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+<?xml version="1.0"?>
+<!DOCTYPE TEI.2 SYSTEM "teixlite.dtd">
+<TEI.2>
+ <teiHeader>
+ <fileDesc>
+ <titleStmt>
+ <title>This and that</title>
+ </titleStmt>
+ <publicationStmt>
+ <p> </p>
+ </publicationStmt>
+ <sourceDesc>
+ <p></p>
+ </sourceDesc>
+ </fileDesc>
+ <revisionDesc>
+ <list>
+ <item><date>October 10th 1999</date>Initial version</item>
+ </list>
+ </revisionDesc>
+ </teiHeader>
+ <text>
+<front>
+ <docTitle>
+ <titlePart type="main">Texts for beginners</titlePart>
+ </docTitle>
+<docAuthor>A N Other</docAuthor>
+<docDate>October 10th 1999</docDate>
+</front>
+<body>
+
+<div><head>The table in section 1</head>
+<p>
+Over the whine of the electric mixer, Mara heard her name called, but she
+didn't bother to acknowledge it. Instead she added more sugar to the egg
+whites and continued to beat them until they formed stiff peaks. She was
+spooning the meringue on to the pie filling when she heard the hum of the
+wheelchair approaching the kitchen.
+</p><p>
+`Mara, the mailman just drove by.' The chair rolled to a stop inside the
+room. `I'm expecting some correspondence from Fitzgerald. Will you see if
+it's come?'
+</p><p>
+Mara didn't turn around. I'm busy at the moment, Adam.' She continued to
+spread the meringue thickly over the pie, ignoring the instant of tense
+silence.
+</p>
+<div><head>The table in section 1</head>
+<q rend="display">
+<table cols="3" rend="inline">
+<row><cell cols="3">AT&amp;T Common Stock</cell></row>
+<row><cell>Year </cell><cell> Price</cell><cell>Dividend</cell></row>
+<row><cell>1971</cell><cell>41--54</cell><cell>$2.60</cell></row>
+<row><cell> 2</cell><cell>41--54</cell><cell>2.70</cell></row>
+<row><cell> 3</cell><cell>46--55</cell><cell>2.87</cell></row>
+<row><cell> 4</cell><cell>40--53</cell><cell>3.24</cell></row>
+<row><cell> 5</cell><cell>45--52</cell><cell>3.40</cell></row>
+<row><cell> 6</cell><cell>51--59</cell><cell>.95*</cell></row>
+<row><cell cols="3">(* first quarter only)</cell></row>
+</table>
+</q>
+
+<eg>
+<![CDATA[
+<xsl:template match="eg">
+ <fo:block font-family="{$typewriterFont}"
+ white-space-collapse="false"
+ wrap-option="no-wrap"
+ text-indent="0em"
+ start-indent="{$exampleMargin}"
+ text-align="start"
+ font-size="{$exampleSize}"
+ background="red"
+ color="white"
+ space-before.optimum="4pt"
+ space-after.optimum="4pt"
+ >
+ <xsl:value-of select="translate(.,' ','&#160;')"/>
+ </fo:block>
+</xsl:template>
+]]>
+</eg>
+</div>
+</div>
+<div><head>LOOMINGS</head>
+
+<p>Call me Ishmael. Some years ago&#8212;never mind how long
+precisely &#8212;having little or no money in my purse, and nothing
+particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a
+little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of
+driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever I
+find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp,
+drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily
+pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every
+funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper
+hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me
+from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking
+people's hats off&#8212;then, I account it high time to get to sea as
+soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a
+philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly
+take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but
+knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish
+very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me. There now is
+your insular city of the Manhattoes, belted round by wharves as Indian
+isles by coral reefs&#8212;commerce surrounds it with her surf. Right
+and left, the streets take you waterward. Its extreme down-town is
+the battery, where that noble mole is washed by waves, and cooled by
+breezes, which a few hours previous were out of sight of land. Look
+at the crowds of water-gazers there. Circumambulate the city of a
+dreamy Sabbath afternoon. Go from Corlears Hook to Coenties Slip, and
+from thence, by Whitehall northward. What do you see?&#8212;Posted
+like silent sentinels all around the town, stand thousands upon
+thousands of mortal men fixed in ocean reveries. Some leaning against
+the spiles; some seated upon the pier-heads; some looking over the
+bulwarks glasses! of ships from China; some high aloft in the
+rigging, as if striving to get a still better seaward peep. But these
+are all landsmen; of week days pent up in lath and plaster&#8212;tied
+to counters, nailed to benches, clinched to desks. How then is this?
+Are the green fields gone? What do they here? But look! here come
+more crowds, pacing straight for the water, and seemingly bound for a
+dive. Strange! Nothing will content them but the extremest limit of
+the land; loitering under the shady lee of yonder warehouses will not
+suffice. No. They must get just as nigh the water as they possibly
+can without falling in. And there they stand&#8212;miles of
+them&#8212;leagues. </p>
+
+<p> Inlanders all, they come from lanes and alleys, streets and
+avenues, &#8212;north, east, south, and west. Yet here they all
+unite. Tell me, does the magnetic virtue of the needles of the
+compasses of all those ships attract them thither? Once more. Say,
+you are in the country; in some high land of lakes. Take almost any
+path you please, and ten to one it carries you down in a dale, and
+leaves you there by a pool in the stream. There is magic in it. Let
+the most absent-minded of men be plunged in his deepest
+reveries&#8212;stand that man on his legs, set his feet a-going, and
+he will infallibly lead you to water, if water there be in all that
+region. Should you ever be athirst in the great American desert, try
+this experiment, if your caravan happen to be supplied with a
+metaphysical professor. Yes, as every one knows, meditation and water
+are wedded for ever.
+ But here is an artist. He desires to paint you the dreamiest,
+shadiest, quietest, most enchanting bit of romantic landscape in all
+the valley of the Saco. What is the chief element he employs? There
+stand his trees, each with a hollow trunk, as if a hermit and a
+crucifix were within; and here sleeps his meadow, and there sleep his
+cattle; and up from yonder cottage goes a sleepy smoke. Deep into
+distant woodlands winds a mazy way, reaching to overlapping spurs of
+mountains bathed in their hill-side blue. But though the picture lies
+thus tranced, and though this pine-tree shakes down its sighs like
+leaves upon this shepherd's head, yet all were vain, unless the
+shepherd's eye were fixed upon the magic stream before him. Go visit
+the Prairies in June, when for scores on scores of miles you wade
+knee-deep among Tiger-lilies&#8212;what is the one charm wanting?
+&#8212;Water &#8212;there is not a drop of water there! Were Niagara
+but a cataract of sand, would you travel your thousand miles to see
+it? Why did the poor poet of Tennessee, upon suddenly receiving two
+handfuls of silver, deliberate whether to buy him a coat, which he
+sadly needed, or invest his money in a pedestrian trip to Rockaway
+Beach? Why is almost every robust healthy boy with a robust healthy
+soul in him, at some time or other crazy to go to sea? Why upon your
+first voyage as a passenger, did you yourself feel such a mystical
+vibration, when first told that you and your ship were now out of
+sight of land? Why did the old Persians hold the sea holy? Why did
+the Greeks give it a separate deity, and own brother of Jove? Surely
+all this is not without meaning. And still deeper the meaning of that
+story of Narcissus, who because he could not grasp the tormenting,
+mild image he saw in the fountain, plunged into it and was drowned.
+But that same image, we ourselves see in all rivers and oceans. It is
+the image of the ungraspable phantom of life; and this is the key to
+it all. Now, when I say that I am in the habit of going to sea
+whenever I begin to grow hazy about the eyes, and begin to be over
+conscious of my lungs, I do not mean to have it inferred that I ever
+go to sea as a passenger. For to go as a passenger you must needs
+have a purse, and a purse is but a rag unless you have something in
+it. Besides, passengers get sea-sick &#8212;grow quarrelsome
+&#8212;don't sleep of nights &#8212;do not enjoy themselves much, as a
+general thing; &#8212;no, I never go as a passenger; nor, though I am
+something of a salt, do I ever go to sea as a Commodore, or a Captain,
+or a Cook. I abandon the glory and distinction of such offices to
+those who like them. For my part, I abominate all honorable
+respectable toils, trials, and tribulations of every kind whatsoever.
+It is quite as much as I can do to take care of myself, without taking
+care of ships, barques, brigs, schooners, and what not. And as for
+going as cook, &#8212; though I confess there is considerable glory in
+that, a cook being a sort of officer on ship-board &#8212;yet,
+somehow, I never fancied broiling fowls; &#8212;though once broiled,
+judiciously buttered, and judgmatically salted and peppered, there is
+no one who will speak more respectfully, not to say reverentially, of
+a broiled fowl than I will. It is out of the idolatrous dotings of
+the old Egyptians upon broiled ibis and roasted river horse, that you
+see the mummies of those creatures in their huge bake-houses the
+pyramids. No, when I go to sea, I go as a simple sailor, right before
+the mast, plumb down into the forecastle, aloft there to the royal
+mast-head. True, they rather order me about some, and make me jump
+from spar to spar, like a grasshopper in a May meadow. And at first,
+this sort of thing is unpleasant enough. It touches one's sense of
+honor, particularly if you come of an old established family in the
+land, the van Rensselaers, or Randolphs, or Hardicanutes. And more
+than all, if just previous to putting your hand into the tar-pot, you
+have been lording it as a country schoolmaster, making the tallest
+boys stand in awe of you. The transition is a keen one, I assure you,
+from the schoolmaster to a sailor, and requires a strong decoction of
+Seneca and the Stoics to enable you to grin and bear it. But even
+this wears off in time. What of it, if some old hunks of a
+sea-captain orders me to get a broom and sweep down the decks? What
+does that indignity amount to, weighed, I mean, in the scales of the
+New Testament? Do you think the archangel Gabriel thinks anything the
+less of me,
+ because I promptly and respectfully obey that old hunks in that
+particular instance? Who aint a slave? Tell me that. Well, then,
+however the old sea-captains may order me about&#8212;however they may
+thump and punch me about, I have the satisfaction of knowing that it
+is all right; that everybody else is one way or other served in much
+the same way &#8212; either in a physical or metaphysical point of
+view, that is; and so the universal thump is passed round, and all
+hands should rub each other's shoulder-blades, and be content. Again,
+I always go to sea as a sailor, because they make a point of paying me
+for my trouble, whereas they never pay passengers a single penny that
+I ever heard of. On the contrary, passengers themselves must pay.
+And there is all the difference in the world between paying and being
+paid. The act of paying is perhaps the most uncomfortable infliction
+that the two orchard thieves entailed upon us. But being paid,
+&#8212;what will compare with it? The urbane activity with which a
+man receives money is really marvellous, considering that we so
+earnestly believe money to be the root of all earthly ills, and that
+on no account can a monied man enter heaven. Ah! how cheerfully we
+consign ourselves to perdition! Finally, I always go to sea as a
+sailor, because of the wholesome exercise and pure air of the
+forecastle deck. For as in this world, head winds are far more
+prevalent than winds from astern (that is, if you never violate the
+Pythagorean maxim), so for the most part the Commodore on the
+quarter-deck gets his atmosphere at second hand from the sailors on
+the forecastle. He thinks he breathes it first; but not so. In much
+the same way do the commonalty lead their leaders in many other
+things, at the same time that the leaders little suspect it. But
+wherefore it was that after having repeatedly smelt the sea as a
+merchant sailor, I should now take it into my head to go on a whaling
+voyage; this the invisible police officer of the Fates, who has the
+constant surveillance of me, and secretly dogs me, and influences me
+in some unaccountable way &#8212;he can better answer than any one
+else. And, doubtless, my going on this whaling
+ voyage, formed part of the grand programme of Providence that was drawn up a
+long time ago. It came in as a sort of brief interlude and solo between more
+extensive performances. I take it that this part of the bill must have run
+something like this:
+<list>
+<item>Grand Contested Election for the Presidency of the
+United States. </item>
+<item>Whaling Voyage by one Ishmael. </item>
+<item>Bloody Battle in Affghanistan.</item>
+</list>Though I cannot tell why it was exactly that those stage
+managers, the Fates, put me down for this shabby part of a whaling voyage,
+when others were set down for magnificent parts in high tragedies, and short
+and easy parts in genteel comedies, and jolly parts in farces &#8212;though I
+cannot tell why this was exactly; yet, now that I recall all the
+circumstances, I think I can see a little into the springs and motives which
+being cunningly presented to me under various disguises, induced me to set
+about
+performing the part I did, besides cajoling me into the delusion that it was
+a choice resulting from my own unbiased freewill and discriminating judgment.
+chief among these motives was the overwhelming idea of the great whale
+himself. Such a portentous and mysterious monster roused all my curiosity.
+Then the wild and distant seas where he rolled his island bulk; the
+undeliverable, nameless perils of the whale; these, with all the attending
+marvels of a thousand Patagonian sights and sounds, helped to sway me to my
+wish. With other men, perhaps, such things would not have been inducements;
+but as for me, I am tormented with an everlasting itch for things remote. I
+love to sail forbidden seas, and land on barbarous coasts. Not ignoring what
+is good, I am quick to perceive a horror, and could still be social with
+it&#8212;would they let me &#8212;since it is but well to be on friendly terms with all
+the inmates of the place one lodges in. By reason of these things, then, the
+whaling voyage was welcome; the great flood-gates of the wonder-world swung
+open, and in the wild conceits that swayed me to my purpose, two and two
+there floated into my inmost soul, endless processions of the whale, and, mid
+most of them all, one grand hooded phantom, like a snow hill in the air.
+</p>
+</div>
+</body>
+</text>
+</TEI.2>