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Meadows of Rest.
I remember the beautiful meadow*
And {heir sweet streams purling clear,
With flowers besprent, where my young
days were spent.
Where the birds their nurslings rear.
I was sheltered then in the dear home nest,
’Where my feet turned oft to the meadows
of rest.
1 remember a grave in those meadows,
Where slumbered a langhing-eyed boy;
Death found him at play, he lured him
away.
And with him went half our joy.
We molded the turf that his feet had
pressed.
And kept his grave green in the meadows
of rest.
I remember a silver-haired father,
Who walked by the river wave
To watch the reed* grow, or the sweet
waters flow.
Or to muse by that little grave.
H* has p.'uwed long ago to the place ha loved
best.
To the infinite peace of God's meadows of
rest
I wonder if green are those meadows,
If purling and clear are the streams,
If the moon shines as bright, if the stars give,
such light
As they did in my youth's happy dreams, j
O, angel of destiny, heed my request:
Give me back, give me back my dear mead
ows of rest.
—(Mrs. Al. L Rayne, in Free Press.
A NUMBER ONE.
BY PATIEMOH STAPI.KTOS.
Oa a weather- beaten board, supported
by a creaking iron rod, hung the sign,
“Soles Sivod Here," which Breckin
ridge thought so exceedingly funny
that it never ceased to attract custom
and comment. It had been there ten
years, since Jonathan Mender came
into the little towa in the Rockies and
bought out the shoe-repairing business
of Caleb Binn.
Mender on this June afternoon sat in
the door of his shop, repairing a small
and extremely shabby shoe. Ho was a
short, stubby man, with twinkling oyes
behind spectacles, and a shock of gray
hair standing straight up from his fore
head.
Down the trail from Red Mountain,
as the afternoon shadows grew long,
and night came creeping under the
evergreens, galloped a lean broncho at
a headlong gait. His rider, a big
bearded miner, glanced around under
his bushy eye-brows, and now and then
gave a grunt of satisfaction.
“Tho old place don’t seo you on
more, Bill,” ha muttered, as the bron
cho panted up a short incline, “fur
you’ve struck it rich, as a certified
check fur ’way up in the thousands kin
testify.”
He galloped into Breckinridge, left
his broncho at tho hotel and went along
to the shoo shop.
“Same old sign,” he smiled.
“Ev’nia’, Mender."
“Hullo, Bill; thought you was dead.
Ain’t seen you these three years. Same
bates, too, I maid. Wil, I alius done
good work."
“You did; but just clap a patch on
this one whilst I wait, fur I ain’t a-goin’
to torture myself of I hev struck it
rich. My feet is liable to swell in tho
keers. i’ll leave ye an order, too, Men
der; for butes is good ernuff with me.
No lace shoes liko a jude.”
“Who you roped in on tho mine.
Bill?”
“No one: they’ll double what they
give me—three hundred thousand—but
I ain’t no hog; I know when I’ve got
enough.”
“Few does,’’ muttered Mendor, wax
ing his thread.
The miner looked around the shop;
then his eye fell on that shabby little
shoe,
“Beats all what sawed off feet wim
men hes, though 1 ain’t mentioning
•Korweiguns."
“The Lord made ’em so."
“Prob'ly. An’ this now," (turning
tho shoe over in his big hand) “is a
gal’s, not a growed woman’s?"
“All of twenty-eight: quite a yarn
about that, too. Three years ago I was
settin’ hero betwcenst day and dark,
when my door busts cpen an’ in runs
what I took to be a gal, but alterward
see was a little mite of a growed wo
man, with bright, bird-like eyes and
early hair. Them miners is a folletia’
me,’ she cries, drops inter thet cheer,
an’ faints dead away."
“Gosh, this very cheer?'’ echoed Bill,
in an awe-stricken tone.
“Same— set right there. I opens the
door, ‘B’y?,’ I says, Tve got the drop
on ye, an’ it's a shame to act like thet,
an’—git,’ which they done, on’ I went
back an’ give her water, an’ she come
to an’ jest kitched my han’ up an’
kissed it.”
•’Lord!” cried the miner.
M A.n* it wasn’t over-clean, fur mendin'
ain’t ovcr-pertikler wurk. Wal, she
hadn't no frens, an’ was come hero to
settle, an’ bein’ weak an' bystcricky, I
took her homo to Sister Jane. ’’Pears
to me,’ she says to Jane, ‘all tho
troubles of my life is bin caused by
men.’”
“They be onnery,” said the miner,
sympathetically.
•‘We kep’ her a week, an’ then she
went to wurk sewin', an’ insi»ted on
l«ayin’ her board, and made Jaoo the
trimmest gowas an’ caps, and me a
dressin’-gown like I was a female. I
wears it to please her, but I alius feels
I looks like one of them old patriarks
in’t. We never arsked her hist’ry, but
Jane sed she was bruised from blows,
an* I soe she trained her pretty eurls
over a scarce healed scar oa her fore
head. I calc’latcd she was one of them
thoroughbreds what will stan’ enny
amount of drivin’, but it’s a smash an
a runaway if you hit ’em.”
“There’s soma men as ought to be
®hot on sight,” muttered the miner.
•‘An* thet shoe was hern?’
“Yeah, an’ I’ve got to kecr fur her
so much thet I’ve alius been glad I was
here ’stid er Caleb; he wa’n’t never
neighborly. When I come here I says,
TIL give yo fifteen dollars fur the
place. ’ Says he, ‘Take it for fourteen
an’ a harf.’ ‘Why?’ 3aicl I, ‘Did you,’
says he, ‘ever know a man wot become
a sewer fur gab? Wal, look at me.
Ev'ry crank as has breath ernuff ter git
up the bank comes in an’ talks to me;
ev’ry bummer who kia walk staggers in
an’ vents Lis rum-soaked remarks on
me; ev’ry sunbunrated or shawl-headed
female woman comes to tell me her
troubles with the old man or tho neigh
bors.' *Wal," I says, ‘it’s comp’ny?’
‘Yah, I hate ’era,’ growls he. ‘Knew
where I’m going, not you. You’re the
kind as tells about a gal you loved,
named Sairy, wot died fifty year ago.
Wal, I’m goia’ to bo a sheep-herder,
where I want see one of human kind
fur months oa a stretch, an’ where I
kin go bare-footed the year ’round.’
80 he goes an' 1 stays.”
“When I was in Arizony," said the
miner, laying the shoe down, with a
sigh, “1 boarded to tho house of a
little woman as could a-wore them
shoes. The vittles was awful. Some
of the biscuits would a took a blast to
open 'em, ’an the pies might a soled
them butes, but she wa’n’t but a young
thing, 'an her husband was tho ouneri
est."
“They alius hes thet name in thsrn
cases,” suggested Mender, slyly.
“This wa’n’t no cases. lie never
koered, only that the wurk was
done, but I did,” —the miner’s face sad
dened— “an’ 1 sold out as good a team
ing business as you ever see."
“’Count o’ popler seut’mont, 1
sposc?"
“Nnw, thare’s queer things in a
man’s lifo; an’ ef I’d stayed I’d a killed
her husband, an’ that would a bin no
way to git her affection, an’ wouldn’t a
looked fair. Them's my morels. She
was his wife an’ a good woman. I sold
out tho biz at a dead loss,” (with a
aigh) “an’ I just wisht her timo o’ day
an’ run off like a coward. I starved up
hero fur ten years, an’ I wan’t pleased
with myself neither whon a fellor from
Fairplay told mo he heerod she an’ him
was awful poor, an’ sho was the wust
abused woman he ever see."
It was quite dark in the little shop
now, and Mender lit his lamp, leaning
low to his bench to see in the light. A
lean cat came purring oat of a corner,
and tho miner tilted back his chair.
“An’ me, with all my money, can’t
make that poor little soul comferble,”
he sighed.
There was a sound of quick footsteps
outside, something like the clatter of
slippers down at the heel, then the
latch clicked.
“Ain’t done, Nelly,’’ called the old
mto. “I’ll wait and finish’em; they’re
purty far gone.”
Thero was no answer, only a sort of
gasp and a smothered exclamation from
the minor, who brought his chair down
with a jerk. The old man looked at
them.
“I calc’late you two is ’ quainted,” he
grinned.
Bill ha 1 forgotten his one stocking
foot, even his stern morality, and she,
that little, thin creature, with her
white, worn f£v'e, her sad, tearless eyes,
was looking at him so wistfully, so
yearningly that ho must have known
she had not needed hi 3 telling her that
he carod for her before he ran away. A
quick suspicion flashed through his
mind. She loved him, and had come
to Colorado to find him these three
years back. Still his lips had to utter
the name in his heart so long.
“Nolly 1” he cried, with a sob; and
she— she put out her hands like a sleep
walker; then, with a low cry, she ran
to him and hid her face on his breast.
Still ho did not touch her as sho clung
to him, weeping passionately.
“It aren’t right," he muttered,
hoarsely. “I sed never should you be
as you is now, till it were. You an’ me
has seen camps, an* knows what wrong
love is.”
Sho only clung closer, such a child
like thing, ia her shabby black gown,
with her short little curls, and her tiny
hand clutching his arm.
“I tell you," ha cried, passionately,
“onso my arms meet around you, I shall
never let you go.”
“Wal. you needn’t,” said Mender,
dryly; but thure were tsar3 ia hh old
eyas. You needn’t, Bill—she’s a wil
der. ”
“It's only since this mornin’ ” he
continued, as the big arms m closed the
tiny figure, “out it’s proper,
I calc’late. She’d run away
from him, but he tracked her; six weeks
ago b« come in when wo was eatia’ sup
per, an’ Jane hove tho teapot at him.
Vi’lenco wa’n’t no me; he took Nelly
an’ her savin’*, an’ wai jest a-goin’ to
leave towa arter losin’ all sho hed, an’
draggia’ her along, whan tho altitudo
kitched him. I calc’late this place is
too nigh heaven fur a creepin* cuss like
thet to crawl. I was a mendin’ that
shoe for his widder to wear to the fun
eral.”
“I knowed no woman but her eould
wear’em.” cried Bill, holding the shoe
reverently, “an’ it shall be eet in gold
outer my mine.”
“It’a a mile too big,” sho said, very
blushing and shy, “an* is so horrid.’’
“Never hecred a woman but sed them
very words,” grinned Mender, beaming
on them. “Now, Bill, yourn’s done, an’
lemme stick a patch on that one, Nolly,
fur you don't wantorbe a creokia’ round
in new ones to the funerel, like you was
too glad to git him plarated.” *
The next afternoon, whon the twi
light shadows were falling, Jonathan
Mender stood in his shop door and
watched the train creep miles above oa
the mountain on its way to Denver.
“Purty rapid this western country,”
ho soliloquized, jingling the coins in
his pocket. ‘’Wo never mis 3no time;
but there ain’t man/ small wimmen like
Nolly as kin bury one husband in the
loronoon an’ git merried to the second
in the arternoon, an’ I guoss Bill don't
know the mate to that little shoe he’s
got stowed away is ovsr on my shelf
as a meme.ntomory that little number
one-—tho smallest fur wimmen-kind as
ever I see.’ —[Oace a Week.
The Key of the Nile.
One of the strangest facts in that land
or marvels, Central Africa, is the power
which the dwellers on the head waters
of the Nile have over the people who
live along its lower course. The very
existence of the Egyptians depends
largely upon the annual overflow of the
ancient river, which alone fertilizes
their Holds. This year the flood has
been much less than usual, and it is
supposed that the followers of El Mahdi,
far up tho river at Khartoum, have
diverted a part of tho stream into the
sandy deserts. Sir Simuel B iker, the
English explorer, says it would be pos
sible, by damming tho Nile at this
point, to turn it entirely into tho Red
Sea, and leave Egypt to starve.
Nor is the Madhi tho only magnate
who possesses thii power. According
to Mr. Stanley, Victoria Ny&nzs, tho
great lake from which tho stream of
the Nilo issues is on a plateau like an
inverted basin, and could be made to
trickle almost any point. In
nine months the King of Uganda c«ild,
if ho pleased, make tho Nile run dry by
draining tho lake to tho westward.
It must unpleasant reflection
for the farmer to know that
toaly water supply is liable to be
ned off at any time. —[Argo3y.
Six Persons aud 200,000 Goats.
Tho Guadaloupe island, which lies to
the west of tho southern extremity of
the International Company’3 grant, is at
present inhabited by only six persons —
four men, one woman and one young
girl. They were landed thero fourteen
months ago by tho sloop Liberty, Capt.
Behan, and ever since have been en
gaged in killing tho goats, of which
animals there are computed to be some
200,000 on the island, and the preserva
tion of tho skins. When the last
vessel visited tho island about 300 thor*
ougbbred Angora bucks were lauded
and turned loose, in tho hope of im
proving tho breed of the native spe
cies. Besides being the home of such
a large family of goats, tho island
claims attention as being a landmark
which appears to broak the progress of
a cold current of water which strikes it
from the north. In this current at dif
ferent seasons of the year thousands of
seal and sea lions find their way to the.
shores of the idand an l ara captured.
A Million-Dollar House.
The Schloss of I’olosch, near Siuaia,
where the Princ3 of Wales has ocen
staying, is the favorite reiidence of the
Kings and Queens of Roumania, says
the London World, and it was only
completed about two years ago, having
altogether cost upwards of $1.000, 000.
The house, which is oi red brick, is
in tho French Gothic style, with tur
rets, gables and verandas. It is lighted
by electricity, and wa3 furnished from
the principal capitals of Europe, and
decorated by a regiment of workpeople
from Paris. One suite of rooms is
furnished and adorned in pure Turkish
fashion.
The grounds, laid out in terraces, slop*
to the river, and the scenery all ttrotind
is magnificent, the houso being built on
a plateau, with the Carpathian Moun
tains behind and on both niles, covered
for miles with pine and beech ioreats,
and a lomantic vaiiey in froat. The
forests round Sinaia sw.irm with gaaa.
He Got It.
She was after a passport.
"How old are you, madam?"
“A woman is only as old as she looks,
you know.”
“Put the lady down as fifty, Georga”
“You horrid thing! I’m not fifty—
only thiity-four.’’- -[Bazar.
FRONTIER HOTELS.
Dinner-time Scenes in a Rough
and-Ready Mining Town.
Table Etiquette in Pretentious
ly-named Hotels.
It is not generally known, perhaps,
that the casual visitor to a mining town
may takß his choice, when the mid-day
dinner hour arrives, from a positively
staitliag array of famous hostelries. He
may, if ho will, tuck his attenuate sil
ver-knobbed umbrella under his arm,
thrust his moncclo into his left eye,
turn up his London-made trousers, and
stroll down the main street undecided
whether to bestow his patronage upon
Delmonico’s, tho Cafe Brunswick, tho
M tison Doree, Barker's or tha Filth
Avenue. Ha is likely to see all of them
if ho misses in review tha entire liftt.
It is quite immaterial upon
which establishment his choice finally
fails. If he elects to associate with the
upper classes he may probably decide
to pay seventy-rive cants or a dollar for
his repast, or ho may economize to the
extent of a quarter of a dollar and dine
for fifty cents at »otne comparatively
unfashionable resort. In either event
he is likely to sit between flannel-Clad
persons with the stain of gold-bearing
mud upon their garments, slouch hats
upon their head», and an inexhaustible
supply of rough-and-ready Snxon in
their speech.
In tho higher priced establishments,
patronized by engineers, superintend
ents and transient capitalists, a portion
of tho guests may see fit toremovo thoir
hats while seated, but, as in the British
House of Commons, it is not considered
particularly good form to do so.
One experience of a promenade en
habit, aa it were, on the way to tha
principal thoroughfare, is enough to
send a sensitive soul to the nearest
place whore he can procure a pair of
miner’s boots wherein to conceal the
lower portion of his trousers, a felt hat
and some kind of a coat not conspicuous
for its fashionable cut. Then when
clad more in accordance with locsl
stylo he is tolerably certain to coma in
for a Bnare of good-natured guying on
the part of miners off duty; but if he is
possessed of a fair share of tact and a
goodly stock of dark-hued but inex
pensive cigar?, brought from the Ewt
for gratuitous distribution, he will soon
find himself treated with merited con
sideration.
Whon the twelve-o’clock whistle blows
at tho stamping-mill tha “day shift”
cheerfully throws down its tools and
makes a ru;h e:t masse for tha hotel
centres, whence promptly upon the
stroke of twelve there arise a clanging
of bells, a tooting of horns, a tinkling
of triangles, stentorian oral invitations
to dice, and in short all tho devices for
attracting attention and consequent
ducats that tho ingenuity oT tho re
sources of tho proprietor can com
mand.
In view of the necessarily limitoi ta
ble room, promptness and energy aro at
a premium during the first minutes of
the dinner hour, for your miner likes to
enjoy his smoke, and mayhap his grog,
before going to his afternoon work, and
there is a choice of soats. Often thero
is a deal of good -natured horse-play in
the opening scramble, but it is rare
that anything serious ensues, though
there era plenty of deadly weapons
openly w#ra in almost any of the table
groups that ona may see.
A considerable proportion of the
miners prefer to keep bachelors’ hall,
and enjoy the select society of their
own cabins; but in general some kind
oi a combination is eventually formed
whereby the services of a cook are
secured, and under proper management
such “masses” aro usually more satis
factorily served thai at such rival
hotels as aro afforded by tha average
mining town in its rudimentary stages
of development.—[Harper’s Weekly.
Veteran Government Clerics.
Tho career of a government clerk is
fairly typified in the case of James
Eveleth, tho vetoran of the War De
partment. He began working for the
United States in 1829 at SBOO a year. In
1836 ho was given SIOOO a yearjia 1850,
$1,250 a year; from 1851 to 1853 he
was paid $1,500 and the next year was
promoted to $1,600. In 1864 he was
given SI,BOO, and in 1885, on account
of advancing age, was re duced to $1 600.
Thero he is now at about 80 years of
age and there he will die, unless, he
lives long enough to suff r further re
ductions. Appointment Clerk Smith, of
the Treasury, tells me he has on his
rolls erne men over 70, the oldest being
Hiram Pitt*, born in 1802. Ilichaid
White, aged 70, hai spent 53 years of
his life in the Department. John Love
joy worked 40 years in the Treasury,
with but 41 days lost time. A few of
the oi l employes ia the various deaart
inenjts are virtually on the retired list,
by consent drawing full pay. Two or
three of them have their salaries sent to
them, and do not visit their desks once
a year. Thera is no warrant in law for
thi% bat who car«»* - {Philadelphia
News.
Catching Onail in Nets.
A correspondent of the Forest aud
Stream writes from the island of Ana
capri, in the Mediterranean S-a:
When the quail first arrived this sea.
son nets were in realines?, but the
birds c*,ma vary straggling. Every
conceivable spot on the edge of tha
island was occupied, giving it the
appearance of being fenced in. These
nets are from nine to ten meters high,
the higher tha better, with rings on
their sides, through which good
sized cords aro run. These are
securely fastened on the tops of
immensa high poles, and when the
wind is not too strong are kept contin
ually spread, otherwise they are un
fastened and run down like a sail or a
curiam. These nets are contrived ia
such a manner as to form a kind of
sack, by leaving it ia folds, or having
a piece added to it, so at every interval
of perhaps a meter or meter and a half
comes one of these bags. The poor,
unwary birds come flying, wearied and
fatigued from thoir trip ovor the sea, on
in full force, strike against tho fence
(no better name cau I find for these
nets, encircling the island as they do),
fall into the bag; become entangleJ,
and aro immediately pounced upon by
tha greedy isiandersi Sometimes, not
often, after a lucky struggle, a bird
frees itself and clears the net, but only
to fall a victim to one of tho numerous
hunters with guns standing oa the other
side, scattered in all directions and dis
tances from the shore.
From 50,009 to 60,000 quail are tent
away from this island alive every year;
how many are shot is more than I know.
It seems that the renown of this islaud
as a quail-hunting place i* very old, for
I have read that somewhere about 1786
the quail, doves and other migra
tory birds were a scarce of iacrease to
the revenue. The number caught
varied every year, the greatest catch in
one day was 12,000, and during the
wholo time of passage, which does not
last more than fifteen days, they nevar
caught more than 150,000 birds. Capri
had a bishop who derived the most of
his income from the quail, etc., and
from this fact ha was somewhat ir
reverently styled the Bishop of Quail.
The Mesquite Tree.
The mesquito flourishes principally
in Texas, Mexico, California, and also
ia some of the western states. It is one
of the most useful trees that grow.
In general appearance the mesquite
very much resembles tho psach trea. It
is larger and tailor, but this leaves arc
long and narrow liko those of tho peach
tree, and like it tha growth of the tree
is crooked.
It does not bear any such luscious
fruit as tho poach tree, and right hero
nature seems to have made a mistake.
It has, no doubt, been observed by the
reader that boys are much given to
swinging and playing in peach trees
when tho fruit is ripe, and that this
playfulness results in much loss of fruit
to the ownor of the orchard.
Now, the poach tree is not provided
by nature with long, sharp thorns, but
tho mesquito is. It is supplied with so
many and so sharp thorns that if tho
peach tree were similarly protected the
fruit would be safe from the depreda
tions of tho most daring youths.
The mesquito tree produces a long,
narrow bean, which, when ripe, has a
sweetish taste, and is eagerly sought by
cattle, horses and hoga. It is said to
ba tho most fattening food that can be
given to a horse. As soon as the beans
are perfectly ripe iu the fall of the year
they drop to tho ground for the accom
modation of the animals.
The mesquito tree makes tho best
fuel in the world, throwing out intenso
heat and producing very little smoke.
From the bark of the meaquita ex
udes a gum which in point of adhesive
ness, is equal to tho best gum arabic,
and which is much sought after by
druggists. Its bark is equal to the
best oak bark for tannery purposes.
The wood is very hard, and can be mol
to great advantage when sawed into
blocks for street paving purposes.—
[Texas Stftings.
Husband Tour Income.
Next to the evil ol living beyond one’s
means is that of spending all one’s in
come, says Dr. Talmage in the New
York Observer. There aro multitudes
who are sailing so near ahoro that a
slight wind in tho wrong direction
founder* them. They get on well
while the times are usual and the wages
promptly paid; but a panic or a short
period of sickness, and they drop help
less. Many a father has gone with his
famiiy in fine carriages drawn by a spank
ing team till ho came up to his grave;
then he lay down, and his children have
got out of the carriage, and not only
been compelled to walk, but to go bare
foot. Against parsimony and niggard
liness I proclaim war; but with the
same sentence I condemn those who
make a grand splash while they livo,
leaving tbrir families in destitution
when they die.
Logical.
“Stop that noi-c! Do you want to
deafen us? ’
“Yes’rn; then you won’t mind tho
noise.”—[Li r e.
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OUR PLATFORM:
We Pledge Ourselves iu Favor of
PROTECTION
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Misrepresentations.
FREETRADE
FOR EVERY ONE,
With the Merchant who
does most for his
Customers.
PROHIBITION
Of Monopolistic Rings,
Inflated values and op
pressive high prices.
Buy as you vote, intelligently. As candi
dsites"for your patronage, we invite
an examination of our business
record in support of our
claim for fair dealing.
We promise for
the future
The Best in Quality,
The Host in Quantity,
And the Lowest Price*
TO ALL CUSTOMERS, without dis
tinction of age or class, and behind
our promise stands our enor
mous stock of
BARGAINS,
which are being crowded upon us by out
NEW YORK BUYER.
Never have we been in condition to offer
our patrons such advantages as .
at this time. Our '
MILLINERY DEPARTMENT
has no equal. Our Stock the Largest,
Assortment the Best, and Prices tn@
Lowest. Our stock of
DRESS GOODS
Below the Lowest. Our
Fancy Goods Department
will save you a handsome profit,
STAPLE GOODS DEPARTMENT
stands at the head for a money saver to
our customers.
OUR SEWING MACHINE DEPARTMENT
includes all the
LEADING MACHINES
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Starting in price at $5 and up.
In this department we
Buy, Sell, Exchange and
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ANY AND ALL KINDS.
Remember that FOUR DAYS in each
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our customers. 3omc days we give to
every 10th purchaser and some days to
every sth, and some days to all.
Our patrons are well aware that we
BETTER VALUE FOR
THE MONEY.
Than any other house in
CIATTAIQOIA!
Come along, and we will
PROVE TO YOU
That you can Savo money by making
your Purchases of us.
H. H. SOUDER-