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Class Notea Cse Sus Among Us
Class Notea Cse Sus Among Us
For example, an order of 2 means the program looks at pairs of letters, an order of
3 means triplets of letters and so on. The software can regurgitate random text
that is controlled by the proportion of characters. The results can be quite
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text, 2nd order produces gibberish - 6th order and above can often be meaninglessly
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Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
And now, instead of mounting barded steeds
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
500
No of chars
(less than 3500)
5
Order
(2 - 20)
Show frequency table
Fog everywhere. Fog up the river, where it flows among green aits and meadows; fog
down the river, where it rolls deified among the tiers of shipping and the
waterside pollutions of a great (and dirty) city. Fog on the Essex marshes, fog on
the Kentish heights. Fog creeping into the cabooses of collier-brigs; fog lying out
on the yards and hovering in the rigging of great ships; fog drooping on the
gunwales of barges and small boats. Fog in the eyes and throats of ancient
Greenwich pensioners, wheezing by the firesides of their wards; fog in the stem and
bowl of the afternoon pipe of the wrathful skipper, down in his close cabin; fog
cruelly pinching the toes and fingers of his shivering little apprentice boy on
deck. Chance people on the bridges peeping over the parapets into a nether sky of
fog, with fog all round them, as if they were up in a balloon and hanging in the
misty clouds.
yes and those handsome Moors all in white and turbans like kings asking you to sit
down in their little bit of a shop and Ronda with the old windows of the posadas 2
glancing eyes a lattice hid for her lover to kiss the iron and the wineshops half
open at night and the castanets and the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the
watchman going about