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(The sons he had to early graves were gone, I had my comforts, and a growing trade
And girls were burdens to the mind of John.) Gave greater pleasure than a fortune made ;
" Had I a boy, he would our name sustain, And as I more possess'd and reason's more,
That now to nothing must return again ;

I lost those comforts I enjoy'd before,
But what are all my profits, credit, trade, When reverend guides I saw my table round,
And parish honours ?-folly and parade." And in my guardian guest my safety found :

Thus Dighton thought, and in his looks appear'a Now sick and sad, no appetite, no ease,
Sadness increased by much he saw and heard : Nor pleasure have I, nor a wish to please ;
The brethren often at the shop would stay, Nor views, nor hopes, nor plans, nor taste have I,
And make their comments ere they walk'd away: Yet sick of life, have no desire to die.”
They mark'd the window, fill'd in every pane He said, and died ; his trade, his name is gone,
With lawless prints of reputations slain ;

And all that once gave consequence to John. Distorted forms of men with honours graced, Unhappy Dighton! had he found a friend, And our chief rulers in derision placed :

When conscience told him it was time to mend! Amazed they stood, remembering well the days A friend discreet, considerate, kind, sincere, When to be humble was their brother's praise, Who would have shown the grounds of hope and When at the dwelling of their friend they stopp'd fear; To drop a word, or to receive it dropp'd ; And proved that spirits, whether high or low, Where they beheld the prints of men renown'd, No certain tokens of man's safety show ; And far-famed preachers pasted all around; Had reason ruled him in her proper place, (Such mouths! eyes! hair! so prim! so fierce ! so And virtue led him while he lean'd on grace; sleek!

Had he while zealous been discreet and pure, They look d as speaking what is wo to speak :) His knowledge humble, and his hope secure ;On these the passing brethren loved to dwell- These guides had placed him on the solid rock, How long they spake! how strongly! warmly! Where faith had rested, nor received a shock; well!

But his, alas! was placed upon the sand,
What power had each to dive in mysteries deep, Where long it stood not, and where none can stand.
To warm the cold, to make the harden'd weep;
To lure, to fright, to soothe, to awe the soul,
And listening flocks to lead and to control!
But now discoursing, as they linger'd near,

They templed John (whom they accused) to hear
Their weighty charge—“And can the lost one feel,

As in the time of duty, love, and zeal;

A brother noble, When all were summon’d at the rising sun,

Whose nature is so far from doing harms, And he was ready with his friends to run;

That he suspects none; on whose foolish konesty When he, partaking with a chosen few,

My practice may ride easy. Felt the great change, sensation rich and new ?

King Lear, act i. sc. 2 No! all is lost, her favours Fortune shower'd

He lets me feed with hinds, Upon the man, and he is overpower'd;

Bars me the place of brother.

As You Like It, act i. sc. 1. The world has won him with its tempting store Of needless wealth, and that has made him poor :

'Twas I, but 'tis not I: I do not shame

To tell you what I was, being what I am. Success undoes him, he has risen to fall,

Ib. act iv. sc. 3. Has gain'd a fortune, and has lost his all; Gone back from Sion, he will find his age

Than old George Fletcher, on the British coast, Loath to commence a second pilgrimage ; Dwelt not a seaman who had more to boast ; He has retreated from the chosen track ;

Kind, simple, and sincere-he seldom spoke, And now must ever bear the burden on his back.” But sometimes sang and choruss’d,“ Hearts of Oak;"

Hurt by such censure, John began to find Ir dangers steady, with his lot content, Fresh revolutions working in his mind;

His days in labour and in love were spent. He sought for comfort in his books, but read He left a son so like him, that the old Without a plan or method in his head;

With joy exclaim'd, “ 'tis Fletcher we behold ;" What once amused, now rather made him sad, But to his brother when the kinsmen came, What should inform, increased the doubts he had ; And view'd his form, they grudged the father's Shame would not let him seek at church a guide, And from his meeting he was held by pride ; George was a bold, intrepid, careless lad, His wise derided fears she never felt,

With just the failings that his father had; And passing brethren daily censures dealt; Isaac was weak, attentive, slow, exact, Hope for a son was now for ever past,

With just the virtues that his father lack'd. Ile was the first John Dighton, and the last; George lived at sea; upon the land a guestIlis stomach fail'd, his case the doctor knew, He sought for recreation, not for rest; But said, “ He still might hold a year or two." While, far unlike, his brother's feebler form “ No more!” he said, “ but why should I complain? Shrank from the cold, and shudder'd at the storm; A life of doubt must be a life of pain :

Still with the seaman's to connect his trade, Could I be sure-but why should I despair? The boy was bound where blocks and ropes were I'm sure my conduct has been just and fair ;

made. In youth indeed I had a wicked will,

George, strong and sturdy, had a tender mind, **** I repented, and have sorrow still :

And was to Isaac pitiful and kind;



A very father, till his art was gain'd,

And hear me, brother, whether pay or prize, And then a friend unwearied he remain'd :

One-half to thee I give and I devise ; He saw bis brother was of spirit low,

For thou hast oft occasion for the aid His temper peevish, and his motions slow; of learn'd physicians, and they will be paid : Not fit to bustle in a world, or make

Their wives and children men support, at sea, Friends to his fortune for his merit's sake :

And thou, my lad, art wife and child to me: But the kind sailor could not boast the art

Farewell - I go where hope and honour call, Of looking deeply in the human heart;

Nor does it follow that who fights must fall." Else had he seen that this weak brother knew Isaac here made a poor atteinpt to speak, What men to court, what objects to pursue ; And a huge tear moved slowly down his cheek; That he to distant gain the way discern'd, Like Pluto's iron drop, hard sign of grace, And none so crooked but his genius learn'd. It slowly roll'd upon the rueful face,

Isaac was poor, and this the brother felt; Forced by the striving will alone its way to trace. He hired a house, and there the landsman dwelt; Years fled-war lasted-George at sea remain'd, Wrought at his trade, and had an easy home, While the slow landsman still his profits gain'd : For there would George with cash and comforts An humble place was vacant; he besought come ;

His patron's interest, and the oflice caught; And when they parted, Isaac look'd around, For still the virgin was his faithful friend, Where other friends and helpers might be found. And one so sober could with truth commend,

He wish'd for some purt-place, and one might fall, Who of his own defects most humbly thonghi, He wisely thought, if he should try for all; And their advice with zeal and reverence sought : He had a vote-and, were it well applied,

Whom thus the mistress praised, the maid approved, Might have its worth—and he had views beside ; And her he wedded whom he wisely loved. Old Burgess Steel was able to promote

No more he needs assistance-but, alas ! An humble man who served him with a vote; He fears the money will for liquor pass; For Isaac felt not what some tempers feel,

Or that the seaman might to flatterers lend, But bow'd and bent the neck to Burgess Steel; Or give support to some pretended friend : And great attention to a lady gave,

Sull he must write-he wrote, and he confess'd His ancient friend, a maiden spare and grave: Thai, till absolved, he should be sore distress'd; One whom the visage long and look demure But one so friendly would, he thought, forgive Of Isaac pleased-he seem'd sedate and pure; The hasty deed-heaven knew how he should live; And his sufi heart conceived a gentle flame

But you," he added, " as a man of sense, For her who waited on this virtuous dame : Ilave well consider'd danger and expense : Not an outrageous love, a scorching fire,

I ran, alas ! into the fatal snare, But friendly liking and chastised desire;

And now for trouble must my mind prepare ; And thus he waited, patient in delay,

And how, with children, I shall pick my way, In present favour and in fortune's way.

Through a hard world, is more than I can say : George then was coasting-war was yet delay'd, Then change not, brother, your more happy state, And what he gain'd was to his brother paid ; Or on the hazard long deliberate.” Nor ask'd the seaman what he saved or spent : George answer'd gravely, “ It is right and fit, But took his grog, wrought hard, and was In all our crosses, humbly to submit: content;

Your apprehensions are unwise, unjust ; Till war awaked the land, and George began Forbear repining, and expel distrust.” To think what part became a useful man:

He added, “ Marriage was the joy of life," “ Press'd, I must go ; why then, 'tis better far And gave his service to his brother's wife; At once to enter like a British tar,

Then vow'd to bear in all expense a part, Than a brave captain and the foe to shun,

And thus concluded, “ Have a cheerful heart." As if I fear'd the music of a gun."

Had the glad Isaac been his brother's guide, “Go not !” said Isaac_" You shall wear disguise.” In these same terms the seaman had replied ; “ What!" said the seaman, clothe myself with At such reproofs the crafty landsman smiled, lies ?"

And softly said, " This creature is a child." "0! but there's danger.”_" Danger in the fleet? Twice had the gallant ship a capture made, You cannot mean, good brother, of defeat; And when in port the happy crew were paid, And other dangers I at land must share-

Home went the sailor, with his pocket stored, So now adieu ! and trust a brother's care." Ease to enjoy, and pleasure to afford ;

Isaac awhile demurr'd-but, in his heart, His time was short, joy shone in every face,
So might he share, he was disposed to part: Isaac half fainted in the fond embrace :
The better mind will sometimes feel the pain

The wife resolved her honour'd guest to please, Of benefactions-favour is a chain ;

The children clung upon their uncle's knees ; But they the feeling scorn, and what they wish The grog went round, the neighbours drank his disdain ;

health, While beings form'd in coarser mould will hate And George exclaim'd,“Ah! what to this is wealth ? The helping hand they ought to venerate ; Better," said he,“ to bear a loving heart, No wonder George should in this cause prevail, Than roll in riches—but we now must part!" With one contending who was glad to fail :

All yet is still- but hark! the winds o'ersweep " Isaac, farewell! do wipe that doleful eye; The rising waves, and howl upon the deep; Crying we came, and groaning we may die. Ships late becalm'd on mountain-billows rideLet us do something 'twixt the groan and cry: So life is threaten'd, and so man is tried.




Ill were the tidings that arrived from sea, That Isaac seem'd concern'd by his distress
The worthy George must now a cripple be; Gave to his injured feelings some redress;
His leg was lopp'd; and though his heart was sound, But none he found disposed to lend an ear
Though his brave captain was with glory crown'd, To stories, all were once intent to hear :
Yet much it vex'd him to repose on shore, Except his nephew, seated on his knee,
An idle log, and be of use no more :

He found no creature cared about the sea;
True, he was sure that Isaac would receive But George indeed—for George they callid the
All of his brother that the foe might leave;

boy, To whom the seaman his design had sent,

When his gond uncle was their boast and joyEre from the port the wounded hero went : Would listen long, and would contend with sleep, His wealth and expectations told, he "knew To hear the woes and wonders of the deep; Wherein they fail'd, what Isaac's love would do.; Till the fond mother cried—“That man will That he the grog and cabin would supply,

teach Where George at anchor during life would lie.” The foolish boy his loud and boisterous speech." The landsman read—and, reading, grew dis. So judged the father-and the boy was taught tress'd :

To shun the uncle, whom his love had sought. · Could he resolve t'admit so poor a guest ?

The mask of kindness now but seldom worn, Better at Greenwich might the sailor stay, George fell each evil harder to be borne ; Unless his purse could for his comforts pay ;" And cried, (vexation growing day by day,) So Isaac judged, and to his wife appeal’d,

“Ah! broiher Isaac !- Whai! I'm in the way!" But yet acknowledged it was best to yield: “No! on my credit, look ye, No! but I “ Perhaps his pension, with what sums remain Am fond of peace, and my repose would buy Due or unsquander'd, may the man maintain ; On any terms-in short, we must comply : Refuse we must not."-With a heavy sigh My spouse hau money-she must have her willThe lady heard, and made her kind reply : Ah! brother-marriage is a bitter pill." “ Nor would I wish it, Isaac, were we sure

George tried the lady—“ Sister, I offend." How long his crazy building will endure; “ Me?" she replied—“O no!—you may depend Like an old house, that every day appears On my regard - but watch your brother's way, About to fall-he may be propp'd for years ; Whom I, like you, must study and obey.” For a few months, indeed, we might comply, “Ah!" thought the seaman, “what a head was But these old batter'd fellows never die."

mine, The hand of Isaac, George on entering took, That easy birth at Greenwich to resign! With love and resignation in his look ;

I'll to the parish"- --but a little pride, Declared his comfort in the fortune past,

And some affection, put the thought aside. And joy to find his anchor safely cast;

Now gross neglect and open scorn he bore “ Call then my nephews, let the grog be brought, In silent sorrow-but he felt the more: And I will teli them how the ship was fought." The odious pipe he to the kitchen took,

Alas! our simple seaman should have known, Or strove to profit by some pious book. That all the care, the kindness, he had shown, When the mind stoops to this degraded state, Were from his brother's heart, if not his memory, New griefs will darken the dependant's fate; flown :

Brother!" said Isaac, “ you will sure excuse All swept away to be perceived no more,

The little freedom I'm compellid to use : Like idle structures on the sandy shore ;

My wife's relations—(curse the haughty crew)The chance amusement of the playful boy, Affect such niceness, and such dread of you: That the rude billows in their rage destroy. You speak so loud--and they have natures softPoor George confess'd, though loath the truth to Brother--I wish-do go upon the loft !" find,

Poor George obey'd, and to the garret fled, Slight was his knowledge of a brother's mind : Where not a being saw the tears he shed : The vulgar pipe was to the wise offence,

But more was yet required, for guests were come, The frequent grog to Isaac an expense ;

Who could not dine if he disgraced the room.
Would friends like hers, she question’d, “ choose to It shock'd his spirit to be esteem'd unfit

With an own brother and his wife to sit ;
Where clouds of poison'd fume defiled a room? He grew rebellious at the vestry spoke
This could their lady friend, and Burgess Steel, For weekly aid--they hcard it as a joke :
(Teased with his worship’s asthma,) bear to feel ? So kind a brother, and so wealthy--you
Could they associate or converse with him- Apply to us --No! this will never do :
A loud rough suilor with a timber limb ?"

Good neighbour Fletcher," said the overseer, Cold as he grew, still Isaac strove to show, “We are engaged-you can have nothing here!" By well-feign'd care, that cold he could not grow; George mutter'd something in despairing tone, And when he saw his brother look distress'd, Then sought his loft, to think and grieve alone ; He strove some petty comforts to suggest;

Neglected, slighted, restless on his bed, On his wife solely their negleot to lay,

With heart half broken, and with scraps ill fed ; And then t' excuse it, is a woman's way;

Yet was he pleased, that hours for play design'd He too was chidden when her rules he broke, Were given to ease his ever-troubled mind; And then she sickend at the scent of smoke. The child still listen'd with increasing joy, George, though in doubt, was still consoled 10 And he was soothed by the attentive boy. find

At length he sicken'd, and this dureous child This brother wishing to be reckon'd kind:

Watch'd o'er his sickness, and his pains beguiled ;



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The mother bade him from the loft refrain, George, are you dumb ? do learn to know your But, though with caution, yet he went again;

friends, And now his tales the sailor feebly told,

And think a while on whom your bread depends : His heart was heavy, and his limbs were cold : What! not a word ? be thankful I am coolThe tender boy came often to entreat

But, sir, beware, no longer play the fool; His good kind friend would of his presents eat ; Come! brother, come! what is that you seek Purloin'd or purchased, for he saw, with shame, By this rebellion ?-Speak, you villain, speak! The food untouch'd that to his uncle came; Weeping! I warrant-sorrow makes you dumb: Who, sick in body and in mind, received

I'll ope your mouth, impostor! if I come : The boy's indulgence, gratified and grieved. Let me approach-I'll shake you from the bed, “ Uncle will die!" said George—the piteous Yon stubborn dog — God ! my brother's dead!" wife

Timid was Isaac, and in all the past Exclaim'd, “She saw no value in his life ; He felt a purpose to be kind at last ; But sick or well, to my commands attend,

Nor did he mean his brother to depart, And go no more to your complaining friend."

Till he had shown this kindness of his heart: The boy was vex'd ; he felt his heart reprove But day by day he put the cause aside, The stern decree.—What! punish'd for his love! Induced by avarice, peevisliness, or pride. No! he would go, but softly to the room,

But now awaken’d, from this fatal time Stealing in silence-for he knew his doom. His conscience Isaac felt, and found his crime : Once in a week the father came to say,

He raised to George a monumental stone, “ George, are you ill ?”—and hurried him away; And there retired to sigh and think alone ; Yet to his wife would on their duties dwell, An ague seized him, he grew pale, and shookAnd often cry, “ Do use my brother well :" " So,” said his son," would my poor unele look.".. And something kind, no question, Isaac meant, And so, my child, shall I like him expire."Who took vast credit for the vague intent. “No! you have physic and a cheerful fire.”— But truly kind, the gentle boy essay'd

Unhappy sinner! yes, I'm well supplied To cheer his uncle, firm, although afraid ;

With every comfort my cold heart denied.” But now the father caught him at the door,

He view'd his brother now, but not as one And, swearing-yes, the man in office swore,

Who vex'd his wife by fondness for her son ; And cried, “ Away! How! brother, I'm surprised, Not as with wooden limb, and seaman's tale, That one so old can be so ill advised :

The odious pipe, vile grog, or humbler ale : Let him not dare to visit you again,

He now the worth and grief alone can view Your cursed stories will disturb his brain;

Of one so mild, so generous, and so true; Is it not vile to court a foolish boy,

• The frank, kind brother, with such open heart, Your own absurd narrations to enjoy ?

And I to break it--'was a dernon's part!" What! sullen-ha! George Fletcher! you shall So Isaac now, as led by conscience, feels, see,

Nor his unkindness palliates or conceals.
Proud as you are, your bread depends on me!" * This is your folly,” said his heartless, wife.

He spoke, and, frowning, to his dinner went, " Alas! my folly cost my brother's life ;
Then cool'd and felt some qualms of discontent ; It suffer'd him to languish and decay,
And thought on times when he compellid his son My gen:le brother, whom I could not pay,
To hear these stories, nay, 10 beg for one :

And therefore lest to pine, and fret his lise away."
But the wife's wrath o'ercame the brother's pain, He takes his son, and bids the boy unfold
And shame was felt, and conscience rose in vain. All the good uncle of his feelings told,

George yet stole up, he saw his uncle lie All he lamented—and the ready tear Sick on the bed, and heard his heavy sigh: Falls as he listens, soothed, and grieved to hear. So he resolved, before he went to rest,

“ Did he not curse me, child ?"_"He never To comfort one so dear and so distress'd;

cursed, Then watch'd his time, but with a childlike art, But could not breathe, and said his heart would Betray'd a something treasured at his heart :

burst."Th' observant wise remark’d, “ The boy is · And so will mine."- '_“Then, father, you must grown

pray ; So like your brother, that he seems his own ; My uncle said it took his pains away.” So close and sullen ! and I still suspect

Repeating thus his sorrows, Isaac shows They often meet-do watch them and detect." That he, repenting, feels the debt he owes, George now remark'd that all was still at | And from this source alone his every comfort flows. night,

He takes no joy in office, honours, gain; And hastend up with terror and delight; They make him humble, nay, they give him pain;

Uncle !" he cried, and softly tapp'd the door; "These from my heart,” he cries, “all feeling " Do let me in"-but he could add no more ;

The careful father caught him in the fact, They made me cold to nature, dead to love:”
And cried,—“ You serpent! is it thus you act ? He takes no joy in home, but sighing, sees
Back to your mother!"—and with hasty blow, A son in sorrow, and a wife at ease:
He sent th' indignant boy lo grieve below; He takes no joy in office-see him now,
Then at the door an angry speech began-

And Burgess Steel has but a passing bow;
" Is this your conduct l-is it thus you plan ? Of one sad train of gloomy thoughts possessid,
Seduce my child, and make my house a scene He takes no joy in friends, in food, in rest-
Of vile dispute-What is it that you mean ?- Dark are the evil days, and void of peace the best,

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As thus he lives, if living be to sigh,

Yes," he replied, “ it calls for pains and care ; And from all comforts of the world to fly,

But I must bear it.”—“Sir, you can not bear; Without a hope in life-without a wish to die. Your son is weak, and asks a mother's eye."

“ That, my kind friend, a father's may supply." “Such growing griefs your very soul will tease.

To grieve another would not give me ease-

I have a mother”-“ She, poor ancient soul !
Can she the spirits of the young control ?
Can she thy peace promote, partake thy care,

Procure thy comforts, and thy sorrows share ?
Like one well studied in a sad ostent,

Age is itself impatient, uncontrolld.”To please his grandam.

But wives like mothers must at length be old.". Merchant of Venice, act ii. sc. 2.

Thou hast shrewd servants—they are evils And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel

sore." And shining morning face, creeping like snail, Unwillingly to school.

“ Yet a shrewd mistress might afflict me more." As You Like It, act ii. sc. 7. Wilt thou not be a weary wailing man 1"He is a better scholar than I thought he was

“ Alas! and I must bear it as I can." He has a good sprag memory.

Resisted thus, the widow soon withdrew,
Merry Wives of Windsor, act iv. sc. 1. That in his pride the hero might pursue ;
One that feeds

And off his wonted guard, in some retreat,
On objects, arts, and imitations,

Find from a foe prepared entire defeat: Which out of use, and staled by other men,

But he was prudent, for he knew in flight Begin his fashion.

Julius Casar, act iv. sc. 1. These Parthian warriors turn again and fight : 0! torture me no more--I will confess.

He but at freedom, not at glory aim'd,
Henry VI. Part 2. act ii. sc. 3. And only safety by his caution claim'd.

Thus, when a great and powerful state decrees,
An honest man was Farmer Jones, and true, Upon a small one, in its love, to seize-
He did by all as all by him should do ;

It vows in kindness to protect, defend, Grave, cautious, careful, fond of gain was he, And be the fond ally, the faithful friend ; Yet famed for rustic hospitality :

It therefore wills that humbler state 10 place Left with his children in a widow'd state,

Its hopes of safety in a fond embrace ; The quiet man submitted to his fate;

Then must that humbler state its wisdom prove, Though prudent matrons waited for his call, By kind rejection of such pressing love ; With cool forbearance he avoided all ;

Must dread such dangerous friendship to comThough each profess'd a pure maternal joy,

mence, By kind attention to his feeble boy :

And stand collected in its own desence :And though a friendly widow knew no rest, Our farmer thus the proffer'd kindness fled, Whilst neighbour Jones was lonely and distress'd: And shunn'd the love that into bondage led. Nay, though the maidens spoke in tender tone The widow failing, fresh besiegers came, Their hearts' concern to see him left alone- To share the fate of this retiring dame : Jones still persisted in that cheerless life,

And each foresaw a thousand ills attend As if 'twere sin to take a second wife.

The man that fied from so discreet a friend ; O! 'tis a precious thing, when wives are dead, And pray'd, kind soul! that no event might make To find such numbers who will serve instead : The harden'd heart of Farmer Jones to ache. And in whatever state a man be thrown,

But he still govern'd with resistless hand, "Tis that precisely they would wish their own; And where he could not guide, he would command : Left the departed infants-then their joy

With steady view in course direct he steer’d, Is to sustain each lovely girl and boy :

And his fair daughters loved him, though they Whatever calling his, whatever trade,

feard ; To that their chief attention has been paid ; Each had her school, and, as his wealth was known, His happy taste in all things they approve, Each had in time a household of her own. His friends they honour, and his food they love; The boy indeed was, at the grandam's side, His wish for order, prudence in affairs,

Humour'd and train'd, her trouble and her pride: And equal temper, (thank their stars !) are theirs; Companions dear, with speech and spirits mild, In fact, it seem’d to be a thing decreed,

The childish widow and the vapourish child; And fix'd as fate, that marriage must succeed ; This nature prompts; minds uninform’d and weak, Yet some like Jones, with stubborn hearts and hard, in such alliance ease and comfort scek; Can hear such claims, and show them no regard. Push'd by the levity of youth aside,

Soon as our farmer, like a general, found The cares of man, his humour, or his pride, By what strong foes he was encompass'd round - They feel, in their defenceless state, allied : Engage he dared not, and he could not fly, The child is pleased to meet regard from age, But saw his hope in gentle parley lie;

The old are pleased e'en children to engage ; With looks of kindness then, and trembling heart, And all their wisdom, scorn'd by proud mankind, fle inet the foe, and art opposed to art.

They love to pour into the ductile mind;
Now spoke that foe insidious-gentle tones, By its own weakness into error led,
And gentle looks, assumed for Farmer Jones : And by fond age with prejudices fed.
“ Three girls,” the widow cried, " a lively three The father, thankful for the good he had,
To govern well-indeed it cannot be."--- Yet saw with pain a whining, timid ladi

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