Machine Learning With Python Joseph T Handy instant download
Machine Learning With Python Joseph T Handy instant download
download
https://ebookbell.com/product/machine-learning-with-python-
joseph-t-handy-56795828
https://ebookbell.com/product/machine-learning-with-python-
cookbook-2nd-edition-chris-albon-48982446
Machine Learning With Python Design And Develop Machine Learning And
Deep Learning Technique Using Real World Code Examples Abhishek
Vijayvargia
https://ebookbell.com/product/machine-learning-with-python-design-and-
develop-machine-learning-and-deep-learning-technique-using-real-world-
code-examples-abhishek-vijayvargia-50457874
https://ebookbell.com/product/machine-learning-with-python-theory-and-
implementation-amin-zollanvari-50816320
https://ebookbell.com/product/machine-learning-with-python-cookbook-
practical-solutions-from-preprocessing-to-deep-learning-2-converted-
kyle-gallatin-51057006
Machine Learning With Python Theory And Applications G R Liu
https://ebookbell.com/product/machine-learning-with-python-theory-and-
applications-g-r-liu-51237528
https://ebookbell.com/product/machine-learning-with-python-discover-
how-to-learn-the-fundamentals-to-create-machine-learnings-algorithms-
and-use-scikitlearn-with-python-even-you-are-a-beginner-
scratch-35176492
Machine Learning With Python For Everyone 1st Edition Mark E Fenner
https://ebookbell.com/product/machine-learning-with-python-for-
everyone-1st-edition-mark-e-fenner-11035230
https://ebookbell.com/product/machine-learning-with-python-1st-
edition-oliver-theobald-58845824
Machine Learning With Python 1st Edition Tarkeshwar Barua Kamal Kant
Hiran
https://ebookbell.com/product/machine-learning-with-python-1st-
edition-tarkeshwar-barua-kamal-kant-hiran-59248530
Machine Learning With Python Principles And Practical Techniques 1st
Edition Parteek Bhatia
https://ebookbell.com/product/machine-learning-with-python-principles-
and-practical-techniques-1st-edition-parteek-bhatia-232074088
Machine Learning with Python
Joseph T. Handy
Copyright © 2024 by Joseph T. Handy
So, what are you waiting for? Buckle up, grab your favourite coding buddy
(or just grab a cup of coffee!), and get ready to unleash the power of
machine learning!
In the first chapter, we'll unveil the fascinating world of ML, exploring its
various applications and why Python reigns supreme in this domain. We'll
also set up your learning environment, so you can start coding right away.
See you there!
PART 1
FOUNDATIONS
CHAPTER 1
INTRODUCTION TO MACHINE
LEARNING WITH PYTHON
Imagine a world where computers learn from data, just like humans do!
This isn't science fiction; it's the reality of machine learning (ML)! Buckle
up, because in this chapter, we'll embark on a thrilling voyage to understand
what ML is all about and how it's reshaping the world around us.
2. Fraud Detection:
4. Self-Driving Cars:
These are just a few glimpses into the vast and ever-expanding world of ML
applications. As you delve deeper into this field, you'll discover even more
innovative and impactful ways machine learning is shaping our future!
● Python:
Python
# Print a message
print("Hello, world!")
C++
#include <iostream>
int main() {
std::cout << "Hello, world!" << std::endl;
return 0;
}
As you can see, the Python code is much shorter and easier to read
compared to the C++ code, making it more approachable for newcomers.
4. Cross-Platform Compatibility:
Language: English
by
Nora Waln
NEW YORK
THE WOMANS PRESS
1921
Copyright, 1921, by
National Board of Young Womens Christian Associations
of the United States of America
II
Wherein there is a wedding and Kuei Ping becomes a
member of the family of Chia 19
III
Wherein there is a departure from family custom and Kuei
Ping goes with her husband to live in Peking 31
IV
Wherein a son is born and there is great rejoicing 41
V
Wherein shadows throw their length across the tidy
courtyard 49
VI
Wherein there is deepening sorrow 55
VII
Wherein the heart of a woman is occupied with one desire 61
VIII
Wherein Kuei Ping prepares for a pilgrimage 65
IX
Wherein there is patience and tenderness and
understanding and a return to a little home village 73
X
Wherein twenty-seven slow years are added one upon
another 81
XI
Wherein the narrator becomes Kuei Ping’s pupil and is filled
with wondering questions and is witness to a dream come
true in its threefold parts 91
Wherein
Yen Kuei
Ping turns
off from the
Big Horse Street
to make
purchases
on the
Street of
Precious
Pearls
T URNING off from the Da Mou Lui or the Big Horse Street, the
name common to the main street in Chinese towns and villages,
there is to be found, if one seeks diligently for it, the Street of
Precious Pearls. Always it is a side street. Often it is so narrow that
two sedan chairs cannot pass. At those times of the day when the
shadows are long there is no golden sunshine reflected from the
cobblestones that pave the street. But I have found, for I like to visit
the little shops on side streets, that the more precious jewels glow
with a warmer brilliancy when the day outside is dark.
It is the street of greatest importance to every Chinese girl. On it will
be bought her dowry jewels. Ancient custom rules that the betrothed
bride shall convert the wealth she inherits from her father’s
household into precious stones. And so it is here on the Street of
Precious Pearls that her inheritance is spent, lest by bringing money,
as such, into her husband’s household she reflect upon the ability of
her new family to support her.
Yen Kuei Ping sat passively quiet as her chair-bearers turned into the
street at a low spoken word from her grandmother. She was third in
the procession. Madame Yen rode first, directly behind the house
servant who walked ahead, breaking a way through the crowded Big
Horse Street and into the quieter Street of Precious Pearls, crying,
“Lend light, lend light.” Next to Madame Yen came Kuei Ping’s
mother, and bringing up the rear was a fourth chair in which was
carried a distant relative, by name Chang An, who held a place in
the household a trifle higher than that of a trusted servant.
Following the swaying tapestried box-like chairs that marked the
presence of her mother and grandmother, Kuei Ping leaned forward
in her seat, peering through the horizontal aperture in front of her
with brightening eyes. The Street of Precious Pearls was quiet and
cool. Moss clung to the bases of buildings and the grasses that had
ventured up through the paving stones were worn away only in a
central path and in patches in front of entrance ways. Now and then
someone came from beneath one of the heavy curtain-like doors
that closed a shop, and slipped along the silent street, but the
padded shoes of the pedestrian made no noise on the grass-covered
stones. Here was a peace and quiet akin to the hush of the Mission
Church, Kuei Ping caught herself thinking, and then flushed at what
she thought her irreverence in comparing the gorgeous pageantry of
the procession as she saw it silhouetted against the dust-dulled gold
lacquer of the shops with the aesthetic simplicity of the Chapel.
They had traversed more than half the entire length of the street
when Madame Yen’s chair came to a stop before a shop with rich
filigree carvings and double entrance doors of heavy velvet with
brass frames. At the sound of their approach, two attendants of the
door stepped forward and swung it wide, that the chair-bearers
might carry the ladies into a tiny inner courtyard before they need
dismount, saying as they bowed, “Honorable ladies, enter the
humble shop.” Thereupon, the narrower inner curtains of the shop
itself were held open and Madame Yen and her relatives, bowing
low, returned the formal greeting and passed within.
At the entry of customers, numerous clerks and underlings, so it
seemed to Kuei Ping, swarmed forward with greetings and formal
offerings of stools upon which to sit and with cups of tea to drink.
The head of the shop and his partners flicked their long-stemmed
pipes from sleepy lips and rose, as though from deep meditation,
struggling a bit with the light that would penetrate into their eyes,
even in the darkened room, as they bowed, offering the courtesy of
“the miserable place to the pleasure of their honorable guests.”
The eldest among them with his own hand took from an attendant
each cup of tea as it was brought and offered it with a low bow to
his guest. Kuei Ping, lifting her gaze now and then from the floor,
caught a glint of joy of the coming bargain in the corners of the
shrewd old dealer’s mouth and in her grandmother’s eyes, even in
the midst of courtesy and greeting.
Rich jewels were brought forth, for Kuei Ping’s own grandfather was
a well known silk merchant and the coming alliance with an official
family was not beyond the knowledge of Wong Lui, dealer in jewels.
Madame Yen gave but a sweeping glance to the first display placed
before her. Kuei Ping had slipped into the background, but her
mother and the relative looked over the jewels and then up at
Madame Yen as if to agree that they were not worthy of attention.
Wong Lui held various secret conferences with his head clerk, and
boys slipped away into dark recesses to bring forth rarer treasures.
Madame Yen and her daughter preferred pearls, and from the
mysterious caverns of the shop they were brought. Exquisite gems,
each wrapped separately, were removed from their covers and
glowed in a wondrous heap on the dark velvet cover of the
teakwood table.
Kuei Ping liked rich warm color but she liked it best subdued in the
luminous pearls. She was a favorite with her grandmother and this
preference was no secret to Madame Yen who placed her chair now,
as the hour grew on, that Kuei Ping might get the full value of the
beauty of the fabulous heap. Carefully, one by one, the preferred
gems were separated from those of lesser beauty by the two
women. And still at intervals, as though he had just awakened to
some almost forgotten knowledge, Wong Lui would cease caressing
his drooping moustaches with his slender hands and wave a clerk
away to bring even rarer treasure.
But all things come to end in time and these mysterious errands
grew farther and farther apart and finally ceased. Wong Lui had
placed his best before them. Kuei Ping from under her modestly
lowered lashes caught glimpses of bright eyes that glowed from the
darkness of the inner rooms, the curious little clerks and underlings
who peered through the dividing parchment, eagerly following the
tableau in the center of the shop.
Not until the selected heap was before her did Madame Yen speak of
price and then only as a question. Kuei Ping had seen her
grandmother bargain before and so she scarce drew her attention
away from the lustrous heap of jewels even to listen. Wong Lui, too,
was seasoned at the game which both dearly loved and so with the
skill of chess players they moved slowly, each toward his goal, each
carefully measuring the other’s power to yield from his quoted price.
At intervals, when the conflict might have grown a trifle sharp, cups
of tea were served.
Kuei Ping, resting her eyes upon the pearls so soon to be hers,
drank deep draughts of their beauty. Impelled by their drawing
power she gathered a handful of them up in her soft pink palm,
unmindful of the bargainers but not unnoted by them. The quick
eyes of each had counted the number and the face of Madame Yen
had softened as she looked upon the girl. Wong Lui had noted that
also and put it down in his favor in the game before them.
The girl, holding the jewels thus in her hand that she might feel their
nearness, saw them glow into warmer color as she held them, as
though her touch breathed life into them. In after years she was to
think often of the care with which they had been selected and to pay
homage in memory to the experience and knowledge which made
possible that rare power of choice, for even Wong Lui, seasoned
dealer in jewels, had shown respect for Madame Yen’s judgment.
With a suddenness so abrupt as to make her feel she must have
jerked physically, Kuei Ping was back in memory, as she was so often
these days, at the little mission school where she had been sent
when she could go no farther in lessons with her brothers at home.
This too had been an indulgence upon the part of her family, gained
by her nearness to her grandmother.
It was graduation day. This was the memory she conned over most
often. Kuei Ping had stood first in her class and when the exercises
were over she had stolen away into the garden to bid it a last
farewell, with the small remembrance reward that had been given to
her clasped in her hand. Ever since that day Kuei Ping had worn it
next to her heart. She could feel its hard edge now as she sat
holding the pearls. In memory the fragrant perfume of the la France
roses at the end of the walk drifted out to her again, she recalled
the crunching sound Miss Porter’s stiff foreign shoes had made as
she came down the path, and the tenseness of the principal’s voice
as she had spoken, asking Kuei Ping to come and sit in the arbor
and talk with her.
From the first day Kuei Ping entered school she had worshipped the
tall golden-haired American girl in the shrine of her heart as an
Angel of Freedom. While they sat in the arbor she had held Kuei
Ping’s hand in the foreign way. Kuei Ping thrilled to the memory of
that touch more than to the glow of the pearls. Miss Porter built for
the girl who listened at her side that afternoon, a dream bridge of
words that connected the road of Kuei Ping’s life with that strange
land called the United States, where men and women had equal
opportunity, and from which the Chinese girl with her brilliant mind
trained to new ways might return to give service to her own country
women. Kuei Ping had held her breath lest she lose a word while
Miss Porter talked, quiet at first, carried away by the marvel of the
opportunity, then very still because she knew its impossibility. For at
the spring holidays Madame Yen had told her granddaughter of the
plans for her marriage and had given her the engagement gifts from
the Chia household that had been kept these two years now, waiting
until she should be finished with school.
Her family loved her. Kuei Ping had known that from the first
moment she opened her eyes and smiled into her mother’s face.
They awaited her return home and her fulfillment of their plans for
her. There were ties that bound her a part of the whole which made
up the unit of her family, bonds that could not be pushed aside with
the brusqueness that made possible the spirit of freedom that lit the
eyes of the American girl. And yet it was this spirit of freedom and of
service in the wider ways of life to which she had built the secret
shrine within her heart. It was a hard conflict, but Kuei Ping’s
decision was reached before she had lifted her quiet eyes to thank
Miss Porter and say that she could not go.
The latter had been a trifle curt. Kuei Ping had wept bitter tears over
it since, because she had failed the person she admired most in all
the world. The utter futility of attempting to make East and West
understand each other had stilled her lips from any sharing of her
feeling about her home, or any repetition to her grandmother of the
conversation in the garden. The engagement bracelets in the bureau
in her mission school room and the silver honor medal beneath her
dress were each sacred things that belonged in separate parts of her
life.
Madame Yen reached over now to Kuei Ping for the pearls she had
taken from the table, that they might be put in the same case with
the others. The bargain was closed. Fresh cups of tea were brought
forth and refused, Madame Yen and her relatives saying over and
over as they were bowed out, “We have squandered your valuable
time,” and Wong Lui and his attendants begging them not to waste
their breath in courtesy for his humble shop.
Outside, the chair-bearers, trained to patience by long hours, waited.
Wherein
there is a
wedding and
Kuei Ping
becomes a
member of
the family
of Chia
W HEN Kuei Ping was a child of six, playing at games with the little
cousins who dwelt in the Yen compound, or teasing to learn to
read with her brothers, soothsayers, upon examination of a
document from the house of Chia, had found that her destiny was
entwined with that of Chia Fuh Tang, ten years her senior. With care
the grey old man, whose judgment Madame Yen trusted, had taken
the card upon which were drafted the eight characters indicating the
year, the month, the day, and the hour at which Fuh Tang had
entered the world and, comparing them with the similar characters
of the girl, had returned a favorable report of the auspiciousness of
the union. With deliberation and due patience he had compared the
combination of their characters with each of the five elements,
metal, wood, water, fire and earth, to make sure that in the
proposed marriage there was no destroying omen such as the
uniting of wood and fire. He next discovered that the two cyclic
animals that had presided over the birth of the youthful couple were
not at variance with each other. Thereon it was ascertained that the
two would abide together in harmony.
Later, the Imperial Calendar being consulted as to the black and
yellow days which would govern the lives of the two, a second
document was sent from the house of Chia, informing the family of
Yen that the fourteenth day of the month had been found to be the
day most favorable to the conclusion of an engagement and asking
that, if found agreeable to them, a return document, setting the
month, be returned. Fate had already decided the month as the
second of the Chinese calendar year by causing the girl to be born
under the sign of the tiger. The culmination of the alliance had
waited but the year to be set by the contracting families as the
eighteenth spring of Kuei Ping’s life.
The month, corresponding to April on the western calendar of that
year, came with a touch of summer on its breath. Soft rains fell early.
From the wind-dried earth sprang a carpet of velvety green. By the
middle of the month brown-green orchids had pushed out to the
light, azaleas and the wild wisteria were opening buds, the yellow
mustard scattered gold over the country-sides, and the southeast
wind was languid with the sickening sweet perfume of the purple soi
bean.
Kuei Ping, wearing the heavy wedding garments in which she had
been dressed, felt near to suffocation in the close room. Yet she
shuddered as from a chill when Chang An, having put the finishing
touches to the married way of hair-dressing, placed the vanity case
before her, urging the girl to teach her own fingers the arrangement.
The old woman felt the shudder and the tense strain of the girl’s
body as she fastened the tiny buttons of the collar of Kuei Ping’s
dress. Looking down at her she said tenderly, “Be not alarmed, little
flower of our hearts. Thou needest have no fear. Look but into the
mirror at thy beauteous face before the veil is dropped over it. What
man living could pass by the fire of thy deep eyes untouched! Look
now, as I hold the veil of pearls before thy eyes, and see that they
out-rival the lustre of the gems. Even thy hands are shaped like the
petals of the new opened lotus, and thy grace is as exquisite as that
of the wind-swayed blossom. Take the incense burner and make thy
heart a lake of peace upon which thy beauty may float with the
serenity of the flower thou dost resemble.”
Kuei Ping, gazing deep into the mirror as into a wondering dream,
reached out her hands for the many-wired burner Chang An brought
ere she left the little bride alone. Slowly, one by one, the girl
smoothed out the twisted curves until the interlacing grooves were
one continuous whole in which the incense burned before the
Goddess of Mercy without a break.
The hours hung heavy upon her. Over the door that closed her from
the feasting came stray bits of gossip. She heard the click of ivory
dominoes as the dowagers gambled at sparrow. The plaintive call of
stringed instruments came to her as from a great distance. Now and
then, as a minstrel took up the refrain, she caught the words of
some old love song, or heard repeated in chant the valor of a
departed family hero.
The clamor outside grew greater and then subsided into the murmur
of conversation. The one o’clock feast had passed. The shadows of
late afternoon sank into darkness. A servant came to light a taper
beside her mirror. Chang An returned and put the finishing touches
to her toilet. Her mother wrapped the long band of red satin around
her head over the new hair arrangement signifying that they bound
her to the will of the family to which they sent her. Madame Yen with
loving fingers placed the inner veil of red chiffon and then dropped
over it the veil of pearls that had come the day before from the
bridegroom. The long strip of red silk carpet was laid by servants
that she might go to kneel before the family altar and then be
placed in the waiting sedan chair without touching her feet to the
polluting ground.
The time of departure was near. The rooms and courtyards in which
she had lived were strangely unfamiliar with their elaborate decking
in honor of the event. Heavily veiled and her eyes lowered, she felt
rather than saw the crowded mass of her relatives. The minstrel
took up the wail of separation and loss. She heard the tossing of the
four cakes which were to bring luck to her family, and the rattle of
the sieve placed over her wedding chair to ward off evil spirits as
she was sealed into it.
The journey which she must make in darkness began. Ahead of her,
almost a mile long, the procession of her attendants went. Sitting
strained and still she could hear the clash and clang of brass
cymbals, the shifting of burdens from tired shoulders at regular
intervals, and now and then, as she strained her eyes, the flare of
waving torches. Half way to the end of the tiring journey the noise
increased, and she gathered that they had been met by members of
the bridegroom’s family. Dull red balls of light swung above the
entrance gates. Her chair was borne through the double rows of the
procession which had preceded her and set down in a reception
room. She heard the murmuring words of good omen uttered as she
was helped from her cramped seat and out onto a second strip of
red carpet that led to the part of the compound that was to be hers.
Kuei Ping saw Chia Fuh Tang for the first time in one swift stolen
glance from behind her veil. He stood with his back to her as she
entered the doorway. In that glance she knew that he was taller
than her father, that he wore a long mandarin garment with a
square of heavy embroidery in the center of the back, over which a
black queue hung; she saw the flash of a jewel in the front of his hat
as he turned toward her. Then she must lower her eyes to the floor
where his dark slippers made a spot of contrast with the bright
carpet.
He came forward to meet her. Kuei Ping, hidden beneath the
concealing veils, was led forward a few steps by her attendants.
Then, as custom dictated, both sat for a few minutes side by side.
Kuei Ping, still wrapped in the long veil that reached to the hem of
her wedding garments, too weary to stand alone, leaning upon
Chang An and another attendant was then led forth to kneel with
Fuh Tang before the family altar in worship of heaven and earth and
to make low obeisance before the Chia ancestral tablets. Here Chang
An lifted the edge of her veil that she might drink with the
bridegroom from a goblet of wine ere she was led back into her
room to dress for the wedding feast.
Her tired nerves seemed almost to snap at the continued twang of
the stringed instruments. Chang An cooled her hot brow with
calming hands as she took away the heavy veils and helped to dress
her in the lighter dainty pink garments from her trousseau chest.
And Kuei Ping, remembering that Madame Yen had told her that Fuh
Tang too had attended a foreign school, and the evidences of ill ease
he had shown in the ordeal that had passed, wondered whether he
knew of the western custom of personal choice, and stilled her own
trembling with the realization that he had not seen her as yet.
Fuh Tang saw her first thus, with tenderness and something akin to
pity in her eyes, when he came to sit and wait for the serving of the
feast. Food was placed before them but custom forbade the bride to
eat or sleep for three days. She must sit with downcast eyes, her
face immovable while the feasting about her went on, the target of
all eyes, the subject of ribald jokes. Long hours passed again in
which she had need of all the patience gained with the little incense
burner. They left as a memory the odor of heavy perfume that came
from hot rooms, the clatter of chopsticks and bowls, the glimmer of
many-colored robes and the glitter of jewels of the men guests,
strangers and relatives, who came in an almost ceaseless stream
during that first twelve hours to gaze upon the beauty of the bride.
Their remarks burned as a searing iron across her consciousness.
Two more days the feasting lasted. Women kinsfolk of the family
who had not met together for many months, gossiped and drank
tea, adding color to the women’s side of the large compound with
their rich garments of brocade and satin. Some of them swayed on
small bound feet with a “golden lily” glide. They went about
examining the chests of wedding gifts, commenting upon the
hundred and twenty boxes filled with garments and linens,
discussing the charms put here and there to bring good luck.
In the other side of the vast dwelling place the men drank wine and
made merry, their long-skirted garments of silk in seafoam green
and saffron and deep blue, and their chains of amber and jade and
the settings of diamonds and pearls on their hands and in their hats
outdoing the vivid glory of the women’s dress. Here Fuh Tang went
at intervals to offer hospitality in food and wine, and to joke with his
guests.
On the morning of the third day Kuei Ping came forth to find the
guests for the most part dispersed, to worship at the ancestral
tablets with her husband, to make low obeisance to her honorable
new mother and father and the elder relatives, and to show her
respect before the household Kitchen God.
Thus Kuei Ping became an integral part of the family of Chia.
Wherein
there is a
departure
from family
custom and
Kuei Ping
goes with
her husband
to live
in Peking
ebookbell.com