PAGE SIX THE CITIZEN, FRIDAY, MAY 17, 1912. A Worthy ! Veteran Honored How Uncle Luther Came to Lead the Memorial Day Parade By RAY STANNARD BAKER Undo Tommy Dowell and Uncle Luther Dowell were twins only In npv and patriotism. In everything elst they were its different ns black and white or hot and cold. Uncle Tommy was short and inifCy and bald of head, with a reminiscent twinkle In his blue eyes and a certain sprlKhtllness in his step that quite belied his ape. Also, lie had two pood, stout, stubby leps, al though they were n bit bowed and Ktlfr, so that lie thumped smartly with Ills heels when he walked. AVlwt Uncle Tommy lacked of reach ing nature's standard of a man Uncle Luther made up. He was gaunt and stooping and po spare that oue almost expected to hoar him rattle in his old blue clothes like withered peas in a pod. When he walked ho lurched at every step and bore heavily on his cane, for he had left his good right leg on the bloody slopes at Chlcknmanga. and for nearly thirty years he had stumped painfully about cm a wooden leg. Uncle Tommy was bluff and prosper ous. He lived in a comfortable houe in West Alden. Uncle Luther had a little one story shop across the county line in the ad joining town of Amery, where he sol dered leaky milk pans and tinkered clocks. It was next the lane in the further corner of his son Jonathan's land, and he made up his own bed anil cooked ids meals in the little room in the rear. He seemed at least twenty years older than Uncle Tommy, afld he had become querulous and quavery, so that Jonathan and his thrifty wife groaned under the responsibility of looking after him. And that shows how two brothers who have been boys together, men to gether and soldiers together may drift apart. For years Uncle Tommy and Uncle Luther had not met except at gatherings of old soldiers, and these were not pleasant meetings. Tor the two little towns, albeit they lay out on the wide Minnesota prairie, with only an imaginary line between them, could not agree. It was the kind of 'dissen sion Unit grows rank and strong in little communities where there are few outside interests to occupy the inter vals of attention. And the old soldiers took It up and fought it out as valiant ly as they had marched on Vlcksburg. They might hnve had a Grand Army post with reminiscent camptlres, and they might have had Fourth of July celebrations ami Memorial day pa rades, but as certainly as Uncle Tom my led the hosts of West Alden In one direction Amery and Captain Enoch Bradley could bo depended upon to inarch in exactly the opposite direc tion. As for Uncle Luther, he always fol lowed Uncle Tommys procession wher ever It might lead. Again and again the old soldiers of the two towns met In the interests of harmony. Uncle Tommy would come to preside, and Uncle Luther would second the mo tions, and then they all would slump off Into the quagmire of dlsseuslou. At such times the Arcs of a stirring past would blaze up in Uncle Luther's faded eyes, his stooped shoulders would stiffen back, a faint flush would steal into his cheeks, and he would nod his old gray head as if in time to martial tnusle that none but he could hear. Sometimes the tears came up to his eyes, and the boy who was fortunate enough to hear him talk thrilled with the quick pride of strife and longed to shoulder a carbine and march nwny to the music of fife and drum. For two years the towns had held Memorial day services, but they had been mournfully dispirited. Uncle Tom my by sheer force of character had been marshal of the day, nnd Uncle Luther nnd a few stragglers from Amery had marched with the parade But Captain Enoch and his supporters stood by with gloomy forbearance and offered no word of encouragement. There was really little need of Me morial day services except in the nb fitract. The cemetery, where (.ho dls cord of the two towns was burled, lay on a bare prairie knoll set around with precise rows of spindling cottonwoods that languished half tho summer with thirst and whipping winds and dust nnd it contained no soldiers' graves. But Undo Tommy's parades marched up the road to tho cemetery gate and back again, nnd Undo Luther felt that tho country's dead, wherever they might lie, had been honored. On the third year the old soldiers met again, thoroughly determined to be harmonious. In ten minutes' timo Uncle Tommy was thumping on the pine table with his cane, and several of the other old soldiers were clinging to Captain Enoch's coattails, while tho two men glared nnd threatened. And then Captain Enoch executed n well planned flunk movement, routed Undo Tommy and ran up the Amery colors. A few minutes later his fac tion, acting with the right of might, had decided uion nil tho important features of the parade. And to further rout Uncle Tommy and his retainers they appointed Uncle Luther to the honored position of marshal of the day. At first Undo Luther was dumb witli astonishment. IIo had as good right to Iip marabal as Uncle Tommr. Thev hod belonged to the tamo reglmcnr, and both had reached tho rank of cor poral, Uncle Luther, on oue leg nnd Uncle Tommy on two. But Uncle Lutlier nlwnyB had deferred to Uncle Tommy ns if he had been an older brother, nnd it xeemcd to him hardly short of sacrilegu to appear as Uncle Tommy's rival. So ho struggled to ills feet and held up u lean linger to catch Captain Enoch's eye. "I'd rather have Tommy hnve the place," he faltered. "He's better tit led for it than I be." But Uncle Tommy was storming down the room. "Keep it I he roared, and ho went out, slamming the door after him. Uncle Luther followed him a few steps wistfully, and then lie dropped back in his seat and listened duniblj while Captain Enoch nnd the exultant rcvolters planned tho details of the parade. "It's Amery's turn this year," gloat ed Captain Enoch. Undo Luther walked up the road alone. His step was brisker than usual and there was a brighter gleam In his eye. Ho could not help feeling proud that he had been honored. There were other men in Amery who would hare served better in Ills place lie knew that well enough, for lie was old, and ho didn't walk easily but he was glad with the joy of ap preciation. For so many years ho had been an unnoticed, crippled tinker, nnd when at last recognition came to ldm, even at the expense of his more fortunate brother, he could not help exulting. "Well, I fought fcr it," ho mumbled, "an' I bled for it. I'd n-glven both my legs if necessary they know that." Then, after a pause, ho said aloud. "But I wisht Tommy'd got it." no opened the door of his little shop nnd went in. nis eyes swept the fa miliar disorder of tho room, the rusty tools hanging on tho wall, the blear faced old clocks, the pots nnd pans, oil the toys of a second childhood, lie was glad to bo at home again, for he was worn out and trembling with the unwonted excitement of the meeting. Outside tho sun shone on the green prairies, and there wns warm, puddly dust in tho road, but Uncle Luther's blood was thin and cold, nnd ho shiv ered in the damp interior of the shop. So he brought his soldering brazier from the corner and stirred the coals Into n bright glow. Then he bent over to warm his hands. Jonathan Dowell came down the lane between his prosperous fields on his way to town. Little Dick was with "WE THOUGHT WE'D DECORATE THE LI7IN' TUI9 YKAB, LUTUElt." him. When Undo Luther saw them he went to the door and beckoned. "Come in, Jonathan! Come in!" he called. His face shone with pride, and he told with feverish eagerness of the new honor which tho day had brought him. "Nonsense," interrupted Jonatlian testily?" "Don't you know, father, that you're gottin too old nnd feeble to take part in such tilings? You ain't able to walk to the graveyard an' back, au' you're only stirrin' up trouble between tho families. Uncle Tommy'll never forgive you." "I know it," ho faltered. "I know it, Jonathan. Tommy'd ought to have It. I told 'em so. I said Tommy'd ought to have It." The end of tho lane was the end of Dick's little world, nnd he turned and loitered back, humming a tune to him self, as n child will. Uncle Luther stood In the doorway and watched him wlBtfully. Of n sudden ho recalled how Uncle Tommy had looked when they were boys together. "Jus' like Tommy, exactly," he said half aloud, gazing fondly at the little fdlow. Then ho bent over him sUllly nnd beckoned. "Come see gran'pa," ho said, smiling enticingly. Dick crossed his hands behind his hack and looked at Uncle Luther sober ly. IIo was a sunny haired littlo tel low, with bluo eyes and pucUery red Hps, and be stood full In tho bright May sunshine. Uncle Luther regarded him seriously. "I told 'em I didn't want to march," he said protestingly. "I said Tommy'd do it better'n I could. But Captain Enoch, ner nny of 'em, would listen to mo. Don't bo 'way, Dickey; don't go way an' leave gran'pa," beseechingly. But the little boy waa odglng away, no didn't understand, nnd ho was afraid. "Don't jro way," mid Unel Lutlier Mgerly. "Come an' see whnt gran'pa's got for Dickey." lie turned nnd hobbled painfully across his shop. He put on his spec tnclca and opened n drawer in his work bench, nnd in its depths lie found a stick of horohound candy. Dick stood with one pudgy hand resting on tho door frame, peering into (lie shop with wide eyes. "Candy," announced Undo Luther expressively. Dick drew n littlo nearer, glancing from tho candy to Ills grandfather's wrinkled face. Uncle Luther waved the stick llko a wizard's wand and lured Dick nearer nnd nearer until a dirty littlo hand closed over the candy. Then he reached out slyly and cau tiously and gathered Dick in ills nrms. "Ain't you goin' to kiss gran'pa?" lie asked eagerly. But tho llttln boy wriggled away nnd ran out of the door. Uncle Luther watched hlni loitering up tho lano in the sunshine, sucking his candy, until the vision blurred in his dim old eyes. Then lie returned to his brazier. He pat down and drew his choir almost over it. Ho bent double, with his el bows on his knees nnd his head rest lug on his hands, and there lie sat alone for n long time. Finally lie straightened up. The subtle warmth of tho lire had stolen through all his body. He leaned back in ills chair, his head drooped over to ono side and ids work worn old hands lay palm up ward on his knees. lie was fast asleep. Tho brazier under him continued to glo'w nnd send its cheery comfort steal ing up around his chair. It had a friendliness nnd licnrty warmth that were more than tho kindness of many of the old man's friends. Tile dusk" of evening came down nnd filled tho corners with shadows, nnd presently a glow that was not nil In the brazier began to illumine the con tor of the room. A thin, wavering mist of smoke curled up around the old man nnd crept silently along the dingy cell ing. A moment later there was n sharp burst of flame that disappeared. as suddenly as It come. The old man's trouser leg rested against the hot bra zier, and the line fire gnawed and sparkled In the heavy cloth. A few shavings on the littered floor of the shop were crisping with sudden wisps of flame, and the chair legs were on flro. But Uncle Luther slept on, whol ly unconscious of his danger. Jonathan Dowell, returning from the village, saw n sinister glare in the shop windows. He rushed into the room, seized the old man and lifted him swift ly to one side. Then he beat out the fire with a gunny sack. Uncle Luther sat up, trembling and terrified. His wooden leg was gone. It had burned almost to Uic stump, and tho charred remains were still smoking. Jonathan Dowell's voice rang with anger. "What won't you do next, father?" he said. "You've set yourself on fire nnd nearly burned up the shop. That wooden leg of yours cost mo just ?50, and It'll be a long time before I can afford another." And then he saw dimly the agony in his father's face, and he softened. He was not a bad man nor even a harsh man only thoughtless. "You must learn to be more careful, father," he said gently and yet Insistently, as If he talked to a child. Uncle Luther was glad when his son went away. He crept to his littlo back room like a wounded dog and lay down on the bed. 'Too bad to trouble Jonathan nn" his wife," ho muttered. "Cory is so thrifty an' partie'lar. I'm careless; I know it. I'm gottin' old." And then after n time his mind reverted to the earlier interests of the day, and he said aloud, "I wish Tommy'd got it." News travels quickly In a small town, and the next morning the sym pathetic and tho curious came to con sole with Uncle Luther nnd to exam lne tho remains of tho $50 leg and to point out where the flro had charred the chair. Among the very first to call was Captain Enoch Bradley, who was a hearty, warm blooded, irascible old fel low, and his bluff sympathy went far toward solacing Uncle Luther in his aflllctlon. " 'Twnn't so bad as if you hadn't lost it before," ho comforted. But Uncle Luther had no mind for treating his loss frivolously, The years hud crushed all of the humor out of him and left him only tragedy. "I was thinkin'," he snid, "that now I can't march. P'raps Amery mU;ht let Tommy have It" Captain Enoch frowned darkly, but Uncle I.uther hurried on: "He's more commandln' than I be er ever was, er ever will be, an' he's had practice" "Oh, you'll be ready to march by Memorial day," Interrupted Captain Enoch. "It's good of you to say so," said Uuclo Luther, "but I Jus' can't do it Tommy's the man." And then lie add ed wistfully, "I whiht I could i Tommy." But Uncle Tommy did not come. Undo Luther heard, however, thut Uncle Tommy had been npiolnted marshal of the parade, nnd ho was glad of it For hlmsolf, ho was busied after the first day or two with n stout pleco of ash, which he slowly whittled down with a draw shavo to tho pro portions of a wooden leg. It would not do as woll as a regular artificial leg, such as tho ono ho had been wearing, but ho hoped that it would servo him for tho Memorial day exer cises. no Btill cherished a desiro to march with tho parade, although ho knew that Jonathan would not upprovo of it no wna afraid of Jonathan. But whole days slipped by when he was not strong cnongh to work, and yet ho clung to the task with feverish eaBcr noes. Tho man within him protested that lie was still good for something, that old age had not robbed him of ev erything. On the morning of Memorial day tin; whittling wns all finished, but thcrr romuined the task of attaching tin straps, and Uncle Luther knew thai ho could not hope to complete the lea In time for the exercises. So lie lnld it nwny, and toward noon he dressed up in his best blue clothes nnd put on Ills wide brimmed black hat with the gold cord around the crown. Then he hobbled out of tho door and dropped down on a box by tho fence with his back resting against a mist. Where Undo Luther sat he could look up the yellow stretch of roadway, and he knew that lie could see tho parade al most as soon as It left the town. It would pass the end of the lane on its way to tlie cemetery, and he hoped, with the optimism of the very old nnd the very young, that It would conic back by the same road. Seeing It was next to marching with it. Uncle Luther put on his long dls lance glasses, and he saw a blur oi blue moving along the road from the village. Above It there was a blur of red and white. A moment Inter they resolved themselves Into a knot of old soldiers, with the Hag flapping above them. Uncle Luther took u long breath, and his eyes shone. Suddenl a band began to play the stirring mu sic of "Marching Through Georgia." "They've got the band," exclaimed Uncle Luther in a voice that choked with ecstasy. Unconsciously he rose on liN ono good foot nnd took off his hat. His eyes dimmed, and ns the enlivening strains of the music crime up to him another picture formed on his misty glasses. He saw the boys in blue not a meager handful of gray nnd stooping remnants, but boys with fresh young faces and broad shoulders nnd proud chins. They were muddy to the knees with march ing, they were ragged and tattered, but they swept by to the drums and fifes, regiment after regiment and bri gade after brigade, and orderlies clat tered up and down with yellow envel opes stuck in their belts, and the shells were screeching from tho Confederate heights, no saw the companies wheel and deploy. Ho saw them strip down and form In line at "charge bayonets." The big black guns were leaping the ruts in the road, with the gunners clinging desperately to the caissons. Then he saw the long line of gray rise up over the hill and pour Itself down the slope. He saw tho ragged, mile long flash of tho carbines, and he would have leaped forward to the charge If for a single moment ho hud heard tho bilge's shrill summons. Uncle Luther's spectacles were dim med. He polished tlicm off with shaky fingers nnd looked again. Behind the band there was a stretch of white that seemed to twinkle In tho sunshine. 'They've got the children, too," he faltered. Then the old fellows In blue swung at the corner. They were keeping mili tary Hue, and something of tho old spirit had thrilled their steps Into an unwonted precision. The band, wheel ing with them, swept into "Ilnlly Round tho Flag, Boys." Uncle Luther leaped forward on his ono good leg, waved his hat around his head and shouted, "nurrah, hurrah!" His head was thrown back, bis eyes flashed, his breath came back quiet and hot. Now they had reached the end of tho lane, nnd Undo Luther could make out tho full length of tho parade. It was by far the greatest celebration that tho town ever had known, and his heart swelled with prldo at the thought. Not once did he recall his own disap pointment nnd sorrow. It was nil for tho glory of the day. Suddenly Undo Luther shrank back. What were they trying to do? He folt nn Impulse to run forward and tell them that they had missed the way to the cemetery nnd thnt the lano ran only ns far as Jonatlian Dowell's house. But before he could decide what to do tho old soldiers stopped almost In front of his own little shop. Tho band had swung out to one side. It wns playing "America," and the sweet, shrill voices of the children rose nnd fell with the music. Uncle Luther sank back on his box, trembling. Through n mist of great happiness he saw Uncle Tommy nnd Captain Enoch advancing toward lilm side by side. Ho couldn't bellevo It at first; ho didn't pretend to bellevo it. "I'm gettln' old," he muttered, "an' I'm not stendy In my mind." But ho rose to meet them. Uncle Tommy carried an odd shaped pack age In his arms, and when he was near to Undo Luther he stppped and cleared his throat. Every one was si lent, listening. "I calc'lato to mako a speech," he stammered, "but we thought we'd dec orate the llvln' this year. Luther, hero's a now leg." IIo hold out tho odd shaped package helplessly. Uncle Lutlier did not seem to see It nt all. IIo reached forward and put his hands on his brother's shoulders, nnd tho leg fell down un heeded between the two old men. Undo Luther strapped on tho lex with trembling, Inefficient finger, nnd then Captain Enoch nnd Undo Tomm; marched him out between thorn. Un clo Tommy's own horso and buggy, decorated with ribbons and flowers, stood in front of tho shop. "You're goln' to bo tho marshal of tho day," said Captain Enoch. "But Tommy" "Get in," commanded Uncle Tommy In a volco that won not to bo disputed. Undo Luther, sitting as straight ns a trooper, drovo out at tho head of tho procession, wliile tho band, with a rat tic of drums, swept into 'Hall, Cclam- Ma, Happy Land." "I'm afraid wo might run into nn iceberg." "Tho danger is very slight, nuntlo." "Well, give tho captain u dollar anyhow, and then he'll bo extra careful." Louisville Courier-Journal. Onbo Johnson is always broko Whnt'a tho matter with him? Stovo He's always trying to rich quick. Cincinnati Enquirer. gov A lovely mnRnlfylnc glass A mirror Is to every Inns. Iter clinrms are mannlfled In It; It docs not show her faults a hit. Catholic Stnndard and Times. Townley Jones says that bo's male Ing $5,000 a year out of tho chicken business. Subhubs-I'll bet it is out of it He's not making thnt in tho chicken busi ness. Boston Transcript Judge You have been hero twice be fore, nnd twice I hnve sent you to Jail. Have you anything to say why 1 should not scud yon there again? Prisoner I liavo scruples against a third term, your honor. Judge. Oft docs It causo mo sorrow great And lcavo mo somowliat frightened When tho "Instructed delegate" Beems strangely unenlightened Washington Star. "I see your son has gone to work." "Yep." "How Is ho getting along?" "Oh, fine. Anything in tho way of a novelty always appeals to him." Washington Herald. "Then tho wedding wns not altogeth er a success?" "No; tho groom's moth er cried louder than the bride's moth er. It was considered very bad form." Louisville Courler-Journnl. Tho meanest thing about our work. The thing that makes us rue It. Tlio thing that makes us try to shirk. Is that wo havo to do It. Cincinnati Enquirer. "I nm another man since I was mar ried." exclaimed the htppy benedict. "And does your wifo love that ot)er man?" Puck. "Grandma might havo had an army pension as well as not" "And what prevents her from get ting it?" "Why, she married a stay at homo." Cleveland Plain Dealer. "SInco I purchased somo gloves made of chamois," Remarked a young man called Samois, "My hands feel qulto nlco Whero they once felt Uko lco. They were always so cold and clamois." Satire. "Do you think selective memories are tho best?" "I don't know about that, but they are mighty handy in an inves tigation." Baltimore American. ner Father Can you support in; daughter In the style to which she has been accustomed? ' Suitor No, sir; but she says she can accustom herself to tho stylo in which I can support her Plans & Estimates Furnished Residence, 1302 EastSt. H. F. Weaver Architect and Builder VICK'S FLOWER SEEDS All of the crops of 1911 experimentally tested and hand picked from the yield of the justly celebrated gardens of Vick. FOR SALE at the drug store of C C. Jadwin, Honesdalc, Pa. D. & H. CO. T1HE TABLE A . XI , SUN P..M, SUN A.M. A.M. P.M. 8 30 10 00 10 00 4 30 8 05 ... Albany .... Ilinctiumtou 10 00 A.M. 10 00 2 15 12 30 2 15 215 7 io 7 65 3 16 4 03 7 10 4 40 0 30 12 30 1 19 . Wllk es-Uarre. . ...Scrantoti.... o 00 P.M. A.M. P.M. P.M. A.M. Lv S 40 S 6o! 5 61 8 45 8 55 6 20 U 30 2 05 2 15 2 19 2 37 2 43 2 52 2 57 2 59 3 03 8 45 8 65 8 U 9 1H .. .Curbondnle .Lincoln Avenue.. Whites Farvlew Canaan . . Lake Lodore . . . ... . Wtiymart , Keene Steene ....Prompton ..... Fortenla .....Heelyvllle .... Ilonesdale .... 8 50 U IS 8 21 ti 34 0 11 8 82 868 7 07 7 13 7 18 7 201 6 17 6 28 8 32 9 21 9 32 9 37 9 39 9 43 0 47 9 60 9 65 a n 8 35 0 39 u 4:t U 39 0 43 U 47 7 24 3 07 3 10 3 15, H 48 6 S0 U 60 U U 7 27 7 31 P.M. A.M. P.M, P.M. A.M. Ar PKOFESSIOXAIj OAIIDB. Attorncv-nt-Lnw. H7 WILSON, ATTOKNEY A COUNBKLOR-AT-LAW. Oil! co ndlnccnt to Post Olllrn In Dlmmlrt olllce, Honrsdnle, I'n. WM. II. LEE, TT ATTOKNEY A COUNSELOIt-AT-LAW. OITlco over nost olllce. All local business promptly aucnucu to. Ilonesdale, I'a, EC. MUMFORD, . ATTORNEY A COUNSELOR-AT-LAW Olllce Liberty Hall bulldlne, opposite the Post Olllce. Ilonesdale. la. OMER GREENE. ATTORNEY A COUNSELOR AT-LAW Olllce, Court House. Ilonesdale I'a. ruiARLES a. Mccarty, J ATTORNEY A COUNSELOR-IT-LAW. Special and prompt attention clven to the collection of claims. Olllce. City Hall, Ilonesdale. I'a. ME. SIMONS, . ATTORNEY A C0UN8EL0R-AT-LAW Olfico in the Court House, Ilonesdale I'a. JETER II. ILOrF, ATTORNEY A COUNSELOR-AT-LAW Olllce Second floor old Savincs lint building. Ilonesdale. I'a. QEARLE & SALMON, D ATTORNEY8 A COUNSELORS-AT-LAW Olllccs latelv occupied by Judge Searle c U1KSTEK A. GARRATT, ATTORNEY A COUNBELOR-AT-LAW. Olllce adjacent to Post Otlice. Ilonesdale. Pa. Dentists. D1 R. E. T. BROWN, DENTIST. Olllce First floor, old Savings Bank build- Ins. Ilonesdale. I'a. I)"' C. R. BRADY, DENTIST, II0NESDALE, PA. 1011 MAIN ST. Citizens' Phone. Physicians. P. I!. PETERSON, M. D. 1126 MAIN 6TREET, HONESDALE. PA. hyeanu h.ar a specialty, lne luting oi class es given careful uttention. IIVERY F. G. RICKARD Prop. FIRST-CLASS WAGONS, RELIABLE HORSES. Given to TrtADE Marks Designs CopmicHTs c. Anyone lending it sXetrh and decrlptlnn my qulcklr ascertain our opinion free whether an Invention Is probably patentable. Communica tions utrlctlyconUdcntlal. HANDBOOK on Talents sent free, oldest apency for securing patents. Patents taken through Munu & Co. receive tpteial notice, without charge, la tho Scientific America.., A handsomely llln'trated weekly. Ijireest cir culation of any clentiao Journal. Terms, (3 a year: four months, L Sold byall newsdealers. MUNN & Co.3G,B'oad New York Branch Office. C2S F St. Washington, I). C. C We wisTi to secure a good correspondent in every town in Wayne county. Don't be afraid to write this office for paper and stamped envelops. HONESDALE BRANCH P.M P.M. .V.M. P.M. I A.M. SUN SUN. 2 00 12 40 10 60 8 45! 10 60 V 00 1 H Especial Attention .w Transit Business. ' Ihhhh stone bark church street w vL&AAl OVER 05 YEARS' E X P E R I E N C E mm VICK'S VICK'S GARDEN FIELD SEEDS SEEDS Philadelphia. 4 09 7 U 7 38 P.M. 7 11 7 38 . M P.M. 9 35 8 45 2 55 13 7 25 6 30 12 85 12 05 10 05 9 12 Ar .V.M. P.M, P.M, ! M P.M. 8 27 8 17 8 13 1 64 7 47 7 39 732 7 30 7 2s 7 22 7 19 7 15 P.M". 8 05 1 35 1 25 6 60 5 40 TT3 11 14 11 10 7 54 7 60 7 33 7 25 7 17 7 12 7 09 1 21 6 31 1 03 12 66 12 49 12 43 12 40 12 38 12 32 12 29 12 25 5 18 5 11 5 66 10 63 11 45 10 37 10 32 10 29 10 25 4 58 4 65 7 05 4 51 4 47 4 44 7 01 10 21 6 68 6 65 10 18 10 15 4 40 Lv A.M. P.M. P.M, A.M.
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