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istence, they must have the tenderest leaves, and, at all times, the greatest attention must be paid to cleanliness. Be careful never to touch a caterpillar with warm hands, and never give it its food when wet. I generally rear about a couple of hundred Potatoria, and never otherwise than on Bromus Sterilis and Arvenis. May I, in conclusion, ask you, Sir, to tell me how you bring up Potatoria-by feeding them with water? I have never heard of this plan, and should be extremely curious to know it before next season, in order that I might compare it with my own.-ВouвYx ATLAS, Tottenham.

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A Happy Mouse-Knowing how ably and how kindly you advocate the cause of all domestic pets, I venture to give you a brief history of my happy life; hoping it may be the means of some other of my dear little relations being equally fortunate and happy. I must premise that I belong to a very amiable mistress, whose name is "Anne" (all ladies named "Anne are amiable, and she is one of the younger daughters of "Bombyx Atlas," whom for shortness I will call "B." Now, it happened rather more than two years ago, that "B." was fluttering about Great St. Andrew Street, Holborn (a strange locality at such a strange season of the year, for such a large exotic as "B." to choose), when he suddenly stopped opposite a window, in front of which my miserable cage was placed. I did not escape his eye. Ever accustomed to watch all Nature's creatures, my funny little body was soon perceived; and I saw by the twinkle of his optics, that my fate was sealed; so, fearing to excite more of his curiosity (being perfectly ignorant as to what my fate might be), I ran in-doors and hid myself. But it was too late. "Show me that little fawn-colored mouse, if you please," said "B.," and my cruel mistress brought me out, as well as my little brother and sister. The business was soon settled. I was purchased, packed up, and taken home. When my cage was opened, I saw a large black dog called "Fino," and he opened such a dreadful mouth! I thought it was all over with us-cage and all. Judge of my surprise, then, at finding myself placed in a nice new cage; so clean and so neat with some delicious bread and milk. I was coaxed too, and played with, by "B." and my dear new mistress. Well, though I trembled so much when first I saw him, yet did I soon get accustomed to the old gentleman, who himself cleaned out my cage regularly every morning before he had his own breakfast. After a time, I had a little family; and "B." was so pleased with my children, that he bought a new house for us, and made us quite happy. Bless his old heart, Mr. Editor! After I had been six months in the family, I was named "Little Downy," my sister "Velvet," and my brother "Silkes." These names were taken from a very interesting little volume, entitled "The History of Little Downy; or, the Life of a Field Mouse," by Susannah Strickland, which "B." gave my little mistress some six years ago, at Lausanne, in Switzerland. I am now two years old, as are also my sister and brother; and I am dignified by the name of Queen Downy. My dear old master never eats his breakfast until he has made my cage clean, sweet, and comfortable; and my fond little mistress feeds me,

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and brings me all kinds of dainties. This kindness does not end with me. I have seven children of different ages, and the same care is equally extended to them. Their names are "Wilful," "Sprightly," "Fawny,' Snowdrop," "PinkEyes," "Brown-Paw," and "Crocus." I have also a numerous progeny in this neighborhood, and at Wyckham Market, Suffolk. Myself, my brother, and my sister, inhabit a beautiful palace; and my seven children another, and a more capacious one, close by me. We occupy a nice corner in "B.'s little study, and a snug corner it is too! There sits my old master, writing to the Editor of OUR JOURNAL, on one side of the cosy table; and his favorite FINO on the other a large black cat stretched before the fire, and a dear little redpole opposite to my palace. Nay, Mr. Editor, I once saw your own smiling countenance in the said little room, when you drank Fino's health in a glass of ale. [Hush!] Now some people object to us poor little mice, because we are "dirty things." This is libellous. Only let them follow the kind example of my master and his daughter Anne, and clean our palaces regularly every day— giving us sweet wholesome food, and I am certain you will not find that we deserve such abuse. No; and we will enliven your apartment very much indeed, by our merry, active, cheerful movements. Ought I not to bless the day when first my master caught sight of my tiny body in St. Andrew St.; and am I not a happy mouse? In conclusion, let the Field Mouse," by Susannah Strickland, to me recommend the "History of Little Downy; or, every kind-hearted young lady; and may it induce them to keep a pair of pet mice! May they afford as much amusement to their mistress as I do to mine; and may they be as happy as your affectionate-LITTLE DOWNY, Tottenham, March 15.

What is "the cause" of the various Fogs that arise?-Will you, Sir, be so kind as to explain to me the origin of fog? Does it ascend or descend? Please tell me, as I have heard conflicting opinions. -A YOUTHFUL INQUIRER.

[The very common, but mistaken idea that the fog which we see of an evening hanging over low meadows, and by the sides of streams, is ascending, arises very naturally from our first observing it in low places; and, as the cool of the evening advances, remarking that it ascends to higher land. The fact is, however not that the damp is ascending, but that, from the coldness of those situations, they are the first places which condense the before invisible vapor. As the cold of the evening advances, the condensation takes place at a higher level. A large portion of the vapor ascends to the upper regions of the atmosphere, where it cools, and becomes visible to us in the form of clouds; and increasing in density by cooling, they gradually descend nearer to the earth-until at last, becoming too condensed by the loss of heat, they fall in rain, to be again returned in endless succession.]

Gold Fish.-The beautiful little fish, called in this country "gold and silver fish," were originally natives of China and Japan. In these countries they are held in great estimation, and are called Kingu. From China, the English carried some of them to St. Helena; and from thence the captain

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of one of our East India ships brought some of them to England in the year 1728.-ELIZA G.

The Gapes in Fowls.-How can I remove from the throat of my suffering birds, the worm that prevents them from eating their food? They pine sadly, and hide away in corners.-DOROTHY T.

[Take a soft feather. Strip it to within an inch of the bottom, and carefully put it down the invalid's throat. After twirling it rapidly round between your hands, and quickly withdrawing it, the enemy will be found adhering to the feather. To facilitate this operation, place the chicken between your knees.]

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a couple of fish-ponds to be formed with the water of the adjoining brook, and stored one of them with trout and the other with tench. It was evidently his wish to render himself comfortable in the retreat where he had a reasonable prospect of passing many years."-DODMAN.

Sagacity of the Sheep Dog, or Collie.-On the 18th February says the Banffshire Mail, the shepherds on the extensive grazing grounds belonging to Captain Grant, Achorachan, Glenlivat, were compelled, in consequence of the heavy falls of snow, to drive the sheep from the high grounds. It turned out that sixty head were missing. For these, instant search was made by the shepherds. For a long time, no clue was got to the missing animals, and the shepherds were nearly exhausted with fatigue; when one of their dogs was seen digging a hole in the snow with its fore feet. The shepherds went to the spot; and down the hole made by the animal, one of the men thrust a stick, and instantly discovered by the motion that he touched a living animal. The men now all set to work; and after removing snow to the depth of some six or eight feet, found the whole of the missing sheep all huddled together. Had it not been for the timely discovery, it is more than probable that not one of the sheep would have been left unsmothered.-E. S.

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Arrivals of Strange Birds in Cornwall, and Devonshire generally. During the month of February, many birds not generally seen hereabout, flocked to this neighborhood in large numbers. I am no ornithologist, but all who enjoy the power of observation who were hereabout during the early part of February, could not help seeing some of the many strange birds driven south by stress of weather. Amongst these were the lapwings, or pee-weets of many localities. On one occasion, I saw fully two hundred of them on about an acre of meadow grass. The natives have shot many of them for stuffing. Golden plovers are another species that came to see us a very shy bird likewise, yet some of them fell a prey to the amateur sportsman. The water wag- Death in the Pot.-Alas, Mr. Editor, what a tails, as they are called in the north, likewise came world we live in! We can neither eat, nor drink, in goodly numbers. In some instances these without danger. Read what is now going the birds will soon become as familiar as the gar-round of the press; and tremble, if you be " deners' well-known acquaintance, the little pug- man given to appetite." We are warned to mark nacious robin-redbreast. Many goldfinches were yonder portly individual. He has scarcely passed seen; some of them were found to have died the period of maturity we are told, and yet he from the effects of the cold. Starlings were re- incessantly complains of ailments which the art of sorting to the more sheltered portions of the no physician has yet been enabled to reach. His higher grounds, and every now and again passing health is evidently breaking; his system and repassing in considerable flocks, keeping up has struggled long against the ravages of an amongst themselves an incessant chatter. Since insidious foe. Probably the water with which about the 20th ult., the above-named migratory his domicile is supplied, besides being tainted inhabitants have apparently nearly all taken with all the foulness that a "London Company themselves off from this neighborhood. The lap- can impart, is received into leaden cisterns, which wing is so seldom seen here, that many persons are fast corroding from the action of carbonic had never observed any of them before. Moor- acid; and are thus hourly tending to bring their hens, likewise, came in immense numbers, and victim to the grave, by means slow but sure, many water-fowl; all testifying to the severity and terrible as sure. At breakfast, his tea, of the weather throughout Great Britain. colored (as it commonly is) with Prussian blue, G. DAWSON, Cornwall, March 5. chromate of lead, or carbonate of copper, adds to the already poisonous nature of the water with which it is combined. His bread, if he resides in London, is certainly adulterated with alum, not improbably plaster of Paris or sand. His beer is "doctored with coculus Indicus, grains of Paradise, quassia, &c. Those ghirkins,

Introduction of the India Pink into Europe.The following extract from the delightful book of Mr. Stirling, the "Cloister Life of Charles V.," may be interesting to your readers :-" From Tunis he is said to have brought not only the best of his laurels, but the pretty flower called Indian of emerald hue, that appear so innocent, and, Pink, sending it from the African shore to his consequently so tempting in their prismatic jar, garden in Spain, whence in time it won its way owe their seductive beauty to one of the deadinto every cottage garden in Europe. Yuste was liest poisons in all the range of chemistry! a very Paradise for these simple tastes and harm- The verdant apricots in that tart, are attractive less pleasures. The Emperor spent part of the from the same baneful cause! The anchovysummer in embellishing the ground immediately paste, produced contemporaneously with the below his windows; he raised a terrace on which cheese, if analysed, would be found to consist of he placed a fountain, and laid out a parterre, and an amalgam of decayed sprats, Venetian red, beneath it he formed a second parterre; planted and red lead. Nay, that double-Gloucester itlike the first with flowers and Orange trees. self is not free from contamination. Its color is Amongst his poultry were some Indian fowls, sent due to annatto; and that annatto has been comhim by the Bishop of Placencia. He also caused pounded of red lead, chrome, and ochre. The

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oil in that salad has possibly come from Paris, where incredible quantities are manufactured at the knacker's yard! Whole carcasses of horses being there boiled down, the fat is resolved into its component stearine and elaine; the former being converted into candles, and the latter into olive oil.-But I will stop here-hoping that some good may come out of the knowledge of so much evil!-JANE R., Chiswick.

Mr. Stephens' Cabinets of British Insects.British Entomologists will be pleased to learn that the Trustees of the British Museum have purchased the whole of the late Mr. J. F. Stephens' Cabinets of British Insects. As the Collection contains the whole of the typical specimens described by Marsham in the "Entomologia Britannica," a considerable number of those described by Haworth in his "Lepidoptera Britannica," and the whole of those described in Mr. Stephens' "Illustrations of British Entomology' -the acquisition of this collection is of course a matter of national interest.-W.

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"The Ladies' Petition."-As OUR JOURNAL treats of "Things in General,"-may I ask what you think, Mr. Editor, of the monster petition of the Ladies of England, on the subject of American Slavery? Though a woman myself, I really blush for my sex. Tell me-am I right ?-SUSANNA.

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[Yes, Lady Susanna; you are right. The 'twenty-six volumes, folio, of Signatures," got up by our masculine women of England, will stand as an indelible "mark of impertinence" so long as time shall last. They have had one decent trimming already-they richly deserve another. How brightly Woman shines in her own sphere! But let her once pass the bounds of decorumand where will she not run to! "Clever Women," and "Political Women," are our mortal aversion.]

Evergreen Shrubs introduced into Flower Gardens. It would justly be considered, at the present day, a retrograde movement in gardening practice to train or trim trees and shrubs in representation of animal life; and such figures, however skilfully formed, cannot be ornamental, but rather indicate a whimsical and childish taste. There can be nothing more pleasing to the eye than symmetry of form, as represented in the gigantic formation of our forest trees that occupy individual stations in the park or lawn, or the finely-balanced proportions of our less imposing shrubs forming single specimens or massed in groups, towards the limits or boundary of the flower gardens. That shrubs and flowers, as separate objects, possess beauty independent of one another, is willingly admitted; yet a visit to the flower gardens at the present time, forces the evident truth before us that, with a great amount of labor, time, and expense, we are only remunerated by a fine display of color for a very short period of time; and until that time again comes round, we have nothing to look upon but the empty and desolate appearance of the flower beds. That this order of things is absolutely necessary, cannot be at least in its widest sense; for if there is a shadow of reason why oranges, and other tender shrubs in boxes, should occupy prominent situations in the flower-garden in summer,

there is a necessity for supplying their places with some of our hardy ornamental shrubs, which can be kept in reserve for that purpose. Planting up the empty beds would rather be a matter of consideration of time and labor, than any difficulty in the operation; and very little extra trouble would be involved in keeping plants for the express purpose. An arrangement of this sort highly necessary—at least where the flower garden is contiguous to the mansion; and by introducing choice varieties of shrubs, patches of earlyflowering heath, and margining the beds with different-colored crocus, and other early-flowering bulbs, the whole effect would be lively and pleasing.-G. F.

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Chance, or Design?--In what confusion, says the good Derham, must the world for ever have been, but for the variety which we find to exist in the faces, the voices, and handwritings of men! No security of person, no certainty of possession, no justice between man and man, no distinction between good and bad, friends and foes, father and child, husband and wife, male and femaleall would have been exposed to malice, fraud, forgery, and oppression. But now man's face can distinguish him in the light, his voice in the dark; and his handwriting can speak for him though absent, and be his witness to all generations. Did this happen by chance, or is it not a manifest, as well as an admirable indication of a Divine superintendence ?—Infidelity, Mr. Editor, must surely "blush sometimes! What a horrible wretch an atheist must be!—AMELIA C.

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[Yes, dear Minnie. Such characters lie down like monsters, and rise up mere cumberers of the ground. Hating their Creator, they try to poison all the streams through which His many mercies flow. Do such people, Minnie, read OUR JOURNAL? Oh, no!]

Insects.-Cossus, Cerura; &c.-Thanks, many, to BOMBYX ATLAS, for his kind information. As regards Cossus, I have tried no articula method for rearing it, beyond supplying it with fresh wood; but it could neither be induced to eat, nor to change its state. I have another now,a small one, procured a few weeks since. How shall I manage him? Do they exist as larvæ for one year, or for three years? This is variously stated in different books. Should I be able to secure any more of the eggs L was unsuccessful with, I will certainly avail myself of BOMBYX's kind offer immediately. I cannot now for one moment doubt the fact with regard to Cerura, after the confirmation it has received. However, I should be very sorry, in this instance, to have ocular demonstration. I think myself very fortunate in having escaped their discharge, While rearing them last year, they were certainly very compassionate to a young and unskilful entomologist. I have experienced great pleasure in reading the communications sent by BOMBYX to OUR JOURNAL; and should feel much obliged to him, if he could give any information as to the best method of obtaining caterpillars.-CERURA, Pimlico.

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THE POETRY OF LIFE.

Oh, never had the Poet's lute a hope,
An aim so glorious as it now may have
In this our social state; where petty cares
And mercenary interests only look
Upon the present's littleness, and shrink
From the bold future, and the stately past.
'Tis the POET's gift to melt these frozen waters.
L. E. L.
MAY

HEREVER WE CHANCE TO BE, we never fail to make good use both of our eyes and of our ears. Nor have we ever found any valid reason for deviating from this our general rule; every day adding something to what we knew

before.

Seated, a few days since, in a snug corner of a well-frequented hotel, a name not altogether unknown to us was frequently and earnestly repeated by two individuals from whose gaze we were fortunately concealed. That name was our own-and the subject of

conversation was THIS VERY JOURNAL. Naturally interested, we listened-and as naturally expected to "hear no good" of ourself. In this expectation we were, how ever, agreeably disappointed.

It appeared that the two disputants were canvassing the merits of OUR JOURNAL; both warmly applauding its matter and its manner, and considering it calculated to be of great public service. One of the parties, however, marvelled that poetry should find such a place in it. His companion asked, what could be his motive for so odd a remark; seeing that Poetry was the presiding genius of the periodical? The reply was, that the dissentnever read poetry-did not like poetry; it was so dry." For his part, "he could not understand it, and always skipped it as he did the speeches of members of Parliament, reported in the newspapers. All the rest was EXCELLENT."-OUR JOURNAL compared with parliamentary speeches!!

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Well; as we feel quite sure that this article will come under the immediate eye of the two speakers referred to, let us quietly argue the point with the gentleman who sees no beauty in poetry. Perhaps if his friend kindly seconds us, we may yet make a convert of him; and give a fresh zest to his future pleasures in life. He cannot, we surmise, have numbered more than four-andtwenty summers; and his experience, we imagine, must have been very limited. Yet did his presence greatly interest us, as the remarks we are about to offer will show. We write the more forcibly, in consequence of the conversation that reached our ear.

Poetry, although hardly to be defined in words, is that which sets aside all that morbid feeling which is observable in the world at large. It moves in an orbit of its

VOL. III.-13.

own, and dispenses around it a perfectly pure atmosphere. It ridicules trifles, and makes the best of everything that happens. There is poetry in the smallest action of life-poetry in rendering a little service, poetry in returning thanks for it; poetry in receiving, feeling, and acknowledging those thanks. This refined feeling renders life a garden of flowers,and creates a sympathy in genial hearts which is perfectly indescribable. Most of our readers enter readily into the nature and

truth of our remarks.

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Feeling thus, when we go abroad for a walk we see everything in our path with a loving eye. We are not disposed to look on the dark side of nature. We want everybody to love what we love; to see with our eyes; to feel with our heart. Nor is it unusual, in the genial months now opening upon us, to find many a frank disposition harmonising with our own. The only thing to be lamented is, the evanescent feeling. It changes too often with time and circumstance. The impression is neither deep nor lasting. It might be so, but for circumstances. It is a too close contact with sordid and mean spirits, that has such a powerful influence over the ingenuous mind! "Like priest like people," is an adage true of the domestic hearth, as it is of the conventicle.

Many a stroll have we had in a lovely lane; and many a strolling companion have we fraternised with in our rambles. Somehow -we cannot give a reason-heart seems to respond to heart, and sympathy finds itself a resting-place. We meet, we walk, we gossip, we innocently touch some tender chord. Distance melts away. The chance companion of a morning's ramble carries home with her half our heart; and, if we never meet again, the remembrance of such an interview is "sweet." Brother, sister, friend; all and each have we met by turns.

These rambles are now 66 on." The sun, who at this season is ALL poetry, instinctively calls us forth; and as naturally finds us a companion. We are not long in reading the heart. One glance keeps us dumb, or unlocks our sympathies; and when we do find our counterpart, who more happy than we? If such feelings, such companions, such an interchange of thoughts, be not poetical, then are we a stranger to the true meaning of the word poetry. There would be more of this enjoyment felt, if we were a less artificial people; but when the winter comes, the poetry, alas! of spring and summer vanish, and we descend to the regions of cold, icy prose! Nature, in England, is only used as a convenience She is not idolised- not worshipped. We talk of her, but are ever at war with her.

We have been speaking of poetry, and eulogising it in its application to matters of

every-day life. It may not be amiss, before closing this article, to give ADDISON'S beautiful definition of a poet. It embodies in its fulness all we can conceive of excellence in the human heart. Of all feelings, poetry is the most sublime. It creates and sustains innocence, and imparts a perfect purity of mind.

The poet, says Addison, is not obliged to attend Nature in the slow advances she makes from one season to another, or to observe her conduct in the successive production of plants and flowers. He may draw into his description all the beauties of spring and autumn, and make the whole year contribute something to render it the more agreeable. His rose-trees, woodbines, and jessamines may flower together; and his beds be covered at the same time with lilies, violets, and amaranths. His soil is not restrained to any particular set of plants; but is proper either for oaks or myrtles, and adapts itself to the products of every climate. Oranges may grow wild in it; myrrh may be met with in every hedge; and if he thinks it proper to have a grove of spices, he can quickly command sun enough to raise it. Nay, he can make several new species of flowers; with rich scents and higher than any that grow in the gardens of Nature. His concerts of birds may be as full and harmonious, and his woods as thick and gloomy as he pleases. He is at no more expense in a long vista than in a short one; and can as easily throw his cascades from a precipice of half a mile high as from one of twenty yards. He has his choice of the winds, and can turn the course of his rivers, in all the variety of meanders that are most delightful to the reader's imagination.

With such instinctive powers as these, no wonder that a true poet, or a lover of Nature (for they are both "one") should be a happy man. Neither can we wonder if he labor hard to make others as happy as himself. Our time here is very short. Why should we not, whilst we live," enjoy" that which is so completely within our reach?

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IMAGINE A WET DAY in a place of summer resort; and you have one of the most miserable pictures which can be presented to the mind of a pleasure-seeking traveller. The streets are flowing with a solution of clay and other solubles, and the rain is running in dirty streams down the whitewashed faces of the inns, or perchance, down the equally dirty face of the stable-boy, who undoes the reeking horses from some shandy-dan, whose occupants, tempted by a momentary gleam of sunshine, darted off to the waterfall, and now re

turn with faces which ruefully express their unanimous opinion that they have had enough of water, for the present.

And then, to look at the windows and notice the phrenological and physiognomical developments! and the many expedients employed by the storm-staid to express, or hide their disappointment! It is enough to draw pity from the bosom of a Timon; or to make a Jacques laugh.

In a town like Keswick, situated in the very midst of the country where rain seems to be fostered, if not born, it is necessary to have some other, and more intellectual, amusement than sitting at the windows of the inn, admiring the different expressions of countenance exhibited in the windows opposite; or watching the floods of water wandering down the two narrow streets, (I could never find their names) which, after skirting the Town-hall, meet and pour their waters into the milky way of the main street, the union forcibly reminding us of a capsized capital Y. Perhaps no little town would be more fortunate in wet days. We do not refer to the comforts of the inns; or the books contained in them, and in the circulating libraries. These we care little about, as we can have them at home. What we want here is, something interesting in connection with the country which we are in; and about which, even the softest drawing-room tourist would like to know a little. Well, there are two exhibitions especially fitted for wet-day-visits, though profitably visited on dry days as well and these are, the Museum and the Model.

The day being wet, we had rushed down the street so far as the post-office; and while waiting at the window for our letters, we were astonished by the sight of the jaws of a whale acting as portals over a door to our left hand. and the mystery was at once cleared up. We glanced at the sign above, There we saw, in gold letters-we like gold letters, they always read so smooth-" Crossthwaite's Museum." This was too much to be resisted; so in we went-not, of course, looking for anything like a British Museum, but expecting to find a little food for reflection, and amusement for part of a wet day. Passing some interesting Roman relics of ponderous size, we ascended the stair; and were received in the first room by the fair expositor. The museum, like every other, consists of Antiquities, and Natural History specimens. Among the former are some good vases, fibule, and other articles of vèrtu; also a sword, evidently of Roman make, with scabbard in good preservation, found at Embleton, nine miles from Keswick; and an eagle, which seems to have formed a portion of the decoratives of some warrior's helmet. These were among the most beautiful. One

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