Saint Mary's beacon. [volume], January 28, 1886, Image 1

About Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983

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( Sdint indrijs Bnicon.
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PUBLISHED BV YATES A KING, EVERY THURSDAY MORNIN&T ONE DOLLAR PER ANNUM IN ADVANCE. =
VOL. XLI. - LEON AUDIO WN, MD., THURSDAY MORNING jSaBY 28, im.
. . : • * . 2:2
ESTABLISHED 18.
JOkIAU n. 1> shoot.
31 X. t'nluu Sired,
ALEXANDRIA. VA
DEALER IN
Lumber. Shingle*, Ia Us
Duct* .iV UL
nrnmmnmmi m]i; -
Blinds.
Frames,
I, Inlciiird E*l:i*lrr
Lime, Hair- Ac.
a‘'iu<l Luinlx-r and flouring kept
under cover.
Sept 11, IS94—V-
I MOST respectfully inform the public that
I have just completed a new hearse and can
furnish
Coffins and Gaskets
of the latest styles. Glees white COFFINS
and CASKETS for children a specialty.
Al WHEELWUIGHTING and KLAC'ff-
SMITIIING in all their branches. Very
thankful for all past favors, 1 solicit a con
tinuance of the same.
i:i>W.4KD FACIA*.
Chaptico, St. Mary's county, Md.
Oct 2, 1884—tf
a. W CARROLL. * w buadlbt
CARROLL &, 4P.ADLEY.
y
general
- Commission Merchants
FOR THE SALE OF
Grain and all kinds of Country Produce,
No. 16 Camden Street.
BALTIMORE.
REFEHEXCES HT PERMISSION.
Judge C. F. Goldsborough. Cambridge, Md;
Hon. D. M. Henry. Cat abridge, Md.
T. J. Uail A Co., Baltimore, Md.
Hurst. P\;rnell A Co., Baltimore, Md.
R. R. Butler. Trappe.Md.
Dr. U. W. Houston. E N. Market, M l.
Nat. Fanners A Planters Bank, Baltimore.
Md.
Oct 19. 1983—yt
SEW coons;
SEW STOKE r
THE firm formerly known as Mrs. Blala k
Jones has mutually dissolved partnership
and will now be recognized as
Mrs L. A. JONES & CO.
Thanking our patrons for past favors, we
solicit a continuance of the same. Wo as
sure the public that our beet efforts shall be
made to keep a handsome and fashionable
assortment of all
pHLINERY,
kt g
<a
: FANCY A T
? DREB9 GOODS.®
®
Having just returned from Baltimore'with
a well assorted stock, we are prepared to ac
commodate the most fastidious customer.
Call and examine our stock.
Mrr L A. JONES A CO.
May 9. 1884—tft
R. A. GOLDEN,
GROCER AND
Coiiissieo Mgrcitant,
CORNER 10th and F NOS. 941 and 943
9. W.
OLD STAND WAREHOUSE
931 LOUISIANA AVENUE.
WASHINGTON, IX C.
Oct S, 79—tft
BOARDING.
Mas E, R Bsu. it cow prepared to ac
commodate permanent and transient board
ers at
Wim BALL. LEOIIBOTOWI,
at the follow a; r ttaa:
Breaktast and supper. ftSjMßto each.
Dinner, 35 -
,h rombuMd, He.
n. O. DCUI.ET. j. w. cAKI*ENTER.
V, . J. EOEUK.
DUDLEY & CARPENTEB.
GENKIiAL
Commission Merchants.
I
No. 57 Mght Street,
BALTIMORE.
Sri! Tnitnrro. 9 touts-
Iry t*t‘Oiiiice.
Particular to the carvfu
—*—
BALTIMORE WEEKLY SUN.
Tin brightest an<l B<st of Family Nt-wspa
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The Baltimore Wwklv Srs ha- long been
rwoiniizHi an tin- Meal Family Newspaper.
It contains tlu* News if the World: the
latest ami fullest Market, Commercial and
Monetary Import.*; Original and Practical
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Current Literature in I’octrv and Romance;
the most Attractive Things in the Realm of i
Fashion ; the most Useful and Ueantiful in
all that pertains to the Household; the
Cream of wit and Humor; the Events of
Every-day Life. Through its many and
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promptly made acquainted with events oo
ciiring in any quarter of th*- World. The
ample facilities of the Son tor obtaining by
Telegraph the News of the II World,and
it- large corjis of S|Hvial < ’orrespondents at
Washington, New York, Philadelphia, Bos
ton. Richmond and other leading cities, as
also its superior arrangements for securing
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it a complete Xewspa|ier, unsnrjvissial in
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its contemporarily. The Weekly Si x can
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the present time is more than e>uallv au
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ministration and diirifig the Sc.--i< ins of the
New Congress, be.-idL* the Legislative In
telligence of Maryland, Virginia and other
States, and the GjiAtra! News from every
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WEEKLY SUN.
y Term* Inrariably Ciuhiu Advance.
IWfmiM /■/ P"bli*hir "H Subscrip
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One dollar a copy for twelve months.
Premium copies to getters up of clubs for
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Five Copies $ 5 00
With an extra copy of the Weekly
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With an extra copy of the Weekly
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THE SUN,
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The safest method of transmitting money
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The Baltimore >rx Almanac, a valuable
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''t each year. It Is not for sale, nor is it
distributed except to subscribers of ‘'The
ot~xDaily ana Weekly, for whose benefit
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A. 9. ABELL A CO . Publisher*,
SUN IRON BUILDING
BALTIMORE, MD.
11ILOKDG.
THE under? igned respect tally informs his i
friend* ar.vl the public In general that he 1
ha* just received a large and beautiful
assortment of Good* for the purpose of sell
lag suits tv sample, which he will guaran
tee at Baltimore* price*. Persons wishing
to purchase, will do well by calling on him
before going elsewhere, Suits made up in
the latest styles and at the shortest notice.
C. W. A RMS WORTHY.
Tailor.
Sept 17,98—5n4
Ts • Lives.
Time laid bis land on the budding loaf;
11 turned to crimson,<hen bn>wo and gi d-L
lie li .uelieil the grain; ’twas a garnered shtaf,
A lad**a bin—and the year was dd.
You walked in the sun when time was
young;
! I grew in the shade, and was everld;
My life at least to the daylight sprung.
And yours — crept uudi r the graveyard
mold.
Two wavs, two lives, two leaves of years,
A sudden cloud, and a glare of sun.
Written in passion, erased in tears!
I- the chapter ended or but U*gun ?
—Makiox Max milk.
■t-W"" 1 ’ 1 ■ ■ ■■ CL" '■
HOP?.
It aw at a "meet” in the Roman
timt fir.d
saw Linda Lyle.
She was riding, as was he, and Le
never forgot tlie picture *he made as
she turned towards him in her sad
dle, the young blood mantling in her
clear cheeks, her eyes glistening, her
flaxen Lair, toughened by the wind
that swept the bread bare plain, es
caping in shining tendrils from under
her little jockey-cap. She was tie
incarnation of beautiful, innocent, joy
ous youth.
lie felt, with a thrill, as he looked
at her now, that she was changed since
then. It had not been so many
months ago, and yet Linda, child as
she looked at that moment, sitting on
the low hassock by the corner of the
wood-fire, that gave a gleam of home
like comfort to the great high-ceiled
Roman room, with its disabled old
furniture, had, by some subtle and in
definable difference, become a woman.
As though her thoughts had mysteri
ously fallen into a train
that of his, she looked tip, and said :
"To-morrow is my birthday. I shall
he seventeen. Is not that a respecta
ble age ?"
“To-morrow? Seventeen?" he re
peated. It flashed acroaa him that he
was ".•). “I am glad von told me."
"Oh, I didn’t mean— ’’ she faltered,
blushing suddenly all over her fair
throat and face. "I didn’t think— ’’
"You didn’t mean to remind me of
a present.” he laughed, filling up the
psuse.. "You didn’t think I would
take it so; and I did not. But you
did know—you ought to know—that
I should not have forgiven mvself if
the knowledge had not come to me in
some way.” He added in a moment:
“I ought to know everything that con
cerns you.”
The blush that had been fading out
of her cheeks came again at Ibis. She
turned her head away, a strange trem
ulous feeling of happiness stole over
her. She clasped her hand*, on her
low seat, about her knees. The leap
, ing firelight played on her delicate
lace. Her hair, in two beavv school
girl braids, bung down be r back to j
the floor, showing pale against the
plain black dress that followed the
outline of the slim girlish figure with
a sort of virginal simplicity.
W ith eager eyes Sebastian Dexter
dwelt upon the whole exquisite sil
houette, ardently following with his 1
gaze the soft curves of cheek, and
chin, and throat, the rounded outline
of the little ear, half hidden under the j
close clusteringhair, the upward curve >
of the long lashes that accented the |
heavy lids, the droop of the full lips, j
a trifle wistful, though the girl seemed
happy. Beyond their little fire-lit
circle the large old drawing room lay
in the gathering gloom of the deep
ening afternoon—a short winter af
ternoon. The dull rumble of carriages
on the Corso near by came through
j the stillness. Dexter would be going
I off to a dinner party presently.
Her mother would be going also.
But Linda, as not yet "out," might sit
there and entertain him a little while.
How many times had he blessed the i
worldliness of that mother, which
made it so more than probable, that, I
if a visitor came at this hour, she
would not be able to receive him.
Growing unaccountably nervous at
j the silence, Linda spoke of her moth
er now.
"Mamma seems so long dressing,"
she said, stirring a little testlcasly.
"I —yon will be tired waiting.”
She glanced shyly up at him from
under her full lids. How handsome
|he was ! And then, as her glance met
his. her eyes dropped again quickly.
1 "I want no one but you," he said.
His voice was boaiae, and its low
j too* seemed to pierce her through and
through. She made, by a blind im
pulse, an unconscious movement to
rise, but at the same moment be had
bent forward.
* "Linde!” Eia strong warm grasp
was upon her upon 1
her cheek. "Linda, do jMteva me? '
Slowly the heavy wflpia were !
raised. With the *hyJw®f a wo
man, and the of a
child combined, she isdßd up into
his ayes.
"Linda, Linda! came
the paseionata whisper Jpkin. The
man was white under The emotion '
that swayed him. He hapbent beck
the fair, golden head an Hsaa search
ing her face with bun RWyes that
devoured all iteawc*tneM"Tell me!
Do you love me, child
A low “yes," soft (A- breath,
aa the—A *al
crushed iu a sudden, fierce kiss. But
the next moment he had relinquished
ber, starting to his feet, and Linda,
swift as a deer, had glided out of the
room.
Sebastian Dexter did not staid there
by the mantel of that old finjit room
many minutea, but it aiwayi seemed
to him, as he looked back upon that
time in after years, like stme long
age. Everything about hits seemed
to have changed. The leapiig shad
ows upon the tapestried wills were
like weird images in som< strange
phantasmagoria. Tbe sudden silvery
six strokes of a Louis XVI. clock by
his side sounded, in the silence, like
the clinching of some irrevocable deed.
What was this that he had done.
He stood there in as great mortal ag
ony as ever man had to face, and yet
live through. In a mechanical dim
way it forced itself upon his conscious
ness that Mrs. Lyle might come is at
any minute. This made him stir. He
went through the long, suite of recap
tion rooms, where lamps were burn
ing on the old consoles, and throwing
a subdued light over the faded carp
ets, and brocade hanging? and paint
ings in dull frames, and in the ante
room found the servant.
“You will tell Madame Lyle I hap
pened to remember a pressing engage
ment, and could not wait to see her,"
he told tbe man, aa the latter held his
surlout for him. V*
Out into the narrow street, with
frowning old palaces on either side,
he went, and in a few moments was
on the Corso. It was all alight; a
few belated carriages were rolling in
divers directions. He bailed a pas
sing cab. His dinner party was at
0 30. He took his hostess’ band only
one minute before.
"If you had failed me 1" she mur
mured, raising a mock warning fing
er.
"Madame I"
"No; you are not suffering with a
death wound, and nothing short of
that would make such a crime on year
part possible. But you don’t know
what I have in store for you. You
shall take the English heiress and
beauty, Miss Blood, in to dinner. She
is to be your neighbor.”
A few seconds later Dexter was
seated beside Miss Blood, the heiress
and beauty. She was a faultlessly
perfect creature, and she talked well.
Dexter devoted himself as much a*
beseemed him; was brilliant, as usual;
acquitted himself faultlessly.
At 10 o'clock be took hie leave
and went to a ball at tbe French em
bassy. An hour later Mrs. Lyle, like
wise coming from a dinner party,
swept through the rooms, making a
little stir as she went. She was still
a very beautiful woman, and the held
her own against all competitors.
"Ah!" she said, pausing before
Dexter and lifting a heavy fan in ad
monition, "never ran away aa you did
this evening ! What was the matter?
Was my toilet too long an operation ?
Ah! yes. an engagement. So you left
word. I am afraid my little Linda
did not entertain you as well aa she
should."
Something in the way she lifted her
full, golden lashes—though they were
so unlike—reminded him of Linda.
He bowed with perfect ease, he
smiled, he made the proper remark,
but hia lips were white. He felt aa
though he could not look Miia woman
—light, frivolous, worldly as she waa
—in th# eye*.
"Lea beau Dezterre," said on* of
tbe French secretaries, a shrewd, am
iable-looking men with a gray mus
' tache, "is commencing to go down.
He dees not look as well as he used.
Harassed, driven, I don't know whet."
Hia companion, to whom he had
1 just given hie arm. waa Miss Blood,
arrived a moment before, also. She
looked at Dexter ns they passed. She
would not have been sorry to trims
fer her hand from the diplomat's coat
sleeve to his.
‘‘Do you know him ? But he is not;
English 11 pursued the Frenchman.
"No. He is American. I knew a
cousin of his once. They are from
Boston, I believe."
"Ah ! I have heard nothing of his
private history, except that they tell
me his family is among tbe best over
here," he added with naivete. "In
any cose, ha is very fortunate. Fam
ily, that is a thing not many Ameri
cans bring here. It u enough thsi
they have millions. like Mr. Dexterr*.
Betides being so beau garcon."
> ♦ * •
Very near tbe Gesu, in Rome, there
is a smaller church, inconspicuous
without, and within poor in compari
son to all those other countless ones
that hold enshrined some urpurcha
sable work of art, some priceless treas
ures. \et like many such another
church all over Italy, its mystic half
darkness, its incense, perfumed still
ness, had doubtless been a haven of
rest to many a weary, suffering, or
contemplative spirit that has wan
dered within its walls from out of
the garishbusile of theeverydav world.
Linda Lyle, though a Protestant,
had taken a habit of stepping inside
this little church on certain davs in
the week, when, with her old Italian
maid, she returned from her Italian
lessons at the house of an elderly and
impoverished countess in the same
street. On the afternoon following
the ball at the French embassy Dex
ter was making his way thither. It
was one of the days of Linda s lessons,
and some instinct told him she would be
more sure than ever to enter the lit
tle church that day.
He knew all the most trivial inci
dents of her life. He could have
laughed at the boyish eagerness with
which he had learned them all, if
laughter had evermore seemed a thing
which could pass bis lips. As he
lifted tbe heavy curtain on entering
a youngish priest was passing out. He
had a passionate, yet ascetic face. For
a second he raised his eyes to Dex
ter's. Something in the latter for a
moment arrested him. A fellow-feel
ing in his soul said : "This man, too,
has suffered."
Suffered ! Daring the long night
watches when he had paced his room
it had seemed to Dexter that he had
gone through purgatory. What was
left now of the passion, the remorse,
the wild battling with temptation to
do a desperate deed at whatever haz
ard was a dull iron apathy. Yes. she
was there at the entrance of one of the
aide chapels, tbe old woman'ne&r her.
Presently they moved to go out, and
he stepped out of the gloom near the
column whet* he had been leaning
with folded arms. She started at
sight of him, her sweet face suffused
with a divine blush.
Tbe old woman fell back. She had
never known her young lady to have
any such adventure before. But what
will you ? Youth will be youth. She
hud not forgotten her own romantic
days.
"Linda, atop a moment; I want to
to speak to you."
They were alone in the partial se
clusion of the side-chapel. A light
burned dimly on the flower-decked
alter. In another part of the church
a muffled voice had commenced in
toning vespers to a handful of wor
shippers.
"Linda, I asked you last night if
you loved me. I bad no right." The
sentences, hard, abrupt, unmodulated,
fell from bis lips without change or
tremor of a muscle. "I am married
already."
He stopped. Linda waa standing
with loosely-clasped hand* a little
away from him. She mad* no move
ment, no outcry. These two might
have been talking of tbe commonest
things. But the change that came
over her face converted it from warm
pink-tinged whiteness to a doll gray
hue—from the countenance of a hap
py girl to that of a blighted woman.
The metamorphosis was more trag
ic than any words, than any cry could
i have been. It cut through D*xter'a
benumbed consciousness like the lash
of a whip.
"Linda I" hs said hoarsely, the veins
swelling on his forehead, "don't look
like that; you will kill me!"
He mad* as though he would have
•treched his hand toward her. She
shrank back a little.
"No; please don't."
The voice was not more than •
whisper. Tae monotoeous chanting
still went on. To the end of his lif
Dexter never heard an intoned service
without a shiver.
She turned slowly, but ha made a
strida forward. Ha stood in her wav.
All his paatioaa—an agony of despair,
an agony of ioaa—were unchained.
"You shall rot go from meao 1 Lis
ten, at Uast, to my vindication. Good
God ! such a vindication as it is ! The
woman whom I married years ago, aa
a wild boy, was not worthy— *wa* such
as you, poor innocent child, cannot
know. When I found out, when I
woke from my mad act, I would have
divsissd uvmU frott -We. I wall),
but I bad not the courage.
“I shrank from the publicity, from
the exposure of my youthful folly-, from
the m.re through which mv peop’re’j
good name and mine would drag
ged. In my pnde I covered it all up.
1 lelt her. I supported her and paid
her to kN>p away. She is now—what,
I cannot tell such as you, child. No
one knows my secret; but she is liv
ing. And I—l deliberately stole your
love, Linda, touched your pure lips
with mine. But you may at least
know how mad I was. How I loved
you—”
She raised her hand with a faint
checking motion. lie bowed his head.
"True. I have not the right to tell
you of my love. The very word from
me is pollution. But Linda, Linda!’’
His heart hunger was in his eve* and
voice. "You will at least say good
bye !”
“Good-bye.”
He put out his band. Hers drop
ped at her side. She turned. She
was gone. His hand dropped also.
She had not touched it. W’ell! what
else had he expected ?
He reeled into the rapidly darken
ing streets as one drunk or dazed.
The chanting went on, reached his ear
in muffled far away strains, sad as the
wailing of lost spirits as the curtain
swung back in its place. That even
ing he was leaving in the night train
northward about 11 o'clock. A late
moon, pale and misshapen, rose in a
clear sky as the train whizzed and
flew through the dark stretches of the
Pontine marshes. But before his eves
there was one face, blanched, blighted,
all the youth and hope and gladness
crushed from it forevermore, and he
knew that so he should see it, with an
endless agony of remorse, waking and
sleeping, through all the coming years.
*
How the Wars Begin.— " Papa,
how do nations get into war with each
other?” asked Tomtnv Seasonbv.
"Sometimes one way, sometimes
another," said the father. "Now,
there are Germany and Spain—they
came near getting into war because a
Spanish mob took down the German
flag.”
"No, my dear," put in Mr?. Seaton
by, "that wasn't the reason.”
"But, my darling,” said Mr. 9.,
"don't you suppose I know? You are
mistaken. Thai was tbe reason."
"No, dearie, you are mistaken. It
was because tbe Germans—”
"Mrs. Seaaonby, I say it was be
cause—”
"Peleg, you know better. You are
only trying to-—"
“Madam, I don't understand that
your opinion was asked in this matter,
anyway.”
"Well, I don't want my boy in
structed by an old ignoramus."
"See here, you impudent—"
"Put down your cane, you old
brute. Don't you dare brittle up to
me or I'll sen’d this rolling-pin at
your head, you old—"
"Never mind," interrupted Tommy,
"I think I know how wars begin."
This is an era when much at
tention is being given to questions
bearing upon physical health. Ameri
cans bare long ago earned the title of
being a race of dyspeptics, and num
berless formulas have been prepared
to correct tbe various diseases of the
stomach, but the real panacea has
been found in Dr. Henley’s Celery,
Beef and Iron. It combine* so many
virtues that if ths system is not entire
ly disabled by disease a practical cure
is sure to fol.ow. It is tbe greatest
nervine known, a blood tonic and in
▼igurator. All druggists sell it.
Ml- Magistrate—Tbe serious charge
of chicken atealing is preferred against
you. Uncle Rastue.
Uncle Hastes—do da indictment say
chicken steelin', vo hoaah?
Magistrate— Ye*.
Uncle Ra*tue—Deo de indictment
am deteoktiv*. yo' honab. It vaa a
turkey I etole. i demand a babeia
corpus ai.d takes advantage b de
teckoukicalitiMobdelaw—N. Y. Buo.
They Had Met Before.—A few
Ja> a ago a grey-haired old man was
in one of the hotels of Centraiiia, LI.,
when a stranger get elf a train which
bad juat arrived, and passed through
lh waiting room. Ha avail the old
man closely, and over tba fact of tba
latter there dashed a look of recog
nition.
“Pardon me,” said tba at ranger,
“your face baa a familiar look, yet 1
cannot place you. Pei haps lam tuie
taken.”
“Oh, no," raid tba elderly gentle*
man. “I know you *ri not mistaken.
I knew like a book."
°ftteadr
• \es, ?ir, Y c>u need lo board with
me.”
“Is it poaaiUc?” asked the stran
ger.
'nr; and you left without
paying your board."
“That, sir, cannot be," was the in*
dignaut man s answer, as be became
more and more confused.
“And," continued the old man,
‘you loft in the night and neglected
to take your luggage."
By this time the stranger was furi*
oua. He grew red with anger and
intimated*ihat only the gray hairs of
his tormentor saved him from violent
treatment.
“Oh, you needn’t get mad," aaid
the old gent remaining provokingly
cool. “You did all these things, and
I can prove it."
“See here old man, who are you,
and where are you from.
“I sir. ara Capt. Jack Warner and
you are Quartermaster Murphy, and
you escaped from Libby while I was
Quartermaster of that institution."
“My God?’ . was the stranger’s ejac
ulation. as he warmly clasped tba
hand of the ex rebel. "Are you, in
deed, (he old commissary? Well, I
did board with you a while, and I
gave you the slip, too,” he laughingly
continued.
Quartermaster Murphy belonged to
a Now York regiment, and was cap
tured and sent to Libby. It was the
practice of the rebels to allow pris
onora who had been twactitioners of
medicine to attend the sick in the
prison hospital. They were given
the freedom of the prison, to come
and go at will.
One day a green sentry would not
allow these men to pass, when he was
sharply reprimanded hy Capt. Gibbs,
and was told that those men who wore
red ribbons on the lapels of their coats
should pass unmolested.
Murphy overheard this and took
advantage of it. He had some red
lining in his vest, and tearing off a
strip, he pinned the physician's ensig
ni* on his coat and watcLi g an oppor
tunity, he got past the guard and es
caped into the Union lines.
He Had the Bait.—Human nature
is swayed hy mixed motives. Even
an act that appears disinterested may
be prompted by selfishness. An
amusing illustration of this fact is
given in the following anecdote;
An aged negro aat on one of tha
old wharves at Salem, fishing. A
colored boy was sitting beside him,
eagerly watching the bob as it danced
up and down. Suddenly tha bob went
under. Tha boy in bis excitement
learned so far over the edge of the
wharf that he lost hit balance and fell
into the water.
Instantly the old man dropped hi*
fishing-pole and jumped into the wa
ter for the boy, and after a good deal
of splashing and sputtering, with the
help of several men on the wharf, both
were hauled out, gasping for breath.
One of the men who had helped
them expressed his admiration for the
negro's courage.
“That wae a brave deed cf yours,
my man. * said ha.
“What dat?" asked the disciple of
Walton. ahe want to pick up hie
rod.
“Why, your jumping in to save that
boy."
“Dat boy I I doan keer nuffin fer
him! But be gut all de bait in bio
poeketl"
An enthusiastic fisherman will, we
are sure, appreciate the force and
grim humor of that reply.
BW The retention of any waste
matter in the system produces injury.
The collection of "phlegm" or diseased
mucus in time of cold or throat affec
tion should be promptly removed Dr.
Bull'eCough Sy rupdoea it more quickly
and effectoally than any other cough
syrup male.
■gU ‘ Say pa; listen : ‘When Free
dom from her mountain height un
furled her banner to the air.' What
do they call Freedom ‘her’ f>r ?" quer
ed a San Jose boy who wae learning the
pie to apeak at a school exhibition.
"You are too young to understand.
Wait till you get married, my aon.”
“Thank heaven." excUioed a
fond lather as he paced the the d v>r
at midnight web hi howling heir,
“thank heaven you are not twine I"