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The Jungle Books [NOOK Book]

Overview

The Jungle Books can be regarded as classic stories told by an adult to children. But they also constitute a complex literary work of art in which the whole of Kipling's philosophy of life is expressed in miniature. They are best known for the 'Mowgli' stories; the tale of a baby abandoned and brought up by wolves, educated in the ways and secrets of the jungle by Kaa the python, Baloo the bear, and Bagheera the black panther. The stories, a mixture of fantasy, myth, and magic, are underpinned by Kipling's ...
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The Jungle Books

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Overview

The Jungle Books can be regarded as classic stories told by an adult to children. But they also constitute a complex literary work of art in which the whole of Kipling's philosophy of life is expressed in miniature. They are best known for the 'Mowgli' stories; the tale of a baby abandoned and brought up by wolves, educated in the ways and secrets of the jungle by Kaa the python, Baloo the bear, and Bagheera the black panther. The stories, a mixture of fantasy, myth, and magic, are underpinned by Kipling's abiding preoccupation with the theme of self-discovery, and the nature of the 'Law'.

Selected stories from Kipling's two "Jungle Books" chronicle the adventures of Mowgli, the boy reared by a pack of wolves in an Indian jungle. Also includes "Rikki-Tikki-Tavi."

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Editorial Reviews

School Library Journal
Gr 3-6-- With over 20 editions in print, what would justify publishing, or purchasing, another Jungle Book ? The answer is clearly Alexander's splendid and technically ravishing watercolor illustrations. Their stylized borders and overall background patterns recall--without slavishly imitating--Indian textiles and Indian book illustrations. The stunningly vibrant hues (especially the hot pinks, oranges, and electric blues) allude to the traditional colors of India but appeal to contemporary tastes for high-voltage tints. The details are evocative but spare (their scale makes the human figures unintelligible at a distance, but the many animal portraits maintain their effect across a room). With the recent reappearance of the Disney version in video and cartoon knockoffs, this edition's fine graphic vision is doubly welcome. In these numerous vignettes per double-page depictions, India is again the rich and exotic country of Kipling's romantic creation. --Patricia Dooley, University of Washington, Seattle
Sally Estes
In 18 rich watercolor paintings, Pinkney captures the sheer drama of the eight Mowgli stories and of the well-loved "Rikki-tikki-tavi." A handsome volume for collections of classic tales.
From the Publisher
"The incantatory text of Rudyard Kipling's The Jungle Book still rewards reading aloud."
Sunday Times

"The child who has never run with Mowgli's wolf pack... has missed something that he will not get from any other writer."
— Rosemary Sutcliffe

"As a child I loved The Jungle Books... If you want to look at the India of Kipling's time, there is no writer who will give it to you better."
— Salman Rushdie

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780553905632
  • Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
  • Publication date: 9/30/2008
  • Sold by: Random House
  • Format: eBook
  • Sales rank: 570,266
  • File size: 483 KB

Meet the Author

Rudyard Kipling was born in Bombay, India to British parents on December 30, 1865. In 1871, Rudyard and his sister, Trix, aged three, were left to be cared for by a couple in Southsea, England. Five years passed before he saw his parents again. His sense of desertion and despair were later expressed in his story “Baa Baa, Black Sheep” (1888), in his novel The Light that failed (1890), and his autobiography, Something of Myself (1937). As late as 1935 Kipling still spoke bitterly of the “House of Desolation” at Southsea: “I should like to burn it down and plough the place with salt.”

At twelve he entered a minor public school, the United Services College at Westward Ho, North Devon. In Stalky and CO. (1899) the myopic Beetle is a self-caricature, and the days at Westward Ho are recalled with mixed feelings. At sixteen, eccentric and literary, Kipling sailed to India to become a journalist. His Indian experiences led to seven volumes of stories, including Soldiers Three (1888) and Wee Willie Winkie (1888).

At twenty-four he returned to England and quickly tuned into a literary celebrity. In London he became close friends with an American, (Charles) Wolcott Balestier, with whom he collaborated on what critics called a “dime store novel.” Wolcott died suddenly in 1891, and a few weeks later Kipling married Wolcott’s sister, Caroline. The newlyweds settled in Brattleboro, Vermont, where Kipling wrote The Jungle Book (1895), and most of Captains Courageous (1897). By this time Kipling’s popularity and financial success were enormous.

In 1899 the Kiplings settled in Sussex, England, where he wrote some of his best books: Kim (1901), Just So Stories (1902), and Puck of Pooks Hill (1906). In 1907 he received the Nobel Prize for literature. By the time he died, on January 18 1936, critical opinion was deeply divided about his writings, but his books continued to be read by thousands, and such unforgettable poems and stories as ”Gunga Din,” “If,” “The Man Who Would Be King,” and “Rikki-Tikki-Tavi” have lived on in the consciousness of succeeding generations.


From the Paperback edition.
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Read an Excerpt

Mowgli's Brothers

Now Chil the Kite brings home the night
    That Mang the Bat sets free—
The herds are shut in byre and hut
    For loosed till dawn are we.
This is the hour of pride and power,
    Talon and tush and claw.
Oh hear the call!—Good hunting all
    That keep the Jungle Law!
Night-Song in the Jungle

It was seven o'clock of a very warm evening in the Seeonee hills when Father Wolf woke up from his day's rest, scratched himself, yawned, and spread out his paws one after the other to get rid of the sleepy feeling in their tips. Mother Wolf lay with her big gray nose dropped across her four tumbling, squealing cubs, and the moon shone into the mouth of the cave where they all lived. "Augrh!" said Father Wolf, "it is time to hunt again"; and he was going to spring down hill when a little shadow with a bushy tail crossed the threshold and whined: "Good luck go with you, O Chief of the Wolves; and good luck and strong white teeth go with the noble children, that they may never forget the hungry in this world."

It was the jackal—Tabaqui, the Dish-licker—and the wolves of India despise Tabaqui because he runs about making mischief, and telling tales, and eating rags and pieces of leather from the village rubbish-heaps. But they are afraid of him too, because Tabaqui, more than anyone else in the jungle, is apt to go mad, and then he forgets that he was ever afraid of anyone, and runs through the forest biting everything in his way. Even the tiger runs and hides when little Tabaqui goes mad, for madness is the most disgraceful thing that can overtake a wild creature. We call it hydrophobia, but they call it dewanee—the madness—and run.

"Enter, then, and look," said Father Wolf, stiffly; "but there is no food here."

"For a wolf, no," said Tabaqui; "but for so mean a person as myself a dry bone is a good feast. Who are we, the Gidur-log (the jackal people), to pick and choose?" He scuttled to the back of the cave, where he found the bone of a buck with some meat on it, and sat cracking the end merrily.

"All thanks for this good meal," he said, licking his lips. "How beautiful are the noble children! How large are their eyes! And so young too! Indeed, indeed, I might have remembered that the children of kings are men from the beginning."

Now, Tabaqui knew as well as anyone else that there is nothing so unlucky as to compliment children to their faces; and it pleased him to see Mother and Father Wolf look uncomfortable.

Tabaqui sat still, rejoicing in the mischief that he had made, and then he said spitefully:

"Shere Khan, the Big One, has shifted his hunting-grounds. He will hunt among these hills for the next moon, so he has told me."

Shere Khan was the tiger who lived near the Waingunga River, twenty miles away.

"He has no right!" Father Wolf began angrily—"By the Law of the Jungle he has no right to change his quarters without due warning. He will frighten every head of game within ten miles, and I—I have to kill for two, these days."

"His mother did not call him Lungri (the Lame One) for nothing," said Mother Wolf, quietly. "He has been lame in one foot from his birth. That is why he has only killed cattle. Now the villagers of the Waingunga are angry with him, and he has come here to make our villagers angry. They will scour the jungle for him when he is far away, and we and our children must run when the grass is set alight. Indeed, we are very grateful to Shere Khan!"

"Shall I tell him of your gratitude?" said Tabaqui.

"Out!" snapped Father Wolf. "Out and hunt with thy master. Thou hast done harm enough for one night."

"I go," said Tabaqui, quietly. "Ye can hear Shere Khan below in the thickets. I might have saved myself the message."

Father Wolf listened, and below in the valley that ran down to a little river, he heard the dry, angry, snarly, singsong whine of a tiger who has caught nothing and does not care if all the jungle knows it.

"The fool!" said Father Wolf. "To begin a night's work with that noise! Does he think that our buck are like his fat Waingunga bullocks?"

"H'sh. It is neither bullock nor buck he hunts tonight," said Mother Wolf. "It is Man." The whine had changed to a sort of humming purr that seemed to come from every quarter of the compass. It was the noise that bewilders woodcutters and gipsies sleeping in the open, and makes them run sometimes into the very mouth of the tiger.

"Man!" said Father Wolf, showing all his white teeth. "Faugh! Are there not enough beetles and frogs in the tanks that he must eat Man, and on our ground too!"

The Law of the Jungle, which never orders anything without a reason, forbids every beast to eat Man except when he is killing to show his children how to kill, and then he must hunt outside the hunting-grounds of his pack or tribe. The real reason for this is that man-killing means, sooner or later, the arrival of white men on elephants, with guns, and hundreds of brown men with gongs and rockets and torches. Then everybody in the jungle suffers. The reason the beasts give among themselves is that Man is the weakest and most defenseless of all living things, and it is unsportsmanlike to touch him. They say too—and it is true—that man-eaters become mangy, and lose their teeth.

The purr grew louder, and ended in the full-throated "Aaarh!" of the tiger's charge.

Then there was a howl—an untigerish howl—from Shere Khan. "He has missed," said Mother Wolf. "What is it?"

Father Wolf ran out a few paces and heard Shere Khan muttering and mumbling savagely, as he tumbled about in the scrub.

"The fool has had no more sense than to jump at a woodcutter's camp-fire, and has burned his feet," said Father Wolf, with a grunt. "Tabaqui is with him."

"Something is coming uphill," said Mother Wolf, twitching one ear. "Get ready."

The bushes rustled a little in the thicket, and Father Wolf dropped with his haunches under him, ready for his leap. Then, if you had been watching, you would have seen the most wonderful thing in the world—the wolf checked in mid-spring. He made his bound before he saw what it was he was jumping at, and then he tried to stop himself. The result was that he shot up straight into the air for four or five feet, landing almost where he left ground.

"Man!" he snapped. "A man's cub. Look!"

Directly in front of him, holding on by a low branch, stood a naked brown baby who could just walk—as soft and as dimpled a little atom as ever came to a wolf's cave at night. He looked up into Father Wolf's face, and laughed.

"Is that a man's cub?" said Mother Wolf. "I have never seen one. Bring it here."

A wolf accustomed to moving his own cubs can, if necessary, mouth an egg without breaking it, and though Father Wolf's jaws closed right on the child's back not a tooth even scratched the skin, as he laid it down among the cubs.

"How little! How naked, and—how bold!" said Mother Wolf, softly. The baby was pushing his way between the cubs to get close to the warm hide. "Ahai! He is taking his meal with the others. And so this is a man's cub. Now, was there ever a wolf that could boast of a man's cub among her children?"

"I have heard now and again of such a thing, but never in our Pack or in my time," said Father Wolf. "He is altogether without hair, and I could kill him with a touch of my foot. But see, he looks up and is not afraid."

The moonlight was blocked out of the mouth of the cave, for Shere Khan's great square head and shoulders were thrust into the entrance. Tabaqui, behind him, was squeaking: "My lord, my lord, it went in here!"

"Shere Khan does us great honor," said Father Wolf, but his eyes were very angry. "What does Shere Khan need?"

"My quarry. A man's cub went this way," said Shere Khan. "Its parents have run off. Give it to me."

Shere Khan had jumped at a woodcutter's camp-fire, as Father Wolf had said, and was furious from the pain of his burned feet. But Father Wolf knew that the mouth of the cave was too narrow for a tiger to come in by. Even where he was, Shere Khan's shoulders and fore paws were cramped for want of room, as a man's would be if he tried to fight in a barrel.

"The Wolves are a free people," said Father Wolf. "They take orders from the Head of the Pack, and not from any striped cattle-killer. The man's cub is ours—to kill if we choose."

"Ye choose and ye do not choose! What talk is this of choosing? By the bull that I killed, am I to stand nosing into your dog's den for my fair dues? It is I, Shere Khan, who speak!"

The tiger's roar filled the cave with thunder. Mother Wolf shook herself clear of the cubs and sprang forward, her eyes, like two green moons in the darkness, facing the blazing eyes of Shere Khan.

"And it is I, Raksha (The Demon), who answer. The man's cub is mine, Lungri—mine to me! He shall not be killed. He shall live to run with the Pack and to hunt with the Pack; and in the end, look you, hunter of little naked cubs—frog-eater—fish-killer—he shall hunt thee! Now get hence, or by the Sambhur that I killed (I eat no starved cattle), back thou goest to thy mother, burned beast of the jungle, lamer than ever thou camest into the world! Go!"

Father Wolf looked on amazed. He had almost forgotten the days when he won Mother Wolf in fair fight from five other wolves, when she ran in the Pack and was not called The Demon for compliment's sake. Shere Khan might have faced Father Wolf, but he could not stand up against Mother Wolf, for he knew that where he was she had all the advantage of the ground, and would fight to the death. So he backed out of the cave-mouth growling, and when he was clear he shouted:

"Each dog barks in his own yard! We will see what the Pack will say to this fostering of man-cubs. The cub is mine, and to my teeth he will come in the end, O bush-tailed thieves!"

Mother Wolf threw herself down panting among the cubs, and Father Wolf said to her gravely:
"Shere Khan speaks this much truth. The cub must be shown to the Pack. Wilt thou still keep him, Mother?"

"Keep him!" she gasped. "He came naked, by night, alone and very hungry; yet he was not afraid! Look, he has pushed one of my babes to one side already. And that lame butcher would have killed him and would have run off to the Waingunga while the villagers here hunted through all our lairs in revenge! Keep him? Assuredly I will keep him. Lie still, little frog. O thou Mowgli—for Mowgli the Frog I will call thee—the time will come when thou wilt hunt Shere Khan as he has hunted thee."

"But what will our Pack say?" said Father Wolf.

The Law of the Jungle lays down very clearly that any wolf may, when he marries, withdraw from the Pack he belongs to; but as soon as his cubs are old enough to stand on their feet he must bring them to the Pack Council, which is generally held once a month at full moon, in order that the other wolves may identify them. After that inspection the cubs are free to run where they please, and until they have killed their first buck no excuse is accepted if a grown wolf of the Pack kills one of them. The punishment is death where the murderer can be found; and if you think for a minute you will see that this must be so.

Father Wolf waited till his cubs could run a little, and then on the night of the Pack Meeting took them and Mowgli and Mother Wolf to the Council Rock—a hilltop covered with stones and boulders where a hundred wolves could hide. Akela, the great gray Lone Wolf, who led all the Pack by strength and cunning, lay out at full length on his rock, and below him sat forty or more wolves of every size and color, from badger-colored veterans who could handle a buck alone, to young black three-year-olds who thought they could. The Lone Wolf had led them for a year now. He had fallen twice into a wolf-trap in his youth, and once he had been beaten and left for dead; so he knew the manners and customs of men. There was very little talking at the rock. The cubs tumbled over each other in the center of the circle where their mothers and fathers sat, and now and again a senior wolf would go quietly up to a cub, look at him carefully, and return to his place on noiseless feet. Some_times a mother would push her cub far out into the moonlight, to be sure that he had not been overlooked. Akela from his rock would cry: "Ye know the Law—ye know the Law. Look well, O Wolves!" and the anxious mothers would take up the call: "Look—look well, O Wolves!"

At last—and Mother Wolf's neck-bristles lifted as the time came—Father Wolf pushed "Mowgli the Frog," as they called him, into the center, where he sat laughing and playing with some pebbles that glistened in the moonlight.

Akela never raised his head from his paws, but went on with the monotonous cry: "Look well!" A muffled roar came up from behind the rocks—the voice of Shere Khan crying: "The cub is mine. Give him to me. What have the Free People to do with a man's cub?" Akela never even twitched his ears: all he said was: "Look well, O Wolves! What have the Free People to do with the orders of any save the Free People? Look well!"

There was a chorus of deep growls, and a young wolf in his fourth year flung back Shere Khan's question to Akela: "What have the Free People to do with a man's cub?" Now the Law of the Jungle lays down that if there is any dispute as to the right of a cub to be accepted by the Pack, he must be spoken for by at least two members of the Pack who are not his father and mother.

"Who speaks for this cub?" said Akela. "Among the Free People who speaks?" There was no answer, and Mother Wolf got ready for what she knew would be her last fight, if things came to fighting.

Then the only other creature who is allowed at the Pack Council—Baloo, the sleepy brown bear who teaches the wolf cubs the Law of the Jungle: old Baloo, who can come and go where he pleases because he eats only nuts and roots and honey—rose up on his hind quarters and grunted.

"The man's cub—the man's cub?" he said. "I speak for the man's cub. There is no harm in a man's cub. I have no gift of words, but I speak the truth. Let him run with the Pack, and be entered with the others. I myself will teach him."

From the Paperback edition.

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Table of Contents

The Jungle Books Introduction
Note on the Text
The Jungle Book
Preface
Mowgli's Brothers
Hunting Song of the Seeonee Pack
Kaa's Hunting
Road-Song of the Bandar-Log
"Tiger-Tiger!"
Mowgli's Song
The White Seal
Lukannon
"Rikki-tikki-tavi"
Darzee's Chaunt
Toomai of the Elephants
Shiv and the Grasshopper
Servants of the Queen
Parade-Song of the Camp-Animals

The Second Jungle Book
How Fear Came
The Law of the Jungle
The Miracle of Purun Bhagat
A Song of Kabir
Letting in the Jungle
Mowgli's Song against People
The Undertakers
A Ripple Song
The King's Ankus
The Song of the Little Hunter
Quiquern
Angutivun Tina
Red Dog
Chil's Song
The Spring Running
The Outsong

Notes

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 3.5
( 203 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star

(73)

4 Star

(45)

3 Star

(42)

2 Star

(19)

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(24)

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 209 Customer Reviews
  • Posted April 5, 2010

    more from this reviewer

    I Also Recommend:

    "For it is I ,Wontala, who goest before thee"

    This book is the best assembly and compilation of the Jungle Books, which were not necessarily written in chronolgical order of the story events, that I have found.

    Mowgli, meaning naked frog presents himself as the Christ Child bourne in a manger and presented as the holder and keeper of Jungle Law. Kaa the Python, Hathi the Elephant, Baloo the Bear, and Bageerah the Panther, all marshal soldier and advise this child king of the wilds at nation building and holding against the Anti Christ, a daenon in the form of the Tiger Sher Khan.

    The Seeonee wolf clan are his brethren and like Romulus he is put to the test insofar as much that no wolf can dethrone him from the ascension after the dying Alpha leader, Akela.

    I cannot do the book justice for it is the Bible of the Oxford school and the Scouts of William Baden Powell, down the line beyond J.R.R. Tolkein, Frank Herbert, Lewis Carol and lo and behold Sting of the Police and onward.

    The book has been used as a military treatise as to the way of the Continental Soldier of Britian and as a study and meditation into the cosmic and eartly forces of nature.

    Some of my favorites are: The Day Fear Came, Red Dog, Riki Tiki Tavi, The Song of the Seeonee pack (insert King Solomon), and Jungle Law. This is some of the greatest prose ever written in the English language.

    Son of Kaa he bespeaketh upon this matter hsssssss.

    5 out of 5 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 25, 2012

    Dosnt download very well

    Good book tho

    4 out of 6 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 25, 2007

    A reviewer

    I had read the Jungle Books a while back and enjoyed the stories then. I have recently re-read the 'Books' and found I like them better the second time around. I found this to be one of the true classics of english literature on it's own, but with the Barnes and Noble Classic Series the insight into the author and his world really bring the book to life.

    4 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 2, 2013

    Trashed

    I vouldn't get into the book

    3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 5, 2013

    Uhhhh

    The movie is way better

    3 out of 6 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 8, 2012

    To-ahaaa

    That is so very random of you haha

    2 out of 9 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted September 27, 2013

    Dum

    STUPID BOOK NOT THE REAL VERSION

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 6, 2012

    Loved it!

    This book is an amazing classic that is a must for readers of all ages! :)

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 1, 2012

    Eagleheart

    He drank from the stream.

    0 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 20, 2012

    It an awesome book

    This is a book i would give as a college graduation gift to a guy. It has a wonderful storyline. To me it was an allegory using animals as the representation for a human. It was adventurous, it was funny and i was able to relate with this story. I would highly recomend this book to anyone really. This is a must have for any library.

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  • Posted November 22, 2010

    amazing

    my ansester wrote this book and everyone should read this at some point in there life

    0 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted August 6, 2010

    A Classic Tresure

    The Jungle Books are Rudyard Kipling's classic tales of life in the wild. It's often classified as children's literature, and while I loved it as a child, I greatly enjoyed rereading it as an adult. Mowgli's story is still my favorite and is far more realistically depicted than the Disney version. Be careful when buying this title that you get both the first and second jungle book together as in this edition. Some other editions only contain the first or second book. Kipling is great, and this is his best.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 2, 2010

    In the Jungle

    nothing like the move everyone saw as a child from what i remember it was a really different story.

    0 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 16, 2007

    Read this then watch the many movies

    These are wonderful tales of animal magic and human success. I grew up with these stories and others by Rudyard Kipling and then found the 1942 Sabu movie of 'The Jungle Book' and fell in love with them all over again. These are the kinds of stories even the smartest kids can learn good qualities from because the characters either save themselves or an animal saves them - and this shows them trust, loyalty, courage and honor towards, for and of others. Very much like I teach my own son.

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    Posted October 26, 2013

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    Posted April 9, 2011

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    Posted March 25, 2011

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    Posted May 9, 2011

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    Posted March 28, 2011

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 12, 2010

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 209 Customer Reviews

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