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New Ulm review. (New Ulm, Brown County, Minn.) 1892-1961, January 31, 1894, Image 3

Image and text provided by Minnesota Historical Society; Saint Paul, MN

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn89081128/1894-01-31/ed-1/seq-3/

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Women
Will Vote
as usual at the next school election
butfor many candidates. Theygiv
a unanimous vote—every day in thi
week—in favor of
KIM'S
WHITE RUSSIAN
because they know it has no equal as a
labor and temper saver on wash-day.
The "White Russian" is a great soap to
use in hard or alkali water. Does not
roughen or injure the hands—is per
fectly safe to use on the finest fabrics.
JAS. S. KIRK & CO., Chicago.
Dusky Diamond Tar Soap. "^StfSsSKtf*
handles nothing but the purest—
edicines
A full stock of PERFUMES. TOI
LET ARTICLES, SOAPS, STA*
TIONERY and SCHOOL SUPj
PLIES constantly on hand.1
Standard PAINTS & OIL, VAR-
NISHES BRUSHES and GLASS.
For a good smoke try our leading
nickel cigars.
UB IWlt
Mardian Block
New Ulm. Minn
F.BURG
'Manufacturer of and Dealer in
CIGARS,
TOBACCOS
PIPES.
Corner Minn, and Centre Str.
New Ulm Minn
lotin Hauenstein
er»
Our brewery is one of the I ir
the west. It is silso splendidly equipped
and the product is of the finest cjiudity.
Ask for Hnuen-itein's beer if you want a
good-tasting healthful drink."
W
BREWER
NEW
fNS
AND MALSTER
ULM. MINN.
This brewery is one of the largest establishments
oi lis kind in the ftiinuesoi a Valley and is fitted op
with all the modern improvements. Keg and bot
tle beer furnished to anj part of the city on short,
notioe. My bottle beer is especially adapted lb
family use.
Country brnwers and others that buy malt will
hnd to their inteiest to place their orders with me
All orders by mall will receive my prompaltes
tion,
OTTO SCHELL, Manager.
NO IRRITATION.
THE PKOCTES &. GAM3LE CO., C1NTI.
DO YOU KNOW
TR. FELIX LE BRUM'S
STEFLII PEPYBOYfL FII
are the original raid onlr FRENCH, safe and re
liable cure on-1 Le market. Price S1.C0: srnt k&
mail. Genuine sold oiJy by
O. M. Olsen Druggist, New
MAIDEN'S LIPS.
One day •when Mother Nature
Was in a pleasant mood
She called about her Youth and Health
And others of her brood.
"My children, we have fashioned.
With all the arts we know.
The rose and all the fairest flowers
That in our garden grow.
"But I'm not satisfied, dears.
I have within my heart ...
The image of a fairer flower.
That calls for all our art.
Your skill and aid I need, dears.
Yours, Joy and Melody,
And Beauty, Youth and Sunshine too.
Come, now, and toil with me."
Long time they toiled, Dame Nature
And all her offspring too.
Their hearts and souls were in their
task,
And fast the flowret grew.
Now Nature's fingers molded.
Now Laughter smoothed and curved
And brightened up some little spot
Her keen eyes had observed.
And Health'and Youth and Sunshine
Their tribute deftly paid
Till Mistress Beauty took her turn.
And then the flower was madel
"There's not so sweet," cried Nature,
"A flower the wild bee sips.
We'll name it!" And the flowret
Was called—a maiden's lips.
—Boston Traveller.
SHE WAS PRETTY.
I had stated my intention of going to
see Miss Kitty clearly enough, hut in
doing so I had no very fixed idea as to
what I should do when I did see her,
and in fact I was entirely nonplused by
the whole situation.
I determined to retire to my ham
mock and think over matters in gen
eral. As 1 lay there, swinging lightly
over the water, and with the distant
sound of the weir lulling my senses
pleasantly, it is not to be wondered at
that I fell into dreamy reverie.
Old half forgotten recollections came
thronging upon me of little flaxen
haired Kitty, whom I used to torment
and laughingly ask to be lny little
wifie, nearly a dozen years ago, when
she was a little chit of 10 of her father,
my old friend John Dobson, who used
to say in his sober business way, "And
so she shall be, Mildenhall, if I can help
you, and you care to have her when she
is grown up of that quaintly touching
clause in poor Dobson's will by which
he had done all that lay in his power to
help me.
And I, engrossed in turning over
money in the city, had clean forgotten
all about her!
I was aroused by the sound of voices
and looked round. There, in the very
identical place where Mr. Bob Tyncker
had done his extremely futile fishing in
the morning, he and Kitty were sitting
and talking.
"And so the old fellow—and a queer
old fellow he is, too," Mr. Bob was say
ing, "will be round at the house this
very afternoon to see about claiming
your hand."
"Oh, Bob!" said Kitty, trembling.
"I say, Kitty," said Bob mischiev
ously, "suppose he really wants to stick
to his old idea of making you his little
wifie, eh? What shall you do then?"
"Oh, Bob, don't," said poor Kitty.
"He has been such a bugbear to me late
ly that—that"—("that there is a dan
i, ger of a young lady shedding tears at
the very mention of his name," 1
thought to myself grimly, for Kitty did
I not seem to be able to complete the sen
tence herself).
"Never mind, Kitty," said poor Bob,
hugging her tenderly. "I am a brute to
have suggested such an idea. If he
1
doesn't refuse to have you, why, you will
just have to refuse him, you know, and
that will bring the whole matter to the
usual way of doing things, from a young
lady point of view, you see."
"Soit will," said Kitty, brightening
up once more "but, Bob, then the $25,
000 will have to go to the Methodist
chapel, and that is just the very thing
that has been making uncle so terribly
savage."
Let him be," said Bob stoutly. It
won't hurt us after today you will be
free then, you see, and marry whoever
you like. And we have plenty to set up
housekeeping on between us, witnout
the beastly money—let him be angry if
he likes."
"And so he is, sir," shouted Mr. Dob
son suddenly, poking his head over the
top of the bank. "So he is! It would
make a saint savage to be set at defiance
in this way. I begin to think"
"Stop!" I called out, rising hastily
in my hammock.
Splish! Somebody had fallen into the
water.
Me, by Jove, and so I began striking
out lustily on all sides, with hands,
feet, fingers, elbows—1 cannot exactly
call myself a swimmer—and getting my
boots above water more frequently than
my head, I am afraid, till I was sud
denly grasped by the collar firmly.
"Keep cool," said my young friend
Bob Tyncker authoritatively—for he
it was—nimbly swimming on his back
with two legs and one arm, and draw
ing me after him with the other. Keep
cool I've got you all right!"
"Cool it is!" I thought to myself, my
spirits reviving as I felt myself towed
along—right across the river! For Bob,
it seems, like a retriever—he certainly
swam as well as one—would not con
descend to lay me anywhere but at the
very feet of his mistress.
"There at last! hurra"
An overwhelming rush of water
across my face cut short my self con
gratulation I was fairly under, in fact.
And the remarkably unpleasant
thought flashed upon me that 1 was
driving down under the dipping bush.
But a spasmodic jerk from Tyncker
brought me.to the top once more, and
as I gasped for breath I heard his voice:
"Shift for yourself—catch hold of the
bush—I'm going!"
I caught the branches as high up as
possible and got a glance behind me.
Tyncker was not only going—he was
gone, diving down under the bush, hav
ing sacrificed himself to keep me from
a like fate.
I saw his face disannearinsr beneath
Che water I beard the despairing cry of
Kitty from the bank, and letting go my
own hold with one hand -I thrust down
and caught the poor fellow's collar and
turned a remarkably wild eye to the on
lookers.
The old gentleman was helplessly
shouting and running to and fro, but I
saw his niece rapidly unknotting from
her waist that heavy scarf of gold which
she had worn all day. Then, like a
flash of fire in the sunlight, one end
leaped out at me. Well thrown! The
embroidered fringe fell across the
branches and over my wrist. Quick as
thought I had quitted my useless clutch
on the yielding twigs, and with a con
vulsive leap in the water had got a dou
ble turn of the scarf about my wrist.
Of course I went under, but with a
mind fully made up upon two points—
that nothing but death should tear me
from my hold upon that scarf of
course not!—and that if ever I was to be
pulled out alive Tyncker should come
too.
I don't know how long I held my
breath—an age, I fancy, and then a
rush of fire swept across my vision. I
was gone—it struck me forcibly—a
burning, exhilarating sensation in my
throat, and the sound of a voice speak
ing, as it seemed, many miles away.
The voice drew close to me at a
bound, .and opening my eyes I saw
some one stooping over me, brandy flask
in hand and an expression of horror on
his face. That expression instantly van
ished as he caught my gaze.
"This one is all right, Kitty he is
coming round fast. Here, take the flask
and give Tyncker some more brandy!
Cheer up: h») will be all right in a min
ute."
Some suspicious sounds in my im
mediate neighborhood caused me to turn
my head feebly in the direction whence
they were proceeding, and then I knew
everything.
Of course' We had been in the river
and had been pulled out again! For
there, on his back, even as I lay on
mine, lay Mr. Bob Tyncker, and on her
knees beside him, bending low over his
face, was Miss Kitty Dobson. And the
golden scarf—sadly changed for the
worse—lay midway between us.
One glance was sufficient to assure
me that Mr. Bob Tyncker was nearly as
far advanced on the road to recovery as
I was myself, and that Miss Kitty held
a most exalted opinion of his late ex
ploit. They made a pretty picture.
But the old gentleman's face grew
cloudy as he looked at it. He leaned
over me in irritated silence, brandy
flask in hand, and I thought it was time
to speak.
"How are you, Dobson?" I said, with
a faint smile. I am afraid you don't
recognize me in this draggled condition,
but"
"Why, so it is!" exclaimed the old
gentleman. "It's Mildenhall! Why,
how do you come to be down here? 1
say," he continued in a sort of stage
whisper, and with a troubled look at
the others, I am very glad yon have
come. I'm half afraid, as it is, you are
too late."
"Too late for what?" I asked, trying
to sit up and presently succeeding.
"Why, that!" he whispered testily,
and nodding his head in a disturbed
way in the direction of the young peo-
WHS new,
pie. "Man, don't yon recollect that ™to the rooms with a dozen-trnn....
yoa were to have the first say in that
sort of thing?"
"Sol was," I rejoined, "and I will
speak to Kitty at once."
"Good!" said Mr. Dobson, looking
much relieved at my alacrity and call
ing the young lady. "Come here, Kit
ty this gentleman here wants to speak
to you. Mr. Mildenhall, Kitty," he
explained grimly.
It was a very limp hand that I man
aged to get hold of and shake as heart
ily as I could.
"You see that I have lost no time in
coming down to see you, Kitty," I said,
holding her hand the while, and think
ing it best to plunge at once in medias
res. "You reach the age of 20 today,
don't you?"
"Yes," said poor Kitty faintly, and
trying feebly to get her hand away, but
I still held on. "There is something in
a certain will which concerns you and
me. I want to talk to you about it."
"Yes?" whispered poor Miss Kitty,
still more faintly and with another fee
ble and futile attempt to draw her hand
from mine. "Would not some other
time—when you are dry?"
"No, my dear," I said. I would
rather do it now. You are a very pret
ty girl and a very brave and clever one,
and you have just saved my life with
your scarf, as I realize very plainly, so
that you will always hold a very dear
place in my heart.
"And so I came to the conclusion"—
I couldn't help pausing a moment to
enjoy her consternation—"that I will
have nothing more to do with you or
your hand, however earnestly you may
offer it to me' '—letting it go at last. *'I
reject you entirely and hand you over
to that young villain—whom I hope to
call my friend for the rest of my life—
Mr. Bob Tyncker. "-^-Temple Bar.
A Long Sleep.
The longest continuous cataleptic
Bleep known to medical science was re
ported from Germany in the spring of
1892 the patient—a Silesian miner—
having remained absolutely unconscious
for a period of 4£ months. The doc
tors in attendance could not report any
thing in the way of symptoms which
would suggest that there was something
put of the ordinary in the manJs slum
fcers, excepting a complete rigidity of
the limbs. One peculiarity which was
much commented upon was that the
hair grew naturally during the whole of
the extended nap, but his beard remain
ed perfectly stationary and lifeless.—St.
Louis Republic.
Bostoniana.
Mamma—Now, dear, the doctor's
gone what can I do to-amuse you?
Emerson (aged 5, wearily)—If you
please, mother, I think I should like to
go to sleep and reduce my temperature.
!Fact.i—Voeue. w-
What I want to tell—and it won't
take long to tell it in my dry fashion—
is the story of old Browne's courtship.
I make my living by keeping the cash
accounts of a big Market street whole
sale house, and Browne is the man
whose desk is next to mine in the count
ing room. Our salary is about the same,
and although be is two years younger
than I am, I being 51 now, we both
have held the same positions for 20
years. Browne weighs more than 200
pounds, and I weigh a trifle less.
Mrs. Burke, who is Edith's mother,
came to me this summer and had quite
a long talk with me about her personal
affairs. She said that her late husband's
estate was pretty much entangled, and
that to keep her present establishment
on Arch street going she would have to
rent some of the handsome rooms in the
house to boarders. Of course she didn't
want to do that, and of course I depre
cated the plan, but in the end it turned
out that,we both had to give in.
Old Browne rented the second story
front rooin the day after I told hir
about it. He had been living away
town, and he was glad to get a
nearer to the office, besides enjoys
the social prestige which geogr:
conditions could give him. He
Three comrades walked with me when life Yonand I are old friends, and yon will
And one was Youth, whose brow from care was
free
The second one was Joy, who danced and song
The other, Hope. These left me company
Until a day whea Youth "farewell" did say
And left me at a turning of the way.
Fair Hope walks with me still, bnt keeps her
eyes
Lifted to where the hills of heaven shine,
And Joy (whose other name is Peace), remains.
Though in her face I see a light divine.
But well I know, when past earth's toil and
pain,
Sweet Youth, once lost, will then be mine
again1
—Helen Percy in Good Housekeeping.
A LOVE AFFAIE.
The girl 1 am going to tell you about
is rather pretty, and her name is Edith.
She has dark hair, and her eyes are blue,
and she dresses well. She has been
graduated from a seminary of good re
pute, and her disposition is amiable to a
degree which more than a year ago
brought all the young-men of the neigh
borhood at her feet. I think she won a
tennis championship in singles some
where last year, but I am not certain
about that. What I can recall among
her most pronounced accomplishments
I will put down here later on. I met
her so long a time ago that I have for
gotten the circumstances of our meet
ing, but I guess they were of the ordi
nary sort. I live two doors from her
house, and I drop in to see her and Mjs.
Burke at least once a week. Even her
marriage, which hurt me so much at
the time, did not separate us for very
long, and I think I have lived to forget
my first rash determination never to
look upon her face again. I called the
night of the wedding, and I have been
calling regularly ever since. I am be
ginning to believe that it was a good
thing, after all, that she didn't marry
me.
a wealth of brio-a-brac, which* to
mind, did not become his age, Mi.
Burke was glad to accept the reference
to me which he gave her, and Edith
smiled upon him when she gave him his
night key.
I thought a good deal of Edith, and
every night or two we played cards in
her mother's rooms. She and I played
partners against young Bob Smith and
Mrs. Burke.. We were pretty evenly
matched, too, for Bob played a stiff
game of whist, and 1—well, you may
remember that I was one of the Pente
cost club's prize team last fall. Edith
and I won most of the games, though,
for Bob was too infernallj' lazy ever to
do anything well. And then he never
seemed to mind it if he lost.
The presence of old Browne annoyed
me a great deal, and I don't mind say
ing so. About a week after he took his
rooms there I found him occupying my
seat at the whist table when I called.
He was fumbling the cards in his awk
ward fashion, and Edith was laughing
at him. Bob was engaged in giving an
imitation of me telling a war story, and
even Mrs. Burke was approving the ri
diculoust proceedings. I coughed, and
that stopped the game, but I was un
comfortable all the evening. But Bob
had the good sense to apologize, but old
Browne simply tittered for an hour over
what he seemed to consider a good joke
on me.
After that all my affairs seemed to
go wrong, and I began to seriously con
sider whether I shouldn't rent every
room in Mrs. Burke's house myself. I
was actually contemplating this propo
sition,one night in my own apartments,
smoking my last bowl of tobacco the
while, when the colored girl who waits
on the door said that a man had called
to see me. I have few callers, and I
thought it might be Mr. Phipps, the
managing partner of my house, whom I
had invited to come to see me more tham
a month ago.
With this idea in mind I told the girl
to delay the man below stairs for a mo
ment while I slipped into other clothes.
Then the dcor opened, and old Browne
came ambling in. I was disgusted on
the instant, but I managed to conceal
my real feelings and invited him to be
seated. He looked all around him to
lee if I was alone, set his hat on the
floor and then accepted my invitation
with a kind of sigh.
"Thank you," he said, "I only want
to see you for a moment."
I offered him a pipe, and he declined
it. I told him my cigars were out.
"It doesn't make any difference," he
said. "I'd rather not smoke. I came
here to ask you some things about the
Burkes."
The Lord only knows how I looked at
him as he hesitated fox a moment.
"I have seen enough of them," he'
went on, "to believe that they are per-
fectly respectable, people—otherwise I
would not have taken lodging there'.
take away even the slight doubt there
is in my mind. Are Jthey perfectly re
spectable?" *r
Somehow or other 1 managed to nod
my head, but his presumption was par
alyzing me.
"Thank you again," he proceeded.
"The reason that I asked you is that I
am going to marry Edith."
It took me a couple of minutes to
master my emotions, but I am proud to
say I did it. My reply was cool—al
most chilly.
"Indeed!" I said. •'Has she accept
ed you?"
"No, because 1 haven't proposed yet.
I have given the matter a good deal of
thought, but before 1 took so serious a
step in my life I waited some such wise
old head as yours to advise me. Now
I am happy, arM we'll get married at
once."
He shook bands with me, and the old
idiot didn't notice that 1 failed to re
spond. At the door I managed to ask
him this question:
"What makes you believe she'll have
you?"
He seemed astonished.
"Have me!" he repeated. "Why,
she's been after me ever since she knew
me. I'll settle it tomorrow evening."
As he turned the stairs I noticed that
he had on a suit of new clothes, a white
vest and a red necktie. He said some
thing about feeling like a schoolboy,
and I rushed back to my room more af
fronted than I had ever been before in
my life. I can always think best when
I am in bed, and so I undressed and got
under covers very quickly. When E had
thought diligently for an hour, I turned
over and said this to myself:
1
"The old fat beast! The idea of her
I marrying him! I'll propose myself to
her tomorrow morning. She has been
expecting it, I know, for a long time."
I didn't sleep very well and arose a
little after 7 o'clock. It took me an
hour to dress myself, and having no ap
petite for breakfast 1 only drank a cup
of strong coffee. I then walked nearly
a mile before 1 had decided what to
say and was barely satisfied with the
result. Edith was the sort of a girl to
be particular about such things, and 1
wanted to please her fancy.
Mrs. Burke came to the door and was
just as much surprised to see me as I
thought she would be.
"It was very good of you to come so
soon, "she said, "and I didn't think you
knew it yet."
"Knew what?" said I.
She pulled me inside the hall and
looked at me, half smiling and half
tearful.
"Didn't you come to—er—congratu
late anybody?"
Then I sat down on the hatrack and
shook my head. I felt that it was all
over, and that old Browne had won, and
never in my life did I suffer so much
misery in so small a space of time.
"Then," said Mrs. Burke, I am glad
*o be able to inform you myself. Edith
Bob are engaged to be married."
arose and sat down again. I thought
many things, but only one sentence
jtruggled through my lips.
"Does—does old Browne know about
it?" I asked.
"Oh, yes, but it won't interest him.
Before he went down town this morn
ing he told me that he would have to
give up his room on account of the snn
shining in it too brightly in the morn
ing. I'm going to turn the whole bous
now over to Edith."—R.
Philadelphia Times.
Texan Hospitality.
"The latchstring hangs out," ex
pressed the hospitality of the southern
frontier in the days "before the war."
If a traveler rode up before the fence
that separated the log cabin from the
road, he was greeted by, 'Light, stran
ger, 'light!"# Without this salutation
no one dismounted, but it was rarely
withheld. Mr. Williams, in his book,
"Sam Houston," thus describes the im
pulse of hospitality, which made every
traveler a guest, during the early settle
ment of Texas:
The traveler who rode up to the front
fence was instantly invited to alight.
His horse was staked out or hobbled to
feed on the prairie grass, and the vis
itor sat down to exchange the news with
his host. The coffee mill was set go
ing, if there were any of the precious
grains in the house, and the hopper in
the hollow log to grinding the corn.
The venison or bear meat was put on
the coals, and the ash cake baked.
After the meal and the evening pipe,
the visitor stretched himself on a buf
falo robe on the floor with the members
of the family and slept the sleep of
health and fatigue. In the morning the
response to any inquiry as to the charge
was, "You can pay me by coming
again."
The story that a certain hospitable
settler used to waylay travelers on the
road and compel them to visit him at
the muzzle of a double barreled shot
gun was only a humorous exaggeration
of the instinct for hospitality which
characterized the community.
The visitor was a living newspaper,
who brought the only news obtainable,
and was a welcome relief to the monot
ony and loneliness of the wilderness.—
Youth's Companion.
Reflected Light.
A dead white surface has decided ad
vantages for reflecting light over a look
ing glass or a bright surface. Good
white blotting paper reflects back 82
per cent of the light cast upon it. Many
persons are under the impression that
looking glass must be a better reflector
than paper or whitewashed surface be
cause with looking glass a strong shad
ow can be cast, while from a dead sur
face no heavy shadow is obtained.
The reason is not so much that the re
flected light is less from the dead sur
face, but that the reflection is concen
trated in the case of the looking glass.
With paper or whitewash it proceeds
from a vast number of points,—Brook
lyn Citizen,,
CHILD BIRTH
MADE CASYl!F
"MOTH«S'F*IEMD" is a scientific
allyprepared Liniment, everyingre
dient of recognized value and in
constant use by the medical pro* ',
fession. These ingredients arecom*
"MOTHERS*nbinedinamannerhitheftounknow
FRIEND":
WILL DO all that is claimed for ^~t€
it AND MORE. It Shortens Labor,
Lessens Pain, Diminishes Danger to V-^
Life of Mother and Child. Book
to MOTHERS mailed FREE, con
taining valuable information and
voluntary testimonials.
teat by express on receipt of price 11.60 per bottle
BRADFIELO REBULMOR CO., Atlanta, tftu
60U BY ALL D&UGKUBT&
Win. Frank. John Benizin.
DaKota
?*M
Custom grinding solicited. Will grind
wheat for (one eigth) or exchange 34 iM
lbs. flour, 5 lbs shorts and 5 Bbs. bran
for one bushel of wheat. Flou: and feed Igjjg
sold at low pric sand delivered at New
Ulm free of expense.
U-J
Frank &Bentzin
tALER-
LUMBER,
LATHS, SHINGLES, DOORS
SASH, BLINDS
-And all kindi «f-
Building Material
NEWULM MINN,
[TBlNCHAM^Bn'OS.'J
DEALERS IN
Ialg$3tAb$P»
Laths,Shingles,Doors, SasH and
Blinds, Lime, Adament and
Coal.
0 Lowest Prices always 0 0
New Ulm, Minn.
J-fcmse+
OPP. POST OFFICE—NEW ULM, MINN.
IT)T?S
/p fceifei? ]§ptvp.
This housi .sthe most centrally lecated
hotel the city affords".
Good Sample Rooms.
house
Cramer in
Vt)ior) JioleL
WENZEL SCHOTZKO, Proprietor.
inn. Str. New Ulm inn.
The only first class brick fire-proof
Hotel in the city.
Commercial Hotel,
Opposite Depot.——
I will serve a hot and cold lunch everj
morning, and at the same time the fines:
line wines, liquors and cigars will al
ways be found on hand. I will endeay
or to accommodate everybody to thj
best of satisfaction, hoping to always ei
tend and improve the place.
Chas. Stengel. 1
WM. PFAENDEB
Real Estate and Insurance Agi
Fire, Tornadoes, Hail, Life, Accidet
Plate Glass and Live Stock Insuran.
placed in reliable companies.
Real Estate bought and sold. Loa
negotiated on farm property. Passa
tickets sold on best steamship lineg.
and from Europe. $—
Documents of all kinds executed
acknowledged. :f||
S XABX RKOISTttZP.]
"INDAP
A E A W
&
ss^sssggt&seuss
SOLD at Andrew '}. Eckstein's Pioneer I
Store, NEW ULU, MINN., and other lew
druggists.

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