Rensselaer Republican, Volume 27, Number 3, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 September 1894 — Page 2

MONEY TO BURN.

BY CHAS. H. DAY. ®W Journalist.

LHERE was considerable talk in the city room the first day that Clarence" Holt . made his appearance ' there and began Jiis work on the “Daily Sensation." He made his entry accompa- . nied by his father, a

stockholder in the paper and the business manager, and was introduced to the city editor. While they were chatting the oldest reporter in the room, a chronic kicker, growled: “Well, here comes another favorite to be foisted upon the city man. He’ll be a pet. of course; his old man is a stockholder and has got money to burn.” 7 Further controversy anc} retort was interrupted by the approach of the city editor, who left his desk to introduce Clarence Holt to the members of the staff, who greeted him according to their various dispositions. Young Holt returned to the editor’s desk, and his father and the business manager having gone he said to the latest addition to the staff of the “Sensation.” “I believe you have had some little experience in writing?” “I have done no news work, but have written some stories for publication which have been published and paid for.” When he said “paid for” he put a bit of emphasis on the words. - “When your father first broached the subject of your coming here he gave me some samples of your work to read. Your descriptive powers are very good and you have a keen sense of humor. “Now what I most need on my staff is a good writer of special articles. Now, if you can produce rapidly and graphically, you can begin your career well up the ladder, although I shall make some deadly enemies on the staff by giving you the opportunity. “In the exigency of daily publication you must do rush work, but not poor work. You will not have time or opportunity for rewriting and polishing as the great lights of literature are presumed to lavish on their efforts.” Clarence Holt nodded his head, and the editor further said: “But you have one thing to encourage you, and you can well afford to serve an apprenticeship and stand the eternal grind. It is only a mere matter of time when you will have a paper of your own, as your father is well fixed —has money to burn.” “I’ve come hereto learn the way and will succeed if it is in me to, but don’t youthink that to start off you are overestimating my abilities? 1 want to be taken for what lam and for what 1 can do. Don’t let my father’s interest in this paper cut any figure with you.” “Good! Now what I want you to do is tq go to the Olympic Theater and interview one of the chorus girls. You must find one who has an interesting life history, something romantic.”

11. The comic opera of “Cupid” had proven a success and everybody he was to meet was in the best of humor, shading hands with others — and himself. “Now-it happened that the author of the libretto was a journalist and he immediately came to the new reporter's rescue with: “Just hold on a little while I ruh around a bit. I’ve had a heap of experience in this sort of thing and I may be able to help you out.” Prettv soon the author came back and said: “By jove, I’ve found her and she’s as pretty as a peach. The stage* manager knows all about her, comes of a good family, once had plenty of money—money to burn —hasn’t got it now. Father dropped dead in some way. Hang around and I will point her out to you. Why, there she is; that stately looking creature. Superb!” The stage manager brought, the young lady forward and introduced her. “Miss Ethel Allen.” “Mr. Holt, of the ‘Sensation.’” Miss Allen and Mr. Holt said something about “pleased to meet” atid thc success of the opera, and-of course referred to the weather. The stage manager put an end to the talk by calling the next scene and the rehearsal proceeded rapidly with suggestions from the author and composer. When the rehearsal was over Ethel Allen came shyly up to Clarence Holt and said: “Now, Mr. Newspaperman, I am at your mercy.” “As this is about meal time and you must be hungry," he replied, “I suggest that I walk along with you to your home, if you have no objections, as you know it is a part of my errand to see a chorus girl at home-.”—-——— The pair walked a block in awkward silence, for Clarence Holt was rather a bashful fellow, and the situation was a novel one. Ethel Allen ‘was the first to break the ice. “Have you been a journalist long?” The young man laughed outright at th 6 question. “I make my start as a reporter today.” The young lady laughed, too. Before another block was gone

Ethel Allen was telling something of herself and her family, speaking mostly of her parents. “Papa was very well off, once, and in a prosperous 1 business. By a bit of sharp practice, which I cannot understand, a partner of his in a transaction mapaged to make the money and leave papa in the lurch, a broken man, just at the time that he thought of retiring. “As the saying goes, there was a great ‘come-down’ for the Allen family, and father had to go to clerking and begin life all over again,, In all his distress he managed to educate me. I am fond of music, blessed .with a voice, and here I am, a member of the chorus of ‘Cupid.’ ” “Why. indeed, that is a romance in real life,” said the reporter. “It may be a romance to you, but to me it is a reality without the romance,” said the girl, with a tinge of sadness in her voice.

The Allen family had already dined, and the chorus girl’s father entertained the reporter in the parlor with a precise account of his financial .ruin and-, the -direct cause that led to it. Clarence Holt made copious notes, and informed the defrauded merchant: . ' “I have got the whole transaction down to a dot. Could you favor me with the name of the villain that wronged you?” “That would be libelous, you know, and involve your paper in litigation,” “Oh, yes,” exclaimed the new reporter, “I see that would never do. The story is strong enough without the name.” Clarence Holt had been invited to dine, but had declined. It was not his dining hour, but he wanted to see Miss Allen “for a few more questions.” When the girl of the chorus appeared he forgot all about the questions, but he said instead how pleased he had been to meet her and how pleased he had been to meet her father, who had “suffered such wrongs at the hands of an unprincipled scoundrel.” There was fire in his eye as he added: “But I’ll show him up in away that will make him wince.”

111. There was an unusual demand for the “Sensation” the next morning, such an extra call that the man in the counting room at last had his curiosity so much aroused that he asked. “What makes the ‘Sensation’ go so this morning?” “Why, ain’t you on to it?” said a purchaser. “You’ll hear from it soon enough. Just read this article, ‘A Chorus Girl’s Romance.’ Just skip the first part of it and get down to the digging up of a skeleton, an exposure of how old man Allen, the girl’s father, was done out of his fortune. The whole town has got it, and there’ll be the deuce to pay in your office.. You hear me!” When the business manager came in he was frothing at the mouth like a mad dog, and the language that he used was dreadful. “Send the city editor to me,” he screamed, “the moment he arrives." Angry voices were heard in the managers private room, but the senior Holt was doing the most of the swearing. When the city editor came, he was summoned, and lie responded promptly, and appeared before the council. Holt, senior, was the spokesman. Thrusting forth the paper, he demanded: “Who wrote this article?” “Your son,” was the answer, “the best first attempt I ever saw; you should be proud of it and him.” The rich Mr. Holt, the man with money to burn, sank into his chair and gasped for breath; after awhile he managed to stammer: “That —is —all.” A prolonged hush fell over the assembly; it was an awkward spell of silehce. With an effort the rich Mr. Holt spoke as if in apology: “It was a business transaction, that was all. I got the best of the bargain, nothing more. If I robbed Allen, where is the law to punish me?” Everyone present knew how skilfully he had kept within legal bounds and out of the reach of the law. As he stumbled out, he turned and whispered hoarsely: “For God’s sake, gentlemen, not a word of this to my son.” IV. Clarence Holt had been told that the article was a success and thereafter he accepted many importan assignments, all of which he filled jxtitK. credit, to himself a.ud..tlu? .paper*. The city editor kept him busy with special stories, and when his father died and he inherited a fortune he was financially and practically able to embark in newspaper publication on his own account. Upto this time he had kept up his acquaintance with Ethel Allen and saw her advance step by step until she became the prima donna of the Olympic Theater. Then he asked her to retire from the stage and become an editor’s wife. Even the manager, who was at first almost inconsolable at the thought of parting with a treasure, became reconciled at the wisdom of her choice and course. “After all it is the best for both of them. Ethel Allen is a jewel with beauty and virtue, and Clarence Holt is as good as they make them; besides, he’s got money to burn.”

A Strictly Texas Pleas antry.

Chicago Herald. A. P. Macauley, of Fort Worth, was in Greenville, Tex; ; a few days ago, selling to an old customer.- As he relates himself: “The strictly Texan joke that was

was played upon me while I ‘ was tilling that order would have caused a nervous man to have had St. Vistus’ dance in five minutes. I had just closed the deal and was preparing certain promissory notes for my customer to sign. Leaning over his front counter, I showed him the form of one of the notes, terms and conditions. Just then from the doorway a pistol shot was fired and a bullet cut its way through thecenter of the note, narrowly missing my customer and burying itself in some shelving. “Of course I looked around. Two burly cowboys stood at the door, each with a drawn gun, and one ol blank Yankee Can sell goods in this town,” and with that a shot whistled over my head and another hustled past my feet. Still another went into the ceiling. My customer did not seem to be very much disturbed but smiled in a deprecatory manner on the two. I concluded that it was best for me to stand still, but after a volley had been shot into-the wooden Ceiling and another into the floor I beckoned the entire outfit out of the back door, tlemen, barring a slight tendency to shoot at anything and everything. They bore me no ill will—only performed their little acts as a matter of humor.. But I had those notes signed without further delay and went on my way.”

Wanted.

New Orleans Picayune. A barber to shave the face of the earth. A bed for a tick of a clock. A timekeeper for a mill race. A sure cure for a pig’s stye. A carpenter to put a roof on a water-shed. A charter for a snow bank. Agents to handle the spice of life. Some one to spin a mountain top. A tonsorial artist to shampoo the head of a river. A detective to unravel a grave plot. A doctor to cure a window pane. An audience to see a horse fly. A nursemaid to rock the cradle of the deep. A key to a fire lock. A comb for a tow head. A singer who can reach the high seas. A man to find traces of a lost harness. A lawyer to try a watch case. A tailor to take the measure of a suit for libel. A sign language for dumb waiters. Some use for a dog’s pants. A pair of handcuffs for procrastination, “the thief of time.” A hand to go with an arm of the sea. A necklace for a neclcpf land. A pump for a well spring of information. Some buttons for a coat of paint. A commander to take charge of a courtship. A machine to thrash “wild oats.” A harness-maker to build a harness for nightmare. A thousand skippers to take charge of a head of cheese. A taxidermist to prepare brickbats for exhibition.

Weather Hints.

Harper's Young People. Watch the sky for what are called “mares’ tails." These appearing after clear weather show the track of the wind in the sky. A rosy sunset predicts fair weather. A red sky in the morning foretells bad weather. A gray sky in the morning means fine weather. If the first streaks of light at dawn are seen above a bank of clouds, look out for wind; if they are close to or on the horizon the weather will be fair. In general, soft, delicate colors in the sky, with indefinite forms of clouds, mean fair weather; gaudy, unusual colors and hard-edged clouds mean rain, and probably wind. A dark, gloomy, blue sky is windy; but a bright, light blue sky indicates fine weather. Generally the softer clouds look, the less wind (but perhaps more rain) may be expected; and the harder, more “greasy,” rolled, tufted,or ragged, thestronger the coming wind will prove. A bright yellow sky at sunset presages wind; a pale yellow, wet; orange or copper-colored, wind and rain. These are some of the most important points about weather, whiefy have been set down in the books by old and experienced sailormen.

Coyotes After the Melons.

Kansas City Times. A remarkable story of the sagacity of animals comes from Cheyenne county, Oklahoma. There Jias 'been little or no rain there this season, and all the springs have gone dry, so there is no place for the many wild animals abounding in that section to quench their thirst. The soil there is well adapted to watermelons, and hundreds of acres have been planted by the scattered settlers Since it has become so dry the farmers find that for the first time the coyotes are after the melons. When an animal 'comes in a watermelon patch he jumps onto a melon until he cracks it then insert his nose into it and quenches his thirst with the contents. As soon as one discovered this he communicated the fact to the others, and our entire melon crop bids fair to be destroyed in this way. “Did your husband seem to grasp the situation during the big strike?’ asked the -walking delegate of Mrs. Hardhed. “He held on to his job, if that’s what you mean," was Mrs. Hardhed’s grim response. And tke walking delegate moved on toward more promising friends.

IN LOVE AND WAR.

New York Journal. The story of a country village is the story of its store. That was what I was thinking as I sat in ’Bijah’s store, with the mingled odors of calico print and Iried apples, coffee and the straw that crockery is packed in fighting for supremacy in my notice. ’Bijah’s broad back was turned to me as he was sorting the day’s mail with comments that made me as wise as himself regarding its contents. “Miss Mi-randy Beal,” said Bijah; “that’s baout her pension, I guess. Ruther official lookin’, thet is. Mr. Asy Fowler; his son John—gone down to Pochemouth —he writes to him nigh onto once every week—en a nice clean hand he writes, does John. Here’s a letter fer the schulema’amNow thet’s han’writin’ fer you! Putty ez she is, an’ jest as simple like.” The latch clicked and the door opened; ’Bijah looked over his shoulder and grinned. I was shut out from sight of more than the visitor’s legs by a slack line of -dangling towels, apronsand socks; but they were steady, reliable looking legs, straight and strong, clothed in heavy boots and blue overalls. ’Bijah neither turned nor did he lay down his letters. He stood there grinning, and whether the person in the doorway was grinning also, or plotting my assassination in pantomime, I was none the wiser. The oheavy boots shuffled and turned about, stepped outside, and the door shut. ’Bijah chuckled to himself and looked back to his letters again. “Them papers is for young Thompson. He’s tfe’ editor of our paper. He’s ajive—alive and kickin’. He’s been out West fur a spell, an’ he thinks we’re all dead and buried. An’ he has made a great change in the Bugler, I tell you. Folks say he’ll be made to smart fur the way he musses raound inter other people’s affairs, but it’s lively, it’s lively.”

The papers went into a separate box, and ’Bijah resumed the letters. “Mehaley Hopkins; she’s got a heap of money. ’Mazin’ haow fond yer folks is of ye when yer got a pile an’ ain’t no heirs of yer buddy. She’s good fer ’em, though; she’s a cute un,” “I suppose it is unusual for any one to make much more than their living away up here, isn’t it, Bijah?” “Hump! yes, fer any one. Not fer some on em, though. Some on ’em is smarter’n greased lightnin’.” “Him, mow, Jeremiah Wilson, he’s a keen ’un. Nobody ever got the best o’ th’ ole man but Jim. You saw Jim—came in here jest naow; ain’t no 'tater bugs on Jim; when he gits up he’s up fer all day.” Bijah grinned and wagged his head. “Jere-miah-Wilson!” he remarked, and slapped the letter into its pigeon hole. The latch clicked again, the door opened, and the same pair of legs appeared in the very same spot where I had seen them before. Bijah grinned. Presumably the unseen grinned also, for there was too much of Bi-. jah’s grin not to be offensive, if it were otherwise. “What chu want?” —— “Nothin’." “We don’t keep that; or if we do, we’re just aout of it.” The big boots turned about slowly. “Sure ye do want no lamps, are ye?” “Gals go with em?” “Not in this shop.” “That settles it, as fur as I’m concerned,” and he went away and closed the door again. Bijah looked after him and chuckled. “What’s the joke, Bijah?" “Dono ez I’d orter say an thin, aoutside, but you know how it is, Mr. Carson, you never seem no stranger.”

“Hand over your story, you old gossip,” I answered. “Why, it would burn your tongue off if you tried to keep it in.” ’Bijah laughed heartily at this polite sally. “Well, I take for my tex’, as Elder Slocum says, that beautiful axum, ’All is fair in love an’ war.” He came round the end of the counter and sat on an unopened sugar barrel, with his legs crossed and his rough hands clasped around his knee. “The old man, Jeremiah Wilson, that I mentioned back a spell, he’s a TSi 1 tbf."ire"db”Tinow nothin’ b'ut'Jiis own way; an’ Mis’ Wilson, she never know’d nothin’ but to gin it to* him. He’s got a trick er turnin’ red faced an’ lookin’ like he was so neat, she couldn’t bear ter hev her house mussed, so she jest gin in to him, “There wuz one gal—Mame her name wuz —an’ they both thought a sight uv her. She wa’n’t no more like neither uv them than nothin’ at all, and they both tried projecks with her. “Her father wanted her to be a boy, an’ he alluz felt as es she done him when she wan’n’t. He wanted ter make a lawyer out uv her; he’s dead in love with lawin’, ole man Wilson is; but yer might better try ter make a hossrake out of whalebones ez ter make a lawyer outer Mame. What the ole man said wuz gospel, though; she felt sorter like she’d better not make him no more hard feelin’ after no! bein’ that boy he wanted. “Her mother meant her ter be a good housekeeper an’ put up p’serves an’ make pickles; an’ Mame'would Stan’ at the winder an' sing an’ fret

al! about her mess till ’twas clean spilt. “After Mis’ Wilson died, though, Marne ,done better round the haouse. Mebbe es the ole man wuzter die she’d take ter lawin’. Ye can’t tell; she kin do most an’thin’. “Jest about then Jim Lane began ter sleeve round with Mamie Wilson. Smart as a steel trap, he is; he runs the sawmill up the crick; but the old man hates him like pizen, an’ he talked ter Mame till she lowed she wouldn’t take up with Jim ’less he wuz willin’. “Jim Lane is the darndest goodnatured feller you ever see. He’s alluz got a good word an’ a pleasant smile fer folks, an’ he’ll go further out o r Eis track fer a friend ’an most anybody T know. “He took it offul hard about Mame. an’ he reg’lar got mopey and down in the mouth about it. Then he got his second wind, an’ he tried every w’ich way to play it on the old man. But Mame she got purty stuffy, too, and she declared she’d never ’pose her father, so thar ’Bijah got off the barrel to sell a couple of candy balls to a rosy faced little lass who was so short as tn hn visible under the slack line, and resumed, as she closed the door of the shop: “The hull village knew all about it, and they talked it up, early and late. The gals they wasn’t slow ter say what they’d do es they wuz in her place, and The Bugler took a hand, so to speak, and nearly drove the old man wild. But Miss Peterson, the minister’s sister, she ’lowed that Mame wuz right to mind her father.

“ ‘Look a-here,’ says Jim, ‘ain’t I got no rights at all?’ an Miss Peterson she laughed an’ said she s’posed so, but he cert’nly didn’t orter ask Mame to take the responsibility of breakin’ her word.” ’Bijah chuckled and changed his legs andclaspedthe other knee. “ ’Twasn’t very long after that ole Wilson went home one night. ’Twuz gettin’ early dusk, an’ he tole Mame she’d better get the lamp afore she set down ter tea. Mame wuz a goin’ through the entry way with a whoopin’ great shade lamp in her hand, when somebody knocked ter the front door, an’ she jest stopped an’ opened it without thinkin’. “Jim Lane was a-standin’ there. ‘Don’t say nothin’, Mame, says he, an’ he takes her bodily, lamp an’ all, an’ tucks her inter a carriage thet he hed at the gate. He didn’t fool raound with no railroad train, but jest turned them horses’ heads fer Canada, an’ when they got ter the line Mame wuz a settin’ there ez still ez a mouse, without ary hat er coat, an’ that big shade lamp a burnin’ jest ez peart as es it wuz on the ole man Wilson’s table ter home.” ’Bijah spat at the stove and laughed to himself. “Fearful thing—the ingratitude ol children, ain’t it? But you’d orter ter seen the Bugler the nex’ mornin’. Every dad blamed colume in it hed a big headline, ‘Jim Lane has got his gal.’ Gosh! thet jest proved ole Wilson wouldn’t never hev busted when he didn’t bust that moniin’. “He went whoopin’off ter see his lawyer ter see what he cud do ter Jim, but Mame she wuz of age an’she writ him that she went of her own free will; so all he could make any fussabaout wuz the lamp, an’ they’ve been a lawin’ an’ foolin’ an’ arbitratin’ ever since.”

How They Tell Time in Nepaul.

St. Nicholas. There are no public schools in Nepaul. The sons of princes and nobles, even our young king, while he is ye! only a boy—are taught at home by the guru, or household priest, who is supposed to be also a pundit, or very learned man. Later, the young men of rank are sent to Patna, Benares or Calcutta, where they learn to speak English and to wear English clothes, and to tell the time of day by an English clock; for in Nepaul time is measured by means of a copper vessel, with a small hole in the bottom, set afloat on a tank or pool. Sixty times a day this kettle fills and sinks, and every time it sinks a gong is struck; so that the day is divided into sixty “gongs" or “bells,” as sailors reckon time aboard ship. The poor Bhootiya shepherds or the Newar women who make pottery in the fields, say that the day is begun when they can count the tiles on the roof of a house, or when they can see the hairs on the back of a man’s hand by holding it up against the light.

Proverbs While You Wait.

Chicago Herald, A pleased man is easily convinced. One monkey will amuse many men. Instinct is more faithful than reason. Real fighters never waste their wind. When a man is right he is seldom left. Forced laughter pains more than tears. Morality never looks well on dress parade. Genius and originality are blood relations. A waiting game is one which two can seldom play. There is liable to be much base alloy in coined words. Most folks get savage when they mean only to be severe. “Follow your leader” is a dangerous game even for boys. (Some parents heed an introduction to their own children. When all men know so little how can one man know it all?

HOW HINCKLEY FELL.

A Graphic Description of the Minnesota Fire Horror, Hinckley Special to Inter-Ocean, Sept. 3. Not an hour passes but some new horror is added to those already chronicled. It is now certain that over 400 people have perished, and the greatest anxiety is felt here for 100 missing lumbermen, not a word from whom has been heard since Saturday morning. They have not one chance in a thousand for escape. The number of Minnesota towns to go down before the cyclone of flame now reaches eight, Cromwell, Partridge, Curtis and Cushing having been added to the list. The loss to property will not fall far short of $4,000,000 in the counties of Pine, Aitkin, Miller, Lacs and Kanabec. The first good description of the great fire that swept away this thriving village was secured on the arrival of the special train today. It seems that forest and peat fires had been raging within a short distance for some .weeks, apprehension had been felt by the inhabitants and no preparations made for emergencies. Saturday afternoon the fire approached, fanned by a strong wind. The' smoke grew dense as the day advanced, and it soon became dark as night. About 4 o’clock the wind changed and the residents of the doomed town saw the flames bearing down upon them. As the alarm rang: through the streets the people rushed from their houses, and when they caught sight of the red, onrushing sea of fire they became panic stricken. Then followed scenes that! wer e enough to appall the stoutest heart. The fire shot across the town and the people fled inall directions. They ran wherever they thought they could find refuge. A large number ran into a pond, some three or four acres in exten t and three or four feet deep. Men, women and children ran side by side cattle into the pond and crouched close to the water, for the smoke hung low and flames were dangerously close. The largest crowd of people rushed to Grindstone rive r, a small, shallow stream, which it was thought would afford jprotection from ;the flames, but the water was too low, and all the miserable beings perished. There the relief parties found the bodies lying in the water and' rudely trampled by the flying stock. Just as the flames were fiercest a train arrived over the* Eastern Minnesota, and 500 people; clambered aboard. It was a great: Godsend to the people, who offered; up prayers of thankfulness as the; engineer pulled the throttle wide open and sent the train at rapid speed away from the burning town and back to safety in Superior. Another party had rushed for the. Limited on the St. Paul and Duluth,:' but as the fire cut off their way in that direction they ran to a shallow; pohd near by. There, like nits in a; trap, they perished, one and all.’ One hundred and five bodies were removed from the miserable pond byl the relief committee 1 , where they had been literally roasted to death.' There was absolutely no escape. East of the village was a stagnant* pool of rain water. The pit is wide! and deep, and those who trusted, themselves ter its friendly depths* fared better than those who at-; tempted to get away. There were* over one hundred who sought refuge here, and of these only one man is ; known to have died. The immense plant of the Brennan: Lumber Company, with its sawmill,; planing mills, stables, etc., and 28,-i 000,000 feet of pine lumber was* wiped out in less time than it takes* to write it. With the stable were consumed ninety valuable horses. The financial loss to the company alone will reach $500,000, on which there is an insurance of about one- ( half its value. Those who remained in Hinckley will never forget the terrors of that awful night. As the flames subsided; and the shadows of night closed down over the ill-fated town the people left their places of refuge and* made their way over the smoldering, embers through the streets of the village. The fire had spent its force but the ruins still glowed through, the dense cloud of smoke, marking' the spot where a few hours ago were the homes of a prosperous and a happy people. Guided by the weird light, men moved about as if dazed, locating the spots where their homes had stood. The air was filled with; the moaning of the wounded, for whom no assistance could be had,; and with the sobbings of those who lost friends or possessions, or both. When the terrible night was ended and the light of another day dawned* upon the scene of desolation, a few: energetic spirits recovered from the; blow and began to organize for the work of recovering the bodies. Rain set in shortly after noon, which rendered it possible for relief parties to venture into the woods in search of more bodies. It is useless to give the names of the dead and missing. Of the 223 buried here only a small number havq been identified. India has 27,000,000 acres in rice, 18,000,000 in wheat, 75,000,000 in other food grains, 1,000,000 in sugar cane. 251,000 in tea, 10,000,000 in cotton, 1,000,000 in indigo, 300,000 in tobacco. The largest walnut tree ever seen ip this country was found in Leavenworth county, Kan., and taken to the World’s Fair. It was seventyfive feet high, and two car loads of lumber were taken from its limbs alone.