Стилистика английского языка

which enables the location of T. As an example, Fig. 2 shows the correlation error vs. Ts for classical transmission over 3 km of SMF.

This method is believed to be particularly robust to errors in the measurement of each delay D. Table 1 therefore shows the fibre time-of- flight T for each of the two regimes and for the fibre lengths of 1 km, 2 km and 3 km. Attention is drawn to the difference ∆ between the times-of-flight for the regimes. ∆ is seen to range from 1.00 ns for 1 km to 3.10 ns for 3 km. Note that the measurements were performed three times (hence “First Measure”, etc.) and over a total period of 7 days, to test repeatability.

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Conclusions

Detailed measurements of the propagation speed of optical pulses over SMF have been performed in both a single-photon regime and a classical regime. The results appear to indicate, for the first time, that the speed of single photons over optical fibre differs by a small but significant amount from that of classical optical beams. The discrepancy in the time-of-flight increases with fibre length, as emphasised by Fig. 3. An explanation is outlined in a companion paper [2].

References

1.Shields A.J. CLEO/IQEC 2004, paper IWE3.

2.Carroll J.E. Submitted to ECOC 2005.

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ПРИЛОЖЕНИЕ 2

ОФИЦИАЛЬНО-ДЕЛОВОЙ ФУНКЦИОНАЛЬНЫЙ СТИЛЬ

THE JAMESON CONSTRUCTION CO. LTD.

Many thanks for your letter of 30 June enclosing your catalogue and details of your terms. We have decided to place the attached order with you and would be glad if you would give it your early attention.

We have instructed The General Bank of South Africa to open a credit for £625 in your favour, valid until 15 September. The credit will be confirmed by The General Bank of South Africa, Clements Lane, London, who will accept your draft on them at 60 days for the amount of your invoice. Please attach the following documents to your draft:

2 bills of lading,

2 commercial invoices, Insurance policy for £700.

Despatch and marking instructions will be given by our forwarding agents in London, who will advise you of their charges. Your invoice should include c.i.f. Durban, and the amount of our credit is sufficient to cover this and your bank commission on the draft.

Please advise us by airmail when the goods have been despatched.

Yours faithfully

John Smith

THE JAMESON CONSTRUCTION COMPANY LTD.

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ПРИЛОЖЕНИЕ 3

ПУБЛИЦИСТИЧЕСКИЙ ФУНКЦИОНАЛЬНЫЙ СТИЛЬ

Reminisce Extra, October 2002, P. 6-7

I Know… I Was There

Another in a series looking back on the unforgettable times and memorable events in our lives.

By Clancy Strock, Contributing Editor

Jobs of the Past We May Never See Again

A FEW MONTHS ago, a friend sent me a story from The Boston Globe that took a nostalgic look at the life of a former milkman. For the most part, milkmen no longer deliver to our door, although there are a handful left. Nor are there bread wagon men who bring us just-baked- this-morning bread and pastries… nor coal deliverers now that coal-fired furnaces are gone… nor icemen.

It is startling to contemplate how many kinds of gainful employment no longer exist. What are ambitious teenagers or down-on-their- luck adults to do? Most of the opportunities nowadays seem to be in the fast-food industry.

Reminisce continually receives stories that recall the many ways people once earned money. It was pretty much expected that Depressionera kids find work and turn their wages over to Mom, who managed the family’s meager finances.

Shoes or News

In big cities, one of the prized ways to make money was as a shoe shine boy. Getting a shoe shine was an affordable luxury, even if a man wasn’t one of the gentry. Prime locations were tough to come by,

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though. Often you had to buy the spot from the current occupant. Other times you had to fight for it.

That was also the case for news-boys in the big cities. You stood there in all kinds of weather, shouting out the day’s top headline to get the attention of homeward-bound workers. And most afternoons you could make decent money, but you also had to defend your turf with your fists.

And how long has it been since you saw an usher in a movie theater? Ushering was a great job for a teenager. You earned money, wore a snazzy uniform and got to see the movies free.

Gas stations promised “full service” and meant it. Their attendants, often smartly uniformed, cleaned the windows, looked under the hood and checked the tires.

One Reminisce reader wrote that the station where he worked insisted that attendants stand outside in a row like soldiers on the parade ground. Their orders were to sprint to cars that drove in, arriving at the pump just as the car braked to a stop.

In these days of “pay at the pump”, we’re not even always sure there really is a live human inside the station!

Not too long ago, someone created quite a stir with his idea for a company that would spare you ever needing to go to the grocery store. Another Internet space-age miracle! You’d simply fire up your computer, log on and type in your order. After a while it would be delivered to your door, and the bill would be on your credit card statement at the end of the month.

Groceries to Go

Big deal! That’s how my grandmother and lots of other people got their groceries 80 years ago. They just rang up the neighborhood grocery and gave their order… within an hour, the “grocery boy” would whiz up to the house on his bicycle. He’d come inside and deposit the order on the kitchen table.

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A kid could make pretty good money that way, especially if some of his customers were good tippers. And Gramma ran a tab, which she paid at the end of the month.

A Western Union messenger boy was another good job. The only drawback was that the arrival of a telegram usually portended bad news, so the messenger was regarded with a certain amount of dread. Recipients of bad news often forgot to tip.

I worked twice as a pinsetter in bowling alleys, another job now handled by automatic machines. Pinsetting was grueling and sometimes dangerous work. My shins still bear scars from being hit by flying pins.

The hours left you with no hope of a social life, since alleys usually were busy until midnight. And the pay was lousy. At the universityowned lanes in 1943, I earned either 3¢ per game per bowler or 25¢ an hour, whichever was higher.

Lots of adult jobs are gone, too. Not only are milkmen and icemen a thing of the past, but so are elevator operators. Every elevator had one, whose job was to call out the floors. “Fourth floor, kitchenware and furniture.” As the joke went, the job had its ups and downs. But at least it was a job. No longer.

Neighborhood bakeries mostly disappeared as well, defeated by the in-store bakeries that most supermarkets have. Too bad, because every local bakery had its own unique specialty products, few of which lend themselves to mass-production bakeries. Neighborhood meat markets are another casualty of the times, as you’ve probably noticed.

If you lived on a farm, visits from the Watkins man and the Fuller Brush man were welcomed. The Watkins man’s Model T was crammed with extracts, elixirs and remedies, and the Fuller Brush man greeted housewives with a free brush of some sort to ensure getting in the door. But as far as I know, few people have seen a Watkins or Fuller Brush person in years.

Farm wives also looked forward to the man who specialized in sharpening scissors and knives. They’re on the verge of extinction, too. I believe there is only one in our town of 150,000.

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No More Central

For much of the 20th century, a prized job with decent benefits was that of switchboard operator for Ma Bell. In small communities, she was the one you could depend on to know where Uncle Fred or the chief of police was if they didn’t answer their ring.

But we haven’t heard “Number, please” for a long time now. And the railroad conductor who shouted “Tickets, please” as he came through your coach car is nearly as rare as the ivory-billed woodpecker.

I haven’t seen any ads lately for streetcar conductors, either. Maybe in San Francisco, though.

And remember in the ‘50s when a really good-paying job was that of television repairman? Those early sets were cantankerous and prone to mysterious ailments that only a trained repairman could treat.

A really good one was as highly revered as a good family doctor. Who could stand the thought of missing a single episode of Milton Berle or Lucy? Remember, those were the days before reruns.

Another treasured asset was a good mechanic at the corner filling station. He serviced your car, rotated the tires, did tune-ups and generally kept the thing in running condition. Now only people over 60 are likely to remember that they ever existed.

“Iceman!” … “Number, please” … “Tickets, please” … “Fill ‘er up?” … “Extra! Extra!” … “Fifth floor!” Those are voices we likely will never hear again.

I know… I was there.

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