Goldfish Ghost Download Epub Mobi Pdf Fb2
Agathe Thies
Wizards released two free ebooks this week containing the Uncharted Realms stories for Battle for Zendikar and Magic Origins. Be sure to head over to the mothership to download your copies. The files are .epub but can easily be converted to .mobi with a free online converter for Kindle owners.
As for individual cards, Bring to Light is the biggest winner of the week, increasing 179 percent to $7.70 on the back of LSV posting a Modern Gifts Ungiven / Bring to Light list on the mothership. While I was trying to break Bring to Light before it was cool, I'm happy to see the power of the card being recognized by the community. If you bought in on spec while these were just-above-bulk, I'd look at moving them ASAP because Bring to Light will need to immediately break into Modern or have a strong Pro Tour showing to maintain its current price.
Speaking of selling cards during presales, someone asked me this week about shorting Magic cards and as far as I can tell the easiest (and maybe the only) way of doing this is during spoiler season. In theory you can order a card from a vendor (for example, Bring to Light at $0.99), sell the card as a "presale" on eBay after it spikes (like Bring to Light at $7.70), wait until you get the cards in the mail, then immediately send them out to the buyer. Basically, short selling is the definition of presales, since no one can access the cards until the release date. While there is risk in this plan (what happens if the vendor cancels your preorders?), it is fairly minimal assuming you use reliable vendors.
Need full art lands? How about 80? With 80 full art lands, the Battle for Zendikar Fat Pack is a great deal. It also comes with 9 boosters, a spindown, two deck boxes and the fat pack box itself. Great value for $40! Pre-order Battle for Zendikar Fat Packs on eBay today!
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Various accounts having appeared from time totime of my early life and adventures, and I myselfhaving published thirty years ago stories of the severalcampaigns in which I took part, and having written laterabout particular episodes, I have thought it right to bringthe whole together in a single complete story; and to tellthe tale, such as it is, anew. I have therefore not onlysearched my memory, but have most carefully verified myfacts from the records which I possess. I have tried, ineach part of the quarter-century in which this tale lies, toshow the point of view appropriate to my years, whetheras a child, a schoolboy, a cadet, a subaltern, awar-correspondent, or a youthful politician. If these opinionsconflict with those now generally accepted, they must betaken merely as representing a phase in my early life, andnot in any respect, except where the context warrants, asmodern pronouncements.
When I survey this work as a whole I find I have drawna picture of a vanished age. The character of society, thefoundations of politics, the methods of war, the outlook ofyouth, the scale of values, are all changed, and changedto an extent I should not have believed possible in so shorta space without any violent domestic revolution. I cannotpretend to feel that they are in all respects changed for thebetter. I was a child of the Victorian era, when the structureof our country seemed firmly set, when its position in tradeand on the seas was unrivalled, and when the realizationof the greatness of our Empire and of our duty to preserve itwas ever growing stronger. In those days the dominantforces in Great Britain were very sure of themselves and of10their doctrines. They thought they could teach the worldthe art of government, and the science of economics. Theywere sure they were supreme at sea and consequently safeat home. They rested therefore sedately under theconvictions of power and security. Very different is theaspect of these anxious and dubious times. Full allowancefor such changes should be made by friendly readers.
When does one first begin to remember? When do the waving lights andshadows of dawning consciousness cast their print upon the mind of achild? My earliest memories are Ireland. I can recall scenes andevents in Ireland quite well, and sometimes dimly, even people. Yet Iwas born on November 30, 1874, and I left Ireland early in the year1879. My father had gone to Ireland as secretary to his father, theDuke of Marlborough, appointed Lord-Lieutenant by Mr. Disraeli in 1876.We lived in a house called 'The Little Lodge,' about a stone's throwfrom the Viceregal. Here I spent nearly three years of childhood. Ihave clear and vivid impressions of some events. I remember mygrandfather, the Viceroy, unveiling the Lord Gough statue in 1878. Agreat black crowd, scarlet soldiers on horseback, strings pulling awaya brown shiny sheet, the old Duke, the formidable grandpapa, talkingloudly to the crowd. I recall even a phrase he used: 'and with awithering volley he shattered the enemy's line'. I quite understoodthat he was speaking about war and fighting and that a 'volley' meantwhat the black-coated soldiers (Riflemen) used to do with loud bangs sooften in the Phoenix Park where I was taken for my morning walks.This, I think, is my first coherent memory.
In one of these years we paid a visit to Emo Park, the seat of LordPortarlington, who was explained to me as a sort of uncle. Of thisplace I can give very clear descriptions, though I have never beenthere since I was four or four and a half. The central point in mymemory is a tall white stone tower which we reached after aconsiderable drive. I was told it had been blown up by OliverCromwell. I understood definitely that he had blown up all sorts ofthings and was therefore a very great man.
My nurse, Mrs. Everest, was nervous about the Fenians. I gatheredthese were wicked people and there was no end to what they would do ifthey had their way. On one occasion when I was out riding on mydonkey, we thought we saw a long dark procession of Feniansapproaching. I am sure now it must have been the Rifle Brigade out fora route march. But we were all very much alarmed, particularly thedonkey, who expressed his anxiety by kicking. I was thrown off and hadconcussion of the brain. This was my first introduction to Irishpolitics!
In the Phoenix Park there was a great round clump of trees with a houseinside it. In this house there lived a personage styled the ChiefSecretary or the Under Secretary, I am not clear which. But at anyrate from this house there came a man called Mr. Burke. He gave me adrum. I cannot remember what he looked like, but I remember the drum.Two years afterwards when we were back in17England, they told me he had been murdered by the Feniansin this same Phoenix Park we used to walk about in everyday. Everyone round me seemed much upset about it,and I thought how lucky it was the Fenians had not got mewhen I fell off the donkey.
My mother took no part in these impositions, but shegave me to understand that she approved of them and shesided with the Governess almost always. My picture ofher in Ireland is in a riding habit, fitting like a skin andoften beautifully spotted with mud. She and my fatherhunted continually on their large horses; and sometimesthere were great scares because one or the other did notcome back for many hours after they were expected.
I revisited 'The Little Lodge' when lecturing on theBoer War in Dublin in the winter of 1900. I rememberedwell that it was a long low white building with green shuttersand verandahs, and that there was a lawn around it aboutas big as Trafalgar Square and entirely surrounded byforests. I thought it must have been at least a mile from20the Viceregal. When I saw it again, I was astonished tofind that the lawn was only about sixty yards across, that theforests were little more than bushes, and that it only tooka minute to ride to it from the Viceregal where I wasstaying.
My next foothold of memory is Ventnor. I loved Ventnor.Mrs. Everest had a sister who lived at Ventnor. Herhusband had been nearly thirty years a prison warder. Boththen and in later years he used to take me for long walksover the Downs or through the Landslip. He told memany stories of mutinies in the prisons and how he hadbeen attacked and injured on several occasions by theconvicts. When I first stayed at Ventnor we were fightinga war with the Zulus. There were pictures in the papersof these Zulus. They were black and naked, with spearscalled 'assegais' which they threw very cleverly. Theykilled a great many of our soldiers, but judging from thepictures, not nearly so many as our soldiers killed of them.I was very angry with the Zulus, and glad to hear they werebeing killed; and so was my friend, the old prison warder.After a while it seemed that they were all killed, becausethis particular war came to an end and there were no morepictures of Zulus in the papers and nobody worried anymore about them.
Just about this time also there happened the 'Tay BridgeDisaster.' A whole bridge tumbled down while a train wasrunning on it in a great storm, and all the passengers weredrowned. I supposed they could not get out of the carriagewindows in time. It would be very hard to open one ofthose windows where you have to pull up a long strap beforeyou can let it down. No wonder they were all drowned.All my world was very angry that the Government shouldhave allowed a bridge like this to tumble down. It seemedto me they had been very careless, and I did not wonder atall that the people said they would vote against them forbeing so lazy and neglectful as to let such a shocking thinghappen.
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