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It was filmed in Archer, Florida[1] and featured historic homes and churches in and around Archer. It was produced by Steve White Productions. A baby plops out of a rainy, stormy sky into the arms of the town's beloved, vaguely addled spinster Grace Zabriskie. Miracles suddenly reverse the fortunes of the town as drought and unemployment disappear, only to be replaced by boosterism and greed. The Great Wall is Zhang's first English-language film. The film received mixed reviews from critics, who said it "sacrifices great story for great action.

It is based on Dean Koontz's novel Shattered. NY Times. Retrieved 1 September Terry Scott returned to the series after his minor role in the first film of the series, Carry On Sergeant a decade earlier. The film is, in part, a spoof of Kiplingesque movies and television series about life in the British Raj, both contemporary and from earlier, Hollywood, periods. Kurt Vonnegut Jr. In a career spanning over 50 years, Vonnegut published fourteen novels, three short story collections, five plays, and five works of non-fiction, with further collections being published after his death.

He is most famous for his darkly satirical, best-selling novel Slaughterhouse-Five As part of his training, he studied mechanical engineering at Carnegie Institute of Technology now Carnegie Mellon University and the University of Tennessee. He was interned in Dresden and survived the Allied bombing of the city by taking refuge in a meat locker of the slaughterhouse where he was imprisoned. After the war, Vonnegut married Jane Marie Cox, with whom he. It is a sequel to the film, Bad Moms. It received mixed reviews, with criticism aimed at the thin story and raunchiness.

Her plans are derailed when her overly critical mother, Ruth Christine Baranski , texts her to say that she is coming for Christmas. Meanwhile, Kiki Kristen Bell is still overworked with her four kids but now her husband Kent is much more helpful. Kiki is surpris. List of vampire films. Dracula films There have been numerous films based on Dracula, an Gothic horror novel by Irish author Bram Stoker. It introduced the character of Count Dracula, and established many conventions of subsequent vampire fantasy. Most sources agree that the existence of this film is questionable because no details appear.

There are unsubstantiated claims that Horowitz was born in Berdychiv a city near Zhytomyr in Ukraine , but his birth certificate unequivocally states Kiev as his birthplace. Samuil was a well-to-do electrical engineer and a distributor of electric motors for German manufacturers. Horowitz's grandfather Joachim. This is a listing of the film and television appearances of actor Charlton Heston.

Several of his radio credits are listed as well. You damn near drown, but you come out smelling like a rose. Genre, Myth and Convention in the French Cinema, Indiana University Press, A list of Western films released in the s. Jones, R.

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This is a list of American female country singers. This is an alphabetical list of country music performers. It includes artists who played country music at some point in their career, even if they were not exclusively country music performers. Cahn Ja. Cumberbatch's television work includes appearances in Silent Witness and Fortysomething before playing Stephen Hawking in the television film Hawking in He has starred as Sherlock Holmes in the series Sherlock since Deadly Women is an American television series that first aired in on the Discovery Channel, focusing on female killers.

It was originally a mini-series consisting of three episodes: "Obsession," "Greed" and "Revenge". After a three-year hiatus, the show resumed production in and began airing on the Investigation Discovery channel as a regularly scheduled series. The series is produced in Australia by Beyond International. Deadly Women TV series Each of the three original episodes covered the cases of various groups of women who were united by the central theme of the episode.

These three episodes of the show were narrated by Marsha Crenshaw. This is a list of actors and actresses who have had roles on the soap opera Guiding Light. Its title is taken from the song of the same name, by Marvin Gaye and Kim Weston, which is played in the closing credits. Plot Two unrelated young girls who happen to look identical meet by chance. Memoirs of Water: Station, Houston. Daniel Barrow, Hairstyle, Scope: New York.

Suzy Lake and the Cult of the Idol. Obituary: Ann Lind, Peaches: Word To The Fatherfucker. Siobhan Hapaska: Kerlin Gallary, Dublin. Zin Taylor, The Locust, World War vs Tribal War. Good Will Hunting. Andrew J. Collective Action. Golden Streams: Artists' Collaboration and Exchange in the 's. Slant: Temporal Protocols. The 8th Havana Biennial: Two perspectives on two collaborations. Obituary: Doris Shadbolt Re-play: Edmonton Art Gallery, Edmonton. Virgorabbit, Virgodeer.

Will Ideology Pay the Rent? Corporate Kufic. The Foreign Issue. Kaliningrad's Luminous Cacti. Foreign as us: the work of Basir Borlakov. Interview with Gus Van Sant. Yuri Leiderman: Geopoetics 1, Althea Thauberger: Serious. David Byrne. An Interview with Vasif Kortun.

Simone Moir. Damian Moppett. Jeanne Randolph. The Invisible Arts. I've Been Thinkin'. The Evidence: A romantic interrogation of the work of Hilla Becher. Asia Pacific Triennial. The Art of Noise: Merzbow. Beyond Overcoming: Notes on Abstract Painting. Ephemera: Collected mail. Sputum: A diptych by Karma Clarke-Davis. Torpor, Los Angeles: Whole. Whose Heinie Is It Anyway? Documenta: Ein Echo. Torpor, Los Angeles: Outlaw Woman. Aesthetic Intelligence Yield. Places to dream from Maura Doyle's Art Services. The Singing Dunes: Colin Campbell, Torpor, Los Angeles: You do the math.

Triple Self-Portrait. Inside Images: A C project. Spaceport Saskatoonia. Love, love will tear us apart, again Obituary: Colin Campbell. Landscapes: Notes on a Town Without Pity. Untitled C Insert. Politics and Romance in James Carl's redemption. Coming Home. Mara Korkola: Lonsdale Gallery, Toronto. Landscapes: A View from Chicago. Landscapes: Letter from the Large Intestine.

Nothing and Something in the Work of Martin Creed.

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New Canadian Folk. Thing Culture. Hoser: Artists' Portfolio. Society Page. Centrefold C Shorts: Recent and Current Exhibitions. Art Metropole: Retail Catalogue 23, June C Invitational. Willie Cole: Miami Art Museum. Letter from Toronto: March Now is the time. Letter from Banff: March Cliff Eyland's Liverpool Notebook. Who is Michael Fernandes: Ray Cronin investigates the elusive works of a substantial artist. Watch: bona fide, Chicago. Obituary: Anita Aarons Letter from New York: December Flywheel: Nunnery Gallery, London.

Jack Nivan: Tableau Vivant, Toronto. Letter from London: January What to c: a guide to the season's major exhibitions. Faki: Open Studio Gallery, Toronto. Leesa Streifler: Latitude 53 Gallery. Juan Geuer: Present Intense. Here and Now: Ihor Holubizky looks at Brisbane's millennium-bridging triennial. Letter from Toronto: November, Friend or Faux: Robin Metcalfe looks for superficial meanings in three recent Halifax exhibitions.

Navigator: Philip Monk on recent works by Roland Brener. Letter from New York: October Kathleen Sellars : Gallery Connexion, Fredericton. Letter from Toronto: September Venetian Views: Introduction. Studio Visit: Carol Jackson, Chicago. Charlottetown Calling: September Liz Magor: Equinox Gallery, Vancouver.

Letter from New York: September What to c: a guide to the season's art events. Letter from Montreal: May Jacques Perron: Galerie Oboro, Montreal. Letter from Calgary: May Tom Dean at Large. Letter from Toronto: May C is dead. Extremities: Tom Dean Prepares for Venice. Letter from Halifax: May A Few of my Favourite Feher's.

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Neurotic Realism: Saatchi Gallery, London. Letter from London: May Letter from New York: May Letter from Chicago: May Letter from Montreal: February Letter from Calgary: February Yet, it has an attraction which I can't resist. It's a very old town; there was a settlement on the site during the Saxon era. The main historical attraction in Faversham is the old abbey where King Stephen is supposed to be buried.


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During recent years the abbey has been surveyed by architects and I believe it is to be reconstructed. Also of historical interest are the very old houses which are situated along the main streets. Some of these houses date back to the 10th century. Just outside the town, a Saxon burial place has been unearthed and many treasures have been found there. Most of these are either in the British Museum or Canterbury Museum. There are numerous factories on the outskirts of the town, e.

With industry, the town has grown in population as well as in size. During the last twelve years, three housing estates have been built and two new industries have been introduced. Faversham has a creek running through it, and there is a thriving fishing trade. Also, by the sides of the creek, there is a brewery, "Shepherd Neame Ltd. Owing to this there are numerous public houses in Faversham, all of them doing a flourishing trade. With all these big industries growing up, Faversham still retains some old craftsmanship in the making of wall plaques.

These are superbly made, and the art is a secret. I have never seen any plaques that are as good as the ones made in Faversham. Faversham must be, I suppose, similar to other Kentish market towns such as in appearance Ashford. It is just off the London-Dover road. The town is entered through a new housing estate and the buildings get older as one gets further into the town. The surrounding country is softly undulating. Hop fields are spread over this, the skyline being broken here and there by oast-houses. The villages that surround Faversham are really lovely in appearance, perhaps the loveliest being Chilham.

As you can see from this short description, Faversham is not a very fascinating or interesting town, but I like it. Mullen — 3AG. Out in the East Our stay in Singapore proved very interesting. My family and I visited many places. One of them was a quiet seaside resort called Port Dixon. It is about miles away from Johore Bahru where we lived. On this beach are springs of hot water coming from the sand. I used to like swimming in the sea, especially when it was rough.

My sister and I would swim under the huge waves when they came.

I seemed to be the only one who was affected by minute jellyfish which pricked. Nearly every night, my family and I went to the swimming bath at Terror. It was free and I was taught to swim properly by an instructor. I have won 3 certificates and 2 prizes for swimming. Although Singapore has a very hot climate all the year round, flowers are in abundance, because of the heavy rain, usually in the afternoon. This dries up in a matter of half an hour. There are some really beautiful gardens called the Botanical Gardens.

Here there are tame monkeys which are fed by everyone. For a holiday, we went to Hong Kong. Here we went up to the peak, in a tram. From the top we could see a magnificient view of the ships and harbour. After a few days, we returned to Singapore, by the ship "Asturias". After 4 years in Singapore we gladly returned to England, but now we wish that we were out there again. Rita Phillips 2AG. My pet Jimmy is a pale blue budgerigar. He was given to me by our maid Jessie when he was only five weeks old. He was a tiny thing and was hardly able to sit on his perch.

I have now had him just over a year and he is very tame and I have taught him to talk. He can say, "Pretty boy, Where's Joyce? He can also whistle part of "Pop goes the weasel", and he imitates the time pips on the radio. He also imitates the cat. When anyone enters the room where he is he says, "Hello, hello", until you answer him.

He loves to come out of his cage. When he comes out of his cage he flies round the room, and he lands on your head or on your shoulder. When he is on your shoulder he pecks your ears. When you are knitting or reading he will peck the book or wool. I think budgerigars are lovely pets because you can amuse yourself for hours just by watching them.

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The owl moves in his sleep, then yawns and opens a reluctant eye. But the fiery orb still hangs in the blood-red sky, so he again settles on his bough and drifts away into the fairyland of sleep. Gallantly refusing to submit his beloved haunts to another, the naming hero is firmly drawn away by the invisible Power that has supported him all day in his azure kingdom. Realising that he struggles in vain, he sends a promise to the Earth by his messengers, the arrows of light, that he will come again to rule his mighty kingdom.

Now Darkness comes to rule accompanied by his attendants — the ghosts. Once again the spectacled hunter blinks, stretches his wings and then prepares for his flight of pillage. Deep in the sandy ground, Brock, the striped gentleman, stirs and then lumbers upward to the surface where now abound the sounds and scents of the night. And now, like a gliding swan on the dark waters of a bottomless lake comes my Lady Moon to join the vast companies of other worlds set in the great indigo dome that roofs this world.

Smiling gently through the branches of the forest trees, she comforts the smaller and weaker creatures that live there. But slowly the East is filling with a greater light than hers, before which she bows and sinks slowly away. The sun has come to fulfil his promise. The sign of the "Red Lion" in the lonely village of Chalderwilton groaned in protest as the roaring, December wind buffeted it and caused the windows next to the swinging board to rattle in unison with their once proud, but now subdued, lion.

In the sky a full moon raced the black clouds in an endless chase across the heavens. Roger Alverney, the son of a wealthy landowner, placed his boots on the foot-stool and leant back with an oath. It was a liberty his father had taken in sending him down to Chalderwilton to collect the rent from a miserable farmer who begrudged giving it anyway; thank goodness, tomorrow he would be back in London, free to indulge in social pleasures — unheard of in this sleepy village. His meditation was broken by the landlord bringing a steaming bowl of hot punch, and placing it on the table next to the young gentleman who could reach over to fill his glass without rising from his chair.

Alverney poured some punch into his glass and held it to the light. Through the glass he had a distorted view of the landlord climbing the stairs to tighten his banging windows, and he could also see a rustic-looking farmer looking at him from the other side of the room. Alverney recognized him as Farmer Benson, the man he had collected the rent from earlier.

I must talk to somebody before I lose my wits. There's not a soul in Chalderwilton who can speak intelligently. Perhaps you have a shade more knowledge than these country bumpkins? Benson came across to Alverney eagerly enough on smelling the sweet smell of the punch, and placed himself on the chair next to the fire which was blazing away merrily, scorning the cold winter's night outside. What with the price of corn declining in the markets and the labourers demanding more pay I will be forced to sell-out unless I get some money soon.


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  6. I am sure something will turn up", said Alverney, and with a laugh he called the landlord. I must get to Salisbury by morning in order to catch the London stage which leaves at 10 o'clock sharp. I must get back to London. I suppose I will have to walk to this Mereton Rise and meet the stage.

    According to local tales this Farley man, a ruthless highwayman who used to impersonate the Salisbury stage-driver, pick up the passengers, and kill them, still takes the old coach-way. He was hanged for his crimes, fifty years ago. He had pretended to sound nonchalant but betrayed himself by hesitating. Farley needs money as much as I do, so keep tight hold of your money-bag. Ah do I see a light? Yes it was a light. A stagecoach came lumbering around the road, was lost from view for a moment, and then pulled up to a halt on seeing Alverney waving his arms.

    Alverney clambered aboard and sat next to the driver who then spurred his two black horses on towards Salisbury. Don't believe a word of these ignorant country folks sir. Their minds. I have a bottle of spirits in it. We will drink to restore our spirits! The driver reached for the trunk, passed it to Alverney, and sat back waiting for the bottle to be opened. Your name, sir? The driver unhooked the lamp, held it to his face, and replied, "Farley sir, Grant Farley.

    Alverney's body was found next day and at the inquest the coroner adjusted his collar, picked up his quill and wrote: "This man, Roger Alverney, was found mutilated and dead at the place locally called "Farley's Gallows. On the deceased's face was the mark of a horsewhip. She had brown hair and piercing eyes a large hook-like nose and a double chin.

    She wore a red striped dress decorated with roses. One morning, she received a letter from her uncle in America, whom she had never seen before, that he had invited himself to stay with her for a few days. He also mentioned he would be due that day about two to three o'clock. The afternoon arrived and, as Mrs. Blump was sitting in her chair, the doorbell rang. Hurrying to the door she opened it to reveal a man with a bag in his hand.

    She seized him and took him Inside and seated him in her best chair. The man was trying hard to tell Mrs. Blump something, bust Mrs. Blump kept on butting in and talking instead, offering him sandwiches, biscuits and cakes and last of all a cup of tea. The man again tried to speak and again was interrupted by Mrs Blump. At last, after he had eaten this wonderful meal he thanked her very much and asked if he could put the new washer on the tap, as he was the plumber.

    Slump's mouth opened in amazement and she fell on the floor in a dead faint. Peter Bentley — 1AG. It was the 14th of November, A door of a cabin, set in the wilds of Canada, opened and a man stepped out. He was a trapper by the name of Ross Parker and he had decided that it was time he inspected his traps. After adjusting his skis he took hold of the ski sticks and set off. All around him was quiet and the silence was only broken by the continuous falling of snow from the laden branches.

    Over-head the sky was a dull leaden grey, typical of a Canadian winter day. Mile after mile went by as Ross skimmed over the smooth, dazzlingly white snow until he came to the first trap. There was a female coyote not more than 5 years old in the trap, and she had a good fur liable to fetch at least 50 Canadian dollars. Ross quickly finished the job of skinning the animal, and resetting the trap. The rest of the carcase was buried under the snow because the smell of warm blood touched by a human hand would scare the other animals away. Ross slung the fur over his shoulder; then once again his skis were running smoothly over the snow to the next trap.

    Snow was falling thick and fast now and Ross had great difficulty in keeping his balance because of the strong, biting wind. He twisted and turned in his efforts to keep balance and although he was a first rate trapper Ross was beginning to get worried because out in this barren, desolate waste of snow there would be nobody to help him if he became exhausted and the cold over-powered him. How he longed to sink down into that fathomless deep blanket of snow, but he knew that if he did he would never be able to get up again and he would be just another lonely victim of the wild.

    Every nerve and sinew in his body told him to rest in the snow but his will-power told him go on and on. Then, just as he was nearly dropping dead with fatigue and cold, the snow stopped, and ahead of him he saw the cabin glistening white like a fairy house on a Christmas cake. His steps became lighter and lighter and as he reached the cabin door a coyote howled way out in the wilds mourning for his mate who had been caught in Ross's trap.

    Christine Chambers — 2AM. The sea has a temper, The sea has a frown, And dashes, and crashes, Roars up, then calms down. A change so unnatural, A change so absurd, When anger and tossing Stops, then not a word. But anger diminished, The sea makes no sound But rippling laughter, Then kisses the ground. It was suggested that I give a resume of an average day of my life as a student at Hart Junior High school in Washington, D.

    Hart is about as large as a city block and has approximately nine hundred students in it. It is a new school and a very pretty one to attend. I awoke bright and early at about seven o'clock, stumbled to the bathroom, and washed for school. After I had gotten dressed and eaten, I was ready to leave for school. Since it was raining, Mother drove me to school for I had to be there at eight fifteen, for a Junior Red Cross meeting.

    At nine o'clock the bell rang and I hurried to my homeroom for a fifteen minute opening period. My first class of the day was physical education, where we played a game of volley ball. After physical education it was time for algebra class. There we learned how to work distance problems. After algebra we had French where we had a test.

    In the next class, which was typing, we worked on a new lesson and were given a speed drill. It was at last time for lunch. I went to my locker and put away my books. In the cafeteria I bought a hot lunch for thirty-five cents. After eating I went to the dance which was held during lunch period on rainy days.

    I had to leave the dance a few minutes early in order to go on Hall Monitor duty. My post was in front of the girl's gymnasium. The next two classes were my favourites, history and English. After those two classes I reported back to my homeroom. The bell rang at three o'clock and it was time to go home. When I got home, I did my homework, ate dinner, and watched television. At ten o'clock it was time to go to bed, for I had to get freshened up for another day at school. Joyce Wheeler— 3BG. I stand on the verandah of my home, and look to the northward where the sky is dark.

    The quietness of the day is only disturbed by the sound of traffic accelerating to climb Testa Ferrata Hill, and by the distant laughter of little children. The sun is shining brightly overhead, and, apart from that ominous darkening of the northern sky, it is a beautiful day.

    Suddenly I hear it. Almost gently the rumble of thunder or could it be gunfire from a warship many miles at sea? My eyes focus on the black skies, which even now are beginning to break up into patches of Cumulus - Nimbus clouds. The sight is both beautiful and frightening. The clouds before me are suddenly split by a thin streak of lightning, and. Even the sound of the children's laughter is stilled, as if, they too were awed by the majesty of nature. Another sheet of lightning, brighter than the sun, dazzles my eyes, and almost immediately the heavens resound to another mighty clap of thunder, drowning all the other sounds of the thronging streets below, before the cold of death strikes me like a blow.

    I close my eyes to shut out the almost continual flashes of lightning, and, deafened by the sound of thunder, I hurry into the house as the heavens open and we are engulfed by rain and storm. Ronald Fowler 4AM. One day Mole said to Ratty, "Please may we go to see my old home?

    It isn't far from here. So they packed the picnic lunch. When they had done this they decided who should carry it. Mole did because he said as a joke "You, will probably start dreaming and drop it. So they set off. When they reached Mole's old home, they decided to have lunch. Afterwards Ratty asked if he could see the tunnels Mole had told him about on the way. Mole jumped up and ran in after him shouting to him to come back. But Ratty would not listen to him, and while Mole went one way he went another.

    After a while Mole saw that it was useless to try to find him, so he sat down and he waited, and he waited, and waited, but there was still no sign of Ratty. When evening came he went to look for him again. At last he saw his footprints in the ground and ran down into the tunnel which they led into. Soon he found him; Ratty was very ashamed. A bird will never leave its eggs alone in the nest for fear of animals and other birds stealing them. Bird's eggs vary in cololur, shape and size. A heron's egg is oval like a hen's egg but it has a light blue tinge to it; a quail's egg is light brown with darker brown specks on it; a willow wren's egg is very small, white in colour with brown dashes; a mallard's egg is oval shaped and dark green in colour.

    Birds' nesting habits also differ. A nightjar lays its eggs on open ground; a linnet builds a nest of twigs lined with wool and grass; the ringed plover scrapes a hole in the sand or shingle to serve as a nest; and the long-tailed tit builds a dome-shaped nest of moss, covered with lichen and lined with feathers. Birds' eggs are placed in the nest with the narrow point inwards to prevent them from breaking when they roll if the nest is shaken in the wind. Work in the busy Town has ceased, And all its workers are released, From offices and shops around Converging on the underground.

    The old, the young, singles and pairs, Jostle and bustle their way to the stairs. Reaching the platform they all wait, Poised like starters at the gate, All waiting for the screech of brakes, That any homeward-bound train makes. Have you ever thought just how much life a large railway station sees? Behind the noise and the never-ending succession of trains and people, many scenes can hold the interest of an observant watcher. In the throng of hurrying people you can usually pick out schoolchildren. They invade the trains, "bag" all the best seats, make sticky messes with all manner of queer-named sweets and add a large quota to the earsplitting noise.

    Similarly, squads of soldiers are easily spotted as they wend their way towards the train, rucksacks and kitbags on their backs, cracking jokes among themselves as they begin their journey for some far, foreign place where they will spend the next few years of their lives — far from their own homes, linked to the family circle only by letters.

    Train-spotters manage to squeeze in by the way of platform tickets and make a general nuisance of themselves. The trains whistle, chuff and add to the tremendous clamour in the station while, for the ninth time, a girl drearily announces over a microphone that train number so and so is leaving such and such a platform In precisely two minutes. On hearing this the person next to you suddenly comes to life and makes a belated dash for that particular platform.

    A businessman is comparatively easy to spot. He buys a paper consults his watch, makes for a certain platform and settles in his seat with at least ten minutes to spare. All this is done with an ease born of long practise as he travels the same route every day. Almost inevitably you may find a mother, with a baby and two children, struggling along a platform and trying to find a seat, during which time the baby cries and the two children do their very best to get themselves lost among the milling crowd.

    Is it any wonder her sharp voice can be heard snapping at her two children? The rafters ring, a train shrills a blast on its whistle, the guard's green flag waves and a young girl says goodbye to her anxious parents, while thinking excitedly of the new job awaiting her. She assures her mother that she has everything necessary and that she will write as soon as she arrives. As the train gathers speed and her parents become blurred spots a sense of being forlorn comes over her, but this is soon lost in her excitement.

    Nearly always there are some tender farewells between a young couple who are to be parted. All of these are seen by the station. A crowded and noisy buffet is always a source of delight to an observer. Assistants serve at a dizzy rate — they have to! People demand sandwiches, rolls, pies, cakes, drinks, tea and milk. Somehow the hard-working assistant serves everyone who goes to the buffet. There are nearly always bookstalls, telephones and people who use them for hours , noisy porters trundling -heavy loads of luggage, whining, frightened animals, slot machines, advertisements, waiting rooms, a lost property office, a subway and a million milling people who all push, jostle and shout to be heard.

    It is virtually impossible to write of all that a railway sees, but it must surely see a good deal of life. Humourous things, drama, sadness, anxiety, fright, happy reunions, anger, laughter, joy and often bewilderment are only a few of the things it sees among the surge of people and the noise. But not only the rafters and the weather-beaten glass see all this -- anyone who is interested in life can see it in all its aspects at the nearest large railway station.

    Mr Patrick. He was like this when I first saw him. His age was about 70 and he had a grey moustache. His face was round and chubby, but was full of wrinkles. He was of medium height and on top of his plentiful hair was always perched a tweed cap. Under his white coat he wore a grey suit and in Winter a grey scarf. He always wore a pair of black shoes, most brilliantly polished, and grey socks. When the weather was very cold he wore brown leather gloves. He was liked by everyone and I think, by the sound of his name and 'by the way he talked, that he was Irish.

    One day when we went to school there was no one to take us across the road; when we came home there was no Mr. Patrick, only a policeman. The next day there was a policewoman, and so, as we did not know where Mr. Patrick lived, we could not go and see him.

    Then we were told that he had died and that the school would collect money for a wreath. We missed Patrick and his white coat. Cadman — SAM. The main drawback when packing for travelling is that we always throw things into our rucksack without thinking how much better it would be to avoid being cluttered up and yet carry all the essentials.

    Here is a brief outline of how to do so:—. It is best to chose equipment which will serve for several different purposes. A sheath knife with a good handle and a heavy blade can be used for a supplementary tent peg or a tin opener. An air cushion can carry water for cooking or for a shower bath. The best purpose cooking utensil for light weight campaigning is a billy-can which can serve many purposes.

    It is best to buy a framed rucksack with a light aluminium support. This will carry a lot of bulky items — sheet sleeping bag, blankets or quilt sleeping bag, gym shoes, primus stove and a cooking pan. If needed, extra extension may be put on, made out of thick canvas or strong plastic in the shape of a tube with draw strings at each end. This will be excellent for holding oddments — towels, handkerchiefs, emergency rations and spare sweaters and scarves which can be taken out from either end when the weather gets chilly.

    Always have a light plastic mackintosh tied by string to the outside of the pack so that it is always ready when the rain comes. It is essential to have a number of large, strong pins. These can always be used for strengthening the rucksack, or put into the rucksack in case of emergency. For anyone who intends to go far on foot it is wise to spend a little time adjusting straps from which the pack is slung. It should always ride high on the shoulder blades, and should be fastened so that it will not swing about as you walk.

    The soft equipment is placed at the back of the pack so that no big lumps will pierce into you as you go along. It is a good idea to use items of clothing as temporary containers. Spare socks, for instance, can be stuffed; one with a packet of tea and a bag of sugar, while the other can hold hanker-chiefs or washing materials in a waterproof container.

    It is best to have a nylon tent so that it can be put just on top of the pack. Nothing is more frustrating than trying to retrieve a much-needed tent from the depths of your kit. Last Easter I spent my holidays with my aunt in the country when this strange experience happened.

    Taking a walk one evening I was caught unawares by a fog which descended rapidly on the valley. Retracing my steps I could faintly see a light in the distance. Making my way carefully towards it, to my relief I found it to be a cottage. My knocking on the door was answered by a middle-aged lady, who, upon hearing of my plight invited me in. By the lamplight I could see she was a pleasant-faced lady who quickly made me comfortable. She offered me a cup of tea which I gratefully accepted and as she moved around the room I noticed she walked with a limp.

    After a while the fog lifted a little so, thanking my hostess for the hospitality, I made my way home. My aunt was relieved to see me back, for she had been worried. Upon explaining what had happened, and of the kindness that I had received from the lady at the cottage, my aunt seemed puzzled and wanted to know the where abouts of the cottage.

    I explained as best as I could, but the only place she knew there, was an old derelict cottage which had not been occupied for a long time. Janet North — 3AM. On the 16th August, a group of children, from our school, looked after by Miss Yule, and Mr. Tomlinson, and Mr. Ousby from Verdala, went on a trip to Italy. D'Emannuele, a Maltese man was our guide and interpreter. After assembling at six o'clock in the evening at Customs House we were taken by st. Angelo boat out to M. We left Grand Harbour at seven o'clock and then, after exploring the ship, we tried to go asleep on the deck.

    There was water pouring down the deck from somewhere, and even though it was the hottest time of the year we were soon shivering. On arriving in Syracuse we waited for about an hour to get off the ship and then we all trooped to a cafe to have breakfast. After this we were taken by cabs to the railway station where we caught the express train, up the coast of Sicily, past Mount Etna, through Catania and Taormina, and up to Messina, where the train was shunted on board a boat and taken over to Reggio in Italy.

    We then continued our journey up to Rome, where a coach was waiting to take us to the Student Hostel. We stayed in Rome for two days visiting many places of interest and then went on a five day coach tour to Assissi, Perugia, Florence, Fiesde, Monticitani, Lucca, Leghorn and Pisa. We stayed at a convent in Assissi where we spent some of our money on Assissi work, such as tray cloths, cushion covers or handkerchiefs made by the nuns.

    In Florence we again stayed in a convent. Here we spent a good deal of our money on leather goods and other presents for our friends and relations. We stayed in Pisa just long enough to climb to the top of the Leaning Tower, visit the Whispering Gallery and the church, and buy a few odd souvenirs. We then returned to Rome where we stayed for another two days visiting St. Peter's Church, the Coliseum and the Zoo. Also the people who wished to do so could go to the Vatican City to see the Pope. On our last night the people who could afford it could go to see the opera "Aida".

    In Naples we stayed at an hotel which was certainly the worst one I've ever stayed at in my life. There wasn't much to see in Naples, but we did visit the excavations at Pompeii just outside the city. After a sleepless night on board this small ship we arrived in Grand Harbour where, after passing through the customs, we were met by our parents. Although I knew very few people going on the trip I soon made friends, and even though it was very tiring I thoroughly enjoyed it and thought it a well-worth-while experience.

    Pamela Cross — 4AM. The greatest stroke of good fortune I ever had was the birth of a certain civil servant. I say 'certain civil servant' because I didn't know his name then, and I don't know it now; but he unwittingly saved my life, simply by saying, "We'll have one here". The 'one' he was referring to was a lamp-post.

    The lamp-post which the civil servant ordered to be erected stood about half-way along Portsmouth's East-coast road and on the side nearest the sea. About 40 yards back from the road is a high levee, built up along the short-to prevent flooding. The top of the levee is about 20 feet across, and: it was here that we of the 'Tigers Dirt-tracking Club' used to practise on our old stripped-down 'bikes'.

    One afternoon, my friend 'Toff' Holland and myself were practising as usual and, having had enough for one day decided to go home. We cycled along the levee till we came to a steep, narrow path, composed of shingle, which ran down to the roadside. I was just starting to go down when he yelled, "Look out Ginger, here comes a car! This news did not worry me for I knew that I had good brakes and so, gathering speed I shot down the slope.

    About 15 yards from the kerb I gently eased on my back brake - - and nothing happened. I eased on a little more pressure - - and still nothing happened, for the slope was steep and the shingle was loose, and although my. The Author is invited to correct this printer's error. DMG ED. In the middle of the path, right at the kerb-side stood 'the' lamp-post, In the middle of the path, right at the kerb-side stood 'the' lamp-post, and at this I aimed myself. What followed was pretty much a matter of course and I did an old cycle trick which most boys who go dirt-tracking use, in order to avoid riding into a pile-up during a race.

    First I let off both brakes and then, in order to make the 'bike' jerk, I 'threw' on the back brake. The moment the 'bike' jerked, I released the 'back brake, jammed on the front brake and put my weight on the handle-bars. This causes the back wheel to flip round to the right and the machine just lays down between your legs. As I let go of the 'bike', it slithered away on its side and wrapped itself around the base of the lamp-post while its owner wrapped himself around the lamp-post a little higher up and hung on for dear life while the car shot past.

    To that civil servant, wherever he may be, I would like to convey my heart felt thanks. Walton — 5AM. For many years man has wondered what lies in outer space. He has been studying the heavens with large telescopes, some so big that when we look through them at the moon it appears only 50 miles away.

    To launch a rocket, first one needs to devise some kind of fuel enabling a rocket to get a thrust of 25, miles per hour the speed needed to escape the pull of the Earth. There is of course the possibility of atomic power being used for this purpose but it is too early to make any prophecies about this. If a satellite were launched miles above the Earth's surface there is still a very thin atmosphere, which would have a braking effect on the satellite. This would cause the satellite to lessen speed slowly and drop lower until it would come into denser atmosphere and vaporise like meteorites.

    Man's first objective in outer space would be most likely the Moon, as it is the nearest planet from the Earth. It is between , miles to , miles away.

    senjouin-kikishiro.com/images/kesizacy/2943.php The rnoon would be an ideal "stepping stone" for other planets. The Moon has no atmosphere; this would be helpful to astronomers as, on the Earth, one gets a distorted view of the stars and planets because of atmospheric disturbances, but the Moon would be perfect for astronomers. The rugged features of the Moon suggest many underground caverns and tunnels. The temperature of the Moon on the sunny side would probably be about degrees Fahrenheit but on the other side it may be degrees Fahrenheit below zero.

    It would be hard to construct a loose, light space-suit suitable for the two extremes.