SOLITUDE. Laugh, and the werld laughs with you, * Weep, and you weep alone: For the sad old Farth must borrow mirth, But has trouble enough of its own, Sing, and the hills will answer; Sigh—it is lost on the air: The echoes bound to a joyful sound, But are slow to voles your care. ita Rejoice, and men will seck you; Grieve, and they turn and go: They want fall measure of all your pleas. ure, But they do not need your wo. Be glad, and your friends are many; Be sad, and you lose them all: There are tone to decline your nectared wine, out alone you must drink Life's gall, Feast, and your halls are crowded; Fast, and the world goes by: Succeed and give and it helps you live, But no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of Pleasure For a lazge and lordly train; fut one by one we must all file on i bro’ the narrow aisles of Pain, PROMISES AT RANDOM, In a small but thriving village in New York lives a man by the name of Albert Brown. At the age of fourand twenty Le. took to himself a wife; and three years afterwards he opened a shop on his own account. He was a tin- worker by trade, and his work gave the utmost satisfaction. He had bought out the shop and interest of a man who had moyed away, so he had a run of business already on his hands, For a while all want on well; he had so much as be wished to do; his patrons were prompt in their payments, and his prospects were bright, His dwelling adjoined the shop, so that he was always convenient to his place of business. Bat at length there began to be mur- murings among the customers. **Albert,” said his wife one evening as he came in from the post-office, “Mr Cummings has been here after Jie funnel you promised to make for im, ”? *Ah, has he?” returned the young man looking up from the paper that he had just opened. “Yes, and seemed quite anxious about it, for the weather is cold, and his family are unable to use their sitting room just for want of that funnel.” “Well, I must make 1t to-morrow.” “Buf you know you have promised to bave Mr. Moore's cook-stove ready to-morrow, and you have all the funnel to make for that, besides a boiler and a tea-kettle,” “Yes, I znow that; but Moore’ll have to wait. I must make that funnel for Cummings.” For some time Alice Brown sat in silence, Der face revealed a troubled mind, and her hand moved tremulously over the silken hair of her infant, ‘‘Albert,” she said at length, “you will pardon me, I know, for what I am now going to say.” She trembled as she spoke, not being used to reprimand- ing her husband. She was a mild, modest, little woman, and severity of language was something she cculd not use, unless, deed, it may have been once in a while to her little son, who often tried her patience, *Go ahead, Alice,” returned young man, with a faint smile. “I must speak, Albert, for I am sure you do not realize how you are injuring vourself. You do not realize, I fear, how often you aisappoint your custom- ers, Now, I heard Mr. Cammings say he had better have sent to the city at once and then he should have got his funnel in some kind of season.” “Then why didn’t he send? asked him for his custom. ”’ “Ah, Albert, you do not mean what you fay. You have asked for his custom. You have asked for the custom of all the people in town: and not only so, but in your advertisement you promise to do your work with promptness and despatch. Now listen to me calmly, for surely I am anxious only for your good. You have often promised people certain things at a given time, and you know how often you have disappointed thenr. Now why Is it not just as easy to have your promises and performances agree as to have them so often at fault? When Mr. Cummings came for his funnel, why could you not have made up your mind just when you could do the work, and then do it at all hazards? Of course, sickness is always a reasonable excuse.” “But vou do not understand these things, Alice,” said the husband mm an explanatory manner. **When I have $0 much work on my hands, it is im- possible always to tell just when such . and such things can be done. 1 do them all assoon as I can.” “And yet, Albert. you disappoint your custoiners, Now just reflect a moment. You do all the work you have, but the trouble is you do not do it at the time promised. Now, for instance, when Cummings came for his funnel he asked you if he could not bave it by the pext day at noon. Instead of carefully considering what you had on your hands, and answering accordingly, you gimply wished to please him for the time being, and told him be should have il a8 he wished, But when he came for it, it was not done, and thoughtlessly you told him he could have it by night. This evening he called in, and again he 18 disap- pointed, His wife is now fretting, and he 1s angry; and he has good cause foi it. Ana now look atto-morrow; if you make ‘his funnel to-morrow, you must _ disappoint Moore, for his js an all day's job, most surely; and you know how particula he is.” “0, I know what you mean, Alice but 1'should like to have you take hold and try. You'd find and doing two Siffotens wi im ih 5." “Perhaps , Al but yet 14 Hake Sten both i he ond. en promised Mr, Cummin his funnel I would have done it. Last night I would have called to mind all the work I had on hand, and if I had been sure that I could turn it off as omised withont working in the even ng, I would Jive shells the Svein a - the house; but it appeared wise, 1 would have worked till midnight if need be, Erel wonld break a busi. uess promise I would work all night the I never while my health and strength lasted. But there would be no need of this Keep a book, and init putall your work engaged, with the time at which it is promised, and then go at it. If a man wants such a thing at a given time, just refer to the work on hand, and if you find you can reach it without disappoint. ing others, then promise him; but if you cannot do so, then tell him so plain. ly, and also when you can do it. Be sure no sensible man will find fault with this, Let people see that you will be prompt and reliable, and you need not fear of losing custom; but if things go on in this way much longer, you must lose money, it cannot be otherwise,” Albert Brown tried to laugh, but it was rather a ghastly performance. His wife had spoken the truth and he knew 1t, but he made no premises, for he did not feel exactly like owning up to the error. Mr, Cummings was a good customer, and on the next morning Brown made his funnel. ft took him until after ten o'clock to do it, and then he went to work upon the things for Moore. After dinner Cummings came in and got his funnel, but he was not so thankful to ii it done as Albert hoped his would he, Just at dusk Mr. Moore came in. He had a heavy wagon with him, for the purpose of taking his stove away; but the boiler and tea-kettle were not done, “1 declare,” said Brown, “I haven't your job done yet.”’ “But how's that? You promised me that I should have them to-night without fail.” “1 know--but I had a funnel to make for Cummings, and it put me back.” “But you should not have engaged other work until mine was done,” “But I had this engaged before I had yours,” “Then you might have calculated upon that and not promised me as you did. Had you set to-morrow night as the time for me, 1 should not have left my work at a busy period, and ridden seven miles from home for nothing.” **1 am sorry, Mr, Moore; but really I could not help it.” **Perhaps you could not, * said Moore, with dubious shake of the head, “but you remember you bothered me in the same way last spring about my milk pans, 1 came twice for those before I got them.” Poor Albert felt ashamed, and he stammerea out some apology. “Now, I'll tell you the truth,” sumed Moore, rather severely, just now very busy, and have several hands engaged to work for me, so I cannot leave them again, If you will finish these things and send them up to me to-morrow, I should like it, other- wise I shall not want them.” Brown promised to send them up, and Mr, Moore took husleave. But the young tinman was pot cured of his fault. Things went on as before, and Mrs. Brown was obliged to hear much complaint, The winter passed away, and in the spring another tin shop was opened in the village. A young man named Ames came to the place and sought the patronage of the inhabit- ants. Within a month after this Albert Brown found himself almost without a customer. To be sure he could make up any quantity of tinware for peddlers, but this was not to his taste. The most profitable branch of bis business was gone, for all hisold customers now flock - ed to Ames, where their orders were promptly filled, res jrown to his wife as they arose from the supper table, not compiain of your customers.” “1 don’t—but why shou'd come here?” *‘He was asked {o come here, Albert. You know the people had become tired of wailing your motions. And there is Mansfield, the tailor; he obliged to go without customers.” *“I noticed that Mansfield’s shop was shut up as I came by,” said Albert thoughtfully, wife. “I heard some time ago that the people would not put up with his negligence much longer, Ie is a good tailor, but no one could depend upon him.” For some moments Albert sat in silence and gazed into the fire, At length, while a sad expression rested on his eountenance, he said: **Alice, 1 cannot deny that I have lost all through my own fault, I remember what you have often said to me, and how you have warned me of this; and I know that all this conld have been avoided had I but listened to you. But it’s too late now.”’ No, no, Albert! not too late.” uttered Alice moving to her husband’s side and putting her arms about his neck, ‘‘you ean yet work on.” “But not here We must give up this snug little house and move to some strange place.” “Well, "twere betler so than to live without business here.”’ “And could you be contented to give up this pretty house Alice?” “*I shall be contented wherever your own good calls you, my husband.” shortly afterward be went out. As he passed down the street he saw alight in the shop which Mr. Ames occupied, and he went in. A friendly greeting ensued, and after some common place conversation, Brown asked Ames how he prospered. **Q, very well, replied Ames, “Iam doing very well, yet 1 ean do better, My brother has sent me an offer to come to Liew, and go into business with him. I was intending to call on youto- morrow to see if 1 could not make a trade with you. If I can sell out my heavy stock without loss I shall move, for my brother needs me, and the place will be far better for mie than this What say you now? If you will buy my stoves and manufactured ware at whole- sale pices, you can have them, and I am “How much will they come to?" asked Albert, anxiously, “The whole that 1 must sell will come to about three hundred dollars not any over that.” “I'll give you an answer to-morrow my’! Albert returned, Tis was satisfactory, and after some further conversation the latter left and returned home, Heo told his wife how the caso stood, and she at once advised him to make the purchase, “We can raise the money,” she said, “and I suppose everything he has will sell,” On the next day Albert accepted Ames’ offer, and as soon as a list of the goods was made out he pald the money over, and ere long he had the field once more to himself. He issued a new advertisement, and after enumeratin the articles he had for sale, he addec these significant words, “Try me.” And now Albert Brown commenced anew. He took a book and set down every order as it came in, and noted the time set for its completion. He now made no promises without refer- ring to his book, and the consequence was that he never failed to meet his engagements, and yet how simple it was, Aye, and how much easier than the old method. How smoothly all went now. His work was more than before in quantity, and yet he completed it more easily than before. The result was soon apparent. Customers flocked in upon him; his old friends returned and within s year he was the most thriving mechanic in town. People from adjoining places heard of his promptness and faithful. ness, and they came to employ him, Surely he never regretted the short so- journ of another tinman inthe village, nor did he ever fail to bless his wile, as each returning season found his coffers gradually but surely growing full, And so it must always be in all the departinents of business life. Try it, ye who need and see, bute es ———————— As to Saafl, “There's just as much saufl sold to- tobacconist in Chicago the other day. “Its use, though, is principally restric- ted to the Germans, Bohemians, Irish and English, with a considerable per centage of the old-fashioned Americans thrown in. The working classes are those thal use snuff, it being an eco- nomical way of indulging in the nico- tine habit, and at the same time does not hinder the snuffer in his work Women, too, are habitues of the fra- Of the females of this gene- ration only a certain class use snuff, they either chew 1t, using the Scotch variety, which they conceal be- tween their upper teeth and lip, or mix it with a lather of white castile soap and rub their gums with this compound placed on a tooth brush. “*in point of price, snuff ranges from between 60 cents and $1.50 per pound. Lake, Germany. The Germans and Bohemisnsuse almost exclusively rap- pee and Lotzbeck, being very pungent in odor, and almost black in eolor, something like perique smoking tobacco, Maccaboy is brown in shade, and is used by the English. The Irish take to ‘high trast,’ as dry and fine as powder, and of a bright yellow hue, while the Seoteh, of a very light yellow, is con- sumed by the Scotch, Welsh and Amer- cans.” *“*Are your customers discriminating when they purchase snuff?” was asked, *Very much so. You can't deceive an okl suuffer. Once he'gets the snull inte his nostrils he knows exactly what it is, and, if good, bad, or indifferent. For certain eye troubles snuff is remember a woman she is old at the present time, EYER, remedy her weak eyes, and she told me it cured her complciely. Generally luxury which only adult and mostly 1 think about ope to fifteen. There is one thing about it I shouldn't like, to be obliged to help mn the making of snuff, A person unaccustomed to it can bardly breathe ina snuff factory, so pungent anda strong is the odor, Of course it's unbealthy, because one cannot help taking a good deal of the zine powder into the lungs and system, and that is bad for the health and bad for the di- gestion,” A ————— Doesnt 117 A writer from Rochester, N. Y., says:—I called recently on a bride of a few months early one merning and found her pouring the breakfast coffee for her husband. She was fairly sub. merged in the foamy billows of a sea green robe, and on her head was a cap of more intricate construction than | could clearly describe in half a column, After she had kissed her spouse good- by for the day and we were alone in her boudoir she threw off the elaborate gown for a plain one, **Good heavens mel” 1 said; “is it possible that you achieve such a careful toilet simply for your hus- band?" “Safe to bet on it,” was the reply. “You mean to marry some time? ‘Well, take my advice. When you have onee taken a husband, keep him. Don't let the charm of fascination be broken through your own carelessness. The greatest danger, don’t you see, is that the sameness of one wife, right along, will tive him of you. Now, you can't effect any actual cha in yourself. Whatever novelty person you present must be extraneous, lsn’t that it 18.7’ ell, I came to the conclusion that he times show myselt in new aspects to my hubby was in the morning, I have made it a point to a great number of toilets to appear him in at breakfast. That captures him anew every morning, makes me think about him all day him back to me at night an I quote this advice for what worth, Anyhow, it seems doesn’t it? “Allah, Allah!’ The Holy City of Kairwan is the Mecoas of the State of Tunis, and in- deed, of Northern Africa. It lies about eighty miles south of Tunis, and gome twenty miles inland from the sea, On entering the town I saw a drove of camels coming over the desert, led by their keepers, On the other side ap- peared a woman riding on an ase, and robed in a mantle of deep dark blue, which was folded over her head and round an infant in her arms. A man walked by her side with a staff to which a gourd was attached, The sun was descending behind them, and its Leaws lit up their figures as they turned away into the wilderness. A little fur- ther on, near a solitary palin tree, a man was riding a camel, with a worn woman slowly trailing on foot behind him. At a sign the camel stopped, and the man, dismounting, lay under the tree, and pent the weary woman far into the distance for water. It is here that the Barber of the Prophet Mohan med is buried, who possessed the ruost precious clippings from his beard— three Lairs of which now remain. The town is not interesting, cousisting of houses built of small bricks, partly covered in patches with dilapidated plaster. The roofs are flat, and one can walk from one to another almost ever the town. The town is surrounded by a thin wall, surmounted with a parapet with semicircular cienelations, The gates are of old wood, studded with iron knobs, The streets are filthy, unpaved lanes, and the house-doors lead downward, as into a cellar, There | is no hotel or inn of any description. i The whole town is studded with mes- { ques, small, decayed, and poor in ap- | pearance, but there are only two of | consequence, the Great Mosque and the i Tomb of the Barber, ! In the Great Mosque there are a { multitude of pillars, mostly antique re- | malus, of various colored marbles. On | entering, knowing the prejudices of the | Turks, I stooped down to take off my shoes before treading on the holy carpet -OF rather matting. This appeared to please them, and a priest made a ges- ture to ‘me, and forthwith caused the matting to be rolled away, so that I could walk upon the floor, thick with | dust and dirt. igive, Numbers of figures, with their rosaries of beads, and | boards, chanting a Kind of Gregorian measure, This caused a sort of vibra. ting hum to pervade the building. At the foot of the pulpit are two red gran- ite pillars about twelve feet high, and | some vix inches apart, Through these the faithful squeeze themselves into Paradise, having previously reduced their bodies by starvation for the pur. | pose. Nearly two and a half inches of | granite have been worn away from one | of the pillars by repeated friction, so {that the entrance has become easier | than it must once have been. A small, | slum boy of thirteen years of age was just { able to slip through. To a full-grown { man it must have been a severe trial, The Tomb of the Barber, placed in | an upper room in one of the mosques, is ! surrounded with trellis-work, covered | with rich carpet, and hung round with | canopies, banners, painted ostrich eggs, ‘and other offerings of the fathiul, t Every Friday, and also on other days in the week, pepapces take place at various mosques or religious houses in the town. caste of their own, I went to see one of these ceremonies, i It took piace at half past 8 in the even ing, two hours after dark. | courtyard, and pessed thence to a | whitewashed room, stepping over the | carved barrier about eighteen inches | high, which is usual in Moorish houses, { 1 then found myself in a room, as far (as I can guess, about thirty or forty { feet long by twenty or thirty feet wide. On the right, as we enterec, was a sort of sleove with dark marble pillars. The walls of the room, which were some- what irregular, were daubed with whitewash, and very dirty; the floor was of mud and stone. Oppusite the alcove, and on the left of the entrance door, was a huge wooden grating, be. hind which the women were placed. In the centre hung an enormous chande- lier of rough woodwork, perhaps about twelve feet square, and covered with bits of candle, glasses with oil and float- ing wicks, and scraps of glass, and mir rors; an old glass chandelier being op- posite the d or, likewise garnished with oil lamps and scraps of tallow candle, The light was very dimn, and the room had no windows except in the roof which was high and very irregular in form, leading upward until its shape was lost in the gloom, A piece of yel- low matting was in the centre, at the edge of which was a small camp stool for the chief priest. For our accom- modation, two wooden divans, in shape and size like camp bedsteads, were ranged along the wall opposite the door, In the centre of the matting wasa large iron brazier with tripod feet, filled wilh glowing embers—I think of charcoal. Around this brazier, with their faces inward, & number of persons were sit. ting, or rather squatting, in Oriental fashion, their shoes placed in rows out- side the edge of the matting. Their dress consisted of a fez, with a white and gold turban wound tightly around the lower part of it; underneath this fer they wear white caps, Their clean liness was very remarkable, and pre- sented a striking contrast to the houses in which they live. On their bodies they wore common white shirts, and loose linen HH puigid, a waistcoat of em- . Sd Tran up under the right into a fold overthe breast. About twenty of these in the inner circle near the bra. instruments, pottery. After we had been there a short time the music began, under the direction of a leader. At first the measure was glow, but quickened in magnificent erescendos, and diminuen- dos, with eries of ** Allah, Allah!” This lasted nearly three-quarters of an hour, The music was barbaric,but the religious ferver of the performers gave it a cer- tain artistic merit that was very im- pressive, By degrees the devotees rore from the carpet and stood along the wall of the room opposite to us, They then began to sway from side to side, keeping time fo the music; then, as the music became louder, they swayed more and more, sideway and forward; at last bending down on one kuee and rapidly rising again, At last one of them began to roll his head round and round on his breast, Upon this the lesser priests brought him forward on tothe matting, and removed the turban, fez, and white cap, leaving his head bare. The head was shaved, with the exception of a long, thick bunch of hair in the esntre, which sometimes hung down to the waist, With this the Prophet will lift them into Paradise. The musicplayed louder and louder, and they all began to groan —or rather, I should say, to howl until the noise was almost insupporta- bie. Then one after another became seized with a delirium, rolling their heads and eyes in a manner that almost frightened me, Then the assistant priests removed the garments from handed from one to another, over which they held their heads to inhale its fomes, Each A number of swords They con- ear in succession. were then brought forward. of handles, these swords were {itted into round blocks of wood, about six inches in diameter and two inches thick, The at the bandle and point, and began to them down with all their force against { their waists, Several of them {down and placed the points of the | swords against the muscles of their | shoulders near the neck. The { then drove the pomnts into the 1 { with small wooden mallets, so as project through the skin on the other side, priests {les} wi EN ARI Skippug a Cog, The other morning a citizen of Sproat street, Detroit, who looked the very the car, and whistling as a man will when at peace with all the world, when along came an acquaintance who halted way, and finally held out his hand, with the remark: Well, welll Then I was mistaken.” “In what?» “Why, I thought I beard my wife reading your death notice two weeks ago, and knowing how bad your liver “My death notice! a healthier man in Detroit!” “And knowing how badly your liver was affected.” continued the other, “I didn’t wonder at it. You are a terrioly careless man.” “Why, how?" “In not taking more care of yourself, The liver is a great vital organ, and no man showing the symptoms you do has {any right (0 neglect searching for a ! remedy,” “My liver! ' 1’ll bet you $50 that my “Never mind! If you want to be | obstinate that’s your lookout and not {mine, 1 simply promise to be one of | the pall-bearers. Good mooning!l®” | It was wonderful how the smile faded {and the whistling ceased, instead of on his face, and it was only by a great effort that he passed the first drug-store, When he came to the second he walked weather he said: “Doe,” my liver is slightly out of order, and I guess I'll buy a bottle of invigorator.*’ He got it and hurried off, anxious to reach the office and get down a dose, and no man will see a smile on his face again until he calls upon some doctor and learns that his liver is working away like a two-horse engine and shows no signs of skipping a cog. Putting Blood Mack There is the liveliest Kind of a strug- gle in progress at the State House, Boston, over an attempt to legalize the manufacture of water gas, the coal gas companies being the chief oponents. At a hearing recently representatives of the Boston gas light company claimed that water gas had caused the death of sixty-seven persons in New York within four years. Mr. Malcolm 8S. Green- ough, of the same company, and presi. dent of the New England Society of Gas Engineers, speaking of the physical dangers of the gas, a under oath, that he had gowe to the surgeons at the head of two or three hospitals, and they said that their atlention had re- cently been called to the difference in the effects of the two gases. One doctor said that he bad pulled through his last patients who bad become blood- po by gas by a new method. He had bled the patients, then oxygenized the blood, and purified it in the air, filling up the veins sometimes with salt and water, so that the action of the YOO YOR THOUGHT, There 18 no other sin bgt selfishness. Life is the childhood of Immortality. Hasty conclusions arg the mark of a fool. The best thing is to do the present thing well. Nothing is politically right which is morally wrong. Love is the perpetual gource of fears and anxieties, Heaven is never deaf but when man’ heart is dumb, ! The young sre slaves to novelty; the old to custom. Make method your slave, but be not a slave to method, If any man offend not in word, ths same is a perfect man. All have the gift of speech, but few are possessed of wisdom, Poverty may excuse a shabby coat, but is no excuse for shabby morals, All honest men will bear watching. It is the rascals who cannot stand it. There is no vice that doth so cover a man with shame as to be found false and perfidiouns, It is a great misfortune not to have enough wit to speak well, or not enough judgment to keep silent, Let men laugh when you sacrifice de- sire to duty, if they will. You have | time and eternity to rejoice in. { He is incapable of a truly good action | who knows not the pleasure in contem- | plating the good actions of others, Truth, justice and reason Jose all their | force and all their fustre when they are | not accompanied by agreeable manners, i Our incomes are like our shoes; if too ! mall, they gall and pinch us; but if too | large, they cause us to stumble and i trip. { Discretion is more necessary to women | than eloquence, y 1 less trouble to speak well than to speal little, 3 - Decal The real wealth of oman isthe num. things which he loves 5 and £ ck 341 { ber Oi anc blesses, by which he is loved and blessed, When you gis credit for yourself something in onder may give. Few things are more unchristian and | mean than habitual detraction. And | yet the habit is one into which we ma) | easily fall. The secret of opposition wo | religion is in the fact that it interfere | with the world’s love of gain and selfish | indulgence. Emerson says: ‘“The way to make | the world better is by reforming number | one, then there is surely one less villai in the world. : If you wish to be happy you musi | learn to be just deaf enough not to hear | some things, and just blind enough not | to see others, Nothing helps you so much to feel { content, a8 the taking of what share | may, from the nature of the thing, be | possible to you. {| The difference between a defaulter {and a thief is very simple. The ope steals enough to hire good lawyers and the other don’L Experience shows that success 18 due less to ability than tozeal. The winner is he who gives himself to his work, body and soul. Be whal nature intended you for, and you will succeed. Be anything else, and you will be ten times worse than nothing. The world is full of fools, and he who | would rot wish to see one, must not {only shut himself up alone, but also | break his looking-glass. It is not so much the mental vision {that is desired to discern truth and | goodness as the moral courage that dares openly to espouse it, The present hour isalways wealthiest when it is poorer than the future ones, as that is the pleasantest site which affords the pleasantest prospect, No persons, be they inever so humble circumstances, but have some quality of mind that entitles them to au equality with their fellow beings. 80 great & happiness do I esteem it to be loved that I fancy every blessing, both from gods and men, ready to descend spontaneously upon him who is loved. Tempests may shake our dwellings and dissipate our commerce, but they scourge before them the lazy elements, which otherwise would stagnate into pestilence. A holy life, spent in the service of God and in communion with Him, is without doubt the most pleasant and comfortable life that aoy man can live in this world. If all men were to bring their mis- fortunes together in one place, most woula be glad to take their own home again, rather than take a portion out of the common stock, It is a solemn fact that, of every three persons walking on this vast globe, two have never heard of the Savior, have never seen a Bible, know nothing of heaven or heii, It is never right to do evil that good may come, but always right to coneili- ate confidence and good will by con- form to others’ feeling when no principle is at stake, To be always intending to lead a new life, but never to find time to set about it, is as if a man should put off eating and drinking from one day to another, till he is starved and destroyed. A cottage will not hold the furniture and sumptuous recommoda- tions of a mansion; but if God be there, a cottage will hold as much happiness as would stock a palace. To think we are able 1s almost to be ¢, take to yourself no generosity unless vou dem 5 tbat you an all al
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