Newspaper Page Text
THE TELEGRAPH, ■A. WEEKLY NEWSPAPER, PUBLISHED EVERT THURSDAY SCORN ING, IN GRASS VALLEY. BY J. K. MOORE & CO. J. K. Moore, J. H. Miller, Wx. E. Jones. Main Street, opposite the head of Church Street. TERMS: For one year, in advance, $7,00 For six months, 4,00 For three months, 2,00 Single copies, 25 cts. MSf* Ad» MWrt,arCxjl,,; ‘ T ‘ ts cateff. Easiness Carte. t W. LOWZENHEISER, WHOLESALE AND RETAIL DRUGGIST 8f APOTHECARY, One door West of Hall, Main st., Grass Valley Grass Valley, 22, 1853. tf CONN & MONTGOMERY, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, CONVEYANCERS, &c. fcc. Mill Street, Grass Valley. 27 tf WM. H. LAMB, WATCHMAKER AND JEWELER, Main Street, opposite Post Office, Grass Valley. March 1,1854 fc 24 tf DIBBLE, CARPENTER & SMITH, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, Office at Nevada, in Davis’ building, Broad 'Street, Office at Grass Valley, Mill Street. A. B. DIBBLE, J. S. CARPENTER, C. F. SMITH. Feb. 23—n23—tf P. CHALLISOR, M. D., & ACCOUCHEUR, Basement Story of the Mwonic Hall, Grass Valley. Grass Valley, September 22, 1853. tf DR. SHERIDAN, M. D. ROYAL COLLEGE, DUBLIN, AND ACCOUCHEUR, Has removed his office to his house—.near the Gold Hill Mill. Medicinal advice to the poor gratis. November 17—n9—tf T. J. BROWN & BROTHER, DEALERS IJV GROCERIES, PROVISIONS, WINS, LIQUORS, &c. &c., Opposite the Bridge, Boston Ravine. jfSf Goods delivered free of charge. Grass Valley, Feb. 15,1854. 22 tf T. J. BURGESS, Justice of the Peace and Attorney at law, BROOKLYN, (LITTLE YORK TOWNSHIP,) Feb. 16,1854. 22 tf HEYWOOD & BROTHER, Grocers & Provision Dealers, Boston Ravine. Also, Oothing, Boots and Shoes, Miners’ Tools, Ac. Goods delivered free of charge. 19 tf GROCERY AND PROVISION STORE. CONSTANTLY on hand a supply suited to the de mands of customers JOSEPH WILDE Boston Ravine, Feb. 9, 1854. 21 tf M. BEAN, ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW, Office Up Stairs, at the Golden Gate, Grass Valley. Jan. 19, 1854. 18-tf N. 11. DAVIS, ATTORNEY AT LAW, San Francisco. Will give prompt attention to all business entrusted to his care. . Oct. 20, 1853—n5—2m. J. M. FOUSE, JUS TICE 1 S COURT, Mill st., Grass Valley, Sept. 29, 1853. tf CR. EDWARDS & CO., Grocery and • Bakery, Main street, opposite Dornin’s Daguerreotype Rooms, Grass Valley. nov24-tf e. McLaughlin, WHOLESALE & RETAIL MANUFACTURER OF TIN, COPPER & SHEET-IRON WARE ; Dealer in Stoves, miner’s Tools, & Hardware generally. gy-East of “Masonic Hall,” Main Street, Grass Valley. Grass Valley, September 29, 1853—tf. n 2 Book-store and Stationery By FRANCIS CALLER. Located one door west of Masonic Hall, Main Street Grass Valiev. November 3d, —n7—t f WMMWS Boston Ravine, TM. EASTMAN, dealer i» Groceries, Provisions , Wines and Liquors; Clothing and Miners’ Tools. ’ Grass Valley, Jan. 4, 1854. 16-tf Washing and Ironing. ATRS. DODGE, near the Empire Quartz Mill, In Bos- JML ton Ravine, would respectfully inform the citizens of Grass Valley that she is prepared to do Washing and Ironing, in the neatest style, and would solicit the attention of all who may feel disposed to favor her with > call- Grass Valley, Feb. 15, 1854. 22 tf CONSTANT Additions are being made to our JOS BlFMfmif, of new and beautiful BORDERS, TINT PLATES, TYPE, AC., which will enables us to print Cards, Circulars, Hand Bills, Law Blanks, Posters, Bill Heads, Certificates of Stock, Ac. Ac., in Gold, Silver and Crimson Bronzes, and Variegated Colors, •qnal to any other establishment of the kind in this •ountry. GRASS VALLEY TELEGRAPH. From the New York Spirit of the Times. An Original Love Story. He struggled to-kiss her. She smuggled the same To prevent him, so bold and undaunted ; But as smitten by lightning, he heard her exclaim, “Avaunt, sir!” and off he avaunted. But when he returned, with the msroiSHEsr laugh, Showing clearly that he was affronted, And threatened by main force to carry her off, She cried “Don’t!” and the poor fellow donted. ‘ ‘ ■■ ■ r ■ When he meekly approached, and got down at her feet, Prating loud, as before he had ranted, That forgive him, and fry to be sweet, And saitK“Can’t you f” the dear girl re-canted. Then softly whispered—“ How could you do so? I certainly khought I was jilted, But come thiu with me, to the parson we’ll go ; Say, wilt tAou my dear?” and she wilted. ■ Then gaily he’took her to see her new home*— A shanty tb no means enchanted— “ See 1 here we can live with no longing to roam” He said. “Shan’t we. my dear?” So they shan tied. • From the Philadelphia Dollar Newspaper. A California Widow. one of bob Walter’s expediences. I have a passion for widows—it is one of the few weaknesses of my nature? r No mat ter whether they be tall or short, slight and sylph-like or round and rosy, ngy heart suc cumbs to the beauties. Here V a bumper to widows! I have at least three in the eye of my memory—there’s a phrase for you—while I drink. But of late I have been more wary. The old proverb says ‘a burnt child dreads the fire,’ which is very true like most proverbs—pro bably the reason they are voted vulgar—and I, having had the wings of my fancy once scorched, eye askant the ‘garish flame.” Shall I tell you the secret ? I wouldn’t mention it to another living soul for the world, but somehow you have such a way with you that you get anything out of me you choose. Ah, I’m an innocent, unsophis ticated creature still, in spite of all I have gone through—still confiding and unsuspect ing. I sometimes feel that lam not properly appreciated in this world; many things have hinted so, even the ‘table rappers’ have vague ly intimated it —ask Mr, Harvey. Well, m tell you my story, and you shall sympathize with me, and If it gets out, we shall know that some of those practical news papers—bucaneers of the high sea of litera ture —have stolen it, as they are wont to do contents of the ‘Dollar,’ and as they take the first that comes, supposing that all must be good, ‘they may pounce on my heart leaf —won’t they be deceived ‘a few?’ But there —don’t smile—l feel melancholy. Heigh ho! I’m thinking of ‘La Denieres de ( Mes ) Veu ves /’ I made one of the two hundred passengers on a noble steamer, during a certain trip it took down the Mississippi—you needn’t con sult the books to find out more particularly. I was with no acquaintance, and being a bashful man, the first day or two seemed very dull. But the third morning, upon going on deck for a promenade, I met face to face, an old schoolmate, who had got on board at during the night. Of course, I played de lighted ; one always must when one meets a former chum ; though, let me remark, en pas sant that nine times out of ten, it’s a con founded bore. We took several turns up and down the deck, discoursing of old times, old flames, and other old memories, which it is seldom wise to call up. and had begun to make a move towards the cabin, when I felt my com panion’s hand tighten on my arm, and I saw him bow to the prettiest piece of book muslin it was ever my good (?) fortune to behold. ‘lsn’t she a stunner?’ said he, in reply to my eager enquiries. ‘She came from F with me, and is going to New Orleans. She’s young to be left a widow, eh ? There’s a chance for you, old fellow! I remember your former penchants in that line!’ A widow—that adorable creature! My heart leaped up into my mouth at the thought, and would, I have no doubt, have sprung out and fallen at her feet, had I not taken the precaution to close my lips. ‘Probably you wouldn’t feel at liberty to present an old friend ?’ I said faintly, grow ing wonderous affectionate. ‘Not the least hesitation in life, ’pon hon or. Cast anchor a minute, and feast on those eyes, while I speak with her.’ He made his way to the spot where she was standing, and I saw a smile, bright as—as —, your own, lady reader, steal over her face and there was an unexplored mischief in the dimples which deepened about her mouth. ‘All right, old fellow.’ said S., grasping my arm, ‘come along! I’ ve paved the way; now you must walk in and surprise Smythe’s ghost almost to waking.’ ‘God forbid!’ muttered I, as we moved to ward her, ‘anything but that,’ for I always had a horror of spirits, unless you expect such as come in cut glass decanters, (pass that bottle!) In an hour I was intimate with the en chanting relict, and when mj friend left ns, he congratulated Mrs. Smythe on having r, t, r 7 * _ „ a ■ w GRASS VALLEY, CALIFORNIA, THURSDAY, MAY 18. 1854 found some one who was going the whole route, I pressed his hand at parting, and even hinted something like sorrow for a trick I once played him, of. dressing up a miliner’s block and almost persuading him to elope with it. But S., good easy soul, was not re vengeful. ‘A mere boyish freak! exclaimed he. ‘Go your length, my boy. Rather more yielding than Madame Modiste’s shape which you made me think was a piquant grisette, eh ? Good byeand he left me to make myself happy with the widow. I couldn’t swear I missed him, though, he was ag old'friend. Ah, that was a happy time for me, though we were detained several hours for three suc cessive days by dense fogs. I was grateful to the fogs, and them vigorously— they were more welcome to .me than the winds of Araby. >‘l fear you are very susceptible!’ said the widow, wifti a wicked glance, one after I had been talking love to her by the light of the stars ; I fear you are very sus ceptible ! ; and die shook her head. ‘I don’t know of a heart that wouldn’t suc cumb to a goddess,’ returned I, pressing her hand courageously, and the widow smiled. ‘S. told me you were a poet, and rhymes ters ai£ a fickle set—naughty poets,’ and she tapped my hand with her taper fingers, while my poor heart—oh, Jupiter 1 In a moment more —for moonlight always puts the devil info me—those laughing wa ters and twinkling starshave listened 'to a declaration, but the widoar wouldn’t stay I The mischievous creature vowed it was cold—she felt it sensibly—and she cough ed in proof, tying a laced kerchief coquettish ly about her neck, very well aware that it only made her the handsomer. She always managed to turn the conversa tion, when it grew to be personally tender, and was evidently nearing a certain point, for women are like fishermen, when they’re sure the bait has taken and the flounder fast, they like to dally with the line before pulling it in. Caught I certainly was—fast at the end of the widow’s line, and only waiting for her to draw 7 me up. Excuse me for growing so piscatorial—my being on the river at that time accounts for my reminiscences taking such a turn! • The lady was all affability. She would waTß'on'xleck wltb nao for hours, wbiln T car ried her fan and trembled beneath her black eyes; but every day for a certain time she was invisible, shut up in her state-room, and what she was about I couldn’t discover—at least I didn’t then, but came to the conclu sion she was offering sacrifice to appease the manes of old Smythe. We were nearing the ‘Crescent City,’ and and still that pent up secret burdened my sensitive bosom, for the relict had so artfully eluded the topic w 7 hen I felt my chance had come, that I had found no opportunity of re- vealing my passion. It was the sunset of the last day—the beau tiful city spread out before us in the distance —we should reach it in an hour. Could I go from that lovely being ignorant of my fate ? No, useless to think of it. I drew her to a seat apart from the confusion that reign ed supreme above and below, and while the engine throbbed a heavy bass accompaniment to my full heart’s song, (there’s a neat sen tence,) I told her all. How eloquently I talked! I threw timidi ty aside—l gave her no time to speak.though once or twice she raised her hand, as if about to interrupt me. At last she desisted, and set by my side quiet, her glorious eyes cast down, her slender hand resting passively in the one which had taken it prisoner, and the crimson of sunset tinging her pale cheeks with its delicate flush. Heavens! how lovely she looked! I could paint her picture from memory ; I did once, and wore it for—no matter how long—till a new love affair drove the fair relict from my heart, or my head, or wherever it might be she was lodged. I must have spoken for mo ments, though it seemed to me that I had said nothing, my breast was still so full. I thought those rose tinged fingers clasped mine with a gentle pressure—that cheek flushed for a mo ment, then to its usual statue-like paleness— her emotion almost overpowered her. ‘You need not speak, angel woman,’ I whispered ; ‘no words are needed ; I under stand all you would say! Heaven teach me to prize aright the priceless treasure of your love.’ The widow drew her hand from mine, and raised those dark eyes with a look of wonder ing astonishment. ‘I fear you have strangely misunderstood my situation,’ she said quietly—her sangfroid never deserted her for a moment ‘No, no,’ I exclaimed passionately ; ‘S. told me all. I know that your husband did not leave you wealthy, but do you think I am base enough to care for money ! No, dear est of women, my soul is above such sordid speculations; I love you for yourself—it is you that I desire —you only! Give yourself to me—lay that lily hand in mine, and whis per ‘‘l am yours!” I know my manner was worthy of Charles Kean—l bad always a taste for the stage. ‘Slop! stop!’ said the widow, as I was about bursting forth in a more eloquent strain than before—and I stopped, as in duty bound. ‘S. did not tell you quite all, nay friend 5 he talked as you have been fioing, like a poet. There’s a serious impediment in the. way of my marrying you.’ ‘What do you mean?’ I gasped ‘what do you mean? Is it because we have known each other so little time! O, believe’ ‘Hush, don’t speak so loud, and I’ll tell you,’ said the widow, gently. She beckoned to a woman who. stood a lit tle off, holding a beautiful 1&ild of ltv<T years. She approached, and I recouped Mrs. Smythe’s maid. Mrs. Smythe held out her arms— ‘Mamma !’ cried the little imp, and leaped into them, crowing gayly, and surveying me with a look of easy impudence. . ‘I mean,’ said the lady, ‘that it fs an ob stacle more serious than short acquaintance.’ I was dumb. ‘When my husband cpmes to New Orleans from San Francisco, do call— thanks to your kind attentions—you’ve made the journey very pleasant.’ When I recovered my powers of speech, the supposed relict was gone. The maid gave me a note ; it was from S., and I hastily tore it open. ‘Old chum, before this meets your eye you will have congratulated my lair cousin on her expected meeting with her spouse. My friend, you once bade me beware of milliners’ block—l return the warning; “Beware of California widows !” ’ Characteristic of the Sex. —We were a good deal amused, the other day, at a circum stance which occurred in one .of the cars on the New York and Erie. Railroad. It was witnessed by a friend whom no. “good” thing" ever escapes, and who thus describes it: On a seat two or three “removes”.from me, sat a smart Yankee-looking woman, with a dashing sew silk gpwrymd a new bonnet, set jauntily upon her head ; and beside her, look ing out of the window, and every now and then thrusting out of his head, sat a man of somewhat-foreign air and manner. The woman watched him with every ap pearance of interest, and at last said to him: Do you see that hand-bill there, telling you ..not to put your arms and head out of the car windowa?” The man made no reply, save to fix upon the speaker a pair of pale, watery blue eyes; and presently went out his head again, and half his body, from the car window. “Do you understand English?” asked the woman. “Yaw,” was the reply. “Then why don’t you keep your head out of the window ?” There was no reply of any kind, to this ap peal. At length he put his head out a third time, just as the cars were passing at a long wood en bridge. The lady started back, and once more exclaimed: “Do you understand Eng lish ?” “Yaw—yaw!” “Then why don’t you keep your head out of the window? Want to get killed?” No response. And a fourth time he nar rowly escaped collision with some passing ob ject. The woman could “stand it” no longer. “ Why don't you keep your head out of the window ? The next thing you know, your head will be smashed into a jelly, and your brains will be all over my dress—that is, if you’ve got any—and I don’t much believe you have!” We had mistaken the object of the woman's solicitude which at first seemed to be a ten der regard for the safety of her fellow pas senger ; but when the truth “leaked out,” coupled with so very equivocal a compliment to his intelligence, a laugh was heard in the car that drowned the roaring of the wheels. [ Harper's Magazine. A Jew once lent a large sum of money to a man for whom he had professed great friend ship. but instead of charging the usual rate of interest, 6 per cent., he charged nine per cent. The borrower remonstrated, and asked the usurer if he did not believe in the exist ence of a God. He replied that he did. “Do you not fear to exact an unlawful in terest from an old friend in His sight?” ask ed the debtor. “Ah, I thought of that, too; but when God looks down upon it from above, the nine will appear like a six!” exclaimed the old Hebrew, with a grin. A Settlement. —“Did you mean to settle this bill at all, sir, when you made it?” said the creditor in a passionate manner. •‘Humph! keep cool my good friend,' said the debtor, puffing a cigar with moat admi rable sang froid. “ You want a settle ment?” “To be sure, I do, sir.” “Well, riiy dear sir, I assure you I meant to settle, and when I meant to settle, that was clearly a aeW/e-ment! Ha, ha, ha! Good morning, my friend, I’ll see you in the fall! The Love op Money.— la the catechism of the Nineteenth Century, says Hiram Fuller, the true answer to the question, “What is -the chief end of man?'’' should be— Money. When one pauses to reflect upon this univer sal scrambleiaftgr “the root of all evil,” the money-mania of?khe day becomes a sort of miraculous phenomenon. It seems to be the ultima thule of humail.effort. Men work for it, fight for it, it, steal for it, starve for it, preach for it lie for it, live for it, and die for it. And aft the while, from the cradle to the grave, nature and God are dv'er thundering fblo our ears the solemn question—“ What shall it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his own soul?’ 7 The madness for money is the strongest and low est of the passions; it is the insatiate Mo loch of the human heart, before wWse re morseless altar all the fine attributes of hu manity are sacrificed. It makes merchandise of all that is sacred in human affections; and even traffics in. 'the awful solemnities of the eternal world. Fathers sell their daughters for gold; and temples defeated to religion are used as marts for the display of the glit tering temptation. Miserly men, ih the possession* pf great wealth, and who pretend to love their chil dren as the “apple of their eye,”' will stint them in education, in pleasure,'and in health' • and keep, them cramped and miserable for lack of money, through* all v Me earlier’ and better years of thejr existence; and when death relaxes the did man’s grasp from his money bags, the overwhelming avalanche of wealth becomes often a curse rather than a blessing to Ins heirs. Human life at longest is but a span—a fleeting dream—a passing apparition in the phantasmagora of Time. What folly to devote it to an unscrupulous struggle for that “which perisheth with the using * The following article we copy from the New York Times. We fancy it will prove an ; item of important intelligence to most of our readers: The First Railroad in California nas been commenced under favorable auspices. It is called the “Sacraniento Yalley Railroad.,” and will lead from the City of Sacramento into the heart of the gold region, a distance of some seventy miles. Col. Charles L. Wil •cmv of the company, sailed from here per last California steamer, having purchased and shipped the iron, locomotives, cars, and a complete outfit for the road. A portion of the road will be in operation with in one year. The Railroad Agency of S. Seymour & Co. furnished an efficient corps of engineers, and a party to manage the details of construction, in charge-of T. D. Judah, Esq. of Buffalo, who has accepted the post of Chief Engineer of the road. He is a man of most reliable experience and ability, and we feel assured that the enterprise could not have fallen into better hands. Col. Wilson has manifested in the management of this Railroad, of which he is controlling proprie tor, a degree of tact and energy, which is of itself an assurance of success. He is a model of the enterprising and progressive spirit which knows “no such word as faU,” and which is destined to place this new Western State in the highest position among commer cial communities. Boston capitalists, with their usnal forecast, have subscribed with avidity to a large amount of stock, which will prove, beyond doubt, the most produc tive of its kind in America or the world. Breaking the News. —Cuff had been out with the cart and oxen, and returning, his master asked him what was the trouble ? “Why, massa, de wheel is broke.” “Is that all, Cuff?” “No, massa, de tongue broke too.” “What, did the oxen run away ?” “Yes, massa, and kill de nigh ox.” “Is it possible, Cuff?” “And de off ox, too, massa.” “Go, you black rascal, you have, made a perfect, smash up, and that is the reason why you pome back] why didn’t you tell me so?” “Why, massa,” said Cuff, scratching his wool, “I spose dat one wheel broke be ficient of itself individooly, without proceeding into de entire argument ob de cart and oxum.” A debating society out west, wishes to know ‘what love is the strongest—a wife’s or a mother’s. We answer, a mother’s—for she grieves forever, while a wife ‘hangs on’ for only a month or two. When Mrs. Dash lost Mr. Dash, she was ‘so taken down’ by the ‘awful occurrence, that she wished the ‘mountaings’ would open their mouths and ‘swaller’ her np, chambermaids, brooms and all. Eight weeks after, we found her at Tay lor’s, seeking consolation in a place of ice cream and a maroon-colored vest.[ — JV. V. Monthly. We once heard a Vermonter express his opinion of a person in the following style of classics,: ‘I could take,’ said he ‘the little end of nothing, whittle it down to a point, punch out the pith of a horse-hair, and put In forty thousand such souls as bis, shake them up, and they’d rattle ? GLEANINGS. Whatever the wind may do" in winter, it cannot be denied that in spring Jt “tarns over a new leaf.” _ * Professor Agassiz lias undertaken to prove that the negro does not belong to the human family.'’' 55 - 11 :"" 11 ' 1 The French papers state that a zinc ship, recently built at Nantes, has made a trial trip, and proved an excellent sea-boat. She is quite strong, and the metal did not affect Why c&nhof a gentleman legally possess a short walking-stick ? Because it can never be-LONG to him. There has not been an execution in Quebec in eighteen years. r A letter writer in Melbourne, Australia, says, that veils are universally worn by both sexes, as a protection against the fine dost which is blown in from the Great Desert. It is said that the last words of Henry Clay, were, “My mother—mother—moth- er!” Sir T. Brown says that “Sleep is Death’s younger brother; and so, like him, I dare not trust him without my prayers.” jP* - * • Russia became possessed of her territory in North America by right Of discovery, in the sixteenth century. Prom the adoption of the. Federal Consti tution tothe present timel it is computed that the cost of keeping up, the war estab lishment of the United States haS been over $2,000,000,000, —more than sevgn times AS much as was set apart by the Government' daring the same period for all other pnrpqgjp whatever. It is said that the Prussian enjoins that the whole of the mAudy. ing the sermon, shall not ftourjh ’ Ccvier.—lt was a remark of this celelprptod savant, that “mankind is composed of ham mers and anvils, and that it is much better to be a hammer than an anvil.” A hunter in Missouri went out recently, and in the course of seven hours, killed nine deer, two pheasants, a dozen quails, and fif teen squirrels—-and it was not a good day for .hunting, either. Among the new natents announced, is one to Adolphus Theodore Wagner, of Berlin, in the kingdom of Prussia, professor of music, for the invention of a “psychograph, or ap paratus for indicating a person’s thoughts by the agency of nervous electricity.” A letter-writer in Canada West says:— “You can’t knock down a farmer in the whole country, and find less than two hundred lbs. in his pocket ?” It is generally allowed ihat there is more of what is called chiselled beauty in America than in Europe. It is said that forty-eight hours’ abstinence from liquids of all kinds, will kill a cold com pletely.” “In short —ladies and gentlemen,” said an overpowered orator, “I can only say—l beg leave to add —I desire to assure you—that . I wish I had a window in my bosom that you might see the emotion of my heart.” (Vul gar boy from the gallery)—“Wouldn’t a •pane in yout stomach do this time ?” The three dollar gold coin, authorized by Congress, will be issued as soon as the dies now in progress are completed. “Mother, cant I go and have my daguer reotype taken ?” No, my child, I guess it isn’t worth while.” “Well, then, you might let me have a tooth pulled ] I never go any where.” Education. —The power by which all ob stacles may be overcome, and all triumphs achieved. —Music from “Hernani.” Civil and Religious Liberty. —The strong basis upon which rests the power and strength of America. —[“-Sifc- Spangled Banner .” At a late trial, the defendant, who was not familiar with the multitude of words which the law employs to make a trifling charge, af ter listening a while to the reading of the in dictment, jumped up and said, “Them ’ere allegations is false, and that ’ere alligator knows it!” The woman who undertook to “scour the country” gave up the job on account of the high price of soap. The last cause of jealousy is that of a lady who discarded her lover, a sea captain, be cause, in speaking of one of his voyages, be said he hugged the shore. The man who was driven to destruction had to walk back. A friend of ours, who wa* a f ew miles in the country yesterday, relates the following . A mile or so from town he nftt a boy on horseback, crying <Hth cold. ‘Why don’t you get down and lead the horse!’ said our friend, ‘that’s the- way to keep warm.’ ‘lt’s a b-borrowed horse, and I’ll ride him if I freeze.’ NO.- 35.