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A 'IL~vEA ~,L!63eLs
rh t khniM sari Fuesi, Paterant ef None
Ing Is selhksetern liesgta.
Paret.s have sung of rosy dawns, of.
orange sunsets waning low. anal of
that later hour when large Ilesper
glitters through the rosy spaces. while*
mid silent sp tres rise.' the deepnning~
night. but the poet is yet to be who
will tell in nunmbern worthy of the
theme the story of that magical drama
of nature, the stilver sunrlso in the
south, or in that p art of it known as
the cotton belt of southwestern (leor
gia. Tlhere the isotherm Is uemni-trortl.
cal. TIre almost list, slightly on. U.
latang landscape is, or was twenty
years ago, under the high cultivation
of the slave ns.atem, a sheet of verdure
breathinug incense in the monthas of
March. April, and May. The tall
cypress, the thick -leaved ambrosial
live-oak. the heavy-awnted magnolia
gra naillora, form the upper foliage.
betng the clear dark ponds that dot
the low, list, level tracts. Around
their sedgy borders the cranes and
curlows call, otn their dark bosoms
swim thu buroods of mallard and teal
dacks. All the beauty and pictor.
esquse charm of nature do not belong
to the mountain lands alone. Tai the
lever of nature in all her phases and
moods thin pondl lanid is as full of
beauty as of Ibloom. It Is ltvely at all
seasoes of the year. ail hours of the
day. but eslreciai:y when seen under a
Not every morning of the whale
year round is this wonder witnessed.
It ake pcularconditions of the at
mtosnhere to protiuce the phenome.
morn. To the savant belongs tbe task
of telling what the conditions are that
produce a sil',cr sunset. The effect I
will try to describe. In April or May.
whea the early spring raims that have
moaked the porous soil and filled the
ponds. and given the dlush and lusty
gree ahtes to the eartb~have cessed to
fl.when the atmiosphere is rarliled
by a heat that twakes the young cot.
ton plants grow visibly under your
eye; in the darkness of a morning that
is only slightly cooler than the might
i. which oat have watched the mo
tions of the constellations in the cloud
less heavens, you may rise, as I have
risen. morming after morning, to catch
that fleeting tiret sceme in the first act
of the spetacular drama of a sunny
dayr in the sunny south.
Ito ant wait to hear the clock strike.
or look at your watcht, but when dawn
is near, the swift-passing dawn ot that
latitude. whtch you wilt know by the
low murmur of insect and bird life
around you. rise ,and 'hasten forth.
Yon can see the white sands under
your feet. but barely note the long,
gray mosses that hang like stalactites
from the brantches of the trees above
your head, only faintly In the gloom
made visible by starlight and the
swift-moving dawn. In that latitude
twilight and dawn are matters of only
a few minutes. The stars blase out, as
it were, in the beamseof the nst sun.
In the negro parlance of the old tifmes:
-It is broad day beforeyon know what
you are about." The sedgy rims of
the ponds, the tall cypresses and oaks,
the heavy trailing creepers of the
vines, the light swaying banners of
the moess.every tiny blade of grass
and leaf plant and weed, every Bower
petal and wheel of field cobweb is
gemined with beais ot dew, hut it
doea not drtp. It looks almost or
quite like hoar-frost spread over the
oesan-like expanse of land and water,
like a white veil blending and making
more beauttful the darker verdure of
the foliage around the pools, and the
glowing emerald and color shades of
the cotton and corn fields.
A thousand mocking birds are all of
a sudden cleaving the blue vault
above you with such strains of nnpre
meditated art as skylark never
dreamed of. In fact, If one of the
southern mocking birds ever hears the
song of one of those English skylarks
which the late Isn't' W. England
found a home for in the meadows of
New Jersey, he will beat him no badly
In his own mson that the British warb
ler will hide hi~s head under his wing,
poor thing, and die of grd sfad
Afar off from thicket and leafy cov
set comes the cooln cc a thousand
doves, the soft whistle of as many
qauails, the shrill cries of the redbirds.
thoe shriller calls of the cathirds. and
notes of many another feathered song
inter, whome acmes you must learn from
Mr. Audubon. The thrushes, too,
hardly lom musical than the mocksng
birds, slag from the leafy boughs sand
shrubbery sear by.
While bathed, as it were, in this oet
beret ef liquid melody, this fret
dinaso of the opera of the day, sud.
dwely, without warning, with no rosy
glow to herald his coming, up from
the white misty horizon bursts the sun.
a blaze of siliver light bigger than the
biggest cart-wheel that everwasmade,
dansliug. as if comnposed of ten thou
sand burnished silver mirrors hashlag
electrie light through panes of crystal.
boding the landscape with silver lace
dotted with diamonds and powdered
with sparkling silver dust. Thenseas
of the exquisite coloring of the scene
is lost isathe wondrous radiance shed
over the landscape that stretches miles
uny.stil the dazzling view .s lost
liL i silvery haze of the horlnon. It
looks as if all fairy laud had met to
hattle on a field of Jeweled silver,
Panoplied in silver maili, and every
shici' and every spear decked sand tip
thererest eln this wondrous scene.
which lasts but a few minutes. for the
Iret breeze of morning waving the
spaklig annrsof long mom, sand
tie rswarm kiss of the sun beams
sweep the glittering pageant all away.
-Naar Perk Brnn.
licaith and Wealth.
Health and wealth have many points
In common; first of all in the r very
names. To have health is to be well;
to have wealth Is also to be well-well
Wealth Is for the most part got in
three wars-l0y inheritance: by self.
denial; by care, labor and attention;
often by suome combination of these
three. Wemalth is lost by extravagant
expenditure or by carelessness and
Health mar also be got in these
three ways. A man may Inherit it
from his ancestors: he may gain or
keep It by denying his appetites for
luxur!.,us budx and drink. and for ex
cease's of all kinds; he may besides
have to work for It. by paeas-takiag
exercise, and a constant supervision
over his habits. In brief, unless a
man has inherited a large and vigor.
ous5 stuck of health, he must do as he
has to do when he does not inherit
He may also lose health by extrar.
agant demands upoa It, by reckless
expenditure or by careleseness In
nurturing and preserving it.
Moreover, the connection between
health and wealth is so close that If he
spends his wealth iavishly and reck
les~ly on luxurious living and dissipa
tion at the gaming table or other fin.
Isro~p r places tar into the night, his
health will go with his wealth. So
again it often happens that he cannot
have both an excess of health and an
excess of wealth at the same time. He
often loses his health acquiring his
wealth, and if he has to care anxiously
for his health he is not likely to ac-cu
Agair. health Is like wealth in that a
man may accumulate health not only
without wronging anybody. but In do.
ing so actually benefits the world. A
man who gathers health and vigor
from the air and the water, from iprosp
er exercise and a correct life, doss not
take one particle of health from any.
body. There still remain in the earth
and atmosphere plenty of the elements
of health for all the rest of the world.
He. moreover, provides in himself and
his offspring a certain number of par
sons who will not burden the comma
nity with sick and feeble memhers.
SSo, too, a man by his labor and his
self-denial may. without injuring asa
prson whatsoever, gather wealth
frmtesifomn the manufactnrin
forces of nature and art or from hG
capacity to organize business eater.
prises and so reduce the friction
of commerce. The wealth thus
created is besides a positive addition
to the comfort and the prosperity of
A man cannot voluntarily be do.
privedl of his health. He may sacri.
wie it himself, just as he may sacrifice
his wealth. for the benefit of his 1.1
low-men. But no one can take It from t
him. If there were any way of do
lng so there would be but ores result.
11. man would deny himself .1r take t
any pains whatever to acquire or pre.
serve this health. only for the sake of i
being obligsd to give it up to some
person, too luxurious. of too lazy to "
acquire it for himself. 5'
The same ts true of wealth. No
man would accumulate weaith if he
knew It would be confiscated by "
the self indulgent or the lazy the
monment he had got enough o( it to 0
tempt them to take it froms'liim. This a
is the fatal defect of all socialist and f3
communist schemes. 1.1 put in prac.
two,. men would cease to acquire tl
wealth and the civilization would de. U
generate Into savagery.h
In some conditions men are forced
to give up their wealth to other peo
ples. Slaves have to do it. Heavily
taxed people have to do it. What Is
the result? Slaves and the heavily
taxed ceamseto produce masch more
than enough to keep themselves alIve,.
and the races or nations which long e
suffer such a state of things become d
impoverished and go to decay. s
There Is one particular, however, in
which health seems to, but really doese
not, differ from wealth. If it wereposbefrahrw an aigf
rean to obtain health from ether pee. s
phe, leaving them sick and feeble, he
would then be like the speculator or
gambler who obtains property from I
ethers without product ire labor. But
a man who should get health in this I
way would addunothing to the com- s
most stock of health. He would t
merely transfer it from other people to i
himself. This, however, would beana
unequal distribution, not an accnmu. 1
latieu of health. So the gains ofa 1
gambler or speculator are net an ao I
cumulation of wealth but an unequal
distribution of property. '1
Such transfers add no more to the a
pessersi wealth of the country than I
transfers of health would add to its I
general hteefh. But any man who by 1
self-dsnial or labor accumulates either I
health or wealth is not only entitled to I
what he acquires, but his acquieltioe
Is a positive addition to both the
health and the wealth of the werld:
Defroit Free Pre"s.
Two men were quarreling. One o
them threatened to shoot the ether.
The threatened man, in revival of an 1
old pihoe of sarcasm, asked:
"Where do you bury all your deadr'
Just then, an excited ama drew the
satirist aside and said:
"My gracious! you ought not to talk
hs"Askin5 that man where he buries
..Because he is a physiciaa."-/r
1 AlICE WITUFEL
use a3, asB U !il ast i. Daeisis Wf
Usaib. muu .
"1 don't expect to lire munch long~er,
anl after Iam dead I want you to put
in tie papor+ the story of that ride!I
hal from Prospect to Droetom in 1i$C)."
The speaker was Del Brown, an oi.!
r oeomotive engineer, who wan lidng at
ip hmomue in Portlanad. N. Y., dinmg
with conuunj'tioe. This wasn several
nmonths ago. On the 7th inst. he dIied.
Fie was nearly sixty years old, andI one
i1 the okldst engineers in the U'nited
!4staes. His story of the awful rile Iis
"In l106 I was running a train
oni the Buffalo, Corry and Erie
RilauroadI. The track 'from Prms
smet., or Mlavvulle Itummit, to lirommuon
*tInnetimif tis smm crookedl, that while tihe
dimatance ism am-tually only ten miles. the
cnlrvea m ake it bmy rall 'fourteen. The
¢a-amde for the whole distance is over
am.vmmnty feet to th, mile. About II
,;"al ni the nighat of August 17. l~tiet,
we re~a.*leml time tiummit with a train of
twol paaalommi.t.r4ear. mmlx oil-cars, andI a,
boxr ear. 'The latter contained two vai
nable trntting-hormea and their keepers
with thammm. on their wai-. I believe to
l'hicammamc. There were fifty or sixty
taseuim~aiCr int the two ears. I got time
signial fromt time eormiluetr tom start an'd
gidleami out. We hail got undemr camumia
'1bl head im'iwaiy. when lookinig luck. I
smaw man oiii air in tiie namimtll.' of t'".'
trait, -im. in tire. I reveram.ml tiwengmimte
trml whistle I for brakeam. The -oumltne
tmor asst hr akertaen jumperd off. They
.t:acutrLm1m tie lmmmammnmar cars minI am
th~.lmrakes ai~mtaitent anti lmromt;'a t thmese
to a atati. timpm~uaaing that thin iraikmm
on the lmuuan m~afill car,. woulmd alitma ii.'
,ttt 0n. I callmim to a lmram'emmamn on the
ýexcar to draw time eonimlitmceanlmitn..
twa~en thaat cear aidl thme he ,l oil tank.
de inmmmfg som thmmt lie coutld do it. intenmi
ing to run far emnougim to mmmv. time im~m
cati andt tihe locoimotive. Aim I rant ilostm
lime hill after time ipin had oim,- dirawnm.
whaet was my hmorror tim see tihat tihe
laurnimig mars were followinag ume at a
nl tha~t wasM rapidmmly incmreasming. The
laamlm html not eu.tmmmemkl imm puattinmg on
tiim irakme'. I asaw that time only timing
that emmulm lie dinte wmis to run fmr it toi
Birmwton. andl time chiances were thamt we
wouldm nmver remmm'h there at tihe speedi
whieh we woamiml lie oblilgedl to make,
armamtum thosae shairp reverse curtesv
aim "re we mail never run over twentyt
mhimma an homur. l'*lmmn I saw the flaew
liing m.ars-f.mr the whole mix werm- on tire
h"' this time-m-~-itinmginig after imm., and
cthe miamlaw Thu.. oixl imullmmm the throt.
tle un~n.The i- ars caught me.
thorughm. hmm~fmire I got away. They eame
with full form-a against the rear of the
imox-mar, smashming in one end and knock.
ing time horsees and their keepers flat on
the dloor. The heat was almost unen
ilurablam, and do my best I couldn'mt pat
more tmamn thirty feet between the pur.
suing fire and ourselves. By the lilght
from the furnace, as the fireman opened
the dloor to pile in the coal. I caught
sight of the face of one of the hiorsemen.!
he having crawled up to Wei grated
openingin the end. It was pale as death.
antd he hmegged me for (lodes sake to
give her more steam. I was giving her
then all time steam she c~ould carry, anal
the grade ltself was sufficient to carrya
us down at the rate of fifty miles an'
hour. We went so fast that the en
gine refused to pump. Every time we
struck one of those curves the old
girl would run on almost one set of
wheels, and why in th, world she didi not'
topple over is something I never could
understand. She seemed to know that
It was a raee at life or death, andi work
ed as If she were alive. The night was
dark, sand the road ran through deepp
woods, deep rock cuts, and along high
embankmtents. We were thundering
along at lightning speed, and only a
few paves behind us that fiery- demon in
full pursuit. There were fifty thou
sand gallons of oil in those tanks at
least, and it was all in flames, making a
Lying avalanche of five hundred feet
ln.Tihe flames leaped into the air
nearly one hundred feet. The roar was
like that of eome great cataract. Now
and then a tank would explode with a
noise like a esannon, when a volume of
flm ndpthy smoke would rise high
abv h oyof flame and showers of
burning .11 would be scattered shout in
the wood.. The whole eountry was
lighted up for miles around. Well. it
waen't long going at the rate we made,
' before thm. lights of Broctmmeamein
siht down the valley. The relief I
felt whem these came in view wee short
lived, for I remembered thttrain S on
the Leke Sherewouldbem at the Junc
tin about the time we would reah it.
Zjkwas the Cineinnatli experess. Our
oalyhthatat l along the race bad been
tha th swtchan atthe junction
would think far enough to open the
switch there connecting the roass-cut
track with the Lake Shore track, and
let us run inoan the latter, where the
grade would he against us, if anything,
sad where we would momma get out thle
way of the oil cars. The switch would
he closed now for the express, and our
last hopo was gene unless the express
was late or some one had sense enough
to flag the express. While we were
thinking of this we new the train tear
ing along toward the junction. Could
we reach the junction, get the switch.
and the switch beseot back for the ex
press before the latter got timers? Uf
sot, there would be an inevitable crash,
In which not only we, but scores of
others would be crushed to death. All
this cnjectuuiag did not oecupy two
seconds. but In them, two seconds I
lived years. "Good Glod!'" I maid tc
my firemanas what are we to do? Th.
firemana promptly replied-and
he was a brave little fellow
-that I should whistle foe
the switch and take the eabeam.. I
did sa. That whistle wae one pro
longed yell of agony. It was a shriek
that seemed to tell us that our brave
odengine knew our danger sad bad its
fer.: either the fireman nor mysehl
spoke another word. Thanks be to
tied, the engineer on the suprese train.
set iug us tearing down that mountaiu
with aneighth o¶ a mile of fire in alose
pursuit of as, knew in a moment that
only one thing could save ans Hie
whistled for hirakes, and got his train
on a standstill not ten feet from the
switab. The awitebman now aaswered
our signal. and we shot on the Shore
track sad whizzed on by the depot and
through the place like a roaket. The
buruing ears followed us, of aourse,
hut their race was rno. They had so
p ropelling power now, sad in three
horather. was nothing left of them
but smoking ruies.
"My fireman and I were so weak
Iwheon we brought our locoomotive to a
stop that we could not get out of out
cal. The two horsemen were uncon
ca.ions in the lboixar. The horses were
ruined. And how long do you think
we were mtaking that sixtoen mile.?
We ran two mnile'. up the Lake Shore
track. Just twelve minutes from the
summuit to the spot where we stopped..
A plumbi eighty miles an hour, not
eventiing the time lost getting tner~e
headway and stopping beyond Bros
1etae nu~ymamat MAd 1e~ahmmtae
New orok Letter to Com~m. reia1 Gaaette.
Di. Edward Eggleston, who wrote
liogelrer Scheoolmaster" and the "Cir
.-nit rider," and a number of interesting
stceries based on the early life of an I
itinerant Indiana pre-achier, has given
up filtion of late', and is devoting him
selIf to thme mreer snlbstanetial work
eel the "Americ-am colonies." lHe has
pretty welIl exhausted the field
ht're, however, and will go in May to
London to obtain the heneeft of the
liriti-el munseum, where Sthe most ex
tensive e-olle-ction of American archives
is to lee founne in the world. I should
not wonder, however, if this delving in
to colonial history would bring forth
fromn Dr. Eggleston's pens amew series
of American novels based on the rn-enes
of thme day. Walking through the bean
tiful little peatch of green is the eneet aide
of the city know a-e Stuyvesant Square,
a few days ago, it occurred tometo ask
lHr. Eggleston what he thought of the
tradition that old Peter Stuyvesant..
whose statue is in a nie-Imo in one of the 1
down-town buildings., had given that,
park to the city, that being the reason
assigned for the sabsurd custom of lock
lug the park gstes at sunset each even-]
9 Ther is nothing further from the
truh, D. ggesonremarked, "tha
mowt Iof nth thnset down as traditiona.
No ontsuppose that Peter Stuy
vesant-or silver- legged Peter, as the
Indians Called him, probably from the
fact that saroundl the wooden peg which
served him for a leg ho wore a silver
of some kind-heed anything to do with
the. bequeathing of thai. park. In the first
plae-e, when Peter Stuyvesant livede here
there was no more use for a Park in
'this locality than there would be for one
in the midst of the Catskill Meountains.
This was all wild land then, and the
city lay miles below, Some later mem
ber of the family probably made the do
natiou, and as P'eter was the most fa
moues member of the famiiy later gen
erations gave helm the credit for it."
"It is a good deal like the tradition of
Poc-ahontas ansi John Smith, I sup
1N o. There is a good deal of foun
dation for the story of Pocshontas.
When in Richmond and. James
town, where mny parents cams from,
and where I have recently made some
research in connection with other mat
ters concerning the Vignacolonies,
I found what I think is the true story
of the friendship between those two
people. I doubt lfilt has ever been
truly stated. When John Smiths sailed
up the James river, Powbattan was the
chieftain of a very large beand of Indians,
who were at first inclined to he friendly
with the whites, but were afterward ill
treated perhaps, and became hostile..
There seems to he good authority fow
the statement that by acme means
or other, Smith fail into their
hands. I do not believe that he'
was ever sentenced to death or rescued,,
as the story goes, but Pocahoatas-
whose name in the Indian language
stands for "little Wanton," or as we
would say, a "Little Mini"-.probably
claimed Smith as her slave. From that
there is lent little doubt that a very
strong attachment sprang up between
thems. Smith went beck to England,
however, and when BRolf came over he
had doubtless heard of Pocahontas, and
also got to know her. lie wanted to
marry her, but Pocahmontas still remem
barred John Smith, saed there is author-'
itv for the statement that It was only
afte they had neade her believe that
Smith wues dead that she consented to
marry. She was taken to London sand
there she learned that they had deceived
her sad she was broken down by the
The coavictijn and imprisonment at
a prominent mormon for polygamy, it
having a good effee-t already in making
polygamy as dangerous as it is odious.
sThe tatir aor ea7n sailZia Gea.
c t'Icimsari Ciameftcisi Oez4a.
Amid the ruins of their capital, with
bairs, bowed heads, in utter silence wadt
r hitter tek,. Lee and his Gencerals sepa
l ratedt and wenst their several ways to
born.. destroyed, families broken up
and scattered, and often Into *sil an']
1 The final parting was in front of Lee's
°mansion in Richmond, two days after
"Appomattos. Lee's honses is an ordi
narysquar brick, sanding alone on
Frakli sree. cowsqurefrom the
tCapitol. All the other housess on the
square are connected. Upon the after.
noon of the second day after the
surrender, people In that vicinity
were surprised to see cosue riding up
the street from the south a company
of Confederate horseman. They were
unarmed. Their gray uniforms were
worn, soiled, and often tattered, their
Strappiags old and patched. They wore
sloche hate, and here and these was
a feather remaining of the ones smart
and jaunty drooping plume of the Con.
fedeatecalaryen.They were brons
Sed and browned and bearded. They
Ssat erect and came on with the splenidid
horsemanahlp for which they were
a oted. Upon the collars of some of the
gray jackets could still be seen the
f ailed and tarnished gilt stars, the em
eblems of the wearers' na,.k.
" In front of them rode Lee. His two
L. hands held the looseely swinging reins
and rested upon the pommel. His
rhead was bent and his eyes were look.
lug straight ahead from under his
downcast brow, but they seemed to sea
I. Aa the troops csntered up to his ohi
home hi. horse stopped at the gate,
Sand he aroused himselIf suddenly. au
from a dream, and cast hia eyes upon
the familiar windows and then around
I over the group of gallant soldiers who
ahad Ifollowed his fortunes for four
bloody years and gone down In defeat
under his bansier.
The end of it all hadl come at last.
kHe threw himself from Iess horse, and
aall his compsanions followed his action.
oThey stood hat In hand, and an arm
0through the bridle rein, while
e Lee went from man to man,
grasping each hand, looking in.
Stesiynthv into each fare as though lie
mlwould press it upon his memory forever.
SThen in. turned and walked through the
Is gate and up the stepes to hsis door. As a
serveut opened the door be panned
with his left foot upon the veranda. bis
Sright upon the la-t step, and looked
h" ack for th. last time. Not a word
ý"had been spoken not a goos-b~v ntte'ret.
kThere was no sounn heardi but that of
solis as these unkempt and grizzled
heroes of a hundred battles leaned their
h eads against the shonlderi of their
loss in wpt.
n Lee gave one look, and broke down
at last. His hands went Qver his eyes
his frame~shook with sohas, as he turnesi
Squickly and disappeared into his ion.'.
lv house. Wit iheclosing of the door
behind him ended forever the wild
'~dream of the itouthern Confederacy.
Zuamia at th 6.ts..
From Charles Marvinms 'The Russians at tiN
Glate. oft Herat"
Our British Glenerals and the Gener
als of Russia value Herat, not solely on
account of the city, fbut on account of
the resources of the district in which it
is situated-resources in corn and beef,
which, if swept into any point of the
Herat district, not necessarily to Herat
itself, would feed an army of at least
110,0,tI30 men anid rustain them during
time final advance upon India. It iss this
greet camp aign grround, and not exclu
sively time town of Herat. that is thme key
of India. Itsa line lie drawn south of He
rat lit) miles to Funrrah, a second west
sevemnty miles to Kucan, on thme Persian
frontier, and a thirdl 121) miles north,
behind the points occupied by the lies
elans., a rough idea may be. borined of a
district as fertile as England through
out, and posse-msing marvelous mineral
resources. This is thme camping -ground,
this is the place of arms, which Itussis
wants In order that mime may lbe always
able to threaten India. Timers Is noc
such campIng-ground anywhere bie
tween tihe Caspian and Heist, and none
again between Herat and India.
Hence, not without reason have the
eblest Generals of England and Russia
designated the district the key of India.
The Russians are posted at the gate
of Herat; the English are postedlon
'the hills dominating the avenues to
Candahar. Between them lies the
Afghan barrier. That harrier, physi
cally, is of such s character that the
Russians could drive a four-in-hand from
their own Cossack outposts to ours,
and during the 549 mIles ride they
would pass ouly two towns on the road
Herat, with 610,000 and Osadahar, with
600,000 ppeoqple. There are bed roads in
Afghammistasm but they do not lie be
twee" the Russians sad the Engllsh.
There are fierce tribes, hat they lie the
thinnest between the Cuar's soldiers
and he uee's.There are patriotic
Afghans, btIthe lead mntimental and
th. most amenahle to European in
haence lie between the Cossack and the
Smkh. There are fearful mountains,
but they do not lie along the road I
mention. Horrible deserts exist, hut in
this -as thi most fertile parts of Af
ghanistan mark the route. In cue word,
there is no harrier at all between the
Russians and the English, lecept such
as we ourselves may try to create and
interpose to check the advance of the