Newspaper Page Text
The Cartersville Courant-American.
VOL. VIII.
fiILLHf, WAR INCIDENTS.
Hi rs . Felton's Recollections of Life
Asa Refugee
flie Doctor’t Narrow Escape—Going For a
<, iiiti tl-A Sad Day*A Burglar’* Clean
Scoop-—Tin* New Start in Lift).
M.nul Andrews in Constitution.
Tli story of Mrs. Felton’s experience
during the war is as replete with humor
!Ul( ] pathos as one of Dickens’s novels.
\s wt-sat by a great wood fire after tea
die commenced to talk upon it.
‘*l do not, believe the people who had
their homes ruined during the war ever
v ,. ( ..iv<'*re<! t heir loss afterwards,” site said.
“W<> refereed from this very house dur
a,, r the first part of the war. We left a
comfortable home nicely furnished. We
turned to a shell utterly demolished of
comfort. We went to a place near Macon,
and there the hardships and dangers
u,*re fearful. The firing of pistols about
the premises was a common occurrence,
and we felt our lives momentarily in
duiker. One night a pistol was fired
r jcr|c b.v the window where wo sat, and
pr. Felton was fired at twice late in the
evening when he was seeing to things
i about the lot. 1 became so alarmed
jabout my husband’s safety that I deter
mined to go to Macon, which was five
miles off, and ask General Wilson to give
ns a guard for protection.
“In the midst of all this danger and
uneasiness, my last living boy was taken
with a congestive chill and died in a few
hours. Ah, that was a sad time. We
*o’d the handsome carriage that had
been our pride in better days for a pit
tance, and that paid my child’s funeral
expenses. Then when my boy was buried,
1 got in my buggy and started to Macon
alone. On the way, I stopped at a
friend's house, and he insisted on sending
his little hoy with me for protection. So
the child and I took the journey, crossing
the Ocinulgee on a pontoon. I went to
General Wilson’s quarters and asked an
interview. Me refused, sending word he
would see no more Southern women, as
some had been insolent. His provost
general gave me a guard, however, after
my declaring myself unarmed, and the
soldier, a pleasant young Irishman, and
1 drove o(T.
“On my way home we stopped at a
farm house, where a friend slipped a
pistol in my lmmls and I hid it in the
buggy. When we got home, and my
husband came to meet me, I insisted on
fills bringing my work-basket out to the
buggy. It is a wonder the man did not
suspect something, but 1 got my basket
and slipped the pistol in it.
“The days went very well then, and
one day, shortly before the guard’s de
parture, I)r. Felton and he went out to
shoot off some firearms. My husband
called to me to bring out my old weapon.
I brought it out and told the story to
the Federal soldier; but he looked upon
me distrustfully and lost faith in my
honesty alter that. lle departed in peace
soon after that and then came the going
back to our home.
“The first thing I saw upon entering
my gate was a piece of the woodwork to
one oftnv parlor chairs, and then I found
the house a scene of wreck and desola
tion. My parlor had been turned into a
stable. Bedding and furniture upholster
ing was cut into bits. Many of the win
dow sashes were out and there was not a
pane of glass in the whole building. For
a longtime we were so poor that we
could not put any glass in and —it was
cold. %
‘Th\ Felton and I went right to work
teaching school in Cartersville. I made
°ue hundred dollars teaching school in
theautumn term. It seemed more money
than l ever saw or ever will see. Money
no scarce with our poor people then,
jP !1( l the land was still in misery and
disorder. There were riots up the road
bom my house. One night they had a
vendetta and brought a dead man along
the road to be buried some miles below
"here he had been murdered. These
horrible scenes, were common, and it
seemed as if the country would never
a gain see peace and prosperity. We
"ere sadly wanting in clothes and house
comforts, but we had enough to eat for
B °me sheep and cows were left: on the
Mace, and I said we ate so many of them
that we’d get to bleating and bellowing.
c saved the wool from the sheep.
" () no day my husband came in and
K,i id a Methodist woman who believed in
wanted to be baptized, and
Insisted on his doing it. He said he had
110 decent clothes to wear, and I sent the
M °ol off and had it dyed and woven, and
ln,l <le him a nice suit of clothes. Later
he came in looking spick and span in
'* new suit, with new gloves, hat and
dices. He had gotten his school money,
ar) d still had fifty dollars left after his
Purchases. When he took off iris clothes
>ut night he started to leave his money
|‘is pants pocket, but I said:
} 1,1 going to take that money and
Put it under my pillow; something might
* a Ppen.’
1 did so. The next morning when he
got out of bed I saw him look in vacant
despair at the empty chair where the
clothes had been.
“Where are they,” he asked sadly.
“They were gone—hat, Hint, shoes and
all—not a thing left. A footpad had
helped himself to them and the poor
woman had to wait for her immersion til
he got some more.
“Yes, those were hard times, but we
recovered by work, and I can look without
bitterness and hatred over it now' into a
vale of peace and plenty, I have no ani
mosity toward the North, but I believe
that the only thing that will create a
perfect harmony and understanding be
tween Northern and Southern people is a
war with a foreign nation. A heroic
remedy, perhaps, but the only perfect one
in my judgment,”
The Experimental Farm.
The sixth section of the act creating
an experimental farm, to be known as
“Tiie Georgia Experiment Station” reads
as follows;
“The yjtecific object of the said Georgia
Experiment Station shall be to determine
the capacity of new plants for acclima
tion; the mauurial value of fertilizers
and composts; making soil tests, and
testing the purity and vitality of seeds;
examining grasses and other plants; in
vesting the growth, requirements and
value of different crops; studying the
economic production of milk and butter,
and of conducting such other tests and
making such other investigations and
experiments in the field as are suggested
in an act of the federal congress, approved
March 2, 1887, entitled an Act to Estab
lish an Agricultural Experiment Station,
etc., as may bear upon questions con
nected witn either the science or the
practice of agriculture.”
Head this, and then think of the adap
tability of Bartow county, in every par
ticular to such an institution. She makes
more wheat than any other county in the
State. In farming lands sheis the richest
county. She is in the centre of what is
to be the great manufacturing and steel
making section of the country —creating
the best market for agricultural products.
We do not know that any special effort
will be made to secure the location of the
experimental farm in this county; but we
do not believe there is a better point for
its location anywhere in the State.
Bartow seldom asks for anything at
the hands of the State, but why not put
in a claim for the Experimental Station?
Bartotv Hoys Abroad.
Messrs. J, E. Jolly and W. I). Trippe,
of this county, who are now attending a
commercial college at Lexington, Ky,,
write the Courant-American as follows:
“We have visited the country, seen
some very fine land and cattle.
Kentucky is noted for her fine stock.
She certainly has the lead in that line.
Seen one horse that is valued at $5,000
and several others that it would take a
little pocket change to buy.
After seeing all this it does not make
us forget Georgia, and especially Bartow,
our native county, and now’ we can cry
out three cheers for old Bartow, and as
many for the Courant-American, which
ought to have credit for Bartow’s
success.
To our friends who would likely be
glad to see us arrive back in Georgia, w-e
will say it will not be long before we will
arrive and greet our friends with a shake
of the hand. We never were off from
home before, and it makes us feel proud
to think we will get to see home in the
course of a few weeks, after being away
tor two months. After seeing our friends
and spending a few days with them we
will be reaay to take a position as book
keeper for some reliable firm.
J. E. Jolly and W. 1). Trippe.
Methodist Church.
Rev. AY. A. Dodge, of Atlanta, at one
time pastor of this church, filled the
pulpit morning and evening last Sunday.
He will return to officiate next Sunday,
and it is probable that arrangements can
be made by which he will serve the church
regularly until Rev. Mr. Adams is suffi
ciently restored to resume work.
Mr. Dodge is one of the most popular
men who has had charge of this church,
and his presence last Sunday was a
delight to the congregation. He is a
thoroughly consecrated minister, and his
presence is a benediction to any com
munity.
It is rumored that every head of a
family, except two or three, on Col.
Spain’s place, in this county, lias sold
his produce at a sacrifice in order to buy
a through ticket to Kansas, on the
promise of some rascally agent that on
their arrival there, the money spent on
the trip will be returned to them, and
that the government would give each
of them 160 acres, a horse, farming
implements, a wagon, and provisions
enough to run them the first year.
This is but an enlarged edition of the
old story of “forty acres and a mule.”
When will the negroes cease to be duped
by oily tongued iinmigiatiou agents?—
Herald.
The cotton receipts of Columbus are a
little over 10,000 bales ahead of same
date last year.
CARTERSVILLE, GA., THURSDAY, JANUARY *24, 1889.
IN A GREAT PRAIRIE FIRE.
An Unenjoyabie Night Spent in
Sully County, Dakota.
Howa Party of Land Hunter* Saved Their
Lives by Judicious Back Firing—A
Perillou* Experience
Were it not for the possibilities of “back
firing” the annals of prairie fires would
record many deaths. I remember, says
a writer in the New York Tribune, in
1878 being with a little party in what is
now Sully county, I). TANARUS., exploring for a
good town site where we might found a
city and with a small effort on our part
become millionaires. We camped one
night near theheadwaters of the Okobojo
creek. The grass all about was thick
and tall. All day long we had noticed a
smokiness about the air, and as evening
approached the strong Soutii wind
brought a faint odor of fire. As dark
ness settled down we could see a dull red
reflection low on the Southern horizon.
We knew there was an extensive fire in
that direction, butdid not think it would
reach us that night, so lay down to sleep
with no feeling of uneasiness. There
were four in the party ; two slept in the
wagon, while the other two, I being one
of them, took blankets and made beds in
the grass. One lay a little distance in
front of the wagon and the other as far
behind, with the idea that we would
scent horse thieves, either white or red,
should any appear —something we cer
tainly should not have done. In the
night came the fire. One of the horses
fell over mo at two o’clock in the morn
ing, and the frightened animal rushed on
to the end of its picket line, and tugged
at if, and set up that unearthly noise
which only a horse is capable of when
badly scared. My companion on guard
awoke about the same time, while those
in the wagon speedily tumbled out. We
were none of us too soon—we could feel
the heat on our faces. But a little dis
tance to the South—perhaps it was
farther than it seemed, but it was not
far —it was a fierce, high-leaping, surging,
roaring wall of fire. The smoke rolled
above our heads and almost touched
the white wagon top. The fire surged
and rose and fell, and leaped and plunged,
and ciadded and roared, and the black,
burned grass stems—some of them still
glowing—were driven in our faces and
settled around us. It seemed as if the
fire to the East and West was already
advanced past us, and that the line of
flame was a rapidly closing semi-circle.
It was light as day, but when we turned
to the North we looked into a great
black, inky cave, at the mouth of which
our horses plunged and neighed and
gleamed back at the dreaded fire with
crazed and bulging eyes. I regret that I
cannot state with truth that we had but
one match, and enlarge on the anxiety
with which we watched it “flicker, almost
go out, and then burn bright and clear;”
but I can not —we all had plenty of
matches. Butin theexciternentit seemed
as if none of us would ever find them. It
♦
looked as if the fire had covered half the
distance to us before the first match was
produced, then it was my brother senti
nel who brought it to light. He ran a
short distance in front of wagon,
which stood parallel with the fire, so that
the fire he proposed starting would not
reach the horses, and knelt in the tall
grass. The first match went out, quite
after the most approved form. The next
did better, it burned, the dry bunch of
grass caught, the flames swirled ’up in
our faces as we leaned anxiously over it,
and then leaped to the next bunch, then
to both sides away to the North, making
us a rapidly growing oasis of safety. It
was none too soon. AA r e cut the picket
ropes and led the horses around upon
the burned space, one of us beating out
the feeble flames that tried to work to
ward the wind. We hastily pushed the
wagon to a place of safety, and stood
behind it to screen our faces from the
fierce heat. The fire swept up to our
little burned spot, reached over angrily,
but found nothing to feed on, again
leaped high in the air, swayed, wavered,
flickered and went out. We were saved.
The air was hot and stifling for several
minutes, then came thecool, strong wind
which w r as now sweeping the flames away
to the North, our little saving lire over
taken and swallowed up in the greater.
A half hour later there was a feeling as if
a great storm had passed, and far away
to the North thesmoke hung like a cloud
with the fire playing angrily about, low
down, in broken lines, as the lightning
sometimes does after a thunder-storm.
There was no sound save the steady rush
of the wind, which was not loud, as the
long, dry grass it had murmured through
before was gone.
In the morning the brownish-gray
landscape of the day before was black as
night. The coal-black ashes lay every
where and were hurled about by the
wind. Far to the North across the black
billows of the prairie there was a iow r
cloud of smoke. It was a landscape in
black; it was only broken by occasional
bleached buffalo bones, with the great,
broad, startling skulls lying white and
ghostlike in the sea of black
PANORAMIC VIEWS.
A Look at th> Past, as Opened Up by a
3lan With a Good Memory
and Ready Tongue.
If you can just get our friend B. O.
Crawford, of Cassville, to unlimber his
jaw and talk, its like reading a book
illustrated with striking pictures—Spec
ially if you turn iiis mind toreiniuiscenses
of Old Cassville.
Mr. Crawford was in our office t lie other
day, and m answer to a question or two,
he spread before us a life-like panorama
of the famous old town, from the time he
arrived there—lß36.
The first newspaper published in North
Georgia, was the Georgia Pioneer, pub
lished at Cassville. I t was published when
Mr, C. first moved to the place, and he
remembers very well the first printing
office he ever saw. It was in the base
ment of a store near the square. Old
Uncle Johnnie Hood was the publisher,
and Sam Hood was behind the hand press
inking the types with two big balls covered
with buckskin.
Then followed in quick succession vivid
panoramic views of the beautiful town—
the college on the hills—the summer visi
tors from Southern plantations —the
romping school boys and girls—many of
whom are gone to the unknown beyond,
while others move among us, bent with
the weight of years. There were the liter
ary societies, the whist clubs (whose
bylaws forbade drinking or gambling)—
the old muster grounds—thefamous race
track, with its races, chicken fights,
shooting matches, Ac.
This,-'was a touching scene: Mr. C's
father traded all his negroes to Bill Turn
lin. The negroes found it out soon after
he came home, and soon there was a reg
ular mob in the house —some crying,
some begging, some threatening to run
away and come back home. The old
man’s heart was melted —he didn’t sa.v
much, but soon the next day went and
told Mr. Tunilin he must go back on the
trade —his servants wouldn’t leave him —
and the trade was off—and there was
several thousand dollars lost to the fam
ily.
Mr. Crawford is down on everything
that increases taxation, and was one of
the leaders in the movement against
building anew court house. He says we
had better loose $300,000 in time and
extra court costs, than to invest $30,000
in a house—in dead brick and mortar,,
because the first sum would go back to
the people and continue to circulate,
w-liile the amount put into a house is
locked up, and dead to the people for
ever. His idea is that taxes should be
increased in proportion to the increase
of population, and not the increased
value of property. (But we couldn’t see
the difference, as property increases in
value just as the growth of population
increases the demand for it. But don’t
nobody tell our good friend that we said
this.)
All in all “Belt” Crawford is one of the
best talkers and one of the best posted
men of the intelligent community in
which he lives, and his visits to our sanc
tum are always richly enjoyed.
Superior Court.
The criminal docket was taken up
Monday morning, and the following
cases disposed of, besides a number of
eases on the civil side:
The State, vs. Gip Woods—three cases
of larceny from the house—fmnid guilty
in each case. Banks, the man who was
implicated with Woods in the same
cases, is supposed to have been killed
while steeling- a ride on a freight train,
soon a.ter the crimes were committed.
L. Wade vs. Ella Wade—libel for
divorce. Total divorce granted.
Henry Fobb charged with assault with
intent to murder, plead guilty.
State, vs. Robt. Kell —misdemeanor.
Verdict, guilty.
State, vs. Ed. Leake—assault with
intent to murder. Verdict, not guilty.
State, vs. John Evans—assault and
battery. Verdict, not guilty.
State, vs. Hill Conyers—larceny from
the house. Verdict, guilty.
Bartow Conyers—same charge. Ver
dict, guilty.
The presentments of the grand jury
will be found in another column. It was
an intelligent, working body, and trans
acted a large amount of business. Their
presentments speak for themselves.
Why She Asked.
Merchant Traveler.
“George, dear.” said Mable, as they
sat together in the cosy palor, “you
have been coming to see me every Sun
day night for the past six months.”
“Yes, Mable.”
“Now, there is one thing I would like
to ask you.”
“What is it?”
“Do you think that you could ever
learn to love another?”
“Never while the stars shine or the
sun casts its beams upon the earth.”
“Areyou sure?”
“As sure as that I now live. Why do
you ask such a question?”
“I was in hopes there was some pros
pect of your giving me a rest.”
SAM JOSES IS CAIIfORSIA.
Thousands Flocking to Hear the
Georgia Preacher.
He Pour* Hot Shot Into the Gold Hun
ter’s Ranks—A California Editor’s
Diagnosis, Etc.
The Los Angeles Express comes to us
with several columns filled with accounts
of our Sam .Jones and his preaching. He
began his work in that city last Sunday
week, preaching to a congregation of
four or five thousand. People are going
to Los Angeles from far and near, and
the outlook is auspicious for a wonder
ful meeting.
After reporting two or three of Mr.
Jones’ sermons, theeditor of the Express
comments ou the man and his methods
k
as follows:
“Los Angeles now has within her gates
probably the most unique figure to be
found among all the ministers of the
gospel in these United States. It is now
about five years since the Rev. Sam Jones
began to attract the general attention of
the peoples of this country. His queer
sayings began to be copied in the news
papers about that long ago, and he at
once acquired a. national fame. Since
that time he has been preaching-to im
mense audiences throughout the country.
Many people called him a coarse clown
who was bent chiefly on acquiring noto
riety and money, but tlie public generally
has stood by him and it seems undeniable
that he has accomplished much good.
Undoubtedly a great many go to hear
him simply because of his jokes, but it is
equally true that many persons are im
pressed by the serious part of what he
says and are induced thereby to lead
better lives.
“There are two characteristics of his
preaching which distinguish it from that
of almost any other man. One is its
homely, not to say coarse, humor and
pointedness. His sweeping assertions
are often ridiculous and his expressions
and illustrations often shock a refined
sensibility, but no one can deny that his
points are made in such a way as to take
hold upon the mind like a cockle burr
upon a sheep’s fleece. The man seems to
be absolutely without fear. AYhatever
of criticism comes into his mind seems to
be expressed without hesitation or re
serve.
“In these days of the broadest tolera
tion people are disposed to pass over
what they may regard as a defect and to
look only at the good that is accom
plished, They are not critical as to
means if the end be all right. The super
sensitive who can see a fly on a barn door
easier than they can see the door may
not discover much good in Sam Jones.
I hey will not see the serious purpose
which runs under all his odd sayings or
the impuls which his example may give
to plain speaking. But the people gen
erally will, we think, regard his jokes as
simply a means to an end, as something
to attract the people and to engage their
attention, while the principles of religion
and moral conduct and good citizenship
are administered to them. And in this
spirit they will welcome the preaching of
the Rev. Sam Jones, squirming at some
of his jokes and expressions, laughing at
others, relishing his quaiutness, but re
joicing- at the good that he doubtless
accomplishes.’;
Gen. Harrison’s Neighbor in Cartersville.
Mr. J. R. Christian, of Nobleville, Ind.,
gave us a pleasant call last week. He is
travelling through the South for health,
and came tdlthis section in search of in
formation of his father, whose history
he is writing, and who was raised some
where in the neighborhood of Atlanta
going West just before the war.
Nobleville is -near the home of Gen.
Harrison, and Mr Christian is a familiar
acquaintance. He considers the general
the best man elected since Washington,
and thinks his administration will be
conducted with a view to unifying the
country in sentiment, and destroying
sectionalism.
Mr. C. spent a portion of the winter in
California, and says he considers Georgia
a better section for those Northerners
who flee from hard winters than either
California or Florida. He was perfectly
charmed with our water and climate, and
says, if he ever changes his home, he will
locate in North Georgia. He considers
this the most promising section, looking
to future development, in the United
States.
It made us feel prouder than ever of
our native section, and we are satisfied
that a general knowledge of our advan
tages is all that is needed to rapidly de
velop and thickly populate it.
Railroad building for 1888 foots up
7,120 miles, against 1,300 miles last
year. The year 1888 was the heaviest
in lumber, iron, steel and corn ever
known. The corn crop was two million
bushels.
The public school fund for Coweta
county amounted last year to 5,911
dollars.
EMPRESS EUGENIE.
A Sa<l-ll*Hrt**<l Woman "Who Has OutUve<l
All Tl\os> She Ltfvetl.
Paris Letter to Pltteburur Dispatch.
Four times have I seen tin* Empress
Eugenie. The first was a few months
after her marriage, when she occupied,
with her husband, the imperial box at
the Comedie-Fraecaise, exquisite to be
hold in white silk and pearls, the famous
pearls that had formed the Emperor's
bridal gift. I shall not soon forget the
slender, swaying throat rising from the
statue lovely shoulders with the grace of
a lily stalk, the golden-lighted tresses,
the large, almond-shaped blue eyes, with
that mysterious saduess in their depths
ttiat one set's in tile portraits ot i Maries
I, shading their azure brilliancy, and not
to be chased away even by the sunny
sweetness of the smiling mouth. Ten
years later I again beheld the Empress,
this time in full court dress at a gala
representation at the opera, blazing with
diamonds, with that peerless gem, the
regent, surmounting the classic-shaped
diadem that she never wore since except
at the penalty of an agonizing headache,
so great was its weight. Her delicate,
flower-like beauty had developed and ex
panded into that of a well-ripened fruit,
the rounded arms and finely moulded
shoulders dimpling out of glowing drap
eries of rich red silk. She sat like a
statue or like some gem-bodeeked Indian
idol, so motionless that her diamonds
flamed; they did not flash or sparkle.
Next I beheld her scowled upon by the
Parisian crowd at the review in 1870, a
tired-looking, elderly woman, with the
daintycharmsof heryouth and the glow
ing graces of her prime replaced by all
the artifices kuown to the inventors of
French cosmetics.
And then, a year or two ag I passed,
on the Place Yendornc, a sorrowful lady,
clarl in deep mourning, with silvery hair
and an infirm gait, who was in the act of
getting into her carriage, aiding herself
with a cane as she did so. There was no
mistaking the sad sweetness of the ex
pression or the still inimitably graceful
carriage of the head and shoulders. It
was the ex-empress passing through
Paris on her way to one of the continen
tal watering places.
Her health is good, w.ith the exception
of the rheumatic affection that has
troubled her for years, and that impels
her to seek annually the counsels and
care of one of the great physicians of
Amsterdam. She is wealthy, and in grow
ing old she has grown penurious, so that
her heirs, the children of her sister, the
Duchess of Alba, will probably inherit
one day an immense fortune.
Like a {’•host of the vanished empire
that gave her grandeur, and to which
she imparted grace and charm, she flits
from one health-giving place of public
resort to another, alone on earth with
her memories and her sorrows. She has
survived all those whom she loved—hus
band, son, mother and sister. Dead,
too, are her hopes and her ambitionsj
they have vanished like her world-re
nowned beauty, like her queenship, like
her long hoped for and joyously hailed
maternity. Often in the watches of the
night a storm of grief will scatter the
calmness other resignation to the winds,
and she will sit for hours weeping before
the portrait of the late prince imperial.
An I, complete State.
Many of the papers are already kicking
against the Constitution’s Congressional
slate for 1890. The Rome Tribune has
this to say about our own district :
“In ou- own ‘-bloody Seventh,” for in
stance, no mention is made of our pop
ular and accomplished jurist, Judge Joel
Branham, of Rome, who looms up as a
powerful probability. Col. Bill Glenn, of
Dalton, and the Glenn Bill, is an openly
announced candidate, and is loaded to
tiie muzzle with eloquence and fight.
Colonel L. A. Dean, of Rome, strong,
forcible and tenacious, is walking quietly
but firmly in the shadow of possibility,
and the brilliant and eloquent Seab
W right is ‘‘sawing wood and saying
nothing”—which is mighty suspicious
for him. And there is Major Blance, the
fine fighter of Polk, Senator Watt Har
ris, a growing light in Bartow, with the
resourceful and able John Akin near him;
Mcßride, of Haralson, and Clay, of Cobb,
the eloquent and popular young speaker
of the house of Representatives, with
others who a v e lying quiet, but vigilant
of great opportunities, with ample abil
ity to grasp them—oh, no, the list is not
complete for the great Seventh.”
James Bullard, aged 17, and Miss Jen
nie Bush, aged 16, of Zebulon, ran away
and went to Milner where a marriage)
license was procured and they were made
one. On their return the young man
became frightened at the idea, of having
father’s wrath poured out upon his head
and they mutually agreed that it should
be kept a secret. The old gentleman
went to Milner on business a few days
after and wasiuformed of the occurrence.
He soon had the separated couple to
meet and now they are living in happy
contentment at his residence.—Griffin
Sun.
NO 33.