npm - paginar - Versions diffs - 0.1.0 - Mend

paginar 0.1.0

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package/.editorconfig +13 -0
package/.env +1 -0
package/.vscode/extensions.json +3 -0
package/README.md +14 -0
package/demo/slot/slot-chapter1.html +142 -0
package/demo/slot/slot-chapter2.html +359 -0
package/demo/slot/slot-chapter3.html +259 -0
package/demo/summary/_content/1chapter.html +97 -0
package/demo/summary/_content/2chapter.html +311 -0
package/demo/summary/_content/3chapter.html +211 -0
package/demo/summary/index.html +99 -0
package/dist/favicon.ico +0 -0
package/dist/index.es.js +10224 -0
package/dist/index.es.js.map +1 -0
package/dist/style.css +975 -0
package/index.html +18 -0
package/package.json +35 -0
package/postcss.config.js +7 -0
package/public/favicon.ico +0 -0
package/src/App.ce.vue +104 -0
package/src/assets/main.css +100 -0
package/src/components/EngineWrapper.vue +23 -0
package/src/components/FileContent.ce.vue +20 -0
package/src/components/FooterSlot.ce.vue +22 -0
package/src/components/HeaderSlot/HeaderSlot.ce.vue +37 -0
package/src/components/HeaderSlot/OptionsButton/OptionsButton.ce.vue +63 -0
package/src/components/HeaderSlot/OptionsButton/OptionsColor.vue +28 -0
package/src/components/HeaderSlot/OptionsButton/OptionsColumns.vue +41 -0
package/src/components/HeaderSlot/OptionsButton/OptionsDropdown.vue +40 -0
package/src/components/HeaderSlot/OptionsButton/OptionsFontFamily.vue +17 -0
package/src/components/HeaderSlot/OptionsButton/OptionsFontSize.vue +17 -0
package/src/components/HeaderSlot/SummaryButton/SummaryButton.ce.vue +64 -0
package/src/components/HeaderSlot/SummaryButton/SummaryDropdown.vue +29 -0
package/src/components/NavigationButton.ce.vue +34 -0
package/src/components/ReaderWrapper.vue +16 -0
package/src/components/icons/Close.vue +6 -0
package/src/components/icons/DoubleColumn.vue +15 -0
package/src/components/icons/Expand.vue +7 -0
package/src/components/icons/Eye.vue +9 -0
package/src/components/icons/Home.vue +6 -0
package/src/components/icons/Moon.vue +5 -0
package/src/components/icons/SingleColumn.vue +3 -0
package/src/components/icons/Summary.vue +10 -0
package/src/components/icons/Sun.vue +5 -0
package/src/components/icons/ThreeDots.vue +8 -0
package/src/composables/useEstimatePages.js +28 -0
package/src/composables/usePagination.js +57 -0
package/src/composables/useReaderSettings.js +125 -0
package/src/composables/useStyles.js +38 -0
package/src/composables/useTextContent.js +40 -0
package/src/main.js +21 -0
package/src/tailwind.css +975 -0
package/tailwind.config.js +12 -0
package/vite.config.js +32 -0

package/.editorconfig ADDED Viewed

@@ -0,0 +1,13 @@
+# editorconfig.org
+root = true
+[*]
+indent_style = tab
+indent_size = 4
+end_of_line = lf
+charset = utf-8
+trim_trailing_whitespace = true
+insert_final_newline = true
+[*.md]
+trim_trailing_whitespace = false

package/.env ADDED Viewed

	@@ -0,0 +1 @@
1	+ NODE_ENV=production

package/.vscode/extensions.json ADDED Viewed

@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+{
+  "recommendations": ["Vue.volar", "Vue.vscode-typescript-vue-plugin"]
+}

package/README.md ADDED Viewed

@@ -0,0 +1,14 @@
+# Paginar
+W.I.P. far from complete
+You can check how it will look at the end in this [link](https://sabia.pub/book/okabayashi-uma-perspectiva-decolonial-para-o-design-no-brasil/read/haDxQvbtIIX4Hh5cOyee/content)
+- [ ] Custom Component (or Web Component) to be used in any environment
+- [ ] Paginate html/markdown content
+- [ ] Auto-generate Summary
+- [ ] Auto-recognize references and link accordingly
+- [ ] Navigate to specific point in content
+- [ ] Customize options and summary menu
+- [ ] Customize header
+- [ ] CSS-theme structure

package/demo/slot/slot-chapter1.html ADDED Viewed

@@ -0,0 +1,142 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html>
+<html lang="en">
+<head>
+	<meta charset="UTF-8" />
+	<link rel="icon" href="/favicon.ico" />
+	<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1.0" />
+	<title>Slot - Paginar</title>
+</head>
+<body>
+	<div id="app">
+		<paginate-content id="pagination-el" book-title="A Tale of Two Cities">
+			<div slot="header">
+				<img src="https://sabia.pub/images/logo-mobile-dark.svg" style="height: 40px">
+			</div>
+			<div slot="content">
+				<h2>
+					CHAPTER I.<br>The Period
+				</h2>
+				<p>
+					It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of
+					wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was
+					the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season
+					of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we
+					had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going
+					direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way—in short,
+					the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest
+					authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the
+					superlative degree of comparison only.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					There were a king with a large jaw and a queen with a plain face, on the
+					throne of England; there were a king with a large jaw and a queen with a
+					fair face, on the throne of France. In both countries it was clearer than
+					crystal to the lords of the State preserves of loaves and fishes, that
+					things in general were settled for ever.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					It was the year of Our Lord one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five.
+					Spiritual revelations were conceded to England at that favoured period, as
+					at this. Mrs. Southcott had recently attained her five-and-twentieth
+					blessed birthday, of whom a prophetic private in the Life Guards had
+					heralded the sublime appearance by announcing that arrangements were made
+					for the swallowing up of London and Westminster. Even the Cock-lane ghost
+					had been laid only a round dozen of years, after rapping out its messages,
+					as the spirits of this very year last past (supernaturally deficient in
+					originality) rapped out theirs. Mere messages in the earthly order of
+					events had lately come to the English Crown and People, from a congress of
+					British subjects in America: which, strange to relate, have proved more
+					important to the human race than any communications yet received through
+					any of the chickens of the Cock-lane brood.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					France, less favoured on the whole as to matters spiritual than her sister
+					of the shield and trident, rolled with exceeding smoothness down hill,
+					making paper money and spending it. Under the guidance of her Christian
+					pastors, she entertained herself, besides, with such humane achievements
+					as sentencing a youth to have his hands cut off, his tongue torn out with
+					pincers, and his body burned alive, because he had not kneeled down in the
+					rain to do honour to a dirty procession of monks which passed within his
+					view, at a distance of some fifty or sixty yards. It is likely enough
+					that, rooted in the woods of France and Norway, there were growing trees,
+					when that sufferer was put to death, already marked by the Woodman, Fate,
+					to come down and be sawn into boards, to make a certain movable framework
+					with a sack and a knife in it, terrible in history. It is likely enough
+					that in the rough outhouses of some tillers of the heavy lands adjacent to
+					Paris, there were sheltered from the weather that very day, rude carts,
+					bespattered with rustic mire, snuffed about by pigs, and roosted in by
+					poultry, which the Farmer, Death, had already set apart to be his tumbrils
+					of the Revolution. But that Woodman and that Farmer, though they work
+					unceasingly, work silently, and no one heard them as they went about with
+					muffled tread: the rather, forasmuch as to entertain any suspicion that
+					they were awake, was to be atheistical and traitorous.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					In England, there was scarcely an amount of order and protection to
+					justify much national boasting. Daring burglaries by armed men, and
+					highway robberies, took place in the capital itself every night; families
+					were publicly cautioned not to go out of town without removing their
+					furniture to upholsterers’ warehouses for security; the highwayman in the
+					dark was a City tradesman in the light, and, being recognised and
+					challenged by his fellow-tradesman whom he stopped in his character of
+					“the Captain,” gallantly shot him through the head and rode away; the mail
+					was waylaid by seven robbers, and the guard shot three dead, and then got
+					shot dead himself by the other four, “in consequence of the failure of his
+					ammunition:” after which the mail was robbed in peace; that magnificent
+					potentate, the Lord Mayor of London, was made to stand and deliver on
+					Turnham Green, by one highwayman, who despoiled the illustrious creature
+					in sight of all his retinue; prisoners in London gaols fought battles with
+					their turnkeys, and the majesty of the law fired blunderbusses in among
+					them, loaded with rounds of shot and ball; thieves snipped off diamond
+					crosses from the necks of noble lords at Court drawing-rooms; musketeers
+					went into St. Giles’s, to search for contraband goods, and the mob fired
+					on the musketeers, and the musketeers fired on the mob, and nobody thought
+					any of these occurrences much out of the common way. In the midst of them,
+					the hangman, ever busy and ever worse than useless, was in constant
+					requisition; now, stringing up long rows of miscellaneous criminals; now,
+					hanging a housebreaker on Saturday who had been taken on Tuesday; now,
+					burning people in the hand at Newgate by the dozen, and now burning
+					pamphlets at the door of Westminster Hall; to-day, taking the life of an
+					atrocious murderer, and to-morrow of a wretched pilferer who had robbed a
+					farmer’s boy of sixpence.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					All these things, and a thousand like them, came to pass in and close upon
+					the dear old year one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five. Environed
+					by them, while the Woodman and the Farmer worked unheeded, those two of
+					the large jaws, and those other two of the plain and the fair faces, trod
+					with stir enough, and carried their divine rights with a high hand. Thus
+					did the year one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five conduct their
+					Greatnesses, and myriads of small creatures—the creatures of this
+					chronicle among the rest—along the roads that lay before them.
+				</p>
+			</div>
+		</paginate-content>
+	</div>
+	<script>
+		const settings = {
+			baseFont: 'Verdana, sans-serif',
+		}
+		const content = {
+			summary: [
+				{ title: 'Chapter 1', link: '/demo/slot/slot-chapter1.html' },
+				{ title: 'Chapter 2', link: '/demo/slot/slot-chapter2.html' },
+				{ title: 'Chapter 3', link: '/demo/slot/slot-chapter3.html' }
+			]
+		}
+		const paginationEl = document.getElementById('pagination-el')
+		if (paginationEl) {
+			paginationEl.setAttribute("reader-settings", JSON.stringify(settings))
+			paginationEl.setAttribute("book-content", JSON.stringify(content))
+		}
+	</script>
+	<script type="module" src="/src/main.js"></script>
+</body>
+</html>

package/demo/slot/slot-chapter2.html ADDED Viewed

@@ -0,0 +1,359 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html>
+<html lang="en">
+<head>
+	<meta charset="UTF-8" />
+	<link rel="icon" href="/favicon.ico" />
+	<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1.0" />
+	<title>Slot - Paginar</title>
+</head>
+<body>
+	<div id="app">
+		<paginate-content
+			id="pagination-el"
+			book-title="A Tale of Two Cities"
+		>
+			<div slot="header">
+				<img src="https://sabia.pub/images/logo-mobile-dark.svg" style="height: 40px">
+			</div>
+			<div slot="content">
+				<h2>
+					CHAPTER II.<br>The Mail
+				</h2>
+				<p class="pfirst"><span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>t was the Dover road that lay, on a Friday
+					night late in November, before
+					the first of the persons with whom this history has business. The Dover
+					road lay, as to him, beyond the Dover mail, as it lumbered up Shooter’s
+					Hill. He walked up hill in the mire by the side of the mail, as the rest
+					of the passengers did; not because they had the least relish for walking
+					exercise, under the circumstances, but because the hill, and the harness,
+					and the mud, and the mail, were all so heavy, that the horses had three
+					times already come to a stop, besides once drawing the coach across the
+					road, with the mutinous intent of taking it back to Blackheath. Reins and
+					whip and coachman and guard, however, in combination, had read that
+					article of war which forbade a purpose otherwise strongly in favour of the
+					argument, that some brute animals are endued with Reason; and the team had
+					capitulated and returned to their duty.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					With drooping heads and tremulous tails, they mashed their way through the
+					thick mud, floundering and stumbling between whiles, as if they were
+					falling to pieces at the larger joints. As often as the driver rested them
+					and brought them to a stand, with a wary “Wo-ho! so-ho-then!” the near
+					leader violently shook his head and everything upon it—like an
+					unusually emphatic horse, denying that the coach could be got up the hill.
+					Whenever the leader made this rattle, the passenger started, as a nervous
+					passenger might, and was disturbed in mind.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					There was a steaming mist in all the hollows, and it had roamed in its
+					forlornness up the hill, like an evil spirit, seeking rest and finding
+					none. A clammy and intensely cold mist, it made its slow way through the
+					air in ripples that visibly followed and overspread one another, as the
+					waves of an unwholesome sea might do. It was dense enough to shut out
+					everything from the light of the coach-lamps but these its own workings,
+					and a few yards of road; and the reek of the labouring horses steamed into
+					it, as if they had made it all.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					Two other passengers, besides the one, were plodding up the hill by the
+					side of the mail. All three were wrapped to the cheekbones and over the
+					ears, and wore jack-boots. Not one of the three could have said, from
+					anything he saw, what either of the other two was like; and each was
+					hidden under almost as many wrappers from the eyes of the mind, as from
+					the eyes of the body, of his two companions. In those days, travellers
+					were very shy of being confidential on a short notice, for anybody on the
+					road might be a robber or in league with robbers. As to the latter, when
+					every posting-house and ale-house could produce somebody in “the
+					Captain’s” pay, ranging from the landlord to the lowest stable
+					non-descript, it was the likeliest thing upon the cards. So the guard of
+					the Dover mail thought to himself, that Friday night in November, one
+					thousand seven hundred and seventy-five, lumbering up Shooter’s Hill, as
+					he stood on his own particular perch behind the mail, beating his feet,
+					and keeping an eye and a hand on the arm-chest before him, where a loaded
+					blunderbuss lay at the top of six or eight loaded horse-pistols, deposited
+					on a substratum of cutlass.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					The Dover mail was in its usual genial position that the guard suspected
+					the passengers, the passengers suspected one another and the guard, they
+					all suspected everybody else, and the coachman was sure of nothing but the
+					horses; as to which cattle he could with a clear conscience have taken his
+					oath on the two Testaments that they were not fit for the journey.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“Wo-ho!” said the coachman. “So, then! One more pull and you’re at the top
+					and be damned to you, for I have had trouble enough to get you to it!—Joe!”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“Halloa!” the guard replied.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“What o’clock do you make it, Joe?”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“Ten minutes, good, past eleven.”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“My blood!” ejaculated the vexed coachman, “and not atop of Shooter’s yet!
+					Tst! Yah! Get on with you!”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					The emphatic horse, cut short by the whip in a most decided negative, made
+					a decided scramble for it, and the three other horses followed suit. Once
+					more, the Dover mail struggled on, with the jack-boots of its passengers
+					squashing along by its side. They had stopped when the coach stopped, and
+					they kept close company with it. If any one of the three had had the
+					hardihood to propose to another to walk on a little ahead into the mist
+					and darkness, he would have put himself in a fair way of getting shot
+					instantly as a highwayman.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					The last burst carried the mail to the summit of the hill. The horses
+					stopped to breathe again, and the guard got down to skid the wheel for the
+					descent, and open the coach-door to let the passengers in.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“Tst! Joe!” cried the coachman in a warning voice, looking down from his
+					box.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“What do you say, Tom?”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					They both listened.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“I say a horse at a canter coming up, Joe.”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“<i>I</i> say a horse at a gallop, Tom,” returned the guard, leaving his
+					hold of the door, and mounting nimbly to his place. “Gentlemen! In the
+					king’s name, all of you!”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					With this hurried adjuration, he cocked his blunderbuss, and stood on the
+					offensive.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					The passenger booked by this history, was on the coach-step, getting in;
+					the two other passengers were close behind him, and about to follow. He
+					remained on the step, half in the coach and half out of; they remained in
+					the road below him. They all looked from the coachman to the guard, and
+					from the guard to the coachman, and listened. The coachman looked back and
+					the guard looked back, and even the emphatic leader pricked up his ears
+					and looked back, without contradicting.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					The stillness consequent on the cessation of the rumbling and labouring of
+					the coach, added to the stillness of the night, made it very quiet indeed.
+					The panting of the horses communicated a tremulous motion to the coach, as
+					if it were in a state of agitation. The hearts of the passengers beat loud
+					enough perhaps to be heard; but at any rate, the quiet pause was audibly
+					expressive of people out of breath, and holding the breath, and having the
+					pulses quickened by expectation.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					The sound of a horse at a gallop came fast and furiously up the hill.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“So-ho!” the guard sang out, as loud as he could roar. “Yo there! Stand! I
+					shall fire!”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					The pace was suddenly checked, and, with much splashing and floundering, a
+					man’s voice called from the mist, “Is that the Dover mail?”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“Never you mind what it is!” the guard retorted. “What are you?”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“<i>Is</i> that the Dover mail?”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“Why do you want to know?”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“I want a passenger, if it is.”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“What passenger?”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“Mr. Jarvis Lorry.”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					Our booked passenger showed in a moment that it was his name. The guard,
+					the coachman, and the two other passengers eyed him distrustfully.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“Keep where you are,” the guard called to the voice in the mist, “because,
+					if I should make a mistake, it could never be set right in your lifetime.
+					Gentleman of the name of Lorry answer straight.”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“What is the matter?” asked the passenger, then, with mildly quavering
+					speech. “Who wants me? Is it Jerry?”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					(“I don’t like Jerry’s voice, if it is Jerry,” growled the guard to
+					himself. “He’s hoarser than suits me, is Jerry.”)
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“Yes, Mr. Lorry.”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“What is the matter?”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“A despatch sent after you from over yonder. T. and Co.”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“I know this messenger, guard,” said Mr. Lorry, getting down into the road—assisted
+					from behind more swiftly than politely by the other two passengers, who
+					immediately scrambled into the coach, shut the door, and pulled up the
+					window. “He may come close; there’s nothing wrong.”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“I hope there ain’t, but I can’t make so ’Nation sure of that,” said the
+					guard, in gruff soliloquy. “Hallo you!”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“Well! And hallo you!” said Jerry, more hoarsely than before.
+				</p>
+				<div class="fig" style="width:60%;">
+					<img src="images/0414m.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="0414m "><br>
+				</div>
+				<h5>
+					<a href="images/0414.jpg" style="width:100%;"><i>Original</i></a>
+				</h5>
+				<p>
+					“Come on at a footpace! d’ye mind me? And if you’ve got holsters to that
+					saddle o’ yourn, don’t let me see your hand go nigh ’em. For I’m a devil
+					at a quick mistake, and when I make one it takes the form of Lead. So now
+					let’s look at you.”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					The figures of a horse and rider came slowly through the eddying mist, and
+					came to the side of the mail, where the passenger stood. The rider
+					stooped, and, casting up his eyes at the guard, handed the passenger a
+					small folded paper. The rider’s horse was blown, and both horse and rider
+					were covered with mud, from the hoofs of the horse to the hat of the man.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“Guard!” said the passenger, in a tone of quiet business confidence.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					The watchful guard, with his right hand at the stock of his raised
+					blunderbuss, his left at the barrel, and his eye on the horseman, answered
+					curtly, “Sir.”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“There is nothing to apprehend. I belong to Tellson’s Bank. You must know
+					Tellson’s Bank in London. I am going to Paris on business. A crown to
+					drink. I may read this?”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“If so be as you’re quick, sir.”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					He opened it in the light of the coach-lamp on that side, and read—first
+					to himself and then aloud: “‘Wait at Dover for Mam’selle.’ It’s not long,
+					you see, guard. Jerry, say that my answer was, <i>Recalled to life</i>.”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					Jerry started in his saddle. “That’s a Blazing strange answer, too,” said
+					he, at his hoarsest.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“Take that message back, and they will know that I received this, as well
+					as if I wrote. Make the best of your way. Good night.”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					With those words the passenger opened the coach-door and got in; not at
+					all assisted by his fellow-passengers, who had expeditiously secreted
+					their watches and purses in their boots, and were now making a general
+					pretence of being asleep. With no more definite purpose than to escape the
+					hazard of originating any other kind of action.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					The coach lumbered on again, with heavier wreaths of mist closing round it
+					as it began the descent. The guard soon replaced his blunderbuss in his
+					arm-chest, and, having looked to the rest of its contents, and having
+					looked to the supplementary pistols that he wore in his belt, looked to a
+					smaller chest beneath his seat, in which there were a few smith’s tools, a
+					couple of torches, and a tinder-box. For he was furnished with that
+					completeness that if the coach-lamps had been blown and stormed out, which
+					did occasionally happen, he had only to shut himself up inside, keep the
+					flint and steel sparks well off the straw, and get a light with tolerable
+					safety and ease (if he were lucky) in five minutes.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“Tom!” softly over the coach roof.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“Hallo, Joe.”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“Did you hear the message?”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“I did, Joe.”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“What did you make of it, Tom?”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“Nothing at all, Joe.”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“That’s a coincidence, too,” the guard mused, “for I made the same of it
+					myself.”
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					Jerry, left alone in the mist and darkness, dismounted meanwhile, not only
+					to ease his spent horse, but to wipe the mud from his face, and shake the
+					wet out of his hat-brim, which might be capable of holding about half a
+					gallon. After standing with the bridle over his heavily-splashed arm,
+					until the wheels of the mail were no longer within hearing and the night
+					was quite still again, he turned to walk down the hill.
+				</p>
+				<p>
+					“After that there gallop from Temple Bar, old lady, I won’t trust your
+					fore-legs till I get you on the level,” said this hoarse messenger,
+					glancing at his mare. “‘Recalled to life.’ That’s a Blazing strange
+					message. Much of that wouldn’t do for you, Jerry! I say, Jerry! You’d be
+					in a Blazing bad way, if recalling to life was to come into fashion,
+					Jerry!”
+				</p>
+			</div>
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+	<script>
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+				{ title: 'Chapter 1', link: '/demo/slot/slot-chapter1.html' },
+				{ title: 'Chapter 2', link: '/demo/slot/slot-chapter2.html' },
+				{ title: 'Chapter 3', link: '/demo/slot/slot-chapter3.html' }
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