25 April 2007

Vol I / Issue ix ~ 25 April 2007



  1. Letter from the Editor
  2. New Babbage Canal District Filling Fast!
  3. Air Kraken Attacks On Rise In New Babbage!
  4. Annie Londonderry Exhibit At U.R.S
  5. Panthers Of The Northern Forest
  6. Historical Avatars
  7. Prominent Men & Women Of The Day
  8. Literary Corner
  9. Comic - Married To The Sea
  10. New Babbage Register
  11. Events & Announcements
  12. Classified Advertisements
  13. New Babbage and Steampunk FAQ
  14. Contact, Circulation, and other Essential Information for the Reader



We're a full week behind, but not gone forever! In the interest of preventing readers from checking and rechecking the paper boxes for new issues, we've decided to make use of the much-to-be-dreaded, lag-inducing hover text to display the issue date above each paper box. This way, readers will know whether a new issue is ready to be read. Please also consider joining The New Babbage Cog group, where the most recent issues will be delivered to you automatically!

In your service,

Mrs. Junie Ginsburg



If you are considering a place for yourself or your business in New Babbage, this is the perfect time to shop for a plot in the upcoming canal district sim. Only eight plots are remaining, and four row

houses. Please inquire with Mayor Shaunathan Sprocket if you're interested in a parcel in the new sim! Permanent waterfront properties are available, as well as some along the canal passage between void sea sims.



Since my last report about the singular Air Kraken attack that happened to me at Mr. Tripsa’s Steampunk Art and Fashion Shoppe, “The Steamed Palette”, for the past two weeks, I too have unfortunately found an Air Kraken harboring on top of my Tea Shoppe! I thought this Kraken might have been the same one that has been loitering around Mr.Tripsa’s shoppe, but alas, there are two. Frightened that these Krakens could be “mates” and possibly breed, I hired some exterminators to get rid the creature, but alas, nothing that the exterminators used seemed to have banished the beast.

Since the termination failed, the Air Krakens have just casually resorted back to their loafer lifestyle, just growling and swapping their tentacles at a couple of passer bys. If anything, they have just been pesky nuisances. Or so I thought! Last evening whilst leisurely chatting to Ms. Kaylee Frye and Mr. Pizzini Mayo, out of nowhere, Air Krakens, big and small…came from out of the sky and started to attack us!

My assumption all along has been correct. These two krakens that have been frittering on top of Mr.Trispa’s and my shoppes, have indeed been breeding! Ms. Frye, Mr. Mayo and I ran away from them, trying to find a safe place from the attacks. Ms. Frye and I found refuge inside Mr. Wombat’s toy shoppe, but poor Mr.Mayo was unfortunately attacked!

A medium sized Kraken, which I believe to be an adolescent, engulfed Mr.Mayo’s head, and disabled him from fleeing. All the while, smaller krakens floated nearby. After about 30 minutes or so, the medium sized kraken disengaged it’s self from Mr.Mayo’s head, it and the pack of surrounding Kraken’s, quickly departed the area.Ms. Frye and I quickly attended to Mr.Mayo to see if he was all right. He was physically unharmed, but appeared to be mentally scared from the assailment. Mr. Mayo jibber-jabbered incoherently for a couple of minutes, finally found his tongue, and scantily mentioned something about mind control? Is it viable that the Kraken’s have a different ulterior motive, as opposed to them possibly only wanting to just digest New Babbage residents? For now, Mr.Mayo is resting, as he is experiencing post-traumatic shock from the attack. We hope to readily ask him more questions when he is able, to find out what indeed happened to him! New Babbagers and visitors, please do be careful, for the Kraken’s populace has grown. Until we find another way to rid the beasts, I suggest to all Babbagers to wear a protective lead-plated helmet.

Eggberta Echegaray



Annie Londonderry

Much to the benefit of New Babbage, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle has erected a free exhibit to honor the achievement of Mrs. Annie "Londonderry" Kopchovsky, the first woman to ride a bicycle around the world. A wager against a woman riding around the world, to the tune of ten times the average annual income or more, was enough to spur Mrs. Kopchovsky into motion. The mother of three young children, she set off to accomplish what had, in 1895, previously been accomplished only by a man. Part adventurer, part myth-maker, Londonderry reveled in the spectacle and went on to write tales of her marvelous journey after returning to her home. The Undershaw Restoration Society exhibit features a well-written account of Annie's story, as well as a colorful map to plot out the points along her trip. Also featured are several contemporary images that appeared in the media as they followed her progress.

The exhibit runs through April 28th, 2007.

Please visit the Undershaw Restoration Society at Babbage Square 228, 118, 31

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Tired of checking the newspaper box for a new issue of the Cog?

Join the New Babbage Cog group and receive new issues as soon as they come out!

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In the cold north of Gor lies a harsh and unfriendly world that yields to nobody, even its inhabitants- the Panthers. This barbaric tribe lives according to the ways of nature and suffers no-one to interfere with its primal ways. Matriarchal structure and brutal upbringing allows only the fittest and strongest to survive. Little is known of their habits- they seem to be ruled by autocratic Dominas, who are counseled by Shamans and Warriors of both genders. We cannot firmly state whether a Council of Elders is also present. Their leaders are often accompanied by a group of slaves of merely animal like status- they can be beaten, starved and even killed. They have no voice and can not speak to their masters.

This harsh code is brought upon them for their own good- cold, sweat and blood empower the mind and body. After they become true Warriors the skills they have learned through constant training will come most valuable. Upon my first visit to the Northern Forests I did not know anything about their inhabitants. A weak and thirsty traveler trying to make his way through the wood, I found myself in a deep ridge richly decorated with bones (both human and animal). After a few hours of walking I encountered a small plateau with a hide tent and a campfire burning. Later on I was informed this is where any trade between the Panthers and outside world takes place.

I sat upon a fallen tree and rested for a while. An eerie feeling of being followed that haunted me all the way through the ridgeturned into a sting like pain at my spine. I decided to move along and with the use of my machete I found a path to the small wooden bridge across the river furiously roaring on the nearby waterfall. I marveled for a second at this view and that was my mistake. The Panthers were watching me closely and upon crossing the bridge I was captured in a sphere like net made of some strong material I wasn’t able to identify. Being turned around like a rag doll in this cage, I dropped my trusty Pearse Rifle and was left to their mercy.

What amazed me is that in a matter of seconds I was surrounded by ten Panthers that came out of nowhere. They were silent and only their eyes seemed to move. One of them approached me and transported to the other bank advising to withdraw in a hasty manner. I was forced to leave the machete and rifle behind.

Scared but furious I vowed revenge. My next arrival was carefully planned . I had constructed a zeppelin and armed myself to the teeth with all sorts of efficient contraptions- steel plates, heavy industrial glass, enhanced sail cloth as well as a saw off and a on board web gun. "I could not be outmatched with spears and arrows this time", I thought. And thus I entered the skies of the wretched forest. What immediately caught my attention was a sphere like spying pod hovering above the trees. "Not so crude, are we?" I whispered and examined the machine. Unfortunately I was not able to break it for good. I left the spy bearing a proud mark "Babbage Was Here" and flew on.

I crossed the bloody bridge that was an ultimate border on my last visit- "It is a triumph of the Mind" I thought. The village seemed deserted therefore I could concentrate on studying its architecture. My hypothesis on the general view were correct- wooden huts covered with reed and moss constructed on thick beams- floodings might be quite often here. A pallisade that encircled the village was smeared with blood and "encrusted" with skulls - a universal sign in savages’ esperanto -- "Stay off our land!"

I marveled for a little while at the striking and uncivilized beauty of this place- somehow it brought a bit of peace to my soul. And suddenly I saw a Warrior standing and gazing at me I felt shivers. Even being 60 meters above, in a steel cage with unbreakable glass I could feel his silent anger. I realized the explorer’s passion is nothing when compared to his ancient way of life. I bowed my head and withdrew from the Panthers’ territory. This time with understanding and admiration

Sigal Rau



Thinking about a second avatar in Second Life? Perhaps you should consider the name of a person who actually lived in the Victorian Era. Of course last names are limited by Linden Labs, but some interesting combination are possible from the current Linden list.

How about:

Lord Charles Beresford was the second son of the 4th Marquess of Waterford, a rear admiral in the British Navy and a member or Parliament.

Clara Wieck Schumann was the Premier Female Musician of the 19th Century

Henry Slade was a famous American medium

Carl Friedrich Georg Spitteler was a Swiss poet of visionary imagination and was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1919.

Frederick Whitfield was a Vicar and author of many hymns

Richard Woodget was the captain of Cutty Sark, the famous Clipper ship

Linden Labs also restricts common first names so a little creativity is in order. Our own Babbage resident Thomas Swindlehurst (Silver Medalist in the 1908 Olympics and Liverpool Police Officer) had to add his middle Initial "M" to his first name - ThomasM Swindlehurst. Of course, if you do take the name of a historical character you will want to portray the person with dignity and respect. For further information on historical avatars or on the Re-Creationist League of New Babbage, contact Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.



The landscape is ever-changing here in New Babbage. Since our last register, the following plots have changed hands. Please welcome our newest residents!

Parcel No. New Owner/Business:

#8 - Miss Kamilah Hauptman - Caledon Viceregal New Babbage Residence

#14 - Mr. Aleister Russell - Historical Weapon Designs Factory and Laboratories

# 25 - Miss Lapin Paris - The Transformed Woman

In addition to the above, if any owners of plots wish to find a private buyer for their property, please contact Mr. Nikmi Hax.



Arthur Sullivan

Everybody has heard of Arthur Sullivan, whose music is as popular in this country as in England. "Pinafore" was probably the greatest success of the age, as nobody, who has ever witnessed a stage performance at all, has probably failed to see and hear this most delightful of comic operas. "Trial by Jury," and "Pirates of Penzance," though less widely known, have all secured exceptional successes. That the author of these popular compositions, and greatest of English musicians, should have received the honor of knighthood is not surprising. It is royalty's tardy recognition of eminent merit, and gives Sir Arthur Sullivan special prominence at this time.Arthur L. Sullivan is the son of a professional musician, and was born in the city of London. In 1885 he became a choir boy, and two years later gained the Mendelssohn scholarship at the royal academy of music. He afterwards continued his studies at Leipsic; and on returning to England, entered upon the career in which he was to win such eminence and distinction. "The Prodigal Son" and "The Light of the World" at once became popular, while his music to Shakespeare's "Tempest" obtained a great success. His songs and sacred music placed him among the leading composers of the day. But "Pinafore," after all, is the basis of his fame. No other piece, within a like period, has ever been played so many times or in so many different places. When first brought out in England, it failed to gain that extraordinary, though necessarily ephemeral, success it obtained when reproduced in America toward the end of 1878. At that time Mr. Sullivan, with Mr. W. S. Gilbert, came to New York, to superintend the production of "Pinafore" under his personal leadership, and the success of the enterprise was beyond the most sanguine expectations. Cambridge university conferred upon him the honorary degree of Doctor of Music in 1876, and at the Paris exposition in 1878 was made a Chevalier of the Legion of Honor. Mr. Sullivan has for a number of years worked in conjunction with Mr. W. S. Gilbert, who wrote the words of "Pinafore" and "The Pirates of Penzance." Mr. Sullivan is a genial, companionable man, and during his visit to this country gained many friends.

Sir ArthurConan Doyle



In this issue, The New Babbage Cog presents Chapter 8 of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's "The Sign of The Four."


by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Chapter 8


"WHAT now?"I asked. "Toby has lost his character for infallibility." "He acted according to his lights," said Holmes, lifting him down from the barrel and walking him out of the timber-yard. "If you consider how much creosote is carted about London in one day, it is no great wonder that our trail should have been crossed. It is much used now, especially for the seasoning of wood. Poor Toby is not to blame." "We must get on the main scent again, I suppose." "Yes. And, fortunately, we have no distance to go. Evidently what puzzled the dog at the corner of Knight's Place was that there were two different trails running in opposite directions. We took the wrong one. It only remains to follow the other." There was no difficulty about this. On leading Toby to the place where he had committed his fault, he cast about in a wide circle and finally dashed off in a fresh direction. "We must take care that he does not now bring us to the place where the creosote-barrel came from," I observed. "I had thought of that. But you notice that he keeps on the pavement, whereas the barrel passed down the roadway. No, we are on the true scent now." It tended down towards the riverside, running through Belmont Place and Prince's Street. At the end of Broad Street it ran right down to the water's edge, where there was a small wooden wharf. Toby led us to the very edge of this and there stood whining, looking out on the dark current beyond. "We are out of luck," said Holmes. "They have taken to a boat here." Several small punts and skiffs were lying about in the water and on the edge of the wharf. We took Toby round to each in turn, but though he sniffed earnestly he made no sign. Close to the rude landing-stage was a small brick house, with a wooden placard slung out through the second window. "Mordecai Smith" was printed across it in large letters, and, underneath, "Boats to hire by the hour or day." A second inscription above the door informed us that a steam launch was kept--a statement which was confirmed by a great pile of coke upon the jetty. Sherlock Holmes looked slowly round, and his face assumed an ominous expression. "This looks bad," said he. "These fellows are sharper than I expected. They seem to have covered their tracks.

There has, I fear, been preconcerted management here." He was approaching the door of the house, when it opened, and a little curly-headed lad of six came running out, followed by a stoutish, red-faced woman with a large sponge in her hand. "You come back and be washed, Jack," she shouted. "Come back, you young imp; for if your father comes home and finds you like that he'll let us hear of it." "Dear little chap!" said Holmes strategically. "What a rosy-cheeked young rascal! Now, Jack, is there anything you would like?" The youth pondered for a moment. "I'd like a shillin'," said he. "Nothing you would like better?" "I'd like two shillin' better," the prodigy answered after some thought. "Here you are, then! Catch!--A fine child, Mrs. Smith!" "Lor' bless you, sir, he is that, and forward. He gets a'most too much for me to manage, 'specially when my man is away days at a time." "Away, is he?" said Holmes in a disappointed voice. "I am sorry for that, for I wanted to speak to Mr. Smith." "He's been away since yesterday mornin', sir, and, truth to tell, I am beginnin' to feel frightened about him. But if it was about a boat, sir, maybe I could serve as well." "I wanted to hire his steam launch." "Why, bless you, sir, it is in the steam launch that he has gone. That's what puzzles me; for I know there ain't more coals in her than would take her to about Woolwich and back. If he's been away in the barge I'd ha' thought nothin'; for many a time a job has taken him as far as Gravesend, and then if there was much doin' there he might ha' stayed over. But what good is a steam launch without coals?" "He might have bought some at a wharf down the river."

"He might, sir, but it weren't his way. Many a time I've heard him call out at the prices they charge for a few odd bags. Besides, I don't like that wooden-legged man, wi' his ugly face and outlandish talk. What did he want always knockin' about here for?" "A wooden-legged man?" said Holmes with bland surprise. "Yes, sir, a brown, monkey-faced chap that's called more'n once for my old man. It was him that roused him up yesternight, and, what's more, my man knew he was comin', for he had steam up in the launch. I tell you straight, sir, I don't feel easy in my mind about it." "But, my dear Mrs. Smith," said Holmes, shrugging his shoulders, "you are frightening yourself about nothing. How could you possibly tell that it was the wooden-legged man who came in the night? I don't quite understand how you can be so sure." "His voice, sir. I knew his voice, which is kind o' thick and foggy. He tapped at the winder--about three it would be. 'Show a leg, matey,' says he: 'time to turn out guard.' My old man woke up Jim--that's my eldest--and away they went without so much as a word to me. I could hear the wooden leg clackin' on the stones." "And was this wooden-legged man alone?" "Couldn't say, I am sure, sir. I didn't hear no one else." "I am sorry, Mrs. Smith, for I wanted a steam launch, and I have heard good reports of the-- -- Let me see, what is her name?" "The Aurora, sir." "Ah! She's not that old green launch with a yellow line, very broad in the beam?" "No, indeed. She's as trim a little thing as any on the river. She's been fresh painted, black with two red streaks." "Thanks. I hope that you will hear soon from Mr. Smith. I am going down the river, and if I should see anything of the Aurora I shall let him know that you are uneasy. A black funnel, you say?" "No, sir. Black with a white band." "Ah, of course. It was the sides which were black. Good-morning, Mrs. Smith. There is a boatman here with a wherry, Watson. We shall take it and cross the river."

"The main thing with people of that sort," said Holmes as we sat in the sheets of the wherry, "is never to let them think that their information can be of the slightest importance to you. If you do they will instantly shut up like an oyster. If you listen to them under protest, as it were, you are very likely to get what you want." "Our course now seems pretty clear," said I. "What would you do, then?" "I would engage a launch and go down the river on the track of the Aurora." "My dear fellow, it would be a colossal task. She may have touched at any wharf on either side of the stream between here and Greenwich. Below the bridge there is a perfect labyrinth of landing-places for miles. It would take you days and days to exhaust them if you set about it alone." "Employ the police, then." "No. I shall probably call Athelney Jones in at the last moment. He is not a bad fellow, and I should not like to do anything which would injure him professionally. But I have a fancy for working it out myself, now that we have gone so far." "Could we advertise, then, asking for information from wharfingers?" "Worse and worse! Our men would know that the chase was hot at their heels, and they would be off out of the country. As it is, they are likely enough to leave, but as long as they think they are perfectly safe they will be in no hurry. Jones's energy will be of use to us there, for his view of the case is sure to push itself into the daily press, and the runaways will think that everyone is off on the wrong scent." "What are we to do, then?" I asked as we landed near Millbank Penitentiary. "Take this hansom, drive home, have some breakfast, and get an hour's sleep. It is quite on the cards that we may be afoot to-night again. Stop at a telegraph office, cabby! We will keep Toby, for he may be of use to us yet." We pulled up at the Great Peter Street Post-Office, and Holmes dispatched his wire. "Whom do you think that is to?" he asked as we resumed our journey. "I am sure I don't know." "You remember the Baker Street division of the detective police force whom I employed in the Jefferson Hope case?" "Well," said I, laughing.

"This is just the case where they might be invaluable. If they fail I have other resources, but I shall try them first. That wire was to my dirty little lieutenant, Wiggins, and I expect that he and his gang will be with us before we have finished our breakfast." It was between eight and nine o'clock now, and I was conscious of a strong reaction after the successive excitements of the night. I was limp and weary, befogged in mind and fatigued in body. I had not the professional enthusiasm which carried my companion on, nor could I look at the matter as a mere abstract intellectual problem. As far as the death of Bartholomew Sholto went, I had heard little good of him and could feel no intense antipathy to his murderers. The treasure, however, was a different matter. That, or part of it, belonged rightfully to Miss Morstan. While there was a chance of recovering it I was ready to devote my life to the one object. True, if I found it, it would probably put her forever beyond my reach. Yet it would be a petty and selfish love which would be influenced by such a thought as that. If Holmes could work to find the criminals, I had a tenfold stronger reason to urge me on to find the treasure. A bath at Baker Street and a complete change freshened me up wonderfully. When I came down to our room I found the breakfast laid and Holmes pouring out the coffee. "Here it is," said he, laughing and pointing to an open newspaper. "The energetic Jones and the ubiquitous reporter have fixed it up between them. But you have had enough of the case. Better have your ham and eggs first." I took the paper from him and read the short notice, which was headed "Mysterious Business at Upper Norwood." About twelve o'clock last night [said the Standard] Mr. Bartholomew Sholto, of Pondicherry Lodge, Upper Norwood, was found dead in his room under circumstances which point to foul play. As far as we can learn, no actual traces of violence were found upon Mr. Sholto's person, but a valuable collection of Indian gems which the deceased gentleman had inherited from his father has been carried off.

The discovery was first made by Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson, who had called at the house with Mr. Thaddeus Sholto, brother of the deceased. By a singular piece of good fortune, Mr. Athelney Jones, the well-known member of the detective police force, happened to be at the Norwood police station and was on the ground within half an hour of the first alarm. His trained and experienced faculties were at once directed towards the detection of the criminals, with the gratifying result that the brother, Thaddeus Sholto, has already been arrested, together with the housekeeper, Mrs. Bernstone, an Indian butler named Lal Rao, and a porter, or gatekeeper, named McMurdo. It is quite certain that the thief or thieves were well acquainted with the house, for Mr. Jones's well-known technical knowledge and his powers of minute observation have enabled him to prove conclusively that the miscreants could not have entered by the door or by the window but must have made their way across the roof of the building, and so through a trapdoor into a room which communicated with that in which the body was found. This fact, which has been very clearly made out, proves conclusively that it was no mere haphazard burglary. The prompt and energetic action of the officers of the law shows the great advantage of the presence on such occasions of a single vigorous and masterful mind. We cannot but think that it supplies an argument to those who would wish to see our detectives more de-centralized, and so brought into closer and more effective touch with the cases which it is their duty to investigate. "Isn't it gorgeous!" said Holmes, grinning over his coffee cup.

"What do you think of it?" "I think that we have had a close shave ourselves of being arrested for the crime." "So do I. I wouldn't answer for our safety now if he should happen to have another of his attacks of energy." At this moment there was a loud ring at the bell, and I could hear Mrs. Hudson, our landlady, raising her voice in a wail of expostulation and dismay. "By heavens, Holmes," I said, half rising, "I believe that they are really after us." "No, it's not quite so bad as that. It is the unofficial force--the Baker Street irregulars." As he spoke, there came a swift pattering of naked feet upon the stairs, a clatter of high voices, and in rushed a dozen dirty and ragged little street Arabs. There was some show of discipline among them, despite their tumultuous entry, for they instantly drew up in line and stood facing us with expectant faces. One of their number, taller and older than the others, stood forward with an air of lounging superiority which was very funny in such a disreputable little scarecrow. "Got your message, sir," said he, "and brought 'em on sharp. Three bob and a tanner for tickets." "Here you are," said Holmes, producing some silver. "In future they can report to you, Wiggins, and you to me. I cannot have the house invaded in this way. However, it is just as well that you should all hear the instructions. I want to find the whereabouts of a steam launch called the Aurora, owner Mordecai Smith, black with two red streaks, funnel black with a white band. She is down the river somewhere. I want one boy to be at Mordecai Smith's landing-stage opposite Millbank to say if the boat comes back. You must divide it out among yourselves and do both banks thoroughly. Let me know the moment you have news. Is that all clear?" "Yes, guv'nor," said Wiggins. "The old scale of pay, and a guinea to the boy who finds the boat. Here's a day in advance. Now off you go!" He handed them a shilling each, and away they buzzed down the stairs, and I saw them a moment later streaming down the street.

"If the launch is above water they will find her," said Holmes as he rose from the table and lit his pipe. "They can go everywhere, see everything, overhear everyone. I expect to hear before evening that they have spotted her. In the meanwhile, we can do nothing but await results. We cannot pick up the broken trail until we find either the Aurora or Mr. Mordecai Smith." "Toby could eat these scraps, I dare say. Are you going to bed, Holmes?" "No: I am not tired. I have a curious constitution. I never remember feeling tired by work, though idleness exhausts me completely. I am going to smoke and to think over this queer business to which my fair client has introduced us. If ever man had an easy task, this of ours ought to be. Wooden-legged men are not so common, but the other man must, I should think, be absolutely unique." "That other man again!" "I have no wish to make a mystery of him to you, anyway. But you must have formed your own opinion. Now, do consider the data. Diminutive footmarks, toes never fettered by boots, naked feet, stone-headed wooden mace, great agility, small poisoned darts. What do you make of all this?" "A savage!" I exclaimed. "Perhaps one of those Indians who were the associates of Jonathan Small." "Hardly that," said he. "When first I saw signs of strange weapons I was inclined to think so, but the remarkable character of the footmarks caused me to reconsider my views. Some of the inhabitants of the Indian Peninsula are small men, but none could have left such marks as that. The Hindoo proper has long and thin feet. The sandal-wearing Mohammedan has the great toe well separated from the others because the thong is commonly passed between. These little darts, too, could only be shot in one way. They are from a blow-pipe. Now, then, where are we to find our savage?" "South America,"

I hazarded. He stretched his hand up and took down a bulky volume from the shelf. "This is the first volume of a gazetteer which is now being published. It may be looked upon as the very latest authority. What have we here? "Andaman Islands, situated 340 miles to the north of Sumatra, in the Bay of Bengal. Hum! hum! What's all this? Moist climate, coral reefs, sharks, Port Blair, convict barracks, Rutland Island, cottonwoods-- -- Ah, here we are! "The aborigines of the Andaman Islands may perhaps claim the distinction of being the smallest race upon this earth, though some anthropologists prefer the Bushmen of Africa, the Digger Indians of America, and the Terra del Fuegians. The average height is rather below four feet, although many full-grown adults may be found who are very much smaller than this. They are a fierce, morose, and intractable people, though capable of forming most devoted friendships when their confidence has once been gained. Mark that, Watson. Now, then listen to this. "They are naturally hideous, having large, misshapen heads, small fierce eyes, and distorted features. Their feet and hands, however, are remarkably small. So intractable and fierce are they, that all the efforts of the British officials have failed to win them over in any degree. They have always been a terror to shipwrecked crews, braining the survivors with their stone-headed clubs or shooting them with their poisoned arrows. These massacres are invariably concluded by a cannibal feast. Nice, amiable people, Watson! If this fellow had been left to his own unaided devices, this affair might have taken an even more ghastly turn. I fancy that, even as it is, Jonathan Small would give a good deal not to have employed him." "But how came he to have so singular a companion?"

"Ah, that is more than I can tell. Since, however, we had already determined that Small had come from the Andamans, it is not so very wonderful that this islander should be with him. No doubt we shall know all about it in time. Look here, Watson; you look regularly done. Lie down there on the sofa and see if I can put you to sleep." He took up his violin from the corner, and as I stretched myself out he began to play some low, dreamy, melodious air--his own, no doubt, for he had a remarkable gift for improvisation. I have a vague remembrance of his gaunt limbs, his earnest face and the rise and fall of his bow. Then I seemed to be floated peacefully away upon a soft sea of sound until I found myself in dreamland, with the sweet face of Mary Morstan looking down upon me.





THE MAYOR WOULD LIKE TO ANNOUNCE that all persons using the stockyard / sandbox area in the North-Western corner of Babbage Square should pick up their building materials when they leave. This frees up prims for others to use in their projects and keeps the area tidy.



WANTED - Sculptor to create a statue of Charles Babbage for Babbage Park in the new Canal District. Contact Sir Arthur Conan Doyle to apply.

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KEROSENE LAMPS now available at I.J. Ginsburg Dept. Store. Lovely gas lamps available in tin and brass finishes, both with frosted glass chimneys into which a subtle design has been etched. Scripted on/off by touch, these lamps cast a warm, comfortable glow at midnight. Copy / Mod. 12 prims. L$100 each.

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Q. What is New Babbage?

A. New Babbage is a planned group of themed sims designed to promote a steampunk aesthetic.


Q. What is Babbage Square?

A. The first, and to date the only, of the planned New Babbage sims is Babbage Square. New Babbage can be thought of as the "city," while Babbage Square is its first "region."


Q. What is "steampunk?"

A. Steampunk is a genre of speculative fiction, usually science fiction, that explores the question of how past eras, particularly the Victorian period, would have looked if more modern technology had existed usingonly the tools at theirdisposal. Thus the steampunk aesthetic often makes use of wood, brass, iron, and steam-powered engines to construct fantastic machines that never were.

Please see the steampunk Wikipedia entry:



Q. Is New Babbage for role-players?

A. New Babbage is for anyone interested in steampunk ideas. Although many residents dress and role-play the part, all are welcome to participate in the activities here (period attire not required), and are encouraged to explore the technology made available to us in SL New Babbagers are builders, scripters, and texture artists, curious and experimental by nature, come together to invent, create, and commune.




Editor in Chief: Mrs. Junie Ginsburg

Asst Editor: Miss Eggberta Echegaray


Ethics Statement:

THIS IS A COMMUNITY NEWSPAPER, NOT A VEHICLE FOR EXPOSE. All reporters for The New Babbage Cog are obligated to inform potential interviewees when they are gathering data for a report on our behalf, or clearly identify themselves as a TNBC journalist. This is a community paper, not a vehicle for expose; all investigative reporting must be above-the-board. Deception is against the intended spirit of community embraced by this paper and will not be tolerated. If a citizen encounters an aggressive reporter claiming to work on behalf of The New Babbage Cog, they are urged to report same to the Editor.


Visit us:

The New Babbage Cog office is located at #4 Babbage Square, across the street from I.J. Ginsburg Dept. Store (Sanger Park).

-- Drop a notecard:

Notecard communications can be dropped in the postbox outside the Cog office at the address above.

-- IM:

You may contact Mrs. Junie Ginsburg or Miss Eggberta Echegaray by IM with any newspaper business.

-- Aethernet mail:

Messages sent to newbabbage@gmail.com will be fielded or redirected as necessary by Miss Eggberta Echegaray.


The New Babbage Cog is circulated in three ways:

1. new issues are sent automatically to subscribers of the New

Babbage Cog group.

2. Issues are available from a paperboxes at the following locations:

-- Babbage Square telehub

-- Willow Tea Room

-- Undershaw Restoration Society

-- Sanger Park, outside of I.J. Ginsburg Dept. Store

3. A reading copy of the current issue is always available at the newspaper office at #4 Babbage Square.

Back Issues:

All back issues of The New Babbage Cog will be available free of charge. They can be found in the archive on the first floor of the newspaper office.


Volunteer freelance and column writers are welcome to propose stories. The New Babbage Cog also welcomes news tips, reports, and story ideas from interested parties. Please see our contact information above.


Advertising should be germane to subjects of greatest import to residents of New Babbage. Although our sensibilities are quite modern and liberal, The New Babbage Cog reserves the right to determine an ad's fitness for inclusion based on its pertinence to steampunk, Victoriana, retrotech, industry, anachronism, and other related concepts.

Advertising is L$50 to New Babbage citizens and L$100 for out-of-towners, per listing, per issue. For both residents and non-residents, space is limited to 500 characters per listing. Each ad may include one embedded texture and one landmark. File attachments must be delivered at the time of ad reservation. Please see our contact information above to inquire.


[There are no errors known to be in need of correction at this time. The New Babbage Cog is obliged to anyone who sends notification of a mistake, so that rectifications might be swiftly published.]

Copyright Disclaimer:

The Second Life in world note card publication date, of this issue of The New Babbage Cog, and it's intellectual property, are owned by the contributors to the newspaper.

Copyright 2007 of the Common Era

The New Babbage Cog

~~ Relata Refero ~~