Introduction to JavaScript Programming with XML and PHP 1st Edition Drake Solutions Manual - Full Version Is Ready For Free Download
Introduction to JavaScript Programming with XML and PHP 1st Edition Drake Solutions Manual - Full Version Is Ready For Free Download
_____ Follow the link below to get your download now _____
https://testbankfan.com/product/introduction-to-javascript-
programming-with-xml-and-php-1st-edition-drake-solutions-
manual/
https://testbankfan.com/product/introduction-to-javascript-
programming-with-xml-and-php-1st-edition-drake-test-bank/
https://testbankfan.com/product/comprehensive-introduction-to-object-
oriented-programming-with-java-1st-edition-wu-solutions-manual/
https://testbankfan.com/product/introduction-to-programming-with-
java-2nd-edition-dean-solutions-manual/
https://testbankfan.com/product/world-history-before-1600-the-
development-of-early-civilization-volume-i-5th-edition-upshur-test-
bank/
https://testbankfan.com/product/living-religions-10th-edition-fisher-
test-bank/
https://testbankfan.com/product/essentials-of-nursing-leadership-and-
management-6th-edition-weiss-test-bank/
https://testbankfan.com/product/criminal-law-1st-edition-russell-
brown-test-bank/
https://testbankfan.com/product/contemporary-marketing-3rd-edition-
boone-solutions-manual/
International Business The Challenges of Globalization 8th
Edition Wild Test Bank
https://testbankfan.com/product/international-business-the-challenges-
of-globalization-8th-edition-wild-test-bank/
Checkpoint Solutions
6.6 A CGI script is a program that tells the computer what to do with form data that is sent to it. It is
stored on a web server, in a cgi-bin folder.
6.7 All the names are different. For a radio button group to work, each button must have the same name as
the others.
6.8 function checkIt()
{ document.getElementById("agree").checked = true }
6.9 Textboxes can only have widths configured; textarea boxes can be set to however many rows
and columns are desired.
6.10
<html><head><title>Checkpoint 6.10</title>
<script>
function firstName(name)
{
var fname = document.getElementById(name).value;
document.getElementById('f_name').innerHTML = fname;
}
function lastName(name)
{
var lname = document.getElementById(name).value;
document.getElementById('l_name').innerHTML = lname;
}
</script>
</head>
<body>
<p>Enter your first name:<br />
<input type="text" name="firstname" size = "30" maxlength = "28"
id="firstname">
<input type ="button" onclick="firstName('firstname')" value =
"ok"></button></p>
<p>Enter your last name:<br />
<input type="text" name="lastname" size = "30" maxlength = "29"
id="lastname">
<input type ="button" onclick="lastName('lastname')" value =
"ok"></button></p>
<h3>Your first name: <span id = "f_name"> </span> </h3>
<h3>Your last name: <span id = "l_name"> </span> </h3>
</body></html>
6.11
<form name="myform" method="post" enctype="text/plain" action =
"mailto:[email protected]?Here is the requested
information&[email protected]">
6.12 Each control in the email is identified by its name. The user's selection is listed by the form
control's value.
Checkpoint for Section 6.3
6.13 answers will vary
6.14 add to web page <body>:
<input type ="hidden" name ="sides" id ="sides" value = "add lemon wedge
with salmon, ketchup with fries, dressing with salad " />
6.17
<script>
function showWord(pword)
{
var username = document.getElementById(pword).value;
var nameLength = username.length;
var charOne = username.substr(0,1);
var charEnd = username.substr((nameLength - 1),1);
var middleLength = nameLength - 2;
var middle = "";
for (i = 0; i <= middleLength; i++)
middle = middle + "*";
var word = charOne + middle + charEnd;
alert(word);
}
</script>
</head>
<body>
<h3> Enter a password in the box below. </h3>
<p><input type="password" name="user_pwrd" id="passwrd" size =
""/>
<input type ="button" onclick="showWord('passwrd')" value =
"ok"></button></p>
</body>
6.18
<script>
function checkAmp(pword)
{
var checkSpecial = false;
var pword = document.getElementById(pword).value;
var nameLength = pword.length;
for (i = 1; i <= (nameLength - 1); i++)
{
if (pword.charCodeAt(i) == 38)
checkSpecial = true;
}
if (checkSpecial == false)
alert("You don't have an ampersand (&) in your password.");
else
alert("Ampersand (&) found!");
}
</script>
</head>
<body>
<h3> Enter a password in the box below. </h3>
<p><input type="password" name="user_pwrd" id="passwrd" size = ""/>
<input type ="button" onclick="checkAmp('passwrd')" value =
"ok"></button></p>
</body>
The hardships which the inhabitants of this valley cheerfully undergo ought
to serve as a lesson of diligence indeed. The whole grass-bearing soil is
divided among them. The more prosperous have a cow or more of their
own, by the produce of which they live; others take in cows from Innsbruck
and Hall to graze. The butter they make becomes an article of merchandise,
the transport of which over the mountain paths provides a hard and
precarious livelihood for a yet poorer class; the pay is about a halfpenny per
lb. per day, and to make the wage eke out a man will carry a hundred and a
woman fifty to seventy pounds through all weathers and over dangerous
paths, sleeping by night on the hard ground, the chance of a bundle of hay
in winter being a luxury; and one of their snow-covered peaks is with a
certain irony named the Federbett. They make some six or seven cwt. of
cheese in the year, but this is kept entirely for home consumption.
The care of these cattle involves a labour which only the strongest
constitution could stand—a continual climbing of mountains in the cold,
often in the dark, during great part of the year allowing scarcely four or five
hours for sleep. Nor is this their only industry. They contrive also to grow
barley and flax; this never ripens, yet they make from it a kind of yarn,
which finds a ready sale in Innsbruck; they weave from it too a coarse linen,
which helps to clothe them, together with the home-spun wool of their
sheep. Also, by an incredible exercise of patience, they manage to heap up
and support a sufficient quantity of earth round the rough and stony soil of
their valley to set potatoes, carrots, and other roots. Notwithstanding all
these hardships, they are generally a healthy race, remarkable for their
endurance, frugality, and love of home. Neither does their hard life make
them neglect the improvement of the mind; nowhere are schools more
regularly attended, although the little children have many of them an hour
or two’s walk through the snow. The church is equally frequented; so that if
the great cold be sent, as the legend teaches, as a chastisement,3 the people
seem to have had grace given them to turn it to good account.
We had parted from the Zillerthal, and had once more taken our places in
the railway carriage at Jenbach for a short stage to reach Kundl,1 as a base
of operations for visiting the Wildschönau, as well as the country on the
other side of the Inn. The entry was effected with the haste usual at small
stations, where the advent of a traveller, much more of a party of tourists, is
an exceptional event. The adjustment of our bags and rugs was greatly
facilitated by the assistance of the only occupant of the compartment into
which we were thrust; and when we had settled down and expressed our
thanks for his urbanity, I observed that he eyed us with an amused but not
unpleasant scrutiny. At last his curiosity overcame his reticence. ‘I have
frequent occasion to travel this way to Munich and Vienna,’ he said, ‘and I
do not remember ever to have fallen in with any strangers starting from
Jenbach.’
The conversation so opened soon revealed that our new friend, though
spending most of his time in the Bavarian and Austrian capitals,
nevertheless retained all a mountaineer’s fondness for the Tirolese land,
which had given him birth some seventy years before. He was greatly
interested in our exploration of the Zillerthal, but much annoyed that we
were leaving instead of entering it; had it been the other way, he said, he
would have afforded us an acquaintance with local customs such as, he was
sure, no other part of Europe could outvie. I assured him I had been
disappointed at not coming across them during our brief visit, but fully
hoped on some future occasion to have better success. He warmly
recommended me not to omit the attempt, and for my encouragement cited
a local adage testifying to the attractions of the valley—
He seemed to know the people well, having lived much among them in his
younger days, and claimed for them—perhaps with some little partiality—
the character of being industrious, temperate, moral, and straightforward,
even above the other dwellers in Tirol; and no less, of being physically the
finest race. Their pure bracing mountain air, the severe struggle which
nature wages with them in their cultivation of the fruits of the soil, and the
hardy athletic pursuits with which they vary their round of agricultural
labour, tend to maintain and ever invigorate this original stock of
healthfulness. Their athletic games are indeed an institution to which they
owe much, and which they keep up with a devotion only second to that with
which they cultivate their religious observances. Every national and social
festival is celebrated with these games. The favourite is the
scheibenschiessen, or shooting at a mark, for accuracy in which they are
celebrated in common with the inhabitants of all other districts of the
country, but are beaten by none; their stutze (short-barrelled rifle) they
regard more in the light of a friend and companion than a weapon, and
dignify it with the household name of the bread-winner. Wrestling is
another favourite sport; to be the champion wrestler of the hamlet is a
distinction which no inhabitant of the Zillerthal would barter for gold. The
best ‘Haggler,’ ‘Mairraffer,’ and ‘Roblar’—three denominations of
wrestlers—are regarded somewhat in the light of a superior order of
persons, and command universal respect. In wilder times, it is true, this ran
into abuse; and some who had attained excellence in an art so dangerous
when misapplied betook themselves to a life of violence and freebooting;
but this has entirely passed away now, and anything like a highway robbery
is unheard of. The most chivalrous rules guard the decorum of the game,
which every bystander feels it a point of honour to maintain; the use even of
the stossring, a stout metal ring for the little finger, by which a telling and
sometimes disfiguring blow may be given by a dexterous hand, is
discouraged. It is still worn, however, and prized more than as a mere
ornament—as a challenge of the wearer’s power to wield it if he choose, or
if provoked to show his prowess. Running in races—which, I know not
why, they call springen—obtains favour at some seasons of the year. At
bowls and skittles, too, they are famous hands; and in their passion for the
games have originated a number of fantastic stories of how the fairies and
wild men of the woods indulge in them too. Many a herdsman, on his long
and solitary watch upon the distant heights, gives to the noises of nature
which he has heard, but could not account for, an origin which lives in the
imagination of those to whom he recounts it on his return home; and his
fancies are recorded as actual events. But that the spirits play at skittles, and
with gold and silver balls, is further confirmed by peasants who have lost
their way in mists and snow-storms, and whose troubled dreams have made
pleasant stories. One of these, travelling with his pedlar’s pack, sought
refuge from the night air in the ruined castle of Starkenberg, the proud
stronghold of a feudal family, second only in importance to the
Rottenburgers, and equally brought low by Friedrich mit der leeren Tasche.
The pedlar was a bold wrestler, and felt no fear of the airy haunters of
ruined castles. He made a pillow of his pack, and laid him down to sleep as
cosily as if at home, in the long dank grass; nevertheless, when the clock of
the distant village church—to whose striking he had been listening hour by
hour with joy, as an earnest that by the morning light he would know how
to follow its guiding to the inhabited locality it denoted—sang out the hour
of midnight, twelve figures in ancient armour stalked into the hall, and set
themselves to play at bowls, for which they were served with skulls. The
pedlar was a famous player, and nothing daunted, took up a skull, and set
himself to play against them, and beat them all; then there was a shout of
joy, such as mortal ears had never heard, and the twelve spirits declared
they were released. Scarcely had they disappeared, when ten more spirits,
whom the pedlar concluded like the last to be retainers of the mighty
Starkenberger of old, entered by different doors, which they carefully
locked behind them, and then bringing our hero the keys, begged him to
open the doors each with the right one. The pedlar was a shrewd fellow; and
though doors, keys, and spirits were each alike of their kind, his observation
had been so accurate that he opened each with the right key without
hesitation, whereupon the ten spirits declared themselves released too. Then
came in the Evil One, furious with the pedlar, who was setting free all his
captives, and swore he would have him in their stead. But the pedlar
demanded fair play, and offered to stake his freedom on a game with his
Arch-Impiety. The pedlar won, and the demon withdrew in ignominy; but
the released spirits came round their deliverer, and loaded him with as much
gold and valuable spoil as he could carry.
This story seemed to me to belong to a class not unfrequently met with, but
yet differing from the ordinary run of legends on this subject, inasmuch as
the spirits, who were generally believed to be bound to earth in penance,
were released by no act of Christian virtue, and without any appeal to faith;
and I could not help asking my old friend if he did not think this very active
clever pedlar might have been one of those who according to his own
version had indulged in freebooting tendencies, and that having with a true
Zillerthaler’s tendencies pined to return to his native valley, he had invented
the tale to account for his accession of fortune, and the nature of his
possessions. I think my friend was a little piqued at my unmasking his hero,
but he allowed it was not an improbable solution for the origin of some
similar tales.
Prizes, he went on to tell me, are often set up for excellence in these games,
which are cherished as marks of honour, without any reference to their
intrinsic value. And so jealously is every distinction guarded, that a youth
may not wear a feather or the sprig of rosemary, bestowed by a beloved
hand, in his jaunty hat, unless he is capable of proving his right to it by his
pluck and muscular development.
Dancing is another favourite recreation, and is pursued with a zest which
makes it a healthful and useful exercise too. The Schnodahüpfl and the
Hosennagler are as dear to the Zillerthaler as the Bolera to the Andalusian
or the Jota to the Aragonese; like the Spanish Seguidillas, too, the
Zillerthalers accompany their dance with sprightly songs, which are often
directed to inciting each other not to flag.
The chief occasions for exercising these pastimes are the village festivals,
the Kirchtag, or anniversary of the Church consecration, the Carnival
season, weddings and baptisms, and the opening of the season for the
Scheibenschiessen; also the days of pilgrimages to various popular shrines;
and the Primizen and Sekundizen—the first Mass of their pastors, and its
fiftieth anniversary—general festivals all over Tirol.
A season of great enjoyment is the Carnival, which with them begins at the
Epiphany. Their great delight then is to go out in the dusk of evening, when
work is over, disguised in various fantastic dresses, and making their way
round from house to house, set the inmates guessing who they can be. As
they are very clever in arranging all the accessories of their assumed
character, changing their voice and mien, each visit is the occasion of the
most laughable mistakes. In the towns, the Carnival procession is generally
got up with no little taste and artistic skill. The arch-buffoon goes on ahead,
a loud and merry jingle of bells announcing his advent at every movement
of the horse he bestrides, collects the people out of every house. Then
follow, also mounted, a train of maskers, Turks, soldiers, gipsies, pirates;
and if there happen to be among them anyone representing a judge or
authority of any sort, he is always placed at the head of the tribe. In the
evening, their perambulations over, they assemble in the inn, where the
acknowledged wag of the locality reads a humorous diatribe, which touches
on all the follies and events, that can be anyhow made to wear a ridiculous
aspect, of the past year.
Melchior, thus appealed to, stands forward and sings his lay; and then
Balthazar; and then the three join in a chorus, in which certain hints are
given that as they come from so far some refreshment would be acceptable;
upon which the friendly peasant-wife calls them in, and regales them with
cakes she has prepared ready for the purpose, and sends them on their
mountain-way rejoicing. Possibly some such custom may have given rise to
the institution of our ‘Twelfth-cake.’ In the Œtzthal they go about with the
greeting, ‘Gelobt sei Jesus Christus zur Gömacht.’5 Another Tirolean
custom connected with Epiphany was the blessing of the stalls of the cattle
on the eve, in memory of the stable in which the Wise Men found the Holy
Family.
Their wedding fêtes seem to be among the most curious of all their
customs. My friend gave me a detailed account of one, between two
families of the better class of peasants, which he had attended some years
back; and he believed they were little changed since. It is regarded as an
occasion of great importance; and as soon as the banns had been asked in
church, the bridegroom went round with a chosen friend styled a
Hochzeitsbitter, to invite friends and relations to the marriage. The night
before the wedding (for which throughout Tirol a Thursday is chosen,
except in the Iselthal, where a preference for Monday prevails), there was a
great dance at the house of the bride, who from the moment the banns have
been asked is popularly called the Kanzel-Braut. ‘Rather, I should say,’ he
pursued, ‘it was in the barn; for though a large cottage, there was no room
that would contain the numbers of merry couples who flocked in, and even
the barn was so crowded, that the dancers could but make their way with
difficulty, and were continually tumbling over one another; but it was a
merry night, for all were in their local costume, and the pine-wood torches
shed a strange and festive glare over them. The next morning all were
assembled betimes. It was a bitterly cold day, but the snow-storm was
eagerly hailed, as it is reckoned a token that the newly-wedded pair will be
rich; we met first at the bride’s house for what they called the Morgensuppe,
a rough sort of hearty breakfast of roast meat, white bread, and sausages;
and while the elder guests were discussing it, many were hard at work again
dancing, and the young girls of the village were dressing up the bride—one
of the adornments de rigueur being a knot of streamers of scarlet leather
trimmed with gold lace, and blue arm-bands and hat-ribbons; these
streamers are thought by the simple people to be a cure for goitres, and are
frequently bound round them with that idea. At ten o’clock the first church
bell rang, when all the guests hastily assembled round the table, and drank
the health of the happy pair in a bowl from which they had first drank. Then
they ranged themselves into a procession, and marched towards the church,
the musicians leading the way. The nearest friends of the bridal pair were
styled “train-bearers,” and formed a sort of guard of honour round the bride,
walking bare-headed, their hats, tastily wreathed with flowers, in their
hands. The priest of the village walked by the bride on one side, her parents
on the other. She wore a wreath of rosemary—a plant greatly prized here, as
among the people of Spain and Italy, and considered typical of the Blessed
Virgin’s purity—in her hair; her holiday dress was confined by a girdle, and
she held her rosary in her hand. The bridegroom was almost as showily
dressed, and wore a crown of silver wire; beside him walked another priest,
and behind them came the host of the village inn, a worthy who holds a
kind of patriarchal position in our villages. He is always one of the most
important men of the place, generally owns the largest holding of land, and
drives one or two little trades besides attending to the welfare of his guests.
But more than this, he is for the most part a man of upright character and
pleasant disposition, and is often called to act as adviser and umpire in rural
complications.
‘The procession was closed by the friends and neighbours, walking two and
two, husband and wife together; and the church bells rang merrily through
the valley as it passed along.
‘The ceremonial in the church was accompanied with the best music the
locality could afford, the best singers from the neighbouring choirs lending
their voices. To add to the solemnity of the occasion, lighted tapers were
held by the bridal party at the Elevation; and it was amusing to observe how
the young people shunned a candle that did not burn brightly, as that is held
to be an omen of not getting married within the year. At the close of the
function, the priest handed round to them the Johannissegen, a cup of
spiced wine mixed with water, which he had previously blessed, probably
so called in memory of the miracle at the wedding-feast recorded in the
Gospel of that Apostle.
‘The band then struck up its most jocund air, and full of mirth the gladsome
party wended their way to the inn. After a light repast and a short dance,
and a blithesome Trutzlied, they passed on, according to custom, to the
next, and so on to all the inns within a radius of a few miles. This absorbed
about three or four hours; and then came the real wedding banquet, which
was a very solid and long affair—in fact, I think fresh dishes were being
brought in one after another for three or four hours more. Even in this there
was a memory of the Gospel narrative, for in token of their joy they keep
for the occasion a fatted calf, the whole of which is served up joint by joint,
not omitting the head; this was preceded by soup, and followed by a second
course of sweet dumplings, with fruit and the inevitable pickled cabbage,
which on this day is dignified with the title of Ehrenkraut. After this came a
pause; and the musicians, who had been playing their loudest hitherto, held
in too. The “best man” rose, and went through the formula of asking the
guests whether they were content with what had been set before them,
which of course was drowned in a tumult of applause. In a form, which
serves from generation to generation with slight change, he then went on to
remark that the good gifts of meat and drink of which they had partaken
came from the hand of God, and called forth the gratitude of the receiver,
adding, “Let us thank Him for them, and still more in that He has made us
reasonable beings, gifting us with faith, and not brutes or unbelievers. If we
turn to Him in this spirit, He will abide with us as with them of Cana in
Galilee. Therefore, let all anger and malice and evil speaking be put away
from us, who have just been standing before the most holy Sacrament, and
let us be united in the bonds of brotherly love, that His Blood may not have
been poured out for us in vain. And to you, dear friends, who have this day
been united with the grace-giving benediction of the Church, I commend
this union of heart and soul most of all, that the new family thus founded in
our midst may help to build up the living edifice of a people praising and
serving God, and that you walk in His way, and bring up children to serve
Him as our forefathers have ever done.” There was a good deal more in the
same strain; and this exhortation to holy living, from one of themselves, is
just a type of the intimate way in which religion enters into the life of the
people. His concluding wish for the well-being of the newly married was
followed by a loud “Our Father” and “Hail Mary” from the assembled
throng.
‘After this came a great number more dishes of edibles, but this time of a
lighter kind; among them liver and poultry, but chiefly fruits and sweets;
and among these many confections of curious devices, mostly with some
symbolical meaning. When these were nearly despatched, wine and brandy
were brought out by the host; and by this name you must understand the
master of the inn; for, true to the paternal character of which I have already
spoken, it is always his business to cater for and preside over bridal
banquets. At the same time the guests produced their presents, which go by
the name of Waisat, and all were set down in a circumstantial catalogue.
They are generally meted out with an open hand, and are a great help to the
young people in beginning their housekeeping.
‘The musicians, who only got hasty snatches of the good things passing
round, now began yet livelier strains, and the party broke up that the
younger members might give themselves to their favourite pastime,
dancing; and well enough they looked, the lads in brilliant red double-
breasted waistcoats, their short black leather breeches held up with
embroidered belts, and their well-formed high-pointed hats with jaunty
brim, going through the intricate evolutions, each beating the time heartily,
first on his thighs and then on his feet—schuhplatteln they call it—and
followed through the mazy figures by his diandl (damsel), in daintily fitting
satin bodice, and short but ample skirt.
‘The older people still lingered over the table, and looked on at the dance,
which they follow with great interest; but there is not a great deal of
drinking, and it is seldom enough, even in the midst of an occasion for such
exceptional good cheer, that any excess is committed. A taste for brandy—
the poor brandy of their own manufacture—is however, I confess, a
weakness of the Zillerthalers. The necessity for occasionally having
recourse to stimulants results from the severity of the climate during part of
the year, and the frequently long exposure to the mountain air which their
calling requires of them. At the same time, anything like a confirmed
drunkard is scarcely known among them. Its manufacture affords to many
an occupation; and its use to all, of both sexes, is a national habit. They
make it out of barley, juniper, and numbers of other berries (which they
wander collecting over all the neighbouring alps), as well as rye, potatoes,
and other roots—in fact, almost anything. Every commercial bargain, every
operation in the field, every neighbourly discussion, every declaration of
affection even, is made under its afflatus. An offer of a glass of the cordial
will often make up a long-harboured quarrel, a refusal to share one is taken
to be a studied affront; in fact, this zutrinken, as they call it, comes into
every act and relation of life. In the moderate bounds within which they
keep its use, it is undeniably a great boon to them; and many a time it has
been the saving of life in the mountains to the shepherd and the milk-maid,
the snow-bound labourer or retarded pedlar.’
I was curious to know what customs the other valley had to replace those of
the Ziller. My friend informed me they were very similar, only the
Zillerthalers were celebrated for their attachment to and punctual
observance of them. He had once attended a wedding in the Grödnerthal
which was very similar to the one he had already described, yet had some
distinct peculiarities. Though a little out of place, I may as well bring in his
account of it here. There, the betrothal is called der Handschlag (lit. the
hand-clasp), and it is always performed on a Saturday. The fathers of the
bride and bridegroom and other nearest relations are always present as
witnesses; and if the bride does not cry at the projected parting, it is said she
will have many tears to shed during her married life. The first time the
banns are asked it is not considered ‘the thing’ for the betrothed to be
present, and they usually go to church on that occasion in some
neighbouring village; on the second Sunday they are expected to appear in
state, the bridegroom wearing his holiday clothes and a nosegay in his hat
or on his right breast. The bride always wears the local costume, a broadish
brimmed green hat, a scarlet boddice and full black skirt, though this is now
only worn on such occasions; on the day of the wedding, to this is added a
broad black satin ribbon round her head, and round her waist a leather
girdle with a number of useful articles in plated copper hanging from it. On
each side are arranged red and green streamers with very great nicety, and
no change of fashion is suffered in their position; she is expected to wear a
grave mien and modest deportment; this is particularly enjoined. The guests
are also expected to don the popular costume; the girls green, the married
women black hats. On the way to the church the bridegroom’s father and
his nearest neighbour came forward, and with many ceremonies asked the
bride of her friends, and she went crying coyly with them. After the church
ceremony, which concludes as in Zillerthal with the cup of S.
Johannessegen, the bridesmaids hand in a basket decked with knots of
ribbon, containing offerings for the priests and servers, and a wreath, which
is fastened round the priest’s arm who leads the bride out of church. The
visit to the neighbouring inn follows; but at the wedding feast guests come
in in masquerading dresses bringing all manner of comical presents. The
dance here lasts till midnight, when the happy pair are led home by their
friends to an accompaniment of music, for which they have a special
melody. The next day again there are games, and the newly married go in
procession with their friends to bear home the trousseau and wedding gifts,
among which is always a bed and bedding. On their way back beggars are
allowed to bar the way at intervals, who must be bought off with alms. On
the Sunday following the bride is expected again to appear at church in the
local costume, and in the afternoon all the guests of the wedding day again
gather in the inn to present their final offering of good wishes and blessings.
Girls who are fond of cats, they say, are sure to marry early; perhaps an
evidence that household virtues are appreciated in them by the men; but of
men, the contrary is predicated, showing that the other sex is expected to
display hardihood in the various mountaineering and other out-door
occupations.6
The neighbourhood of Thierberg has a story which I think also has its
source in mining memories. ‘On the way between Altbach and Thierbach
you pass two houses bearing the name of “beim Thaler.” In olden time there
lived here a peasant of moderate means, who owned several head of cattle;
Moidl, the maid, whose duty it was to take them out to pasture on the sunny
Welcome to our website – the perfect destination for book lovers and
knowledge seekers. We believe that every book holds a new world,
offering opportunities for learning, discovery, and personal growth.
That’s why we are dedicated to bringing you a diverse collection of
books, ranging from classic literature and specialized publications to
self-development guides and children's books.
testbankfan.com