JNf EftNAf I&NAL He tddk 5t hifi .hat, and iHttVed ifie^ lafiieally tabard the 1 stand; a&d there _i fdund a email change that was a (great d&e W him, The pin that had been his from boyhood, where he had 'flongvhls .haimdral Men .he loitered ifaBffie fpenvthe academy, and hirftrst- ihat wnen he came" briskly back from or the office—his pin was bccu- 'pied "-They might have at least respected my pin!" he thought, and he iwas moved as by a slight, and began •at ottce to recollect that he was here an Interloper, in a strange house, which „„ had entered almost by a burglary, and where at any moment he might be : scandalously challenged, He moved at Once, his hat still in hand, to the door of his father's room, (opened it and entered, Mr. Nicholson I sat in the same place and posture as on f that last Sunday morning; only he was older, and grayer, and sterner; and as the now glanced up and caught the eye [of his son, a strange Commotion and a fdark flush sprung into his face. "Father," said John, steadily, and |evett»cheerfully, for this was a moment fagainst which he was long ago pre- ifeared, "father, here ••!, am, a.nd here is ithe'money that! tobk'frotovyou. I have come back to ask your forgiveness, and 1*0 stay Christmas with you and the Ichlldren." "Keep your money," said the father, |"and go!" "Father!" .cried John; "for 0od's sake Iclon't receive me this way. I've come |or—"' . ; ••'•"• '••'.' " '•'.-• "Understand me," Interrupted Mr. licholson; "you are no son of mine; fend in the sight of God, I wash my ands of you. One last thing I Will tell |rou;' one warning I.will give you; all discovered, and you are being hunter |or your -crimes; if you are still at |arge it is thanks to me; but I have 3one all that I mean to do; and from [his time forth I would not raise one |nger—not one finger—to save you from ie gallows! And now," with a low loice of absolute authority, and a singe weighty gesture of the finger, "and ow—go!" gWfcil <$*', *e*fted Mr fat! ¥L . ha ste»d f itfe fit* hand aft tirfe tclf Until the cold tfegaft te nibfcle at "Way are we standing here?" isked ASS66iAtiON. Itlon, the sight of the lamps twinkling 6 the reftr, and the smell of damp and mould and rotten straw vhich clung bout the vehicle, wrought in htm trahge alternations of lucidity and mortal giddiness. ive been drinking," he discov- red; "I must go straight to bed and leefl." And he thanked Heaven for he drowsiness that came upon his mind in waves. From one of these apells he was wak- hed by the stoppage of the cab; and, getting down, found himself In quite a country road, the last lamp of the uburb shining soine way below, and he high walls of a garden rising before him in the dark. The Lodge (as the place was named) stood, indeed, very .olitary. To the south it adjoined another house, but standing in so large a garden as to be well out of cry; on all other sides open fields stretched upward to the .woods of Corstorphlne Hill, or backward to the dells of Ravelston, or downward toward the valley of the ".elth. The effect of seclusion was, aided by the great height of the garden walls, which were, indeed, conventional, and, as John had tested in former days, defied the climbing school-boy. The lamp of the cab threw a gleam upon the door and the not brilliant handle of the bell. "Shall I ring for ye?" said the cabman, who had descended from his perch and was slapping his chest, for the night was bitter. "I wish you would," said John, putting his hand to his brow in one of his accesses of giddiness. The man pulled at the handle, and the clanking of the bell replied from further in the garden; twice and thrice he did it, with sufficient intervals; in the great, frosty silence of the night, the sounds fell sharp and small. "Does he expect ye?" asked the driver, with that manner of familiar interest that well became his port-wine face; and when John had told him no, 'CHAPTER vf OW John passed th< evening, in wha windy confusion o mind, In wha squalls of ange and lulls of sicl collapse, in wha pacing of streets and plunging intc public houses, i would profit littl to relate. His mis ry, if it were not progressive, ye ended in no way to diminish; for in roportion as grief and indiguatio bated, fear began to take their place first, his father's menacing word ly by in some safe drawer of memory |ding their hour. At first John wa fl thwarted affection and blight'e ope; next bludgeoned vanity raised it id again, with twenty mortal gashes 1' the father was disowned even a had disowned the son. What wa Ijis regular course of life, that Job lould have admired it? What wer fese clock-work virtues, from whic fve was absent? Kindness was th kindness the aim and soul; an fdged by such a standard, the discarcl- l.prodigal—now, rapidly drowning his rrows and his reason in successive jms—was a creature of a lovelier Jrality than his self-righteous father. fs, he was the better man; he felt it, pwed with the consciousness, and en- ing a public-bouse at the corner of |ward Place (whither he had sorne- • wandered) he pledged his own vlr- ln a glass—perhaps the fourth his dismissal. Of that he knew (ling, keeping no account of what I'dld or where he went; and in the crashing hurry of his nerves, insclous of the approach of intoxi- in. Indeed, it Js a question whether ere really growing intoxicated, or >V at first the spirits did not even him. For it was even as he led t'his last glass that his father's and menacing words—pop- hiding-place in men> biro like a hand laid upon f 'gulder, ''Crimes, hunted, the gal- Tbty W,ere WSly words.; in the an innocent man, perhaps all some judicial error act against him, who should Ilimlt to its grossness.,or to 'how be. pushed? Not John, }n- je was no believer in the powers ipcence, hjs cursed experience ag in quite other ways; and We e wakened, grew with every jjd hunted hjnT about tho city §, perhaps, nearly nine at night; ';,,eaten nothing since lunch, he jk i good deal, and he was ex- by eniotlpn, when the thought came }pto his hea4, He merejy to the roan as a to'hisjiQuse a place of ref> " him i vague timt Ror,wh,?r? "Well, then," said the cabman, "if ye'll tak' my advice of it, we'll just gang back. And that's disinterested, mind ye, for my stables are in the Glesgie road." "The servants must hear," said John. "Hout!" said the driver. "He keeps no servants here, man. They're a' in the town house; I drive him often; It'a just a kind of a hermitage, this." "Give me the bell," said John; and he plucked at it like a man desperate. The clamor had not yet subsided before they heard steps upon the gravel, and a voice of singular nervous irritability cried to them through the door, "Who are you, and what do you want?" "Alan," said John, "it's me—it's Fatty—John, you know, I'm just come home, and I've come to stay with you." There was no reply for a moment, and then the door was opened. "Get the portmanteau down," said John to the driver. "Do nothing of. the kind," said Alan, and then to John, "Come in here a moment. I want to speak to you." John entered the garden, and the door was closed behind 'him. A candle stood on the gravel walk, winking a little in the draughts; It threw inconstant sparkles on the clumped holly, struck the light and darkness to and fro like a veil on Alan's features, and sent his shadow hovering behind him. All beyond was inscrutable; and John's dizzy brain rocked with the shadow. Yet even so, it struck him that Alan was pale, and his voice, when he spoke, unnatural. "What brings you here to-night," he began. "I don't want, God knows, to seem unfriendly; but I can not take you in, Nicholson; I can not do it." "Alan," said John, "you've just got to! You don't know the mess I'm in; the governor's turned me out, and I daren't show my face in an inn, because they're down on me for murder or something!" "For what?" cried Alan, starting. "Murder, I believe," says John. "Murder!" repeated Alan, and passed his hand over his eyes. "What was that you were saying?" he asked again. "That they were dowu on me," said John. '"I'm accused of murder, by what I can make out; and I've really had a dreadful day,of It, Alan, and I can't sjeep on the road-side on a night like this—at least, not with a portmanteau," he pleaded. "Hush!" eald Alan, with bis head on o»e side; and then, "Did you hear nothing?" he asked. "No," said John, thrilling, he knew not why, with communicated terror. "No, I heard nothing; why?" And then, as there was no answer, he reverted to his pleading: . . "But I say, Alan, you've got to take me In. I'll go right away to bed if you have anything to do. I seem to have been drinking; I was that knocked over, I wouldn't turn you away, Alan, if you 'were down on your luck," "No?"-returned Alan, "Neither will I you, then. 'Come and let's get your portmanteau." , cabwan was l>aW, and " Ll ' OVQ ° 11 „„,,„ the long, larnp-lisUted njll, ami the two friends fltogd o» the sidewalk the nortw8nie»u WlMlwJwrt rumble of 1 flald Alan, blankly* "Why, man, yoti don't seem self," said the other. "Mo, I'M not myself, w said Alan; and he sat down on the portmanteau and put his face in his hands. John stood beside hint swaying a lit* tie, and looking about him at the sway* ing shadows, the flitting sparkles, and the steady stars overhead, until the windless cold began to touch him through his clothes oh the bare skinf Even in his bemused intelligence, wofK der began to awake. "1 say, let's come on to the house," he said at last. "Yes, let's come on to the house," re» peated Alan. And he rose at once, reshouldered the portmanteau, and taking the candle In his other hand, moved forward, to the Lodge. This was-a long, low building, smothered in creepers; and nbw f except for some chinks of light between the dining-room shutters, it was plunged in darkness and silence. In the hall Alan lighted another candle, gave it to John, and opened tho door of a bedroom. "Here," said he; "go to bed. Don't mind me, John. You'll be sorry for me when you know." "Walt a bit." returned John; "I've got so cold with all that standing about, Let's go into the dining-room a ; mlnute.; Just one glass to warm me, Alan/' On the table in the hall stood a glass, and a bottle with a whisky label on a tray. It was plain the bottle had been just opened, for the cork and corkscrew lay beside it. "Take that," said Alan, passing John the whisky, and then with a certain roughness pushed his friend into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. John stood amazed; then he shook the bottle, and, to his further wonder, found it partly empty. Three or four glasses were gone. Alan must have uncorked a bottle of whisky and drank three or four glasses one after the other 'without sitting down, for there was no chair, and that In his own cold lobby on this freezing night! It fully explained his eccentricities, John reflected savagely, as he mixed himself a grog. Poor Alan! He was drunk; and what a dreadful thing was drink, and what a slave to it poor Alan was, to drink in this unsociable, uncomfortable fashion! The man who would drink alone, except for health's sake—as John was now doing—was a man utterly lost. He took the grog out, and felt hazier, but f mf'-fttfcKi^*ii*>ft*i* I! thoii Me AM« »« thy £*ti is iet f to th§ wotks, the uppef reseivdif erf tew* salem, the general the besieging cat-bin^ to they fide tip and tne tmng bMhe ekls 61 beate'gsd Jerusalem are in Consult atlOn l •Though General Rab'Shakeh had been largely paid to stop the siege, he kept the money and continued the stege-the military miscreant! Rab-ahakeh derides the capacity of the city to defend Itself, and practically says, "You have not two thousand men who can manage horses. Produce two thousand cavalrymen, and I will give you a present of two thousand cavalry horses. You have not in all your besieged city of Jerusalem two thousand men who can mount them, and by bit and bridle control a horse." Rab-shakeh realized that it is easier to find horses than skilful riders, and hence he makes the challenge of the text, "I will deliver thee two thousand horses, if thou be able to set riders upon them," , Rab-shakeh, like many another bad man, said a very suggestive thing. The world is full of great energies and great opportunities, but few know how to bridle them and mount them and manage them. More spirited horses than competent riders! The fact is that.In' warmer. It was hard work opening the portmanteau and finding his night things, and before ;he was undressed, the cold had struck home to him once more. "Well," said he; "just a drop more. There's no sense in getting ill with all this other trouble." And presently dreamless slumber burled him. (TO BB COXT1NDBO.I ARCTIC EXPLORATION. What la to He Gained from the Dangerous Expedition!. To ascertain with greater precisian, the shape, size and density of the earth, the astronomer's base of measures, and thus render the science of surveying more accurate, ten pendulum observations near the unknown extreme pf the arc are worth a hundred elsewhere. Observations on magnetism, especially near the magnetic pole, will benefit the thousands of vessels which largely depend for their safety on the precision with which the compass can be interpreted. To the meteorologist the Arctic is of special importance, because it presents the extremes of a world-embracing system, each of whose parts affects every other. Tides and currents are similarly interdependent. The aurora can best be studied where it is most common and most fully developed, Observations on the character and behavior of planets and animals under the unique conditions of the Arctic will give to the etudent of organic life a more thorough mastery of his problems. To that end the hydrography must be known (depth of sea, temperature, water movement, sea bottom, salinity, light). The Arctic affords the best facilities for studying one set of geologic forces (glaciers, icebergs, frost Assuring) in their extreme manifestation. The conditions of the earth in past geologic epochs will not be fully the church of God we have plenty of fortresses well manned, and plenty of heavy artillery, and plenty of solid columns of brave, Christian soldiery, but what we most need is cavalry— mounted troops of God — for sudden charge that seems almost desperate. If Washington, if New York, If London are ever taken for God, it will not be by slow bombardment of argumentation, or by regular unllmbering of great theological guns from the portholes of the churches, but by gallop of sudden assault and rush of holy energy that will astound and throw into panic the long lines of drilled opposition, armed to the teeth. Nothing so scares the forces of sin as a revival that comes, they know not whence, to do that which they cannot tell, to work in a way that they cannot understand. They will be overcome by flank movement. The church of God must double up their right or left wing. If tb,ey expect us from the north; we will take them from the south, if they expect us at twelve o'clock at noon, we will come upon them at twelve o'clock at night. The opportunities for this assault are great and numerous, but where are the men?" "I will deliver thee two thousand horses, if thou be able to set riders upon them." The opportunities of saving America and saving the entire planet were never so many, never so urgent, never so tremendous as now. Have you not noticed the willingness of the printing press of the country to give the subject of evangelism full swing in column after column? Such work was formerly con- flned to tract distribution and religious journalism. Now the morning and evening newspapers, by hundreds and thousands of copies, print all religious intelligence and print most awakening discourses. Never since the world has stood has such a force been offered to all engaged in the world's evangelization. Of the more than fifteen thousand newspapers on this continent, I do not know one that is not alert to catch' arid distribute all matters of religious information, Oh, now I see a mighty -suggestlveness in the fact that the first book=of any importance that, was ever published, after Johann Gutenberg invented the art of printing, was the Bible. Well might that poor man toil on, polishing stones and manufacturing looking-glasses, and making experiments that brought upon him the charge of insanity, and borrowing money, now from Martin Brother and now from Johann Faust, until he set on foot the mightiest power for the evangelization of the world, The statue in bronze which Thorwaldsen erected for Gutenberg in 1837, and the statue commemorating him by David P'An- gers In 1840, and unveiled amid all the pomp that wiilltary processions and trtsefts in thftt when the Israelites: tf&cafjgd froffi figypt< Mi? ihaaatad fistaifyareft Me through the patted ftid Sea. fhfee hundred and sevetity*0fl6 yeafa before Christ, EuatntndndaB headed nil tftdps at full gallop. Alexander, 6n a hene that ho other ffian could fide, led his mounted troopa. SeVefi thftusand horSfi* men decided the struggle at Arbela, 'Although- saddles were not ..invented until tho time • of Constantiw, and stirrups mt e unknown- until about four hundred and v fifty years after Christ, you hear the neighing and snorting of war-chargers in the greatest battles of the ages. Austerlitz, and Marfenga, and golferino were decided by the cavalry, The mounted (Jossacki reinforced the Russian snow stdrms im the obliteration of the French army. Napoleon said if he had only had sUf* flcient cavalry at Bautzen and Lutfcen his wars would have triumphantly ended. I do not wonder that the Duke of Wellington had his old war horse, Copenhagen, turned out in best pasture, and that the Duchess of Wellington wore a bracelet of Copenhagen's hair. Not one drop of my blood but tingles as I look at the arched neck and pawing hoof and panting nostril of Job's cavalry horse: "Hast thoU clothed his neck with thunder? He paweth in ,t,he valley: he- goeth on to -meet the armed men. The quiver rattleth against him, the glittering spear and the shield, He salth among the trumpets, Ha, ha; and he smelleth the battle afar off, the thunder of the captains, and the shouting." .'.•''• • * • Standing as I do, in this National audtheaaytWau^..^ itiifii dt-iiStiif jive jfrife tt£t "tiJfriiSdi'i-i'iv'i \t tney tJoUlfi Qp,uS no narmY. *' #0? fhs fiedfifer we get . _ Ihis lite, If ,mir\wd;rfe be deife, tfas ttfc "Nd man is ,iafe till be "" tteh Wfecked, and At ait i _ Lady Napier were on horgfeback; road iti India'. 'Lord Maj>i6f« said'to 1 Lady Haflietv fetch assistance,' an'd, do. not ' Ask why." Shewed oft a«d Vai iadtt of sight, The fact was'a tlgtifi glared on them from the.thicket, atft he did not dare to tell her, lest,' '&- ^ frighted, she fall in the danger aiidVl perhaps lose hef life- From a!} Sides > 4rs of us, on this road of life, there 1 "a" ' perils glaring on us, from tigers • temptation, and tigers of aedide'flt,' and tigers of death, and the sooner we- get- out of the perils of this life the bettef. Let-189? take the place of 1898, ftnd" 1898 the place of 189?, and our SOulS will be landed where there shall be "nothing to hurt or destroy in, all Gbd'8' holy mount." "No lion shall Jb« there, nor any ravenous beast shall got,u^, ? ™™ thereon, it shall not be found ther^bul^ffi the redeemed shall walk. there/'/Atldj \\* the ransomed of the Lord shall VetttrV -'-'«? and come to Zion with songs, and everlasting joy up:m their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness, Capital, let me say that what we want In the Senate and House of Representatives and the Supreme Court id a pen- known until the strata of the Arctic lands have been mapped. To the paleontologist the Arctic has already yielded most valuable Jnf ormatipn in the fossil evidence of a mild climate. Lockwopcl and Bralnerd found the slopes of Western Grinnell Land, stud"' ded with large petrified tree stumps. These and similar fossila, precious to museums or geological cabinets, cai* probably be reached by way of Hayes Sound. To the ethnologist the Eskimo represent a phase of human life without a parallel,— Popular Science Monthly, _ Mnvtq't <io Abroad, The lord chancellor is the only member of the British cabinet who is not allowed to gp outside of Great Britain, This Is because he must have the seal 1» bis persgnal custody, and to German bands of best music could give the occasion/were insignificant compared with the fact, to be depon- strated before aji earth and all hegven, that Johanu Gutenberg, under God, ill' &i!gurated forces whJPh wj]J yet accomplish the world's redemptjpn,. The newspaper press will yet announce nations born in a day. The newspaper press will report Christ's sermons yet to be delivered, and describe his personal appearance, if, as some think, he shall come again tp reign on earth, The newspaper press may yet publish, Christ's proclamation of the world's emancipation from sin and sorrow death. Tens of thousands pf good in this and other lands have been pr- dai.ned by the laytpg cm of bands to preach the Gospel, but It seems to me that just now, py the laying on of the tccostal blessing that will shake the continent with divine mercy. There recently came into my hands the records of two Congressional prayer-meetings, on the rolls of which were the names of the most eminent Senators and Representatives who then controlled the destinies, of this republic—the one Congressional prayer-meeting in 1857, and the other in 1866. The record is in the hand-writing of the 'philanthropist, William E. Dodge, then a member of Congress. There are now more Christian men in the National Legislature than ever before. Why will they not band together in a religious movement which before the inauguration of the next President, shall enthrone Christ in the hearts of this nation? They have the brain, they have the eloquence, they have the influence. God grant them the grace sufficient! Who in Congressional circles will establish the Capitollne prayer-meeting in 1897? Let the evening of the last decade of this century be irradiated with such a religious splendor. There are the opportunities for a national and international charge, all bridled and saddled. Where are the riders to mount them? Here also are opportunities all ready for those who would enter the kingdom of God. Christ said that the kingdom of heaven was to be taken by violence. By one flash you may enter. Quicker than any equestrian ever dashed through castle gate you may pass into the pardon and hope of the Gospel. As quickly as you can think "Yes" or "No," as quickly as you can make a choice, so quickly may you decide the question of eternal destiny. No one was ever slowly converted. He may have been thinking about it forty .years, but not one imh of progress did he make until the moment of assent, the very second in which he said "I will," That Instant decided all. Bring out the worst two thousand men in all the earth, and here are'two thousand opportunities of iinmediate and eternal salvation. "I will deliver thee two thousand horses, if thou be able to set riders upon them." The cavalry suggests speed. When once the reins are gathered into the hands of the soldierly horseman, and the spurs are struck into' the flank?, you hear the rataplan of the hoofs. "Velocity" is the word that describes the movement — acceleration, momen- tum-r-and what we want in getting into the kingdom of God is celerity, You see the years are so swift, and the weeks are so cwift, and the days are so swift, and the hours are so swjft, and the minutes are so swift, we need to be swift. For lack of this appropriate The Simplicity of Washington. t He had seldom seemed so stern, deed, as in one,incident of those trying j^Si months, says Harper's. -An Officer oQy$jL the American army had been taken In" 'n i' ; 'f|f a sklrmlflh and the English' had* per- v '•'' >J mitted'a brutal'company of loyalists,^;"^;|1 'under one Capt. Lipplncott, to tak6 him'. 'i\ ^ from his prison dn New York, and hang - "" him in broad, daylight on the heights •, near Middletown. Washington at once '• notified the British commander that unless the murderers were delivered up , to be punished a British officer would'^, be chosen by lot from among his pris-* oners to suffer in his stead, and, when' reparation was withheld, proceeded without hesitation to carry his threat', into execution. The lot fell upon Capt Charles Asgill, an engaging youth of but 19, the heir of a great English fam-(- Ily. Lady Asgill, the lad's mother,' did not stop short of moving tho French, court to intervene to save her son, and '.^t & : ^' ?:& lianas of Jhe newspaper presses, are being Qod., AJmighty, the ' take the great seal outside of would be high treason fpj- prea.ch.Jng j;he GpspeJ with ' wjd.<3j* $weej> pud metier r^Qun^ have ;ever omcirl fti'Vi id .i jr\/\wfr*via 1^-to.n n speed many do not get into heaven at all.. Here we are in the }&st Sabbath of the year, Did you ever know a twelfth-month quicker to be gone? The gojden rod of one autumn speaks to the golden rod of the next autumn," and the crocus of one springtime to the crocus of another springtime, and the snowbanks of Adjoining years almost reach each other in unbroken curve, We are In too much hurry abput most things, Business men In too much hjm'y rush into speculatipns that ruin them and ruin others, People move from place to place in too great they wear put their nerves, at last the congress itself counseled Wto'',, 1 release, the English commander .hav-^, ^ ing disavowed' the act of the murder— i „ ers in whose place he was to suffer, v . and Washington himself having asked "",' to be directed what he should , do. ' "Capt. Asgill has been released," he < wrote to Vergennes, in answer to the ' great minister's Intercession. "I have ' ' no right to assume any particular merit, ' for the lenient manner in which this disagreeable affair has terminated. But I beg you to believe, sir, that I most sincerely rejoice, 'not only toe-' cause your humane intentions are gratified, but because the event ac-\V cords with the wishes of his meet Ghris^, tian majesty." ' • ', ' It lifted a great weight from his heart to have the Innocent boy go unhurt from his hands, and he wrote almost ,; tenderly to him in acquainting him ,with his release, but it was of his aim- * plo nature to have sent the lad to the gallows, nevertheless, had things con-i. tinued to stand as they were at first.'' He was Inexorable to check perfldyi and vindicate the just rules of war,*'' Men were reminded, while the affair-' l . pended, of the hanging of Apdre, Ar*, > uold's British confederate in treason, as a spy and how pitiless the com- ' mander-in-chief had seemed in sending the'frank, accomplished, lovable gen- t ; tleman to his disgraceful death, grant- -_ Ing him not even the favor to be shot;' t like a soldier. It seemed hard to loam ' the inflexible lines upon which that < consistent mind worked, as if it had \ gone to school to fate. > • ' i But no one deemed him hard or 'stem or so much as a thought more or less than human when at the last the J3rlt«'. ish bad withdrawn from New York and he stood afnid his officers at Fraunqes' • ta,vem to say good-bye, He could, hardly speak for emotion; he pou\d r only lift his glass and say; "WW a heart full of love and gratitude I weaken the heart's action. But the qnly thing in which, they sire afrftid gt being top hasty is the matter pf the. soul's salvation, yet did, any nnp ever get damaged by tga qulcfc repentance pr tpp flWiok pai'don-'Qr take my leave of you, most wishing that your latter days may be' as prosperous and happy as your fafy •• mer ones have been glorious and 1*90-''; orabie, * * * I cannot cems to eaojtjA, of you and take my leave," jje "but shall be obliged, if you wJJJ and take me by the hanfl," When Qe"$? 1 who stood nearest, appro&Qhe^: him, he drew him tp bjni with a Sudden » impulse, and kissed him, a,M net ft &PK,. d,ler among'them all went away out an embrace from this, ma» wjjo. • deemed pold and distant. ' parting they followed,him. in eUe$c£ Whitehall ferry p4 saw for- bis journey,' f'Mi Horses alway§ nolnj ojje y;h,e» '
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