(2x3=6)
Answer any 2 questions from 8 to 10. Each carrie 2 ceores.
8.
The profits earned by a business firm during the last 4 years were * 90,000,
80.000 * 1,20,000 and 1,10,000 respectively. Normal rate of return in similar
business is 8%. Calculate the value of goodwill by capitalization of average profit.
9,00,000.
Assume that the value of net assets is
9.
Febina are partners in the ratio of 3:2 : 1. Sruthi retires and her
the remaining partners in the ratio of 3 : 2. Calculate the new ratio.
10
Ashina, a Commerce student is in a dilemma that she has no clear idea about the
differences between dissolution of partnership and dissolution of firm. Can you help
her by giving three points of differences in this regard ?
Y 50
Answers
Answer:
Q9 Ans is PDF
Explanation:
Q 10 Ans
These days, we routinely recognize the red flags of chronic stress on the body—the fatigue, the low moods, the headaches, and frequent illnesses—if not in ourselves than in others. We remind friends or family or colleagues who appear to be marching toward a tipping point, at which stress unravels into long-term burnout, that shouldering too much can have physiological consequences.
But the biological concept of stress, or the stress response, was not popularized until the 1950s, although its quiet medical debut occurred in 1936, in the science journal Nature, under a different name, “A Syndrome Produced by Diverse Nocuous Agents.” Hans Selye, the late Hungarian-Canadian endocrinologist and so-called “father of stress,” described in Nature his work with lab rats in Montreal, where he had determined that any stimulant, or stress, would trigger the same chain reaction. Disease didn’t kill the rats, he found, but stress did. He made the accidental discovery while conducting research into ovarian hormones.
“I found that injections of the ovarian hormone stimulated the outer tissue of the adrenal glands of the rats, caused deterioration of the thymus glands and produced ulcers and other symptoms,” Selye once explained to the New York Times. ”The rats died. Later I found that any artificial hormone compounds and stresses and any kind of damage did the same thing.”
His work was not immediately recognized as paradigm-changing. Conventional belief held that specific diseases led to a specific pathology, end of story. But Selye found that in every disease, stress also played a role, and in some cases a decisive one. The general adaptation syndrome, he said, unfolded in three stages: alarm, resistance, and exhaustion. By 1950, he had rebranded the whole bundle of behaviors as stress.
Though subsequent research showed that his radical theory didn’t get everything right, he sparked a field of study that has since traced the stress response’s connection to chronic diseases like arthritis, diabetes, and heart disease. He was nominated yearly for a Nobel prize from 1949 through 1953.
The powerful principles behind his theory would also not be contained to medicine. They spilled over to other disciplines, affecting theories on political systems and social psychology. They led Selye to write Stress Without Distress, an early guidebook to living a content life by maintaining homeostasis in your body and relations. In the early 1970s, Selye was already talking about gratitude as a balm against the “wear and tear” of daily life.
Still, Selye’s philosophy of stress was maligned in his time for being too imprecise, too murky. Arguably, we’re still missing out on some of its benefits because of a lack of clarity about the word itself.
These days, we routinely recognize the red flags of chronic stress on the body—the fatigue, the low moods, the headaches, and frequent illnesses—if not in ourselves than in others. We remind friends or family or colleagues who appear to be marching toward a tipping point, at which stress unravels into long-term burnout, that shouldering too much can have physiological consequences.
But the biological concept of stress, or the stress response, was not popularized until the 1950s, although its quiet medical debut occurred in 1936, in the science journal Nature, under a different name, “A Syndrome Produced by Diverse Nocuous Agents.” Hans Selye, the late Hungarian-Canadian endocrinologist and so-called “father of stress,” described in Nature his work with lab rats in Montreal, where he had determined that any stimulant, or stress, would trigger the same chain reaction. Disease didn’t kill the rats, he found, but stress did. He made the accidental discovery while conducting research into ovarian hormones.
“I found that injections of the ovarian hormone stimulated the outer tissue of the adrenal glands of the rats, caused deterioration of the thymus glands and produced ulcers and other symptoms,” Selye once explained to the New York Times. ”The rats died. Later I found that any artificial hormone compounds and stresses and any kind of damage did the same thing.”
His work was not immediately recognized as paradigm-changing. Conventional belief held that specific diseases led to a specific pathology, end of story. But Selye found that in every disease, stress also played a role, and in some cases a decisive one. The general adaptation syndrome, he said, unfolded in three stages: alarm, resistance, and exhaustion. By 1950, he had rebranded the whole bundle of behaviors as stress.
Though subsequent research showed that his radical theory didn’t get everything right, he sparked a field of study that has since traced the stress response’s connection to chronic diseases like arthritis, diabetes, and heart disease. He was nominated yearly for a Nobel prize from 1949 through 1953.
The powerful principles behind his theory would also not be contained to medicine. They spilled over to other disciplines, affecting theories on political systems and social psychology. They led Selye to write Stress Without Distress, an early guidebook to living a content life by maintaining homeostasis in your body and relations. In the early 1970s, Selye was already talking about gratitude as a balm against the “wear and tear” of daily life.
Still, Selye’s philosophy of stress was maligned in his time for being too imprecise, too murky. Arguably, we’re still missing out on some of its benefits because of a lack of clarity about the word itself.