Solution Manual for Electronics Fundamentals: A Systems Approach Thomas L. Floyd, David M.

Solution Manual for Electronics Fundamentals: A

Systems Approach Thomas L. Floyd, David M.
Buchla
Full version at: https://testbankbell.com/product/solution-manual-for-electronics-
fundamentals-a-systems-approach-thomas-l-floyd-david-m-buchla/

CHAPTER 2
VOLTAGE, CURRENT, AND RESISTANCE

BASIC PROBLEMS
SECTION 2-2 Electrical Charge

1. Q = (charge per electron)(number of electrons) = (1.6  10−19 C/e)(50  1031e) = 80  1012 C

2. (6.25  1018 e/C)(80  10−6 C) = 5  1014 e

3. The magnitude of the charge on a proton (p) is equal to the magnitude of the charge on the
electron (e). Therefore, (1.6  10-19 C/p)(29 p) = 4.64  10-18 C
4. (1.6  10-19 C/p)(17 p) = 2.72  10-18 C

SECTION 2-3 Voltage

W = 10 J W = 5J W = 100 J
5. (a) V = = 10 V (b) V= = 2.5 V (c) V= =4V
Q 1C Q 2C Q 25 C

W = 500 J = 5 V
6. V=
Q 100C

W = 800 J = 20 V
7. V= 40 C
Q

8. W = VQ = (12 V)(2.5 C) = 30 J
W 2.5 J
9. V= = = 12.5 V
Q 0.2 C

SECTION 2-4 Current

10.

1 7

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I= = 20 mA
Q
=
0.2
C

t 10 s
Q 75 C Q 10 C Q 5C
11. (a) I= = = 75 A (b) I= = = 20 A (c) I= = = 2.5 A
t 1s t 0.5s t 2s
Q 0.6 C
12. I= = = 0.2 A
t 3s

2 7
 Q Q 10 C
13. I= ; t= = =2s

t I 5A
14. Q = I  t = (1.5 A)(0.1 s) = 0.15 C

SECTION 2-5 Resistance

15. A: Blue, gray, red, silver: 6800   10%

B: Orange, orange, black, silver: 33   10%
C: Yellow, violet, orange, gold: 47,000   5%

16. A: Rmin = 6800  − 0.1(6800 ) = 6800  − 680  = 6120 

Rmax = 6800  + 680  = 7480 
B: Rmin = 33  − 0.1(33 ) = 33  − 3.3  = 29.7 
Rmax = 33  + 3.3  = 36.3 
C: Rmin = 47,000  − (0.05)(47,000 ) = 47,000  − 2350  = 44,650 
Rmax = 47,000  + 2350  = 49,350 

17. (a) 1st band = red, 2nd band = violet, 3rd band = brown, 4th band = gold
(b) 330 ; orange, orange, brown, (B)
2.2 k: red, red, red (D)
39 k: orange, white, orange (A)
56 k: green, blue, orange (L)
100 k: brown, black, yellow (F)

18. (a) 36.5   2%

(b) 2.74 k  0.25%
(c) 82.5 k  1%

19. (a) Brown, black, black, gold: 10  ± 5%

(b) Green, brown, green, silver: 5,100,000  ± 10% = 5.1 M ± 10%
(c) Blue, gray, black, gold: 68  ± 5%

20. (a) 0.47  ± 5%: yellow, violet, silver, gold

(b) 270 k ± 5%: red, violet, yellow, gold
(c) 5.1 M ± 5%: green, brown, green, gold

21. (a) Red, gray, violet, red, brown: 28,700  ± 1% = 28.7 k ± 1%

(b) Blue, black, yellow, gold, brown: 60.4  ± 1%
(c) White, orange, brown, brown, brown: 9310 ± 1% = 9.31 k ± 1%

22. (a) 14.7 k ± 1%: brown, yellow, violet, red, brown

(b) 39.2  ± 1%: orange, white, red, gold, brown
(c) 9.76 k ± 1%: white, violet, blue, brown, brown

23. (a) 220 = 22  (b) 472 = 4.7 k

(c) 823 = 82 k (d) 3K3 = 3.3 k
(e) 560 = 56  (f) 10M = 10 M

3 7
 Another random document
un-related content on Scribd:
 By the kind permission of Mr. Lewis Carroll the following poems are
selected from his books, with some parodies and imitations of them.
 THE WALRUS AND THE CARPENTER.
The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might;
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright—
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,

Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done.
“It’s very rude of him,” she said,
“To come and spoil the fun.”

The sea was wet as wet could be,

The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead—
There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter

Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
“If this were only cleared away,”
They said, “It would be grand!”

“If seven maids, with seven mops,

Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose,” the Walrus said,
“That they could get it clear?”
“I doubt it,” said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.
“Oh, Oysters, come and walk with us!”
The Walrus did beseech.
“A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beech;
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each.”

The eldest Oyster looked at him,

But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head—
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,

All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat—
And this was odd, because, you know,
They had’nt any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,

And yet another four:
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more—
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter

Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.

“The time has come,” the Walrus said,

“To talk of many things:
Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax—
 Of cabbages-and kings—
And why the sea is boiling hot—
And whether pigs have wings.”

“But wait a bit,” the Oysters cried,

“Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!”
“No hurry!” said the Carpenter:
They thanked him much for that.

“A loaf of bread,” the Walrus said,

“Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed—
Now, if you’re ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed.”

“But not on us,” the Oysters cried,

Turning a little blue.
“After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!”
“The night is fine,” the Walrus said.
“Do you admire the view?

“It was so kind of you to come,

And you are very nice!”
The Carpenter said nothing, but
“Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf—
I’ve had to ask you twice!”

“It seems a shame,” the Walrus said,

“To play them such a trick,
After we’ve brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!”
The Carpenter said nothing but
“The butter’s spread too thick!”
“I weep for you,” the Walrus said:
“I deeply sympathize.”
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

“Oh, Oysters,” said the Carpenter,

“You’ve had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?”
But answer came there none—
And this was scarcely odd, because
They’d eaten every one.
Lewis Carroll (Through the Looking Glass).
 T V H .
B L C .
(A Vulture is a rapacious and obscene bird, which destroys its prey by
plucking it limb from limb, with its powerful beak and talons. A
Husbandman is a man in a low position of life who supports himself by the
use of the plough.—Johnson’s Dictionary.)
The rain was raining cheerfully,
As if it had been May,
The senate-house appeared inside
Unusually gay;
And this was strange, because it was
A vivâ-voce day.

The men were sitting sulkily,

Their paper-work was done,
They wanted much to go away
To row, or ride, or run;
“It’s very rude,” they said, “to keep
Us here and spoil our fun.”

The papers they had finished lay

In piles of blue and white.
They answered everything they could,
And wrote with all their might;
But though they wrote it all by rote
They did not write it right.

The Vulture and the Husbandman

Beside these piles did stand,
They wept like anything to see
The work they had in hand;
“If this were only finished up,”
Said they “it would be grand.

If seven D’s or seven C’s

 We give to all the crowd,
Do you suppose,” the Vulture said,
“That we could get them ploughed?”
“I think so,” said the Husbandman,
‘But, pray, don’t talk so loud.’

“O undergraduates, come up!”

The Vulture did beseech,
“And let us see if you can learn
As well as we can teach.
We cannot do with more than two,
To have a word with each.”

Two undergraduates came up,

And slowly took a seat,
They knit their brows and bit their thumbs
As if they found them sweet;
And this was odd, because, you know,
Thumbs are not good to eat.

“The time has come,” the Vulture said

“To talk of many things,
Of accidence and adjectives,
And names of Jewish kings,
How many notes a sackbut has,
And whether shawns have strings.”

“Please sir,” the undergraduates said

Turning a little blue,
“We did not know that was the sort
Of thing we had to do.”
“We thank you much,” the Vulture said,
“Send up another two.”

Two more came up, and then two more

And more, and more, and more,
And some looked upwards at the roof
Some down upon the floor;
 But none were any wiser than
The pair that went before.

“I weep for you,” the Vulture said

“I deeply sympathize;”
With sobs and tears he gave them all
D’s of the largest size,
While at the Husbandman he winked
One of his streaming eyes.

“I think,” observed the Husbandman,

“We’re getting on too quick,
Are we not putting down the D’s
A little bit too thick?”
The Vulture said, with much disgust,
“Their answers make me sick!”

“Now, undergraduates,” he cried,

“Our fun is nearly done,
Will anybody else come up?”
But answer came there none,
And this was scarcely odd, because
They’d ploughed them every one.
The Light Green. Cambridge, 1872.
 T N —N .
The Nyum Nyum chortled by the sea,
And sipped the wavelets green:
He wondered how the sky could be
So very nice and clean;

He wondered if the chamber-maid

Had swept the dust away,
And if the scrumptious Jabberwock
Had mopped it up that day.

And then in sadness to his love

The Nyum Nyum weeping said,
I know no reason why the sea
Should not be white or red.

I know no reason why the sea

Should not be red, I say;
And why the slithy Bandersnatch
Has not been round to-day.

He swore he’d call at two o’clock.

And now its half-past four.
“Stay,” said the Nyum Nyum’s love, “I think
I hear him at the door.”

In twenty minutes in there came

A creature black as ink,
Which put its feet upon a chair
And called for beer to drink.

They gave him porter in a tub,

But, “Give me more!” he cried;
And then he drew a heavy sigh,
And laid him down, and died.

He died, and in the Nyum Nyum’s cave

A cry of mourning rose;
The Nyum Nyum sobbed a gentle sob,
And slily blew his nose.

The Nyum Nyum’s love, we need not state,

Was overwhelmed, and sad:
She said, “Oh, take the corpse away,
Or you will drive me mad!”

The Nyum Nyum in his supple arms

Took up the gruesome weight,
And, with a cry of bitter fear,
He threw it at his mate.

And then he wept, and tore his hair,

And threw it in the sea,
And loudly sobbed with streaming eyes
That such a thing could be.

The ox, that mumbled in his stall,

Perspired and gently sighed,
And then, in sympathy, it fell
Upon its back and died.

The hen that sat upon her eggs,

With high ambition fired,
Arose in simple majesty,
And, with a cluck, expired.

The jubejube bird, that carolled there,

Sat down upon a post,
And, with a reverential caw,
Gave up its little ghost.

And ere its kind and loving life

Eternally had ceased,
The donkey, in the ancient barn,
In agony deceased.
The raven, perched upon the elm.
Gave forth a scraping note,
And ere the sound had died away,
Had cut its tuneful throat.

The Nyum Nyum’s love, was sorrowful;

And, after she had cried,
She, with a brand-new carving knife,
Committed suicide.

“Alas!” the Nyum Nyum said, “alas!

With thee I will not part;”
And straightway seized a rolling-pin
And drove it through his heart.

The mourners came and gathered up

The bits that lay about;
But why the massacre had been,
They could not quite make out.

One said there was a mystery

Connected with the deaths;
But others thought the silent ones
Perhaps had lost their breaths.

The doctor soon arrived, and viewed

The corpses as they lay:
He could not give them life again;
So he was heard to say.

But, oh! It was a horrid sight

It made the blood run cold,
To see the bodies carried off
And covered up with mould.

The Toves across the briny sea

Wept buckets-full of tears;
They were relations of the dead,
 And had been friends for years.

The Jabberwock upon the hill

Gave forth a gloomy wail,
When in his airy seat he sat,
And told the awful tale.

And who can wonder that it made

That loving creature cry?
For he had done the dreadful work,
And caused the things to die.

That Jabberwock was passing bad—

That Jabberwock was wrong.
And with this verdict, I conclude
One portion of my song.

I contend that there is a great deal of natural beauty in the poem of

which this extract forms part. Some people say there isn’t a scrap. A man, I
am aware, mixed up something of the sort in a book called “Alice through
the Looking Glass.”
——:o:——
 JABBERWOCKY.
Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogroves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal sword in hand

Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,

The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
ame whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came.

One, two! One, two! And through and through

The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?

Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!
He chortled in his joy.

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves,

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogroves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
L C (Through the Looking Glass).
 W .
(On the Tichborne Trial)
“Merely interpolating the note that the word ‘wabe’ is explained by the
Poet to mean ‘a grassplot round a sundial,’ but that it also means a Court of
Justice, being derived from the Saxon waube, a wig-shop, we proceed to
dress the prophetic ode in plain English:—
’Twas May time, and the lawyer coves
Did jibe and jabber in the wabe,
All menaced were the Tichborne groves,
And their true lord, the Babe.

“Beware the Waggawock, my son,

The eyelid twitch, the knees’ incline,
Beware the Baigent network, spun
For gallant Ballantine.”

He took his ton-weight brief in hand,

Long time the hidden clue he sought,
Then rested he by the Hawkins tree,
And sat awhile in thought.

And as in toughish thought he rocks,

The Waggawock, sans truth or shame
Came lumbering to the witness box,
And perjured out his Claim.

“Untrue! untrue!” Then, through and through

The weary weeks he worked the rack;
But March had youth, ere with the Truth
He dealt the final whack.

“And hast thou slain the Waggawock

Come to my arms, my Beamish Boy!
O Coleridge, J.! Hoorah! hooray!”
Punch chortled in his joy.
S B , 1872.
 In Truth, October 4, 1883, twenty-one imitations of the Jabberwocky
were printed. They are now rather heavy reading, and only the two
following seem worth reprinting:—
T C “P. C.” B A. T.[9]
Across the swiffling waves they went,
The gumly bark yoked to and fro;
The jupple crew on pleasure bent,
Galored, “This is a go!”

Beside the poo’s’l stood the Gom,

He chirked and murgled in his glee;
While near him, in a grue jipom,
The Bard was quite at sea.

“Gollop! Golloy! Thou scrumjous Bard!

Take pen (thy stylo) and endite
A pome, my brain needs kurgling hard,
And I will feast to-night.”

That wansome Bard he took his pen,

A flirgly look arnund he guv;
He squoffled once, he squirled, and then
He wrote what’s writ above.
H .
 T B .
’Twas grilling hot, the bloky cove
Had burgled through the shop,
When Bobbles caughtled him, and shove
Him into quod flip-flop.

He chore his hair right fistfully,

He rowled his squinty eyne;
He waggled, grovelling fitfully,
His lithy form and lean.

Then Bobbles sweart agin him straight,

So off they chustled him
To horrid Zone for seasons eight,
And chortled at his din.

So all ye pals, come gristle up

Unto my doleful tale:
Ne’er fake away, nor jumble sup,
Though nix my Dolly fail.
A .

——:o:——
Air.—“Will you walk into my parlour.”
“Can you move a little faster?” said a tall man to a stout,
“I’ve an enemy behind me, and I want to keep him out.
See how eagerly the flatterers all throng round the great man;
Now he is looking for their votes, can’t you spoil his little plan?
Can you, can’t you, can you, can’t you spoil his little plan?
Can you, can’t you, can you spoil his little plan?

“You can really have no notion how delightful it would be,

If you get into the House, you will have many a fee.”
And the stout one said, “No! I’ve worked in vain, I’m beat,
My opponent’s firmly settled, and I cannot take his seat.
Will not, cannot, cannot, will not now take his seat.
 Will not, cannot, will not now take his seat.”

“What matters it? you are not beat!” his tall friend to him said,
“There’s another man to take your place, you know, when you are dead.
If you’ll leave Ireland alone, you’ll then get on like fun,
So don’t give up, but go and sup, and we will pay your dun.
Won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you soon cry.
Will you, won’t you, will you soon cry, ‘I’ve won!’”
M S .
Truth. 15 July, 1886.

Not only has Lewis Carroll given many themes to the parodists, but he
has himself produced some amusing parodies, a short one on Dr. Watts, that
on Southey’s, “You are old, Father William,” already quoted on page 156,
Volume III. of Parodies, and “Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup” given
on page 35, all appear in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.
That this book should have been translated into German, French, and
Italian, tells of its well deserved popularity:—
And, though the shadow of a sigh
May tremble through the story,
For happy summer days gone by,
And vanish’d summer glory—
It shall not touch with breath of bale
The pleasance of that fairy-tale.
——:o:——
 MEET ME BY MOONLIGHT.
Meet me by moonlight alone,
And then I will tell you a tale,
Must be told by the moonlight alone,
In the grove at the end of the vale.
You must promise to come, for I said,
I would show the night-flowers their queen;
Nay, turn not away thy sweet head,
’Tis the loveliest ever was seen.
Oh! meet me by moonlight alone.

Daylight may do for the gay,

The thoughtless, the heartless, the free;
But there’s something about the moon’s ray,
That is sweeter to you and to me.
Oh! remember, be sure to be there,
For though dearly the moonlight I prize,
I care not for all in the air,
If I want the sweet light of your eyes.
So meet me by moonlight alone.
J. A. W .