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The sub heading of this blog is "me writing about photography because I want to" and that's the truth. Post number 47 and it's the start of month two.
2012 is underway and I'm planning to do quite a lot of blogging as the year goes by. I'm going to talk about education, press photography, photojournalism, light, technology, workflow, software, cameras and just about anything else that I come across in the day job.
If you read the blog and come up with any questions for me please let me have them. In the mean time, let's hope that 2012 serves us all well.


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The Ostfriesische Islands off the north coast of Germany developed as sea bathing resorts in the mid 19th century. The two main islands are Borkum and Norderney. The nearest ports for passenger service were on the River Ems estuary at Leer and Emden. Norderney was additionally served by operators based at the mouth of the Weser at Bremerhaven and the Elbe at Cuxhaven.
Above : Westfalen, built in 1907 : the last paddle steamer built for Borkum service out of the River Ems and the last in service. The Second World War was to bring her passenger work to an end. It was also to see her demise off the Atlantic coast of France in 1942 whilst operating as a minesweeper
Photo believed to be in the public domain due to age. This has been copied from another website which gives no information about the photographer.
Leer & Emden / River Ems based paddle steamer operators serving Borkum
AG Ems, the current operator serving Borkum from Emden and Eemshaven traces its history back to 1843 and the founding of the Ems-Dampfschiffahrtsgesellschaft "Concordia", offering services up the River Ems to Leer and across the estuary to the Dutch port of Delfzijl with the 30 m-long wooden paddle steamer Kronprinzessin Marie from 1834. A competing company was established at Leer and the paddle steamer Erbprinz Ernst-August entered service in 1845. A second ship was ordered by the Ems company and the name of their original vessel, which then became Emsstrom, was transferred over on her arrival in 1846. In that same year the first excursions to the island of Borkum were undertaken by the Kronprinzessin Marie. The arrival of the railway at Emden gave a boost to patronage for Borkum. Emsstrom was withdrawn in 1859 and it was not until 1867 that Wilhelm I was added to the fleet. With traffic growing, Emden-based Carl Dantziger placed the steamer Norderney in service in 1873. In 1883, the Bremen-based operator Rocholl put the paddler Victoria in service between Leer and Norderney and, later, Borkum once railway extension to Norddeich had made the Norderney route less attractive. Rocholl added a second vessel, Leda, in 1884 and their presence in the market required a reaction from the existing operators. The Leer-based company had gone into bankruptcy along with their paddle Konprinz von Hannover, so a new company the Leerer Dampschiffsgesellschaft was formed and the new paddler Augusta put into service in 1886. At Ems, the Concordia company became the Emder Dampfschiffsgesellschaft AG and in 1888 introduced as joint timetable and pricing strategy with the Leer company which was enough to force Rocholl out of the business.
The Emden company still had to improve its services and in 1889 the assets of the old Concordia company were absorbed into a new Aktiengesellschaft "Ems" and sufficient capital raised to allow a new paddler, Borkum, to be introduced to serve the same-named island. The Leer company added Victoria to their fleet in 1892 and the Emden company the new Emden as the two companies resumed competition.
Since 1888, ships were able to land a new jetty established by the Borkum-based Habich & Goth company rather than having to land passengers by a combination of rowing boats and horse-drawn carriages depending on the state of the tide. A new narrow-gauge railway was also built to link the jetty with the town of Borkum itself adding to the speed, comfort and convenience of the journey.
Whilst the new facilities proved highly attractive and led to growing passenger numbers, Habich & Goth put the paddler Dr von Stephan (and for a short time the steam yacht Varina) in service in 1892 to capitalise on this growth. The Ems and Leer companies were merged in 1901 under the AG Ems banner and the Habich fleet along with the railway on Borkum put into a new company with AG Ems as the major shareholder. AG Ems was now set fair to capitalise on the growing passenger numbers. In 1907 the paddle steamer Westfalen was added to the fleet. Further new tonnage arrived in 1909, but this was a screw steamer, making Westfalen the last of the line of side-wheelers.
The rapid growth in business came to a sudden stop with the outbreak of World War I and in the post war economic turmoil, the paddler Emden was sold off. The currency reform of 1923 brought economic stability and renewed growth, but this was once again stalled rapidly in its tracks by the effects of the Wall Street Crash and as a result, the Augusta was also sold. The next setback was the outbreak of World War II, when services were abandoned and during which the requisitioned vessels Victoria and Westfalen were lost on war service. The chapter of paddle steamers was over but the businesses continued.
Launched in May 1886 by Josef Meyer at Papenburg
Dimensions : 37.7 m x 5.04 m
116 Gross Registered Tonnes
Built for the Leerer-Dampfschiffahrts-Gesellschaft
Served from Leer to the Ostfriesische Islands, particularly Borkum and Norderney
In 1901, Augusta became part of the fleet of A G Ems, her erstwhile competitor.
Out of service from 1930
Scrapped in 1932
Wilhelm I
Built for the AG Ems
Built in 1907 by J L Meyer at Papenburg
Engines : Compound diagonal
Dimensions : 57.25 x 7.18 m
Built for the AG Ems at Emden for their service from Delfzijl to Borkum and for excursions to Helgoland
Requisitioned as a minesweeper in 1942
Sunk on June 15th 1944 during a bomb attack on St. Nazaire, France.
Operator based on Borkum in the Ostfriesische Islands
Dr von Stephan
Operator based on Norderney in the Ostfriesische Islands
In 2020 the Reederei Frisia runs an intensive ferry service between Norddeich on the mainland and the islands of Nordeney and Juist. The journey tmes are approximately 55 and 90 minutes respectively. Norddeich became the main ferrying port once the railways were extended to the coast in 1883, thus considerably shortening the journey time from Emden from where vessels originally sailed. Access to Norddeich was less convenient from the east and Nordeney continued to be served by vessels based on the Weser at Bremerhaven and reached, originally directly, but latterly mostly by connections at Helgoland from Cuxhaven and the River Elbe
Norderney was developed as a seaside resort at the end of the 18th century and gained in importance after 1836 when it became the regular summer escape for the monarchs of Hannover and their court. The advent of steamships allowed a service which was not dependent on winds but there remained a reasonably long journey and not to any regular timetable. In 1871 the Dampfschiffs-Rhederei Norden was established to improve this with the steamer Stadt Norden and works to construct a steamer pier on Nordeney. In 1893 the Nordeneyer Dampfschiffsrhederei Einigkeit was established in competition which led to an almost immediate sharing of a common timetable to avoid the competition being ruinous. This did not stop a new company, the Neue Dampfschiffs-rhederei Frisia entering the market in 1906 which saw the Einigkeit company driven out of business in 1909. Cooperation between the Frisia company and Norden companies led to amalgamation in 1917 in the AG Rhederei Norden-Frisia.
Hohenzollern was the final paddle steamer delivered to the passage (for Einigkeit company), but it was the Frisia IX (ex- Norderney), which had entered service in 1892 which was to survive the Second World War and remain on station until the end of the 1956 season.
Above : Hohenzollern (known for most of her life as Frisia IV), which maintained the service from 1907 until the beginning of World War II
Hohenzollern (later Frisia IV)
Built in 1906 by Gebruder Sachsenberg at Rosslau/Elbe
Built for the Nordeneyer-Dampfschiffs-Reederei "Einigkeit" on their short Norddeich - Norderney service
Her owners went out of business in 1909 and new owners were the Neuen-Dampfschiffs-Reederei Frisia
Renamed Frisia IV
The Frisia company merged with another local operator in 1917 to form the AG Reederei-Norden-Frisia
Requisitioned for service in World War II in 1942 as a minesweeper.
Lost on war service
Deutsche Seebaderschiffe 1830 bis 1939
By Claus Rothe
Published in 1989 by Transpress : VEB Verlag fur Verkehrswesen, Berlin
Short history of services to Germany's northern seaside resorts both North Sea and Baltic, including detailed vessel profiles of the many vessels.
Bremen / River Weser based operators
Hamburg / River Elbe based operators

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


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Home → Articles → New Jersey → The Inspired CJG
The Inspired CJG
How the RBG documentary moved CJ Griffin to build a first-of-its-kind public-interest center
Published in 2022 New Jersey Super Lawyers magazine By Jessica Glynn on March 17, 2022
When CJ Griffin first saw the Ruth Bader Ginsburg documentary RBG, something clicked.
Griffin, who hails from a rural Kansas town with no stoplights, wasn't looking to the law. She moved to New York to do social justice work, with nonprofits like the Astraea Lesbian Foundation for Justice. It wasn't until she decided on law that she realized she'd better finish her bachelor's.
In 2013, her first year at Pashman Stein Walder Hayden, Griffin agreed to take a public records case and found herself before the New Jersey Supreme Court. She lost that one, and hundreds of billable hours along with it, but headline-making wins soon followed—like her first police transparency case, North Jersey Media Group Inc. v. Township of Lyndhurst, which made dash camera footage of deadly force incidents public. Next came the appellate decision that non-New Jersey residents can request and obtain state records, which she won through a campaign of lawsuits convincing judges to reverse denials.
While she was building her open records practice, she also made a point of taking on amicus cases for the ACLU. The idea of expanding that work and starting a pro bono program at Pashman had been percolating the day she saw RBG.
Griffin was particularly inspired by the legal strategies Ginsburg borrowed from Thurgood Marshall, using litigation to win historic victories for women's rights like he had for civil rights. "I felt very connected to it because it was the way I was viewing impact litigation," Griffin says. "I stayed up all night after the documentary and wrote a business plan." Her dream? Build an in-house public-interest entity.
A year later, the Justice Gary S. Stein Public Interest Center was born, so named for the state Supreme Court justice who joined the firm in 2002. Helmed by Griffin, the Stein Public Interest Center is dedicated to advancing social, racial and economic justice; protecting civil liberties and constitutional rights; and promoting an open and transparent government.
In October 2021 alone, the center had seven attorneys argue before the New Jersey Supreme Court.
"I believe there's not any New Jersey firm appearing before the Supreme Court more than we are," says Griffin. "It's an honor to have clients that are trusting us to make these arguments and to play a role in so many decisions that are really going to make a difference and be very protective of constitutional rights, even above what is provided under the U.S. Constitution. I think we're having a tremendous impact."
That impact is best illustrated through landmark Supreme Court cases, but landmark dismissals work, too.
In the summer of 2020, while the country reeled from the murder of George Floyd, the New Jersey Supreme Court was set to review a suit Griffin filed on behalf of Libertarians for Transparent Government to obtain the name of a cop who was terminated for "racially offensive behavior."
Then-Attorney General Gurbir Grewal had long disagreed with Griffin's position that the public was entitled to that information, but in June, had a change of heart. The AG's office not only gave Griffin's client the name and paid her client's legal fees, but also issued new directives requiring all police agencies to annually disclose the names of officers who received major discipline.
"I don't know that the directive would have happened but for this case of mine pending, because it really put public pressure on the attorney general," Griffin says. "The oral argument would have been that September, when people were in the streets marching in Black Lives Matter protests, including the attorney general. The press is calling and saying, 'Hey, you just filed a brief saying the public is not entitled to the name of this trooper?'"
The suit was dismissed, but a new one rose quickly after the police unions sued over the directive. Griffin then filed an amicus brief on behalf of the National Coalition of Latino Officers and Law Enforcement Action Partnership, arguing that transparency benefits the police and especially minority officers. Both the Appellate Division and Supreme Court upheld the directive; in 2021, the first annual Major Discipline Reporting findings were published.
In another change-making New Jersey Supreme Court decision in 2021, this time involving bias in jury selection, Griffin represented The Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers of New Jersey.
At issue was the prosecution's move in a criminal case to run a secret background check on a prospective juror, who was Black, after the judge refused to remove him for cause.
"We argued the state shouldn't be allowed to do a criminal background check unless they obtain some kind of lead from the court—and there would be such limited circumstances we can't even identify what that would be—but they can't just do it on their own."
The court agreed, reversing the defendant's murder conviction due to lack of a fair trial. While Griffin thinks it's "a little kind" to call what the prosecution did implicit rather than explicit bias, the unanimous decision held that even implicit bias could hinder a defendant's rights, and called for a two-day Judicial Conference on Jury Selection focused on implicit bias.
"It's a huge decision in the sense that the Batson test, which looks at jury selection and use of peremptory challenges in a discriminatory manner, focuses so much on explicit bias," she says. "Very rarely is that type of discrimination explicit."
Griffin also helped roll back the police's power to stop motorists without just cause in State v. Roman-Rosado, in which a defendant stopped on a license plate violation was subsequently convicted of a crime based on evidence found in a vehicle search. The violation? A tiny portion of the words "Garden State" on his plate was covered.
"The trial court found the plate was not fully obstructed, but the way the statute was written, if any part of the license plate is covered, then the stop is valid—even though the officer testified he was looking for a reason to pull the car over," Griffin says.
She argued on behalf of the Latino Leadership Alliance of New Jersey, presenting data showing significant racial disparities in who is pulled over on plate-frame violations, noting that the statute as applied meant the police could essentially pull over anyone at any time, since most cars in New Jersey have a frame covering a small portion of the plate.
"The court refused to apply the statute in that way because it would give police far too much discretion to stop anyone if they were looking for a reason to, which would often be racially discriminatory," Griffin says. Now, the only way police can continue to stop drivers for a plate-frame violation is if the entire words "Garden State" or "New Jersey" are covered—a holding more protective than its federal law counterpart, established in Heien v. North Carolina. In that case, the U.S. Supreme Court held that if a law enforcement officer's misinterpretation of law is "reasonable," then a stop, and any subsequent evidence seized, is valid.
"There's been tons of legal debate as to how bad Heien is, how ambiguous 'reasonable' is," Griffin says. "New Jersey is an ideal place to litigate because our Supreme Court is often more protective, so even if there is bad federal precedent, we can still win here."
Reflecting on the center's first two years, Griffin says it's been especially gratifying to share her enthusiasm with colleagues.
"It's wonderful to see it come to fruition, and it's because so many people are coming together to volunteer their pro bono hours," she says. "It's not always true you encounter lawyers that love being lawyers or who love the law, but this firm is full of people who find this super rewarding, challenging, exciting and valuable."
CJ Griffin
Top Rated Media & Advertising Lawyer
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2014 Nissan Versa Note: The Versa Sings a Sweeter Note
Standard by Jeff Stork July 17, 2014 2 Comments
Of course it's going to happen. An inevitable side effect of the gayby boom is that before you know it, little Demosthenes and Echinacea will learn to drive- and after the price of the first wheel replacement on Dad and Dad's A8L, it will be time for a first car of their own. Which will probably launch a whole other set of problems. Kids are already expensive enough to raise, not even taking into account the tuition at the private performing arts high schools, and those liberal arts colleges cost serious coin. So while the kids may be downloading brochures on A3 and the new 1-series, the reality is that what they really need is probably just a good, safe, inexpensive offering. And that's where a whole class of compact cars like the Versa Note come in.
I digress for a moment- when I came of automotive age in Flint, Michigan in the 1970s, I could have any General Motors compact I desired, which meant a Vega or a Chevette. With the Vega's most uncertain engine reliability, I went with the Chevette- which handled better anyway. And for the era, it was a reliable yet pretty darn primitive automobile with thirteen inch wheels and a Thoroughly Modern Buckboard ride. It was in many ways a Model T for its day, which is to say kinda awful, but it was mobility and I was pleased as punch to have it.
The point of my detour is to remind us that the standards for automobiles have advanced dramatically since then, and so while the pretty much universally panned Nissan Versa sedan, proud titleholder of the cheapest new car you buy competition- is decried by some journos as being nothing more than a Trabant, the reality is that while it may be an unengaging little slug, it's light years away from the econoboxes of a generation ago.
Plus, our test car isn't the dour Versa sedan but rather the new Note hatchback. The Note shared the sedan's wheelbase but is over a foot shorter and offers much more visually engaging styling and a handy hatchback to boot. Up front it has the up to date Nissan frown and toward the back it's a squarish shape that provides for maximum cargo space. It's very square-shouldered, rather like a big chest freezer with wheels, but that provides for a spacious cabin. It's more upscale than the Versa and a bit pricier as well, starting at $13,990 plus freight for a 5-speed bare bones special.
My test car is the highest trim level SV, which comes with a standard CVT transmission and a nicer interior with power windows and locks for a base price of $15,990. We're not done yet though, because there are no fewer than four upgrade packages to choose from and the bottom line can reach $19,300 with freight if you're imprudent with the option list. Our test SV was equipped with only the Convenience Package and floor mats, and listed for $17,605 after an $810 destination charge.
High trim level or not, once inside, the interior was a bit basic, but the seat cloth is interesting and the seats themselves are comfortable. There's even a driver's seat fold down armrest. The instrumentation includes a tach and a driver information center with basic data. The test car came with the SV Convenience Package that included a 4.3 inch color display, Satellite radio and a small but helpful back-up camera- well worth its $540 list price. There's an ocean of hard molded plastic- in fact, the dash surfaces so hard it seems they may as well have made it out of metal, but the workmanship is good and one must remember that they are not paying Orchestra Level prices. As far as the cheap seats go, it's not half bad.
Start the engine and it's a mixed bag. The 1.6-liter four cylinder engine is actually quite refined, but the CVT transmission is not a favorite. I'm not thrilled with CVTs anyway, and then Nissan decided to put a hard first gear with shift points into it, leaving you with all the droning of a CVT but thus negating pretty much the only advantage. The ride is quite decent overall – a bit bouncy in the back unladen but it'll be better with a month's worth of Thurston or Escaya's laundry in it. The power steering itself is typical novocain drive- overboosted electric with no sensation of road feel, but to my surprise, the brakes were very responsive and felt rock steady. The Note was respectably quiet inside, and another bright note was fuel economy- in my week I exactly duplicated the 31 city/ 40 highway estimates.
Let's be clear: the Note does not possess the heart and soul of a 911. It's not even up to the chassis level of a Volkswagen Golf, at about ten grand less we don't expect it to be. What it does offer is interesting styling, a roomy interior, a good safety rating, economical operation and a giant hatch that swallows a lot more than you would think, all with a price as tested of $17,605. As a first car, second car or kid car, it's really not a sour note at all.


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Home / The Young Castellan: A Tale of the English Civil War / Chapter Thirty.
Chapter Thirty.
The Young Castellan, by George Manville Fenn
"And all through my Neglect."
Seeing how completely prostrated his companion seemed to be, the officer turned to him as they reached the entrance to the private apartments and said, quietly—
"Perhaps you will show me a room where I and my officers can have some refreshment. We are starving. You can tell your servants that they have nothing to fear. I will see that they are not insulted; and then perhaps you would prefer to be alone."
"Thank you," faltered Roy, speaking in a strange, dazed way, as if he were in a dream.
"Come, be a man, sir," said the officer, rather sternly. "It is the fortune of war. A young soldier must not lose heart because he finds he is a prisoner. There, meet me at breakfast-time, and you and I will have a chat together. But listen first before you go: do not attempt any foolish, reckless pranks in the way of trying to escape. I tell you honestly, the castle will be so guarded and watched that it would be madness.—By the way, where are Lady Royland's apartments?"
Roy pointed to a door.
"Tell her when you see her that there is nothing to fear. But Master Pawson told me that he would place guards over her."
Roy drew a deep breath but said nothing, merely contented himself with pointing out the dining-room and library to his conqueror. Then he stopped at his own door.
"Your room? Very well; take my advice, and have a few hours' sleep," said the officer, opening the door, entering, and looking round by the light of the dim lamp. "Where does that big window open upon?"
"The garden,—the court-yard."
"And that narrow slit?"
"Upon the moat."
"Hah! Good-night to you."
He strode out, and Roy stood where he had been left, with his head throbbing as if it would burst from the terrible thoughts that invaded it.
Directly after he heard the tramp of heavy feet, a few words delivered in an imperious tone, and there was the heavy rap, rap of a couple of musket butts upon the oaken floor, telling him that guards had been placed at his door. His despair now knew no bounds, for he had determined to go straight to his mother's chamber, and ask her if Master Pawson's words were true. Now all communication was cut off, for he was a prisoner.
But his agony had reached its greatest height, and in a short time he grew calmer; for light came into his darkened brain, and he told himself he was glad that he had not been able to go and insult his mother by asking such a question.
"It is horrible!" he said to himself; "and I must have been mad to think such a thing possible. Liar! traitor! wretch! How could I think there was the faintest truth in anything he said!"
Utterly exhausted, he took off his armour and laid it and his sword-belt and empty scabbard aside.
"Done with now," he said, bitterly; and he sank upon the couch to try and think whether he was to blame for not searching more for the passage leading out beyond the moat.
"But I did try, and try hard," he muttered. "No; I could not foresee that the man chosen by my father would betray us. It was my duty to trust him. It was not my fault."
Through the remainder of that night he sat there thinking. Now listening to the tramp of the sentries at his door and overhead upon the ramparts, starting from time to time as he heard them challenge, and the word passed on, till it died away; now thinking bitterly of the ease with which they had been beaten, and of the men who must have fallen in their defence. Then, from utter exhaustion, his eyes would close, and consciousness leave him for a few minutes as he sank back.
But he never thoroughly went to sleep, the act of sinking back making him start into wakefulness, bitter and angry with himself for these lapses, and in every case springing up to pace the room.
"Poor mother! What she must have suffered through it all, and I scarcely gave her a thought. That wretch must have locked her in her room or she would certainly have been seeing to the wounded."
The clock chimed and struck, and chimed and struck again, with Roy counting the long lingering hours as they went on, for he was longing for the day to appear, hopeless as the dawn would be. But he wanted to see the general, to beg that he might go to Lady Royland; and the time when he would meet him seemed as if it would never come.
But at last the faint light began to dawn through the window, and, hot and feverish, he threw it open, to look out across the court and over the eastern ramparts at the coming signs of day, which grew brighter and clearer till the sentinels upon the terrace-like place, and the crenellations, stood out of a purply black plainly marked against the sky.
There were at least twenty men marching to and fro where at the most he had had two; and he groaned in spirit for a time as he went over again the occurrences of the past night. But far on high the sky began to be dappled with orange and golden clouds, which increased in brightness till the whole east was one glory of light, bringing with it hope; while the soft cool breeze he drank in gave him fresh courage and the strength to act the part he had to play,—that of one too proud to be cast down, so that his men should speak of him ever after as his father's son.
"Better than being in one of the dungeons," he thought, as he indulged in a good bathe, and dressed himself simply; after which he carefully hung up his armour, with the helmet above, and longed for his sword that it might occupy its old place.
"Better be lying rusting in the moat than resting in such hands as his," he muttered.
After spending some time at the window gazing across the court at the windows of the long chamber used for the hospital, and at the opening to the stabling down below, he fell to wondering as to how the poor fellows who were wounded had passed the night; and this brought a shudder, and he ran across to the little slit in the thickness of the wall to open the tiny casement, and look down at the moat, peering to right and left with starting eyes in expectant dread of seeing some ghastly sign of the horrible struggle that had taken place upon the tower platforms. But the lilies floated peacefully enough, and displayed their great white cups, and the fish played about beneath the leaves, making rings in the smooth patches where they rose—rings which spread and spread till they slightly swayed the reeds and rushes at the edge.
But he saw no dead white face gazing up at the sunlit heavens, and, search the waters as he would, there was not a sign to send a shudder through his frame.
All at once there was the tramp of feet overhead, and he went back to the other window, where he stood and looked across, and on the eastern rampart saw the guard relieved, the sun burnishing the men's steel caps; and soon after, as he watched, wondering what the day would bring forth, he heard the sentries at his door relieved in turn.
This ended, the echoes of the place were awakened by the blast of a trumpet, and the boy stood looking in wonder at the strength of the force drawn up in the court, and saw fully half of them march towards the great gate-way. Then he heard the drawbridge lowered, and the heavy, hollow tramp of the men as they passed across. Soon after, the neighing of horses reached his ears, and then came the beating of hoofs on the bridge, raising echoes from the walls at the other end, as a troop rode in and were drawn up on either side—sturdy-looking fellows, who sat their horses well, as Roy was fain to grant in spite of Ben Martlet's disparaging remarks.
He was still watching the troopers and their horses, when he heard a movement outside his door as if the sentries had presented arms; and directly after the general strode into the room, with his stern, thoughtful countenance lighting up as he encountered Roy's frank, bold eyes.
"Good-morning," he said, holding out his hand.
Roy flushed, but made no movement to take it.
"As one gentleman to another, Roy Royland," he said, smiling. "We can be enemies again when we have fighting to do. Come, we can be friends now."
Roy felt drawn towards him, and he slowly raised his hand, which was firmly gripped and held for a few moments.
"Ah, that's better!—Well, prisoner, how have you slept?"
"I? Not at all," said Roy, bitterly.
"That is a pity, too," said the general. "You ought to have slept. You had no guilty conscience to keep you awake. You only had the knowledge of duty done."
"And what about the poor fellows who fell fighting for us? Would not that keep me awake?"
"Ah, yes!" said the general, laying his hand on Roy's shoulder. "That is right. Well, as far as I have ascertained, not a man failed to cross the moat after his plunge. There are some ugly wounds, no doubt, but the doctor tells me that my men have suffered worse than yours, and he does not anticipate that any of your brave fellows will even have to stay in bed."
"That is good news," said Roy in spite of himself, for he meant to be very stern and distant.
"Better than was given me, my boy. There, come along; breakfast is waiting."
Roy shrank back.
"I would rather have some bread and water here," he said.
"Indeed! But I'm not going to feed my prisoner upon bread and water. I find you have plenty here, and that plenty you shall share. Ah! I see you do not want to meet our friend Pawson."
Roy started violently, and changed colour.
"He will not be with us, sir. Master Pawson prefers to stay in his own chamber, and I am quite willing."
"My mother?" asked Roy, in agony.
"Keeps to her room, boy. Her women are with her, and she knows that you are safe."
"She knows that?" cried Roy.
"Well, yes. I am what you would call a brutal rebel and traitor to my king; but I have a wife who knows what anxiety is about her husband and her son during this cruel war, and I took the liberty of asking an interview last night, before going to rest, and telling Lady Royland how you had behaved."
"Thank you, General—General—"
"Hepburn, my lad," and he caught the hand the boy held out. "And let me tell you that you have a mother of whom any boy should be proud—your father a wife such as few men own. She passed the whole night tending the wounded and winning our doctor's esteem. But come; I am hungry, and so must you be too."
Roy followed him without a word, feeling that, prisoner though he was, the salutes of the sentinels they passed were full of respect; and when he reached the dining-room, in which about twenty officers were gathered waiting their general's presence to begin, they rose like one man, and pressed forward to shake him by the hand, making the boy flush with mingled shame and pride, for had he taken the castle instead of losing it, his reception could not have been more warm.
"Come," said the general, after their hasty meal was at an end, "you are my prisoner, but I will not ask you to make promises not to escape. You can go about the castle; the men will let you pass anywhere within the portcullis. You will like to visit your wounded men, of course."
"And the other prisoners?" said Roy.
"I am going to parade them now; so come with me and see."
The strong force pretty well filled the square court-yard, but left a vacant place in the middle into which the general strode; and then giving his orders, there was a pause, during which Roy's gaze turned involuntarily towards the little turret at the corner of the gate tower; but no flag fluttered there, and he felt a pang as he gazed at the tall pole with the halyard against it swayed by the wind.
But he had something else to take his attention directly as he glanced round the walls.
There, standing at the window of the north-west tower, was the upper part of the figure of Master Pawson, framed as it were in stone; and Roy turned away in disgust as a hearty cheer arose, and he saw it was to welcome the brave fellows, who marched from their prison of the night, bandaged, bruised, and sadly damaged in their personal appearance, but with heads erect and keeping step with Ben Martlet, who looked as if he were flushed with victory instead of labouring under defeat.
The men were drawn up in line in the middle of the narrow square, and as they caught sight of Roy just by the general, their military manners gave place to a touch of human nature, for Ben nodded eagerly to his young captain, and wounded and sound all waved steel cap or hand, Farmer Raynes the latter in a left-handed way, for his right was in a sling; and then all burst into a cheer.
Just then, behind the prisoners and over the heads of the line of mounted men, whose horses' hoofs were trampling the flower-beds, Roy caught sight of something white in the open hospital window, and his heart leaped as his mother waved her handkerchief to him, wafting away with it the last trace of the vile mist Master Pawson had raised around her by his assertion.
Roy eagerly responded to the salutation, and then had his attention taken up by the action of the general, who walked along the little line of prisoners, who, to a man, returned his stern scrutiny with a bold, defiant stare. Then turning to Ben, he said—
"How many of these are disciplined soldiers, sergeant?"
"All of 'em far as we could make 'em," replied Ben.
"Yes. But how many were in the Royalist army?"
"Three and me," said Ben.
"You three men, two paces to the rear," said the general, sharply; and the three troopers stepped back.
"Nay, nay!" shouted Farmer Raynes, angrily. "Share and share alike. We were all in it; and I say if you shoot them, shoot us, too;" and he stepped back, the others after a momentary hesitation following his example.
There was a murmur in the Parliamentary ranks as the men witnessed this little bit of heroism, and the general shouted his next order in a very peremptory way.
"Attention!" he cried, addressing the prisoners. "I do not shoot brave men in cold blood, only cowards and traitors."
"Then have that hound down from yon window, general," cried Ben, excitedly, pointing to where Master Pawson stood looking on, "and shoot him. Nay, it's insulting good soldiers to ask 'em to do it, sir. We've an old stone gallows here on the ramparts; have him hung."
A yell of execration burst from the prisoners, and the ex-secretary disappeared.
"Silence!" cried the general. "Attend there. You, sergeant, and you three men, will you take service under the Parliament, and keep your ranks with the promise of early promotion?"
"Shall I speak for you, comrades?" asked Ben.
"Yes," they cried together.
"Then not a man of us, sir. We're Sir Granby Royland's old troopers, and we say, God save the king!"
The general made a sign, and the four men were surrounded and marched to one side in the direction from whence they had been brought; while at another sign, the rest of the prisoners, with Farmer Raynes at their head, closed up in line.
"What are you?" said the general, sternly, beginning with the sturdy tenant of the estate.
"Farmer."
"And you?"
"Butler."
And so all along the line, each man making his response in an independent, defiant tone.
"Will you come and serve the Parliament?" said the general. "I want strong, brave men."
He looked at Farmer Raynes as he spoke, but glanced afterwards at every man in turn.
"Then you must go and look for 'em somewhere else, squire. You won't find a man on Sir Granby Royland's estate."
A murmur from the rank showed how the rest acquiesced.
The general made a sign, and a squad of musketeers surrounded the men.
"Go back to your homes, my lads; but remember, if you are found in arms again, you will be shot. Escort these men beyond the moat."
Farmer Raynes turned sharply to Roy.
"Can't help ourselves, captain," he cried, loudly; "but shot or no, we're ready when you want us again.—Good-bye, Martlet, old comrade.—Take care of him, general, for he's as fine a soldier as ever stepped.—Now, my lads, three cheers for my lady, and then march."
The prisoners burst into a hearty roar, and were then escorted through the gate-way and over the drawbridge beyond the strong picket stationed by the earthwork. Here they cheered loudly again.
"Hallo! who are you?" said the general, sharply, as his eyes lit upon the flowing white hair and beard of the tottering old gate-keeper, who, fully armed, and with his head erect, took a few paces forward from where he had stood before unobserved.
"Sir Granby's oldest follower, and his father's afore him," said Jenk, in his feeble, quavering voice. "Do I go with Ben Martlet and t'others to the prison?"
"No," said the general, shortly; "stop and attend to your young master, and mind you don't get playing tricks with that sword."
"But I'm a soldier as has sarved—"
"Silence, Jenk!" said Roy, hastily stepping to his side. "You must not desert me; I'm quite alone now."
"Oh, very well, if it's like that, sir, I'll stop with you," quavered the old man; and he stepped stiffly behind his young master, unconscious of the smiles and whispers which arose.
Half an hour later the new garrison had settled down to its quarters; the three heavy guns from the battery had been brought in and planted in the gate-way to sweep the approach, and Royland Castle was transformed into a Parliamentary stronghold, protected by whose guns a little camp was formed just beyond the moat, and occupied by the cavalry of the force.
Ben and his three comrades were placed in a room opening on the court-yard, with leave to go anywhere about the quadrangle, with a sentry placed over them—hardly a necessity, for they were all suffering from wounds, of which, however, they made light when Roy went to them, setting him a capital example of keeping a good heart.
Then, finding himself fully at liberty to go where he pleased, the sentries saluting and letting him pass, Roy made for the hospital-room, longing for and yet dreading the interview, fearing as he did to witness his mother's despair.
To his surprise, as she eagerly caught his hands in hers, her face was wreathed in smiles, and she strove to comfort him.
"Defeated, Roy; but even your enemies honour you for your brave defence," she whispered.
"Ours, mother; not mine only," he said. And then, feeling that he could not even allude to the traitor who carefully kept out of his way, he went round to the men's beds with Lady Royland. The place was pretty full now, but in spite of serious wounds the room looked cheerful, and the men of both sides received them with smiles. There was only one sad face, and that was Sam Donny's, for he had taken to his bed again, "from weakness," Lady Royland said.
She passed on to the next bed, and Roy sat down by the poor fellow for a few minutes, to take his hand, gazing the while in his drawn and wrinkled face.
"I'm very, very sorry, Sam," Roy said, gently. "Come, you must try and get right again."
"Yes, captain," said the man loudly, with a groan. "I was to have been out in a few days if I hadn't turned worse. This doctor don't understand my case."
"What is it?" said Roy, anxiously. "Has your wound broken out again?"
"Nothing at all," whispered the man, with his eyes twinkling. "I'm nearly as right as you are, sir; and when you want me, here I am."
"Hush! Don't look like that. I'm gammoning my lady, so as they shan't send me away like t'others. You've got a strong man here when you and Ben Martlet wants to make a fight for it again. Oh-h-h!"
He groaned as he saw one of the wounded Parliamentarians looking in their direction, and Roy rose hurriedly and joined his mother, feeling as if he were playing false.
They finished their round of the place, and then went out into the corridor to talk.
"Don't speak about our disaster, Roy," said Lady Royland, clinging to his hand. "We must bear it, and your father cannot blame us for our reverse. There, I shall be busy here, and we must be thankful that we have fallen into the hands of General Hepburn, whose kindness and consideration are far more than we could have expected. He has only one fault—he is an enemy."
"Then you don't blame me for feeling as if I half liked him, mother?"
"We can like the man, Roy, without liking his principles," said Lady Royland, calmly. "Come and see me as often as you can; I shall generally be here, but I suppose you can come to my room sometimes."
"I suppose so," said Roy. "I believe I am to keep mine."
"Yes; General Hepburn told me you should; but, Roy, you will be careful."
"What—about trying to retake the place?"
"It is impossible, my boy. But I did not mean that; I meant about encountering that man—no, he is not a man," she cried, with an angry flash of her eyes. "He has taken possession of the library and the state-room, for he made a bargain with our enemies that his reward for delivering up the place was to be that he should retain the estate afterwards."
"And they wanted the stronghold put down, and agreed," said Roy. "Yes; I pretty well know all, mother. Of course you have heard how he got the men in? All through my neglect?"
"Yes, Roy! No, Roy, there was no neglect! We could not know of that communication."
"I did; but I could not find it. Oh, how that villain did cheat—"
Roy got no further, for his mother's hand was laid upon his lips, and they parted directly after, her last words being:
"Don't think of it, Roy; our position is a happy one compared to his. Even the enemy look upon him with disgust."
"And I was ready for a few moments to believe all he said," thought Roy, as he returned to the court-yard with a strong desire now in his mind, one which grew minute by minute. He only waited for a favourable opportunity to make his request.
Chapter Thirty One.
Old Jenk's Mind is Troubled.
Two days passed before Roy was able to ask what he wanted. For during this interval General Hepburn seemed too much immersed in affairs to more than give him a friendly nod when they met at meals. Men were being constantly sent out with despatches, and others came. Then the cavalry regiment was always going and coming, "sweeping the country," Ben said, when Roy sat talking by the old soldier, who was more injured than he would own to, and spent most of his time on a stone seat in the sun.
"Tchah! not I, sir," he said, peevishly. "My lady's got her hands full enough. We chaps know how to manage with clean water, fresh bit o' linen, and keep quiet in the sunshine, and natur' does all the rest. We're getting on right enough.—Eh, comrades?"
"Couldn't be better," said the corporal. "Soon be ready to begin again, Master Roy, when you see your chance."
Words like these, and a hint or two again and again from the sick men in the hospital, could not fail to set ideas growing in Roy's brain; but everything was confused and misty yet, and the time went on. Poor old Jenk crept up to the four men, and always had the sunniest spot in the corner given to him, and here he would settle himself, nursing his sword in his lap, and go fast asleep.
"Yes, sir," said Ben, one day; "you see he's so very old. I believe after all he's a hundred, and it's a honour to him, I say. Mean to live to a hundred myself if I can. But see how he sleeps; I don't believe he's quite awake more than three hours a day, and I dessay he'll just come to an end some time in his sleep."
"Poor old fellow," said Roy, softly, as he laid his fresh young hand upon the gnarled and withered fingers that rested upon the sword across the old man's knees.
"Ah, he has been a good soldier in his day, Master Roy, but it's rum how he can't see that he's not a fine strong man now! Why, you might really nigh blow him over, and all the time he keeps on talking about what he's going to do to Master Fiddler as soon as he gets a chance."
"What! he doesn't threaten to attack him?"
"Don't threaten, sir?" said Ben with a chuckle. "But he just do; and then he's going to retake the castle singlehanded."
"But he mustn't have a sword; he'll be making some trouble."
"Well, if he makes an end to Master Pawson, sir, I think he may just lie down and die at once like a regular hero, for he'll have done the finest thing he ever did in his life."
"Oh, nonsense, Ben! You and all of you must mind the poor old fellow does nothing foolish."
Ben growled and shook his head, for his ideas were not at all in accordance with his young master's.
"You need not look so sour, Ben," Roy hastened to say. "Master Pawson will get his deserts some day."
"Yes, sir," said the old soldier, sourly; "his sort generally seem to in this precious world. His deserts seem to be your father's fine old property to wallow in, and get fatter and rounder-faced every day. He'd better not go and sit and read big books belonging to your father atop of either of the towers when I'm nigh, sir, for I'll pitch him off as sure as he plays the fiddle."
The men laughed.
"Oh, you may grin," said Ben, "but I mean it. You know, I s'pose, Master Roy, as they've emptied his room and carried everything into your father's library,—fiddle and all. Oh, how I should like to smash that caterwaulin' thing!"
"I did not know it, Ben," said Roy, thoughtfully. "I keep away from there as much as I can. But I say, Ben," he continued, smiling, as he laid his hand upon the old soldier's knee, "your wound is hurting you a good deal to-day."
"Awful, my lad, awful; it's getting better, but it feels as if a hungry dog was gnawing the bone."
"I thought so."
"Why, how did you know, my lad?" said Ben, innocently.
"Only by your manner. But look here," continued Roy, "I want very badly to see that place where the enemy got in."
"Ay, and so do I, sir. I've lain awake at nights with that place worrying me more than my big chop as ought to ha' been well by this time. I don't understand it yet, only I expect as he let 'em in. So he filled all the long underground passages with the men, and got 'em there ready to go up the towers when the signal was given? I daresay he give it with his miserable squeak of a pipe."
"I'm going to ask General Hepburn to let me see the place."
"And he won't let you, of course. You'll have to give the sentries something, and perhaps they may."
"No; I'm not going to do anything underhanded, Ben. I shall ask the general himself."
"Oh come, I like that, sir," said Ben, derisively. "He didn't do anything underhanded along with Fiddler Pawson, did he?"
"Wound shooting, Ben?" said Roy, drily.
The old soldier chuckled, and the boy rose and went straight to the general's snug quarters in a little place adjoining the dining-room to prefer his request.
Chapter Thirty Two.
The Way in and the Way out.
The sentries challenged Roy as he went along the corridors, and it made his heart ache for this to take place in his own old home; but as he was passed on directly, he drew himself up, went to the door, knocked, and the general's deep hard voice cried, "Come in."
General Hepburn was seated at a table writing, but he threw down his pen as he saw who it was, and smiled.
"What can I do for you, my restless prisoner?" he said.
"I want you to give me a pass for the sentries, so that I can go and examine the passage through which you brought your men that night, sir."
"Why? What for?"
"Out of curiosity. Isn't it natural, sir, that after being here all my life, and then tricked like that, I should want to know how it was done?"
"Yes," said the general, abruptly; and he took up his pen and wrote something upon a piece of paper, swept some pounce over it, shook it, and gave it to his petitioner. "You can go and see it."
"And take Sergeant Martlet with me, sir? He was my lieutenant and adviser."
The general snatched the paper back, wrote in a line, and once more handed it.
"Yes," he said; "but I must be strict, boy. You will have a sergeant's guard with you all the time."
"Of course," said Roy; "but I am not going to try and escape to-day."
"No," said the general, smiling, and taking up his pen again; "you are not going to try and escape to-day."
As Roy went away, the guard was being changed, and the place rang with the tramp of men, the officer on duty visiting the different posts and examining everything in the keenest way.
"Ah, they're doing it right enough, Master Roy," said Ben; and the lad started, for he had not heard the old sergeant's approach. "Taking a lesson?"
"I was watching them, Ben."
"Ah, and if they warn't enemies, and taken our place, I'd say the general was a thorough good soldier, and knew what he was about."
"You do think that, then?" said Roy, who was glad to hear his own ideas endorsed.
"Course I do, sir. I growled and grumbled because I'm sore; but it does one's heart good to see the fine discipline, and the way in which they work our guns. He didn't seem very clever at managing his horse, but I s'pose he was right, for sorry am I to say it, he's made the castle twice as strong as it was, and only by having his men in such order."
"Yes; everything goes like clockwork, Ben," said Roy, sadly.
"Better, sir; clocks get out of order; garrison like this don't. A man or two may go wrong, but there is always more to take their places. We did our best, and was very proud of it, sir; but it's one thing to have three trained soldiers for your garrison and to make it stronger out of such men as you can get together, and another thing to march in as many as you can make room for, and all well-drilled. There, it's of no use to grumble, sir; we did wonders.—So the general won't let you go and see the fox's hole?"
"Yes, he will, Ben. I have the pass here to present to the officers on duty."
"Why didn't you say so before?" cried Ben, sharply. "Come along, then, sir. I wouldn't go and say anything to them yonder, because they might feel a bit jealous."
Roy nodded, and followed by the old sergeant he walked straight to the guard-room, presented his paper, feeling all the while how strange it was to have to ask permission in his own old home. But he had no time for thought. The officer promptly called out a sergeant, and selected four men, and with them for guard, Roy and Ben led across the court to the entrance of the north-west tower.
Roy felt eager and yet depressed as they passed in, the sergeant leading and going up the spiral stairs to Master Pawson's old room, which was partly dismantled now, and the furniture left just sufficient to provide seats and a table for a dozen men who used it as a second guard-room.
"You don't know the way out and in by this passage, then, sir?" the sergeant said.
"No," replied Roy, who was examining the walls. "I have no idea where it is. Surely it can't be here?"
"Take a look round, sir; perhaps you'll make it out."
Roy did look round—an easy thing to do in a round chamber—but the door, the one large cupboard, the locker in the window, and a broad oaken panel over the mantelpiece were examined and in vain. The last took his attention the most, looking as if it might be a low door-way, and sounding hollow; but he could make nothing of it, and he fell to examining the wainscot in other parts and the floor boards.
"Better give it up, sir," said the sergeant, smiling. "I don't suppose any one would find it out unless it was by accident. Shall I show you now?"
"No," said Roy, who was on his mettle; and he examined the whole place again, beginning with the locker in the window, opening an oaken box-like contrivance in which lay a few of the soldiers' cloaks for which there was no room on the nails and hooks lately driven into the wall.
But after a quarter of an hour's keen search, Roy gave it up.
"I am wasting time," he said.
"Yes, sir," said the sergeant; "but, as children say at play, you were burning more than once."
Roy felt disposed to renew his quest, but he refrained, and the sergeant went to the casement window, and as Roy watched him, opened it till it stood at a certain angle, which allowed him to thrust down a pin and secure it—a simple enough thing to do, and apparently to keep the wind from blowing it to and fro.
"That unlocks the trap-door, sir," said the man. "If you open it more or less, it doesn't act. Look here."
He opened the lid of the locker, and turned a catch over it to keep it from shutting down again, then threw out the cloaks.
"Now pull up that end, sir."
Roy took hold of the panelled oaken side of the locker on his left, and to his astonishment the end of the coffer-like affair glided easily up, bringing with it one end of the oaken bottom; while the other end, turning upon a pivot on the middle, went down, laying open a square shaft going at a slope apparently into the thickness of the wall.
Roy uttered an ejaculation of wonder, while the sergeant struck a light, lit a lantern, got feet first into the locker, and let himself slide; and they saw him descend a dozen feet at an easy slope, stand upright, and hold the light for them to follow and stand by him in a narrow passage with an arched roof.
"Easy enough, when you know how," said the man.
"Ay, easy enough, when you know how," growled Ben, while Roy examined a short, stout ladder hanging from a couple of hooks by the arched ceiling.
"For going back?" he said.
"Yes, sir," was the reply, as the sergeant moved forward a few steps to allow his men to follow, which they did as if quite accustomed to the task.
The narrow passage ended at the top of a spiral staircase just wide enough to allow a man to pass along, and down this he went with a light, the others following, till they had descended to a great depth.
"Hundred steps," growled Ben, as they stood now in a square crypt-like chamber, with a pointed archway in the centre of the wall at one end.
"There you are, sir," said the sergeant, holding up the lantern, "cut right through the stone. It's as dry as tinder, though it does go straight under the moat. Isn't it strange that you didn't know of this?"
"Strange!" cried Ben, taking the answer out of his young master's lips; "why, I didn't know anything about it myself. I mean, where it was."
Roy was silent, for he was thinking of how easily the passage could have been blocked, or a few men have held it against a host.
"Want to go any farther, sir?" asked the sergeant.
"Farther? Yes!" cried Roy, excitedly. "I want to go right to the end."
"Long way, sir, and it's all alike. It comes out in the old ruined place at the top of that little hill."
"Yes, I suppose so," said Roy. "Lead on, please."
The sergeant went forward with the light, and Roy followed, whispering to his companion as they went along.
"Oh, Ben, if we had only found it out!"
"Ay, sir. If we had only found it out; but it wanted a man like Master Pawson."
"Why, Ben," cried Roy, who had a flash of inspiration; "he must have found out about it in one of those old books from the library, one of those which tell about the building of the castle."
"Why, o' course, sir!" growled Ben; "and you, with all those books to look at when you liked, and not find it out yourself."
"And I know the very book," cried Roy, "and have looked at the pictures in it scores of times. But, I remember now, I have not seen it since that wretch has been here."
They had to increase their pace, for the sergeant was striding along over the fairly level floor, which had doubtless been lately cleared, for the lantern showed where portions of the arched roof had shaled off, though much of it was in almost the same condition as when it was laboriously chipped away with the mason's hammers, whose marks were plainly enough to be seen.
"Seen one bit, we've seen all, Master Roy," said Ben at last in a disgusted tone; "but it don't want a trained soldier to take a castle if he's got a way in, made ready for him like this."
But they proceeded, and went right to the end, which was carefully masked in the ruin of the old chapel. But some time before they reached the other opening they were challenged, and Roy felt no surprise on finding a strong body of horse bivouacked in the ancient ruin.
On the way back to the castle Roy gleaned a few facts from the sergeant, which only, however, endorsed those already gathered,—to wit, that the ex-secretary had been holding communications with the enemy for some time before they came to terms, visiting the camp again and again at night, and eluding the vigilance of those who tried to follow him, dodging, as he always did, and then doubling back and reaching the ruins where they were not watched. It was not until General Hepburn had realised that it would be a very long and tedious task to reduce the castle, and only to be achieved at the cost of much bloodshed, that he, after communication with headquarters, came to Pawson's terms, and then the result was immediate.
Roy's first step on returning was to seek Lady Royland and tell her of his visit, at the same time asking her opinion about the book, which she remembered at once.
"Yes," she said, at last; "if ever we find that book again, we shall read the story of our ruin there."
Chapter Thirty Three.
Roy hears the Simple Truth.
A month had passed, and the prisoners knew nothing of what was going on in the outer world. Now and then rumours floated to Roy's ears through different channels of how matters progressed in the country, but they were rumours which, Lady Royland pointed out, could not be trustworthy. One day it would be that the king was carrying everything before him, and that the rebellion was nearly stamped out; while on another they heard that the Parliamentarians held the whole country, and the king hardly had a follower left.
The moat embraced the world of the prisoners during their captivity, and they knew what went on within its enclosure,—little else.
"We must wait patiently, Roy," said Lady Royland.
"Yes, mother," he replied, with a smile full of annoyance; "we must wait, but I can't do it patiently. In the old days I could fish and climb after the jackdaws' nests, and make excursions, and read; but I can't do any of those things now. I only seem able to think about escaping."
"Well, my boy," said Lady Royland, sadly—one day when Roy said this for perhaps the twentieth time, and she looked at him with a pained expression in her eyes—"I know how hard it must be for a young bird to beat its wings, shut in by a cage. Escape, then. You may be able to find your father. But at the least you will be free."
Roy thought of Pawson's words about his father's death, but mentally declared it was a lie like the other assertion, and burst out into a mocking laugh, which made his mother look at him wonderingly.
"Escape?" he said. "I say, mother, do you know I've often thought how easily I could get on to the ramparts, slide down a rope, and swim across the moat."
"Yes, I am sure you could," she said, eagerly, but with the pain in her eyes growing plainer. "Well, it would be bitter for me to part with you, but go."
Roy laughed outright once more.
"Why, you dear, darling, silly old mother!" he cried, flinging his arms about her neck, and kissing her; "just as if I could go away and leave you here. I should look a nice young cavalier when I met my father—shouldn't I?—and he asked where I had left you. No! I'm only grumbling like old Ben does about being shut up, though General Hepburn does treat us very well."
"Yes; no gentleman could behave to us with more consideration, my boy."
"But why doesn't father or the king, or some one of his officers, come and attack this place? All this time gone by, and the general here seems to hold the country for miles round, and all the gentry are friendly to him. Do you know Parson Meldew was here yesterday to see the beast?"
Lady Royland looked at him wonderingly.
"Well, I can't help calling him that. He is a beast, and he lives in a den. No one seems to associate with him. I believe he hates the general, but the general told me one day that Pawson was not good enough to hate."
"Don't mention his name in my presence," said Lady Royland, sternly.
The conversation came to an end, Roy walking off into the court-yard, a garden no longer, to see a squadron of horse drawn up before starting upon some reconnoissance.
They rode out to the sound of the trumpet; and as the horses' hoofs echoed on the lowered bridge, and mingled with their snorting and the jingle of the accoutrements, Roy felt his heart burn within him, and the longing to be free grew almost unbearable.
As the drawbridge was raised again, a grunt behind him made the boy turn sharply, to face the old sergeant, who had come up, his step unheard amidst the tramping of the horses as they passed over the planks.
"Sets one longing, sir, don't it?" said Ben.
"Ay, it does," said Roy, sighing.
"'Tick'larly at your age, sir. Why, I almost wish my wound hadn't got well. It did give me something to think about. If I go on with nothing to do much longer, they'll have to dig a hole to bury me."
"Nonsense, Ben!"
"No, it aren't nonsense, sir; for you see I always was a busy man. Now there's no armour to polish, no guns to look after, no powder-magazine to work at, and no one to drill. I'm just getting rusty, right through to the heart."
"But you've been weak and ill, Ben, and a rest does you good."
"No, it don't, sir. Does t'others good; and thanks to my lady and the doctor, every one's got well 'cept Sam Donny, whose leg is reg'lar twissen up like, and as if it would never come straight again. Seems queer, too, as a wound uppards should affect him so downards."
"Oh, he'll be right when the war's over."
"When it's over, sir? But when will that be?"
"Ah! I don't know, Ben," said Roy, with a sigh. "But there, don't fret. Take it easy for a bit, and grow strong."
"I am strong, sir. Strong as a horse—but do I look like the sort of man to take it easy? I've sat on that bench in the sun warming one side, and turning and warming the other side, till I've felt as if I hated myself. It aren't as if I could read. Begin to wish I could now, not as I ever knowed much good come out o' books."
"Why, Ben!"
"Ah, you may say 'Why, Ben!' sir, but look what books'll bring a man to! Look at that there Fiddler Pawson. Shuts hisself up even now, doing nothing but read, and only comes out o' nights, and goes prowling round the ramparts like an old black tom-cat. You can often hear the sentries challenging him."
"Oh, that's it, is it?" said Roy. "I've heard them challenge some one when I've been watching the stars."
"What business have you watching the stars o' nights, sir?" said Ben, sourly.
"Can't always sleep, Ben, for thinking."
"Humph!" growled the man. "Howsoever, sir, I do live in hopes."
"Yes; so do I."
"Ah, not same as me, sir. I lives in hopes o' one o' the sentries making a mistake some night."
"And shooting him, Ben?"
The sergeant winked, nodded, and rubbed his hands.
"Only wish they'd put me on duty, sir."
"You wouldn't shoot him, Ben, if they did."
"Then I'd save the powder and bullet, sir, and pitch him into the moat, same as the enemy did a lot of our chaps—all them as didn't jump—but they all got safe over, I suppose."
Roy began to walk up and down with his companion, passing the other prisoners from time to time on the wide bench in the corner; while old Jenk sat on the mossy stone steps at the foot of the sun-dial in the middle of the court, one arm nursing his sword upon his knees, the other embracing the lichen-covered pedestal against which he rested his head—no bad representation of old Father Time taking a nap.
"Wish I could sleep like he does," growled Ben. "Nothing to do. Won't let me help any way. Tried to have a go in the armoury, but that sergeant as went through the rat's hole with us grinned at me and turned me out. Pah! I hate him! He's reg'lar took my job out o' my hands."
"Patience, patience, Ben," said Roy.
"Don't believe there's any o' that stuff left in the castle, Master Roy. What do you think they're doing?"
"I don't know. What?"
"Got big stones and mortar down in the hole in three places, ready to build it up. Done it by now, perhaps."
"Sergeant told me. Grinned at me and said they didn't mean to have any one go out that way, nor yet come in at twelve o' clock at night."
"Indeed!" said Roy, to whom this news was troublous, interfering as it did with sundry misty notions in which he had indulged about retaking the castle, or all making their escape.
"Yes, sir; that general aren't a bit of a fool. Wouldn't be at all a bad officer, if he was on the right side. That other chap wouldn't be a bad sort o' sergeant either, if he knowed his duty to his king and country. But there's going to be a fight some day 'twix' him and me."
"Nonsense! While we are prisoners we must behave ourselves, Ben."
"Oh, must we, sir? What call's he got to get grinning at me? I'll make him grin the wrong side of his mouth if he don't look out."
"Yes; you are getting rusty, Ben," said Roy, merrily.
"Then why don't you make some plan, sir?" whispered the old sergeant in an earnest whisper. "Let's make a bold stroke for it, and retake the castle. Think of what your father would say if you did. Why, if the king was to hear of it, he'd be that pleased, he'd send for you to the palace and make a knight of you at once."
"Poor king!" said Roy, sadly. "Perhaps by this time he has no palace to call his own."
"And he won't have, unless some of us shows we've got the right stuff left in us."
At that moment they were passing the sun-dial, and old Jenk started into wakefulness, rose, shaded his eyes, and stared at Roy.
"That you, sir?"
"Yes, Jenk."
"So it be. How are you, Master Roy—how are you? I've been thinking a deal about you, sir. Don't you be downhearted; just wait a bit, and you'll see."
"See—see what, Jenk?"
The old man shook his head and smiled in a cunning fashion.
"You wait, sir, and you'll see," he said; and he sank down again, laid his head against the pedestal, and went off fast asleep.
"Yes, Master Roy, you'll see, and before many months have gone by," said Ben, solemnly. "Poor old Jenk! He's been a fine old soldier, and a true follower of the house of Royland."
"He has, Ben."
"And he's going to be the first prisoner set free."
He gave Roy a meaning look, and they separated, the lad to pass the other prisoners on the bench, and return their salutes as he went on to the private apartments and made his way to his own room, to sit down by the open window to try to think out some way of ending their captivity by turning the tables on the enemy.
The day was warm, the thinking hard, and at last his brain refused to work any longer at the task of trying to do an impossible thing, the result being that Roy suddenly opened his eyes after dreaming that some people were talking angrily in his room while he slept.
But as he lay back, staring, and seeing that the room was empty, a familiar and very stern voice came in through the window with these words, uttered in a perfectly unimpassioned voice, but one which suggested that against it there was no appeal:
"I have listened to all you had to say, Master Pawson, and all your complaints. Now, hear me: and you had better take my advice, with which I shall conclude. In the first place, in accordance with my instructions, I concluded that iniquitous bargain with you."
"Iniquitous, sir?" cried Pawson, in his highly-pitched voice, which now sounded quite a squeak.
"Yes, iniquitous. What else do you call it to sell your honour for the sake of gain? Iniquitous, treacherous; it is all that, but war made it a stern necessity that we should listen to your proposals. You kept to your terms; the new government will keep to its bargain. You will retain the castle and estate, but there was no question of time. I shall hold this place as a centre as long as we find it necessary. You can stay here or go till we have left. If you stay, take the advice I gave you. Go to your room, and stay there always, save when, like some unclean beast of prey, you come out to prowl at night. For, though your life is safe, I tell you that there is not a soldier in my force who does not look upon you with contempt. In future, sir, if you wish to make any communication to me, be good enough to write."
Roy would have shrunk away, so as not to listen, but these words filled the room in the silence of that afternoon, and the general's retiring steps were plainly heard, followed by a low hissing sound, as of some one expiring his pent-up breath.
Then a soft, cat-like step was heard, and Roy said to himself—
"It seems as if Master Pawson's punishment has begun."


Deep rumbling noise with high pitched hum, generated by a loud computer fan.
One-shot sample of a sci-fi machine ringing. Designed in Logic Pro.
sound produced when opening the tray of the photocopier, where is situated the paper to be copied.
Some wind chimes of my neighbors that I recorded.


Fast-food chain Sonic is primarily a southern institution, but it's not planning to stay geographically limited for long. Sonic's working to bring its cheeseburgers, tater tots and roller-skating carhops to the Northeast and the West, identifying places to open new restaurants and studying predicted sales trends.
Fast-food chain Sonic is primarily a southern institution, but it's not planning to stay geographically limited for long. Sonic's working to bring more of its cheeseburgers, tater tots and roller-skating carhops to the Northeast and the West, identifying places to open new restaurants and studying predicted sales trends.
Chain restaurants have been doing this kind of work for decades – the margins in the industry can be fine, so big chains work hard to minimize the risks involved in any investment they make in new locations. In the past, according to Sonic Geographic Information Systems (GIS) analyst Bradford Zygmontowicz, that meant boots on the ground.
Companies would scout trade areas, seeing which competitors were present, how far they were from major intersections, what kinds of foot and car traffic there was, and so on. Information had to be collected and collated more or less manually.
Today, rather than an army of analysts, a combination of free government data, paid market research and heavy automation means that Sonic can do a great deal of the intelligence work on sales and expansion plans with just a few experts working at their computers.
"That just streamlines work, that allows our guys out in the field to be able to really focus on finding new locations, working with brokers, meeting new franchisees and signing deals, rather than the tedious task of carving out a trade area and doing market analysis that could take a week," he said.
Zygmontowicz detailed some of the setup that Sonic uses for its analytical operations. The first part is a mapping and visualization solution called Sitewise, made by market analysis service provider Tetrad, which also operates Sonic's private cloud.
"That really helps our team out in the field, because they could be driving along with a franchisee and have their iPad up," he noted.
The second major piece is a sales forecasting model provided by business intelligence consultant Intellytics, which integrates with Sitewise to provide richer data for any given geographic location, according to Zygmontowicz. Finally, the company uses a data blending and analytics service called Alteryx to incorporate information from many sources and serve as a hub for Sonic's big data.
Sonic has more than 3,500 restaurants in the U.S., located in 45 states, and both of those numbers seem likely to climb in the near future.


During my time as a Nashville Fellow I have learned a lot of lessons that I never expected to learn. One of these lessons has proved to be very valuable as the year has progressed. Through various trials and encounters with pain, I found myself questioning God. I questioned whether he was as powerful as everybody said. I questioned whether he cared about the things I was experiencing. I even questioned whether he is a good God at all. Things were not easy, and I thought that God had just abandoned me or turned a blind eye. I learned, rather quickly, that he had done the exact opposite. Instead of turning his back on me and allowing me to fester in my own emotions and self-destruction, he patiently stood by me even amid my angry ignorance. I started to notice the support system he had given me. His word eventually started to become more precious to me, and I soon learned that instead of growing distant from me in my anger, God was graciously embracing me, demonstrating his love as Abba Father by assuring me that he could handle my questions. My bitterness eventually evolved into a prayer for assurance of the promise he had given me in James 4:8, that if I would draw near to him, he would draw near to me. And he did. He demonstrated that he is indeed Jehovah Shalom and Jehovah Rapha. He is Yahweh, ever deserving of my praise, even when I don't understand him. Nay, especially when I don't understand him. Praise be to Christ.
Obviously, this was a lesson that I needed to be taught, and prayerfully I will continue to meditate on his promises in my heart and be sanctified by the Holy Spirit to grow firm in the truth. I learned quickly that the Lord had not taught me this lesson so that I would simply allow it to affect my heart alone. God, in his sovereignty, crossed my path with that of a student in pain. To preserve your time and his anonymity, I will spare the details, but this became the most precious moment I have had as a Fellow. The student, having experienced immense tragedy, would rarely engage with leaders in a serious manner and never shared his emotions about the event that had changed his life forever. Then, one night, almost out of the blue, he shared that he wanted to trust God, but he just couldn't because he was mad at God. He couldn't understand why God in all of his "might" would not intervene to alter the circumstances he had endured. He was struggling to believe that God was in fact a good, loving Father. I did not blame him for these questions. In fact, it had not been long since I had asked similar questions. I was given the opportunity to embrace this young man and assure him that God could handle his questions and God could handle his anger. God invites us to draw near to him with our questions and allow him to reveal his character to us. He is surely a good Father even when we do not comprehend the depths of his thoughts.
I pray that this will not be lost on us. God does not expect us to fully understand, instead he wants to show us more of his heart so that we may run to him in reliance for nourishment and strength. It is in our weakness that his power is made perfect. He is El Shaddai, God Almighty. He wants to show us that he is our God and we are his people. What a sweet assurance to be called a child of the One True King, our loving Father. Praise be to him forever and ever. Amen.


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text:
Reflective Melo Sees Need For Change
Posted by Philip Rossman-Reich on Jan 23, 2012 14:00
For NBA fans, Carmelo Anthony has been an enigma.
On one hand, he is one of the most dominant and purest scorers in the league. His strength in the post against other small forwards makes him difficult to guard. His speed and outside shooting ability make him impossible to guard.
He developed into a pure scorer in Denver out of sheer necessity as he never played with another dominating players — except a past-his-prime Allen Iverson. Even at Syracuse, Anthony was given full reigns of the offense. In other words, defense was never a big buzz word in Anthony's vocabulary.
That has been the biggest knock on Anthony throughout his career. He can score with the best players in the league, but he had fell woefully short of his potential. This was the guy who came into the league with LeBron James and Dwyane Wade. They were the three golden children of the 2003 Draft. While Wade and James have competed for championships for the majority of their careers — one title and four Finals appearances between them — Anthony has been left behind. He has reached the Western Conference Finals once and then saw his team fade to oblivion.
The criticism on Anthony only heightened as he forced his way to New York to play with Amar'e Stoudemire. That move has not seen Anthony find success. Instead, it has left Anthony facing louder and louder criticism as the Knicks fall further and further out of the playoff picture.
After losing to the Nuggets at Madison Square Garden in double overtime Saturday, Anthony reflected on what more he can do in a rare moment of reflection for the offensive-minded All-Star forward. The Knicks were, as Frank Isola of the New York Daily News writes, "punked" for the second straight game. And Anthony, who scored 25 points on 10-for-30 shooting, reflected on his role and the player he has become.
"There is a bunch of stuff that goes through my mind. What am I doing? What am I not doing? I have been in this situation before when shots don't go in. Should I pass it more? I am sitting there thinking. Maybe I should take the blame for the games we are losing … our offensive struggles. I will take it."
Anthony's ball-stopping ways and penchant for mid-range jumpers have long been suspects in his team's mediocre offensive performances. Anthony's per-game numbers suggest he is one of the best players in the league. He is averaging 25.7 points per game, 6.8 rebounds per game and a career-high 4.2 assists per game for the Knicks this year. All of those numbers are in line with his career averages.
All of those numbers should put him among the NBA's elite.
Yet, Anthony does not hold up as well when you look at advanced stats and try to get behind the numbers. Unfortunately 30 field goal attempts are not too rare of an occurrence considering how much Anthony shoots. Anthony is averaging 21.3 field goal attempts per game. His usage rate is up to a career-high 35.5 percent and he has a career 31.3 percent usage rate. Many possessions end up with Anthony shooting it or turning it over.
When it comes strictly to his scoring, Anthony does a poor job getting to the line. He averages about eight attempts per game. He is not a foul-drawer, he is just a shooter.
Further complicating any analysis of Anthony, is where he takes his shots. He seems either to get his shots at the rim (5.3 attempts per game this year according to HoopData) or in the most inefficient area of the floor — 16-23 feet (6.4 attempts per game this year according to HoopData). Worse, on those shots from 16-23 feet, where on average Anthony takes more shots than anywhere else on the floor, he hits only 35 percent and is assisted on only 29 percent of those attempts.
It suggests Anthony settles for these long 2-point shots rather than using that stunning array of offensive ability we know he has.
When it comes to critics, these points are made against Anthony. It does not come out of hate, but more disappointment that Anthony is not all that he could be considering the talent and ability he has. That seems to be all fans and critics want from him.
Anthony now is seeing some of his best offensive games and his efforts going to waste on a team built around him and Stoudemire. The Knicks are coming to the realization that the team has been worse since the Anthony trade last February. And that is not a good thing for a team desperate for attention.
It might be asking too much to ask Anthony to change his game. After nine seasons in the league, it is going to take a lot to change his high-scoring, somewhat inefficient habits. That will not happen in one outing or with one break, waiting for Anthony's injured wrist and ankle to fully heal.
As the losses pile up and Anthony comes to realize that life in the Big Apple is not as good as it appeared when he was in Denver, maybe that will create the change everyone wants to see in Anthony so he can reach his full potential.
Acknowledging the problem is the first step to correcting it. Maybe Anthony has reached that point in his career.
About Philip Rossman-Reich
Philip Rossman-Reich is the managing editor for Crossover Chronicles and Orlando Magic Daily. You can follow him on twitter @OMagicDaily
View all posts by Philip Rossman-Reich →


We are constantly suggesting the best meals to eat and the ones to ignore for diabetics as well as suggesting low calorie food options. You can find selected restaurants offering diabetic meals as well as low calorie diet food options. if you are concerned about foods with high sugar or high cholesterol levels. You can also find instructions on picking the right food from the menus while looking for the best restaurants in Roscommon, MI.
Why I like Jack's Place Roscommon Over 30 years in business. Ice cold beer on tap & Great bar food Best burgers in Roscommon County Generous portions on all food items large and small pulled pork sandwiches Your Choice small order of french fries or A large basket of french fries Just $3.99 . Great selection of appetizers My favorite mini tacos served 12 in a basket with sour cream and salsa. Every Friday Fresh flown in weekly Alaska all you can eat Cod dinner. There Pizza is fantastic made in the real fire brick oven during the winter Pizza served 5 PM to 10 PM Closed Tuesday. They close early when slow in winter. Free WIFI, Big screen tv's. Great pool table with new felt Large parking lot. There new winter hours !!! open Monday 4 PM till Midnight CLOSED Tuesday, Open Wednesday and Thursday Noon till Midnight, Open Noon till 2 AM on Friday and Saturday, Open Sunday noon to midnight, During the winter if it's slow we close early. Please call 989-275-4218 for further information on premise and off premise catering.
Got to say great job keeping the quality and value along with the great service going! Another stellar fish dinner today!
We tried the "Prime Rib" dinner tonight and it was excellent! We were totally impressed with our meal. Alan and Sarah have out done themselves again. Outstanding! Come over to Rosco's on Saturday for a wonderful meal. You will love it.
We ate here on our return from the northern LP based on the single review that existed on yelp at the time. This is a well worn little breakfast diner with decent food, big portions and great service. Everything on the menu is under 10 bucks, including the steak and eggs.
Has been here for years and is very popular. Great food!
Yum. We're visiting from up north. I was expecting typical family restaurant stuff where everything tastes the same. I had the mushroom soup--awesome. Calzone--awesome. I'd actually drive from where I live to come here again it was that good.
Great food great friendly service! All you can eat fish on Friday is a hit and the prime rib can be cut with a butter knife. Make sure to ask for bread so you can try cherry butter. Good selection of beers.
Friendly service. Good quality on the food with large portion sizes. Decent selection. All four of us enjoyed our meals, and I'll definitely return again. Recommended.
My husband and I had heard great things about Matt's so we decided to try it. Matt's did not disappoint! We were so impressed with the food and by how big their menu was. We had the breakfast buffet. Other reviews say they have an omelette/crepe station, this is no longer the case. However, the menu has so many great things that it would be difficult not to find something. We will be stopping in again for sure.
We came in on a Wednesday around 3:00. The place was practically empty. Maybe four people at the bar. I ordered the Cowboy Burger and my girlfriend ordered 12 boneless wings. The wait was fairly short, probably because nobody else in the place was ordering food. The food was good. The burger was very large and very good. The boneless wings were good as well. The next time we are up camping again, we will be sure to stop in.
Huge burger. Price not bad either. Service was good but not overly friendly. Bill was 45$ gave her $50 bill. She kept the change without asking. Would have gladly given her 20% tip. Btw I did leave extra on the table.
There was an earwig in my husbands drink. Completly disgusted. Assuming it came out of his straw since it ended up in his mouth! The straws are black and not wrapped. Loved going here...but never again after today! Ugh. My stomach is still turning.
We tried this place for my birthday. The appetizer of Brie was ok. The dinner salad was mostly iceberg and the dinner rolls looked like they were from Gordon Foods. The main courses were ok the walleye was nice. The salmon came covered with too much grainy mustard. There were no house made desserts. The wine list was limited. Not a good value. The wait staff tried hard.


The Women's National Book Association (WNBA) hosted The Afghan Women's Writing Project (AWWP) last Saturday afternoon at the Temescal Branch Library in Oakland. A small, but enthusiastic group attended. The AWWP was founded in 2009 by American author and journalist, Marsha Hamilton. The project provides women writers in Afghanistan to join together in secure, online workshops and are mentored by American professional writers and educators. A curriculum for personal exploration and reflection on the themes of love and forgiveness was designed to assist groups and individuals to explore their personal relationships through writing.
Remember what Malala said about Education for every child?


Sprinkle a little of this mushroom powder on just about anything for instant umami. We think of it as magic powder, because it has all the earthy power of porcini mushrooms. It can be used in spice rubs, dredges, sautés, creamy dips, sauces and anywhere you want a little oomph. And it's available year-round, which fresh porcinis certainly are not.
Any mixture of spices can use a bit of porcini powder, whether destined to be rubbed on a turkey, beef, lamb or game bird. Soups, creamy or brothy, as well as stews, can benefit from a soupçon of this precious porcini powder.


text:
Japanese Companies Enter Market for Home Cogeneration
The popularity of co-generation systems is increasing in Japan, with different types of home based Micro Combined Heat & Power (MCHP) systems being sold or expected on the market soon.
TOKYO, Japan, JP, 2001-12-21 [SolarAccess.com] "There is strong demand for saving energy, and we believe there is high potential for cogeneration to spread into households," says Yoshitaka Kayahara of residential cogen development with Osaka Gas. "Considering the need to reduce the amount of carbon dioxide emissions to prevent the greenhouse effect from escalating, there is a necessity to introduce cogeneration." In October, the company began testing the market for home-use cogeneration systems by adopting Honda Motor's 1 kW gas engine. The system can provide most of the heat, as well as 40 percent of total electricity needed by an average household. The system can save 30,000 to 40,000 yen a year in lighting and heating costs. After testing the new system at 100 homes, the company will sell the compact generator for 700,000 yen. IBF of Tokyo, has introduced a residential cogeneration system that uses a Stirling engine, operating on external combustion which runs pistons powered by contained, heated gas. The Stirling engine is manufactured by Whisper Tech of New Zealand, and provides an advantage over internal-combustion engines because it can use any type of fuel to heat the gas in the cylinder, even sunlight. "Because it can use anything as the fuel to run the system, we think Stirling engine cogeneration has huge potential," say officials. The system, which can generate 0.75 kW, went on sale this year for 3.5 million yen and IBF has sold 14 units to homes and dormitories in ten months. The WhisperGen system has been sized to meet the heating requirements of a typical home in western Europe, and to match the electrical generation with the home's requirements, to keep power available for export to the grid to a minimum level. If the utility refuses to accept the distributed generation for any reason, or will not pay an acceptable price, the unit can be used in the home for heating water via an immersion heater. Currently, the AC WhisperGen is designed to continually monitor for the presence of the grid. If the grid drops out of certain ranges in voltage or frequency, the system automatically shuts down to ensure that it does not export into a failed grid. Most Japanese companies developing home-use cogen systems are focusing on natural gas fuel cells. Home appliance makers, including Matsushita, Toshiba, Sanyo and Toyota, are developing fuel-cell cogen systems for residential applications, and many expect to have 1 kW systems by 2004 or 2005. Osaka Gas is developing a fuel-cell cogen system, and Kayahara says gas cogen systems provide more heat than electricity, while fuel-cell cogen systems provide the opposite; more electricity than heat. "We believe that there will be demands for both gas and fuel-cell engines, because the use of energy will vary depending on customers' lifestyles, as well as where they live," he says. Osaka Gas aims to release its residential fuel-cell cogen system in 2005, at a price of 600,000 yen. The companies are trying to reduce initial costs of systems but they share a belief that, once residential cogeneration systems become accepted, mass production will allow costs to drop.
San Diego Zoo and EDF launch battery storage solution


Constructing a home is certainly a complicated process. One actually needs to know every little thing about designing a property. Oppidan Homes is one of the renowned platforms, offering home construction services all around Australia. Numerous well established buildings in New South Wales, Australia speak of the success of the organisation. Be it colour consultants, interior designers, town planners or the landscapers in Australia, the company has experts of the entire field. Additionally, the positive reviews of the users reveal how best the firm is.


New instrumental project from Tommy V, out January 8 on cassette from FilthyBroke Recordings and digitally through Fake Four Inc.
New BSBD album out now featuring Child Actor, Lotte Kestner, and JMSN.
From Ceschi's upcoming album Forgotten Forever. Produced by Child Actor.