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Tired* I am tired. Heart and feet Turn fi-oin busy mart and street: I am tired?liost is sweet. ' ? I am tired. I have played In tto sun and in the shade, 1 have seen the flowers fade, \> ' i 1 am tired. I linvo had What has made my spirit glad What has mado my spirit sad. I am tired. Loss and gain ! Golden sheaves and scatter'd grain ! Day has not been spent in vain. I am tired. Eventide Bids mo lay cares aside, Bids me in my hopes abido. 1 am tirod. God is near. Let mo sleep without a fear, Let mo Uie without a tear. ] ain tired. I would rest As the bird within its nest I I am tired. Home is best. EARNING HER LIVING. Minna's room was not light at th tnoaf~ /\F f l* m oa Tf o /\n a Tiring/Mir rvlnnt wvuv VI. VI UiUO. XIO vug niUUVTT, ^i?UW ed dormer-fashion in the roof, gave i view of the blank whitewashed sidi of an adjoining house, which towerei ap a story or so higher than it anpretentious neighbors. But Minna?a personage who alway made the best of things?had abso hitely persuaded herself th&t this wa ihe best light in the world for her oil painting. "There are no bursts of sunshine oi itray sunbeams to disturb the clear Bool atmosphere," said she. "Artist! always prefer this sort of light." For Minna Morton was a working girl. Too delicate to stand behind tli< tounter or superintend the busy loom ?he yet endeavored to earn her owr !ivelihood by means of an artist's pal ette and sheaf of brushes. Her outfit had cost a conslderabh iuiii?mere was no denying tnat; Dui Rosa Hale, who stitched kid gloves it * down-town factory, had lent her th< money for the purchase, and little Bess Beaton, the landlady's daughter "sat" to her two hours every day aftei ichool, quite satisfied with ginger bread nuts to munch and a battered rag doll, which had belonged to Minna's own younger days, to play with. And Minna was young and hopeful, and in the far distance saw hersell acquiring name and fortune by means ?f her beloved art. This morning, however, the roon eemed a degree gloomier than itf nmiol ntnni'. 1 1 -? ? uoum nuui, nuu vvucjii juiuqu arranged her canvas on the easel, a dim sorl of misgiving crept across her heart. It was a simple picture that she had painted?a little girl playing on a sun flecked barn-floor, with a brood ol chickens fluttering around her, and s stealthy cat advancing from beneatk tangled masses of hay. Yesterday the little girl had seemed animated with real, actual life; the haj had seemed to rustle in the wind; on* eould almost perceive the sinuous, gliding motion of the cat. But to-daj it was as if a leaden spell had descended upon everything. "A.m I an artist?" Minna asked herself; "or am I not?" Rose Hale's step, coming softly dowr the stairH. ftrniisp^ hoi* ?> ,,, _ , ? ?V* ( UAJO' greeable reverie. She hurried to the door, with the almost invisible limp which had always haunted her since that unlucky fall of her childhood. "Rosa," she said, "are you in a hurry ? Do come in a moment!" And Ro*a came in, with her little brown bonnet neatly tied underneath her chin, and her lunch-basket in hei hand, on her way to the factory where "real imported kid gloves, fresh froir Paris," ware turned out by the dozen gross a day. "What is it, Minna?" she askec cheerfully. "Look at this picture," said Minna drawing her up in front of the easel, "Well, I'm looking," said Rosa. "What do you think of it?" What do I think of it?" Rosa re peated. "Why, I think it is beautiful!' "Oh, I know thatl" impatiently cried Minna. "The bits of hay ar< painted to perfection, and the rat holes in the barn-floor are copied ex Actly after that one In the corner o: the cupboard; but all that isn't trui art, Rosa. Does the child look as i he WOlllfl HT\A?lr t-A - All w "The checks in her gingham aproi are painted beautifully," said Rosa timidly. Minna frowned. "But the cat?' Bald she. "Iff It i live cat? Do you fancy you are goinj to see her spring?" "N-no," unwillingly admitted Kosa "It's a lovely cat, but it is only a picl tire of a cat! Minna?dear Minna, haven't offended you, hare I?" . "Oh, nol" said Minna, lightly. "Bu you have told me exactly what 1 want ed to know?what I was sure of m> self. Good-by, Rosa!?and mind yo don't bring me any mora of those dell t i <oua little bouquets. They're lovels but they cost five cents, and you haven't any five-cent pieces to throw away." And so, with a loving kiss, she dismissed the pink-cheeked little factorygirl, who was always so kind to her; and then she sat down in the Upas shadow of the dismal whitewashed wall, and cried: "I knew It all along," she declared. "You are a hideous little imposter!" (to the simpering figure in the foreground). "And you" (to the cat) "are simply a thing of wood. And I am not an artist at all! If?" "Iiat, tat, tat!" came a soft knock at the door. Minna started guiltily to her feet, and dashed away the wot spray of tears from her cheek "Come in!" said she. And to her horror, she saw standing there a tall, pleas ant-faced young man. "What did you please to want?" taid she, rather timidly. e "I?I beg your pardon!" said he. _ "But are you the young lady who sent a a note to Palmer & Co., picture deal0 ers? My father has an attack of lum4-u 1.1 _ *. _ I uttgu bins iiiuimiig, ami uo is iniauio iu 3 come out. lie has sent me in his stead." s Minna colored deeply as she remembered that in her elation of the day g before she had actually been so foolish . as to write to Palmer & Co. to send up an expert to value her picture for the r salesroom. "AVhere is the picture?" ho asked. 3 "Is this it?" "Yes," Minna answered, with an . odd, choking sensation in her throat 3 "But?but?" It was of no use. The tears would x come. She sat down in the cushioned . window-seat, and hid her face in her hands. } "Has anything happened?" asked t Mr. Paul Palmer, genuinely disconl certed. j "Nothing more than might have , been expected," said Minna, trying to smile. "Please don't think me foolish! . Yesterday I fancied that this daub of mine was a gem of art. Now my eyes ^ have been opened. I know that it is worthless!" Mr. Palmer glanced scrutinizingly at the picture. > "But," said he, "are you sure that. . you are the best judge?" "One can trust one's own instinct," { said Minna, sadly. "I am sorry to j have given you so much unnecessary trouble. But I am not rich, and I , tuougnt l nad discovered a way of earning my living. It ia a bitter disL appointment to me; but I suppose it is an old story to you, Mr. Palmer." r Paul was silent. In the course of k his business he had witnessed many L trying scenes, but his heart ached for this pale little girl, with the sunny, j ilax-gold hair brushed away from her ? forehead, and the almost imperceptible j limp in her gait. It seemed to him as if he could read her story almost as ' plainly as if it were written on her face in printed sentences. "Suppose you let me take the picture home and submit it to my father's opinion?" he said, calmly. { "I do not believe it will be of any use," sighed Minna. "It seems as if my eyes had been unsealed all too late. I am no artist- I am nnlv a. fmnH Oh, yes," as he looked inquiringly at , her, "you can take it The sooner I know my fate, tne better it will be for me." So Mr. Palmer wrapped up the can) vas in a piece of brown paper, bowed { a quiet "good-by," and departed. All that day Minna sat in a sort of ^ terrified suspense, scarcely daring to ( breatha Toward night Mr. Palmer ( came back. "Well?" she gasped, breathlessly, j "I am happy to say that the picture is accepted," said he. "1 have brought you twenty-five dollars for it. And I would like a pair of smaller ones? companion subjects?as soon as you can furnish them." Minna Morton gave a little gasp for ? breath. r "Oh I" she cried, "you do not really 5 mean It AcceptedI and more wanted! Oh, it don't seem possible!" . "How soon can you have them f ready?" said Paul, quietly. "In a 3 month ?" f "Yes, In less time than that," answered Minna, half giddy with delimit* ?T ~V.~ 11 1- A J j iiguu. x ounu wwin. uay nuu lii^nu Oh, Mr. Palmer, bow kind you are! Indeed, indeed, you do not know what all this means for me!" If Minna could have been tempora? rily clairvoyant that d^y?if she could have followed Paul Palmer back to the u.t "art emporium/* where bis father, S. half doubled up with lumbago, sat I viewing his recent acquisition through an eye-glass?what would have been t her feelings? "Paul," said he, ourtly, "this thing - that you have brought home isn't u vror.th shop-room T* ;; "What is the tnattef with it* air?" r, "Nothing?nothing on earth. The . V .. ' . rj . - /'J! v. / '.' 4* "V-"'- r ' ' <.;5 ; V '' ' ' ??? ? I trouble," said Mr. Palmer, vindictive ly, "is that there is nothing to it. I1 is negativo from beginning to end Tell the artist we can find no sale foi such trash I" But Paul Palmer carried back n< such message. He went and cam< often. He spoke words of kindl} encouragement to the poor young girl and paid, out of his own pocket, liber al prices for her efforts. And one day he asked her to be hi rife, and Minna promised that sh< would. "Heretofore," said she, "I have al ways dreamed of devoting myself t< art; but of late I am not so hopeful It seems as if my poor pinions are no strong enough to soar. Yes, Paul, i you care for a helpless lame girl lik< me?" "I love you, Minna," he said, simply "If you will trust yourself to me, will never give you cause to repent it.' It was not until they had been mar ried some years, and old Air. Palmer the picture dealer, was dead and bur Af.v J--' 41 * ??-??, iiuiu auiuiiu, nauuermg mrougi the desert r.l rooms of the old w ire house, with ii rosy-cheeked child cling ingtoi'.ko skirts of her gown, cam* across soiiu*. Must-powdered canvasses with their faces turned to the wall. "Oh, ln,,:c, mamma!" cried littl< Paul. "What are these?" "Let us examine them, dear,"* sai( she. They were her own long-forgottei efforts! She stood looking at them through a mist of tears and smiles. "Dear, noble Paul!" she murmurec to herself. "This only adds to th< debt of gratitude that I already owi him. But he need not have been s< tender of my feelings. I know no\i mat arc, so iar as l am concerned was a delusion and a snare. I knov that my truest happiness, my greatesi felicity, has been in cherishing hiir and the children." And she never told Paul that sh< had discovered his long-guarded secret ?Helen Forrest Graves. Proud Deacons. Human nature is much the sam< the world over, and if the following anecdotes have Scotchmon for theii heroes, the same thing might hav< happened anywhere else than in tin highlands. It should bo said that ii Scotland a deacon is the chairman of: corporation of tradesmen, and not i church officer. Two worthy incumbents,who frettei their little hour upon a stage not fai from the banks of the Ayr. hapnenec to be chosen deacons on the same day. The more youthful of the two flew home to tell his young wife what ar important prop of the civic edifice h( had been allowed to become; ant searching the "but and ben" in vain ran out to the byre, where, meetinj the cow, he could no longer contaii bis joy, but, in the fullness of hii heart, clasped her round the neck, ex claiming: "Oh, crumraie, crummie, ye're na( langer a common cow?ye're a dea con's cow!" The elder civic dignitary was a se date, pious person, and felt rathe: "blate" in showing to his wife that lu was uplifted above this world's honors As he thought, however, it was to< good a piece of news to allow her ti remain any time ignorant of, he lifted the latch of his own door, and stretch ing his head inward? "Nelly'" said he, in a voice tha made Nelly all ears and eyes, "gif ony body comes spierin' for the deacon, I'n just owre the gate at John Tamson'sl' Hnman Electrotypes. M. Kergovatz, a chemist of Brest has proposed a new method of dispos ing of the human body after death which he considers preferable in ever way tot either burial or cremation His system is an antiseptic one, mucl - simpler and less expensive than th< old process of embalming, and is noth ing more than a new galvanoplastii application. The body is coated witl a conducting substance, such as plum bago, or is bathed with a solution o nitrate of silver, the after decomposi tion of which, under the influence o sunlight, leaves a finely divided depos it of metallic silver. It is then place< in a bath of copper sulphate, and con nected for electrolysis with severs cells, of gravity or other battery ol constant current. The result is tha the body is incased in a skin of copper which prevents further change o chemical action. If desired, this ma; be again plated with gold or silver According to the taste or wealth o the friends of the dead. M. Kergov atz has employed the process elevei times on human subjects, and on man; animals, and states that in all oases i was perfectly satisfactory. In spite however, of his warm recommenda tlon, the idea Is {epulsive. It seems i mockery to give permanence to thi temple, when all that once made 1 valuable is gone.?Scientific American 'Mfc. . ' j . . . ; ^ >, y ; THE SIEGE OF ATLANTA.'8 Reminiscence of Sherman's r March to the Sea. I 3 I How Georgia'8 Capital was Beleagured 0 and Defended, r ? Noting the discovery of an old - bombshell by an Atlanta well-digger, the Constitution of that city says: a During the seige of Atlanta in 18C4, e it was a practical question and one of vital interest how to dodge them. - Gradually the Confederate lines drew 31 nearer the city. The faint echo of their guns was heard ten miles away, t When the lines fell back to the river ' there was a universal wail in Atlanta. a The river had been regarded as a barrier beyond which the invader could not come, and there was a constant 1 expectation that Johnston . would do something to paralize his enemy. One evening about dusk came the ? news to the city that the Confederate - troops had crossed the river and , i burned the bridge behind them. That t - announcement stilled a thousand - hearts in the beleaguered city. There ? j was then no alternative but capture. ^ . The people knew the relative force of a the armies. They were well aware x j that Sherman had over 100,000 men j elated with a successful march into ] 1 the heart of their enemy's country, a while opposing them were about 40,- r i 000 men in grey, who had been fight- ^ . ing a slow and desperate retreat. g After the river was crossed the f I Federal army swept with little ob- j > struction to the very outskirts of the v 3 city. Atlanta then had a regular pop- r j ulation of about 10,000, but the con- s r centration of war supplies and the im- ^ nf '* * ? ? ; '' j uuiitfU (itvaV/iicu LU lb H3 ii UA96 OI ^ r supplies had run the population up to g t 20,000 or 25,000. The city was teem- t i ing with people, all in great agitation f when they heard that the invader had a > set his foot on the eastern bank of the ^ . Chattahoochee, r .IIow to defend the city was the next e question. It was answered by some j very practical and intelligent men t J whose duty to the Southern Confeder- a ; acy had kept them in or around A.t- u f lanta. Chief among these was Colonel ^ 3 L. P. Grant the present president of , J the Atlanta and West Point Railroad, f ? Colonel Grant planned three complete y ? lines of fortifications. One was to c i skirt the boundary of the city. The s other was to surround the thickly-set- c I tied districts, while the third was to t r encircle the very heart of thtf city, with c 1 4i. - n A - ~ mu ^ourwiouse as a sort of linal rani- t] part and stronghold. All these works ^ ' were duly constructed according to ( i Colonel Grant's plans, and the defences s } of Atlanta, were famous for their j, I ingenuity and strength. But the ^ , Federal forces fought their way on ^ 5 until they were within cannon shot of s 1 the city. The}7 tried by several des- j ; perate assaults like that of J uly 22d, a mile beyond the cemetery, and like the bloody onslaught on Peachtree Creek, 5 a few days later, to sweep right into t the city. In all these efforts they i: were checked by a force hardly half as e great as that of the invaders. McPhert son fell in sight of the city. Many ? 1 officers of minor rank felL Men were \ i. mowed down like wheat by the de- fi 3 termined defenders of the city. It p 2 must be a slow seige to win. p ) Sherman realized this fact quickly, d and accordingly adjusted his forces, a Batteries with the heaviest guns he t I could command were placed in front v of the Federal lines. Thev were al- r ] most completely around the city. I a 1 Their range was four or five miles, and h they had only a mile or a mile and a t half to cover. Shells poured thick o s into the city, and a reign of terror be- s gan. h , Then came the bomb proof. It was i the only refuge from the shells of the e . beseigers. Every household soon had its a J place of refuge. The bomb proof con- n E sisted of a perpendicular hole in the e ground about four feet square, and a ii t tunnel of six feet which led into a b i vault of various dimensions. The av- p erage size of the bomb proof was 10x12 b I feet, but many of them were larger. 1] Some of them were luxuriously fur- e I nished, and offered all the comforts of b home tag the retreat under ground tl i from the sizzling and popping sheila it So far as protection to life was con- d ! cerned they were perfect. No shell ti I could penetrate through the roof of p I soil, and there, was not a chance in a h j million that any of the enemy's mis- n i siles would fall in the narrow entrance, it I The bomb Droof was a eomnlet? nrn. n . r x? taction from the enemy's fiery missiles, d and saved many a life in Atlanta, a Thousands of shells fell in the city tl during the six weeks of terror, and p not half a dozen lives were lost. The d most fatal shell fell just in front of p where James'a bunk now is. It ex- ii ploded in the street. One piece killed -vs a shoemaker in a cellar. Another frag* a ment murdered a mule oa the street, fi Another piece broke the stone poet at ti the corner which still bears the mark, to .Av \ ''.-ii/ v' ' > . .* '?- ' 1' ' / -J % i '? '-A* ih -fuw/ziMi, .v>'!Vv 1 /HHiBIHKHHHHBSBBHBKBHI > i - . . ". ;~r ' V i is does the gas post a few feet away, vhich was almost cut away by the urious shell. The bomb proofs remained long aff;er the seige. they were objects of jreat curiosity to the captors of the :ity. When Sherman drove the peo)le out of Atlanta and burned their louses, the bomb proofs escaped his vengeance. Many of them remained xntil the new city began to rise, and here are still in many gardens of this :ity traces of these improvished deences of the women and chileren of Atlanta. The Wolf Spider. Suddenly appears on the wall a dark jray fly or perhaps a beetle. It moves vith wonderful quickness, but always jy fits and starts, sometimes one way ind then another. All at once it larts a few inches from the wall and hen flies back again to the same spot. This action is several times repeated, md is so quick that the creature's vings cannot bo seen. I approach the vail more closely, and find that the ireature is neither fly nor beetle, nor i r cu nil maccu XL lb 11 nUHtlllg SpiUOT, ind of course has no wings. How, hen, did it fly from the wall and back igain? I have long been familiar vith these pretty and active spiders. [ have often seen them, sidle cautiousy toward a fly, leap up".- ~t, and have i sharp tussle with D^fore it suoumbed to the venomed fangs. Winlow sills, especially when facing outhward are happy hunting grounds or this spider. I had often seen spi[er and lly tumble together off the vindow sill, and presently the spider eturn still clasping its prey. It had aved itself from falling to the ground >y spinning a thread as it rolled off he sill, and wa3 able to regain its poition by climbing up the thread. But intil lately I had never seen it leap rom a perpendicular wall, and to ill appearances fly back again. The hread affords the means whereby this etnarkable feat is .perfomed. It is xtremely elastic, and when the spider ias reached the end of its leap the hread contracts and jerks it back igain, just as a child throws a ball iway from him, and draws it back to lis hand by an india-rubber thread vhich is attached to it. How I had ailed t > notice this action for so many ears I cannot imagine. Even the common wolf spider will act in the ame way. J caught a glimpse of the reature crouching in the wall under he shadow of a vine leaf, so that I ould not identify it. Suddenly it larted from the wall and alighted on he ground at some little distance, the lastic thread causing it to describe a low and graceful curve, just as if it lad wings. As it darted from the vail I put the net over it, and, much o my suprise, found that it was no inect, but a wolf spider.?Longman' v Magazine. \ ~ I Tlio Mind's Activity Daring Sleep. In connection with the present acr ivity in psychical research, the followag extract from the recently publishd "Life of Agasaiz" is of interest. "He (Agassiz) had been for two treeks striving to decipher the somevrhat obscure impressions of a fossil ish on a stone slab in which it was reserved. "Weary and perplexed he >ut his work aside at last, and tried to ismiss it from his mind. Shortly iter, he waked one night persuaded hat while asleep he had seen his lish vith all the missing features perfectly estored. But when he tried to hold nd make fast the image, it escaped im. Nevertheless, he went early to he Jardin des Plait.es, thinking that n looking anew at the impiession he hould see something which would put im on the track of his vision. In vain ] -the blurred record was as blank as ] ver. The next night he saw the fish gain, but with no more satisfactory esult. When he awoke it disappear* ( d from his memory as before. Hop- , ig that the same experience might j e repeated on the third night, he ] laced a pencil and paper beside his , ed before going to sleep. According- \ 7, toward morning, the fish reappeard in his dream, confusedly at first, . ut, at last, with such distinctness , hat he had no longer any doubt as to , ;s zoological characters. Still half . reaming, in perfect ^darkness, he | raced these characters on tne sheet of ] aper at the bedside. In the morning ( e was surprised to see in his noctur- ( ai sketch features which he thought , ; impossible the fossil itself should ( eveal. He hastened to the Jardin es Plantes, and, with his drawing for guide, succeeded in chiseling away ae surface of the stone under which , ortions of the fish proved to be hiden. When wholly exposed, it corresonded with his dream and his drawlg, and he succeeded in classifying it , ith ease. He often spoke of this aa good illustration of the well-known ict, that when the body is at rest the t red brain will do the work it refused t sfore." ( j" -1 p M ?*?>' ''. " ^ SCIENTIFIC SCUAFS. The sea is salt because of the great quantities of chloride of sodium washed into it from tiie mountains. A four-hundred-weight "lead" sent down from the Challenger in the abysses of New Guinea struck bottom at the tremendous depth of 4450 fathoms, or 20,700 feet, which is the ' deepest sea sounding yet effected. The French government has had constructed a machine which, with the engine operating it, weighs some thirty-live tons, which will cut steel plates an inch in thickness. It is used in cutting plates for swift cruisers. "The Monk," a well known landmark of the Faroe Isles, five miles south of Sumbo, has disappeared. It was nearly 100 feet high, and it bore on its top several large boulders. Part of this curious rock had fallen last vear. but ir. was rmt until mnonUn ^ , ? ~ .. lUOtUtlJ that its entire disappearance was announced. The retina of the living eye hasbeen photographed by two Euglish operators. Owing to the non actinic color of the retina, an exposure of twenty minutes by gaslight was required with an extra sensitive gelatine plate. Although small, the negative shows the bifurcation of the blood vessels, and also the edge of the blind spot. While only 225 miles long and 8J> wide, the Island of Formosa, just, conquered by the French, is very valuable for its richness jin animal and vegetable life. One of its products is camphor, of which it is the world'& chief source of sudpIv. although t.hi> A. 4. ? ' O tree (Laurus camphora) also grows in Borneo, Sumatra, Japan and China. The camphor is distilled from the finely cut wood in gently heated crucibles, the vapors being condensed upon, a network of rice stem. Man is not the only animal that suicides. Herrings and other fishes have sought death by rushing ashore in. myriads; regiments of ants, by deliberately marching into streams; swarms of rats, by migrating in the face of their deadly foes; and even butterflies,, by flying in immense clouds straightout to sea. It would be interesting tolearn the causes of such cases of apparent wholesale and deliberate selfdestruction. Is the act a purely conscious one, or are the creatures victims of disease?mental or physical? K is Feet Were Not Adapted to It. Many and curious are the means devised to accomplish our ends. The following is said to have been the^ way actually used by a mother to remove from the mind of her son an idea of which he was strongly pos_ sessed : ' William X. was an awkward country boy, with immensely large feet and with less than the average amount of mental ability. He had. in some way got it into liis head that, he was intended by Providence for a. clergymen, and no amount of reason- , ing by his mother and friends could persuade him to abandon the idea, until this happy thought struck themother. Opening her Bible at the52d chapter of Isaiah she read to her Bon the verse commencing, "Howbeautiful upon the mountains are the? feet of him that bringeth good* tidings, that publisheth peace." Then turning to her son, she said : "Now,. wiin.M 1-- ? ? - ? hamuli, ;uui i\uuw "juur i66i ur6 not* beautiful; they are too large to bebeautiful." This argument was convincing and William has never sincementioned the idea of studying for theministry.?Boston Journal.. Dofes In False Skins. In the window of a down-town animal and bird store is a piece of pasteboard on which is painted, "No dogs, in wigs here." ^ "I'll tell you what it means/' said the proprietor. "One of those unprincipled street peddlers had the impudence to Btand on the corner down below here and sell an ecru poodle toil customer of mine for $3. She took ' it home, and next day she came herewith it. What do you think ? It was i nasty, little short-haired yellow dog,, with the skin of an ecru poodle sewed, iver It. The fellow had probably lost, i poodle, and took that way to sav? :he price of it I have read that ink London, before dog fanciers were 11sensed, all sorts of dogs were put - intone skins of those that died, and that rats, even, were sewed up in dogsjkins and sold."?New York Sun. He Objoctod. "Remember those chickens yon sold ne Saturday?" " Certainly." u Spring chickens, weren't they f " u A? firu-j. ? - v \jl uuuiau u urtt waa me matter vith them?" "Oh, nothing. The springs were ill there, only X wanted -to tell you that ^ he next time I want a pair with rubier springs. Wire springs are too rich or my blood."?Philadelphia Call v..-'' ' v. i *' ' H s. .vVi\X< . -