Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

PAGE 2 BARNWELL SENTINEL, BARNWELL, SOUTH CAROLINA N-. CHAPTER XVIII. -12- Daphne scattered /or the subway as * fugitive rnblHt to its burrow. But she was not a rabbit and she felt suf-’ fcrcnted in tire tunnel: She could not endure to be quiet ib'"'the presence of so many goggle eyes like aligned but tons, She left the train at the next station and walked rapidly to Fifth avenue, and up It homeward. „ She walked rapidly for-the comfort of the restlessness, but there was no comfortable destination ahead of her.- She found Mrs. Chevvls at home with her disconsolate husband. Daphne dared not tell them Just yet that she had lost her place. She would tell them when she got-another one. For fear that they might ask why she was home so early, she went down to Bay- ard’s apartment. _ She wanted to tell Bayard and Leila what had happened. It was safe, she felt sure. Bayard would never attack Gerst. He would be more likely to rail at Daphne for bringing the trou ble on herself. * Leila let 1ier In at the door, bat she was In a militant humor. She said. “Hello!” grimly and stepped back for Daphne to enter. Daphne found Bay ard still aglow with Interrupted quar- r»L He said, “Hello!“ with a dismal nonnotation. • "What do you suppose that brother -if yours orders me to do now?" said Leila, whirling Daphne toward her. “I can’t Imagine,” said Daphne, In credulous of HayartTs ordering Leila to do anything. S “He wants n»e to go to putllh and put up a poor mouth and humiliate my self." “Who has* What of it? paying anybody.’ 1 ’ "But I had an urgent letter from your bookkeeper, or somebody.” “Don’t mind her.- She gets excited. Nobody pays rnfC You conae In and get another gown and you’ll catch a millionaire with it.” • m . It was hard for Dutilh to keep his clients clear in his mf^ory. “But I can’t afford" It.” "And I can't afford to have my chil dren going round in last year's, rags. You do as you’re told and come around next week. I’ll get my money out of you sortie day. Trnst me for that.” Leila felt a rapturous desire to kiss him mid ea.II him names of gratitude. L Ile was generous by Impulse and pa tient, and nobody’s fool at that. The thoughts of tailors are long, long thoughts. „ Daphne sat thinking, hut not of clothes. The labor problem had al most defendnired her. She was study ing the models ns they lounged about the shop. Suddenly she spoke. "“Oh, Mr. Dutilh, how much money does a model earn?” e — “You mean what salary do I pay? Common clothes-horse* get fifteen or sixteen dollars. Better lookers get better pay. You’re worth u thousand A week at least. Want a Job?" “Yes." Ills smile was quenched. He studied her across bis cup. He saw the anx iety In her curiosity. “What's tbe mutter?” he said. “Has he run off with another girl; or do yon | expect to go fishing for a millionaire in my pcuii?” . _ **I need the money. I’ve had hard luck.” Daphne said It so solemnly X T "Show me.' Clay Wlmburn came In after dinner. His protests against Daphne's project were louder than Bayard's, with the added rancor of Jealousy. But he had ~ru) substitute to offer: S^ie forebore to toil him of the. Gerst Rffalr. He was deep enough in the mire. He-went away a Httl'e later ^nd she returned, to her cubbyhole with the Chi wises,— _ . Those were blnck days for all Amer ica, suffering under the backfire from the sudden war and from the long fa tigue of hard times. There were weeks of dread lest the United States be sucked into the muelstrorh at a time when it was,least prepared in money, arms, or spirit. Never, perhaps, In hu- i T xn chronicle bad so many people looked with such bewildered misery on so many people locked in such multifarious carnage. At such n time, as in nn.epoch<of plague, there came a desperate need, of a respite from woe; soldiers sky larked in trenches; war widows danced in gay colors'; - festivals were held in the name of charity ;• frivoli ties and vices were resorted to- that good souls might renew themselves for the hwful work before them. 1 It was ill such a mood of imperative ooane, a attic of him *ad of the gloaming. They emerged abov* tife chain of Croton lakes and fan across the big dam and wound along the shui^ crossing Iroir bridge after iron bridge, till ^hey came to a little, roadside inn whose lights had a yel low warmth. ‘ l “We’re stopping here for dinner,If you don’t mind,” said Duane. Daphne was a trifle ill at ease, but she was hungry, too, and the adventure was exhilarating. There were not many people at u’.fe tables, and they were of an adventurous cast as weltr Whfn Duane had given hlv order he asked Daphne if she would join the rest of the diners who had left their chairs to foxtrot. She shook her bead and he did not urge her. - — But by the time their dinner was served and eaten the nagging, inter minable muSie had played away near ly all her scruples. When Duane looked at her with an appealing smile, she smiled hack, nod ded and .rose. • He leaped* to his feet and took her in his arms. Somehow, it was not mere dancing now. He had ttdd her that be loved her. There was in his embrace an eagerness that was full of deference, hut full of delight as well. After all, demand for cheer ._of some sort that she was'alone with him in a company Tom Duane swam back 'Into Daphne’s that seemed not to be very respectable, gloomy sky. Daphne had come home after a morning of rebuffs. She was heart- sore and footsore,, lri~~shal!by hoots that she could not j-eplne©,—KbC was called- to the telephone, and Duane’s voice chanted In her enr with a tone of peculiarly comforting melancholy. “That you, Miss Kip? This ifT’rne.' Mr. Duane. Boor Tom Duane. Poor Tom’s n*coid. I came hack to town unexpectedly early. I have something important to say to you. Will you tuke a little ride with me In my c rj” “Why. not?" she said, with a laugh. She was glad that he could not see the tears that gushed across her eyelids. “Three cheers for you! I’ll he there In a Jiffy. You couldn't arrange to dine with me, could you? Or could you?" . Again she answered. "Why not?" Duane's voice rang hack: “Tip-fop! You've made me happy ns a box of pups. I'm half-way there ulready.” B«yaM snatched Ilanline to him- .that he grew solemn, too and stormed: "She bought the clothes. Mdn't she. without consulting me? She wouldn't lend ’em back as you did yours; she wore 'em out. paraded ’em before other men there In Newport while I was slaving here. And now that Dutljh insists on money that I haven't got. and can't get, she won't even go explain It to hliu. That’s all I ask her—to explain It to him and ask him to be putlent so that I won't be sued. I can't stand that. I've had •very other calamity hut I’ve never beeu sued for debt. I ask Leila to go tell him about my hard luck and my fine prospects-r-play fair with him— and with me. But will she do It? No! She won’t do anything for me." v Daphne wa&awayed by his emotion. 8he pleaded: “Why don't you, Leila? You have such winning ways. I’ll go with you." Leila hesitated, then answered by taking up her hat and slapping It on her head. She paused, took It off again and went to her room, unhook ing her gown as she went; she knew that In asking favors one should wear one’s best appearances. Bayard grumbled. “How are you getting along a^your office?" ^ -Daphne felt unnhle to Intrude her own ‘troubles on his. She shrugged ber shoulders. It Is a kind of white lie, the shrug. “Hang on lo your job ns long ns you can, old girl, for you’ll hnve to support us nil, I guess. You're the only one of us that can get a job or earn a cent. That’s the advantage!of being a pretty girl.” * Daphne a;us almost moved to tell him some of the dlsadvahtagi s of be ing n p-otty girl, hut she felt that the time was unfit for exploiting her own wots. She ached for some one to dis close them 10, but she withheld them. - Leila canto tn, arrayed In her very finest Sin- was, shilling in the con- tentmenfof beauty at .it’s best. "When you ask credit you’ve got to look as If you didn't need t r -—'wsaid. They found Dutilh in a state of un usual excitement npd exhaustion. ■ There 1 were-few customers m bis place and he left them to the other sales people. lie advanced on Leila and Daphne and gave a hund to each'. “Why, oh why in "the name* of franl Po l re tdidn’t yon coirte in a wrVir ago? The pirates have taken every decm+- gowp The sewitvgWT>iifm -are working like mad to reproduce ’em. hut there's TidtfiTng left fit ; to show, except to Pittsburgh and. Plattshurg touri«tk. Where .did you get that awful rag }oo have oni” . ' * .' “IlerC,” saW LelW ^ “Dli, of course, 1 remember. It’s beautiful. Sit down. I’m dead. Have a cigarette? Have a cup of tea? Oh. Miss Oalvey—tea for three, please. J didn’t forget either of you when I was In Paris. I hare a siren gown for you. "That’s too had! Well. Tie got more-girls now than I need. Nobody ns beautiful M you. of course, but—1 suppose I could let sqme one go.” "Oh. I couldn't think of that!** “Neither could I. Well, I’ll .squeeze you In somewhere. But 1 can't pay you an much as you are worth. Would —umm—twenty dollars a week Inter est you?" “It would fascinate me.” “All right, you’re eqgnged Yon can begin next Monday.” He turned to Leila. “Do you want a J<Jb. too?" "No, thank you!" Leila snapped. Her eyes were blacker than ever with rage, and her red-white cheeks -curdled with shame. She could not (rust herself to apeak. Her brunette beauty had the threat of a stonn- loaded thundercloud. When she and P«w>hne had taken their departure, Leila still dared not speak- to Duphne on the way home. She dared not speak to her at ull. Leila brought triumph to Bayard. She told him what Dutilh had told her of his willingness td wait for his money. Bayurd embraced Leila and hailed her as an angel. When she had taken full toll of her success, she told Bay- Leila Felt a Rapturous Desire-to Kiss Him and Call Him Names of Grati tude. nrd what Daphne had done. She told It simply, without emphasis, knowing its effect. • ' * , "Daphne!" he roared. "You asked Dutilh foi^ a position among his CHAPTER XIX. When Duane came up to the door he greeted her with the beaming Joy- oOMMwut of • rising suu, Hc.I»rtl»*-d her and thanked her for lending hint her time. The elevutor that took their bodies down took ln-r spirits up. She notvu that He tnnl mu brmialii Ids big car with his chauffeur, lie stowed her into a powerful roadster built for two. But ahe had no Inclination to protest. The car caught them away and they sped through Central pnrk with lyrical, with dlthyrambicV sweep. “The trees!—how wonderful they are!" she cried. * They had been wonderful for weeks, but she had thought them dismal. "They’re nothing to what they are in Westchester," said Duane. “Wje’re going to have a look at them uud dine up there somewhere." "Are we?" was all she said. And he said, "We are.” After they left the park and re entered the hard streets she found the courage to remind him: "But you said you bad something important to tell me. What was It?” » “Miss Kip, you’ve played the very devil with me. I thought I was Im mune to the lover germ, but—well. 1 told you the truth about going abroad to shake off the—the fever—the Dnphnltls that attacked me. But I couldn’t get you out of my mind for Ion* or out of N my heart at all. I’m a sick man. Miss Kip, a lovesick man.” “Mr. Duane, you mustn't—I can’t al low you—really!” “ “Oh. yes, you can!” he said, and sent the car ahead with a plunge. “You’re going to listen to me for once. You can’t help yourself. I’m not going to hurt you.. I Just- want you to help me n little. I went up in the Berk- shlres and tried to get my sanity back, but I couldn’t! I couldn’t even play golf—or cards—or drink. People drive me-crazy. I can’t get interested in anything or anybodv but you.” “Mr. Duane, please— You oughtn’t to— I beg you. I have no right—’ T ,“Oh, I know* you’re engaged to Clay WJmburn. He’s a nice k’nTTT’m not one-two-three With him. I'm not try* in~ to cut him out—I couldn't if 1 would. I like him. I’d like to help him, and your brother, too. I/don’t mean to-be^lmpertlnent, either;-but— well, the main thing is, I want to bog you to let me see you onoetn ii while. *Twant to take you.out riding and- dining and dancing and—you ran take Wlmburn along if you've got tor but 1 want you ~trr~snrr"my life somohow. And,- by the Lord Harry ! I think it will save yours. You don’t Ipok well, v ray dear—Miss Kip. It breaks my treaAt to see It. No,- I don’t believe you'rp getting as much fun out of life as you and was growing lgss so every hour. Her feet and all her Ilmhs aad every muscle of her reveled in the gambol, He Couid Imag.ne Her Pretty Head. but expense it money and heart* ache and torture. 1 Suddenly but quietly upon this cur. rent of her thoughts a xbought of Purine's was launched like n skiff con genial to the tide.. He spoke almost softly as a thought* at first with a- quaint shock such us a boat makes, launched. “How often do you go t;o church?” he said, whimsically. “Why—never, I’m afraid,” she gasped in surprise. “You were planning to be married In church?” “Such funny questions! course.” J f ' “Why?” H ' c ■‘Oh, It wouldn’t he nice not to.” - ‘ ~ *u don’t believe In divorce, then?”- “G* yes—yes. Indeed—if people don’t get along together. ’ I think it’s wiclfed for. people to live together If tjiey don’t love each other.” “It’s love, then, that rirtge sacred?” “Yes. Yes, Indeed! Oi course!”* “Is li all. right for tw-o people who are not Christians to live together ac cording to their creeds?” “How do you meant*” * ■„ "Well, the people who lived before there were any Christians—or people who never heard of Christianity—wa> it all right for them to marry?” “Of course." * “It’s not any one formula, then, that makes marriage all right?” “Of chars* Lot, It’s the—the—” “The love?” “I thins so. It’s hurd to vxplatfi/ “Everything Is, isn’t It?” “Terribly." There was nmre silence, ne took a cigar from 'his pocket, hehl 1t. be fore her for permission. She said. "Please.” He struck a match. Sh*- glanced at his fuce lo the little lime light of the match. It was very hand some. A pearl of drowsy luster gleamed In t! • —ft folds of his Me. Tie- sh* teriug tie- match »*-re splendid bands. She watched the cigar fire glow and fnde and the little .turbulent smoke veils float Into the air and die. one of them formed a wreath, a Mrange, frail, w ritlilng circlet of blue filament*. It drifted past her and she put her fin- g»*r Into It—her rlni finger by. soma womanly Instinct. “Now you're married to me." said Duane. « There was a sudden movement oi. lib hands as If to seise u|<**n her. She recoiled a little; bla hands did not pur«we Wr.. TWy sent. Wclf lu ohr '•teertn^ wh«*rl and clung to It fierce ly. She turned from his cased ut her « h*-ek. and » ♦ I.IimmI fciirrlnc tb^-fy I "If you loved me, wou “The Place <f a Skull” - ' By REV. GEORGE GIHLLE Extension Department. Moody Bible Institute, Chicago ** T TEXT—And when they were come -unto L* place called Golgotha, that is td say, a * eS ’ 01 place of ,a skull .... they crucified him.-Matt. 27133-35. The Spirit of God carefully marks • the place - where the Lord was cruci fied. for this, like everything else In the stofy of the cross, has Its meaning. . T lTe __w o r I d , boasts of its wis dom. At every turn.wg are sum moned to hear what it says and to gaze upon its progress a *n d achievements. But It disappoints us. It has brought no pence- ~to earth nor to our sor rowing hearts, and when it comes to removing death, or the sting of death, which is sim- or indeed, any of the darkest shadow* that cloud our lives, we find that it ha* made no progress at all. SUi ami snr- _ row. and death are still the great fact# ©f human experience. Nor has man’s wisdom glv*-n us any knowledge of God and a Ilf** beyond oeuth. The wisest man-that ever lived was buffied In XT* searching “»n “f tin* things that are done under heaven nnd was unable, by wiadom. t<» discover anything about CM save "hi* eternal j^iwer and Godhead.” G**d must re veal himself. Aud he has done so In the ponton of his *nn, of whom It 1« written; “Who of God I* made un to ui wisdom.” Aud the apostle, des canting u|H*n the wisdom of the world, any*. “The Jew* require a sign and the Greeks seek after witlom; but we preach I’hrlst crucified, unto the Jew tin- whi %|si s a *tur Kilif ling bl< M-k. ai ad ui ito Hie eks f IM li It*! tf}f***fll ! but until then* rh nr* 1*1 u|| vH l both Jew ii ami fk«. Oir the |* iu »-r « «f G< *1. and 14 im J..,., UKMH Oi i Au*4 ... • ib* t of c< U\ put to d . 'ha me?" he said. “1—I lore— I, tu gu Somebody else." Wheal” • “Seme day.” . ^ . “If you're not happy, with him. will you leave him?" “Oh. but I’ll l»e happy with him.” "So many people have said that! You've s«-en how seldom H worked. If you ceased to love him, or he you. would you leave him?" “ ’If la a large order. Maybe.” “Wouldn’t it he wUer If two peopla who thought they loved could live ti> a while before they mar- hut her hi-art and tulnd and conscience were troubling her till ahe stopped abort at la«t aud said: \ “I’m sorry, but 1—I’d rather, not dance any more—here." Duane fmused lo, a moment’* chagrin. Then lie sighed: “All right." They retreated to their table, and he looked at tu-r Miuly, ami she sadly at him. Then he seemed to ilk**her even better than before, aud he said, with a very tender smile: ' “Want to go home?” “If you don’t mind.” When they came out upon the vernn- . Ct . t her for da of the hotel the lake was a vast charger of frosted silver among the hills. They sPkk! admiring It for a moment and the music from the hotel seemed to come from another world. He helped her into the cur and they whisked awuy southerly. He returned to the road along the Hudson, pnd It was so beautiful in the moonglow- that it seemed a pity to burry through the wonderland nt such speed. And what was she going buck to that she should be In such haste? She hinted ns much to Duane, nnd he bettered the suggestion. Not only did he check the’speed, hut at one wooded eliffside with a vista of pecu liar -majesty Ire~wheeled out of the ror.d and stopped the car, shut down the chuttering engine and turned off the strenuous lights. They sat utterly content till Duane shook off the blissful stupor. They eye *. but he place of a skull, the utte*- i iii r* vk nf ip r •ntihl feel hmiMtu w iadoui. That place • •f a i skull i a .1 a. hlu«h s Is God’s estimate **f the wi ml* mi ..f d yi i»u niu try t im-nT In# estimate ~~l‘fiiss rici'icil thi.ru of the wisdom of (S< Ui *1. Hum's to marry— How <1 Id man acquire thf* Im .listed tied?" She felt her muscles set as would rise and run away from aucb wisdom? It was by listening to Sa-■ ta n'a lie. The pursuit of knowledge ' was the cnr»*er u|*oii which thud arch liar proposed to set the race, and in following his fatal suggestion thero wa* forfeited that higher wi«doin ; “which (hm! yrdaitn-d before the world | uuto our glory." and “which mute of the princes of this world knew; for had they known It they would not tune crucified the Lord of glory.” For twenty-five hundred years after i the creation, "the Invisible things" of I God were "dearly seen . . . even If ahe ' l*** ^t^rnal power and GodbemJ.” Writ ten across the heavens with accuracy and dearness was that revelation, the words. "Mr. Duane! I don't think If# even to be talking of such thing*' during his glory And the models? Great Lord of heaven. I’ll tele- Mrs. Kip. that will bruik your heart | graph father to come take you home.’* "That’s all right," Daphne taunted ”1 °u'll send the message collect, and be indec-ntly demure In the ooe I' bell never be able to pay for It, so he’ll. nlng wheels murmured. “Why not. why j to own q motor ur^wo. I ineocene*’ - never know what he missed." „ ' not. < with Joy. You'd otarder to get IL And as for you, Ml«s Kip—well, youll slui pi) lEptof was • trifle shocked. b«T "Bat flaratj vein net letla’s rfvs Ailed with tears at the \ that—' •urtffj ot each talk. Su *1 tidh't CUOM t-e bay 1 ind Uf far merry. 1 m ought to^. There Ish’unTuch fun in the world any more, .buf"what little’s left 13 very precious, and I want you to get all that’s going, Won’t you let me help you go after It? Won’t you?” They swung up to a height that com manded a vast reach of the Hudson. Between Its banks It semed to be a river of wine. The western sky was like a forest of autumn haves with the last sad fed pitifully beautlffU, since it must turn so soon to rust. Iq a spirit of haste the fleetly spin- j and feelers of light. She would Ilk* could noTstay hereTRus To rover. They could not stay" much Monger. It was growing cold and late. lie tiiO not dare to look at,Daphne. He did not quite need to. He-could Imagine- her pretty head and the drowsy, adorable eyes, the lips pursed with childish solemnity, ’ the throa’t stem In the urn contour of her shoul- i ders, the vaselike curves of her young •torso. He imagined these ’fronnmiii- ory, for they now were swaddled in a thick mojtorcnnt. But without turning his head he could see her little bands clasped Idly at her knees; the little gloves turned .back at the wrist. He thought that he would like to take them in his—he would like to take all of her In his arms, into his heart, into his keeping.- Yct he did not want to marry her. He did not admire marriage in its’re sults as he saw them in other l>eople. Like’ many another, he cherished Wicked ideals because the everyday . virtues worked out so imperfectly, so unheautlfully. • f * * Daphne was musing almost as vaguely. On the river a yacht at an chor poised like a swan asleep. She would like to-own a .yacht. On th*- opposite side of .the river along the road *he could see motorcar* like !n- | qulsltlve cricket* with gleaming eye*- 1 hMaaywiry?ffkshM«aftiB hsrl— iti and of • }it pnfcrd and dw i w why not. why oorwhynotwhjnotr If she were the'wife of as rich *| Before th* sunset had quMr retln- man as this man nr hef side, how qatitM th# sky the nous was over quickly *he coofd help her father nnd' Bayard "and the wretched victims of thyneanfri In Esnpr nnd m many is Besides, it’s growing late. “It’s not so late as It would be if you married a man and found that your marriage wus a ghastly mistake.” “Hudn’t we better start back?" “Please don’t leave me Just yet. -This Is very solemn to me. I’ve been studying you a long time, trying to get you out of my mind, and only get ting you deeper In wy heart. 1 love you.” “I don't believe it.” “I know’ It.” "Then you oughtn’t to teli me;” "Not tell a woman you love herl Not try to save her from wrecking her life and my own?’’ “How wrecking my—her life?” “I believe that if you marry Clay Wlmburn you’ll he unhappy. He can’t give you a home. He can’t buy you clothes. He can’t support you.” - "Tliat’s not his fault, -just now-— with the hard times and the war; Please let’s go home." “To my home?” That insolence was too appalling to answer, or even to gasp at, or protest against. It stunned her. He took ad vantage of her-daze to explain, hur riedly : “You’re not going to be one of those silly, old-fashioned idiot girls that a niafi can’t talk to earnestly and frank ly, i are you now? Of course you’re not. You're not one of Those poor things whose virtue consists in 'being insulted every time anyone appeals to jheir intelligence, are you? No, you’re a fine, brave soul, nnd you want to know the truth about truth, and so.do L - V •’ . \ "I’m *a decent enough bellow at heart. I want tc do the right thing and Hyp squarely as well as the next fellow. I’ve got n.sense of honor, too, of a sort, and I take life prevty seri ously. “I tell you. the world is all turned topsy-turvy the Dst few years. Th* old rules don’t rule, "fhey never dl<L hut people prelenied tp believe In ’em Now we’re not KtT afraid of the thitfe In science or history or religion or anything. We «sq1 to know tbe truth and live by It. (TO BF CONTINUED.) firmament showing his handiwork. But men “did not like to retain God 1n their knowledge" and "professing themselves to be wise they became fools” and "changed the truth of God Into a lie." Then began their guess- lug. and from that hour one school of thought has displaced another, nnd systems of philosophy have chased each other like shadows across the bills of time. And still, “the world by wisdom knew not God” and “the message of the cross Is to them that perish foolishness” but “the wisdom ~ of this world is foolishness with God” and “the Lord knoweth the reasoning? of the wise that they are vain.” "But after thut in the wisdom of God the world by wisdom knew not God. it pleased God hv the* foolishness of preaching to save them that hell^ve.” nnd^ “we preach Christ the power ol God nntL^he-wisdom^Ttf God.” » ITnppy and wlStnrfoaeJs„he who at the cross of the Lord Jesus has hum bled himself as a sinner to accept the one “made sin" there for him. There, and there alone, .shall he find the an swer to the eternal question. “What la »truth?” for the lips that cannot lie have furnished the one final answer forever: “Lam the Truth.” Oh. the marvel of divine wfsdoln! The very mnrder of the son of God, .outcome of Satan’s lie thut men in pride and Self will still cling to, is the highest wis dom of God, for It is bis perfect .pro vision for human sin nnd guilt—yea, for ever^ need of the human heart. .If you do not believe It, I challenge you to come and see for yourself. His Way. Have we quite ’ learned his - wayl “Teach me thy way, O Lord 1” D< we know how to lift broken 'limbs 1 Do' we - know how to handle. broken lives? Do wo find more delight In denouncing sins than in helping din ners? Are we more exjiert In abstract analysis than In practical’ comfortl There la surely an almost crushing need of gecth-oeas In days like these. Let ns make no mistake about It; «• are not Ians strong when we be- gentle Real grtflnea 1* noi It Is strraftb di»