/ THE CHRISTIAN SUN. IN ESSENTIALS, UNITY; IN NON-ESSENTIALS, LIBERTY; IN ALL THINGS, CHARITY. Volume XXXtll. SUFFOLK, YA., FRIDAY MAY 28, 1880. ISTumber 22. $ oetrg. But can they prove the itory tine? Why count yourself among the “they'’ Who whisper what they dare sot say? Suspicion may arise from naught But malice, envy, want of thought. “They say !”—but why the tale rehearse, And help to make the matter worse? No good can possibly accrue Prom telling what may be untrue ; And is it not a nobler plan To speak of all the best you can ? “They suy I—well, if it should be so, Why need you tell the tale of woe? Will it the bitter wrong redress, Or make one pang of sorrow less ? Will it the erring one restore, Henceforth to “go and sin no more ?” “They say 1“—Oh, pause and look within, See bow thine heart inclines to sin; And lest in dark temptation’s hour Thou, too, shouldst sink beneath its power, Pity the frail, weep o’er their fall, But speak of good or not at all. —Selected. election^. HERE AND THERE. —Loid, I will never come away from thee without thee.—St. Bet nard. —Treat servants as yon would like to be treated y out self, were you in their place. —Many have withstood the frowns of the world, but its smiles and ca resses have hugged them to death. —God walks with the simple; He reveals Himself to the lowly; He gives understanding to the little ones ; He discloses His meaning to pure minds, and hides His grace from the curious and proud.—Thomas a’Kempis. —A French military officer, during a street riot in Paris, was tired at, but the shot missed. Turning, with a sword drawn, to revenge the attempt, he uiscovered that his assailant was a woman, aud with Freuch politeness, sheathed his sword aud raised his hat to her. —A rather talkative woman one day said to Rowland Hill, “I have been a good deal of late, with some Papists, aud they have sadly tempted me to change my religion.” “Indeed, ma’am,” he replied, “I was not aware nntil uow that you had any religion to chauge.” —Sidney Smith once preached a sermon from the text: “Oh that men would praise the Lord.” There is still need that that topic should be dwelt upon, lhe small number of men who go to church, and who pre sent themselves for confirmation, is noticeable. - Richmond churchyard, in Eng land, coutains a monument, with an epitaph to the metuory of Robert Lawes, Esq., who, though a barrister, “was so great a lover of peace that when a contention arose between Life and Death he immediately yielded up the ghost to end the dispute.” —Jerry Black is a firm believer in oldtime orthodoxy. Some one re marked in his presence that the lines that formerly divided people in re gard to religious matters were fading out. “Yes,” said the Judge, “aud I notice that the nice distinctions be tween right aud wrong are going with them.” —When Christ was about to leave this world, He made His will. His soul He committed to His .Father ; His body He bequeathed to Joseph, to be deceutly iuterred; His clothiug fell to the soldiers; His mother He left to the care of Johu. But what should He leave toHis.poor disciples that had left all for Him f Silver aud gold He had uoue, but He left that which was infinitely better,His peace. “Peace I leave with you, my peace 1 give you.” And eternal life also: “J give unto them eterual life, aud they shall never perish.” —From an account kept by Row land Hill, it appears that up to June 10th, 1S3L, he had preached 22,291 times. It may, therefore, be fairly concluded, that up to the close of his long ministry of sixty-six years he had preached at least 23,000 sermons, being an average of nearly 350 every year. Many of these discourses were delivered iu streets and Helds. In reference to these services, Mr. Hill has said that, as far as he had ascer tained, more souls were couverted nnder those sermons than under any others that he preached. Other emi nent ministers of the gospel have been equally indefatigable. White field, it appears, in thirty-four years preached 18,000 sermons; and John Wesley, who lived to about the same age as Mr. Hill, delivered 40,560. AN OBJECT^ LESSON. The aspirations of ambition are in herent in the human heart. Our Lord Jesus, preaching the gospel <#f lowliness and humility, continually encountered the unholy ambitious of his followers. From almost the be ginning of his ministry, down to that Inst hour when the disciples received the broken bread at his bands, and the cup of the covenant, tokeii of his blood so soon to be spilled, there was the restlessness o( ambition, the con tention as to who among them should be the greatest. Again and again he was obliged to rebuke this unholy emulation, and to warn them against an evil which has so thoroughly root ed itself in the church, and wrought such widespread desolation through the ages'of its existence. On one occasion ‘‘he came to Ca peruanm, and being in the house he asked them, What was it that ye dis puted among yourselves by the way T But they held their peace : for by the way they had disputed among them selves who should be the greatest.— And he sat down and called the twelve, and saith unto them, if any mar desire to be first, the same shall be last of all, and servant of all. And he took a child, and set him in the midst of them : and when he had tak en him in his arms, he' said unto them, whosoever shall receive one of such children in my name, receiveth me : and whosoever shall receive me, receiveth not me, but him that sent me." iHHi k ix. “He that is least among you, the same shall be greatest,” this was the lesson which our Saviour sought to impress, and to do it effectually “He took a little ehild,” au object not dif ticuit to hud, nor uulumiliar to the disciples, a child that had no maiks of perfections, but which undoubted ly bore the common impress of in timity and frailty which marks the members of a falleu race. It is not said that it was a beautiful child, or a well dressed child of wealthy pa rents, or eveu a child trained aud cultured uudet all gracious influences. It was simply “a little child” that he set before them as their pattern and their example, achild that was taught to be obedieut, to have its owu wish es disregarded, to be subject to its elders and to sacrifice its iucliuatious to the will aud convenience of those around ; a child in whom guile aud malice aud craft and human shrewd ness had not yet taken root; a child uucnltured, unsophisticated, undent ed,—emblem of those whom be had introduced into his family, who were born again, who, leaving earthly am bitious aud pomps behind bad enter ed upon a new life, aud who were henceforth to be actuated by new mo tives, guided by new principles, and iuspired by new energies, as children horn of God and made inheritors of his kingdom. There are those who despise infan cy. Heathendom offers her young as sacrifices, aud casts them into the burning arms of Moloch. Christen dom is not wanting in guilty hatr d of little ones. The very apostles sought to repel the mothers whocame to briug their childreu that they might receive the Saviour’s hlessiug, but Jesus always loved the little ones, and those who are most like him are in deepest sympathy with children. We have seen persons who cast a doubt on the conversiou of childreu or on the prospect of their ultimate salvation. They have said, “these children have formed no character ■/ and we have olten thought as we have marked their conceit and self righteousness, “What a blessed thing it would be if as much could be said of you.” If the characters which men have formed are to be considered, they may well cry for mercy. They may think that with their narrow be liels and their straitlaced precepts they have formed some character which is desirable, but he who sees things as they are, prefers the char acler of a little child. He would take for his building, timber fresh from the forest, rather than these old sticks that have been hewed and not ched aud morticed, and filled so full of nails aud gravel that it is almost us much as they are worth to work them into any proper shape. “A little child !'—the whole of man’s mighty capabilities are embodied there. The old man’s lile is spent; the young man’s life is ofteu wreck ed; the man of mature age has habits which are fixed and purposes which ure often inconsistent with the divine will; but “a little child” yields to his Maker’s plastic hand, and of such little ones “is the kingdom of heaven.” Ho who comforteth the mourners says to each weeping mother in Is rael, “Refrain thy voice from weep ing, aud thine eyes from tears: for thy work shall be rewarded, saith the Lord ; and they shall come again from the land or the enemy. And there is hope in thine end, saith the Lord, that thy children shall come again to their own border.” Jer. xxxi. 15—17. Who can estimate the blessings which shall thns come to those, who, though cut off from the pririleges and dangers of this ealthly life, shall enter the kingdom of our God, and there beneath the kindlier skies of paradise, and amid all the joys and glories of the better land, shall grow under the care aud will of Him who said, “Suffer the little children to come unto me,” and who took them in ins arms aud blessed tuem. However others may question con cerning their relationship to the hea venly Father, one thing is certain, he is the “Father of the father less aud however the aged or the mature may doubt concerning their hope aud destiny ; of the little ones, Christ said, “Of such is the kingdom of heaven.” He who sees that king dom will see the grandest orphan asylum that the universe has ever beheld, and there the Fatherhood ol God shall make make up for the loss of earthly kindred, and iu the joy and gladuess of eternity “these little ones” shall expand in divine loveli ness beneath the smile of their graci ous Creator. “Of such is the kingdom of heaven.” Let us come down from our lofty am bitions; let ns condescend to men of low estate : let us seek to be follow ers of Him who stooped to wash bis own disciples' leet; let us remember that it is enough for the servant to be as bis Lord ; aud that if we would be great, we must first be little. In lowliness and humility we find the path that leads to honors that shall never end. God grant that we maj have wisdom to walk that path. HELP WHERE HELP IS NEEDED, It- is a peculiarity of selfish humani ty to manifest great helpfulness where no help is needed, aud great indifference where the necessity for aid is urgent. Men give gifts to the rich, where only a smile or a word of thanks is counted a sufficient recom pense; but the poor who might be blessed by their abundance, pine un uotiued and unkuown. In Christian labor the same dispo sition is manifested. Here is a little church struggling to hold fastagaiust surrounding odds aud hindrances, and meu pass carelessly by, or per haps contemptuously dole out a pit tance to relieve its need ; while yon der, where wealth aud fashion and luxury abound, they are ready to pour out their hundreds aud thous ands for purposes of show and world ly exaltation. Yonder is a little struggling mis sion; few people are interested iu it; there is work enough for all to do ; but persons sit back and find fault and turn up their noses and hinder rather than help, and say they “can not do anything ;" while perhaps iu that very little gathering more souls are saved, and more actual good is done than in some great establish ment where money is poured out like water, aud where influence and wealth combiued smooth the path and strengthen the hands of those engag ed in labor. By aud by those same persous And some place where things go with a rush; where multitudes are staudiug idle; where there is little to be done aud many to do it, aud they then show great zeal and energy in doing the very tliiugs they could uot and would not do wheu they in positions where their aid was most urgently needed. Agaiu we find one or two persons laboring single-handed to save souls, while people stand by, look on, criti cise, and do nothing; but by aud by some noted evangelist or revivalist puts in an appearance, then money is plenty, help is abundant, and all the idlers iar aud near rush in, until the way of real workers is actually crow ded by persons who having stood idle all the time when their labors were really needed, seem disposed to crowd in where they frequently prove to be a hindrance raUogr tbau a help. If people would Riarn to consult the necessities of Qod's cavse, rather tbau their own personal inclinations, they might be much more useful, aud also greatly increase their own happiness. Some people are on the lookout for “good society," and shape their coarse with reference to that; but if Jesus Christ had been seeking for “good so ciety" he probably never would have come near them; in fact this world would never have seen his face. God’s servants are ambassadors; but no man can be au ambassador until he forsakes his own home and goes into a foreign land, where he may be subjected to many discomforts. He who would really do work for God will be willing to do it where it is needed ; be who is continually wan dering about the vineyard and pick ing ont easy places where lie can la bor, and abandoning the soil which seems hard and sterile, will be likely to effect little in the Master’s cause, and in the end will And that he has accomplished very little for knnself. In serving others we do good to ourselves. The ragged children whom we fish out of the slums of pov erty and distress to-day, in a few brief years may be permitted to take our places; and while they do work lor God they will also cherish in per petual greenness the memories of those who have led them in the ways of life. Help where help is ueeaeu, ana work where there is work to be done. There are plenty of people who would be glad to sing God’s praise in glory —why do they not begin and Bing it here ou earth f They look forward to the time when, they shall be with God’s servants who serve him day and night in his temple, but in this world where service is so much need ed they hardly serve him at all. Said one man to a congregation, ‘‘You « ill sit and sing yourselves ‘away to everlasting bliss,’ but you are not needed in heaven half as much as you are out West on the prairies teaching Sunday School.’’ The grandeur of Christian work is but imperfectly appreciated. Work done for God, done in the strength ol God, done under the aid of the Spirit of God, done wherever it is needed, with unfaltering faith as it regards its ultimate results, and without one shadow of discouragement in the midst of trials and dangers and afflic turns; work, done not in willfulness nor in strife, but in the spirit of Him who did not strive or cry.; constant patient, earnest, persevering labor in the Master’s cause,—this it is that tells for the good of humanity in this world, and which shall at last receive the welcome words, “Well done.” “Go, labor on, spend and be spent, Tby joy to do thy Master’s will; It is the way the Master went, Shall not uis servants tread ii still ?’* RESULTS Of A DREAM. Mrs. M——, a lady of more than or dinary intelligence, lived many years ago iu Petersburg, Va. She was a married woman, and the mother ol lour children at the time of the oc currence of the incident which I now relate. The writer received the story from her own lips before she was call ed away from earth. She died at an advanced age, having adorned her Christian profession by a life of ex emplary piety. Martha, her eldest child, was a beantiful girl, at the time referred to being about fourteen years of age. She was her mother’s idol, thongli her mother was unconscious of the fact. Handsome in person, sweet in disposition, gentle in her manners, and withal devotedly attached to her mother, she occupied a supreme place iu her affections. Jnst as she was verging on womauhood she was takeu ill, and grew lrom bad to worse, until tbe death angel came and re leased the sufferer from the grasp ol disease. The mother was positively inconso lable. Nothing could allay the bit ter anguish of her broken heart. She lost her appetite, refused to take her food, sleep deserted her pillow, and gradually she wasted away almost to a skeleton. She wept until she had no more tears to weep. Her friends exhausted every device to divert her mind from the painful subject. Her pastor prayed, ceuuselled and admon ished iu vain. It seemed she most waste away and die. Iu this state of mind, late one night she fell asleep, with a few stray tear drops on her shrivelled cheek. Her sleep was fitful for awhile, and then she fell into n profound slumber, and sleeping, she dreamed. Suddenly, as she related the vision to me, a bright and beautiful angel, clothed in the habiliments of light, appeared to her, and, iu a sweet and winning voice. tenderly asked : “Would you see Martha 1’’ Instantly she responded : “Yes; abore all things in the uni verse I would see her.” “Then follow me,” said the heaven ly visitant. • She arose and followed her guide without a word of further inquiry, Presently a stately and magnificent edifice greeted her wonderiug and half-bewildered gaze. The door of entrauce was open. She ascended the steps and entered the resounding hall, following closely behind the an gel, not knowing whither he would lead her. Without even castings glance behind, or saying a word, snd denly the angel panned, and with his ethereal finger touched a secret spring. Noiselessly a door swuDg wide open and revealed tbe inmates to her astonished gaze. There was a throng of excited revellers in tbe midst of bacchanalian excesses, flash ed with wine, and presenting a revol ting scene of debauchery and worldly dissipation. The angel pointed his white index finger at tbe most con* spicnons figure in the group, the one who led the dance and was most bois terous in tbe mirth and festive glee, i and then turning bis eye on the mother, said: “There is Martha; behold her.” The mother passionately exclaim ed : “No, uo; that is not Martha 1 1 was raising her for God and for His chnrcb and for heaven. That is not Martha.” “So yon thought,” responded the augel in tenderest accents ; “bat she was your idol. You could deny her nothing That is what she would have been.” The door closed. “Follow me," said the angel. She followed with a palpitating heart. Her mind was filled with anxious and painful thought. The angel paused and again touched a se cret spring, and the door flew open as <fou gulden hinges. Before her enraptured eyes there was displayed a vast multitude of the most, resplen deut forms she hud ever conceived of iu human mould. Brows of lustrous beauty, faces radiant with superoat nral light, voices sweetly modulated, and all enrolled iu spotless white. Not a trace of sorrow was on any face. It was heaven, and the angel, pointing to the brightest and most beautiful of the joyous and happy throng, said, turning his glad eye on the mother: “There is Martha as she is." The dreamer awoke, bnt awoke from that dream iu unutterably ecsta sy—she awoke praising God. And in relating this dream she said to the writer: “Dream though it was, to me it was an apocalypse. I brushed away my tears. My heart was ie iieved of its sorrow, aud I now be lieve, and I have long believed, that Martha’s death was best for her and best for her mother.”—Iilustrafed Christian Weekly. PAINT THE WART. When Cromwell was having his portrait paiutc-d, the artist, tbiukiug to flatter the Protector,omitted paint ing the big wart on his face. “Paint me just as I am,” said Cromwell, “wart and all!" There are a good many painters in the world who use uo brush; but such portraits as they paint! Some omit describing the mental wart ■ they see their friends’ deformity, but they would gladly pass it over. Some, though, see only the wart, and so they devote their time aud skill to painting it, aud they make it as un lovely and hideous a3 possible. Some people, again, paint warts where tlieyr don’t exist, and cover up a face really attractive with imaginary deformi ties. These are they who dwell upon the faults of jfheir friends, and who graciously supply those which are lacking. Paint your friends’ portraits if yon will—paint even the warts ; but paint them no bigger thau they are, while you remember that wbat you fail to see iu your own lace may possibly be seen there by others with startling distinctness. A great deal of talent is lost to the world for the want of a little courage. Every day sends to their graves num bers of obscure men who have only remained in obscurity because their timidity has prevented them from making a first effort, and who, if they only had been induced to begin, would in all probability have gone great lengths in the career of fame. The fact is that, in doing anything in the world worth doing, we must not staud shivering en the bank, thiuk ing ol the cold and danger, but jump iu and scramble through as well as we can. It will not do to be perpe tually calculating risks and adjusting nice chances; it did very well before the Hood, when a mau could consult his friends upon an intended publica tion for a hundred aud fifty years, and live to see its success six or seveu centuries afterward ; but at present a mau waits aud doubts, and cousults bis brothers, and his uucles, and par ticular friends, till one day he finds that he is sixty-five years of age, that be has lost so much time in consult ing first cousins and particular friends that he has no time to follow their advice. There is so little time for over-squeamishuess at present that the opportunity slips away. The very period of life at which men choose to venture, if ever, is so con fined that it is no bad rule to preach up the necessity, in such instances, ol a little violence done to the feelings, and effosts made in defiance of strict and sober calculation.—Sydney Smith j I I arm and Jiresitfy THE WEATHER.' The farmer has te deal with three i great problems, either one of which is intricate enough to baffle hir best I abilities—namely, the soil, plauts.and j the weather. This being the case,the' farmer ought to be a good naturalist, | and we will say that every successfnl i farmer is, in fact, a tolerable natural ist, whether book taoght or not. He has a practical knowledge of the piin ciples, nature, and modes of action of soils, plants, and the weather. This cannot bnt be the case withauy intel ligent man who has passed his life surrounded by and toiling amid these things. No man w ho does not know something of the nature of plants and soils, and the climate that be lives in, can do anything as a farmer. Most farmers get their knowledge of these things entirely from their own observation and experience, and have, therefore, as a general thing quite imperfect if not erroneous ideas of them all. A good many farmers have read the text books on these several subjects, and have a broader, more comprehensive, and more cor rect view of them ; but they have failed to see where their practice aud their reading end, and where they are to be made mutually helpful.— They do not blend the art and the science into one perfect system. A few. it may be do so amalgamate the; two, aud they are those who are at the same lime the best practical and j the best scieutiUc, or if you prefer,; theoretical farmers. The reason why they have not attained perfection is,! that both practice and science are, raj yet, impel feet. The two have not j been studied in connection long! enough. No mere scientist can give us a perfect system of farming, and no practical farmer can do it without j the science ; but ot the two, we bo-j lieve that the chances are in l’avor of; the intelligent practical man. Vv e j are sure that a perfect system of far-! tiling, if such a work is ever written, ■ must come from a farmer himself. It i cannot be otherwise. Here is hope aud a chance for some toiler uow at j the plow handles. Of the three groat subjects above 1 named that of the weather must re- j eeive from cultivators of the soil far t more attention than uow. The farmer i may modify his climate to some ex tent, aud he must study well its chan ges in order to be able to forecast aud provide for them iu time. A great deal may be learned by close observa tion and a caieful perusal oftbe text books ou meteorology. Tt is well i kuown that the direction of the wind j determines the weather—this topic! ought therefore, to receive cousidera-; ble attention and be stndied in all its j bearings by the farmer. Then the amount of moisture in the air, rain fall, temperalnre of the ground, &c., will claim investigation. The cause of early and late frosts and how to hinder them, should be well under stood by every one who cultivates tender plains. The distribution of heat and of raiufail would determine when to plant any given crop. A thousand benefits would come to the. farmer if lie knew the laws that con-; trol the weather, aud would turn his i knowledge to account iu the cultiva-1 tiou of crops. Let our farmers seek to arrive at this. Let them get one or two good books on meteorology,; aud use them in the every day obser-1 ration of tbe weather.—Rural Mes-, tender. VERMIN RIDDANCE. Half an ounce of soap boiled in a pint of water, and put on with a brush while boiliug hot, infallibly de stroys the bugs and their eggs. Flies are driven out of a room by hanging up a bunch of plantain or fleawort plant, after it has been dipped in milk. Bats and mice speedily disap pear by mixing equal quantities of stroug cheese and powdered squills ; they devour this mixture with great greediness, while it is innocuous to man. House ants ravenously devonr the kernels of walnuts, and shellbarks or hickory nuts. Crack some of these, and plate them on a plate near the infested places, and when the plate is full of the ants, throw the contents in the fire. Cockroaches, as well as ants, are driven away by strewiug elderberry leaves on the shelves and other places frequented by these troublesome insects. The white of an egg, into which a piece of alum about the size of a wal nut has been stewed until it forms a jelly, is a capital remedy for sprains. It should be laid over the sprain upon a piece of lint, aud be changed as often as it becomes dry. EXPERIMENTS SUGGESTED. Intelligent cultivators may acquire much valuable information for $bcm "elves, as well as for others, by/ insti tuting a few inquiries in esperiinc’ir/ iug: which will not require much time, and which will be attended with much interest. Among the points for in quiry we may name the following : 1. The removal of the blossoms of youngl'rnit on apple? trees for chang ing the bearing year, which may be rapidly performed with a pair of sheep-shears. This experiment is specially recommended for young trees, or those which have not borne many years, as promising to be more permanent in its resalts than old trees. 2. Try the effects of keeping the soil clean and mellow tor several feet on "each side of neely transplanted trees, aud compare the annual growth on such trees with others where the soil is permitted to become hard, or to be covered with weeds aud grass. Also, ascei tain the relative advanta ges of a mellow and u mulched sur face, as indicated by the length of grow th. These experiments may be tried on peach and other trees, as well as on apples. 3. If yon have any trees which you do not value, try linseed oil, pe troieum, kerosene, &c., on the bark, and ascertain if the application will kill them. Try this treatment on large and smail tree;. apples, peach and pear. Mix the e ls with water, in other experiments, be foie applying. The knowledge thus acquired may be of much use in treating for diseases and insects. T Try the effect of cutting the toots of orchard trees while growing, and while iu a dormant state, for de termining what iuflue ce plowing aud tearing the roots ms have on the growth of the trees, performing the experiment on a few trees of little vniue. o. Piant seeds of . iff'erent kinds, at different measured depths, mark ing each accurately, :o asceitaiu at w hat depth they grow best, and pro duce the best plauts. C. Try the effects of thiuiiiug the young frnu on peach, apple and pear trees, leaving alternate trees with the fruit uuthiuned. The apples should not be nearer than tiiree times the diameter of the full-grown fruit; the peaches should be at least six inch er apart; and three fourths of the fruit of weil-loaded pear trees should be taken off. Observe if this treat ment diminishes in any degree the amount of the crop ; aud also how much the quality of the fruit is im proved.—Country Gentleman. Chafing Breasts of Horses.— The common practice of using pads or sheepskins under the collar is ob jectionable, especially in warm weather, because it ac cumulates heat and makes the breast tender. A better way is to take a piece of thick and smooth leather, cot it out just the size of the collar or a little wider, and let it lie flat on the neck and shoulders of the horse. This will be still aud smooth on the horse's neck, while the collar itself moves about, and so it will prevent chafing. In additisn to this, let the breasts of working horses be w ashed off every night with clean water. Bleeding at the nose, it is said, may be stopped.by a vigorous motion of the jaws, as if iu the act of masti cation. In the case of a small child, give it something to chew on, aud tell it to chew hard. This simple remedy has never been known to tail, even iu very severe cases. Ingrowing Nails.—'Take a little tallow amt put it inio a spoon aud heat it over the lamp antilit becomes very hot; then put it; on the sore or granulation. The ellect will be al most magical. The operatiou causes very little pain if the tallow is per fectly heated. Cleaning Flat Iuons.—Salt will make your rasty flat irons as clean as glass. Tie a lump of beeswax iu a rag kept for that purpose. When the irons are hot, rub them first with the wax rag, and then sc.mr with a paper or cloth sprinkled with salt. Moths.—A piece of paper or linen moistened with turpentine and pat into the wardrobe or drawers for a single day at a time: two or three times a year, is a preventive against moths. Sty on the Bye.--Cut a fig once or twice in two, put it in a cup, pour boiling water ou it, let stand till cool, not cold; then bathe the eye with the water quite frequently. It la sure. -- Subscribe for the Sun.

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