𐑞 ·𐑚𐑻𐑯𐑼𐑛 𐑖𐑷 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑

𐑚𐑲 ·𐑐. 𐑸. 𐑛. 𐑥𐑩𐑒𐑸𐑔𐑦

[𐑦𐑒𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑨𐑒𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 ·𐑣𐑭𐑕, 𐑢., ·𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑𐑕 𐑓 𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑤𐑦𐑖, ·𐑥𐑨𐑯𐑗𐑧𐑕𐑑𐑼 𐑿𐑯𐑦𐑝𐑺𐑕𐑦𐑑𐑦 𐑐𐑮𐑧𐑕 (1969)]

𐑞 ·𐑚𐑻𐑯𐑼𐑛 𐑖𐑷 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑 (𐑹 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯, 𐑨𐑟 𐑦𐑑 𐑣𐑨𐑟 𐑒𐑳𐑥 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑒𐑷𐑤𐑛), 𐑮𐑧𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑟𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑕 𐑩𐑯 𐑩𐑑𐑧𐑥𐑐𐑑 𐑑 𐑷𐑤𐑑𐑼 𐑞 𐑥𐑴𐑛 𐑝 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑤𐑦𐑖—𐑯 𐑳𐑤𐑑𐑦𐑥𐑩𐑑𐑤𐑦 𐑐𐑼𐑣𐑨𐑐𐑕 𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑤𐑨𐑙𐑜𐑢𐑦𐑡—𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑦𐑟 𐑷𐑤𐑥𐑴𐑕𐑑 𐑛𐑲𐑩𐑥𐑧𐑑𐑮𐑦𐑒𐑤𐑦 𐑩𐑐𐑴𐑟𐑛 𐑑 𐑷𐑤 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑐𐑴𐑟𐑩𐑤𐑟 𐑓 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑤𐑦𐑙 𐑮𐑦𐑓𐑹𐑥 (𐑦𐑯 𐑦𐑑𐑕 𐑢𐑲𐑛𐑩𐑕𐑑 𐑕𐑧𐑯𐑕) 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑚𐑰𐑯 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑒𐑳𐑕𐑑 𐑳𐑐 𐑑𐑦𐑤 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑧𐑟𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑦𐑯 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑕𐑽𐑦𐑟,—𐑦𐑯 𐑐𐑼𐑑𐑦𐑒𐑿𐑤𐑼 𐑞 𐑒𐑩𐑥𐑐𐑤𐑰𐑑 𐑪𐑐𐑩𐑟𐑦𐑑 𐑝 𐑞 𐑕𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑩𐑥 𐑒𐑷𐑤𐑛 𐑯𐑿 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑤𐑦𐑙 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑲 𐑥𐑲𐑕𐑧𐑤𐑓 𐑕𐑐𐑴𐑒 𐑩𐑚𐑬𐑑 𐑣𐑽 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑕𐑴 𐑤𐑪𐑙 𐑩𐑜𐑴.

𐑯𐑿 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑤𐑦𐑙—𐑤𐑧𐑑 𐑥𐑰 𐑮𐑦𐑥𐑲𐑯𐑛 𐑿—𐑦𐑯𐑝𐑪𐑤𐑝𐑛 (1) 𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑱𐑯𐑦𐑙 𐑞 𐑑𐑮𐑩𐑛𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑩𐑤 𐑮𐑴𐑥𐑩𐑯 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑨𐑒𐑑 (𐑩𐑐𐑸𐑑 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑞 𐑦𐑤𐑦𐑥𐑦𐑯𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑹 𐑯𐑪𐑯-𐑿𐑕 𐑝 𐑩 𐑒𐑳𐑐𐑩𐑤 𐑝 𐑮𐑦𐑛𐑳𐑯𐑛𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟); (2) 𐑞 𐑮𐑰𐑼𐑱𐑯𐑡𐑥𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑝 𐑞 𐑮𐑴𐑥𐑩𐑯 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑑 𐑞 𐑚𐑧𐑕𐑑 𐑩𐑛𐑝𐑭𐑯𐑑𐑦𐑡—𐑓𐑺𐑤𐑦 𐑮𐑵𐑔𐑤𐑩𐑕𐑤𐑦 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑞 𐑕𐑑𐑨𐑯𐑛𐑐𐑶𐑯𐑑 𐑝 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑧𐑟𐑩𐑯𐑑-𐑛𐑱 𐑿𐑟𐑼, 𐑘𐑧𐑑 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑻𐑚𐑦𐑙 𐑒𐑳𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑤𐑦𐑙𐑟 𐑨𐑟 𐑤𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑤 𐑨𐑟 𐑐𐑪𐑕𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑩 𐑔𐑳𐑮𐑩𐑜𐑴𐑦𐑙, 𐑕𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑩𐑥𐑨𐑑𐑦𐑒 𐑮𐑦𐑓𐑹𐑥—; 𐑯 (3) 𐑞 𐑤𐑦𐑚𐑼𐑩𐑤 𐑿𐑕 𐑝 𐑒𐑪𐑥𐑚𐑦𐑯𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑝 𐑑𐑵 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑑 𐑕𐑑𐑨𐑯𐑛 𐑓 𐑕𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑩𐑤 𐑕𐑬𐑯𐑛𐑟, 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑚𐑰𐑦𐑙 𐑩 𐑯𐑧𐑕𐑩𐑕𐑼𐑦 𐑰𐑝𐑩𐑤 𐑮𐑦𐑟𐑳𐑤𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑞 𐑛𐑦𐑓𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑦 𐑦𐑯 𐑯𐑳𐑥𐑚𐑼 𐑝 𐑮𐑴𐑥𐑩𐑯 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑓 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑤𐑨𐑙𐑜𐑢𐑦𐑡 𐑣𐑨𐑝𐑦𐑙 𐑥𐑹 𐑞𐑨𐑯 26 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑙𐑒𐑑𐑦𐑝 𐑕𐑬𐑯𐑛𐑟.

𐑚𐑴𐑔 𐑞 𐑳𐑞𐑼 𐑐𐑮𐑰𐑝𐑾𐑕 𐑕𐑐𐑰𐑒𐑼𐑟 𐑦𐑯 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑕𐑽𐑦𐑟 𐑷𐑤𐑕𐑴 𐑐𐑫𐑑 𐑓𐑹𐑢𐑼𐑛 𐑕𐑒𐑰𐑥𐑟 𐑚𐑱𐑕𐑑 𐑩𐑐𐑪𐑯 𐑞 𐑮𐑴𐑥𐑩𐑯 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑:—·𐑛𐑪𐑒𐑑𐑼 𐑝𐑲𐑒𐑕 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑐𐑴𐑟𐑩𐑤𐑟 (‘𐑮𐑧𐑜𐑘𐑩𐑤𐑼𐑲𐑟𐑛 𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑤𐑦𐑖’) 𐑦𐑯𐑝𐑪𐑤𐑝𐑛 𐑰𐑝𐑩𐑯 𐑤𐑧𐑕 𐑛𐑦𐑐𐑸𐑗𐑼 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑑𐑮𐑩𐑛𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑩𐑤 𐑿𐑕𐑦𐑡 𐑞𐑨𐑯 𐑛𐑳𐑟 𐑯𐑿 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑤𐑦𐑙—𐑞𐑱 𐑢𐑫𐑛 𐑤𐑰𐑝 𐑞 𐑜𐑮𐑱𐑑 𐑚𐑳𐑤𐑒 𐑝 𐑒𐑳𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑤𐑦𐑙𐑟 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑨𐑒𐑑. ·𐑕𐑻 𐑡𐑱𐑥𐑟 𐑐𐑦𐑑𐑥𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑦𐑯𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑤 𐑑𐑰𐑗𐑦𐑙 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑, 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑰𐑝𐑛 𐑨𐑟 𐑩 𐑥𐑧𐑔𐑩𐑛 𐑓 𐑕𐑐𐑰𐑛𐑦𐑙 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑴𐑕𐑧𐑕 𐑝 𐑤𐑻𐑯𐑦𐑙 𐑑 𐑮𐑰𐑛, 𐑥𐑱𐑒𐑕 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑧𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑑 𐑐𐑮𐑧𐑟𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑤𐑦𐑙 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑞 𐑦𐑒𐑕𐑐𐑮𐑧𐑕 𐑱𐑥 𐑝 𐑓𐑩𐑕𐑦𐑤𐑦𐑑𐑱𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑞 𐑑𐑮𐑨𐑯𐑟𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑚𐑨𐑒 𐑑 𐑦𐑑 (𐑢𐑳𐑯𐑕 𐑞 𐑮𐑰𐑛𐑦𐑙 𐑕𐑒𐑦𐑤 𐑨𐑟 𐑕𐑳𐑗 𐑣𐑨𐑟 𐑚𐑰𐑯 𐑩𐑒𐑢𐑲𐑼𐑛). ·𐑐𐑦𐑑𐑥𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑦.𐑑.𐑨. 𐑦𐑟, 𐑩𐑐𐑸𐑑 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑞𐑨𐑑, 𐑚𐑱𐑕𐑑 𐑧𐑝𐑦𐑛𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑤𐑦 𐑪𐑯 𐑯𐑿 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑤𐑦𐑙, 𐑚𐑳𐑑, 𐑦𐑯 𐑩𐑛𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑯, 𐑦𐑥𐑐𐑤𐑶𐑟 𐑩 𐑯𐑳𐑥𐑚𐑼 𐑝 𐑯𐑿𐑤𐑦-𐑛𐑦𐑟𐑲𐑯𐑛 𐑤𐑦𐑜𐑩𐑗𐑼𐑛 𐑓𐑹𐑥𐑟, 𐑮𐑦𐑟𐑳𐑤𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑦𐑯 𐑥𐑴𐑕𐑑 𐑒𐑱𐑕𐑩𐑟 𐑦𐑯 𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑦𐑒𐑑𐑤𐑦 𐑯𐑪𐑯-𐑮𐑴𐑥𐑩𐑯 𐑖𐑱𐑐𐑕 (𐑞𐑳𐑕 𐑩𐑝𐑶𐑛𐑦𐑙 𐑞 𐑯𐑿 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑤𐑦𐑙 𐑛𐑦𐑝𐑲𐑕 𐑝 𐑡𐑳𐑒𐑕𐑑𐑩𐑐𐑴𐑟𐑦𐑙 𐑑𐑵 𐑓𐑩𐑥𐑦𐑤𐑽 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑑 𐑓𐑹𐑥 𐑛𐑲𐑜𐑮𐑭𐑓𐑕).

𐑯𐑬 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯 𐑦𐑟 𐑛𐑦𐑓𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑦𐑯 𐑒𐑲𐑯𐑛 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑷𐑤 𐑝 𐑞 𐑓𐑹𐑜𐑴𐑦𐑙: 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯 𐑦𐑟 𐑩 𐑯𐑿 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑. 𐑯𐑴 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑒𐑫𐑛 𐑮𐑰𐑛 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯 𐑨𐑑 𐑕𐑲𐑑 𐑕𐑦𐑥𐑐𐑤𐑦 𐑓 𐑣𐑨𐑝𐑦𐑙 𐑤𐑻𐑯𐑑 𐑑 𐑮𐑰𐑛 𐑮𐑴𐑥𐑩𐑯. 𐑚𐑦𐑓𐑹 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑒𐑨𐑯 𐑮𐑰𐑛 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯 𐑞 𐑝𐑨𐑤𐑿 𐑝 𐑰𐑗 𐑝 𐑞 𐑒𐑩𐑥𐑐𐑤𐑰𐑑𐑤𐑦 𐑯𐑿 𐑕𐑦𐑥𐑚𐑩𐑤𐑟 𐑣𐑨𐑟 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑤𐑻𐑯𐑑, 𐑯 𐑚𐑦𐑓𐑹 𐑮𐑰𐑛𐑦𐑙 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯 𐑓𐑤𐑵𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑤𐑦 𐑞 𐑕𐑒𐑦𐑤 𐑝 𐑕𐑒𐑨𐑯𐑦𐑙 𐑯 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑻𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑞 𐑕𐑰𐑒𐑢𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑩𐑟 𐑝 𐑞𐑴𐑟 𐑕𐑦𐑥𐑚𐑩𐑤𐑟, 𐑯 𐑝 𐑮𐑧𐑒𐑩𐑜𐑯𐑲𐑟𐑦𐑙 𐑞 𐑖𐑱𐑐𐑕 𐑝 𐑣𐑴𐑤 𐑢𐑻𐑛𐑟 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑐𐑮𐑰𐑝𐑾𐑕 𐑓𐑩𐑥𐑦𐑤𐑦𐑨𐑮𐑩𐑑𐑦 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑞𐑴𐑟 𐑖𐑱𐑐𐑕, 𐑣𐑨𐑟 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑩𐑒𐑢𐑲𐑼𐑛 𐑴𐑝𐑼 𐑩 𐑐𐑽𐑾𐑛 𐑝 𐑑𐑲𐑥. 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯 𐑞𐑺𐑓𐑹 𐑮𐑧𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑟𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑕 𐑩 𐑮𐑨𐑛𐑦𐑒𐑩𐑤 𐑛𐑦𐑐𐑸𐑗𐑼 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑑𐑮𐑩𐑛𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑯 (𐑞𐑴 𐑞𐑺 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑝 𐑒𐑹𐑕 𐑚𐑰𐑯 𐑳𐑞𐑼 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑐𐑴𐑟𐑛 𐑮𐑨𐑛𐑦𐑒𐑩𐑤 𐑛𐑦𐑐𐑸𐑗𐑼𐑟 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑐𐑭𐑕𐑑), 𐑯 𐑲 𐑖𐑫𐑛 𐑤𐑲𐑒 𐑓𐑻𐑕𐑑 𐑑 𐑛𐑰𐑤 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑞 𐑥𐑴𐑑𐑦𐑝𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑥𐑲𐑯𐑛 𐑝 𐑦𐑑𐑕 𐑦𐑯𐑕𐑐𐑲𐑼𐑼, ·𐑡𐑹𐑡 𐑚𐑻𐑯𐑼𐑛 𐑖𐑷, 𐑕𐑴 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑢𐑰 𐑥𐑱 𐑥𐑹 𐑒𐑤𐑽𐑤𐑦 𐑳𐑯𐑛𐑼𐑕𐑑𐑨𐑯𐑛 𐑢𐑪𐑑 𐑣𐑰 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑑𐑮𐑲𐑦𐑙 𐑑 𐑚𐑮𐑦𐑙 𐑩𐑚𐑬𐑑, 𐑯 𐑢𐑲.

𐑨𐑟 𐑩 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑓𐑧𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑩𐑤 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑼, ·𐑖𐑷 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑳𐑒 𐑚𐑲 𐑞 𐑢𐑱𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑡 𐑦𐑯𐑝𐑪𐑤𐑝𐑛 𐑦𐑯 𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑤𐑦𐑖 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑤𐑦𐑙: 𐑞 𐑢𐑱𐑕𐑑 𐑝 𐑑𐑲𐑥 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑯𐑑 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑚𐑲 𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛 𐑥𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑕𐑲𐑤𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑹 𐑮𐑦𐑛𐑳𐑯𐑛𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 (·𐑖𐑷 𐑣𐑦𐑥𐑕𐑧𐑤𐑓 𐑷𐑤𐑢𐑱𐑟 𐑮𐑴𐑑 𐑦𐑯 ·𐑐𐑦𐑑𐑥𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑖𐑹𐑑𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛); 𐑞 𐑢𐑱𐑕𐑑 𐑝 𐑥𐑩𐑑𐑽𐑾𐑤𐑟 (𐑐𐑱𐑐𐑼, 𐑦𐑙𐑒, 𐑯𐑯𐑯.) 𐑿𐑟𐑛 𐑦𐑯 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑞𐑴𐑟 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟; 𐑞 𐑢𐑱𐑕𐑑 𐑝 𐑑𐑲𐑥 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑯𐑑 𐑚𐑲 𐑧𐑝𐑮𐑦 𐑗𐑲𐑤𐑛 𐑤𐑻𐑯𐑦𐑙 𐑑 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑤 𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑤𐑦𐑖 𐑢𐑻𐑛𐑟 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑞𐑺 𐑦𐑯𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑦𐑟 𐑯 𐑦𐑮𐑧𐑜𐑘𐑩𐑤𐑨𐑮𐑩𐑑𐑦𐑟, 𐑑𐑲𐑥 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑯𐑑 𐑚𐑲 𐑧𐑝𐑮𐑦 𐑑𐑰𐑗𐑼 𐑝 𐑗𐑦𐑤𐑛𐑮𐑩𐑯, 𐑯 𐑚𐑲 𐑧𐑝𐑮𐑦 𐑓𐑪𐑮𐑦𐑯 𐑤𐑻𐑯𐑼, 𐑯 𐑑𐑰𐑗𐑼, 𐑝 𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑤𐑦𐑖 𐑧𐑯𐑦𐑢𐑺 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑢𐑻𐑤𐑛. 𐑣𐑰 𐑒𐑨𐑥𐑐𐑱𐑯𐑛 𐑓𐑮𐑰𐑒𐑢𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑤𐑦 𐑯 𐑝𐑦𐑜𐑼𐑩𐑕𐑤𐑦 𐑛𐑘𐑫𐑼𐑦𐑙 𐑣𐑦𐑟 𐑤𐑲𐑓𐑑𐑲𐑥 𐑑 𐑛𐑮𐑷 𐑐𐑰𐑐𐑩𐑤𐑟 𐑩𐑑𐑧𐑯𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑑 𐑞 𐑕𐑦𐑜𐑯𐑦𐑓𐑦𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑕 𐑝 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑕𐑑𐑱𐑑 𐑝 𐑩𐑓𐑺𐑟, 𐑯 𐑑 𐑚𐑮𐑱𐑒 𐑛𐑬𐑯 𐑞𐑺 𐑨𐑐𐑩𐑔𐑧𐑑𐑦𐑒 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑻𐑝𐑩𐑑𐑦𐑟𐑩𐑥, 𐑦𐑓 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑞𐑺 𐑗𐑨𐑥𐑐𐑾𐑯𐑦𐑙 𐑩𐑛𐑣𐑽𐑩𐑯𐑕 𐑑 𐑢𐑪𐑑 𐑣𐑰 𐑑𐑻𐑥𐑛 ‘·𐑡𐑪𐑯𐑕𐑩𐑯𐑰𐑟’, 𐑓 𐑣𐑰 𐑩𐑕𐑒𐑮𐑱𐑚𐑛 (𐑯𐑴 𐑛𐑬𐑑 𐑒𐑼𐑧𐑒𐑑𐑤𐑦) 𐑞 𐑕𐑑𐑨𐑯𐑛𐑼𐑛𐑲𐑟𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑝 𐑬𐑼 𐑐𐑮𐑧𐑟𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑤𐑦𐑙 𐑤𐑸𐑡𐑤𐑦 𐑑 𐑞 𐑐𐑳𐑚𐑤𐑦𐑒𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑯 𐑕𐑳𐑚𐑕𐑦𐑒𐑢𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑢𐑲𐑛 𐑿𐑕 𐑝 ·𐑛𐑪𐑒𐑑𐑼 𐑡𐑪𐑯𐑕𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑛𐑦𐑒𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑮𐑦.

𐑮𐑾𐑤𐑲𐑟𐑦𐑙 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑞𐑺 𐑢𐑻 𐑦𐑯 𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑒𐑱𐑕 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑦𐑯𐑳𐑓 𐑮𐑴𐑥𐑩𐑯 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑑 𐑜𐑴 𐑮𐑬𐑯𐑛, 𐑣𐑰 𐑕𐑧𐑑 𐑣𐑦𐑥𐑕𐑧𐑤𐑓 𐑓𐑻𐑥𐑤𐑦 𐑩𐑜𐑱𐑯𐑕𐑑 𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑩𐑑𐑧𐑥𐑐𐑑 𐑨𐑑 𐑮𐑰𐑼𐑱𐑯𐑡𐑥𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑝 𐑞𐑴𐑟 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 (𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑦𐑟 𐑢𐑪𐑑 𐑣𐑰 𐑒𐑷𐑤𐑛 ‘𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑤𐑦𐑙 𐑮𐑦𐑓𐑹𐑥’), 𐑯 𐑣𐑰 𐑣𐑨𐑛 𐑩𐑛𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑩𐑤 𐑮𐑰𐑟𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑓 𐑕𐑴 𐑛𐑵𐑦𐑙: 𐑞 𐑦𐑥𐑐𐑮𐑧𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑝 𐑯𐑽-𐑦𐑤𐑦𐑑𐑼𐑩𐑕𐑦 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑣𐑰 𐑒𐑤𐑱𐑥𐑛 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑥𐑱𐑛 𐑪𐑯 𐑧𐑡𐑵𐑒𐑱𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑐𐑰𐑐𐑩𐑤 𐑚𐑲 𐑮𐑰𐑼𐑱𐑯𐑡𐑛, ‘𐑓𐑩𐑯𐑧𐑑𐑦𐑒’ 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑤𐑦𐑙𐑟, 𐑯 𐑞 𐑤𐑲𐑒𐑤𐑦𐑣𐑫𐑛 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑕𐑳𐑗 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑤𐑦𐑙𐑟 𐑥𐑲𐑑 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑳𐑯𐑛𐑦𐑟𐑲𐑼𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤, 𐑐𐑪𐑕𐑩𐑚𐑤𐑦 𐑩𐑚𐑕𐑰𐑯, 𐑩𐑕𐑴𐑖𐑦𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟.

𐑑𐑩𐑢𐑹𐑛𐑟 𐑞 𐑧𐑯𐑛 𐑝 𐑣𐑦𐑟 𐑤𐑲𐑓 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑒𐑨𐑥𐑐𐑱𐑯 𐑕𐑰𐑥𐑟 𐑑 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑚𐑰𐑯 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑧𐑯𐑕𐑦𐑓𐑲𐑛, 𐑦𐑯 𐑤𐑪𐑙 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑑 ·𐑞 𐑑𐑲𐑥𐑟 𐑯𐑿𐑟𐑐𐑱𐑐𐑼 𐑯 𐑧𐑤𐑕𐑢𐑺, 𐑕𐑦𐑯𐑕 𐑣𐑰 𐑣𐑨𐑛 𐑓𐑹𐑥𐑛 𐑞 𐑲𐑛𐑾 𐑝 𐑤𐑰𐑝𐑦𐑙 𐑣𐑦𐑟 𐑓𐑹𐑗𐑵𐑯 𐑑 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑥𐑴𐑑 𐑩 𐑯𐑿 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑; 𐑚𐑳𐑑 𐑥𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑘𐑽𐑟 𐑚𐑦𐑓𐑹, 𐑦𐑯 𐑣𐑦𐑟 𐑐𐑮𐑧𐑓𐑩𐑕 𐑑 ·𐑐𐑦𐑜𐑥𐑱𐑤𐑾𐑯—𐑩 𐑐𐑤𐑱 𐑣𐑵𐑟 𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑯𐑕𐑩𐑐𐑩𐑤 𐑔𐑰𐑥 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑳𐑯𐑕𐑦𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑝 𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑤𐑦𐑖—𐑢𐑰 𐑓𐑲𐑯𐑛 𐑣𐑦𐑥 𐑩𐑤𐑵𐑛𐑦𐑙 𐑑 𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑤𐑦𐑖 𐑦𐑯 𐑦𐑑𐑕 𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑯 𐑓𐑹𐑥. 𐑲 𐑒𐑢𐑴𐑑: ‘𐑞 𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑤𐑦𐑖 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑯𐑴 𐑮𐑦𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑒𐑑 𐑓 𐑞𐑺 𐑤𐑨𐑙𐑜𐑢𐑦𐑡, 𐑯 𐑢𐑦𐑤 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑑𐑰𐑗 𐑞𐑺 𐑗𐑦𐑤𐑛𐑮𐑩𐑯 𐑑 𐑕𐑐𐑰𐑒 𐑦𐑑. 𐑞𐑱 𐑒𐑨𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑮𐑲𐑑 𐑦𐑑, 𐑚𐑦𐑒𐑪𐑟 𐑞𐑱 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑯𐑳𐑔𐑦𐑙 𐑑 𐑮𐑲𐑑 𐑦𐑑 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑚𐑳𐑑 𐑩𐑯 𐑴𐑤𐑛 𐑓𐑪𐑮𐑦𐑯 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑 𐑝 𐑢𐑦𐑗 𐑴𐑯𐑤𐑦 𐑞 𐑒𐑪𐑯𐑕𐑩𐑯𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑕, 𐑯 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑷𐑤 𐑝 𐑞𐑧𐑥, 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑩𐑜𐑮𐑰𐑛 𐑕𐑐𐑰𐑗 𐑝𐑨𐑤𐑿’.

𐑲 𐑥𐑧𐑯𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑛 𐑩 𐑥𐑴𐑥𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑩𐑜𐑴 𐑞𐑨𐑑 ·𐑖𐑷 𐑷𐑤𐑢𐑱𐑟 𐑮𐑴𐑑 𐑣𐑦𐑟 𐑢𐑻𐑒𐑕 𐑿𐑟𐑦𐑙 ·𐑐𐑦𐑑𐑥𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑖𐑹𐑑𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛 (𐑣𐑦𐑟 𐑕𐑧𐑒𐑮𐑩𐑑𐑮𐑦 𐑞𐑧𐑯 𐑑𐑮𐑨𐑯𐑕𐑒𐑮𐑲𐑚𐑛 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑵 𐑤𐑪𐑙𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛 𐑓 𐑮𐑦𐑝𐑦𐑠𐑩𐑯, 𐑯 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑼). 𐑦𐑑 𐑥𐑲𐑑 𐑐𐑼𐑣𐑨𐑐𐑕 𐑚𐑰 𐑔𐑷𐑑 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑣𐑽 𐑖𐑫𐑼𐑤𐑦 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑞 𐑭𐑯𐑕𐑼 𐑑 ·𐑖𐑷𐑟 𐑒𐑢𐑧𐑕𐑑 𐑓 𐑩 𐑯𐑿 𐑕𐑒𐑮𐑦𐑐𐑑 𐑓 𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑤𐑦𐑖, 𐑦𐑯 𐑳𐑞𐑼 𐑢𐑻𐑛𐑟 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑩 𐑕𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑩𐑥 𐑝 𐑖𐑹𐑑𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛 (𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑯𐑧𐑕𐑩𐑕𐑧𐑮𐑦𐑤𐑦 ·𐑐𐑦𐑑𐑥𐑩𐑯𐑟) 𐑢𐑫𐑛 𐑩𐑗𐑰𐑝 𐑞 𐑦𐑒𐑪𐑯𐑩𐑥𐑦—𐑨𐑑 𐑤𐑰𐑕𐑑 𐑝 𐑑𐑲𐑥—𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑢𐑪𐑯𐑑𐑩𐑛. 𐑚𐑳𐑑 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑦𐑟 𐑓𐑸 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑚𐑰𐑦𐑙 𐑞 𐑒𐑱𐑕. 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑓𐑻𐑕𐑑 𐑐𐑤𐑱𐑕, 𐑞 𐑷𐑤-𐑐𐑻𐑐𐑩𐑕 𐑿𐑑𐑦𐑤𐑩𐑑𐑦 𐑝 𐑩𐑯 𐑹𐑔𐑪𐑜𐑮𐑩𐑓𐑦 𐑒𐑨𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑩𐑗𐑰𐑝𐑛 𐑚𐑲 𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑕𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑩𐑥 𐑝 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑚𐑱𐑕𐑑 𐑩𐑐𐑪𐑯 𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛 𐑥𐑵𐑝𐑥𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑕 𐑯 𐑛𐑦𐑟𐑲𐑯𐑛 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑦𐑛𐑼𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑝 𐑖𐑽 𐑕𐑐𐑰𐑛 𐑐𐑮𐑲𐑥𐑧𐑮𐑩𐑤𐑦— 𐑷𐑤𐑥𐑴𐑕𐑑 𐑦𐑒𐑕𐑒𐑤𐑵𐑕𐑦𐑝𐑤𐑦—𐑦𐑯 𐑥𐑲𐑯𐑛. 𐑑𐑧𐑒𐑯𐑦𐑒𐑩𐑤 𐑐𐑮𐑪𐑚𐑤𐑩𐑥𐑟 𐑼𐑲𐑟𐑦𐑙 𐑓 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑼 𐑢𐑫𐑛 𐑩𐑤𐑴𐑯 𐑮𐑵𐑤 𐑬𐑑 𐑕𐑰𐑒𐑢𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑩𐑟 𐑝 𐑖𐑹𐑑𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛 𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑴𐑒𐑕 𐑢𐑺 𐑦𐑯𐑛𐑦𐑝𐑦𐑡𐑵𐑩𐑤 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑯𐑴 𐑕𐑧𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑑 𐑲𐑛𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑩𐑑𐑦.

𐑦𐑑 𐑦𐑟 𐑯𐑴𐑑𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑦𐑜𐑟𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑕𐑒𐑮𐑦𐑐𐑑𐑕 𐑚𐑱𐑕𐑑 𐑪𐑯 𐑩 𐑒𐑻𐑕𐑦𐑝 𐑕𐑑𐑲𐑤, 𐑕𐑳𐑗 𐑨𐑟 𐑨𐑮𐑩𐑚𐑦𐑒, 𐑤𐑧𐑯𐑛 𐑞𐑧𐑥𐑕𐑧𐑤𐑝𐑟 𐑦𐑒𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑰𐑥𐑤𐑦 𐑷𐑒𐑢𐑼𐑛𐑤𐑦 𐑑 𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛𐑤𐑦𐑙 𐑚𐑲 𐑞 𐑥𐑪𐑛𐑼𐑯 𐑑𐑧𐑒𐑯𐑪𐑤𐑩𐑡𐑦𐑟 𐑝 𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑯 𐑑𐑲𐑐𐑦𐑙, 𐑛𐑦𐑟𐑲𐑯𐑛 𐑓 𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛𐑤𐑦𐑙 𐑕𐑧𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑑, 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑒𐑮𐑰𐑑 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼 𐑖𐑱𐑐𐑕. 𐑚𐑦𐑒𐑪𐑟 𐑞 𐑥𐑩𐑡𐑪𐑮𐑩𐑑𐑦 𐑝 𐑨𐑮𐑩𐑚𐑦𐑒 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑡𐑶𐑯𐑛 𐑑 𐑩 𐑓𐑪𐑤𐑴𐑦𐑙 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑕𐑱𐑥 𐑢𐑻𐑛 (𐑩 𐑓𐑿 𐑥𐑱 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑕𐑴 𐑡𐑶𐑯𐑛), 𐑞 𐑑𐑲𐑐𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑼 𐑯 𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑐𐑮𐑧𐑕 𐑸 𐑮𐑦𐑒𐑢𐑲𐑼𐑛 𐑑 𐑕𐑦𐑥𐑿𐑤𐑱𐑑 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑡𐑶𐑯𐑦𐑙 𐑳𐑐 𐑝 𐑕𐑩𐑒𐑕𐑧𐑕𐑦𐑝 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟, 𐑚𐑲 𐑚𐑮𐑦𐑙𐑦𐑙 𐑞 𐑓𐑲𐑯𐑩𐑤 𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑴𐑒 𐑝 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼 𐑯 𐑞 𐑚𐑦𐑜𐑦𐑯𐑦𐑙 𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑴𐑒 𐑝 𐑞 𐑓𐑪𐑤𐑴𐑦𐑙 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑦𐑒𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑰𐑥𐑤𐑦 𐑒𐑤𐑴𐑕 𐑑𐑩𐑜𐑧𐑞𐑼, 𐑕𐑴 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑞𐑱 𐑩𐑐𐑽 𐑑 𐑑𐑳𐑗. 𐑯 𐑚𐑦𐑒𐑪𐑟 𐑯𐑴 𐑴𐑝𐑼𐑤𐑨𐑐𐑦𐑙 𐑝 𐑓𐑹𐑥𐑟 𐑒𐑨𐑯 𐑚𐑰 𐑩𐑚𐑑𐑱𐑯𐑛 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑥𐑩𐑒𐑨𐑯𐑦𐑒𐑩𐑤 𐑛𐑦𐑝𐑲𐑕𐑩𐑟 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑥𐑵𐑝 𐑓𐑹𐑢𐑼𐑛 𐑩 𐑯𐑪𐑗 𐑨𐑑 𐑩 𐑑𐑲𐑥 𐑓 𐑩 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼 𐑝 𐑢𐑪𐑑𐑧𐑝𐑼 𐑖𐑱𐑐 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑐𐑤𐑱𐑕𐑑 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑜𐑦𐑝𐑩𐑯 𐑕𐑐𐑱𐑕, 𐑷𐑒𐑢𐑼𐑛 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑹𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑝 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑸 𐑳𐑯𐑩𐑝𐑶𐑛𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤, 𐑯 𐑞𐑺 𐑦𐑟 𐑩 𐑢𐑱𐑕𐑑𐑓𐑩𐑤𐑦 𐑣𐑲 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑐𐑹𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑝 𐑢𐑲𐑑 𐑕𐑐𐑱𐑕 𐑑 𐑚𐑤𐑨𐑒 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼 𐑪𐑯 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑐𐑱𐑡, 𐑐𐑼𐑑𐑦𐑒𐑿𐑤𐑼𐑤𐑦 𐑕𐑦𐑯𐑕 𐑞 𐑤𐑸𐑡 𐑯𐑳𐑥𐑚𐑼 𐑝 𐑦𐑕𐑧𐑯𐑖𐑩𐑤 𐑛𐑲𐑩𐑒𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑦𐑒𐑩𐑤 𐑛𐑪𐑑𐑕 𐑩𐑚𐑳𐑝 𐑯 𐑚𐑦𐑤𐑴 𐑰𐑗 𐑤𐑲𐑯 𐑝 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑥𐑱𐑒𐑕 𐑦𐑑 𐑯𐑧𐑕𐑩𐑕𐑼𐑦 𐑑 𐑕𐑧𐑑 𐑕𐑩𐑒𐑕𐑧𐑕𐑦𐑝 𐑤𐑲𐑯𐑟 𐑩 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑦𐑛𐑼𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑩𐑯𐑕 𐑩𐑐𐑸𐑑 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑮𐑩𐑕𐑑𐑕 𐑝 𐑤𐑧𐑡𐑩𐑚𐑦𐑤𐑩𐑑𐑦. 𐑖𐑹𐑑𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛 𐑑𐑵 𐑦𐑟 𐑯𐑩𐑑𐑹𐑾𐑕𐑤𐑦 𐑢𐑱𐑕𐑑𐑓𐑩𐑤 𐑝 𐑕𐑐𐑱𐑕, 𐑞 𐑕𐑐𐑲𐑛𐑼𐑦 𐑬𐑑𐑤𐑲𐑯𐑟 𐑣𐑨𐑝𐑦𐑙 𐑩 𐑝𐑻𐑑𐑦𐑒𐑩𐑤 𐑨𐑟 𐑢𐑧𐑤 𐑨𐑟 𐑩 𐑣𐑪𐑮𐑦𐑟𐑪𐑯𐑑𐑩𐑤 𐑕𐑐𐑮𐑷𐑤. 𐑘𐑧𐑑 𐑓𐑻𐑞𐑼 𐑩𐑚𐑡𐑧𐑒𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑑 𐑩 𐑖𐑹𐑑𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛 𐑒𐑨𐑯 𐑚𐑰 𐑥𐑱𐑛: 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑦𐑑 𐑑𐑧𐑯𐑛𐑟 𐑑 𐑚𐑦𐑒𐑳𐑥 𐑦𐑤𐑧𐑡𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑑 𐑷𐑤 𐑕𐑱𐑝 𐑞 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑼, 𐑯 𐑰𐑝𐑩𐑯 𐑑 𐑣𐑦𐑥 𐑹 (𐑥𐑹 𐑪𐑓𐑩𐑯) 𐑣𐑻 𐑭𐑓𐑑𐑼 𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑤𐑨𐑐𐑕 𐑝 𐑑𐑲𐑥 𐑚𐑦𐑓𐑹 𐑞 𐑦𐑝𐑧𐑯𐑗𐑵𐑩𐑤 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑧𐑯𐑛𐑩𐑛 𐑮𐑰𐑑𐑮𐑨𐑯𐑕𐑒𐑮𐑦𐑐𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑵 𐑤𐑪𐑙𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛; 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑞 𐑕𐑷𐑑-𐑭𐑓𐑑𐑼 𐑕𐑐𐑰𐑛 𐑦𐑑𐑕𐑧𐑤𐑓 𐑦𐑟 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑩𐑑𐑱𐑯𐑛 𐑢𐑦𐑞𐑬𐑑 𐑕𐑳𐑗 𐑛𐑮𐑨𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑒 𐑩𐑚𐑮𐑰𐑝𐑦𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑯 𐑩𐑥𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑨𐑥𐑚𐑦𐑜𐑿𐑩𐑑𐑦𐑟 𐑒𐑪𐑯𐑕𐑑𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑤𐑦 𐑼𐑲𐑟 𐑹 𐑦𐑤𐑧𐑡𐑩𐑚𐑦𐑤𐑩𐑑𐑦 𐑰𐑝𐑩𐑯 𐑮𐑦𐑟𐑳𐑤𐑑𐑕.

·𐑖𐑷 𐑣𐑦𐑥𐑕𐑧𐑤𐑓 𐑮𐑾𐑤𐑲𐑟𐑛 𐑞 𐑓𐑳𐑯𐑛𐑩𐑥𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑩𐑤 𐑳𐑯𐑕𐑵𐑑𐑩𐑚𐑦𐑤𐑩𐑑𐑦 𐑝 𐑩 𐑖𐑹𐑑𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛 𐑨𐑟 𐑩𐑯 𐑹𐑔𐑪𐑜𐑮𐑩𐑓𐑦, 𐑞𐑴 𐑣𐑰 𐑛𐑦𐑛 𐑪𐑯 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑩𐑒𐑱𐑠𐑩𐑯 (𐑐𐑮𐑧𐑓𐑩𐑕 𐑑 ·𐑞 𐑥𐑦𐑮𐑨𐑒𐑘𐑩𐑤𐑩𐑕 𐑚𐑻𐑔 𐑝 𐑤𐑨𐑙𐑜𐑢𐑦𐑡 𐑚𐑲 ·𐑮 𐑨 𐑢𐑦𐑤𐑕𐑩𐑯) 𐑣𐑴𐑤𐑛 𐑳𐑐, 𐑨𐑟 𐑩 𐑥𐑪𐑛𐑩𐑤 𐑝 𐑢𐑪𐑑 𐑒𐑫𐑛 𐑚𐑰 𐑛𐑳𐑯, ·𐑣𐑧𐑯𐑮𐑦 𐑕𐑢𐑰𐑑𐑕 𐑒𐑳𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑖𐑹𐑑𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛. 𐑣𐑰 𐑢𐑧𐑯𐑑 𐑪𐑯 𐑑 𐑐𐑶𐑯𐑑 𐑬𐑑 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑞 𐑚𐑱𐑕𐑦𐑒 𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑴𐑒𐑕 𐑛𐑦𐑝𐑲𐑟𐑛 𐑚𐑲 ·𐑕𐑢𐑰𐑑 𐑢𐑫𐑛 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑕𐑵𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑝𐑧𐑮𐑦 𐑢𐑧𐑤, 𐑦𐑓 𐑴𐑯𐑤𐑦 ·𐑕𐑢𐑰𐑑 𐑣𐑨𐑛 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑣𐑦𐑥𐑕𐑧𐑤𐑓 𐑜𐑪𐑯 𐑪𐑯 𐑑 𐑒𐑪𐑥𐑐𐑤𐑦𐑒𐑱𐑑 𐑯 𐑚𐑦𐑛𐑧𐑝𐑩𐑤 𐑥𐑨𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑚𐑲 𐑕𐑰𐑒𐑦𐑙 𐑑 𐑥𐑱𐑒 𐑣𐑦𐑟 𐑕𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑩𐑥 𐑕𐑵𐑑𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑓 𐑝𐑻𐑚𐑱𐑑𐑦𐑥 𐑮𐑦𐑐𐑹𐑑𐑦𐑙, 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑦𐑑𐑕 𐑦𐑯𐑧𐑝𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑮𐑨𐑒𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑯 𐑦𐑯𐑿𐑥𐑼𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑝𐑧𐑯𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟. (𐑦𐑑 𐑦𐑟, 𐑣𐑬𐑧𐑝𐑼, 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑼𐑧𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑑 𐑮𐑾𐑤𐑲𐑟 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑦𐑑 𐑢𐑪𐑟 ·𐑖𐑷𐑟 𐑮𐑱𐑕𐑦 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑒𐑮𐑦𐑐𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑝 ·𐑕𐑢𐑰𐑑𐑕 𐑒𐑳𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑖𐑹𐑑𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑱𐑯𐑛 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑩𐑚𐑳𐑝 𐑐𐑮𐑧𐑓𐑩𐑕—”𐑩 𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑱𐑑 𐑤𐑲𐑯, 𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑯 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑩 𐑕𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑩𐑤 𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑴𐑒 𐑝 𐑞 𐑐𐑧𐑯, 𐑒𐑨𐑯 𐑮𐑧𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑟𐑧𐑯𐑑 𐑓𐑹 𐑛𐑦𐑓𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑒𐑪𐑯𐑕𐑩𐑯𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑕 𐑚𐑲 𐑝𐑺𐑦𐑦𐑙 𐑦𐑑𐑕 𐑤𐑧𐑙𐑔 𐑯 𐑐𐑩𐑟𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑯. 𐑐𐑫𐑑 𐑩 𐑣𐑫𐑒 𐑨𐑑 𐑞 𐑑𐑪𐑐 𐑝 𐑦𐑑, 𐑯 𐑿 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑓𐑹 𐑥𐑹 𐑒𐑪𐑯𐑕𐑩𐑯𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑕. 𐑐𐑫𐑑 𐑩 𐑣𐑫𐑒 𐑨𐑑 𐑞 𐑤𐑴𐑼 𐑧𐑯𐑛, 𐑯…𐑯𐑯𐑯.”—𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑝𐑲𐑛𐑩𐑛 𐑞 𐑦𐑯𐑕𐑐𐑦𐑮𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑓 𐑞 𐑛𐑦𐑟𐑲𐑯𐑼 𐑝 𐑢𐑪𐑑 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑦𐑝𐑧𐑯𐑗𐑵𐑩𐑤𐑦 𐑑 𐑚𐑦𐑒𐑳𐑥 𐑞 “𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯” 𐑝 𐑑𐑩𐑛𐑱, 𐑨𐑟 𐑦𐑑 𐑥𐑱 𐑢𐑧𐑤 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑛𐑳𐑯 𐑷𐑤𐑕𐑴 𐑓 𐑥𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑝 𐑞 𐑳𐑞𐑼 𐑒𐑩𐑥𐑐𐑧𐑑𐑦𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 ·𐑚𐑻𐑯𐑼𐑛 𐑖𐑷 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑 𐑒𐑪𐑥𐑐𐑩𐑑𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑯. 𐑚𐑳𐑑 𐑲 𐑨𐑯𐑑𐑦𐑕𐑦𐑐𐑱𐑑.)

𐑞 𐑦𐑝𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑕 𐑓𐑪𐑤𐑴𐑦𐑙 𐑩𐑐𐑪𐑯 ·𐑖𐑷𐑟 𐑛𐑧𐑔 𐑦𐑯 1950 𐑥𐑳𐑕𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑓𐑺𐑤𐑦 𐑢𐑧𐑤 𐑯𐑴𐑯 𐑑 ·𐑖𐑷-𐑤𐑳𐑝𐑼𐑟 𐑯 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑤𐑦𐑙 𐑮𐑦𐑓𐑹𐑥𐑼𐑟 𐑩𐑤𐑲𐑒, 𐑕𐑴 𐑲 𐑔𐑦𐑙𐑒 𐑲 𐑯𐑰𐑛 𐑴𐑯𐑤𐑦 𐑕𐑳𐑥𐑼𐑲𐑟 𐑞𐑧𐑥 𐑣𐑽, 𐑯 𐑮𐑦𐑒𐑷𐑤 𐑣𐑬 ·𐑖𐑷, 𐑦𐑯 𐑣𐑦𐑟 𐑢𐑦𐑤, 𐑩𐑐𐑶𐑯𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑞 ·𐑐𐑳𐑚𐑤𐑦𐑒 𐑑𐑮𐑳𐑕𐑑𐑰 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑣𐑦𐑟 𐑦𐑜𐑟𐑧𐑒𐑘𐑩𐑑𐑼 𐑯 𐑑𐑮𐑳𐑕𐑑𐑰, 𐑯 𐑦𐑥𐑐𐑴𐑟𐑛 𐑪𐑯 𐑣𐑦𐑥 𐑞 𐑛𐑿𐑑𐑦 𐑝 𐑕𐑰𐑒𐑦𐑙 𐑯 𐑐𐑳𐑚𐑤𐑦𐑖𐑦𐑙 𐑩𐑯 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑 𐑝 𐑨𐑑 𐑤𐑰𐑕𐑑 𐑓𐑹𐑑𐑦 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟, 𐑥𐑹 𐑦𐑓𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑞𐑨𐑯 𐑞 𐑦𐑜𐑟𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑝 𐑑𐑢𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑦-𐑕𐑦𐑒𐑕 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟, 𐑕𐑴 𐑨𐑟 𐑑 𐑦𐑯𐑱𐑚𐑩𐑤 ‘𐑞 𐑕𐑧𐑛 𐑤𐑨𐑙𐑜𐑢𐑦𐑡 (𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑤𐑦𐑖) 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑯 𐑢𐑦𐑞𐑬𐑑 𐑦𐑯𐑛𐑦𐑒𐑱𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑕𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑩𐑤 𐑕𐑬𐑯𐑛𐑟 𐑚𐑲 𐑜𐑮𐑵𐑐𐑕 𐑝 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑹 𐑚𐑲 𐑛𐑲𐑩𐑒𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑦𐑒𐑩𐑤 𐑥𐑸𐑒𐑕’; 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑 𐑣𐑰 𐑑𐑻𐑥𐑛 ‘𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑐𐑴𐑟𐑛 𐑚𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑦𐑖 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑’; 𐑣𐑬 ·𐑖𐑷𐑟 𐑮𐑦𐑟𐑦𐑛𐑿𐑼𐑦 𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑱𐑑 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑛𐑲𐑮𐑧𐑒𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑚𐑲 𐑣𐑦𐑥 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑣𐑧𐑤𐑛 𐑓 𐑩 𐑐𐑽𐑾𐑛 𐑦𐑯 𐑕𐑻𐑑𐑩𐑯 𐑑𐑮𐑳𐑕𐑑𐑕 𐑓 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑐𐑻𐑐𐑩𐑕, 𐑚𐑳𐑑 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑛𐑦𐑒𐑤𐑺𐑛 𐑚𐑲 𐑩 𐑡𐑳𐑡 𐑝 𐑞 𐑣𐑲 𐑒𐑹𐑑 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑦𐑯𐑝𐑨𐑤𐑦𐑛 𐑦𐑯 𐑤𐑷. 𐑞 ·𐑐𐑳𐑚𐑤𐑦𐑒 𐑑𐑮𐑳𐑕𐑑𐑰 𐑩𐑐𐑾𐑤𐑛 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑞 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑦𐑠𐑩𐑯, 𐑯 𐑚𐑲 𐑢𐑱 𐑝 𐑒𐑪𐑥𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑥𐑲𐑟 𐑞 𐑮𐑦𐑟𐑦𐑛𐑿𐑼𐑦 𐑤𐑧𐑜𐑩𐑑𐑰𐑟 (𐑞 ·𐑚𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑦𐑖 𐑥𐑿𐑟𐑾𐑥, 𐑞 ·𐑮𐑶𐑩𐑤 𐑩𐑒𐑨𐑛𐑩𐑥𐑦 𐑝 𐑛𐑮𐑩𐑥𐑨𐑑𐑦𐑒 𐑸𐑑, 𐑯 𐑞 ·𐑯𐑨𐑖𐑯𐑩𐑤 𐑜𐑨𐑤𐑼𐑦 𐑝 𐑲𐑼𐑤𐑩𐑯𐑛) 𐑦𐑝𐑧𐑯𐑗𐑵𐑩𐑤𐑦 𐑩𐑜𐑮𐑰𐑛 𐑑 𐑐𐑱 𐑩 𐑕𐑻𐑑𐑩𐑯 𐑕𐑳𐑥 𐑑 𐑞 ·𐑐𐑳𐑚𐑤𐑦𐑒 𐑑𐑮𐑳𐑕𐑑𐑰 𐑓 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑥𐑴𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑝 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑐𐑮𐑪𐑡𐑧𐑒𐑑 𐑝 𐑩 𐑯𐑿 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑. 𐑦𐑑 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑦𐑯𐑛𐑰𐑛 𐑩 𐑥𐑪𐑛𐑩𐑕𐑑 𐑕𐑳𐑥 𐑦𐑯 𐑮𐑦𐑤𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑑 ·𐑖𐑷𐑟 𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑱𐑑 𐑨𐑟 𐑩 𐑣𐑴𐑤 𐑨𐑑 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑑𐑲𐑥, 𐑯 𐑥𐑳𐑗 𐑥𐑹 𐑕𐑴 𐑕𐑦𐑯𐑕 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑱𐑑 𐑚𐑦𐑜𐑨𐑯 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑷𐑜𐑥𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑚𐑲 𐑞 𐑥𐑨𐑕𐑦𐑝 𐑮𐑶𐑩𐑤𐑑𐑦𐑟 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑚𐑰𐑯 𐑒𐑳𐑥𐑦𐑙 𐑦𐑯 𐑕𐑦𐑯𐑕 𐑞 𐑩𐑐𐑽𐑩𐑯𐑕 𐑝 𐑥𐑲 𐑓𐑺 𐑤𐑱𐑛𐑦. 𐑣𐑬𐑧𐑝𐑼, 𐑦𐑑 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑞 𐑚𐑧𐑕𐑑 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑒𐑫𐑛 𐑚𐑰 𐑥𐑨𐑯𐑦𐑡𐑛—𐑯 𐑦𐑑 𐑣𐑨𐑟 𐑚𐑰𐑯 𐑦𐑯𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑩𐑥𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑩𐑤 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑒𐑮𐑦𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑝 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯. 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑳𐑯𐑑𐑦𐑤 1957 𐑢𐑻 𐑷𐑤 𐑞 𐑤𐑰𐑜𐑩𐑤 𐑒𐑪𐑥𐑐𐑤𐑦𐑒𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑬𐑑 𐑝 𐑞 𐑢𐑱, 𐑯 𐑞 𐑓𐑰𐑤𐑛 𐑒𐑤𐑽𐑛 𐑓 𐑞 ·𐑐𐑳𐑚𐑤𐑦𐑒 𐑑𐑮𐑳𐑕𐑑𐑰 𐑑 𐑦𐑯𐑷𐑜𐑘𐑼𐑱𐑑 𐑞 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑 𐑒𐑪𐑥𐑐𐑩𐑑𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑚𐑲 𐑪𐑓𐑼𐑦𐑙 𐑩 𐑐𐑮𐑲𐑟 𐑝 £500 𐑓 𐑞 𐑚𐑧𐑕𐑑 𐑛𐑦𐑟𐑲𐑯 𐑝 𐑩 𐑯𐑿 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑 𐑒𐑩𐑥𐑐𐑤𐑱𐑦𐑙 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑝𐑦𐑠𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑝 ·𐑖𐑷𐑟 𐑢𐑦𐑤.

𐑑𐑧𐑒𐑯𐑦𐑒𐑩𐑤 𐑩𐑛𐑝𐑲𐑕 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑩𐑝𐑱𐑤𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑑 𐑞 ·𐑐𐑳𐑚𐑤𐑦𐑒 𐑑𐑮𐑳𐑕𐑑𐑰 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑩 𐑐𐑨𐑯𐑩𐑤 𐑝 𐑔𐑮𐑰 𐑬𐑑𐑕𐑲𐑛 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑖𐑩𐑤𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑕, 𐑣𐑵 𐑷𐑤𐑕𐑴 𐑨𐑒𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑨𐑟 𐑡𐑳𐑡𐑩𐑟 𐑓 𐑞 𐑒𐑪𐑥𐑐𐑩𐑑𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑯. 𐑨𐑟 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑝 𐑞𐑴𐑟 𐑡𐑳𐑡𐑩𐑟 𐑲 𐑣𐑨𐑛 𐑞 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑼𐑧𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑦𐑒𐑕𐑐𐑽𐑾𐑯𐑕 𐑝 𐑦𐑜𐑟𐑨𐑥𐑦𐑯𐑦𐑙 𐑰𐑗 𐑝 𐑞 467 𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑮𐑦𐑟 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑒𐑱𐑥 𐑦𐑯 𐑛𐑘𐑫𐑼𐑦𐑙 1958. 𐑚𐑲 𐑞 𐑧𐑯𐑛 𐑝 𐑞 𐑓𐑪𐑤𐑴𐑦𐑙 𐑘𐑽 𐑞 𐑢𐑻𐑒 𐑝 𐑡𐑳𐑡𐑦𐑙 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑒𐑩𐑥𐑐𐑤𐑰𐑑𐑩𐑛, 𐑯 𐑞 ·𐑐𐑳𐑚𐑤𐑦𐑒 𐑑𐑮𐑳𐑕𐑑𐑰 𐑩𐑯𐑬𐑯𐑕𐑑 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑲𐑟 𐑥𐑳𐑯𐑦 𐑢𐑫𐑛 𐑚𐑰 𐑛𐑦𐑝𐑲𐑛𐑩𐑛 𐑰𐑒𐑢𐑩𐑤𐑦 𐑚𐑦𐑑𐑢𐑰𐑯 𐑓𐑹 𐑒𐑩𐑥𐑐𐑧𐑑𐑦𐑑𐑼𐑟, 𐑯𐑳𐑯 𐑝 𐑣𐑵𐑥 𐑣𐑨𐑛 𐑕𐑩𐑚𐑥𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑩 𐑛𐑦𐑟𐑲𐑯 𐑬𐑑𐑕𐑑𐑨𐑯𐑛𐑦𐑙 𐑦𐑯𐑳𐑓 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑩𐑒𐑕𐑧𐑐𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑨𐑟 𐑦𐑑 𐑕𐑑𐑫𐑛, 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑦𐑟, 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑞 ‘𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑐𐑴𐑟𐑛 𐑚𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑦𐑖 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑’, 𐑓 𐑿𐑕 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑕𐑳𐑚𐑕𐑦𐑒𐑢𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑑𐑮𐑨𐑯𐑟𐑤𐑦𐑑𐑼𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑝 ·𐑖𐑷𐑟 𐑐𐑤𐑱 ·𐑨𐑯𐑛𐑮𐑩𐑒𐑤𐑰𐑟 𐑯 𐑞 𐑤𐑲𐑩𐑯, 𐑨𐑟 𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑐𐑘𐑩𐑤𐑱𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑦𐑯 𐑣𐑦𐑟 𐑢𐑦𐑤.

𐑯𐑬, 𐑒𐑤𐑽𐑤𐑦, 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑑𐑮𐑨𐑯𐑟𐑤𐑦𐑑𐑼𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑒𐑫𐑛 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑐𐑪𐑕𐑩𐑚𐑤𐑦 𐑚𐑰 𐑥𐑱𐑛 𐑳𐑯𐑑𐑦𐑤 𐑞𐑺 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑩𐑯 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑 𐑑 𐑑𐑮𐑨𐑯𐑟𐑤𐑦𐑑𐑼𐑱𐑑 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑵. 𐑕𐑴 𐑩 𐑐𐑮𐑪𐑚𐑤𐑩𐑥 𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑤 𐑮𐑦𐑥𐑱𐑯𐑛. 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑞 ·𐑐𐑳𐑚𐑤𐑦𐑒 𐑑𐑮𐑳𐑕𐑑𐑰 𐑕𐑷𐑑 𐑑 𐑮𐑦𐑟𐑪𐑤𐑝 𐑚𐑲 𐑦𐑯𐑝𐑲𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑞 𐑓𐑹 𐑐𐑮𐑲𐑟𐑢𐑦𐑯𐑼𐑟 𐑑 𐑢𐑻𐑒 𐑓𐑻𐑞𐑼 𐑪𐑯 𐑞𐑺 𐑛𐑦𐑟𐑲𐑯𐑟 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑩 𐑝𐑿 𐑑 𐑼𐑲𐑝𐑦𐑙 𐑨𐑑 𐑞 𐑚𐑧𐑕𐑑 𐑐𐑪𐑕𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑕𐑩𐑤𐑵𐑖𐑩𐑯. 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑛𐑦𐑛 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑥𐑰𐑯 (𐑨𐑟 𐑪𐑯 𐑞 𐑕𐑻𐑓𐑦𐑕 𐑥𐑲𐑑 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑩𐑐𐑽𐑛 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑞 𐑒𐑱𐑕) 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑞 𐑚𐑧𐑕𐑑 𐑓𐑰𐑗𐑼𐑟 𐑝 𐑰𐑗 𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑕 𐑢𐑻𐑒 𐑒𐑫𐑛 𐑚𐑰 𐑦𐑒𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑨𐑒𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑯 𐑕𐑳𐑥𐑣𐑬 𐑓𐑿𐑟𐑛 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑵 𐑞 𐑲𐑛𐑾𐑤 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑: 𐑩 𐑜𐑤𐑭𐑯𐑕 𐑨𐑑 𐑞 𐑦𐑯𐑛𐑦𐑝𐑦𐑡𐑵𐑩𐑤 𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑮𐑦𐑟 𐑢𐑫𐑛 𐑚𐑰 𐑕𐑩𐑓𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑑 𐑥𐑱𐑒 𐑦𐑑 𐑐𐑤𐑱𐑯 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑞 𐑚𐑱𐑕𐑦𐑒 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑧𐑐𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑝 𐑰𐑗 𐑢𐑻 𐑕𐑴 𐑳𐑑𐑼𐑤𐑦 𐑛𐑦𐑓𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑩 𐑒𐑪𐑥𐑚𐑦𐑯𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑝 𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑓𐑰𐑗𐑼𐑟 𐑛𐑮𐑷𐑯 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑥𐑹 𐑞𐑨𐑯 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑝 𐑞𐑧𐑥 𐑒𐑫𐑛 𐑴𐑯𐑤𐑦 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑒𐑮𐑦𐑱𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑩 𐑣𐑪𐑗-𐑐𐑪𐑗 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑢𐑫𐑛 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑚𐑰𐑯 𐑳𐑯𐑕𐑨𐑑𐑦𐑕𐑓𐑨𐑒𐑑𐑼𐑦 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑐𐑮𐑨𐑒𐑑𐑦𐑒𐑤𐑦 𐑧𐑝𐑮𐑦 𐑐𐑶𐑯𐑑 𐑝 𐑝𐑿, 𐑒𐑫𐑛 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑐𐑪𐑕𐑩𐑚𐑤𐑦 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑛𐑿𐑕𐑑 𐑩𐑯 𐑧𐑕𐑔𐑧𐑑𐑦𐑒𐑤𐑦 𐑐𐑤𐑰𐑟𐑦𐑙 𐑯 𐑣𐑸𐑥𐑴𐑯𐑾𐑕 𐑣𐑴𐑤, 𐑯 𐑢𐑫𐑛 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑚𐑰𐑯 𐑷𐑤𐑥𐑴𐑕𐑑 𐑕𐑻𐑑𐑩𐑯𐑤𐑦 𐑦𐑯𐑓𐑽𐑽 𐑑 𐑰𐑗 𐑝 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑲𐑟𐑢𐑦𐑯𐑦𐑙 𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑮𐑦𐑟 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑦𐑛𐑼𐑛 𐑕𐑧𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑑𐑤𐑦. 𐑢𐑪𐑑 𐑦𐑯 𐑓𐑨𐑒𐑑 𐑣𐑨𐑐𐑩𐑯𐑛 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑰𐑗 𐑝 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑲𐑟𐑢𐑦𐑯𐑼𐑟 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑦𐑯𐑒𐑳𐑮𐑦𐑡𐑛 𐑑 𐑛𐑵 𐑓𐑻𐑞𐑼 𐑢𐑻𐑒 𐑪𐑯 𐑣𐑦𐑟 𐑕𐑩𐑚𐑥𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑛𐑦𐑟𐑲𐑯 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑤𐑲𐑑 𐑝 𐑒𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑦𐑕𐑦𐑟𐑩𐑥 𐑯 𐑒𐑪𐑥𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑕 𐑚𐑲 𐑞 𐑡𐑳𐑡𐑩𐑟. 𐑲 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑭𐑕𐑒𐑑 𐑑 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑛𐑳𐑒𐑑 𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑦𐑯𐑕𐑿𐑦𐑙 𐑒𐑪𐑮𐑦𐑕𐑐𐑪𐑯𐑛𐑩𐑯𐑕, 𐑯 𐑑 𐑚𐑦𐑜𐑦𐑯 𐑚𐑲 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑰𐑗 𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑯𐑴 𐑢𐑪𐑑 𐑢𐑰 𐑔𐑷𐑑 𐑦𐑯 𐑛𐑰𐑑𐑱𐑤 𐑝 𐑣𐑦𐑟 𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑮𐑦. 𐑯𐑬 𐑢𐑰, 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑒𐑹𐑕 𐑝 𐑬𐑼 𐑡𐑳𐑡𐑦𐑙, 𐑣𐑨𐑛 𐑣𐑨𐑛 𐑞 𐑪𐑐𐑼𐑑𐑿𐑯𐑩𐑑𐑦 (𐑯, 𐑲 𐑥𐑳𐑕𐑑 𐑕𐑱 𐑓 𐑥𐑲𐑕𐑧𐑤𐑓, 𐑞 𐑦𐑒𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑰𐑥𐑤𐑦 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑼𐑧𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑦𐑒𐑕𐑐𐑽𐑾𐑯𐑕) 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑴𐑯𐑤𐑦 𐑝 𐑦𐑯𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑒𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑕𐑧𐑝𐑮𐑩𐑤 𐑣𐑳𐑯𐑛𐑮𐑩𐑛 𐑯𐑿𐑤𐑦-𐑛𐑦𐑟𐑲𐑯𐑛 𐑼𐑦𐑡𐑩𐑯𐑩𐑤 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑𐑕, 𐑚𐑳𐑑 𐑝 𐑓𐑹𐑥𐑦𐑙 𐑰𐑗 𐑣𐑦𐑟 𐑴𐑯 𐑩𐑐𐑦𐑯𐑘𐑩𐑯, 𐑯 𐑬𐑼 𐑡𐑶𐑯𐑑 𐑩𐑐𐑦𐑯𐑘𐑩𐑯𐑟, 𐑚𐑱𐑕𐑑 𐑪𐑯 𐑞 𐑦𐑒𐑕𐑐𐑽𐑾𐑯𐑕 𐑕𐑴 𐑜𐑱𐑯𐑛 𐑨𐑟 𐑑 𐑞 𐑚𐑱𐑕𐑦𐑒 𐑒𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑽𐑾 𐑓 𐑩 𐑕𐑒𐑮𐑦𐑐𐑑 𐑕𐑵𐑑𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑓 𐑞 𐑑𐑮𐑨𐑯𐑟𐑤𐑦𐑑𐑼𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯—𐑞 𐑥𐑦𐑯𐑦𐑥𐑩𐑥 𐑮𐑦𐑒𐑢𐑲𐑼𐑥𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑕, 𐑨𐑟 𐑦𐑑 𐑢𐑻, 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑐𐑴𐑟𐑛 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑 𐑖𐑫𐑛 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑓𐑹𐑥 𐑑 𐑓 𐑒𐑩𐑥𐑐𐑤𐑰𐑑 𐑩𐑒𐑕𐑧𐑐𐑑𐑩𐑚𐑦𐑤𐑩𐑑𐑦. 𐑡𐑳𐑕𐑑 𐑚𐑦𐑒𐑪𐑟 𐑯𐑴 𐑦𐑯𐑛𐑦𐑝𐑦𐑡𐑵𐑩𐑤 𐑒𐑩𐑥𐑐𐑧𐑑𐑦𐑑𐑼 𐑣𐑨𐑛 𐑥𐑧𐑑 𐑷𐑤 𐑞𐑰𐑟 𐑛𐑦𐑥𐑭𐑯𐑛𐑟, 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑲𐑟-𐑥𐑳𐑯𐑦 𐑣𐑨𐑛 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑚𐑰𐑯 𐑩𐑢𐑹𐑛𐑩𐑛 𐑑 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑬𐑑𐑕𐑑𐑨𐑯𐑛𐑦𐑙𐑤𐑦 𐑕𐑩𐑒𐑕𐑧𐑕𐑓𐑩𐑤 𐑛𐑦𐑟𐑲𐑯.

𐑞 𐑮𐑦𐑕𐑐𐑪𐑯𐑕 𐑝 𐑞 𐑓𐑹 𐑒𐑩𐑥𐑐𐑧𐑑𐑦𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑝𐑺𐑦𐑛; 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑛𐑮𐑪𐑐𐑑 𐑬𐑑 𐑦𐑥𐑰𐑛𐑾𐑑𐑤𐑦 𐑯 𐑑𐑫𐑒 𐑯𐑴 𐑓𐑻𐑞𐑼 𐑐𐑸𐑑 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑕𐑰𐑛𐑦𐑙𐑟; 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑕𐑩𐑚𐑥𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑕𐑧𐑝𐑮𐑩𐑤 𐑒𐑩𐑥𐑐𐑤𐑰𐑑𐑤𐑦 𐑓𐑮𐑧𐑖 𐑛𐑦𐑟𐑲𐑯𐑟 𐑦𐑯 𐑩 𐑖𐑹𐑑 𐑕𐑐𐑱𐑕 𐑝 𐑑𐑲𐑥; 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑼𐑛 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑵 𐑝𐑧𐑮𐑦 𐑓𐑫𐑤 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑒𐑳𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑥𐑰, 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑤𐑲𐑑 𐑝 𐑢𐑦𐑗 𐑣𐑰 𐑕𐑧𐑑 𐑩𐑚𐑬𐑑 𐑥𐑪𐑛𐑦𐑓𐑲𐑦𐑙 𐑣𐑦𐑟 𐑛𐑦𐑟𐑲𐑯. 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑤𐑭𐑕𐑑 𐑢𐑪𐑟 ·𐑥𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑼 𐑒𐑦𐑙𐑟𐑤𐑦 𐑮𐑰𐑛, 𐑣𐑵𐑟 𐑓𐑲𐑯𐑩𐑤 𐑮𐑰𐑒𐑭𐑕𐑑 𐑝𐑻𐑠𐑩𐑯 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑦𐑝𐑧𐑯𐑗𐑵𐑩𐑤𐑦 𐑮𐑰𐑕𐑩𐑚𐑥𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑑 𐑷𐑤 𐑞 𐑡𐑳𐑡𐑩𐑟 𐑯 𐑩𐑐𐑮𐑵𐑝𐑛 𐑓 𐑿𐑕 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑑𐑮𐑨𐑯𐑟𐑤𐑦𐑑𐑼𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯, 𐑞𐑳𐑕 𐑚𐑦𐑒𐑳𐑥𐑦𐑙 ‘𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯’, 𐑞 ·𐑚𐑻𐑯𐑼𐑛 𐑖𐑷 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑. 𐑞 𐑦𐑒𐑕𐑑𐑧𐑯𐑑 𐑝 𐑞 𐑮𐑰𐑒𐑭𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑥𐑱 𐑚𐑰 𐑡𐑳𐑡𐑛 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑞 𐑓𐑨𐑒𐑑 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑴𐑯𐑤𐑦 𐑩𐑚𐑬𐑑 𐑑𐑧𐑯 𐑒𐑨𐑮𐑩𐑒𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑬𐑑 𐑝 𐑞 𐑑𐑴𐑑𐑩𐑤 𐑝 48 𐑮𐑰𐑩𐑐𐑽𐑛 𐑳𐑯𐑗𐑱𐑯𐑡𐑛, 𐑯 𐑝 𐑞𐑰𐑟 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑥𐑹 𐑞𐑨𐑯 𐑑𐑵 𐑹 𐑔𐑮𐑰 𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑱𐑯 𐑞𐑺 𐑼𐑦𐑡𐑩𐑯𐑩𐑤 𐑝𐑨𐑤𐑿, 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑦𐑟, 𐑕𐑑𐑨𐑯𐑛 𐑓 𐑞 𐑕𐑬𐑯𐑛 𐑞𐑱 𐑕𐑑𐑫𐑛 𐑓 𐑐𐑮𐑰𐑝𐑾𐑕𐑤𐑦. 𐑘𐑧𐑑 𐑞 𐑴𐑝𐑼𐑷𐑤 𐑩𐑐𐑽𐑩𐑯𐑕 𐑝 𐑞 𐑛𐑦𐑟𐑲𐑯 𐑦𐑟 𐑕𐑴 𐑕𐑦𐑥𐑩𐑤𐑼 𐑨𐑟 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑳𐑯𐑥𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑱𐑒𐑩𐑚𐑤𐑦 𐑞 𐑢𐑻𐑒 𐑝 𐑞 𐑕𐑱𐑥 𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛, 𐑯 𐑒𐑢𐑲𐑑 𐑳𐑯𐑤𐑲𐑒 𐑷𐑤 𐑳𐑞𐑼 𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑮𐑦𐑟. 𐑦𐑑 𐑥𐑱 𐑚𐑰 𐑝 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑮𐑩𐑕𐑑 𐑦𐑓 𐑲 𐑥𐑧𐑯𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑞 𐑥𐑱𐑯 𐑓𐑰𐑗𐑼 𐑦𐑯 ·𐑥𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑼 𐑮𐑰𐑛𐑟 𐑒𐑪𐑥𐑐𐑩𐑑𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑮𐑦 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑞 𐑡𐑳𐑡𐑩𐑟 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑦𐑛𐑼𐑛 𐑳𐑯𐑕𐑨𐑑𐑦𐑕𐑓𐑨𐑒𐑑𐑼𐑦 𐑯 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑣𐑰 𐑤𐑱𐑑𐑼 𐑦𐑤𐑦𐑥𐑦𐑯𐑱𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑕𐑩𐑒𐑕𐑧𐑕𐑓𐑩𐑤𐑦: 𐑦𐑑 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑕𐑻𐑑𐑩𐑯 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼 𐑖𐑱𐑐𐑕 𐑢𐑻 𐑿𐑟𐑛 𐑳𐑯𐑗𐑱𐑯𐑡𐑛 𐑓 𐑛𐑦𐑓𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑕𐑬𐑯𐑛𐑟 𐑦𐑒𐑕𐑧𐑐𐑑 𐑓 𐑚𐑰𐑦𐑙 𐑐𐑤𐑱𐑕𐑑 𐑦𐑯 𐑛𐑦𐑓𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑐𐑩𐑟𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑦𐑯 𐑮𐑦𐑤𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑑 𐑳𐑞𐑼 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟; 𐑓 𐑦𐑯𐑕𐑑𐑩𐑯𐑕 𐑩 𐑜𐑦𐑝𐑩𐑯 𐑖𐑱𐑐 𐑥𐑲𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑐𐑤𐑱𐑕𐑑 𐑣𐑲 𐑦𐑯 𐑮𐑦𐑤𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑑 𐑞 𐑤𐑲𐑯 𐑝 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑑 𐑕𐑑𐑨𐑯𐑛 𐑓 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑕𐑬𐑯𐑛, 𐑯 𐑞 𐑕𐑱𐑥 𐑖𐑱𐑐 𐑐𐑤𐑱𐑕𐑑 𐑤𐑴 𐑦𐑯 𐑮𐑦𐑤𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑑 𐑞 𐑤𐑲𐑯 𐑑 𐑕𐑑𐑨𐑯𐑛 𐑓 𐑕𐑳𐑥 𐑳𐑞𐑼 𐑕𐑬𐑯𐑛. 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑢𐑫𐑛 𐑥𐑰𐑯, 𐑝 𐑒𐑹𐑕, 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑞 𐑓𐑹𐑥 𐑦𐑑𐑕𐑧𐑤𐑓 𐑒𐑫𐑛 𐑯𐑧𐑝𐑼 𐑚𐑰 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑼𐑳𐑐𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑳𐑯𐑨𐑥𐑚𐑦𐑜𐑿𐑩𐑕𐑤𐑦 𐑦𐑯 𐑲𐑕𐑩𐑤𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯, 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑦𐑟, 𐑢𐑦𐑞𐑬𐑑 𐑳𐑞𐑼 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑹 𐑨𐑑 𐑤𐑰𐑕𐑑 𐑕𐑳𐑥 𐑦𐑕𐑧𐑯𐑖𐑩𐑤 𐑜𐑲𐑛 𐑤𐑲𐑯 𐑹 𐑮𐑵𐑤 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑢𐑦𐑗 𐑑 𐑡𐑳𐑡 𐑦𐑑𐑕 𐑮𐑧𐑤𐑩𐑑𐑦𐑝 𐑐𐑩𐑟𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑯. 𐑢𐑧𐑯 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑩𐑛𐑝𐑭𐑯𐑑𐑦𐑡 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑚𐑮𐑷𐑑 𐑑 𐑞 𐑛𐑦𐑟𐑲𐑯𐑼𐑟 𐑩𐑑𐑧𐑯𐑖𐑩𐑯, 𐑣𐑰 𐑓𐑬𐑯𐑛 𐑣𐑦𐑥𐑕𐑧𐑤𐑓 𐑦𐑯𐑝𐑪𐑤𐑝𐑛 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑮𐑨𐑛𐑦𐑒𐑩𐑤 𐑮𐑰𐑒𐑭𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑒𐑮𐑲𐑚𐑛 𐑩𐑚𐑳𐑝, 𐑚𐑳𐑑 𐑦𐑝𐑧𐑯𐑗𐑵𐑩𐑤𐑦 𐑒𐑱𐑥 𐑳𐑐 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑞 𐑥𐑭𐑕𐑑𐑼𐑤𐑦 𐑕𐑩𐑤𐑵𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑢𐑰 𐑕𐑰 𐑑𐑩𐑛𐑱.

𐑦𐑯 𐑧𐑒𐑕𐑦𐑒𐑿𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑞 𐑑𐑮𐑨𐑯𐑟𐑤𐑦𐑑𐑼𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯, 𐑲 𐑣𐑨𐑛 𐑩 𐑯𐑳𐑥𐑚𐑼 𐑝 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑦𐑠𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑝 𐑥𐑲 𐑴𐑯 𐑑 𐑥𐑱𐑒, 𐑯𐑴𐑑𐑩𐑚𐑤𐑦 𐑨𐑟 𐑑 𐑞 𐑑𐑮𐑰𐑑𐑥𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑝 𐑞 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼 R, 𐑞 𐑮𐑧𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑟𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑝 𐑕𐑦𐑤𐑨𐑚𐑦𐑒 𐑒𐑪𐑯𐑕𐑩𐑯𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑕, 𐑝 𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑪𐑙 𐑯 𐑢𐑰𐑒 𐑓𐑹𐑥𐑟, 𐑯 𐑝 𐑒𐑹𐑕 𐑞 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑤𐑦𐑙 𐑝 𐑩 𐑯𐑳𐑥𐑚𐑼 𐑝 𐑛𐑬𐑑𐑓𐑩𐑤 𐑢𐑻𐑛𐑟. 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑦𐑯𐑒𐑤𐑵𐑛𐑩𐑛 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑪𐑚𐑤𐑩𐑥 𐑝 𐑥𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑢𐑻𐑛𐑟 𐑣𐑨𐑝𐑦𐑙 𐑩𐑒𐑕𐑧𐑐𐑑𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑷𐑤𐑑𐑻𐑯𐑩𐑑𐑦𐑝 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑳𐑯𐑕𐑦𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟, 𐑰𐑝𐑩𐑯 𐑢𐑦𐑞𐑬𐑑 𐑜𐑴𐑦𐑙 𐑬𐑑𐑕𐑲𐑛 𐑞 𐑡𐑧𐑯𐑮𐑩𐑤 𐑑𐑲𐑐 𐑝 𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑤𐑦𐑖 𐑞𐑨𐑑 ·𐑖𐑷 𐑣𐑦𐑥𐑕𐑧𐑤𐑓 𐑣𐑨𐑛 𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑐𐑘𐑩𐑤𐑱𐑑𐑩𐑛, 𐑯𐑱𐑥𐑤𐑦 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑕𐑐𐑴𐑒𐑩𐑯 𐑚𐑲 𐑣𐑦𐑟 𐑥𐑨𐑡𐑩𐑕𐑑𐑦 ·𐑒𐑦𐑙 𐑡𐑹𐑡 V. 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑞 𐑡𐑳𐑡𐑩𐑟 𐑢𐑻 𐑱𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑑 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑻𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑑 𐑨𐑟 𐑦𐑯𐑛𐑦𐑒𐑱𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑩 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑳𐑯𐑕𐑦𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑢𐑲𐑛𐑤𐑦 𐑯𐑴𐑯 𐑑 𐑤𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑢𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑕 𐑯 𐑓𐑴𐑯𐑩𐑑𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑨𐑟 𐑮𐑦𐑕𐑰𐑝𐑛 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑳𐑯𐑕𐑦𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯. 𐑲 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑲𐑛𐑩𐑛 𐑑𐑵 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑞𐑴 𐑩𐑥𐑧𐑮𐑦𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑥𐑲𐑑 𐑓𐑱𐑝𐑼 𐑩 𐑕𐑻𐑑𐑩𐑯 𐑯𐑳𐑥𐑚𐑼 𐑝 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑤𐑦𐑙 𐑛𐑦𐑓𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑩𐑟, 𐑑 𐑓𐑦𐑑 𐑚𐑧𐑑𐑼 𐑞𐑺 𐑴𐑯 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑦𐑚𐑿𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑝 𐑕𐑬𐑯𐑛𐑟 (𐑞𐑺, 𐑹 𐑧𐑯𐑦𐑢𐑳𐑯𐑟, 𐑛𐑦𐑓𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑥𐑨𐑯𐑼 𐑝 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑬𐑯𐑕𐑦𐑙 𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑤𐑦𐑖 𐑕𐑬𐑯𐑛𐑟 𐑨𐑟 𐑕𐑳𐑗 𐑚𐑰𐑦𐑙 𐑦𐑮𐑧𐑤𐑩𐑝𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑑 𐑞 𐑹𐑔𐑪𐑜𐑮𐑩𐑓𐑦), 𐑯𐑧𐑝𐑼𐑞𐑩𐑤𐑧𐑕 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑪𐑐𐑼 𐑢𐑱 𐑑 𐑑𐑮𐑨𐑯𐑟𐑒𐑮𐑲𐑚 𐑞𐑦𐑕, 𐑞 𐑓𐑻𐑕𐑑 𐑐𐑳𐑚𐑤𐑦𐑒𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑦𐑯 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯, 𐑧𐑥𐑩𐑯𐑱𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 ·𐑚𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑯 𐑯 𐑥𐑹𐑴𐑝𐑼 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑓𐑹𐑥𐑦𐑙 𐑑 ·𐑖𐑷𐑟 𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑕𐑒𐑮𐑦𐑐𐑖𐑩𐑯, 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑑 𐑑𐑮𐑨𐑯𐑟𐑤𐑦𐑑𐑼𐑱𐑑 𐑞 𐑢𐑻𐑛𐑟 𐑦𐑯 𐑩𐑒𐑹𐑛𐑩𐑯𐑕 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑞 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑝𐑧𐑯𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑝 𐑞 𐑯𐑿 𐑕𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑩𐑥 𐑯 𐑦𐑯 𐑤𐑲𐑯 𐑡𐑧𐑯𐑮𐑩𐑤𐑦 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑳𐑯𐑕𐑦𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑤𐑲𐑒𐑤𐑦 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑣𐑻𐑛 𐑪𐑯 𐑞 𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑤𐑦𐑖 𐑕𐑑𐑱𐑡.

𐑣𐑽 𐑯𐑬 𐑦𐑟 𐑩 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑕𐑦𐑥𐑩𐑯 𐑝 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯 𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑦𐑙—𐑞 𐑕𐑧𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑛 𐑐𐑸𐑑 𐑝 𐑞 ·𐑜𐑧𐑑𐑦𐑟𐑚𐑻𐑜 𐑩𐑛𐑮𐑧𐑕 𐑚𐑲 ·𐑱𐑚𐑮𐑩𐑣𐑨𐑥 𐑤𐑦𐑙𐑒𐑩𐑯. 𐑞𐑺 𐑓𐑪𐑤𐑴 𐑮𐑰𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑛𐑳𐑒𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑝 𐑞 𐑑𐑵 𐑕𐑲𐑛𐑟 𐑝 𐑞 𐑒𐑸𐑛 𐑦𐑯𐑕𐑻𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑦𐑯 𐑰𐑗 𐑒𐑪𐑐𐑦 𐑝 ·𐑨𐑯𐑛𐑮𐑩𐑒𐑤𐑰𐑟 𐑯 𐑞 𐑤𐑲𐑩𐑯, ·𐑖𐑷 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑 𐑦𐑛𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑯, (·𐑐𐑧𐑙𐑜𐑢𐑦𐑯 𐑚𐑫𐑒𐑕 𐑤𐑦𐑥𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑛), 𐑪𐑯 𐑢𐑦𐑗 𐑩𐑐𐑽 𐑒𐑤𐑨𐑕𐑦𐑓𐑲𐑛 𐑤𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑕 𐑝 𐑞 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟, 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑒𐑰𐑢𐑻𐑛𐑟 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑕𐑻𐑝 𐑷𐑤𐑕𐑴 𐑨𐑟 𐑞 𐑨𐑒𐑗𐑵𐑩𐑤 𐑯𐑱𐑥𐑟 𐑝 𐑞𐑴𐑟 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟, 𐑚𐑲 𐑞 𐑣𐑧𐑤𐑐 𐑝 𐑢𐑦𐑗 𐑞 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑧𐑒𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑑𐑧𐑒𐑕𐑑 𐑥𐑱 𐑚𐑰 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑲𐑓𐑼𐑛. 𐑷𐑤𐑑𐑻𐑯𐑩𐑑𐑦𐑝𐑤𐑦, 𐑞 𐑯𐑿 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑤𐑦𐑙 𐑝𐑻𐑠𐑩𐑯 𐑝 𐑞 𐑩𐑛𐑮𐑧𐑕 (𐑐𐑱𐑡 118) 𐑥𐑱 𐑚𐑰 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑳𐑤𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑓 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑐𐑻𐑐𐑩𐑕.

gettysburg address

𐑤𐑧𐑑 𐑥𐑰 𐑛𐑮𐑷 𐑘𐑹 𐑩𐑑𐑧𐑯𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑑 𐑕𐑳𐑥 𐑝 𐑞 𐑕𐑱𐑤𐑾𐑯𐑑 𐑓𐑰𐑗𐑼𐑟 𐑝 𐑞 𐑕𐑒𐑮𐑦𐑐𐑑.

𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯 𐑦𐑟 𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑯, 𐑯 𐑮𐑧𐑛, 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑤𐑧𐑓𐑑 𐑑 𐑮𐑲𐑑 𐑩𐑒𐑮𐑪𐑕 𐑞 𐑐𐑱𐑡 𐑹 𐑳𐑞𐑼 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑕𐑻𐑓𐑦𐑕, 𐑦𐑯 𐑤𐑲𐑯𐑟 𐑢𐑦𐑗 𐑮𐑳𐑯 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑑𐑪𐑐 𐑑 𐑚𐑪𐑑𐑩𐑥 𐑝 𐑞 𐑐𐑱𐑡—𐑡𐑳𐑕𐑑 𐑨𐑟 𐑞𐑱 𐑛𐑵 𐑦𐑯 𐑒𐑳𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑮𐑴𐑥𐑩𐑯 𐑿𐑕𐑦𐑡. 𐑞𐑺 𐑦𐑟 𐑝 𐑒𐑹𐑕 𐑯𐑳𐑔𐑦𐑙 𐑦𐑯𐑧𐑝𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑹 𐑿𐑯𐑦𐑝𐑻𐑕𐑩𐑤 𐑩𐑚𐑬𐑑 𐑬𐑼 𐑐𐑮𐑧𐑟𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑢𐑱 𐑝 𐑛𐑵𐑦𐑙 𐑞𐑰𐑟 𐑔𐑦𐑙𐑟,—𐑯 𐑩 𐑕𐑻𐑑𐑩𐑯 𐑯𐑳𐑥𐑚𐑼 𐑝 𐑞 𐑒𐑪𐑥𐑐𐑩𐑑𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑮𐑦𐑟 𐑛𐑦𐑛 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑐𐑴𐑟 𐑩 𐑛𐑦𐑐𐑸𐑗𐑼 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑑𐑮𐑩𐑛𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑦𐑯 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑝𐑧𐑮𐑦 𐑥𐑨𐑑𐑼; 𐑯𐑧𐑝𐑼𐑞𐑩𐑤𐑧𐑕 𐑞 𐑢𐑦𐑯𐑦𐑙 𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑮𐑦 𐑳𐑯𐑛𐑬𐑑𐑩𐑛𐑤𐑦 𐑒𐑩𐑥𐑧𐑯𐑛𐑩𐑛 𐑦𐑑𐑕𐑧𐑤𐑓 𐑑 𐑞 𐑡𐑳𐑡𐑩𐑟 𐑪𐑯 𐑞 𐑜𐑮𐑬𐑯𐑛𐑟 (𐑩𐑥𐑳𐑙 𐑥𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑳𐑞𐑼𐑟) 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑦𐑯 𐑦𐑑, 𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑨𐑚𐑤𐑦𐑖𐑑 𐑐𐑮𐑨𐑒𐑑𐑦𐑕 𐑨𐑟 𐑑 𐑞 𐑛𐑲𐑮𐑧𐑒𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑝 𐑞 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑱𐑯𐑛.

𐑩 𐑤𐑲𐑯 𐑝 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑕 𐑝 𐑩 𐑕𐑰𐑒𐑢𐑩𐑯𐑕 𐑝 𐑕𐑧𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑑 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼 𐑖𐑱𐑐𐑕 (𐑩𐑐𐑸𐑑 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑤𐑦𐑜𐑩𐑗𐑼𐑛 𐑓𐑹𐑥𐑟, 𐑕𐑰 𐑚𐑦𐑤𐑴), 𐑯 𐑞𐑰𐑟 𐑸 𐑜𐑮𐑵𐑐𐑑 𐑚𐑲 𐑢𐑻𐑛𐑟, 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑦𐑟, 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑩 𐑚𐑤𐑨𐑙𐑒 𐑕𐑐𐑱𐑕 𐑑 𐑥𐑸𐑒 𐑪𐑓 𐑢𐑻𐑛 𐑛𐑦𐑝𐑦𐑠𐑩𐑯. 𐑦𐑯 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑮𐑦𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑒𐑑 𐑑𐑵, 𐑨𐑟 𐑷𐑤𐑕𐑴 𐑦𐑯 𐑥𐑨𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑝 𐑐𐑳𐑙𐑒𐑗𐑵𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑡𐑧𐑯𐑮𐑩𐑤𐑦, 𐑒𐑳𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑿𐑕𐑦𐑡 𐑮𐑦𐑥𐑱𐑯𐑟 𐑳𐑯𐑷𐑤𐑑𐑼𐑛.

𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑸 𐑝 𐑔𐑮𐑰 𐑕𐑲𐑟𐑩𐑟 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑝𐑻𐑑𐑦𐑒𐑩𐑤 𐑛𐑲𐑥𐑧𐑯𐑖𐑩𐑯:— 𐑖𐑹𐑑𐑕, 𐑒𐑪𐑮𐑦𐑕𐑐𐑪𐑯𐑛𐑦𐑙 𐑑 𐑤𐑴𐑼-𐑒𐑱𐑕 𐑕𐑹𐑑𐑕 𐑝 x—𐑹 𐑮𐑦𐑚𐑩𐑯— 𐑣𐑲𐑑; 𐑑𐑷𐑤𐑟, 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑩𐑕𐑧𐑯𐑛 𐑩𐑚𐑳𐑝 𐑞 𐑮𐑦𐑚𐑩𐑯 𐑢𐑲𐑤 𐑕𐑑𐑨𐑯𐑛𐑦𐑙 𐑪𐑯 𐑞 𐑕𐑱𐑥 𐑚𐑱𐑕; 𐑯 𐑛𐑰𐑐𐑕, 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑓𐑷𐑤 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑞 𐑑𐑪𐑐 𐑤𐑧𐑝𐑩𐑤 𐑝 𐑞 𐑮𐑦𐑚𐑩𐑯 𐑑 𐑚𐑦𐑤𐑴 𐑦𐑑𐑕 𐑚𐑱𐑕. 𐑦𐑯 𐑳𐑞𐑼 𐑢𐑻𐑛𐑟, 𐑣𐑽 𐑩𐑜𐑱𐑯 𐑞𐑺 𐑦𐑟 𐑤𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑤 𐑛𐑦𐑐𐑸𐑗𐑼 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑧𐑟𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑕𐑑𐑱𐑑 𐑝 𐑩𐑓𐑺𐑟 𐑦𐑯 𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑮𐑴𐑥𐑩𐑯 (𐑕𐑳𐑥 𐑒𐑻𐑕𐑦𐑝 𐑮𐑴𐑥𐑩𐑯 𐑓𐑹𐑥𐑟, 𐑓 𐑦𐑜𐑟𐑭𐑥𐑐𐑩𐑤, 𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑯 f 𐑥𐑱 𐑚𐑴𐑔 𐑩𐑕𐑧𐑯𐑛 𐑯 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑧𐑯𐑛 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑞 𐑮𐑦𐑚𐑩𐑯). 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑐𐑹𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑝 𐑩𐑕𐑧𐑯𐑛𐑼𐑟 𐑯 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑧𐑯𐑛𐑼𐑟 𐑑 x-𐑣𐑲𐑑 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑣𐑨𐑟 𐑚𐑰𐑯 𐑼𐑱𐑯𐑡𐑛 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑩𐑚𐑬𐑑 𐑞 𐑕𐑱𐑥 𐑨𐑟 𐑦𐑯 𐑮𐑴𐑥𐑩𐑯, 𐑚𐑳𐑑 𐑩𐑕𐑧𐑯𐑛𐑼𐑟 𐑯 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑧𐑯𐑛𐑼𐑟 𐑸 𐑥𐑹 𐑰𐑒𐑢𐑩𐑤𐑦 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑦𐑚𐑿𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑞𐑨𐑯 𐑯𐑬 𐑨𐑟 𐑚𐑦𐑑𐑢𐑰𐑯 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑩𐑯𐑳𐑞𐑼 (𐑞𐑺 𐑚𐑰𐑦𐑙 𐑦𐑯 𐑮𐑴𐑥𐑩𐑯 𐑩𐑚𐑬𐑑 𐑕𐑦𐑒𐑕 𐑑𐑲𐑥𐑟 𐑨𐑟 𐑥𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑩𐑕𐑧𐑯𐑛𐑦𐑙 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑨𐑟 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑧𐑯𐑛𐑦𐑙 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑪𐑯 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑐𐑱𐑡). 𐑞𐑰𐑟 𐑗𐑱𐑯𐑡𐑩𐑟 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑚𐑰𐑯 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑧𐑯𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑩𐑤𐑦 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑮𐑩𐑛𐑿𐑕𐑑 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑯𐑪𐑤𐑦𐑡 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑦𐑯 𐑯𐑹𐑥𐑩𐑤 𐑮𐑨𐑐𐑦𐑛 𐑮𐑰𐑛𐑦𐑙, 𐑢𐑻𐑛𐑟 𐑸 𐑮𐑧𐑒𐑩𐑜𐑯𐑲𐑟𐑛 𐑨𐑟 𐑣𐑴𐑤𐑟, 𐑯 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑦𐑑 𐑦𐑟 𐑝𐑦𐑟𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑛𐑦𐑓𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑩𐑟 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑧𐑒𐑕𐑑𐑻𐑯𐑩𐑤 𐑬𐑑𐑤𐑲𐑯 𐑹 𐑕𐑦𐑤𐑵𐑧𐑑 𐑝 𐑢𐑻𐑛𐑟 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑸 𐑥𐑱𐑯𐑤𐑦 𐑦𐑯𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑩𐑥𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑩𐑤 𐑦𐑯 𐑦𐑯𐑱𐑚𐑤𐑦𐑙 𐑞 𐑲 𐑮𐑨𐑐𐑦𐑛𐑤𐑦 𐑑 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑒𐑮𐑦𐑥𐑦𐑯𐑱𐑑 𐑚𐑦𐑑𐑢𐑰𐑯 𐑛𐑦𐑓𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑢𐑻𐑛𐑟 𐑯 𐑕𐑴 𐑑 𐑜𐑮𐑭𐑕𐑐 𐑞𐑺 𐑥𐑰𐑯𐑦𐑙. 𐑤𐑪𐑙 𐑕𐑰𐑒𐑢𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑩𐑟 𐑝 x-𐑣𐑲𐑑 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑑𐑧𐑯𐑛 𐑝 𐑒𐑹𐑕 𐑑𐑩𐑢𐑹𐑛𐑟 𐑿𐑯𐑦𐑓𐑹𐑥𐑩𐑑𐑦 𐑝 𐑚𐑴𐑔 𐑑𐑪𐑐 𐑯 𐑚𐑪𐑑𐑩𐑥 𐑬𐑑𐑤𐑲𐑯, 𐑚𐑳𐑑 𐑕𐑰𐑒𐑢𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑩𐑟 𐑝 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑕𐑑𐑨𐑯𐑛𐑦𐑙 𐑪𐑯 𐑞 𐑚𐑱𐑕 𐑝 𐑞 𐑮𐑦𐑚𐑩𐑯, 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑦𐑟, 𐑞𐑴𐑟 𐑝 x-𐑣𐑲𐑑 𐑑𐑩𐑜𐑧𐑞𐑼 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑞𐑴𐑟 𐑣𐑨𐑝𐑦𐑙 𐑩𐑕𐑧𐑯𐑛𐑼𐑟, (𐑢𐑦𐑗 𐑢𐑫𐑛 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑛𐑿𐑕 𐑿𐑯𐑦𐑓𐑹𐑥𐑩𐑑𐑦 𐑝 𐑞 𐑚𐑪𐑑𐑩𐑥 𐑬𐑑𐑤𐑲𐑯) 𐑸 𐑨𐑟 𐑩 𐑮𐑦𐑟𐑳𐑤𐑑 𐑝 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑷𐑤𐑑𐑼𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑤𐑧𐑕 𐑤𐑲𐑒𐑤𐑦 𐑑 𐑩𐑒𐑻 𐑦𐑯 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯 𐑞𐑨𐑯 𐑦𐑯 𐑮𐑴𐑥𐑩𐑯. 𐑦𐑑 𐑥𐑱 𐑣𐑬𐑧𐑝𐑼 𐑚𐑰 𐑯𐑴𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑞 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯 𐑑𐑷𐑤𐑟 𐑯 𐑛𐑰𐑐𐑕 𐑛𐑵 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑛𐑦𐑐𐑧𐑯𐑛 𐑓 𐑲𐑛𐑧𐑯𐑑𐑦𐑓𐑦𐑒𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑕𐑴𐑤𐑤𐑦 𐑪𐑯 𐑞 𐑓𐑨𐑒𐑑 𐑝 𐑞𐑺 𐑣𐑨𐑝𐑦𐑙 𐑩𐑕𐑧𐑯𐑛𐑼𐑟 𐑯 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑧𐑯𐑛𐑼𐑟 𐑮𐑦𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑒𐑑𐑦𐑝𐑤𐑦: 𐑞𐑱 𐑸 𐑷𐑤𐑮𐑧𐑛𐑦 𐑨𐑛𐑩𐑒𐑢𐑩𐑑𐑤𐑦 𐑛𐑦𐑓𐑼𐑧𐑯𐑖𐑦𐑱𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑚𐑲 𐑞𐑺 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑮𐑦𐑯𐑟𐑦𐑒 𐑖𐑱𐑐𐑕. 𐑕𐑴 𐑦𐑑 𐑢𐑫𐑛 𐑚𐑰 𐑐𐑻𐑓𐑦𐑒𐑑𐑤𐑦 𐑓𐑰𐑟𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤, 𐑯 𐑥𐑲𐑑 𐑢𐑧𐑤 𐑚𐑰 𐑓𐑬𐑯𐑛 𐑛𐑦𐑟𐑲𐑼𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑓 𐑕𐑻𐑑𐑩𐑯 𐑐𐑻𐑐𐑩𐑕𐑩𐑟, 𐑓 𐑦𐑜𐑟𐑭𐑥𐑐𐑩𐑤, 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑐𐑤𐑱 𐑢𐑻𐑒, 𐑑 𐑿𐑟 𐑓𐑬𐑯𐑑𐑕 𐑝 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑷𐑤 𐑝 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑕𐑲𐑟—𐑞𐑺 𐑚𐑰𐑦𐑙 𐑦𐑯 𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑒𐑱𐑕 𐑯𐑴 𐑒𐑨𐑐𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑤𐑟.

𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑚𐑮𐑦𐑙𐑟 𐑥𐑰 𐑑 𐑞 𐑓𐑻𐑕𐑑 𐑐𐑶𐑯𐑑 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑥𐑧𐑯𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑛 𐑞𐑳𐑕 𐑓𐑸, 𐑦𐑥𐑚𐑪𐑛𐑦𐑦𐑙 𐑩 𐑯𐑴𐑑𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑛𐑲𐑝𐑻𐑡𐑩𐑯𐑕 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑒𐑳𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑮𐑴𐑥𐑩𐑯 𐑿𐑕𐑦𐑡 (𐑩𐑕𐑲𐑛, 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑦𐑟, 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑞 𐑓𐑹𐑥𐑟 𐑯 𐑡𐑧𐑯𐑮𐑩𐑤 𐑩𐑐𐑽𐑩𐑯𐑕 𐑝 𐑞 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑞𐑧𐑥𐑕𐑧𐑤𐑝𐑟); 𐑞𐑺 𐑦𐑟 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑯𐑴 𐑛𐑦𐑓𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑕 𐑝 𐑖𐑱𐑐 (𐑹 𐑕𐑲𐑟 𐑹 𐑔𐑦𐑒𐑯𐑩𐑕, 𐑞𐑴 𐑞𐑰𐑟 𐑢𐑫𐑛 𐑚𐑰 𐑪𐑐𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑩𐑤) 𐑚𐑦𐑑𐑢𐑰𐑯 𐑦𐑯𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑤 𐑯 𐑳𐑞𐑼 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟, 𐑞𐑳𐑕 𐑦𐑤𐑦𐑥𐑦𐑯𐑱𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑝 𐑞 𐑥𐑱𐑡𐑼 𐑩𐑚𐑡𐑧𐑒𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑑 𐑒𐑳𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑮𐑴𐑥𐑩𐑯 𐑿𐑕𐑦𐑡: 𐑞 𐑓𐑨𐑒𐑑 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑞 26 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑕𐑴 𐑥𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑷𐑤𐑑𐑻𐑯𐑩𐑑𐑦𐑝 𐑖𐑱𐑐𐑕—𐑓 𐑒𐑨𐑐𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑤𐑟 𐑯 𐑤𐑴𐑼-𐑒𐑱𐑕, 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑑 𐑥𐑧𐑯𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑒𐑻𐑕𐑦𐑝 𐑓𐑹𐑥𐑟. 𐑑 𐑥𐑰𐑑 𐑞 𐑩𐑒𐑱𐑠𐑩𐑯𐑩𐑤 𐑯𐑰𐑛 𐑓 𐑩𐑯 𐑦𐑒𐑢𐑦𐑝𐑩𐑤𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑑 𐑒𐑨𐑐𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑤𐑲𐑟𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯, 𐑩 𐑮𐑱𐑟𐑛 ‘𐑯𐑱𐑥𐑼’ 𐑛𐑪𐑑 𐑦𐑟 𐑩𐑝𐑱𐑤𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑦𐑯 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯, 𐑓 𐑦𐑜𐑟𐑭𐑥𐑐𐑩𐑤, 𐑓 𐑐𐑮𐑪𐑐𐑼 𐑯𐑱𐑥𐑟, 𐑨𐑑 𐑤𐑰𐑕𐑑 𐑨𐑑 𐑞𐑺 𐑓𐑻𐑕𐑑 𐑩𐑒𐑳𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑕 𐑦𐑯 𐑩 𐑑𐑧𐑒𐑕𐑑, 𐑹 𐑢𐑺 𐑩𐑚𐑕𐑒𐑘𐑫𐑼𐑩𐑑𐑦 𐑥𐑲𐑑 𐑳𐑞𐑼𐑢𐑲𐑟 𐑮𐑦𐑟𐑳𐑤𐑑.

𐑨𐑟 𐑮𐑦𐑜𐑸𐑛𐑟 𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑯 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯, 𐑞 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑛𐑦𐑤𐑦𐑚𐑼𐑩𐑑𐑤𐑦 𐑚𐑰𐑯 𐑛𐑦𐑟𐑲𐑯𐑛 𐑕𐑴 𐑨𐑟 𐑑 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑒𐑳𐑮𐑦𐑡 𐑞 𐑒𐑻𐑕𐑦𐑝 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑝 𐑤𐑦𐑙𐑒𐑦𐑙 𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑴𐑒𐑕 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑓𐑹𐑥𐑦𐑙 𐑐𐑸𐑑 𐑝 𐑩 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼, 𐑞𐑳𐑕 𐑦𐑤𐑦𐑥𐑦𐑯𐑱𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑩 𐑕𐑹𐑕 𐑝 𐑥𐑳𐑗 𐑨𐑥𐑚𐑦𐑜𐑿𐑩𐑑𐑦 𐑯 𐑦𐑤𐑧𐑡𐑩𐑚𐑦𐑤𐑩𐑑𐑦 𐑦𐑯 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑧𐑒𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑦𐑙. 𐑦𐑓 𐑩𐑡𐑱𐑕𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑤𐑧𐑯𐑛 𐑞𐑧𐑥𐑕𐑧𐑤𐑝𐑟 𐑑 𐑡𐑶𐑯𐑦𐑙 𐑢𐑦𐑞­𐑬𐑑 𐑧𐑒𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑩 𐑤𐑦𐑙𐑒𐑦𐑙 𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑴𐑒𐑕, 𐑞𐑱 𐑥𐑱 𐑢𐑧𐑤 𐑚𐑰 𐑡𐑶𐑯𐑛 (𐑨𐑟 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯 𐑤𐑦𐑜𐑩𐑗𐑼𐑟 𐑸 𐑡𐑶𐑯𐑛), 𐑚𐑳𐑑 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑳𐑞𐑼𐑢𐑲𐑟, 𐑞 𐑦𐑯𐑧𐑝𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑳𐑐𐑢𐑼𐑛 𐑥𐑵𐑝𐑥𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑕 𐑝 𐑞 𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛 𐑚𐑦𐑑𐑢𐑰𐑯 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑚𐑰𐑦𐑙 𐑥𐑱𐑛 𐑪𐑓 𐑞 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑕𐑻𐑓𐑦𐑕 (𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑦𐑟, 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑺) 𐑦𐑯𐑕𐑑𐑧𐑛 𐑝 𐑦𐑯 𐑒𐑪𐑯𐑑𐑨𐑒𐑑 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑦𐑑, 𐑢𐑦𐑞, 𐑦𐑑 𐑦𐑟 𐑚𐑦𐑤𐑰𐑝𐑛, 𐑤𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑤 𐑦𐑓 𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑴𐑝𐑼𐑷𐑤 𐑕𐑤𐑴𐑦𐑙 𐑛𐑬𐑯 𐑝 𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛 𐑥𐑵𐑝𐑥𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑕, 𐑢𐑳𐑯𐑕 𐑞 𐑕𐑳𐑥𐑢𐑪𐑑 𐑛𐑦𐑓𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑑𐑧𐑒𐑯𐑰𐑒 𐑝 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑣𐑨𐑟 𐑚𐑰𐑯 𐑩𐑒𐑢𐑲𐑼𐑛. 𐑥𐑹𐑴𐑝𐑼 𐑥𐑳𐑗 𐑔𐑷𐑑 𐑢𐑪𐑟 𐑛𐑦𐑝𐑴𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑑 𐑦𐑯𐑖𐑫𐑼𐑦𐑙 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑞 𐑨𐑒𐑗𐑵𐑩𐑤 𐑖𐑱𐑐𐑕 𐑗𐑴𐑟𐑩𐑯 𐑓 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑖𐑫𐑛, 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑮𐑩𐑕𐑑 𐑝 𐑤𐑧𐑡𐑩𐑚𐑦𐑤𐑩𐑑𐑦, 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑤𐑧𐑯𐑛 𐑞𐑧𐑥𐑕𐑧𐑤𐑝𐑟 𐑑 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑓𐑿𐑠𐑩𐑯 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑩𐑯𐑳𐑞𐑼 𐑢𐑧𐑯 𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑯 𐑨𐑑 𐑕𐑐𐑰𐑛, 𐑹 𐑑 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑹𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑞𐑺 𐑚𐑱𐑕𐑦𐑒 𐑖𐑱𐑐, 𐑤𐑰𐑛𐑦𐑙 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑤𐑪𐑙 𐑮𐑳𐑯 𐑑 𐑛𐑲𐑝𐑻𐑡𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑩𐑟 𐑼𐑲𐑟𐑦𐑙 𐑚𐑦𐑑𐑢𐑰𐑯 𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑩𐑛 (𐑹 𐑑𐑲𐑐𐑑) 𐑯 𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑯 𐑓𐑹𐑥𐑟—𐑢𐑦𐑗 𐑦𐑟 𐑝 𐑒𐑹𐑕 𐑢𐑪𐑑 𐑣𐑨𐑟 𐑣𐑨𐑐𐑩𐑯𐑛 𐑦𐑯 𐑮𐑴𐑥𐑩𐑯, 𐑞𐑳𐑕 𐑜𐑦𐑝𐑦𐑙 𐑮𐑲𐑟 𐑑 𐑞 𐑥𐑳𐑤𐑑𐑦𐑐𐑤𐑦𐑕𐑩𐑑𐑦 𐑝 𐑓𐑹𐑥𐑟 𐑮𐑦𐑓𐑻𐑛 𐑑 𐑩𐑚𐑳𐑝. 𐑰𐑝𐑩𐑯 𐑕𐑩𐑐𐑴𐑟𐑦𐑙 𐑦𐑑 𐑢𐑻 𐑓𐑬𐑯𐑛 𐑦𐑯 𐑐𐑮𐑨𐑒𐑑𐑦𐑕 (𐑯 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑦𐑟 𐑚𐑲 𐑯𐑴 𐑥𐑰𐑯𐑟 𐑐𐑮𐑵𐑝𐑛) 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑑𐑧𐑯𐑛𐑩𐑛 𐑚𐑲 𐑞 𐑯𐑱𐑗𐑼 𐑝 𐑞 𐑕𐑒𐑮𐑦𐑐𐑑 𐑑 𐑓𐑹𐑥 𐑕𐑤𐑲𐑑𐑤𐑦 𐑥𐑹 𐑛𐑦𐑤𐑦𐑚𐑼𐑩𐑑 𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑴𐑒𐑕, 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑢𐑫𐑛 𐑚𐑰 𐑝𐑧𐑮𐑦 𐑥𐑳𐑗 𐑑 𐑞 𐑩𐑛𐑝𐑭𐑯𐑑𐑦𐑡 𐑝 𐑞 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯 𐑮𐑰𐑛𐑼 𐑦𐑯 𐑰𐑟 𐑝 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑲𐑓𐑼𐑦𐑙.

𐑦𐑯 𐑓𐑨𐑒𐑑, 𐑝 𐑒𐑹𐑕, 𐑴𐑝𐑼𐑷𐑤 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑑𐑲𐑥 𐑓 𐑞 𐑦𐑒𐑢𐑦𐑝𐑩𐑤𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑑𐑧𐑒𐑕𐑑 𐑢𐑫𐑛 𐑚𐑰 𐑮𐑦𐑛𐑿𐑕𐑑 (𐑜𐑦𐑝𐑩𐑯 𐑒𐑪𐑥𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑓𐑩𐑥𐑦𐑤𐑦𐑨𐑮𐑩𐑑𐑦 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑞 𐑕𐑒𐑮𐑦𐑐𐑑 𐑯 𐑦𐑑𐑕 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑑𐑧𐑒𐑯𐑰𐑒) 𐑪𐑯 𐑩 𐑯𐑳𐑥𐑚𐑼 𐑝 𐑒𐑬𐑯𐑑𐑕: 𐑓𐑻𐑕𐑑𐑤𐑦, 𐑞 ‘𐑕𐑲𐑤𐑩𐑯𐑑’ 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑝 𐑐𐑮𐑧𐑟𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑮𐑴𐑥𐑩𐑯 𐑢𐑫𐑛 𐑯𐑨𐑗𐑼𐑩𐑤𐑦 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑯 𐑨𐑑 𐑷𐑤—𐑩𐑚𐑬𐑑 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼 𐑦𐑯 𐑕𐑦𐑒𐑕 𐑦𐑟 𐑯𐑬 𐑮𐑦𐑛𐑳𐑯𐑛𐑩𐑯𐑑; 𐑕𐑧𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑛𐑤𐑦, 𐑓𐑿𐑼 𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑴𐑒𐑕 𐑐𐑻 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼 𐑸 𐑿𐑟𐑛 𐑦𐑯 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯, 𐑕𐑴 𐑥𐑹 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑒𐑨𐑯 𐑚𐑰 𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑯 𐑦𐑯 𐑩 𐑜𐑦𐑝𐑩𐑯 𐑑𐑲𐑥, 𐑹 𐑨𐑑 𐑞 𐑥𐑨𐑒𐑕𐑦𐑥𐑩𐑥 𐑕𐑐𐑰𐑛 𐑨𐑑 𐑢𐑦𐑗 𐑩𐑯 𐑦𐑯𐑛𐑦𐑝𐑦𐑡𐑵𐑩𐑤 𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛 𐑒𐑨𐑯 𐑓𐑹𐑥 𐑕𐑩𐑒𐑕𐑧𐑕𐑦𐑝 𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑴𐑒𐑕. 𐑦𐑑 𐑥𐑱 𐑚𐑰 𐑯𐑴𐑑𐑦𐑕𐑑 𐑣𐑬 𐑕𐑦𐑥𐑐𐑩𐑤 𐑸 𐑞 𐑨𐑒𐑗𐑵𐑩𐑤 𐑖𐑱𐑐𐑕 𐑝 𐑞 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟, 𐑩 𐑣𐑲 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑐𐑹𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑝 𐑡𐑳𐑕𐑑 𐑩 𐑕𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑩𐑤 𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑴𐑒, 𐑯 𐑴𐑯𐑤𐑦 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑮𐑦𐑒𐑢𐑲𐑼𐑦𐑙 𐑨𐑟 𐑥𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑨𐑟 𐑑𐑵 𐑛𐑬𐑯-𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑴𐑒𐑕 𐑯 𐑥𐑹 𐑞𐑨𐑯 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑩𐑚𐑮𐑳𐑐𐑑 𐑗𐑱𐑯𐑡 𐑝 𐑛𐑲𐑮𐑧𐑒𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑝 𐑐𐑧𐑯 𐑪𐑯 𐑐𐑱𐑐𐑼. 𐑔𐑻𐑛𐑤𐑦, 𐑥𐑳𐑗 𐑩𐑑𐑧𐑯𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑣𐑨𐑟 𐑚𐑰𐑯 𐑜𐑦𐑝𐑩𐑯 𐑑 𐑞 𐑨𐑤𐑩𐑒𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑝 𐑞 𐑕𐑦𐑥𐑐𐑤𐑩𐑕𐑑 𐑩𐑝𐑱𐑤𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑖𐑱𐑐𐑕 𐑑 𐑞 𐑥𐑴𐑕𐑑 𐑓𐑮𐑰𐑒𐑢𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑤𐑦 𐑩𐑒𐑻𐑦𐑙 𐑕𐑬𐑯𐑛𐑟. 𐑓𐑹𐑔𐑤𐑦, 𐑕𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑩𐑤-𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼 𐑩𐑚𐑮𐑰𐑝𐑦𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑓 𐑞 𐑓𐑹 𐑒𐑪𐑥𐑩𐑯𐑩𐑕𐑑 𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑤𐑦𐑖 𐑢𐑻𐑛𐑟 (𐑞 [the], 𐑝 [of], 𐑯 [and], 𐑑 [to]) 𐑸 𐑕𐑑𐑨𐑯𐑛𐑼𐑛 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯—𐑯 𐑩 𐑯𐑳𐑥𐑚𐑼 𐑝 𐑳𐑞𐑼 𐑢𐑻𐑛-𐑕𐑲𐑯𐑟 𐑹 𐑮𐑦𐑛𐑿𐑕𐑑 𐑓𐑹𐑥𐑟 𐑥𐑱 𐑢𐑧𐑤 𐑚𐑰 𐑿𐑟𐑛 𐑚𐑦𐑕𐑲𐑛𐑟.

𐑱𐑑 𐑝 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑖𐑹𐑑𐑕 𐑖𐑴𐑯 𐑦𐑯 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑕𐑦𐑥𐑩𐑯 2 𐑸 𐑦𐑯 𐑓𐑨𐑒𐑑 𐑒𐑪𐑥𐑐𐑬𐑯𐑛𐑟, 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑦𐑟, 𐑤𐑦𐑜𐑩𐑗𐑼𐑟, 𐑕𐑦𐑒𐑕 𐑝 𐑞𐑰𐑟 𐑚𐑰𐑦𐑙 𐑝𐑬𐑩𐑤 + R 𐑦𐑯 𐑕𐑳𐑥 𐑒𐑪𐑥𐑩𐑯𐑤𐑦 𐑩𐑒𐑻𐑦𐑙 𐑒𐑱𐑕𐑩𐑟, 𐑦𐑯𐑒𐑤𐑵𐑛𐑦𐑙 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑝𐑬𐑩𐑤 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑦𐑟 𐑦𐑑𐑕𐑧𐑤𐑓 𐑷𐑤𐑮𐑧𐑛𐑦 𐑥𐑱𐑛 𐑳𐑐 𐑝 𐑩 𐑒𐑪𐑥𐑚𐑦𐑯𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑝 𐑑𐑵 𐑳𐑞𐑼𐑟. 𐑞𐑰𐑟 𐑒𐑪𐑥𐑐𐑬𐑯𐑛𐑟 𐑸 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑯 𐑢𐑧𐑞𐑼 𐑹 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑞𐑱 𐑚𐑰 𐑦𐑯𐑛𐑦𐑒𐑩𐑑𐑦𐑝 𐑝 𐑩𐑯 𐑦𐑯𐑛𐑦𐑝𐑦𐑡𐑵𐑩𐑤 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑹 𐑕𐑐𐑰𐑒𐑼𐑟 𐑿𐑕 𐑝 r 𐑨𐑟 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑦𐑚𐑿𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑦𐑯 𐑣𐑦𐑟 𐑯𐑨𐑗𐑼𐑩𐑤 𐑕𐑐𐑰𐑗, 𐑞𐑳𐑕 𐑦𐑯𐑱𐑚𐑤𐑦𐑙 𐑞 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑤𐑦𐑙𐑟 𐑿𐑟𐑛 𐑚𐑲 𐑤𐑳𐑯𐑛𐑩𐑯𐑼𐑟, 𐑕𐑒𐑪𐑑𐑕, 𐑩𐑥𐑧𐑮𐑦𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑟, 𐑯𐑯𐑯., 𐑑 𐑮𐑦𐑟𐑧𐑥𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑢𐑳𐑯 𐑩𐑯𐑳𐑞𐑼 𐑦𐑯 𐑮𐑦𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑒𐑑 𐑝 R—𐑨𐑟 𐑞𐑱 𐑛𐑵 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑕𐑑𐑨𐑯𐑛𐑼𐑛 𐑹𐑔𐑪𐑜𐑮𐑩𐑓𐑦 𐑑𐑩𐑛𐑱. 𐑨𐑟 𐑑 𐑢𐑧𐑞𐑼 𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑷𐑤𐑑𐑻𐑯𐑩𐑑𐑦𐑝 𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑤𐑦𐑙𐑟 𐑢𐑫𐑛 𐑚𐑰 𐑩𐑝𐑱𐑤𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑑 𐑕𐑐𐑰𐑒𐑼𐑟 𐑝 𐑛𐑦𐑓𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑒𐑲𐑯𐑛𐑟 𐑝 𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑤𐑦𐑖 (𐑦𐑯𐑝𐑪𐑤𐑝𐑦𐑙 𐑛𐑦𐑓𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑮𐑦𐑚𐑿𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑝 𐑞𐑺 𐑕𐑬𐑯𐑛𐑟), 𐑞 𐑭𐑯𐑕𐑼 𐑦𐑟 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑞𐑱 𐑢𐑫𐑛, 𐑚𐑳𐑑 𐑲 𐑢𐑦𐑤 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑣𐑽 𐑩𐑑𐑧𐑥𐑐𐑑 𐑑 𐑜𐑴 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑵 𐑛𐑰𐑑𐑱𐑤𐑟, 𐑯 𐑢𐑦𐑤 𐑴𐑯𐑤𐑦 𐑕𐑱 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑦𐑑 𐑢𐑫𐑛 𐑒𐑤𐑽𐑤𐑦 𐑚𐑰 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑮𐑩𐑕𐑑 𐑝 𐑩 𐑯𐑿 𐑢𐑻𐑤𐑛 𐑹𐑔𐑪𐑜𐑮𐑩𐑓𐑦 𐑓 𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑤𐑦𐑖 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑝𐑺𐑦𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑚𐑦𐑑𐑢𐑰𐑯 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑼 𐑯 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑼 𐑖𐑫𐑛 𐑚𐑰 𐑒𐑧𐑐𐑑 𐑑 𐑩 𐑥𐑦𐑯𐑦𐑥𐑩𐑥. 𐑞 𐑑𐑵 𐑮𐑦𐑥𐑱𐑯𐑦𐑙 𐑒𐑪𐑥𐑐𐑬𐑯𐑛 𐑕𐑹𐑑𐑕 𐑸 𐑤𐑦𐑜𐑩𐑗𐑼𐑟 𐑝 𐑑𐑵 𐑳𐑞𐑼 𐑡𐑳𐑒𐑕𐑑𐑩𐑐𐑴𐑟𐑛 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟, 𐑢𐑦𐑗, 𐑨𐑟 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑞 𐑝𐑬𐑩𐑤 + R 𐑤𐑦𐑜𐑩𐑗𐑼𐑟, 𐑥𐑱 𐑚𐑰 𐑤𐑫𐑒𐑑 𐑩𐑐𐑪𐑯 𐑨𐑟 𐑦𐑯𐑕𐑑𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑩𐑟 𐑦𐑯 𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑯𐑑 𐑝 𐑞 𐑐𐑼𐑥𐑦𐑕𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑰𐑟𐑦 𐑤𐑦𐑙𐑒𐑦𐑙 𐑝 𐑣𐑨𐑯𐑛𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑩𐑯 𐑓𐑹𐑥𐑟 𐑮𐑦𐑓𐑻𐑛 𐑑 𐑩𐑚𐑳𐑝. 𐑣𐑬𐑧𐑝𐑼, 𐑪𐑯 𐑞 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯 𐑑𐑲𐑐𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑼 𐑒𐑰𐑚𐑹𐑛 (𐑢𐑦𐑗 𐑦𐑟 𐑯𐑬 𐑩𐑝𐑱𐑤𐑩𐑚𐑩𐑤 𐑑 𐑞 𐑐𐑳𐑚𐑤𐑦𐑒) 𐑞𐑰𐑟 𐑤𐑦𐑜𐑩𐑗𐑼𐑛 𐑓𐑹𐑥𐑟 𐑸 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑓𐑬𐑯𐑛 𐑰𐑗 𐑪𐑯 𐑞𐑺 𐑴𐑯 𐑒𐑰, 𐑚𐑳𐑑 𐑸 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑑𐑲𐑐𐑑 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑞 𐑕𐑧𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑑 𐑒𐑰𐑟 𐑓 𐑞 𐑑𐑵 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑻𐑯𐑛. 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑦𐑟 𐑐𐑸𐑑𐑤𐑦 𐑑 𐑦𐑒𐑪𐑯𐑩𐑥𐑲𐑟 𐑒𐑰𐑟, 𐑚𐑳𐑑 𐑷𐑤𐑕𐑴 𐑚𐑦𐑒𐑪𐑟 𐑩 𐑒𐑤𐑴𐑕𐑼 𐑩𐑐𐑮𐑪𐑒𐑕𐑦𐑥𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯 𐑑 𐑰𐑒𐑢𐑩𐑤 𐑢𐑦𐑛𐑔 𐑝 𐑷𐑤 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟, 𐑪𐑯 𐑞 𐑰𐑒𐑢𐑩𐑤-𐑕𐑐𐑱𐑕 𐑑𐑲𐑐𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑼, 𐑜𐑦𐑝𐑟 𐑩 𐑚𐑧𐑑𐑼 𐑩𐑐𐑽𐑩𐑯𐑕 𐑑 𐑞 𐑐𐑱𐑡 𐑝 𐑑𐑲𐑐𐑕𐑒𐑮𐑦𐑐𐑑 𐑞𐑨𐑯 𐑢𐑫𐑛 𐑳𐑞𐑼𐑢𐑲𐑟 𐑚𐑰 𐑞 𐑒𐑱𐑕. 𐑒𐑪𐑐𐑦𐑟 𐑝 ·𐑖𐑷-𐑕𐑒𐑮𐑦𐑐𐑑, 𐑞 𐑒𐑢𐑹𐑑𐑼𐑤𐑦 𐑐𐑽𐑦𐑪𐑛𐑦𐑒𐑩𐑤 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑲𐑼𐑤𐑦 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑛𐑿𐑕𐑑 𐑦𐑯 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯, 𐑓𐑮𐑪𐑥 𐑞 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯 𐑑𐑲𐑐𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑼 𐑒𐑰𐑚𐑹𐑛, 𐑥𐑱 𐑚𐑰 𐑦𐑯𐑕𐑐𐑧𐑒𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑦𐑯 𐑹𐑛𐑼 𐑑 𐑡𐑳𐑡 𐑞 𐑦𐑓𐑧𐑒𐑑.

𐑓𐑻𐑞𐑼 𐑕𐑑𐑳𐑛𐑦 𐑝 𐑞 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑 𐑯 𐑝 𐑞 𐑮𐑦𐑤𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑖𐑦𐑐 𐑝 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼𐑟 𐑑 𐑞 𐑕𐑬𐑯𐑛𐑟 𐑞𐑱 𐑕𐑑𐑨𐑯𐑛 𐑓 𐑢𐑦𐑤 𐑥𐑱𐑒 𐑦𐑑 𐑐𐑤𐑱𐑯 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑦𐑟 𐑩 𐑒𐑴𐑣𐑽𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑕𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑩𐑥, 𐑪𐑯 𐑩 𐑒𐑺𐑓𐑩𐑤𐑦 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑦𐑛𐑼𐑛 𐑐𐑤𐑨𐑯 𐑦𐑥𐑚𐑪𐑛𐑦𐑦𐑙 𐑥𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑛𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑙𐑒𐑑 (𐑯 𐑕𐑳𐑥𐑑𐑲𐑥𐑟 𐑥𐑿𐑗𐑵𐑩𐑤𐑦 𐑒𐑪𐑯𐑓𐑤𐑦𐑒𐑑𐑦𐑙) 𐑐𐑶𐑯𐑑𐑕, 𐑢𐑦𐑗 𐑣𐑨𐑟 𐑨𐑑 𐑑𐑲𐑥𐑟 𐑚𐑰𐑯 𐑩𐑚𐑤𐑲𐑡𐑛 𐑚𐑲 𐑞 𐑯𐑱𐑗𐑼 𐑝 𐑞 𐑒𐑱𐑕 𐑑 𐑒𐑪𐑥𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑥𐑲𐑟, 𐑞𐑴 𐑢𐑦𐑞𐑬𐑑, 𐑲 𐑚𐑦𐑤𐑰𐑝, 𐑩𐑚𐑨𐑯𐑛𐑩𐑯𐑦𐑙 𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑦𐑥𐑐𐑹𐑑𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑔𐑽𐑧𐑑𐑦𐑒𐑩𐑤 𐑐𐑮𐑦𐑯𐑕𐑦𐑐𐑩𐑤 𐑹 𐑳𐑐𐑕𐑧𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑞 𐑣𐑸𐑥𐑴𐑯𐑾𐑕 𐑢𐑻𐑒𐑦𐑙 𐑹 𐑩𐑐𐑽𐑩𐑯𐑕 𐑝 𐑞 𐑣𐑴𐑤. 𐑦𐑑 𐑢𐑦𐑤 𐑚𐑦𐑒𐑳𐑥 𐑩𐑐𐑨𐑮𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑞𐑨𐑑 𐑞𐑺 𐑸 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼 𐑖𐑱𐑐𐑕 𐑥𐑧𐑯𐑦 𐑝𐑦𐑠𐑵𐑩𐑤 𐑐𐑨𐑮𐑩𐑤𐑧𐑤𐑟 𐑑 𐑞 𐑓𐑩𐑯𐑧𐑑𐑦𐑒 𐑹 𐑳𐑞𐑼 𐑮𐑦𐑤𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑖𐑦𐑐𐑕 𐑚𐑦𐑑𐑢𐑰𐑯 𐑕𐑬𐑯𐑛𐑟: 𐑞𐑳𐑕, 𐑓 𐑦𐑯𐑕𐑑𐑩𐑯𐑕, 𐑷𐑤 𐑝𐑬𐑩𐑤𐑟 𐑸 𐑖𐑹𐑑𐑕; 𐑕𐑦𐑒𐑕𐑑𐑰𐑯 𐑒𐑪𐑯𐑕𐑩𐑯𐑩𐑯𐑑𐑕 𐑸 𐑐𐑺𐑛 𐑪𐑯 𐑩 𐑝𐑶𐑕𐑑|𐑝𐑶𐑕𐑤𐑩𐑕 𐑚𐑱𐑕𐑦𐑕 𐑢𐑺 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑒𐑪𐑯𐑑𐑮𐑭𐑕𐑑 𐑓𐑳𐑙𐑒𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑟 𐑢𐑦𐑞𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑤𐑨𐑙𐑜𐑢𐑦𐑡, 𐑞 𐑝𐑶𐑕𐑑 𐑛𐑰𐑐 𐑤𐑧𐑑𐑼 𐑚𐑰𐑦𐑙 𐑞 𐑑𐑻𐑯𐑛 𐑒𐑬𐑯𐑑𐑼𐑐𐑸𐑑 𐑝 𐑞 𐑝𐑶𐑕𐑤𐑩𐑕 𐑑𐑷𐑤 𐑦𐑯 𐑰𐑗 𐑒𐑱𐑕; 𐑞 𐑓𐑹 𐑳𐑞𐑼 𐑐𐑺𐑟, 𐑕𐑦𐑥𐑩𐑤𐑼𐑤𐑦 𐑮𐑦𐑤𐑱𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑝𐑦𐑠𐑵𐑩𐑤𐑦, 𐑮𐑦𐑒𐑹𐑛 𐑳𐑞𐑼 𐑑𐑲𐑐𐑕 𐑝 𐑮𐑦𐑤𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑖𐑦𐑐.

𐑦𐑯 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑒𐑤𐑵𐑠𐑩𐑯, 𐑲 𐑛𐑵 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑓𐑰𐑤 𐑦𐑑 𐑦𐑯𐑒𐑳𐑥𐑚𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑩𐑐𐑪𐑯 𐑥𐑰 𐑑 𐑦𐑯𐑤𐑸𐑡 𐑩𐑐𐑪𐑯 𐑞 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑡𐑧𐑒𐑗𐑼𐑩𐑤 𐑓𐑿𐑗𐑼 𐑝 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯: 𐑥𐑲 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑮𐑩𐑕𐑑 𐑦𐑯 𐑦𐑑 𐑣𐑨𐑟 𐑚𐑰𐑯 𐑤𐑸𐑡𐑤𐑦 𐑐𐑮𐑩𐑓𐑧𐑖𐑩𐑯𐑩𐑤, 𐑚𐑳𐑑 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑮𐑩𐑕𐑑 𐑦𐑟 𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑤 𐑝𐑧𐑮𐑦 𐑥𐑳𐑗 𐑩𐑤𐑲𐑝. 𐑨𐑑 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑥𐑴𐑥𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑲 𐑨𐑥 𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑻𐑯𐑛 𐑢𐑦𐑞 𐑞 𐑕𐑑𐑩𐑑𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑒𐑩𐑤 𐑧𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑥𐑩𐑑, 𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑐𐑘𐑩𐑤𐑱𐑑𐑩𐑛 𐑦𐑯 ·𐑖𐑷𐑟 𐑢𐑦𐑤, 𐑝 𐑞 𐑯𐑳𐑥𐑚𐑼 𐑝 𐑐𐑰𐑐𐑩𐑤 𐑮𐑲𐑑𐑦𐑙 𐑦𐑙𐑜𐑤𐑦𐑖 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑢𐑻𐑤𐑛 𐑑𐑩𐑛𐑱, 𐑪𐑯 𐑢𐑦𐑗 𐑦𐑑 𐑦𐑟 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑧𐑯𐑛𐑩𐑛 𐑑 𐑚𐑱𐑕 𐑩𐑯 𐑧𐑕𐑑𐑦𐑥𐑩𐑑 𐑝 𐑞 𐑰𐑒𐑩𐑯𐑪𐑥𐑦𐑒 𐑕𐑱𐑝𐑦𐑙𐑟 𐑑 𐑚𐑰 𐑩𐑗𐑰𐑝𐑛 𐑚𐑲 𐑦𐑑𐑕 𐑿𐑕. 𐑢𐑧𐑯 𐑞𐑦𐑕 𐑢𐑻𐑒 𐑣𐑨𐑟 𐑚𐑰𐑯 𐑒𐑩𐑥𐑐𐑤𐑰𐑑𐑩𐑛, 𐑯 𐑐𐑼𐑣𐑨𐑐𐑕 𐑕𐑳𐑥 𐑮𐑦𐑐𐑹𐑑 𐑪𐑯 𐑦𐑑 𐑥𐑱𐑛 𐑐𐑳𐑚𐑤𐑦𐑒, 𐑞 𐑤𐑭𐑕𐑑 𐑢𐑦𐑖𐑩𐑟 𐑝 𐑞 𐑤𐑱𐑑 ·𐑡𐑹𐑡 𐑚𐑻𐑯𐑼𐑛 𐑖𐑷 𐑢𐑦𐑤 𐑣𐑨𐑝 𐑚𐑰𐑯 𐑓𐑫𐑤𐑦 𐑒𐑨𐑮𐑦𐑛 𐑬𐑑. 𐑢𐑧𐑞𐑼 𐑹 𐑯𐑪𐑑 𐑞 𐑖𐑱𐑝𐑾𐑯 𐑨𐑤𐑓𐑩𐑚𐑧𐑑 𐑚𐑦𐑒𐑳𐑥𐑟 𐑥𐑹 𐑢𐑲𐑛𐑤𐑦 𐑯𐑴𐑯 𐑹 𐑦𐑝𐑧𐑯𐑗𐑵𐑩𐑤𐑦 𐑩𐑛𐑪𐑐𐑑𐑩𐑛 (𐑹 𐑕𐑳𐑥𐑔𐑦𐑙 𐑤𐑲𐑒 𐑦𐑑) 𐑛𐑦𐑐𐑧𐑯𐑛𐑟 𐑪𐑯 𐑦𐑑𐑕 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑮𐑦𐑯𐑟𐑦𐑒 𐑥𐑧𐑮𐑦𐑑𐑕 𐑯 𐑪𐑯 𐑞 𐑦𐑒𐑕𐑑𐑧𐑯𐑑 𐑑 𐑢𐑦𐑗 𐑞 𐑐𐑻𐑐𐑩𐑕 𐑦𐑑 𐑦𐑟 𐑦𐑯𐑑𐑧𐑯𐑛𐑩𐑛 𐑑 𐑕𐑻𐑝 𐑒𐑦𐑯𐑛𐑩𐑤𐑟 𐑩 𐑕𐑐𐑸𐑒 𐑦𐑯 𐑞 𐑥𐑲𐑯𐑛𐑟 𐑝 𐑞 𐑐𐑮𐑧𐑟𐑩𐑯𐑑 𐑹 𐑝 𐑕𐑳𐑥 𐑓𐑿𐑗𐑼 𐑡𐑧𐑯𐑼𐑱𐑖𐑩𐑯.

The Bernard Shaw Alphabet

by P. A. D. MacCarthy

[extracted from Haas, W., Alphabets for English, Manchester University Press (1969)]

The Bernard Shaw Alphabet (or Shavian, as it has come to be called), represents an attempt to alter the mode of writing English—and ultimately perhaps any language—that is almost diametrically opposed to all the proposals for spelling reform (in its widest sense) that have been discussed up till the present in this series,—in particular the complete oppo­site of the system called New Spelling that I myself spoke about here not so long ago.

New Spelling—let me remind you—involved (1) retaining the traditional roman alphabet intact (apart from the elimina­tion or non-use of a couple of redundant letters); (2) the rearrangement of the roman letters to the best advantage—fairly ruthlessly from the standpoint of the present-day user, yet disturbing current spellings as little as possible consistent with a thoroughgoing, systematic reform—; and (3) the liberal use of combinations of two letters to stand for single sounds, this being a necessary evil resulting from the deficiency in number of roman letters for writing any language having more than 26 distinctive sounds.

Both the other previous speakers in this series also put forward schemes based upon the roman alphabet:—Dr. Wijk's proposals ('Regularized English') involved even less departure from traditional usage than does New Spelling—they would leave the great bulk of current spellings intact. Sir James Pitman's Initial Teaching Alphabet, conceived as a method for speeding the process of learning to read, makes concessions to present spelling with the express aim of facilitating the transition back to it (once the reading skill as such has been acquired). Pitman's i.t.a. is, apart from that, based evidently on New Spelling, but, in addition, employs a number of newly-designed ligatured forms, resulting in most cases in strictly non-roman shapes (thus avoiding the New Spelling device of juxtaposing two familiar letters to form digraphs).

Now Shavian is different in kind from all of the foregoing: Shavian is a new alphabet. No one could read Shavian at sight simply for having learnt to read roman. Before one can read Shavian the value of each of the completely new symbols has to be learnt, and before reading from Shavian fluently the skill of scanning and interpreting the sequences of those symbols, and of recognizing the shapes of whole words from previous familiarity with those shapes, has to be acquired over a period of time. Shavian therefore represents a radical departure from tradition (though there have of course been other proposed radical departures in the past), and I should like first to deal with the motivation in the mind of its inspirer, George Bernard Shaw, so that we may more clearly understand what he was trying to bring about, and why.

As a professional writer, Shaw was struck by the wastage involved in English spelling: the waste of time spent writing by hand many silent or redundant letters (Shaw himself always wrote in Pitman's Shorthand); the waste of materials (paper, ink, etc.) used in writing those letters; the waste of time spent by every child learning to spell English words with their inconsistencies and irregularities, time spent by every teacher of children, and by every foreign learner, and teacher, of English anywhere in the world. He campaigned frequently and vigorously during his lifetime to draw people's attention to the significance of this state of affairs, and to break down their apathetic conservatism, if not their championing adherence to what he termed 'Johnsonese', for he ascribed (no doubt correctly) the standardization of our present spelling largely to the publication and subsequent wide use of Dr. Johnson's Dictionary.

Realizing that there were in any case not enough roman letters to go round, he set himself firmly against any attempt at rearrangement of those letters (this is what he called 'spelling reform'), and he had additional reasons for so doing: the impression of near-illiteracy that he claimed was made on educated people by rearranged, 'phonetic' spellings, and the likelihood that such spellings might have undesirable, possibly obscene, associations.

Towards the end of his life this campaign seems to have been intensified, in long letters to The Times newspaper and elsewhere, since he had formed the idea of leaving his fortune to promote a new alphabet; but many years before, in his Preface to Pygmalion—a play whose principal theme was the pronunciation of English—we find him alluding to English in its written form. I quote: 'The English have no respect for their language, and will not teach their children to speak it. They cannot write it, because they have nothing to write it with but an old foreign alphabet of which only the consonants, and not all of them, have any agreed speech value'.

I mentioned a moment ago that Shaw always wrote his works using Pitman's Shorthand (his secretary then trans­cribed this into longhand for revision, and the printer). It might perhaps be thought that here surely was the answer to Shaw's quest for a new script for English, in other words that a system of shorthand (not necessarily Pitman's) would achieve the economy—at least of time—that was wanted. But this is far from being the case. In the first place, the all-purpose utility of an orthography cannot be achieved by any system of writing based upon hand movements and designed with considerations of sheer speed primarily— almost exclusively—in mind. Technical problems arising for the printer would alone rule out sequences of shorthand strokes where individual letters have no separate identity.

It is notable that existing scripts based on a cursive style, such as Arabic, lend themselves extremely awkwardly to handling by the modern technologies of printing and typing, designed for handling separate, discrete letter shapes. Because the majority of Arabic letters have to be joined to a following one in the same word (a few may not be so joined), the typewriter and printing press are required to simulate this joining up of successive letters, by bringing the final stroke of one letter and the beginning stroke of the following one extremely close together, so that they appear to touch. And because no overlapping of forms can be obtained from mechanical devices that move forward a notch at a time for a letter of whatever shape to be placed in the given space, awkward distortions of letters are unavoidable, and there is a wastefully high proportion of white space to black letter on the printed page, particularly since the large number of essential diacritical dots above and below each line of writing makes it necessary to set successive lines a considerable distance apart in the interests of legibility. Shorthand too is notoriously wasteful of space, the spidery outlines having a vertical as well as a horizontal sprawl. Yet further objections to a shorthand can be made: that it tends to become illegible to all save the writer, and even to him or (more often) her after any lapse of time before the eventual intended retranscription into longhand; that the sought-after speed itself is not attained without such drastic abbreviations and omissions that ambiguities constantly arise or illegibility even results.

Shaw himself realized the fundamental unsuitability of a shorthand as an orthography, though he did on one occasion (Preface to The Miraculous Birth of Language by R. A. Wilson) hold up, as a model of what could be done, Henry Sweet's Current Shorthand. He went on to point out that the basic strokes devised by Sweet would have suited very well, if only Sweet had not himself gone on to complicate and bedevil matters by seeking to make his system suitable for verbatim reporting, with its inevitable contractions and innumerable conventions. (It is, however, interesting to realize that it was Shaw's racy description of Sweet's Current Shorthand contained in the above Preface—"A straight line, written with a single stroke of the pen, can represent four different consonants by varying its length and position. Put a hook at the top of it, and you have four more consonants. Put a hook at the lower end, and . . . etc."—that provided the inspiration for the designer of what was eventually to become the "Shavian" of today, as it may well have done also for many of the other competitors in the Bernard Shaw Alphabet Competition. But I anticipate.)

The events following upon Shaw's death in 1950 must be fairly well known to Shaw-lovers and spelling reformers alike, so I think I need only summarize them here, and recall how Shaw, in his Will, appointed the Public Trustee to be his executor and trustee, and imposed on him the duty of seeking and publishing an alphabet of at least forty letters, more efficient than the existing one of twenty-six letters, so as to enable 'the said language (English) to be written without indicating single sounds by groups of letters or by diacritical marks'; this alphabet he termed 'Proposed British Alpha­bet'; how Shaw's residuary estate was directed by him to be held for a period in certain trusts for this purpose, but this was declared by a Judge of the High Court to be invalid in law. The Public Trustee appealed from the decision, and by way of compromise the residuary legatees (the British Museum, the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art, and the National Gallery of Ireland) eventually agreed to pay a certain sum to the Public Trustee for the promotion of this project of a new alphabet. It was indeed a modest sum in relation to Shaw's estate as a whole at that time, and much more so since that estate began to be augmented by the massive royalties that have been coming in since the appear­ance of My Fair Lady. However, it was the best that could be managed—and it has been instrumental in the creation of Shavian. Not until 1957 were all the legal complications out of the way, and the field cleared for the Public Trustee to inaugurate the Alphabet Competition by offering a prize of £500 for the best design of a new alphabet complying with the provisions of Shaw's Will.

Technical advice was available to the Public Trustee from a panel of three outside specialists, who also acted as judges for the Competition. As one of those judges I had the interesting experience of examining each of the 467 entries that came in during 1958. By the end of the following year the work of judging was completed, and the Public Trustee announced that the prize money would be divided equally between four competitors, none of whom had submitted a design outstanding enough to be accepted as it stood, i.e. to be the 'Proposed British Alphabet', for use in the subsequent transliteration of Shaw's play Androcles and the Lion, as stipulated in his Will.

Now, clearly, that transliteration could not possibly be made until there was an alphabet to transliterate into. So a problem still remained. This the Public Trustee sought to resolve by inviting the four prizewinners to work further on their designs with a view to arriving at the best possible solution. This did not mean (as on the surface might have appeared to be the case) that the best features of each en­trant's work could be extracted and somehow fused into the ideal alphabet: a glance at the individual entries would be sufficient to make it plain that the basic conceptions of each were so utterly different that a combination of any features drawn from more than one of them could only have created a hotch-potch that would have been unsatisfactory from practically every point of view, could not possibly have produced an aesthetically pleasing and harmonious whole, and would have been almost certainly inferior to each of the prizewinning entries considered separately. What in fact happened was that each of the prizewinners was encouraged to do further work on his submitted design in the light of criticism and comments by the judges. I was asked to conduct any ensuing correspondence, and to begin by letting each entrant know what we thought in detail of his entry. Now we, in the course of our judging, had had the opportunity (and, I must say for myself, the extremely interesting experience) not only of inspecting several hundred newly-designed original alphabets, but of forming each his own opinion, and our joint opinions, based on the experience so gained as to the basic criteria for a script suitable for the transliteration—the minimum requirements, as it were, that any proposed alphabet should conform to for complete acceptability. Just because no individual competitor had met all these demands, the prize-money had not been awarded to one outstandingly successful design.

The response of the four competitors was varied; one dropped out immediately and took no further part in the proceedings; one submitted several completely fresh designs in a short space of time; one entered into very full discus­sion with me, in the light of which he set about modifying his design. This last was Mr. Kingsley Read, whose final re-cast version was eventually re-submitted to all the judges and approved for use in the transliteration, thus becoming 'Shavian', the Bernard Shaw Alphabet. The extent of the re-casting may be judged from the fact that only about ten characters out of the total of 48 reappeared unchanged, and of these not more than two or three retain their original value, i.e. stand for the sound they stood for previously. Yet the overall appearance of the design is so similar as to be un­mistakably the work of the same hand, and quite unlike all other entries. It may be of interest if I mention the main feature in Mr. Read's competition entry that the judges considered unsatisfactory and that he later eliminated success­fully: it was that certain letter shapes were used unchanged for different sounds except for being placed in different positions in relation to other letters; for instance a given shape might be placed high in relation to the line of writing to stand for one sound, and the same shape placed low in relation to the line to stand for some other sound. This would mean, of course, that the form itself could never be interpreted unambiguously in isolation, i.e. without other letters or at least some essential guide line or rule from which to judge its relative position. When this disadvantage was brought to the designer's attention, he found himself in­volved in the radical re-casting described above, but even­tually came up with the masterly solution we see today.

In executing the transliteration, I had a number of deci­sions of my own to make, notably as to the treatment of the letter R, the representation of syllabic consonants, of strong and weak forms, and of course the spelling of a number of doubtful words. This included the problem of many words having acceptable alternative pronunciations, even without going outside the general type of English that Shaw himself had stipulated, namely that spoken by His Majesty King George V. This the judges were able to interpret as indi­cating a pronunciation widely known to linguists and phone­ticians as RP. I decided too that though Americans might favour a certain number of spelling differences, to fit better their own distribution of sounds (their, or anyone's, different manner of pronouncing English sounds as such being irrelevant to the orthography), nevertheless the proper way to tran­scribe this, the first publication in Shavian, emanating from Britain and moreover conforming to Shaw's prescription, was to transliterate the words in accordance with the conventions of the new system and in line generally with the pronunci­ations likely to be heard on the English stage.

Here now is a specimen of Shavian printing—the second part of the Gettysburg Address by Abraham Lincoln. There follow reproductions of the two sides of the card in­serted in each copy of Androcles and the Lion, Shaw Alphabet Edition, (Penguin Books Ltd.), on which appear classified lists of the Shavian letters, with keywords that serve also as the actual names of those letters, by the help of which the connected text may be deciphered. Alternatively, the New Spelling version of the Address (p. 118) may be consulted for this purpose.

gettysburg address

Let me draw your attention to some of the salient features of the script.

Shavian is written, and read, from left to right across the page or other writing surface, in lines which run from top to bottom of the page—just as they do in current roman usage. There is of course nothing inevitable or universal about our present way of doing these things,—and a certain number of the competition entries did propose a departure from tradition in this very matter; nevertheless the winning entry un­doubtedly commended itself to the judges on the grounds (among many others) that in it, established practice as to the direction of the writing was to be retained.

A line of writing consists of a sequence of separate letter shapes (apart from ligatured forms, see below), and these are grouped by words, i.e. with a blank space to mark off word division. In this respect too, as also in matters of punctu­ation generally, current usage remains unaltered.

Letters are of three sizes in the vertical dimension:— Shorts, corresponding to lower-case sorts of x—or ribbon— height; Tails, that ascend above the ribbon while standing on the same base; and Deeps, that fall from the top level of the ribbon to below its base. In other words, here again there is little departure from the present state of affairs in printed roman (some cursive roman forms, e.g. handwritten f may both ascend and descend from the ribbon). The proportion of ascenders and descenders to x-height letters has been arranged to be about the same as in roman, but ascenders and descenders are more equally distributed than now as between one another (there being in roman about six times as many ascending letters as descending letters on the printed page). These changes have been intentionally introduced in the knowledge that in normal rapid reading, words are recognized as wholes, and that it is visible differ­ences in the external outline or silhouette of words that are mainly instrumental in enabling the eye rapidly to dis­criminate between different words and so to grasp their meaning. Long sequences of x-height letters tend of course towards uniformity of both top and bottom outline, but sequences of letters standing on the base of the ribbon, i.e. those of x-height together with those having ascenders, (which would produce uniformity of the bottom outline) are as a result of this alteration less likely to occur in Shavian than in roman. It may however be noted that the Shavian Tails and Deeps do not depend for identification solely on the fact of their having ascenders and descenders respectively: they are already adequately differentiated by their intrinsic shapes. So it would be perfectly feasible, and might well be found desirable for certain purposes, e.g. display work, to use founts of letters all of one size—there being in any case no capitals.

This brings me to the first point to be mentioned thus far, embodying a notable divergence from current roman usage (aside, that is, from the forms and general appearance of the Shavian letters themselves); there is to be no difference of shape (or size or thickness, though these would be optional) between initial and other letters, thus eliminating one of the major objections to current roman usage: the fact that the 26 letters have so many alternative shapes—for capitals and lower-case, not to mention cursive forms. To meet the occasional need for an equivalent to capitalization, a raised 'namer' dot is available in Shavian, e.g. for proper names, at least at their first occurrence in a text, or where obscurity might otherwise result.

As regards handwritten Shavian, the letters have deliber­ately been designed so as to discourage the cursive writing of linking strokes not forming part of a letter, thus eliminating a source of much ambiguity and illegibility in connected writing. If adjacent letters lend themselves to joining with­out extra linking strokes, they may well be joined (as the printed Shavian ligatures are joined), but not otherwise, the inevitable upward movements of the hand between letters being made off the writing surface (i.e. in the air) instead of in contact with it, with, it is believed, little if any overall slowing down of hand movements, once the somewhat different technique of writing has been acquired. Moreover much thought was devoted to ensuring that the actual shapes chosen for letters should, in the interest of legibility, not lend themselves to confusion with one another when written at speed, or to distortion from their basic shape, leading in the long run to divergences arising between printed (or typed) and handwritten forms—which is of course what has happened in roman, thus giving rise to the multiplicity of forms referred to above. Even supposing it were found in practice (and this is by no means proved) that writers tended by the nature of the script to form slightly more deliberate strokes, this would be very much to the advantage of the Shavian reader in ease of deciphering.

In fact, of course, overall writing time for the equivalent text would be reduced (given comparable familiarity with the script and its writing technique) on a number of counts: firstly, the 'silent' letters of present roman would naturally not be written at all—about one letter in six is now redun­dant; secondly, fewer strokes per letter are used in Shavian, so more letters can be written in a given time, or at the maximum speed at which an individual hand can form successive strokes. It may be noticed how simple are the actual shapes of the letters, a high proportion consisting of just a single stroke, and only one requiring as many as two down-strokes and more than one abrupt change of direction of pen on paper. Thirdly, much attention has been given to the allocation of the simplest available shapes to the most frequently occurring sounds. Fourthly, single-letter abbrevi­ation for the four commonest English words (the, of, and, to) are standard Shavian—and a number of other word-signs or reduced forms may well be used besides.

Eight of the printer's shorts shown in Specimen 2 are in fact compounds, i.e. ligatures, six of these being vowel + r in some commonly occurring cases, including one vowel that is itself already made up of a combination of two others. These compounds are to be written whether or not they be indicative of an individual writer's or speaker's use of r as distributed in his natural speech, thus enabling the Shavian spellings used by Londoners, Scots, Americans, etc., to resemble one another in respect of r—as they do in the standard orthography today. As to whether any alternative spellings would be available to speakers of different kinds of English (involving different distribution of their sounds), the answer is that they would, but I will not here attempt to go into details, and will only say that it would clearly be in the interest of a new world orthography for English that variation between writer and writer should be kept to a minimum. The two remaining compound sorts are ligatures of two other juxtaposed letters, which, as with the vowel + r liga­tures, may be looked upon as instances in print of the permissible easy linking of handwritten forms referred to above. However, on the Shavian typewriter keyboard (which is now available to the public) these ligatured forms are not found each on their own key, but are to be typed with the separate keys for the two letters concerned. This is partly to economize keys, but also because a closer approximation to equal width of all letters, on the equal-space typewriter, gives a better appearance to the page of typescript than would otherwise be the case. Copies of Shaw-Script, the quarterly periodical entirely produced in Shavian, from the Shavian typewriter keyboard, may be inspected in order to judge the effect.

Further study of the Shavian alphabet and of the relation­ship of letters to the sounds they stand for will make it plain that this is a coherent system, on a carefully considered plan embodying many distinct (and sometimes mutually conflic­ting) points, which has at times been obliged by the nature of the case to compromise, though without, I believe, abandoning any important theoretical principle or upsetting the harmonious working or appearance of the whole. It will become apparent that there are in the letter shapes many visual parallels to the phonetic or other relationships between sounds: thus, for instance, all vowels are Shorts; sixteen consonants are paired on a voiced | voiceless basis where this contrast functions within the language, the voiced Deep letter being the turned counterpart of the voiceless Tall in each case; the four other pairs, similarly related visually, record other types of relationship.

In conclusion, I do not feel it incumbent upon me to enlarge upon the conjectural future of Shavian: my interest in it has been largely professional, but this interest is still very much alive. At this moment I am concerned with the statistical estimate, stipulated in Shaw's Will, of the number of people writing English in the world today, on which it is intended to base an estimate of the economic savings to be achieved by its use. When this work has been completed, and perhaps some report on it made public, the last wishes of the late George Bernard Shaw will have been fully carried out. Whether or not the Shavian alphabet becomes more widely known or eventually adopted (or something like it) depends on its intrinsic merits and on the extent to which the purpose it is intended to serve kindles a spark in the minds of the present or of some future generation.