Perry Enterprise-Times. (Perry, Okla.), Vol. 2, No. 24, Ed. 1 Thursday, February 13, 1896 Page: 2 of 8
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Somewhat abashed, Harney walked
in. Looking around, Mrs. McFadden
pave a little scream, then hastened
j explain, meanwhile hospitably profler-
j in# a chair.
| "I brought yez a valentine.**
The words fairly tripped over each
back was toward the door, but when
I)onal i turned a face full of expectancy
upon him he sank onto a stool, cover-
ing hi«* face with his hands.
"By all the saints, Barney, don't tell
me she refused," groaned poor Donald,
his arms hanging helplessly by his side.
! other as they came out of Barney's ' his lower jaw dropping, his whole at
j mouth, and he rather collapsed than titude one of fear and suspense. It
sat down In the chair. lie had spolcen | was then that Barney, lifting his head
LT cf the heart of
the long \go,
Failed an<I yellowed
by time, you know,
But cherished still
In shadow and
Cometh to me her
Her* Is a couplet
quaint and truei
" The rose Is red.
The violet's blue,"
And I cream n the gloaming soft and low
Of the lass who penned It long ago.
A little maid cvlth the bluest eyes
That ever danced 'neath winter's skies;
A rog iish miss w nose love \*as told
To the found of a kin* In a moonlu wold;
But here Is the rest of her rhyming true:
" Love is sweet
And so are you;"
And a boy's checks flushed at the P.nii line
OI a '•utile sweetheart's valentlne.
i)eep ir. the past, but dimly hid
Bthinu a soft eye's drooping lid,
(quivers the arrow that Cujjld keen
fohot ar the Castle of Might-huve been;
And p'ulner still grow s the couplei true—
" Tho ruse Is red,
The violet's blue,"
And laughter low, wnich is half divine,
/tipples across her valentine.
With a cherished thought for the love It
1 tenderly open each yellow fold,
And my hJart beats las: as It l«at one
in a ptat that Is hallowed and far away;
1 can «ce the eyes tha' wore deep *nd hluo;
" Love Is sweet
And so are you;"
Sc th'.'.ght tne loss as she penned each
And sealed with a kiss hor valentine.
—T. C. Il.irbaugh, In Truth.
fast for once, but had never felt so
All smiles and flushes, the widow
•jroceoded to open 'he package, declar-
fully realized how much his news would
mean to his benefactor. Like a flash
came the remembrance of all this man
had done for him, of the miserable ex-
!ng the while that he was fooling her, istence he hail snatched him from, of
that uobody would trouble to give her i the many times he had gone hungry
a vakntine, though she used to get j that he might be fed, of the almost
j plenty of them. | mother love he had given him; and
Aa *he wrapping fell off, she burst I a sudden resolve formed in his soul,
.nto •\clamations of admiration and Indeed, at that moment this untutored
^—7 . -
^ ^ IU? T'S 'llig-ant Y.d
that's the truth,
but none too illi-
O'Dillon, as be rapturously suveyed the
bit of pasteboard covered with roses,
tulips and poppies. "And the varses,
Barney, read 'em again."
"As swate as tulips and roses.
My pretty, fail maiden, are you;
As bright as the sun In the heavens.
As dewdrops, tender and true."
"That describes the widdy, precise-
ly," interrupted Donald, excitedly.
"I come to you hoping, yet fal.itlng,
Your valentine fain 1 would bo;
If 'tis yes, keep on with your smiling,
If 'tis no, return this to me."
"Ve've foiue taste, Barney, me b'y,
*nd whenyer turn comes 'ml yer courten
pome swate crather loike the widdy,
I'll do as much for ye. And now if ye'li
jist do me the favor to present it this
avening, I'll count this a foine day's
"Present it yourself, Donald.*'
"Faith, 'nd I'm that bashful I'd blush
meself into a favcr; ye won't go back on
me now, Barney. Ye nadeu't go in un-
less ye plaze; ye kin wait at the door fer
Simple Donald had never even heard
of the courtship of Miles Standish else
he might have thought twice before
sending a btalwart youth, ten years his
junior, to do his wooing for him. In
his eyes, Barney Casey was naught but
the "lad" brought with him from the
old country; I doubt if he ever knew ho
"I've got to see Kodger about thrad-
ing work to-morrow, anyway," Barney
t>aid, slowly, after a moment's reflec-
tion. Barney always said everything
"So ye's have."
When Barney went out, Donald care-
fully scrubl>ed his hands and then took
up the precious bit of pasteboard that
Barney had ridden seven miles to pro-
cure. Eagerly he examined it over
and over, trying to read from memory
that wonderful poem.
"It's a loine thing to be a achollard
like Barney," he mused, longing to
really read the mystic words.
"It was a lucky day fer me whin I
coaxed him away from old Baily; *nd a
lucky thing for the b'y.
"This'U fetch the widdy, I reckon;
ahe's a sinsibfe woman, a very sinsible
woman." Then he carefully folded the
card in a bit of paper, and,just at dusk,
Barney started on his mission.
"What'll I say?" he queried.
Donald reflected awhile, then
answered pompously: (Donald could
be pompous when he had only Barney
delignt equaling Donald's own. Again
Barney was mentally berating the lat-
ter fox not doing his own courting.
Blushingly the widow read the verses
.hrough twice, then turned a beam-
ing countenance ou Barney.
"This is a great surprise to me, Mr.
(. asey, but a most agreeable one. I shall
keep the valentine," she added, shyly,
extending her hand toward him.
He took it; what else could he do?
his face like scarlet and his heart, beat-
ing so loud he was sure she must hear it.
"I ®hull tell Dona'd 'tis yia, thinT*
**Certainly yez may."
"Ho said cz he wanted to como over
i her morrow avening."
14Any time he likes.**
A boyish whistle in the "near" dis-
tance caused the widow's blushes to
" 'Tis Rodger," she said, aweetly.
"Shall I till the b'yes to onct *nd have
"Ye/, kin use yer plashure," drawled
the youth in somo surprise, feeling
rather gratified than otherwise that
she should treat him so kindly and
consult him so deferentially.
There was a stamping of feet out-
side, and two ruddy Iri -h la/Is, the one
ten, the other about 16, came noisily in.
"IIilloP shouted Rodger, the elder,
catching sight of Barney; they he
etared in astonishment as he noticcd
his step-mother standing beside him,
trailing and rosy, a large card in her
"Is't a litter ye've got, sure?** ho
"No, b'ys, it's no litter, it's a valen-
Irish lad (madly in love w ith the widow
r.a he*had long been) arose to the
heights of a hero.
"It's all right, Donald, b'y** (he felt
as if lie himself had aged years In the
last two hours). "She didn't send the
valentine back 'nd she said ez yez could
come over when yez plaze.**
In his joy Donald forgot for a time
how pale and quiet Barney was and how
queer he had acted when he first came
in; but by and by he said:
"Yez seems to be cut up the avening,
my b'y; what ails yez?"
"I jist feel a bit faint—sort o' gone
in my stomick."
"It's the bit of a tonic yez needs,
Barney, a sup of beer or the loike."
Neither man slept much that night.
Donald was too happy and too full of
plana for tho future; Barney too mis-
erable and too anxious as to the out-
come of his one little plan for the mor-
row. Donald fell asleep toward morn-
ing and the younger man, dressing
noiselessly, slipped out of the house,
running every step of the way to the
McFadden claim. He was sorely afraid
his courage would forsake him or words
fail him. Possibly the widow did not
look quite as youthful and enchanting
in the cloudy morning light, her hair
badly rumpled and her toilet carelessly
made. Rodger was "doing chores" and
Dan was still asleep. Everything fa-
vored the wretched confession poor
Barney had to make. The widow lis-
tened in surprise,*but seemed nit half
as much put out as the poor fellow had
supposed she would; in fact, he had no
reed for the long list of arguments he
IE postman, on hla
Left me a Valen-
Which makes my
heart with lap-
My eyes with rap-
It does not bear the
You would not call
that so much aa
That It's a valen-
It seems a modest little note,
la truth I will confess
The 11 tie mai 1 bare one word wrcta.
But oh! that word was ' yes."
That word was "yes. and you can guess
What radiant Joy Is mine.
For an* will be—oh, happiness!—
My 'life-long valentine.
—Jonnston® Murray, In Womankind.
!i y ***
Killed, Marse Travis; what yo* ma
fcvvine to say to that?"
"Me being killed would break 'em up
at home, wouldn't it? But," continued
the young soldier, "I am going to have
no more shilly-shally about this letter.
I love that girl. I always will, always
have loved that girl, and I am going to
tell her so"—all his young breath froze
on the keen, cold air as he talked of the
warmth in his young henrt; "I'll be the
happiest man if that girl loves me. My
name, my heart, my fortuue, every-
thing is hers if she w ill marry me," de-
clared this young aristocrat, heaving
Caleb had said: "You talk *bout
ma'yin' de daughter of de man what
oversee for we-all in yo' gran [>a's time?
What yo' ma gwine say to dat?"
"That w ould break 'em all up at home,
too, wouldn't it? But I love her, and
that letter I write as soon as this shovel
is out of my hands."
It was the gray dawn of another day
ere Calvert found time to write that
letter full of love's assurances and ur-
gency; so it happened that it was dated
February 14, the day sacred to sweet-
hearts, pink hearts, and the arrows of
Cupid. Of this, however, Calvert had
no thought, among the ringing of the
enemies' bullets across the earthworks,
and the sound of the plunging lire of
* These thoughts, together with the
dreams of what might have been, were
too much for Caleb. He resolved to
make one more effort to gain permis-
sion from his master to deliver the let-
ter. He rose from the steps of the
j>.,ri<- portioo—all the banffles and
chains tinkled on him as he started
across tho street to the major—but a
sudden decision stopped him short;
wheeling about, he struck oiT in tho
opposite direction aa fast a* his old
legs could carry him.
It made no matter that the major
called to him querulously. He pro-
tended that he could hear nothing.
He stopped nor stayed until he had
reached the broad door of the Banks
mansion and had tapped an apologctic-
al tap under the electric hell thereon.
At the door he had trembled; but his
knees verily shook and bowed under
him, and all his brazen adornments
jangled on him like bells on a shaken
tambourine when he stood before Miss
Lore n a.
She was so utterly different in ap-
pearance from tho girl be had been
dreaming of for his master's sake. Ho
felt ready to swoon, too, for the room
smelled so strangely and diffusely of
old, very old rose- petals, of simmering
tea, of dried sweet fern, that one would
have fancied that there was nev
[a.iUU lfj| mTi ■■
£ MIT;sS' > WW 7 41
. -1 ? • i .. v: f • ^t:-A
U'1 • t: :■ •• ' : * • " wJ^ 1
"I BBOUGHT YEZ A VALENTINE«.
^Ine; *nd a great joy has come to yer [had arranged to help win the "lost
mither 'nd yez, sure, this day; 'nd now
I'll introduce yez to yer father, that
is to be, Barney Casey, sure."
"Hooray!" cried little Dan, throw-
ing up his cap and turning a somer-
sault; but Barney did not notice any-
ihiru? that was ffoing on; he simply
tried to open his lips to say something
to correct the awful mistake, but
no words came; indeed he could not
think of a single thing to say, but his
bronzed face grew actually pale, and
he trimbled like a man in a chill. But
Dan's antics, Rodger's hearty, if Inel-
tgant: "Bully fer yez, Barney, me 'nd
"'Nd the b'ys," Barney added. "Don-
ald must niver aven surmise there was
"I'll manage them—lave it to me," she
"And after all a match between Don-
ald and mesilf is more fitting," she
added; "the loikes of yez should wait
fer some swate young gurL"
Barney was home and had the fire
kindled before Donald fairly awoke
from pleasant dreams tl^at were but a
continuation of his waking ones. Don-
ald found the day as long afl ever impa-
youll make a team at farmen'," and the tient lover did, but evening came at last
widow'B sweet effusiveness completely and early tw ilight saw hinton) his way;
covered his confusion and the oppor-
tunity was gone.
lie forgot his errand with Rodger,
11 nd escaped as soon as possible, though
they all seemed loath to leave him go.
Once alone in the Keen night air, poor
nor was there aught in the widow'B
greeting to make him surmise that her
dreams of the night before had been of
other than himself.
There was a uedding in r fortnight,
but Barney steadfastly refused to make
Faith 'nd if enough for a bachelor like himself,
lie 6troikc9 me dead I won't blame him All this is two years past and now
poor sowll Bliss her purty face, but | Barney is fixing up the shanty, while
Barney apostrophized something after , one Gf the happy family at the McFad-
this fashion: I den claim. The w idow's house was
"The howly saints preserve me, what much more comfortable and pretentions
hiv I done! To think of her taken me than the O'Dillon's, but Barney de-
to face.) "Till her ez ye've brought her j up loike this! I'm a ruined man—Don- dared "the owld shanty" was good
a valentine 'nd I want ter know if I kin aid 11 niver forgi\e me. ~~
come over to-morrow night."
It was only a 20-ininutc wnlk for a
youth like Barney, to the widow Mo-
Fudden's claim,and all too soon he found
himself at the door.
"Wish Donald O'Dillon *ud do his own
courtin*," he muttered, as he paused
for a moment to glance through the
"It makes home outen a plaoe ter
hev a woman around," he continued to
himself, as he w atched the widow deft-
ly washing the supper dishes. She
looked buxom enough in the uncertain
light of an open wood fire and one
tallow candle. A sound very like a
sigh escaped Barney's lips as he gave a
vigorous thump on the door,
"Come in," called the widow, think-
ing the summons was from her little
boy, who had gone to the barn a few
hhe's illigant though. Barney Casey,
yez was born to luck. Howly Moses!
't's not mesilf ez can go home the
night. I b'lave she means to marry me,
sure, 'nd it's mesilf that's long sighed
ftr her in sacret, but knowen ez Don-
ald lied his eye on her I'd niver hev
tried courtcn her for mesilf. Faith 'nd
I belave courten and poppen the ques-
*lon is a bit o' bizness ivery man had
oettcr attind to for himself."
It took almost an hour for Barney
Casey to go over the way that, earlier
in tin evening, had been 1 reversed in
L'U minutes. When he cam*- in sight of
the shanty and saw Donald pacing im-
y atlently about within lie fairly cursed
the pretty widow and his own good
fortuue. Donald paused to stir up the
lire, and Barney hurried in while his
carefully hidden away ia a valentine,
ten times finer than the one Donald sent
tho widow, intended, we mistrust, foi
the pretty daughter of a neighbor liv-
ing a couple of miles beyond the wid-
"All is well that ends well," and ai
Donald O'Dillon has been oftimei
heard to say: "It jist takes a valentine
to fetch 'em."—Velma C. Melville, Ir
Farm, Field and Fireside.
HE mild air of mid-
violets. From a
yard across the
w a v their odor
ti o a t e d even to
where old Caleb
sat on the court-
house steps. Above
the gray old n c-
gro gleamed the
white Doric columns of the house of
Caleb was the most bedecked old ne-
gro to be seen out of < ongoland. He
w ore a tall white hat, a blue /rock coat
—some 20 brass buttons adorned that
coat—a steel chain (presumably for a
watch he wore), a chain that crossed j
his breast four times. Sundry charm*-
and bangles daligling about him give
him an appearance imposing a-s that of j
a Knight of the Liarter. This was hi> i
usual attire, lie felt that such elabora-
tion of toilet was due hi
was general sweepe
these offices and t
He rang the gre
were iu session. 11c
pigeons that hovered about the court-
house belfry and the jail tower. Mani-
fold as his duties were, he had com-
parative leisure now; evencommis: min-
ers' court v.as adjourned. He sat bask-
ing in the pleasant afternoon sun. look-
ing with unflagging interest down the
vista of old shops ami new-set young
In front of one shop sat his quondam
owner, sometime employer, and always
his object of devotion. Very old and
worn looked the major in the bright
light that fell over him. His neaiiy-
brushed clothes were very shabby, his
handsome old face and military air
were very imposing. His rattan stick
and his cork leg were rested out on a
splint-bottomed chair before him. Hi*
gestures, as he talked to the group of
gentlemen about h
He was probably te
war, possibly telling
the lOuth time, ( a
match the excited ge>tures with his I
own experience, and ip gue - at the |
particulars of the story; r r he had [
followed young Travis i alvert through |
lighting, wounding impr. >nment. |
Ilia efforts after the thr id oft le story I
were interrupted, ho v. ever, by the roll- j
ing of a hands->nie carriage I ••w««n ,
him and his master. Down went the !
major's cork leg, up the major's otiff |
body, off the major's s t hat; and just ;
so often as a lady pas- < d, or driving or i
walking, just so often ..:•*« soi la borate- |
ly was the major's t rv i tern j ted.
In the present ii;V.the iudy was j
Miss Lorena JMnks,
over 40. Her earrixj
post oflice, t -j far f
the major to h« ;.r th
after the \Vor,.;in's V < ri.. t
ways, or nearly alv. a , o
day; the Lofty Choir V
failed to come last e\• : i
Portrayer of F -!>:< th;.
the othce now, and must
Though Caleb could not hear the
sharp tones, he could note very well
the gloss and elegance of the equlpege.
From his smattering k?.«>w|edge of
deeds, titles, rent notes, crop li-tjs and
the like, he knew very well the goodly
amount of the lady*s income. Some-
thing, maybe the time o. the year.may
be the insistent odor of violets in the
air, may Vie the red glow of the camellia
japonieas on the coats of the university
boys%is they sauntered by h!.:i. them-
selves glowing with youth and bright-
ness, every four out < f fi' e smiling over
a valentine; anyhow, something set
Caleb thinking of the lot.^ ago. It was
of 'oi, the 13th of February, and I it-
terly cold in that Intrenched camp,
called by grace Fort L'oria! lson,' rant
threatened by land, ( < r;:moo< re Foote
fcy water. To help in the land attack,
unexpected and unprepared for. until
the confederates against the gunboats fresh violet or a day of gay youth iti
on the river. the whole world. But there was no
For the next two days thorn was no j drawing back now; for < aleb held the
way out of the besieged camp, and I yellowed missive abroad in his handy
Caleb was too busy dodging shells to and Miss Lorena was already eying it
tliink of the letter he carried. curiously. So, bowing and bending
On the 17th, that day of fiercest fight- ' till he tinkled like a rattle in a baby s
ing, Calvert's leg was cut ciean away, i fist, he laid tho old letter in the hand
That awful night, when 4,000 dead,and ! held out for it. While she fumbled with
dying, and wounded of both armies lay , the ancient seal Caleb's hand fumbled
on the ground and literally froze out- with his blue-checked shirt as if it
right, it was Caleb who got Calvert a | would tear it into shreds.
place in an ambulance of the enemy. | The antiquated paper told faithfully
A'fortnight later Calvert waked to con-j young love's story—a sweet, fervent
bciousne&s. He lay somewhere in the I tale. For a moment the reader waif
HE STOOD IlEPOIiE MISS LORENA.
chill north on a prison cot, and Caleb , herself young again, 20 years well for-
leaned over him toask: "Marse Travis, \ gotten; but, suddenly remembering
mus' 1 send the letter now?" those 20 years and more, she turned
"Xo, no, no," groaned Calvert; "lam sharply on the cringing old negro t«j
broken up. 1 am worthless now. Not ask: "Whoever gave you this?**
with all my wealth, not with all my "Marse Travis Calvert.**
lands, would 1 ask her now." j "When did he give it to you? I say
When at last prisou doors were flung ' when—when?"
d, manned sout!
their prisou-paled fu
v< ung Calvert found C
s i.pon iu ml reds ,
Freedom and honor had be'
in the land of i alvert's eapt
these he had used to the utn
power for the comfort and sin
ma tcr. Now together the
their faces to the warm, swee
> ity, and
>st of his
•or of his
"Nigh as I can git de count It wero
30 odd year ago," stammered t aleb.
"And you!" she cried; "you kept it!"*
She saw the cause of her youth's dis-
appointmcnt, and she felt it anew and
most keenly. "You! Why didn't you
give it to me? You—"
Caleb was frightened now of no un-
certainty, of no imaginings of his own.
He was desperately frightened of Misa
Lorena, and he made all haste a human
That was a returning that was no tongue could make to tell the story
home-coming. Calvert's father was of the letter and Jts long delaying.
I uried, hi* mother crushed with sor- He dwelt especially on his own re-
nw, his home burned, hin negroes freed, j-nted offers to deliver it; lie sjx>ke
his lands mortgaged. 1 w ith especial fervency of his determina-
In a little cottage at the park gate he tiou of that afternoon to consult w ith
found his mother, and this tJiey made the major no longer about the matter,
their home; there Calvert managed to but to fetch it to her on his owu rc-
cke out on existence for himself, his j sponsibility.
i..other, and the ever faithful Caleb. Full dark had fallen before Miss
In tlio1 •• first days of home-coming Lorena sent for Caleb frotn the kitchen,
( aleb had asked, seeing thai Lorena in where he had been warming and feed-
her girlish beauty looked kindly on the ing, to lay a crisp new note in his hands
maimed hero: "Shall 1 givs de letter with the injunction: Give thia to Maj.
low, Marse Travis?" | Calvert immediately I **
"No, no! what have I to offer a worn- |
an? (alvert would exclaim. T?h« major's bare little room wns
At intervals in all those long years dark and cold, for it takes all the sun-
when Miss Lorena was left sole heir to shine to keep February warm. Thi
a goodly fortune, while Calvert scuffled major himself was fractious, for Caleb
v. ith only the salary of a chancer} had not been inattentive before In over
clerkship and a swelling current of a quarter of a century. But when tho
mortgages with no breakwater of pay- note was in his hand, when ( aleb had
merits to check their progress, Caleb I found his glasses and held the smoky
h; d continued to ask, w hen violets wen? ' lamp near for him to read it, he was as
sweet and japonieas bright: "Marse
Travis, mus' 1 give the letter now?**
Since the mother's death Calvert had
lived alone in a bare little hired room
exultant for a moment as a schoollniy
on an April day, rich with his love 4
It was the answer to his own love'*
the full of Fort ll-t.sy, ti..- n M .rs , r a shop. Wira-pullimr politician* uir-ncy; he knew It n mm .n tho
were throwing eiirthv-I !i :nl innnenv. red to thrust the major out lirst words met his oh! even In t h -1
ly a* might lie. I'nd.-r biting-:.ow ui.d of his of!lce, nn.l now with cl.-nr honor moment of ecstasy his cork let- hi*
Fleet they shoveled cheerily at the red ■ e.-er his and iinril chance ever against poverty, his sorrows—all were forgot-
carth. him. he made a meager stni by copying i ten. And oven when, an hour later
Ride by side worked Travis Tnlrert and account!.,g. h(, ,nt by UIh Lomu'i warm lire, her
and his body servnnt. Caleb. Down In , Caleb lost neither his posl'ion at the plump hand held charily in hi* thin
concert swept the arm of master and i (ourthou«« nor Ids place as Calvert's I one, and nil the vears and all the grief,
slave, up in unison heaved the *ho.el« | housekeeper and man of all work, .lust that had sundered them remembered
now the faithful creature lived In con- and miked over, surely iu all the lov-
stant terror lest the rnnior should ills- : Im- worl.l n n flint 1.1 t fl 4 t*..i
**I)id you send Miss Ilawklns a val-
MYes; but slic sent it back. I!vei
since she took an editorial position on
the Social Gazetto she's been doing
things like that. Force of habit,**—
works 1 am killed, you send It to her. ;
4f 1 come out safe I'll send it myself ' j
Caleb bad said: "You talk 'boutgittln' I
N. V. lndej endcnt.
ed St, Vnlen-
Caleb remernl ered to-day how f'nl- i tnnt terror lest the major should dls- [ Ing world, on that hies
rt had Mid to him that day: "When I cover that oftentimes hi* own earnings i tloe'l day, there were not two hapnler
1 get a snotch of time, ( iileh, I nm going | went to help out the meager .-urns the hearts than thesc.-Mart! u Younu in
to write a letter to M:m Lorena I am major gave him for the frugal house*
polng t< give it to you, and if in the en- keeping. He well knew if e- er a sus-
pngeraents to fomc behind these earth- | pieion of this reached the brave major,
himself was forever banished, and the
major given over to utmost po crty and
Papa (on the top of tho stairs) — Is
that young man gone, Mamie?
Mamie—Vcs, papa; awfuliyl—Judge.
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Perry & Welch. Perry Enterprise-Times. (Perry, Okla.), Vol. 2, No. 24, Ed. 1 Thursday, February 13, 1896, newspaper, February 13, 1896; Perry, Oklahoma. (gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc127711/m1/2/: accessed May 27, 2018), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.