1G-5 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER: AN AGRICULTURAL AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
|5artiral 
A WORD FOR KOSSUTH. 
BY J. G. WHITTIER. 
Not to the swift nor to the strong 
The battles of the right belong, 
For he who strikes for Freedom wears 
The armor of the captive’s prayers, 
And Nature proffers to his cause 
The strength of her eternal laws; 
While he whose arm assays to bind 
And herd with common brutes his kind, 
Strives evermore at fearful odds 
With Nature and the jealous gods, 
And dares the dread recoil which late 
Or soon, their right shall vindicate. 
<£I }t Jlurnl Ikfttlj 35ouk. 
[Written expressly for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
COUSIN LUCY'S HOME; 
Or, tha Prosa and Poetry of Farming Blended. 
BY A FARMER S WIFE. 
As it is much easior to relate actual oc¬ 
currences than fictitious ones, I have select¬ 
ed William and Lucy Graham, as an illus¬ 
tration of that class of farmers who happily 
blend in their lives and homes the Prose and 
Poetry of rural life. I have made use of 
fictitious names, for obvious reasons; and, 
should the picture be recognized, I trust my 
friends will pardon mo for bringing them 
before the public in this manner, for I think 
their example worthy of being followed by 
all in liko circumstances. 
Cousins William and Lucy commenced 
life with a good common school education, 
and enough of tho “needful” to purchase 
two hundred acres of “ wild land,” and erect 
a comfortable log house; and, what is of still 
moro importance, they possess amiable dis¬ 
positions, with a decided taste for rural life, 
even in its simplest aspect, and hearts to 
listen joyously to “nature’s gayest min¬ 
strels,”—to recognize a Father’s hand in the 
meanest created being, and find volumes of 
pleasant and profitable instruction in the 
germinal ion and growth of plants and flowers. 
In regard to the accumulation of property 
they determined not to sacrifico either 
health or tho improvement of their minds 
to its attainment, but adopted for their mot¬ 
to that inimitable advico of Burns to his 
young friend: 
“ To catch dame Fortune’s golden smile, 
Assiduous wait upon her ; 
And gather gear by every wile, 
That’s justified by honor; 
Not for to hide it in a hedge, 
Not for a train attendant, 
But for the glorious privilege, 
Of being independent.” 
In all things of consequence, cousin Lucy is 
consulted and advises with her husband who 
doos not think it derogatory to his dignity to 
ask the opinion of a wife; and while she ab¬ 
stains from burdening him with potty an¬ 
noyances, which will unavoidably occur, she 
seeks his counsel and sympathy, which is 
over kindly and tenderly given. In their 
plans for improvement, no more is attempt¬ 
ed than can be accomplished by systematic 
and well directed effort — tho amount of 
hired help, in-doors and out, boing regulated 
by the intended results. 
Whatever may be tho incomo of tho farm, 
a suitable portion is invariably placod at 
cousin Lucy’s disposal, thus enabling her to 
go forward with plans pertaining to house¬ 
hold matters, with advantage and comfort 
to herself and others. With them, thoro aro 
no separato interests or selfish indulgences. 
Hero I may bo excused for a short digres¬ 
sion, as it is not wholly irrelevant to the sub¬ 
ject. Much as our sex is accused of improv¬ 
idence and love of show, any husband has a 
far better guaranty that his means will bo 
judiciously expended if he gives tho wife his 
confidence, and tenderly provides for her 
necessities according to his means, however 
small, than if ho grudgingly doled out to her 
a scanty pittance, spending moro for per¬ 
sonal gratification, than would suffice for tho 
purpose of rendering her comfortable. 
I wish I could say there are none in our 
country who belong to tho class of Prof. 
Johnston’s countrymen, as described by him 
in his “Notes on North Amorica,” Vol. 2, 
page 290. After speaking is rather depre¬ 
catory terms of tho groat infiuenco of tho 
female sex in this country, compared with 
that in his own, he rather inconsistently with 
his usual manner, seems to desire to extract 
some, good, from this seeming evil. He says : 
“ This greater influence will not bo without 
good fruits to the humbler classes of Amer¬ 
ican society, if it prevent the establishment 
among them of that very melancholy state 
of things which prevails among the working- 
classes in this country as to the state of tlioir 
earnings. It has been computed that, among 
those whoso earnings are from 10s. to 15s. 
weekly, at least one half is spent by the man 
upon objects in which tho other members of 
the family have no share. Among artizans 
earning from 20s. to 30s. weekly, it is said 
that at least one third of the amount is thus 
selfishly devoted. Americans might con¬ 
sent to submit to many evils arising out of 
excessive female influence, if it can save it¬ 
self from the spread among its skilled la¬ 
borers of such unchristian and selfish and 
ruinous habits as these.” 
To whatever the fact may bo attributable, 
I am happy to say there are few of our in¬ 
dustrious and virtuous men who are so sel¬ 
fish as not to bo willing to share tho fruits 
of their labor with their families; if there 
aro any who aro not willing, Cousin William 
is not of tho number. 
When they first moved to their log house, 
an eligible site was selected for tho new 
house, which was to be built when the prop¬ 
er time should arrive, and all spare moments 
were employed in planting fruit trees and 
shrubbery, to improve the grounds which in 
duo time surrounded a neat substantial 
farm-cottage, and other'Suitable buildings. 
To the happy homo of cousin Lucy has 
been added three daughters and two sons; 
and as each child has been welcomed to tho 
family circle, a fruit tree of somo kind has 
been planted to commemorate the event, to 
bear tho name of the child, and become its 
individual property,—all the profit accruing 
from it, being set aside for tho futuro benefit 
of its owner. Thus from the first recollec¬ 
tion, there is something connected with the 
soil to love, and a desire is felt by all to 
beautify tho homestoad, which tho sons, if I 
mistake not, will never wish to desert, and 
to which tho daughters will ovor turn with 
fondest remembrance. 
By hor systematic management, cousin 
Lucy finds time, with the assistance of her 
daughters, to take care of the bees, the poul¬ 
try, strawberry beds, &c., in which all aro 
intorosted. To enable them to do every 
thing in the best manner, and avail them¬ 
selves of tho experience of others, the table 
in their sitting-room is supplied with the 
best periodicals of tho day, including tho 
best works on Agriculture and Horticulture, 
besidos a good library which has beon grad¬ 
ually accumulating. Cousin William has 
no horror of “ book-farming,” neither does 
he blindly adopt every now theory that 
makes its appearance. He says, fifty dol¬ 
lars judiciously spent in reading matter, is 
a better investment for his children than in 
an additional acre of land. By such advan 
tages, the two elder children, Sarah and Lucy, 
have acquired a good practical education, 
with much less instruction in schools than 
is generally required to accomplish the same 
end. To their intelligent and cultivated 
minds no necessary labor appears degrad¬ 
ing ; they are alike at easo in assisting their 
father and brothers in securing tho products 
of tho farm, in tho gardening operations 
assisting their mother in tho dairy and 
kitchen, or in entertaining their refined and 
intelligent guests. Their rigid standard of 
neatness and simplicity in attire, always 
makes them appear well-dressed. Sarah 
and Lucy have taught school alternately tho 
last threo years, thus advancing their own 
education and adding to thoir independence 
William and Henry, tho third and fourth 
children, now sixteen and fourteen years of 
ago, aro amiablo and intelligent lads. Their 
father, unlike many fathers, has alway 
given them an individual interest in all im 
provements as far as ago would justify; ma¬ 
king himself a companion but never a ty 
rant, not forgetting that he was once him¬ 
self a child—impresssng their minds with 
tho importance of kind treatment, not only 
towards' their parents and sisters, but to 
everything that has inherited life from the 
Fathor of our spirits, and who notes even 
tho “sparrow’s fall.” It is one of cous 
in Lucy’s injunctions to her daughters, 
never to encourago tho advances of any 
young man, whatever his position or pre 
tensions, who is not habitually kind to his 
mother and sisters, for an unkind son or 
brother can never make a good husband. 
But that happy circle is soon to bo bro 
kou, for Sarah is about to unite herself to 
a young tiller of the soil, who is worthy of 
a wife, who will in her family extend the 
benofits of a home influence, as happy as 
the domestic virtues can make it. Lucy 
has under consideration an offer from a ver 
respectable merchant in a populous city 
She shrinks from leaving the alluring 
scenes of a pleasant country life, and hor 
parents would consider it unfortunate for 
lior to be subjected to the inconveniences of 
a city residence. 
Though often solicited, cousin William 
has never consented to take part in any po 
litical or other exciting party strife, any. 
farther than the duty of overy good citizon 
demands;—he has chosen the pursuit of 
Agriculture, and to its advancement 
profers to devote his energies. 
I could givo many incidents relative to 
tho practicability of blending the Prose and 
Poetry in rural life, so that tho labor of 
farm may not sink into tho merest drudgery 
but one, showing that tho latter may bo cul 
tivated in its literal sense, must suffice for 
tho present. 
Somo years ago when Agricultural Soci 
I ©ties were not as numerous as at present 
thero was a Society formed in the County 
where cousin William lived, which was to 
hold its first exhibition in a neighboring 
town. Cousin Lucy and her daughters had 
made up quite an array of articles, both of 
utility and ornament for tho exhibition, when 
ucy said to her husband, “ There is ono 
thing more I should liko to contribute if you 
approve it.” 
“ What is it, my dear ? You know I sel¬ 
dom disapprove any thing you think right.” 
It is a Hymn,” said she, “that I have 
composed to be sung in the tune of ‘ Old 
Hundred,’which I think appropriate as your 
address is to be delivered in tho church.” 
She then repeated tho following Hymn, 
which was approved by the Committee of 
Arrangements and sung on the occasion : 
FARMER'S HYMN. 
We in thy temple, Loud, appear, 
To praise tliy name with hearts sincere, 
For all Thy love and kindness shown, 
And thy paternal care to own. 
Mindful of Thee, O may we live— 1 
“ Seed-time and harvest Thou dost give 
Thy word is sure, Thy promise stands, 
And bounteous plenty crowns our lands. 
Thy goodness Thou dost cause to flow 
To meanest things that dwell below; 
The herds that range the mountain side 
Partake of that unfailing tide. 
The fowls that glide in tipper space, 
Fishes, whose track Thine eye doth trace, 
And flocks that gaze in vallies fair, 
Are equal objects of Thy care. 
O’er these, dominion Thou hast given 
To man, the favored child of Heaven; 
May his untiring kindness prove 
A soul inspired by Heavenly love. 
How many volumes of unwritten poetry 
are gushing up in the pure minds of thou¬ 
sands who dwell in the quiet scenes of coun¬ 
try life, we may never know, but as wo ad¬ 
vance in the true estimation of life and its 
duties, these minds and scenes will be better 
appreciated; and many young persons will 
moro readily seek those scenes when they 
thoroughly learn that ovory needful comfort 
3 attainable on a farm, without being de¬ 
graded by toil, or being obliged to sacrifice 
refinement, health and enjoyment. 
Willow-dell Farm, May, 1852. 
THE RAIL CAR-VIVID DESCRIPTION. 
Would you liko tho luxury of a new sen¬ 
sation ? Take your stand six feet from a 
railroad track,—in tho night, and await tho 
passage of the express train. Thero is no 
wind stirring. Clouds close in the light of 
the stars. The hum of life has ceased— 
Blaoknoss and silenco brood together upon 
the surface of the earth. Afar off tho list- 
ning ear catches a dawning roar. Half 
heard and half felt,—it grows into moro dis¬ 
tinctness,—partly revealed by the trembling 
of tho solid earth and partly felt as a shape¬ 
less horror tilling the air. Every second 
swells its awful volume and deepens its ter¬ 
ror. The earth now quakes under its tread 
a blazing glare as from the eyes of hell, 
flashes livid horror into the surrounding air, 
—and you see crawliug along in snaky track, 
with fiery head crouched to tho ground, and 
its long train swinging from side to side with 
a wavy motion, — a gigantic and terror¬ 
breathing monster, instinct with life and 
power, crushing the earth with its tread, and 
creating a whirl wind with its blasting breath, 
as it sweeps along. 
Is there anything in tho world which im¬ 
presses tho mind with a profounder senso of 
resistless power,—than that enormous mass, 
with its blazing eyes and smoky breath,— 
rushing with the speed of a cannon ball, and 
startling tho air and earth with the over¬ 
whelming horror of its flight ? What would 
tho savage think—seeing it for the first time? 
Imagine such a flight across the country 50 
years ago, unheralded by any rumor of its 
coming, revealing its existence by its pres¬ 
ence, and rushing suddenly into oblivion,— 
as it now rushes into tho darkness while you 
gaze upon the spot where it disappeard, and 
hear only the faint echo of its distant tread. 
What rumors of it would fill the world !— 
What tales of its grandour,—of its speed 
and power,—would startle the credulity of 
tho remotest village gossip !— JY. Y. Times. 
LUXURY IN NEW YORK. 
For the Rural New-Yorker. 
WOMAN. 
Woman, when all things else were given, 
Came as the crowning gift of Heaven. 
“ Not good for man to be alone,” 
Though all Creation were his own. 
Man sinned! He fell! And, O, to know 
His crowning good, his greatest woe, 
Guilty and lost—oh, whither fly 
The glance of the all-piercing eye ! 
No longer fed as angels now, 
His bread he earns by sweat of brow ; 
Thistle and thorn, for plant and flower, 
Grow, and infest tho nuptial bower. 
Sunk and unman’d, O manleSs shame— 
Man on tho woman east the blame 1 
Helpless and sad she said (chagrin’d,) 
“ The serpent ’guiled me, and t sinn’d. 
Stung by remorse her wounded pride 
Adds keen retort when man will chide. 
Both lost! Lo, in their greatest need 
A blessing comes,—The Promised Seed— 
Tho woman's seed, who, by his birth, 
Shall “ bless all nations of the earth ; 
For evil, good shall come in stead; 
His heel shall bruise the serpent’s head.” 
Woman who first brought woe to man, 
First also in Redemption’s plan ; 
Through “ Eve’s lost innocence regained,” 
A more than Paradise obtained. 
Hanover, Pa., 1852. J. S. G. 
Written for the Rural New-Yorker. 
HOME EMBELLISHMENT. 
CHARLEY. 
I am one of that persecuted class denom¬ 
inated old maids. By going quietly about 
the world, taking care not to jostlo my 
neighbors, or hit against any of their rough 
angles, I manage to bo choerful, contented 
and happy. In my multitudinous migrations 
I have had somo opportunity to study hu¬ 
man nature. Lately, I have become a tem¬ 
porary inmate of a crowded boarding house. 
My little room has already begun to look 
homo like, Tho cheerful sun has expanded 
the fragrant flowers I lovo so well to nur¬ 
ture, my canary trills his satisfaction in a 
gayer song than over, and my pictures, 
books and guitar drive “dull care away,” 
and beguile many a pleasant hour. And 
now my heart has found a new object of in¬ 
terest. I’ve noticed on the staircase and in 
the hall and lobby, a lovely child, who 
seemed wandering about at his own sweet 
will, somotimes sitting wearily oji the stairs, 
almost asleep; then loitering at the kitchen 
door, watching tho operations of tho cook; 
then peeping into the half opened doors of 
the different apartments. As by tho rules 
of the house, “No children were permitted 
at tho table,” it was sometime before I could 
ascertain who claimed this little stray waif. 
One morning, attracted by the carol of my 
canary, ho ventured to put his little curly 
head inside my door; he needed little urg¬ 
ing to enter, for he read, with a child’s quick 
instinct his welcome in my face. An ani- 
i mated conversation soon ensued about birds, 
I flowers and pictures, his large blue eyes 
j growing bright, and his cheek flushed with 
i joy as story followed story, while ho sat up- 
! on my knee. 
At length I said to him, “ Charley, won’t 
1 your mamma fee anxious about you if you 
stay so long ?’ 
“ Oh no,” said he, “ Lizzie don’t care.” 
“ Who’s Lizzie ?” 
“ Why, mamma ! She don’t cave, if I'm 
only out of the way. Lizzie made me this 
Messrs. Editors : —Will you permit a 
reader of tho Rural to address a few words 
to your lady readers, this fine spring morn¬ 
ing ? There is a charm connected with 
rural employments at this season, in which 
all should participate, and boing aware that 
many women deprive themselves of these 
pure pleasures, I would inspire thorn with . . , „ ., , ,.. ,. ... 
, ,. , , „ ,, pretty dress, said he, holding up his richly 
a deopor-a more reverential love of the £ mbr £ idered frockj « but Lizzie don’t know 
beauties of Nature. It is a lovo which will j any stor i OS , an d she says I’m a bore. What 
oxpand their souls, and purify thoir thoughts, is a boro ?” said tho sweet child as lie looked 
Not a wild flower that opens its beauties to j trustingly in my face. 
tho vernal sun—not a spire of grass that! “Never mind, now, said 1 tearfully, \ou 
.... . , , . , ,.,, i may stay with mo whenever you like, and 
springs into being, but whispers to us of tho ! w / will very goocl friends.” 
mysterious nature of tho All Benificent— j The dinner bell SOU nded, and a gaily 
Would we study ourselves ? Go out in tho ; dressed young thing vociferated, (in a voice 
forest—-in tho green glade or tho mossy I anything but musical,) “Charley! Charley !’’ 
The Evoking Post gives the following 
graphic picturo of the regal luxury which 
marks the residences of its wealthy citizens 
—and all this is in Republican America: 
“ The private dwellings of our citizens be¬ 
come every year more spacious, more lofty 
and of more amibitious architecture. Dis¬ 
tant quarries are exhausted to supply ma¬ 
terials, and the skill of our architects fatigued 
to furnish imposing plans and to vary the 
ornaments of the exterior. Within, the in¬ 
mates tread on tho choicest carpets woven 
in the looms of Brussels and Turkey; and 
windows are curtained with the costliest and 
most exquisite tissues; the walls are hidden 
with immense mirrors ; tho chimney pieces 
aro of the finest marblo of Italy or Egypt, 
and wrought into tho most elaborate carv¬ 
ings. Veins of water aro conducted to tho 
uppermost stories to supply tho baths, and 
streams of gas leading to every apartment, 
break out into jets of white flame at the will 
of the inmates. The sofas, tho chairs, the 
couches, tho tables, are of the latest Paris 
patterns, and when they have lost their first 
lustre, or have ceasod to be the fashion of 
the day, they are sent to the auctions for 
sale.” 
Gold is a Lethe which, in the eyes of the 
unprincipled, obliterates evil deeds and their 
consequences, and renders a felon perfectly 
spotless. 
dell, where stillness reigns around, broken 
only by the zephyrs murmuring among the 
branches, or the rill’s low singing, and com¬ 
mune with thyself ! Fathom the depths of 
thy being — cherish thy heaven-inspired 
emotions, but pluck from thy heart every 
evil desire. Such communing will strength¬ 
en the heart to onduro, and the hand to la¬ 
bor for those we love. It will deepen our 
affection for tho heart’s chosen friends.— 
And surely we cannot lovo too much. I do 
not mean with a blind and selfish passion, 
which closes tho heart to all save its own, 
but a love, which, whilo it centres upon a 
few, marks a broad circumference. 
The woman who loves her own will ren¬ 
der home attractive. One of the promi¬ 
nent means for effecting this object is rural 
embellishment, horticulture and floriculture. 
These means, when wo are interested in 
them, and when they aro accomplished by 
our own hands, possess the greatest attrac¬ 
tions. A bouquet recieved from tho hand 
that planted tho shrub, or sowed the seed 
and nursed tho tender buds until, smiling 
thankfully, they repay the care with open¬ 
ing beauty, is far dearer than tho rarest 
exotic bought with money—for money is not 
tho price of love. Then would you render 
Home the dearest spot on earth ? fear not 
to toil. Would you impress the’truth that 
“ They wander wide who roam, 
For tho joys of earth, from Home,” 
toil —not with murmuriugs on tho v/ay, but 
with a willing hand, prompted by a loving 
hoart. Toil, not as a task, but a precious 
boon conferred by Heaven. 
Oil, there is a balm in labor, 
That can heal with sovereign might; 
Dispelling every cloud and vapor, 
If the heart is only right! 
Labor is a good that bringeth 
To the toiler sweet repose; 
And a song of love lie singeth, 
Who to duty’s labor goes. 
Homo will have but few attractions if 
woman’s cheerful voice is changed to harsh¬ 
ness, or if the fountain of homo joys is poi¬ 
soned with corroding care. Then, my sisters, 
throw around your home a magic circle, 
that shall enchant all within its precincts. 
Spring is a good time to begin ; and in due 
season, buds and blossoms will wreath them¬ 
selves about the circle, rendering the place 
a miniature paradise, through which the air 
of love, of purity, and elevating virtue shall 
breathe, “ This is our chosen spot; here let 
us dwell together.” L. A. Jenkins. 
Waterloo, N. Y., May, 1852. 
The Best Friend. —Tho most agreeable 
of all companions is a simple, frank man, 
without any pretensions to an oppressive 
■greatness,—one who lives life and under¬ 
stands the use of it; obliging alike at all 
hours ; above all, of a golden temper, and 
steadfast as an anchor. For such a one wo 
gladly exchange the greatest genius, the 
most brilliant wit, tho porofundest thinker. 
When I apologized for keeping him, she 
said carelessly, as she re-arranged her brace¬ 
lets, “ Oh, it don’t signify, if you can have 
patience with him, he’s so tiresome with his 
questions. I’ve bobgjit him heaps of toys, 
but ho never wants to play, and is forever 
asking such old fashioned questions. Keep 
him and welcome, when you like, but take 
my word for it, you’ll repent your bargain 
and she trippod gaily down to dinner. 
Poor little Charley! Time is plenty to 
adjust all those silken ringlets, timo to em¬ 
broider all those gay dresses, time to linger 
till midnight over the last new novel; but 
for tho soul that looked forth from thoso 
eyes, no timo to sow the good seed, no time 
to watch lest the enemy should “ sow taros.” 
From that time Charley and I were in¬ 
separable ; the thoughtless mother, well con¬ 
tent to pass her time devouring all sorts of 
literature, or in the idle gossip with her 
drawing room companions; the young father 
weary with business troubles, contonting 
himself with a quiet “good night,” and clos¬ 
ing the day by a visit to the theatre or con¬ 
cert room; poor Charley, being meanwhile, 
put to bed for safe keeping, would lio hours, 
tossing restlessly from side to side, “ with 
nothing in his mind,” as he innocently said 
to mo. What a joy to sit by his side and 
beguile the lonely hours. Thero I learned 
to understand the meaning of the Savior’s 
words, “ For of such is the Kingdom of 
Heaven.” 
In his clear silvery tones, he would repeat 
after me, “ Our Father,” asking mo the 
meaning of every petition ; then ho would 
say,—“ Why don’t you tell Lizzie ? Lizzie 
don't know any prayers !” 
One night I sumg these lines— 
“ Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood, 
Stand dressed in living green ” 
He raised himself in bed, while the tears 
trembled on his long lashes and said, “ Oh, 
sing that again— it seems as though I saw a 
beautiful picture !” Then taking my guitar, 
I would sit by his bedside, and watch the 
blue eyos droop and grow heavy with slum¬ 
ber as I sang to him. And she ! whose duty 
and joy and pride it should have been, to 
lead those little feet to Him who biddeth 
“little children to come,” was indolently 
and contentedly bound in flowery fetters of 
her own weaving,—unmindful that an an¬ 
gel’s destiny was entrusted to her careless 
keeping. 
Little Charley lay tossing in his little bed 
with a high fever. It is needless to say the 
hold he had upon my heart and services.— 
His childish mother, either unable or un¬ 
willing to see his danger, had left me in 
charge of him, (drawn from his side by the 
attractions of a great military ball.) I 
changed his heated pillows, gave him tho 
cooling draught, bathed his feverish temples, 
and finally at his request, rocked him gently 
in my arms, to quiet his restlessness. Ho 
placed his little arms caressingly about my 
neek, and 6aid feebly, “ Sing to me of Heav¬ 
en.” When I finished, ho looked languidly 
up, saying, “ Where’s Lizzie ? I must kiss 
Lizzie /” and as tho words died on his lips, 
his eye drooped, his heart fluttered like a 
prison bird, and little Charley was counted 
one in the Heavenly Fold. 
As I closed his eyes, and crossod the 
dimpled hands peacefully upon his breast, 
his last words rang fearfully in my ears,— 
Where's Lizzie !”—Boston Olive Branch. 
The Minden Herald, in reply to the ques¬ 
tion of, what aro woman’s rights, says :— 
“They are to lovo her ‘lord’ with all her 
heart, and the ‘baby’ as herself—and bake 
good bread.” 
We are taught to clothe our minds as we 
do our bodies, after tho fashion in vogue ; 
and it is accounted fantastical ness, or some¬ 
thing worse, not to do so.— Locke. 
