: .Jn-F— * him five sovereigns. . Y , ,., _w. CLARK Russ-ELL. —/———— A MARRIAGE‘ AT. SEA. , o < three men went aboard the bark, taking their clothes with; ’em; but when I told Bobby to go too, ‘ No,’ said he, ‘ I’ll stop and help ya to pump, sir.’ There’s the making of a proper English sailor, Mr. Barclay, in that there boy,” he ex~ claimed, casting his eyes at the lad, who had again addressed himself to the pump. _ ' “And here you’ve been all day?” sald “All day, sir, and all night too, and a dirty time it’s bin.” . - “ Waiting for something to give you a tow, with a long black night at hand?” “ Mr. Barclay,” said he, “ I told ye I should stick to that there little dandy; and I wouldn’t break my word for no man.” “ You shan’t be disappointed,” said Captain Verrion, bestowing on Caudel a hearty nod of approval, this time untinc- tured by condescension. “Give us the end of your tow-rope, and we’ll drag the dandy home for ye.” “ Cap'n, I thank ’ee,” said Caudel. “ You and the boy are pretty nigh worn out, I allow,” exclaimedCaptain Verrion. “ I’ll put a couple of men aboard the Spitfire. How often ’ does she want pumping?” “ ’Bout every half-hour.” “You stay here,” said Captain Verrion, looking with something of commisera- tion at Caudel, who, the longer one sur- veyed him, the more soaked, ashen, and shipwrecked one found him. “ I,ll send for the boy, and you can both dry your- selves and get a good long spell of rest.” He left us to give the necessary orders to his men, and whilst the steamer launched her own boat, I stood talking with Gandel, telling him of our adven- tures aboard the Carthusian, of our mar ‘ riage and so forth. I had got into the shelter of the com- panion whilst I talked, and Grace, hear- ing my voice, called to me to tell her why the steamer had stopped, and if there was anything wrong. “ Come here, "my darling,” said I. She approached and stood at the foot of the steps. “We have fallen in with the Spitfire, Grace, and here is Caudel." She uttered an exclamation of aston- ishment. He directed his oyster-like eyes into the comparative gloom, and then, catching sight of her, knuckled his forehead, and exclaimed, “Bless your sweet face! And I am glad indeed, mum, to meet you and find you both Well and going home likewise.” She came up the steps to give him her hand, and I saw the old sailor’s face working as he bent over it. The steamer lnadea short job of the Spitfire; but a very little manoeuvring with the propeller was needful, a line connected the two vessels, the yacht’s boat returned with the boy Bobby, leav- ing three of the steamer’s crew in the dandy, the engine-room bell sounded. immediately was felt the thrilling of the engines in motion, and presently the Mermaid was rippling through it once more, with the poor little dismasted Spit- fire dead in her write. I sent for the boy, and praised him warmly for his manly behavior in sticking to Caudel. Captain Verrion then told them both to go below and get some hot tea, and put on some dry clothing, belonging to them, that had been brought from the dandy. “I’m thinking, sir,” said he, when Caudel and the other had left, “that I can't do better than run you into Mount’s Bay. I never was at Penzance, . but I'believe there’s'a bit 'of a harbor there, and no doubtarepairing shipway, and I understand that Penzance was your destination all along.” I assured him he would be adding im- measurably to his kindness by doing as he proposed; “ but as to the Spitfire,” I continued. “I shdn’t spend‘a farthing upon her. My intention is to sell her, and divide what she will fetch among those who have preserved her. Some time about two o’clock on the afternoon of Monday, the Mermaid, with the Spitfire in tow, was steaming into Mount’s Bay. I stood with Grace on my arm, looking. The land seemed. as novel and refreshing to our sight as though we had kept the sea for weeks and weeks. A few smacks from Newlyn, were putting to- sea, and the whole picture their way was rich with the dyes of their canvas. The steamer was brought to a stand when she was yet some distance from Penzance harbor, but long before this we had been made out from the shore, and several boats were approaching to inquire what was wrong and to offer such help as the state of the Spitfire suggested. Caudel and Captain Verrion came to us where we were standing, and the former said,— “I’m going aboard the dandy, now, sir. I’ll see her snug, and will then take your honors commands.” “Our address will be my cousin’s home, which is some little distance from Penzance,” I answered: “here it is.” And I pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled the address upon it. “You’ll be Without anything in your pocket, I dare say,” I continued,phanding "See to the boy, Caudel, and if he wants to go heme you must learn where he lives, for I mean to sell that yacht there, and there’ll be money to go to him. And so farewell for the present,” said I, shaking the honest fellow heartily by the hand. He saluted Grace, and went over the side, followed by Bobby Allett, and both of them were presently aboard the little Spitfire. “ There are boats coming,” exclaimed Captain Verrion, “which will tow your dandy into Penzance harbor, sir. Will you go ashore in one of them, or shall I have one of the yacht’s lowered for you?" ‘ Thanking him heartily, I replied that one of the Penzance boats would do very well, and then, looking into my pocket- book and finding that I had no more money about me than I should need, I ‘ entered the cabin, sent the sailor attend- ant for some ink, and, writing a couple of checks, asked Captain Verrion to accept one for himself and to distribute the proceeds of the other among his crew. .He was very reluctant to take the money, but I got him to put the checks into' his pocket at last, and, several boats having by this time come along- side, I shook the worthy man by the hand, thanked him again and again for his treatment of us, and went with Grace dowu theV‘little gangway-ladder into the boat. - - On landing, we proceeded to the Queen’s Hotel, where I ordered dinner, and then'wrote 'a letter to. my cousin, asking him and his, wife to come to us as speedily as possible, adding that we had' been very nearly shipwrecked and had met with some strange adventures, the narrative of which, if attempted, must fill a very considerable" bundle of manu- ' script. . This done, I‘told the waiter to procure me a mounted messenger, and within three-quarters ofan hour of .our . arrival at Penzance my letter was on its way at a hard gailon to the little straw. :-.--.—. .1v:1;.-—i- r guns village or —, of which Frank Howe was vicar. , Time passed, and Iwas beginning to fear that some “engagement prevented HOWe hand his wife from ceming over to us, when, hearing a, noise of wheels] stepped to the window, and saw my cou- sin assisting a lady out of a Smart little pony-carriage. ' ” “Here they are I" Grace. - There was a pause ; my darling looked about with terrified eyes, and I believe she would have rushed from the‘iroom but for the apprehension of running into the arms of the visitors as they ascended the staircase. A waiter opened the door, and in stepped Mr. and Mrs. Frank Howe. My cousin and I eagerly shook hands, but nothing could be said or done until the ladies were introduced. I had never before met Mrs. Howe, and found her a fair-haired, pretty woman of some eight-and-twenty years, dressed some- what “ dowdily,” to use the ladies’ word, but her countenance so beamed with cheerfulness and good nature that it was only needful to look at her to like her. Frank, on the other hand, was a tall, well-built man of some three-and- thirty, with small side-whiskers, deep- set eyes, a large nose, and teeth so white and regular that it Was a pleasure to,see him smile. He held Grace's hand in both of his and seemed to dwell with enjoyment upon her beauty as he ad- dressed her in some warm-hearted sen- tences. Mrs. Howe kissed her on both cheeks, drew her to the sofa, seated her- self by her side, and was instantly volu- ble and delightful. I took Frank to the window, and, with all the brevity possible in a narrative of adventure such as ours, related what had befallen us. He listened with a run- ning commentary of “ By Jove I—You don’t say so !—-Is it possible I" and other such exclamations, constantly directing glances at Grace, who was now deep in talk with Mrs. Howe, and, as I could tell by the expression in her face, excusing hprt conduct by explaining the motives o 1 . - Mrs. Howe’s air was one of affection and sympathy, as though she had come to my darling with the resolution to love her and to help her. . “She is very young, Herbert,” said Frank, in a low voice. “ She is eighteen,” I answered. “She is exquisitely beautiful. I can- not wonder at you, even if I could have the heart to condemn you. But is not that a wedding-ring on her finger?” “ It is,” I answered, looking at him.- He looked hard at me in return, and remarked, “A mere provision against public curiosity. I presume? For you are not married?" “ I am not so sure of that," I an- swered; “ but my story is not yet ended.” And I then told him ,of the marriage service which had been per- formed by Captain Parsons on board the ship Carthusian. “ Tut I” cried he, with a decided shake of the head, when I had made an end. “ That’s no marriage, man." “ I believe it is, then," said I; “though, of course, until you unite us we do not consider ourselved man. and wife.” “ I should think not,” he exclaimed with vehemence. “What! a plain mas- ter of a ship empowered to solemnize Holy Matrimony? Certainly not. ‘No Churchman would hear of such a thing.” “ Ay, but it’s not for the Church; it's the afiair of the law. If the law says it’s all right the Church is bound to regard it as right.” “ Certainly not,” he cried, and was pro-. ceeding, but I interrupted him by re- peating that we had consented to be married by Captain Parsons in the forlornhope that the contract might be binding. ' “But without banns?—without license? —without the consent of the young lady’s guardians? No, no,” he cried; “ you are not married. But .it is highly desirable,” he added, with a look at Grace, “that you should get married without delay. And now what do you propose to do?” “Well, time may pe saved by your publishing the banns at once, Frank.” “Yes, but you must first obtain the guardian’s consent.” “ Oh, confound it I" I cried, “ I did not know that. I believed the banns could be published whilst the consent was being worked for.” He mused awhile, eying his wife and Grace, who continued deep in conversa- tion, and then, after a considerable pause, exclaimed,— -“ There is nothing to be done but this; we must revert to your original scheme. Miss Bellassys—" “ Call. her Grace,” said I. “Well, Grace must come and stay with us.” I exclaimed“ to I nodded; for that I had intended all - along. “Iwill find a lodging for you in the village.” Inodded again. “Meanwhile, —this very day, indeed,—you must sit down and write to Lady Amelia Roscoe, saying all that your good sense can sug- gest, and taking your chance, as you have put it, of the appeal your associa- tion With her neice will maketo her" ladyship’s wordly vanity and to her perceptions as a woman of society. “All that you are saying,” I replied, “ I had long ago resolved on; and you will find this scheme, as you have put it, almost word for word in the letter in which I told you of my plans and asked you to marry us.” “ Yes, I believe my recommendations are not original,” said he. There is something more to suggest, however. If Lady Amelia will. send Grace her con- sent, why wait for the banns to be pub- lished? Why not procure a license? It is due to Grace,” said he, sinking his voice and sending a look of admiration at her, “ that you should make her your wife as soon as possible.” “ Yes, yes, I have heard that said be- fore. Ihave been a good deal advised on this head. My dear fellow, only con- sider; would not I make her my wife this instant if you will consent to marry us?” ' The pony and trap had been sent round to some adjacent stables, but by seven o’clock we had made all necessary arrangements and the vehicle was again brought th the door. I then sat down to write Lady Amelia Roscoe. It is some years now since all this hap- pened. I have no copy of that letter, and my memory is not strong in points of this sort. I recollect, however, that after making several attempts I pro- duced something which was brief almost to abruptness, and that it satisfied me as on the whole very well put, not want- ing in a quality of what I might term mild brutality, for this was an element I could not very well manage without having regard to what I had to ask and what I had to tell. And- let this referrnce to that letter sufilce; though I must add that I took care to enclose a copy of Captain Parson’s certifiCate of our mar- riage, with the names of those‘ who had signed - it, affirming that the marriage was good in point of law, as she might easily assure herself by consulting her solicitors, and also .acquainting her in up doubtful terms that the Wedding- in'g was on Grace’s Inger and that we refiarded ourselves as husband and W e. ' ' a I had scarcely despatched this letter when Gaudel was announced. He stood, in the door-way, capin hand, knuckling his forehead and backing a bit with a rolling gait, after the custom of the British merchant sailor. . “Well, Mr. Barclay, sir, and how are ye again? And how’s ‘the young lady after all these here traverses?" I bade him sit down. pulled the bell for a glass ‘of grog for him, and 'asked for news of the Spitfire. “Well. sir. ” he answered “ she’s just what I’ve come to talk to you about. She startedabutt, as I all along thought otherwise she’s as sound as abell. There was a shipright'as came down to look at her, and he asked me what we was going to do. I told him that I didn’t think the gent as owned her meant to repair her. “I rather fancy,” I 3 says, says I, feeling my way, “_ that he wants to sell hert” “How much do ’6 ask, d’ye know?” says he, 8. looking at the little dandy. “ I can’t answer that ” say’s I, but I’m sure he’ll accept any reasonable offer. Says he, ‘May I view her?’ Sartinly, I say’s, says I. He thoroughly overhauled her. inside and out, and then says he, ‘ I believe Ican find a customer for this here craft. Suppose you go and find out what the gentlemen wants and let me know. You’ll find me at ’ and here henames a public house. " “ Get what you can for her, Caudel,” Ianswered: “the more the better for those to whom the money will go. ’ For my part, as you know, 'I consider her as at the bottom; but, since you have pulled her through, I’ll ask you to pack up certain articles which are on board, —the cabin clock, the plate, my books ” and I named a few other items of the little craft’s internal furniture. Well, he sat with me fora half an hour, talking over the dandy and our adven- tures, then left me, and I went into the town to make a few necessary pur- chases. 3 I went to bed at nine o’clock, and may say that I did not sleep the less soundly for missing the heave of the ocean. Next morningshortly after breakfast Frank arrived to drive me over to—'. Until we were clear of the town he could talk of nothing but Grace,——how sweet she was, how exquisite her breeding, how gentle. All this was as it should be, and I heard him with delight. But to make an end, seeing that .but little more remains to be told. It was four days after our arrival at that Idrove Grace over to Penzance to en- able her to keep an appointment with her dress-maker. Caudel still hung about the quaint old town, and had sent me a rude briny scrawl, half the words looking as though they had been smeared out by his little finger and the others as if they had been written by his pro- truded.’tongue, in which he said, in spelling beyond expression Wonderful, that he had brought the shipwright to terms, and wished to see me. I left Grace at the dress-maker’s and walked to the address where Caudel had said I should find him. He looked highly soaped and polished, his hair shone like his boots, and he wore a new coat, with several fathoms of spOtted kerchief Wound round his throat. ' After we had exchanged a few senten- ces of greetingand goodwill, he address- ed me thus : “ Your honor gave me leave to do the best I could with the little dandy. Well, Mr. Barclay, sir, that is what I’ve done; and here's the money." He thrust his hands into the pocket of his trousers, and pulling out a large Chamois-leather bag, he extracted from it a quantity of bank notes, v'ery worn, greasy, and crumpled, and some sov- ereigns and shillings which looked as if they had been stowed away in an old stocking since the beginning of the cen- tury. He surveyed me with a respect- ful triumph, perhaps watching for some expression of astonishment. ‘ “How much have you there, Caudel?” ‘_‘ You’ll scarcely credit it sir.” said he, grinning. “ But how much, man? how much?” ‘3‘ One hundred and seventy-three pound, fourteen shillin’, as I’m a man I” cried, smiting the table with his im-' mensc fist. I smiled, for, though I had bought the dandy cheap, she had cost me a very great deal more by the time she was fit to go afloat in than Caudel had received for her. But Grace was not to be kept waiting; and I rose. “You will give what you think fair to the boy Bobby, Caudel.” He looked at me stupidly. “ Did I not tell you,” said I, “ that what the dandy fetched was to be yours, and that something of it was to go to the boy? As to those who deserted you, they may call on me for their wages, but they’ll get no more.” He seemed overwhelmed; and indeed his astonishment surprised me, for I had imagined my intentions with regard to the yacht were well known to him. Grace and I returned to some- where about four o’clock, having lllnched at Penzance. We alighted at the vicar— age, and entered the fragrant little dining-room. My cousin and his wife were sitting waiting for us, Sophy on our entrance started up and cried,— “ Grace, here is a letter for you. I be- lieve it is from your aunt." My darling turned white, and I was sensible of growing very nearly as pale as she. Her hand trembled as she took the letter; she eyed me piteously. seemed to make an effort to break the envelope, then, extending it to me, said, “ I dare not read it.” - I instantly tore it .open, read it to my— self once, then aloud : “Lady Amelia Roscoe begs to inform her niece that she washes her hands of her. She wishes never to see nor to hear of her again. So far as Lady Amelia Roscoe’s consent goes, her niece is at liberty to do what she likes and go where she likes. Any further communications which Lady Amelia’s niece may require to make must be addressed to her lady- ship’s solicitors, Messrs. Fox and Wyn- dall, Lincoln’s Inn Fields,” . “Thank Heaven!" I exclaimed, draW- ing the deepest breath I hadIever fetched in my life. “Now, Herbert, Iam at your service," said Frank. Grace was crying, and Sophy, giving her husband and me a reassuring look, with sisterly gentleness took my dar- ling’s arm and led her out of the room. THE END. Coffee Kills Malaria. It is asserted by those who have tried it, that malaria and epidemics are avoid- ed by those who drink a cup of hot coffee before venturing into the morning air. Burned on hot coals it is a disinfectant fora sick room: By some of the best physicians it is considered a,specific in typhoid fever. To give a nice gloss to ironed clothes ,_ add a teaspoonful of kerosene toeach quart of starch. All odor evaporates when drying. Never hang wet flannels in the sun. They shouidbe driedin the airand shade to keep them white. ' Advertise in the Guerra. something to sell. ‘ 1w 1:]: KLY: .N; e mi. LK G-A‘SZET Tn IN THEN UTMEG. "STATE. SOME or THE‘PECULIAR INDUSTRIES or ‘ . CONNECTICUT. Men Who Make Money From the Oil . and Grease of Repliies and Animals- 01'. From; the ‘Rattlesnukey-Grenso " From. the Polecat. ‘ Within a radius of ten miles from Hamburg, Conn., there are half a dozen men who are accumulating money from the sale of the oil and grease that they extract from the various reptiles and animals that they capture among the ledges and along the streams. The muskrat, the polecat and the rattlesnake yield the most valuable oils that they get, and of these three the rattlesnake oil is worth the most. It finds a ready sale and brings from $25 to $30 an ounce, according to its purity. This oil is procured from the eggs of the snake and the process of getting it is a tedious one. In captur- ing the snake care must be taken not to beat it upon the middle .of its body, for by so doing the hunter runs a risk of breaking the eggs that the snake may be carrying and thus render them valuelc-ss. The snake hunters have become adepts at the business, and they go armed with a pole or staff about eight feet long, _into the end of which is set a sharp steel blade from six to eight inches in length. When a snake is discovered, the hunter stamps upon the ground and alarms it. The snake erects its head, and, like a flash, the staff swings around, and the ser- pent’s head is popped of by the glit- tering blade. . If the body of the snake is found to contain eggs they are removed and placed in a kettle of water, under which a fire is built. The water is al- ways boiling before the eggs are put into it, and it is kept at a boiling point as long as oil rises from the eggs. to the surface. It often requires forty-eight hours of steady boiling to extract all the oil from fifteen eggs. Every half hour the oil is skimmed from the water and placed in a small iron kettle that is about eight inches in diameter and eighteen inches deep. Considerable of the boiling water is carried into this kettle with the grease. When all the oil has been ex- tracted from the eggs and placed in the small kettle, a lid is placed upon it and hermetically sealed with red sealing wax. A slow and steady fire is then kept under the kettle until all the water in the oil has evaporated through a small pipe that enters the side of the kettle near the top and which leads to a worm that rests in a barrel of constantly running water. From a tube at the bottom of the worm the condensed water drops into a glass jar. To the top of this small particles of oil rises. and when it has cooled it is taken off. When water ceases to drop from the ‘ tube at the bottom of the worm it is evi- dent that there is no more Water in the kettle, and the 'fire is immediately drawn from beneath it, and it is de- luged with cold water until it is thor- oughly cooled. From this kettle the oil is removed, and placed in a. shallow tin pan with a handle and agwide spout in it. The pan is placed over the fire, and when the oil is thinned it is poured through a cloth—linen of very fine texture—— into a glass jar. When thus clarified it has the appearance of vaseline. In . this shape it is marketed. tattlesnake oil is used as a remedy for rheumatism, and it is one of the ingredients employed in the manu- facture of some of the patent inedi- cines found in the market for neu- ralgia, rheumatism and obscure dis- eases of the joints. It is a powerful irritant, and when a drop of it is ap- plied to the flesh it has about the same effect that the application of a coal of fire would. For this reason the manufacturers of this oil are obliged to exercise the greatest care, and while working at the kettles they invariably wear gloves, and when their face is not protected by a beard, they cover the lower portion of it with a loose cloth fastened. in place by an elastic band. So persistently has the rattlesnake been hunted in this vicinity, he is now but rarely found. Now and then one is captured in some isolated 10- cality among the ledges and in the swamps. In the central part of the State this species of serpent is com- mon, and hunters there procure a great deal of rattlesnake oil during the year. Next to the rattlesnake in import- ance to the hunter is the polecat. The pelt ofthis obnoxious animal brings from $1.50 to $2 readily, and the fat of the animal produces a grease that sells for from fifty to seventy-five cents a pound. A great deal of this grease is consumed by New England people, who believe it to be asove'r- eign remedy for croup in children and hoarseness and soreness of the chest in adults. As a healing article this grease possesses great merit, and it is used by apothecaries in the manufacture of ointments. The pelt of the black polecat is quite valuable, and it is often manufaCturcd into muffs and boas and sold for monkey skin. The men who follow the business of hunting are very retiring in their habits ofliving. They dwell in poorly constructed huts among the hills, and are only seen in town when they have It is estimated that each one of them is worth $10,000, and it has all been made at this pe- culiar business in the last dozen years. —Philadelphia Times. ‘ - How To Be Happy. No man or woman was ever created too good to do honest work, and those who shirk their duty are only sowing seeds of trouble. There is work to do everywhere, in the office, on the farm, in the store, on the ranch, at the‘bank counter and in all do artments of life. The true philosop y and. canine hep inesa o . life is only foun in do- ing oucst work—Boston Post. ‘JobPrint’i-ng‘ neatly done at this omce Willi. L. Dnnxcnx, Esq. A prominent lawyer of Poughkeepsie, N. Y., who was in the famous “Fighting Jersey Brigade” under Gen. Phil Kearney, has used Hood’s Sarsapal‘llla with great benefit Purify YourBl’ood , as a general tonic to cleanse the blood and sharpen the appetite. “It is the best anti- malaria remedy,” he says, "that I know of.” Certainly the cordial endorsement of IO prominent a man should convince you that Hood’s Sarsaparilla is worthy your confidence. lit. Charles F. Drexel, a well known former -Spfing M‘e‘dicine. resident of Baltimore, Md., now Deputy City Treasurer of Omaha, Keir, writes that Hood’s Sarsaparilla has effected a Phenomenal Cure in the case of his son,‘ who when two' years old became afflicted with Malignant Eczema. It first developed in his right eye, and the discharge from the same L'AR causedtlle whole face on cu that suit) to break out in a. nasty, running sore. The poor little fellow was indeed pinable to look at. Physicians temporary relief. 3 He almost lost t e sig it of one eye, and the best oculists in Baltimore . failed to benefit him. Finally Mrs. Drexel insisted upon trying Hood’s Sarsa arilla and before he had taken half a be tle he looked like another child. The humor en- tirely disappeared, and His Eyesight was fully Restored. In fact. says Mr. Drexel, “he is the healthiest of our three children, H 00d ’ s I Sarsaparl Ila and we feel that too much praise cannot be given Hood’s Sarsaparilla.” Try Hood- 9 Pills for Biliousnees this Spring. I WISMHHI 55 Main Street, KEEPS CONSTANTLY ON HAND .COMPLETE ASSORTMENT OF ALL KINDS OF eats, FISH. Oysters and Clams IN THEIR ShASON. U..‘.ers called for and de- gave . him onl livered free of charge. can and See life AND I WILL qUIT YOU. 3111106 PROF. J. H. HEYIIEN, Organist and] Director of St, lllary’s Church. -—TEACHER OF— Piano, Organ, Harmnny, Singing, Violin and ’teile. Piano Instructions . By the German Method. 23 WE ST AVENUE Residence, 1892 SIYI. 3! Just received Spring and gnu: Ennis, Business IanlI Dress ~ Sumngs. The finest line‘I have ever offered in all the atest styles. A special line 0 Iighlcoluledtcolcil . .cllevmis.; I Than which there is nothing better or more stylish manufactured. Call and examine them and get prices. wn swollns. 90 Washington 8t,¥.i_~So-. IIelwaIIl. '_ . manna.- salons. ARCHITECT. . Ten Years Practical Experience. 83 tisfactior. ' Guaranteed. . s o WILTON AVENHB NORWALK. I mm TheLatest ' Styles > of ‘ a Menu Cards, ' Dance Olden WINE '- Llsrs, Show Hangers, \Nedding . Easiness Cards, \ VISIIIIIg cflfd3:3 Ila“ Gazelle 01in i lll’th and l 5 8001er Work A SPECA'LTY Ball “Tickets, . RECEPTION CARDS, ‘ Invitations, . ). 3
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