\"I’mnohandatanyworkoutsidethehouse，\"sheobserved，asifreflecting。\"IcantruthfullysayI’magoodcook，andhaveagreatfacultyformakingalittlegoalongways。\"（Sheconsideredthisamaster—stroke，andinfactitwas；fortheDeacon’smouthabsolutelywateredatthisapparentlyunconsciouscomprehensionofhisdisposition。）\"ButI’mnohandatanychoresinthebarnorshed，\"shecontinued。\"Myfirsthusbandwouldneverallowmetodothatkindofwork。\"
\"PerhapsIcouldgitaboytohelpout；I’vebeenkindo’
thinkin’o’thatlately。WhatwageswouldyouexpectifIpaidaboyfortheroughwork？\"askedtheDeacontremulously。\"Well，totellthetruth，Idon’tquitefancytheideaoftakingwages。
JudgeDickinsonwantsmetogotoAlfredandhousekeepforhim，andI’dnamedtwelvedollarsamonth。It’sgoodpay，andI
haven’tsaid’No’；butmyrentissmallhere，I’mmyownmistress，andIdon’tfeellikegivingupmyprivileges。\"
\"Twelvedollarsamonth！\"Hehadneverthoughtofapproachingthatsum；andhesawtheheapofunwasheddishesgrowingdaybyday，andthecreamsouringonthemilk—pans。Suddenlyanideasprangfull—bornintotheDeacon’smind（JedMorrill’s\"OldDriver\"musthavebeencloseathand！）。WouldJaneTillmanmarryhim？Nowomaninthethreevillageswouldbemoreobnoxioustohisdaughters；thatinitselfwasadistinctgain。Shewasafine，robustfigureofawomaninherearlyforties，andhethought，afterall，thatthehollow—chested，spindle—shankedkindweremoreex—pensivetofeed，onthewhole，thantheirbetter—paddedsisters。Hehadneverhadanydifficultyinmanagingwives，andthoughthimselfquiteequaltoonemorebout，evenatsixty—five，thoughhehadjustthefaintestsuspicionthatthehighcoloronMrs。Tillman’sprominentcheek—bones，thevigorshowninthecoarseblackhairandhandsomeeyebrows，mightmakethistaskalittlemoredifficultthanhispreviousones。
Butthisfearvanishedalmostasquicklyasitappeared，forhekeptsayingtohimself：\"AjudgeoftheCountyCourtwantsherattwelvedollarsamonth；hadn’tIbetterbidhighan’gitsettled？
\"Ifyou’dliketohaveahomeo’yourown’thoutpayin’rent，you’veonlygottosaythewordan’I’llmakeyouMis’Baxter，\"
saidtheDeacon。\"There’llbenobodytointerferewithyou，an’ahandsomelegacyifIdiefirst；fornoneo’myfewsavin’sisgoin’tomydaughters，Icanpromiseyouthat！\"
TheDeaconthrewoutthistemptingbaitadvisedly，foratthismomenthewouldhavepouredhishoardintothelapofanywomanwhowouldhelphimtoavengehisfanciedwrongs。
Thiswasinformation，indeed！The\"fewsavings\"alludedtoamountedtosomethousands，JaneTillmanknew。Hadshenotbetterburnhershipsbehindher，taketherisks，andhavefaithinherownpowers？Shewasgettingalonginears，andhercharmsofpersonwerelesseningwitheverydaythatpassedoverherhead。
IftheDeacon’squeerwaysgrewtooqueer，shethoughtanappealtothedoctorandtheministermightprovideawayofescapeandaneatlittleincometoboot；so，onthewhole，themarriage，thoughmuchagainsthernaturalinclinations，seemedtobeprovidentiallyarranged。
Theinterviewthatsucceeded，haditbeenreportedverbatim，deservedtoberecordedinlocalhistory。DeaconBaxterhadmetinJaneTillmanafoemanmorethanworthyofhissteel。Shewasjustascraftyashe，andingeneralshipasmuchsuperiortohimasNapoleonBonapartetoCephasCole。Herknowledgeofandherexperienceswithmen，allveryhumble，itistrue，butdecidedlyvaried，enabledhertoplayoneveryweaknessofthisparticularoneshehadinhand，andatthesametimeskilfullytoavoidedalarminghim。
Heretofore，thewomenwithwhomtheDeaconhadcomeincontacthadtimidlysteeredawayfromtherocksandreefsinhisnature，andhadbeentooignorantortooproudtolookamongthemforcertainsofterplacesthatwerelikelytobethere——sincemanisman，afterall，evenwhenheismadeonaverysmallpattern。
IfJaneTillmanbecameMrs。Baxter，sheintendedtogetthewhiphandandkeepit；butnothingwasfurtherfromherintentionthantomaketheDeaconmiserableifshecouldhelpit。Thatwasnotherdisposition；andso，whenthedeludedmanleftherhouse，hehadmademoreconcessionsinasinglehourthaninalltheformeryearsofhislife。
Hisfuturespousewastowriteoutalittlepaperforhissignature；justafriendlylittlepapertobekeptquiteprivateandconfidentialbetweenthemselves，statingthatshewastodonoworkoutsideofthehouse；thatherpensionwastobeherown；
thatshewastohavefivedollarsincashonthefirstofeverymonthinlieuofwages；andthatineaseofhisdeathoccurringfirstshewastohaveathirdofhisestate，andthewholeofitifatthetimeofhisdeceasehewasstillpleasedwithhisbargain。TheonlypointsinthiscontractthattheDeaconreallyunderstoodwerethathewaspayingonlyfivedollarsamonthforahousekeepertowhomajudgehadofferedtwelve；that，ashehadexpectedtopayatleasteight，hecouldgetaboyfortheremainingthree，andsobenonetheworseinpocket；also，thatifhecouldkeephisdaughtersfromgettinghismoney，hedidn’tcareahangwhohadit，ashehatedthewholehumanracewithentireimpartiality。IfJaneTillmandidn’tbehaveherself，hehadpleasingvisionsofconvertingmostofhisfortuneintocashandhavingitdroppedoffthebridgesomedarknight，whenthedoctorhadgivenhimupandprovedtohissatisfactionthatdeathwouldoccurinthenearfuture。
Allthisbeingharmoniouslysettled，theDeacondroveaway，andcausedtheannouncementofhisimmediatemarriagetobeposteddirectlybelowthatofWaitstillandIvoryBoynton。
\"Mightaswellhaveallthefatinthefiretoonce，\"hechuckled。\"Therewon’tbeanyhouse—workdoneinthispartofthecountyforaweektocome。Ifweshouldhavemoresnow，nobody’llhavetodoanyshovellin’，forthewomen—folks’llkeepallthepathsinthevillagetroddownfromdoortodoor，travellin’
roundwiththenews。\"
A\"spitematch，\"thecommunityingeneralcalledtheDeacon’smarriage；andmanyaman，andmanyawoman，too，regardingtheamazingpublishingnoticeintheframeupatthemeeting—house，feltthatinJaneTillmanDeaconBaxterhadmethisWaterloo。
\"She’splentygoodenoughforhim，\"saidAuntAbbyCole，\"thoughIknowthat’saterriblepoorcompliment。Ifshethinksshe’lleverbreakintos’cietyhereattheFalls，she’llfindherselfmistaken！It’samysterytomewhythepoordeludedmaneverdoneit；butain’titwonderfultheingenuitytheLordshowsinpunishin’sinners？Icouldn’t’a’thoughtoutsuchagoodcomeuppancemyselfforDeaconBaxter，asmarryin’JaneTillman！
Thethingthattroublesmemost，isthinkin’howtickledtheBaptists’11betogitherouto’theirmeetin’an’intoourn！\"
XXXV
TWOHEAVENS
ATtheverymomentthatDeaconBaxterwasIstartingoutonhisquestforahousekeeper，PattyandMarkdroveintotheMasondooryardandthesistersflewintoeachother’sarms。ThedressthatMarkhadboughtforPattywastheusualchartingandunsuitableofferingofaman’sspontaneousaffection，beingofdarkvioletclothwithawaddedcapelinedwithsatin。Alittlebrimmedhatofvioletvelvettiedunderherchinwithsilkribbonscompletedthecostume，andbeforetheyouthfulbrideandgroomhadlefttheancestraldoorMrs。Wilsonhadhungherownerminevictorine（theenvyofallEdgewood）aroundPatty’sneckandputhererminewillowmuffintohernewdaughter’shands；
thusshewasasdazzlingapersonage，andasimproperlydressedforthejourney，asshecouldwellbe。
Waitstill，inherplainlinsey—woolsey，wasentrancedwithPatty’sbeautyandelegance，andthetwogirlshadafewminutesofsisterlytalk，ofinterchangeofradianthopesandconfidencesbeforeMarktorethemapart，theircheekswetwithhappytears。
AstheMasonhousefadedfromview，Pattyhavingwavedhermuffuntilthelastmoment，turnedinherseatandsaid：——
\"Mark，dear，doyouthinkyourfatherwouldcareifIspentthetwenty—dollargold—piecehegaveme，forWaitstill？Shewillbemarriedinafortnight，andifmyfatherdoesnotgiveherthefewthingssheownsshewillgotoherhusbandmoreill—providedeventhanIwas。Ihavesomuch，dearMark，andshesolittle。\"
\"It’syourownwedding—presenttouseasyouwish，\"Markanswered，\"andit’sexactlylikeyoutogiveitaway。Goaheadandspenditifyouwantto；Icanalwaysearnenoughtokeepyou，withoutanybody’shelp！\"andMark，aftercrackingthewhipvaingloriously，kissedhiswifejustoverthevioletribbons，andwithsleigh—bellsjinglingtheyspedoverthesnowtowardswhatseemedParadisetothem，theNewHampshirevillagewheretheyhadbeenmarriedandwhereSoafewdayslater，Waitstillreceivedagreatparcelwhichrelievedherofmanyfeminineanxietiesandshebegantoshapeandcutandstitchduringallthehoursshehadtoherself。Theywerenotmany，foreverydayshetrudgedtotheBoyntonfarmandbeganwithyouthfulenthusiasmthehouseholdtasksthatweresosoontobehersbyright。
\"Don’twastetoomuchtimeandstrengthhere，mydearest，\"saidIvory。\"DoyousupposeforamomentIshallkeepyoulongonthislonelyfarm？IamreadyforadmissiontotheBarorIamfittedtoteachinthebestschoolinNewEngland。Nothinghasheldmeherebutmymother，andinherpresentconditionofmindwecansafelytakeheranywhere。Wewillneverlivewheretherearesomanymemoriesandassociationstosaddenandhamperus，butgowherethebestopportunityoffers，andassoonasmaybe。Mywifewillbeapearlofgreatprice，\"headdedfondly，andIintendtoprovidearightsettingforher！\"
Thiswasallsaidinaglowofloveandjoy，prideandambition，asIvorypacedupanddownbeforetheliving—roomfireplacewhileWaitstillwashangingthefreshlylaunderedcurtains。
Ivorywasright；WaitstillBaxterwas，indeed，ajewelofawoman。Shehadlittleknowledge，butmuchwisdom，andafterall，knowledgestandsfortheleavesonatreeandwisdomforthefruit。Therewasinfiniterichnessinthegirl，arichnessthathadbeengrowingandripeningthroughtheyearsthatshethoughtsograyandwasted。Thefewbookssheownedandlovedhadgenerallylainunopened，itistrue，uponherbedroomtable，andsheheldherselfashavingfartoolittlelearningtobeaworthycompanionforIvoryBoynton；butallthebeautyandcheeracomfortthatcouldeverbepressedintothearidlifeoftheBaxterhouseholdhadcomefromWaitstill’sheart，andthathearthadgrowninwarmthandplentyyearbyyear。
Thoselonelytasks，toohardforagirl’shands，thoseunrewardeddrudgeries，thosedaysoffaithfullaborinandoutofdoors，thoseeveningsofself—sacrificeoverthemending—basket；thequietavoidanceofallthatmightvexherfather’scrustytemper，herpatiencewithhismiserlyexactions；thehourlyholdingbackofthehastyword，——allthesehadplayedtheirpart；allthesehadbeensomehowweldedintoastrong，sunny，steady，life—wisdom，thereisnobetternameforit；andsoshehadunconsciouslythebestofallharveststobringasdowertoahusbandwhowasworthyofher。Ivory’sstrengthcalledtohersandansweredit，justashisgreatneedawokesuchapowerofhelpfulnessinherasshedidnotknowshepossessed。Shelovedtheman，butshelovedthetaskthatbeckonedher，too。Thevisionofitwaslikethebreathofwindfromahill—top，puttingsaltandsavorintothenewlifethatopenedbeforeher。
Thesewerequietlyhappydaysatthefarm，forMrs。Boyntontookanew，iftransient，holduponlifethatdeceivedeventhedoctor。RodmanwasnearlyasardentaloverasIvory，hoveringaboutWaitsillandexclaiming，\"Youneverstaytosupperandit’ssolonesomeeveningswithoutyou！WillitneverbetimeforyoutocomeandEvewithus，Waitydear？Thedayscrawlsoslowly！\"AtwhichIvorywouldlaugh，pushhimawayanddrawWaitstillnearertohisownside，saying：\"Ifyouareinahurry，youyoungcormorant，whatdoyouthinkofme？\"AndWaitstillwouldlookfromonetotheotherandblushattheheavenoflovethatsurroundedheroneveryside。
\"Ibelieveyouarelongingtobeginonmycooking，youtwobiggreedyboys！\"shesaidteasingly。\"WhatshallwehaveforNewYear’sdinner，Rod？Doyoulikeaturkey，roastedbrownandcrispy，withgibletgravyandcranberryjelly？Doyoufancyanappledumplingafterwards，——anappledumplingwithpotatocrust，——orwillyouhaveasuetpuddingwithfoamysauce？\"
\"Stop，Waitstill！\"criedIvory。\"Don’tputhopeintousuntilyouarereadytosatisfyit；wecan’tbearit！\"
\"AndIhaveaboxofgoodiesfrommyowngardensafelystowedawayinUncleBart’sshop，\"Waitstillwentonmischievously。
\"TheyweretobesoldinPortland，butIthinkthey’llhavetobemywedding—presenttomyhusband，thoughaverystrangeone，indeed！Therearepeachesfloatinginsweetsyrup；therearetumblersofquincejelly；therearejarsoftomatoandcitronpreserves，andforsupperyoushalleatthemwithbiscuitsaslightasfeathersandwhiteassnowdrifts。\"
\"Wecanneverwaittwomoredays，Rod；letuskidnapher！Letustaketheoldbob—sledandrunovertoNewHampshirewhereonecanbemarriedtheminuteonefeelslikeit。Wecoulddoitbetweensunriseandmoonriseandbeathomeforalatesupper。Wouldshebetootiredtobakethebiscuitsforus，doyouthink？Whatdoyousay，Rod，willyoubebestman？\"Andtherewouldbeyouthful，unaccustomedlaughterfloatingoutfromthekitchenorliving—room，bringingasmileofcontenttoLoisBoynton’sfaceasshelayproppedupinbedwithheropenBiblebesideher。\"Hebindsupthebroken—hearted，\"shewhisperedtoherself。\"Hegivesuntothemagarlandforashes；theoilofjoyformourning；thegarmentofpraiseforthespiritofheaviness。\"
Thequietweddingwasover。Therehadbeenneitherfeasting，norfinery，norpresents，norbridaljourney；onlyahome—comingthatmeantdeepandsacredajoy，asferventgratitudeasanyfourheartsevercontainedinalltheworld。Butthelaughterceased，thoughthehappinessflowedsilentlyunderneath，almostforgotteninthesuddensorrowthatovercamethem，foritfelloutthatLoisBoyntonhadonlywaited，asitwere，forthemarriage，andcouldstaynolonger。
\"……Therearetwoheavens……
Bothmadeoflove，——one，inconceivableEv’nbytheother，sodivineitis；
Theother，faronthissideofthestars，Bymencalledhome。\"
Andthesetwoheavensmet，overatBoyntons’，duringthesecold，white，glisteningDecemberdays。
LoisBoyntonfoundhersfirst。Afterawindymoonlitnightamorningdawnedinwhichahushseemedtobeontheearth。Thecattlehuddledtogetherinthefarmyardsandthefowlsshrankintotheirfeathers。Theskywasgray，andsuddenlythefirstwhiteheraldscamefloatingdownlikescoutsseekingforpathsandcamping—places。
WaitstillturnedMrs。Boynton’sbedsothatshecouldlookoutofthewindow。Slopeafterslope，dazzlinginwhitecrust，roseoneuponanotherandvanishedastheyslippedawayintothedarkgreenofthepineforests。
Then，\"……therefellfromouttheskiesAfeatherywhitenessoveralltheland；
Astrange，soft，spotlesssomething，pureaslight。\"
Itcouldnotbecalledastorm，fortherehadbeennowindsincesunrise，nowhirlingfury，nodrifting；onlyastill，steady，solemnfallofcrystalflakes，hourafterhour，hourafterhour。
Mrs。Boynton’sBookofbookswasopenonthebedandherfingermarkedapassageinherfavoriteBible—poet。
\"Hereitis，daughter，\"shewhispered。\"Ihavefoundit，inthesamechapterwherethemorningstarssingtogetherandthesonsofGodshoutforjoy。TheLordspeakstoJoboutofthewhirlwindandsays：’HASTTHOUENTEREDINTOTHETREASURESOFTHESNOW？OR
HASTTHOUSEENTHETREASURESOFTHEHAIL？’Sitnearme，Waitstill，andlookoutonthehills。’HASTTHOUENTEREDINTOTHE
TREASURESOFTHESNOW？’No，notyet，butpleaseGod，Ishall，andintomanyothertreasures，soon\"；andsheclosedhereyes。
Alldaylongtheair—wayswerefilledwiththeglitteringarmyofthesnowflakes；alldaylongthesnowgrewdeeperanddeeperontheground；andonthebreathofsomewhite—wingedwonderthatpassedLoisBoynton’swindowherwhitesoulforsookits\"earth—lot\"andtookflightatlast。
Theywatchedbesideher，butneverknewthemomentofhergoing；
itwasjustasilentflitting，aceasingtobe，withoutatremor，oraflutterthatcouldbeseenbymortaleye。Herfacewassolikeanangel’sinitsshiningserenitythatthefewwholovedherbestcouldnotlookuponherwithanythingbutreverentjoy。
Onearthshehadknownnothingbutthe\"brokenarcs，\"butinheavenshewouldfindthe\"perfectround\"；thereatlast，ontheothersideofthestars，shecouldrememberright，poorLoisBoynton！
Forweeksafterwardsthevillagewasshroudedinsnowasithadneverbeenbeforewithinmemory，butineveryhappyhouseholdthehome—lifedeepeneddaybyday。Thebookscameoutinthelongevenings；thegrandsirestoldoldtalesundertheinspirationofthehearth—fire：thechildrengatheredontheirwoodenstoolstoroastapplesandpopcorn；andheartscameclosertogetherthanwhensummercalledthehousematestowanderhereandthereinfieldsandwoodsandbesidetheriver。
OveratBoyntons’，whenthesnowwaswhirlingandthewindhowlingroundthechimneysofthehigh—gabledoldfarmhouse；wheneverywindowhaditsframeofermineandfringeoficicles，andthesleetrattledfuriouslyagainsttheglass，thenIvorywouldthrowagreatbacklogonthebankofcoalsbetweenthefire—dogs，thekettlewouldbegintosing，andtheeatcomefromsomesnugcornertocurlandpurronthebraidedhearth—rug。
Schoolwasinsession，andIvoryandRodhadtheirtextbooksofanevening，butoh！whatanewandstrangejoytostudywhentherewasasweetwomansittingnearwithherworkbasket；awomanwearingashiningbraidofhairasifitwereacoronet；awomanofcleareyesandtenderlips，onewhocouldfeelaswellasthink，onewhocouldbeaman’scomradeaswellashisdearlove。
Trulythesecondheaven，theoneon\"thissideofthestars，bymencalledhome，\"wasverypresentoveratBoyntons’。
Sometimesthebroad—seatedoldhairclothsofawouldbedrawninfrontofthefire，andIvory，layinghispipeandhisGreekgrammaronthetable，wouldtakesomelighterbookandopenitonhisknee。
Waitstillwouldlifthereyesfromhersewingtomeetherhusband’sglancethatspokelongingforherclosercompanionship，andgladlyleavingherwork，andslippingintotheplacebyhisside，shewouldputherelbowonhisshoulderandreadwithhim。
Once，Rod，fromhisplaceatatableontheothersideoftheroom，lookedandlookedatthemwithakindofinstinctbeyondhisyears，andfinallycreptuptoWaitstill，andputtinganarmthroughhers，nestledhiscurlyheadonhershoulderwiththequaintcharmandgracethatbelongedtohim。
Itwasayoungandbeautifulshoulder，Waitstill’s，andtherehadalwaysbeen，andwouldalwaysbe，agraciouscurveinitwhereachild’sheadmightlieincomfort。Presentlywithashypressure，Rodwhispered：\"ShallIsitintheotherroom，WaitstillandIvory？——AmIintheway？\"
Ivorylookedupfromhisbookquietlyshakinghishead，whileWaitstillputherarmaroundtheboyanddrewhimcloser。
\"Ourlittlebrotherisneverintheway，\"shesaid，asshebentandkissedhim。
Menmaycomeandmenmaygo；SacoWaterstilltumblestumultuouslyoverthedamandrushesundertheEdgewoodbridgeonitswaytothesea；andstillitlistenstothestoryofto—daythatwillsometimebethehistoryofyesterday。
OnmidsummereveningsthewindowsoftheoldfarmhouseoveratBoyntons’gleamwithunaccustomedlightsandvoicesbreakthestillness，lesseningthegloomofthelonggrass—grownlaneofLoisBoynton’swatchingindaysgoneby。Onsunnymorningsthereisamerrybabelofchildren’schatter，mingledwithgentlematernalwarnings，forthisisanewbroodofyoungthingsandtheriveriscallingthemasithascalledalltheotherswhoevercamewithinthecircleofitsmagic。Thefragileharebellshangingtheirblueheadsfromthecrevicesoftherocks；thebrilliantcolumbinesswayingtoandfroontheirtallstalks；thepatchesofgleamingsandinshallowplacesbeckoninglittlebarefeettocomeandtreadthem；theglintofsilverminnowsdartinghitherandthitherinsomestillpool；thetempestuousjourneyofsomeweather—beatenlog，fightingitswaydownstream；——hereislifeinabundance，luringthechildtoshareitsrisksanditsjoys。
WhenWaitstill’sboysandPatty’sgirlscomebacktothefarm，theyplaybySacoWaterastheirmothersandtheirfathersdidbeforethem。Thepathsthroughthepinewoodsalongtheriver’sbrinkaretroddensmoothbytheirrestless，wanderingfeet；theireager，curiouseyessearchthewaysidesforadventure，buttheirbabbleandlaughterareoftenestheardfromtheruinsofanoldhousehiddenbygreattrees。Thestonesofthecellar，allovergrownwithblackberryvines，arestillthere；andafragmentofthebrickchimney，whereswallowsbuildtheirnestsfromyeartoyear。Awildernessofweeds，tallandluxuriant，springsuptohidethestoneoverwhichJacobCochranesteppeddailywhenheissuedfromhisdoor；andthepolishedstickwithwhichthree—year—oldPattybeatsatattoomaybearoundfromtheverychairinwhichhesat，expoundingtheBibleaccordingtohisownvision。Thethicketsofsweetcloverandred—tippedgrasses，ofwavingfernsandyoungalderbusheshideallofuglinessthatbelongstothedesertedspotandserveasaminiatureforestinwhoseshadetheyounglingsforeshadowthefutureattheirplayofhome—buildingandhousekeeping。Inafarcorner，altogetherconcealedfromthepasser—by，thereisasecrettreasure，awonderfulrosebush，itsgreenleavesshiningwithhealthandvigor。WhentheJulysunisturningthehay—fieldsyellow，thechildrenpartthebushesintheleafycornerandlittleWaitstillBoyntonstepscautiouslyin，togatheronesplendidrose，\"forfatherandmother。\"
JacobCochrane’sheart，withallitsfaultsandfrailtieshaslongbeenatpeace。Onachill，drearynightinNovember，allthatwasmortalofhimwasraisedfromitsunhonoredresting—placenotfarfromtheruinsofhisoldabode，andbornebythreeofhisdisciplesfarawaytoanotherstate。Thegravestoneswerereplaced，facedownward，deep，deepintheearth，andthesodlaidbackuponthem，sothatnomanthenceforwardcouldmarktheplaceoftheprophet’stransientburialamidthescenesofhisfirstandonlytriumphantministry。
\"Itisasadstory，JacobCochrane’s，\"Waitstillsaidtoherhusbandwhenshefirstdiscoveredthatherchildrenhadchosenthedesertedspotfortheirplay；\"andyet，Ivory，theredrosebloomsandbloomsintheruinsoftheman’shouse，andperhaps，somewhereintheworld，hehasleftamessagethatmatchestherose。\"
End
