If commitments become too much, the College provides several resources for students struggling academically or looking to improve study skills, regardless of their background or GPA. One of these resources is the Center for Teaching and Learning (CTL), which includes the Writing Project, the Quantitative Reasoning Program, and the Baldwin Program for Academic Development.
The collective GPA of female athletes is slightly higher than that of the general female population, while male athletes are just a shade below the male average. According to a Bowdoin Academic Affairs web page, at the end of the fall 2005 semester the cumulative GPA of student athletes, including members of club teams, was 3.22, almost indentical to the all-student cumulative GPA of 3.23. The College has not updated these statistics since 2005.
As a local official in London said: ''The situation in the West End is fairly critical. The more tourists we get, the more crooks we have on the streets. They take advantage of Londoners' honest reputation, palm tourists off with substandard or counterfeit goods, and end up by giving the city a bad name.''
For many, the rip-off begins as soon as they set foot in Britain. Unlicensed cab drivers, in sedans rather than the familiar London black taxi, pounce on tourists at Heathrow Airport and at major railway terminals. Victoria Station, with its direct rail link from Gatwick Airport, is a favorite haunt.
Droves of illegal street traders, working the main shopping streets of the West End, parts of Kensington, and near the Tower of London, are another menace. Often trading out of cardboard boxes, milk crates, or suitcases, they specialize in shoddy or counterfeit goods.
Under present government constraints, the authorities have neither the staff nor the resources to get illegal traders off the streets altogether. Even when they bring a case to court, the fines imposed are a fraction of a trader's daily earnings.
A spokeswoman for the London Tourist Board, Ylva French, explains: ''The magistrates seem to take the view that these traders are basically nice people who are out of work and trying to earn a living. They don't see it as a crime, and as a result, police tend to feel there is little incentive for them to act.
My house is conveniently situated three-quarters of the way up the hill, where I can catch the occasional glorious sunset, especially on summer evenings. However, it is not so close to the summit that it does not have a flood-protecting dry pond above my back yard, with a storm drain in my back yard to boot. In wet weather, my sump pump is very active. Beneath my house on the street, there are more storm drains (the streets are littered with them), and at the bottom of the hill two large ponds threaten to overcome the through-road at its lowest adjacent point.
Our military papers had been given us several days before.Among these was an official- looking document to be presented to the mayor ofany town or village near which we might be compelled to land. It contained anextract from the law concerning aviators, and the duty toward them of thecivilian and military authorities. In another was an itemized list of theamounts which might be exacted by farmers for damage to growing crops: so muchfor an atterrissage in a field of sugar-beets, so much for wheat, etc. Besidesthese, we had a book of detailed instructions as to our duty in case ofemergencies of every conceivable kind — among others, the course of actionto be followed if we should be compelled to land in an enemy country. At firstsight this seemed an unnecessary precaution; but we remembered the experienceof one of our French comrades at B—, who started confidently off on hisfirst cross-country flight. He lost his way and did not realize how far astrayhe had gone until he found him- self under fire from German anti-aircraftbatteries on the Belgian front.
I passed over the old cathedral town of B— at fifteenhundred metres. Many a pleasant afternoon had we spent there, walking throughits narrow, crooked streets, or lounging on the banks of the canal. Thecathedral too was a favorite haunt. I loved the fine spaciousness of it.Looking down on it now, it seemed no larger than a toy cathedral in a toy town,such as one sees in the shops of Paris. The streets were empty, for it was notyet seven o'clock. Strips of shadow crossed them where taller roofs cut off thesunshine. A toy train, which I could have put nicely into my fountain-pen case, was pulling into a station no larger than a wren's house. The Greeks calledtheir gods "derisive." No doubt they realized how small they looked to them,and how insignificant this little world of affairs must have appeared from highOlympus.
I had no more than started on my southwest course, as itseemed to me, when I saw the spires and the red-roofed houses of C—, and,a kilometre or so from the outskirts, the barracks and hangars of the aviationschool where I was to make the first landing. I reduced the gas, and, with themotor purring gently, began a long, gradual descent. It was interesting towatch the change in the appearance of the country beneath me as I lost height.Checkerboard patterns of brown and green grew larger and larger. Shiningthreads of silver became rivers and canals, tiny green shrubs became trees,individual aspects of houses emerged. Soon I could see people going about thestreets and laundry-maids hanging out the family washing in the back gardens. Ieven came low enough to witness a minor household tragedy — a mothervigorously spanking a small boy. Hearing the whir of my motor, she stopped inthe midst of the process, whereupon the youngster very naturally took advantageof his opportunity to cut and run for it. Drew doubted my veracity when I toldhim about this. He called me an aerial eavesdropper and said that I ought to beashamed to go buzzing over towns at such low altitudes, frightening housemaids,disorganizing domestic penal institutions, and generally disturbing the privacyof respectable French citizens. But I was unrepentant, for I knew that onesmall boy in France was thinking of me with joy. To have escaped maternaljustice with the assistance of an aviator would be an event of glorious memoryto him. How vastly more worth while such a method of escape, and how jubilantTom Sawyer would have been over such an opportunity when his horrified warning,"Look behind you, aunt!" had lost efficacy.
"But, master," said I, "there is, after all, color in words.Don't you remember how delighted you were with the name of a little town wepassed through on the way to Orleans? R—? You were haunted by it and saidit was like the purple note of an organ.."
We were haunted by it, too, for we were going to that verytown. We would see it long before our arrival — a cluster of quaint oldhouses lying in the midst of pleasant fields, with roads curving toward it fromthe north and south, as though they were glad to pass through so delightful aplace. Drew was for taking a leisurely route to the eastward, so that we mightlook at some villages which lay some distance off our course. I wanted to flyby compass in a direct line, without following my map very closely. We hadplanned to fly together, and were the more eager to do this because of anargument we had had about the relative speed of our machines. He was certainthat his was the faster. I knew that, with mine, I could fly circles aroundhim. As we were not able to agree on the course, we decided to postpone therace until we started on the homeward journey. Therefore, after we had passedover the town, he waved his hand, bent off to the northeast, and was soon outof sight.
I recalled, for the first time in many years, my earliestinterpretations of the meanings of all the phenomena of the heavens. Two oldjanitor saints had charge of the floor of the skies. One of them was a jollyold man who liked boys, and always kept the sky swept clean and blue. The othertook a sour delight in shirking his duties, so that it might rain and spoil allour fun. Perhaps it was Drew's sense of loneliness and helplessness so far fromearth, which made me think of winds and clouds in friendly human terms. Howeverthat may be, these reveries, hardly worthy of a military air- man, wereabruptly broken into.
The men who founded these movements have plenty in common. Each discovered an untapped political market. Each reached into reserves of public rage that more conventional leaders had not registered\u2014or preferred to ignore. Each connected powerfully with people\u2019s intimate sense of identity, and converted these feelings into engines for political engagement. Each ignited devotion in their followers, a devotion so ardent that it outlived them. And each remade their country\u2019s politics for a generation or more.
It was a group of about 12 of us and when we arrived at the quarry we headed to the shed where he hung himself and there was chair and noose in it. None of us really believed in anything to do with the supernatural, so we locked a couple of our buddies in it for a couple minutes and nothing seemed to happen. After that we cut down the noose and took the chair and headed back to town. This is my only account of experiencing or really trying to experience something eerie or haunted and I am really not sure if there is such thing.
I may not be a big believer in ghosts or other aspects of the Conley House but I, like most people, have demons that lurk inside me. I have aspects of m life that have always haunted me and continue to haunt me to this day. The area of my life that has always haunted me is my fear of failure. I have always been haunted by the fact that I may be letting people down or not achieving my own personal goals. The fear that I may not be succeeding in everything that I was meant to accomplish. There are so many ways of life that I feel I could be doing better at. I am not sure why this fear has always nagged away at me. I do pretty well in school, I have never gotten into serious trouble, and I have a great support system around me. Still though I think about it constantly and I probably will for the rest of my life. It is like a small gnat buzzing around your ear. It is small, minute, and should not be impactful. It is though constantly with you, bother you, and consuming you. 781b155fdc