Book III Lesson 41
Illusions of Pastoral peaceThe quiet life of the country has never appealed to me.
City born and city bred, I have always regarded the country as something you look at through a train window, or something you occasionally visit during the week-end.
Most of my friends live in the city, yet they always go into raptures at the mere mention of the country.
Though they extol the virtues of the peaceful life, only one of them has ever gone to live in the country and he was back in town within six months.
Evenhe still lives under the illusion that country life is somehow superior to town life.
He is forever talking about the friendly people, the clean atmosphere, the closeness to nature and the gentle pace of living.
Nothing can be compared, he maintains, with the first cock crow, the twittering of birds at dawn, the sight of the rising sun glinting on the trees and pastures.
This idyllic pastoral scene isonly part of the picture.
My friend fails to mention the long and friendless winter evenings which are interrupted only by an occasional visit to the local cinema-virtually the only form of entertainment.
He says nothing about the poor selection of goods in the shops, or about those unfortunate people who have to travel from the country to the city every day to get to work.
Why people are prepared to tolerate a four hour journey each day for the dubious privilege of living in the country is beyond my ken.
They could be saved so much misery and expense if they chose to live in the city where they rightly belong.
If you can do without the few pastoral pleasures of the country, you will find the city can provide you with the best that life can offer.
You never have to travel miles to see your friends.
They invariably live nearby and are always available for an informal chat or an evening's entertainment.
Some of my acquaintances in the country come up to town once or twice a year to visit the theatre as a special treat.
For them this is a major operation which involves considerable planning.
As the play draws to its close, they wonder whether they will ever catch that last train home.
The city dweller never experiences anxieties of this sort.
The latest exhibitions, films, or plays are only a short bus ride away.
Shopping, too, is always a pleasure.
There is so much variety that you never have to make do with second best.
Country people run wild when they go shopping in the city and stagger home loaded with as many of the necessities of life as they can carry.
Nor is the city without its moments of beauty.
There is something comforting about the warm glow shed by advertisements on cold wet winter nights.
Few things could be more impressive than the peace that descends on deserted city streets at week-ends when the thousands that travel to work everyday are tucked a way in their homes in the country.
It has always been a mystery to me why city dwellers, who appreciate all these things, obstinately pretend that they would prefer to live in the country.
Book III Lesson 42
Modern CavemenCave exploration, or potholing, as it has come to be known, is a relatively new sport.
Perhaps it is the desire for solitude or the chance of making an unexpected discovery that lures men down to the depths of the earth.
It is impossible to give a satisfactory explanation for a pot-holer's motives.
For him, caves have the same peculiar fascination which high mountains have for the climber.
They arouse instincts which can only be dimly understood.
Exploring really deep caves is not a task for the Sunday afternoon rambler.
Such undertakings require the precise planning and foresight of military operations.
It can take as long as eight days to rig up rope ladders and to establish supply bases before a descent can be made into a very deep cave.
Precautions of this sort are necessary, for it is impossible to foretell the exact nature of the difficulties which will confront the potholer.
The deepest known cave in the world is the Gouffre Berger near Grenoble.
It extends to a depth of 3723 feet.
This immense chasm has been formed by an underground stream which has tunnelled a course through a flaw in the rocks.
The entrance to the cave is on a plateau in the Dauphine Alps.
As it is only six feet across, it is barely noticeable.
The cave might never have been discovered had not the entrance been spotted by the distinguished French potholer, Berger.
Since its discovery, it has become a sort of potholers' Everest.
Though a number of descents have been made, much of it still remains to be explored.
A team of potholers recently went down the Gouffre Berger.
After entering the narrow gap on the plateau, they climbed down the steep sides of the cave until they came to a narrow corridor.
They had to edge their way along this, sometimes wading across shallow streams, or swimming across deep pools.
Suddenly they came to a waterfall which dropped into an underground lake at the bottom of the cave.
They plunged into the lake, and after loading their gear on an inflatable rubber dinghy, let the current carry them to the other side.
To protect themselves from the icy water, they had to wear special rubber suits.
At the far end of the lake, they came to huge piles of rubble which had been washed up by the water.
In this part of the cave, they could hear an insistent booming sound which they found was caused by a small water-spout shooting down into a pool from the roof of the cave.
Squeezing through a cleft in the rocks, the potholers arrived at an enormous cavern, the size of a huge concert hall.
After switching on powerful arc lights, they saw great stalagmites-some of them over forty feet high--rising up like tree-trunks to meet the stalactites suspended from the roof.
Round about, piles of lime-stone glistened in all the colours of the rainbow.
In the eerie silence of the cavern, the only sound that could be heard was made by water which dripped continuously from the high dome above them.
Book III Lesson 43
Fully insuredInsurance companies are normally willing to insure anything.
Insuring public or private property is a standard practice in most countries in the world.
If, however, you were holding an open air garden party or a fete it would be equally possible to insure yourself in the event of bad weather.
Needless to say, the bigger the risk an insurance company takes, the higher the premium you will have to pay.
It is not uncommon to hear that a ship-ping company has made a claim for the cost of salvaging a sunken ship.
But the claim made by a local authority to recover the cost of salvaging a sunken pie dish must surely be unique.
Admittedly it was an unusual pie dish, for it was eighteen feet long and six feet wide.
It had been purchased by a local authority so that an enormous pie could be baked for an annual fair.
The pie committee decided that the best way to transport the dish would be by canal, so they insured it for the trip.
Shortly after it was launched, the pie committee went to a local inn to celebrate.
At the same time, a number of teenagers climbed on to the dish and held a little party of their own.
Modern dances proved to be more than the disk could bear, for during the party it capsized and sank in seven feet of water.
The pie committee telephoned a local garage owner who arrived in a recovery truck to salvage the pie dish.
Shivering in their wet clothes, the teenagers looked on while three men dived repeatedly into the water to locate the dish.
They had little difficulty in finding it, but hauling it out of the water proved to be a serious problem.
The sides of the dish were so smooth that it was almost impossible to attach hawsers and chains to the rim without damaging it.
Eventually chains were fixed to one end of the dish and a powerful winch was put into operation.
The dish rose to the surface and was gently drawn towards the canal bank.
For one agonizing moment, the dish was perched precariously on the bank of the canal, but it suddenly overbalanced and slid back into the water.
The men were now obliged to try once more.
This time they fixed heavy metal clamps to both sides of the dish so that they could fasten the chains.
The dish now had to be lifted vertically because one edge was resting against the side of the canal.
The winch was again put into operation and one of the men started up the truck.
Several minutes later, the dish was successfully hauled above the surface of the water.
Water streamed in torrents over its sides with such force that it set up a huge wave in the canal.
There was danger that the wave would rebound off the other side of the bank and send the dish plunging into the water again.
By working at tremendous speed, the men managed to get the dish on to dry land before the wave returned.
Book III Lesson 44
Speed and comfortPeople travelling long distances frequently have to decide whether they would prefer to go by land, sea, or air.
Hardly anyone can positively enjoy sitting in a train for more than a few hours.
Train compartments soon get cramped and stuffy.
It is almost impossible to take your mind off the journey.
Reading is only a partial solution, for the monotonous rhythm of the wheels clicking on the rails soon lulls you to sleep.
During the day, sleep comes in snatches.
At night, when you really wish to go to sleep, you rarely manage to do so.
If you are lucky enough to get a couchette, you spend half the night staring at the small blue light in the ceiling, or fumbling to find your passport when you cross a frontier.
Inevitably you arrive at your destination almost exhausted.
Long car journeys are even less pleasant, for it is quite impossible even to read.
On motor-ways you can, at least, travel fairly safely at high speeds, but more often than not, the greater part of the journey is spent on narrow, bumpy roads which are crowded with traffic.
By comparison, trips by sea offer a great variety of civilized comforts.
You can stretch your legs on the spacious decks, play games, swim, meet interesting people and enjoy good food--always assuming, of course, that the sea is calm.
If it is not, and you are likely to get sea-sick, no form of transport could be worse.
Even if you travel in ideal weather, sea journeys take a long time.
Relatively few people are prepared to sacrifice up to a third of their holidays for the pleasure of travelling on a ship.
Aeroplanes have the reputation of being dangerous and even hardened travellers are intimidated by them.
They also have the grave disadvantage of being the most expensive form of transport.
But nothing can match them for speed and comfort.
Travelling at a height of 30,000 feet, far above the clouds, and at over 500 miles an hour is an exhilarating experience.
You do not have to deviseways of taking your mind off the journey, for an aeroplane gets you to your destination rapidly.
For a few hours, you settle back in a deep armchair to enjoy the flight.
The real escapist can watch a free film show and sip champagne on some services.
But even when such refinements are not available, there is plenty to keep you occupied.
An aeroplane offers you an unusual and breathtaking view of the world.
You soar effortlessly over high mountains and deep valleys.
You really see the shape of the land.
If the landscape is hidden from view, you can enjoy the extraordinary sight of unbroken cloud plains that stretch out for miles before you, while the sun shines brilliantly in a clear sky.
The journey is so smooth that there is nothing to prevent you from reading or sleeping.
However you decide to spend your time, one thing is certain: you will arrive at your destination fresh and uncrumpled.
You will not have to spend the next few days recovering from a long and arduous journey.
Book III Lesson 45
The power of pressIn democratic countries any efforts to restrict the freedom of the press are rightly condemned.
However, this freedom can easily be abused.
Stories about people often attract far more public attention than political events.
Though we may enjoy reading about the lives of others, it is extremely doubtful whether we would equally enjoy reading about ourselves.
Acting on the contention that facts are sacred, reporters can cause untold suffering to individuals by publishing details about their private lives.
Newspapers exert such tremendous influence that they can not only bring about major changes to the lives of ordinary people but can even overthrow a government.
The story of a poor family that acquired fame and fortune overnight, dramatically illustrates the power of the press.
The family lived in Aberdeen, a small town of 23,000 inhabitants in South Dakota.
As the parents had five children, life was a perpetual struggle against poverty.
They were expecting their sixth child and faced with even more pressing economic problems.
If they had only had one more child, the fact would have passed unnoticed.
They would have continued to struggle against economic odds and would have lived in obscurity.
But they suddenly became the parents of quintuplets, four girls and a boy, an event which radically changed their lives.
The day after the birth of the five children, an aeroplane arrived in Aberdeen bringing sixty reporters and photographers.
The news was of national importance, for the poor couple had become the parents of the only quintuplets in America.
The rise to fame was swift.
Television cameras and newspapers carried the news to everyone in the country.
Newspapers and magazines offered the family huge sums for the exclusive rights to publish stories and photographs.
Gifts poured in not only from unknown people, but from baby food and soap manufacturers who wished to advertise their products.
The old farmhouse the family lived in was to be replaced by a new $100,000 home.
Reporters kept pressing for interviews so lawyers had to be employed to act as spokesmen for the family at press conferences.
The event brought serious changes to the town itself.
Plans were announced to build a huge new highway, as Aberdeen was now likely to attract thousands of tourists.
Signposts erected on the outskirts of the town directed tourists not to Aberdeen, but to 'Quint-City U.
S.
A.'
The local authorities discussed the possibility of erecting a 'quint museum' to satisfy the curiosity of the public and to protect the family from inquisitive tourists.
While the five babies were still quietly sleeping in oxygen tents in a hospital nursery, their parents were paying the price for fame.
It would never again be possible for them to lead normal lives.
They had become the victims of commercialization, for their names had acquired a market value.
The town itself received so much attention that almost every one of the inhabitants was affected to a greater or less degree.
Book III Lesson 46
Do it yourselfSo great is our passion for doing things for ourselves, that we are becoming increasingly less dependent on specialized labour.
No one can plead ignorance of a subject any longer, for there are countless do-it-yourself publications.
Armed with the right tools and materials, newly-weds gaily embark on the task of decorating their own homes.
Men of all ages spend hours of their leisure time installing their own fireplaces, laying-out their own gardens; building garages and makingfurniture.
Some really keen enthusiasts go so far as to build their own record players and radio transmitters.
Shops cater for the do-it-yourself craze not only by running special advisory services for novices, but by offering consumers bits and pieces which they can assemble at home.
Such things provide an excellent outlet for pent-up creative energy, but unfortunately not all of us are born handymen.
Wives tend to believe that their husbands are infinitely resourceful and versatile.
Even husbands who can hardly drive a nail in straight are supposed to be born electricians, carpenters, plumbers and mechanics.
When lights fuse, furniture gets rickety, pipes get clogged, or vacuum cleaners fail to operate, wives automatically assume that their husbands will somehow put things right.
The worst thing about the do-it-yourself game is that sometimes husbands live under the delusion that they can do anything even when they have been repeatedly proved wrong.
It is a question of pride as much as anything else.
Last spring my wife suggested that I call in a man to look at our lawn-mower.
It had broken down the previous summer, and though I promised to repair it, I had never got round to it.
I would not hear of the suggestion and said that I would fix it myself.
One Saturday afternoon, I hauled the machine into the garden and had a close look at it.
As far as I could see, it only needed a minor adjustment: a turn of a screw here, a little tightening up there, a drop of oil and it would be as good as new.
Inevitably the repair job was not quite so simple.
The mower firmly refused to mow, so I decided to dismantle it.
The garden was soon littered with chunks of metal which had once made up a lawn-mower.
But I was extremely pleased with myself I had traced the cause of the trouble.
One of the links in the chain that drives the wheels had snapped.
After buying a new chain I was faced with the insurmountable task of putting the confusing jigsaw puzzle together again.
I was not surprised to find that the machine still refusedto work after I had reassembled it, for the simple reason that I was left with several curiously shaped bits of metal which did not seem to fit anywhere.
I gave up in despair.
The weeks passed and the grass grew.
When my wife nagged me to do something about it, I told her that either I would have to buy a new mower or let the grass grow.
Needless to say our house is now surrounded by a jungle.
Buried somewhere in deep grass there is a rusting lawn-mower which I have promised to repair one day.
Book III Lesson 47
Through the earth's crustSatellites orbiting round the earth have provided scientists with a vast amount of information about conditions in outer space.
By comparison, relatively little is known about the internal structure of the earth.
It has proved easier to go up than to go down.
The deepest hole ever to bebored on land went down 25,340 feet-- considerably less than the height of Mount Everest.
Drilling a hole under the sea has proved to be even more difficult.
The deepest hole bored under sea has been about 20,000 feet.
Until recently, scientists have been unable to devise a drill which would be capable of cutting through hard rock at great depths.
This problem has now been solved.
Scientists have developed a method which sounds surprisingly simple.
A new drill which is being tested at Leona Valley Ranch in Texas is driven by a turbine engine which is propelled by liquid mud pumped into it from the surface.
As the diamond tip of the drill revolves, it is lubricated by mud.
Scientists have been amazed to find that it can cut through the hardest rock with great ease.
The drill has been designed to bore through the earth to a depth of 35,000 feet.
It will enable scientists to obtain samples of the mysterious layer which lies immediately below the earth's crust.
This layer is known as the Mohorovicic Discontinuity, but is commonly referred to as 'the Moho'.
Before it is possible to drill this deep hole, scientists will have to overcome a number of problems.
Geological tests will be carried out to find the point at which the earth's crust is thinnest.
The three possible sites which are being considered are all at sea: two in the Atlantic Ocean and one in the Pacific.
Once they have determinded on a site, they will have to erect a drilling vessel which willnot be swept away by ocean currents.
The vessel will consist of an immense platform which will rise to 70 feet above the water.
It will be supported by six hollow columns which will descend to a depth of 60 feet below the ocean surface where they will be fixed to a huge float.
A tall steel tower rising to a height of nearly 200 feet will rest on the platform.
The drill will be stored in the towerand will have to be lowered through about 15,000 feet of water before operations can begin.
Within the tower, there will be a laboratory, living accommodation and a helicopter landing station.
Keeping the platform in position at sea will give rise to further problems.
To do this, scientists will have to devise methods using radar and underwater television.
If, during the operations the drill has to be withdrawn, it must be possible to re-insert it.
Great care will therefore have to be taken to keep the platform steady and make it strong enough to withstand hurricanes.
If the project is successful, scientists will not only learn a great deal about the earth, but possibly about the nature of the universe itself.
Book III Lesson 48
The silent villageIn this much-travelled world, there are still thousands of places which are inaccessible to tourists.
We always assume that villagers in remote places are friendly and hospitable.
But people who are cut off not only from foreign tourists, but even from their own countrymen can be hostile to travellers.
Visits to really remote villages are seldom enjoyable--as my wife and I discovered during a tour through the Balkans.
We had spent several days in a small town and visited a number of old churches in the vicinity.
These attracted many visitors for they were not only of great architectural interest, but contained alarge number of beautifully preserved frescoes as well.
On the day before our departure, several bus loads of tourists descended on the town.
This was more than we could bear, so we decided to spend our last day exploring the countryside.
Taking a path which led out of the town, we crossed a few fields until we came to a dense wood.
We expected the path to end abruptly, but we found that it traced its way through the trees.
We tramped through the wood for over two hours until we arrived at a deep stream.
We could see that the path continued on the other side, but we had no idea how we could get across the stream.
Suddenly my wife spotted a boat moored to the bank.
In it there was a boatman fast asleep.
We gently woke him up and asked him to ferry us to the other side.
Though he was reluctant to do so at first, we eventually persuaded him to take us.
The path led to a tiny village perched on the steep sides of a mountain.
The place consisted of a straggling unmade road which was lined on either side by small houses.
Even under a clear blue sky, the village looked forbidding, as all the houses were built of grey mud bricks.
The village seemed deserted, the only sign of life being an ugly-looking black goat tied to a tree on a short length ofrope in a field nearby.
Sitting down on a dilapidated wooden fence near the field, we opened a couple of tins of sardines and had a picnic lunch.
All at once, I noticed that my wife seemed to be filled with alarm.
Looking up I saw that we were surrounded by children in rags who were looking at us silently as we ate.
We offered them food and spoke to them kindly, but they remained motionless.
I concluded that they were simply shy of strangers.
When we later walked down the main street of the village, we were followed by a silent procession of children.
The village which had seemed deserted, immediately came to life.
Faces appeared at windows.
Men in shirt sleeves stood outside their houses and glared at us.
Old women in black shawls peered at us from door-ways.
The most frightening thing of all was that not a sound could be heard.
There was no doubt that we were unwelcome visitors.
We needed no further warning.
Turning back down the main street, we quickened our pace and made our way rapidly towards the stream where we hoped the boatman was waiting.
Book III Lesson 49
The Ideal ServantIt is a good thing my aunt Harriet died years ago.
If she were alive today she would not be able to air her views on her favourite topic of conversation: domestic servants.
Aunt Harriet lived in thatleisurely age when servants were employed to do housework.
She had a huge, rambling country house called 'The Gables'.
She was sentimentally attached to this house, for even though it was fartoo big for her needs, she persisted in living there long after her husband's death.
Before she grew old, aunt Harriet used to entertain lavishly.
I often visited The Gables when I was a boy.
No matterhow many guests were present, the great house was always immaculate.
The parquet floors shone like mirrors; highly polished silver was displayed in gleaming glass cabinets; even my uncle's huge collection of books was kept miraculously free from dust.
Aunt Harriet presided over an invisible army of servants that continuously scrubbed, cleaned, and polished.
She always referred to them as' the shifting population', for they came and went with such frequency that I never even got a chance to learn their names, Though my aunt pursued what was, in those days, an enlightened policy in that she never allowed her domestic staff to work more than eight hours a day, she was extremely difficult to please.
While she always decried the fickleness of human nature, she carried on an unrelenting search for the ideal servant to the end of her days, even after she had been sadly disillusioned by Bessie.
Bessie worked for aunt Harriet for three years.
During that time she so gained my aunt's confidence, that she was put in charge of the domestic staff.
Aunt Hariet could not find words to praise Bessie's industry and efficiency.
In addition to all her other qualifications, Bessie was an expert cook.
She acted the role of the perfect servant for three years before aunt Harriet discovered her 'little weakness'.
After being absent from The Gables for a week, my aunt unexpectedly returned one afternoon with a party of guests and instructed Bessie to prepare dinner.
Not only was the meal well below the usual standard, but Bessie seemed unable to walk steadily.
She bumped into the furniture and kept mumbling about the guests.
When she came in with the last course-a huge pudding-she tripped on the carpet and the pudding went flying through the air, narrowly missed my aunt, and crashed on the dining table with considerable force.
Though this occasioned great mirth among the guests, aunt Harriet was horrified.
She reluctantly came to the conclusion that Bessie was drunk.
The guests had, of course, realized this from the moment Bessie opened the door for them and, long before the final catastrophe, had had a difficult time trying to conceal their amusement.
The poor girl was dismissed instantly.
After her departure, aunt Harriet discovered that there were piles of empty wine bottles of all shapes and sizes neatly stacked in what had once been Bessie's wardrobe.
They had mysteriously found their way there from the wine-cellar!
Book III Lesson 50
New Year ResolutionsThe New Year is a time for resolutions.
Mentally, at least, most of us could compile formidable lists of ' do's' and' don'ts '.
The same old favourites recur year in year out with monotonous regularity.
We resolve to get up earlier each morning, eat less, find more time to play with the children, do a thousand and one jobs about the house, be nice to people we don't like, drive carefully, and take the dog for a walk every day.
Past experience has taught us that certain accomplishments are beyond attainment.
If we remain inveterate smokers, it is only because we have so often experienced the frustration that results from failure.
Most of us fail in our efforts at self-improvement because our schemes are too ambitious and we never have time to carry them out.
We also make the fundamental error of announcing our resolutions to everybody so that we look even more foolish when we slip back into our bad old ways.
Aware of these pitfalls, this year I attempted to keep my resolutions to myself.
I limited myself to two modest ambitions: to do physical exercises every morning and to read more of an evening.
An all-night party on New Year's Eve, provided me with a good excuse for not carrying out either of these new resolutions on the first day of the year, but on the second, I applied myself assiduously to the task.
The daily exercises lasted only eleven minutes and I proposed to do them early in the morning before anyone had got up.
The self-discipline required to drag myself out of bed eleven minutes earlier than usual was considerable.
Nevertheless, I managed to creep down into the living-room for two days before anyone found me out.
After jumping about on the carpet and twisting the human frame into uncomfortable positions, I sat down at the breakfast table in an exhausted condition.
It was this that betrayed me.
The next morning the whole family trooped in to watch the performance.
That was really unsettling but I fended off the taunts and jibes of the family good-humouredly and soon everybody got used to the idea.
However, my enthusiasm waned.
The time I spent at exercises gradually diminished.
Little by little the eleven minutes fell to zero.
By January 10th, I was back to where I had started from.
I argued that if I spent less time exhausting myself at exercises in the morning I would keep my mind fresh for reading when I got home from work.
Resisting the hypnotizing effect of television, I sat in my room for a few evenings with my eyes glued to a book, one night, however, feeling cold and lonely, I went downstairs and sat in front of the television pretending to read.
That proved to be my undoing, for I soon got back to my old bad habit of dozing off in front of the screen.
I still haven't given up my resolution to do more reading.
In fact, I have just bought a book entitled 'How to Read a Thousand Words a Minute'.
Perhaps it will solve my problem, but I just haven't had time to read it!
Book III Lesson 51
AutomationOne of the greatest advances in modern technology has been the invention of computers.
They are already widely used in industry and in universities and the time may come when it will be possiblefor ordinary people to use them as well.
Computers are capable of doing extremely complicated work in all branches of learning.
They can solve the most complex mathematical problems or putthousands of unrelated facts in order.
These machines can be put to varied uses.
For instance, they can provide information on the best way to prevent traffic accidents, or they can count the numberof times the word 'and' has been used in the Bible.
Because they work accurately and at high speeds, they save research workers years of hard work.
This whole process by which machines can be used to work for us has been called automation.
In the future, automation may enable human beings to enjoy far more leisure than they do today.
The coming of automation is bound to have important social consequences.
Some time ago an expert, on automation, Sir Leon Bagrit, pointed out that it was a mistake to believe that these machines could 'think'.
There is no possibility that human beings will be 'controlled by machines'.
Though computers are capable of learning from their mistakes and improving on their performance they need detailed instructions from human beings in order to be able to operate.
They can never, as it were, lead independent lives, or 'rule the world' by making decisions of their own.
Sir Leon said that in the future, computers would be developed which would be small enough to carry in the pocket.
Ordinary people would then be able to use them to obtain valuable information.
Computers could be plugged into a national network and be used like radios.
For instance, people going on holiday could be informed about weather conditions; car drivers could be given alternative routes when there are traffic jams.
It will also be possible to make tiny translating machines.
This will enable people who do not share a common language to talk to each other without any difficulty or to read foreign publications.
It is impossible to assess the importance of a machine of this sort, for many international misunderstandings are caused simply through our failure to understand each other.
Computers will also be used in hospitals.
By providing a machine with a patient's symptoms, a doctor will be able to diagnose the nature of his illness.
Similarly, machines could be used to keep a check on a patient's health record and bring it up to date.
Doctors will therefore have immediate access to a great many facts which will help them in their work.
Book-keepers and accountants, too, could be relieved of dull clerical work, forthe tedious task of compiling and checking lists of figures could be done entirely by machines.
Computers are the most efficient servants man has ever had and there is no limit to the way they can be used to improve our lives.
Book III Lesson 52
Mud is mudMy cousin, Harry, keeps a large curiously shaped bottle on permanent display in his study.
Despite the fact that the bottle is tinted a delicate shade of green, an observant visitor would soon notice that it is filled with what looks like a thick greyish substance.
If you were to ask Harry what was in the bottle, he would tell you that it contained perfumed mud.
If you expressed doubt or surprise, he would immediately invite you to smell it and then to rub some into your skin.
This brief experiment would dispel any further doubts you might entertain.
The bottle really does contain perfumed mud.
How Harry came into the possession of this outlandish stuff makes an interesting story which he is fond of relating.
Further- more, the acquisition of this bottle cured him of a bad habit he had been developing for years.
Harry used to consider it a great joke to go into expensive cosmetic shops and make outrageous requests for goods that do not exist.
He would invent fanciful names on the spot.
On entering a shop, he would ask for a new perfume called 'Scented Shadow' or for 'insoluble bath cubes'.
If a shop girl told him she had not heard of it, he would pretend to be considerably put out.
He loved to be told that one of his imaginary products was temporarily out of stock and he would faithfully promise to call again at some future date, but of course he never did.
How Harry managed to keep a straight face during these performances is quite beyond me.
Harry does not need to be prompted to explain how he bought his precious bottle of mud.
One day, he went to an exclusive shop in London and asked for 'Myrolite'.
The shop assistant looked puzzled and Harry repeated the word, slowly stressing each syllable.
When the girl shook her head in bewilderment, Harry went on to explain that 'myrolite' was a hard, amber-like substance which could be used to remove freckles.
This explanation evidently conveyed something to the girl who searched shelf after shelf.
She produced all sorts of weird concoctions, but none of them met with Harry's requirements.
When Harry put on his act of being mildly annoyed, the girl promised to order some for him.
Intoxicated by his success, Harry then asked for perfumed mud.
He expected the girl to look at him in blank astonishment.
However, it was his turn to be surprised, for the girl's eyes immediately lit up and she 'fetched several botties which she placed on the counter for Harry to inspect.
For once, Harry had to admit defeat.
He picked up what seemed to be the smallest bottle and discreetly asked the price.
He was glad to get away with a mere five guineas and he beat a hasty retreat, clutching the precious bottle under his arm.
From then on, Harry decided that this little game he had invented might prove to be expensive.
The curious bottle which now adorns the bookcase in his study was his first and last purchase of rare cosmetics.
Book III Lesson 53
In the public interestThe Scandinavian countries are much admired all over the world for their enlightened social policies.
Sweden has evolved an excellent system for protecting the individual citizen from high-handed or incompetent public officers.
The system has worked so well, that it has been adopted in other countries like Denmark, Norway, Finland, and New Zealand.
Even countries with large populations like Britain and the United States are seriously considering imitating the Swedes.
The Swedes were the first to recognize that public officials like civil servants, collectors can make mistakes or act over-zealously in the belief that they are serving the public.
As long ago as 1809, the Swedish Parliament introduced a scheme to safeguard the interest of the individual.
A parliamentary committee representing all political parties appoints a person who is suitably qualified to investigate private grievances against the State.
The official title of the person is 'Justiteombudsman', but the Swedes commonly refer to him as the 'J.
O.'
or 'Ombudsman'.
The Ombudsman is not subject to political pressure.
He investigates complaints large and small that come to him from all levels of society.
As complaints must be made in writing, the Ombudsman receives an average of 1200 letters a year.
He has eight lawyer assistants to help him and he examines every single letter in detail.
There is nothing secretive about the Ombudsman's work, for his correspondence is open to public inspection.
If a citizen's complaint is justified, the Ombudsman will act on his behalf.
The action he takes varies according to the nature of the complaint.
He may gently reprimand an official or even suggest to parliament that a law be altered.
The following case is a typical example of the Ombudsman's work.
A foreigner living in a Swedish village wrote to the Ombudsman complaining that he had been ill-treated by the police, simply because he was a foreigner.
The Ombudsman immediately wrote to the Chief of Police in the district asking him to send a record of the case.
There was nothing in the record to show that the foreigner's complaint was justified and the Chief of Police stoutly denied the accusation.
It was impossible for the Ombudsman to take action, but when he received a similar complaint from another foreigner in the same village, he immediately sent one of his lawyers to investigate the matter.
The lawyer ascertained that a policeman had indeed dealt roughly with foreigners on several occasions.
The fact that the policeman was prejudiced against foreigners could not be recorded in he official files.
It was only possible for the Ombudsman to find this out by sending one of his representatives to check the facts.
The policeman in question was severely reprimanded and was informed that if any further complaints were lodged against him, he would be prosecuted.
The Ombudsman's prompt action at once put an end to an unpleasant practice which might have gone unnoticed.
Book III Lesson 54
Instinct or cleverness?
We have been brought up to fear insects.
We regard them as unnecessary creatures that do more harm than good.
Man continually wages war on item, for they contaminate his food, carry diseases, or devour his crops.
They sting or bite without provocation; they fly uninvited into our rooms on summer nights, or beat against our lighted windows.
We live in dread not only of unpleasant insects like spiders or wasps, but of quite harmless ones like moths.
Reading about them increases our understanding with out dispelling our fears.
Knowing that the industrious ant lives in a highlyorganized society does nothing to prevent us from being filled with revulsion when we find hordes of them crawling over a carefully prepared picnic lunch.
No matter how much we like honey, or how much we have read about the uncanny sense of direction which bees possess, we have a horror of being stung.
Most of our fears are unreasonable, but they are impossible to erase.
At the same time, however, insects are strangely fascinaing.
We enjoy reading about them, especially when we find that, like the praying mantis, they lead perfectly horrible lives.
We enjoy staring at them entranced as they go about their business, unaware (we hope) of our presence.
Who has not stood in awe at the sight of a spider pouncing on a fly, or a column of ants triumphantly bearing home an enormous dead beetle ?
Last summer I spent days in the garden watching thousands of ants crawling up the trunk of my prize peach tree.
The tree has grown against a warm wall on a sheltered side of the house.
I am especially proud of it, not only because it has survived several severe winters, but because it occasionally produces luscious peaches.
During the summer, I noticed that the leaves of the tree were beginning to wither.
Clusters of tiny insects called aphides were to be found on the underside of the leaves.
They were visited by a laop colony of ants which obtained a sort of honey from them.
I immediately embarked on an experiment which, even though it failed to get rid of the ants, kept me fascinated for twenty-four hours.
I bound the base of the tree with sticky tape , making it impossible for the ants to reach the aphides.
The tape was so sticky that they did not dare to cross it.
For a long time, I watched them scurrying around the base of the tree in bewilderment.
I even went out at midnight with a torch and noted with satisfaction (and surprise) that the ants were still swarming around the sticky tape without being able to do anything about it.
I got up early next morning hoping to find that the ants had given up in despair.
Instead, I saw that they had discovered a new route.
They were climbing up the wall of the house and then on to the leaves ofthe tree.
I realized sadly that I had been completely defeated by their ingenuity.
The ants had been quick to find an answer to my thoroughly unscientific methods!
Book III Lesson 55
From the earth: greatingsRadio astronomy has greatly increased our understanding of the universe.
Radio telescopes have one big advantage over conventional telescopes in that they can operate in all weather conditions and can pick up signals coming from very distant stars.
These signals are produced by colliding stars or nuclear reactions in outer space.
The most powerful signals that have been received have been emitted by what seem to be truly colossal stars which scientists have named 'quasars'.
A better understanding of these phenomena may completely alter our conception of the nature of the universe.
The radio telescope at Jodrell Bank in England was for many years the largest in the world.
A new telescope, over twice the size, was recently built at Sugar Grove in West Virginia.
Astronomers no longer regard as fanciful the idea that they may one day pick up signals which have been sent by intelligent beings on other worlds.
This possibility gives rise to interesting speculations.
Highly advanced civilizations may have existed on other planets long before intelligent forms of life evolved on the earth.
Conversely, intelligent being which are just beginning to develop on remote worlds may be ready to pick up our signals in thousands of years' time, or when life on earth has become extinct.
Such speculations no longer belong to the realm of science fiction, for astronomers are now exploring the chances of communicating with living creatures (if they exist) on distant planets.
This undertaking which has been named Project Ozma was begun in 1960, but it may take a great many years before results are obtained.
Aware of the fact that it would be impossible to wait thousands or millions of years to receive an answer from a distant planet, scientists engaged in Project Ozma are concentrating their attention on stars which are relatively close.
One of the most likely stars is Tau Ceti which is eleven light years away.
If signals from the earth were received by intelligent creatures on a planet circling thisstar, we would have to wait twenty-two years for an answer.
The Green Bank telescope in West Virginia has been specially designed to distinguish between random signals and signals which might be in code.
Even if contact were eventually established, astronomers would not be able to rely on language to communicate with other beings.
They would use mathematics as this is theonly truly universal language.
Numbers have the same value anywhere.
For this reason, intelligent creatures in any part of the universe would be able to understand a simple arithmetical sequence.
They would be able to reply to our signals using similar methods.
The next step would be to try to develop means for sending television pictures.
A single picture would tell us more than thousands of words.
In an age when anything seems to be possible, it would be narrow-minded in the extreme to ridicule these attempts to find out if there is life in other parts of the universe.
Book III Lesson 56
The river beside our farmThe river which forms the eastern boundary of our farm has always played an important part in our lives.
Without it we could not make a living.
There is only enough spring water to supply the needs of the house, so we have to pump from the river for farm use.
We tell the river all our secrets.
We know instinctively, just as beekeepers with their bees, that misfortune might overtake us if the important events of our lives were not related to it.
We have special river birthday parties in the summer.
Sometimes we go up-stream to a favourite backwater, some- times we have our party at the boathouse, which a predecessor of ours at the farm built in the meadow hard by the deepest pool for swimming and diving.
In a heat-wave we choose a midnight birthday party and that is the most exciting of all.
We welcome the seasons by the river- side, crowning the youngest girl with flowers in the spring, holding a summer festival on Midsummer Eve, giving thanks for the harvest in the autumn, and throwing a holly wreath into the current in the winter.
After a long period of rain the river may overflow its banks.
This is a rare occurrence as our climate seldom god to extremes.
We are lucky in that only the lower fields, which make up a very small proportion of our farm, are affected by flooding, but other farms are less favourably sited, and flooding can sometimes spell disaster for their owners.
One bad winter we watched the river creep up the lower meadows.
All the cattle had been moved into stalls and we stood to lose little.
We were, however, worried about our nearest neighbours, whose farm was low lying and who were newcomers to the district.
As the floods had put the telephone out of order, we could not find out how they were managing.
From an attic window we could get a sweeping view of the river where their land joined ours, and at the most critical juncture we took turns in watching that point.
The first sign of disaster was a dead sheep floating down.
Next came a horse, swimming bravely, but we were afraid that the strength of the current would prevent its landing anywhere before it became exhausted.
Suddenly a raft appeared, looking rather like Noah's ark, carrying the whole family, a few hens, the dogs, a cat, and a bird in a cage.
We realized that they must have become unduly frightened by the rising flood, for their house, which had sound foundations, would have stood stoutly even if it had been almost submerged.
The men of our family waded down through our flooded meadows with boathooks, in the hope of being able to grapple a corner of the raft and pull it out of the current towards our bank.
We still think it a miracle that they were able to do so.
Book III Lesson 57
The return of the nativeI stopped to let the car cool off and to study the map.
I had expected to be near my objective by now, but everything still seemed alien to me.
I was only five when my father had taken me abroad, and that was eighteen years ago.
When my mother had died after a tragic accident, he did not quickly recover from the shock and loneliness.
Everything around him was full of her presence, continually re-opening the wound.
So he decided to emigrate.
In the new country he became absorbed in making a new life for the two of us, so that he gradually ceased to grieve.
He did not marry again and I was brought up without a woman's care; but I lacked for nothing, for he was both father and mother to me.
He always meant to go back one day but not to stay.
His roots and mine had become too firmly embedded in the new land.
But he wanted to see the old folk again and to visit my mother's grave.
He became mortally ill a few months before we had planned to go and, when he knew that he was dying, he made me promise to go on my own.
I hired a car the day after landing and bought a comprehensive book of maps, which I found most helpful on the cross country journey, but which I did not think I should need on the last stage.
It was not that I actually remembered anything at all.
But my father had described over and over again what we should see at every milestone, after leaving the nearest town, so that I was positive I should recognize it as familiar territory.
Well, I had been wrong, for I was now lost.
I looked at the map and then at the milometer.
I had come ten miles since leaving the town, and at this point, according to my father, I should be looking at farms and cottages in a valley, with the spire of the church of our village showing in the far distance.
I could see no valley, no farms, no cottages and no church spire--only a lake.
I decided that I must have taken a wrong turning somewhere.
So I drove back to the town and began to retrace the route, taking frequent glances at the map.
I landed up at the same corner.
The curious thing was that the lake was not marked on the map.
I felt as if I had stumbled into a nightmare country, as you sometimes do in dreams.
And, as in a nightmare, there was nobody in sight to help me.
Fortunately for me, as I was wondering what to do next, there appeared on the horizon a man on horseback, riding in my direction.
I waited till he came near, then I asked him the way to our old village.
He said that there was now no village.
I thought he must have misunderstood me.
so I repeated its name.
This time he pointed to the lake.
The village no longer existed because it had been submerged, and all the valley too.
The lake was not a natural one, but a man made reservoir.
Book III Lesson 58
A little spot of botherThe old lady was glad to be back at the block of flats where she lived.
Her shopping had tired her and her basket had grown heavier with every step of the way home.
In the lift her thoughts were on lunch and a good rest; but when she got out at her own floor, both were forgotten in her sudden discovery that her front door was open.
She was thinking that she must reprimand her daily maid the next morning for such a monstrous piece of negligence, when she remembered that she had gone shopping after the maid had left and she knew that she had turned both keys in their locks.
She walked slowly into the hall and at once noticed that all the room doors were open, yet following her regular practice she had shut them before going out.
Looking into the drawing room, she saw a scene of confusion over by her writing desk.
It was as clear as daylight then that burglars had forced an entry during her absence.
Her first impulse was to go round all the rooms looking for the thieves, but then she decided that at her age it might be more prudent to have someone with her, so she went to fetch the porter from his basement.
By this time her legs were beginning to tremble, so she sat down and accepted a cup of very strong tea, while he telephoned the police.
Then, her composure regained, she was ready to set off with the porter's assistance tosearch for any intruders who might still be lurking in her flat.
They went through the rooms, being careful to touch nothing, as they did not want to hinder the police in their search for fingerprints.
The chaos was inconceivable.
She had lived in the flat for thirty years and was a veritable magpie at hoarding; and it seemed as though everything she possessed had been tossed out and turned over and over.
At least sorting out the things she should have discarded years ago was now being made easier for her.
Then a police inspector arrived with a constable and she told them of her discovery of the ransacked flat.
The inspector began to look for fingerprints, while the constable checked that the front door locks had not been forced, therebyproving that the burglars had either used skeleton keys or entered over the balcony.
There was no trace of fingerprints, but the inspector found a dirty red bundle that contained jewellery which the old lady said was not hers.
So their entry into this flat was apparently not the burglars' first job that day and they must have been disturbed.
The inspector then asked the old lady to try to check what was missing by the next day and advised her not to stay alone in the flat for a few nights.
The old lady thought he was a fussy creature, but since the porter agreed with him, she rang up her daughter and asked for her help in what she described as a little spot of bother.
Book III Lesson 59
Possession amassing and collectingPeople tend to amass possessions, some-times without being aware of doing so.
Indeed they can have a delightful surprise when they find something useful which they did not know they owned.
Those who never have to change house become indiscriminate collectors of what can only be described as clutter.
They leave un- wanted objects in drawers, cupboards and attics for years, in the belief that they may one day need just those very things.
As they grow old, people also accumulate belongings for two other reasons, lack of physical and mental energy, both of which are essential in turning out and throwing away, and sentiment.
Things owned for a long time are full of associations with the past, perhaps with relatives who are dead, and so they gradually acquire a value beyond their true worth.
Some things are collected deliberately in the home in an attempt to avoid waste.
Among these I would list string and brown paper, kept by thrifty people when a parcel has been opened, to save buying these two requisites.
Collecting small items can easily become a mania.
I know someone who always cuts out from newspapers sketches of model clothes that she would like to buy, if she had the money.
As she is not rich, the chances that she will ever be able to afford such purchases are remote; but she is never sufficiently strongrminded to be able to stop the practice.
It is a harmless habit, but it litters up her desk to such an extent that every time she opens it, loose bits of paper fall out in every direction.
Collecting as a serious hobby is quite different and has many advantages.
It provides relaxation for leisure hours, as just looking at one's treasures is always a joy.
One does not have to go outside for amusement, since the collection is housed at home.
Whatever it consists of , stamps, records, first editions of books, china, glass, antique furniture, pictures, model cars, stuffed birds, toy animals,there is always something to do in connection with it, from finding the right place for the latest addition to verifying facts in reference books.
This hobby educates one not only in the chosen subject, but also in general matters which have some bearing on it.
There are also other benefits.
One wants to meet like-minded collectors, to get advice, to compare notes, to exchange articles, toshow off the latest find.
So one's circle of friends grows.
Soon the hobby leads to travel, perhaps to a meeting in another town, possibly a trip abroad in search of a rare specimen, for collectors are not confined to any one country.
Over the years one may well become an authority on one's hobby and will very probably be asked to give informal talks to little gatherings and then, if successful, to larger audiences.
In this way self-confidence grows, first from mastering a subject, then from being able to talk about it.
Collecting, by occupying spare time so constructively, makes a person contented, with no time for boredom.
Book III Lesson 60
The importance of PunctualityPunctuality is a necessary habit in all public affairs of a civilized society.
Without it, nothing could ever be brought to a conclusion; everything would be in a state of chaos.
Only in a sparsely- populated rural community is it possible to disregard it.
In ordinary living there can be some tolerance of unpunctuality.
The intellectual, who is working on some abstruse problem, has everything coordinated and organized for the matter in hand.
He is therefore forgiven, if late for a dinner party.
But people are often reproached for unpunctuality when their only fault is cutting things fine.
It is hard for energetic, quick-minded people to waste time, so they are often tempted to finish a job before setting out to keep an appointment.
If no accidents occur on the way, like punctured tyres, diversions of traffic, sudden descent of fog, they will be on time.
They are often more industrious, useful citizens than those who are never late.
The over-punctual can be as much a trial to others as the unpunctual.
The guest who arrives half an hour too soon is the greatest nuisance.
Some friends of my family had this irritating habit.
The only thing to do was ask them to come half an hour later than the other guests.
Then they arrived just when we wanted them.
If you are catching a train, it is always better to be comfortably early than even a fraction of a minute too late.
Although being early may mean wasting a little time, this will be less than if you miss the train and have to wait an hour or more for the next one; and you avoid the frustration of arriving at the very moment when the train is drawing out of the station and being unable to get onit.
An even harder situation is to be on the platform in good time for a train and still to see it go off without you.
Such an experience befell a certain young girl the first time she was travelling alone.
She entered the station twenty minutes before the train was due, since her parents had impressed upon her that it would be unforgivable to miss it and cause the friends with whom she was going to stay to make two journeys to meet her.
She gave her luggage to a porter and showed him her ticket.
To her horror he said that she was two hours too soon.
She felt in her handbag for the piece of paper on which her father had written down all the details of the journey and give it to the porter.
He agreed that a train did come into the station at the time on the paper and that it did stop, but only to take on water, not passengers.
The girl asked to see a timetable, feeling sure that her father could not have made such a mistake.
The porter went to fetch one and arrived back with the stationmaster, who produced it with a flourish and pointed out a microscopic 'o' beside the time of the arrival of the train at his station; this little 'o' indicated that the train only stopped for water.
Just as that moment the train came into the station.
The girl, tears streaming down her face, begged to be allowed to slip into the guard's van.
But the stationmaster was adamant: rules could not be broken.
And she had to watch that train disappear towards her destination while she was left behind.
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