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WOLFPEN
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CHAPTER XIII—Continued
—16—
Instead of waiting at the gate un
til they had passed from sight, Cyn
thia went to the upstairs window
from which she could see over the
barn and orchard to the path
through the Long Bottom, and ns
the Finemare and the mule passed
sw'iftl.v through the meadow and
out of sight, she put her hands on
the window-sill nnd bowed her head
upon them and wept silently in ner
loneliness.
“Mother died in the month of Sep
tember; last month, and It might
have been ali the time there ever
was. And now Jesse awuy for the
winter to study the law. And Reu
ben has not come hack. The end of
July It was, another lifetime. ‘It
may be September, and it may be
spring. . . .’ But It is late October.
Mother is dead. Jesse is gone away,
Reuben has not come hack. It is
not Wolfpen any more( for Wolfpen
Is a good place and this is a place
of sorrow and loneliness. In the
apace of one summer. If Reuben
would come. Reuben, September Is
here and past and taken with It
my mother, and you do not come.
And your two letters . . she went
to the bureau drawer in her room
and took them again, knowing full
well each word In the thin precise
writing with the perfection of print.
“. . . and my father has accepted
the office of surveyor for the East
ern Iron Works and I am to do
most of the field work. The com
pany has bought several thousand
acres of land around here because
of the ore pockets and the char
I coal timber. I am beginning the sur
t veys this week and will be in the
field most of the autumn but It will
not stand in the way of my coming
to Wolfpen as soon as I can. . . .”
The other one she knew so well
that she merely held it in her hands
while she saw the carefully built
sentences march through her mind.
“. . . I have been in the hills west
ef the river for two weeks and just
came in this Saturday and my moth
er gave me your letter. I am sorry
and I had to read several times be
fore I could take in what It was
saying. I liked her so very much.
“She was so quiet and kind and
It seemed to me while I was in her
house that her life was self-con
tained and in order like her fine
garden and her quilts. I can hard
ly think of Wolfpen nor of you or
your father without your mother.
It must be very hard for you. None
of my family has ever died, but I
remember how I liked your way of
thinking of your people in the
graveyard on the Shelf. I hope that
in your grief now you can think of
your mother in .the same way. I
wish I had known so I could have
come. I don’t know just when that
will be now, but it will be . . .”
She thought it was a good letter.
It was like something written in
a book, but It was Iteuben. The
person who wrote was always diff
erent from the person who spoke
to you, and you must grow used to
the difference until you can see the
same person In both. The morning
was gone, and she realized with
surprise that her reluctance to see
Jesse go away for the winter and
her tears for her mother were not
separable from her secret thoughts
of Reuben and that in the end they
had been curiously submerged and
forgotten in him.
In the afternoon Doug came up
the hollow. He looked discouraged.
His eyes were heavy and his mouth
had the pulled appearance of one
who had made hopes too confidently
and had suffered by their defeat.
She felt a sorrow for him akin to
pity.
“How’s your mother today.
Doug?"
“About as well as common. How
are all your folks?"
“All well. Jesse went over to town
today. He’s going to read the law
with Tandy Morgan this winter."
“He has a good turn for follow
ing something like that. I guess he
ought to make about as good a one
as Tandy. I didn’t take to books
much. Seems like I wasn’t cut out
for lawyering or doctoring or sur
veying but just to be a Gannon
Creek farmer, and not so good at
that, ’pears like."
‘Now, don't you go to making lit
tle of yourself,” Cynthia said.
“A feller loses all heart, Cynthia.
I’ve worked harder and done about
as poorly this year as ever since I
been trying to run the place.’’
“Didn't they buy your ’seng,
Doug?”
“I didn't have any, only about
four pounds.”
“Why, Doug!”
The mice chewed It up, Cynthia.
They hackled purt’ near every single
root, and it was a fine lot I had.”
“I'm awful sorry, Doug. How’s
your other stuff?"
‘‘I got a right good crop of corn
and beans."
“Ours did right well, too."
There were pauses now between
the bits of talk.
“I'm goinjj to work, cut timber
witli Shellenberger this winter.
They’re getting a sight of cutting
done down there."
“I havn't been down there. I
don’t want to see it.”
There was a silence, the small
talk ended. The mention of the
lumber camp had driven Cynthia's
thought inward so that site forgot
Doug for a time until she was
pulled into it again by tile sudden
explosive shock of his words:
“Let’s us get married, Cynthia.
What do you say?”
She looked full at him for a min
ute, feeling sorry for him. She
knew that she had never loved him.
and that she could not marry and
live witli him. It was difficult to
say It in words which would tell
him without wounding him.
“I like you, Doug. I've always
liked you since we were little. And
we all like you. But I couldn’t, you
see. Doug, it’s Just that I don’t
love you that way."
She was afraid, even while she
was speaking, that he wasn't un
derstandlng.
He had never touched her In his
shy. Indirect love-making, but now
bis emotions were too wrought on
by her nearness and the sense of
her withdrawing more than ever
and Irrevocably from him. He
sprang upon the porch and swept
her violently into his arms. His
movements were so sudden and so
unexpected that she was bewildered
for a moment and tie held her so
firmly that she could not move. He
did not try to kiss her. He merely
put his cheek against her head and
brushed his Ups against her hair.
It lasted for only an instant, and
she sprang away, freeing herself.
“Doug! You stop! What’s come
over you?”
“I want you for myself. You’re
aiming to marry that feller, ain’t
you? I know. He’s a surveyor and
has down-river manners, and I’m
Just a Gannon Creek farmer. Well,
he won’t get you. You hear me? He
won’t get you.”
His outbreak was as much of a
surprise to himself as to Cynthia.
“Don’t you touch me again, Doug I"
she cried.
He paused, breaking the passion
engendered by his hot words, and
the heat went out of him before her.
“1 ought not have done that. I
reckon it Just kind of did Itself.
But I meant my words."
He stepped down from the porch
and walked with long fast strides
across the yard to the paling fence
where his mule was tied. He mount
ed in one long rythmic leap, and
loped down the creek out of sight
while Cynthia stood with her stupe
faction by the kitchen door whither
she had retreated. Then she felt
weak in an unfamiliar world, and
she ran into the weaving-room and
threw herself upon a pile of raw
wool and for the second time In the
same day she wept.
“Why did he have to come today?”
When Sparrel came in late from
the trip to town he found Cynthia
waiting his supper as Julia had al
ways done. He also observed that
she looked weary and sad nnd that
her eyes were red. He talked more
than usual to her, complimenting
her cooking, telling her of the Jour
ney, of Jesse s room. Then he went
to his desk by the big fireplace, and
took from his pocket a large enve
lope and began to study it.
“Reuben’s father sent the deeds
aud the calculations," he said.
CHAPTER XIV
CYNTHIA had often In these
months contrasted her father
with Shellenberger. Sparrel, honest
in himself and generous in assum
ing the same qualities in other peo
ple, inspired instantly a sense of se
curity and faith in the rightness of
things; like the jutting Pinnacle on
his place. Shellenberger, with all
his good speech and manners, left
an Impression of uncertainty and
suggested that things which should
be assumed us ordered and fixed
were precarious and sinister; like a
pair of fox eyes discovered focused
upon you in a clump of bushes.
So it was with a quickened sense
that she heard Sparrel saying to
Shellenberger that the surveyors
hud got the land mapped and cal
culated and the deeds made out
ready to sign.
"So they’re all done, are they? [
That's good/’
“All complete they are, except the
place where the terms of sale are
put down, it's left blank for us to
fill in.”
“All right. How much was there
of it?”
They figured the whole place has
six thousand two hundred and ten
acres, more or less.”
“How much in my part?" Shellen
berger asked.
“I haven’t looked at that part
yet,” Sparrel said.
“Well, you give me the papers
and I’ll go over them today and
well sjgn them up.”
Sparrel handed him the docu
ments.
In the evening after supper he
sat with Sparrel In the big kitchen
by the smoldering logs.
“They did a good piece of work,
and clear and all there. He figures
there are four thousand two hun
dred and fifty-one ncres in the strip
I bought,” Shellenberger said.
"I calculated there’d be around
four thousand acres more or less,”
Sparrel said.
"Warren has left blank a space
for writing in the contract, so I
suppose we might as well begin to
talk details of settlement,” Shel
lenberger said.
"Yes,” Sparrel said.
“Four thousand two hundred and
fifty-one acres at five dollars an
acre would be, let's see, five ones
are five, five fives are twenty
five . . . twenty thousand two hun
dred and fifty-five dollars I make it."
"Twenty-one thousand two hun
dred and fifty-five dollars," Sparrel
said, “one to carry."
"So it is. Twenty-one thousand
two hundred and fifty-five dollars,
but it’s about four thousand too
much. The surveyor’s bill is five
hundred and thirty dollars.”
Sparrel offered no comment.
"Now about the terms of the con
tract," Shellenberger said. "On
sales like this It Is customary to
pay so much down and agree on a
way of carrying the balance. 1 take
it that is all right with you?"
"I reckon that’s all right," Spar
rel said.
“Suppose then that we agree to
this: I’ll arrange to pay you, sny,
forty-five hundred dollars now,
twenty-five hundred dollars about
the first of the year, and the bal
ance when I get the logs down the
river to the mills?”
"I reckon if that’s the way you
do in big deals like this, it will be
all right. We’ll Just write In that
agreement," Sparrel said.
“I’ll have to go down the river
in h few days.” Shellenberger said,
"und if we could go over to I’lke
He Sprang Upon the Porch and
Swept Her Violently Into His
Arms.
ville together we could have It wit
nessed and notaried, and I’ll draw
a check on the Catlettsburg bank
for the amount. I'll pay Warren
while I’m down there.”
Cynthia had finished her wrork,
and she stole quietly out of the
kitchen and into Julia’s room and
sat down in Julia's chair by the
window to look down the hollow
In the dark us Julia had so often
done, thinking. “So the sale ends
and all the months since April have
gone by and the menfolk write
what they’re supposed to write to
mnke It on paper. They’re always
putting things down on paper, as if
that made it any different, and then
they forget about what it really is.
“And Mother lies there on the
Shelf with Saul and Barton and
the rest where the stars are dim
tonight, and across the ridge are
all the men for cutting down the
trees to tioat away when spring
comes, the way ltenben floated
away that morning. 'Bears Jike
Wolfpen has just become a place
for u body to float away und not
live in, Keuben and Jesse ami
Mother and the land and the trees,
maybe me, I could float away now
and not miss things so much.”
At the end of the week Sparrel
rode with Shellenberger over to
town to sign the papers and file
them with the county recorder. He
brought back word from Jesse. He
was proud of his son in the law
for he was doing well, his heart
in his work, and he was aglow with
his young enthusiasm and there was
an Inspired look in tils eyes. Tandy
Morgan, large. Jovial, easy-going
Tandy had praised Jesse to Spar
rel. “That boy of yours has got
a head on him, Sparrel. He beats
all I ever saw the way he takes to
the law. I’m going to take him into
court to help me with cases, come
next term." Sparrel liked that, and
told it to Cynthia when he re
turned.
“I always knew Jesse would do
well at whatever he was minded to
follow,” Cynthia said.
“They say the school is doing
right well tills term under the new
principal. I was just thinking,"
Sparrel said, “you might just as
well as not go over and get in the
second term."
“No, I can't this year now," Cyn
thia said.
“We could get a woman to come
lu nows” Sparrel said.
"1 don't fancy a strange person
taking over the house. There’s al
ways been a l*attern woman to do
the woman’s part in the house. 1
don’t think Mother would want
Amy Wooton or somebody messing
around her closets and beds and
kitchen and smoke-house and fruit
shelves and milk cellnr. It's too
soon, yet. Maybe next year with
Jasper getting married and all."
“You're the doctor,” he snld.
“I read the books on the shel*
and the papers that come. And,
anyway, I am about of the mind
that to run a house like this the
way Mother did It is Just as good
us the hook learning over at town."
“Unless you have a real turn for
books."
“It takes a real turn for a house,
too."
“Spurrel left It there, glad of
her pride in the house, lie took the
bank hook from his pocket and
held it near the light for a long
time.
"That looks pretty good, I
reckon.
Cynthia examined the single entry
of $4,500 in the neat banker's hand.
“is that all there Is to it?" she
exclaimed.
i mu s an.
She could not somehow get used
to it. Through the days it moveu
in and out of her thought.
“Four figures in a little thin
scrap of a book. That's all there is
to it. Four figures In Ink. It don’t
seem right. The Pattern land sold,
a bunch of strange men from down
the river in here chopping down
the place, everything changed right
around until n body don’t know
whether she is living on Wolfpen
or in a lumber camp, and all it mat
ters to the menfolk Is some
scratches on a thin little scrap of a
book with a brown back to it.’’
f
Sparrel was not so busy at thq
mill after early November. He went
less often to the logging camp and
found more content in being near
the house. He seemed to her more
like the Sparrel of a year ago when
the new mill wns being planned,
only he wns graver now. He was
doing things that gave a satisfaction
deeper than the physical act of do
ing. He spent an entire day going
over the loom, replacing and tight
ening loose threads, and greasing
the treads. He pegged the boards
in the floor which had come loose.
He brought snwed lumber from the
mill and built the new row of
shelves In the smoke-house. A little
shyly he gathered up the seeds from
Julia's flowers and put them In la
beled Jars as she had always done,
saying to Cynthia:
“I reckon we'd better put these
away for seed. It wouldn’t seem
natural not to have the flowers
around the place.”
Then he gave the garden Its coat
of cow dung and its fall plowing,
turning it carefully In deep narrow
furrows and harrowing It until It
lay soft, mellow and without clods.
And so he worked about the place
for many days until Cynthia thought
for a moment that past days of
peace had returned to Wolfpen.
It was only for a moment. Then
Abral came at the end of a wet
and misty afternoon, out of breath
with running, bearing the news
about Doug. Sparrel was In the
medicine-room behind the chimney.
Cynthia was In the kitchen listen
ing:
The lumbering had moved relent
lessly up the Dry Creek Hollow. As
the great trees fell, they were col
lected and dragged down to the
creek by the mules and the yoked
oxen. Now, at the end of November,
they were far up into the narrow
portion of the hollow and beyond
the floating capacity of the creek.
Mullens constructed a narrow tram
road around the rim of the hollow
to carry the logs to the dam at
Gannon Creek. They were snaked
down from the hill to the rude plat
form and there rolled onto the log
trucks. The track sloped rather
sharply down the hollow, giving to
the trucks considerable speed un
der their own momentum. At the
last bend opening into the mouth
of the hollow at Gannon, the tracks
curved abruptly and plunged down
the slope to the dam. One man rode
at the end of each truck to apply
the brakes and bring the load of
three logs to a halt at the collect
ing point. The men grew reckless
and Increased the speed. They
drank.
Doug nan grown rash In their
company. lie talked more and bold
er. Lie drank with them from the
Jug behind the bushes. That after
noon he pushed the wood blocks
from their place under the wheels
of the loaded truck and gave it a
sharp urge with the crowbar. Stand
ing on the narrow platform by the
brake, he waved his hat at the lum
bermen, and as the load of logs
gathered speed he shouted, "This’ll
be a record.” The two logs on the
bottom were thick and very heavy,
the third and top one was thin, not
straight and of little value. Doug
held to It, letting the truck go its
way untouched by the brake.
(TO HE CONTINUED)
Many Stone Blocks in Pyramid
About two and a half million huge
stone blocks were used In building
the famous pyramid of Cheops in
Egypt.
HOj#>RE
youytfcay
/ DR. JAMES W. BARTON
Talk* About ®
Underweight Children.
IN AN examination of a number
* of children in the public or gram
mar schools it was found that the
number of underweights was re
duced by supplying milk at the
school at least once a day. In the
high schools where no milk was sup
plied the gain in weight for height
and age was not so satisfactory.
While this habit of supplying ex
Dr. Barton
tra milk for school
children is excellent
there is often physi
cal defects and bad
health habits that
are undermining the
youngsters’ health,
and these must be
corrected if perma
nent results are to
be obtained. A
youngster that plays
all the time and is
too tired to eat and
digest his food prop
orly may be keeping his weight low
just as can a youngster who doesn't
get outdoors at all, and has no appe
tite for his food. Infected teeth or
tonsils, a nose that is blocked and
preventing proper breathing, round
shoulders, and other physical de
fects all prevent proper growth and
development.
Dr. W. R. P. Emerson in "Ar
chives of Pediatrics" says: "The es
sentials for good nutrition and nor
mal physical and mental develop
ment are; (1) freedom from physi
cal defects, (2) adequate food. (3)
free air, (4) sufficient exercise, and
(5) proper rest. From a survey of
a large number of children of pre
school (three to six years) and
school ages it was found that each
child had an average of 4V4 physi
cal defects and 6 faulty eating hab
its. Of a group of 1,000 children
only 2 per cent (20 in the whole
1,000) were found to be free from
physical defects."
"The most frequent defects are
obstruction of the nose, bad teeth,
diseases of various organs, and pos
tural conditions (round shoulders,
sway back, spinal curvature), which
were either the result or partly the
causes of the underweight and un
derdevelopment."
Physicians are agreed that attain
ing the proper weight for any young
ster’s particular type of body or
physique will mean "improvement
in mental development, increased
efficiency, and increased resistance
to disease.”
The treatment of underweight in
children then should be from the
various standpoints outlined above
which means, first, the removal of
defects and bad health habits, and
second, plenty of fresh air, plenty
of good food and plenty of rest
• • •
The Family Physician.
There was a time when the "out
standing" doctor of a community
was supposed to be very silent, very
gruff, having no patience with the
patient who wanted to tell him all
about his sickness. It was felt that
he knew so much that just a glance
at his patient and the .aking of
pulse and temperature was all that
he needed to know what was wrong
and how to treat it.
Fortunately the real family physi
cian was not of this type, but a real
all-round friend of the family who
had all the affairs of the family on
his mind and tried to help whenever
and wherever possible.
And then came the "hospital"
type of physician who took samples
of blood, urine, sputum, used the
X-ray and other types of examina
tion possible in the hospital, and
after waiting the hours and days
necessary for these examinations to
be completed, told the patient and
the patient’s family exactly what
was wrong.
Now it is only good sense for the
doctor to get all the help possible
from the hospital’s laboratories, be
cause this will be of help to the
patient; but the up-to-date doctor,
the successful physician now real
izes more than ever before that
more than a knowledge of medi
cine, more than the findings from
the laboratory are necessary if the
patient is to get the best possible
treatment.
Humanism Is Needed.
Dr. Oscar Klotz in addressing the
Toronto Academy of Medicine
states: "In the practice of medi
cine the physician is called upon to
use his every effort and equipment
to learn the cause of the ailment and
its treatment. He is often called
upon to strain the last resources
known to science to attain a satis
factory result. But over and above
all these scientific endeavors, aided
by all the available skill, there is
need of a very commonplace at
tribute of man best spoken of as
humanism—love and understanding
of your fellow man. There is need
of a sympathetic understanding
which serves to support the courage
of the patient, an appreciation of
the mental and spiritual reactions
of the sick, often determined by
their surroundings and made worse
by the poverty and distress of other
members of the family. The full
understanding of ‘humanism’ in
medicine is acquired through vary
ing circumstances of life and is at
tained in greatest measure by the
family or general physician, rather
than by the specialist.”
©— WNU Service.
Tables Turned
By VIC YARDMAN
C Associated Newspapers.
WNU Service.
FLIRTING was second nature
" with Deborah Bellamy. No one
would have guessed, after one
glance at her gay, laughing face,
after one look into her mocking,
tantalizing eyes, that inwardly she
was afraid. Afraid that sometime
some one of her victims was going
to turn the tables. That is to say,
she knew that ore day she was
going to fall in love wi.h one of the
men with whom she flirted. She
knew this and yet she never
dreamed that this man would prove
to be a crude, uneducated cowboy,
named Lon Fairweather.
Deborah had joined a party who
planned a month's vacation at a
dude ranch in Wyoming. Lon was
the foreman in charge of looking out
for the guests. He was tall, fair,
handsome and built like an Adonis.
After one look into his sober blue
eyes, Deborah began to lay her
snares. Here was someone dif
ferent. a change from the monotony
of pink-tea men she'd known back
in New York.
Lon was different, but he was
also human. Just as human as the
pink-tea men who composed Deb
orah’s long list of previous victims.
Hence he succumbed to her wiles,
just as had the others. The night
that Lon told Deborah of his love
they were seated on a high boulder
overlooking a hemmed - in lake,
above which a full moon came glid
ing toward them.
"Oh, Lon,” she said a little
breathlessly. "Not now . . . this
. . Give me a little time to
think."
She pushed him away and ran
up the path toward the ranch house.
In the days that followed, despite
her greatest endeavors Lon per
sisted in occupying her thoughts.
Somewhat in desperation she cast
about for escape. And then a plan
come to mind. She’d ask him to
come to New York.
The idea seemed a good one and
strangely enough Lon agreed to
come— in the fall when the ranch
was closed up for the winter.
And so Deborah left him, feeling
queer, the drawl of his voice in
her ears, a picture of his sun
bronzed face in her heart.
Fall came, and she planned a
party, a sort of reception for Lon.
She invited all those who had been
at the Double Q Bar that summer.
Lon arrived in due time and called
at Deborah’s apartment. She was
a little taken back at the ease and
grace with which he wore his smart
new tuxedo, and in spite of her
self she thrilled when he swept her
into his arms.
The dinner was set for eight. At
7:30 the guests began to arrive. Lon
arched his brows in faint surprise
when he saw that the men wore
chaps and high-heeled boots and
sombreros and checkered shirts;
that the women were garbed in
divided riding skirts and gay-colored
blouses. But no word passed h i s
lips. There was no sign that he
noticed, none save the merest of
twinkles in his blue eyes.
A butler came to the door and
yelled: "Come and get it, cowboy!”
Lon’s eyes twinkled again, and he
offered Deborah his arm in quite a
courtly fashion. The others rushed
pellmell to the table.
ucooran ieu a uiue uneasy as
Lon escorted her to her seat. Her
uneasiness grew as he looked slight
ly puzzled upon discovering there
was no silverware at his place save
a broad-bladed knife. He hesitated,
watching in amazement as the other
guests picked up their knives, and
with suppressed chuckles began to
scoop up peas and shove them into
their mouths. He watched as they
poured coffee from their cups and
drank from their saucers. Then
his mouth set in a grim line, and
a cold flinty light came into his
eyes. He stood up.
"I understand,” he said, looking
directly at Deborah, "exactly what
you’re trying to do. And I regret I
can’t appreciate the humor of the
thing. You see,” he added, smiling
a little, "we Westerners have had
it drilled into us ever so many
times by you Easterners, that we’re
crude and ignorant and have no
manners; that you folks are su
perior in every way. I know all
that, and have always tried to bear
it in mind. I’ve always tried to
follow your code when, like tonight,
I am your guest. But,” he paused
and made a little, perfunctory bow
toward Deborah. "Now I know
something else; know that whatever
other manner you folks might have,
you don’t know the meaning of hos
pitality.”
And with this he carefully placed
his napkin on the table, pushed back
his chair and strode from the room.
He had reached the front hall when
Deborah suddenly came to herself
and rushed after him.
"Lon! Lon!” she called. "Please
come back. It was all my fault.
I’m sorry. Please!”
But Lon was already through the
door and halfway down the stairs.
Above, on the landing Deborah
stood as if dazed. There was a
terrible gnawing sensation inside of
her, a great, desolate, miserable
feeling. She knew then that Lon
Fairweather had been the man she
was afraid of meeting. She knew it
now, but too late. Lon had gone.
And Deborah knew he’d never come
back. Lon had turned the tables.
She was the victim, no longer the
victor.
Frisky Scotties for
Your Tea Towel Set
Pattern 1228
No need for Scottie to teach her
puppy new tricks—he’s up to them
already! And what a joyous set
of motifs with which to cheer the
towels that serve for heaviest
kitchen duty. There are seven of
them, and see what simple cross
stitch 'tis, with crosses an easy 8
to the inch! Done all in one color,
they’ll make smart silhouettes
'gainst the whiteness of your tea
towels. Send for the pattern! Pat
tern 1228 contains a transfer pat
tern of seven motifs (one for each
day of the week) averaging about
5 by 8 inches; material require
ments; illustrations of all stitches
needed.
Send 15 cents in stamps or coins
(coins preferred) for this pattern
to The Sewing Circle Needlecraft
Dept., 82 Eighth Ave., New York
N. Y.
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Get Quick-Dissolving Bayer
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In 2 Seconds by
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la 3 aeconda by atop
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atarta to dlalntegrate
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15C roe
A DOZEN
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LOOK FOR THE SKYER CROSS
As a Stream
A man may be slow and dull and
still not shallow.
Don*t Sleep
When Gas
Presses Heart
to do it by Just doctoring your itomich
with harsh, Irritating alkalles and gas
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If your constipation la of long stand
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_ is not habit forming. Leading
Druggists.
WNU—U 44~3ft
When
nare advertised
them either
the merchant
.ail, and then
merchandise.
Like it, from
il merchants.
