An Invitation To Combinatorics 1St Edition Shahriari Online Ebook Texxtbook Full Chapter PDF

An Invitation to Combinatorics 1st
Edition Shahriari
Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://ebookmeta.com/product/an-invitation-to-combinatorics-1st-edition-shahriari/
More products digital (pdf, epub, mobi) instant
download maybe you interests ...
An Invitation to Abstract Algebra 1st Edition Steven J

Rosenberg
https://ebookmeta.com/product/an-invitation-to-abstract-
algebra-1st-edition-steven-j-rosenberg/
An Invitation to Law and Social Science Richard Lempert
https://ebookmeta.com/product/an-invitation-to-law-and-social-
science-richard-lempert/
Topology: An Invitation 1st Edition K. Parthasarathy
https://ebookmeta.com/product/topology-an-invitation-1st-edition-
k-parthasarathy/
An Invitation to Health, The Power of Now, Brief

Edition Dianne Hales
https://ebookmeta.com/product/an-invitation-to-health-the-power-
of-now-brief-edition-dianne-hales/
Fitting the Facts of Crime An Invitation to
Biopsychosocial Criminology 1st Edition Chad Posick
https://ebookmeta.com/product/fitting-the-facts-of-crime-an-
invitation-to-biopsychosocial-criminology-1st-edition-chad-
posick/
An Invitation to General Algebra and Universal

Constructions Second Edition George M Bergman
https://ebookmeta.com/product/an-invitation-to-general-algebra-
and-universal-constructions-second-edition-george-m-bergman/
An Invitation to Health: Taking Charge of Your Health

19th Edition Dianne Hales
https://ebookmeta.com/product/an-invitation-to-health-taking-
charge-of-your-health-19th-edition-dianne-hales/
An Invitation to the Sociology of Emotions, 2nd 2nd

Edition Scott R. Harris
https://ebookmeta.com/product/an-invitation-to-the-sociology-of-
emotions-2nd-2nd-edition-scott-r-harris/
Land of Hope An Invitation to the Great American Story

Wilfred M Mcclay
https://ebookmeta.com/product/land-of-hope-an-invitation-to-the-
great-american-story-wilfred-m-mcclay/
An Invitation to Combinatorics
Active student engagement is key to this classroom-tested combinatorics text, boasting

1200+ carefully designed problems, ten mini-projects, section warm-up problems, and chapter
opening problems. The author – an award-winning teacher – writes in a conversational
style, keeping the reader in mind on every page. Students will stay motivated through
glimpses into current research trends and open problems as well as the history and global
origins of the subject. All essential topics are covered, including Ramsey theory, enumerative
combinatorics including Stirling numbers, partitions of integers, the inclusion–exclusion
principle, generating functions, introductory graph theory, and partially ordered sets. Some
significant results are presented as sets of guided problems, leading readers to discover them
on their own. More than 140 problems have complete solutions and over 250 have hints in
the back, making this book ideal for self-study. Ideal for a one-semester upper undergraduate
course, prerequisites include the calculus sequence and familiarity with proofs.
Shahriar Shahriari is Professor of Mathematics at Pomona College. He has over 50 publica-

tions in mathematics including two books: Approximately Calculus (AMS 2006) and Algebra
in Action: A Course in Groups, Rings, and Fields (AMS 2017). His book Approximately
Calculus was chosen as an American Library Association’s Choice Outstanding Academic
Title of 2007, and he won the Mathematical Association of America’s Carl B. Allendoerfer
Award for expository writing in 1998. Shahriari was awarded the Mathematical Association
of America’s Haimo National Teaching Award in 2015, the Southern California-Nevada
Section of the Mathematics Association of America’s Teaching Award in 2014, and Pomona
College’s collegewide student-voted Wig Distinguished Teacher award five different times.
CAMBRIDGE MATHEMATICAL TEXTBOOKS
Cambridge Mathematical Textbooks is a program of undergraduate and beginning graduate-level textbooks for core
courses, new courses, and interdisciplinary courses in pure and applied mathematics. These texts provide motivation
with plenty of exercises of varying difficulty, interesting examples, modern applications, and unique approaches to the
material.
Advisory Board
Paul T. Allen, Lewis & Clark College
Melody Chan, Brown University
Teena Gerhardt, Michigan State University
Illya Hicks, Rice University
Greg Lawler, University of Chicago
John M. Lee, University of Washington
Lawrence Washington, University of Maryland, College Park
Talithia Williams, Harvey Mudd College
A complete list of books in the series can be found at www.cambridge.org/mathematics

Recent titles include the following:
Chance, Strategy, and Choice: An Introduction to the Mathematics of Games and Elections, S. B. Smith
Set Theory: A First Course, D. W. Cunningham
Chaotic Dynamics: Fractals, Tilings, and Substitutions, G. R. Goodson
A Second Course in Linear Algebra, S. R. Garcia & R. A. Horn
Introduction to Experimental Mathematics, S. Eilers & R. Johansen
Exploring Mathematics: An Engaging Introduction to Proof, J. Meier & D. Smith
A First Course in Analysis, J. B. Conway
Introduction to Probability, D. F. Anderson, T. Seppäläinen & B. Valkó
Linear Algebra, E. S. Meckes & M. W. Meckes
A Short Course in Differential Topology, B. I. Dundas
Abstract Algebra with Applications, A. Terras
Complex Analysis, D. E. Marshall
Abstract Algebra: A Comprehensive Introduction, J. W. Lawrence & F. A. Zorzitto
Algebra, P. Aluffi
An Invitation to Combinatorics, S. Shahriari
An Invitation to Combinatorics
Shahriar Shahriari
Pomona College, California
University Printing House, Cambridge CB2 8BS, United Kingdom
One Liberty Plaza, 20th Floor, New York, NY 10006, USA
477 Williamstown Road, Port Melbourne, VIC 3207, Australia
314–321, 3rd Floor, Plot 3, Splendor Forum, Jasola District Centre,
New Delhi – 110025, India
103 Penang Road, #05–06/07, Visioncrest Commercial, Singapore 238467
Cambridge University Press is part of the University of Cambridge.

It furthers the University’s mission by disseminating knowledge in the pursuit of
education, learning, and research at the highest international levels of excellence.
www.cambridge.org
Information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9781108476546
DOI: 10.1017/9781108568708
© Shahriar Shahriari 2022
This publication is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception
and to the provisions of relevant collective licensing agreements,
no reproduction of any part may take place without the written
permission of Cambridge University Press.
First published 2022
Printed in the United Kingdom by TJ Books Limited, Padstow, Cornwall, 2022
A catalogue record for this publication is available from the British Library.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Shahriari, Shahriar, author.
Title: An invitation to combinatorics / Shahriar Shahriari.
Description: New York : Cambridge University Press, 2021. |
Series: Cambridge mathematical textbooks | Includes bibliographical references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2021012365 (print) | LCCN 2021012366 (ebook) |
ISBN 9781108476546 (hardback) | ISBN 9781108568708 (epub)
Subjects: LCSH: Combinatorial analysis. | BISAC: MATHEMATICS / Discrete
Mathematics | MATHEMATICS / Discrete Mathematics
Classification: LCC QA164 .S495 2021 (print) | LCC QA164 (ebook) | DDC 511/.6–dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021012365
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021012366
ISBN 978-1-108-47654-6 Hardback
Additional resources for this title at www.cambridge.org/combinatorics
Cambridge University Press has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of
URLs for external or third-party internet websites referred to in this publication
and does not guarantee that any content on such websites is, or will remain,
accurate or appropriate.
To my sons, nieces, and nephews: Tascha, Kiavash, Neema, Noosha,
Borna, and Shooka
Contents
Preface page xi
Acknowledgments xv
Introduction 1
What is Combinatorics? 1
Typical Problems 1
How Do We “Count”? 2
1 Induction and Recurrence Relations 6

1.1 Induction 6
Problems 9
1.2 Strong Induction 15
Problems 16
1.3 Recurrence Relations 19
Problems 22
1.4 Linear Recurrence Relations; Unwinding a Recurrence Relation 27
Problems 35
1.5 Open Problems and Conjectures 40
2 The Pigeonhole Principle and Ramsey Theory 42

2.1 The Pigeonhole Principle 42
Problems 48
2.2 Multisets and Graphs 52
Problems 58
2.3 Ramsey Theory 61
Problems 71
2.4 Schur, Van der Waerden, and Graph Ramsey Numbers 75
Problems 78
3 Counting, Probability, Balls and Boxes 83

3.1 The Addition, Multiplication, and Subtraction Principles 83
Problems 86
3.2 Probability 87
Problems 89
vii
viii Contents
3.3 A Framework for Counting Questions: The Counting Table 93

Problems 97
3.4 Bijective Maps and Counting 98
Problems 100
COLLABORATIVE MINI-PROJECT 1: Counting Monochromatic Triangles 103
COLLABORATIVE MINI-PROJECT 2: Binomial Coefﬁcients 107
COLLABORATIVE MINI-PROJECT 3: Stirling Numbers 111
4 Permutations and Combinations 115

4.1 Permutations of a Set and Falling Factorials 115
Problems 120
4.2 Combinations of Sets and Binomial Coefficients 121
Problems 123
4.3 Permutations of Multisets and Multinomial Coefficients 127
Problems 132
4.4 Combinations of Multisets and Counting Integer Solutions 134
Problems 140
4.5 More Problems 143
Problems 143
5 Binomial and Multinomial Coefﬁcients 147

5.1 Binomial Coefficients 147
Problems 158
5.2 The Binomial Theorem 164
Problems 167
5.3 Multinomials and the Multinomial Theorem 170
Problems 172
5.4 Binomial Inversion, Sums of Powers, Lattice Paths, Ming–Catalan
Numbers, and More 173
Problems 173
6 Stirling Numbers 193

6.1 Stirling Numbers of the Second Kind 193
Problems 206
6.2 Stirling Numbers of the First Kind 210
Problems 217
6.3 How Are the Stirling Numbers Related? 222
Problems 226
Contents ix
7 Integer Partitions 230

7.1 Partitions of an Integer 230
Problems 237
7.2 Asymptotics, Pentagonal Number Theorem, and More 240
Problems 241
COLLABORATIVE MINI-PROJECT 4: Generating Functions 249
COLLABORATIVE MINI-PROJECT 5: Graphic Sequences and Planar Graphs 253
COLLABORATIVE MINI-PROJECT 6: Connectivity of Graphs 257
8 The Inclusion–Exclusion Principle 261

8.1 The Inclusion–Exclusion Principle 261
Problems 269
8.2 Combinations of a Multiset 275
Problems 277
8.3 Permutations with Forbidden Positions 278
Problems 284
9 Generating Functions 292

9.1 Ordinary Generating Functions 292
Problems 304
9.2 Combinations of Multisets and Solving Recurrence Relations 307
Problems 315
9.3 Exponential Generating Functions 321
Problems 327
9.4 Generating Functions for Partitions, Stirling Numbers,
Bernoulli Numbers, and More 330
Problems 330
Interregnum: Counting Table Completed 349
COLLABORATIVE MINI-PROJECT 7: Ming–Catalan Numbers 351
COLLABORATIVE MINI-PROJECT 8: Sperner’s Theorem 355
10 Graph Theory 361

10.1 Graphic Sequences 362
Problems 367
10.2 Paths, Cycles, and Trees 369
Problems 374
x Contents
10.3 Bipartite Graphs 381

Problems 383
10.4 Eulerian Trails and Circuits 385
Problems 389
10.5 Hamiltonian Paths and Cycles 392
Problems 396
10.6 Planar Graphs and the Tiling of the Plane 401
Problems 413
10.7 Graph Coloring and More 424
Problems 426
COLLABORATIVE MINI-PROJECT 9: Cayley’s Tree Formula 443
COLLABORATIVE MINI-PROJECT 10: Incidence Matrices and Bipartite Graphs 449
11 Posets, Matchings, and Boolean Lattices 453

11.1 Posets, Total Orders, and Hasse Diagrams 453
Problems 460
11.2 Chains, Antichains, and Dilworth’s Theorem 463
Problems 469
11.3 Matchings and the Marriage Theorem 473
Problems 479
11.4 Boolean Lattices: Symmetric Chains, Theorems of Sperner,
and Erdős–Ko–Rado 488
Problems 497
11.5 Boolean Lattices and Graphs: Ramsey Theory Extended 499
Problems 503
11.6 Möbius Inversion: Inclusion–Exclusion Extended 505
Problems 514
Appendix A Short Answers for Warm-Up Problems 522
Appendix B Hints for Selected Problems 524
Appendix C Short Answers for Selected Problems 531
Appendix D Complete Solutions for Selected Problems 533
Bibliography 602
Index 609
The plate section can be found between pages 248 and 249
Preface
Combinatorics is a fun, difficult, broad, and very active area of mathematics. Counting,
deciding whether certain configurations exist, and elementary graph theory are where the
subject begins. There are a myriad of connections to other areas of mathematics and
computer science, and, in fact, combinatorial problems can be found almost everywhere.
To learn combinatorics is partly to become familiar with combinatorial topics, problems,
and techniques, and partly to develop a can-do attitude toward discrete problem solving.
This textbook is meant for a student who has completed an introductory college calculus
sequence (a few sections require some knowledge of linear algebra but you can get quite a
bit out of this text without a thorough understanding of linear algebra), has some familiarity
with proofs, and desires to not only become acquainted with the main topics of introductory
combinatorics but also to become a better problem solver.
Key Features
• Conversational Style. This text is written for students and is meant to be read. Reading
mathematics is difficult, but being able to decipher complicated technical writing is an
incredibly useful and transferable skill. The discussions in between the usual theorems,
proofs, and examples are meant to facilitate the reader’s (ad)venture into reading a
mathematics textbook.
• Problem-Solving Emphasis. One advantage of combinatorics is that many of its topics can
be introduced without too much jargon. In fact, you can turn to almost any chapter in this
book and find problem statements that are understandable regardless of your background.
Initially, you may not know how to do a problem or even where to begin, but gaining
experience in passing that hurdle is at the heart of becoming a better problem solver. For
this to happen, you, the reader, have to get actively involved, and learn by solving problems.
Getting the right answer is not really the objective. Rather, it is only by trying to solve
a problem that you will really understand what the problem is asking and what subtle
issues need to be considered. It is only after you have given the problem a try that you will
appreciate the solution. This text gives you ample opportunity to get actively involved. In
addition to over 1200 problems, we highlight the following features.
– Collaborative Mini-projects. The mini-projects – there are 10 of these scattered through-
out the text – are meant to be projects for groups of three or four students to
collaboratively explore. They are organized akin to a science lab. A few preliminary
xi
xii Preface
problems are to be done individually. The collaborative part of the project is meant to
take up the good part of an afternoon, and it is envisioned that a project report – really
a short mathematics paper – will be the result. The mini-projects are of two types. In
one type (Mini-projects 1, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10), the project explores new material that is
not covered elsewhere in the text. The second type (Mini-projects 2, 3, 4, and 5) are
meant to be done by the students before the relevant topic is covered in class. (This
should explain their curious placement in the text.) It has been my experience that
much learning happens if the students first work on a topic, in a guided and purposeful
manner, on their own, followed by class discussion/lecture.
– Guided Discovery through Scaffolded Projects. In addition to collaborative mini-
projects, quite a number of other topics are organized as a sequence of manageable
smaller problems. I often assign these problems in consecutive assignments, so that I
can provide solutions, and allow time for discussion before proceeding to subsequent
steps. In some other problems, students are guided toward a solution through an explicit
sequence of steps. Some of the proofs are presented in this format with the hope that
an engaged reader, with a paper and pencil at hand, will fill in the details. As such,
these problems are aimed at training the reader in the art of reading terse mathematical
proofs.
– Warm-Up Problems and Opening Chapter Problems. Nearly every section starts with a
warm-up problem. These are relatively straightforward problems, and I use them for
in-class group work as a prelude to the discussion of a topic. In contrast, every chapter
starts with a more subtle opening problem. My guess is that, for the most part, you,
the student, will not be able to do these opening problems before working through the
chapter. The purpose is to give you a glimpse of what we are going to do in the chapter,
and motivate you to make it through the material. Each opening chapter problem is
solved somewhere in the chapter, and all of the warm-up problems have a short answer
in Appendix A.
– Selected Hints, Short Answers, Complete Solutions. The appendices have hints, short
answers, and complete solutions for selected problems. A problem number in italics –
there are 142 of these – indicates that the problem has a complete solution in Appendix
D. Try a problem first without looking at the solution, but when you are stuck –
and hopefully you will get stuck often and learn to cherish the experience – then
first look at the hint section, then later at the short answer section, and finally at
the complete solutions section. The complete solutions serve two purposes. They
provide further examples of how to do problems, and they model how to write
mathematics in paragraph style. By contrast, the short answers are not particularly
helpful in telling you how to do a problem. Instead, after you are done with a
problem, the short answer can either reassure you or send you back to the drawing
board.
Preface xiii
– Open Problems and Conjectures. A number of the chapters end with a section highlight-
ing a few easily stated open problems and conjectures. Some of these are important
unsolved problems, while others are mere curiosities. This is not meant to be a guide to
current cutting-edge research problems. Rather, the modest aim is to whet the reader’s
appetite by convincing her that even some seemingly innocent-looking problems remain
unsolved, and that combinatorics is an active area of research.
– Historical Asides. I am not a historian and the historical comments and footnotes barely
scratch the surface. Even so, combinatorial problems and solutions are a wonderful
example of the international nature of mathematics. In addition, mathematics is created
by humans who are affected by, participate in, and sometimes, for good or bad, help
shape the communities and societies that they are a part of. I will declare success even
if just a few of you become curious and further investigate the historical context of the
mathematics. I have also chosen to highlight the international nature of combinatorics
by naming some well-known mathematical objects differently. See the discussion later
in this preface for a bit more context.
Coverage and Organization

The text has more than enough material for a one-semester course in combinatorics at the
sophomore or junior level at an American university. The sections of the book that I do
not cover in my classes, and that I consider optional, are marked by a . Induction proofs
and recurrence relations will be used throughout the book and are the subject of Chapter 1.
Counting problems – so-called enumerative combinatorics – take up more than half of the
book, and are the subject of Chapters 3 through 9. In Chapter 3, we introduce a slew of
“balls and boxes” problems that serve as an organizing principle for our counting problems.
Chapters 3, 4, and 5 cover the basics of permutations and combinations as well as a good
dose of exploration of binomial coefficients. Chapters 6 and 7 are on Stirling numbers
and integer partitions. Two substantial chapters on the inclusion–exclusion principle and
generating functions conclude our treatment of enumerative combinatorics. Graph theory
is about one-third of the book and is covered in Chapters 2 and 10. The basic vocabulary
of graphs is introduced early in Section 2.2, but, for the most part, the material on graph
theory is independent of the other chapters. I start the course with Ramsey theory since I
want to make sure that all students are seeing something new, and that they are not lulled
into thinking that the class is going to be only about permutations and combinations. But
Ramsey theory is difficult and could be postponed to much later. Alternatively, you could
start with Chapter 10, and do graph theory first. Finally, Chapter 11 brings together material
on partially ordered sets, a favorite of mine. Matchings in bipartite graphs is also covered in
this chapter, since I wanted to bring out the close connection between the two frameworks.
xiv Preface
The instructor may want to augment the usual fare of introductory combinatorics with one
or two more substantial results. Among the topics offered here are the Chung–Feller theorem,
Euler’s pentagonal number theorem, Cayley’s theorem on labeled trees, Stanley’s theorem on
acyclic orientations, Thomassen’s five-color theorem, Pick’s formula, the Erdős–Ko–Rado
theorem, Ramsey’s theorem for hypergraphs, and Möbius inversion.
The Global Roots of Combinatorics and the Naming

of Mathematical Objects
Most “new” mathematical ideas and concepts have antecedents and precursors in older ones,
and, as a result, the search for the “first” appearance of this or that mathematics is never-
ending and often futile. As such the naming of mathematical objects and results sometimes –
possibly always – is a bit arbitrary.1 However, when you look at the totality of the common
names of mathematical objects in combinatorics – Pascal’s triangle, Vandermonde’s identity,
Catalan numbers, Stirling numbers, Bell numbers, or Fibonacci numbers – a remarkable
and seemingly non-random pattern emerges. All the names chosen are from the European
tradition. Undoubtedly, European mathematicians contributed significantly – and, in many
subareas of mathematics, decisively – to the development of mathematics. However, this
constellation of names conveys to the beginning student that combinatorial ideas and
investigations were limited to Europe. In the case of combinatorics, nothing could be further
from the truth. Mathematicians from China, Japan, India, Iran, northern Africa, the wider
Islamic world, and the Hebrew tradition, to mention a few, have very much worked on these
topics. (For some of this history, see Wilson and Watkins 2013.) Certainly, the later European
scholars have taken some topics further, but this does not take away from the international
character of mathematics in general and combinatorics in particular. For this reason, we
have tried to use a more inclusive set of names for at least some of the familiar objects. It is
completely understandable to want to be familiar with the more common – often universally
accepted – names for various objects, and those are pointed out in the text as well. The author
does not claim expertise in the history of combinatorics, and it is quite possible that very
good historical arguments can be made in support of other attributions or against the ones
suggested here. If such a discussion ensues, we will all be better for it.
1 “It takes a thousand men to invent a telegraph or a steam engine, or a phonograph, or a telephone, or any other
important thing – and the last man gets the credit and we forget the others. He added his little mite – that is all he
did. These object lessons should teach us that ninety-nine parts of all things that proceed from the intellect are
plagiarisms, pure and simple; and the lesson ought to make us modest. But nothing can do that.” Mark Twain,
Letter to Helen Keller, Riverdale-on-the-Hudson, St. Patrick’s Day 1903.
Acknowledgments
Like many mathematicians, I was introduced to combinatorics by having to use it in other

areas of mathematics. I actually did not take a combinatorics course in college or in graduate
school. When I got the opportunity to teach combinatorics at Pomona College, I relied heavily
on the many wonderful texts available. Some of my favorites, from which I learned a lot – and
much of that can be seen on the pages of this book – are Brualdi (2010) (I used the first
edition to teach my first combinatorics class), Tucker (1995), Stanley (2012), van Lint and
Wilson (2001), Anderson (2002), and Wilf (2006). In teaching that first combinatorics class,
the attempt to loosen the assumptions in one particular homework problem led me to my
first research paper in combinatorics (Shahriari (1996)). I also realized that combinatorics is
a fertile area for involving undergraduates in research. As a result, and over time, I shifted my
primary research area from finite group theory to combinatorics. In addition to the authors
of the numerous texts that I have relied on over the years, I also thank both my research
collaborators and my students. It has been exciting to do research in combinatorics, and it has
been fun to share that excitement with my students. My colleagues Vin de Silva and Ghassan
Sarkis, who used earlier versions of the text, have been generous with their suggestions and
comments. The staff and editors at Cambridge University Press – Katie Leach, Maggie Jeffers,
Rachel Norridge, and John King – have been instrumental in getting the book completed.
They have been helpful, professional, and most importantly patient. Finally, my immediate
family, Nanaz, Kiavash, and Neema, have supported, motivated, and endured me all through
this project. Thank you.
xv
Introduction
Accurate reckoning. The entrance into the knowledge of all existing things and all
obscure secrets.
–The Ahmes–Rhind Papyrus
What is Combinatorics?
Combinatorics is a collection of techniques and a language for the study of (finite or
countably infinite) discrete structures. Given a set of elements (and possibly some structure
on that set), typical questions in combinatorics are:
• Does a specific arrangement of the elements exist?
• How many such arrangements are there?
• What properties do these arrangements have?
• Which one of the arrangements is maximal, minimal, or optimal according to some
criterion?
Unlike many other areas of mathematics – e.g., analysis, algebra, topology – the core of
combinatorics is neither its subject matter nor a set of “fundamental” theorems. More than
anything else, combinatorics is a collection – some may say a hodgepodge – of techniques,
attitudes, and general principles for solving problems about discrete structures. For any given
problem, a combinatorist combines some of these techniques and principles – e.g., the
pigeonhole principle, the inclusion–exclusion principle, the marriage theorem, various
counting techniques, induction, recurrence relations, generating functions, probabilistic
arguments, asymptotic analysis – with (often clever) ad hoc arguments. The result is a fun
and difficult subject.
In today’s mathematical world, in no small part due to the power of digital computers,
most mathematicians find much use for the tool box of combinatorics. In problems of pure
mathematics, often, after deciphering the layers of theory, you find a combinatorics problem
at the core. Outside of mathematics, and as an example, combinatorial problems abound in
computer science.
Typical Problems
To whet your appetite, here is a preliminary sample of problems that we will encounter in the
course of this text.
1
2 Introduction
• How many sequences a1,a2, . . . ,a12 are there consisting of four 0’s and eight 1’s, if no two
consecutive terms are both 0’s?
• A bakery has eight kinds of donuts, and a box holds one dozen donuts. How many different
boxes can you buy? How many different boxes are there that contain at least one of
each kind?
• A bakery sells seven kinds of donuts. How many ways are there to choose one dozen donuts
if no more than three donuts of any kind are used?
• Determine the number of n-digit numbers with all digits odd, such that 1 and 3 each occur
a positive even number of times.
• We are trying to reconstruct a word that is made from the letters A, B, C, D, and R. We are
given a frequency table that shows the number of times a specific triple occurs in the word:
triple frequency
ABR 2
ACA 1
ADA 1
BRA 2
CAD 1
DAB 1
RAC 1
For example, ABR occurs twice while ACA appears once. We want to know all words with
the same triples and with the same frequency table. The answer may be that there are no
such words. Note that by a word we mean an ordered collection of letters and we are not
concerned with meaning.
• A particular signaling network consists of six pieces of communications equipment:
x1,x2,y1,y2,z1,z2
We can choose various pairs of these and link each pair through an intermediate facility
(e.g., microwave towers, trunk groups). Intermediate facilities are expensive to build but
if one fails, then all the links through them become inoperative. So, if we build just one
intermediate facility and route all of our connections through it, then its failure will
disconnect everything. However, the design specification requires that if one intermediate
facility fails, then there will remain at least one link between at least one of the x’s and one
of the y’s and between one of the x’s and one of the z’s, as well as between one of the y’s
and one of the z’s. What is the minimum number of facilities that we need and how should
the connections be designed?
• A soccer ball is usually tiled with 12 pentagons and 20 hexagons. Are any other combina-
tions of pentagons and hexagons possible?
How Do We “Count”?
Counting the number of configurations of a certain type is an important part of combi-
natorics. In all of the examples in the previous section, it is clear what kind of an answer
we are looking for. We want a specific numerical answer or an example of a specific

configuration.
However, in many problems, it may be possible to present a solution that is satisfactory in
many ways but is not quite a direct answer. We look at several examples.
(a) Let [n] = {1,2, . . . ,n}, and let f (n) be the number of subsets of [n]. Then f (n) = 2n .
Proof. For any particular subset of [n], each element of [n] is either in that subset or not.
Thus, to construct a typical subset, we have to make one of two choices for each element
of [n]. Furthermore, these choices are independent of each other. Hence, the total number
of choices – and consequently the total number of subsets – is
2 × 2 × · · · × 2 = 2n .

n
This proof gives a closed formula for the answer, and, in fact, gives more than was
asked. It also tells us how to construct all the subsets.
(b) Assume n people give their n hats to a hat-check person. Let f (n) be the number of ways
that the hats can be returned, so that everyone has one hat, but no one has their own hat.
If we list the hats on the left and their owners on the right, then the figure below shows
three ways of returning hats to four people so that none of them gets their own hat back.
1 1 1 1 1 1
2 2 2 2 2 2
3 3 3 3 3 3
4 4 4 4 4 4
You should check that f (1) = 0, f (2) = 1, and f (3) = 2. You should also try to find
f (4).
We will show in Section 8.3 that

n
(−1)i
f (n) = n! .
i!
i=0
This is a formula – and you should check your answers for n = 1, . . . ,4 using it – but
we would have preferred a “nice” closed formula. While you may not find this formula
pleasing, it does work, and will become even more meaningful when we understand the
significance of each term in the sum.
It is also possible to show that f (n) is the nearest integer to n!e . This is, of course, easier
to use. But this formula may not have a combinatorial significance, and hence, it may be
argued, that it gives us less insight. It is, however, fascinating that in answering a question
about hats, the number e would make an appearance.
(c) Let [n] = {1, . . . ,n}. Let f (n) be the number of subsets of [n] that do not contain two
consecutive integers. For example, if n = 4, then the subsets of {1,2,3,4} that do not
contain two consecutive integers are
4 Introduction
∅, {1}, {2}, {3}, {4}, {1,3}, {1,4}, {2,4}.

Thus f (4) = 8. You should also check that f (1) = 2, f (2) = 3, and f (3) = 5.
We will show in Example 1.18 (and again in Example 9.34) that
1 1 √ 1 √
f (n) = √ (τ n+2 − τ n+2 ), where τ = (1 + 5), τ = (1 − 5).
5 2 2
Again, it is unclear how irrational numbers got involved in counting a discrete
phenomenon. This formula can actually be used but seems to give little insight into the
problem. Sometimes, there are alternatives to finding a closed formula. For this problem,
we can prove the following recurrence relation:
CLAIM: f (n) = f (n − 1) + f (n − 2).
Proof. All “good” subsets of [n] either have n or don’t have n. The ones that don’t have
n are exactly the “good” subsets of [n − 1]. The “good” subsets of [n] that include n are
exactly the “good” subsets of [n − 2] together with n. Thus f (n) = f (n − 1) + f (n − 2).
Seeing the recurrence relation, we know that the sequence f (1), f (2), . . . is the Piṅgala–
Fibonacci sequence (see Section 1.2.1), and we can use the recurrence relation to generate
as many values of f as we want. In fact, the closed formula quoted above can be derived
from this recurrence relation.
(d) We have a sequence a0 = 1, a1 , a2 , . . . such that, for all n ≥ 1,

n
ak an−k = 1.
k=0
We want to find a47 .

For example,
a0 = 1
a0 a1 + a1 a0 = 1 ⇒ a1 + a1 = 1 ⇒ a1 = 1/2
2
a0 a2 + a1 a1 + a2 a0 = 1 ⇒ a2 + 12 + a2 = 1 ⇒ a2 = 3/8.
We see that we could continue and, step by step, calculate the terms of the sequence.
This is quite tedious. An alternative way to approach this problem is through generating
functions. If we want to find a formula for some function f (n) where n is a natural number,
then we can form the generating function of f (n):

f (n)xn = f (0) + f (1)x + f (2)x2 + · · · + f (n)xn + · · · .
n≥0
Here we are concerned with formal power series, and questions of convergence do not
come up (at least for elementary applications). Sometimes this power series has a nice
closed form and then we can manipulate this function and get information about f (n).
So for our problem, let
F(x) = a0 + a1 x + a2 x2 + · · · .
Now
F(x)F(x) = (a0 + a1 x + a2 x2 + · · · )(a0 + a1 x + a2 x2 + · · · )
= a20 + (a0 a1 + a1 a0 )x + (a0 a2 + a1 a1 + a2 a0 )x2 + · · ·
= 1 + x + x2 + · · ·
1
= .
1−x
1
We have (F(x))2 = 1−x and so
1
F(x) = √ .
1−x
Now an is the coefficient of xn in the Taylor series expansion of F(x). So, we can use a
symbolic algebra software such as SageMath , Maple , or Mathematica to find any
desired value of an .
As an example, in Maple, we first define the function by > F := √ 1 , and
1−x
then get the coefficient of x47 in the Taylor polynomial expansion of F at x = 0 by
>coeftayl(F,x=0,47). We get
50803160635786570329644235
a47 = .
618970019642690137449562112
It is amazing that calculus can help in solving such a discrete problem. In fact, the
generating function F(x) can actually be used to get
1 · 3 · 5 · · · (2n − 1)
an = .
2n n!
However, it is not clear that this formula is any better than the generating function.
As the examples show, we will not only use a myriad of techniques for solving counting
problems, but we will also refine our sense of what a good solution should look like. This all
will (hopefully) become clear as we get our hands dirty and start solving problems.
1 Induction and Recurrence Relations
On a large square piece of paper, I draw 100 straight lines that start from one side of the square and end
on another side. Each two of the lines intersect but no three (or more) lines go through the same point.
Into how many regions do the lines split the piece of paper? If instead of 100, I had drawn only 3 lines, the
answer would have been 7 as illustrated in Figure 1.1.
Induction is a powerful method of proof and immensely useful in combinatorics. We

suspect that most readers already have some experience with induction, and so the first
two sections of this chapter should provide a quick review and some additional practice.
Recurrence relations are ubiquitous in combinatorics and provide another powerful tool in
analyzing counting problems. This will be important through the text, but Section 1.3 gives
you experience constructing and using recurrence relations. Often recurrence relations and
induction provide a one-two punch. You are interested in a sequence of integers – maybe
a sequence that arises from a counting problem – so you first find a recurrence relation for
the sequence, then you use it to generate data, and finally you use induction to prove any
patterns that you find. If you have prior experience with induction and recurrence relations,
then you should try some of the problems and move quickly to the subsequent chapters.
However, gaining experience with setting up recurrence relations by doing problems – maybe
concurrently as you work on later chapters – is highly recommended. The optional Section 1.4
introduces you to two possible methods for attacking recurrence relations.
1.1 Induction
Warm-Up 1.1. You have 100 briefcases numbered 1 through 100. You are told that, for any
positive integer n, if a briefcase numbered n holds cash, then so does the briefcase numbered
n + 3. You open up briefcase numbered 55 and it has a stuffed animal in it. Can you conclude
anything about any of the other briefcases? What?
In philosophy and in the sciences, the inductive method refers to the process of starting
with observations and then looking for general laws and theories. Mathematical induction –
which we just call induction – is quite different. For us, induction is a method of proof. When
we have an infinite sequence P1 , P2 , . . ., Pn , . . . of (related) mathematical statements that need
a proof, then instead of proving each one of these statements, we may be able to just prove
that whenever one of the statements is true, then so is the next statement (in other words, if
Pk is true, then so is Pk+1 ). If we manage such a feat, then proving P1 , the first statement,
6
1.1 Induction 7
1 3
7
4
6 5
Figure 1.1 Three intersecting lines that do not all go through one point split the plane into seven regions.
starts a domino effect resulting in all of the statements being true. We state this principle and
then give an example.
Principle of Mathematical Induction.

Given an infinite sequence of propositions
P1,P2,P3, . . . ,Pn, . . . ,
in order to prove that all of them are true, it is enough to show two things:
• The base case: P1 is true.
• The inductive step: For all positive integers k, if Pk is true, then so is Pk+1 .
Example 1.2. Prove that for any integer n ≥ 1, we have
n(n + 1)
1 + 2 + 3 + ··· + n = .
2
Proof. Even though the statement that we want to prove is one formula, in actuality, we are
trying to prove an infinite number of statements. The first few are:
1·2
For n = 1 1= 2
2·3
For n = 2 1+2= 2
3·4
For n = 3 1+2+3= 2 .
These first few statements can be checked directly and are true. This may be assuring and
tempt us to think that the pattern must continue, but that is not a proof. It is possible that
the pattern breaks down only when n is very large. This is exactly the kind of situation where
proof by induction may come in handy (for this particular problem, there are a multitude of
other methods of proof that could also be used). To do a proper proof by induction, we need
to check the first case of our statement (e.g., when n = 1) and then also prove the general
statement that, no matter what k is, if we know that the statement is true for n = k, then it
must also be true for n = k+1. In other words, we show that if one of these statements is true,
then so is the next one. It follows that since the first statement is true, then so is the second
statement, and since the second statement is true, then so is the third statement, and so on.
In a proof by induction, we have to be clear what exactly is the statement that we are trying
to prove and what is the parameter that we are inducting on. In our case, we are to prove
n(n + 1)
Pn : 1 + 2 + · · · + n =
2
for n any positive integer. We proceed to prove this statement by induction on n (this means
that n is the parameter that is being incremented). The first statement (i.e., for n = 1) is
1(2)
P1 : 1 = ,
2
which is clearly correct. Now for the inductive step we can assume that Pk is true and we have
to prove (using the fact that Pk is known to be true) that Pk+1 is also true. In other words we
assume that
k(k + 1)
Pk : 1 + 2 + · · · + k =
2
is true, and we have to prove that
(k + 1)(k + 2)
Pk+1 : 1 + 2 + · · · + k + (k + 1) =
2
is also true.
We now start with 1 + 2 + · · · + k + (k + 1) and try to show that it is equal to (k+1)(k+2)
2 . To
begin with, 1 + 2 + · · · + k + (k + 1) = [1 + 2 + · · · + k] + (k + 1) and we had declared that
we can assume that 1 + 2 + · · · + k = k(k+1)
2 (this does feel like cheating, but it is not, since
as part of the inductive argument, our aim is not to directly prove Pk+1 but to prove that Pk
implies Pk+1 ). So we have
1 + 2 + · · · + k + (k + 1) = [1 + 2 + · · · + k] + (k + 1)
k(k + 1) k(k + 1) + 2(k + 1)
= + (k + 1) =
2 2
(k + 1)(k + 2)
= ,
2
and the proof is complete.
Remark 1.3. The sequence of integers

1, 3 = 1 + 2, 6 = 1 + 2 + 3, 10 = 1 + 2 + 3 + 4, 15 = 1 + 2 + 3 + 4 + 5, . . .
are called triangular numbers since they count the number of dots in progressively larger
triangles (see Figure 1.2). We will continue to run into this sequence of numbers throughout
the text. In Example 1.2, we proved, by induction, that the nth triangular number is n(n+1)/2.
We didn’t have to use induction, and, in fact, we could have discovered the formula by first
writing the sum 1 + 2 + · · · + n twice, as follows:
1 + 2 + 3 + · · · + (n − 1) + n
n + (n − 1) + (n − 2) + · · · + 2 + 1
Problems 9
Now, the sum of the two numbers in each column is n + 1 and there are n columns. So the
total sum of all the numbers listed is n(n + 1). It follows that 1 + 2 + · · · + n is half of this
number and equal to n(n + 1)/2.
1 3 6 10 15 21 ···
Figure 1.2 The triangular numbers.
Remark 1.4. One drawback of induction is that to use it, you already have to know the pattern
and the answer. Mathematical induction – unlike the inductive method in science – does not
help in finding the pattern. One strength of induction is that it allows you to use Pk to prove
Pk+1 . This is a big advantage – it almost seems like cheating – since often Pk looks very much
like Pk+1 .
Remark 1.5. We write mathematics in paragraphs consisting of English as well as mathemat-

ical sentences. If you write 2n+1 − 1, then this is not a sentence since it does not have a verb.
On the other hand,
1 + 2 + 22 + · · · + 2n = 2n+1 − 1
is a sentence. The equality symbol = reads as “is equal to” and provides the verb for the
sentence. This is not quite a complete sentence, since it is not clear what n is. Could n be the
number π? Could it be an apple? If we write
1 + 2 + 22 + · · · + 2n = 2n+1 − 1, where n is a positive integer,
then we have a complete mathematical statement (or sentence). Such a statement may be true
or false. If we believe that it is true, we look for a proof. If we believe it false, then we try to
come up with a counter-example.
Problems
P 1.1.1. Problem 79 in the Ahmes–Rhind Papyrus1 is translated as “An estate’s inventory consists
of 7 houses, 49 cats, 343 mice, 2401 spelt plants, and 16807 units of heqat. List the items
1 Named after the scribe Ahmes who copied it circa 1650 BCE from an older, now lost, text, or more commonly after
Henry Rhind who purchased it in 1858 in Luxor, Egypt. The papyrus contains 87 mathematics problems and is an
indispensable source for the study of ancient Egyptian mathematics. The majority of this papyrus is now kept at the
British Museum in London (it was object #17 in the Museum’s much-recommended radio series and podcast “A
History of the World in 100 Objects”), with a few small fragments at the Brooklyn Museum in New York City.
in the estate’s inventory as a table, and include their total.”2 For this problem, one of the
solutions in the papyrus is merely to find 7 × 2801 = 19,607. Is this solution correct? Write
a general mathematical statement that captures this solution.
P 1.1.2. You notice that
52 − 1
1+5=
5−1
53−1
1 + 5 + 52 =
5−1
2 3 ?
1+5+5 +5 = .
5−1
(a) Is there a continuing pattern? If so, express it as a complete mathematical sentence,
and prove it using induction.
(b) Can we replace 5 with an arbitrary real number a? If so, state the more general result.
Does your proof for a = 5 generalize?
(c) Does your identity work for a = 1?
P 1.1.3. Let a be an arbitrary real number other than 1, and n a non-negative integer. Let
S = 1 + a + a2 + · · · + an .
(a) What is aS − S?
(b) Can you use your result for the previous part to find S?
(c) Is what you did related to Problem P 1.1.2? Do you need to prove your formula for S
(using induction, for example) or have you already proved it?
P 1.1.4. Recall that, for n a positive integer, n! = n(n−1)(n−2) · · · 3×2×1. Calculate the following:
1(1! ) + 1
1(1! ) + 2(2! ) + 1
1(1! ) + 2(2! ) + 3(3! ) + 1,
find a pattern, express it in mathematical notation, and prove it.
P 1.1.5. Calculate the following:
3 [1 · 2]
3 [1 · 2 + 2 · 3]
3 [1 · 2 + 2 · 3 + 3 · 4]
2 This problem is related to the St. Ives nursery rhyme (circa 1730). A later version reads:
As I was going to St. Ives,

I met a man with seven wives,
Each wife had seven sacks,
Each sack had seven cats,
Each cat had seven kits:
Kits, cats, sacks, and wives,
How many were there going to St. Ives?
Problems 11
Do you see a pattern? Does it continue? Express your conjecture as a complete mathemat-
ical sentence, and prove it.
P 1.1.6. Let n be a positive integer. We want to discover and prove a formula for
12 + 22 + · · · + n2 .
Do so by using the following steps.

STEP 1: Do Problem P 1.1.5, and use the result to find and prove a formula for

n
k(k + 1).
k=1
STEP 2: Is nk=1 k(k + 1) = nk=1 k2 + nk=1 k?

STEP 3: Use Steps 1 and 2, as well as Example 1.2, to prove a formula for 12 + 22 + · · · + n2 .
1
1·2
1 1
+
1·2 2·3
1 1 1
+ + .
1·2 2·3 3·4
Find a pattern, express it as a proper mathematical sentence, and prove it.

1
1·3
1 1
+
1·3 3·5
1 1 1
+ + .
1·3 3·5 5·7
Find a pattern, express it as a mathematical sentence, and prove it.

1
2·5
1 1
+
2·5 5·8
1 1 1
+ + .
2 · 5 5 · 8 8 · 11
Find a pattern, express it as a mathematical sentence, and prove it.

P 1.1.10. In Problem P 1.1.6, you were asked to find a formula for the sum of the squares of
integers. What about the alternating sum of squares? To explore this question, calculate
the following:
12
12 − 22
12 − 22 + 32
12 − 22 + 32 − 42 .
Find a pattern, express it in suitable mathematical notation, and prove it.

P 1.1.11. In Example 1.2 we found the sum of the first n integers. What about the alternating sum
of the first n integers? Calculate
1
1−2
1−2+3
1−2+3−4
and find a pattern. To express the pattern as a mathematical sentence, you may want to
use the ceiling function. If r is a real number, then r is defined to be the closest integer
to r that is also bigger or equal to r (in other words, r is the smallest integer greater than
or equal to r). After expressing your pattern as a mathematical sentence, prove it using
induction.
(1 − 1/2)
(1 − 1/2)(1 − 1/3)
(1 − 1/2)(1 − 1/3)(1 − 1/4).
Use the data to make a conjecture. Then prove your conjecture.

(1 − 1/4)
(1 − 1/4)(1 − 1/9)
(1 − 1/4)(1 − 1/9)(1 − 1/16).
Use the data to make a conjecture. Then prove your conjecture.

P 1.1.14. We want to find an identity for
12 + 32 + 52 + · · · + (2n − 1)2 .
Problems 13
In a dream, I am told to calculate the following:
1
1 + 3(12 )
4
1
2 + 3(12 + 32 )
4
1
3 + 3(12 + 32 + 52 ) .
4
Is there a pattern? Even if there is, can you use it to find an identity for the original
expression? Can you prove the identity?
P 1.1.15. A skeptical friend offers a proof by induction that all people have the same favorite color.
To be precise, she states the result as the following:
For n a positive integer, Pn is the statement “In a set of n people, everyone has the same
favorite color.”
We want to prove an infinite set of statements P1 , P2 , . . ., Pn , . . ., and we proceed by
using mathematical induction. We induct on n.
The base case P1 is clearly true since in any set consisting of just one person, all the
people in that set—namely that one person—will have the same favorite color.
For the inductive case, we get to assume Pk and prove Pk+1 . Hence, we know it to be
true that if a group of k people are singled out, then they will all have the same favorite
color. So consider a group of k + 1 people. Line them up in a row, and ask the first k
people to step forward. This is a set of k people and so by the inductive hypothesis, they
all have the same favorite color. Now ask the last k people in the line to step forward. By
the inductive hypothesis, this k people will have the same favorite color as well. But there
are some people who are in both sets of k people (the first k and the last k) and so the
two sets must have had the same favorite color. We conclude that all k + 1 people have the
same favorite color. The proof is now complete.
Please comment.
P 1.1.16. Consider the following sequence of numbers: 4, 12, 32, 80, 192, . . ., where the formula for
the nth number is (n + 1)2n . For n = 1, 2, and 3, we find the average of the first n integers
in this sequence:
4
=4
1
4 + 12
=8
2
4 + 12 + 32
= 16.
3
Could it be that the averages are always a power of 2? Make a precise conjecture and
prove it.
P 1.1.17. We calculate
5+2=7 52 + 22 = 29
53 + 23 = 7 × 19 54 + 24 = 641
55 + 25 = 7 × 11 × 41 56 + 26 = 29 × 541
and notice that every other one is divisible by 7. Does this pattern continue? Prove your
assertion.
P 1.1.18. In Problem P 1.1.17, we notice that 29 occurred twice as a prime factor. Being curious, we
calculate
510 + 210 = 9,766,649 = 29 × 61 × 5521.
Make a conjecture and prove it.

P 1.1.19. Let n be a positive integer. We want to compare 2n and n2 . Which one is bigger? We
calculate that 23 < 32 but 26 > 62 . Make a precise conjecture and prove it using induction.
P 1.1.20. Let n be a positive integer. We want to compare 3n and n!. Which one is bigger? Make a
precise conjecture and prove it using induction.
P 1.1.21. Bernoulli’s Inequality. Let n be a positive integer and x a real number greater than −1.
Prove that
(1 + x)n ≥ 1 + nx.
P 1.1.22. Let n be a positive integer, and let f (x) be an infinitely differentiable function, and let
g(x) = xf (x). What is the nth derivative of g(x) (with respect to x) in terms of the
derivatives of f (x)? By calculating the answer for small values of n, find a pattern, and
prove it by induction.
P 1.1.23. The function y = ex is familiar to you from calculus. The domain of this function (the
values of x that you are allowed to plug in) can be the set of all real numbers. If you study
complex analysis, then you are introduced to a definition of this exponential function
even if x is a complex number. You then prove (or actually you could even take this
as the definition) that eix = cos(x) + i sin(x), providing a surprising expression for the
exponential function as a combination of two periodic functions. You also prove that this
new expanded exponential function continues to satisfy the usual rules of exponents and
n
so eix = einx , and as a result
(cos(x) + i sin(x))n = cos(nx) + i sin(nx).
Give a direct proof of this last identity using induction.

P 1.1.24. In a certain government there are n cabinet ministers. Each of these has a senior aide.
Exactly k of these n aides leak important information to the press. None of the ministers
knows whether their own aide leaks information or not. However, because of interdepart-
mental rivalries, every minister has many sources in the other ministries, and thus is aware
of all the leaks outside of her ministry.
1.2 Strong Induction 15
There is an unspoken law in this government that as soon as any minister has irrefutable
proof that their aide leaked information, they must fire the aide at their first press
conference. Every ministry has one press conference per day at exactly 8:00 a.m.
For a long time no one is fired, because no minister is aware of the leaks, if any, made
by their own aide. One afternoon a newspaper runs a story, and announces that news has
been leaked by some of the top aides. Exactly k days later, all the guilty aides are fired.
What happened?
1.2 Strong Induction

Warm-Up 1.6. You again have 100 briefcases numbered 1 through 100, and you are again told
that, for any positive integer n, if a briefcase numbered n holds cash, then so does the briefcase
numbered n + 3. This time you open up the briefcases numbered 1, 8, and 15, and they all have
cash in them. What can you conclude about the other briefcases? Why?
In the original formulation of mathematical induction, given a sequence P1 , P2 , . . ., Pn ,

. . . of statements, we would attempt to show that Pk+1 is true given that Pk – the statement
immediately preceding it – was already proven true. However, in proving Pk+1 , we don’t have
to rely just on the truth of Pk . If need be, we can use any of the earlier statements. This more
general method of proof is called strong induction. Here is one formulation:
Principle of Strong Induction.

Given an infinite sequence of propositions
P1,P2,P3, . . . ,Pn, . . . ,
in order to demonstrate that all of them are true, it is enough to know two things:
• The base case: P1 is true.
• The inductive step: For all integers k ≥ 1, if P1,P2,P3, . . . ,Pk are true, then so is Pk+1 .
Example 1.7. In the game of Nim, there are two players and two piles of matches. The players
take turns choosing a pile and then taking as many matches as they want from that pile. Each
player at each turn must take at least one match. The player who takes the last match wins.
CLAIM: In the case when the two piles have an equal (positive) number of matches, the second
player can always win.
Proof. Whenever the first player takes a number of matches from a pile, the second player
counters by taking the same number of matches from the other pile. We claim that this is a
winning strategy for the second player.
Let n be the number of matches in each pile. We prove our claim by (strong) induction on n.
For the base case, if n = 1, then the first player has to take the one match in one of the
piles. The second player reciprocates and wins the game.
For the inductive step, assume that the claim is true for all n ≤ k, and consider the case
n = k + 1. In the first round of the game, the first player takes a non-zero number of matches
from one pile, and the second player reciprocates by taking exactly the same number of
matches from the other pile. At this point, the two piles have an equal number of matches.
But this number is less than k + 1. If the number of remaining matches is zero, then the
second player has already won. Otherwise, we have a game of Nim with equal piles and with
a smaller n. By strong induction, the second player’s strategy will win.
Note that in Example 1.7 we had to use strong induction since, after the first move by each
player, we would not know how many matches were left in each pile. To show that Player
2’s strategy is successful with piles of k + 1 matches, it would not have been enough to only
consider the case with k matches in each pile.
The Base Case for Strong Induction

The base case for an inductive proof is crucial. Without it the domino would not start. In the
formulation of strong induction that we presented earlier, you prove one base case P1 and
then prove that Pk is true assuming that every one of P1 , P2 , . . ., Pk−1 is true. This certainly
works, since the truth of P1 implies the truth of P2 , and the truth of P1 and P2 then implies the
truth of P3 , and so on. However, there are other variations on strong induction. For example,
in your proof of the inductive step, you may always need three prior cases to prove the new
case. In other words, to prove Pk , maybe you use every one of Pk−3 , Pk−2 , and Pk−1 . Such
an argument would not apply to P3 or P2 , and you would need the truth of each of P1 , P2 ,
and P3 to conclude that P4 is true. Thus, in such a case, for the base case of induction, you
would have to prove P1 , P2 , and P3 , and not just P1 . Given the many varieties of arguments
in inductive proofs, there is no general rule, and you have to look at your inductive argument
to see exactly which statements are needed to get it started.
Problems
P 1.2.1. In a game of football, a touchdown (with conversion) is worth 7 points and a field goal is
worth 3 points. Let n denote the total number of points in a football game. What are the
possible values of n if only touchdowns (with conversion) and field goals are used?
P 1.2.2. I have an infinite supply of 4 and 5 cent stamps. I want to combine my 4 and 5 cent stamps
to get exactly n cents worth of stamps. For which values of n can I succeed?
P 1.2.3. A specific statement about the positive integer n is denoted by P(n). We can prove that,
whenever P(k) is true, then P(k + 1) is also true. It is also known that P(47) is false. Given
only this information, what is the strongest conclusion that follows?
Problems 17
1.2.1 The Piṅgala–Fibonacci and Lucas Numbers

Define a sequence of positive integers as follows: F0 = 0, F1 = 1, and for n = 2,3, . . . we have
Fn = Fn−2 + Fn−1 .
Thus, for example, F2 = F0 +F1 = 1 and F3 = F1 +F2 = 2. This sequence is almost universally
called the Fibonacci sequence, but we choose to call it the Piṅgala–Fibonacci sequence.3 The
first few terms of the Piṅgala–Fibonacci sequence starting with F0 are
0,1,1,2,3,5,8,13,21, . . .
If we use the same (recursive) rule but change the initial values, we, of course, will get a
different sequence. For example, if L0 = 2, L1 = 1, and Ln = Ln−2 + Ln−1 , then we get the
Lucas numbers:4
2,1,3,4,7,11,18,29,47, . . .
Problems (continued)
P 1.2.4. We notice that the Lucas numbers are mostly different than the Piṅgala–Fibonacci
numbers. Is there any relation? For example, 7 = 2 + 5 and 11 = 3 + 8. Can we write
every Lucas number in terms of Piṅgala–Fibonacci numbers? Prove your assertion(s).5
P 1.2.5. Let F0,F1, . . . ,Fn, . . . denote the Piṅgala–Fibonacci sequence. We notice that
F1 = 1 = F2
F1 + F3 = 3 = F4
F1 + F3 + F5 = 8 = F6 .
Make a conjecture and prove it.
P 1.2.6. Let Fn be the nth Piṅgala–Fibonacci number. We consider the sequence of Piṅgala–
Fibonacci numbers together with their squares:
n 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 ...
Fn : 0 1 1 2 3 5 8 13 . . .
Fn2 : 0 1 1 4 9 25 64 169 . . .
3 Generations of commentators in India starting with Ācārya Piṅgala—circa third to second century BCE—studied
the sequence of integers that we are calling the Piṅgala–Fibonacci numbers. (See Problem P 1.3.5.) According to
Parmanand Singh, “Ācārya Piṅgala is the first authority on the metrical sciences in India whose writings exhibit a
knowledge of the so-called Fibonacci numbers.” (Singh 1985). In Europe, Leonardo of Pisa—he started to be
known as Fibonacci only in the nineteenth century—in his thirteenth-century work Liber Abaci, included a problem
on rabbits that leads to the same sequence. (See Problem P 1.3.6.)
4 Named after the French mathematician Édouard Lucas (1842–1891). Lucas was an artillery officer in the
Franco-Prussian War (1870–1871). After the French defeat, he became a professor of mathematics.
5 Lucas numbers are taken up again in Problem P 1.4.1.
Consider F32 = 4. Of course, 4 = 22 = F32 , but 4 is also close to 1 × 3 = F2 F4 . Likewise,

F42 = 9 is close to F3 × F5 = 10. Is there anything to this observation? Can you write a
formula for Fn2 in terms of other Piṅgala–Fibonacci numbers? Prove your assertion.
P 1.2.7. Let F0,F1,F2, . . . ,Fn, . . . denote the Piṅgala–Fibonacci sequence. Let n be a non-negative
integer. For each of the following, conjecture a general formula (in terms of Piṅgala–
Fibonacci numbers) and then prove it:
(a) F0 + F1 + · · · + Fn
(b) F02 + F12 + · · · + Fn2 .
P 1.2.8. Let F0,F1,F2, . . . ,Fn, . . . denote the Piṅgala–Fibonacci sequence. For each of the follow-
ing conjecture a general formula and then prove it:
(a) F0 + F2 + · · · + F2n
(b) F2 − F3 + F4 − · · · − F2n+1 .
P 1.2.9. For a non-negative integer n, let Fn denote the nth Pi ṅgala–Fibonacci
number. Prove, using
7 n
strong induction, that, for n ≥ 2, we have Fn+2 < .
4
P 1.2.10. For a non-negative integer n, let Fn denote the nth Piṅgala–Fibonacci number.
(a) Calculate
F0 F4 − F2 F3
F1 F5 − F3 F4
F2 F6 − F4 F5 .
Do you see a pattern? Express it as a mathematical statement and prove it.
(b) Two positive integers are said to be relatively prime if their greatest common divisor is
1. Prove that two consecutive Piṅgala–Fibonacci numbers are relatively prime.
P 1.2.11. Start with 0 and 1 and take their average. You get 1/2. Take the average of 1 and 1/2, and
get 3/4. Now take the average of 1/2 and 3/4 to get 5/8. In this manner create a sequence
that starts with 0 and 1 and every term (after the second term) is the average of the two
numbers immediately preceding it. Thus the sequence begins as
1 3 5 11 21
0,1, , , , , , . . .
2 4 8 16 32
(a) Formulate a conjecture about the nth term of the sequence, and then prove it.
(b) Does this sequence converge? If it does, what is the limit of the sequence?
P 1.2.12. We have an 8 × 8 chess board with 64 squares. We want to tile this board with pieces that
are made of three squares as shown:
The three squares on the above piece are identical to the squares on the board, and we
want each piece to cover exactly three squares of the board. Because 3 does not divide
64, we cannot completely tile the board. So we cut one square out of the board, leaving
63 squares. Can we now tile the board with 21 pieces? Does the answer depend on which
square we cut out? Make as precise a conjecture as possible.
Can you generalize your conjecture and prove it?
1.3 Recurrence Relations

Warm-Up 1.8. We have n dollars. Every day we buy exactly one of the following products:
Mustard (1 dollar), Mint (2 dollars), Marjoram (2 dollars). Let f (n) be the number of possible
ways of spending all the money. For example, f (3) = 5, since the possible ways of spending
3 dollars are: Mustard-Mustard-Mustard, Mustard-Mint, Mustard-Marjoram, Mint-Mustard,
and Marjoram-Mustard. What is f (1), and f (2)? Which one(s) (if any) of the following are
true?
(a) f (n) = 2f (n − 1) + f (n − 3)
(n−1)
(b) f (n) = f (n − 1) + 2 [3 + (−1) ]
n
(c) f (n) = f (n − 1) + 2f (n − 2)
(d) f (n) = 2f (n − 1) − f (n − 2).
Give adequate and complete reasoning for your answer.
In the warm-up problem, you are asked to find a formula for f (n) but not the usual kind
of formula of f (n) in terms of n. What you are asked to do is to find a formula that gives f (n)
in terms of f (n − 1), f (n − 2), and possibly other values of the f function. Such a relation
is called a recurrence relation and, while it does not give a direct closed formula for f (n), it
provides an efficient way for computing specific values of the function f . We illustrate the
construction and use of recurrence relations by restating and solving the opening problem of
the chapter.
Problem 1.9. On a large square piece of paper, I draw 100 straight lines that start from one side
of the square and end on another side. Each two of the lines intersect but no three (or more) lines
go through the same point. Into how many regions do the lines split the piece of paper? If instead
of 100, I had drawn only 3 lines, the answer would have been 7, as illustrated in Figure 1.1.
Solution. This problem is an instance of a sequence of problems. Let n be a positive integer,
and let f (n) denote the number of regions created by n straight lines assuming that each pair
of lines intersects and no three lines go through the same point. The problem is asking for
f (100), while Figure 1.1 shows that f (3) = 7. It is easy enough to see that f (1) = 2 and
f (2) = 4. It is already a bit tedious to find f (4). In fact, it is not even clear that the problem is
well posed. In other words, how do we know that the number of regions does not depend on
the configuration of the lines? Maybe if we draw the lines in a different relation to each other,
the number of regions will change. For n = 1 and 2, it is clear that the number of regions is
always 2 and 4, but for larger n, we need some kind of an argument.
Instead of trying to find a formula for f (n) or even trying to prove that f (n) is independent
of the position of the lines, we try to determine f (n) in terms of f (n − 1). Not only will this
allow us to inductively start with f (1) and f (2) and find other values of f (n), but it could also
show that f (n) is well defined. We do a thought experiment. Assume that n − 1 straight lines
split the plane into f (n − 1) regions. How many additional regions are created when we add
one more line?
If we just zoom onto this new line and follow its path, it will start from one side of the
square, one by one cross the n − 1 other lines, and end at another side of the square. Hence, it
will go through n regions created by the original n−1 lines. (The first region is the one our line
is traversing before it hits the first line, the second region is between the first and the second,
and so on until the (n − 1)th region – that is, between the (n − 2)th and (n − 1)th lines. Finally,
the nth region is after the (n − 1)th line.) Our new line will split each of these n regions into
two, and as a result will add n regions to what was there before. We conclude that, for n > 1,
f (n) = f (n − 1) + n.
This allows us to calculate further values of f (n). For example, f (4) = f (3) + 4 = 11
and f (5) = f (4) + 5 = 16. The relationship also proves that f (n) does not depend on the
configuration of the lines, and that it is well defined. (After all, no matter how the lines are
configured, if f (n−1) is well-defined, then f (n) must be f (n−1)+n. Since f (1) is well defined,
by induction all values of f (n) are well defined.) Note that we could have even started with
the case n = 0. Clearly, f (0) = 1, and our formula now gives f (1) = f (0) + 1 = 2. We list the
first few terms of this sequence:
n 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
f (n) 2 4 7 11 16 22 29 37 46 56
At this point, we could, either patiently by hand or more efficiently by a simple computer
program, find f (100). Sometimes we can do better. We may notice that these numbers are just
one more than the triangular numbers (see Remark 1.3).6 Hence, we claim:
CLAIM: f (n) = 1 + n(n+1)
2 .
But how do we know this claim to be true? We prove it by induction!
We have already checked the base case, so assume that f (k) = 1 + k(k+1) 2 is known to be
(k+1)(k+2)
true, and use it to prove that f (k + 1) = 1 + 2 . We argue as follows (note that we have
already proved that, for n > 1, f (n + 1) = f (n) + n):
k(k + 1)
f (k + 1) = f (k) + (k + 1) = 1 + + (k + 1)
2
k(k + 1) + 2(k + 1) (k + 1)(k + 2)
=1+ =1+ ,
2 2
6 Problem P 1.4.11 suggests techniques, other than guessing the pattern, for completing this problem.
and the proof is complete. We can finally answer the original question:
100 × 101
f (100) = 1 + = 5,051.
2
Remark 1.10. Our solution to Problem 1.9 illustrates a common approach to some combina-
torial problems.
Often a given combinatorial problem is an instance of a sequence of problems indexed by
a positive integer n, where n is a natural parameter for the problem. If we let f (n) denote
the answer to the nth instance of our problem, ideally we may want a closed-form formula
for f (n). Sometimes, instead, we can find a “recurrence relation” for f . This means finding a
formula for f (n) in terms of f (n − 1), f (n − 2), . . . (For example, in the previous problem,
the recurrence relation was f (n) = f (n − 1) + n. Another example of a recurrence relation
is f (n) = f (n − 1) + f (n − 2), the defining relation for the sequence of Piṅgala–Fibonacci
numbers; see Section 1.2.1.) Usually, the recurrence relation itself is not proved by induction.
Rather, we often use a “thought experiment.” What are the possibilities for the “first” or
“last” step of the problem? In Problem 1.9, we focused on the last line drawn. Sometimes, for
example in Warm-Up 1.8, it is useful to concentrate on the first step.
After we have a recurrence relation and a few base cases, we can easily generate data and
record many values for f (n). At this point, there are a number of possible approaches:
• Use a simple computer program to find any particular value of f (n) that you need.
• Look at the values of f (n) for small n and try to guess the pattern. If your guess is correct,
sometimes you can translate it to a closed formula, and often you can prove your conjecture
using induction. Just as in the solution to Problem 1.9, you can use the recurrence relation
in your proof by induction. In fact, recurrence relations are especially suited to help with
proofs by induction.
• Some classes of recurrence relations (e.g., so-called linear recurrence relations) can be
solved systematically (see Section 1.4).
• Sometimes you can “unwind” the recurrence relation (see Section 1.4).
• Sometimes you can use “generating functions” to get information about the sequence f (n)
(see Section 9.2.2).
Guessing the pattern from the starting values of an infinite sequence is not easy. For one
thing, there are many distinct infinite sequences that agree in the first few terms – after all,
there are not that many very small integers, and, in contrast, there are many infinite sequences
of integers. If you have the beginning of a sequence of numbers, and are wondering what
the pattern could be, one very fun tool is the Online Encyclopedia of Integer Sequences at
https://oeis.org/. Try it for the sequence in Problem 1.9.
A recurrence, for the integer valued function f , of the form f (n) = α1 f (n − 1) + α2 f
(n − 2) + · · · + αk f (n − k) + g(n), where α1 , . . ., αk are scalars and g is a function of n, is called
a linear recurrence relation. If you are lucky and the recurrence relation is linear, then the most
fruitful method – this is expanded in Section 1.4 – is to first ignore the initial conditions and
find, basically by an educated guess, a set of functions that satisfy the recurrence relation, and
then use the initial conditions to choose a function that satisfies both the initial conditions
and the recurrence relation. The key observation – which will be used often – is that if two
functions have the same initial values and satisfy the same recurrence conditions, then they
will have to be the same for all later inputs. We will pursue this in Section 1.4, where we explore
both linear recurrence relations and the idea of unwinding a recurrence relation.
Remark 1.11. The problems in this section are meant to give you experience in setting up a
recurrence relation for a counting problem. This skill will be used throughout the book. In
some problems, you are also asked to use the recurrence relation, generate some data, guess
the pattern, and prove it by induction. Some of these problems will be revisited in Section 1.4.
The two techniques of Section 1.4 – solving linear recurrences and unwinding – when
applicable give a better alternative to “guess-the-pattern” of the current section. Yet a fourth
method – using generating functions – will be discussed in Chapter 9.
Problems
P 1.3.1. We are given the following recurrence relation:

a1 = 2, and an = 3an−1 + 2 for n = 2,3, . . .
Find the values of an for small n. Do you see a pattern? Make a conjecture. Prove your
conjecture using induction.7
P 1.3.2. Let n be a non-negative integer. We know that f (0) = −3, and for n = 1,2, . . . we have
f (n) = 3f (n − 1) + 10.
Generate some data, and use the data to conjecture a closed formula for f (n). Prove your
conjecture using induction.
P 1.3.3. Let hn denote the number of ways of covering a 2 × n array with 1 × 2 dominoes (see
Figure 1.3). Find h1 , h2 , h3 , and a recurrence relation for hn . Use these to find h8 .
Figure 1.3 Two possible ways—there are others—of covering a 2 × 4 array with 1 × 2 dominoes.
P 1.3.4. Let n be a positive integer. Consider a 1 × n strip of cardboard. We have (a large number
of) three types of pieces: 1 × 2 red pieces, 1 × 4 yellow pieces, and 1 × 4 blue pieces. Let f (n)
be the number of ways that we can tile the strip of cardboard with our pieces. For example,
7 Problem P 1.4.10 revisits this problem.

Problems 23
f (3) = 0 since you cannot tile a 1 × 3 board with the available pieces, while f (6) = 5 since
the possibilities are YR,RY,RB,BR,RRR. Find f (14). (Give an actual number.)
P 1.3.5. Generations of Indian commentators, apparently beginning with Piṅgala in the third to
second century BCE, were interested in the number of rhythmic patterns having a total of
n beats. Assuming that we use only one-beat and two-beat rhythms, how many different
patterns can we make that have a total of n beats? For example, if n = 4, we can have
2 − 2, 2 − 1 − 1, 1 − 2 − 1, 1 − 1 − 2, and 1 − 1 − 1 − 1 for a total of 5 possibilities. If
we denote the answer by r(n), then find a recurrence relation for r(n). Is r(n) related to the
Piṅgala–Fibonacci numbers?
P 1.3.6. In his 1202 book Liber Abaci, Leonardo of Pisa (known as Fibonacci since the nineteenth
century) poses the following problem:
A certain man put a pair of rabbits in a place surrounded on all sides by a wall. How many pairs of
rabbits can be produced from that pair in a year if it is supposed that every month each pair begets
a new pair which from the second month on becomes productive?
Give a solution. Is this related to the Piṅgala–Fibonacci numbers? How?

P 1.3.7. Assume that, for n ≥ 3, the sequence a1 , . . ., an , . . . satisfies the recurrence relation
an = an−1 + an−2 . Assume further that we know that a2 = 3 and a50 = 300. Find
a1 + a2 + · · · + a48 and justify your answer.
P 1.3.8. You work at a car dealership that sells three models: A pickup truck, an SUV, and a
compact hybrid. Your job is to park the vehicles in a row. The pickup trucks and the SUVs
take up two spaces while the hybrid takes up one space. Let n be a positive integer and let
f (n) be the number of ways of arranging vehicles in exactly n spaces. Find a recurrence
relation for f (n) and use it to find f (10), the number of ways of arranging vehicles if you
have 10 parking spaces.
P 1.3.9. Continuing with the assumptions and the notation of Problem P 1.3.8.
(a) Find f (1), . . ., f (5).
(b) Find and prove a one-step recurrence relation for f (n) (i.e., one that only depends on
f (n − 1)).
(c) Find and prove a formula for f (n) of the form
1 n+1
f (n) = (2 +?).8
?
P 1.3.10. At a dinner party on the spaceship Enterprise, three life forms are present: Humans,
Klingons, and Romulans. The dinner table is a long 1 × n board, and the life forms sit on
one side of it, next to one another. From each life form there are more than n individuals
present, and so only a total of n sit at the table. The only problem is that no two humans
want to sit next to each other. Let hn denote the number of different ways that n individuals
can be seated at the dinner table. Assume that all humans look alike, as do all Klingons
and all Romulans.
8 Problems P 1.4.2 and P 1.4.14 revisit this problem.

(a) What is h1 ? What is h2 ?

(b) Which one(s) (if any) of the following are true, and which are false?
(i) hn = 3hn−1 − hn−2
(ii) hn = 2hn−1 + 2hn−2
(iii) hn = 3hn−1 − (n − 1)!
(iv) hn = hn−1 + 3hn−2 + 2hn−3 .
Give adequate and complete reasoning for your answers.9
P 1.3.11. Using only the digits 1, 2, and 3, how many integers can you construct in a way that the
sum of the digits is 9? Examples would be 333, 1323, 2133, and 22221.
P 1.3.12. I have 12 identical irises and 4 distinct flowerpots. All the irises are to be planted, and I
want to plant 2, 3, or 4 irises in each pot. I am interested in finding out the number of
ways that this can be done. We first generalize the question. Given n identical irises and k
distinct pots, let F(n,k) be the number of ways that we can distribute the irises among the
pots if each pot gets 2, 3, or 4 irises.
(a) Find F(5,2).
(b) Find a recurrence relation for F(n,k). Explain your reasoning.
(c) Find F(n,k) for the given values of n and k in Table 1.1.
(d) What is F(12,4)? Why?
Table 1.1 The values of F(n,k) in Problem P 1.3.12.
n\k 1 2 3
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
P 1.3.13. Two thick panes of glass are adjacent to each other. Light that enters from one side can
be reflected by the internal faces. In other words, after entering the medium, the light may
go straight through or be reflected back and forth by the three internal faces, as shown in
Figure 1.4. Let an be the number of different ways that the light can be reflected n times.

Problems 25
Figure 1.4 shows that a0 = 1, a1 = 2, and a2 = 3. Find a recurrence relation for an . Use
the recurrence relation to find a7 .10
A A A
A A A
A A A A A A A A
A A A A A A A A
A A A A A A A
A A A A A A A
A AU AU AU
U
A
Figure 1.4 The possibilities, respectively, with 0, 1, or 2 reflections for Problem P 1.3.13.
P 1.3.14. Let n be a positive integer, and let h(n) be the number of sequences
a1,a2, · · · ,an,
with the conditions that for i = 1, . . . ,n, each ai is 0, 4, or 7, and each 4 in the sequence is
immediately followed by a 7.
(a) Find h(1), and h(2).
(b) Find a recurrence relation for h(n). Use it to find h(5).
(c) I entered the first few terms of the sequence into the Online Encyclopedia of Integer
Sequences, and it told me that a formula for h(n) could be
√ √
(1 + 2)n+1 − (1 − 2)n+1
h(n) = √ .
2 2
Is this true? Prove your assertion.11
P 1.3.15. Let h(0) = 1 and let h(n) be the number of sequences
a1,a2, · · · ,an,
with the conditions that, for i = 1, . . . n, each ai is 0, 4, or 7, and if both 4 and 7 occur in
the sequence then the first 4 occurs before the first 7.
(a) Find h(1) and h(2).
(b) Find a recurrence relation for h(n).
(c) What is h(5)?12
P 1.3.16. You are interested in finding the number of sequences
a1,a2, . . . ,an,
such that each ai is 0, 1, 2, 3, or 4 and the number of 3’s in the sequence is even. Denote
the number of such sequences by E(n).
(a) Find E(1) and E(2).
10 Adapted from Moser and Wyman 1963.
12 This problem is continued in Problem P 1.4.16.
(b) Let O(n) be the number of sequences a1,a2, . . . ,an such that each ai is from the set
{0,1,2,3,4} and the number of 3’s in the sequence is odd. How is O(n) related to E(n)?
(c) Find a recurrence relation for E(n) and state clearly your reasoning for why it works.
(d) Find E(4).13
P 1.3.17. We want to divide $275,000 among four people. We have to divide all the money, and we
can only divide the money in $25,000 increments. In how many ways can this be done?
Make a conjecture.
To make the question clear, let us consider a simpler example. If we had $100,000 to
divide among four people, then we could give all of it to one person, give $50,000 to
two people, give $75,000 to one person and $25,000 to another, give $50,000 to one and
$25,000 to two others, or finally give $25,000 to each of the four people. Thus we can
divide $100,000 among four people in five different ways. Note that we consider the four
people indistinguishable. If it mattered to us who got how much, then the number of ways
of dividing the money would have been considerably higher.14
P 1.3.18. The Gamma Function. Let x be a positive real number. Define the function (x) by
∞
(x) = tx−1 e−t dt.
0
The integral defining (x) is an improper integral—since one of the end points is ∞—and
yet it converges for all x > 0. (This is not hard to prove using standard calculus techniques,
and you are welcome to try, but for the purposes of this problem, you can assume that the
integral converges for all x > 0. In fact, interesting things happen when one extends the
definition to complex numbers.)
(a) What is (1)?
x
(b) Use integration by parts, and the fact that, for a fixed x, limt→∞ tet = 0, to prove the
following recurrence relation for (x):
(x + 1) = x(x).
(c) Use the recurrence relation to find (2), . . ., (5). If n is a positive integer, what is
(n)? Prove your assertion using induction.
(d) The Encyclopedia Britannica entry for the Gamma function [Encyclopedia Britannica
2019] begins: “Gamma function, generalization of the factorial function to nonin-
tegral values introduced by the Swiss mathematician Leonhard Euler in the 18th
century.” Explain the relation of the Gamma function to the factorial function.
P 1.3.19. Define a selfish set to be a set which has its own cardinality (number of elements) as an
element.15 A set is a minimal selfish set if it is selfish, and no proper subset of it is selfish.
So, for example, {2,47} is a minimal selfish set, {2,3,5} is selfish but not minimal, while
{4,5,6} is not selfish at all. Let n be a positive integer, and let fn be the number of subsets

15 Adapted from Problem B-1 of the 1996 Putnam Mathematical Competition.
1.4 Linear Recurrences and Unwinding 27
of [n] which are minimal selfish sets. Find a recurrence relation for fn . The following steps
may be helpful:
STEP 1: Find f1 , f2 , and f3 .
STEP 2: Which minimal selfish sets contain 1?
STEP 3: Is the size of a minimal selfish subset of [n] ever n?
STEP 4: What can you say about the number of minimal selfish subsets of [n] that do not
include n?
STEP 5: Assume a minimal selfish subset of [n] includes n. If you subtract 1 from each of
the elements of the subset, and then throw out n − 1, do you get a minimal selfish set?
STEP 6: Write down, with proof, a recurrence relation for fn .
1.4 Linear Recurrence Relations; Unwinding a Recurrence Relation

In this optional section, we consider two methods for attacking recurrence relations. When
they work – and there are many common recurrence relations that can be solved using these
methods – they work well and give a closed formula for the underlying function. However,
there are also plenty of recurrence relations that defy both of these methods.
1.4.1 Linear Recurrence Relations

Warm-Up 1.12. Let f (n) = αn + β, where α and β are two mystery real numbers. Find α and β
such that the resulting function f satisfies the recurrence relation f (n) = 5f (n−1)−6f (n−2) + n.
Recurrence relations can be thought of as the discrete analogs of differential equations, and
as such they are sometimes called difference equations. The idea is that for a function defined
on the integers, you cannot find the usual derivative defined as limh→0 f (n+h)−f h
(n)
since the
domain of the function is only the integers. Hence, the best you can do is to let h = 1 and
find the difference f (n + 1) − f (n) or equivalently f (n) − f (n − 1). If you have a formula for
this latter difference, then you really have a recurrence relation for f (n) in terms of f (n − 1).
From this point of view, a recurrence relation should behave like a differential equation, and
recurrence relations that involve f (n − 2) in addition to f (n − 1) are “similar” to second-order
differential equations. Solving differential equations in general is hard, but solving linear
differential equations with constant coefficients is not. If you have already studied differential
equations, then you will immediately recognize the parallels with our brief presentation here.
We illustrate the ideas with an example.
Example 1.13. Define a function f on non-negative integers as follows: f (0) = 0, f (1) = 1,
and for n ≥ 2, f (n) = 3f (n − 1) + 28f (n − 2). So, f (0) = 0, f (1) = 1, f (2) = 3, f (3) = 37,
f (4) = 195, f (5) = 1621, f (6) = 10323, . . . We want to find a closed formula for f , and
guessing a pattern for the generated data does not seem promising. Here, we first ignore the
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
visit, was destroyed by fire, and the debonair ladies, prancing steeds
and all went up in one great holocaust.
The new house that rose over the ashes was aptly called
Whitehall. It was all white, inside and out, broad, dead white walls,
grand balconies all around the mansion dead white; white steps led
to the lawn, and the trees surrounding had their trunks whitewashed
as high as could be reached by a long pole and a brush. All the old
portraits and some awful prints (it was long before the chromo era)
were fished out of closets and other hiding places and hung about on
the white walls. One old man with a tremendously long neck and a
stiff black stock to help hold up his head, and a fierce look, had a
pair of eyes that looked like great daubs of ink. His portrait decorated
the parlor. I was warned not to handle the gilt-edged books and little
trinkets on the marble-top center-table, “for your Cousin Christopher
will see you; notice, whichever way you turn his eyes will follow you.”
I was mortally afraid of that old spook till little black Comfort told me,
“Laws! if dem eyes could hurt we’d all be’n daid in dis house.”
At “The Oaks,” Dr. Patrick’s plantation, the wall paper illustrated
scenes from China, in colors not gorgeous, like the last mentioned,
neither was the house so pretentious. There was no broad, high
ceilinged hall to ornament with startling figures that seemed to jump
at you. The orderly processions of pigtailed Chinamen in sepia tints
could not by any possibility get on one’s nerves. Whole processions
wended their way to impossible temples, wedding processions,
palanquins, and all that; funeral processions dwindled away to a
mere point in the distance, all becomingly solemn, until some of the
irrepressible Patrick children, with black pencil, or charcoal, or ink,
put pipes into all the mouths and clouds of smoke therefrom spotted
the landscape. Moral suasion was the discipline of the Patrick
children, so that freak was not probably followed by after-claps, but
the Chinese were promptly marched off, and the inevitable white
walls were the result.
Family portraits came forth to brighten the room. One notable one
that superseded the Chinese wall paper was a full-length portrait of
Gov. Poindexter’s (everybody knows “Old Poins” was the first
Governor of the State of Mississippi) first wife, who was a sister of
Mrs. Patrick. She was a vision of beauty, in full evening dress.
Facing her was the glum, “sandy complected” Governor, not one bit
fascinated by the sight of his wife’s smiling face.
The fashionable portrait painter of the time was Moïse; it was he
who painted the author’s portrait shortly after her marriage. He was a
dashing, improvident genius, and many of his portraits were
executed to cancel debts. At one time he designed and had made for
my husband, in settlement for a loan, a handsome silver lidded bowl
with alcohol lamp beneath. It was known as a pousse café and was
used to serve hot punch to after-dinner parties. I am glad to say it
has survived all the family vicissitudes, and is an honored heirloom,
in company with a repoussé silver pitcher, which we won as a prize
for cattle at the Louisiana State Fair, described in a later chapter.
At John C. Miller’s place the house was only one story, but it
spread over what seemed to be a half acre of land. A square hall,
which was a favorite lounging place for everybody, had wall paper
delineating scenes from India. Women walked toward the Ganges
river, smilingly tripping along with huge water jars on their shoulders,
in full view of another woman descending the steps of a temple, with
a naked baby, poised aloft, to be thrown into the sacred Ganges. A
crocodile ruffled the blue (very blue) waters, with jaws distended,
ready to complete the sacrifice. That sacred river seemed to course
all around the hall, for on another side were a number of bathers,
who appeared to be utterly oblivious of their vicinity to the mother
and babe, not to mention the awful crocodile.
The culmination of landscape wall paper must have been reached
in the Minor plantation dwelling in Ascension parish. Mrs. Minor had
received this plantation as a legacy, and she was so loyal to the
donor that the entreaties of her children to “cover that wall” did not
prevail. It was after that style of mural decoration was of the past,
that I visited the Minors. The hall was broad and long, adorned with
real jungle scenes from India. A great tiger jumped out of dense
thickets toward savages, who were fleeing in terror. Tall trees
reached to the ceiling, with gaudily striped boa constrictors wound
around their trunks; hissing snakes peered out of jungles; birds of
gay plumage, paroquets, parrots, peacocks everywhere, some way
up, almost out of sight in the greenery; monkeys swung from limb to
limb; ourang-outangs, and lots of almost naked, dark-skinned natives
wandered about. To cap the climax, right close to the steps one had
to mount to the story above was a lair of ferocious lions!
I spent hours studying that astonishing wall paper, and I
applauded Mrs. Minor’s decision, “The old man put it there; it shall
stay; he liked it, so do I.” It was in 1849 I made that never-to-be-
forgotten trip to jungle land. The house may still be there; I don’t
know; but I warrant that decorated hall has been “done over,”
especially if little children ever came to invade the premises. Upon
the departure of landscape wall paper, the pendulum swung to
depressing simplicity of dead white walls or else “pillared and
paneled,” which is scarcely one degree better.
Old portraits and any kind of inartistic picture or print were brought
forth to gratify the eye unaccustomed to such monotony. Only a few
years ago I asked: “What became of that military epauletted portrait
of old Major Messiah that always hung in your mother’s hall when we
were children?” “Oh, it was hanging twenty or more years ago in the
office of a hardware concern down town. Don’t know where it is
now.”
After the war, inquiring for a lot of portraits of various degrees of
merit and demerit that disappeared when the Yankees left, we heard
that some were in negro cabins in West Feliciana. So they come and
are appreciated, those images of loved ones. So they often go, and
are despised by those who follow us, and who, perchance, never
knew the original. Now the questions arise, will landscape wall
papers really return? And in their pristine splendor? Surely the scope
in brilliancy and variety could not be excelled. The limit was reached
almost seventy years ago, and naturally (I was a child then) comes
as vividly to my mind as the counterfeit face of my ancestor with
eyes following me all around the room. The tigers and ourang-
outangs, even the den of lions and the crocodile of the Ganges,
never made my little soul quake like the searching eyes of “my
Cousin Christopher.”
XI
THOUGHTS OF OLD
I shall begin to think I am in my second childhood by and by. I

have just been reading of a fashionable wedding where the bride
and her attendants carried flat bouquets with lace paper frills. I don’t
doubt the revival of the porte bouquet will come next, the slender
bouquet holders made of filigree silver with a dagger like a short
hatpin to stick clear through and secure the bouquet—a chain and
ring attached to the holder and all could be hung from the finger. I
used to think, a childish looker-on, that it was pretty to see the ladies
in a quadrille “balancing to your partners,” “ladies changing,” etc.,
each with a tight little bouquet in a trim little holder swinging and
banging about from the chain.
Later the porte bouquets were abandoned, but the stiff little
posies, in their lacy frills, remained. They were symmetrical, a
camellia japonica, surrounded by a tiny row of heliotrope, then a row
of Grand Duke jasmine, one of violets, finally a soupçon of greenery,
and the paper bed. James Pollock had a fund of such rare flowers to
draw from, for though the Pollock home down on Royal street was
the simplest of old Creole houses, flush on the street, only two steps
from the banquette leading into a modest parlor, there was a tiny
parterre in the rear, a vision of the most choice collection of plants.
How it was managed and cultivated I don’t know, for it was hemmed
in on all sides by buildings that intercepted much of the air and
almost all of the sun’s rays. Still those camellias, Grand Dukes and
violets thrived and bloomed, and delighted the heart of any girl to
whom James, the best dancer in society, sent them in one of those
tight little bouquets on the eve of a dance.
A Creole Parterre.
I have to-day a much larger parterre in my backyard, open to sun

and rain and wind, but no amount of coddling brings anything better
than dock-weed and tie-grass. I leave it to the climate of my own
sunny Southland to explain the problem. The porte bouquet will no
doubt come in time. I for one will hail an old friend, if I am “on deck”
when it arrives.
Last Christmas what should my granddaughter receive but a mob
cap of gold lace! almost exactly like one my mother wore before I
can remember. Caps! Every woman when she arrived at middle age,
and some who found them becoming at an earlier age, wore caps.
My mother was considered very tasty and expert at cap-trimming.
She had a papier mâché, or soft wood dummy head—I know she
stuck pins into it—on which she fashioned her caps.
Mechlin lace (one rarely sees it now) was considered the
fashionable cap lace. Remember cotton laces and Italian laces and
machine-made laces were not in existence in those days, neither
were Hamburg embroideries and Nottingham curtains, two awful
products of to-day; and a thousand other make-believes, cheap and
tawdry now. When mother’s fine Mechlin edgings became soiled she
“did them up” herself, clapping the damp lace in her hands, pulling
out and straightening the delicate edges—drying them without heat;
and she had a deft way, too, of what she called “pinching” with her
dainty fingers; she knife pleated it. The net foundation was fitted to
the wooden head, the lace was attached in folds and frills, and little
pink rosebuds or some other tiny flower scattered tastefully here and
there. Behold a dress cap! One can imagine the care and taste and
time and thought consumed in its manufacture. And how the old lady
must have appeared when in full dress!
Many of those dames wore little bunches of black curls to enhance
the effect, those tight, stiff little curls that looked like they had been
wound on a slate-pencil. Dear Mrs. Leonard Matthews always wore
the black curls. Even a few years after the war I met the sweet old
lady, curls and all, jet black, tight little curls, and she looked scarcely
older than in my earliest recollection of her.
Well, I must return to cap trimmings to tell of a bride. She must
have been in the neighborhood of seventy, for she made what her
friends called a suitable match with a widower long past that age.
They came to the St. Charles Hotel on a kind of honeymoon trip. She
decorated her head, oh, ye cherubim and seraphim! with a fussy cap
sprinkled with sprays of orange flowers!
I, who revel in a towering white pompadour, have just had the
present of a soft silk cap, with frills and bows. I presume it will be
useful on the breezy piazzas of the mountains a week hence; but it
looks to me now that the caps of our mothers and grandmothers are
on the march hitherward. I possess a few “Moniteurs des Dames,”
dated in the late forties, that contain pictures and patterns for
“bonnets,” as they were called. Who knows but they may be useful
yet?
Now, “in regard to” (as a lady we all know prefaces every remark)
—“in regard to” frills, in my young days we had to make our own
frills. Nobody had dreamed even of machine-made ruchings any
more than of vehicles that run all over the streets without the aid of
horses. We made our frills of lawn, neatly gathered on to a band,
and what is more, they had to be fluted with hot irons. The making
was not beyond everybody’s skill, but the “doing up” and fluting was
way beyond me, as beyond many others. How queer it is, when we
recall to mind the images of people so long absent that they are
almost forgotten, the image presents itself, emphasized by some
peculiarity of dress or speech. When I think of Dr. Bein’s daughter
Susanna, whom I knew and loved so well, it is with the beautifully
fluted frill she always wore and so excited my envy. Now, every
Biddy in the kitchen and every little darky one sees wandering
around wears handsomer frills than Susanna and I ever dreamed of.
Parasols had heavy fringes; so, to show to advantage, they were
carried upside down, the ferule end fitted with a ring to be, like the
bouquet holders, hung from the finger. My sister had a blue parasol,
with pink fringe, that I thought too beautiful for words. How I should
laugh at it now!
Best frocks, such as could be utilized for dinners and parties, were
made with short sleeves, “caps,” they were called, and tapes sewed
in the armholes; long sleeves similarly equipped were tied in under
the “caps.” I used to see even party guests take off their sleeves as
they put on their gloves to descend to the dancing room. Black,
heelless slippers, with narrow black ribbons, wound over the instep,
and crossed and recrossed from ankle, way up, over white
stockings, were the style; it was a pretty fashion.
I recall the autumn of 1849, when I, a young girl, was at the Astor
House, in New York. Coming downstairs one morning to breakfast,
how surprised I was at glaring notices posted on walls and doors,
“Hop to-night.” You may well believe I was at the hop, though I had
no suitable dress. I was only a looker-on.
When I mentioned slippers I recalled that hotel hop, for Mme. Le
Vert wore a pink silk dress and pink satin slippers, all laced up and
tied up with broad pink ribbons. Nobody had ever seen the like
before. Mme. Walton, her mother, was on hand, and hopped, too,
just as spry a hop as any young girl. I contrived to sidle along and
keep near to Mme. Le Vert, for I was as fascinated as any one of her
numerous beaux. Dr. Le Vert, by the way, had just started on a trip to
Europe for his health. Going to Europe then was like taking a trip to
Mars now.
I heard Mme. Le Vert talking to four different swains in four
different languages. I believe she considered her linguistic versatility
her strong point. She surely was a most remarkable woman. She
was as tender and sweet to me, a very plain, simple, unattractive
girl, as to her swellest friends. One does not easily forget such an
episode of early life. I never met Mme. Le Vert after that autumn. We
all returned South together on the Crescent City, the pioneer
steamer between New York and New Orleans.
I will not moralize or sermonize over these reminiscences. They
are all of the dead past. Both fashions and people are gone.
XII
WEDDING CUSTOMS THEN AND NOW
We were lingering about the breakfast table having such a

comfortable, chatty review of the last night’s party, when a familiar
voice was heard. “Oh! congratulate me; we have captured him; they
are engaged.” That was the first time I had ever heard an
“announcement” from headquarters. It was made to Mrs. Slocomb, in
her library. There followed many amusing particulars, audible to us,
in the adjoining room, but we were discreet young girls; perhaps that
was one reason we were among the very few invited to the wedding,
which so quickly followed the engagement that it was a complete
surprise to the whole community.
Sixty years ago only Catholics went to the sanctuary for a wedding
ceremony. Protestant weddings were home affairs, necessarily
confined to family and nearest friends. Houses being limited in
space, company was limited in number. No city house could boast of
a ballroom; few had “double parlors.”
At the wedding whose “announcement” was such a surprise to us,
I think our family and the Slocombs were the only guests, except the
families of the groom’s business associates. The idea of having a
grand reception to announce a marriage engagement, to which
everybody who is anybody is invited, was unheard of. The anxiety,
too, of the parties interested to get the news in a suitable form in the
daily papers, for the butcher boy and the sewing girl, out of the social
swim, to read, accompanied by the genealogies of the engaged
people, the wealth of the girl and how she came by it, and the
numbers of clubs of which the young man is a member, as though
the money and the clubs were “the chief end of man”, was unheard
of, too. We did things on a very different scale sixty years ago!
I recall my astonishment when Elèna Longer told me her sister
Héda was married the night before, for Elèna and I (we were ten
years old at the time) had played together all that day of the
wedding, and not a hint was imparted to me of the impending event.
I had not even heard the name of Mr. Charles Kock, the fiancé,
mentioned. There were already six married daughters, with hosts of
children, at that time in the Longer family, so there could have been
little room on such an occasion for outsiders, even if their presence
had been desired.
Wedding presents were not made, either. The first time we saw a
display of wedding gifts, how surprised we were, and how we
wondered as to how it happened! There were not many, nor were
they expensive, so for ever so long I could have given the list and
the names of the donors. Dear Maria Shute, who, as I remember,
was the bridesmaid, presented a pearl-handled paper cutter! That
article might have escaped my memory, along with the others, but
years after that wedding I met Maria, then Mrs. Babcock, and we
talked of it all, and had a merry laugh over the paper cutter.
Fifty-eight years ago, when I married, I was surprised by a solitary
wedding present, a napkin ring! From the most unexpected source it
came. The giver is long since dead and gone; dead and gone also is
the napkin ring.
At the wedding of Caroline Hennen to Mr. Muir, the first I ever
attended, there were not a dozen guests, but the rooms were filled,
indeed the Hennen family easily filled one of them. At this wedding
we met Mr. William Babcock from New York, a forty-niner en route to
California (this was in 1849). The following day I went with him to call
on and introduce him to his young cousin, an intimate friend of mine
he was desirous of meeting. She was of that handsome family of
Smiths, a niece of Mrs. Labouisse. I never saw either him or her
afterwards, for within the following fortnight they quietly married and
started “round the Horn” to San Francisco. More than fifty years after
I saw their children and grandchildren in California.
Some of us must remember genial, gossipy Mrs. Garnet Duncant,
the bon vivant, so bright, so fat and so entertaining? She it was who
called one day (sixty years ago) to tell us Amelia Zacharie had
married her invalid cousin, and sailed away with him. Those two are
the only cases I recall of wedding trips, and both were permanent
trips, for there was no intention of a return to New Orleans of either
couple. It was the fashion for the newly-mated to remain quietly in
the home nest, until one of their very own be made ready for their
reception.
James Pollock, I recall to mind, made a late appearance (in 1850)
at a dance given by the Lanfears, on Julia street, that old “13
Buildings.” The Lanfears were the last to leave that once fashionable
row. Pollock swept in late, full of apologies. His sister Mana had
married that evening and he was detained.
The only other wedding trip I can chronicle was one where the
bridegroom went alone. Do you remember what an excitement there
was, years ago, when a wealthy young man disappeared from the
side of his bride the morning after the wedding? There were no wires
or wireless then to facilitate the hunt, undertaken with frantic haste,
and continuing two mortally anxious weeks. He was eventually
discovered, in a semi-conscious, dazed condition, on a wharfboat at
Baton Rouge, or some such river town. He recovered from that
attack, to be blown away by another “brain storm” a few years later.
It was twenty years after this second disappearance that the courts
pronounced him dead, and the widow permitted to administer on the
estate.
In those days old maids were rare. Every girl, so to say, married.
The few exceptions served to emphasize the rarity of an unmated
female.
Divorces were so rare when I was young that they were practically
unknown in polite circles. I know of cases, and you would know of
them, too, if I mentioned names, where men sent their erring or cast-
off wives, not to Coventry, but to Paris, and made them stay there.
One such died in Paris lately at the age of ninety-five, who was
packed off, under a cloud of suspicion. There was no divorce, no
open scandal. She simply went and stayed! He simply stayed!
Last winter I was invited to a view (sounds like a picture exhibit!) of
the trousseau and wedding gifts of a fashionable young lady. I was
stunned with amazement! A large room filled to overflowing with
glass, china, silver, mirrors, everything a body could require, and a
vast array of utterly useless articles! and the trousseau which the
tired mother, who has had nervous prostration ever since, spent
months accumulating in Paris. My gracious! the best blanchisseuse
in the land could not cope successfully with all that flimsy finery,
laces and ribbons. I could only look and wonder, “What can all this
lead to?” (I add here, anticipating events: It led to an apartment and
one maid servant.) The young man was a salaried clerk, and the
young girl utterly unfit to care for even the superabundance of china
and silver, so much more than they could possibly find use for in a
three-story house, not to mention a six-room apartment and “light
housekeeping.” I wonder if the whirligig of time won’t bring back
some of the simplicity of my day?
Already it is the style to “fire out of sight” the useless bric-a-brac
ornaments that twenty years ago cluttered up drawing rooms till one
had to pick her way carefully lest she stumble over a blue china cat,
or tilt over a bandy-leg table covered with ivory idols and Chinese
mandarins with bobbing heads. Some of the most fashionable
drawing rooms to-day are already so stripped of furniture one has to
wander around quite a bit to find a chair to sit on; not even a pier
mirror to prink before, nor a parlor clock, flanked by “side pieces,” on
the mantel. All that banished for stunning simplicity. Not so, however,
the costumes and entertainments, which are becoming, so it seems
to a near-sighted old lady, more and more luxurious. Perhaps this
extreme (we all dote on extremes) of simplicity will come to take the
place of many other equally absurd extremes of the present day. Qui
vivra verra.
XIII
A COUNTRY WEDDING IN 1846
We missed the train! and here we were in the old Bayou Sara
Hotel, looking for some kind of locomotion. We had eighteen miles to
make, and if the Belle Creole had made the run we would have been
all right, but the Belle Creole was not a flier; it had no time for arrivals
or departures; it just jogged along at its own good will, answering
every call, running all sorts of antics up and down the river. Dick
started out to see what he could do.
I sat on the dirty porch, looking through November china trees
towards the river. Is there anything more depressing than a view of
china trees in November? The pretty, fragrant, blue flowers long
gone, and the mocking birds (nobody ever heard of English sparrows
then!) that had drunk their fill of intoxicating liquor from the scattering
china berries were gone too. The train we had missed, the dear old
Belle Creole always missed, was a kind of private affair. The whole
outfit, about twenty miles of track, the lumbering cars, the antiquated
engines, and I think, too, the scattering woods that supplied the fuel
were all the private property of the McGehees. The McGehees had a
cotton factory in the neighborhood of Woodville, twenty miles from
the river. They had one train, cheap and dirty, that made one trip a
day, going with freight very early in the morning, returning later, with
freight and one small passenger car for the owner’s use. This
concern stopped for wood and water and nothing else, and was the
only means of transport for “casuals” like ourselves from the river to
Woodville. Ladies going back and forth and gentlemen of leisure
used their own conveyance, a turtle-back affair that was entered by a
row of steps. The dear Belle Creole was too much of a convenience
to have a time table, so it was useless to construct a time table and
plan to “connect” with that equally free and easy train. Some
disgruntled chap chalked on an unused car, left on the rails as a
depot, “We belong to the McGehees, and go when we please.”
Well, to make the matter short, though it was long to me, on that
dirty porch by the china trees, Dick found a man with a turtle-top
coach, and a harness mended by cords and stakes and bits of
rawhide. The man had a mended look, too, but he was sober, and for
a good, round sum agreed to take us to Laurel Hill. Laurel Hill, where
we proposed to go, was a post office station, about ten miles from
Woodville and four miles across country. We meandered along, tired
and out of all patience. At the date of this tramp I was a little girl and
not given to moralizing. When we arrived at Laurel Hill we were told,
“Creek is up; been a big rain somewhere; not even a horseman has
crossed all day.” There was no accommodation for man or beast at
the queer little depot, no place to sit and nothing to sit on. It was long
after dark, and there was no one to tell us the story of the high water
but a negro man, who was shutting up the one door of the building.
There was nothing left us but to go to the nearest plantation house
and ask for lodgings.
I was so tired I felt we had gone ten miles further when we
reached Major Dick Haile’s, though it really was only a few miles.
The tired horses and the sleepy driver made slow work. There was a
gate and an opening, but the house was pitch dark, every door
closed and everybody apparently asleep. The nags were willing to
stand, unhitched, beside the fence; not an automobile or flying
machine could have scared them; they were asleep, too.
After much knocking and calling at what seemed to be the door of
entrance, an old gentleman, candle in hand and very scantily
dressed, demanded to know what was wanted. My brother called
that we were on our way to the General’s, and we could not cross
the creek, so we begged the privilege of a lodging for the night.
“General’s for the wedding? Come right in.” A brighter light was
procured, and before we were seated in the reception room we
heard the hospitable voice, “Put your carriage under the shed, give
those horses a good feed, then come to the kitchen and get a bite for
yourself.” The two young daughters came in, hurriedly dressed
(people did not have bathrobes and wrappers seventy years ago). I
was awfully tired and awfully sleepy, and I began to think our
lodgings were to be parlor chairs, long before the dining room door
was opened, and the genial old gentleman, in night shirt and
trousers, led the way to the table. We had fried chicken, hot
cornbread, coffee, cakes, and I don’t know what else. It would take
me back forty years to see a cook roused at midnight, to prepare
such a meal. I presume she even took herself to the roost and
caught her young chicken by the legs and wrung its neck before she
reached the newly-made fire. Major Haile knew we had not broken
our fast at the town hotel.
It was late the following day when we all assembled to just as fine
a breakfast, and heard the major say, “Your ‘turnout’ is gone. I sent
to see about the condition of the creek; it goes down about as fast as
it rises. When you are rested my carriage is at your disposal. Your
driver was not used to these roads, but mine knows every crossing
in the creek.”
It was a four-mile drive, even after we had crossed the waters. The
wedding house we found in commotion. There were no caterers or
experts even in New Orleans in 1846. The wedding supper was in
process of preparation, under the superintendence of a noted old
cakemaker from Woodville, nine miles off. Everybody was busy; only
General McCausland, the dear old master of the house, was quietly
seated by his parlor window, a very old man, but a soldier withal,
who could rise to emergencies when required. I drew up a chair and
explained our delay, and told him how grandly hospitable his
neighbor was. The two old men were the last remaining ones of their
company of the battle of New Orleans. Their homes were in payment
from the Government for their services. The dear old gentlemen said
they were neither general nor major; they were simple soldiers who
had discharged their services and accepted their pay. Both the men
were Irish, both poor boys. They worked hard, soon exhausted the
old red soil of their neighborhood.
Later the General moved his workmen to the river bottoms, so
that, while living for health’s sake in the old home, the house of
which he originally helped to build, his income came from Bayou
Fordoche, many miles away.
Time flew; neighbors had arrived, the table was spread in the long
back porch. The guests, many of them, lived miles and miles away,
in common country roads, often through dense woods—a long drive
under best circumstances, a perilous one at night, everybody
waiting, everybody in a hurry, everybody getting tired and fretful. It
was long after the appointed time, and the New Orleans preacher
had missed the train! Old Dilsey in the kitchen was mad because her
pig was getting too brown; Elfey in the porch worrying that her ice
cream was waiting too long; ladies in the parlor trying to kill time;
men wandering around the front yard in restless groups. Carriages
had been to the depot; no appearance of Mr. Jahleel Woodbridge,
the New Orleans minister. He was endeared to the family, had been
for years their minister at Woodville. Bride, in all her regal attire,
upstairs in tears; no Presbyterian preacher nearer than ten miles
away. So we waited and waited. At last the General sent for his
especial groom, ordered him to take the buggy and go four miles
through the woods, where there was a Methodist itinerant, and tell
him to come without delay to marry the couple.
The accommodating preacher came, just as he was. He had been
plowing his field, and his wife, off to see a sick child, had carried the
keys with her. He could not even get a clean handkerchief, but he
came in his workaday suit. The company hastily assembled. He
performed the ceremony, gave them his blessings, and
congratulated her on her “escape from the quicksands and shoals of
celibacy.” Recognizing his own condition at the time, he begged to
be excused from refreshments, and took a rapid and hurried
departure. The kindly man was scarce gone when Mr. Jahleel
Woodbridge arrived in a coach, most astonishingly like the one we
had used the previous day. Only a year or two later the hospitable
Major passed away; shortly after the General followed him, and the
dear old homes have passed away also from the face of the earth.
XIV
THE BELLES AND BEAUX OF FORTY
Do not think I mean to imply the belles and beaux of which I am

about to speak were forty years old, but they had their butterfly
existence in the year 1840. Some, no doubt, fluttered around before,
and a few after that date, but they all were of that era of simple life
that, alas! is of the distant past—a host, as Auctioneer Beard used to
say when parading his goods, “too multitudinous to particularize.” In
the first place, the costumes, as well as the customs of society, were
so different from those of the present day that they marshal before
my mind’s eye almost like a fancy dress parade.
Miss Ellen Johnson, who became later the wife of William B.
Walker (of the firm of Woodlief & Walker), and her sister, Malvina,
wife of our celebrated Dr. Warren Stone, wore the most beautiful
curls—wore them long after that style ceased to be haut ton. I have
some “Moniteurs des Dames” of that early date that afford insight
into costumes then worn. The long pointed waist, chuck full of real,
hard, stiff whalebones (all the whalebones must have been used up
then; nobody can find one now), corset also whaleboned to the limit,
laced at the back and with literally a board up the front, at least three
inches wide—a real board, apple tree wood preferred, hard and stiff
and unyielding. Ladies so girded up walked and stood and sat, too,
like drum majors; no round, stooping shoulders; one just had to
stand straight, with an apple tree board as a constant reminder. I
used even to hear that in cases where the poise had a tendency to
lapse it was not unusual for the victim to wear the corset night and
day.
The tournure of 1840 was buried in such oblivion that it requires
one to be almost eighty years old to drag it forth and display its
hideousness, explain its construction. The tournure, called “tchuny”
for short, was long and round, the size and shape of the biggest kind
of a rolling pin, such as your cook uses for pastry. The ends,
however, tapered to points, which met and were secured in front of
the waist. It was stuffed with moss, or cotton, or hair, I don’t know
what, for the monstrosity “came ready-made” from France. Over this
awful precipice the full gathered dress skirt fell in rippling cascades. I
remember a chiné silk, an indistinct, plaided purple and green; it was
ruffled to the waist, and over the tchuny it hung in irregular folds. To
my childhood’s eye it was most graceful and beautiful. Good-by,
tchuny! I am sure you will never resurrect. Your reign was disastrous
to taste. You lived one short decade; without a mourner when you
departed. Good-by, tchuny!
Whatever did become of chiné silks? Can it be possible they are
back on the counters masquerading under another name? I never
see a silk now that bears any resemblance to the pretty chiné of
1840. Nor do I see tarletans of that date. It required a whole piece
(or bolt) of that goods for a dress. It had to have at least three skirts,
one over the other, to give the diaphanous effect. Such sweet,
simple dresses they were, too. Miss Mary Jane Matthews, a belle of
the forties, wore a pink tarletan, trimmed with wreaths of small white
roses, that was an inspiration. One very striking one comes to mind,
gold colored, garnished with red hollyhocks! I think some Western
girl must have sported that; it was scarcely simple enough for Creole
taste.
Emma Shields was a noted beauty. I recall a plaster bust of Queen
Victoria, idealized beyond all reason or recognition, one of my
brothers kept on a shelf in his room. He adored it because he saw a
resemblance to beautiful Emma Shields. She, poor girl, married
unfortunately, and dropped suddenly out of sight. About the same
time an accidental flourish of a feather duster knocked Queen
Victoria off the shelf—and smashed my brother’s idol.
Don’t I recall as though he stood before me this minute, on my
father’s balcony, Mr. Peter Anderson? Tall and thin and angular (he
imagined he looked like Henry Clay, and he was of similar build),
dressed in what was known as moleskin, a tan-colored goods
looking strangely like rough-finished kid, the trousers so skin-tight
and so firmly strapped under the shoe that he had to assume a
sitting posture with considerable deliberation and care.
Here comes Adolphus Hamilton, a quiet eligible, more known in
business than in social circles, but the far-seeing mammas kept an
eye on him, he was such a bon parti. One fine day he surprised
these mammas by arriving with his bride from a trip to Natchez.
Henry Hollister, too, was a business man who made few social calls,
but was in evidence at all the dances. A few years ago I met his
daughter at a summer resort. She was prodigiously amused that
papa, now hobbling about with a gouty foot and stout cane, ever
could have been a dancing beau.
George W. Kendall went off one fine day, to what he proposed
would be a kind of picnic, in the wilds of Western Texas. His Santa
Fe expedition spun out a longer and more varied experience than he
contemplated, of which his graphic account, now unhappily out of
print, is most entertaining. He married in France, and in Texas during
the war we met him, after a lapse of many years. He had founded
the town of New Braunfels, near San Antonio, and retired, full of
years, and full of interest in the rough life around him, so different
from the New Orleans of his earlier days and the Paris of his gayer
ones.
The Miltenberger brothers were never old. They danced and made
themselves admired through several generations of belles. The “sere
and yellow leaf” could never be applied to a Miltenberger.
Evergreens were they, game to the last, for no doubt they are all
gone, and the places that knew them will know them no more.
A. K. Josephs, a lawyer of some note and a very acceptable
visitor, was a replica in the way of flowered waistcoat and dangling
chains of a prominent man of his race in England, Disraeli. Don’t I
see a bird of paradise waistcoat? Indeed I do. And also a waistcoat
of similar style sent to another prominent beau of the period, a black
satin confection, with gorgeous peacocks embroidered on the ample
front. I don’t think the recipient of that garment ever appeared in it.
Flamboyant as were the waistcoats of that day, a peacock with
spread tail was the limit. They are all dead, those belles and beaux
of the forties. The old lady chronicler could expect nothing else of
these folks she loves to remember and talk of to children and
grandchildren, who listen with becoming patience, no doubt often
thinking, “Dear grandma must be nearing her dotage.”

An Invitation To Combinatorics 1St Edition Shahriari Online Ebook Texxtbook Full Chapter PDF

Uploaded by

Document Information

Original Title

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

An Invitation To Combinatorics 1St Edition Shahriari Online Ebook Texxtbook Full Chapter PDF

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

An Invitation to Combinatorics 1st

An Invitation to Abstract Algebra 1st Edition Steven J

An Invitation to Law and Social Science Richard Lempert

Topology: An Invitation 1st Edition K. Parthasarathy

An Invitation to Health, The Power of Now, Brief

An Invitation to General Algebra and Universal

An Invitation to Health: Taking Charge of Your Health

An Invitation to the Sociology of Emotions, 2nd 2nd

Land of Hope An Invitation to the Great American Story

Active student engagement is key to this classroom-tested combinatorics text, boasting

Shahriar Shahriari is Professor of Mathematics at Pomona College. He has over 50 publica-

A complete list of books in the series can be found at www.cambridge.org/mathematics

Cambridge University Press is part of the University of Cambridge.

1 Induction and Recurrence Relations 6

2 The Pigeonhole Principle and Ramsey Theory 42

3 Counting, Probability, Balls and Boxes 83

3.3 A Framework for Counting Questions: The Counting Table 93

COLLABORATIVE MINI-PROJECT 1: Counting Monochromatic Triangles 103

COLLABORATIVE MINI-PROJECT 2: Binomial Coefﬁcients 107

COLLABORATIVE MINI-PROJECT 3: Stirling Numbers 111

4 Permutations and Combinations 115

5 Binomial and Multinomial Coefﬁcients 147

6 Stirling Numbers 193

7 Integer Partitions 230

COLLABORATIVE MINI-PROJECT 4: Generating Functions 249

COLLABORATIVE MINI-PROJECT 5: Graphic Sequences and Planar Graphs 253

COLLABORATIVE MINI-PROJECT 6: Connectivity of Graphs 257

8 The Inclusion–Exclusion Principle 261

9 Generating Functions 292

Interregnum: Counting Table Completed 349

COLLABORATIVE MINI-PROJECT 7: Ming–Catalan Numbers 351

COLLABORATIVE MINI-PROJECT 8: Sperner’s Theorem 355

10 Graph Theory 361

10.3 Bipartite Graphs 381

COLLABORATIVE MINI-PROJECT 9: Cayley’s Tree Formula 443

COLLABORATIVE MINI-PROJECT 10: Incidence Matrices and Bipartite Graphs 449

11 Posets, Matchings, and Boolean Lattices 453

Appendix A Short Answers for Warm-Up Problems 522

Appendix B Hints for Selected Problems 524

Appendix C Short Answers for Selected Problems 531

Appendix D Complete Solutions for Selected Problems 533

Coverage and Organization

The Global Roots of Combinatorics and the Naming

Like many mathematicians, I was introduced to combinatorics by having to use it in other

we are looking for. We want a specific numerical answer or an example of a specific

∅, {1}, {2}, {3}, {4}, {1,3}, {1,4}, {2,4}.

We want to find a47 .

Induction is a powerful method of proof and immensely useful in combinatorics. We

Principle of Mathematical Induction.

Remark 1.3. The sequence of integers

Figure 1.2 The triangular numbers.

Remark 1.5. We write mathematics in paragraphs consisting of English as well as mathemat-

As I was going to St. Ives,

Do so by using the following steps.

STEP 2: Is nk=1 k(k + 1) = nk=1 k2 + nk=1 k?

Find a pattern, express it as a proper mathematical sentence, and prove it.

Find a pattern, express it as a mathematical sentence, and prove it.

Find a pattern, express it as a mathematical sentence, and prove it.

Find a pattern, express it in suitable mathematical notation, and prove it.

Use the data to make a conjecture. Then prove your conjecture.

Use the data to make a conjecture. Then prove your conjecture.

In a dream, I am told to calculate the following:

Make a conjecture and prove it.