The Herald, 1904-08-19, Page 3r.reelb alP44t %'° iKAP9a... , a p}..&*1 9""ba-gtre7
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These misfortunes culminated In bis
own death, resulting from a shock
of apoplexy, upon discovering that
.a large cargo of unth ured wool had
been destroyed by fire, and the man
knew that this heavy loss would
just about wreck iris business, for he
bad depended upon the sale of this
%vidal to meet some heavy obliga-
•tiernrs that would shortly become due.
What'served to make these circum-
,tstanoes all the more cad was the
:tact 'that his cern, in whom all his
Rhes were centred, lay low with
a virulent fever at that time, tbe
,physicians having positively assert-
ed that his case was hopeless—that
he could not pass/bat rally.
A few, months later, and about six
previous to the opening of our
abery, Mr. Robert Seaver, of New,
York, was surprised ono day to re-
ceive the card of Walter C. Leigle-
ton, with a few lines penciled upon
it, requesting an interview, with him.
He instructed the boy to chow his
el,sitor into bis office, and presently
a handsome, finely -formed young man
of some twenty-three years presented
himself before him.
At first the lawyer wae,favorably
,impressed with him.
He appeared to be very intelligent,
and well read, was courteous and af-
fable—nay, more, peculiarly fascin-
ating in his manner.
Uytan learning the young man's
story, that his father, after a ser-
ies Of misfortunes, which culminated
in the loss of most of his fortune.
had died, thus blighting his pros-
pects, and leaving him almost pen-
niess, Mr. Seaver, whose sympathies
were deeply enlisted, interested Mm -
eel! ie his behalf, and he succeed-
ed in eeeuring Mw a position as
clerk in a. bank of watch he was
one of the directors.
More than this, he invited him to
his own home, where lie iutroduced
him to his faintly, and to his beau-
tiful w,ard, with whom the young
man proceeded at once to fall
deeply in love.,
Mr. Seaver knew, of the compact
Which the parents of the cwoyoung
people had entered .into, year's be-
fore; but it had slipped from. his
mind, and was not recalled until
the mischef was done, and it be-.
came evident that young Leigh-
ton intended to press his suit and
secure • the wealthy bride that bad
been selected foe him:
Ile bitterly regretted that he had
not foreseen this result, and
guarded his ward more carefully,
especially when it became appar-
ent to him that, in spite of what-
ever virtues the young man might
possess. he had very grave faults
as well; that he was addicted to the
ha.bit of intemperance, while, now
and then, there wets an evieience of
tyranny and intolerance of other
people's rights midi opinions that
betray ed au '.rnderlying selfishness
that would make the gentle and
sensitive girl wretched if she be-
came his wife. .
Rut Florence had fallen under
his charm; and be, making the most
of his opportunities, continued to
!weave the web of his fascinations
about her, until she grew to be-
lieve that her happiness lay only
in his keeping; While, too, she felt
that she was also carrying out the
wishes of her father, whom she had
idolized, and for whom alone she
Would have sacrificed herself, even
had her own heart not responded
to them.
Consequently, when Walter Leigh-
ton told her of his love, and for-
mally asked her to be This wife, she
unhesitatingly pledged herself to
h
im
Mr. Seaver decidedly disapproved
of the engagement. In fact, he re-
fused 'to regard art[ trilovers,
g em as
y
saying that Florence was far too
young, and had seen too little of
the world, to bind herself by any
promise, and he should not give his
consent to such an arrangement
until she had had at least one seas-
on in society, and was more compe-
tent to judge for herself.
Florence, knowing how truly her
guardian had heel interests at
heart, would have cheerfully sub-
mitted to his wishles, and this at-
titude on her part created the first
disagreement between- the love
ers; and, the ice, once broken, the
young man often made her wretched
for clays by his jealousy and caprice.
He began to bo less eourteous and
careful of her feelings, in many
ways betraying his innate selfish-
ness ;, and, upon two or three oc-
casions, had appeared in her guard-
ian's drawing -room decidedly un-
der the influence of liquor.
Once err. Sievert had a long and
confidential talk with. her nbo'at it.
"'Flog," he said, With great ten-
derness. as he Dame upon her weep-
ing from ry,lxlety and mortification,
"'If you are unhappy in yt ur rela-
t1ons with Walter—and I tient:
you have cause to be—I advise you
to break them at once. T am sure
he Is unworthy of your regard, or
he would be mono considerate of
your feelings."
"•I3,ut I really am fond of- 711],
Uncle Robert, and I should miss
him so, to give him up; and, bee
aides, papa Wanted me to marry
him, you know," Florence replied,
wiping the tears from her cheeks,
and trying to smile away her
iroihble.
"My rhlld, your father never
Would have jvlshed. you . tis be 1nfluy
°need by, his desire if be could have
foreseen these conditions," was the
grave reply. 'Relieve me, dear, if
he :were here to -day, lie would be
the first to warn you against one
who has no more respect for you
than to come into your presence
In a partial state of 'intoxication,
and mortify you before your
friends."
"'Oh, but Walter says that he is
no slave to drink—twat he has frer-
fect 'command of himself, and—"
"'Then why does he not prove his
statement, dear?"- Mr, Seaver in-
terposed ; "'why does he allow wine
to get the better of him? If I am
not mistaken, . he has been here a
good many times, when It would
have been more to 'his credit to
have remained aw'rayt I claim itt is an
insult to any young lady—to say
nothing &bout her friendM—to pre-
sent 'himself before- her with the
taint of liquor in his breath. That
is getting to be a common occur-
rence with Leighton, not to men-
tion his unkind treatment of you,
at such times. Floy', I wish you
would break with him altogether;
the gentleman concluded, earnestly.
•' "'Oh; 1-1` couldn't dd that, Uiele
Robert,' sighed the girl,
with a look of trouble In
her eyes that went to his
heart. "Walter says he couldn't live
without me, and perhaps he will be
different when he has a home, and
interests of his own. I—I hope my in-
fluence over lam will win Mm by and
by, and—and then, I feel ate if I ,mulct
do as papa washed, and try to save
the son of his dearest friend."
Mr. Seaver smiled, sadly, at this
eophtbtry- ,
He realized, as many another has
done, that continued opposition only
serves to arouse antagonism, and,
the more he argued against Ler
lover, the more strongly set she
would be In 'her determination to
stand by him. But he could not re-
sist one parting admonition.
'eery dear gill," he said, "don't flat-
ter yourself that, if your influence
fails to aceohpplish what you desire
while you hold your fate in your, own
hands, it will acnleve It when you
have sacrificed your liberty to one
wiho, Y fear, will prove a. veritable
tyrant to you in the future."
He lett her then, but with the sec-
ret re,sotuiton to spare no effort to
prevent a marriage Which, he felt
sure, would prove most disastrous to
the happiness of this lovely glee; who
had become very dear to nim during
the year and a half that she had
been under his care.
His ' whvn children—all save This
youngerst son, wee was finishing a
lon
g course at Heidelberg, (irerinalhy—
wrere married, and living in homes of
their own, and Florence had been a
veritable sunbeam in lhls house,
which, otherwise, would have been
dull and Lonely. • r
He resod ietl that, on the completion
of her studies—she would graduate
that sunhmer from the Legh school—
lee would take her abroad, where she
would be utterly free from the influ-
ence pr her lover, and would, per-
chance, meet others who would give
her different ideas of life, and per-
haps open her eyes to the glaring
faults and ueworthiness of the young
man.
When June opened, he had matured
and announced hie plans, whereupon
young Leigthton, suspecting their ob-
ject, had at once begun to urge Flor-
ence to consent to a secret marriage..
For a long time she had withstood
all lrls entreaties, but at last, as we
have seemdlis passionate appeals
proved irrescistibie • theyheedswept
ll barriers away, ane on her re-
luctant
luctant consent. For some weeks
previous he had appeared to mend
his, o
ursu t f
G r e and co duo ed himself
with great i
sv gr a, c ic,umspectien, when he
visited ber; at the same time throw-
eeg around, her all the fascination of
which he was master, until the fair
girl flattered Herself that her influ-
ence was having the desired effect,
and .kite grew proportionately llglh�t-
hearted and happy. ',
alloy parted, as related, in the
&summer-[house—wihere he had ap-
pointed a secret meeting, for lie was
determured they Mould be subjected
to no interruption—she returning to
the house in a halt -.lazed frame of
mind ; lie to go to arrange, for the
ceremony that would make liim the
unworthy husband of a beautiful and
innocent girl, and—the master of a
half -million of money.
• He chuckled, with secret triumph,
as lie vaulted lightly over the hedge,
Ira,ok or tho summer -house, and walk-
ed briskly along the highway to
oath!" tire train for town.
"New, 1 shall have everything fixed
just to my mind," he muttered, show-
ing lies white teeth in an evil smile.
"Let them Daae tier abroad, and give
her a taste of the world, for a few
months, then I will appear upon the
scene to claim in,y bride, and' the
handsome tortuihe I have won. Iia,
ha, my enr•ewd bid lawyer, future
events well prove who has played the
most sagacious gamo ; then, when I
explode my bomb, I'll go in feria high
old ;time on the other side of the
pond, with my pretty little wife."
Poor Florence went straight to her
own room, where she confided to her
maid what ache had premised to do.
'I1he girl was already in the pay
of young Leighton, and readily lent
herself to the plot, cheering her fair
mistress, and painting the future it
tteb bright colorsfor her that, ere
long, I`loredce began to look forward
to hex- approaching nuptials with
more of , rerenil'i'`, !!. not with posi•
-
tive joy. • c
• Tile remainder et the day parsed
swiftly, in paelcillt and vial ing ready
for the. rnor'row s departure, and,
when •the dinner hour arrived, every-
body professed to be S weary /twee
arranged that they should retire
very early, .to get needed rest for
theirpontemeleted voyage.
It was barely e'Gaht o'clock when
Mrs: Heaver an,rt': F ore.tce bade Mr.
1 eaverr good -night,. and repaired to
their rooms.. , l ;
Mr, Seaver had a couple of letters
to "Write, and went to the library
for that purncrse.
At a quarter tt>' five, Florence and
her maid, wee were sitting in abso-
lute ,silence and darkness, heard him
aseend the stairs and enter his Owen
apartment.
Tan minutes later the two trem-
bling girls etole softly down a. back
stairway and out of a rear door.
During the last hour, the night
had grown intenaely dark; heavy
clouds had polled up from the south
and w;eist, while an occasional flash
of lightning and the distant mut-
ter of thunder portended an ap-
prhoaebing storm.
Locking the door, and taking the
key with them, they aped toward the
gate before. mentioned, and, upon
reaching it, found the promised car-
riage a,w,aiting them.
"Mase Richardson ?" came the in-
quiry, in a low,, cautious tone, from
one of tie two figures sitting upon
the driver's box.
"Yeas," w,as the tremulous response
from Florence.
The men eprang to the ground and
opened the carriage door.
"1 am Mir. Leighton's friend, whom
he hes went 'to conduct you to the
Rosedale chapel," be said, in a re-
'aseuri g ,voice. "1 think we must
make haste, however, or we shall be
caught in a storm"
A sharper flash of lightning and
a louder roll of thunder seemed to
corroborate his statement, and
caused the girls to spring quickly
Inside the vehicle, and in another
moment they were ,speeding swiftly
on their w,ay.
"Oh, I Pm afraid! I n-,lsh I had
not come !" panted the trembling
bride -elect, while she clung convul-
sively to her companion.
"Nonsense, Miss Floe ! We are
perfectly safe, and there is just ro-
mance enough about this affair to
make it exciting," flippantly replied
the girl, 'svho was just unprincipled
enough to enjoy such a. lark. "It
isn't a long drive, and wee shall prob-
ably get there before the storm over-
takes us, and 1t will doubtless be
spent before we come back."
Nevertheless, the storm did over-
take them, even though the driver
hurried leis horses to the top of their
speed. and broke with terrible fury
Just as eta vehicle halted before the
pretty little church at Rosedale.
The girls quickly alighted, and hur-
ried inside the clr'npal, ,which was
but direly Ilea:L ?e r::, • r the altar,
wlhero a clergyman, in his surplice,
was awaiting, the corning of the
liriday party.
Young Leighton had not yet put
In an appearance„ greatly to the dis-
appointment of Florence, and the an-
noyance of his friend, wile was to
act as best man.
Florence and her timid sat down in
one of the pews to await the ar-
rival of the belated groom, while her
escort went out to the porch to
watch for him.
Here he fell into convereaa.tion with
the driver, w,llo was aleo a friend
of Leighton's, and during watch they
discussed their escapade, and com-
mented freely upon the ,shrewdness
of the adventurer in managing to
wheedle a pretty girl into the sec-
ret marriage for the ,sake of get-
ting control of her fortune.
Meantime, the storm increased in
violence, the inky at times being one
sheet of flame, the thunder almost
a continuous roar, and the rain
pouring in torrents.
"Where in thunder can Leighton
be ?" at length muttered his friend,
?and peering forth into the dark-
nees with anxious eyes.
He stood thus for a. moment then
he turned and re-entered the church
with wl his companion.
Almost at the same instant, a tall
figure, muffled to the eyes in awater-
proof and cape, emerged from be-
hind the pillar near which they had
been standing, and followed them.
TIL, sound of hie hurried steps
caused the others 'to turn sharply
around, When ono of them ex-
claimed :
"Thank Heaven, Leighton, you have
acme: Iiow did you get here ?"
"On horseback; didn't you hear
me ?" was the brief response,
"No; this deuced storm deadens any
sound. Ugh, just hoar it In said the
other, as a, vivid hash was followed
by a deafening crash of thunder,
w,hibh shook the building to its
foundations. 'T.ut come," he added;
"the girl lia,s been waiting here for
nearly half an hour, and is nearly
frightened to death. I've been afraid
,she'd insist upon going home, as I
believe she le more than [rale inclined
to do, and you'd lose the nice fat
plum you ]rave so cunningly plotted
for. I've the certificate, and all It
needs now. is the siignature of the
ciergyma.n. I'll get that after the
knot is tied, wblle you are taking
your bride to the cariage."
He hurried his eon panion down
the aisle, for he was Melons to get
the matter over ; than, going to
Florence, be conducted leer to hie
side, the maid fallowing.
Florence !glanced anxiouelyt. up at
her lover, as she came to him ; but
in the gloom, and muffled as beeves,
she could not see hinh distinctly, anti
she was toe agitated to address him,
Wilde she was eager to return home
as soon as ;possible.
The •clergyhnan was evidently in a
hurry atsee leis patience having been.
sroreily" tried, by the long waiting*
itla'rid be kestened thrd'u h'thi ' Elate
Floe with wh'.t speed the could with,
out miakthgit scene ai tame.
When he called for the ring, tbe
pnoom seemed to hesitate for an in -
stave ; but, ,after fumbling in a
packet •
of rias vest fbr a moment,
pmoduoed it, a;nd two minuteal later,
the couple were pronounced hue-,
bend an wife.
Ais the last weeds of the hurried
benedi.tion fell from the minister's
lipls, Florence lifted her wthite face
and appealing eyes to her husband's.
"Now, take me--" she began,
when suddenly the words froze on
her ape, and a leen, shuddering moan
burst Trot] her.
At the 'same instant 'there eaime
Brother terrific crash, that seemed
to rock the whole earth.
But the young wife heard it not.
She had fallen upon her compan-
k n's breast, limp, whhiteand sense-
less.
The face intro which she had look-
ed was that of an utter etranger ;
sae bad married a man whom she
bad never seen before,
CII'AP,TIEIt, III.
The companions of the youthful
bride, were, however, unaware of the
clause of her swoon at the altar,
dlrectier' afr.er the ceremony. One
sand all, except the man who• lead
personated the absent groom, be-
lieved it to be the, reaction from the
nervous exeltement under which she
had been lahbering, mingled, per-
haps, with fear and awe, of the ter-
rible conflict of the elements and
the uncannyt gloom tbat bad attend-
ed her nuptials.
Hercompanion took ber in . hila
arms, with a strangely reverent gen-
tleness and tenderness, considering
bis position, and bore her quickltyj
from tbe place, followed by the other
members knf the party; -a11 save the
"beat man," wbo had remalired be-
hind to secure the clergytman's sig-
nature to the marriage certificate.
As the stranger emerged Tram the
cha'pei, with his u'nconselous burden,
the rain had almost ceased ; the
norm seemed tot have spent itself in
that last deafening clap of thunder;
tho clouds were breaking, and low
'do'w'n on the western borizon, where
they, had lifted, there gleamed one
Ione star of peculiar brilliancy.
Was it the beacon light of a good
angel, watching over gentle, mis-
guided Florence Richtardstrn, and
set there as a promise to show that,
though her future might be frenght
with storms of sorrow, yet hope
should never entirely' fail her ?
The young man strode directly to
the carriage, and placed his burden
within it, after which he assisted
the maid to follow her mistress .
"Get her home a•nd into bed as
quickly as passible," he Raid to the
girl, in a 1c,iv, authorative tone;
and, mind," the sternly! added, "that
you keep a cio'se tongue about this
night's. 'work,"
e He closed the door upon them,
without waiting for a reply, and then
stepped back into the chapel to
speak to the min who lead lingered
to ,i,>v+t' the certificate.
Ile met h<m just inside 1hp door.
"Humph i" sneered th,:. "best man,"
as he came &ewe io his sup -posed
friend, "the [girl hasn't much back-
bone, has she? It's lecky for you,
though, that she didn't oollapso be-
fore the knot was tied. You've wen
your nice fat plum, and now, I sup-
pose, you are prepared to fork over
my share fol• this night's work. tial
]ae excite nr, e1, in a. startled -lane, as
the stranger, having thrown back
the collar of his mackintosh, laid a
benvy Imre upee his Monica -sr, and
bent' a stern, white face upon prim,
"what is •the meaning of this ? By!
--! You are hot Walter LeIghton!
Gad! This is a devilish plight, as sure
as 1 am alive 1"
(To be continued.)
WHAT THE UOCTOIt DOES.
The first thing a doctor does when he
is called to see a frettiug,worrying baby
is to give it a medicine to move its bow-
els and sweeten the stomach. The doe
for knows that nine -tenths of the trou-
bles affecting babies and young children
u irritation of the stoma or
aredue to stomach
bowels, and that lvhen the cause is re-
moved the child is well and happy.
Baby's Own Tablets are an always-on-
rr Intl r
and o cu
Irani doctor, e all the
promptly y
minor ills of little ones. They contain no
poisonous "soothing" stuff, and may be
given with safety to the tenderest in -
fent, or the well grown child. Mrs. J.
Overhand, of Hepworth Station, Onta-
rio, says : "My little one was much
troubled with indigestion, and Baby's
Own Tablets gave immediate relief. 1
have found the Tablets the most satis-
factory medicine I have ever used for
children" Sold by all medicine deal-
ers or sent by mail at 23 cents a box,
by writing The Dr. \Viliams' Medicine
Co., Brockville, •Ont.
STUDENT STUMPED PROFESSOR.
The clever Dr. Ritchie, of Edinburgh,
met with his match while examining a
student.
He said: "Anel you attended the class
for mathematics?"
"Yes"
"How many sides has a circle?"
"'lavo," said the student.
"What are they?"
What a laugh in the class the stu-
dent's answer produced when he said:
"An inside and an outside."
But this was nothing compared with
whet followed, The doctor said to the
student: "And you attended the moral
philosophy class also"
iloso
"SVell, you would bear lectures on
various subjects. Did you ever &'ear
one on cause and effect?"
"Yes,"
"Does an effect ever ge before a
cause?"
"Yes."
"Give me an instance,".
"A man wheeling a barrow."
The, doctor= their sat 'down. end pxo-
ppiata iib iiiei'e' txeWtiorls,
MILL FEEDS
l..eaaing Cereals and Ey-Pro-
ducts—Their Use and Value.
A leading Nova Scotia farmer points
out that the averageman buys the dif-
ferent kinds of mill feeds without know-
ing the grade he is buying, the value of
each, or the kind of tale stook to which
it. should be fed. Some brief notes on
the. more common feeds are all that a
newspaper article will allow.
Wheat.—Wheat is a suitable feed for
all kinds of, live steak if fed with judgx
went. Shrunken and damaged wheat can
be fed to advantage, as it may be nearly
or quite equal to the best grain for
this purpose. For fattening stock, wheat
is considered worth about 10 per cent.
less than :corn, The by-products of
wheat in common use are bran, aborts,
middlings and low grade flour. Bran is
recognized as one of the very best feeds
for dairy cows and sheep, and for horses
rot al ir:ua work. On acount of its
coarse and fibrous nature, it is admira-
bly adapted for mixing with corn, peas,
and other highly concentrated feeds, but
for the same reason it is not suited for
feeding in large quantities to hard -work -
cd horses or young pigs. The distinction
between shorts and middlings is not al-
ways clearly marked, although the for-
mer is supposed to be re -ground bran,
and the latter the finer particles of bran
with some flour included. The poorer
grades of shorts often contain the
sweepings and dirt of the mill, and are
not satisfactory for feeding. Middlings
are especially useful for feeding pigs,
along with skim milk or corn. The
lowest grade of flour, frequently known
as "red clog," usually contains the germs
of the wheat, and on account of its high
protein and fat c9ntents is a valuable
feed for cows, hard -worked- horses and
growing pigs. The better sorts of low
grade flour are similar in composition
to the best grades and cannot be fed at
a profit.
•
Corn.—Corn is the best of all the cer-
eals for fattening stock. It is used. very
largely in the manufacture of staich,
glucose, beer, spirits, etc., and conse-
quently has a. long list of by-products. In
the processes of manufacture the starch "
is removed, and the remainder of the
grain is sold under the name of gluten
feed, which is wel suited for dairy cows
and fatening stock. Gluten meal is glut-
en feed without the hulls and germs of the
corn, and is very rich in protein and fat.
It is a capital feed for dairy cows, but
on acount of its concentrated nature,
should be mixed with bran or oats. Corn
germ is very rich in protein and oil;
after the oil is pressed out the residue is
known as corn oil meal or corn oil cake,
also a valuable feed. Corn bran is relit
tively low in feeding value. There are
numerous other "corn feeds" on the mar-
ket, but they vary greatly in composition
and value, and should be bought only un-
der a guaranteed analysis.
Oots.—The feeding value of oats is well
known. Oat bulls, oat dust, and oat feed
or shorts are the ehief by-products of
this grain. Oat hulls are of littIe value
for feed, but ae often mixed with corn
meal, etc., and the mixture sold as
ground oats. Oat dust consists chiefly of
the minute hairs reproved from the ker-
nel in the preparation of oatmeal.
It has a fair feeding value, especially if
broken kernels are present, and there is
not too much mill sweepings. Gat shei•ts
or oat food varies greatly in composi-
tion, although the better grades show a
feeding value similar to that of oatmeal.
Barley—Barley is a first class feed. for
pigs and dairy cows. The by-products,
brewers' grains and malt sprouts, are
largely fed in some sections. Brewers'
grains are simply barley from whieh the
dextrin and sugar have been extracted.
The wet grains are, not desirable for gen-
eral use, but the dried grains are easily
kept and are rich in protein and fat,rank-
ing with bran and oil meal as a feed for
dairy cows. Malt sprouts are a cheap
and excellent feed for cows, but they are
not greatly relished, and only two or
three pounds a day can be fed.
Peas—Peas are very rich in protein,
and are among the best feeds for grow-
ing animals, dairy cows and pigs. Pea
meal is too concentrated to be fed alone.
There are no by-products in general use.
Oil Cake—Oil cake or oil ureal is a by-
product of the manufacture of linseed
oil. It is.L very rich and healthful feed,
particularly for fattening cattle •and
sheep. Its high protein contents makes
it valuable for feeding in moderate
quantities to dairy cows, along with
corn silage.
Cottonseed Meal—Cottonseed meal is
a by-product in making cottonseed oil.
It is richest of all the concentrates, but
varies greatly in quality. It is not suit-
able for pigs or calves. Good cottonseed
meal, which is a bright lemon -yellow .in
color .and has a fresh, pleasnat taste,
may be profitably fed in reasonable
quantity, if combined with other feeds.
Not more than three or four pounds
daily should be fed to dairy cows. Yours
very truly,
W. A. Clemons,
Publication Clerk.
Port Arthur.
(Buffalo News.)
Port Arthur has been taken,
But speak not in Gath,
The news will please some people
And others move to wrath.
Just read It in the headlines
And let it go at that,
There's unusio in the Ttussian air,
The Jape are standing pat.
If Port Arthur hasn't fallen,
As was stated in Chefoo,
Just buy another "care out,"
The joke Is then on you.
Port Arthur will be taken,
It will be, "on the dead,"
And when it's surely fallen
They'll print the fact, in red.
What He Wanted.
(Chicago, Post.)
"1, tail bride is the best looking, don'tycs
`think?"
' well,""replied the tltled' EEngtishman enarg.
'lea caught on to a Ilttle.Amgetcan.; cling,
+ se. tar as T arts personally concerned I at.
thine' am tot 'looking /or ono *he la
tI