kept Rose busy taking her last directions
and trying to soothe her dying bed, for each attack was declared
fatal till the patient demanded toast and tea, when hope was again
allowable and the rally began.
The news flew fast, as such tidings always do, and Aunt Plenty
was constantly employed in answering inquiries, for her knocker
kept up a steady tattoo for several days. All sorts of people came:
gentlefolk and paupers, children with anxious little faces, old
people full of sympathy, pretty girls sobbing as they went away,
and young men who relieved their feelings by swearing at all
emigrants in general and Portuguese in particular. It was touching
and comforting to see how many loved the good man who was
known only by his benefactions and now lay suffering far away,
quite unconscious how many unsuspected charities were brought
to light by this grateful solicitude as hidden flowers spring up
when warm rains fall.
If Rose had ever felt that the gift of living for others was a poor
one, she saw now how beautiful and blessed it was how rich the
returns, how wide the influence, how much more precious the
tender tie which knit so many hearts together than any breath of
fame or brilliant talent that dazzled but did not win and warm. In
after years she found how true her uncle's words had been and,
listening to eulogies of great men, felt less moved and inspired by
praises of their splendid gifts than by the sight of some good man's
patient labor for the poorest of his kind. Her heroes ceased to be
the world's favorites and became such as Garrison fighting for his
chosen people; Howe restoring lost senses to the deaf, the dumb,
and blind; Sumner unbribable, when other men were bought and
sold and many a large-hearted woman working as quietly as Abby
Gibbons, who for thirty years had made Christmas merry for two
hundred little paupers in a city almshouse, besides saving
Magdalens and teaching convicts.
The lesson came to Rose when she was ready for it, and showed
her what a noble profession philanthropy is, made her glad of her
choice, and helped fit her for a long life full of the loving labor and
sweet satisfaction unostentatious charity brings to those who ask
no reward and are content if "only God knows."
Several anxious weeks went by with wearing fluctuations of hope
and fear, for Life and Death fought over the prize each wanted, and
more than once Death seemed to have won. But Phebe stood at her
post, defying both danger and Death with the courage and devotion
women often show. All her soul and strength were in her work,
and when it seemed most hopeless, she cried out with the
passionate energy which seems to send such appeals straight up to
heaven: "Grant me this one boon, dear Lord, and I will never ask
another for myself!"
Such prayers avail much, and such entire devotion often seems to
work miracles when other aids are in vain. Phebe's cry was
answered, her self-forgetful task accomplished, and her long vigil
rewarded with a happy dawn. Dr. Alec always said that she kept
him alive by the force of her will, and that, during the hours when
he seemed to lie unconscious, he felt a strong, warm hand holding
his, as if keeping him away from the swift current trying to sweep
him away. The happiest hour of all her life was that in which he
knew her, looked up with the shadow of a smile in his hollow eyes,
and tried to say in his old cheery way: "Tell Rose I've turned the
corner, thanks to you, my child."
She answered very quietly, smoothed the pillow, and saw him drop
asleep again before she stole away into the other room, meaning to
write the good news, but could only throw herself down and find
relief for a full heart in the first tears she had shed for weeks. Mac
found her there, and took such care of her that she was ready to go
back to her place now indeed a post of honor while he ran off to
send home a telegram which made many hearts sing for joy and
caused Jamie, in his first burst of delight, to propose to ring all the
city bells and order out the cannon: "Saved thanks to God and
That was all, but everyone was satisfied, and everyone fell
a-crying, as if hope needed much salty water to strengthen it. That
was soon over, however, and then people went about smiling and
saying to one another, with handshakes or embraces, "He is better
no doubt of it now!" A general desire to rush away and assure
themselves of the truth pervaded the family for some days, and
nothing but awful threats from Mac, stern mandates from the
doctor, and entreaties from Phebe not to undo her work kept Miss
Plenty, Rose, and Aunt Jessie at home.
As the only way in which they could ease their minds and bear the
delay, they set about spring cleaning with an energy which scared
the spiders and drove charwomen distracted. If the old house had
been infected with smallpox, it could not have been more
vigorously scrubbed, aired, and refreshed. Early as it was, every
carpet was routed up, curtains pulled down, cushions banged, and
glory holes turned out till not a speck of dust, a last year's fly, or
stray straw could be found. Then they all sat down and rested in
such an immaculate mansion that one hardly dared to move for
fear of destroying the shining order everywhere visible.
It was late in April before this was accomplished, and the
necessary quarantine of the absentees well over. The first mild
days seemed to come early, so that Dr. Alec might return with
safety from the journey which had so nearly been his last. It was
perfectly impossible to keep any member of the family away on
that great occasion. They came from all quarters in spite of express
directions to the contrary, for the invalid was still very feeble and
no excitement must be allowed. As if the wind carried the glad
news, Uncle Jem came into port the night before; Will and
Geordie got a leave on their own responsibility; Steve would have
defied the entire faculty, had it been necessary; and Uncle Mac and
Archie said simultaneously, "Business be hanged today."
Of course the aunts arrived in all their best, all cautioning
everybody else to keep quiet and all gabbling excitedly at the least
provocation. Jamie suffered the most during that day, so divided
was he between the desire to behave well and the frantic impulse
to shout at the top of his voice, turn somersaults, and race all over
the house. Occasional bolts into the barn, where he let off steam by
roaring and dancing jigs, to the great dismay of the fat old horses
and two sedate cows, helped him to get through that trying period.
But the heart that was fullest beat and fluttered in Rose's bosom as
she went about putting spring flowers everywhere; very silent, but
so radiant with happiness that the aunts watched her, saying softly
to one another, "Could an angel look sweeter?"
If angels ever wore pale green gowns and snowdrops in their hair,
had countenances full of serenest joy, and large eyes shining with
an inward light that made them very lovely, then Rose did look
like one. But she felt like a woman and well she might, for was not
life very rich that day, when Uncle, friend, and lover were coming
back to her together? Could she ask anything more, except the
power to be to all of them the creature they believed her, and to
return the love they gave her with one as faithful, pure, and deep?
Among the portraits in the hall hung one of Dr. Alec, done soon
after his return by Charlie in one of his brief fits of inspiration.
Only a crayon, but wonderfully lifelike and carefully finished, as
few of the others were. This had been handsomely framed and now
held the place of honor, garlanded with green wreaths, while the
great Indian jar below blazed with a pyramid of hothouse flowers
sent by Kitty. Rose was giving these a last touch, with Dulce close
by, cooing over a handful of sweet "daffydowndillies," when the
sound of wheels sent her flying to the door. She meant to have
spoken the first welcome and had the first embrace, but when she
saw the altered face in the carriage, the feeble figure being borne
up the steps by all the boys, she stood motionless till Phebe caught
her in her arms, whispering with a laugh and a cry struggling in her
voice: "I did it for you, my darling, all for you!"
"Oh, Phebe, never say again you owe me anything! I never can
repay you for this," was all Rose had time to answer as they stood
one instant cheek to cheek, heart to heart, both too full of
happiness for many words.
Aunt Plenty had heard the wheels also and, as everybody rose en
masse, had said as impressively as extreme agitation would allow,
while she put her glasses on upside down and seized a lace tidy
instead of her handkerchief: "Stop! All stay here, and let me
receive Alec. Remember his weak state, and be calm, quite calm,
as I am.'
"Yes, Aunt, certainly," was the general murmur of assent, but it
was as impossible to obey as it would have been to keep feathers
still in a gale, and one irresistible impulse carried the whole
roomful into the hall to behold Aunt Plenty beautifully illustrating
her own theory of composure by waving the tidy wildly, rushing
into Dr. Alec's arms, and laughing and crying with a hysterical
abandonment which even Aunt Myra could not have surpassed.
The tearful jubilee was soon over, however, and no one seemed
the worse for it, for the instant his arms were at liberty, Dr. Alec
forgot himself and began to make other people happy by saying
seriously, though his thin face beamed paternally, as he drew
Phebe forward: "Aunt Plenty, but for this good daughter I never
should have come back to be so welcomed. Love her for my sake."
Then the old lady came out splendidly and showed her mettle, for,
turning to Phebe, she bowed her gray head as if saluting an equal
and, offering her hand, answered with repentance, admiration, and
tenderness trembling in her voice: "I'm proud to do it for her own
sake. I ask pardon for my silly prejudices, and I'll prove that I'm
sincere by where's that boy?"
There were six boys present, but the right one was in exactly the
right place at the right moment, and, seizing Archie's hand, Aunt
Plenty put Phebe's into it, trying to say something appropriately
solemn, but could not, so hugged them both and sobbed out: "If I
had a dozen nephews, I'd give them all to you, my dear, and dance
at the wedding, though I had rheumatism in every limb."
That was better than any oration, for it set them all to laughing,
and Dr. Alec was floated to the sofa on a gentle wave of
merriment. Once there, everyone but Rose and Aunt Plenty was
ordered off by Mac, who was in command now and seemed to
have sunk the poet in the physician.
"The house must be perfectly quiet, and he must go to sleep as
soon as possible after the journey, so all say 'good-bye' now and
call again tomorrow," he said, watching his uncle anxiously as he
leaned in the sofa corner, with four women taking off his wraps,
three boys contending for his overshoes, two brothers shaking
hands at short intervals, and Aunt Myra holding a bottle of strong
salts under his devoted nose every time there was an opening
With difficulty the house was partially cleared, and then, while
Aunt Plenty mounted guard over her boy, Rose stole away to see if
Mac had gone with the rest, for as yet they had hardly spoken in
the joyful flurry, though eyes and hands had met.
Chapter 22 SHORT AND SWEET
In the hall she found Steve and Kitty, for he had hidden his little
sweetheart behind the big couch, feeling that she had a right there,
having supported his spirits during the late anxiety with great
constancy and courage. They seemed so cozy, billing and cooing in
the shadow of the gay vase, that Rose would have slipped silently
away if they had not seen and called to her.
"He's not gone I guess you'll find him in the parlor," said Steve,
divining with a lover's instinct the meaning of the quick look she
had cast at the hat rack as she shut the study door behind her.
"Mercy, no! Archie and Phebe are there, so he'd have the sense to
pop into the sanctum and wait, unless you'd like me to go and
bring him out?" added Kitty, smoothing Rose's ruffled hair and
settling the flowers on the bosom where Uncle Alec's head had lain
until he fell asleep.
"No, thank you, I'll go to him when I've seen my Phebe. She won't
mind me," answered Rose, moving on to the parlor.
"Look here," called Steve, "do advise them to hurry up and all be
married at once. We were just ready when Uncle fell ill, and now
we cannot wait a day later than the first of May."
"Rather short notice," laughed Rose, looking back with the
doorknob in her hand.
"We'll give up all our splendor, and do it as simply as you like, if
you will only come too. Think how lovely! Three weddings at
once! Do fly round and settle things there's a dear," implored Kitty,
whose imagination was fired with this romantic idea.
"How can I, when I have no bridegroom yet?" began Rose, with
conscious color in her telltale face.
"Sly creature! You know you've only got to say a word and have a
famous one. Una and her lion will be nothing to it," cried Steve,
bent on hastening his brother's affair, which was much too dilatory
and peculiar for his taste.
"He has been in no haste to come home, and I am in no haste to
leave it. Don't wait for me, 'Mr. and Mrs. Harry Walmers, Jr.,' I
shall be a year at least making up my mind, so you may lead off as
splendidly as you like and I'll profit by your experience." And Rose
vanished into the parlor, leaving Steve to groan over the perversity
of superior women and Kitty to comfort him by promising to
marry him on May Day "all alone."
A very different couple occupied the drawing room, but a happier
one, for they had known the pain of separation and were now
enjoying the bliss of a reunion which was to last unbroken for their
lives. Phebe sat in an easy chair, resting from her labors, pale and
thin and worn, but lovelier in Archie's eyes than ever before. It was
very evident that he was adoring his divinity, for, after placing a
footstool at her feet, he had forgotten to get up and knelt there with
his elbow on the arm of her chair, looking like a thirsty man
drinking long drafts of the purest water.
"Shall I disturb you if I pass through?" asked Rose, loath to spoil
the pretty tableau.
"Not if you stop a minute on the way and congratulate me, Cousin,
for she says 'yes' at last!" cried Archie, springing up to go and bring
her to the arms Phebe opened as she appeared.
"I knew she would reward your patience and put away her pride
when both had been duly tried," said Rose, laying the tired head on
her bosom with such tender admiration in her eyes that Phebe had
to shake some bright drops from her own before she could reply in
a tone of grateful humility that showed how much her heart was
touched: "How can I help it, when they are all so kind to me? Any
pride would melt away under such praise and thanks and loving
wishes as I've had today, for every member of the family has taken
pains to welcome me, to express far too much gratitude, and to beg
me to be one of you. I needed very little urging, but when Archie's
father and mother came and called me 'daughter,' I would have
promised anything to show my love for them."
"And him," added Rose, but Archie seemed quite satisfied and
kissed the hand he held as if it had been that of a beloved princess
while he said with all the pride Phebe seemed to have lost: "Think
what she gives up for me fame and fortune and the admiration of
many a better man. You don't know what a splendid prospect she
has of becoming one of the sweet singers who are loved and
honored everywhere, and all this she puts away for my sake,
content to sing for me alone, with no reward but love."
"I am so glad to make a little sacrifice for a great happiness I never
shall regret it or think my music lost if it makes home cheerful for
my mate. Birds sing sweetest in their own nests, you know." And
Phebe bent toward him with a look and gesture which plainly
showed how willingly she offered up all ambitious hopes upon the
altar of a woman's happy love.
Both seemed to forget that they were not alone, and in a moment
they were, for a sudden impulse carried Rose to the door of her
sanctum, as if the south wind which seemed to have set in was
wafting this little ship also toward the Islands of the Blessed,
where the others were safely anchored now.
The room was a blaze of sunshine and a bower of spring freshness
and fragrance, for here Rose had let her fancy have free play, and
each garland, fern, and flower had its meaning. Mac seemed to
have been reading this sweet language of symbols, to have guessed
why Charlie's little picture was framed in white roses, why pansies
hung about his own, why Psyche was half hidden among feathery
sprays of maidenhair, and a purple passion flower lay at Cupid's
feet. The last fancy evidently pleased him, for he was smiling over
it, and humming to himself as if to beguile his patient waiting, the
burden of the air Rose had so often sung to him:
"Bonny lassie, will ye gang, will ye gang
To the birks of Aberfeldie?"
"Yes, Mac, anywhere!"
He had not heard her enter, and wheeling around, looked at her
with a radiant face as he said, drawing a long breath, "At last! You
were so busy over the dear man, I got no word. But I can wait I'm
used to it."
Rose stood quite still, surveying him with a new sort of reverence
in her eyes, as she answered with a sweet solemnity that made him
laugh and redden with the sensitive joy of one to whom praise
from her lips was very precious: "You forget that you are not the
Mac who went away. I should have run to meet my cousin, but I
did not dare to be familiar with the poet whom all begin to honor."
"You like the mixture, then? You know I said I'd try to give you
love and poetry together."
"Like it! I'm so glad, so proud, I haven't any words strong and
beautiful enough to half express my wonder and my admiration.
How could you do it, Mac?" And a whole face full of smiles broke
loose as Rose clapped her hands, looking as if she could dance
with sheer delight.
"It did itself, up there among the hills, and here with you, or out
alone upon the sea. I could write a heavenly poem this very
minute, and put you in as Spring you look like her in that green
gown with snowdrops in your bonny hair. Rose, am I getting on a
little? Does a hint of fame help me nearer to the prize I'm working
for? Is your heart more willing to be won?"
He did not stir a step, but looked at her with such intense longing
that his glance seemed to draw her nearer like an irresistible
appeal, for she went and stood before him, holding out both hands,
as if she offered all her little store, as she said with simplest
sincerity: "It is not worth so much beautiful endeavor, but if you
still want so poor a thing, it is yours."
He caught her hands in his and seemed about to take the rest of
her, but hesitated for an instant, unable to believe that so much
happiness was true.
"Are you sure, Rose very sure? Don't let a momentary admiration
blind you I'm not a poet yet, and the best are but mortal men, you
"It is not admiration, Mac."
"Nor gratitude for the small share I've taken in saving Uncle? I had
my debt to pay, as well as Phebe, and was as glad to risk my life."
"No it is not gratitude."
"Nor pity for my patience? I've only done a little yet, and I am as
far as ever from being like your hero. I can work and wait still
longer if you are not sure, for I must have all or nothing."
"Oh, Mac! Why will you be so doubtful? You said you'd make me
love you, and you've done it. Will you believe me now?" And, with
a sort of desperation, she threw herself into his arms, clinging
there in eloquent silence while he held her close; feeling, with a
thrill of tender triumph, that this was no longer little Rose, but a
loving woman, ready to live and die for him.
"Now I'm satisfied!" he said presently, when she lifted up her face,
full of maidenly shame at the sudden passion which had carried
her out of herself for a moment. "No don't slip away so soon. Let
me keep you for one blessed minute and feel that I have really
found my Psyche."
"And I my Cupid," answered Rose, laughing, in spite of her
emotion, at the idea of Mac in that sentimental character.
He laughed, too, as only a happy lover could, then said, with
sudden seriousness: "Sweet soul! Lift up your lamp and look well
before it is too late, for I'm no god, only a very faulty man."
"Dear love! I will. But I have no fear, except that you will fly too
high for me to follow, because I have no wings."
"You shall live the poetry, and I will write it, so my little gift will
celebrate your greater one."
"No you shall have all the fame, and I'll be content to be known
only as the poet's wife."
"And I'll be proud to own that my best inspiration comes from the
beneficent life of a sweet and noble woman."
"Oh, Mac! We'll work together and try to make the world better by
the music and the love we leave behind us when we go."
"Please God, we will!" he answered fervently and, looking at her
as she stood there in the spring sunshine, glowing with the tender
happiness, high hopes, and earnest purposes that make life
beautiful and sacred, he felt that now the last leaf had folded back,
the golden heart lay open to the light, and his Rose had bloomed.


text:
from United Kingdom
Speaks: English
Work: Self Employed
Education: Uni
About me:
I live in Northampton with my 2 children and partner, I lived at the flat for 6 happy years before starting a family. My tenants have lived in the flat for 4 years but after getting married the lead tenants would now like to live in married bliss alone! This means I am looking for new tenants to live in this fabulous flat. The owners of the 3 flats in the building also own the freehold so we make sure the building is maintained well.
Spacious flat, large garden & off street parking

subset: commoncrawl


text: Axle is a mobile platformer set in a world of gears. You play as an exuberant little gear named Axle who maneuvers through dangerous machines, repairing them from the inside out. The game features a vibrant hand-painted art style and an original electro-swing soundtrack in a unique and exciting world. Seamlessly fusing traditional platforming gameplay with innovative touch controls, Axle is an thrilling clockwork adventure for all ages.


text:
3. Arrangements
Most of these arrangements are flowers and foliage in oasis (flower foam). To prolong the life of the arrangement, the oasis should be kept damp throughout using the flower food diluted in water.
If you would like an alternative arrangement to those shown below, using a different combination of colours or flowers, please call us on 01732 450145 and we'll be more than happy to create exactly what you want.


text:
We wind our way through suburbia, trying to connect to the Rim Road out of Lakeside. Gates and no trespassing signs have us taking one step forward and two steps back. I'm ready to go to Scotland, where Eloise tells me that private property isn't really private.
Another biker zips by and points us in the right direction. Time to get out of town. The road surface alternates between dirt and lava rock. I bump along.
Past Forest Lakes the road improves. We ride through rain showers and morning thunder. A bit of unmaintained singletrack on the General Crook trail keeps us engaged.
The Rim Road intersects the Arizona Trail and we head north for Flagstaff – intrigued by the trail, not wanting to give in to the rain.
The first miles we ride are sandy and swoopy along a creek. Then we're going down into a wash and up the other side. Along the way, the soil changes. No sand here, only sticky wet clay. I grow a few inches taller. Tyndall says his wheels have stopped turning. We peel mud off tires.
There's a forest service road up ahead and we bail there, riding pavement the rest of the way. The AZT is not meant to be this go around.
We're in Flagstaff, putting things together for a 24 day float down the Grand Canyon. We'll be back on the bikes (and the blog) in late November.


text:
Joe Quesada Joins "Death of Wolverine" Variant Cover Lineup
Marvel's Chief Creative Officer joins the growing lineup of artists providing covers for September's weekly "Death of Wolverine" event miniseries. Joe Quesada, along with inker Mark Morales and colorist Jason Keith, pits Wolverine against what appears to be duplicates of the mutant hero's own skeleton.
The Joe Q cover is just the latest incentive Marvel is offering for the month-long event. In July, the publisher announced a "Death of Wolverine" retailer kit, which includes postcards, lithographs, and a Skottie Young variant cover, all in support of Charles Soule and Steve McNiven's four-issue series. Each issue of the mini will feature "Weapon Etched Foil Covers" as the standard, McNiven-illustrated non-variant covers.
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text:
Some say selling your house is the second most stressful thing to deal with, next to bereavement and debt. I always thought that was a bit extreme, but here I am saying it; it may well be true. Times like this call for ranting blog times.
We put our house on the market late September 2013, and we had a pretty decent amount of interest. Within the first month we'd had three offers and accepted one. Woop-de-doo we thought, let's go fund us a new house, we thought. Things progressed slowly as our buyer was overseas for the most part. By December our house was surveyed and totally unexpectedly, it was valued 10k less than the asking price. 10k may not sound a lot... if you're selling a 250k house. 10k for us was nearly 15% of the asking price! It was HUGE. It was simply unthinkable, we could not afford to move, pay all legal fees and buy a new house. Our estate agents were adamant the surveyor had got it wrong. She said they even genuinely thought it had been a typing error at first. So this meant one thing, we had to appeal it. At this point our buyer decided it wasn't worth the hassle, and a few days before new year (new year, new start? I think not!) they pulled out.
By this point we had already put an offer in on a house, and we were almost at completion, so we were pretty nervous and anxious about losing that property. But, to our shock, back on the market for a day, tons of interest, and an offer that matched our previous buyers! FAB, we're back on... We thought. This time we were super nervous about the surveyors valuation... He came, he went, he valued it to the full asking price! Proving the other guy was just totally wrong too. AWESOME we thought. But no, the mortgage was subject to a damp report. We have the tinyest amount of damp by the front door, so we weren't too bothered by this. But then he came. "I don't know how you live here" - I thought he was referring to the fact it's so small... But no. "You have damp on every wall" What?! Is this some sick joke? Damp where? I SEE NO DAMP. He said his device only measured up to 1000, and every wall hit the top mark. I almost couldn't get my head around it.. It was just bonkers. I mean, we don't have central heating, so maybe the walls were just cold and his device couldn't tell the difference? I don't know, but whut?! 2k-3k to fix he said. Our buyers mortgage lender wont lend in its current 'condition' he said.
Confused is not the word. If we thought there had been real damp problems we would have treated it. Believe me. The kitchen needs to be removed, skirting torn up, walls re-plastered and painted. A lot of work we'd already done. How can damp be present when there are no signs? Am I being deceived here? I've read a lot about damp courses being wrongly installed, and there's the whole 'rising damp myth' theory. Am I being made a mug of or should I just be disappointed in ourselves for not realising the damp? And is it really THAT bad? I mean, we've done just fine....
So now we wait. Will our buyers pull out? Reduce their offer? Demand we pay for the work? I don't know. I keep searching the web for answers. I suppose life is full of lessons. Lesson 1 - damp is a bitch.
Our deadline for completion of the house we intend to purchase is 31st March. That's around 45 days away. I can almost feel it slipping away...
C'est la vie n all that jazz.
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text:
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|"Arpit Gupta (Assigned) (JIRA)" <j...@apache.org>
|[jira] [Assigned] (HADOOP-7708) config generator does not update the properties file if on exists already
|Fri, 30 Sep 2011 19:03:45 GMT
[ https://issues.apache.org/jira/browse/HADOOP-7708?page=com.atlassian.jira.plugin.system.issuetabpanels:all-tabpanel ] Arpit Gupta reassigned HADOOP-7708: ----------------------------------- Assignee: Arpit Gupta > config generator does not update the properties file if on exists already > ------------------------------------------------------------------------- > > Key: HADOOP-7708 > URL: https://issues.apache.org/jira/browse/HADOOP-7708 > Project: Hadoop Common > Issue Type: Bug > Components: conf > Affects Versions: 0.20.205.1 > Reporter: Arpit Gupta > Assignee: Arpit Gupta > > We are copying configs to the hadoop conf dir but are not using the -f option. This leads to conf file not getting replaced in case the file exists and thus the user never gets the new conf. -- This message is automatically generated by JIRA. If you think it was sent incorrectly, please contact your JIRA administrators: https://issues.apache.org/jira/secure/ContactAdministrators!default.jspa For more information on JIRA, see: http://www.atlassian.com/software/jira
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text:
My 3 year old needs dreadlocks because if she doesn't I'm not sure I can make it through another morning of brushing the mop. Seriously can you imagine Haven in dreads, I think it would be wonderful! Today is also not just any day at school, today is picture day. Dun, dun dun. Yes picture day. For this mompreneur picture day always comes as a surprise to me even though our beautiful school does well at giving us information. Certain things just happen to get looked over around here especially when it is the big launch week at YPAC (Yorkville Performing Arts Center. So in true Emily Weber fashion I pull together some outfits that look decent, don't have paint stains on them, and somewhat coordinate with each other. I give myself a pat on the back because I am now 50% done with picture day prep. You can guess it, that's when the other 50% of picture day prep went south.
I can rock the mornings if all of the children get up together at the same time as we are all in the same stage of the morning. We wake up, we have breakfast, we get dressed and we watch Jake The Neverland Pirates while I throw my hair in a side bun and slap on some mascara. For those of you who don't know my husband and I have three blessings we are trying to survive ages 4, 3 and 1.5 so system and consistency is the game we play sometimes we win sometimes we lose. This morning I lost. I lost my rhythm, I lost my mind, which made me loose my cool, which made my 4 year old loose her cool, which scared her younger brother who lost the chair underneath his feet smacking him straight down on his face (remember its picture day, of course this happens), to which we lost time, then Haven's shoe and God forbid my phone! We just unravelled and we hadn't even walked out of the front door yet.
We get out of the front door and my Brinlee decides she was going to take loosing her cool to a whole other level and she lost control of her ever loving mind and if you have ever had a strong willed, type A, over emotional four year old lose control you feel me right about now. It was bad and all she kept doing is screaming, "I don't want to do a station" and all I could do was pray, "Dear Lord save me, save her and get us to school in one piece with peace." We got there in one piece but peace not so much. All I can say is I am thankful for Peaceful Pathways Montessori and Miss Sandra who always makes you feel understood and not alone. She was able to get the girls' teacher Miss Nichole whom I adore to come to the van in car line and help me out. Praise Jesus for this woman! We got everything translated as to why Brinlee was so upset on the way to school and what the heck a station was and the girls and Gev where hand in hand on their way into the school. Deep breath.
Call Brian. Through tears this loving man of mine listens to me as I fully let go of all my fears and failures of being a mom and a mompreneur and I don't know why God would ever trust me with this, I obviously suck at life. Yep, ladies I went there. Thankfully, I have him who gently listens and says that I don't suck at life and reminds me that our four year old took four dance classes yesterday, didn't have a full dinner, and stayed up late with her buddy over. In fact his words were, "Emily, I'm not shocked at all." Normally my response to this would have not been pretty but you know what I wasn't pretty all morning and I needed to turn this ship around. He was right. We pushed her hard yesterday and I expect a lot from her as a four year old. After all she is still just a little. Grace extended and forgiveness granted for everyone playing the Picture Day Prep game this morning.
The real healing came though when I called my saving grace of a friend Katie Owings who always puts things into perspective for me and for that I am thankful. She reminded me of the love my kids have for both Brian and I, for each other but most of all for Jesus. She reminded me that God gifted me to be a wife and support my husband who is transitioning and mending in health, a mom of 4 with 3 littles under the age of 4, to run a beautiful business that is impacting the community, to serve in Haiti and create cross cultural relationships and opportunities for others, to dream and vision so others can have sustainability and that my kids are watching and seeing us serve others and work hard together to grow God's kingdom, she reminded me that they will forgive themselves because I forgive myself and that they will extend grace because I extend grace to them. The last things she said was do what you do, Emily. Share. So here is me sharing.
You are not alone my mama friends. Whether you stay at home, work from home, run a business inside your home, run a business outside your home, work in corporate, run 3 businesses while building 2 non profits and a tiny house, I feel you and I stand with you! You are loved, you are enough just the way you are.
Sometimes ya win and sometimes you lose but ultimately you can always win if you make a lose of yours a win for everyone.
Googling three year olds with dreadlocks,


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"A clean, well-maintained home in tiptop condition will yield maximum profit when it comes time to sell. However, you don't have to shell out the big bucks to make sure your house is in mint condition. There are a number of upgrades you can do for under $1,000 that will impress buyers and prompt strong offers. Whether you're a condo owner in Seattle, WA, or prepping a home for sale in Charleston, SC..."
Source: 10 Upgrades Under $1,000 That Increase Home Values by Trulia.
Many homeowners and business owners already know that new flooring, whether it is tile, carpet, hardwood, or vinyl, will add value to a home, and add that value immediately. Best of all, when it comes to new flooring installation, Seattle consumers can shop with us to find some of the best deals on flooring in this entire area. One of our priorities is to work hard to keep prices low, so we can serve as many customers as possible.
However, we offer more, too. When you shop with us for your new flooring systems, you will discover that we have a wonderful selection of flooring to choose from. These are name brand manufacturers that have been in the flooring business for decades; names you can trust. The last thing any consumer wants to do is buy new flooring that is inferior in quality, and that will not last or stand up to your particular conditions.
To learn more about the new flooring installation Seattle homeowners and business want and need, visit with Completely Floored in Everett, WA and let us show you why new flooring is an investment that pays off both now and in the long run.


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The government in Queensland has made the decision to reclassify coastal hazard areas based on the potential for sea levels to rise. This decision is expected to benefit both long term planning and local councils in deciding on the use for land in these hazard areas. The decision has been applauded by industry members and experts as a way to enable more prudent planning and decision making for future land development designs.
The decision was announced to Queensland council through an email from the state director for environment and planning, John Lane. This email stated that the effect of climate change on sea levels has been reintroduced into the latest distinctions of coastal hazard areas. The coastal hazard area mapping has been updated to reflect impacts of climate change up till 2100, including a point eight metre sea level rise incorporated into erosion prone area and storm tide inundation.
This decision reverses the previous government's removal of requiring local Queensland governments to consider rising sea levels during land development design planning. The new coastal hazard mapping identifies areas extremely similar to those designated prior to the previous government's removal of climate change factors from planning policy.
The CEO of the Planning Institute of Australia (PIA), Kirsty Kelly, has hailed this decision as moving in the right direction for the long term of land development design. The PIA believes addressing and adapting to climate change is vital for the future of planning, and rising sea levels are one of the issues that should be taken into consideration. Greater coordination and consistency is needed on a nationwide level, at the very least local councils should be following planning recommendations and zoning decisions for land development design. All of this will need leadership to guide adaptation towards consistent approach throughout the country, including reliable access to data and evidence available from government agencies such as CSIRO and Geoscience Australia.
The decision brings state policy in line with international best practice. It also makes decisions on land development design planning much easier by providing guidelines and certainty for local governments as the first line authority in consent in planning matter, and for development applications, allowing everyone involved to understand what is required.
The expansion of coastal hazard zones does not translate as a ban on development, rather that the impacts will be considered and measure adopted. Coastal hazard maps provide indications of what hazards exist where, allowing developers to take into account the potential dangers and aid in the decision making now that will impact cities for hundreds of years.


text:
Keynote Speaker
Don Tapscott, CEO, The Tapscott Group
The Digital Economy:
Rethinking Promise and Peril in the Age of Networked Intelligence
When Don Tapscott wrote The Digital Economy in 1994-95, The Digital Age was in its infancy. The pioneering Netscape Web browser 1.0 was in beta, websites didn't do transactions, we all used dial-up modems, and smartphones didn't exist. Google, YouTube, Netflix, Facebook, and Twitter wouldn't appear for many years.
Yet Tapscott's analysis – raising issues such as networked business models, the impact of technology on privacy, the inevitable demand for corporate transparency, and the influence of new media on successive generations — deftly captured the many opportunities and challenges that lay in store for society. His pioneering term "digital economy" is now ubiquitous.
Today Tapscott reflects on the last 20 years and takes a Reality Check for the digital age. He explains that while much of the promise has been fulfilled there so have many of the dangers he predicated 2 decades ago. He argues that as with all disruptive platforms and social revolutions, networked intelligence destroys as it creates. Technology is also the foundation of new species of businesses that are capable of wiping our entire industries. Digital Conglomerates such as Google are achieving leadership roles in a dozen industries, where they do a better job with a fraction of the employees. Excess Capacity Networks like Uber, Lyft, and Airbnb hold the power to wipe out jobs in industries ranging from taxis to hotels. Data Frackers like Facebook are acquiring vast treasure troves of data that position them to dominate multiple industries.
Some of the issues he addresses.
Plenary #1:
Open Access in Two Acts
The open access environment changes on a daily basis – and just keeping up with last week's news can leave a publisher losing out. From licenses, collaborations, models, new services, or information sources beyond the journal, today's publisher is juggling a variety of innovative open access pilots. Let's move beyond the basics and hear from some key innovative publishers as David Crotty moderates Open Access in Two Acts.
OA 1: Speed-Dating
Licenses – why CC BY?
OA and the Challenges Presented to Humanities Journals
OA 2: Beyond Journals: Books
Experiments in OA book publishing: what have we learned?
David Crotty, Senior Editor, Oxford University Press
Seth Denbo, Director of Scholarly Communication and Digital Initiatives, The American Historical Association
Gita Manaktala, Editorial Director, The MIT Press
John Wilbanks, Chief Commons Officer, Sage Bionetworks
Cocktail Reception
[Dinner on Your Own]
Continental Breakfast
Plenary #2:
Event Horizons: Investment Community Perspectives on the Professional & Scholarly Information Industry
A key function of the financial community is to allocate capital to businesses with the best prospects for revenue and profit growth. M&A activity is alive and well in the professional and scholarly information industry, evidenced by recent high-profile transactions like the acquisition of McGraw-Hill by Apollo Management, the divestiture of Highwire Press by Stanford University, and the acquisition of Mendeley by Elsevier. In this session key players from the world of investment banking and private equity will offer their views on the trajectory of the industry and how the greatest value is being created.
Scott Grillo, VP, Publisher McGraw-Hill Professional, McGraw-Hill
Thane Kerner, CEO, Silverchair Holdings LLC
Gregory R. Miller, Managing Director, Greenhill & Co.
Brian A. Napack, Senior Advisor, Providence Equity
Thomas P. O'Connor, Managing Director, Berkery Noyes
Ann M. Riposanu, EVP Strategy, Business Development and M&A, Wolters Kluwer Health
PSP Business Meeting (PSP Member Companies Only)
PSP Budget, Goals, and Plans for FY 2015–2016
Presentation of New Executive Council Officers for 2015-2016
Networking Break
|Symposium topic #1:
Prospering in a Multimedia World:
Publishers as Non Traditional Content Providers
For both eBooks and Journals, publishers now have to consider the pros and cons of incorporating other content formats, i.e., video and other multimedia content, such as data sets and perhaps interactive content, to their traditionally static, text-based products.
How to develop/produce multimedia content, whether it is needed or relevant to a publisher's particular audience, and also, whether to acquire the tools to develop this new content "in-house" (the do-it-yourself, or DIY approach), versus using an outside technology partner, or service provider to do so.
Symposium topic #1:
Adapting Education: How Adaptive Learning Can Benefit Professionals
By leveraging innovative technologies and advanced analytics, adaptive learning is bringing a new level of customized study to the classroom, but can it go further? This session will explore how adaptive learning vendors are combining forces with scholarly publishers to not only address professional's initial class-based training and preparation, but to also to become a prominent force in their lifelong training and education needs.
How can technology, data, and a deeper understanding of the learning process come together to provide a personalized experience beyond the classroom in environments where training, board review, certification, and maintenance of certification are critical to the user community? By dynamically assessing each users' level of expertise and their unique needs, adaptive learning technology can be used to determine user proficiencies, identify knowledge gaps, and predict performance, enabling the learner to more accurately assess their abilities and direct their preparation time and efforts effectively.
PROSE Awards Luncheon(Tweet live at the luncheon #PROSEAwards)
Networking Break
|Symposium topic #2:
Chunking Book Content for Extra Profit!
The scholarly publishing industry has transitioned a lot of their book content to digital. But once the backlist and archives have been digitized and uploaded, then what? Can these incredible troves of content be repurposed? How can the long tail be monetized? Metadata, semantic analytics, and other tools provide publishers with the opportunity to create new derivative content, products, and services that will lead to new profits! Our panel will explore the current landscape of chunking content and what is in store for the future!
Symposium topic #2:
An Interview with… Tom Allen, AAP's President & CEO will interview Elaine C. Kamarck and A. Thomas McLellan
Ms. Kamarck is the author of "How Change Happens—or Doesn't: The Politics of US Public Policy". Elaine served in the White House from 1993 to 1997, where she created and managed the Clinton Administration's National Performance Review, also known as reinventing government.
Networking Break
Plenary #3:
Librarians as Publishers
The relatively new phenomenon of research library as publisher is an important facet of the changing landscape of scholarly communications—and inevitably raises questions among "conventional" publishers. For example: What have been the primary motivators spurring the development of library publication programs? (An attempt to redress a lack of publishing opportunities in particular fields and/or for a particular group of scholars? Other factors?) What can library publishers offer that conventional scholarly publishers cannot? Are there avenues for partnership between library and conventional publishers? During this session, three expert panelists will address these questions as they explore the varying roles of library publishers and discuss how those roles fit into the mission of the research library of tomorrow.
Jennifer Crewe, President & Director, Columbia University Press
Lynne Rienner, President & CEO, Lynne Rienner Publishers
Alex Holzman, CEO, Alex Publishing Solutions
Tyler Walters, Dean, Virginia Tech University Libraries
Charles Watkinson, Associate University Librarian, Publishing / Director, University of Michigan Press University of Michigan Library
Cocktail Reception
[Dinner on Your Own]
Continental Breakfast
CHORUS Update
Howard Ratner, Executive Director, CHORUS
Plenary #4:
Researchers our ultimate customer! How do we provide them more value?
Researchers are faced with a plethora of challenges that interface with the publishing world, whether it is from the peer review process, promoting articles and obtaining Grant funding. Publishers are actively working to provide researchers with services that better enable them to meet these challenges successfully. Join us as our panel explores this topic from a 360° viewpoint, sharing their perspective on what emerging needs researchers have or anticipate having in the future and debating what are the best practices in improving the value chain of the researcher.
Sarah Tegen , Vice President, Global Editorial & Author Services, Journals Publishing Group American Chemical Society
Glen Campbell,Managing Director, North America, The BMJ Publishing Group
William Jackson, Assistant Professor, Medical College of Wisconsin
Simone Sacchi, Research and Scholarship Initiatives Manager at Center for Digital Research and Scholarship, Columbia University
Networking Break
Plenary #5:
True innovation at its core should disrupt the status quo but more importantly improve the value chain. How do you transcend your company's culture to be innovative and create a more competitive environment? What is true innovation and how do you achieve it? Our panel of innovators will explore this topic and share with you their insights, thoughts and experiences on innovation.
Darrell W. Gunter, Founder and CEO, Gunter Media Group, Inc.
Chirantan Bhatt, Founder and CEO, tapCLIQ
Eric Hellman, Founder, Unglue.it
Stephen A. Leicht, Managing Director, ÜberResearch
Daniel Stinfil, CEO, PrepCube.com


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Jews had been living in Poland for a thousand years before the violence of World War II and Nazi Germany. At the beginning of the 20th Century, 3.5 million Jews inhabited Poland, with every tenth Polish citizen of Jewish descent. Over time, the appearances of many cities and villages have changed across the country, whilst the War changed the identities of those who lived there. Prior to the War, up to half of the residents of such cities belonged to the Jewish community, and only 300,000 of the 3.5 million Jews actually survived past 1945. Then, during the Communist period, most Jews fled Poland in several waves of migration. Today, there are only a few thousand Jews that live in Poland. There are a few synagogues, mikvahs, tenements, private houses, and various buildings that survived the war times. However, one of the most notable tragedies was the fate of the Jewish cemeteries.
Cemeteries and their material culture (The connection between artifacts and social relations) have always played an important role in collective remembrance of any nation or social group. Material culture plays an especially important role in the politics of memory, hegemonic narratives, and the formation of local, regional, national and international identities. Destruction of cemeteries by an aggressor is often an attempt to crush the cultural spine of the victims and to erase the last remnants of their existence. This was the case with Jewish cemeteries in occupied Poland.
Throughout Poland, Nazis destroyed the cemeteries, whilst the matzevas were taken and used as building materials. After the war and under Communist rule, further matzevas were used to build roads, pavements, airports, reinforce river banks, and to build monuments in parks. Privately, matzevas were also used instead of bricks to build houses, or as tools for everyday use such as a grinding wheel or a knife sharpener. Therefore, the fate of the Jewish cemeteries was doomed, and together with the matzevas, the names and identities of the deceased were brutally taken away from them. In one such cemetery – Brudo, in the Praga district of Poland's Capital Warsaw, out of over 350,000 pre-war gravestones, otherwise known as matzevas, only approximately 3,000 have survived intact until this day.
"When the past has not been elaborated, thus it has not been understood, it has not been turned into experience, it weighs as a silent legacy, which threatens the future".
(Paolo Jedlowski)
"The past is what you remember, imagine you remember, convince yourself you remember, or pretend to remember".
(Harold Pinter, quoted by Adler)
The aim of this project is to re-create memories of Jewish history and culture in Poland whilst restoring matzevas in their rightful places, i.e. at existing Jewish cemeteries, or at other carefully selected places in cases where cemeteries do not exist any longer. Through this project, we wish to return the names, stories and identities, of the deceased and enable Jewish families across the world to be able to find matzevas of their relatives and friends. The project will counteract the main motives of Nazi perpetrators who not only wished to exterminate European Jews, but to delete all remnants of their existence, including cemeteries and graves.
The project aims to heal the painful wounds that have been made in Poland, by directly involving people and social groups. The project also has a didactic function, which helps the discovery and acknowledgement of this part of traumatic national history. The objective of the project is to go beyond the trauma, through building common ground of collective memory and understanding on a large scale. However, this project goes beyond an ordinary commemoration. Instead of creating bronze, granite or marble monuments, and perpetuating pain and suffering, we aim to include as many participants as possible to inspire positive actions of re-calling and re-enacting Jewish matzevas in Poland.
The project will uncover matzevas and find Jewish stories often hidden in structures of towns and villages, to be brought to light and presented to those who may be culturally aware and also to those who may not be, due to age, origin or other reasons.
The objectives of the project will be realised by building a strong connection between human reflection, humanistic approach and science. Scientific methods will combine the function of historical research, alongside the potential provided by modern documentation and conservation technology, as well as innovative use of various types of modern media channels.
1. Collecting information regarding stolen matzevas throughout Poland, documenting their locations and state of preservation by photo, GIS measurements, laser scanning, etc. depending on type and category of particular site.
2. Creating a unique web-database, using state of the art technology.
3. Identifying, reading, and translating inscriptions on matzevas, in cooperation with world-class experts. In many cases this action will require a careful cleaning of surfaces and inscriptions on the matzevas.
4. Creating a virtual platform, which will enable families and friends to find their matzevas, adopt these, and contribute to their conservation/restoration.
5. Selecting and preparing rightful places for relocation of the matzevas that were used for improper purposes, which can be moved to existing Jewish cemeteries, or to other proper locations.
6. In situ commemoration of, and information on, matzevas existing in their secondary contexts, by information boards and/or other means of information to the general public (relevant for sites with numerous matzevas that cannot be moved or where relocation must wait for a longer period of time).
7. Designing (via an open international call for architects and artists) and erecting a unique post-modernistic memorial structure in homage to the destroyed cemeteries and plundered matzevas, bearing testimony of the long-term Jewish history in Poland.
8. Educational activities – Showing the importance of Matzevas in Jewish culture and religion to the general public in Poland; create a TV production, receive write ups in popular publications, school materials, and a create a web-based 'game' based on typology and inscriptions of Matzevas.
9. Elaboration of the Guidelines for Best Practices regarding historical Jewish cemeteries and matzevas for national and local authorities, museums professionals and tourist companies in Eastern Europe.
We need your help. For more information – contact us.
Matzeva Project
tel. +48 501 183 871
e-mail. email@example.com
Copyright © 2014 Matzeva.org All rights reserved.


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Only some shops are allowed by law to open on Sundays and at Easter or at Christmas, and fines exist to enforce these laws.
The law says that on a Sunday:
Some large shops are exempt, e.g. pharmacies, motorway services, restaurants and businesses providing services. There are no regulations for street markets and car boot sales.
The Sunday Trading Act 1994 regulates shop opening hours, not what goods can be sold. However, there are separate laws that cover the sale of certain goods, such as alcohol.
The law says that:
Some large businesses are exempt e.g. pharmacies, motorway services, restaurants, and businesses providing services.
There is a fine of £50,000 for breaking the Sunday Trading Act 1994 or the Christmas Day (Trading) Act 2004.


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Zarathustra, the Hermit, and the Madman
In his early writings, Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900) experimented with philosophical positions, testing them against science and the history of thought, against culture, thinkers and the momentum of the times. Additionally, he adopted personae or masks to present controversial ideas within an experimental context and as novel ways of philosophizing. The dramatic characters of Zarathustra and the hermit in Thus Spoke Zarathustra and the madman in Gay Science (also translated as Joyful Wisdom) are the most representative of Nietzschean personae. They represent Nietzsche himself, self-described "philosopher and solitary by instinct" (Will to Power 3).
Zarathustra is not the historical Zoroaster except as his counterpart. Nietzsche may have chosen Zoroaster as his model because he was the first historical founder of a religion or because he savored the irony of inverting the god of morals for nature, reversing Zoroaster's preference against nature (Angra Mainyu) for morals (Ahura Mazda). Or perhaps the bombastic tones of the Avesta, the Gathas, and Zoroastrian scriptures may have appealed to him.
But Zarathustra is portrayed by Nietzsche as a religious prophet with Biblical overtones, a Moses descending from the mountain with a new vision for humanity and a new set of tablets of law. In Nietzsche's case, the prophet's teaching is based on a revelation that is the opposite of Western religion's theistic premise.
When Zarathustra was thirty years old, he left his home and the lake of his home, and went into the mountains. There he enjoyed his spirit and his solitude, and for ten years did not weary of it. But at last his heart changed, and rising one morning with the rosy dawn, he went before the sun and spoke to it.
In his earliest writings, Nietzsche had viewed saints, geniuses and creative people as those who achieved the highest human potential. He retained a religious sensibility, even as he moved into a radical critique of religion, culture, and society, and even as he absorbed the sciences as a foundation of necessary knowledge. The imagery of biology, evolution, chemistry, physiology, and physics, lurked beneath his aesthetic and creative values.
With Zarathustra, Nietzsche was evolving the notion of self-transcendence and transvaluation -- methods of self-control and individual achievement culminating in the Ubermensch, that oft-abused concept of Superman that is better translated as Overman or simply higher man. In this period of his writings, Nietzsche's Zarathustra represents a benign and productive will to power, for despite Zarathustra's pronouncements, he is a sparse and unassuming figure among other people -- much like Nietzsche himself.
To Nietzsche, "first nature" was religious, both in his personal experience and in the experience of humanity. "I am a plant, born near the churchyard," he wrote of himself. And like the plant, he was solitary, affected by his social environment, his experiences, and his proclivities. Nietzsche projects all of this into his character Zarathustra, though as commentator Rudiger Safranski notes (in Nietzsche: A Philosophical Biography): "Nietzsche's image of the Ubermensch betrays his own ambivalence while unfolding an entire existential drama." The creative use of a persona or mask like Zarathustra allows Nietzsche to express his ideas at the moment. This style makes the work a monument of philosophical literature.
In the opening passages of the Prologue, however, Zarathustra has decided to come down from the mountain and to share his wisdom. He has renounced his solitude. Zarathustra's first encounter is with a forest hermit, who recognizes Zarathustra and comments on his changed attitude: "No stranger to me is this wanderer. He passed through here many years ago. Zarathustra, he was called, but he has changed."
The hermit declares that Zarathustra once carried his ashes into the mountains but now carries fire into the valley, that he is awakened but goes to the land of the sleeping, that he has lived in the sea but now comes ashore. When Zarathustra answers that he loves mankind, the hermit replies:
Why did I go into the forest and the desert? Was it not because I loved men far too well? ... Go not to men but stay in the forest! Go rather to the animals. Why not be like me, a bear among bears, a bird among birds?
Zarathustra asks the hermit what he does in the forest, and "the saint" replies: "I make hymns and sing them. And in making hymns, I laugh and weep and mumble. Thus do I before the God who is my God."
Zarathustra has told the hermit that he brings a gift to mankind, but when the hermit asks what it is, the former demurs, saying that he must hurry on lest he take from the hermit. Then comes one of the most striking passages in philosophical literature.
So they parted from one another, the old man and Zarathustra, laughing like schoolboys. When Zarathustra was alone, however, he said to himself: "Can it be that this old saint in the forest has not yet heard? God is dead!"
Here is the entire Prologue of Thus Spoke Zarathustra.
When Zarathustra was thirty years old, he left his home and the lake of his home, and went into the mountains. There he enjoyed his spirit and his solitude, and for ten years did not weary of it. But at last his heart changed. Arising one morning with the rosy dawn, he went before the sun, and spoke thus unto it:
O great star! What would be your happiness if you did not have those for whom you shine! For ten years you have arisen over my cave. You would have wearied of your light and of the journey had it not been for me, my eagle, and my serpent. But we awaited you every morning, took from your overflow, and blessed you for it.
But now I am weary of my wisdom, like the bee that has gathered too much honey; I need hands outstretched to take it. Would that I could bestow and distribute it, until the wise have once more become joyous in their folly, and the poor happy in their riches.
Thus must I descend into the deep, just as you do in the evening, when you go behind the sea and give light also to the nether world, you exuberant star! Like you rI must go down, as men say, to whom I shall descend.
Bless me, then, oh tranquil eye that can behold even the greatest happiness without envy! Bless the cup that is about to overflow, that the water may flow golden out of it, and carry everywhere the reflection of your bliss!
Lo! This cup is again going to empty itself, and Zarathustra is again going to be a man.
Thus Zarathustra began his going down.
Zarathustra went down the mountain alone, not encountering anyone. When he entered the forest, however, there suddenly stood before him an old man, who had left his holy cot to seek roots. And thus spoke the old man to Zarathustra:
"No stranger to me is this wanderer: many years ago passed he by. Zarathustra he was called; but he has changed. At that time you carried your ashes into the mountains, and now you would carry your fire into the valleys? Do you not fear the incendiary's doom? Yes, I recognize Zarathustra. Pure is his eye, and no loathing lurks about his mouth. Does he not go along like a dancer?
Zarathustra has changed. He has become a a child, an awakened one. What will you do in the land of the sleeping? You have lived in solitude as if in the sea, and the sea has borne you up. Alas, will you now go ashore? Alas, will you again drag your body after you?"
Zarathustra answered: "I love mankind."
"Why did I go into the forest and the desert?" asked the saint. "Was it not because I loved men far too well? Now I love God; men, I do not love. Man is a thing too imperfect for me. Love to man would be fatal to me."
Zarathustra answered: "What spoke I of love? I am bringing gifts to men."
"Give them nothing," said the saint. "Rather, take part of their load, and carry it along with those for whom it will be most agreeable, as long as it be agreeable to you! If, however, you want to give to them, give them no more than an alms, and, and let them beg for it!"
"No," replied Zarathustra, "I give no alms. I am not poor enough for that."
The saint laughed at Zarathustra, and spoke thus: "Then see to it that they accept your treasures! They are distrustful of anchorites, and do not believe that we come with gifts. The footfall of our steps rings too hollow through their streets. And just as at night, when they are in bed and hear a man abroad long before sunrise, so they ask themselves concerning us: Whither goes the thief?
Go not to men, but stay in the forest! Go rather to the animals! Why not be like me, a bear among bears, a bird among birds?"
"And what does the saint do in the forest?" asked Zarathustra.
The saint answered: "I make hymns and sing them; and in making hymns I laugh and weep and mumble: thus do I praise God. With singing, weeping, laughing, and mumbling do I praise the God who is my God. But what do you bring us as a gift?"
When Zarathustra had heard these words, he bowed to the saint and said: "What could I give you? Let me rather hurry on lest I take something away from you!"
And thus they parted from one another, the old man and Zarathustra, laughing like schoolboys.
When Zarathustra was alone, however, he said to himself: "Can it be that this old saint in the forest has not yet heard? God is dead!"
Thus Spoke Zarathustra
The four volumes of Thus Spoke Zarathustra are a dramatic elaboration of Nietzsche's philosophical explorations based on the late nineteen-century cultural reality that religion is no longer the animating force of society. Zarathustra reveals a philosophy of life based on a "love of earth" and the vitality of life and thought, speaking in parables and poems like a prophet. Throughout, Zarathustra is confounded by the reality that society and the masses cannot receive or embrace his insights, not only because of their turpitude but because they cannot transcend themselves or identify with a higher meaning than the inherited culture and sociiety's mores give them.
To that select aspirant of higher meaning, who would be the higher soul or Ubermensch, Zarathustra appeals, but he is called by the people vain, a glutton, a fool. He admits that "When I came to men for the first time, I committed that great folly of hermits: I went to the marketplace." That is, he decided to share his teaching with everyone, with anyone who would listen. (This was the case with Nietzsche himself, whose writings were rejected by contemporaries).
But now Zarathustra knows better. "In the marketplace no one believes in higher souls. The masses blink and say: 'We are all equal.' ... Before this people, however, we will not be equal. You who are higher souls, away from the marketplace!"
The philosophy espoused by Zarathustra is the logical development of Nietzsche's thought, poised at the maturity of his grand essays, Genealogy of Morals and Beyond Good and Evil. His philosophy is too complex to pursue here beyond consideration of the many uses of and the imagery of solitude found creatively in key personae. But Nietzsche's context for solitude presented in Thus Spoke Zarathustra is invaluable.
Zarathustra warns that the state is a monstrous new idol from which the wise are to flee.
The earth is still open to great souls. Unoccupied are still many places for solitaries and friends, where the fragrance of tranquil seas floats. A free life is still open to great souls. One who possesses little is that much less possessed. Blessed be moderate poverty (Zarathustra, 1, 11).
Against the marketplace, Zarathustra warns: "Flee, my friend, into solitude! (1, 12).
The perennial conflict between city and marketplace versus countryside furthers the contrast of higher self and the masses.
In the wilderness have ever dwelt the conscientious, the free spirits, as lords of the wilderness. But in the cities dwell the well-foddered, the draught beasts.
Solitude and the spurning of society is both insight and practicality, for "whatever cannot obey itself is commanded" (2, 34). Thus, self-discipline is a prerequisite to "self-surpassing" and the attainment of the higher self. This process requires a separation that is moral, cultural, and social. But this solitude and separation is not an aggrandizement of the ego. Nor in his radicalism does Zarathustra scorn self-discipline or what elsewhere Nietzsche considers asceticism, for the three evils he enumerates are voluptuousness, passion for power, and selfishness (3, 54), all opposites of self-control. However, Zarathustra offers a contrast to conventional self-control, arguing that society is an imposition of control and power over the individual and is built on perverted human values.
Man is the cruelest animal. At tragedies, bull-fights, and crucifixions, he has hitherto been happiest on earth. When he invented hell -- behold! That was his heaven on earth" (3, 57).
Zarathustra weaves a philosophy based on what Nietzsche would call "will to power" but which nevertheless involves a "hermit and eagle courage" (4, 73), a courage which is "subtle, spiritual, and intellectual" (4, 75). Without God or society, Nietzsche's higher soul is thrust into existential and necessary solitude, but learns to laugh and to dance.
It is important to note that Nietzsche presents Zarathustra and the hermit without a trace of satire, derision, or criticism. The role of prophet and hermit are such close parallels to Nietzsche's own life and thinking that they remain models of being even when the plaster saints and "pose ascetics" he blasts in Genealogy of Morals fall away from view and are discarded among the fallen idols. "All honor to the ascetic ideal insofar as it is honest!" writes Nietzsche, "so long as it believes in itself and does not play tricks on us" (Genealogy of Morals, 3, 27).
The Madman
Self-transcendence or transvaluation is necessary because contemporary culture is not animated by religion but by power, greed, corruption, and violence. To Nietzsche it is not a matter of restoring what he declares as myth and delusion. But he is keenly aware -- like his Zarathustra character and unlike the people in the marketplace, the bourgeoisie of his fin-de-siecle -- that something must replace God or the Western world will collapse morally -- and take the rest of the world with it. (Thus Nietzsche's chilling prediction that the next two centuries would be disastrous for humanity.)
However, that set of new and necessary values would not be forthcoming or capable of being universalized for the entire culture. Mankind teeters on the brink of this horrible realization, as the story of the madman in Gay Science (125) shows.
The madman is a combination of ancient Greek Diogenes, a Cynic philosopher, and the Hermit figure of the Tarot all in one, although ultimately the madman is another persona for Nietzsche's philosophical reflection. Only at the end of the passage do we learn that the marketplace and the people are our contemporaries, not ancient Greeks.
The madman's message is frustrated by the same obtuseness of the masses experienced by Zarathustra, this time an audience that is up-to-date in its arrogance and religious skepticism in contrast to the audience of Zarathustra. But, like Zarathustra, the madman realizes that his message cannot be brought to the marketplace. Here is the entire passage from Gay Science:
Have you not heard of that madman who lit a lantern in the bright morning hours, ran to the marketplace, and cried incessantly: "I seek God! I seek God!" As many of those who did not believe in God were standing around just then, the madman provoked much laughter. Has God got lost? asked one. Did he lose his way like a child? asked another. Or is he hiding? Is he afraid of us? Has he gone on a voyage? Emigrated? Thus did they shout and jeer.
The madman jumped into their midst and pierced them with his eyes. "Whither is God?" he cried; "I will tell you. We have killed him -- you and I. All of us are his murderers. But how did we do this? How could we drink up the sea? Who gave us the sponge to wipe away the entire horizon? What were we doing when we unchained this earth from its sun? Whither is it moving now? Whither are we moving? Away from all suns? Are we not plunging continually? Backward, sideways, forward, in all directions? Is there still any up or down? Are we not straying, as through an infinite nothing? Do we not feel the breath of empty space? Has it not become colder? Is not night continually closing in on us? Do we not need to light lanterns in the morning? Do we hear nothing as yet of the noise of the gravediggers who are burying God? Do we smell nothing as yet of the divine putrefaction? Gods, too, decompose. God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him.
"How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it? There has never been a greater deed; and whoever is born after us -- for the sake of this deed he will belong to a higher history than all history hitherto."
Here the madman fell silent and looked again at his listeners; and they, too, were silent and stared at him in astonishment. At last he flung his lantern to the ground, and it shattered into pieces and went out. "I have come too early," he said. "My time is not yet. This tremendous event is still on its way, still wandering; it has not yet reached the ears of men. Lightning and thunder require time; the light of the stars requires time; deeds, though done, still require time to be seen and heard. This deed is still more distant from them than most distant stars -- and yet they have done it themselves."
It has been related further that on the same day the madman forced his way into several churches and there struck up his requiem aeternam deo. Led out and called to account, he is said always to have replied nothing but: "What after all are these churches now if they are not the tombs and sepulchers of God?"
Nietzsche arrives at the inevitable link between God and morals. He makes the necessary conclusion parallel to Fyodor Dostoyevsky's persona in The Brothers Karamazov, who says, "If God is dead, everything is permitted." In Genealogy of Morals, Third Essay 24, Nietzsche writes: "Nothing is true, everything is permitted." Though Nietzsche did not read Dostoyevsky's novel, the two prophets of the future converge in their prophecy.
Nietzsche is not a formal atheist or a nihilist who gloats about the death of God, for he is not engaged with the details of God nor optimistic about the liberation that science promises. As commentator Safranski says, summarizing the Nietzschean task for the individual:
The issue is whether man can retain the ingenuity employed in inventing an entire heaven of gods, or whether he will be left empty after attacking them. ... The Ubermensch is free of religion. He has not lost it, but reclaimed it for himself. The typical nihilist has merely forfeited religion and retained life in all its profane wretchedness. Nietzsche aspired to salvage sanctifying powers for the here and now from the nihilistic tendency of vulgarization by means of his Ubermensch.
Thus Spoke Zarathustra is a great leap in philosophy, taking the degeneration of society and culture as a clear sign that the individual must chart values independent of what inevitably desires to crush the individual. In this period of his writing, the solitary Nietzsche was referring to what would become the "will to power," power understood as self-discipline, thought, and the actualization of self. Appropriately, Nietzsche's personae of hermits (and a madman's honesty) is the right vehicle for his exploration, complimenting Nietzsche's respect for solitude as the necessary condition for the development of a higher self.
The best collections of Nietzsche's writings are: Basic Writings of Nietzsche, introduction by Peter Gay, translated and edited by Walter Kaufman. New York: Modern Library, 1968 and The Portable Nietzsche, selected and translated with an introduction, prefaces, and notes, by Walter Kaufmann. New York: Viking, 1954. Thus Spoke Zarathustra is in the latter collection; Gay Science is in the former.


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Aunt Bessie's existing website was tired, dated, difficult to navigate and took an absolute age to load (20+ seconds for some pages), so they asked us to design & build a new one. At the same time as identifying that the website needed updating, Bessie's were in the throws of a comprehensive and smart brand refresh, from identity to packaging, all in a bid to engage with new audiences and promote the mid-week message, i.e. Aunt Bessie's make much more than just Yorkshire Puddings. From Sweet Potato wedges to Sticky Toffee Pudding, so everyday deserves Aunt Bessie's!
Bessie's knew that they needed a new website and that there had to be clear consistency between their new brand and packaging and their digital presence.
Through our digital workshop process we helped Aunt Bessie's identify and outline the core brief, to identify how the new website could support their business objective to get more people eating Aunt Bessie's products on more days of the week. So in a weird way, we also gave our fellow pitching agencies the perfect brief. Derrr...
Honestly? The creative we presented within the pitch pretty much bombed, as we'd focused on a fridge/fridge magnet design concept, depicting 'Aunt Bessie's Kitchen'. The idea was miles off the new brand & packaging. Thankfully, our strategy and process was relatively useful, so back to the drawing board we went.
The final designs are literally an online transformation of the packaging, with Aunt Bessie's apron forming the shape for all pages, flowing down each section. The colours, typography and graphical elements all hark back to the brand and packaging - all synonymous with the nation's favourite Yorkshire Pud brand.
We also wanted the site to be an intelligent marketing tool - with every aspect considered and focused around the aim to get more people eating more Aunt Bessie's products on more days of the week. Everyday a different product is promoted on the homepage, a different top tip displays, and within the recipe section there are more tips and product options.
We've also incorporated the ability to personalise content, so in its simplest form, if you've visited the site recently and read an article, we'll show you a different one. Getting more intuitive though, if you register an account and tell us a little bit more about yourself, we'll show you content specifically relevant to your preferences. For example - if you're a busy mum with three kids, we'll show you articles and recipes to entertain the kids, provide quick & healthy midweek meals and so on. Keep an eye on the site in the coming months as this functionality will be rolled out...


text: Timbres are richly portrayed, with a density of color and warmth that makes even the best solid-state sound very slightly mechanical or artificial. Absolare totally lack any synthetic patina, instead rendering instruments and voices with a natural and organic quality. It's the kind of sound that as soon as the music starts playing just seems "right"—you don't have to consciously overlook the system's lack of timbral realism to enjoy the music. The Absolare electronics have a directness and realism that conveys a more convincing illusion of live instruments.


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Visa Approved, Migration UnderwayPosted on June 22, 2014 | 1 CommentChecking in a couple of months later, to catch people up. After applying for the Swedish Visa in April, there were some bumps and curves to the road that might […]
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