mss Tn — So ———————. —————" Denorra] ata ———————————————————————— EE ——————————————————— Bellefonte, Pa., September 23, 1910. A DENATURED AGE. The horseless cart is everywhere And smokeless powder fills the air; And all the joyous world doth laugh Because we've wireless telegraph. The noiseless gun is now the thing And voiceless tenors often sing; And politicians void of jobs Are filling all the world with sobs. We've lots of cashless millionaires, And seedless apples, dates and pears; And there be those who say that kings Once fruitful now are fruitless things. ‘The world is full of angels high Who, wingless, yet can nobly fly, And here and there is one that says Somewhere are airless heiresses. Perhaps some day, and maybe soon, They will invent a rayless moon In which fond swains may bask at night Completely hid from mortal sight. A gasless gas-bill too, they say. Wili shortly set out on its way, And poets, maybe, will rehearse ! Their measures in a verseless verse. I've walked on many a footless quest And booted many a bootless guest. Our wits divulge in jokeless jokes Convulsing us with chokeless chokes: And we are meeting all the while Folks brimming o'er with guileless guile— But no one, to my great regret, Yet makes a smokeless cigarette. A thornless cactus now is made. I've heard of an unjaded jade Who'd talk all night and scold all day. Yet nothing in the end would say. A speechless speaker is a sight That fills his hearers with delight, Especially when one we find Who's of the after-dinner kind. We've painless dentists by the score, And Bernard is a shoreless Shaw. We've needless needs, and needless ends, And sometimes find we've friendless friends There's much that’s artless in the arts, And maids there be with heartless hearts— And we shall have not far anon A Theodoreless Washington. Now in the blessed name of Peace When will these strange inventions cease ? —Carlysle Smith. BEWITCHING PICK. THE OF HENRY Henry Pick arrived from Dubuque, Towa, on the China to take the position of Surveyor of the Customs in Honolulu. He brought with him a letter of introduc- tion from his uncle, the Senator, three trunks, and the orthodoxy of the college uate who believes that lifeisa y local affair which you can visit view or abstain from at will. He was promi- nent in the smo -room of the steamer, the purser for opinions on white man's burden. Henry now before his house up Queen's Road stares into ust behind him yo! may the form of a dark wom- takes his hand and murmurs, “Aloha ino @!” (“lI am sony for you!”) is is the story of how Henry Pick, Surveyor of the Customs at Honolulu at one time, became the blind man under the Back in Dubuque they wonder why doesn’t write. When Henry had been installed at his desk in the Custom House and had dined with his chief, the Collector, he proceed- ed per pake (hack) up Emma Street and down School Street into the big yard of a highly recommended hg house. “You'll find it pretty fair,” said Col- lector. “And if I were you, I'd keep clear of the natives.” “Sure,” said Henry. “You don’t sup- pose Td be chasing around with a lot of 0 you ” * aren't—Oh, well, I'd keep clear of them if I were you,” the Collector said, with a faint smile. When Henry was he turned back to his desk and his Het do “] vores [be wrote] wi e government stop sending Youllp fools down here because have a pull. The latest specimen the Hawaiians are negroes. I su he'll find wisdom after a while, butI'm sick of breaking in new men all thetimeand then acting as guardian for them.” For two weeks H was very busy. He learned that the of surveyor is not a sinecure, and he gained some re- spect for the native clerks, who saved him from utter disgrace twice. Then he shut up his desk one afternoon, went to his room, dressed, and drove to dinner at the house of a territorial official who lived out on Lunalilo Street. Here he found a large party of dull men and rather sleepy wom- en, who were very anxious to hear his news from the coast. He explained three times that he came from Dubuque, Iowa, before he realized that they didn't distin- guish that from the “coast,” which is a term for the whole United States of Amer- ica. Then a tall, fair-haired girl, with fine, dark eyes, was introduced to him as Ethel Hitzrote,and presently he found him- self sitting next to her at table. Miss Hitzrote first to his liki for beauty. She wasq attentive to what said, and smiled now and then . Having been to neither of these ties, he was impressed. After dinner he sat with her under the trees, and when ih g : : i i ij 5 $ I ® =, 2 » g 38° id i Fist I J 8 E | : £ 7 siEITgEEaEE fil i : i 2 J eh? boy? Now about this silk—" enry Pick went back to his own office, shut the door, and stared at the wall. bea breast. . ii gE g 4 : SF g fe fl i her girl associates. When he sat in the sitting-room and ate little cakes, of nights, while Mabel sat across from him and sewed, Henry really enjoyed himself fora moment. It was so much like home. But after he had left the stuffy lighted room and the perfumed Hawaiian night closed in about him with its small, pretty sounds, he thought of Ethel Hitzrote. As a matter of fact, Henry was playi the cur, and from what we would have firmed were fine motives, too. He had been taught that people with “native” blood in r veins were and he had very lofty notions about purity of race and what a gentleman must do. Thus it came that Ethel’s little note asking why he hadn't come to dinner remained unan- swered, and he cut her father at the very door of the Custom House in an endeavor to “put the in his place,” as he vaguely ph it. It took him some time to realize that his friendly clerks had become distinctly rude, though not so boldly that he could find fault; no more leis hung on his desk; his routine work doubled on his hands for no good reason. He didn’t understand it, merely charging it to “inefficient native help.” It was a month since he had seen Ethel, and he was, he hoped, losing his first sore- ness of heart. But while he and Mabel tenes to the band in the Pr uare one standing y apart from the m smiling, crowd of natives, he suddenly saw her and his soul poured out of his breast like water. She came slowly toward him, followed by a little maid. Her dark eyes swept scorn- fully over his companion, met his own fe a and then were turned away. Unwilingly he lifted hishat. Mabel took she said in her thin voice. “Ididn’t know you were friends with any natives.” “I met her somewhere at dinner,” he murmured. a EE ol a ae. yo e looks of young wahines,” she remarked. “When they get old they get fat. Her mother was a prin- cess or or something horrible. They're heathen, anyway.” Henry sighed and they turned toward Mabel’s home. That night he went to his little room in School Street and sat down miserably to the study table with a book under his nose. The mosquitoes whirred about him. Far away a guitar thrummed steadily, dashed now an n by the re- sonant throb of a drum. e stifling air bore the scent of maile and the spicy breath of palms. The print blurred be- fore his eyes and his pulse rang in his temples. He drove out of the close room into the open, and half an hour later in front of the little hedge that the Br rE ty on. t at step stood before him. “Why have you been so rude,” she asked, gently. He stammered to the dim outline of her ugh in the darkness. “I'm sorry,” he managed to say. “You never sent your regrets to ma for not coming to dinner that night and you haven't called, and papa says you didn’t speak to him the other day. Why? Choked with love of her and horribly sure that such love was unclean and for- bidden, he took refuge in brutality. “Be- cause—I didn't know—I didn’t know till the other day that you were a native. I'm an American official, and of course I can't be mixed up with—a fellow mustn't withdrawing into profounder shadow. “I didn't mean—"he called out but she : | She didn’t arm. “That's that Ethel Hitzrote,” | The 06 fli i i : 7h § 4 gs § 5 § HE i 8 g | | | { | : 2 : 5 25 EE BE ir g 2 § 8 i : i : w : 8 Bis Ef li Ez Ii 1 : ; ; : i : f : : : : | Henry's while. Pierce looked curiously at Henry and motioned to him that it was time to | As they walked to the car line Henry did the old woman give it to me? old negress say?” told you Hawaiians were negroes?” the newspaper man inquired. sharply. . i “Why, they are!” Henry replied. “What does did the old crone sa i” Pierce looked at his companion with an odd expression, lost in the half light of the moon. “She said, ‘Ke ea mai nei SOming oves or something like that. She ‘Ethel’ sent that le/, whoever ‘Ethel’ is. If I were you, my son, I'd not monkey around this country too much or too long. Youaren't exactly the sort that | Collector allowed Henry three down here and Kea is a bad | leave of absence. gets al enemy. 's a witch.” Pick laughed carelessly. “I do think sometimes that all you people are crazy. You persist in thinking these Hawaiians are somebody, and you actually assert now that fat old creature isa witch. Wake 38, Fierce Wake up! This is the United Statesand we're white. Wake up! Quit dreaming!" He laughed loud and 1 Ey writ tou tats for tie last car aid set themselves to walk in to the city. Pierce plodded silently on, y glancing at the sea spreading in flowing below them; his companion, who walked rapidly and easily, pring lia chin into the odorous freshness of the wreath about his neck. They reached the crest of the hill, view- ing far down the lights of Waikiki. They plunged down the dusty road and into the lower valley, where Paloio streams out its mist perfume from the fertile heights. As they turned, with a winding of path, into a dense shadow, Henry clicki with eyes the direction of his out- 2% glancing at | i which she threw over, Merry stepped muttering a sentence the him, holding out a book. | i i i i | fools who should never leave the States? | i i ke | say to keep away from him. ohu,’ which means in English something ' insane? Is he dangerous? to the effect that the mist is coming up, | Plague) e | Henry sank down in the chair : “I see only you inside of The wall is blue and my inside a blue haze, doctor.” he demanded in his seat. What do you see?" Hen Dr. Merry turned on me with frowning “There is nothing I can do,” he said. “Will you please take him away?" Protest was useless. Merry wouldn't ve anything to any one else. | touch Henry with a pole, and when I had | t the poor devil into his room and come he still refused to explain. “I have just one thing to say,” he remarked, brusquely, “Keep away from him! Why the government persist insending us Good day!" I insisted on one more question. “You Is the man Has he the rry scowled at me. “He's as as you and I. He is perfectly healthy. Good day!” That was all I could make of it. The months’ I consulted Pierce about what was to be done to help Pick and I learned what that old newspaper man thought of it. “Its some kahuna,” said he, with a sour smile. He went on | on the porch at % feidte wii had happened & the jutla. ‘ou know s proud vengeful, and she hates whites. She mentioned at the time a girl's name: Ethel, I think it was. | wash my hands of Henry Pick. If | out a shaki ghile it's your place to butt in, find or my part, I've been wag enough in the islands to keep clear of this. man's kapu (tabee), and neither you nor I can tell the ins and outs of it. Hen has offended the great gods of Hawaii. One thing more, my dear fellow: don't go too close to Henry! Kea's magic reaches | H far sometimes!” I stayed away till Henry came and found me, his eyes starting out of his head and his legs shaking under him. But he was quite calm. “I'm going crazy, he announced, slowly. “I haven't seen anything but in a blue cloud for two | were looking weeks now. You are violet-gray this then things clutched his companion’s_arm, his voice minute. Everything is, except the trees, | thi in his throat. Pierce followed and they—" “How about the trees?” stretched arm and saw nothing. “What | inquire. do you see, you fool?” he demanded. enry back. road," he said in a curiously dry tone. “It's waving blue arms very slowly at us.” How Pierce got Henry into the city he has never satisfactorily lained. man saw things awhile, then he would hurry along like a man who jumps from a moving car and has to run to keep his balance. Tren he would stop,” he told us, “It a red—this phantom—now on one hand and now on the other, so far as I could make out. He said it was a different thing each time. When I finally got him to Punohou he was a rag. His hat was gone, his shoes fallen off, and the withered lei was like a wilted collar at his throat. He seemed to be doing better. But I him, screech- ing, past Kawaiahoa churchyard. Natur- I put him to bed. He was perfectly Pierce told this long afterward. All that we, Pick's acquaintances, knew at first was that Henry was afraid of the dark. At sundown he would 5 to his room on School Street, light the lamp, and sit there till teno'clock. Then if one of us wasn't there to talk to him he'd into bed—leaving the lamp burning. lasted a month. Then Heney got up from his desk one morning and to walk through a closed door. His clerks wouldn't touch him and the Collector took him home. He stared all the way like a man in a fit, and when he was hauled into his room he sat down on the of a chair and covered his eyes with his hand. We didn’t get much out of him apart Eom ihe Shalume, many ge repeat- “Something is with my eyes.” Collector oy this awhile and then said: e best thing to dois to go and see Merry. He's as good an oculist Rl as there is anywhere. on nerves, too.” Henry leaped at the and I agreed to go with him. At own sug- gestion I tightly bandaged his eyes and | her. led kim to the doctor's office. Once in the examining room, Henry grew cheer- ful and voluble indeed when Merry took the bandage off and asked for symptoms. “I've noticed this for nearly a month,” “But it was only at night at first. I saw strange, floating, thin bodies like cloudy men, I didn’t see them all the time, only sometimes. They didn’ follow me; I just came on ac- cident, you know. But gradually I've been getting to see a cloud before my eyes in the daylight, and now"—Henry’s Yojce Toe o “1 see you Si ue misty, almost transparent. You are hu the. i of a Muish gray cloud wi ight specks in it. Everything in the room is almost transparent. It's my eyes, doctor!” Merry coughed gently and stood a little I pas to do the same. “How have you been in Honolulu—in Hawaii?" the doctor asked, quietly, of Henry. Henry -told him and Merry shook his head. “Will you to look to the right and tell me is in the doorway?” he suggested, with calmness. amazement, Henry Pick turned ey his obediently, fixed his eyes on the closed door, and said: “There's a lady there, doctor. I thought we were “It is the nurse,” the doctor replied. “Don’t bother about her. Can you dis- tinguish colors?” Henry adecided negative. “Every- thing ie blue!” he wailed, breaking into a “Look here!" came the oculist’s sharp voice. “Brace up! Please look at me and fix your attentionon me. Tell me what you see." Henry steadied himself and peered at the specialist. I could see his focus and waver, focus and Tor ony he got to his walked over to Merry with a plain expression of anxiety. “The | 1 | Hitzrote “The “The ends of the branches have little candles on them, but the wind doesn’t blow them.” He walked over to me and laid a finger on my |. chest. “Something dark and is fluttering in there,” he went on, tremb- lingly. “Everybody has something that flutters there—flutters like a big moth— inside their breast. But sometimes I see people who have no fluttering in their | t—no Auseringéds doesn’t flutter—" | He slipped to the less. He came to wildly, but grew quiet. I ventured to ask him a question. “Who is Ethel?" “Ethel Hitzrote? Don’t you know her?” “The old general's daughter?” “Yes. [fell in love with her. She nearly had me fooled. It was only by ac- cident that I found out she had negro blood in her,” he answered. “But she has no negro blood!” I re- torted, angrily. “She is half white and half noble Hawaiian!” “It’s all the same,” he responded, stub- bornly. “She thought I would marry her, but back in Iowa we call black \black.” The fatuity of the fellow! I knew Ethel tly. No girl in all Honolulu held a higher head. I took pains to tell Pick just what an incredible ass he was. He repelled my reproof wearily. “I know how you fellows look on it down here," he kept saying. “But—it won't pass with m e. 1 ought to have let him alone, of course. But they say every man has one friend; two friends, if he'sa fool. So I played the friend to this crassly ignorant, mule- headed, bewitched Iowan, who was dwel- ling in a cloudy hell because he had of- TO I Hy a to son of the princess-born, - ished Ethel. I went and called on Miss Hitzrote that evening. When the chance showed itself I brought up the subject of Henry Pick. "The man is dying,” I told oor limp and sense- When I called his name she merely looked at me, calm princess that she was. When I blurted out “dying” a faint pallor showed in her face. “Is he sick?" I made a straight tale of it. pay to lie toany woman who has the one- ten-thousandth of a drop of Hawaiian blood«in her heart. Kea, the hula, the ¥ dances, fe bite clouds, He lei— they all passed through my story. I even mentioned that Pick thought Hawaiians to be negroes. She listened, slim and fair in the dusk of the lanai. When I had finished she said, gently: “And Mabel Smith. Is she with him?” “She is not,” I replied. Ethel breathed out a sigh and picked up her guitar and sang a Maui song full of little sobs and trills and caresses. When she had done I took all my boldness in two hands and said direct, “Will you save him?" She shot me a bit of flame from her eyes > the shadow. “He has of- fended all Hawaii, your government of- ficial,” she said. “And Kea hates him for it. I am a princess, you know, and not to be scorned. Kea has done this and— and”—she whispered across to ‘'me—*T'm afraid of Kea myself!” She her hands maidenly. “He insulted me! he told me he loved me!" I stuck to my question; “Will you save | i him?" She rose gracefully to her feet. “I will try on one condition,” she said, , “Let him go to Mabel Smith look white beauty. Then let | sight myself—this pow- got up to leave him. distance away, I told had said. “You evident- ly made love to her, a and sensi- woman,” I told him. “Then you get your wooden pate that she is a na- tive, and therefore to be despised by such his head gloomily. “It | seems, from what Merry that it's a ‘low sort of clairvoyance t on | the stimulation of certain finer physical | elements of the body. If you very close to one who has it you're likely to : develop it yourself. Of course that old | witch Kea was teaching the impudent | white man a lesson in revenge for Hen. ! as you. You've offended Hawaii by this | ry’s asinine insult to Ethel and her fath- are blue. Thewhole world is hud- | insult to their princess. Kea is a i { i | | | i ," | solitude. Even when I was in m the gods in this way. Now I asked Bile abruptly in front of el if she would save you and she said, | Henry Pick is blind. Isn't that en “How's that? | ‘Tell him to go and see Mabel Smith."” He turned his head and nodded. "I ry “I see | haven't been able to get up my nerve to | right—through it dimly,” he whispered. | call on Mabel. Tomorrow I will. Mabel | ored hair done in the latest style, her is a nice girl.” Under the starlight I saw the profound loneliness of the man ap- like breath on a window-pane; I ew that his heart leaped to think that bly Mabel could exorcise his demon. from the very depths of his rude nature a word burst up; “Why did I fall in love with Ethel? I wish to God she was white!” . For two weeks I saw no more of Hen- SRS Randa od ese you! at my and handed me a scrawled note which read under the electric lightin the hall. It was apparently written by an illiterate | child and was simply an address—117 Ki- sane | Lane. nau “Who wants me?” 1 demanded. “Pika,” the lad said, succintly. He of- guide me to the house, which, nana-palms. the top of light of the moon One look at his told fie the | "y . He ing my got hand. “ | come,” he got some acid inl acid. He went on calmly. “It got too bad toward the last. I couldn't get any room 1 saw through the walls, just as ugh I a blue mist, and blue misty He was tri- ro! So I stopped it!" | wp te ' I managed to | as there anything to say? I thought | ." | ers. As the world moved, ng | er and the natives generally. But—hang lit all! Idon't know anything about A But as] go by the house on Queen's vad and see H sitting under the traveller- ! palm and Ethel near him, her straw col- , face blooms with love and—I see but a little way into the mystery. I know that ! he loves her; and I that she loves ‘ him and grieves bitterly that she was too | late to save him from the wrath of Kea. Yet the solidest fact is that once in a | while Henry leans forward with a dry, | choking sob—the dumb cry of the man | who cannot see what he most desires to envision. At such times Ethel's face is | dark with profound pain. She puts out (her gentle hand and whispers, “Aloha 1 iuo oe!” { And from the look on her husband's | face when he hears this soft murmur I ! don't believe Dubuque, Iowa, will see Henry again. For he is under a stronger Kea the ilson, in | spell than any ever woven sorceress.—By John Fleming | Harper's Weekly. The House of Studebaker. sturdy, thrifty Hollanders have the itors of many men fore- today tn the ranks of American ptains of Industry. Thomas Dreier and ¢ story in Hu- Life for September of the founders of industrial enterprise known in in the land—the House of er. | | in the eighteenth century it was | the first Studebaker set sail from the {land of canals and windmills for the | shores of America, and as far back as i -build- ‘Studebak- | ers kept, if anything, a step or two in ad- | vance of the march of progress, and there- proved their right to be considered ins of Industry. ohn Studebaker, the best wagon-build- er and blacksmith in his community in the early part of the last century, may | be consi the corner-stone of the | present great house that bears his name. The heritage he left his sons was those bed-rock qualities of honesty, industry, and progressivenss-mighty levers HE Aw ! i : i g courage ' of nothing. Henry talked peacefully on. | in the hands of modern world-movers of i | it doesn’t | ed, I've been here a week, sleeping. It's great fun sleeping. . . . I've been mistaken about some things. . I'll stay here. I it: . He smiled. "Did it never leave you, this cloud?" “Once. I saw Ethel," he said. Not another word was spoken for a while. But he Fiesty continued. "I had gone to see Mabel Smith. 1 Secely looked at her and ran.” He shuddered. “1 saw—I saw her—her skull. Something fluttered in the cage of her breast. Iran away without speaking. Then I saw Ethel. I met her on the street. She looked just as she always did—the only red gown and her hair was—" He gent- ly pondered the vision. He went on: “But she passed by and I saw the fog settle down again, So I stopped it.” His voice died in his throat and he strained forward intently. I myself heard the Swesh of 3 Sicirt on the gluse. The huge of the banana- moved apart and a woman st out. I rose and lifted my hat to Ethel Hitzrote. Her eyes were wide with terror and she gaz- ed at Henry, ignoring me. AE great sigh came from breast and she cried, softly, "Henry! Henry!" Pick stumbled to his feet. “Ethel!” he called. “Ethei!” For a long moment she stood there, her little hands clutched into the bosom of her light poised like a bird for flight. queeniiness of her blood shone out of her like a fire. 1 saw that she was drawn asunder by pride and love. Pity strove in her heart with sense of in- jury and insult. The sightless man on the precarious steps t the darkness with scarred eyes. enly his voice broke from him in a hoarse cry. "I'm blind, Ethel! I'll never see you again!” She threw out her arms and went to him sobibing)y. calling out low names of 1 went away. The next morning I met Merry and Pierce together. They stopped me and looked from one to the other. "Did you hear about Henry Pick?” Pierce inquir- awkward] y. “He ed his t with acid,” Isaid. “I him and Ethel Hitzrote to- gether last night. She came to see him.” “Quite true,” Pierce answered. “Miss Hitzrote came to see Dr. Merry this morn- ing. She thought maybe she could fixup his eyes. Pierce a ond stared up the street at nothing. The oculist finished for him. “The sight is gone for good,” he said, firmly. My wrath boiled over. “I you think it’s all his own fault,” I with bitterness. poor fool thing, and you white men, who know dark ways, let him go to hell without hindrance. I call it a cheap trick. What was the matter with his eyes, anyway? Why didn’t you treat them! erry flushed. “I'll leave you,” he said, crossly. “I've done what I can.” When he was gone Pierce stared at me and laughed. enry’s head over heels in girl, and always was | imag- with him. Says she'll defied old I I've got rid of the kahnna. . . .| are rimmed with bluish flame,” ' “I hired a room out here out of the way. | invention and business. “It's crossing the | he said, carefully. | The inventors of the telegraph, the | telephone, the submarine cable, and the | various machines that minister to the | needs of mankind are as truly and as | grandly missionaries to the race as those | who give their lives to enlightening the | nations that sit in darkness. The inven- | tors, the manufzcturers and the distribu- | tors of the commodities of the world are | instruments of Destiny to bring mankind ' cléser together, and the story of the rise | of this great commercial House of Stude- | baker, and of its founders and builders, | is fuller of romance and live human in- | terest than anything the novelist’s pen , may attempt.—Human Life Publishing living thing in a blue world, She wore a | Co., Boston. Given Away. Dr. R. V. Pierce, authcr of the People’s | Common Sense Medical Adviser, offers ! this valuable work as a gift to those who will pay the expense of mailing. This great medical work contains 1008 Pages, and over 700 illustrations, and is full of the common sense of a wide medical ex- perience. It answers the unspoken ques- | tions of young men and maidens. It meets | the emergencies of the family with plain practical advice. Itis a book for every man and every woman to read and keep at hand for reference. Its medical infor- mation alone may save many a costly doctor's bill. This bcok will be sent to you free on receipt of stamps to defray expense of mailing onlv. Send 21 one-cent stamps for paper covered book, or 31 stamps tor cloth bound. Address Dr. R, V. Pierce, 663 Main Street, Buffalo, N. Y, Horses as Meat. According to information received at the State Department at Washington, D. D., Englishmen have put over a commer- cial trick over the inhabitants of the oth- er countries of northern Europe. And it was done by using the American export- ers as the best means of making the trick Some time ago the reports were circu- lated in Europe that horse meat was be- ing shi to them from the United States. fiejud cing American meat shipments. pon instructions from the State - ment the consuls at Hull and New Castle made a investigation and re- ported that no horse meat was being re- ceived from the United States, but, on the contrary, exporters at Hull and New Cas- tle were shipping live worn out English horses to several continental ports, pan. cipally Antwerp, where they had been sold tor food under the strict regulations of the Belgium Government. You must have a foundation before you the can build ahouse. You must have a foun- dation before you can build up your health. The foundation of health is pure blood. De a i is like ua by beginning at the chim- the foundation. Make % physicians. those who have covery. Large sailor collars are ied to man fhe new oat, and thes wil bem absolutely despaired of re- and pretty for a 20 progy Sra aul, skirt are concerned. ——Subscribe for the WATCHMAN,
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