...This is CS50. Harvard College Fall 2010 Problem Set 3: The Game of Fifteen due by 7:00pm on Fri 10/1 Per the directions at this document’s end, submitting this problem set involves submitting source code on cloud.cs50.net as well as filling out a Web-‐based form (the latter of which will be available after lecture on Wed 9/29), which may take a few minutes, so best not to wait until the very last minute, lest you spend a late day unnecessarily. Be sure that your code is thoroughly commented to such an extent that lines’ functionality is apparent from comments alone. Goals. • Introduce you to larger programs and programs with multiple source files. • Empower you with Makefiles. • Implement a party favor. Recommended Reading. • Section 17 of http://www.howstuffworks.com/c.htm. • Chapters 20 and 23 of Absolute Beginner’s Guide...
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...was as invisible to him as the few scattered tables that completed the furnishings. Even the white-cloaked man kneeling with barely restrained eagerness on the great sunburst set in the wide planks of the floor had vanished from Niall's mind for the moment, though few would have dismissed him so lightly. Jaret Byar had been given time to wash before being brought to Niall, but both his helmet and his breastplate were dulled from travel and battered from use. Dark, deep-set eyes shone with a feverish, urgent light in a face that seemed to have had every spare scrap of flesh boiled away. He wore no sword - none was allowed in Niall's presence - but he seemed poised on the edge of violence, like a hound awaiting the loosing of the leash. Twin fires on long hearths at either end of the room held off the late winter cold. It was a plain, soldier's room, really, everything well made but nothing extravagant except for the sunburst. Furnishings came to the audience chamber of the Lord Captain Commander of the Children of the Light with the man who rose to the office; the flaring sun of coin gold had been worn smooth by generations of petitioners, replaced and worn smooth again. Gold enough to buy any estate in Amadicia, and the patent of nobility to go with it. For ten years Niall had walked across that gold and never thought of it twice, any more than he thought of the sunburst embroidered across the chest of his white tunic. Gold held little interest for...
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...qwertyuiopasdfghjklzxcvbnmqwertyui opasdfghjklzxcvbnmqwertyuiopasdfgh jklzxcvbnmqwertyuiopasdfghjklzxcvb nmqwertyuiopasdfghjklzxcvbnmqwer Fruit Batteries Science Fair Project tyuiopasdfghjklzxcvbnmqwertyuiopas Project Guidebook dfghjklzxcvbnmqwertyuiopasdfghjklzx cvbnmqwertyuiopasdfghjklzxcvbnmq wertyuiopasdfghjklzxcvbnmqwertyuio pasdfghjklzxcvbnmqwertyuiopasdfghj klzxcvbnmqwertyuiopasdfghjklzxcvbn mqwertyuiopasdfghjklzxcvbnmqwerty uiopasdfghjklzxcvbnmqwertyuiopasdf ghjklzxcvbnmqwertyuiopasdfghjklzxc vbnmqwertyuiopasdfghjklzxcvbnmrty uiopasdfghjklzxcvbnmqwertyuiopasdf ghjklzxcvbnmqwertyuiopasdfghjklzxc © 2009 Supercharged Science By Aurora Lipper © 2009 Supercharged Science www.AwesomeScienceProjects.com Page 1 Table of Contents Table of Contents ........................................................................................................................2 How to Use This Book: ................................................................................................................3 Materials List...............................................................................................................................5 Create a Science Fair Project with Fruit & Veggies .......................................................................6 Sample Data Sheet ....................................................................................................................10 Sample Report ................................................................
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...Tablet I Summary The story begins with a prologue introducing us to the main character, Gilgamesh, the Priest-King of Uruk. Gilgamesh’s mother is Ninsun, sometimes referred to as the Lady Wildcow Ninsun. She was a goddess, endowing Gilgamesh with a semi-divine nature. Lugulbanda, a priest, was his father. Gilgamesh constructed the great city of Uruk along the Euphrates River in Mesopotamia, and surrounded it intricately decorated walls. He also built a temple for the goddess Ishtar, the goddess of love, and her fatherAnu, the father of the gods. Gilgamesh is credited with opening passages through the mountains. He traveled to the Nether World and beyond it, where he met Utnapishtim, the sole survivor of the great flood that almost ended the world, the one who had been given immortality. When he returned to Uruk, he wrote everything down on a tablet of lapis lazuli and locked it in a copper chest. As the story begins, Gilgamesh is a tyrannical leader who shows little regard for his people. He takes what he wants from them and works them to death constructing the walls of Uruk. He sleeps with brides on their wedding night, before their husbands. It is said that no one can resist his power. The old men of Uruk complain and appeal to the gods for help. The gods hear their cries and instruct Aruru, the goddess of creation, to make someone strong enough to act as a counterforce to Gilgamesh. Aruru takes some clay, moistens it with her spit, and forms another man, namedEnkidu. Enkidu...
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...A Tale of Three Lions Haggard, Henry Rider Published: 1887 Type(s): Short Fiction, Adventure Source: http://www.gutenberg.org 1 About Haggard: Henry Rider Haggard was born at Bradenham, Norfolk, to Sir William Meybohm Rider Haggard, a barrister, and Ella Doveton, an author and poet. He was the eighth of ten children. He was initially sent to Garsington Rectory in Oxfordshire to study under the Reverend H.J. Graham but, unlike his older brothers who graduated from various Public Schools, he ended up attending Ipswich Grammar School. This was because his father, who regarded him as somebody who was not going to amount to much, could no longer afford to maintain his expensive private education. After failing his army entrance exam he was sent to a private ‘crammer’ in London to prepare for the entrance exam for the British Foreign Office, which in the end he never sat. Instead Haggard’s father sent him to Africa in an unpaid position as assistant to the secretary to the Lieutenant-Governor of Natal, Sir Henry Bulwer. It was in this role that Haggard was present in Pretoria for the official announcement of the British annexation of the Boer Republic of the Transvaal. In fact, Haggard raised the Union Flag and was forced to read out much of the proclamation following the loss of voice of the official originally entrusted with the duty. As a young man, Haggard fell deeply in love with Lilith Jackson, whom he intended to marry once he obtained paid employment in South Africa...
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...flask between my hands even though the warmth from the tea has long since leached into the frozen air. My muscles are clenched tight against the cold. If a pack of wild dogs were to appear at this moment, the odds of scaling a tree before they attacked are not in my favor. I should get up, move around, and work the stiffness from my limbs. But instead I sit, as motionless as the rock beneath me, while the dawn begins to lighten the woods. I can't fight the sun. I can only watch helplessly as it drags me into a day that I've been dreading for months. By noon they will all be at my new house in the Victor's Village. The reporters, the camera crews, even Effie Trinket, my old escort, will have made their way to District 12 from the Capitol. I wonder if Effie will still be wearing that silly pink wig, or if she'll be sporting some other unnatural color especially for the Victory Tour. There will be others waiting, too. A staff to cater to my every need on the long train trip. A prep team to beautify me for public appearances. My stylist and friend, Cinna, who designed the gorgeous outfits that first made the audience take notice of me in the Hunger Games. If it were up to me, I would try to forget the Hunger Games entirely. Never speak of them. Pretend they were nothing but a bad dream. But the Victory Tour makes that impossible. Strategically placed almost midway between the annual Games, it is the...
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...flask between my hands even though the warmth from the tea has long since leached into the frozen air. My muscles are clenched tight against the cold. If a pack of wild dogs were to appear at this moment, the odds of scaling a tree before they attacked are not in my favor. I should get up, move around, and work the stiffness from my limbs. But instead I sit, as motionless as the rock beneath me, while the dawn begins to lighten the woods. I can't fight the sun. I can only watch helplessly as it drags me into a day that I've been dreading for months. By noon they will all be at my new house in the Victor's Village. The reporters, the camera crews, even Effie Trinket, my old escort, will have made their way to District 12 from the Capitol. I wonder if Effie will still be wearing that silly pink wig, or if she'll be sporting some other unnatural color especially for the Victory Tour. There will be others waiting, too. A staff to cater to my every need on the long train trip. A prep team to beautify me for public appearances. My stylist and friend, Cinna, who designed the gorgeous outfits that first made the audience take notice of me in the Hunger Games. If it were up to me, I would try to forget the Hunger Games entirely. Never speak of them. Pretend they were nothing but a bad dream. But the Victory Tour makes that impossible. Strategically placed almost midway between the annual Games, it is the Capitol's way of...
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...the blood pounded in his head, and his hands were the hands of some amazing conductor playing all the symphonies of blazing and burning to bring down the tatters and charcoal ruins of history. With his symbolic helmet numbered 451 on his stolid head, and his eyes all orange flame with the thought of what came next, he flicked the igniter and the house jumped up in a gorging fire that burned the evening sky red and yellow and black. He strode in a swarm of fireflies. He wanted above all, like the old joke, to shove a marshmallow on a stick in the furnace, while the flapping pigeon-winged books died on the porch and lawn of the house. While the books went up in sparkling whirls and blew away on a wind turned dark with burning. Montag grinned the fierce grin of all men singed and driven back by flame. He knew that when he returned to the firehouse, he might wink at himself, a minstrel man, burntcorked, in the mirror. Later, going to sleep, he would feel the fiery smile still gripped by his face muscles, in the dark. It never went away, that. smile, it never ever went away, as long as he remembered. He hung up his black-beetle-coloured helmet and shined it, he hung his flameproof jacket neatly; he showered luxuriously, and then, whistling, hands in pockets, walked across the upper floor of the fire station and fell down the hole. At the last moment, when disaster seemed positive, he pulled his hands from his pockets and broke his fall by grasping the golden pole. He...
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...buildings stood near. Black tiles covered the palace roof, many fallen or broken; the mortar between the stones was dry and crumbling. She understood now why Xaro Xhoan Daxos called it the Palace of Dust. Even Drogon seemed disquieted by the sight of it. The black dragon hissed, smoke seeping out between his sharp teeth. “Blood of my blood,” Jhogo said in Dothraki, “this is an evil place, a haunt of ghosts and maegi. See how it drinks the morning sun? Let us go before it drinks us as well.” Ser Jorah Mormont came up beside them. “What power can they have if they live in that?” “Heed the wisdom of those who love you best,” said Xaro Xhoan Daxos, lounging inside the palanquin. “Warlocks are bitter creatures who eat dust and drink of shadows. They will give you naught. They have naught to give.” Aggo put a hand on his arakh. “Khaleesi, it is said that many go into the Palace of Dust, but few come out.” “It is said,” Jhogo agreed. “We are blood of your blood,” said Aggo, “sworn to live and die as you do. Let us walk with you in this dark place, to keep you safe from harm.” “Some places even a khal must walk alone,” Dany said. “Take me, then,” Ser Jorah urged. “The risk-” “Queen Daenerys must enter alone, or not at all.” The warlock Pyat Pree stepped out from under the trees. Has he been there all along? Dany wondered. “Should she turn away now, the doors of wisdom shall be closed to her forevermore.” “My pleasure barge awaits,...
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...developing. the watching stair a cloud of smoke is this question useful? the magnolia elephant milestones the same story make yourself at home truth no. 1 truth no. 2 truth no. 3 how best we can support you clock watching day 13, for example *I don’t hear voices drawing behaviour writing behaviour empty dull thud open wide sharp scratch this goodbye, the goodbye keepsake Acknowledgements all of my strength About the Author Copyright About the Publisher the girl and her doll I should say that I am not a nice person. Sometimes I try to be, but often I’m not. So when it was my turn to cover my eyes and count to a hundred – I cheated. I stood at the spot where you had to stand when it was your turn to count, which was beside the recycling bins, next to the shop selling disposable barbecues and spare tent pegs. And near to there is a small patch of overgrown grass, tucked away behind a water tap. Except I don’t remember standing there. Not really. You don’t always remember the details like that, do you? You don’t remember if you were beside the recycling bins, or further up the path near to the shower blocks, and whether actually the water tap is up there? I can’t now hear the manic cry of seagulls, or taste the salt in the air. I don’t feel the heat of the afternoon sun making me sweat beneath a clean white dressing on my knee, or the itching of suncream in the cracks of my scabs. I can’t make myself relive the vague sensation of deciding to cheat, and open my eyes. She looked about...
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...Exercises Articles Articles: a/an PEG 1-4 Insert a or an if necessary. 1 My neighbour is . . . photographer; let's ask him for . . . advice about colour films. 2 We had . . . fish and . . . chips for . . . lunch. ~ That doesn't sound . . . very interesting lunch. 3 I had . . . very bad night; I didn't sleep . . . wink. 4 He is . . . vegetarian; you won't get . . . meat at his house. He'll give you . . . nut cutlet. ~Last time I had . . . nut cutlet I had . . . indigestion. 5 . . . travel agent would give you . . . information about . . . hotels. 6 We'd better go by . . . taxi—if we can get . . . taxi at such . . . hour as 2 a.m. 7 . . . person who suffers from . . . claustrophobia has . . . dread of being confined in . . . small space, and would always prefer . . . stairs to . . . lift. 8 Do you take . . . sugar in . . . coffee? ~ I used to, but now I'm on . . . diet. I'm trying to lose . . . weight. 9 . . . man suffering from . . . shock should not be given anything to drink. 10 You'll get . . . shock if you touch . . . live wire with that screwdriver. Why don't you get . . . screwdriver with . . . insulated handle? 11 It costs fifty-five and . . . half pence and I've only got . . . fifty pence piece. ~ You can pay by . . . cheque here. ~ But can I write . . . cheque for . . . fifty-five and . . . half pence? 12 . . . Mr Smith is . . . old customer and . . . honest man. ~ Why do you say that? Has he been accused of . . . dishonesty...
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...Video Coffee Break Travel Fashion Finder Football Transfer News Cricket F1 Boxing Tennis Rugby Union Rugby League Golf Racing More Sports Fantasy Football Headlines Login DailyMail Tuesday, Aug 12th 2014 4PM 12°C 7PM 11°C 5-Day Forecast SuperBale! Bulked-up Real Madrid star eyes more glory ahead of his homecoming at Cardiff, the city where it all began 25 years ago LONDON, ENGLAND - JANUARY 19: Samuel Eto'o of Chelsea celebrates after scoring his team's third goal and completing his hat trick during the Barclays Premier League match between Chelsea and Manchester United at Stamford Bridge on January 19, 2014 in London, England. (Photo by Mike Hewitt/Getty Images)Liverpool consider shock swoop for former Chelsea star Eto'o as Rodgers looks to bolster striking options REVEALED: Find out who is the Premier League's most popular player when it comes down to shirt sales Man United BAN supporters from bringing in iPads and tablets into Old Trafford ahead of the new season FA facing new Wembley low with just 10,000 tickets sold for Norway friendly Khedira is NOT for sale: Ancelotti insists midfielder is going nowhere as Arsenal and Co are dealt transfer blow Drogba could miss the start of the season after picking up ankle injury Football - Tottenham Hotspur v FC Schalke 04 - Pre Season Friendly - White Hart Lane - 14/15 - 9/8/14 Tottenham Hotspur manager Mauricio Pochettino Mandatory Credit: Action Images / Jed Leicester EDITORIAL USE ONLY.You want to kill him!...
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...Men and Animals Chapter One: Date: Saturday, September 29th, 2019 Place: Bee’s Apartment Time: 7:35 p.m Maybe I am a little like Sekai-ichi’s main character, Takano Masumune. Everyone I dated made me a little cold in the heart. The more they got serious about me, the more I became cold to them. Also, we both like cats. We both are near-sighted. We both love to read. (But I’m not an editor-in-chief like he is.) And we both are still in love with someone after high school. Okay. Maybe I am a lot like Takano. But just not only in personality. I lay on the couch with my cat lying on my stomach and was purring away. I was petting her gently as possible while I was reading the Sekai-ichi Hatuskoi manga. This volume was back on Ritsu’s point of view. The last one was on Takano’s. He was explaining everything that happens between him and Ritsu. He was really mean to Ritsu then, but I like it how he slowly began to fall for Ritsu’s loving smile. Or was it just him in general? I closed the book and remember the page I was on. It’s been so long since I read the series. I took off my glasses and pinch the bridge of my nose then rubbing my eyes. I have been working my ass off since I graduated from the Early College High School to become an E4 in the Air Force. I was seventeen years old when I enlisted, but I really couldn’t do anything while I was still in high school working on college courses. But I did work on getting at least a 4.0 in my GPA or whatever it was I...
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...looking after donors brought up in every kind of place. By the time I finish, remember, I’ll have done twelve years of this, and it’s only for the last six they’ve let me choose. And why shouldn’t they? Carers aren’t machines. You try and do your best for every donor, but in the end, it wears you down. You don’t have unlimited patience and energy. So when you get a chance to choose, of course, you choose your own kind. That’s natural. There’s no way I could have gone on for as long as I have if I’d stopped feeling for my donors every step of the way. And anyway, if I’d never started choosing, how would I ever have got close again to Ruth and Tommy after all those years? But these days, of course, there are fewer and fewer donors left who I remember, and so in practice, I haven’t been choosing that much. As I say, the work gets a lot harder when you don’t have that deeper link with the donor, and though I’ll miss being a carer, it feels just about right to be finishing at last come the end of the year. Ruth, incidentally, was only the third or fourth donor I got to choose. She already had a carer assigned to her at the time, and I remember it taking a bit of nerve on my part. But in the end I managed it, and the instant I saw her again, at that recovery centre in Dover, all our differences—while they didn’t exactly vanish—seemed not nearly as important as all the other things: like the fact that we’d grown up together at Hailsham, the fact that we knew and remembered things no...
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...Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020 FREE PRESS and colophon are trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Adiga, Aravind. The white tiger: a novel / Aravind Adiga. p. cm. 1. Chauffeurs—India—Bangalore—Fiction. 2. Poor—India— Bangalore—Fiction. 3. Ambition—Fiction. 4. Business people— India—Bangalore—Fiction. 5. Bangalore (India)—Fiction. I. Title. PR9619.4.A35W47 2008 2007045527 823'.92—dc22 ISBN-13: 978-1-4165-6273-3 ISBN-10: 1-4165-6273-7 Visit us on the World Wide Web: http://www.SimonSays.com The First Night For the Desk of: His Excellency Wen Jiabao The Premier's Office Beijing Capital of the Freedom-loving Nation of China From the Desk of: "The White Tiger" A Thinking Man And an Entrepreneur Living in the world's center of Technology and Outsourcing Electronics City Phase 1 (just off Hosur Main Road) Bangalore, India Mr. Premier, Sir. Neither you nor I speak English, but there are some things that can be said only in English. My ex-employer the late Mr. Ashok's ex-wife, Pinky Madam, taught me one of these things; and at 11:32 p.m. today, which was about ten minutes ago, when the lady on All India Radio announced, "Premier Jiabao is coming to Bangalore next week," I said that...
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