62 lines
3.7 KiB
Python
62 lines
3.7 KiB
Python
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import sys
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import time
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from i2cdriver import I2CDriver, EDS
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text = b"""\
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CHAPTER 1. Loomings.
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Call me Ishmael. Some years ago-never mind how long precisely-having little or no money in my
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purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little
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and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and
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regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is
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a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin
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warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos
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get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from
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deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off-then, I
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account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball.
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With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship.
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There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some
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time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.
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There now is your insular city of the Manhattoes, belted round by wharves as Indian isles by
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coral reefs-commerce surrounds it with her surf. Right and left, the streets take you
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waterward. Its extreme downtown is the battery, where that noble mole is washed by waves, and
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cooled by breezes, which a few hours previous were out of sight of land. Look at the crowds of
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water-gazers there.
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Circumambulate the city of a dreamy Sabbath afternoon. Go from Corlears Hook to Coenties Slip,
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and from thence, by Whitehall, northward. What do you see?-Posted like silent sentinels all
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around the town, stand thousands upon thousands of mortal men fixed in ocean reveries. Some
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leaning against the spiles; some seated upon the pier-heads; some looking over the bulwarks of
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ships from China; some high aloft in the rigging, as if striving to get a still better seaward
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peep. But these are all landsmen; of week days pent up in lath and plaster-tied to counters,
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nailed to benches, clinched to desks. How then is this? Are the green fields gone? What do they
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here?
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But look! here come more crowds, pacing straight for the water, and seemingly bound for a dive.
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Strange! Nothing will content them but the extremest limit of the land; loitering under the
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shady lee of yonder warehouses will not suffice. No. They must get just as nigh the water as
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they possibly can without falling in. And there they stand-miles of them-leagues. Inlanders
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all, they come from lanes and alleys, streets and avenues-north, east, south, and west. Yet
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here they all unite. Tell me, does the magnetic virtue of the needles of the compasses of all
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those ships attract them thither?
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Once more. Say you are in the country; in some high land of lakes. Take almost any path you
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please, and ten to one it carries you down in a dale, and leaves you there by a pool in the
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stream. There is magic in it. Let the most absent-minded of men be plunged in his deepest
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reveries-stand that man on his legs, set his feet a-going, and he will infallibly lead you to
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water, if water there be in all that region. Should you ever be athirst in the great American
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desert, try this experiment, if your caravan happen to be supplied with a metaphysical
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professor. Yes, as every one knows, meditation and water are wedded for ever.
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"""
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if __name__ == '__main__':
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i2 = I2CDriver(sys.argv[1])
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d = EDS.EPROM(i2)
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d.write(0, text) # Write the block of text starting at address 0
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n = len(text)
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rd = d.read(0, n) # Read it back
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print(rd.decode()) # Display it
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