11, Wilden. CHAPTER IV.— (Continued.) "You don't seem altogether happy in here," a cheery voice calls out at thla moment, as Shell's somewhat mocking face appears at the open window. "Happy!" cries Ruby derisively. "Would you feel happy caged up with a- couple of young bears? The children Have been behaving shamefully." "Have they?" returns Shell in a tone which denotes doubt, as she steps in over the low window ledge, and gently begins to stroke Meg's hair, which haa d , lf ' hear shall punish you. CHAPTER V. hls being rude has such a depressing effect through her va- that he tem » tatlon the mV °, * ture "Miss Wilden won't love you if vou 'inn t. behave like a gentleman." continues the father severely, as an appro- satirical head. "Oh. it doesn't matter!" answers Shell condescendingly. "Now then, young monkeys—if you are ready we may as Well start," ha says, pointing to the trap which is -waiting in the avenue. "I am going to take you for a drive right around by the sea." "Take Sell too. pa," pleads Meg, catching her father's hand and fairly jumping with delight. "With pleasure, if she will only consent to go," is his ready answer, whilst he darts an amused glance at the girl's flushed vexed face. "No, thanks—I hate driving," responds Shell curtly. "You seem to have a great many detestations. Miss Shell," says the gentleman sarcastically. Milk the Consumer Want* The following is from an address by become disheveled rious emotions. The child nestles up against her side, clasping her skirts firmly,, as if for protection, while Bob indulges in a vigorous welcoming nod, for he knows he Is not allowed to speak. "Yes. they have given me quite a headache," pursues Ruby, pressing her hand to her brow. "I shall be fit for nothing the rest of the day if I can't get rid of it. I wish you would hear the children read for me." "Why should I?" answers Shell bluntly. "As you know, 1 disapprove of their coming here; and I told you from the first to expect uo help from me!" Shell speaks in French, that the children may not understand; but Meg guesses with the quick instinct of childhood that she is refusing to take charge of them. "You hear me read, Sell?" she lisps with a look of almost piteous entreaty on her baby face. "Me will be dood." Shell looks down for a moment with unrelenting eyes—then she catches Meg up in her strong young arms, gives her a resounding kiss, and turning to Ruby, says— "All right—if you are tired I don't mind looking after them till they are fetched—only I don't profess to be a good hand at teaching." "I wish you wouldn't be so rough with them," says Ruby, rising from her chair with a sigh of intense relief. "Now us is happy!" cries Bob, sliding down from his chair and stretching his small arms with delight as Ruby disappears. "But us must go on with our lessons," says Shell gravely. "All right," acquiesces Bob. as he begins to hunt for their reading book. "You sit down in the big chair and have Meg on your lap, like you did last time; and I can stand beside you." "My dear children, isn't it rather hot for that kind of arrangement?" expostulates Shell, as Meg springs into her arms, whilst Bob installs himself with his arm around her neck. But the children only know that they love her, and want to be as near her as possible; any such minor consideration as the state of the thermometer ie a matter of supreme indifference to their inexperienced and consequently selfish little minds. That evening, as luck will have it, when the children come in to dessert, their father begins to question them as to their conduct. "I hope you were both very good children this morning?" he says, helping each to a plentiful supply of strawberries. "No, pa—us wasn't berry good," falters Meg, with downcast eyes and burning cheeks. "Dear me—that is very sad, Meg!" says Robert Champley, with a laugh' Ing glance across the table at Ted. "How did you misbehave yourselves?" "I didn't know tree times four," replies Meg, looking deeply abashed. "That was extremely wicked of you,' 1 says her father smiling. "And, now that Meg has made an open confession of her sins, wo must hear your enormities, Mr. Bobby," laughs his uncle. "How did you offend Miss Wilden?" Bob heaves a pro'fouml sigh. "I did somefink dreadful," ho says in a low shamed voice. "Something dreadful?" repeats Ted, looking intensely amused. "Come—out with it." "Papa, dear, don't be angry wld Bob —he didn't know," interposes Meg, suddenly, laying hold of her father's arm and hugging it vigorously. "Dear me, this is getting alarming! What did you do, Bob?" tusks Mr. Champley with real Interest, Bob takes a kind of gulp to swallow down his fear—and then he says ia an awestruck voice— "I pulled her hair out." "Good gracious—whose hair?" asks his father, looking startled. "Miss Wilden'a," explains Bob, much alarmed at the sensation his announcement had created. "You young villain!" exclaims his uncle. "What induced you to attack a lady like that?" "I didn't attack her," says poor Bob, oil the verge of sobs, "I just pulled out her pins for fun, when she was setting my copy, and then all her hair tumbled down on the carpet." "Not all," hastened to explain Meg— "only a lot of it." Ted Champley is seized with a v o- lent fit of coughing, which sends h m °vev to the window for relief, whilst bis elder brother as suddenly develops a cold, which necessitates a vast amount of handkerchief play before to speaks again, then he says quwuy to Bob— "That wae very ungentlemanly 0? Priate ending to his reprimand "Us don't love Miss Wilden," here interrupts Meg with great dignity- sne is a nasty cross old ting." "Nonsense, Meg!" sa ys her father, Placing his hand under her chin and smiling down Into her eyes. "If you don't love Miss Wilden, I am afraid you must ue a hardened little wretch, for"— with a droary sigh—"alas, she Is only too devoteil to yon!" Meg shakes her head in an uncomprehending way, and repeats, with a determined little pout— "Ua don't like her—us loves Sell." "Yes, us loves dear Shell," chimes in Bob eagerly. "She tells us lovely stories." "My dear misguided children, your affection for Misa Shell is decidedly misplaced," here interrupts their uncle, returning from his post at the window. "She doesn't like boys and girls at all." "Not like little boys and derls?" repeats Meg, quite taken aback by such an extraordinary statement. "No, indeed—in fact she gave me to understand that she almost hated them," repeats Ted, much amused at the children's look of horror. "So I strongly advise you not to waste your young affections on such an unresponsive object." The warning, being clothed in words beyond their understanding, makes no impression on the children's minds, but their strong preference for the younger sister strikes their father forcibly, and he catches himself murmuring more than once in a wondering tone—"Us loves Shell; us loves dear Shell!" After that it often happens that Ruby, under some trifling pretext or other, shifts the burden of her self-imposed task on to Shell's young shoulders— she has a headache, or is busy, or has letters to write; and then Shell, taking pity on the poor children—who are sure to have a rough time of it if Ruby is disinclined for them—devotes her morning to their instruction and amusement. She bribes them to be good at their lessons by the promise of a romp iii the grounds when their task is completed; and so it happens that Robert Champley, chancing to drive over himself to fetch them one late June morning, comes upon an unexpected and to him a charming sight. On a moss-grown mound at the front of a copper-beech sits Shell in a dark print gown, with her bright hair coiled around and around with daisy-chains, which the children's busy fingers have been weaving, whilst she tells them a wonderful tale from Fairyland. So engrossed are all three that they do not become aware of the intruder's approach until he has descended from the trap and walked quietly to withJn a few paces of their resting place; then a ehout of "Papa, papa!" from Meg rouses them all from their ideal world to a realistic one. Shell starts from her lowly seat, crimsons to the very roots of her hair, "I have." is Shell's laconic answer. "Well. then, since we can't perstifcde you to accompany us, we may as well start. Come children!"—and. making no effort to shake hands, he raises Ms hat politely. A latent fear that she has been inhospitable assails Shell. "Won't you go up to the house?" she asks almost eagerly. "No, thank you—since I have been fortunate enough to meet with the children here. Good morning." "Good morning," answers Shell stiffly, and quite ignoring the two little faces that are turned up to her for a good-bye kiss. "Papa, is us naughty?" asks Meg as she trots over to the trap beside her father. "I hope not. Why?" he demands absently. "Cause Shell didn't kiss us," answers Meg in a wondering tone. "Kiss you!" repeats her father, laughing. "She looked far more likely to bite." .But, all the same, as he makes the assertion a memory of Shell as he first came to her, with sparkling eyes and smiling lips, and the two children kneeling beside her, rises before his mental vision. "Well, have you got rid of those little torments?" aske Ruby languidly, looking up from her book as Shell enters the room. "Their father has just come for them," answers Shell shortly. "Their father—oh, where is he?" cries Ruby, starting from her chair. "I want to consult him about Bob's writing; and I must speak about the nurse; I am afraid she is not very careful—Meg's hands were quite dirty this morning. Where is he—where did you leave him?" "He is down by the sea; I didn't leave him—he left me," answers Shell drily. "Why did no one tell me he was here?" asks Ruby angrily. "He didn't come to the house; I was in the drive with the children, and he picked them up there." "How very strange! But it is all your fault, taking them out the foolish way you do. I suppose you were romping like a torn-boy when he came." "I was telling them stories." "Anyway you were a ridiculous Ject," says Ruby, with such an viously scornful sneer that Shell instinctively glances across the room at her reflection in the mirror, then for the first time becoming aware of her profuse decorations. With a sudden access of wrath she tears the daisies firom her hair, whilst tears of mortification rise to her eyes. "I wouldn't have had him see me so for a hundred pounds," she says angrily. "What nonsense! I don't suppose that he even noticed them," observes Ruby with cutting scorn. "Ah, perhaps not!" murmurs Shell with a sigh of relief; and yet, thinking it over, she remembers clearly that twice or three times during their short interview she noticed an amused smile flicker over his face. (To be Continued.) Prof. Clinton D. Stoith, of the Miehl- ggp Experiment Station: Let us ask ourselves, itt the first place, what the milk consumer wants. The first test the city lady applies to the milk is to raise the cream and see how rich it is. Where milk is bought primarily to raise cream for coffee, this is an important matter. In supplying this want we must remember that we must select cows that give rich milk, for part of our herd at least, to bring up the quality. Experiments that we ha v e tried at the College have shown us conclusively that we can obtain rich milk !n no way other than keeping cows that give rich milk. In the first place, we have noticed that the quality of the milk of a given cow does not change in successive periods of lactation. I have always supposed that as a cow grew older she gave richer milk, but our experiments do not warrant this conclusion. Again, the richness of milk does not vary materially in successive months of the same period of lactation. Usually a cow gives as rich milk the flrsi month as she does the fifth or sixth after the birth of her calf. It is true that in the third or fourth month the quality of her milk drops, but the decline is not important. Still again, the quality of the milk does not vary with the different seasons. It is perhaps true that the cows on the whole give as poor milk in June as in any other mouth, but we have been unable to find any great variation in the richness of milk from month to month. It is evident, therefore, that our only way of controlling the quality of the milk that we furnish our customers is to select for our herd the cows that produce milk of the richness desired. The next thing that our lady consumer notes In the milk we furnish is its freedom from dirt. She does not like to find in the bottom of the bowl, as she empties out her morning's purchase, a tablespoonful of black sediment. I know it is the custom of the milkmen to call that stuff metal rubbed from the tin can, but it is in truth filth that ought to be in the barnyard. I have sold milk in an eastern town for a good many months, and know whereof I speak when I say that this filth in milk can be almost if not entirely prevented. tfcsft tfiey. can be produced under ropean conditions on dearer lands and •with dearer feeds. 'The trade ift American farm prod- acts is growing in the China seas, Set* etttific inquiry into the principles that underlie the making of fine dairy products is preparing out people to famish butter in condition to be exported in air-tight packages* so that they will remain sweet for long periods in tropical countries. In order that markets may be opened up in Japan, China and other countries of the Pacific ocean, an agent is now in that region establishing agencies to which the department will make trial shipments with a view to ascertaining all the facts for the benefit of the dairymen." LITERARY MOTES, A Knnsns Parndox. At the late meeting of the Kansas Dairymen's Association it was generally conceded that the business had suf* fered a decided depression in the state the past year, and that the cause was too much prosperity, says Hoard's Dairyman. This was explained by the crearnerymen in this way. A farmer's duties in producing milk for the creameries are harder perhaps than many other kinds of farm work, and during the time that stock and grain sold for low prices, he would resort to the harder work to fill his depleted purse, but since prices have risen so considerably, he finds no need of doing this, and, in consequence, the creamery business suffers. When the price of calves was at its lowest ebb, the fanner could get more from his milk by taking it to the creamery, but when the price went up it became much easier to feed the surplus supply of milk to the calves, and avoid the disagreeable duty of hauling it for miles over bad roads to get less for It in the end. This explanation was advanced by a large number of the delegates. Hoard's Dairyman would suggest another reason, or several of them. (1) The Kansas farmers, who have been patronizing the creameries are not dairymen in any sense of the word. (2) They have never paid any attention to the breeding of cows that would make dairying profitable. This is proven by the investigations of the patrons of the Meridian creamery by the Kansas Agricultural Experiment Station to ascertain the income they were realizing, per cow, for milk supplied to the creamery. The poorest herd of cows averaged in 1898, ?7.54 annually, and the best one only ob- ob- and puts on aa forbidding a look as she can well assume. "Oh, pa, it is so jolly; you come and listen, too!" cries Bob, eager that his father should participate in their enjoyment. "The princess is shut up in a dark room, because her wicked godmother won't allow her ever to see the sunshine, and the prince is keeping guard outside her tower with a carriage nnd six, to carry her away to an island blazing with light if he gets the dmnce." "Rather trying for her eyes, won t it be? I should be inclined to recommend her a pair of spectacles till she gets used to the glare," laughs Robert Chnmpley as he shakes hands with But Shell has become fossilized. She shakes hands limply, puts on a stolid conventional expression, and, drawing her small figure up to Its fullest height, tries to look exceedingly dignified. Her efforts are somewhat marred by the daisies so profusely twisted around har Lead' but, as she is happily forgetful of their presence, they do not trouble To furnish milk free from dirt the cows must be kept entirely clean as to their sides and udders. Years ago, before the invention of the modern styles of cow stalls, this was practically impossible, but in modern times it is not. * Filthy milk is unhealthy; it ought to be unsalable. It comes from dairies where the sides and udders of the cows are filthy. Keep them clean and the milk may be expected to be so. To procure pure milk it is essential that the stables be cleaned out regularly and thoroughly, leaving no excrement on the floor to rot and spoil the air. It is also essential that something like plaster be used after the stables are cleaned, to dry the floor and check the rise of obnoxious odors. The floors should be level, and indeed must be so smooth as to hold no little puddles of disgusting liquids. As to the material of which the floor should be made, I have no final advice to give. I believe that cement properly laid and not troweled smooth will be found excellent. So much for the floor on which the cow lies. It is of equal importance that the walls and ceilings be not covered with cobwebs nor coated with dust. It is not necessary to have an expensive cow stable to have a good one. The ceiling need not be planed even, but annually it should be washed down with a disinfectant solution, say one part of mercuric chloride to a thousand of water, and immediately whitewashed. her. "•-Sell dear, aha didn't have blue spectacles, did she?" cries Meg, shocked at Mich a very unromantic suggestion. MI «I don t luunv, I am sura " ««™ responds are weary- mi- to i-arry thorn away -- find the easiest way to keep them 1 HUH HM> " _l.,,nlon " H3VB over quiet is to tall thorn stories," says put to children, LENGTH OF MEXICAN WAR.. Cautimitttl for Two Years Uofore Peace \Viis Declared. The Mexican war is the best example and instruction in the time it takes to fight small wars. That took two years, and the present war is moving at express speed by its side, as might be expected after fifty-two years. Hostilities began March 18, 1846. General Mejia at Matamoras called out the Mexican troops. A month later, April 26, 1846, General Taylor called for 5,000 militia. A fortnight later, May 13, congress officially recognized the war ami called for volunteers. Mexico declared war May 23, 1846. Mexico had no fleet and no army on the frontier, except some desultory levies. Monterey was not taken until four months later, Sept. 28, and Bueiia Vista was not fought until eight months after the war began, Feb. 22, 1847. After nearly one year of hostilities, in which our forces had been drilled and disciplined in camp and by months of campaigning, Gen. Scott sailed for Mexico and captured Vera Cruz, ten months after hostilities began—Murch 29, 1847. It took four and one-half months, to Sept. 14, 1847, before the City of Mexico was taken, sixteen months after hostilities opened. Peace only came in two years, in June, 1848. Yet the Mexican war is quoted as a great case of quick work in fighting.—Philadelphia Press. Wii-'i'-i 1» a Ifumo? Letters! Llanf a.. y wllgwngy ligogery ch wy rndrr opwillai.i. iiliogogogoch appears iu the British i • stolflce guide as the name of a post ami telegraph, office io the Islaad of Angl^-ey. It is said to mean, "The Church of St. Mary iq, a hollow of whity ha»«l near to the r and to St. DieillQ's ehurpb near re Exporting Dairy 1'roiluctB. 'Owing to better home demand for d liry products, it is not commercially profitable to send butter to Europe at the present time," says the Secretary of Agriculture in his annual report. "The home demand for our best butters absorbs the supply. This is not always the case, however, and the department regards it wise to obtaizi for dairymen all the ^acts relating to the export of this article to the several commercial centers of both continental and insular Europe. For this purpose the department sent an agent to Paris to • ascertain what encouragement there would be to ship butter to that port. It was found that no line of steamers sailing direct from, the United States to French ports could furnish refrigerator space, and so shipments could not be made during the heated period. An agent was also sent to Hamburg, to ascertain for our people what the facts are regarding customs duties, as well as prohibitions and other difficulties that might meet exporters of butter to that country. "Our finest butter can be profitably made and sent to both Franca and Germany whenever the home supply is greater than the home demand for first-class goods. The American farmer is selling cheap grains and will feeds to European dairymen, who meet us in European markets with products made from raw material furnished by us. There is ev.ery reason to believe that the tendency is growing within, our own country toward the consumer tion of grains and mill feeds at home, exporting tba higher-priced products oi skill. As qur producers maiwfaa- ture more and more on the fam and. the great volume of raw materials* ia turned into thjn higiierrse.llin,g w OM *uyn.ii&, tea dairy $42.09. Taking the poorest five herds, the average per cow was ?9.44, and the best only ?33.74, a difference of 257 per cent. It costs to keep a cow in Kansas from ?20 to ?30, that is, if the farmer counts his feed and labor. No wonder farmers do not continue in the dairy business when they are so unfitted in knowledge and cows that they cannot make cows show any better average than those above mentioned. Preservatives and Foreign Markets. The Ontario (Canada) Department of Agriculture has issued a circular warning dairymen against the use of milk preservatives. Attention is called to the fact that Ontario cheese has obtained an enviable position in the British market, and there is every reason to look for equally favorable prospects in the butter industry. In the British Inittor market, Canadian products must compete with several other countries, especially Denmark, whose export butter is made from Pasteurized cream with special ferments. In some of the countries sending butter to Great Britain, particularly Australia, it has become a practice to use some "preservative" in butter making. Most of these preservatives, sold under different names, are compounds of borac- ic acid. Sometimes the preservative is added to the milk; sometimes it is added to the butter as a salt. The use of these preservatives haa alarmed British buyers, and radical measures are proposed for the exclusion of all butter in which traces of these preservatives are found. The matter has been publicly agitated, ami public officials are now looking out for butter so adulterated. All butter made from milk or cream to which anything save common salt has been added is adulterated. Ontario dairymen are advised to make every effort to prevent these preservatives from gaining a foothold in their province. This advice may well' be considered by our own dairymen upon this side of the Hue. We are looking for foreign markets for our butter and, like the Canadians, we must expect to compete with the best that the foreign markets offer. Process Butter.—What is known as "process butter" is made by working over the assortments of dairy butter sent iu from the country stores, and treating it in such a way that a fairly presentable article is produced. The idea of thus converting a large amount of otherwise useless stuff into a useful article is a good one; but it presents too many opportunities to unscrupulous men to add what they should not. Such grades, too, are coming into sharp competition with good butter at a few centa a, pound less, and are being pushed by commission men because there is more money for them in handling it.—Ex. Mrs Stephen Bonsai will to MeGlnre's for January some "sloftea- gathered in the field oa the day of battle,'' striking personal incidents of* the battle of Cfttiey and San Jnaa. Itt the same number} Mri Hftmlin Ga*»< land Trill contribute a trne story of' Rising Wolf; the "Ghost Dancer." A. Con an Doyle and F. Frankfot* Moore are represented in Ainslee'S- New Year Jmmber by short stories* and Ilichard Hovey contributes- ft splendid ballad called "The Cross* roads." Besides, there is the usual varied assortment of articles, stories* etc., all copiously illustrated. Harper's Magazine for January is- especially valuable for a long list ol articles of contemporary interest* Lieutenant 3. A. Staunton opens the number with an account of the "Naval Campaign of 1898 is the West IndieSi" illustrated by Carlton T. Chapman* An article by II. W. Wilson treats oft the "Naval Lessons of the War4 !1 and:: Prof. Albert lUtshuell Hart contributes- an interesting historical account ot j , "Brother John'atban's Colonies." One of tbe leading features of the January Cosmopolitan is an article telling how Mr. Platt organized and conducted the campaign for tbe election of Koosevelt. It is by a gentleman who wns actively emraged at tha republican headquarters during the campaign, and who gives a vivid picture of the perfection to which political organization lias been carried in New York state by the most astute of malingers. The wary old senator who has been a lifetime in politics and the youngest political aspirant will alike find food for reflection in Mr. Blythe'3 article. Miss Cecilia Beaux, easily first among American women artists, and one of the strongest portrait painters of the day, has made a striking head of Admiral Sampson, from life, which appears as the frontispiece of the Jan- navy number of the Century. This is apropos of the second instalment ot Lieut. Hobson's "Merriniac" papers, in which the sinking of tbe collier, as directed by tbe admiral, is vividly, but: modestly described by the hand that-, did it. • It is said that the original of Scott's Rebecca in "Ivanhoe." as referred to by Mrs. Howt in tbe Juiaary Atlantic^ was Rebecca Gratz, of Philadelphia, founder of the Foster Jewish Slcmie of that city, whose portrait was> .-«»*Titly unveiled in that institution. Scott never saw her, but is said to have heard much of her• from. Washington • Irving, who is believed to have remained a lifelong bachelor from love for her and devotion to her memory. "A Great American Sculptor'' is the- title of an article in the American' Monthly Review of Reviews for January, in which Miss Laura Carroll Dennis describes the work and career of that rising young genius, Mr. George Grey Barnard. The article is. illustrated with photographs' taken especially for the Review, W. L. Taylor's page illustration of Longfellow's Village Blacksmith, printed iu the January Ladies' Home Journal, doubtless represents the highest attainment of'the illustrators art. The old smithy that the poet had in mind when he wrote the famous poem, and the smith—"a mighty man was he"—that he chose as the type of his craft, are reproduced, in the picture. Mr. Taylor, iu gathering material for his series of illustrations of "The People of Longfellow," followed the poet's footsteps through New England aud made a study of the- scenes and personages of his best" known works. As a result, he is presenting in the Journal a series of illustrations that are unequaled. Perhaps the most welcome feature of Harper's Bazar for the present month will be the opening chapters of a new serial by S. It. Crockett, entitled: "Kit Kennedy," a delightful story in the author's usual style. Amongother features are short stories by Anuie E. P. Searing and Maud U. Ohl. Harper's Weekly for 1899 announces: a new serial by H. G. Wells, entitled: •'When the Sleeper Wakes." Harper's Round Table for January, presents an interesting variety of fiction. "Forward, March!" the story of a young Rough Rider, by Kirk Mnn- roe, will be continued. The leading' short story is entitled "Billy of Battery B," by Colgate Baker. Other short stories are: "An Early Free^ Trader," by Reginald Gourlay, "Cap-- tain Sampson's Queer Cargo," by George- B. Walsh; and "The Nerve of Foley," by F. H, Spearman. St. Nicholas starts out upon the new year with drums beating and colprs flying, though it is wholly innocent, of, references to the war. Its nearest ftp* proach to the subject is the opening; article. "Three Little Spanish Princ-- esses," by Isabel MoDougall, with three full-page reproductions of paintings, by the greatest of Spanish portrait, painters, Velasquez, It is a far QPJR from these grave little Spanish ladies, buried long ago, to "Mark Twain'* Pets," "the prettiest mousers thatavec- basked in an atmosphere of fame." A. Great on Stationery U tlio "Smart." Tluug. Quite the "smartest" thing is to havn. your paper stamped with your aoat-qf- arms or crest. If you have no coat oi arms or orest tlio correct thing is sini' ply to have your house number, in full English type, directly across tha tap of the shoot of paper about OUQ inuo (root.the top. On the envelope there, should be no stumping of any kind.— From "Our Girls," in Demarest's Mag* aziua for Januarv. Aim for Good Cows.—What we dairymen should aim at is to secure the best cows we can, and try ; testing each CQW'S milk by ohuruiug separately, aud ascevtatu tor sure whether Uwy pay for tjieii" fcaeniug and giv« us little profit, We csan Ue Curing the year ended September 1. one naasenger was kilted, far every 2,260,000 carried on tha railvoa4fl ia. the. United States. A, "Hr.jnjQ,e," in Russia itt as. QoromQa- Bl&ee as a njain, "Me-" i» England ac the United. Steias*. aaa It dauataa iuac sfco^fc mnig&i w»«|at mnjs.
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