v
NORTH GEORGIA TIMES :‘S>Se’. v ••
Vol. VIII. New Series.
I"unity. •—
Like a shy startled thing she stood
In the wild tangle of the wood;
Her violet eyes in sweet surprise '
Seemed fotne fair shadowing of the skies;
In her white hands some bluebells spent
Their dying breath in soft content
Her parted lips their white pearls showing,
Her cheeks like rose-hues paling, glowing,
And all her child-like innocence.
Guide, guard, protector and defense.
What started her? A heavy tread
Through the dim aisles, arched overhead
By sun-flecked leaves and vibrant boughs,
And what of heaven such shade allows.
All day sweet sounds had been a-stlr—
The soft, far-reaching orchestra
Of birds, bees, whispering winds—and over
The nearer fields of grass and clover
Came tinkling cow-bells sifting through,
As violets tint the dusk and dew.
A tramp comes onl the pine-leaves sweet
Shudder beneath his naked feet;
He stops, wild,hungry, outlawed, fierce;
His haggard eyes the girl's eyes pierce;
But something in their tender light
Checks his half-savage mood, despite
The lawless, desperate soul within
That seldom stops at soil or sin:
He moves aside—she passes by,
Saved by the power of purity.
—IMary A. Denison in Frank Leslie's
THE RIVALS.
BT JOHN P. SJOLANDER.
"Now that wo understand each other
lot uj shako hands and be friends.”
"That’s it." ~f !
ffh-iir hands met in a £rm grasp.
They looked into each other’s faces,
one with a morry twinkle in his eyo and
a broad smile over his jovial features:
the other, with a glance long drawn
out, grave and solemn, that seemed to
last a shadow of gloom on everything
About the scene.
"You’ll do your best, and I’ll do my
Jest. That’s what we’ve agreed on,
ain’t it, Zip Tifkins?”
‘'That’s it, Ben Button, and which¬
ever of us wins, the othor.shall hoar no
ill will?” , ■\
"Just so, Zip.”
"And everything except murder shall
bo counted fair.”
• L “Eh?”
"And murder, too, if you are willing
to take tho consequences.”
"Say, Zip, hold on!”
“So if I should put you out of my
way right here,” continued Zip without
seeming to notico tho interruption, and
drawing a small pistol out of his boot¬
leg as he spoke, "and it would never bo
found out on me, why it would bo al
right."
“But, Zip, say—”
"Or if I wero found out," Zip still
continued, raising the pistol higher and
higher till it pointed straight for Ben’s
breast, “and I were willing to take all
tho risk to get clear, which I think I
am ready to do, why that, too, would
be all right.”
i "Hello, Ben, where aro you going?’’
shouted Zip, as tho former turned and
ran down tho road at what seemed to be
almost breakneck speed, frequently
casting scared and anxious glances bo
hind him.
< Sen, however, did not stop to answer,
but kept straight on until he was lost to
sight in a bend in the road, while Zip,
bending almost double with laughter,
sent peal after peal of merriment ring¬
ing out on tho balmy evening air.
“Of all the chickens in Christendom
Bon Button takes the worml’’ cried Zip,
a broad grin still on his faco, as be also
turned and walked away.
Zip Tilkins, full of life, fun and frol¬
ic, had for tho last few wooks been
playing rival to Bon Button in tho af¬
fections of Melinda Spratt. Ben was
seriously in love with Melinda; Melin¬
da’s young heart was fond of Zip, and
Zip, -homeless, careless, fun-loving rover
that he was, had never a thought that
reached into the futuro for an hour.
Bon and Zip had met in the road ac¬
cidentally. Bon was on his way to the
Spratt homestead to lay further siego to
Melinda’s heart
For the last few days Bon had had
but one thought, and that was how to
get rid ol Zip as a rivaL So, when he
met Zip, he pleaded from the fullness
of his heart and in tho most persuasive
language he could command, that Zip
would relinquish all claim to Melinda’s
heart and hand.
Zip, in pure fun, feigned love also,
and with well-asumed earnestness tried
in turn to prevail upon Ben to with¬
draw from the race. Neither, however,
would give in. As a last resort they
finally agreed that each should in a fair,
friendly way, bo permitted to plead his
own cause with Melinda, and let her
decide.
With Zip, so far, it was only a good
joke, and as such he had made the most
•f it, as has been seen.
Ban Button with regularity spent two
< veaings of the week at the Spratt domi¬
cile. With Melinda he made very slow,
SPRING PLACE. GEORGIA? THURSDAY. SEPTEMBER 27, 1888.
If any, progress into favor; with Mrs.
Spratt, however, ho won golden opin¬
ions and stood in high grace.
Since the compact letweon Ben and
Zip the latter had visited Meliada but
once, and then she had, in a very shy
and sweet way, teasingly upbraided him
for having triod to take the lifo of her
constant admirer, Ben Button.
"And would it break your heart, Me¬
linda, if ho were to die?” asked Zip,
with an eager undertone in his voice,
watching her face closely.
"It would—almost—of course, if—
but Zip, you have no right to ask such
questions,” she answered, looking up
shyly and blushing.
‘ Well, you needn’t be uneasy about
him. I wouldn’t hurt Ben Button ly a
single thought or word, much loss take
his life,” replied Zip, with an earnest,
ness unusual with him.
‘1 was only joking, Zip. Bat you
seem to bo awfully -in earnest and sol¬
emn this evening. What is ailing you,
any way?”
"Nothing much, only I havo made up
my mind to go away,” answered Zip,
looking aside.
"Go away?
"Yes, Melinda.”
"Where aro you going?”
"Anywhere. It make3 no difference,
so I got away.”
"And ain’t you coming back?” *
"Some day, maybe, if ever I get to
be of any account to myself or anybody
else.”
"You are of some account now, Zip,
and you had better stay right whero
you are.”
"No; I’ve made up my mind to go,
and I am sure it is tho host thing that
could happen for us all around, so I'll
stick to it,” said Zip, resolutely.
Melinda was looking out of the win¬
dow. When she saw a man coming up
tho lane toward tho house, and recog
nized in the comer Ben Button, a shad
ow of annoyance flitted over her face.
Zip had been watching Melinda; and
when ho saw the slight frown on her
faco, ho too, glanced out, and seeing
who was coming he rose to his feet,
ready to depart, saying: "I'll call in
again before I leave ■ and tell you all
good by. Good evening.”
Melinda glanced roproachfully after
tho retreating Zip. Thero was a sus¬
picion of tears in her eyes, and a little
quiver around her mouth, as sho mur¬
mured to herself: "Foolish Zip! Hois
going away because ho thinks I am go¬
ing to marry that hateful Ben Button,
and is jealous. But I can't mako him
see, and I won’t ask him to stay. I’ll
dio first. There.”
The truth was that a serious thought
had at last come to Zip. He was in
love, and ho knew it. He had looked
at himself as in a looking-glass, and
found out his own worthlessness. More
than that, ho had determined to go
away, change his habits of shiftless¬
ness, and become a useful man and
citizen. He would not ask Melinda
for her lovo until he had made him¬
self worthy of it. If, however, in
the meantime some other man—Ben
Button perhaps—stepped in ahead of
him, why, ho would still be the gainer
by an ambition for higher things
which, in as tndiro’ct way, would be
a gift from Melinda.
That evening, Ben Button asked
Melinda to become his wifo; but she
was in no mood to answer him, then,
for Zip's foolish determination to go
away troubled her in no small degree.
She knew, too, that her mother fa¬
vored Ben abovo any one else, and
that she would be grieved if B_>a re¬
ceived a curt refusal, so she told him
she would havo an answor ready for
him when he should call again, and
Ben was happy.
Days passed away. They were days
of hope to Bon, days of doubt and ir¬
resolution to Melinda,and busy days for
hand and thought with Zip.
The decisive evening carao at last,
and Ben was on hand with his usual
clockwork regularity to receive what he
fully expected to be a favorable answer
to his suit
It had been a rainy day, but the sun
had broken through the clouds in the
evening, and was sotting bright and
cloar, casting' its last rays upon Mrs.
Spratt, Melinda and Ben Button, as
they sat on the west gallery of tho
house.
"I dlclare, Melinda,” said Mrs. Spratt
suddenly, “if them welldiggera haven’t
gone off and forgot to shut tho gap in
the fence around tho well.”
"And there is Blossie’s calf in the
yard now and going straight for the
well. I’ll go and shut up the gap,
mother; you sit still,” said Molinda, as
Mrs. Spratt was about to rise.
Melinda ran toward the well, heading
the calf off at the same time. She was
about to close the gap in the fence,
when her eyes fell upon the wide open¬
ing in the ground. She hesitated a mo¬
ment, then entered tho gap, and ap¬
proached tho well cautiously. On the
brink, she peered ov.r and looked into
tho depth below. She was about td
withdraw again; but the ground ucdifr
her feet gave way, and with a loud
scream she was hurled to the bottom of
the well.
Mrs. Spratt and Ben saw what hap
pened, for their eyes had fondly follow¬
ed Melinda in her every movement, and
they now rushed to tho sceno of the
catastrophe.
Stopping carefully upon some planks
that worn lying across the opening of
the woll, they peered into the abyss be¬
low them. There was no sound except
of mumbling earih and pebbles falling
from tho sides of tho well. Tho earth
was looso from tho rain during tho day,
and tho break where Melinda had fallen
in had started tho walls to caving fell
around.
Then a large mass of earth fell crash¬
ing to tho bottom of tho well and laid
bare a huge bowlder banging as if ready
to topple tho next moment.
A faint moan from tha bottom of tho
well reached tho ears of those above.
"Oh, Ben, sho is alive 1 Savo herl”
criod Mrs. Spratt.
"I can’t, Mrs. Spratt. That rock in
tho side of tho well will fall in di¬
rectly,” whined B m.
“Oh, savo her, Ban l I’ll lower you
down with the windlnss and hoist you
out again,” pleaded Mrs. Spratt.
"’Taint nouso. That rock will turn
bio in in a minute,” still moanod Bon.
Just then Zip, with head bent, came
walking toward tho house. Mrs
Spratt saw him and callod out to him
excitedly: "Zip 1 Zip 1 como quick and
save Melinda.”
Zip heard and did not lose a moment
in running to the well.
Ho took in tho situation at once.
With all speed possible ho unwound the
rope from tho windlass, and after tell¬
ing Mrs. Spratt and Ben to stand ready
to hoist, wont down in the well, hand
over hand, on the rope. ■>
The earth wi)j still
tho bottom With ’a flollow wuud.
Zip with a lusty shout told them to
hoist away.
Melinda was landed abovo ground at
last, bleeding, bruised and unconscious.
The rope was lowered again, and just
as Zip's head was above ground, the
large rock in the sido of the well and
masses of earth from all around crum¬
bled in, and fell with a sound as of
thunder to tho bottom of tho wolU
It was a narrow escape.
Melinda was carricl to thi house,and
a doctor was sent for. Before ho ar¬
rived, however, she regainod conscious¬
ness, and seeing Zip bending over her,
a glad smile lighted up her fair young
face, wliilo sho murmured, “Don’tgo
away, Zip. Don’t go away.”
Just then Mrs. Spratt, accompanied
by tho doctor, entered the room and ap¬
proached tho bed. When tho good
mother saw the smilo on her daughter’s
face, and Zip bending low abovo the
pillow, glad tears came to her eyes, and
her voico was low and tender.
“You can kiss her Zip, if you want
to,” she said.
Zip did ‘ ‘want to” and kissed Melin¬
da on her smiling lips.
Then Mrs. Spratt put her arms around
Zip’s neck and kissed him too, and told
him that he must leave the room whilo
the doctor attended to Melinda’s hurts,
which upon examination proved to ho
mere bruises after all.
Ben hung nround tho hou-.o for a
while, but when he saw that ha was
left out in the cold by everybody, oven
by Mrs. Spratt, ho thought it %cst fo gO.
Whole In sessions, tho Mexican Congre W. E. 4 C ¥l tie.
says
pass away with nothing but formal
business, such a3 receiving communica¬
tions from the executives of tho statos,
or petitions from tho people which are
raroly acted on. Occasionally a bill is
passed but it passes almost as a matter
of course, some of tho membors giving
a delicate little wave of tho hand to the
Secretary as ho calls their names ‘by
sight, others merely smiling at him,
tome paying no attention whatever to
him, but none of them taking the trou¬
ble to open their mouths or rise, as tho
rules require. Weeks and months pass
away without a speech of any kind or
even a point of order.
The Terms Too Easy.
“It is so sudden, Mr. Peduncle, ’’ said
the young lady, softly; “give me time
to think of it.”
"Ccrtaiily,” rep’ied the business-like
commercial traveller; ‘Til be around
again in thirty days."
"I only wanted a momeat, Harry,”
she said, sweetly. —[Chicago Tribune.
A CAVALRY CAMP.
Sights and Sounds Around a
Bivouac on the Plains.
Preparations Before “Boots
and Saddles” is Sounded.
Drawn by a feeling of curiosity, a St.
Louis Republic corrcsprndent strolled
down to tho encampment of tho Eighth
Cavalry, United States Army, which
passed through Arkansas City, Kan.,
recently on its w ly from tho posts on
the Lower ltio Grando to Dakota and
Montana.
The regiment had bivouacked on a
broad, level plain, just at the edge of
tho city. Long white rows of army
fonts scattered hero and thero suggested
one of tho mushroom towns which in
tho far wost o.ten spring up in a day.
Each troop encamps by itself and so
regularly aro tho tents pitchod that
from tho hoad tent to tho foot tent a
straight line might bo drawn, touching
each tent between. As soon as tho tents
are pitchod all the stock must bo attend¬
ed to and tha regular duties of tho day
koep tho men occupied till evening.
Then guard mount takes place, twilight
gives place to dark, and soon nothing
remains of tha busy hive but a few
ghostly tent", lit up by tho flickering
light of tho camp tiros. Every half hour
tho sentinels pacing their weary beats
called out tho hour and "all’s well.”
Every two hours camo tho guard roliof,
and thus tho night passod just as tho
sight beforo had gone and ju.t as tho
many coming nights will go with these
At 4 1-2 tho bugl i roused tho sleep¬
ing camp, and just as tho first faint
streaks ol dawn appeared the camp once
mpre became n sceno of busy activity.
The i-tcck mu?t bo gallopod off to tho
yiver a milo away, and than horses and
men return to their morning meal. Tho
horses aro fed in feed buckets which
are fastened under their mouths by a
band passing over tho hoad. In a
shaft time horses and men jaded with a
thousand-mile journey, are reiitvigora
ted and ready for another day’s march.
To tbo uninitiated these ordered pre¬
parations appear like the most reckless
confusion. Privates in dirty blue
blouses and grass-stained trousers run
to and fro; every now and then somo
teamster gallops off to the river fol¬
lowed by an animated chorus of army
mules; wagons aro being loaded; men
rush hero and thero filling their can¬
teens. A few minutes beforo 6
general call is sounded and chaos
assumes order. Shortly after comes the
order to strike touts, and in an instant,
as if by magic, tho encampment has
disappeared. While you aro watching
ono tent pulled oach man has done his
work, and once again tho miniature
town gives place to the plain of a day
beforo. Tho tents aro quickly rolled
up and put in tho wagons and then
"boots and saddles” is sounded. Ev¬
ery man takes his station. They are
ranged in troops, men and horsos altcr
nitiog. Each troopor has his right
hand on his horse’s bridle, faces vacant
and expressionless, eyes adjusted a cer¬
tain distanco to tha front, hoping noth¬
ing, awaiting nothing, but tho order to
mount This is presently given, and
like an automaton each man springs to
tho saddle. The day’s march has now
begun.
The men all wore cavalry boots, some¬
what the worse for wear and dirt. Their
coarse, heavy trousers were tucked
tightly within. They wero soatod on a
light, cheap saddle, vary unlike tho
cowboy saddlo of tho West It had a
■mall horn, and looked like an extreme¬
ly comfortless seat Tho stirrups are
covered and worn very long, compelling
the riders to rest tho weight of the
body on tho toes. On tho right sido of
tho saddlo the carbine is slung, and on
the left tho canteon and feed bucket
must bo disposed of. Strapptd to the
back of tho saddlo are the unfailing
slicker (or waterproof rubber coat) and
army blankets. A coarse, blue shirt
and an army slouch hat Complete tho
outfit, and the private may pass on so
curo in the consciousness that nobody
will envy him all ho possesses. Tho
officers were but a shade better off.
Their clothes looked a little newer and
th"ir faces were a little cleaner, but the
bronzed faces showed a life of hardships.
Oac fine-looking old gentleman had a
villainous looking old pipe and a sack
of tobacco hanging to his saddle¬
bow. It took about a quartei ol an
hour for the regiment to file pw t. A
huge cloud of dust was rais d, and
“glory and dirt” disappeared together.
The entire isolation of army life and its
dreary regularity must become monoto¬
nous iu the extreme. Social advantages
aro entirely out of tho question ; friond
must bo forgotten as soon as made; new
scenes come to mean only so much
ground passed over, and new towns aro
only another camping ground. In win¬
ter quarters, however, pleasures aro not
so infrequent. Amatour theatricals and
social events relieve tho unvarying mo¬
notony of camp routin’. The lifo must
unfit ono for any kind of business.
When a man has been accustomed to tho
routine of orders preparod by superior
ofrii ... cr* tincls it (\lmost . lnipossiblo . ... to
qo
redirect his energies back into a plane
of perfect indcpendonco. It i3 at I
its best a wandering life, with no homo
ties.
The Value of Advertising.
Everybody ha3 heard of Frank Millet,
lie paints pictures and writes magazine
articles in times of peace, but when a
war is "on” he bccomos a "war corrc
spondont,” and is likely to turn up in
the Soudan, tho Transvaal or the Bal
leans. But thero was a time when he
was not known. He sent pictures to ex¬
hibitions, to be sure, and good onos,
but no one paid any particular attention
to them or said anything about them.
One day ho conceived an idoa. Ha
painted a picture of a lady in black sit¬
ting on a bright rod sofa standing
against a vivid yoi.ow background. Tho
effect was just a trifle startling. Friends
who saw it in process of production ex
postulitod with him, and asked what
he was going to do with it. They wero
simply astounded when ho announced
that he was going to send it to tho ex
hilition. They labored with him, but
in vain. told him tint the critics
would "wipo tho floor” with him.
“They can’t do that without mention¬
ing mo,” said Frank, quietly, "and
they’ve never even dono thut yet." To
tho exhibition tho picture went. It
killed everything within twenty feet on
eithor sido of it. You couldn’t help
looking at it. It simply knocked you
down and held you there. Tho critics
got iuto a towering passion over it.
They wrote wholo columns about it.
They exhau<ted the English language
in abusing it. They ridiculed the com
mittee thiat permitted it fto bo bung.
They had squibs and gibes about it, but
every timo they spoke of it they men¬
tioned Frank Millet. IIe suddenly bo
carao the best known artist in town.
Somebody, because of the slir that it
had tqadc, bought the picture at a good
price, and removed it to the seclusion
of his own home. When tho next exhi
bition came off Frank had another pic¬
ture ready, ono of a very different sort,
and very good, 1 ut no better than
others which had been exhibited be¬
fore. Tho critics had much to say
about it, and "noted with pleasure tha i
had marked made, improvement” “an evidence,” that Mr. they Millet mod- j '
as
estly put it, “of tho value of criticism,
oven though severe, to a young artist.”
And a majority of them never saw that
Frank had simply compelled their at- i
tention by a clover trick.—[Boston
Horald.
The Echo Maker.
•a.
Tho popular Science Monthly de¬
scribes a curious and ingenious device
called “Tho Echo Maker" to be used on
ships at sea. A flaring funnel is screwed
to the muzzle of a rifle. Whon a sup
posod obstacle is near the vessel, the J
rills is fired in its direction, aud if the
obstaclo is there tho boam of sound pro
jeeted through tho funnel strikes the
obstacle and rebounds, and as tho echo 1
is more or less perfect in proportion as
the tho obstacle ship from is which more or the less parallel is fired, to j
gun
and as it is near or remote, tho position
of the obstaclo may be inferred. The '
inventor claims that a sharp sound pro
jeeted at or nearly at an object, and
n ly when so directed, will in every case
return some of the sound sent, so that,
theoretically, there will always be an
echo, and tho difference in the time be¬
tween tho sound sent and the echo,
will indicate the remoteness of
the object. The Naval Board tried the
echo maker and found that a return
sound could be heard from the side of a
fort half a mile away; from passing
steamer? a quarter of a mile off if broad¬
side too; from bluffs and sails of vessels
at about tho samo distance, and from
spar buoys 200 yards away.
A Chain of Events.
Last year out in Iowa a mad dog bit a
steer, which in turn bit a pony, which
triod its teeth upon a bull, which, upon
going mad, chewed up fence rails as
though they were hay, and wound up by
biting and goring his owner. So far the
man has escaped rabies, bat his neigh¬
bors have raised a purse to send him to
Pasteur for treatment, and he is now,
on his way in charge of a local phy¬
sician.—[Chicago Times.
NO. 34.
Take Lesson from tlio Farmer. !
a
There’s a lesson in the saying of a farmer in
the West
That of other things in lifo, as well, might
answer for a test.
Shall I give the lesson to you? Willyouheod
its teachings? Well,
Listen to me but a moment and the story I
will tell.
We were out among the milch cows, speak¬
ing of the best ones thero.
When the farmer of my first choice said,
Wlttl patronizing au:
“Sues as plump as any pigeon, and her coats
soft ns sillc
But the slickest-looking heifer ain’t the one
that gives the milk.”
Oft ’neath clumsy outward tearing beats a
heart both trye and brave,
And the smooth and winning mannors may
conceal tho vilest knave.
So the lean horse docs the pulling and is not
afraid of work,
While the fat and lazy pony is contriving
how to shirk.
Would you beck o city dandy to engage in
any strife,
Qj- the one whose hands are smoothest for
the heavy work of life?
Choose the homely for your milch cow and
we’ll then, sir, by your leave,
Send the shut horn to the butcher, she will
make him splendid beef.
Take a lesson from the farmer, with his
sturdy common sense,
Who, unlike the politician, never sits astride
the fence;
Watch the smoothest talking fellow, he may
prove tho biggest bilk;
Know “the slickest looking heifer ain’t the
ono that gives the milk.”
—[Mutt W. Anderson in tho Mercury.
HUMOROUS.
A cloud of dust—Humanity.
Small comfort—A baby.
A bad sign—A forged signature.
A fascinating tail—Tho poacock’s.
An astonished country—Consterna¬
tion.
Whon a man has but ono match it
doesn’t go.
Hogs do not marry, but they are often
betroughed.
The latest from Shanghai—Cock-a
doodlc-dool
The than of brass i« always ready to
show his mettle.
The sign "No Loafing” seems out of
place in a bakery.
The cholera in phantom appears to bo
« ghostly sort of disease.
How to get even with some men—
Pay them what you owe them.
Possibly the reason that a lawyer does
so much kicking in court is that ho is a
limb of the law.
It is trus that whon a man bows to a
lad J and a ^o ignores the greeting, he
becomes a left bower.
Consistency may bo a vory poor sort
of jcwoL A man may lie constantly
and still bo consistent,
It costs tho wholesale houses of this
country $130,000,000 per year to send
ou t travelers. This is exclusive of tho
travelers to Canada.
Westorn Judge (to prisoner who was
arrested in the gutter)—Your'ro (hie)
drunk yet, m’ fr’en’. Prisonor—No,
sir, (hie), sober as a judge.
It is estimated that tho earth loses an
hour in every sixteen thousand years,
Americans will please take notice, and
put in an extra hour whilo thero is time,
“George,” said the happy bride,
“papa has placed a check among the
wedding presents.” “Is that so?”
whispered Georgo, anxiously. "Did
you notice if it is certified?'’
A Dr . Zac h ar io claims to havo cut 15,
qqq corng from soldior 3 ’ feet during the
war, and now ho wants tho Government
t0 pay him $45,000 for it. Protty costly
cor n crop, that for our Uncle Samuel,
Father—Well, Thomas, you have
graduated from colloge and are now
ready for your lifo work. What will be
your field? Son (thoughtfully)—Well,
to tell the truth, sir, it's a little hard to
decide between loft and centre.
Tho da I co ™ ia
when the man who carries a cane under
his arm and the man who carries an
umbrella on his shoulder will bo taken
out and hit with a squash, and hit hard
enough to kill. Then tho woman with
the baly cart wants to look out.
"I hear, Mr. Bonds, that your son is
about to take a vacation.’’ "Yos. He
has worked so long and steadily in the
bank that he needs a rest and will taka'
a run over to Canada.” "Ho will, eh!
Excuso me--” "What’s your hurry!”
“I have somo money in the bank.”
“My face is red and tender
Where the wind has tanned the hide,
And the sun has raised big blisters
As I sailed upon the tide.
So let the razor kiss me gently
As it slides adown my cheek,
For I’ve been down at the shore, barber,
Down at the shore this week."
