J-T-L-L-O! The Jell-O program starring Jack Benny with Mary Livingston, Phil Harris, Dennis Day, and yours truly, Don Wilson. The orchestra opens the program with, Let's All Sing Together. When you were a youngster, did this ever happen to you? The family would sit down to some special dessert, but you weren't allowed to have any. Remember how hurt you felt? Well, that never happens when there's Jell-O for dessert, where Jell-O is marvelously light and wholesome and the whole family can enjoy it from grandpa on down to junior. And believe me, the whole family does enjoy it, for Jell-O is the perfect ending to any meal. Those six delicious flavors are as delightful and refreshing as the juicy ripe fruit itself.  Make it something truly special every time. So treat the family to some Jell-O tomorrow. If you haven't enjoyed it recently, you'll find it even better than you remember. More delicious and inviting, more downright swell. Try it and see. Look for those big red letters on the box. They spell Jell-O and Jell-O spells an all-family treat. All sing together played by the orchestra. And now, ladies and gentlemen, for the last installment of our recent journey to Yosemite National Park in Jacks Maxwell, the trip will go down in history with the adventures of Marco Polo, the exploits of Admiral Byrd, the voyage of Christopher Columbus. Don't forget the rover, boys. Quiet, Mary. As you remember, last week's episode ended with Jack skiing down a steep hill and crashing into the ski house with the result that he suffered a sprained ligament in his leg and several assorted abrasions. Oh, it's a miracle I'm alive. I must be made of iron. Continue down. It is now several days later. And we take you to Jack's room at the Awani Hotel in Yosemite where he is convalescing. It's my birthday, too, folks. Jack is propped up in bed. And as the scene opens, we find Rochester reading to him from a magazine. It was past midnight and the moon was shining brightly through the magnolia trees as Ronald walked into the garden. Carlotta heard his footsteps approaching and looked up like a frightened gazelle. That's Gazelle. That's frightened Gazelle. Don't be alarmed, darling, pride, the young American engineer. It is I. I have come back for you. I knew he would. Carlotta's dark Mexican eyes flashed. Her lips quivered. Kiss me, she said. Kiss me. All right, never mind the dialect. Go ahead. The smile on Ronald's face suddenly turned to a sneer. It's no use, Carlotta, he said. I only come back to say goodbye. This is the end.  Doesn't he know she loves him? But Ronald cried, Carlotta. You can't go. We're married. And what about the baby? The baby? What baby? That was last month, boys. We missed that. Oh. Well, that changes everything. Go ahead. Ronald turned and started toward the gate. Carlotta clung to him and the tears came to eyes. But Ronald laughed bitterly and struck her to the ground. Brute. She quickly arose and ran toward him. His back was turned. So she could not see the long, thin dagger flashing in his hand. A dagger? She crept closer and closer. Ronald's back was still turned. Yes, yes. Please, Ronald, she cried. He did not answer. Oh. So she clutched the dagger and raised it high and high and high. Oh, my goodness. He better run. No hurry. Continue it next month. What? It's a fine ending. They always leave you in suspense like that. It's a great story, though. Yes. And you know Rochester would make a swell picture. Can't you just see me as the young American engineer that spurns the love of this beautiful seniorita? Uh-huh. It's no use, Carlotta. I only came back to say goodbye. This is the end. And then when she tries to kiss me, I knock her to the ground. What I could do to a part like that. Uh-huh. I wonder who the right girl would be to play opposite me. Of course, Hattie Lamar might be the type. She's dark and she's got those flashing eyes. She's too healthy. You'd never knock her down. Well, I still think we'd make a very romantic couple. Come in. Hello, Jack. Happy birthday. Hello, Mary. Thanks. I'm having a fine birthday this year.  Don't feel so sorry for yourself. Your leg hurts a little. That's all. That's all. It's nothing, young lady. I had a pretty bad accident. And it's a serious case. Oh, everything is serious with you. It is, eh? Last month, you got a sliver in your finger and you wanted to go to the Mayo Brothers to have it taken out. Now, wait a minute, Mary Livingston. That sliver wasn't in my finger. It was in my tongue. And it was painful. Well, I told you not to eat those good humor so close to the stick.  I came in to bring you a birthday present. Here it is. Ouch! My leg! I got a sore leg. That's why I'm in bed. Didn't have to throw the package. I'm sorry, Jack. I forgot. What's the present? I'll open it later. It's a bottle of rubbing alcohol for your back. Oh. Well, you like it, don't you? Yes. Thanks. It's just what I need. Rubbing alcohol, a fine birthday present. Anyway, I'm glad you dropped in, Mary.  How about another game of casino, boss? Okay. How much do I owe you now, Rochester? Let's see. I got the score right here. Four, carry, two, add, five. Well, how much is it? Eight thousand dollars. Let's see that. That's eighty dollars. You're supposed to put a decimal point in there. You put in the money, I'll put in the points. Eighty bucks, eh? Why, Jack, Benny, you mean to say you lost eighty dollars to Rochester playing casino? Not only that, I was teaching him the game.  Hey, Roch? You ain't gonna rock me out of it. All right, Mr. Van Jones, I'll add it to your check next week. I wish my nurse would get here. It's supposed to be here at eight o'clock and it's eleven thirty. I saw her a little while ago. Where? She was out skiing with Phil Harris. Oh, fine. I pay a nurse seven dollars a day so she can slide down a hill with Harris. I'll never find her when I want her. Well, I think you went too far yesterday when you hung that cowbell around her neck. Well, I had to do something. See, my leg's throbbing and I got a fever and everything. Maybe that's her now. Come in. Hello, Jack. Happy birthday. Oh, thanks, Don. Happy birthday, Mr. Benny. Are you feeling better? Oh, a little, Dennis, but I'm still not myself. My leg hurts and I ache all over. Oh, that's too bad. Well, anyway, Jack, you're a year older today. That doesn't help any either. Now, listen, Mary, I wouldn't say anything if I were you after that birthday present you gave me. You know, fellas, I just received a lovely bottle of rubbing alcohol from Miss Livingston. No kidding. Yeah, what a present. Well, if I had a cold, she'd have bought me Kleenex. If I had a headache, she'd have bought me a box of aspirin. Long as you stay under a dollar, you're safe. Just what I was getting at. I wouldn't mind that so much, Mary, but after the beautiful birthday presents, I always give you. Remember that mink jacket three years ago? Some mink jacket. Every spring it comes out to look at a shadow. Oh, you always have to run and get things appraised. Yeah, I wish my nurse would get here and my doctor or somebody. I'm tired of lying here in bed. You want to teach me some more, Cassina Boss? No, I lost $80. That's enough. An incident, Rochester, in as much as I was teaching you the game, I'm charging you $60 for lessons. So only owe you $20. And if I recall correctly, I recently gave you my old blue suit, which is worth at least $20, so I really don't owe you anything. I know we'd arrive there, but I didn't know just how. Well, that's how, and the meeting is closed. I wish the doctor'd show up. I want to get back to Hollywood in time for our broadcast Sunday. Oh, you'll make it all right, Jack. Sure, there's nothing a matter with you. I just don't complain, that's all. Say, Mr. Benny, what song do you want me to sing next Sunday? Well, Dennis, what's popular right now? There's a new number out called The Isle of May. It's a ballotype. Would that be all right? I don't know. Does it fit you, Dennis? I think so. It goes something like this. Well, Dennis, that song's going to be all right for the program. I think I ought to brush up on it, though. Maybe so. Oh, Jack, speaking of Sunday's show, I have a problem that's been bothering me. You have done? Yes, it's been on my mind all day, and I just can't seem to arrive at a definite solution. My goodness, what is it? Well, on next Sunday's show, I don't know whether to say, go to your neighborhood grocer and ask him for a package of jello, or run to your neighborhood grocer and ask him for a package of jello. Oh, well, that is a problem there. I like go. I like run. Yes. See, the one is good, Don. No, Jack, no. I don't think they convey the idea of enough speed. Oh, well, how about hasten, Don? Listen to this. Hasten to your neighborhood grocer and ask him for a package of jello. How's that for the customers? Well, I don't know. How about shooting him out of a cannon? Out of a cannon? That's it. Shoot yourself out of a cannon to your neighborhood grocer and ask him for a package of jello. Thanks, Mary. That's terrific. You're welcome. See you later, Jack. Dog, Don. Wow. Wow. Cannon. Gee. Well, I'll be dog, Don. Me too. Well, if my nurse doesn't get here pretty soon, say, Rochester, give me a spoonful of that iron tonic. Uh-oh. Was there iron in that, boss? Why, certainly, iron and alcohol. My, my. That's the first time I ever had a metallic martini. Play off my medicine. Gee, my leg hurts again. I get those shooting pains. Come in. Oh, Jack, it's Dr. Nelson. It's about time. So it's you, Doctor. Yes. Well, quite a little party we're having here. How are you today, Miss Livingston? I'm just fine, Doctor. Good.  I feel marvelous. Fine, fine. And Rochester, how are you feeling? Okay, Doc. I'm okay. Good. Well, I'll be running along now. Goodbye. Hey, wait a minute. I'm the patient here. What about me? Oh, yes, Mr. Benny. Yes, yes. How is your arm today? Still bothering you? It's my leg, my left leg. My arms are all right. I just lost $80 playing cards with them. Oh, certainly it's your leg.   Now, Doc, here's the whole story. Don't you remember? I hurt my leg skiing. I went down the mountain at Badger Pass and crashed through the ski house. Then we phoned for you and you came to examine me. Remember? Oh, yes. And I'll never forget how you called me daddy. Well, I was delirious. That's why. I was delirious. Well, just the same. It was embarrassing. I'm a bachelor, you know. I know, I know. Now, look, Doctor, I want to know if I can get out of here today and go home. You see, Doctor, Mr. Benny's anxious to get up because it's his birthday today. Well, congratulations, young man. How old are you? It's none of your business. I'm old enough to bolt. For Lincoln. Marry. I'm trying to get some information here. Now, Doctor, when I'm... Oh, come in. Well, Jack, your nurse finally arrived. So I see. Oh, I'm glad you dropped in, nurse. How's my little patient today? As if you cared. And take off those skis. I'll be here for a minute. Did you hear that, Doctor? Find nurse your recommendation. It's supposed to be taking care of me. She's out skiing with Phil Harris all day.  I'm sorry, kid. Later, Miss Kelly. Now, look, Doc, I want to find out if I can get... Miss Kelly, will you please take Mr. Benny's pulse? Okay, Doctor. Let me have your wrist, Mr. Benny. Here. Well, are you going to come here? You want me to throw it over? Now, come here. All right. Here's my wrist.  I'll bet $10 Olson and Johnson are under the bed. Well, Miss Kelly, what about it? Of course not. You're wearing mittens. No pulse. Why, the blood just leaps through my veins. It can't be that happy. That's all right. Now, Doctor, for the last time, I want to find out if I can get... Oh, for heaven's sake. Come in. Hiya, Jackson. How's your leg? You're certainly worried about that, Phil, Harris. Hello, Phil. Oh, there you are, Miss Kelly. Hiding from me, huh? Hiding from you? She works here. And incidentally, Phil, when you came in, you might at least have wished me a happy birthday. Oh, yeah. Happy birthday, Jackson. Keep it. Happy birthday. Oh, is this your birthday, Mr. Benny? Yes. Well, if I'd have known that, I'd have put a candle on your poached egg. Oh, that would have been lovely. You know, Jackson, I forgot all about this being your birthday, and I feel terrible about not bringing you a gift. Oh, you do. Yeah, I don't want you to think I'm a heel. Believe me, Phil, one little present won't influence me one way or the other. So don't worry about it. Well, I think I'll be running along now, Mr. Benny. Now, wait a minute, Doctor.  Oh, my goodness. You could have gone home four days ago. I could? Then why keep me in bed? Why didn't you tell me then? I'm gonna pack and get out of here. What's my bill, Doctor? $35. $35? $37.50. I saw a suit I liked today. You'll get $35. Rochester, take care of that, will you? Okay, boss. Do you play casino, Doctor? Yes, I do. Follow me. Keep your fingers crossed, Mary. What do I owe you, nurse? $42. That's six days of $7 a day. Now, wait a minute. You only dropped in for lunch the rest of the time you were skiing with Phil Harris. Well, I'm the off-door type. Well, then get out of here. Here's your money. Thank you, Mr. Benny. Goodbye. Goodbye. Come on, Philzy. Right with you, baby. So long, Jackson. See you in Hollywood. I'm gonna get dressed. Hand me my robe, Mary. Here you are. By the time he took that emblem off the back of it. Never mind that. Look at that. Golden gloves, $18.98. My father's robe. Now, Mary, call downstairs and have the room clerk make up the bill. Tell him I'm paying for everybody's room, but my nurse's boyfriend. Okay. Oh, Dennis, help me get my things packed, will you? Yes, Mr. Benny. Hello. The room clerk, please. Dennis, take all my shirts and socks out of the top drawer. Hello, room clerk. Will you please make up Mr. Benny's bill? We're checking out today. Dennis, hand me that suitcase. The larger one. Yes, everybody except Phil Harris. Will, I put the sweaters. Right in there and keep them together. How much does that amount to? Don't forget my skates. $198? And put them in my... $198. Well, have it itemized. Thank you. $198. I've been in bed since the first day here. Come on, Dennis, get going. Pack, pack, for heaven's sake. Yes, sir. Come in. Telegram for Jack Benny. Take it, Mary. Okay. Where do you want these pieces of skis put, Mr. Benny? Throw them in the fireplace. Who's the wire from, Mary? Fred Allen. Fred Allen? What does he say? All right, what does he say? He says, dear Jack, as long as you made it, happy birthday. Well, you can throw that in the fireplace, too. Dennis, not my underwear. I meant the telegram. Give me the poker, quick. Give me the poker.  Hope I didn't forget anything. That was quick, Mary. You all packed? Yeah. How did you like feel? Well, I can't put much weight on it yet, but it's all right. Rochester, did you get all the stuff out of the bathroom? My razor and everything? Yeah. Say, boss, do you want that old tube of shaving cream, too? Of course I want it. There isn't enough there to shave the fuzz off a peach. I have a very light beard, so get it. Now, let's see. The bellboy took the other four grips. Rochester, grab those two. Mary, help me with this big one, will you? Okay. Oh, now what? Come in. Well, well, how's my little patient today? You are here already, doctor. Oh, that's right. Goodbye. What a cluck. How'd you make out with him in that casino game, Rochester? Okay. What can I do with a step of the scope? You didn't have to go that far. I just wanted to square the bill. That's all.  All right. Now, grab those two bags and let's get moving. Come on, Mary. Is Dennis packed? Yeah, he's downstairs in the lobby. Now, let's get on our way. You go ahead, Rochester. We'll stop at the cashier's desk and take care of the bill. Oh, Don! Yes, Jack? Help everybody get their things in the car so we can get started. Okay. And by the way, Jack, I think that cannon idea is going to work out all right. What cannon idea?  Oh, yes, yes. Congratulations, Don. See you in the car. Oh, cashier, give me my bill, please. Here you are, sir. It's $198.40. 40 cents? Well, you just told Ms. Livingston on the phone that the bill was $198. What's the extra 40 cents for? There's a towel sticking out of your suitcase. I brought that with me. It's mine. Certainly. It says Blue Bell Auto Cord on it. Of course. I may got to check, young man, for $198. Now, let's see, the Owani Hotel. Now, how do you spell Owani? Owani? Hey, Eddie, how do you spell Owani? Owani? Hey, Bill, how do you spell Owani? Owani? Hey, Sam. Never mind. I'll just make it off the cash. That's good enough. You know, Owani is an Indian word. Yes, yes. I heard all about it. In fact, I'm an Indian myself. I know I can see where you were scowled. Now, here's your check. Thank you, sir, and a happy birthday. Fine birthday. Come on, Mary. Oh, Jack, here comes your doctor. Oh, yes. I might as well be nice to him and say goodbye. Oh, doctor? Yes. I'm checking out, and I just want to say goodbye to you. Goodbye, and I hope you've enjoyed your stay here. Oh, I have. It was very pleasant. I'd like to walk out to the car with you, but I've got to rush upstairs and see Jack Benny. He heard his leg. Well, listen, doctor, if you knock on Mr. Benny's door, and he says, come in, drop the conversation. Goodbye. Goodbye. I'm coming. I'm coming. Be right with you. Oh, Mr. Benny, Mr. Benny. Yes? You're wanted on the telephone. You can take it right here. Thank you. Who would be calling me here? Hello? Hello, is this Jack Benny? Yes. This is Western Union. We have a singing telegram for you from your father in Miami Beach. It's a birthday greeting. Oh, a singing telegram from Daddy? Well, that's cute. Go ahead. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday. Well, thank you very much. That was swell, really. Look, I've got to get away now. Happy birthday to you. Happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, happy birthday. Happy birthday to you. The car is awfully sweet of you, really. I...  What a happy, happy, happy birthday to you. Well, thank you. Thank you very much. You're welcome. Yes, you're welcome, Benny. Ladies and gentlemen, three weeks ago, when we told you about Jello Orange Vanilla Whip, we really started something. Letters have been coming in every day telling us how much folks have enjoyed this new Jello dessert. In fact, it's proved such a big hit that we've decided to give you this swell, easy recipe again for those of you who may have missed it the first time. Here's how it goes. Take one package each of orange jello and jello vanilla pudding and make them up as you usually do. Then chill the orange jello and whip it as directed on the box. Next, chill the jello vanilla pudding and add to the whipped jello, beating constantly until blended. Then mold and you have a grand, inexpensive treat, simply ideal for parties and special occasions. So, friends, be sure to try this intriguing new combination of golden orange jello and creamy jello vanilla pudding. It's really different, really delicious, really top. Way home now. This is the last number of the 21st program in the current Jello series. And we will be with you again next Sunday night at the same time from Hollywood, California. You know, Mary was thrilling being up in Yosemite, wasn't it? Yeah, I was swell. What are you laughing at? I'll never forget the expression on your face when you crash to the ski house. Boy, that was fun. Quiet, Dennis. Good night, folks. What an enjoyment for you. I'll see you again next Sunday night for another swell half-hour of Jello Entertainment, the famous Jello Aldrich family. See your local paper for time and station. This is a nice, well-broadcasted company.


Today I have the pleasure of speaking with Rob Cook from the CSE. How are you today Rob? I'm just great. Thanks Tracy. So let me ask you in the new edition of the market drivers Where are we taking you to? Oh back to the office. I got to work. Well, of course you have to work How many new listings have you had since I saw you last roundabout? Oh about 20 That was just a month ago right So in other words you continue to progress with your hockey stick. Yeah Expansion and growth. Oh, yeah, it's it's been it's been very gratifying this year You know we we profited from a fairly buoyant market, but At the same time, we're just getting people coming at us from all directions. So they They come to raise money Raised a lot of money our listed companies in November raised something like 1.2 billion dollars. I mean last year I think it was three and a half in the year Yeah, so it's it's it's around about five billion so far this year. So that's that's been great. Well, I think there's a lot of Incorrect data out there. So I I'm so happy you're able to join us. So is this market specific? I mean, I know there's rumors on the street. Oh, it's all cannabis growth But I've seen other types of companies list on the CSE. Can you talk to us about that? You have Well, we've had some interesting Tech companies list recently one called nerds on-site and they offer, you know, like sort of desktop support to Small businesses. They've been in business for 23 years They're located in London, Ontario, and they're doing a big expansion in the United States. They did an IPO Just listed a couple of weeks ago. Well, that's an excellent example because we had investor intel actually utilize nerds on-site But I think it's an excellent example where there's a misnomer's out there that many of your clients are just Canadian-based and I know nerds on-site for instance have expansion plans into the United States Yes, and many of your companies now are actually Americans coming to list on the CSE. Can you talk to us about that? Well, it's always been a bit cheaper to go public in Canada than in the United States and Currently we've experienced quite a few fairly large companies from the United States Most of them in the cannabis sector Not all of them are Cannabis growers or or sellers a lot of them are more suppliers and silvery businesses We just listed one called Cresco labs and they're in several states and they're providing services to Cannabis growers across the United States. So that's been very interesting And we continue to get a lot of interest from further afield Mexico, Colombia, Jamaica, I'm going to Jamaica in January for capital markets conference there Also Europe in Asia and even Israel So what you're saying is that the CSE is really non-global here in the last year or two or? Yes, we've always had a small number of Foreign issuers and it's still going to be a small proportion of our total list But the the interest is expanding So can you speak to your your market cap sizes now? I mean, I recall five six years ago when companies were electing where to list or doing their research many of the companies on the CSE were quite Microcaps right small, but now you have some fairly large players. It's right I mean our average market cap size used to be a little under ten million dollars now. It's over 30 and We've got about 30 companies right now with the market cap of at least a hundred million dollars We didn't use to have that and we've We've got a couple now that are over a billion So that's that's been quite good. I think the largest topped out around three and a half four billion dollars Say I'm a company in London for instance. Yeah What would I do in order to list on the CSE? No, are you talking the UK? Are you talking in Canada? So, uh, yes the UK Right. Okay. Well, the simple thing is is you know to go public in Canada first of all and if you do like there's a new Small market in in the UK called any acts or necks and they will recognize the CSE listed company and You know listed on the basis that it's already listed on the CSE We tend to help the companies that come to us. We introduce them to the capital markets Find them legal and accounting services Introduce them to investment dealers that can raise them capital that kind of thing. So Haven't seen a lot of companies come from the UK But we've recently had a couple that caught up and said yeah, just what is it about the CSE that's attracting so many companies We're quite interested. Well, let me ask you that question then What is attracting these companies to the CSE? What do you think your competitive advantage is? well, our competitive advantage has always been that We're we're very cost-effective Our mission statement is to lower the cost of capital for emerging companies that are going public and We've had some success at doing that So that has resulted in increased activity increased activity has resulted in more visibility For the companies and it's attracted more interest Well, Rob, thank you so much for squeezing us in today. We're almost at the CSE Okay, that's good because I got to go back because we're gonna approve two more companies probably within the hour


Hi, my name is Bailey Maples and I'm a Senior Program Manager at TechSoup. Today, I'm going to show you how you can create a form in Asana to help coordinate client food pickups. The great thing about using Asana Forms is that it generates a URL that you can embed on your website, Facebook page, include in a digital newsletter, and more. You can edit that form as much as you need, whenever you need. And the URL stays the same, so you don't need to worry about changing it on your site. For this example, I'm in my Food Pickup Request project, and to create a form, I select Customize in the upper right hand corner and scroll down to Forms. To save some time, I've already started a form, but I'll go ahead and edit it, selecting this icon. For this form, I've already set up some basic required fields, such as name. But you can customize this as much as you want. So for example, I created a section for dietary restrictions, and I made it required so that folks have to fill it out. I created a separate section to capture food preferences, and it's not required. Because although it's important to know food preferences, it may not be as important as knowing dietary restrictions. I've also created a section for Preferred Confirmation Method, as well as a place to capture phone and email address. I've also selected a number of fields that captures how many folks need food so that we can ensure that we have the proper amount of food for that client at pickup. One missing piece is getting a date preference as to when a client would like to pick up this order. So I'm going to drag a date field over, and I'm going to say, please provide your preferred day for pickup. I'm going to make this a required field, and I'm going to connect this field to a due date so that this can help us whenever we need to schedule the pickup. And I'm going to go ahead and select Done. Now that I have the form complete, those new submissions will go under the section New Submission. I'm going to change my project view to make it easier to see what submissions we have in this section. So now I can see each tile is a new submission, and new requests will just go in this section. Next, I'm going to set up a rule by going to Customize and selecting Rule. I'll create a custom rule so that when a new submission is in that section I created, it will automatically assign it to myself. And I'll select Create Rule. Now, whenever a new submission comes in, it will be automatically assigned to myself, and I'll get an alert in my inbox. Now that we've created a form and we've set up a rule, let's see what a new submission would look like. So this is what the client would see, and let's just quickly fill out this information. We'll have the date be next Monday, and we'll select that, and then submit. From our side, we can see there's a new submission. It was automatically assigned to me, and the pick update is for August 15th, which will help us when scheduling. To schedule this pickup request, we have several different options depending on what works best with your organization and the employees or volunteers that you work with. So one option that we have is we can have a food pickup calendar project in Asana, which will show us which days food pickup appointments occur. So for that, I'm going to go into the task that was submitted, and I'm going to add this task to another project, and we're going to say let's add it to the pickup calendar. Now this task will also show up on our calendar, right here. And we can have all the same information be captured from the original submission. Because this is a different project, we can edit this information, and it won't do anything to that original submission. So if we wanted to have this calendar project have guests that are volunteers, we can do so, and we can delete any information that we may want to keep private. We can also reassign this task to someone else if they're going to be in charge, and it again won't edit that original submission. If we want to sync this calendar to Outlook, we can do so. We just need to select this down arrow, and then we'll go to export and sync to calendar, and we'll select Outlook. Now before we do this, we'll want to keep these things in mind. The tasks need to be marked as incomplete, and they need to have due dates. That date will transfer onto the calendar in Outlook. We also want to make sure that we keep in mind that information from Asana will sync to Outlook. But if we make any edits in Outlook, it won't sync back to Asana. So if there's edits, we need to do them in Asana. So if we select this link, it will download a calendar, and when we click it, it will open up Outlook, and we'll see the new calendar has been added. If we go next week, we can see those tasks that we created, and the information transfers from Asana. And just like that, we created an intake form for schedule and food pickups. We created a calendar project in Asana, and we synced that calendar with Outlook.


Before we head over into my wood lot to tap a few maple trees to get some sap, I'd like to talk briefly about tree identification. This book I picked up several years ago. It's a Centennial book that the Maine Forest Service put out of trees in Maine. And I've always had a problem identifying some trees.  So, you know, some trees such as maple, there's several different types of maple. There's Norway maple, red maple, rock maple or sugar maple. And it's had for me to identify one tree from another. So I picked up this book, which is a great guide to tree identification. And I turned it to, so I wanted to just say that this is a great book. If you want to identify a lot of Maine trees, this is a great book to reference book to go to. But as far as maple trees go, how do I identify these different types of maple? And I've found that the red maple, which you can see here the leaf, has kind of jagged edges on it. Going around has kind of a jagged edge. Whereas the sugar maple or rock maple, the edges are more smooth. It looks very similar in shape, but the only difference is the edges of it. To look at the back of a maple tree, for me, it's pretty doggone had to identify a tree by the back. But by the leaf, you can see the difference. So we're about ready to go over to my wood lot, set out a few buckets, see what we can get today. This morning is about 14 degrees. It's supposed to get up into the 30s, I believe today. So this might not be a good run sap day. Usually, you know, to get up into the 40s would be much better run. But anyway, we're setting them out and tomorrow's supposed to be a real good warm days and a cold night, which is what you need. We should get a pretty good sap run tomorrow. So we'll head over to the wood lot. Headed over to my wood lot. You can hear the rattling in the back probably of the buckets and the covers and so forth. And I gotta tell you, I'm a real novice at the sap collecting. I only started it like three years ago. You know, when I was a kid, my mother used to tap the maple trees, which were on the front lawn, and she would boil it down in the house. And one time, she was multitasking, as she often did, trying to get three or four things gone at one time and left the sap on the wood stove and it got down to the stage where it was ready to turn into syrup. But it boiled a little too hard and she went out to check it and the sap was, the sugar was dripping from the ceiling. We had a metal ceiling in the kitchen at that time. The sap was, it overcooked and was, the steam was full of syrup and it was a sticky mess she had to clean up. So much for multitasking. But my wood lot, I have a wood lot which used to be my parents of 125 acres. And it's a mixed growth, a lot of pine, a lot of different types of trees on it. But this one particular area, which I have started to cut out the underbrush and cut out the green growth and just let the hardwood come, which is mostly maple and it is mostly red maple. And I find that red maple doesn't seem to produce as much sap as the rock maple or sugar maple does. But it does produce sap and it does boil down and make some nice maple syrup. So we were about a mile away from the wood lot and I will soon be there. Yeah, here we are at the wood lot, headed in the woods road. As you can see this is mainly pine here with a lot of young, young growth coming up in between it. I have a guy come in every so often to do some selective cutting and which has worked out well for keeping the lot active and you know, generating a little money to pay the taxes and so forth and keep it cleaned up. This area on the left hand side here is the area which I had been started, I guess it's about three years ago I started to try to thin it out and keep the nice maples, the young maples coming. As you can see there's a lot of young growth here, some that you know, maybe anywhere from four to six inches in diameter, which is too small to tap really. I think they recommend a tree which is at least eight to ten inches in diameter would be eligible for tapping and as you can see I put out some buckets the other day and have collected some sap here yesterday. So you can see I still have a lot of work to do down through there. I really want to thin it out and get rid of the green growth out of there so it lets more light in for the maples and mainly this lot has just red maples. Very few if any sugar maples are in this area but it does as I say it does produce and so it's kind of a fun thing to do and keeps me active and so that's why I do it and I love maple syrup. So we're going to pack up here or have a saw mill here which produces some stuff for us to build with or whatever. Right now in the winter we don't do much sawing but we're going to we're going to tap down through this area here on the left hand side which has cleaned out to some degree and a lot of rattling going on here and we'll go to work tapping. We've got different, they got all kinds of taps out now these are some of the old taps that they use. You drill a hole into the tree which we have a drill here which is made for for this and this this tap is like a seven sixteenths tap. They have three eighths taps. They also have plastic taps and tubes which you can use you know on big operations you can string lines, plastic lines through the woods and collect it that way. You don't have buckets, you have you know a central place for the sap to run and and collect it at one spot but this is just a rinky-dink operation here and and we're putting out the buckets and and just having a good timing. So these are the covers which will go on top of the buckets to keep rain and snow out which work really well. These are galvanized buckets and they also have I have some aluminum buckets so all right we'll just gather up our stuff and head in.  So last year I tried to I was always thinking that the south side of the tree would be the best side because the sun hits it and you'd get the most production of sap but I'm not so sure that's that's always true. This drill you drill a hole about inch and a half deep and and that that type of drill which made special for that is cleans all the chips out of the hole. I'm going to put the tap in the hole and I got this little hammer I drive it in as far as I can drive it. Set the bucket on it just like that and we'll be putting a cover on top of it. Sometimes the sap instantly starts to come but I haven't you know it's just too cold this morning. Pretty pretty easy this is the easy part of the operation when you got to haul around a bucket and collect from each tree that gets a little more labor-intensive. The wind last night blew that cover off but this is where I grew up and my parents house and these trees here this tree and that tree my mother planted uh it doesn't seem like that many years ago that big maple there and this big maple and the one over there were here when I was a kid and there used to be two more up here and one more down here used to be like six trees here and uh they're gone but these are rock maple here sugar maples and I don't know if they're warm enough for the sap to be running you can see a little bit frozen on the bottom of that but seems like the rock maple or sugar maple the sugar content of those trees seem to be higher than the red maple we checked them the other day when I took them over to a Waynes who who uh does the evaporating of my sap I don't have a facility to do it he does he has a sap house and he taps himself so I take all my stuff over to him we work out a deal on you know he keeps half what it produces and and I get the other half which is a good deal for me because boiling down is really time consuming and you have to be right on top of it all the time we checked my buckets with a sugar maple and it was like three percent sugar with a hydrometer and we checked some in of the sap that I got from the red maple and it was just under two percent so there was a there was a difference that way so I think probably because of the sugar maple you know the content of sugar is much higher so I guess we can't see it dripping right now but you know it is cold here and and I bet tomorrow it'll be running good so we'll check check again tomorrow about all I'm going to do today I may put out a few uh of the plastic taps and in lines this afternoon I got a few more trees that I could tap over in the wood lot but uh I guess that about does it for the day and stay tuned we may have another episode take care


It happened that having nothing to do one July evening, I drove to the station for the newspapers.  The sun had set some time before, and an unbroken gray dust clay all over the land. The muckish sweet scents of the grass and flowers were heavy in the motionless stagnant air. I was driving in a rough trolley. In my back the gardener's son Pascha, a boy of eight years old whom I had taken with me to look after the horse in case of necessity, was gently snoring, with his head on a sack of oats. Our way lay along a narrow by-road, straight as a ruler, which lay hid like a great snake in the tall thick rye. There was a pale light from the afterglow of sunset, a streak of light cut its way through a narrow uncouth-looking cloud, which seemed sometimes like a boat, and sometimes like a man wrapped in a quilt. I had driven a mile and a half or two miles, when against the pale background of the evening glow there came into sight, one after another, some graceful tall poplars, a river glimmered beyond them, and a gorgeous picture suddenly, as though by magic, lay stretched before me. I had to stop the horse, for our straight road broke off abruptly and ran down a steep incline overgrown with bushes. We were standing on the hillside, and beneath us at the bottom lay a huge hole full of twilight, a fantastic shapes, and of space. At the bottom of this hole, in a wide plain guarded by the poplars and caressed by the gleaming river, nestled a village, who was now sleeping. Its huts, its church with the belfry, its trees, stood out against the gray twilight, and were reflected darkly in the smooth surface of the river. I waked posture for fear it would fall out, and began cautiously going down. Have we got to Lukova? asked Pashka, lifting his head lazily. Yes, hold the reins. I let the horse down the hill and looked at the village. At the first glance one strange circumstance caught my attention. At the very bottom of the belfry, in the tiny window between the cupola and the bells, a light was twinkling. The light was like that of a smoldering lamp, at one moment dying down, at another flickering up. What could it come from? Its source was beyond my comprehension. It could not be burning in the window, for there were neither icons nor lamps at the top torrent of the belfry. There was nothing there, as I knew, but beams, dust, and spider's webs. It was hard to climb up into that torrent, for the passage to it from the belfry was closely blocked up. It was more likely than anything else to be the reflection of some outside light, but, though I strained my eyes to the utmost, I could not see one speck of light in the vast expanse that lay before me. There was no moon. The pale and by now quite dim streak of the afterglow could not have been reflected, for the window looked not to the west, but to the east. These and other similar circumstances were straying through my mind all the while that I was going down the slope with the horse. At the bottom I sat down by the roadside, and looked again at the light, as before it was glimmering and flaring up. Strange, I thought, lost in conjecture, very strange.  At first I thought that this was vexation at not being able to explain this simple phenomenon. But afterwards, when I suddenly turned away from the light and horror, and caught hold of Pashka with one hand, it became clear that I was overcome with terror. I was seized with a feeling of loneliness, misery and horror, as though I had been flung down against my will into this great hole full of shadows, where I was standing all alone with the belfry looking at me with its red eye. Pashka, I cried, closing my eyes in horror. Well? Pashka, what's that gleaming in the belfry? Pashka looked over my shoulder at the belfry and gave a yawn. Who can tell? Who can tell? This brief conversation with the boy reassured me for a little, but not for long. Pashka, seeing my uneasiness, fastened his big eyes upon the light, looked at me again, and then again at the light. I am frightened, he whispered. At this point, besides myself with terror, I clutched the boy with one hand, huddled up to him, and gave the horse a violent lash. It's stupid, I said to myself. That phenomenon is only terrible because I don't understand it. Everything else we don't understand is mysterious. I tried to persuade myself, but at the same time I did not leave off lashing the horse. When we reached the posting station I purposely stayed for a full hour chatting with the overseer, and read through two or three newspapers, but the feeling of uneasiness did not lead me. On the way back the light was not to be seen, but on the other hand the silhouettes of the huts, of the poplars, and of the hill up which I had to drive, seen to me as though animated, and why the light was there I don't know to this day. The second terror I experienced was excited by a circumstance no less trivial. I was returning from a romantic interview. It was one o'clock at night, the time when nature is buried in the soundest, sweetest sleep before the dawn. That time nature was not sleeping, and one could not call the night a still one. Windcracks, quails, nightingales, and woodchucks were calling. Crickets and grasshoppers were chirping. There was a light mist over the grass, and clouds were scurrying straight ahead across the sky near the moon. Nature was awake, as though afraid of missing the best moments of her life. I walked along a narrow path at the very edge of a railway embankment. The moonlight glided over the lines which were already covered with dew. Great shadows from the clouds kept flitting over the embankment. Far ahead a dim green light was glimmering peacefully. So, everything is well, I thought, looking at them. I had a quiet, peaceful, comfortable feeling in my heart. I was returning from a trist. I had no need to hurry. I was not sleepy, and I was conscious of youth and health in every sigh, every step I took, rousing a dull echo in the monotonous hum of the night. I don't know what I was feeling then, but I remember I was happy. Very happy. I had gone not more than three-quarters of a mile when I suddenly heard, behind me, a monotonous sound, a rumbling, rather like the roar of a great stream. It grew louder and louder every second, and sounded nearer and nearer. I looked round. A hundred paces from me was the dark cups from which I had only just come. Near the embankment turned to the right in a graceful curve, and vanished among the trees. I stood still in perplexity and waited. A huge black body appeared at once in the turn, noisily darted towards me, and with the swiftness of a bird flew past me along the rails. Less than half a minute passed, and the blur had vanished. The rumble melted away into the noise of the night. It was an ordinary good-struck. There was nothing peculiar about it in itself, but its appearance, without an engine, and in the night puzzled me. Where could it have come from, and what force sent it flying so rapidly along the rails? Where did it come, and from where was it flying to? If I had been superstitious, I should have made up my mind that it was a party of demons and witches journeying to a devil's sabbath, and should have gone on my way. But, as it was, the phenomenon was absolutely inexplicable to me. I did not believe my eyes, and was entangled in conjectures, like a fly in a spider's web. I suddenly realized that I was utterly alone on the whole vast plain, that the night which by now seemed inhospitable was peeping into my face and dogging my footsteps. All the sounds, the cries of the birds, the whispering of the trees seemed sinister, and existing simply to alarm my imagination. I dashed on like a madman, and without realizing what I was doing I ran, trying to run faster and faster, and at once I heard something to which I paid no attention before, that is, the plaintive whining of the telegraph wires. This is beyond everything, I said, trying to shame myself. It's cowardice! It's silly! But cowardice was stronger than common sense. I only slackened my pace when I reached the green light, where I saw a dark signal box, and near it, on the embankment, the figure of a man, probably the signal man. Did you see it? I asked breathlessly. See whom? What? Why, a truck ran by. I saw it, the peasants said reluctantly. It broke away from the good strain. There is an incline at the nineteenth mile. The train is dragged uphill. The coupling on the last truck gave way, so it broke off and ran back. There is no catching it now. The strange phenomenon was explained, and its fantastic character vanished. My panic was over, and I was able to go on my way. My third fright came upon me when I was going home from stand shooting in early spring. It was in the dusk of evening. The forest road was covered with pools from a recent shower of rain, and the earth squelched under one's feet. The crimson glow of sunset flooded the whole forest, coloring the white stems of the birches and the young leaves. I was exhausted and could hardly move. Four or five miles from home, walking along the forest road, I suddenly met a big black dog of the water-spaniel breed. As he ran by, the dog looked intently at me, straight in my face, and ran on. A nice dog, I thought. Whose is it? I looked around.  For a minute we scanned each other in silence. Then the dog, probably flattered by my attention, came slowly up to me and wagged his tail. I walked on. The dog followed me. Whose dog can it be? I kept asking myself, where does he come from? I knew all the country gentry for twenty or thirty miles around, and knew all their dogs. Not one of them had a spaniel like that. How did he come to be in the depths of the forest on a track used for nothing but carting timber? He could hardly have dropped behind someone passing through, for there was nowhere for the gentry to drive to along the road. I sat down on a stump to rest, and began scrutinizing my companion. He too sat down, raised his head, and fastened upon me an intense stare. He gazed at me without blinking. I don't know whether it was the influence of the stillness, the shadows and sounds of the forest, or perhaps a result of exhaustion, but I suddenly felt uneasy under the gaze of his ordinary doggy eyes. I thought of Faust and his bulldog, and of the fact that nervous people sometimes, when exhausted, have hallucinations. That was enough to get me up hurriedly and hurriedly walked on. The dog followed me. Go away! I shouted.  Go away! I shouted again. The dog looked around, stared at me intently, and wagged his tail good-humoredly. Evidently my threatening tone amused him. I ought to have patted him, but I could not get Faust's dog out of my head, and the feeling of panic grew more and more acute.  The same thing happened as with the light in the belfry and the truck on the railway. I could not stand it and rushed away. At home I found a visitor, an old friend, who, after greeting me, began to complain that as he was driving to me he had lost his way in the forest, and a splendid, valuable dog of his had dropped behind. The Rout of the White Hazards by Rudyard Kipling, read by Beth Ann. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Rout of the White Hazards. It was not in the open fight we threw away the sword, but in the lonely watching in the darkness by the fjord. The waters lapped, the night wind blew, full-armed the fear was born and grew, and we were flying, ere we knew, from panic in the night, beyond the bar. Some people hold that an English cavalry regiment cannot run. This is a mistake. I have seen 437 sabers flying over the face of the country in abject terror, have seen the best regiment that ever drew bridle wiped off the army list for the space of two hours. If you repeat this tell to the White Hazards, they will in all probability treat you severely. They are not proud of the incident. You may know the White Hazards by their side, which is greater than that of all the cavalry regiments on the rooster. If this is not the sufficient mark, you may know them by their old brandy. It has been sixty years in the mess, and is worth going far to taste. Ask for the Magare old brandy, and see that you get it. If the mess sergeant thinks that you are uneducated, and that the genuine article will be lost on you, he will treat you accordingly. He is a good man. But when you are at mess, you must never talk to your hosts about forced marches or long-distance rides. The mess are very sensitive, and if they think that you are laughing at them, we'll tell you so. As the White Hazards say, it was all the colonels fault. He was a new man, and he ought never to have taken the command. He said that the regiment was not smart enough. This to the White Hazards who knew that they could walk round any horse, and through any guns, and over any foot on the face of the earth. That insult was the first cause of offense. Then the colonel cast the drum horse. The drum horse of the White Hazards. Perhaps you do not see what an unspeakable crime he had committed. I will try to make it clear. The soul of the regiment lives in the drum horse who carries his silver kettle drums. He is nearly always a big piebald whaler. That is a point of honor, and a regiment will spend anything you please on a piebald. He is beyond the ordinary laws of casting. His work is very light, and he only maneuvers at a foot pace. Wherefore, so long as he can step out and look handsome, his well-being is assured. He knows more about the regiment than the adjutant, and could not make a mistake if he tried. The drum horse of the White Hazards was only 18 years old, and perfectly equal to his duties. He had at least six years more work in him, and carried himself with all the pomp and dignity of a drum major of the guards. The regiment had paid 1,200 rupees for him. But the colonel said that he must go, and he was cast in due form and replaced by a washy bay beast as ugly as a mule with an ewe neck, rat tail, and cow hawks. The drummer detested that animal, and the best of the bandhorses put back their ears and showed the whites of their eyes at the very sight of him. They knew him for an upstart and no gentlemen. I found see that the colonel's ideas of smartness extended to the band, and that he wanted to make it take part in the regular parade movements. A cavalry band is a sacred thing. It only turns out for commanding officers' parades, and the bandmaster is one degree more important than the colonel. He is a high priest, and the Kil'Rau is his holy song. The Kil'Rau is the calvary trot, and the man who has never heard that tune rising above the rattle of the regiment going past the saluting base has something yet to understand. When the colonel cast the drum horse to the white hizars, there was nearly a mutiny. The officers were angry, the regiment were furious, and the bandsmen swore like troopers. The drum horse was going to be put up to auction, public auction, to be bought perhaps by a parsey and put into a cart. It was worse than exposing the inner life of the regiment to the whole world or selling the mess plate to a Jew, a black Jew. The colonel was a mean man and a bully. He knew what the regiment thought about his action, and when the troopers offered to buy the drum horse, he said that their offer was mutinous and forbidden by the regulations. But one of the subalterns, Hobing Yale, an Irishman, bought the drum horse for 160 rupees at the sale, and the colonel was wroth. Yale professed repentance. He was a naturally submissive, and said that, since he had only made the purchase to save the horse from possible little treatment and service, he would now shoot him and end the business. This appeared to soothe the colonel, for he wanted the drum horse disposed of. He felt that he had made a mistake, and could not, of course, acknowledge it. Meantime, the presence of the drum horse was an annoyance to him. Yale took to himself a glass of the old brandy, three shiroots, and his friend Martin. And they all left the mess together. All in Martin conferred for two hours in Yale's quarters, but only the bull terrier who keeps watch over Yale's boot-trees knows what they said. A horse hooded and sheeded to his ears, left Yale's stables, and was taken, very unwillingly, into the civil lines. Yale's groom went with him. Two men broke into the regimental theater and took several paintpots and some large scenery brushes. Then night fell over the can-tunement, and there was a noise as of a horse kicking his loose box to pieces in Yale's stables. Yale had a big, old, white, whaler trap horse. The next day was a Thursday, and the men, hearing that Hogan Yale was going to shoot the drum horse in the evening, determined to give the beast a regular regimental funeral, a finer one than they would have given the colonel had he died just then. They got a bullock cart and some sacking and mounds and mounds of roses, and the body under the sacking was carried out to the place where the anthrax cases were cremated. Two-thirds of the regiment following. There was no band, but they all sang to place where the old horse died as something respectful and appropriate to the occasion. When the corpse was dumped into the grave and the men began throwing down armfuls of roses to cover it, the farrier sergeant ripped out an oath and said aloud, Why, it ain't the drum horse any more than it's made. The troop sergeant majors asked him whether he had left his head in the canteen. The farrier sergeant said that he knew the drum horse's feet as well as he knew his own, but he was silenced when he saw the regimental number burnt in on the poor, stiff, upturned near four. This was the drum horse of the white Hazzars buried, the farrier sergeant grumbling. The sacking that covered the corpse was smeared in places with black paint, and the farrier sergeant drew attention to this fact. But the troop sergeant major of E.E. Troop kicked him severely on the shin and told him that he was undoubtedly drunk. On the Monday following the burial, the Colonel sought revenge on the white Hazzars. Unfortunately, being at that time temporarily in command of the station, he ordered a brigade filled day. He said that he wished to make the regiment sweat for their damned insolence, and he carried out his notion thoroughly. That Monday was one of the hardest in the memory of the white Hazzars. They were thrown against the skeleton's enemy and pushed forward and withdrawn and dismounted and scientifically handled in every possible fashion over a dusty country till they sweated profusely. Their only amusement came late in the day when they fell upon a battery of horse archery and chased it for two miles. This was a personal question, and most of the troopers had money on the event. The gunners saying openly that they had the legs of the white Hazzars. They were wrong. A march pass concluded the campaign, and when the regiment got back to their lines, the men were coated with dirt from the spur to chin strap. The white Hazzars have one great and peculiar privilege. They won it at Fontenwright, I think. Many regiments possess special rights, such as wearing collars with undress uniform or a bow of ribbons between the shoulders, or red and white roses in their helmets on certain days of the year. Some rights are connected with regimental saints and some with regimental successes. All are valued highly, but none so highly as the right of the white Hazzars to have the band playing when their horses are being watered in the lines. Only one tune is played and that tune never varies. I don't know its real name, but the white Hazzars call it Take Me to London again. It sounds very pretty. The regiment would sooner be struck off the roaster than forgo their distinction. After the dismiss was sounded, the officers rode off home to prepare for stables, and the men filed into the lines writing easy. That is to say, they opened their tight buttons, shifted their helmets and began to joke or to swear as the humor took them. The more careful slipping off and easing girths and curbs. A good trooper values his mount exactly as much as he values himself and believes, or should believe, that the two together are irresistible where women or men, girls or guns are concerned. Then the orderly officer gave the order Water Horses. And the regiment loafed off to the squadron troughs which were in rear of the stables and between these and the barracks. There were four huge troughs, one for each squadron, arranged an echelon so that the whole regiment could water in ten minutes if it liked. But it lingered for seventeen as a rule while the band played. The band struck up as the squadrons filed off to the troughs, and the men slipped their feet out of the stirrups and chafed each other. The sun was just setting in a big, hot bed of red cloud, and the road to the civil line seemed to run straight into the sun's eye. There was a little dot on the road. It grew and grew till it showed as a horse with a sort of gird-iron thing on his back. The red cloud glared through the bars of the gird-iron.  I thought they almost got on him! In another minute they heard a neigh. But every soul, horse, and man in the regiment knew, and saw heading straight towards the band, the dead drum-horse of the white hazzars. On his withers banged and bumped the kettle-drum strapped in crepe, and on his back very stiff and shoulder-leaf set a bare- headed skeleton. The band stopped playing. For a moment there was a hush. Then someone in e-troop, men said it was the sergeant major, swung his horse round and yelled. No one can account exactly for what happened afterwards, but it seemed that at least one man in e-troop set an example of panic, and the rest followed like sheep. The horses that had barely put their muzzles into the troughs reared and capered. But as soon as the band broke, which it did when the ghost of the drum-horse was about a fur-long distant, all hooves followed suit, and the clatter of the stampede, quite different from the orderly throb and roar of a movement on parade, where the rough horse-play of watering and camp made them only more terrified. They felt that the men on their backs were afraid of something. When horses once know that, all is over except the butchery. Troop after troop turned from the troughs and ran anywhere and everywhere like spilt quicksilver. It was the most extraordinary spectacle for men and horses were in all stages of easiness and the carbine buckets flopping against their sides urged the horses on. Men were shouting and cursing and trying to pull clear of the band which was being chased by the drum-horse whose rider had fallen forward and seemed to be spurring for a wager. The Colonel had gone over to the mess for a drink. Most of the officers were with him and the sub-altern of the day was preparing to go down to the lines and receive the watering reports from the troop sergeant-majors. When Take Me to London again stopped after twenty bars everyone in the mess said, what on earth has happened? A minute later they heard unmilitary noises and saw far across the plain the white azar scattered and broken and flying. The Colonel was speechless with rage for he thought that the regiment had risen against him or was unanimously drunk. The band, a disorganized mob, tore past and at its heels labored the drum-horse, the dead and buried drum-horse with the jolting clattering skeleton. Hogan Yale whispered softly to Martin, new weather will storm that treatment. And the band, which had doubled like a hair, came back again. But the rest of the regiment was gone, was riding all over the province. For the dusk had shut in and each man was howling to his neighbor that the drum-horse was on his flank. Troop horses are far too tenderly treated as a rule. They can, on emergencies, do a great deal, even with 17 stone on their backs as the troopers found out. How long this panic lasted, I cannot say. I believe that when the moon rose and the men saw they had nothing to fear and, by two and three and half troops, crept back into can-tunements very much ashamed of themselves. Meantime, the drum-horse disgusted at his treatment by old friends, pulled up, wheeled around and trotted up to the mess around as steps for bread. No one liked to run, but no one cared to go or forward till the Colonel had made some movement and laid hold of the skeleton's foot. The band had halted some distance away and now came back slowly. The Colonel called it individually and collectively every evil name that occurred to him at the time, for he had set his hand on the bosom of the drum-horse and found flesh and blood. Then he beat the kettle-drums with his clenched fist and discovered that they were but made of silvered paper and bamboo. Next, still swearing, he tried to drag the skeleton out of the saddle, but found that it had been wired into the candle. The sight of the Colonel, with his arms around the skeleton's pelvis and his knee in the old drum-horse's stomach, was striking. Not to say amusing. He worried the thing off in a minute or two and threw it down on the ground, saying to the band, Here you cause, that's what you're afraid of. The skeleton did not look pretty in the twilight. The band sergeant seemed to recognize it, for he began to chuckle and choke. Shall I take it away, sir? said the band sergeant. Yes, said the Colonel.  The band sergeant saluted, hoisted the skeleton across the saddle-bow and led off to the stables. Then the Colonel began to make inquiries for the rest of the regiment and the language he used was wonderful. He would disband the regiment. He would court-martial every soul in it. He would not command such a set of rabble and so on and so on. As the men dropped in, his language grew wilder until, at last, it exceeded the utmost limits of free speech allowed even to a Colonel of horse. Martin took Yale aside and suggested compulsory retirement from the service as a necessity when all was discovered. Martin was the weaker man of the two. Hoban Yale put up his eyebrows and remarked, firstly, that he was the son of a Lord and, secondly, that he was as innocent as the babe unborn of the theatrical resurrection of the drum horse. My instructions, said Yale, with a singularly sweet smile, where that recant Bach as expressively as possible, I ask you, am I responsible if a mule-hitted friend sends some Bach in such a manner as to disturb the peace of mind of a regiment of Her Majesty's Calvary? Martin said, you are a great man and will in time become a general, but I give my trance of a troop to be surfed out to this affair. Providence saved and led the Colonel away to the little curtain alcove wherein the subalterns of the White Hazards were accustomed to play poker of knights and there, after many oaths on the Colonel's part, they talked together in low tones. I fancy that the second in command must have represented the scare as the work of some trooper whom it would call us, said the second in command who had a fine imagination, they will call us the fly by knights, they will call us the ghost hunters, they will nickname us from one end of the army list to the other. All the explanation the world won't make the outsiders understand that the officers were away when the panic began. For the honour of the regiment and for your own made to see gently and by degrees that it was obviously impossible to court-martial the whole regiment and equally impossible to proceed against any subaltern who in his belief had any concern in the hoax. But the base alive, it's never been short at all, shouted the Colonel. It's flat, flagrant disobedience. I've not a man broke for this dumb sightless, they're the Colonel and wrestled with him for half an hour. At the end of that time regimental sergeant major reported himself. The situation was a rather novel one to him but he was not a man to be put out by circumstances. He saluted and said regiment will come back sir. Then to propitiate the Colonel on none of the horses and he was crying the night. The sergeant withdrew. His little stroke of humor pleased the Colonel and further he felt slightly ashamed of the language he had been using. The second in command worried him again and the two sat talking far into the night. Next day but one there was a commanding officer's parade and the Colonel who rang the White Hosars vigorously. The pitch of his speech made people of cutting up the whole regiment he should return to his post of pride at the head of the band but the regiment were set of ruffians with bad consciences. The White Hosars shouted and threw everything movable about them into the air and when the parade was over they cheered the Colonel till they couldn't speak. No these little things would share popularity and do not in the least affect discipline but I went bark on my word said the Colonel Never mind said the second in command the White Hosars would follow you anywhere from today regiments are just like women they will do anything for trinketry. A week later Hogan Yell received an extraordinary letter and asked for the return of our skeleton which we have reason to believe is in your possession Who with a deuce is this lunatic who threads and bones said Hogan Yell beg your pardon sir to the band children for the skeleton is with me and I will turn it if you'll pay the carriage to the civil lines if you doubt the story and know where to go you can see the date on the skeleton but don't mention the matter to the White Hosars I happen to know something about it because I prepared the drum horse for his resurrection he did not take kindly to the skeleton at all end of the route of the White Hosars by


1. During the COVID-19 pandemic, critically ill patients have been hospitalized and strictly isolated. In March 2020, palliative care clinicians at the University of Wisconsin were asked to bridge a gap in communication between patients' families and critical care teams, as bedside demands overwhelmed the critical care team's capacity to provide consistent communication with family. 2. In response, we adapted an established intervention called best-case-slash-worst-case to support daily conversations between hospital-based clinicians and out-of-hospital family. Our original best-case-slash-worst-case intervention was designed specifically for Phase 2. This article was authored by Margaret L. Schwartz, Amy Zelensky, Nathan D. Baggett and others.