The Cedarville Herald, Volume 11, Numbers 22-52
nmm'- The Gedarville Herald. to H. BLAIR, FuMMMr, CEDARVILLE, i : : OHfO. STORIES TOLD BY HUNTERS. driihuiit*, DuflUloea, .nil Still Mora Baraga Men. '•There are few more thrilling* eighth.” Kaid one of the veteran sports men at the campfire, "thau an elephant fight. 1 don’t mean a fight with an ele phant,.though that maybe pretty thrill* .ing. to you, if yofc wound the brute without disabling him and be goto after yon in the open. But I mean a fight between elephants/’ “I didn’t know they ever fought,” in- . ierrupted the novice in the jungle. • • .. •‘‘You would know it if you ever saw two ‘tuskers’ fairly a t it,” was tho re- ' ply, “They don’t often do it, bu t when they do it is a battle to death. One day, ■upin the hill country, jl saw such acom- ibat. They were hard a tit when I came in sight. They were on the hillside. One of them, a burly stout-built beaBt, with short, powerful tusks, was evi dently getting much the worst of the scrimmage, and the white and red fur rows in bis sides plainly indicated seams made by his antagonist’s tusks. Blood was. trickling down his head and shoulders. On the rise of the hill was his enemy, a still larger animal, pos sessing the advantage of longer tusks. I t was a lost fight. In a few minntes the victor, with a quick rush at the other made a good thrust a t the side. There was a severe struggle, but the . tusk went its full length into the now beaten brute, and . using all i his weight the viotor pressed him down the hill, where they disengaged themselves and prepared for another bout. The wounded tusker’s roars of pain were pitiful to hear. He turned tail and sought safety in flight. But th e other kept c I obo behind him and gave him thrust after thrust, but not in any vital part. Pretty soon they wheeled around, raced, and came to gether with a mighty smash. This was about the only stand made, 'and tho beaten brute was quickly overpowered by the more powerful and fresher vic to r. The thrusts now put behind the shoulder and into the body quickly dis abled the poor brute, and in fact In a few jbninutes the cbmbat was over. The conqueror with one rush complete ly rqlled his enemy over, and by re peated thrustsinto the prostrate form finished the fight amid moanings and trumpotlngs. ’ '. . ' . * “I got some men and went out next ' morning to look for the body and got the tusk^ We found a big herd of ele phants in an excited Btate almost on the spot where the finish had occurred. In It were several small taskers, besides th e big conqueror of the evening before, who seethed to instil • great deal of te a r into the youngsters. He came out into the open glade with a fine yonng female, and as he approached there was a general stampede ,ont of his way. 1\> came on the dead beast, which had been butted and rolled after it was killed Into a clump of bamboos. It had been a fine, burly animal, but was marked from forehead to rear and top * to foot by rips and cuts. He measured nine feet six inches at tho shoulder, and the tusks proved slightly over one hun dred pounds the pair. The victor, which in the fight appeared to tower over his foe, must have been quite ten feet high, and had the. longest tusks I. have ever seen clear of their Boekets. I tried to get him, but what with his harem about him and the difficulty of getting a clear vlow in tho long grass I failed to get a sho t” “1 don’t know, though,” said an old hunter, who had been In Africa, “but th a t I would rather take my chances w ith an elephant than with a real mad buffalo. There is no more savage brute, and none more indomitable and persist e n t In his wrath. I t la not that they are swifter or stronger or that their horns are a more deadly weapon. Bnt they display pertinacity of spite which makes them exceedingly formidable. X et a lion miss his first spring and lie w ill turn away—unless ravenously bun- jgry—in disappointment and disgust from his intended victim. Let a rhinoc eros be wounded, and, unless hemmed In by loes, he will make for the water. Bu t the wounded buffalo sticks to his enemy, and has been known to watch under a tree for days in the hope of se curing his revenge upon the hunter who 'had climbed it to escape his fury. The natives have a special plan of their own for capturing them. They used to se lect the special bull they wanted to kill and entice or drive it from its compan ions, Two or three of them would en gage tile animal’s attention in front, leaping nimbly to one side to avoid his furious charges, while another hunter took the risky job of creeping up •be hind and hamstringing the beast. They were generally successful, but many lives were lost every year in buffalo hunting, and the natives themselves consider it the most dangerous quadru ped in the forest.*'—Chicago Tribune. —The late Rev. William Jay, of Bath, ahdfj-Andrew Fuller .were driving to gether, when a bird flew across the road and so frightened the >hor*e that he ran away. Having got home without , Injury they were talking over tho mat ter: “Brother,” said Mr. F filer, “that was n very awkward, disagreeable bird; i t was Hite a jay.” “No,” was the re joinder, “it was fuller in tho neck, fuller m the body, and fuller all over.” The bird hi reality, aa they both knew, to t ukan owL THE BATTLE FIELR HIS LA8T BATTLE, Tho Fothetlc End ofa Ilrava YoungConfed- ' orate Hero. “After the battle ut Pittsburgh Land ing,” says an ex-Confederate, “I had oc casion to visit a wounded comrade in one of the hospitals a t Memphis. Occu pying the same ward with him was a lad fifteen years of age named Charlie Jackson. Ills case was hopeless and the little fellow knew it. Hr. Keller, the surgeon in charge, related his sto ry, and it so aptly illustrates the. char acter of the private soldier, whether fighting under the stars and bars or the stars and stripes, that it is worthy, of repetition. Several months prior to the battle his father had raised a company, in which Charlie was permitted to drill, and eventually he became so expert in the manual that a t times he was permit ted to act as drill-master. After a while marching orders were received, when the father, .considering the age of the boy, and probably his own paternal feelings, told him that he must remain a t home. To this Charlie strongly de murred, and gave his parent to under stand that if he could not go with him ho would join another company. Yield ing to his obstinacy, a sort of silent con sent was given, and the lad left home for the front with, the rest of the boys. “The regiment to which they belong was ordered to Burnsville, several miles from Corinth. Here it remained until the Friday or Saturday preceding the battle, when orders were received to re pair at once to the field and take pos session. Charlie was asleep a t the time of the departure, and the father, un willing that one so young should under go the fatigue of a long march of twen ty miles and the dangers of the coining fight, gave orders that the boy should not bo aroused. When several honrs afterward, Charlie ■awoke and took in the situation of affairs he instantly de termined to follow. Seizing his gun he started alone on the trail of his absent regiment. . Hour after hour he trudged along, and just as they hulted. prepara tory to going into battle, he. succeeded in joining his company. His father chided him, but how could he do otherwise than admire the indomitable spirit of his boy? The fight began and Charlie was Soon in its midst. A bullet struck, him and made an ugly wound that would have sent most men to the rear, but the lad pressed on with unchecked enthusiasm, firing, cheering and charg ing with the remainder of his regiment until'at a Into hour of the day he fell with another bullet in his leg. Giving a cheer he called to his father to ‘Go on. Don’t mind me. Keep on. ■ 1’U lie here till you come back.’ This, of course, the feelings of the parent would not per mit him to do, and taking his son in his arms he carried him to the nearest field hospital. A day or two after the battle the little soldier was sent toMcnpliis, feeble, yet full of hope qnd courage. “When Dr, Keller, the surgeon-in- ehlef, examined the wound he saw that the poor boy was beyond recovery,, and that an umputation of the limb would only increase liis sufferings without pro longing life. Charlie noticed the sober countenance of the physician as he turned away to break the mournful news to tho weeping father and mother, for nothing could be done bnt adminis ter opiates that would allay the pain. When, a few minutes afterward, the surgeon returned to the bedside of tho sufferer, the young hero abruptly met him with the remark: “ ‘Doctor, will you answer me a straight-forward question and tell me the truth?” “The physician mused a moment,then said: ‘Yes, Charlie, I will; but you must prepare for bad news.’ *“Can i Jive?” “No; nothing can save you but a mir acle. You have a mortal wound.” ‘ “Well, I thought so myself,’ was the response. ‘I feel as if I was going to die. Do father and mother know this?’ • “ ‘Yes,’ answered the surgeon, *1hare just told them.’ 1“Please ask them to come in here.' “When the parents had done so and taken their places by the bedside Char lie, reached out, and, grasping their hands, said: “ ‘Dear father and mother, Dr. Keller says that I can't live. I ’m not afraid to Hie, but I want to ask your forgiveness for all the wrong I have done. I have tried to be a good boy in every way but one, and that was when I disobeyed yon both and joined the army. 1 couldn’t help that, for I felt as if I ought to be right where vou were, father, and to fight as long as T was able. I’m only sorry that f can’t fight through the war. If I’ve said or done any thing wrong, won't you forgive me?’ “The afflicted parents could only weep their assent, “ ‘Now, father,” continued tho boy, 'one thing more; don’t slay here, but go back to tiro boys ig camp and tell them how you left me. Mother will take good care of me, and you are more wanted in the company than in the hos pital. And, father, tell the boys how I died—just ns a soldier ought to, and that 1shall watch them and p ray . for them in camp and in battle.’ “A few days afterward Charlie breathed his last, and the soldier told me that, inured as he was to spectacles of suffering and woe, when he stood by the side of that dying boy his heart overflowed in tears, and he knelt down and sobbed like a child.”—N, Y. Press. Fx-Co!frft»KttATES are raising funds for a monument a t Helena, Ark., to General Patrick Cleburne. SHERIDAN AND THE DRIVER. Tka Little Captain Was Top Mush Vor the Big Teamster, One of the best illustrations of the character of General Sheridan is re lated of him by General Bussey, when in the early days of the war he was do ing duty as*quartermaster in Southwest Missouri. “A provision, wagon bound for head quarters,” says the General, “with its team of mules, was stuck fast in the mud some few miles south of Springfield. The driver, who was a big^burly man, standing over six feet in built in proportion, finding that his team was unable to move the heavily laden wagon, began tp belabor unmerci fully the poor beasts. “Seated on a stout, shaggy, black horse, which was pursuing its way to the left of the road, was a broad-shoul dered, low-sized man clad in the fatigue uniform of the regulation army blue, bu t without any insignia of rank or staff buttons, and wearing on his head an old, much-battered cap. Pulling up his horse a t the stalled wagon, the horseman demanded authoritatively of the teamster why he was whipping the animals so severely. “The only reply that h e , received to his question was a string of oaths, and to make' matters worse <the fellow struck the near mule a violent blow with the heavy butt of .bis ‘black jack,’ as the wagoner’s whip is called. “In answer to a shout from the rider, the. surly teamster said that if he did not take care and ' mind his own busi ness a similar blow would be dealt him. The threat was scarcely uttered, when 'Little Phil,’ for such it was. shot from the saddle and had the ruffian by the throat. “Although it was evident that the asr sailant was much; the smaller man of the two, still in a few- seconds,, he .had. his opponent on his knees', and rained upon his head, neck and chest a volley of savage blows, ending in twisting the whip out of the man’s hand, and apply ing it vigorously over arms and shoul ders, until the fellow fnifty howled for mercy. When at last the wagoner was permitted to arise from the ground, he received as a parting warning a severe kick from the irate captain. ■ • “ ‘Who the deuce are you?’ was the question of the astonished and thor oughly frightened bully us Soon as he recovered sufficient breath,- “ ‘Captain Sheridan, quartermaster of this army;-and if you don’t get to work quick to get this wagon out of the way I ’ll thrash you again.’ “It is needless to say that Sheridan’s orders -were executed with alacrity. The mules by that time had regained their strength-and wind, and in a few minutes the team and wagon weye on firm ground again. With a parting ad monition ‘Little Phil’ mounted his pa tient horse, which had watched the en counter with Bceming approval, amlrode towards headquarters as unconcerned os if nothing hod happened.”—Chicago News. . -________ ___ ONE OF THE QUEER CHANCES The Marrow Europe of a Soldier trom Death. ' Every once in a while some war vet eran, under proper circumstances and .conditions, will tell you how he escaped death ut such a place and such a time by tho '/queerest chance in tho world." One of these “queerest chances in the world” fell to the lot of an old-timer who lives $nGermantown, and, in truth, It is oho of the very queerest. He was about to leave for the seat of war in 1863, and the girl to whom hc he was IN WOMAN’S BEHALF. WHY HAVE WOMEN NO TIME. f e n m l : Bwuani Given---Are Not the Wrlter’nt'tmclmloni Logical and Correct? Men seldom complain of lack of time, out of business hours; but women com plain of it habitually. Whether a t home or absent from it, they are ever occupied. They always have a hundred things to do; they are never able to finish, before going to bed. what they have planned ,-uu** W*® ihorning. Husbands frequently hetaht^and 1sP°ak of this without capacity to under* . ^ ! ntnrw l i t a . . L a « ha Ana maawa stand it. True, women have far more to do than men; true, their work can never be finished. But is it true that they have no time? And if it be, is not the fault measurably theirs? As has often been said, they have all the time tliqre is. If the days were forty-eight hours long would they have any more? Not a particle. Persons who uniformly feel and say that they have no time, are predestined never to have any. Why is it that women have no time? Chiefly because they are without system; because they do not take advantage of odd minutes; thirdly, because they are always trying” to ,be polite. The fact that men a c t ' very differently may ac count for their usually having time to; do what they wish. While women’s time is liable to ceaseless interruption; while they have no hours, as men, still,' might they .not adopt some tiling like system? They generally .know, when they get up in the morning, what their occupations will be until the hour of go ing to bed. They should devote differ ent periods to different duties, and ad here to them as rigidly as they can. In theory, they often do; in.practjce they do not. They obey impulse and the convenience of the moment. They per mit themselves to bo turned aside from the tiling in hand to some thing cl$e; and .each interruption involves thrice the loss of time that the mere interrup tion costs. Their duties become confused, their* intentions tangled, and when the day lias closed they find various* things neg lected which they had fully made up their mind to perform. The next day, they think they will not fail of per formance'; but the same circumstances intervene, with tlia same result. And so it goes from week to week, from month to month, until the poor women, constantly struggling-.conStantly resolv ing, constantly failing, get very nerv ous, and despair of ever accomplishing what, they undertake. They keep bravely and actively at work; but the consciousness of regularly, falling be hind must ultimately effect their spirits and Weaken their determination. They are inclined to attempt more than they, or any ono of their nature, in their cir cumstances,. can possibly achieve. If they would attempt half as much, and complete the half, the effect would be salutary. Nothing is much more dis heartening than the memo"/ of not do ing what we had purposed.. A series of such memories will, in season, weaken the will, and thus impair capacity. Women are more courageous, morally, than we are. When we should despond and lose our hold on life by repeated failure, they retain their confidence, ami still grasp their aim. They hope against ’hope; they are cheerful in the face of ' disappointment. They believe after ten or twenty years of never having had time to do what they wish, that they will yet have all the time they crave. Beautiful fuitli! Hunguine women I As un example of a want of system, n woman decides to appropriate two hours of morning—from 10 to 13{o’clock-*to a engaged, among numerous other things, 1 occupation. She in a t it when, gave him a chest-protcctor made by her ; a t„ 10i?0' , sonie ordinary acquaintance own fair hands and wet by her tears, i calls, hnvingno right or reason to inter- I t was meant to be practical, and was of ' rupt kcr’ Doesshcnsk to be excused, immense thicknoss-that is, it was pad- 1“ • “ “ " ° “ld? «> moans. Sho ded to the depth of an inch or two. Dm- t h l n k ® t h a t " h e o o g h t t o see the ac- ing a long and tedious campaign in quaintwee, presumably feminine, or it chilly weather, the soldier found it in- *™ol,.ld ? P»tjr to aend her away after valuable aa a safeguard against colds, and wore it almost constantly. lie had it'on one morning when plunged into the heat of a hand-to-hand skir mish. The affair developed into quite a little battle and soon the straggling fire on both sides had become rattling volleys. When it wan over the soldier retired to his tent and removed his coat and shirt in order to stanch the flow of blood from a small flesh wound in his back. In removing the protector he felt a sharp pain shoot through his chest., and then he noticed that the pro tector was cut all up by the passage of a bullet. An investigation developed an awfully “queer chance." Hissweet- heart had accidentally left a needle sticking in the pad which he had never noticed before. This ran right through the cloth and a bullet had struck it on the point. The needle had been forced back clear through a thick button on his woolen undershirt and thence had gone a little distance into the skin. The resistance of the button had forced the soft lead of the bullet clear round the’ncedle so that the bullet was fairly impaled on the slender wire. Thus was the life of the soldier saved, and through the carelessness of his beloved in leav ing the needle in the protector,—Chica go Journal. FOR THE OLD SOLDIERS, T he Confederate army numbered a t the time of Its final Surrender 175,000 men. T hirty years ago Brigadier General John It. Brooke was a young lawyer in Central Pennsylvania. T he flag over Grant’s tomb a t River side is more weather-riddled than the banners his own brave boys brought home from bloody victories. she has taken the trouble to come, etc., etc,, in the typical manner of woman’s over-compassion, She sees her; she consumes an hour or more of valuable time, and then that engagement must be deferred. The next day arrives, and she begins again. At 11 o'clock, a let- tor from s dear friend Is brought id. I t is delightful to read; but it demands no answer a t any given date. I t has, however, touched her heart; she will reply while her emotions are warm. She spends two or three honrs In th a t way, when fifteen minutes would have ’ sufficed (how women waste themselves in writing superfluously Jottg letters!) and again the special duty is deferred. These interruptions continually occur —they arc of great variety, but com monly of a more or less social character —and so interfere with routine as to render it impossible, jLman would not admit of any such encroachments on his business dr dutiei, and therefore saves his time for his own use, instendof dis tributing it miscellaneously among his fellows, who are not at all benefited by what is a positive loss to him. The se rious mistake of women is in their effort to combine the social and the practical, to be attractive and efficient simulta neously. Whohas ever known a woman having any relation to society to say to a visitor, “I have just five minutes to spare and then I must go?” She may say, “I am in a great hurry; I have au important engagement;” and a t the end of an hour, she will be so interested in the conversation as to be unmindful of hpr hurry or engagement. Occasionally a woman is so energetic, so practical, so severe as to look at her watch, and dis continue an interview abruptly, on ac count of tho warning it gives her. Bnt she is regarded by her own sex as un conventional, eccentric,' unaccountable, The majority of them would rather be behind in any number of obligations than be guilty of behavior so disagree able. To be disagreeable, is, in their eyes, the deepest of sins, the most un pardonable of blunders. Quick as women are in thought, rapid as they are in execution, they seluom know how to profit by the brief inter vals between various kinds of work.. They do not have time to avail them selves of bits of time. They are so very busy that they can not think of trifles. Their minds dwell on important labors. They do not wish to begin what they can not finish. Consequently, they lose, nearly every day, an hour or two, composed of dividedminutes which they . have refrained from employing, on •ac count of divislou. Women, too, fre quently lack executive power; they are . inclined to believe that they must do every thing themselves. They talk so .incessantly of having no -time that the Idea grows to be a bugbear,'"and they come finally never to have any time. Many an exemplary husband has be- - come to a degree alienated from his wife by hearing perpetually that she has n6 time. He remembers, before marriage, that sbfe always had time to write him love letters, and he draws his deduction between then and now.— Junius If. Browne, in Ladies’ Home Journal. _________ ■ THE AMERICAN GIRL. Advantages Slio Elroys Over- Her Less Fortunate Sisters of Other Lands- The maidens of other lands have two distinct educations. They are first given the training of the jeunne Jille, which is essentially a knowledge of the world as it is not. This is supposed to last them until they arc married, or are definitely beyond any probability of matrimony, when they take their post graduate course in life as it really is. If life lasted for a thousand years, this arrangement -would be a little less wicked and wastful; but to take out of the brief spap of three-score years and ten the time for two distinct educations, . encourages very little hope for-thor- ouglmess in either. With the American girl, however,' all this is changed. She does riot suffer the humiliation of seeing literature, the drama, and even society itself in ex purgated editions, carefully adopted to the purity—and poverty—of her mental constitution. She is not surrounded on every side by pleasures which she is for bidden to enjoy, or forced to live, move and having her being wholly under the wing of a chaperone. Her delicacy and good sense are taken for granted; and, before she is scarcely in her teens, she begins to regulate her own life in all* tninor matters, taking up her responsi bilities one a t a time as she is able to bear them, instead of leaving them to be assumed in a bunch at the altar. The result of this national method, if any thing so negative can be called a method, has been to produce a singu larly individual and self-reliant sort of young woman, who is a refreshing satire upon all previous ideals of wom anly excellence. She has proved that she can bo feminine without being ig norant; that slie may be a t the same time charming and sensible, and that to be virtuous she need not be a fool. In a vague way she is perfectly conscious that she is nn important factor in a knotty sociological problem, and takes dully delight in proving that a woman’s field of knowledge and action is defined by her own abilities and not by a set of arbitrary rules. Now it happens sometimes that the very quality which is tl\e greatest charm of the America^ girl becothes her chief reproach. Her familiarity with the world and her habit of managing her own affairs have given rise to a sort of manner which her admirers call "poise” and “assurance,” and her de tractors arc very likely to speak of as opinioaed and swaggering. There is a little unreasonableness here on both sides. It is ridiculous for the world t& expect from a young woman brought up almost exactly in the same way as her brother the sort of behavior which the last generation called “maidenly.” g If the modern young woman succeeds in * preserving the deference always becom ing in the attitude of youth toward age, of experience toward inexperience, slie may congratulate herself upcln having done her duty very fairly.—Kate Fields’ Washington. FOR FEMININE READERS. ^ ^ _ * Miss H elen R eei >, literary editor of the Boston Advertiser, arid winner of the Sargent prize for translation of a Homeric ode, has removed to New York and Will write for the World. A i , ai » y engineer has arrived in St, Petersburg from Vladikavkns to view the factories of the great capital. In 1883 she built in her native city an iron and brass foundry and a steam wood sawing and planing mill, and she has ' conducted these institutions up to the present time without any assistance and with g r c |t success. To her also be longs the credit of having introduced among the peasants of the Tcrzkoy dis tricts modern agricultural machines. V kha S assui . itch has been the cause of more alarm to the Czar than all the other Russian anarchists combined.. In her early years, she was a ptetty gov erness in a little country village in Rus sia, and she still possesses traces of beauty. Site is a woman of iron will and stern resolution. At ono time, find ing it impossible to conquer her, the Russian Government is said to have of fered. her a bribe of toh millions of roubles to qu it the cause o f anarchy an d leave the country. —Cl to r pel stove ’ outsitf t h e : they smalll a boilT —Ml prese^ or all gun m add 1 " scdldd quasi — T| that mix'* egg , first brea flat the Budg cnpfu cupfii flour! gradtf milk] {Thei the hi the i f ly* po a i Stir if Coves nigh! luke] stiff ] pot;’ a n d t aad l most] drive canvl shoal may{ arid i is a ] like/ in tld heat! • skinl lay il into f with| off . fine;| egg ’ mas) past wet;l pileif lid would rather b* pr of obligation* svior so disagree- ble, la, in their jins, the most vm* [in thought, rapid ■bn. they selaora the brief Inter kinds of. work, to avail them- | They are up very think of trifles. |mpqrtant labors, segin what they Jsequently, they an hour or two, |nutes which they iploying on ac* [omen, too, fre- J power; they aro | t they must do They talk so [io time that the jbear, "apd they |ave any time, nusband has be- |ienated from his etually that she Inombers, before |ays hod time to and he draws |thcn and now.—. Ladies ’ Home IN GIRL. la Over Her Less- IOllier Lands. ■ lands have two |They are first the jeunne Jille , |nowledge of the is supposed to married, or are probability of [take their post- as it really is. iisand years, this le a little less lit to take out of ■score,years and ftinct educations, hope for thor- lirl, howeyer, all J does, not suffer Ig literature, the Jty itself in ex- folly adopted to -of her m en ta l1 It surrounded on 1which she is for- led to live, move pholly under the ler delicacy and |or granted; and, her teens, she own life in all* [p her responsi-- she is able' to leaving them to at the altar, [ional method, if can be called a Iroduce a singu- llf-reliant sort of a refreshing ideals of wom- jias proved th a t rithout being ig- Ibe a t the same |ible, and tha t to the a fool. In a Jfectly conscious |an t factor in a blem, and takes | tha t a woman’s action is defined tnot by a set of letimes that tho the greatest irl becomes her liliarity with , |i t o f managing . en rise to a sort admirers call b,” and her de- 1to speak of aa Ing. There is a }he re ' on both, lor the world ter jfvoman brought same way as ehavior which d “maidenly.” g aan succeeds in * [always becom- pth toward age, fxperience, she [f upon having -K a te Fields’ ;ADERS. erary editor of lidd winner of Translation of a Id to New York lurid. [arrived in St. avkas to view lit capital, lit |ve city an iron steam wood , and she has [on*t up to the assistance and her also be* ng introduced !Tcrzkoy dis- 1machines. en the cause sr than all the boriihlncd. In pretty gdv- jritlagc in Rus* |w s traces of of iron will bue time, find' |qni>r her, the dd to have of* [u millions of of anarchy 81 4
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