Citation
Peter Parley's walks in the country, or, Rural pickings

Material Information

Title:
Peter Parley's walks in the country, or, Rural pickings Being attractive points in country life and scenery
Spine title:
Walks in the country
Portion of title:
Rural pickings
Creator:
Old Humphrey, 1787-1854
Howard, H ( Illustrator )
Finden, W ( William ), 1787-1852 ( Engraver )
William Tegg & Co ( Publisher )
Bradbury & Evans ( Printer )
Place of Publication:
London
Publisher:
Willian Tegg and Co.
Manufacturer:
Bradbury and Evans
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
222 p. : ill. ; 18 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Country life -- Juvenile literature ( lcsh )
Farm life -- Juvenile literature ( lcsh )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1852 ( rbbin )
Bldn -- 1852
Genre:
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding) ( rbbin )
non-fiction ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
England -- London
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
Frontispiece engraved by W. Finden and painted by H. Howard.
Funding:
Brittle Books Program
Statement of Responsibility:
by the author of "Ephraim holding's, Domestic addresses, Old Humphrey, &c.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
026909867 ( ALEPH )
40972044 ( OCLC )
ALH6148 ( NOTIS )

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PETER PARLEY?’s

WALKS IN THR COUNTRY:

RURAL PICKINGS:

BEING,

ATTRACTIVE POINTS IN COUNTRY LIFE AND SCENERY.

BY THE AUTHOR oF

“EPHRAIM HOLDING's DOMESTIC Ap»

RESSEs,”
**OLD HUMPHREY,” &c.

LONDON:
WILLIAM TEGG AND CO., 85, QUEEN
CHEAPSIDE.

1852.

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CONTENTS.

a
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
INTRODUCTORY. ‘ ; . ‘ ; : ‘ ]
CHAPTER II.
SOLITARY RAMBLING IN COUNTRY PLACES.
Companionship in trees——-Communings with the earth and skies.—
Grateful influence of a country walk.—Solitary paths.—Green
lanes.—The park.—The antique manor-house.—The high hill. —
The sylvan scene.—Rural influences.—Country and city pleasures
contrasted.—The country girl . ‘ : ‘ : : 4

CHAPTER III.
COUNTRY RIDES AND DRIVES.

Delights of riding and driving in the country.— The wooded hill—
the open common—the shady avenue.—High banks—hedges—and
green pastures.—The blackbird, hare, and pheasant.—The wind-
mill.—The miller.—The mishap.—The countryman.—The errand
woman.—The group of children.—The shower.—The _public-
house.—The pot-house.—The setting sun i ‘ ali



V1 CONTENTS.

CHAPTER IV.
FARM-HOUSES AND FARMERS.

Contrast between a country farmer and a city tradesman.— Farm
houses.——Stone walls.—Gables.—Pointed roofs.—High and heavy
chimneys.—Oaken door studded with iron.—Porch fitted up with
settles.—A farmer's homestead, fold-yard, and rick-yard.—Rural
picture by Pratt.—The farmer and his visitor.—Howitt’s descrip-
tion of farm-houses and farmers.—The dinner party

CHAPTER V.
ON BIRDS, FLOWERS, AND OTHER THINGS.

Sunbeams and sunny scenes.—Tall trees.—The upland lawn.—
Morning, mid-day, and sunset.—The cuckoo, lark, thrush, black-
bird, and nightingale. — Field flowers. — The heath-flower.—
Animals and reptiles.—Death of a spider.—Sketch in a retired lane

CHAPTER VIL.
THE COUNTRY BOY.

Variety occasioned by the seasons in rural objects and occupations.—
Approach of summer.—Advantage of good temper.—The country
boy.—He swings to and fro on the gate, and eats his bread and
bacon.—The pocket-knife.—Light-heartedness.—The fine ladies.
—The country boy’s rural knowledge.—Speculations on his
future prospects

CHAPTER VII.
A FEW WORDS ABOUT OLD HOUSES.

New attractions given to rural scenes.—Interesting spots no longer
to be identified.—Old houses.—Fragments only of their history to
be obtained.— Way in which they are occupied.— ‘lizabethan old
English manor-houses.—Terraces, balconies, halls, chambers,
furniture, tapestry, and paintings.—The armoury and the associa-
tions it calls forth— Wolverley Court.—Tradition . ‘ ‘

PAGE

17

26

33

40



CONTENTS. Vii

PAGE

CHAPTER VIII.
THE ASCENT OF MOUNT MUCKLESTONE.

Turning natural scenery to a good account.—Perseverance a valuable
quality.— Ascent of Mount Mucklestone.—The solitary traveller.
— Lake Crystal—The rock gives way, and the traveller falls.
—Steepness of Mount Mucklestone.—The second accident of the
traveller.—The cavern.—The ridgy ledge.—The traveller loses his
footing, and rolls over the arch of the cavern.—The escape.—The
summit gained.—Remarks . ° ‘ ; ; A -

CHAPTER IX.
COTTAGES AND COTTAGERS.

Cottage of Mother Hollins.—Mother Hollins’s cat—_The Wanderer.
—Cottages of the poor and of the rich.—Our cares increase the
value of our comforts——Cottage children.—A cottager’s love of
natural beauty.—Trials and afflictions of cottagers——Poor Widow
Gill, and her wayward Son. , ; ° . , - , 5

CHAPTER X.
ON SERVING-MEN, OR MEN-OF-ALL-WORK.

Usefulness of serving-men.—George Glossop.—His varied occupa-
tions and great strength—Proud of his talent in hair-cutting.—
George hives the bees and plays the parts of farrier and butcher.—
Harvest time.—Robert Hadley.—Edwin Horton.—Old Samuel
Green.—John Andrews.—John’s occupations.—The garden, the
stable, the carriage-house and the cellar—John Andrews always
to be found when wanted ° ‘ ; ‘ ‘ :
CHAPTER XI.
ON COUNTRY KINDNESS.

Sketch of spring.—The trees.—The birds.—The cattle-—The young
colts.—Children.—Grey-haired age.—Kindness.—The Duke of
Portland and his tenant.—Kindnesses and unkindnesses.—The
rat-trap.—Kind thoughts, feelings, intentions, words, and deeds.

—A call on a country friend.—Kindness to those who need it is
of double value. ; : ; ‘ ‘ : ; oO



vill CONTENTS.

PAGE

CHAPTER XII.
THE PLOUGHING MATCH.

Attractions of the ploughed field—The ploughing-match.—Fawley
Court.—The prizes.—The nine ploughmen.—Old Preese and the
Prim-my.—The spectators.—The bait.—George Hodges’ care of
his horses—The large knife—Farmer Street the Umpire.—
William Howell gains the first prize—Old Preese’s wheel within
a wheel.—Another ploughing-match fixed for next year . io

CHAPTER XIII.
BLACK JACK.

Common Patch.—The Graingers.—Black Jack.—His cruelty, igno-
rance, idleness and immorality.—The two mastiffs.—Jack ties a
canister to the tail of one of them.—The distress of the poor
animal.—Jack kills him.—The farm-house.—Black Jack commits
a burglary, and is seized and held fast by a mastiff dog.—He is
tried for his life and condemned.—The gallows tree.—Black
Jack is hung, while the mastiff dog barks for joy : : . 84

CHAPTER XIV.
FARMING DUTIES.

The Bible read.—The bell rang—The maids called.—The horse-
keeper roused.—The horses fed.—Calves suckled—Cowhouse
cleaned.—Garden visited.—Ferry boat scooped dry.—Plough
team examined.—The water-trough filled.—The hogs fed.— Malt
ordered.—Wheelbarrows set to work.—Victuals cut for boys.—
Wooden bottles filled——Set ploughs to work.—Ditching.—
Attending to the manure.— Weeding wheat.—Set carpenter to
work.—Hedging.—Picking thistles ; ° ‘ ; .

CHAPTER XV.
PICKINGS OF FIELDS AND MEADOWS.

Love of country.—Odd names of fields, with their significations.—A
corn-field—A_ grasshopper’s garden.— Ploughed fields. —Turnip
fields. —Brook-side meadow.—The fisherman.—Sunny-bank field.



CONTENTS.

—Hop ground.— The pretty meadow. — Winds.— The rocky
meadow.—The Haws.—Broad flat meadow.—Adventure of the
mourning ring.—The river

CHAPTER XVI.
A SPRINKLING OF RURAL ATTRACTIONS.

The dry ditch, old stone quarry, and lonely lane.—The grasshopper,
corncrake, and blackbird—The ploughman, shepherd, hedger,
mole-catcher, mower, haymaker, and reaper.—Field flowers.—
Moors and mountains.—Oaks, streams, and insects; sheep and
horses, clouds, orchards and clover field.—The frosty morning. —
The moon, owlet, weasel, and rat.—Sea-shore, ruined abbey, and
country churchyard

CHAPTER XVII.
ON THE SKIES.

The influence of the skies.—A clear blue sky.—A mountainous sky.
—A peaceful sky.—A fleecy sky.—A threatening sky.—An
iceberg sky.—A stormy sky.—A glorious sky.— A wild and fitful
sky.—A burning sky ° .

CHAPTER XVIII.
COUNTRY STROLLERS,
Beggars.— Pedlars. —Chimney-sweeps.—Sailors.—Man with bears

and dancing dogs.—Showmen.—Gipsies, with their character and
occupation.—Gipsies in Spain.—Gipsy girl—Gipsy adventure

CHAPTER XIX.
LONELY PLACES IN THE COUNTRY.

Lonely houses.—Lonely lanes.—Lonely pools.—Lonely clumps of
trees.—Taggard’s Tump.—The cluster of elms.—The school girls.
—The piefinch.—Robert Andrews.—Alice and her lover.—The
robbers.—The wounded horseman.—The booty.—The quarrel.—
The widow Allen.—The idiot boy.—Above the stars

PAGE

98

107

113

119

127



xX CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XX.
SOMETHING ABOUT WOODS AND COPPICES.

Entrance of the coppice.—The shade, the sylvan seclusion of the
leafy labyrinth, and the wild wilderness of young trees.—F lowers.—
Cottage children.—Gathering nuts—Fall of the leaf— The
wood.—The giant trees.—Productiveness of the oak.—The
adder.—The varied tones of trees in the wind.—The storm

CHAPTER XXI.
COUNTRY SPORTS AND EMPLOYMENTS.

By appropriating the gifts of creation we increase their value.—
Pastimes of the common people influenced by the amusements of
their superiors.—Jousts, tourneys, and running at the quintain.—
Wrestling. —Quoits.—Skittles —Cricket.—Fishing.— Archery.—
Sporting terms.—Boating.—Skating —Sketching.—Botanising.—
Gardening. —Walking . : : ; :

CHAPTER XXII.
CHARACTERS TO BE MET WITH IN THE COUNTRY.

Travellers.—Men of science.—Painters.—Literary characters.—
Military and naval officers.— Influence of a visit at a hospitable
farm-house.—The Major and the hawk.—The exciseman, clerk,
lawyer, doctor, and village pastor

CHAPTER XXIII.
COUNTRY PICKINGS KNOWN TO EVERYBODY.

All seasons of the year grateful to a lover of nature.—Influence of
sylvan scenery.—Nature is ever beautiful.—The stone quarry.—
The glow-worm.—Cattle among the buttercups.—The way-side
spring —Lambs at play.—The rookery.—Coppices.—The gnarled
old oak.—The secluded lane.—Moss-covered walls.—Violet
banks.—Old ruins .

PAGE

136

145

153

160



CONTENTS. xl

PAGE

CHAPTER XXIV.
THE CAPLER WOOD ROBBERS.

A cheerless autumnal night.—The alarm.—The gang of gipsies.—
The supposed murderers.—The ruffian at the house of Molly
Prosser.—Preparation to pursue the gang.—Bradeley Coppice and
the fields.—Capler Wood.—The shrill whistle-—The gipsy rob-
bers found.—The dark shed and the furious bull-dog.—The
summons.—The dark shed entered.—The capture. ° . 166

CHAPTER XXV.
COUNTRY SIGHTS AND SOUNDS.

The love of natural scenery favourable to cheerfulness, virtue, and
piety.—A rural scene is a library.—Pleasant scenes in the
country.—Riotous noises in the farm-yard.—Sounds in the fields.
—The rookery—The warbling of birds—The voice of the
thunder storm, and the whispering of the breeze ; ° .. a

CHAPTER XXVI.
THE OLD CHURCH PORCH.

Aged country people.—Their quaintness and quietude.—The village
churchyard.—The old church porch.—The aged rustic’s narrative.
—The group of graves.—Abel Haycroft and his three sons,
Ambrose, Gideon, and Gregory—Ambrose goes to sea and
returns.—Gideon goes abroad and comes back.—Gregory receives
them both.—Death of the two brothers, Ambrose and Gideon.—
Gregory, the aged rustic, finishes his story ‘ : ; - 181

CHAPTER XXVII.
THE VILLAGE INN.

Rural scenes, however varied and variable, are essentially the same.
—Jeremy Taylor’s description of the rising sun—Sketch of sum-
mer.—The softening effect of distance on a landscape.—The beer-
shop.—The Village Inn.—Its attractions.—lIts occasional visitors.
—-Poor Mary : ‘ : : ; ° ° : . 189



xll CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XXVIII.
CHANGE AND VARIETY IN RURAL SCENERY.

_ Rural changes.—Reflections.—The frosty morning.—The elm, the
birch, and the holly.—The copses, the sand-bank, and the valley.
__Horses, cattle, sheep, colts, and pointer dog.—The covered wag-
gon.—The stage coach.—The pedlar and the Irish tramper.—Boys
sliding —Tracks in the snow.—Peggy and her patten.—The
hawthorn and spring.—The pollard oak.—The field, the lane, the
coppice, and the common ; ° °

CHAPTER XXIX.
MOSSY BANKS AND GURGLING STREAMS.

Soothing influence of rural scenes. —Goodness of God set forth in the
harmony, peacefulness, and beauty of creation.—The retired
valley—The wood.—The brook.—The pools.—The falls. —
Mossy banks and gurgling streams.— Miniature cavern.— Wayside
objects. —Christmas.—Old observances. —The village church

CHAPTER XXX.

RURAL PICTURES.

The homestead of Luke Holmes.—The ruined thatch, broken win-
dows, shattered cart, and empty rick-yard.—Old Dinger.—The
Fifth of November bonfire.—Feeding the poultry.—The last
load.—The thrasher.—The rainbow.—The woodman.—The rimy
morning. —The rising sun.— Hunting scene.—Sun-set.—Re-
flections ° ; ; ° ;

PAGE

196

203



RURAL PICKINGS.

CHAPTER I.

———
INTRODUCTORY.

‘THERE is something to be blamed or pitied in that heart,

which feels not a warmer glow, and beats not with a bolder
throb when under the influence of rural scenes. Youth and
manhood delight in the country, while childhood absolutely
revels there. Even Old Age himself, almost forgetting the
wrinkles on his brow, and the rheumatism in his limbs, is
ready to skip in the gaiety of his heart, while he breathes
the fresh air, gazes on the green fields, and calls to his
remembrance the exploits of his boyhood.

Again his childish days afford him joy,
And pleasant thoughts—again he is a boy!

As my book will appeal rather to the heart than to the
head, so sentimentality must give place to the healthy
freshness of natural feeling. I cannot promise you much
of a treat in the way of sighing over “ faded flowers,” and
apostrophising “babbling streams ;” but I will do my best
to set your pulse throbbing among the bright breezy hills

B



2 RURAL PICKINGS.

and the sweet, secluded, bird-singing, heart-expanding val-
leys of rural scenery.

I will set before you, in such language as I may, rustic
occupations, the rich garniture of fields, the goodly foliage
of trees, the beauty of buds and blossoms, the sparkling
of running brooks, the warbling of the feathery world, the
fair forms of hills and valleys, the bright gleams of sun-
sets, and the brighter glories of sun-risings. I will take
you to scenes of rural seclusion, of dark and shadowy nooks,
of wild boughs hanging over gurgling streams, of woods
of giant trees, and hazel copses rich with clustering nuts ;
of mossy banks sprinkled with primroses; of old stone
quarries and grey cliffs hung with creepers, ivy, and lichens ;
of thorn bushes garlanded with wild convolvulus and red and
yellow poison-berries ; of tangled wildernesses of gorse,
fern, and fox-glove. You shall see Nature in her glory
and her gloom; hear her in the silent eloquence of her
solitude, and feel her influence in every hour.

Many have gone before me in describing rural scenery,
and others will follow me in the same alluring enterprise ;
but Nature is a wide field in which all may wander, and
each find something novel to admire. He that roams
in the rich luxuriance of country scenes, with a love of
what is sweet and simple, as well as what is arresting
and sublime; and is content to express faithfully the
joyous emotions of his mind, the gushing gladness of his
spirit, in natural language, can hardly fail in affording
pleasure.

The lover of nature has an inexhaustible treasure in the
common things of creation. His enjoyments flow not
from one part of rural influences, but from all. To him
the air is health, the wind is music, the flowers are pearls,
the fruits a banquet, and the burst of glowing sights and



INTRODUCTION. 3

harmonious sounds that appeal at once to his eye, his ear,
and his heart, create in him a jubilee of joy.
“ God has not given
This passion to the heart of man in vain,

This love of earth’s green face, and air of heaven,
And all the bliss of Nature’s rustic reign.”

For it is a source of wealth; not the wealth of the coffer,
but of the heart. It makes man rich in the love of beauty ;
rich in the quiet delights of solitude; rich in sweet and
_ kindly thoughts; rich in yearnings and aspirations after
purity and knowledge; and rich in desires for the hap-
piness of all creatures. It breaks up the deep fountain of
his affections, binding him in closer brotherhood to his kind,
and awakening in his soul a warmer, a purer, and a holier
thanksgiving to God.

—4¢——

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CRIES

CHAPTER II.

—_-—.

SOLITARY RAMBLING IN COUNTRY PLACES.

Companionship in trees—Communings with the earth and skies.—Grate-
ful influence of a country walk.—Solitary paths.—Green lanes.—The
park.—The antique manor-house.—The high hill—The sylvan scene.
—Rural influences—Country and city pleasures contrasted.—The
country girl.

FE who has increased the joy of those around him, has
done some service to his kind. To be happy and to
make others happy; to point out what is fair and beautiful
in the world, and to call forth the strong sympathy of
kindred spirits, is a blissful privilege that a friendly and
nature-loving heart will highly prize. There are those
who know not the value of their possessions in the natural
creation, and who have never heard of

“ Poets making earth aware
Of all its wealth in good and fair.”

Such should be reminded that for them the sun shines,
the dew falls, the flowers spring, and the rural world is
arrayed with beauty. .

Who, having a mind capable of observation and reflec-
tion, has ever indulged in a country walk without adding
to his peace and joy! To be alone amongst Nature's
works, is not to be lonely. There is a companionship in
the trees and hedge-rows ; there are communings of thought



SOLITARY RAMBLING IN COUNTRY PLACES. 5

with the heavens and the earth, with the birds, insects,
and flowers, which beguile the mind of its cares, and add
to its happiness. Do you doubt this? Set your foot in the
shadowy lane; climb the stile into the fields; get among the
buttercups and the daffodils, and you will doubt it no longer.

Is your heart but ill at ease? Are yousad? Then get
into the green fields. As you leave behind you the habita-
tions of men, the oppression on your spirits will gradually
lighten. You will have liberty to indulge your woe, for no
_ one will be the witness of your anxiety ; but this very liberty
to be sad will make you more cheerful. As the air comes
wildly around you, you will breathe more freely, and your
restraint and your moodiness will take wing together.
The chirping of birds will invite, nay, persuade you to be
happy. ‘The trees, beautiful in form, and varied in leaf
and colour, some magnificently grand in height, some
heavily hung with verdure, and some of delicate spray and
foliage of feathery lightness, casting their shadows on the
green turf, will allure you from the sunny glare, so that you
may revel in the shade and look upwards with thankfulness,
and without being blinded by the mid-day blaze.

As you proceed, refreshed by the temporary shade, the
clear, blue sky, and the vegetable world, reflected in the
water, will arrest your admiring eye, and wake you with
wonder and delight. Nor will the soft grass beneath your
feet be without its influence on your heart, nor the insect
world on the wing, buzzing, fluttering, or dancing in the
air, fail to excite gladdening emotions ; the eye, the ear, and
the heart will all share the general jubilee, till unconsciously
you will find yourself humming a lively tune, or singing a
hymn of thanksgiving.

‘ Hope her sweetest flowers shall bring,
And Joy shall sport with sunny wing.



6 RURAL PICKINGS.

It may be, too, that at the close of your delightful wan-
derings, you may meet with one of kindred spirit, who will
love to listen to your glowing descriptions of all that you
have heard, and seen, and felt, and who, moved by the
eloquence of your heart and tongue, will agree with you
that of all walks, a walk in the country, whether solitary
or social, is the least lonely, and the most delightful.

But why do I speak as though you were a stranger to
rurality, when I ought rather to take it for granted that you
are a lover of Nature, and have wandered, freely as myself,
her loneliest and loveliest scenes !

No doubt you have walked abroad in the country in soli-
tary paths, when your foot has shaken the dew from the
spangled fern, and when the bright sun has flashed through
the crooked branches and dark-green leaves above your head.
You have scared the solitary owl from the hollow oak, and
the timid hare from her form beneath the furze-bush, paus-
ing a moment to watch the heavy flight of the one to the
wood, and the nimble escape of the other to the coppice.

You have wandered down the green lane, narrow, and
overhung with branches, when the piebald magpie has win-
nowed his way chattering, to the upper boughs of the tall
ash, and the blackbird with rapid wing has buried himself
‘n the brake, taking your course to the green-mantled pond
-» the hollow at the bottom of the broken ridge.

You have walked among the sere rustling leaves, and
seated yourself on the ivyed trunk of the fallen tree, gazing
on the water, while the fish have leaped up to catch the
gnats and flies on its surface. A moor-hen has suddenly
appeared from the hollow of the bank, a water-rat has
plunged to the bottom of the pond, and a widgeon has pad-
dled along between the bulrushes and the broad flat leaves
of the water-lily.



SOLITARY RAMBLING IN COUNTRY PLACES. 7

You have rambled in the park among the dry fern, and
under the hollow oaks, when the timid fawn has started off
to the distant herd, and the antlered stag has turned
towards you his proud head and branched horns, as if ques-
tioning your right to trespass on his territory. You have
gazed on the antique pile, the stately manor-house with its
wide-spread wings, ivy-clustered walls, and spacious courts,
quiet and partly grass-grown, as though they had been left
much to themselves. ‘The ancient hall, though not tenant-
less, has appeared deserted; though not a ruin, it has had
a ruinous aspect, as if it had outlived its day, and belonged
to a period of time long passed by.

You have mounted the high hill and gazed on the bound-
less prospect of fields and farms, woods and running waters,
church spires, villages, and distant mountains. You have
seen the beauty of sylvan scenes, felt the luxury of repose,
and drunk in the soothing influence of solitude, silence, and
meditation. Little have you recked the haunts of busy
life, little have you desired the hubbub of the distant city.
Escaped from noise and turmoil and care, you have gra-
dually given way to the delightful, calm, and quiet enjoyment,
that by degrees has sunk into your very soul.

How lowly, in such seasons, have you estimated riches,
and luxury, and renown; how hateful appeared to you
injustice, oppression, and cruelty, and how much in unison
with your affections were pity, and charity, and kindness,
and love, and thankfulness, and praise. |

In such a scene, in such a time, and in such a mood of
mind, you have had crowding upon you a lovely cluster of
rural influences in sweet confusion, in which different sea-
sons were mingled; green grass and verdant foliage ; cot-
tages with vine-clad walls; oaks and elms casting their
shadows over half an acre. Cowslip meadows, violet banks,



8 RURAL PICKINGS.

and broken ground, rich with the yellow furze and purple
foxglove ; hill and common decked with the crimson heath-
bell; birch trees with silvery bark ; soft moss, dried fern,
the warbling of birds, the breathing of the scented gale, the
odour of the burning peat, the blue heavens bright and
beautiful, and the golden glory of the setting sun.

One half the things we prize in the crowded city are will-
ingly resigned in the country for the unbroken quietude
and undisturbed peace which are there enjoyed. In the
city we seek our pleasure, and provoke our delight, but in
rural scenes our enjoyments come uncalled around us, and
gently take possession of our hearts. City pleasures ener-
vate us by their excitement—country pleasures strengthen
us by their sweetness and repose.

In rural scenes we wander without restraint ; we have no
need to pay particular attention to our dress, we have no
fine speeches to make, and no etiquette to observe. We go
on, or we stop as we list ; converse with those we meet, or”
pass them by at our pleasure ; muse, moralise, and sketch
with our pencil or pen just as we feel inclined.

Leisure and Ease lead on the tranquil hours,
And Pleasure guides us to his fairy bowers.

But now let me sketch you a country girl from the life ;
little did she think, when first she caught my attention at
the brook, that any eye was fixed upon her, still less that
she should ever figure away in print. When people sit for
their pictures, no wonder that they set themselves in stiff
and unnatural attitudes; give me asketch from unconscious
nature. I saw my country girl through a hawthorn hedge,
when she dreamed not that any one was near.

See you the cottage on the rising slope at the corner of
the coppice, where the thin, blue smoke is losing itself



SOLITARY RAMBLING IN COUNTRY PLACES. 9

among the topmost branches of the trees? Picturesque as
it is, it is much more to be admired as the subject fora
sketch, than as a place of abode, for the thatched roof is old
and uneven, the rooms are small and dark, and the whole
tenement would be better for repair; the very rabbit-pens
are in crazy keeping with the cottage, and the bee-hives in
the garden look as if a blast would blow them down. But
the country girl! the country girl!

The country girl, in coarse clothing, filling her pitcher,
there, at the brook, suits the scene better than if she were
gaily attired. Like the rest of the world, she lightly values
the blessings she enjoys. What is within our reach is too
common-place to be estimated highly ; she thinks not of the
‘pure and healthy air she breathes, nor knows she the worth
of the clear, fresh, tasteless water in which she is dipping
her pitcher. Those who are pent up in the smoky city
know the worth of these things. Mankind are unlike the
fox in the fable, who called the grapes sour which he could
not reach. Had a man been in Reynard’s situation, he
would have ranked the unattainable clusters as among the
choicest fruit of the vintage. After all, however, the under-
valuing of the grapes on the part of Reynard was only
assumed, so that men and foxes are more alike than I at
first imagined.

But again I am wandering from the country girl, who is
well worthy our best regard, for Sarah Cummins is a praise-
worthy character, and young and small in stature as she is,
think not that she is a cipher in her father’s cottage. Even
now its comforts depend much on her care, for her parents
are away at work in the fields, and she is left in charge of
the younger children.

What mischief might not ensue in that humble abode,
were it not for Sarah’s superintendence! She has left the



10 RURAL PICKINGS.

baby asleep in the cradle, and invested a younger sister with
brief authority over the household, whilst she is gone forth
to fill the water-pitcher, but she will resume her rank the
instant she returns to the dwelling, for she is somewhat
proud of power, though she does not abuse it, and assumes
her mother’s manners when the cottage is left to her care.

Her parents feel little anxiety about their children while
away, for they know that Sarah will see to everything, and
prevent accidents from falls or fire. She began to practise
so early, that she is likely to become an adept in domestic
duties; as it is, she can cook coarse dishes, and already is
she promised a place at the squire’s when old enough to
take it. This will give a wide field for fresh acquirements.
But the cottage roof does not cover her skill, for, now and
then she toils with her mother in the fields, and twice has
she attended market at the neighbouring town. Besides all
this, Sarah learns at the Sunday school what her parents
cannot teach her. Though her father sings rude songs, she
carols sweet hymns; though he spells old newspapers bor-
rowed from the public-house, she reads her Testament and
little books lent by her teachers. Her mother listens when
she reads, and her father does not oppose it, having sense
enough to see that such exercises are good for his child.
Even in his cups has he been heard to boast that “ Sally
is a sober lass, and given to goodly ways.”

There are three or four pictures against the cottage walls,
but Sarah’s sampler is worth them all put together. It
hangs opposite the window, and is, like other cottage sam-
plers, profusely adorned with green fir-trees, parrots with
twin cherries in their beaks, and a scroll border. Nor is
Sarah without her jewels, though that name will rather
apply to the store she sets by them, than to the value of the
simple articles themselves. Among these is a small



SOLITARY RAMBLING IN COUNTRY PLACES. 11

enamelled box an inch and a half long, with the well-known

distich thereon,
“ The gift is small,
But friendship ’s all.”

This box contains a very shabby pair of gilt ear-rings,
and Sarah thinks it not altogether impossible that she may
one day wear them. There is also a green smelling-bottle,
sundry bits of lace, ribbon, and black satin, a shilling of
very doubtful character, a new penny, and a crooked six-
pence, besides a pincushion, needle-case, and silver thimble.

Sarah is certainly notable as a workwoman, but yet, after
all, she is fond of a little trifling. Three times, while I have
been peeping at her, has she held up her full pitcher on
high, to empty it playfully into the brook, watching the sil
very descending stream, and enjoying the light below in the
agitated waters; and twice has she set down her jug to
throw a pebble-stone at a water-rat under the roots on the
bank of the stream. At length the cares of the cottage
call her away. She has once more filled her pitcher, and
is now hastening back to her domestic duties, with one
arm stretched out towards the horizon, by way of counter-
poise, while the other is borne down by the weight of her

heavy jug.

a



SS —Sa-—

CHAPTER III.

Ea
COUNTRY RIDES AND DRIVES.

Delights of riding and driving in the country.—The ‘wooded hill—the
open common—the shady avenue.—High banks—hedges—and green
pastures.—The blackbird, hare, and pheasant.—The windmill.—The
miller—The mishap.—The countryman.—The errand woman.—The
group of children. —The shower.—The public-house.—The pot-house.—
The setting sun.

OW pleasant are country rides and drives, and what de-
lightful country pickings they set before you! Freed
from the dust and pebbles below you, and from all the
fatigues and vexations of the turnpike-road pedestrian, you
luxuriate in the prospects far and near. Standing up in
your gig, or if on horseback in your stirrups, you peep over
hedges and walls, and into farm-yards and interesting places,
with which those who trudge it have no chance of becoming
acquainted ; now slowly ascending the wooded hill, or steep
ascent to the open common, and now dashing along the level
road under the shady avenue at full speed, doubting not that
your horse, and almost including your gig also, is as happy
as yourself. Who does not like country rides?

There is life, animation, and excitement in the spirited
courage of your horse, and in the rapid whirling of your
gig wheels. However far you have to go, you arrive at your
destination pleased and delighted, the very pink of perfec-
tion and wall-flower of content, fresher than when you set



COUNTRY RIDES AND DRIVES. 13

out, whereas the poor pedestrian may reach home, hours
afterwards, foot-sore and discontented, having undergone
vexation enough to sour his temper for the rest of the day.

How pleasant are country rides and drives! Now we
stop the gig to pluck a beautiful wild flower growing on a
high bank just within our reach, and now we drive up close
to the side of a hedge to gaze on the sheep with their tink-
ling bells, and the cattle reposing in the green pasture-lands
beyond. Here a blackbird, seen in the retired lane, sud-
denly disappears in the brake ; there a timid hare starts from
her form in the furze bush; and yonder, heavily and some-
what majestically, rises the fair-plumed pheasant in the air.
Flowers, hedges, meadows, fields, cows, and sheep, black-
birds, hares, and pheasants, all have an interest in our eyes.

At one time we pass a windmill, and enter into friendly
conversation with the miller, who is just coming out with his
cart loaded with sacks of flour; whether we should do the
same thing if we met him in Bond-street, I cannot say,
however we are ready enough to converse with him now.
He turns out to be a shrewd, companionable man, and we
oblige our horse, a fine-built sleek-hided spirited animal, of
course, good in his appearance, paces, and everything else,
to accommodate himself to the pace of his rougher com-
panion, whom our friend the miller praises to the skies.

Of course we gain much information respecting the mill,
and the farm-houses in the neighbourhood, and the nearest
market, and the lanes and woods, and then turn off upon the
miller’s recommendation, to the left, where soon the road
branches out, as all country roads do, in different direc-
tions. We foolishly take the narrowest, for without some
mistake, or some little disaster, even a country ride or drive
would lose much of its interest. The road suddenly bends
to the left, in a way sufficiently circular to admonish us not



14 RURAL PICKINGS.

to pursue it, unless we desire to return once more to the
windmill. Cooped up more narrowly than we like, with a
fine, luxuriant, dry, green ditch on either hand, we do our
best to turn round our vehicle—we succeed in getting into
one of the ditches, and almost in being overturned, though
we do not succeed in turning round the gig. Our horse is
ardent to go forwards, but instead of this he is compelled to
go backwards to the branching off of the lane, which so
chafes and exasperates him, that he plays us many a prank
in return.

On we go again—now in & deep hollow way, and now on a
hill. Now our horse’s hoofs scatter the loose stones in places
where the road has been mended, and now our wheels rumble
over the wooden bridge. Nor do we fail to excite some
attention ; a countryman touches his hat as we whirl by
him ; an errand-woman laden with her full basket, mop and
broom, drops us a courtesy; a group of children give over
their. play to admire us; a mother hastily snatches up
her bairn by one arm, lest it should be Juggernauted, and
the stone-breaker by the way-side suspends his clinking,
honours us with his especial regard, and resumes his labour
only when we are out of sight.

And now it begins to rain, why should it not! Many
worse things in the world than a shower! and this is just
such a shower as it should be; just enough to frighten us
with the prospect of wet coats and saturated gig cushions ;
just enough to freshen up the trees and hedges with a deeper
green; and just enough to make us enjoy, ten times more
than we otherwise should, the sunshine that is about to
follow. We pity the poor, half-drowned, draggled-tail pedes-
trians that we pass, and draw a comparison much in our
own favour. ‘The rain at last ceases, the sun breaks out,
and we dash on merrily, forgetting our troubles, pulling up



COUNTRY RIDES AND DRIVES. 15

after a delightful ride, at a way-side public-house, the Royal
Oak, where all is cleanliness and comfort. The hostler,
as if he expected us, stands ready to take our steed; we are
won, at once, by the civility of our host and hostess. We
cannot make it out why eggs and bacon are always so much
better at a public-house than at home, and we wonder how
the landlord can “make both ends meet,” charging as he
does so unreasonably reasonable.

How different is the clean, comfortable public-house, on
_ which we have happily lighted, to the pot-house we remem-
ber to have seen.

There sots and drunkards in their brawls,
Have pulled the plaster from the walls,
And ale and gin, and potent fume

Of vile tobacco, scent the room.

There orange-peel is freely spread,

And nut-shells crack beneath the tread ;
And shattered furniture express
Debauch and riot and excess.

Torn all to tatters and unclean

The last week’s news perchance is seen,
With benches in disorder laid,

A door be-chalked with debts unpaid,

A table flooded o’er with beer,

A broken jug and backless chair,
Unclean spittoons, a spill-can stored
With brimstone matches, and a board
For cribbage and back-gammon’s game ;
A ceiling smoked with candle flame ;

A pack of cards dispersed around,

The knave of clubs upon the ground,
Where broken pipes together vie,

And songs and saw-dust mingled lie.
Filled with tobacco yonder stands,
Receptacle of filthy hands,



16 RURAL PICKINGS.

A box, whereon some son of rhyme
Has thus inscribed his verse sublime,
« A halfpenny pay before you fill,
Or forfeit sixpence, which you will.”

We leave the public-house, the home-brewed ale has
warmed our hearts, the corn has given courage to our horse.
Again we are on the whirl! How pleasant are country
rides and drives! All disagreeables turn to pleasures ; the
freshness of the air, the glowing west, the sounds that meet
us at every turn, the farm-house, hay-field, meadow, dell
and hollow, with the old hovel and crooked crabtree—all
have separate charms as we hasten by them.

We have freely parted with a few sixpences, for a girl
has opened for us a gate, a boy has picked up our whip, and
sundry others have directed us in our course; We have
hurried and loitered, and stopped and proceeded, as the
whim prevailed, till the sun is setting in all his glory.
On we go, crossing the long shadows of the trees; the
night-breeze is beginning to rustle among the leaves, and
distant objects seen against the red glare of the western
sky look dark, and near, and present a distinct outline.
On we go; in another hour the picture we gaze on will be
illumined no longer; even now

“ Heaven unbinding her star-braided hair
Sinks down to repose on the earth and the sea,”

How pleasant are country rides and drives !



1a

CHAPTER IV.



FARM-HOUSES AND FARMERS,

Contrast between a country farmer and a city tradesman.—F arm houses.

—Stone walls.—Gables.—Pointed roofs.—High and heavy chimneys.—
Oaken door studded with iron.—Porch fitted up with settles—A
farmer’s homestead, fold-yard, and rick-yard.—Rural picture by Pratt.—
The farmer and his visitor—Howitt’s description of farm-houses and
farmers.—The dinner party.

‘THERE is this striking difference between a farmer, and

a town or city tradesman, that while the latter makes
present sacrifices for a future advantage, the former enjoys
the best things of life as he goes along. The tradesman
will put up from youth to age with small premises, bad air,
scanty meals, and late hours, that he may hoard up wealth,
all which time the farmer is living in a large house, and
enjoying health, peace, plenty, fresh air, pure water, sun-
shine, green fields, singing birds and flowers. Parks and
palaces, and large libraries, and learned men, and picture
galleries, and squares and carriages, and gay equipages he
wants not; and if he have not the follies, the finery, and
the wonderful sights of the city, he reads about them in the
newspaper and laughs at them. Give him his friend, his
jug of brown ale, his pipe, and the “ Farmer’s Journal,” and
he is as happy—aye, and a great deal happier—than
the Lord Mayor at the Mansion House. True, he is a

c



18 RURAL PICKINGS.

«country bumpkin,” and a “clodhopper,” and he knows
that he is called so, and repays the joke with usury ; for
never do the walls of his kitchen, or of his snug smoking
parlour, ring with a heartier roar, than when he is laughing
at ‘those chaps, the kid-gloved, silk-stockinged, dandified
men-milliners of the city.”

I never look at a farm-house, whether it be a substantial
puilding of old gray stone, with no end of odd gables and
pointed roofs, and stacks of high and heavy chimneys; or of
moss-grown brick, looking as ancient as stone ; whether it
have windows with stone mullions and diamond panes, an
oaken door studded with iron, and a porch fitted up with
settles ; or is somewhat more modern in its general appear-
ance, with its rick-yard, fold-yard, stables, barns, sheds,
granaries, piggeries, and poultry-pens ; I never look at such
a building, without taking it for granted that the farmer
who lives there, whether he be tall or short, stout or slender,
is a blunt, honest, hard-working man, independent in his
spirit, tenacious in his opinion, open as daylight, and un-
bounded in his hospitality. .

A farmer’s homestead of the better sort, with its spacious
fold-yard of clean straw, and its ample rick-yard of wheat,
barley, oats, beans, and hay, is certainly a heart-gladdening
sight—a horse-prancing, cattle-lowing, pig-squealing, turkey-
gabbling, poultry-cackling prince of a place, and the farmer
is just the very man that ought to own such an establish-
ment. But, though this is the case, the poet and the
philanthropist cry aloud—and they say with some reason
against large farms; and the former paint lovely rural
pictures of times gone by, that are framed, if not glazed,
and hung up in memory’s hall. Such a one is the follow-
ing, painted by Pratt, in his “ Cottage Pictures :'—



FARM-HOUSES AND FARMERS. 19

Time was, when twice ten husbandmen were fed,
And all their wholesome progeny found bread,
And a soft home, each in his modest farm,

By tillage of those lands, and raiment warm ;
Then took at plough the son and sire their turn,
The wife then milk’d the cow, and work’d the churn ;
And many a mile the daughter trudged with ease,
To vend her butter, chickens, eggs, and cheese ;
And, home returning, heavy laden, brought

Full many an article at market bought ;

And though she bow’d beneath her basket’s weight,
Would blithely sing the country maiden’s fate ;
And haply too, the swain, who ambush’d lay,

To ease her load, would join her on the way :
Well-pleased was he, that useful load to bear,

Yet saw, with fond presage, the damsel’s care :

Of future helpmate there good signs were shown,
And, as he smiled, he mark’d her for his own ;
Whisper’d his wish to share her toils for life,
Purchased the sacred ring, and call’d her wife. .

Nor came she portionless, nor to his arms
Brought only innocence, and native charms,
Though love’s blest wealth—but kin, on either side,
Enrich’d the bridegroom, and endow’d the bride !
Of kine a pair to each, of sheep a score,

The parents furnish’d from their well-earn’d store ;
A waggon one, and one a team bestow’d,

While from the heart’s pure source each love-gift flow’d :
Of linen, too, a stock, and spun at home ;

And a best bed, to deck the nuptial room ;

The quilt and curtains by the matron wrought,
And nothing but the wood and ticking bought ;
From their well-feather’d flock the pillows down,
And all the toilet ornaments their own :

The polish’d looking-glass and pictures gay,

For parlour, used alone on holyday,

c 2



20 RURAL PICKINGS.

Or Christmas time, or merry-making sweet,

When the kind landlord deign’d to share the treat 5
And joy’d to see the harvest-barn was fill’d,

And felt at heart how well his farm was till’d :

His little farm, which ease and health display’d,
And happy tenants, happy landlords made.

The farmer is fond of a visitor, and he loves to walk
over his lands with him, and show him his stock, and talk
of his drainage, his grass, his turnips, and his growing corn ;
and this he does with the most perfect civility and good
humour, though any one accustomed to read human cha-
racter cannot help seeing that he undervalues his guest if
he happen to be ignorant of farming. With the currier in
the fable, nothing was “ like leather ;” and with the farmer
nothing is like farming. He will enjoy your company, if you
make yourself agreeable ; laugh at your jokes, if you have
any to crack; and listen to your pook learning with respect, if
you carry him out of his depth ; but in the midst of all, you
are evidently deficient in what a man ought to know. What
can a man be good for who knows not how to grow a turnip?

William Howitt—and here, though he be unknown to
me, let me offer him a word of honest praise ; for whether
roaming the stormy fields of Culloden, Flodden, and Edg-
hill—visiting Hampton Court and Stonyhurst—indulging
a rapturous reverie at Tintagel—strolling through Staffa
and Iona, Bolton Priory, Coombe Abbey, and Walton Hal?
_carried away by the architecture of Winchester, the
associations of Stratford-on-Avon, and the retired loneliness
of Compton-Winyates, or revelling in rural scenery, the
same clearness of intellect, elasticity of spirit, and ardent
love of nature, art, and antiquity are in him ever visible—
William Howitt, than whom a more truthful or more
graphic writer on rural scenes is not to be found, says :—



FARM-HOUSES AND FARMERS. ' 2a

“There is no class of men, if times are but tolerably
good, that enjoy themselves so highly as farmers. They
are little kings. Their concerns are not huddled into a
corner as those of the town tradesman are. The farmer's
concerns, however small, spread themselves out in a
pleasant amplitude, both to his eye and heart. His house
stands in its own stately solitude ; his offices and outhouses
stand round extensively, without any stubborn and limiting
contraction ; his acres stretch over hill and dale; there his
flocks and herds are feeding; there his labourers are
toiling ; he is king and sole commander there. He lives
amongst the purest air and the most delicious quiet. Often
when I see those healthy, hardy, full-grown sons of the soil
going out of town, I envy them the freshness and the
repose of the spots to which they are going. Ample, old-
fashioned kitchens, with their chimney-corners of the true,
projecting, beamed, and seated construction, still remaining ;
blazing fires in winter, shining on suspended hams and
flitches; guns supported on hooks above, dogs basking on
the hearth below; cool, shady parlours in summer, with
open windows, and odours from garden and shrubbery
blowing in; gardens wet with purest dews, and humming
at noontide with bees ; and green fields and verdurous trees,
or deep woodlands lying all round, where a hundred re-
joicing voices of birds or other creatures are heard, and
winds blow to and fro, full of health and life-enjoyment.
How enviable do such places seem to the fretted spirits
of towns, who are compelled not only to bear their burthen
of cares, but to enter daily into the public strife against
selfish, evil, and ever-spreading corruption.

‘* When one calls to mind the simple abundance of farm-
houses, their rich cream and milk, and unadulterated butter,
and bread grown upon their own lands, sweet as that which



22 RURAL PICKINGS.

Christ broke, and blessed as he gave to his disciples; their
fruits ripe and fresh-plucked from the sunny wall, or the
garden bed, or the pleasant old orchard ; when one casts
one’s eyes upon, or calls to one’s memory, the aspect of
these houses, many of them so antiquely picturesque, or SO
pright-looking and comfortable, in deep retired valleys, by
beautiful streams, or amongst fragrant woodlands, one can-
not help saying, with King James of Scotland, when he met
Johnny Armstrong :—

‘What want these knaves that a king should have ?’

« But they are not outward and surrounding advantages
merely, which give zest to the life of the farmer. He is
more proud of it, and more attached to it, than any other
class of men, be they whom they may, are of theirs. The
whole heart, soul, and being of the farmer are in his pro-
fession.

“The farmer invites his friends to dine with him. He
will have a party. The guests have been enjoined to come
early, and they come early with a vengeance. They will
not come as the guests of night-loving citizens and aristo-
erats come, at from six to nine in the evening ;—no, at ten
and eleven in the morning you shall see their faces, that
never yet were ashamed of daylight, and that tell of fresh
air and early hours. Then come rattling in sundry vehicles,
with their cargoes of men and women ; lively salutations
are exchanged ; the horses are led away to the stables, and
the guests into the house, to doff great-coats and cloaks,
hats and bonnets, and sit down to luncheon. And there it
is, ready set out. ‘They Il want something after their
drive,’ says the host. ‘To be sure,’ says the hostess.
And there is plenty in truth. A boiled ham, a neat’s
tongue; a piece of cold beef; fowls and beef-steak pie ;



FARM-HOUSES AND FARMERS. 23

tarts and bread, cheese and butter; coffee for the ladies,
and fine old ale for the gentlemen.

“The dinner hour arrives; and a sound of loud voices
somewhere at hand announces that our agricultural friends
are returned punctually to their time, with many a joke on
their fears of the ladies’ tongues. Not that they seemed to
want any dinner—no, they made such a luncheon; but
they had such a natural fear of being scolded. Well, here
they all are; and here are the ladies,_all in full dress.
“Hands that have been handling prime stock, or rooting in
the earth, or thrust into hay-ricks and corn-heaps, are
washed, and down they sit to such a dinner as might satisfy
a crew of shipwrecked men. There are seldom any of your
‘wishy-washy soups,’ except it be very cold weather, and
seldom more than two courses; but then'they are courses !
All of the meat kind seems set on the table at once. Off
go the covers, and what a perplexing, but unconsumable
variety! Such pieces of roast beef, veal, and lamb; such
hams, and turkeys, and geese; such game, and pies of
pigeons, or other things equally good, with vegetables of all
kinds in season—peas, potatoes, cauliflowers, kidney-beans,
lettuces, and whatever the season can produce. The most
potent of ale and porter, the most crystalline and cool water
are freely supplied, and wine for those that will. When
these things have had ample respect paid to them, they
vanish, and the table is covered with plum-puddings and
fruit-tarts, cheesecakes, syllabubs, and all the nicknackery
of whipped creams and jellies that female invention can
produce. And then a dessert of equal profusion. Why
should we tantalise ourselves with the vision of all those
nuts, walnuts, almonds, raisins, fruits, and confections ?
Enough that they are there; that the wine circulates—



24 RURAL PICKINGS.

foreign and English, port and sherry, gooseberry and dam-
son, malt and birch, elderflower and cowslip; and loud is
the clamour of voices, male and female. If there be not
quite so much refinement of tone and manner, quite so
much fastidiousness of phrase and action, as in some other
places, there is at least more hearty laughter, more
natural jocularity, and many a

‘Random shot of country wit,’

as Burns calls it. A vast of talk there is of all the country
round; every strange circumstance; every incident and
change of condition, and new alliance amongst their mutual
friends and acquaintances, pass under review. ‘The ladies
withdraw, and the gentlemen draw together ; spirits take
place of wine, and pipes are lighted.

“ But after tea there must be a dance for the young, and
there are cards for the more sedate; and then again, to a
supper as profuse, with its hot game, and fowls, and fresh
pastry, as if it had been the sole meal cooked in the house
that day. The pastor and his company depart ; the wine
and spirits circulate ; all begin to talk of parting, and are
loth to part, till it grows late ; and they have some of them
six or seven miles to go, perhaps on a pitch-dark night,
through by-ways, and with roads not to be boasted of. All
at once, however, up rise the men to go, for their wives,
who asked and looked with imploring eyes in vain, now
show themselves cloaked and bonnetted, and the carriages
are heard with grinding wheels at the door. There is a
boisterous shaking of hands, a score of invitations to come
and do likewise, given to their entertainers, and they mount
and away! When you see the blackness of the night, and
consider that they have not eschewed good liquor, and per-



FARM-HOUSES AND FARMERS. 25

ceive at what a rate they drive away, you expect nothing
less than to hear the next day, that they have dashed their
vehicles to atoms against some post, or precipitated them-
selves into some quarry; but all is right. They best know
their own capabilities, and are at home, safe and sound.

‘Such is a specimen of the festivities of what may be
called the middle and substantial class of farmers; and the
same thing holds, in degree, to the very lowest grade of
them. The smallest farmer will bring you out the very
best he has; he will spare nothing on a holiday occasion ;
and his wife will present you with her simple slice of cake,
and a glass of currant or cowslip wine, with an empresse-
ment, and a welcome that you feel to the heart is real, and
a bestowal of a real pleasure to the offerer.”



<= pe—

CHAPTER V.

———
ON BIRDS, FLOWERS, AND OTHER THINGS.
Sunbeams and sunny scenes.—Tall trees.—The upland lawn.— Morning,
mid-day, and sunset.—The cuckoo, lark, thrush, blackbird, and night-

ingale.—Field flowers. —The heath-flower.—Animals and reptiles.—
Death of a spider.—Sketch in a retired lane.

AND are you really yearning for the calm, the beautiful,
and the delightful? Away then to the country; the
healthy, the pure, the lovely country! Mountain and valley,
hill and slope, river and rivulet, spring and torrent, wood
and down—these, though always varying, are still the same.
“They come forth in the morning as fresh and as beautiful
as on the day of their creation ; their loveliness is eternal,
they are all the handiwork of God, who said that they were
good, and they are good.”

If you love sunbeams, and sunny scenes, and rainbows,
and green and sere leaves, and mossy banks and gushing
waters, and moonlight walks, the country is the only place
where you can enjoy them. There you may revel unwearied
with pleasure, and unsated with varied sweets. To the
country we may say, as we would to a dear friend whom we

love,
| While years in quick succession flee,
Whate’er my end and aim,
While seasons change around, to thee,
“ Je suis toujours le méme.”

Have you never stood among a group of tall trees, and
looked upwards, your eyes wandering in the intricacy of



ON BIRDS, FLOWERS, AND OTHER THINGS. Q7

dark sprays, and of green boughs fluttering in the wind, till
you have longed to be a squirrel, a bird, a bee, or any other
of God's lesser creatures capable of revelling in the leafy
labyrinth above you? If you have not done this, I have
done it repeatedly.

If you have never walked on the upland lawn when sun-
rise with its gorgeous glory has awakened joyous and enthu-
siastic emotions—never sought the shade and shelter of the
wide-spread oak, when the southern sun has flung around
his unbearable beams, gilding the heavens and the earth
with his glory—and never gazed on the western sky glitter-
ing in all the effulgency of the retiring orb of day, feeling
it, enjoying it, revelling in it, till excited with evstasy you
have clasped your hands in thankfulness, and offered the
incense of your heart to the great Giver of sunshine and
sunny thoughts, then you can hardly conceive the delight
that such scenes have the power to call up in the mind.

What a strange sensation of deep-seated joy is that when,
the sun shining gratefully on the rejoicing fields and foliage,
the first note of the cuckoo is heard in the sprig! what by-
gone seasons does it recal! what sweet associations it
awakens !

“ Thrice welcome, darling of the spring !
E’en yet thou art to me
No bird ;—but an invisible thing,
A voice, a mystery !

The same whom in my schoolboy days ;
I listened to :—that cry

Which made me look a thousand ways
In bush, and tree, and sky.

To seek thee did I often rove
Through woods and on the green,

And thou wert still a hope, a love
Still long’d for, never seen.



28 RURAL PICKINGS.

And I can listen to thee yet ;
Can lie upon the plain,

And listen till I do beget
That golden time again.”

Of all the day-singing birds, the lark has the first place in
our affections. His matin song impetuously gushes from
his warbling throat, as though his little heart had more hap-
piness pent up in it than he could bear. Up! up! he goes
as near heaven as he can reach, and had he strength of
wing equal to his ardour, he would present his thanksgiving
at his Maker's throne.

The speckled-breasted thrush, and the blackbird, are
masters of song, and hymn their happiness most harmoni-
ously. Oh, what a robbery would it be to the country to
take away either its fruits, its flowers, its green leaves, or
its singing birds !

We owe much to linnets, bull-finches, gold-finches, and
starlings, for their carolling and daily madrigals, and some-
thing to our favourites the robin and the wren, whose har-
mony is pleasant to our ears. These favoured musicians being
chartered from injury by the hands of man, put confidence
in us, and thereby win our love.

Sparrows, kingfishers, and buntings, with the larger
birds, ravens, rooks, crows, magpies, owls and daws, are not
highly talented in voice, yet are their several notes full of
interest in particular situations. What would the brook be
without a kingfisher ? the grove of elms without a rookery
or crow’s nest ? the barn without an owl? or the church-
spire without a daw? The first of singing birds among us is
the nightingale, and very delightful is her plaintive strain.

«“ Sweet bird, that shunn’st the noise of folly,
Most musical, most melancholy !

Thee, chantress ! oft, the woods among,
I woo to hear thy evening song.”



ON BIRDS, FLOWERS, AND OTHER THINGS. 29

What sweet associations are oftentimes blended with field
flowers! I love the woodbine, and the dog-rose, and the
foxglove, and the corn-flower, and the poppy, but more than
all I love the heath-flower! The purple heath-flower is
associated with a moon and a mountain; a sweet cottage,
by-gone seasons of joy, a book-case ornamented with trellis-
work of brass wire, the portrait of a bard, the sound of a
piano, a mild-looking child, with soft and influential eyes,—
talent, worth, and kindness.

And it breathes of other things to me ;

Of mountain air, and of liberty ;

Of tower, and tree by lightning riven ;

The storm, and the warring wind of heaven ;
Of mossy cairn, and cromlech grey ;

Of mad’ning sounds of feud and fray ;

Of stern contention, hope forlorn,

And banner rent, and tartan torn.

Much might I say of hedgehogs, badgers, and cunning
foxes, hares, rabbits, and half-starved weazels, rats, ferrets,
and drowsy dormice, for in rural life they all perform a part,
as well as the flitting bat and the burrowing mole. Rep-
tiles, also, might be spoken of at length ; scaly snakes, yel-
low frogs, bloated toads, and long-tailed lizards, as well as
the unnumbered insects which abound,—armed hornets,
honey-bees, and stinging-wasps, cockchaffers, glow-worms,
beetles, gnats, and shining dragon-flies, but I will merely
now describe the death of a spider.

The day was a stormy one, for the wind blew in sudden
gusts, while the drenching rain descended without inter-
mission. In passing near a small recess, in part occupied
by a wooden spout, erected for the purpose of conveying
the water from the top of the house into the water-course,



30 | RURAL PICKINGS.

I observed a spider, which had incautiously ventured from
his safe retreat behind the spout. I paused, as with diffi-
culty he dragged himself along towards an oyster-shell,
beneath whose friendly shelter I expected to see him crawl.
Hardly had he strength to reach the shell, for the drops of
rain struck him s0 frequently, knocking him first on one
side, and then on the other, that he was, indeed, in a
pitiable case. Though I pitied, I could not relieve him ;
on he went, weak and staggering, towards the shell.

I have seen horses reel and fall when the death-shot has
passed through their foreheads, and witnessed the stagger-
ing steed, when the pointed weapon has found its way to
his heart: the staggering spider reminded me of these
things. True, the horses were large, and the spider was
small; but the struggle was the death-struggle in both
cases. The oyster-shell was half full of. water, and the
staggering insect, instead of crawling beneath it, ascended
sts side. There was now no hope of escape; he paused a
moment, was again struck by the rain, once more exerted
all his strength to move onward, and then fell into the
watery pond in the oyster-shell, where he was drowned.

I cannot refrain from here introducing a sketch in @
retired lane, by the pen of old Humphrey.

“There was a keen sense of the fair and beautiful in
nature, and a warm rush of grateful emotion, that made my
uplifted eyes swim again. I could not look on earth or
heaven, without being struck with the profusion, the almost
prodigality of goodness, manifested by the Father of
Mercies. ‘The earth was overhung with an azure canopy,
and clouds of dazzling white, edged with glittering gold.
In my walk mine eye had glanced around on @ distant
prospect of hills and plains, and woods and water, that gave
: back the sunbeam; while around me stood, at different



ON BIRDS, FLOWERS, AND OTHER THINGS. 31

distances, the venerable oak, the towering elm, and the
romantic fir ; but I had now entered the shady lane, where
in my pathway, and almost beneath my feet, glowed the
yellow-blossomed furze bushes, absolutely dazzling me with
their yellow glories.

“My very delight became painful to me, through its
excess ; nor can I hope to impart a sense of my emotions
to one altogether a stranger to such feelings. Every object
appeared as a picture, not executed by the puny pencil of a
mortal being, but painted by the almighty hand of the
Kternal.

“There I stood, bending over a furze bush, as if I had
never gazed on one before. Through its interstices might
be seen the brown and faded parts of the shrub, with here
and there a ladybird, with its hard red wings, dotted with
black, crawling among them; but on the upper part, its
myriads of fresh green thorns were studded with almost
an equal number of pure and spotless flowers, spangled
with dew-drops. It seemed as if the blooming, beaming,
and almost blazing bush, had been called into existence
and clothed with beauty to give me pleasure! It was
regarded by me as a gift from the Father of Mercies, and I
stood over it with a heart beating with thankfulness.

“A little farther on, the long, straggling branches of the
blackberry bramble hung down from the high hedge: the
sight was a goodly one, a perfect picture: the fresh green
leaves, mingled with others somewhat sere ; the red-coloured
stems, with their white-pointed thorns, short, hooked, and
strong ; the fruit partly unripe, green, and red; and partly
ripe, rich, juicy, and black as ebony, waiting to be gathered.
The melons and pines of the banquetting board coyld not

have surpassed, in my estimation, the bounteous feast that
was thus spread before me.



32 RURAL PICKINGS.

“The next object was a hawthorn bush, entangled in
whose long spiky thorns grew a wild rose, rich with scarlet
hips. The parsley-shaped leaves of the bush, the ten
thousand red bright berries that adorned it, together with
the wild rose, was another picture glorious to gaze on.

«“ Close to the hawthorn bush sprang up a wild young
plum-tree, gorgeous with a profusion of colours; for the
sharp night air and the bleaching winds had changed the
verdure of its leaves, so that faded green, yellow, ash-
colour, white, red, and deepest purple, vied with each other.

« Below the plum-tree, and close against the bank on
which the hedge grew, stood a thistle, four feet high. It
was a glorious plant: such a one that, if thistles were not
common, would be transported to the gay parterre, tended
with care, and exhibited with pride; yet there it was, with
its pointed leaves and purple flowers, now blooming unno-
ticed, save by my admiring eyes.

«At the very foot of the thistle grew luxuriantly the
romantic-looking fern-root: divide it as you may, to the
very last its fragments bear a resemblance to the whole
plant. It gave a character to the spot, for, in my estima-
tion, it is one of the most elegant plants that grow. A
spider had woven his filmy web across it, thus imparting to
it an additional charm.

«Twas absolutely bewildered with the amazing freshness
and beauty of every object around me. I cast a hurried
glance on the furze-bush, the bramble, the hawthorn, and
the wild rose; the plum-tree, the thistle, and the fern; |
looked up to the snowy clouds in the blue sky, and the
language of my heart and soul was, ‘ O Lord, open thou
my lips, and my mouth shall show forth thy praise.’ ”



|
|



a ae

CHAPTER VI.

pen

THE COUNTRY BOY.

Variety occasioned by the seasons in rural objects and occupations.—
Approach of summer.— Advantage of good temper.—The country boy.
—He swings to and fro on the gate, and eats his bread and bacon.—
The pocket-knife.—Light-heartedness.—The fine ladies.—The country
boy’s rural knowledge.—Speculations on his future prospects.

AS @ fire cannot be kept up without fresh fuel, neither
can enjoyment be continued without fresh sources of
pleasure. In this respect the change produced by the
seasons on rural objects, and rural occupations, is a greater
blessing than is usually supposed. Hardly do I know
which would be the greater trial, to be ever in the sun-
shine, or always in the shade. Pleasant as are the flowers
of spring, and the sun of summer, we could but ill spare
the fruits and sere leaves of autumn, or the bracing air of
frosty winter. |
I have been rambling in the fields, breathing the fresh
air, listening to the singing birds, gazing on the bright
blue sky, and enjoying the hilarity of creation ; for at. the
approach of summer, Nature seems to hold a sort of
rejoicing festival; true it is, that we have not yet the
ripened fruit on the tree, nor the golden grain upon the
ground ; but we have the promise of them both; and the
sun-lit vault above us, the balmy breeze around us, with
D



34 RURAL PICKINGS.

the green leaves, buds, blossoms, flowers, birds, bees, and
butterflies, that animate and beautify creation, delight the
eye, the ear, and the heart. = ~

I suppose that my ramble has given a freshness to my
feelings, and made my pulse beat with a healthier throb ;
for 1 certainly seem to be sn better temper than ordinary.
Oh, what an abundant source of enjoyment is good temper !
and what a continual cause of trouble is ill temper. The
one is sunshine, the other is shade ; the one is honey, the
other is vinegar; the one is harmony, the other is discord.
Were all the people in the world, young and old, good
tempered, life would resemble a holiday, much more than
it now does. Good-tempered people are not only happy,
put they make other people happy 100 ; while such as are
ill-tempered do much towards rendering those around them
as miserable as themselves.

Some people run into the error of supposing good temper
to consist mainly in playmg off silly jokes, and in relating
laughable stories ; but these have nothing whatever to do
with it, An ill-tempered man may do these, and a good-
tempered man may do very well without them. temper 1S & healthy cheerfulness, that looks on the sunny
side of every circumstance that happens, and takes the
yough things of life, as well as the smooth, with a good
grace. Good temper is at ease, when ill temper is in @
rage. Good temper preathes the gentle breeze, while ill
temper is blown about by the whirlwind.

Hardly do I know which is the most unlovely, an ill-
tempered boy, or an ill-tempered old man. I have a perfect
dread of ever becoming the latter. What! after partaking
of unnumbered blessings from my earliest youth, to become
peevish, ill-tempered, and repining! ‘The very thought is

hateful to me. Though not highly-favoured in point of



THE COUNTRY BOY. 35

temper, I love good temper with all my heart, and can —
hardly separate ill temper from sin: fain would I in my
latter day show forth, more than at any former period of
my life, the sober cheerfulness of my spirit, and the thank-
fulness of my heart. How little we deserve, how much we
receive! A becoming temper and a grateful spirit should
be visible in our thoughts, our words, and our deeds !

E’en like the glowing sun, that flings

A glory on terrestrial things ;

Would I, where’er my feet are found,

In cheerful light and life abound,
And shed a grateful influence round.

In the country there are ever to be found points and
pickings of human character, of a different. kind to those we
observe in the city. The country boy and the town boy
are different beings, and the aged rustic and the grey-
headed mechanic can hardly be compared together.

Let me tell you of a little country lad that I once saw,
in one of my rambles, sitting on a ricketty gate by the
highway side; for not soon shall I forget the chubby rogue,
who was the very picture of independence. He reminded
me of Bunyan’s shepherd boy in the Valley of Humility,
who had more of the herb called heartsease in his bosom
than those who were clad in silk and velvet. The young
urchin seemed to breathe the air of that happy valley ; he
was, indeed, bred in it, and that. was the reason his eye was
so bright, his cheek so red, and his heart so merry.

He felt the glowing, gladdening sun,
And feared nor shade nor shower,

Nor past mishap, nor future ill—
His was the present hour!

It must have been just such another boy as he, who
once was asked, as the story goes, what he would do if '
D2



36 RURAL PICKINGS.

were aking? “Eat fat bacon and ride upon a gate,” was
his unhesitating reply. Now the boy before me was in full
possession of these enjoyments, without the incumbrance of
a crown; for as he pushed open the swinging gate, by
placing his feet against the post, one of his hands held the
fag end of a piece of bread and bacon, while the other
clutched an uncouth pocket-knife, on which a cutler might
have blushed to have seen his name. In truth it was not

“ Sheffield made in haft and blade ;”

but that did not lessen its value, for its happy possessor
was altogether ignorant of the surpassing productions of
the Yorkshire hardware town. His hobnailed shoes were
old and clouted; but they answered his purpose, for they
were useful, if not ornamental ; he knocked them against
the gate, in the gaiety of his heart, and whistled when his
mouth was empty. He had, no doubt, seen soldiers march
with, perhaps, a recruiting sergeant at their head, and with
whistling and shoe-music he tried to imitate the spirit-
stirring sounds of the fife and drum. His ragged clothes
would have suited a scare-crow, fluttering as they did in
the wind. Had I met a company on the highway, clad as
he was, I should surely have said to myself,

“ The beggars are coming to town .

but the lad had a lighter heart than broadcloth ever be-
stowed on those who are “ buttoned to the chin” in Spanish
wool doubly dyed. I will be bound for it that he had not
a farthing in his pocket to change for gingerbread, but the
huckster’s window was far away, and no longings tantalised
the young rogue. Now and then he chaunted fragments of
a homely ditty, in strains that to me were musical, for they
were the outpourings of a happy heart.



THE COUNTRY BOY. 37

Some ladies, visitors I suppose at the Great House on
the hill, clad in gay attire, and rustling in silks and
satins, passed by the very gate: he saw them coming, but
did he hide himself behind the hedge, abashed at the sight
of them; or hang down his head, ashamed of his ragged
jacket? Not he. His elevated position was maintained,
and from it he looked saucily down on silken splendour.
He did not even remove his tattered hat, and though he
was scornfully regarded by the fair ladies, he compre-
hended not the meaning of their looks, but whistled
louder than before, enjoying the sight of gay garments, as
though they were purposely put on for his amusement.
Manners he had not been taught, and was, as yet, unop-
pressed by the awe of the world.

But though his manners and his modesty were in so
small a compass, he was not without his points; for as a
naturalist he would have ranked with Buffon and Linneus,
far above fifty of your bowing and scraping skippers of the
counter. The birds that fled within sight were narrowly
watched by him, and, no doubt, he thought of their nests,
and wished that he knew whereabout they were, that he
might empty them of their eggs, sucking their yolks, and
stringing their shells on a bent of grass.

He knew the habits of the wheeling hawk, that he saw
spirally ascending, before he hovered stationary in mid air;
and could have given a shrewd guess as to the moment
when, with closed wings, the bird would pounce down on its
prey. He was proud, too, of what he knew of the feathered
race, and would have laughed you to scorn had you called a
hawk a kite, a rook a crow, or indeed given any other
names to birds than those contained in his nomenclature.

He knew where blackberries and nuts grew thickest,
and was a clever searcher among the hazel boughs. He



38 RURAL PICKINGS.

could have brought you, at few minutes’ notice, the
sourest sorrel from the bank of the field, and the freshest
water-cress from the prook. He could climb a tree, make
a whistle from the withy bough, and a pop-gun from
an elder slip. Young as he was, those clouted shoes had
often made the football rebound, and the holes in the knees
of his tattered trowsers proclaimed him to be a “ dabster
at taw.” ‘These are but a part of the many rustic acquire-
ments, that sweeten the leisure hours of the country boy 5
while we, with superior knowledge, sigh at scenes that
would make him smile; and with greater foresight, groan at
coming events, which cannot check his laughter.

While I regarded the country boy, @ tattered companion
approached him, sending his voice on before, when friend-
ship brought down our hero from his perch. He gave up
the gate for a companion, and together went the two play
fellows, hastening towards some favourite haunt, with mirth-
ful antics and unrepressed laughter ; leaving me, not alto-
gether without a suspicion of being the object and subject
of their mirth; for while the young urchin occupied the
gate, he surveyed me, more than once, with a leer from the
commer of his eye, and likely enough, as he walked away, he
was at my expense making his playmate merry.

And now let us ask, what part on the “world’s wide
stage” will be performed, in future years, by the country
boy? Will he, with his hard hands, apply himself to
honest labour, or become familiar with the bludgeon and
the airgun? Will he be skilful at the plough and the
reaping-hook ? or expert in setting traps and gins, in fol-
lowing the craft of a poacher, in grappling with game:
keepers, and in shedding human blood? Will his clear
brow ever be wrinkled with sinful thoughts, and his brain
become fertile with fell expedients ? Will he sullenly



THE COUNTRY BOY. 39

skulk in the darkness to set the Squire’s barns and ricks in
a glare, and end his‘days on a gallows, or be transported as
a felon to a distant land? Away with such gloomy fore-
bodings! the cawing and croaking of the rooks and crows
above me must surely have given birth to them; let us
adopt a healthier tone of feeling, and a more cheerful view
of things.

Let us suppose that the country boy will fall into good
hands, get a little schooling, and walk in upright ways. —
Why not? Why should he not be taken notice of by some
honest-hearted farmer, who adopts the motto, “‘ Hard work
and good wages?” Yes, yes! He will see the advantage of ©
good conduct, tread in the steps of those who set him a
good example, and, as he adds to his years and strength,
rise in the good opinion of his employer. And now, if we
give him a neat cottage, a pleasant garden, an affectionate
and industrious wife, two or three healthy children, and a
bible, we give him the elements of as much—aye, of more
happiness—than he would enjoy by being made Lord
Mayor of London.

BRR





CHAPTER VII.

—_——-@—

A FEW WORDS ABOUT OLD HOUSES.

New attractions given to rural scenes.—Interesting spots no longer to be
identified. Old houses.—Fragments only of their history to be obtained.
—Way in which they are occupied.— Elizabethan old English manor-
houses.—Terraces, balconies, halls, chambers, furniture, tapestry, and
paintings.—The armoury and associations it calls forth.— Wolverley
Court.—Tradition.

DELIGHTFUL as rural scenes are, they are rendered

much more so by circumstances of a favourable kind.
The society of an agreeable friend gives new attractions to
the sweetest spot, and the knowledge that some remarkable
event took place there, clothes with additional interest the
most entrancing scene.

It is really afflictive to think of the many spots of an
interesting kind, which now can no longer be identified,
and of the many goodly old houses, whose history is in-
volved in obscurity. How many old, antiquated mansions
are there scattered through the country, about which their
present tenants know nothing. Their ancient proprietors
resided in them in all the rigid state and rude hospitality
of bygone days; but their descendants no longer inhabit
them, nor any one interested in their history. You may
find, perhaps, in the chancel of the neighbouring churches
a few monuments in black or white marble, inscribed with



A FEW WORDS ABOUT OLD HOUSES. 4]

the names of these ancient worthies ; and the villagers are
not without some wild and improbable tales of the Hall,
handed down to them by their forefathers, but for the most
part, no more than these scanty records can be collected by
the passing stranger. As you look on one of these vener-
able mansions, and think of the different inmates that have
occupied it, you are forcibly reminded of the remark of the
Dervis to the King—“ Ah, sire! the dwelling that changes
its guests so often, is not a king’s palace, but a caravansera.”

Now and then may be seen houses of this kind, on a less
ample scale, uninhabited, yet partially occupied. The
neighbouring farmer is the tenant, and he knows little, and
cares less, about carved chimney-pieces, and tapestry, and
family portraits; but the old house is useful to him; he
has put a cottager in one end of the crazy dwelling, erected
a shed in the court-yard, under which he keeps his carts,
and waggons, and ploughs, and harrows; the hall is turned
into a lumber room, and the very chamber where Sir
Edward and Dame Dorothy his wife slumbered in peace, is
occupied as a granary.

Old mansions, however, there are, yet tenanted by the
descendants of their original proprietors. You have seen,
perhaps, many a real Elizabethan old English manor-
house ; grey, weather-stained, faded, and venerable. You
have walked along its trim terraces, and leaned on its
carved balconies and sculptured balustrades. A thrill of
strange interest has run through your frame when pacing
its spacious halls, its echoing passages, and door-ways with
gloomy arches. You have surveyed thoughtfully the heavy,
lumbering, unwieldy furniture; the large, antique sofas,
covered with flowered damask; the upright, long-backed, low-
seated chairs, with their arms and legs ribbed and black ;
the grotesque shapes and grinning faces of the uncouth



42 RURAL PICKINGS.

carved figures, dim and doubtful as they appeared in the
dubious light; and the high, canopied, crimson damasked
curtained beds. You have trodden softly on the old, dark,
slippery oaken floors; you have gazed awfully on the faint
and worn tapestry, crowded with stiff, stalking personages,
large as life, and felt, when looking at the stern-faced
paintings, as though the entrance of the owner's grand-
father’s grandfather, gliding in through some moveable
pannel of the wainscotting, or from behind the arras, was 4
thing far from improbable.

Kneller and Sir Peter Lely are not yet departed, for they
live in the painted beauties of the reign of Charles, that
still adorn these olden mansions. The lustrous eye, the
peachy cheek, the antiquated dress are there ; and the
mail-clad baron frowns from his oaken frame. You have
seen the wide hearth in the hall, the gilded hatchment,
and the stag antlérs on the walls, and the pointed and
groined projections from the roof above.

You may be a lover of peace, but the armoury has made
you feel like a warrior. First, you have taken a glance of
awe and wonder at the profusion of helms, and hauberks,
and hard habergeons, and suits of armour gambuised, and
mail, and plate, plain, fluted, black, bronzed, graven, inlaid,
and embossed. Then you have regarded a single suit,
from the steel clog to the skull-cap ; sabatynes, greaves,
“euisses, breech-mail cuillettes, cuirass, vambraces, rere-
braces, gauntlets and helmet, lance, sword, dagger, and
shield.

You have wondered that men had strength enough to
move and mount their steeds, and fight with such a weight
of harness on their backs; and a brazen helm and coat of
mail have brought before you the figure of Goliath of old :—

« And there went out a champion out of the camp of the





A FEW WORDS ABOUT OLD HOUSES. 43

Philistines, named Goliath of Gath, whose height was six
cubits and a span. And he had a helm of brass upon his
head, and he was armed with a coat of mail, and the weight
of the coat was five thousand shekels of brass. And he
had greaves of brass upon his legs, and a target of brass
between his shoulders. And the staff of his spear was like
a weaver’s beam, and his spear’s head weighed six hundred
shekels of iron; and one bearing a shield went before him.”

A strange confusion of dates and personages has no
doubt taken place in your mind; for clubs and maces, and
hammers and battleaxes, and buff coats, and huge boots
and spears, and matchlocks and petronels, and inlaid pistols,
were hung round the walls, and you could not clearly
remember when gunpowder was invented, and when armour
was set aside.

You thought of the heroes of Homer; the knights of
Spenser’s Fairy Queen ; the old Crusaders, the Howards
and Essexes; the Warwicks and the Wiltons ; the Doug-
lasses and the Percys; and were, at, last, bewildered and
lost among castles and convents, battles and tournaments,
pageants and pilgrims, the Black Prince, the wars of York
and Lancaster, the Holy Land, and the Tourney of the
Field of Cloth-of-Gold. |

Once more you have gained the court-yard, and the
spirit of old times has come over you. Centuries have
flown back, and the rigid state of other days has surrounded
you. Knights were harnessed for the tourney, and the
balcony was crowded with “ladyes fayre.” Or the rude
and rough riders of bygone days, with their dogs and _hog-
spears, were about to beat up the woods, and rouse from
his shadowy hiding-place the shaggy and bristly boar. Or
the hawking party was about to go abroad; manly forms
and figures of feminine beauty were mounted on steeds,



44 RURAL PICKINGS.

with ringing horns, and jingling bells, and falcons, with
their hoods and jesses. Or the mumniers and merry
maskers were dissipating the tardiness and gloom of night
by their strange gambols in the high-roofed hall, lit up
with sparkling faggots and flaming torches.

As poets describe the scene—

In days of yore the gladsome day was spent

In joust and tournament, and courtly glee :

Then, castle roofs re-echoed with the peal

Of midnight revelry and festal mirth.

Oh, what a glorious time was that to live in !

When knights were faithful, ladies true and fair ;
When pageantry and pleasure hand in hand

With innocence, danced through the circling hours !
Where grief, and pain, and guilt were never known :
And all was loyalty, and life, and love !

But was it so? Too closely question not

The fairy dreams of gay, romantic youth !

He that from records of the past would draw

A portrait fair of frail humanity,

Must be content, with hurried glance to pass

O’er blotted pages of distress and grief,

And many a painful paragraph of crime.

Men were, of olden time, as they are now,

The slaves of passion, pride, and follies vain.

Many years ago, I remember spending some time at
Wolverley Court, Worcestershire. Wolverley, anciently
called Ulwardelei, Wlwardeley, Wlverslawe, and Whfres-
lowe, is. in the division of the hundred of Oswalddeslaw,
and the deanery of Kidderminster.

“The most ancient family in this parish was that of the
Attwoods, sometimes called from the Latin, de Bosco, andfrom
the French, de Bois. One of this family had considerable
estates in Kidderminster, Rushock, Nordwyke, Worcester, and



A FEW WORDS ABOUT OLD HOUSES. 45

other parts. Their arms were a lion rampant, seizing on a
conquereddragon. Afterwardsthey bore a lion queue furchée
(or with double tail), which, as the lion’s strength con-
sisteth much in his tail, denoteth a double force. The arms
are often seen with an abbot’s mitre on the lion, denoting
that one of that family was Abbot of Evesham. The heiress ©
of Attwood married Beauchamp, and the arms were painted
in the church of Holt. In the reign of Henry the Sixth
the Attwoods were escheators of the county, justices of the
peace, and esquires of the better sort. The Attwoods were
great benefactors to the church of Worcester. Abel Att-
wood, Gent., and eldest son of Henry Attwood, Esq., late of
Wolverley Court, being the last male heir of that elder
house, died Oct. 8th, a.p. 1726, aged 66.”

To the above account, which is extracted from Nash’s
folio edition of Worcestershire, I shall subjoin a tradition
which has long passed current at Wolverley. As Wolverley
Court was for some time uninhabited, the tradition lost
somewhat of its interest and influence; but many of the
elder inhabitants of Wolverley have pleasure in dwelling on
the miraculous relation, which they assuredly believe to
be true.

I had the following relation from the lips of an aged
tenant of Wolverley Court, while she occupied the mansion.
The fetters mentioned in the story were then hanging over
the window, and it would have been considered an offence,
almost unpardonable, to have doubted for a moment the
miraculous story.

‘‘ During the time of the Crusades, one of the ancestors
of the Attwood family resided at Wolverley Court. Engaging
in the Holy War, he divided a ring with his lady, in token
of remembrance, and crossed the seas. Being made a
prisoner, he was confined for many years in a Turkish



46 RURAL PICKINGS.

prison, from whence he was occasionally taken, like Samson
of old, to furnish amusement to his enemies. On the eve
of a certain festival, having a fearful expectation that he
should again be called forth to endure the cruel derision of
his tormentors, he prayed earnestly that God would deliver
him from his enemies, and permit him once more to see
his native land. On the morning he found himself within
a few miles of his own mansion, reclining in a ditch with
his fetters and chains by him, where he was discovered by a
servant; the servant knew him not, but an old dog fawned
upon his master. Making himself known, he made in-
quiries after his lady. His hair and beard were much
grown, and his appearance so altered by his imprisonment,
that his lady did not know him ; but when he produced
the part of the ring which had been broken between them,
she was convinced. He passed the remainder of his life at
Wolverley Court, and lived retired, like a hermit. The
place where he was found in the ditch at Horsley is called
Park Attwood to this day. The carved figure of a dog
was placed in Wolverley church, but is now removed; but
the fetters, as you see, still hang over the drawing-room
window of Wolverley Court.”



SKOOL »

CHAPTER VIII.

eee Q pean

THE ASCENT OF MOUNT MUCKLESTONE.

Turning natural scenery toa good account.—Perseverance a valuable quality.
—Ascent of Mount Mucklestone.—The solitary traveller.— Lake
Crystal—The rock gives way, and the traveller falls—Steepness of
Mount Mucklestone.—The second accident of the traveller.—The
cavern.—The ridgy ledge.—The traveller loses his footing, and rolls
over the arch of the cavern—The escape.—The summit gained.—
Remarks.

[T is one of the many objects I have in view in these

Rural Pickings, to sprinkle freely my rustic descriptions
with good feeling and kindly suggestions that may be turned
to account. Hills and valleys, woods and waterfalls, fields
and flowers, ponds and brooks, will only be the more beau-
tiful if we can get from them aught that will dispose us
more gratefully to enjoy, and more patiently to endure; aught
that will nerve our hearts in danger, knit us more closely to
those we love, and call forth kindly emotions for all around.
What if we could wander for ever amid daisies and
daffodils, breathe nothing but fresh air scented by violets,
and hear nothing but the singing of larks and the murmur-
ing of waterfalls! dreaming away our lives in listless ease
and unenviable uselessness! A generous heart and a kindly
spirit would shrink from such selfish enjoyment ; but when
we turn the fair things of creation to account by improving



48 RURAL PICKINGS.

our own hearts, and connecting our own good with the good
of others, we obtain a healthier, if not a holier, gratification.

There are very few qualities of more value than that of
perseverance in the different positions and relations of life ;
those who possess it have, as it were, in most undertakings,
Success written on their foreheads ; while those who possess
it not have but a poor prospect of obtaining their ends.
The cavern of Antiparos is deep, but Perseverance descends
to its lowest recess. The Alps are high, yet Perseverance
places its foot on their cloud-capt heads.

You have heard of Mont Blanc, and have read that it is
one of the highest mountains of the Alps—

“ Snow piled on frozen snow the mass appears,
The gather’d winter of a thousand years,”

lifting up its giant head more than seventeen thousand feet
above the level of the sea. What romantic and sublime
varieties of beauty are presented by mountainous scenery !
The grand and the grotesque, the stern, the sterile, and
the arresting, with all that 1s lovely and attractive, are
to be found among its solitary recesses, its craggy ridges,
its rugged rocks, and its jagged peaks.

“ High the Alpine summits rise,

Height o’er height stupendous hurld ;

Like the pillars of the skies,
Like the ramparts of the world.”

The ascent of Mont Blanc has ever been considered an
achievement of no ordinary kind. It has been boldly
undertaken, and gallantly executed, by many, with more or
less difficulty ; but under the most favourable circumstances,
the enterprise has required resolution and perseverance,
and ever been attended with great danger. If you have
ever read of the ascent of Mont Blanc—



THE ASCENT OF MOUNT MUCKLESTONE. 49

* Monarch of the scene, —
Mightiest where all are mighty,”

by Paccard, Saussure, Beaufoy, Jackson, Clarke, Sherwell,
Barry, Waddington, and others whose adventurous feet
have attained its summit, you must, in a degree, have
drunk into their ardour, admired their perseverance, and
been moved at one time by fear, and at another with
delight. The timid may blame the rashness of jeopardising
life: and the prudent may inquire, what useful end is
attained by the accomplishment of such enterprises? but
some allowance must be made for those who unite with an
adventurous disposition an ardent love of natural scenery.
To see the sublime creations of the wonder-working hands
of the Eternal, and to communicate that knowledge, which
is otherwise unattainable to mankind, are not of themselves
censurable objects. But now, having said so much of Mont
Blanc, I must draw your attention to the ascent of another
eminence, which I myself witnessed with an intensity of
interest. : 3

It was in the summer of 1844 that a solitary traveller
arrived at Lake Crystal, at the foot of Mount Muckle-
stone. The scene was of an imposing kind, and many
would have been arrested by its romantic beauty, but the
traveller hastened on towards the mountain, winding along
between the grotesque, craggy fragments, twenty times his
height, which having rolled down from the mountain, lay
seattered around the borders of the lake. For some time
he was partially hidden by these irregular masses of rock,
but soon after he emerged from them, and began to ascend
the base of Mount Mucklestone, close to the water, carrying
with him a rope for protection! and assistance. Hardly had
he ascended his own height, when a part of the rock above
him, rolled down, bearing him with it into the lake. Un-

E



50 RURAL PICKINGS.

daunted by his accident he regained the shore, and again
began to climb.

Between the lake on the left, and the trees of various
kinds which towered above him on the right, the traveller
zig-zagged his way up the craggy steep, until he had gained
a considerable height, and here dangers began to thicken
around him. ‘True it is, that no slippery glacier lay beneath
his feet, and no threatening avalanche hung over his head,
but then he had no guide, and had eminences before him,
untrodden by the foot of man! The face of the mountain
up which the traveller slowly climbed, was diversified with
stony strata of varied colours, a kind of red granite, and
grey limestone at different points appeared to prevail, while,
here and there, trees whose slenderest branches were thicker
than the traveller's body, sprang from the rifts and fissures
of the steep ascent.

One of the greatest impediments in ascending Mount
Mucklestone, is its extreme steepness, it being at a certain
height, for the most part perpendicular, so that, were it not
for its projecting ledges, the face of the mountain to the
north would resemble a mass of masonry. Nor is the diffi-
culty arising from the variable nature of its surface to be
disregarded, for while one part appears to possess the firm-
ness and solidity of marble, another loosens and crumbles
down at the slightest touch, falling into the lake below.
Who has ever seen a mass of stone fall from a giddy
height, precipitating itself on the rocks, or plunging head-
long into the deep waters below, without a sensation of
terror ? |

After attaining a shelf of rock somewhat broader than th
other ledges he had trodden, the traveller proceeded cau-
tiously, for the shattered crag up which he had to toil was
—Joose. Already had he mounted three or four times his



THE ASCENT OF MOUNT MUCKLESTONE. 5]

height, when the crag, to which he clung, gave way, and
down he rolled on the broad shelf below. Had not this
shelf of rock interposed, he must have been, once more, pre-
cipitated into the lake. Short was the pause that this
accident occasioned, and again the. traveller renewed his
efforts with better success.

At a point, which is more than midway up the steep,
there is a cavern of such dimensions, as to occupy no incon-
siderable part of the mountain. The projecting arch of this
cavern gloomily frowns on the precipice below, looking
down upon Lake Crystal. A ridgy ledge of. rock running
regularly up one side of the cavern, and leading to its
summit, appears to afford the only footing for an adventurous
aspirant. With undaunted intrepidity, and without the least
hesitation, the traveller took the rough and ridgy pathway,
if such it might be called, which overhung the precipice,
and slowly laboured up the steep, hardly allowing himself a
moment's respite. Once he paused, as though unable to
proceed, and twice his foot slipped, but he recovered himself
and toiled on. .

After much fatigue, he attained the summit of the ridgy
path, but, scarcely had he paused on the archway, that
crowned the mouth of the cavern, when he lost his footing,
and alas! rolled over. It was well for him, that he had
fastened his rope to a jutting part of the crag; clinging
tenaciously to this, he swung for an instant to and fro, over
the mouth of the fearful void. Above him were the craggy
heights, the summit of which he could not see, on account
of the beetling brow of the cave, and beneath him yawned
an abyss, of a depth almost equal to a thousand times his
height.

Why, traveller, didst thou take the dangerous track? Why
did thy reckless foot essay a path of such imminent peril ?

E2



52 RURAL PICKINGS.

The steadiness and self-possession of the traveller in his
perilous position were admirable. It is not in common
cases an easy undertaking to climb up a rope, but the tra-
veller was accustomed to exploits of this kind, and inured
to danger. For one moment he remained immovable, but
the next, he slowly ascended the rope. What if his strength
had failed him; or his brain had turned giddy; or the rope
had broken? Let us not think of it!

Having once more gained a footing on the arch of the
cavern, he proceeded onwards with mingled caution and
determination. Sometimes he met with dangers, which it
was necessary to avoid, and now and then, he had occasion
to retrace his course, but, finally, by perseverance in defiance
of all dangers, and in despite of all difficulties, he gained
the summit of Mount Mucklestone.

And now let me admit, that, in drawing this sketch of
- the ascent of Mount Mucklestone, I have taken the liberty,
which an artist always takes, of representing my picture on
the scale best suited to my purpose. My scale has been a
large one. I have amused myself, and I hope somewhat
interested you. Mount Mucklestone is the rocky side of a
stone quarry. Lake Crystal, at its base, is a spring, and
the adventurous traveller was a diminutive spider.

Is there any reason why a lover of nature, should not
admire the minute, as well as the vast? and gaze on the
side of a stone quarry with delight, as well as on Mont
Blanc? When it pleases the Almighty Creator of all
things, to concentrate in a few square yards, as much beauty
as can be discovered in as many square miles, may we not
gaze on his wondrous handywork with delight, and ought we
not to adore him with unfeigned thankfulness ?

And is it right, think you, that we should bound: our ad-
miration to human qualities? Ought we not to admire



THE ASCENT OF MOUNT MUCKLESTONE. 53

sagacity in the elephant, fidelity in the dog, industry in the
bee, and perseverance in the spider? If aught on which
the eye can gaze, enhances our love and admiration of our
Great Creator, or binds us with kindly affections to his
creatures, be assured it is worthy of our regard. Consider
this aright, and you will feel somewhat indulgent to the
account I have given you, of the ascent of Mount Mucklestone.

There is something so truly disgraceful to draw back, and
something so truly noble, in the face of difficulty and danger,
to persevere in a praiseworthy undertaking, that I would
willingly derive an illustration from any source, if, by it, I
could call up in others and myself a spirit of perseverance.
Whether we look at the traveller ascending Mont Blane, or
at the spider climbing Mount Mucklestone, the lesson
before us is the same; difficulties and dangers are to be
overcome by perseverance.

But however exciting and encouraging it is to see, or to
hear, of instances wherein perseverance attains its object in
the more public, and more glaring enterprises of life, such
instances are often not equally honourable to humanity, as
others of a more secluded kind. ‘To do or to suffer, when
the world is looking on, ready to mete out its honours and
rewards as the recompense of success, is comparatively easy,
but to persevere in doing and suffering in a good cause, when
no eye is open to admire, and no hand is extended to re-
ward, requires qualities more exalted. These are the
qualities we should strive to possess.

We are naturally attracted by the actions of heroes and
heroines, for these are held in high esteem, and kept before
the public eye; but there are heroes and heroines in private
life, who, unrecompensed and unknown by the world, go on
to the very grave, patient and persevering. Rather would
I rank my readers among these, than inscribe their names “



hy | RURAL PICKINGS.

in monumental marble as the sackers of cities, and the
conquerors of distant lands.

Perseverance is a noble quality, that may be practised in
private, as usefully as in public. We may never be called
on to ascend Mont Blanc, to discover the source of the
Niger, nor to visit Timbuctoo, but to persevere in useful-
ness, benevolence and virtue is a noble undertaking, an
enterprise that would not derogate from the character of an
angel. Let us then persevere, neither dismayed by dan-
gers, nor overcome by difficulties ; for, as I said before, the
Cavern of Antiparos is deep, but perseverance descends to
its lowest recess. The Alps are high, yet perseverance
places its foot on their cloud-capt heads.



ae

CHAPTER IX.

meet

COTTAGES AND COTTAGERS.

Cottage of Mother Hollins——Mother Hollins’s cat.—The Wanderer.—
Cottages of the poor and of the rich.—Our cares increase the value of
our comforts.—Cottage children.—A cottager’s love of natural beauty.
Trials and afflictions of cottagers.—Poor Widow Gill, and her wayward
Son.

LIKE to look at cottages, cottagers, and cottage children,

for there is so much simplicity about them all, that
they dispose the heart to peace and contentment. That
cottage on the little slope yonder, with the garden and
orchard of pear-trees, belongs to good Mother Hollins, a
simple-minded, honest creature, as ever spun a ball of flax,
or mended a pair of lambswool stockings.

Look at Mother Hollins’s cat travelling across the mea-
dow! I wonder where she has been wandering so early
this morning, and now she has to go back through the
_dewy grass. See how she shakes her paws as she takes
them up and looks as if she did not know when or where to
put them down again. Now she stops and stares around,
with her great eyes, to see, I suppose, if there be any other
way. No, pussy! you are in for it, and on you must go.
You take good care to hold your tail out of the wet, but you
cannot keep your whiskers from the dew-drops. That is



56 RURAL PICKINGS.

right! Another good jump or two will soon bring you to
the end of the field. I dare say that Mother Hollins’s
tea-kettle is singing by the fire, and that her cup and saucer
are placed ready for breakfast, so that you will not lose
your drop of milk.

Mother Hollins is fond of her cat, having brought it up
from a kitten. Oh! it was a dear, little mischievous
thing then, pulling up the daisies in her small garden ;
jumping at the weight of the cuckoo clock; tangling the
worsted ball belonging to her knitting, and scratching under
the tattered cushion of her arm-chair. Good Mother Hol-
lins, though she liked not to see the weight of her cuckoo
clock swinging so furiously from side to side, nor the heads
of her red and white daisies lying scattered on the ground,
bore all this very patiently, for she knew that pussy was
unconscious of doing any harm, and that her frolicsome
days would not last for ever.

Ay, and Mother Hollins was right, for Pussy is now as
grave and sedate as any tabby in the parish. You may
generally find her stretching before the fire, sitting in the
window, climbing up the pear-tree, or perched upon the
garden wall, purring in the sun, with her tail curled round
her legs. The other day as she sat on the old stone wall,
Jem Painter, who was passing by with his terrier dog,
pulled her down backwards by her tail, and set his dog on
her, an ill-natured trick by which he got no good, for his
terrier had a well-clawed nose, and he himself a couple of
sharp lashes, from the whalebone whip of John Fowler, who
came up at the time with his waggon. See! Pussy has
scrambled up the garden wall, leaped down inside the gate
into the little court, and scampered into Mother Hollins’s
cottage with her tail in the air.

Mother Hollins’s dwelling is just the place to set one



COTTAGES AND COTTAGERS. 57

who lives in a garret in the town, sighing after a cottage in
the country. It is just such a dear, sweet, little home-
stead as Campbell had in his eye, when he penned the
following beautiful lines :—

“ And, mark the wretch, whose wanderings never knew
The world’s regard, that soothes, though half untrue ;
Whose erring heart the lash of sorrow bore,

But found not pity when it err’d no more.

Yon friendless man, at whose dejected eye

Th’ unfeeling proud one looks—and passes by,
Condemn’d on penury’s barren path to roam,
Scorn’d by the world, and left without a home—
Even he at evening, should he chance to stray
Down by the hamlet’s hawthorn-scented way,
Where, round the cot’s romantic glade are seen
The blossom’d bean field, and the sloping green,
Leans o’er its humble gate, and thinks the while—
Oh ! that for me some home like this would smile,
Some hamlet shade, to yield my sickly form
Health in the breeze, and shelter in the storm !
Then should my hand no stinted boon assign

To wretched hearts with sorrow such as mine !—
That generous wish can soothe unpitied care,

And Hope half mingles with the poor man’s prayer.”

The term cottage has varied significations. The cottage
of the’ poor is usually scanty enough in space and con-
veniences, and oftentimes it is little better than a wretched,
ill-provided, smoky,—raftered hovel or shed, while that of
the rich is, comparatively, a mansion, comprising numerous
apartments of comforts, and many luxuries. Those who live
in cottages for the poetry of the thing, trying to blend the
elegancies of high life with the simplicity of rural manners,
are deficient after all, in the principal elements of cottage
character. ‘Their wants and desires are anticipated; but



58 RURAL PICKINGS,

the cottager has his bread to win with hard labour, and he
is not without anxiety, how he shall feed and clothe those
who are dear to him. Now it is this labour, and this
anxious care and uncertainty, when not in excess, that
make his mouthfuls pleasant morsels, and add value to his
bits and drops. The lights of life without the shadows are
imperfect. By an all-wise and merciful arrangement, our
cares impart a value to our comforts—

“ And every want that stimulates the breast,
Becomes a source of pleasure when redrest.”

Toil sweetens repose; hunger gives a relish to our food,
and thirst renders the cool draught doubly pleasurable.

Cottages there are neat and clean, which in reality, and
not by way of poetic figure, may be called the abodes of
peace. There Health resides with lusty Labour, and Sim-
plicity and Contentment dwell together, but cottages, even
of the industrious, at the present day are sadly deficient in
the flitch, the gammon, and the cask of home-brewed beer
that once were “ plentiful as blackberries.”

Happily has the pen of William Howitt hit off the chil-
dren of the cottager. ‘‘ The girls help their mothers—the
labourers’ wives—in their cottages, as soon almost as they
can waddle about. They are scarcely more than infants
themselves, when they are set to take care of other infants.
The little creatures go lugging about great fat babies that
really seem as heavy as themselves. You may see them
on the commons, or little open green spots in the lanes
near their homes, congregating together, two or three
juvenile nurses, with their charges, carrying them along,
or letting them roll on the sward, while they try to catch a
few minutes of play with one another, or with that tribe of
bairns at their heels—too old to need nursing, and too young



COTTAGES AND COTTAGERS. 59

to begin nursing others. As they get bigger, they are
found useful in the house—they mop and brush, and feed
the pig, and run to the town for things; and as soon as
they get to ten or twelve, out they go to nurse at the farm-
houses ; a little older, they “go to service ;” there they soon
aspire to be dairymaids, or housemaids, if their ambition
does not prompt them to seek places in the towns—and so
they go on scrubbing and scouring, and lending a hand in
the harvest field, till they are married to some young
fellow, who takes a cottage and sets up day-labourer. This
is their life; and the men’s is just similar. As soon
as they can run about, they are set to watch a gate that
stands at the end of the lane or the common, to stop
cattle from straying, and there, through long solitary days
they pick up a few halfpence by opening it for travellers.
They are sent to scare birds from corn just sown, or just
ripening, where

They stroll, the lonely Crusoes of the fields—

as Bloomfield has beautifully described them from his own
experience. They help to glean, to gather potatoes, to pop
beans into holes in dibbling time, to pick hops, to gather
up apples for the cinder-mill, to gather mushrooms and
blackberries for market, to herd flocks of geese, or young
turkeys, or lambs at weaning time; they even help to
drive sheep to market, or to the wash at shearing time ;
they can go to the town with a huge pair of clouted ancle-
boots tied together, and slung over the shoulder—one boot
behind and the other before ; and then they are very useful
to lift and carry about the farm-yard, to shred turnips, or
beet-root—to hold a sack open, to bring in wood for the
fire, or to rear turfs for drying on the moors, as the man
cuts them with his paring shovel, or to rear peat-bricks for



60 RURAL PICKINGS.

drying. They are mighty useful animals in their day and
generation, and as they get bigger, they successively learn to
drive the plough, and then to hold it ; to drive the team, and
finally to do all the labours of a man. ‘That is the growing
up of a farm-servant.”

A cottage life seems to set forth that our real wants are
few, for little more than food and raiment does the cot-
tager possess, and yet, where do you find finer forms,
sweeter faces, and healthier constitutions than in cottages ?
Luxury never enters, and revelry is seldom heard there,
but lovely domestic scenes are lit up by the cottage ingle.

“If men did but know,” says Jeremy Taylor, ‘‘ what
felicity dwells in the cottage of a virtuous poor man—how
sound he sleeps, how quiet his breast, how composed his
mind, how free from care, how easy his provision, how
healthy his morning, how sober his night, how moist his
mouth, how joyful his heart—they would never admire the
noises, the diseases, the throng of passions, and the violence
of unnatural appetites, that fill the houses of the luxurious,
and the hearts of the ambitious.”

As the poor greatly outnumber the rich, and labour for
their benefit, they cannot under any sound system of prin-
ciple or policy be neglected. Man has no charter from
heaven to enjoy prosperity, and to leave his poorer brother,
who has helped him to obtain it, in adversity. In exercising
as a right, that which is in itself wrong, he may add to his
own selfish gratifications, but he must do it at the expense
of his integrity. The policy, philosophy, religion and legis-
lation that seek not the comfort, enlightenment, morality,
piety.and happiness of the poor, must necessarily be defec-
tive. Nations as well as families, and parishes as well as
individuals, should take heed to the words of Holy Writ,
“Blessed is he that considereth the poor, the Lord will



COTTAGES AND COTTAGERS. 61

deliver him in time of trouble.” Rural scenery, amid all
its passive cheerfulness, is ever impressive, and to the
reflective mind, full of practical admonitions.

“ The evening cloud, the morning dew,
The withered grass, the faded flower,
Of earthly joys are emblems true ;—
The glory of a passing hour!” .

There is that in the heart of man that loves adventure
and: rural scenery, and I verily believe that where dis-
honesty has made one poacher, a dozen have been made by
a love of the pursuit of wild creatures, and by the delight
experienced in night watching and roaming at liberty, with
a stimulating motive, the pathless woods and solitary glens.
After all, however, the garden of a cottager supplies him
with his safest out-door pastime, his most innocent and
productive enjoyment. This is his antidote to the brawling
beer shop, and an unfailing source of quiet pleasure.
Honour and profit to the farmer who by his industry sup-
plies his own homestead with plenty, and practises hospi-
tality; but double honour, and double profit be his, who
adds to the comfort of the labouring poor. May his “ barns
be filled with plenty,” and his “ presses burst out with new
wine !”

Akenside says—

“ Ask the swain
Who journeys homeward from a summer day’s
Long labour, why, forgetful of his toils,
And due repose, he loiters to behold
The sun shine gleaming as through amber clouds,
O’er all the western sky! Full soon, I ween,
His rude expression and untutor’d airs,
Beyond the power of language will unfold
The form of beauty, smiling at his heart :
How lovely ! How commanding! ”



62 RURAL PICKINGS.

Akenside to witness this scene, must have been more
fortunate than most of us. Never yet did I behold a cot-
tager, in the attitude of voluntarily observing, much less
admiring, the rising or the setting sun, yet do I not from
this draw the conclusion that cottagers and country people
have not the love of nature, and of natural objects in their
hearts.

A cottager'’s love of natural beauty is not expressed by
the excited start, the uplifted hands and eye-brows, nor by
the ejaculations “ beautiful! wonderful!” It blends with
his peaceful feelings, and becomes unknown to himself, a
part of his existence. This is proved by his restlessness
when in towns and cities, and by his yearnings after those
things, without which, though he has never burst into rap-
turous exclamations about them, he cannot be happy.

The same thing may be said of his affection for his wife
and children. This affection is not told in gazing on them,
and telling them they are angels, but in cheerfully toiling
for them, hour after hour, and year after year, in the dry
and the wet, the hot and the cold, the summer and the
winter. True he may be found dandling his little ones on
his knee, ‘and carrying them in his arms, but his love is to
be seen mostly in his labour, and in the wages that he
brings home to the partner of his cottage.

In my rural pickings I would not pass over without a
word, the simple and pathetic relations that are sometimes
given by cottagers, of the trials and troubles that cast a
shadow on the dwelling of the poor. Cottagers oftentimes
bear patiently and silently, what would fill the mouths of
many with continual repinings, and go on, labouring day
after day, enduring bodily afflictions that would consign the
rich to a sick bed and the doctor.

One has a blind father; another a bed-ridden mother. A



COTTAGES AND COTTAGERS. 63

third has a son who has turned out wild, and become a
wandering vagabond; or a daughter, once the light, the
life and sunshine of the cottage, is now an inmate of a
lunatic asylum: with all its peace and contentment, the
cottage has its cares. .

Poor widow Gill, who lives at the cottage by the com-
mon, had a son, the only one she ever had, and he went to
sea. Oh Harry! Harry! It is a bitter thing to forsake a
widowed mother, and bitterly, I fear, hast thou paid for it!
Harry went as cabin boy, on board the good ship Rover,
and soon after the Rover was “ missing.” Some say the
vessel was wrecked in the West Indies; others that she
was crushed by two icebergs.in the Frozen ocean. There
are reports, too, of her running adrift on the coast, among
the cannibals who slaughtered her crew, while it may be
that the ship was destroyed by fire. Whichever of the
reports may be true, widow Gill, at different times, believes
them all, and yet cherishes the fond hope, that Harry may
yet come back again. Years and years have rolled away,
but on stormy wintry nights the poor widow still watches
and weeps in her lonely dwelling, thinking of ships and
shipwrecked sailors.

The Rover is “missing ! ” her mariners sleep,

As we fear, in the depths of the fathomless deep ;
And no tidings shall tell if their death-grapple came
By disease, or by famine, by flood or by flame.

The storm beaten billows, that ceaselessly roll,
Shall hide them for ever from mortal control :

And their tale be untold, and their history unread,
Till the dark caves of ocean shall give up their dead



PSO

CHAPTER X.

—@——

ON SERVING-MEN, OR MEN-OF-ALL-WORK.

Usefulness of serving-men.—George Glossop.—His varied occupations and
great strength.—Proud of his talent in hair-cutting —George hives the
bees and plays the parts of farrier and butcher.—Harvest time.—Robert
Hadley.—Edwin Horton.—Old Samuel Green.—John Andrews.—
John’s occupations.—The garden, the stable, the carriage-house and the
cellar.—John Andrews always to be found when wanted.

Wuokver has moved about much in the country, with an
ordinary degree of observation, must have felt some interest
in the serving-men, or men-of-all-work, which are found in
different situations. This class of men are, I think, among
the most useful of any, and when integrity and skill are
united, as they frequently are, in their character, they can
hardly be too highly valued. Your labouring man pursues
his accustomed employment in the fields, varied only by the
change in the season; the shepherd attends to his flock,
and the cowherd to his cattle; they have their distinct
duties to perform, but your man-of-all-work, however occu-
pied, can. never tell in what he may be engaged the follow-
ing hour. This peculiar position ; this continual liability
to be called upon in all emergences and on all occasions,
makes him a man of resources. He who is expected to
turn his hand to everything, has need to understand every-
thing, but I must here indulge in a few sketches.



ON SERVING-MEN, OR MEN-OF-ALL-WORK. 65

A friend of mine, a gentleman of independent fortune.
lives in a village, where his neighbours are mostly farmers ;
he must needs, therefore, do a little in the farming way him-
self, and succeeds as most men do, who merely make an
amusement of that which requires great attention. He loses
money every year by agricultural pursuits, but annual losses
cannot make him relinquish farming. These losses puzzle
him nota little; for, as he takes credit with himself for being
a wiser man than his neighbours, he cannot account for his
want of success. When farmers turn gentlemen, or gentle-
men turn farmers, they very seldom reap any advantage by
the change.

George Glossop is his man-of-all-work ; his employments
are varied, and he is seldom kept long at the same kind of
labour. George is suddenly summoned in all domestic
exigencies ; whatever may be his work at the moment, he
leaves it, and obeys his call. Sometimes he is despatched
with parcels and carpet-bags to the nearest town, and car-
ries burdens more fitted for a horse than a man of moderate
strength ; but he laughs at burdens that many would sink
under, and is proud of displaying the great strength he
possesses.

Lighter employment, too, is reserved for his ready fin-
gers, for George can clean boot-tops excellently ; fix a square
of glass when wanted in the kitchen windows; take a lock
to pieces, and put it together again; and cut hair: sometimes,
indeed, he crops the head of his master. He is very proud
of his acquirements; and once—but this was when he was
younger—he was about to leave his‘place, and seek his for-
tune in London, where he thought of succeeding as a hair-
dresser ; even now, when in his cups, he shakes his head,
and thinks he threw a chance away by neglecting to try his
fortune in the great city. But George is a shrewd fellow

»



66 RURAL PICKINGS.

when sober; he knows when he is well off, and will not leave
his place in a hurry. George taps the cider-casks, sets the
rat-trap, rings the pigs, and is a famous hand at carving
the heads of sticks. The bees once swarmed on a goose-
berry-bush by the garden-gate, and no one would venture
nea¥ them; but George swept them off with a wing into an
empty hive without fear. The great yard-dog was afflicted
with the mange, and no person liked to touch him, the
animal was so fierce and surly; but George tied the crea-
ture to a post, laughed at his growlings, and rubbed him
well with healing ointment. George is something of a far-
rier, too, and is disliked by the village butcher, because he
sometimes practises his occupation.

But it is at harvest-time that George is in his glory.
His daily allowance of cider, always ample, is then much
increased. He superintends the men hired to work at that
season of plenty, and enjoys his brief authority; for his
master asks his advice, and what George says is law at
harvest-time.

His master owns a field where the ground is very uneven,
and the loaded waggons totter dangerously, as they are
drawn along, upheld by labourers with supporting pitch-
forks ; but George directs their movements, and once, when
a waggon toppled over, his ready shout warned the rustics,
and prevented their being crushed by the falling load.

It would give you an appetite to see George at his meals.
He thinks more of quantity than quality at the dinner-table.
He is none of your nice ones. Plain dishes appear as
dainties to George Glossop,

“ George can get a job done better than his master; for the
labourers impose on the ignorance of the latter, as he often
discovers to his cost; but they cannot cheat his man-of-all-
work. They know very well that George’s skill is greater



ON SERVING-MEN, OR MEN-OF-ALL-WORK. 67

than their own, and slovenly work cannot pass under his
critical eye ; besides, he works with them, uses the same
implements, and is at once their overlooker and fellow:
labourer. |

A robust man is George Glossop ; he has not an ache or
pain about him. He loves a joke, and often whistles and
sings as he is at his labour. With the fine health he enjoys
he cannot choose but be cheerful ; his light-hearted laugh
is contagious, and those around will laugh with him.

George is ready to travel through lonely lanes at mid-
night, on foot, or on horseback, at his master’s bidding.
Though deep the mire he will go through, and rain and
sleet are defied by the hardy man-servant. His master
values his services, and would be sorry to part with him,
and George is likely to remain in his place, for he is, as I
said before, a shrewd fellow, and well knows that he has got
a kind and liberal master.

I might speak of Robert Hadley, of Edwin Horton, and
of old Samuel Green, as ‘each of them presents a distinct
variety in this species of man-servants; but as John Andrews
is a favourite of mine, I will give him the preference. John
values his place, the duties of which he has discharged many
years, and is justly estimated by those he serves, as a trust-
worthy and hard-working man.

John has the whole management of a large garden, in
which he takes much delight. His asparagus, peas, cab-
bages, and cauliflowers, are not to be surpassed, neither is
his onion-bed ever to be equalled. His flowers are superb.
There is nothing like them for miles and miles around.

In the stable are always three or four hackneys or carriage
horses under John’s care. Then there are the carriages in
the coach-house, which take up a great deal of time: plenty
of wheel-mopping, panel-cleaning, and harness-rubbing.

F 2



68 RURAL PICKINGS.

Add to these things the care of the cellar, with shoe-clean-
ing, clothes-brushing, marketting, driving the four-wheel
carriage, fetching and taking visitors from and to the neigh-
bouring town, errand going, and twenty other occupations,
and it will appear plain enough that John Andrews has no
time to be idle.

John is almost always in sight, or within hearing. If you
do not see him, you hear him talking with one of the servants ;
or digging in the garden; or watering the horses; or clean-
ing out the stable ; or tapping a cider-cask in the cellar; or
catching the young pigeons; or killing a rat in the duck-
pen; or mowing the garden-walk ; or clipping the hedge ; or
polishing a pair of boots; or brushing a great-coat; or
engaged in some other of his multifarious employments.

But the thing most remarkable in John Andrews is this,
that he is always ready at hand when wanted. It is a com-
mon saying of many, that if you want them they are sure to
be out of the way; but the reverse of this may be said of
honest John. I hardly ever knew such a thing as for his
services being required, and he not to be there to render
them. Send him of an errand, and call out ‘‘ John Andrews!”
ten minutes after, and you will find either that he has not
set off, or that he has been and come back agaip, just as if
he had anticipated that he would be wanted.

On twenty different occasions when I could have declared
that he was absent, has he proved himself to be present.
Only call out his name, and down the garden steps he will
come. He surprises me, too, by never being in a hurry.
Call him patiently or impatiently—as though you hardly
wanted him, or as if the house were on fire—there is no
delay in the one case, and no hurry in the other—wait one
minute and you will see John Andrews.

John has been ordered to a neighbouring town with a



ON SERVING-MEN, OR MEN-OF-ALL-WORK. 69

letter, he saddles and bridles the hackney he is to ride, and
you actually see him set off at a good sharp trot up the lane.
Presently he is wanted, and you hear his name screamed
aloud by one of the house-girls in the direction of the gar-
den. “Ay!” say you to yourself, “you may call for John
long enough, for by this time he is a mile or two off;” but
on going to. the window, you see John coming, just as usual,
leisurely down the steps from the garden into the fore court.
He was called back after you saw him set off; or, he over-
took a lad who was going to the town; or, he met the gen-
tleman'to whom the letter was directed ; or, some occur-
rence or other took place that enabled him to return to his
work in the garden, and to answer to the call when he was
wanted.

It is Sunday, and John, in his spruce blue coat, clean
gloves, and best brown leggings, the buttons turned round to
the front, brings to the gate the gig, or the four-wheeled
carriage. In you jump, and off you set, and after a sharp
run to the church, you expect to wait a quarter of an hour
for John; but instead of this, he is standing by the church-
yard gate waiting for you. He has come by @ nearer cut
across the fields, and is ready to hand you out, and to take
charge of the carriage just as usual.

During divine service, and even while the minister is
giving his blessing, you may see John in his customary seat
in one of the narrow pews—yet, when you arrive at the
churchyard-gate, there is John Andrews waiting with the
-carriage. Ay, and do which you like, walk, trot, or canter
back again, John Andrews will be there before you, without
any appearance of hurry.

There is to me a something that amounts to the myste-
rious in John Andrews being thus always in the way when
he is wanted. You may send him where you like, and the



70 RURAL PICKINGS.

distance may be small or great; but be sure of this, that he
will be back again by the time he is wanted. You shall
choose your own season—spring, summer, autumn, or win-
ter—your own day, except Sundays, from the first of January
to the last of December, and your own hour, from sun-rising
to sun-setting, whether the house be quiet, or full of com-
pany, and if you will only stand by the pigeon-house and
shout out ‘‘ John Andrews!” I will undertake that he will
appear. As sure as you have called out his name, so sure,
in one minute after, if you look towards the gate, you will
see, coming leisurely down the _" steps, the figure of
John Andrews !





CHAPTER XI.

——e-———

ON COUNTRY KINDNESS.

Sketch of spring.—The trees.—The birds.—The cattle-—The young colts.
’ —Children.—Grey-haired age.—Kindness.—The Duke of Portland and
his tenant.— Kindnesses and unkindnesses.— The rat-trap.— Kind
thoughts, feelings, intentions, words, and deeds.—A call on a country
friend.—Kindness to those who need it is of double value.

[ WILL speak of country kindness; but first let me give.
you a sketch of spring, not drawn with the pen only, but
with the eye and the heart.

It was spring; the sun was bright, and creation seemed
newly born, as though it had just burst into being. The
young branches of the trees shot upwards towards the skies,
seeking that heaven whose dews had watered them, and
whose soft breezes had nurtured them, as if to read a silent
and holy lesson to man. The earth appeared strewn with
flowers.

The children of nature rejoiced. Birds which had disap-
peared during the winter months, were now seen perched
among the green foliage of the trees, or skimming the clear
air alone, while those that had remained behind, seemed to
welcome the new arrivals with a song of ecstasy. The cattle
appeared to crop the fresh-sprung grass with a relish that
only fresh spring grass could impart; and the young colts



72 ' RURAL PICKINGS.

that had never seen a spring before, and were far too happy
to eat, kicked up their heels, whisked their tails, and gal-
loped round the pasture in their delight.

Children, little children, who had been cooped up for
months past, were now abroad in the arms of their nurses ;
while such as were a little older, were running about prat-
tling of daisies and primroses, laying up in their infant
minds scenes that would flash across their memory in after
days, when childhood, and childhood’s mirth, would be long
gone by. It was a time for joyous and pure and holy
thoughts, and for wishing to spend the rest of life with
peace and joy in the country, revelling among the beauties
of creation, and praising its Almighty Creator.

Age, with his grey hairs, was pacing to and fro; and Sick-
ness, with her sallow cheek, leaning on crutches, her tearful
eye raised heavenward, grateful for the sunbeam that fell
upon her, and for the balmy breeze that tasted like return-
ing health. Spring was, indeed, abroad ; the heavens were
lit up with sunshine; the earth teemed with happiness ;
and everything that had breath seemed to praise the Lord.

I hope you like my sketch: and now for country kindness.
In towns and cities people are so hurried, and have such a
world of things to do, that they seem hardly to have time
to practise kindness: it is not so in the country. There
kindness thrives like a tree, and grows, and buds, and blos-
soms, and bears fruit abundantly.

I love to meet with kindness in common life. Your high-
flying deeds of generosity that happened a long way off, and
a long while since, sound mighty fine in the ear, but they
hardly come home to the heart. The caliphs of Bagdad, if
what we read of them be true, flung about them their dia-
mond rings, and their purses of sequins, as freely as if they
had been pebble-stones, but these things do not speak to us



ON COUNTRY KINDNESS. 73

like commoner kindnesses ; they say not “ Go and do thou
likewise!” The following account of a kindness that much
pleased me, is related by a man of talent and integrity.

‘The Duke of Portland found that one of his tenants, a
small farmer, was falling, year after year, into arrears of rent.
The duke rode to the farm, saw that it was sadly deteriorat-
ing, and the man, who was really an industrious farmer,
totally unable to manage it from poverty. In fact, all that
was on the farm was not enough to pay the arrears.
‘John,’ said the duke, as the farmer came to meet him as
he rode up to the house, ‘I want to look over the farm a
little.’ As they went along, ‘ Really,’ said he, ‘ everything
is in a very bad case. This won't do. I see you are quite
under it. All your stock and crops won't pay the arrear in
rent. I will tell you what I must do: I must take the farm
into my own hands: you shall look after it for me, and I
will pay you your wages.’ Of course there was no saying
nay ; the poor man bowed assent. Presently there came a
reinforcement of stock ; then loads of manure ; at the proper
time seed, and wood from the plantations for repairing
gates and buildings. The duke rode over frequently. The
man exerted himself, and seemed really quite relieved from
a load of care by the change.

‘‘ Things speedily assumed a new aspect. The crops and
stock flourished: fences and out-buildings were put into
good order. In two or three rent days, it was seen by the
steward’s book that the farm was making its way. The
duke, on his next visit, said, ‘ Well, John, I think the farm
goes very well now; we will change again; you shall be
tenant once more. As you now have your head fairly above
water, I hope you will be enabled to keep it there.’ The
duke rode off at his usual rapid rate. The man stood in
astonishment ; but a happy fellow he was when, on apply-



74 RURAL PICKINGS.

ing to the steward, he found that he was actually re-entered
as tenant to the farm, just as it stood in its restored condi-
tion. I will venture to say, however, that the duke himself
was the happier man of the two.”

Now, believing (and I cannot but believe) this account to
be true, it does me good to think of it. There are those
who seem to think that none but great people can perform
great actions ; while others love to rail against those above
them, as though every lord and every duke was of necessity
a proud, parsimonious, flinty-hearted churl. These are mis-
takes that we ought not to fall into: there are bad and good,
hard-hearted and kind, in all degrees of life; and we ought
to give honour where honour is due, whether it be to the
rich or the poor. This act of kindness on the part of the
duke was performed with great discretion. Had he con-
tented himself with simply lowering the farmer's rent,
or forgiving him part of his debt, the man would, most
likely, have struggled on a little longer, and have come to
poverty at last.

Could the kindnesses of mankind be written in one
eolumn, and the unkindnesses in another, the latter would
no doubt make the longer catalogue. This ought not to be
the case; for surely there is more enjoyment in calling
forth a smile, than a frown; in binding up, than in bruis-
ing; and in gladdening another's heart, than in breaking
another’s head! ‘This remark will apply to all, but espe-
eially to Christians. Christianity without kindness is Chris-
tianity in disguise. A gentle child in a coat of mail, armed
with a spear, and an inoffensive lamb furnished with a
covering of porcupine’s quills, instead of a soft woolly fleece,
would be as much in character as a Christian with a churlish
spirit. To my mind, a waggon without wheels would
go along just as pleasantly as a Christian without kindness.



ON COUNTRY KINDNESS. 75

As shines the sun around on every hand,

And gilds with golden beams the sea arfl land ;
So a kind heart with kind emotion glows,

And flings a blessing wheresoe’er it goes.

I like to examine the thing that I value. The boy in the
fable, who killed his goose to get the golden eggs all at
once, was a greedy grasp-all for his pains; and he who cut
open his drum to look for the sound was no better than a
simpleton: these carried matters too far. But still, I do
like to examine the thing that I value, and to know of what
it is composed; for, in many cases, brass looks so much like
gold, and pewter so closely resembles silver, that unless we
pay to them more than ordinary attention, one may very
readily be mistaken for the other. It is just the same
in regard to kindnesses. Words and deeds which appear
unkind may be benevolence itself; and deeds and words
that have the semblance of kindness may, in reality, be the
bitterest cruelty. Reproof is unpleasant, and commenda-
tion is very agreeable; but it is kindness to reprove a fault,
and great unkindness to commend it.

It might appear rather unkind to dash from the hand of
any one the cup that he was raising to his lips; but if,
afterwards, it was explained that the contents of it were
poison, unknown to him who was about to drink, the kind-
ness of the act would be apparent. There are many
kindnesses of this description. The other day I saw a coun-
try friend bait a rat-trap: oh, how carefully did he cater for
the appetite of the long-tailed tribe! It was a “ dainty
dish” that he set before them; a tit-bit, to draw them from
their holes, and to furnish them with a delicate repast.
Any one not knowing the end for which this was done,
might have taken it for a deed of kindness, whereas it was.



76 RURAL PICKINGS.

the lure of death, the bait of destruction. ‘There are many
rat-trap kindnesses in the world.

Kind thoughts, kind feelings, kind intentions, kind words,
and kind deeds, are all delightful things ; and if their abun-
dance was equal to their scarcity, the world would be much
more like a paradise than it is. It would ill become me to
rail against the unkindness of the world, seeing that I have
hitherto met with so much more kindness than I have
deserved: but I speak comparatively ; for I cannot but
think, as I have before said, that could the kindnesses of
mankind be written in one column, and the unkindnesses in
another, the latter would make the longer catalogue.

An adventure that occurred to me last week, bears a little
on this subject of kindness. Yes, it was last week that I
called on a country friend, who paid me more than wonted
attention. This was observed by the domestics in waiting,
who instantly appeared to entertain for me all the respect
that was so evidently manifested by their master. They
seemed to have as much pleasure in bringing me refresh-
ments, as if they were intended for themselves ; there was
a forethought, a foresight, and an alacrity visible, that was
delightful. All my wishes were anticipated. Doors flew
open when I left the different apartments, as if by magic;
and it would have been a puzzling point for me to decide
whether John, Thomas, or William entertained for me the
greatest regard. In the midst of all this the thought struck
me, how very different the demeanour of the domestics
would have been, had their master treated me with neglect
or incivility. This ill-timed reflection on my part took away
much of the pleasure I before enjoyed. But thus it is with
the world. With almost all of us, “from Dan to Beer-
sheeba,” ay, from the Polar regions to Polynesia. Odd



ON COUNTRY KINDNESS. 77

nations, and odd notions have I heard of, but I have never
yet heard of a people so very odd as to pay particular adora-
tion to the setting sun.

Real kindness will rather pay attention to those who need
it, than to those who can command it; it will delight more
to raise the fallen, than to hold up those who are firm on
their feet; it will rather seek out the cause of the poor,
than that of the prosperous. There is no kindness in set-
ting a twig, that we may obtain from it a tree; or in giving
a piece of silver, with the hope of getting back for it a plece
of gold. Real kindness is a generous principle, as well as
a warm-hearted feeling, and to make others happy is its best
reward. We all love kindness, from whomsoever it comes,
but when extended to those who need it, its value is doubled
in our estimation.



= 336Ke—

CHAPTER XII.

——_-e—__

THE PLOUGHING-MATCH.

Attractions of the ploughed field.—The ploughing-match.— Fawley Court.
—The prizes.—The nine ploughmen.—Old Preese and the Prim-my.—
The spectators.—The bait—George Hodges’ care of his horses—The
large knife.—Farmer Street the Umpire.—William Howell gains the
first prize.—Old Preese’s wheel within a wheel.—Another ploughing-
match fixed for next year. |

‘THE country without ploughed fields would be robbed of

much of its interest, and Rural Pickings without some
notice of a ploughing match would be very incomplete. If
the meadow, the pasture, the hay-field, and the corn-field
have their allurements, neither is the ploughed field without
its attractions. The red-painted plough, the shining share,
the team, the sturdy ploughman, the jingling of the traces,
the shrill whistle of the jocund driver, the lark carolling in
air, the many-coloured foliage of the trees and hedges, the
spider's threads glittermg in the sun as they stream over
the ridgy furrows, the healthy freshness of the upturned
earth, and the balmy breath of morn, are too pleasant in
their influences to be spared. The heart is light and the
spirit joyous amid such scenes ; for health and cheerfulness
are abroad, peace and contentment shed their influence
around, exercise bounds along rejoicing, and lusty labour
smilingly pursues his useful occupation.

Time was when tillage was so little known, when plough-



THE: PLOUGHING-MATCH. 79

ing and sowing were so little understood, that such advice
as the following was not thought unnecessary.
“ Forget not when you sow the grain, to min
That a boy follows with a rake behind,
And strictly charge him, as you drive, with care
The seeds to cover and the birds to scare.”

Such advice, at the present time, would be smiled at by
the rustic labourer. But now for the ploughing-match.

A well conducted ploughing-match is not without great
advantages. It is an affair, too, of much interest in the
country. J will therefore give a full account of one at
which I was present last year.

As the most important part of our food is bread, and as
bread cannot be got without ploughing, sowing and reaping,
it is very necessary that these things should be done well.
It is to encourage good ploughing, that ploughing-matches
are made.

When I first heard of the match about to be described, I
was sitting in the great hall in Fawley Court, with a few
friends. Fawley Court is a large farm-house in Hereford-
shire, at no great distance from the river Wye. It is an
ancient stone mansion, once half covered with ivy, but now
the ivy is cleared away. It has old-fashioned projecting
windows, a porch door knobbed with iron, a large court-yard,
and a high pigeon-house. Report says that the brother of
the famous Kyrle, the man of Ross, once lived there; and
very likely this is true, for the porch door has an iron
knocker, with the letters I K and the date 1635 on the
round plate against which it strikes.

The great hall, the old pictures, the staircase of dark oak,
and the turret-like windows to the upper rooms, are all in
character, It was near Fawley Court that the ploughing-
match took place.



80 RURAL PICKINGS.

The day before the match, the labourers at the different
farms—Much Fawley, Little Fawley, Brockhampton, How
Caple, and others, were all in a bustle. Some said that
William Howell would be sure to win; others thought that
George Hodges, or William Jones, was quite as likely a
man; while old William Preese, who had been a soldier, set
them all laughing by telling them they might do their best,
but that he should be sure to get the Prim-my, by which
he meant the premium, or first prize.

At the ploughing-match there were four prizes. He who
ploughed four ridges quickest and best, won the first prize—
a pound and a crown; the second prize was fifteen shillings,
the third twelve shillings, and the fourth eight shillings ;
besides which, every man, win or lose, was to have a good
dinner. A pound and a crown, a good dinner, and an
increased reputation, are worth striving for. They are not
to be often won by a ploughman.

Into the field called the Long Field, at Much Fawley,
came nine ploughmen to strive for the prizes, their ploughs
having been carefully taken there in carts, that the points
of them might not be injured in the rough lanes. Farmer
Powell, of Fawley Court, sent three ploughmen; their names
were George Hodges, Thomas Hinns, and William Preese.
Farmer Higgins, of Much Fawley, sent also three—William
Howell, Thomas Jenkins, and James Cole; and the plough-
men belonging to farmer Gwilliams, of How Caple, were
William Jones, Robert Powell, and William Edwards.

The ploughmen were dressed differently; for though every
man wore a smock-frock, some had breeches and long
gaiters; some worsted stockings and short gaiters; and
others high-topped, hob-nailed shoes, with no gaiters at all.
There were black hats, white hats, caps, and straw hats
among them. To work they went, and in an hour or two



THE PLOUGHING-MATCH. 81

they made their horses, Dobbins, Blackbirds, Gilberts,
Dingers, and others, brown, black, and dappled-grey, smoke
famously.

The ploughmen had no drivers, but used their long cords
for reins ; with these they sharply flapped their horses sides
when necessary. The ridges to be ploughed were marked
out by sticks driven into the ground, with numbers upon
them. |

This ploughing-match was an unusual circumstance in
that part of the county, and it seemed to be quite as impor
tant, in the opinion of the ploughmen, as a field-day, or
grand review in the estimation of soldiers, It was a lively

scene to witness the smoking horses arching their necks
_ as they were hurried up and down the furrows; the plough-
men, all ardour, encouraging their teams; and the lookers-
on walking about from one part of the field to another,
giving their opinion who would be most likely to win.
The sere leaf hanging on the tree, and the scarlet hip and
the holly berry gave an added interest to the hedges, while
the bright blue sky overhead was delightful.

The ploughmen were very free in cracking their jokes.
One of them, who happened to see me occupied with my
pencil and paper, cried out to Thomas Hinns, “Thomas,
I'll gi’ thee my old hat, if all about this beant in Lamnon
afore to-morrow night ;” and old Preese again boasted that, do
what they would, he should be sure “to get the Prim-my.”

Kvery now and then country labourers came into the
field from the adjoining farms, drest up a little more than
commonly spruce, with a holiday smirk on their faces. And
there came, too, among many more, the Captain from Faw-
ley Court, in his shooting-jacket ; and farmer Powell, and
farmer Higgins, and an old man in a brown coat with big
buttons, and George Seal, the carpenter, in his fiery red

G



82 RURAL PICKINGS.

waistcoat and white trousers; and William Townsend, the
parish blacksmith, in his leathern apron.

While the ploughing-match was going on, three other
ploughmen were busy in the same field, contending for a
prize of twenty shillings, given by one of the members
of Parliament for the county; so that twelve teams and
twelve ploughmen were at work in the field at the same
time.

It was the middle of the day before the ploughmen
stopped to eat their breakfast, and to bait their smoking
teams, and then George Hodges spread a bundle of hay over
the backs of his horses, to keep them from catching cold.

When the men began to cut their bread and cheese,
George Hodges had no knife ; and when a bystander offered
to lend him one, which was very large, George said that he
was “afeared a fearing on ‘em wi’ sitch a knife as that un.”
He was afraid of frightening his companions by using such
a large knife: they might think him greedy.

After a while the ploughmen set to work again in good
earnest, every man doing his best. The horses worked none
the worse for their bait, the ploughmen worked all the
better for their breakfasts. By far the greater part of the
field was already ploughed, and, at the rate they were going
on, a few more hours would finish the remainder. The
nearer the men were to the end of their labour, the more
anxious were they about winning ; very few jests were heard ;
and even old Preese himself, as he moved the quid of
tobacco in his mouth, did not seem quite so sure that he
should win the “ Prim-my.”

At last farmer Higgins was seen with farmer Street, a
respectable man with some years on his brow, and possessed
of much judgment in farming affairs, slowly striding across
the furrows to examine the work done. Farmer Street was



THE PLOUGHING-MATCH. — 83

the umpire ; he had to determine to whom the prizes were
to be given; and he seemed to be very careful in making
his decision.

Take the ploughing all together, there never need be seen
better. George Hodges had a sudden bend in one of his
furrows, occasioned by his horses having been frightened,
and most of the other men had committed some little fault ;
but, as I said, take the whole day’s work together, it was
excellent. The furrows were straight, of just the right
depth and breadth, and well turned over. William Howell
had no sooner finished his four ridges than he set to work
to help his companions. How the horses did smoke !

William Howell won the first prize, George Hodges the
second, William Jones the third, and Thomas Cole, or
James Cole, (for I forget the right name) obtained the
fourth. Howell and George Hodges were in fine spirits,
and so were Jones and Cole. When old Preese found out
that he had not won the “ Prim-my,” he said that he
‘‘ knowed a thing or two: there was a wheel within a wheel
there.” However, the prospect of a good dinner kept both
winners and losers in good spirits, and old Preese declared
that he would make farmer Higgins’s “ bif” (beef) suffer for
his losing the “ Prim-my.”

The ploughing-match next year is intended to come off at
Fawley Court, so that, all well, the Captain in his shooting-
jacket, Seal, the carpenter, in his fiery red waistcoat, and the
parish blacksmith in his leathern apron, may again be seen
among the assembled labourers. William Howell, perhaps,
will once more enter the field; George Hodges, William
‘ Jones, and Thomas Cole strive for the prize; and old
. Preese have another opportunity of winning the “ Prim-my.”

G2





CHAPTER XIII.

—_@——_

BLACK JACK.

Common Patch.—The Graingers—Black Jack.—His cruelty, ignorance,
idleness and immorality.—The two mastiffs—Jack ties a canister to
the tail of one of them.—The distress of the poor animal.—Jack kills
him.—The farm-house.—Black Jack commits a burglary, and is seized
and held fast by a mastiff dog—He is tried for his life and con-
demned.—The gallows tree-—Black Jack is hung, while the mastiff dog
barks for joy.

N many villages there are strips of waste ground, on
which inferior cottages stand, and in most rural districts
there are a few poor people of bad repute, who have inhe-
rited, from those who have gone before them, a reputation
for idleness, dirty habits, drunkenness and dishonesty. Of
this description of land is Common Patch or Rushy Green,
for it is called by both these names, and of this kind of
persons are the family of the Graingers, of whom I am
about to speak.

There is a saying in Holy Writ to which the family of the
Graingers have paid but little attention: “ Train up a child
in the way he should go: and when he is old he will not
depart from it.” Children, honour and obey your parents !
Parents, with kindness instruct your children !

Watch o’er them well, come grief or joy
Tis but a prudent plan ;

For rest assured the tyrant boy
Will prove a tyrant man.



BLACK JACK. Shy

The Graingers have lived in one of the cottages on
Common Patch for three generations, in spite of poverty,
bad habits, and bad character. No one willingly employs
any of them, if other hands are to be had, and how they
manage to live, is a puzzle to many. Their cottage is a
mere wreck, with scanty furniture, and the dunghill before
the door is a forbidding object. It must be nearly fifty
years ago since Black Jack, one of the Grainger family, the
subject of the following stanzas, finished his disgraceful
career, but there are old heads and garrulous tongues in the
village, that yet love to narrate his adventures.

BLACK JACK.

Black Jack was an ill-favoured swarthy child
That acted a cruel part :
With a will that was stubborn, and wayward and wild,
And a hard and a wicked heart.
It pleased him well to impale a fly,—
To tear off its wings and to see it die;
He climbed the tree in wanton mood,
To take from the nest the callow brood
As they stretched out their naked necks for food :
And he laughed aloud when the deed was done,
As he pluckéd out their pin-feathers one by one. ‘
It was sad to see his cruel glee
As he placed them on the ground,
With a push of his toe to make them go,
Or to turn them round and round.
At the yellow frog and the speckled toad,
He loved a stone to fling ;
And he was the first to crook the pin,
To make the tortured cockchaffer spin,
And to pull off the butterfly’s wing.

Jack never was taught, in the days of his youth,
By his parents to read or to spell ;



86

RURAL PICKINGS.

He counted the boy, at the best, but a fool,
Who attended his class at the Sunday School,
And learnt his lessons well.
The Holy Bible was a book
In which he never wished to look :
He never bent the knee
In solemn prayer that God would hide
His sabbath-breaking sin, and pride,
Nor sought the Saviour’s grace who died
_ For sinners on the tree.
He never was taught to work at a trade,
That his bread might be fairly won ;
In idling where reckless companions abound,
In sauntering and skulking the village around,
And in picking up all that there was to be found,
His day’s occupation was done.
Deceit and cunning lurked upon his brow ;
He got his daily food—no one knew how.

Black Jack grew older, and stouter and bolder,
Till he was a stripling tall ;
A hectoring, loud-talking, cowardly slave
To his passions and vices ;—a hard-hearted knave,
Suspected and hated by all.
His dark, scowling eye had the leer of a lie,
And thick was his wiry hair ;
It grew down his back,
Stiff, bushy, and black,
Like the hide of a shaggy bear.
Oaths, wrangling, and strife were the joy of his life,
The glass and the drunkard’s song ;
The pothouse and cockpit were still his delight ;
How gleeful was he when he got up a fight,
Or joined with the bull-baiting throng !
Dark rumours spread the country round—
E’en yet the tales survive ;
It was whispered he wore a murdered man’s hat,
And though some in the place threw a doubt upon that,
Yet as for the widow’s poor tortoise-shell cat,
It was certain he skinned her alive !



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'2011-11-14T22:21:33-05:00'
describe
'19664' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJKT' 'sip-files00006.pro'
fe9776f48f92a3c3eaea2766dbbc670b
520655c23af66e296592a302e15cef55992dc204
'2011-11-14T22:25:15-05:00'
describe
'15485' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJKU' 'sip-files00006.QC.jpg'
fb4f7e2875f4ec1d0dceb7cc33399b65
04b5f9c6be041f41f622c61800f5bfa8a81a408d
'2011-11-14T22:26:21-05:00'
describe
'8113469' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJKV' 'sip-files00006.tif'
a4ca504a4cd8939bef4c5d0edf17fa99
b9717d521ab0bcbcee844da9be1ae69c87818f6a
'2011-11-14T22:21:51-05:00'
describe
'1075' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJKW' 'sip-files00006.txt'
1ce1f54a2263e9b7828d8eb56bf15ae2
6fadd8471f5350efea69df6dc3e1e58412fe0326
'2011-11-14T22:20:28-05:00'
describe
'4593' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJKX' 'sip-files00006thm.jpg'
35f14820c6d628ebda31084445fff6a9
525296273e15652af0b4f0f023d1f3463d1b8bc8
'2011-11-14T22:24:08-05:00'
describe
'996068' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJKY' 'sip-files00007.jp2'
5d61c9ba03fc114cab2e4351004b027f
8c84850f535b6d3c18ecc38cbdc554fc64ed1a80
'2011-11-14T22:23:21-05:00'
describe
'68810' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJKZ' 'sip-files00007.jpg'
e2ebe54dd9e03c3f7af87166c0702999
ab26ebfca96c59685f9b4c981e0f3fc51f5ae515
'2011-11-14T22:25:02-05:00'
describe
'38003' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLA' 'sip-files00007.pro'
aa5b5fa68baf67fd601032f1729d901f
81518cac141784fb50d2bb2e2463c7b8c5d507e6
'2011-11-14T22:22:50-05:00'
describe
'24105' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLB' 'sip-files00007.QC.jpg'
d5a1302af207ebb3452ea54dda83da40
d4574c68c1ddde0952917465b07ca6d60be5cb2d
'2011-11-14T22:24:36-05:00'
describe
'7978177' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLC' 'sip-files00007.tif'
9ddfa6be0aa28778c2fd547915006e07
fc9721649d24c8512fdaf3fe64b6ae0ec4abba63
'2011-11-14T22:25:14-05:00'
describe
'1930' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLD' 'sip-files00007.txt'
13b3316e599d8a219c6ba60de0be11bd
284f8a51d28019e16268d2fd033f033829cfdfea
'2011-11-14T22:23:04-05:00'
describe
'7217' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLE' 'sip-files00007thm.jpg'
f6b7259dde52d0ffda82238a4d9fd536
a536dbb3a8e67c18cfedab44b32caacc55f4fc7e
'2011-11-14T22:20:01-05:00'
describe
'1012853' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLF' 'sip-files00008.jp2'
4fcb7ef8db60f93d16beb7140ea68ec1
fc6f15bbeaf6935800fb5620de2af57bbe1217ff
'2011-11-14T22:20:46-05:00'
describe
'76697' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLG' 'sip-files00008.jpg'
57ec77e3b32bba32ec3bcb9bdce105cf
d4fcc7b90b9e279a8c77d83364fe177395c41e80
'2011-11-14T22:21:00-05:00'
describe
'43189' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLH' 'sip-files00008.pro'
dd2d0588e3c0ff2298e30ec72e86db40
8404eccb30607263b2f36ffa2918d67c7ba733f9
'2011-11-14T22:24:53-05:00'
describe
'26272' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLI' 'sip-files00008.QC.jpg'
3eab5e581803d6858a72caf3bb8a7811
6962892b9b937c2a34aaeddfb00cfe515db354d5
'2011-11-14T22:27:17-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLJ' 'sip-files00008.tif'
7ed9fe71e49f84fbb89269d3d4f9d0f7
3fca37884347ec03fa79515bcecb37270c02522d
describe
'2104' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLK' 'sip-files00008.txt'
0ec50ea4fe4240231c900979780aeb30
2ac7d953637b4d382602eca7eaa6e409dde31c84
'2011-11-14T22:23:17-05:00'
describe
'7427' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLL' 'sip-files00008thm.jpg'
5f54b797f13d9327be54a3614775a8bd
d02b0b53e13e74558673df34bf614cc1af01c7d0
describe
'996077' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLM' 'sip-files00009.jp2'
1f881becf703ed8ab370307c0d56597c
144d95021df79d2f745c0a84b4c811476dabac10
'2011-11-14T22:24:27-05:00'
describe
'73620' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLN' 'sip-files00009.jpg'
fa90e4dbea8f55de2867c5cbf9b56330
180246b542eee0eeee70bb5227a8e3dbd66cc61d
'2011-11-14T22:25:30-05:00'
describe
'39574' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLO' 'sip-files00009.pro'
042381034b60840a99b6ac87b3067bb8
8bdb468255b3b1ba653f0118c6060aff1a9eb24a
'2011-11-14T22:23:03-05:00'
describe
'25712' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLP' 'sip-files00009.QC.jpg'
1a833780f68471e50e26441bd7d03d22
b16d837187c4084bc428f96d89356fd04e1828bd
'2011-11-14T22:20:29-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLQ' 'sip-files00009.tif'
373b8270d74055c0b07f9d451884cc24
3e5d34d41175a705e3d007ff4feb2c8c82abd64a
'2011-11-14T22:21:04-05:00'
describe
'1980' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLR' 'sip-files00009.txt'
432eeb564b9c6f63b5235a3b97871d24
90796ee769c60027679580b277e9ba217fa20cbe
'2011-11-14T22:24:15-05:00'
describe
'7721' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLS' 'sip-files00009thm.jpg'
9adb9d1bcb310fc0055d559be53f8dc5
ca410a2b0f33533e5f004cb970026b76c54c7061
'2011-11-14T22:21:03-05:00'
describe
'1012935' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLT' 'sip-files00010.jp2'
5ddf7cb1beea13047345ff74732b2d1c
ef23d1680d92a6e535fe4f0a9cc7304f0ab0bd93
'2011-11-14T22:20:32-05:00'
describe
'69723' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLU' 'sip-files00010.jpg'
7dd0987e3959068da4a3f0f5b95cc26c
eb5e5ff7d28020a8df8cf57f58202b63f6216c0d
'2011-11-14T22:20:31-05:00'
describe
'37500' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLV' 'sip-files00010.pro'
1e6815fcfc13994f1cdef0b09b67e11d
4380a33acd4041b3959bc58dcd71cb20840eccb9
'2011-11-14T22:25:47-05:00'
describe
'24421' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLW' 'sip-files00010.QC.jpg'
48858f7c9fb964a5293739cd189a4958
0b528547b4df67580b240925253295784077dd43
'2011-11-14T22:21:11-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLX' 'sip-files00010.tif'
8408715a5382da436486fecc0ef0c75b
553fd9b785303b254f6340eaedac2680aa2c1004
'2011-11-14T22:25:49-05:00'
describe
'1919' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLY' 'sip-files00010.txt'
8233bed8fad1db74b8e3dc26a6907e3f
53bc3d1185ec38e801f5a05e9860591eea581e11
'2011-11-14T22:20:10-05:00'
describe
'7329' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJLZ' 'sip-files00010thm.jpg'
acd9463dda4fcef62932e2539d97b89d
a3ba5c3801238615681c64b6f88f89d29495115a
'2011-11-14T22:23:43-05:00'
describe
'996029' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMA' 'sip-files00011.jp2'
09bb9282ac367ee7788c4e527dcf6aef
676250cfb057f6ee9c933b0253aa40ba7605977a
'2011-11-14T22:20:18-05:00'
describe
'68011' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMB' 'sip-files00011.jpg'
f555f70ae52a60431c2ed907f299f35a
b7c35fc16e269e75f9f5700eadcc873988a54a33
describe
'37265' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMC' 'sip-files00011.pro'
2645bcdca1f675d77ad0919c07be56b2
967d00aca30ece8b33ca6764fa35fce972b29a98
'2011-11-14T22:24:46-05:00'
describe
'23251' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMD' 'sip-files00011.QC.jpg'
479ba3999a4607ab612186853f32ca05
0065c166f12420ac38c3c1ff4ca5bea0f2038467
'2011-11-14T22:22:12-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJME' 'sip-files00011.tif'
175f057ea2be5fe58ca4cfa5215ddd5c
fa63fc31110d8d392827f8c22dc2dfcbc23b4458
'2011-11-14T22:22:33-05:00'
describe
'1861' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMF' 'sip-files00011.txt'
13cd3dc345ec0894526c05b833327bfc
e4791307ab0dcc481ece43496f2b70c6e0484aaf
describe
'7052' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMG' 'sip-files00011thm.jpg'
4aab2bc2d52fe3f527a7307e2bd101f4
896bd031dc5787d5490ec43ff3943966ca514107
'2011-11-14T22:21:26-05:00'
describe
'1012945' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMH' 'sip-files00012.jp2'
b1668163a141b49466ed71a490f21565
17432d947a489ef590a9076e7254c85208c5fe5b
'2011-11-14T22:26:30-05:00'
describe
'72700' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMI' 'sip-files00012.jpg'
1eb74b1eea2754b470e391d2fd1da973
6bb2fc15da574b4f8595df7cebc458470fcecd07
'2011-11-14T22:23:22-05:00'
describe
'39404' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMJ' 'sip-files00012.pro'
a67df3a59c2801bc86733cf7bb43403f
95d58d4351b7180d330cfbeaa1e054a2c7e7108e
describe
'25068' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMK' 'sip-files00012.QC.jpg'
c84c171991b272bfadfd9226149212a1
a904c97be53508a539026c546abe6a3cea70929b
'2011-11-14T22:22:56-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJML' 'sip-files00012.tif'
4450d4b4c6fe002c57e44fb7aa1d6554
0620c919da949f399173622d52103eb772e7d274
'2011-11-14T22:20:47-05:00'
describe
'1947' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMM' 'sip-files00012.txt'
7ea0336cecf0aecd9b3b9f263c7db46e
2b5f71aea51fc6d37a85a82f63f972a9627cb671
'2011-11-14T22:24:34-05:00'
describe
'7062' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMN' 'sip-files00012thm.jpg'
21c18ecb484e78bc71750539a0d67534
47b1d1056da87393cf08ae6622e1f8727a89f82c
'2011-11-14T22:21:17-05:00'
describe
'910942' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMO' 'sip-files00013.jp2'
e9120f4f148f4e497c52581085f12902
0e509bfca86ec3614ac35bbd8296aede81ff887c
'2011-11-14T22:26:00-05:00'
describe
'57575' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMP' 'sip-files00013.jpg'
4ceb7108e2865bb543d60821823ca7f9
deebeda935b08868201c17e13c8bf971a6a0c314
describe
'30455' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMQ' 'sip-files00013.pro'
500f775e053641ed40222bbdbfc8c20e
77751e18fbcf0b1ecd2d60307b3d34995d0f1e77
'2011-11-14T22:25:13-05:00'
describe
'20095' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMR' 'sip-files00013.QC.jpg'
2dcdbf315f5876836d1296682f09bf58
9c93bd4b775ba0e8efc9dae94ae65fc1d879c204
'2011-11-14T22:27:00-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMS' 'sip-files00013.tif'
14a2897a0520bdc790d26f8d27d51c17
a69ce8cc7dda974253cdeac9147e8c97e79eddfc
'2011-11-14T22:21:35-05:00'
describe
'1531' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMT' 'sip-files00013.txt'
937e50943d92133d786b63f1777d32d5
5f608fc7cbf524cbdd2baa09a92a8c537b690cbf
'2011-11-14T22:20:30-05:00'
describe
'6041' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMU' 'sip-files00013thm.jpg'
d393150b1e6d0f8c2d69621a4608e007
0ab33b9f2398124f760c8b59adebf52e4dce3f12
describe
'1012911' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMV' 'sip-files00014.jp2'
5dcf5ee33e712d8afa65f0098b707a84
89ec67b6018790016caaf88b7ca2f4cd9e5ff269
'2011-11-14T22:25:10-05:00'
describe
'66648' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMW' 'sip-files00014.jpg'
b403ed0a1c9b2c31732e08a64cfda7bb
de50e58ea4c6659d8202eecf80c5c789393eb93a
'2011-11-14T22:25:39-05:00'
describe
'24444' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMX' 'sip-files00014.pro'
a9042d3e41f18e8bb8da387d851f0942
2f480d470757507b32630efa9d48c43969b17443
'2011-11-14T22:25:18-05:00'
describe
'22788' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMY' 'sip-files00014.QC.jpg'
a9cf9d49bc2558b89305b81e14efec0d
77a053f97b2937e0e1714683d5ccd0c270166def
'2011-11-14T22:27:08-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJMZ' 'sip-files00014.tif'
c605c3222ea7f010f6be051db58323c3
154458a1cd258ef57d4d86c8fce240dc387d89d4
'2011-11-14T22:23:12-05:00'
describe
'1115' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNA' 'sip-files00014.txt'
b7999edd26eddcdc3cf93a96e1d71724
92d38a279402dbb0373ef66d678c20abef07a42e
'2011-11-14T22:22:03-05:00'
describe
'6870' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNB' 'sip-files00014thm.jpg'
7397c0a58decd840d70112c86c82ec64
c08090229e23266c621709cd9fde552e3b0a0a68
'2011-11-14T22:21:29-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNC' 'sip-files00015.jp2'
57cd4bac48faea8bed6bd203be24e844
9c4923b46fff978e97495edb7cd655b7267abeb8
'2011-11-14T22:22:01-05:00'
describe
'101826' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJND' 'sip-files00015.jpg'
b44ebaa61e2d8037ca16d211472369af
7c6f1478d21195ced0172fbba76e93871922928b
describe
'45712' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNE' 'sip-files00015.pro'
80531d2f37ffd705ef4742b6988fb204
c88c632973373f966f98107beae8e32b23c00ac9
'2011-11-14T22:20:55-05:00'
describe
'36365' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNF' 'sip-files00015.QC.jpg'
944bea8d68797e99156bc544fb08b983
885776e1e42b1c5329eced9642c0d56fd3975818
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNG' 'sip-files00015.tif'
56403fb11caa50abc8cc1ac7756df571
0089c0e86de899822a4051e8f5e831948aa444bc
describe
'1944' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNH' 'sip-files00015.txt'
c82412409e6c7122deefe3ab49584703
0bf228f642f852de33fceefb9ec0c9115c55f3cf
'2011-11-14T22:22:08-05:00'
describe
'10668' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNI' 'sip-files00015thm.jpg'
66eb16398d5a6db8dd2789fce59e1c53
42e138496d60f881ed13dd38380e5035373f3d98
'2011-11-14T22:21:24-05:00'
describe
'901088' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNJ' 'sip-files00016.jp2'
e0581f070f8f6c0272d1ca64a27896cd
e93bb9af37458451f2e7f7ebfcaa112cb3733dfb
'2011-11-14T22:22:23-05:00'
describe
'52406' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNK' 'sip-files00016.jpg'
fbaa53d652157782deddd1b55bcc1de5
a2a0055d93e772a7f089584633e6b963bb61ac67
describe
'19490' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNL' 'sip-files00016.pro'
d3961806f848c6e6c14a172e89930de2
fb9e659acd6ad774d208e1084fa39b74ffa0cbe5
'2011-11-14T22:20:03-05:00'
describe
'18223' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNM' 'sip-files00016.QC.jpg'
1ccda35127687c7187e7fb0d6f29e4e7
15fab4880e7b2d24f24864e4b11742403b8744cd
'2011-11-14T22:20:54-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNN' 'sip-files00016.tif'
83e7e76bfc2fc96eb183ce8b129e2257
c3c3219c7d50c89337cabfec989b874551bf8535
'2011-11-14T22:25:37-05:00'
describe
'903' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNO' 'sip-files00016.txt'
233b5141cc7ad70816e5c4bd0ca5732a
880c697f8533e5a8926c16763843d9c351c75bd4
'2011-11-14T22:25:52-05:00'
describe
'5334' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNP' 'sip-files00016thm.jpg'
3a08e764f77f6e28def45fc3a466a2b2
41d0ae4e098210e8eabf08272195a752124c2fee
'2011-11-14T22:26:17-05:00'
describe
'995974' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNQ' 'sip-files00017.jp2'
b7728b59b0ea2010f87205661c206dec
bfd1393e557435dd667e2ec5d3bb51dc84aadefd
'2011-11-14T22:20:08-05:00'
describe
'73671' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNR' 'sip-files00017.jpg'
142b4a238b795e5cc88a1ff33ad4efd5
6d4a6c59280349a0cbfa26bf43d7a418aa1a8d6e
describe
'31000' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNS' 'sip-files00017.pro'
bcc4c097e28cc54edefcf97a0826ff07
98285f3b0282c441611e4e4529383a36fa2253ef
'2011-11-14T22:26:41-05:00'
describe
'26267' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNT' 'sip-files00017.QC.jpg'
d15b37c67b3f1153cadfc18915f4db4e
1cb809c6520a5ae76613e46a4df1c639fd5afa54
'2011-11-14T22:23:00-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNU' 'sip-files00017.tif'
226adc91ad3ebcd309b31522d7f39e1f
f46f58094e2915cd39aed96699f2ed7e3bff529e
'2011-11-14T22:23:59-05:00'
describe
'1356' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNV' 'sip-files00017.txt'
8f6275521a236475c110a4615fba4336
37b149e36cd689178285feb03a5298408d2ddda4
describe
'7801' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNW' 'sip-files00017thm.jpg'
2162088b11b1fa5cd0bf3d0653519911
728fd13da690277bdffe0f40dc456592b9503a10
'2011-11-14T22:23:45-05:00'
describe
'1013006' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNX' 'sip-files00018.jp2'
eb172c436edaf57bbfca3bccdfcc4e1a
0951f3f16f9ff7227a347f7658eada67953b19a2
describe
'111097' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNY' 'sip-files00018.jpg'
a1c46a2c2a753444c8cc94f9591fab34
243c8b8dc6fba4bdb389ec0d6fc7367367d4a7a9
describe
'46803' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJNZ' 'sip-files00018.pro'
b7169469988adb15a5be2636711795fc
3fd11dd3b72a75ad07eceaa88bf9acf875e2c3d3
'2011-11-14T22:21:57-05:00'
describe
'38925' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOA' 'sip-files00018.QC.jpg'
cbb3a8a1d08359e32c2cd6b1dfe28b00
342d7b4258634ad4082d1f5a55793a99b0a13854
'2011-11-14T22:23:27-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOB' 'sip-files00018.tif'
6da5bee07f055245201ac7a71c048a80
2bb4a7c8b188652a9444a88326fc91631ba7c349
describe
'1960' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOC' 'sip-files00018.txt'
e473749601a4d09ab20346cd016c8dac
46473c815112f4c429fb11db6078290d7a5f94b6
describe
'10686' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOD' 'sip-files00018thm.jpg'
62a839a2b57b3adc333362cbc25a2553
c5aef728462e98b925273816fd8cd3668ed19dd6
describe
'996058' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOE' 'sip-files00019.jp2'
9496b701547a69f58700aaaec2b1f6ce
0ca2355da7cc8897b3ea4aaeb1ff88ef54ebd46b
describe
'106376' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOF' 'sip-files00019.jpg'
1392e32b1e982fefe5e4e4a12b78fd86
120f7e8fdb36dddea656de0984cd4599202b785a
describe
'46080' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOG' 'sip-files00019.pro'
e373b1cbbf8eda308a974da6ef0ce02d
167e020454da6c71160a0944818650d1217566e9
describe
'38094' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOH' 'sip-files00019.QC.jpg'
4498000c4eb74ec0ca8ec29f1c097d02
7f2b3daed40393da95be6cfc9bbfcaee33e07cc6
'2011-11-14T22:25:25-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOI' 'sip-files00019.tif'
de77355df7d14be22500208c2c1c3284
27138bf9e83dfaf9224d6a846a29de3b0c55fa73
'2011-11-14T22:25:20-05:00'
describe
'1956' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOJ' 'sip-files00019.txt'
015f33604865b5e27dbb471d80516351
54533783fb1293d0edd287099a6e9ed68050e90f
describe
'10773' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOK' 'sip-files00019thm.jpg'
d3486297e1946d7025c6116299b1f173
f783cb99b3989705505c81bda720156e9d1b2114
'2011-11-14T22:26:40-05:00'
describe
'1012924' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOL' 'sip-files00020.jp2'
d7274b4b16a9cb61f6fd1188ee06627c
1bab7d3abfd36de0a4572f02eab09b898ab8fee0
describe
'110327' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOM' 'sip-files00020.jpg'
79d6411a3784940f3add9adf4187ddff
e742687f4ba6ca58c936c130e13e88eff1534a80
describe
'47200' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJON' 'sip-files00020.pro'
0da4682c6ec9c741cfff22bd7d452eb9
7a739b76dab5eb6baf3eb0429660a5ce78213316
describe
'38914' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOO' 'sip-files00020.QC.jpg'
8cfa3b1563b84e3e224f1522515df9c8
7ae86e2a1fd01ad8292cedca14a320b6775b5a5d
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOP' 'sip-files00020.tif'
2d8f4de9ce67edf902e90253c6ebf628
fb47bd017e2538b3e5ac0aa37c3ab0fc167d90c8
'2011-11-14T22:26:08-05:00'
describe
'1966' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOQ' 'sip-files00020.txt'
39b8bff2d2043608fccafb26a38baa58
56f7c7d043cad15882a59e641fa4b883351ffe43
'2011-11-14T22:27:10-05:00'
describe
'10348' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOR' 'sip-files00020thm.jpg'
3c6704c6bc2f3fc37cf8bc83e835b465
d48c5d480a93d6dbe92521eccf41c9a70513d4d8
'2011-11-14T22:24:35-05:00'
describe
'995844' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOS' 'sip-files00021.jp2'
8ad9f00c53c78e0dc1991c937e68c8c1
8d55d5edb0cf0b44d2086ebe2e0be5d13aad78cd
'2011-11-14T22:22:34-05:00'
describe
'102906' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOT' 'sip-files00021.jpg'
46b8b7b857093d33d1123e90941112ed
ee284e9aaa77d3fbe5e7b1593e4f3e89b8b88f6f
'2011-11-14T22:25:29-05:00'
describe
'44510' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOU' 'sip-files00021.pro'
9e2271f73a2805e4e1f7d0a9d53f8412
8a0c2f54e4438651323942d9ca7d22e6a524c98f
describe
'36576' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOV' 'sip-files00021.QC.jpg'
1bd9777e59a564e05fbdc7a9426c774e
8a5f4d0383db63285d4369c4b68271ce36961d1e
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOW' 'sip-files00021.tif'
dcc3cf2d8371e65cbfdc008f944bce99
c08c023c8e47081f8937404bd0017784bbb7f6ba
'2011-11-14T22:26:19-05:00'
describe
'1879' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOX' 'sip-files00021.txt'
946472806b51008b9e3f5f6d916edb56
0ad0262d659399eaa1326209801f44f73982ea08
'2011-11-14T22:20:22-05:00'
describe
'10448' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOY' 'sip-files00021thm.jpg'
228631da291f9155ed7be3aa7cb9b64d
cb2f6a391deed9e0f51e80cce913e77318b0ebe8
'2011-11-14T22:23:40-05:00'
describe
'1012993' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJOZ' 'sip-files00022.jp2'
bf6c0666b206ae84113c49e5a06aa277
5a5eb76c973b78b5b81449072b4612d8a5a343d7
'2011-11-14T22:20:11-05:00'
describe
'109184' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPA' 'sip-files00022.jpg'
ba747094e3abc4d245c940ffacd0b68b
17dc77b5c12f9e2d7f255c1562ac21b4b43fb8c5
'2011-11-14T22:20:25-05:00'
describe
'46112' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPB' 'sip-files00022.pro'
24a0c75f5a2395dd467f5680afa3b679
af47bc124132002af2476df999f45e40e02df29c
describe
'37926' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPC' 'sip-files00022.QC.jpg'
cd328221aae5fc636074776608cebaf1
92ed5080f6f8bb2741b278b89d7c2b3df187eb03
'2011-11-14T22:25:31-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPD' 'sip-files00022.tif'
755aea4ba1cfcc023233572f98ff5e70
5ca521267177ddbd0df1d70b852cc0ac57bffda0
'2011-11-14T22:20:05-05:00'
describe
'1918' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPE' 'sip-files00022.txt'
fd238f9d9b2ac70c067130319da37d32
76c8f5277f247919189f4c30425a5780455ee9fb
'2011-11-14T22:26:54-05:00'
describe
'10146' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPF' 'sip-files00022thm.jpg'
3f0bc07c04a1d2b555c498190bc6d024
17dee893109b15397b519d4b77e8333a423ec6b4
describe
'996087' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPG' 'sip-files00023.jp2'
b5ec134148a50be87261bfc38ab39bd6
e36a8ea4586a520e75d0c6bc1336dc2e7a29bd92
'2011-11-14T22:22:04-05:00'
describe
'109438' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPH' 'sip-files00023.jpg'
aee0ce28702a8ad379bcc9ea94bb1bf3
ede52a5752441c2f5a63e49b15e82622517bcc55
'2011-11-14T22:25:23-05:00'
describe
'48137' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPI' 'sip-files00023.pro'
061df6b44d183e255b61167476b6d06c
357518ecb4f5773b1aaddf9cb36e46a895c04da1
'2011-11-14T22:25:34-05:00'
describe
'38691' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPJ' 'sip-files00023.QC.jpg'
e6164305efe94944d76b03e9ea82212d
6220fd38524f9c2c6a5c0ad9a2ece2304a06a3d4
'2011-11-14T22:24:25-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPK' 'sip-files00023.tif'
129a7f80270e29c75e35b7e6fb8356b3
01c68a87a56a48a0840177974c244ff255b79071
'2011-11-14T22:20:14-05:00'
describe
'1992' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPL' 'sip-files00023.txt'
20707a1e41778e0d8b975367a6ecfb92
6ed26ab3a43d4ea0c64f0f8a807bf29cb1e5fa10
describe
'10881' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPM' 'sip-files00023thm.jpg'
773de747fc1cb8899406fcd11315a873
f4d1008807f94138c3da92d2791d6cb4b869ec9b
'2011-11-14T22:23:50-05:00'
describe
'1012976' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPN' 'sip-files00024.jp2'
ab0a8cb7cba23209618c2977db298dfa
a6464de2ae411828bb66228dee9edf537071fa37
describe
'77530' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPO' 'sip-files00024.jpg'
c69478d2ae5b6b56d61094e370d5cc06
308fab125ec48598051376aaec2e0197b80be221
describe
'30651' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPP' 'sip-files00024.pro'
923d433b68045e53a6fdac6939c6c181
57e9c61b52a7566ec81443dbe3d8d6d0e96197cb
describe
'26978' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPQ' 'sip-files00024.QC.jpg'
b4aa18509938d4af1494dc873bbf3a47
ec447d8bb3b61f9792199932ea63bed9c0fc7bd3
'2011-11-14T22:24:50-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPR' 'sip-files00024.tif'
f5bdb5df4b6c398f35bbf3af77b39bdc
60af737041bea92e786ea06a4f3a4112cee2c457
'2011-11-14T22:25:17-05:00'
describe
'1313' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPS' 'sip-files00024.txt'
0ae14045c405fe57b73282b2b7446566
2919c813e395996bed247ba819ac14dd679c07e0
describe
'7553' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPT' 'sip-files00024thm.jpg'
f9162409e4e5a55cc7b4d6799f44edda
3125e3020b759fce685fa2fb3850f8af24c59f35
'2011-11-14T22:22:27-05:00'
describe
'996050' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPU' 'sip-files00025.jp2'
7554623f500c0c65d12543797a9eca42
d7b4a36fa5dfdf46cef0c0ee6f694097c8c2c999
describe
'83122' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPV' 'sip-files00025.jpg'
d06f1f57e8f036d6bc1187ad89d8f109
68db4af6dbac7c75fc2451dd4f29eb8e94d7a7c0
'2011-11-14T22:22:07-05:00'
describe
'35229' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPW' 'sip-files00025.pro'
94f0afb905b6a24b20bcc039d2eabb1f
ecf2a9c23557c67027833105e23c1708f494be7b
'2011-11-14T22:26:53-05:00'
describe
'28861' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPX' 'sip-files00025.QC.jpg'
9d3287447a5cd151f2847034dd90383b
1a44991ec5cc8bec7548e53531e5d2e88922816e
'2011-11-14T22:22:44-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPY' 'sip-files00025.tif'
9883ef9f13394ea4bb738ac9dcfc8496
ba1e3360034329d7d22e31c7cb4a046a75ffb39e
describe
'1517' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJPZ' 'sip-files00025.txt'
7e81cebedb1e360b0444e615104062d5
e5f1b5f0e88ad663a6bbc10512c17e08a1416c3b
'2011-11-14T22:24:09-05:00'
describe
'8245' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQA' 'sip-files00025thm.jpg'
5c9a22d5c6e51c5022cb72476309c89e
90cf63655229851ae814be04de6c22fbdd29ade9
'2011-11-14T22:20:09-05:00'
describe
'1012978' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQB' 'sip-files00026.jp2'
ad79fe7203b5bfa33f0433f4ec0a1ac2
dca8f9df0af3ebeb827a52097bffb3c7f065a144
'2011-11-14T22:26:26-05:00'
describe
'115981' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQC' 'sip-files00026.jpg'
2cbfc339d524d332e5da07a23a806cb5
84dab700b50065e6fa486d901c1a5d320765e304
describe
'48908' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQD' 'sip-files00026.pro'
fe25318db2fc7afc3eb548648176b343
45eae7949e74db1b91bb1d05cabe62a04647c232
'2011-11-14T22:24:17-05:00'
describe
'40428' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQE' 'sip-files00026.QC.jpg'
deedfd5f0661cd622c0762597b9115a3
b23aedf11184d677d4b11ccec77781d6f698fe00
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQF' 'sip-files00026.tif'
0751bac18a38cfcdc3584b421294fe06
ef21f5bc5afbbecfb5689222263b11622dc2789c
'2011-11-14T22:20:38-05:00'
describe
'2057' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQG' 'sip-files00026.txt'
18b33056861bb876bbb3a2c8e447204e
bb45389b6841ea0c9b03d8d4c07ee7366a3c2741
describe
'10548' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQH' 'sip-files00026thm.jpg'
f6d89753255ecff95eee248f82343f30
2a75dcb0157072fabbab43b32202f3a461045e13
describe
'996042' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQI' 'sip-files00027.jp2'
df0e213195f62174962dd4992d1146e7
07f16036d80db1a81f2c014ed8e5bcf21f4ca688
describe
'105917' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQJ' 'sip-files00027.jpg'
19357ab7644873a59b645584109a8289
f9c04796d19874ded72bf5595460be31c99f880d
'2011-11-14T22:23:33-05:00'
describe
'46234' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQK' 'sip-files00027.pro'
7cf620ebabebbf717d41dfb47a173a31
3846cecf16bec52f3b832c86a17de68a8a00e830
describe
'37585' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQL' 'sip-files00027.QC.jpg'
311e348bb0fd78256458a877bf4aa5c0
1a3553938bca1b18e1fda74a117e584f4ba70155
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQM' 'sip-files00027.tif'
461b54d429a5a0c6c54413c265f84b95
c8d7d5afc4feb4b68ec483d5c3fb036c86a6a088
'2011-11-14T22:25:59-05:00'
describe
'1945' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQN' 'sip-files00027.txt'
befa2212c51da4669863e9bc5bcc62de
7f82ddf8815e16a8964084ce77340c2ec4891041
'2011-11-14T22:25:44-05:00'
describe
'10665' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQO' 'sip-files00027thm.jpg'
4b3aeeb486852486c2cdecda42e70d3e
eb4d0d8e027a4b0fc01463e4a15fb1097aee2f47
'2011-11-14T22:27:20-05:00'
describe
'1012996' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQP' 'sip-files00028.jp2'
8df2812fb9f2b1b53d20c4267bbf5ac4
cfec01457138f3eff420948442f2717ce27525d7
describe
'82015' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQQ' 'sip-files00028.jpg'
a5512b5537ca3d1165bbf8a4bc861645
a4b04cea055ff67c8ad24afa68b882ff95fe681b
describe
'36362' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQR' 'sip-files00028.pro'
075f9bff73b4e0045fd9b228fc54aad2
7a502ab7af27e0aeab3b5ed8099ca23a0a86038a
describe
'28057' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQS' 'sip-files00028.QC.jpg'
0e7fb735b2a6d9f41790aaf161083689
6f48aeaed0df1c3122de9a1127056973364c8a3f
'2011-11-14T22:21:18-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQT' 'sip-files00028.tif'
9c8535fe63c8fce565be266da8a66d0b
c30eae2ff894e1455870c5b8e2ad4da2c1692a1c
'2011-11-14T22:22:02-05:00'
describe
'1744' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQU' 'sip-files00028.txt'
0dd98c8ab83e81da5f004edd25bc2337
9068d7dae1c04612e3d1af384e3b499c03e62f6f
'2011-11-14T22:23:13-05:00'
describe
'7731' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQV' 'sip-files00028thm.jpg'
9970aaa788fba6df77aac61264d06f58
5eda5b48498a10e92a095fdb0c3d7bc6600cba40
describe
'996085' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQW' 'sip-files00029.jp2'
b7d10d5c289e6ab333343a90eb646588
439f22738ec7a153606b781577243893b3314dea
describe
'78542' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQX' 'sip-files00029.jpg'
418c599ead044d63334f8113e9dfec2a
4c174d209ab8a75e3a1930981e7bbb51c8ea2985
'2011-11-14T22:21:48-05:00'
describe
'33626' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQY' 'sip-files00029.pro'
f92b86f52b4e116f5677d9962482bca3
7314ecf5613552ec3e3fd54bfb71739faa86ef09
'2011-11-14T22:27:18-05:00'
describe
'27524' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJQZ' 'sip-files00029.QC.jpg'
540839997ad4004274140af7a7eda6e4
2bc7316172e07b362f2c564f1f2ace35d6743f12
'2011-11-14T22:25:07-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRA' 'sip-files00029.tif'
bb39929c667219f03ee578ffc48f5b19
197f8199e0e081e22db26ffa536d1e7683ef174e
'2011-11-14T22:20:42-05:00'
describe
'1461' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRB' 'sip-files00029.txt'
1d2f326863bfa44dbe4abe5b2ee14663
a69ec39b0bc863a998506f767069bfecc30a819d
'2011-11-14T22:24:54-05:00'
describe
'7983' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRC' 'sip-files00029thm.jpg'
56b113b96ebc1e72a02f89cb76cca039
93b0a0051aa1b62e108448022dc3f9b69155efee
'2011-11-14T22:24:58-05:00'
describe
'1013011' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRD' 'sip-files00030.jp2'
996012327b4f9cbacdfbfb0d1e5e82fd
aacc8b715b33538172be0d8c20569168fec46276
'2011-11-14T22:25:38-05:00'
describe
'85018' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRE' 'sip-files00030.jpg'
38d310edf2fb5e0786f1532c6c0c8fb1
61d5b518a56669f8a2cf08852bcdeb732432b1e9
'2011-11-14T22:27:11-05:00'
describe
'34376' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRF' 'sip-files00030.pro'
d8345eda0bc40acc3803725bf976286c
c9941d9852442be82e5ee23761ddc801f5ddcd71
'2011-11-14T22:24:37-05:00'
describe
'29205' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRG' 'sip-files00030.QC.jpg'
bfdf61c5f97c8af52b7f813f90722708
b6f541bf5f95ec7d177d0cc419de0b1e4a088cf0
'2011-11-14T22:21:53-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRH' 'sip-files00030.tif'
c4470a5935caa1cfacca6c7d7c7bce79
04106591a8a5feb52f792d1df0c000c010445d49
'2011-11-14T22:23:28-05:00'
describe
'1501' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRI' 'sip-files00030.txt'
db30da799d45e2c5783ad9a811cc438f
1a778d95d80381997191f81c6096915d3606abc6
describe
'8269' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRJ' 'sip-files00030thm.jpg'
271d73db190a7593d2b3451b31a6d478
5640527b4f490a663051b1ade1392e77894bb576
describe
'1020957' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRK' 'sip-files00031.jp2'
c138a3a65ea82e19d8a1d6a1accd2149
b12509821d0fb1e5af686f6e1a82c43d486ac9b0
describe
'108811' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRL' 'sip-files00031.jpg'
20af6318daf2994fa3ad3ee154869b1c
ad46a9feccb0a4a2fd5532f299ef0cbfe1400929
'2011-11-14T22:23:39-05:00'
describe
'45726' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRM' 'sip-files00031.pro'
9b8326f36bedb1408a7be7a7f1dddfc9
25d8372f546f000eb4fabdd882c2eb46d5823d8b
'2011-11-14T22:25:42-05:00'
describe
'38771' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRN' 'sip-files00031.QC.jpg'
53c4d07625de55d4a14b82d582208c5b
173bab575ad2cde7fef656b5531bf7184ee5743f
'2011-11-14T22:22:45-05:00'
describe
'8173197' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRO' 'sip-files00031.tif'
2038282043883bf1c8e5dd2fa74d027c
adcd73b8a89f049fd8a20541bdeb3a2c689a1c1f
'2011-11-14T22:22:43-05:00'
describe
'1943' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRP' 'sip-files00031.txt'
7df19e04e9c3deaaf6a836e163c1dbcb
a5f5a0938f8c94f0bd9765862e685a59ff7744e7
'2011-11-14T22:20:27-05:00'
describe
'10984' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRQ' 'sip-files00031thm.jpg'
e652a05c7f34f4b3dbcddd04ee133fbf
8296474d09d339997d1805bdc17458d525bc6fea
'2011-11-14T22:25:12-05:00'
describe
'1001927' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRR' 'sip-files00032.jp2'
212634cbf30123ecfa4a30dae5c1a59d
88321c0a39eb5ebb619b384fa207994c328f2fff
'2011-11-14T22:24:22-05:00'
describe
'88262' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRS' 'sip-files00032.jpg'
eb4e3c2eb64c49d642386ff747c9532e
b12486ea1d5585fa830fe9872856a23c33ddd24c
describe
'42175' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRT' 'sip-files00032.pro'
05228afa6db067c4350a4fd40351bec8
5d0db6c68e8a3124365eafed8e44dc3ab2829b73
'2011-11-14T22:21:06-05:00'
describe
'29033' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRU' 'sip-files00032.QC.jpg'
2268ba0a844c258b5dc34358a7850537
c2f4ad7a9d8f34294910dcc4aaf3efd70435ba2f
'2011-11-14T22:20:24-05:00'
describe
'8021033' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRV' 'sip-files00032.tif'
535f140e82a81d81838b294e2ecdc561
de9e58553a27a4c37968526bdd4232143804792f
'2011-11-14T22:20:33-05:00'
describe
'1782' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRW' 'sip-files00032.txt'
8355d038797e49b9c7954aa98ae53d10
ddb96f9dbec04cccf174b55d637b6dc2636464fb
'2011-11-14T22:27:09-05:00'
describe
'8581' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRX' 'sip-files00032thm.jpg'
fac4f00775b1b5b91e5531ed25b1f347
6c6565fb445399a41247e91f772da294d76941a7
'2011-11-14T22:24:48-05:00'
describe
'1029064' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRY' 'sip-files00033.jp2'
f891e750d6fb871ce21768ef6113892c
2b733b3b77e95eb500b76564257a30ad1457a369
'2011-11-14T22:20:34-05:00'
describe
'105268' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJRZ' 'sip-files00033.jpg'
32e265221a78275fe99d3058c083a9a1
3f6173ce6c946a369a0bdd88726801641015ad80
'2011-11-14T22:21:56-05:00'
describe
'46405' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSA' 'sip-files00033.pro'
e7b02a12528fb6ee9804f0babc60c333
b69d67216148b0578ebc7423cd76102431d9a1f9
'2011-11-14T22:22:18-05:00'
describe
'36772' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSB' 'sip-files00033.QC.jpg'
1e28193ceb42e2f2272d1fe032631eb4
6b4e0ca4fdbcb23093a76c8ead20da37fde5dea3
describe
'8238825' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSC' 'sip-files00033.tif'
a7f9e75b622b71f318882c7d450a615a
c921366a4cd30c12d3d744f81b12a6a8c44576fb
'2011-11-14T22:25:08-05:00'
describe
'1962' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSD' 'sip-files00033.txt'
18e9d990758922e9f4399c29c20eab68
9729d11ec7125503820f473b7f3a29149e2a3cea
'2011-11-14T22:21:25-05:00'
describe
'10372' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSE' 'sip-files00033thm.jpg'
d5c9c6ee3ff401d4683b2dd889a7802d
9a68737b87bc074d0f401971c3e64742393c8336
'2011-11-14T22:21:27-05:00'
describe
'1048206' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSF' 'sip-files00034.jp2'
b11c5a534235f738a020399d2efc3466
8f62e81edb8d982f761a427d41cef0680215f712
'2011-11-14T22:26:59-05:00'
describe
'112111' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSG' 'sip-files00034.jpg'
7cf56c2dc9d91727b058362e1502ec5f
ebb406496c3c2eae19295f43c6f3ff049261a9cb
describe
'47340' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSH' 'sip-files00034.pro'
0084af97330f2c48310fe32abe12fa0e
3887a9cade8294a7d1bcf95e409eed39794b156c
'2011-11-14T22:23:48-05:00'
describe
'38830' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSI' 'sip-files00034.QC.jpg'
d09fea3339efc7d5c5f124785ebfa961
0d1d77562b00d5bfbd7709b0609b2cbb8efdb7fa
'2011-11-14T22:23:20-05:00'
describe
'8391957' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSJ' 'sip-files00034.tif'
b62207679e6264d036d5cfa6cd1fde15
010d566e04a00397906ce4e69836470e032e751e
'2011-11-14T22:25:05-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSK' 'sip-files00034.txt'
dfa4375ada617c378815ab0f383583f2
7a886f604559cefea09bd5b52e4908bf06940ccf
'2011-11-14T22:26:45-05:00'
describe
'11298' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSL' 'sip-files00034thm.jpg'
4c0fb43fa68c2b967cfd11b183e1082e
8d53d5e4ba0ff93306e15430a5521f3577f6b53c
'2011-11-14T22:26:56-05:00'
describe
'1034544' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSM' 'sip-files00035.jp2'
d8c9e787559a21b178be478e5ec7923f
26f48b4a0d31c65a88d96f99858756666bd44352
'2011-11-14T22:20:37-05:00'
describe
'105149' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSN' 'sip-files00035.jpg'
3eeaeb221f60ccf57e926027d4d08e2c
798f6cbee72138203d7e37e483d5986f0de1fa4d
describe
'44242' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSO' 'sip-files00035.pro'
c623a6839796f771e560b999f0b84728
24249cb27e931601b96ef24a7d86a432bfe3b3f0
'2011-11-14T22:23:31-05:00'
describe
'38019' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSP' 'sip-files00035.QC.jpg'
d56c8619be4a43575843e2d431df4eaf
8f1b5ee2fc135e111447d1360aea7c47d7c5e9e7
'2011-11-14T22:24:23-05:00'
describe
'8285833' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSQ' 'sip-files00035.tif'
e308ccfe347fdacb8a5d41328ddb6032
f58cd3f7c8ae5ba7ab3ca5b657f547d8052b47a0
'2011-11-14T22:24:43-05:00'
describe
'1876' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSR' 'sip-files00035.txt'
b1b1fa58f9070bd67cea9b2b8777403b
1d12eb69495a284076a43e78afdbf667427709fd
'2011-11-14T22:21:07-05:00'
describe
'11320' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSS' 'sip-files00035thm.jpg'
229c485dbb3c76c9ae90a7531fb8df07
6313bc67386b53a67bd6690ad105559b2d10c355
'2011-11-14T22:25:00-05:00'
describe
'1004249' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJST' 'sip-files00036.jp2'
03c688de3e1d2d2e0baa494e1adfab9e
49c0fdb6004a1de468d9d5dd4dde747b543b3fe7
'2011-11-14T22:22:22-05:00'
describe
'111216' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSU' 'sip-files00036.jpg'
218f6699b572a742d560691135497238
3a2d9910345df0ad8809c7c0a695e281891155eb
'2011-11-14T22:20:51-05:00'
describe
'45694' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSV' 'sip-files00036.pro'
659824296bfbabcff472224bc7f07fcc
bd0832a595ef3ca144469cabebe054e130e60dc7
'2011-11-14T22:25:48-05:00'
describe
'40081' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSW' 'sip-files00036.QC.jpg'
f85af7756df7119571955decd855ce99
6590545f1593903eb6d07c7a823b8ee239a2837c
'2011-11-14T22:27:13-05:00'
describe
'8043521' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSX' 'sip-files00036.tif'
fc812e5e5beb42b9dfd853418494193d
c4241afa9a8d7f31deec22a9f573072dcb9485d9
'2011-11-14T22:20:21-05:00'
describe
'1889' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSY' 'sip-files00036.txt'
d2e5f0d765aeab90d254bcc66730cfe8
fbd95dd9f5f9e7016963c73bd232f99477447214
'2011-11-14T22:22:37-05:00'
describe
'10900' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJSZ' 'sip-files00036thm.jpg'
b0fd0c135fa32e9f67e454a326256105
2362ae370ea28b861637f01119ff8507bfe8268b
describe
'1034534' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTA' 'sip-files00037.jp2'
b6196b5fb5f2b7c12eb66524a1b25d62
1b7ff21615f5136b123a854f53cab8b39ad8c39e
'2011-11-14T22:20:52-05:00'
describe
'102930' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTB' 'sip-files00037.jpg'
2455fba2552174e9f5b61a16e5d621f2
ce2f29e9707d7c344f71616e539a333cd5df58e3
describe
'43239' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTC' 'sip-files00037.pro'
7279f7e36ea913d7414797ba30527338
3cc82b95eef7d3fba376cbfea57d24d8ab7aa60a
describe
'36820' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTD' 'sip-files00037.QC.jpg'
ed7ed4401e95cfc8db9ea482bc695b3b
ba16f6c9d10ec9e4f9c316aa8abbb569828aa1b7
'2011-11-14T22:23:19-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTE' 'sip-files00037.tif'
2525fd0e2b17856aa37b32b79b50d92f
46a2cea20157f9593dc17989e22779bb5d683eb6
'2011-11-14T22:24:20-05:00'
describe
'1815' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTF' 'sip-files00037.txt'
9de826e84ce7b0e1ca0c2176e46a5350
bc495ed49472e8c245776c0639027a7ded7012eb
describe
'11073' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTG' 'sip-files00037thm.jpg'
413f7b1d65e06cba28f27362b2f27b32
3470b105d70e698478035ed8eb09786fb24c3a85
'2011-11-14T22:27:16-05:00'
describe
'951073' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTH' 'sip-files00038.jp2'
4d7410f27f44d8271bf09ca929ca71cc
74c6c6aa5664228aeaba7b2edd4534854a77386f
'2011-11-14T22:26:42-05:00'
describe
'59786' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTI' 'sip-files00038.jpg'
c3be95955f29d6b6a2a9967c06279c84
910fa5bd6406cca724e6f3b1b2d317f241d303a2
'2011-11-14T22:26:14-05:00'
describe
'20728' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTJ' 'sip-files00038.pro'
20ff41199547c7f7d5a1b599d8898657
17f7afa41bf9f5cab4ffb8b71ad40ca9fb84ef4a
describe
'20648' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTK' 'sip-files00038.QC.jpg'
7019977de8a23d37d133dc2edbbb7230
2f2776bda3b2eca37bdb0fed6b967ac011e59890
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTL' 'sip-files00038.tif'
e2219e93a249693068fd08364c7be76f
574bde5d5637b3a8186caf946eed7f61e062b08e
describe
'891' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTM' 'sip-files00038.txt'
f38270c17161312133941bd385a54ea7
65c37b2c92f24c5633437c5f0eb9e6acae3c9b2a
describe
'5938' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTN' 'sip-files00038thm.jpg'
63bbf807a480b82bd8a64f307dcf848f
0c8f3bf4070805f2c45c681103e45a9440590e98
'2011-11-14T22:24:16-05:00'
describe
'1034508' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTO' 'sip-files00039.jp2'
29222d903d6257cd2ac4b5ecff44c10d
65cbf896ed3c4201624ce3373267328426aea0c6
describe
'81405' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTP' 'sip-files00039.jpg'
0ae6bd59f7de1a5a9b4c495c6889d0f3
a051b29c24df08ff6ac7d487cbfb384921e0512d
describe
'34474' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTQ' 'sip-files00039.pro'
f831ec9cd6d7cd1a43e9d237a0c4a4aa
59486d219f57d2ccf7ba9a7e806c09ec511e1345
describe
'28920' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTR' 'sip-files00039.QC.jpg'
a9e7f2a92cdb4bcb0e6164ec0b5778e7
24097a532e2a7c002de4c1502b233b1979da28f4
'2011-11-14T22:21:05-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTS' 'sip-files00039.tif'
49bb68d610c55fee85bda8171ee171b9
aeee6df231ddd0518903e0b6ef16ef844992d598
describe
'1564' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTT' 'sip-files00039.txt'
3f8ddd90546e1d1f9b192e3150bc2d7f
0a41b60a36065b466ec600e9b1c0e804a715ea8e
describe
'8868' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTU' 'sip-files00039thm.jpg'
1386325d9c4732a9b3c7afe173aaf02b
9e3b71a0108befd25d05c0e9e8f0d2e26b8d81d2
describe
'1004233' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTV' 'sip-files00040.jp2'
17b2d308dc598fa21c6f7f99087a6c21
f5c611e7942366c3623148bfec519386f4a2549f
'2011-11-14T22:21:42-05:00'
describe
'96447' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTW' 'sip-files00040.jpg'
77356e0fa28512b7b41e78b2ff6b53aa
15a5daf58384dcd1b789242be846a127f7a6e7c0
'2011-11-14T22:26:02-05:00'
describe
'40461' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTX' 'sip-files00040.pro'
ddbdbb6dd0001fa698e68acae99ccfe7
c19be3700e0430ee7da2c5c1e0e0342f6bbdd086
describe
'34218' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTY' 'sip-files00040.QC.jpg'
37e41bb2f5b2430fb3a384974029d601
1e6a137473e469b1ae4c9e9737852cac816790c1
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJTZ' 'sip-files00040.tif'
fef25dfb9bace955d684d50de9d5ac04
7b57c0e9094558e88ca4944132a43283733e60f8
describe
'1831' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUA' 'sip-files00040.txt'
6e175a8cd551ceabb656f2b1a34db0fc
1cefa58f5f669f6f882dd7d0555e3c0e153ef777
'2011-11-14T22:21:21-05:00'
describe
'9632' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUB' 'sip-files00040thm.jpg'
5c960dc0da636ed14145388eeaf64edf
4022ea4dde8a97caeeae86bd7333dd60dc551136
describe
'1034549' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUC' 'sip-files00041.jp2'
9f88d932fe9acd3d359b8952075fee4c
abc98c4a46af66983bf859ab80b8f1314dfec01d
'2011-11-14T22:26:57-05:00'
describe
'97237' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUD' 'sip-files00041.jpg'
8dc74698d0d8dbbf6b3851680139f059
4da4bcab2e6b00d310acedd42e15d0e837374e1b
describe
'42899' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUE' 'sip-files00041.pro'
76371ebbc7a440cc0e147e8b3930b3a8
464ffffc9f707ccd8d98a61d9276b9ae4ac13cc8
'2011-11-14T22:20:36-05:00'
describe
'34772' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUF' 'sip-files00041.QC.jpg'
24a1100debcaa43aa3025a601ca0d255
768a992183e8d4398385d834dc1db76e22233e43
'2011-11-14T22:23:46-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUG' 'sip-files00041.tif'
40844f08f9469f92ec9978617602cdc1
531c7534a218be6ab8e142da0b5411b23cc111dc
'2011-11-14T22:23:52-05:00'
describe
'1913' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUH' 'sip-files00041.txt'
a4b3f933db3db61a4ed34b375eb9f822
098d2839ac30d830b7e49d743a0127589c597313
'2011-11-14T22:25:01-05:00'
describe
'10084' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUI' 'sip-files00041thm.jpg'
1c8098ac9dee8ee998c2e8654c6fb7b1
7c5597ae2b9983bdd1b87fe36650d747ea3cb57a
'2011-11-14T22:20:13-05:00'
describe
'1004270' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUJ' 'sip-files00042.jp2'
b4ae6fe4a8cecf46fb19a7db65638a9f
575610d807a34483b4e40e10868c789af5002773
'2011-11-14T22:22:14-05:00'
describe
'99881' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUK' 'sip-files00042.jpg'
ad05943ade9020f38a3818195ccefc64
e35ad25d5929ad4ec53c4d34616a5992fcb724b6
describe
'42128' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUL' 'sip-files00042.pro'
bad28371acfb58772a699a6acbf4b4aa
08170e098f878478d27559e546d68e1ff24d5cd2
describe
'35138' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUM' 'sip-files00042.QC.jpg'
aec429c7dd83377833c50dd8b67b6304
fe97fc9f929ff643ec98c1f69e493e22062666d1
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUN' 'sip-files00042.tif'
5c7c656358097a681ca145f73301f421
6642dbc8cb9159a4ce91702a7ea8be0579c295ba
describe
'1838' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUO' 'sip-files00042.txt'
5371af72238d5822f964ae0bbc7bf917
37d202578fe8c64f379f984a5ad7a321597c2e21
'2011-11-14T22:26:03-05:00'
describe
'9649' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUP' 'sip-files00042thm.jpg'
524b9738bbf12156be437b8de58f3679
dc8f1c107c7dab2aa7d489351897b507d9f3533e
describe
'1034545' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUQ' 'sip-files00043.jp2'
1271419ac9c96c8ce10646124753a4b4
533f0c08e6629e9edbe2a4b1a4a6dd6d7b58208b
describe
'112491' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUR' 'sip-files00043.jpg'
63c1cc07bb32f94a81f02f623b34012d
61ec9e58ca8183f4528091f04fb56d242b59b314
'2011-11-14T22:21:39-05:00'
describe
'46675' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUS' 'sip-files00043.pro'
8cfb57c465ae3879b3739a48f89b42e9
22265b75694616eacd01d0bc022e3a5d28c98f4f
'2011-11-14T22:23:24-05:00'
describe
'40004' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUT' 'sip-files00043.QC.jpg'
a7ac02e6197bb8ee6f816f21683da8b8
5aae48bc9c0ef106bfe933c7a47e26b6d0772a83
'2011-11-14T22:26:31-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUU' 'sip-files00043.tif'
2d7860928adc8665663907bfee50db41
8ee6ecf51e6efe023476123caf18c97269218733
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUV' 'sip-files00043.txt'
e48b540e8ccb3a8822c6b2a4c5e147a5
818fee8b5ae6c087265a80d672ab8c9144d292fd
describe
'11688' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUW' 'sip-files00043thm.jpg'
e85ab63e1c89f10b135a20ebe034bc9e
b2347e13cd74b7e43e2eb5e85d3744fa39ea5f10
'2011-11-14T22:26:29-05:00'
describe
'1004258' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUX' 'sip-files00044.jp2'
06593692b98b4498ccf92ff2c16a437a
3575ec56547ea1b5cd5de1b2630064cad41217ec
'2011-11-14T22:20:17-05:00'
describe
'110591' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUY' 'sip-files00044.jpg'
40cde7bfd9f016a321a2f9e66ac03c51
9c7e0e780c1a0ed3a51ea0d6bff28f477764820c
'2011-11-14T22:21:14-05:00'
describe
'44922' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJUZ' 'sip-files00044.pro'
d91a4ac35c6f684f6874fd29ad1286e4
f4e7178adee9f5b8d0105d544116772d6c19018e
'2011-11-14T22:22:59-05:00'
describe
'39161' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVA' 'sip-files00044.QC.jpg'
d0437cfd9289da325f5c7c94ee3af849
782f9e5a7660bd4c19c7d135794d21ca79edc08a
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVB' 'sip-files00044.tif'
029fd141f1c5257592059bfcb71b40c4
777af8b33e055d0339faa6e5a02278416137ccbb
'2011-11-14T22:26:58-05:00'
describe
'1866' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVC' 'sip-files00044.txt'
e508373ff9c32f465e9d6721081f0c8a
6479d1b79edf72c721f894bd9c0bcb80bc63f24c
describe
'10906' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVD' 'sip-files00044thm.jpg'
5a99c235e81332848f4fc07ddca31798
ef7ff8548ed1bb18f5329cd09ec81ac084060dec
'2011-11-14T22:20:02-05:00'
describe
'1034519' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVE' 'sip-files00045.jp2'
7578f7423f0f1ec4cf4a128678d1a4cf
b3020e7ddae981555d12ce4ef289624c8728b77e
describe
'103388' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVF' 'sip-files00045.jpg'
cab1b959b572942c7e8bfee78d833cda
cc320ed8d722b3e9f7e4ee1869909b9fed5d3539
'2011-11-14T22:21:23-05:00'
describe
'42980' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVG' 'sip-files00045.pro'
bb129d1c20347243f5ea4f04648753d0
c02a477ff9736af9560550d6b91954431f17d4dc
'2011-11-14T22:26:15-05:00'
describe
'36882' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVH' 'sip-files00045.QC.jpg'
52e51ea248e3545795c46d6f94ea4032
eb4f5611119895d430f525dd1673b17944a10463
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVI' 'sip-files00045.tif'
8d5a629876690fda22c566727c227d37
3909f08fbaa35ea96239c3a14b1096eab22d955f
'2011-11-14T22:26:20-05:00'
describe
'1805' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVJ' 'sip-files00045.txt'
57efd1872c387a44847edeca4038bcef
712424072cf07b416dd10219e33e3a69a872cb7f
describe
'10725' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVK' 'sip-files00045thm.jpg'
720144ae6d645e78d5526e41b5ec96d9
6420daacdba0ce4ecbc7c039ecbd042911bf3a5f
describe
'1004219' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVL' 'sip-files00046.jp2'
7d2446eef7eef51ad39dd04b038e87ca
ab646f51659388a865a5ecc5679140d9085c4069
'2011-11-14T22:27:21-05:00'
describe
'81359' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVM' 'sip-files00046.jpg'
41d9360a924f54ab2f0519e9e9f3eafc
a75095bcddd1f35f6f0e5ad6ef76a002cbe4fff4
'2011-11-14T22:24:12-05:00'
describe
'33290' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVN' 'sip-files00046.pro'
3dcaec61f5c5bac7a85f280dc595f603
4d56e6dd622f112da0dc23abd0babce211791b29
describe
'28015' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVO' 'sip-files00046.QC.jpg'
9dcf341c4a9ddc160aa49d6ba34ee6a3
abcdd5db2383e5ec1d2dbcb7ae1ed90fb63e2b75
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVP' 'sip-files00046.tif'
aaae9b94a95696e47d9e08d7b59a1c9b
0495626c187d2125f2c2a30f03cbe7e8e520e737
'2011-11-14T22:22:48-05:00'
describe
'1464' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVQ' 'sip-files00046.txt'
22964abf0b7764f94e574afe9b252ff6
33c4ee6d797a1b659c35b4561d0d9638b830755d
describe
'8063' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVR' 'sip-files00046thm.jpg'
a3d51b29746d4b241fafbe54eeac972b
de128bcdf23fe6d8e564760c63c471d4d4f8d3c4
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVS' 'sip-files00047.jp2'
e1854ad739131c59208eccda6ece5f8a
5642602eac6e6966c50026ed0be5cdde81060b78
describe
'108181' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVT' 'sip-files00047.jpg'
147948c5fd9b76927f6e26ad27050c39
d2ced1c6f6f8068ead99c953fcb2ba0f921768eb
describe
'45623' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVU' 'sip-files00047.pro'
aeb1c9de60ad9dc17700de74d52da1f2
51f27a83c025ab1587973cd94ca0be65db767b80
describe
'38721' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVV' 'sip-files00047.QC.jpg'
a7a7799f5dc4a395c1abb69f84253c59
1963e53f5eb9818cd23849b68a7e053cd7bfab62
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVW' 'sip-files00047.tif'
1eb8aeb3bb21a1fc329d2f2a3be05611
3b1a78ad53d60697340b899281f124461ebf814b
'2011-11-14T22:22:38-05:00'
describe
'1938' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVX' 'sip-files00047.txt'
6d6c3bb8d63d4484fb5c10a936e73242
713e16127bc97dd02bcd7883c7ec03a25a413ea2
describe
'11256' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVY' 'sip-files00047thm.jpg'
ce6abc01dd8eed8ce5ffc764907014dd
429135c0b7bd2371928005a1e30dc5e6695a9fbb
describe
'1004255' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJVZ' 'sip-files00048.jp2'
0b51d783d90ea84e73baf0e32bfa84de
998cf9cc7073c5f49a7ec564b15d6f2dec204be5
'2011-11-14T22:20:40-05:00'
describe
'97107' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWA' 'sip-files00048.jpg'
bf375c42fe7775fc59dac33639995a9c
5bbb3bcfa3bfd7d580129b8a0586e9a70fd539b6
'2011-11-14T22:20:06-05:00'
describe
'42039' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWB' 'sip-files00048.pro'
ad2818531f3c994aa6cc9fcbf1b6d4b8
11cd03b5985a9948bc6aeb9a3c0d8afc2ef3aa96
'2011-11-14T22:21:01-05:00'
describe
'33972' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWC' 'sip-files00048.QC.jpg'
0a0d57dc1fa744678ac32380455f2fd0
dc2cb46b9987fa1cb6d6f92d9960f4bbfa97bf51
'2011-11-14T22:24:55-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWD' 'sip-files00048.tif'
156bd3a3323818fd5ff33b2dfb569127
8225e9d22b8b5118074d9f5fe9b46679ce475631
'2011-11-14T22:21:20-05:00'
describe
'1926' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWE' 'sip-files00048.txt'
2d4de90cd2cb18cf01fe479ffcf7dd79
1a202972b2ba76a5334f3f0d8b14ae244532ed27
describe
'9532' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWF' 'sip-files00048thm.jpg'
94fd1ba431eb18d71f8ebc7ecb5e3b1a
a765f77ba073c6b8337c3e4cb3ca1be273c43c02
describe
'1034540' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWG' 'sip-files00049.jp2'
7b9ba6ce4b29e6e5b7f58832442e83f6
eeabc831a48ac4dc33f0e2a4ee907e0a5fe040df
describe
'101382' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWH' 'sip-files00049.jpg'
9baef8a5faba7bc1f0f8256c8df12c2d
1e31988327df34f49a33db1e638e6cb0816b82c6
describe
'43275' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWI' 'sip-files00049.pro'
ce0e9e7a7611ae448657a2eb1062b4fc
171640148863b47f2233b97a91200ec34e1f3cc9
describe
'36162' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWJ' 'sip-files00049.QC.jpg'
729ef3cf7ba01930d608c27d67d09f49
fab035e1474351c95a801719a0dd5fcfd84d7601
'2011-11-14T22:23:44-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWK' 'sip-files00049.tif'
3593d083704d9ffc1a39909e1ca4afe3
b809a58e8e57ff91a366f097fbccb881d9ac5845
'2011-11-14T22:22:24-05:00'
describe
'1848' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWL' 'sip-files00049.txt'
77a6935b29cb3a471b5444a71f479990
bf8cc82be4b7c59b9920cd07ea8ea81aa4ed04e8
describe
'10684' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWM' 'sip-files00049thm.jpg'
53c8573cebf829883ad2910a6e52edde
a9c6704a8421396e1f0d502e046aabbc93345c81
'2011-11-14T22:20:15-05:00'
describe
'1004262' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWN' 'sip-files00050.jp2'
0e1b1dd1aa5dbfc7b9a2854df66cab6c
f7b84455c544b5c2f0fc5bcb31e4bbd4b6bde8cc
describe
'110212' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWO' 'sip-files00050.jpg'
8ccd49e17a58ee09e9ba7f81bc944146
7f8142ce9bdb7fff64161cee70d63d54144f445d
describe
'45557' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWP' 'sip-files00050.pro'
2b2affeafa3c5180620a9da43a674414
3c3698dfca3c44b1226f8ff165293c85563be383
'2011-11-14T22:23:36-05:00'
describe
'39106' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWQ' 'sip-files00050.QC.jpg'
971889aa3406a78c5189604c3f649731
0f28c0199f9b26003b87d8d5ea96b7146f7f8e9a
'2011-11-14T22:20:44-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWR' 'sip-files00050.tif'
f412cd1274518bf0925db7f25961684b
192f666ab1a59dae71754523d9d5c5bee87340ae
'2011-11-14T22:25:36-05:00'
describe
'1901' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWS' 'sip-files00050.txt'
b97220d3243b64bed1a23cf1dd33d0b4
99ba997029b50070d89b59ffea5a6d2f44083eb3
describe
'10664' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWT' 'sip-files00050thm.jpg'
3886df89dd620295bc93d25cbc3aab4b
9fd99282474b8fdb6c85e1d2be4a3bb716f8f26a
describe
'1034529' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWU' 'sip-files00051.jp2'
d143e36d4be934785293f8282e983f20
acd29a3a028cfb9a4f67926b496cea8fa3db534d
describe
'111208' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWV' 'sip-files00051.jpg'
668b215c907c001bf081690d6330e4ad
cd61ffee6d8bbef2fad99ef4b9176ac28e2bf810
describe
'46942' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWW' 'sip-files00051.pro'
b1d66b3340286fe8985fae3f089e5d6f
2d581b99b6b345ab36582d7da003fde2c993f97f
'2011-11-14T22:20:26-05:00'
describe
'39749' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWX' 'sip-files00051.QC.jpg'
d7ab5c922acd9f8c2f3d1cb1cbbbc324
d48ff0a3d2e0fa0d53d415a4d33fcdaec0fcf1a2
'2011-11-14T22:25:11-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWY' 'sip-files00051.tif'
465a205918347e7716cdacfb31e05d39
1b19d1fdc8ffcf7095598231ac503e2afc387ec5
'2011-11-14T22:27:02-05:00'
describe
'1986' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJWZ' 'sip-files00051.txt'
3d747ed6e0b47dc1c482ee0698bc33f4
800083affa7eca35c59cc70e44d35ba23c51b074
describe
'11544' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXA' 'sip-files00051thm.jpg'
e88d6744b9c7f0867cc7b1a75dcf949a
13b3ae5c70db4f129d2bd2094c7bc72d501a477e
'2011-11-14T22:21:31-05:00'
describe
'1004243' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXB' 'sip-files00052.jp2'
2a08d17549a049ad72a9ac7896f998ea
03011d976ce4f6aea9ce14bd560b697653d7a402
'2011-11-14T22:23:16-05:00'
describe
'73109' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXC' 'sip-files00052.jpg'
e31230c830869274c6e0d87e157dd51e
97765c7975a1dd567f611293019c4a965a792a2a
'2011-11-14T22:21:32-05:00'
describe
'26867' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXD' 'sip-files00052.pro'
2dc9a453a343baf81f7d524d0d867226
135f0bace0a45145bd58a7c044ea40e7b5af4f8f
describe
'25574' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXE' 'sip-files00052.QC.jpg'
d8d4443112b0fdab50d2a1d085a2b3c3
58615edbde9ca6e9c2cabf5c63e92e81ad444406
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXF' 'sip-files00052.tif'
fd1ec88c09b476db005e70c7111ec810
376f49695a3898990bc617dafddf03d76d71b76f
'2011-11-14T22:24:49-05:00'
describe
'1143' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXG' 'sip-files00052.txt'
cce3906e9393fc7312dd25fd44791d93
d9d8201b4fce1ec46d0fdc780be4e2f57546b7f0
describe
'7263' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXH' 'sip-files00052thm.jpg'
22f0706c6aa9eca706da1b9b073414a9
26e11914c032120b10fb373c491388c3a5af1083
describe
'990526' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXI' 'sip-files00053.jp2'
6cc4cde6c4f3205eee714b823c3acfd3
080e023837c2004cc9dbc6483ad6dadbfb39cd77
'2011-11-14T22:26:33-05:00'
describe
'79787' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXJ' 'sip-files00053.jpg'
b969ed30c7f9b52bdf730fd213b31e8b
3fe246c032cbd4b5895daf4ac594ec83599e7892
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXK' 'sip-files00053.pro'
157cfd695cedb4e8f886a4f9a3f3740a
3afc5f368e453d679a5d92aeca9450b04204a330
'2011-11-14T22:20:35-05:00'
describe
'27897' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXL' 'sip-files00053.QC.jpg'
9ec9ba537412214ef9e7138ae78936b7
ddee9e0454fb38b85ace2e7ad20aa72ce4ca56a2
'2011-11-14T22:26:24-05:00'
describe
'7933889' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXM' 'sip-files00053.tif'
4110ec1b13bd230b0cf77570d0c587f0
e77673f41a3b2d830ce8cb621da6c70c92978e02
describe
'1463' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXN' 'sip-files00053.txt'
f58bf51a3b3c44520fb4e305f57bd52b
b044a8f1a674b5f9690a2efd35c32f48a2336ee8
describe
'8093' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXO' 'sip-files00053thm.jpg'
3a593094624820234df723b88e960f8e
3de4f7ae37621b089e8b42cd285e7e583e1194f1
'2011-11-14T22:21:38-05:00'
describe
'1004272' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXP' 'sip-files00054.jp2'
d6db0d724b3eb737efaa715e1569d34c
19f3f7965747402894a6a72e99ee17ed475397ac
'2011-11-14T22:25:24-05:00'
describe
'112069' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXQ' 'sip-files00054.jpg'
13c8d74d5294f1a690e2dcc9957b386e
612ce6c091f0d064d339e21ccc85a4dfd3cc3458
'2011-11-14T22:20:59-05:00'
describe
'47267' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXR' 'sip-files00054.pro'
51faac2c468c319870bba2ba381709f5
d89929b078641a05f39f925bed43b1fd3a4cc854
describe
'40171' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXS' 'sip-files00054.QC.jpg'
8edf82447d1958460cc73feb74235431
52711bfdfcd17ca4c063388036e4fe7c9070f3b6
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXT' 'sip-files00054.tif'
9a5c0cc83b10a8546c47aeecd2bebd91
1e5e9e94edfcda50dc603e817f366d05139484a2
describe
'1955' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXU' 'sip-files00054.txt'
9ce719f421bda48e0a58288777494294
16305eb609feafce6c322f56e916e812ea5e6ce1
describe
'10755' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXV' 'sip-files00054thm.jpg'
938c7db74c0dda6f1f3a8b15c50a0baf
0422ca7ec4ebb1794892263903b733fa4ea0b692
'2011-11-14T22:24:40-05:00'
describe
'1034468' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXW' 'sip-files00055.jp2'
4f8ff0ff001c3c5e94bf8d5651133a57
6a2088d4f409bb28edf666d68c8c200460b35eee
'2011-11-14T22:27:07-05:00'
describe
'107110' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXX' 'sip-files00055.jpg'
e0b6434ff7fcea3574d4927f45d9f7b0
0c5dd384c1b393c78e5b1ebb097aaf56b9049854
'2011-11-14T22:21:22-05:00'
describe
'44953' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXY' 'sip-files00055.pro'
c6c9b1402a70b00e2bb441ffaf775897
024345da45f012c0f57f584247bf0133ce97cd6e
'2011-11-14T22:20:20-05:00'
describe
'38460' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJXZ' 'sip-files00055.QC.jpg'
abbf6ab8485b0b0f860441efb17af229
5f806be4d004eec039a6fcca010afb741333c23c
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYA' 'sip-files00055.tif'
32967715cefb558b8378d05d6c62d16a
ba10df141033721d1a4e4a09b4549b2c50add54e
describe
'1898' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYB' 'sip-files00055.txt'
68e113e5ff9534c9e87b9c064e9e5f0a
2aa306a1486d1aa422ab4c5cbdd2588ea50cc9a6
describe
'11243' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYC' 'sip-files00055thm.jpg'
230b3af6a8b1b343a771f744108ffb57
8383c4529a7ed106912e759b8eb131ea3e73df41
'2011-11-14T22:22:15-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYD' 'sip-files00056.jp2'
9a346f2a4e3b2db83afb86c9ae24b12f
2386155576667a58282f2aa0d454eafd34e893f0
'2011-11-14T22:22:26-05:00'
describe
'108625' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYE' 'sip-files00056.jpg'
c964e072993990ee2895416f15e5eca0
91fa3381aa09e1409134a04be999c8e66a055085
describe
'44841' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYF' 'sip-files00056.pro'
48528763269bd5909f86c8f1f11cf0fe
f5431af55d9585fdf67958363cc4de68180f3f27
'2011-11-14T22:25:26-05:00'
describe
'38994' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYG' 'sip-files00056.QC.jpg'
8234fb18ee908809277cac3e6c5d2f70
5cafba292647b7425f65f5fce22db7ff002e3d57
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYH' 'sip-files00056.tif'
5cb309380178ec169cb3c2d7d56c6a94
16d8c9393bf05b6a6ec56a984845ef8bb33f3904
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYI' 'sip-files00056.txt'
f860ab5447e16d5b42a2dfff507fd237
415ff57c8b71bb090a5d7081d43458e791d16d12
describe
'10941' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYJ' 'sip-files00056thm.jpg'
1a0bb802a266d227794bd89479a412fe
3b2a8acb994139bbdc24a533869104532787b3af
describe
'1034535' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYK' 'sip-files00057.jp2'
1a932c5c4ed022f47a79e0a16c0e9d43
793690c78610c559f5984bd905ab528bb5398e13
describe
'90957' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYL' 'sip-files00057.jpg'
87ea2be959d31849eacfd1166abe2f05
d4783b55357d83a4bad471964e13abe6b44a7af7
describe
'41207' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYM' 'sip-files00057.pro'
d530d90a131d310f3befebccf0144bfc
62fd8a499c32d4d6d2880f1f8651bc6b9616d644
'2011-11-14T22:24:04-05:00'
describe
'31766' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYN' 'sip-files00057.QC.jpg'
0a5d4fe603418035744246b76eff261a
0d8d3ecb13818dbe0c3121ca6377f6fe31c6eccc
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYO' 'sip-files00057.tif'
2ba05000126afe6daaa835cba41c6569
89678965161f1818b821cc1debd5ebaff0f3bd0d
'2011-11-14T22:20:43-05:00'
describe
'1886' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYP' 'sip-files00057.txt'
8d79bad45cfc20864c6e7a4581d21ccb
cef0ffaaf849150fab9110e4a1da5f6106a3e9ff
describe
'9566' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYQ' 'sip-files00057thm.jpg'
67a15dfed7c9eed06b556441d466d366
488b625404478836c2b3cc33928bcb36d682b68c
'2011-11-14T22:24:07-05:00'
describe
'1004178' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYR' 'sip-files00058.jp2'
c42a49f9b7d012231c594e66e0c56a7e
168f562582167b02b0352af95dd8d950c587a8c7
describe
'106702' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYS' 'sip-files00058.jpg'
bc23d0bfb7fac4471237eb5bf0474841
cc8d59bd184a879cb718a238c83e55bf3bb725a6
describe
'45256' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYT' 'sip-files00058.pro'
523eabaa8b9d6fbe54f3a08dcb9ce3cc
e5d6fb8586fa9fa7f4f5e3d52d4af3faab47a7ac
'2011-11-14T22:22:25-05:00'
describe
'37738' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYU' 'sip-files00058.QC.jpg'
6fcdfcb4c64862a1f9b7a2f975b83a41
dc2fefb0b8c0a06c6f1d81f63c9b2a21570d37e5
'2011-11-14T22:23:37-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYV' 'sip-files00058.tif'
e5944c795b70ac009fb8b24ddb784624
1af9545f2a544f63dbdd46d5ce4bc6dd678014c0
'2011-11-14T22:25:21-05:00'
describe
'1880' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYW' 'sip-files00058.txt'
f31436eb73166e6b42142c5f708fef65
b1aa3b58e8159b68ab94404ebb85675946e0e35c
describe
'10860' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYX' 'sip-files00058thm.jpg'
f1602a24f92aa77098705bfb9dae626c
9c99cb2f8b691a4aec322bc37692d8a92ef0b8a9
'2011-11-14T22:22:21-05:00'
describe
'993581' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYY' 'sip-files00059.jp2'
b9d5f816de2484cdad09349c234e4373
9495834c12b9025a260decf49a81493c02175ca1
describe
'79821' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJYZ' 'sip-files00059.jpg'
f7380e6d25e9ff13dda66e8c3c04e5eb
46b29cfa1bcf477cce9b90a2c877e256acd83026
describe
'30838' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZA' 'sip-files00059.pro'
ecf3c302dd06647419ebda6a31670848
44f4bc8132261c663a2a7d2a224511d6b0117b8c
describe
'28140' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZB' 'sip-files00059.QC.jpg'
6df84d2bbb49fc3465b8d8892de5b4c8
1272aea6677ce67949d73160784ce780cb0ebd8d
describe
'7958503' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZC' 'sip-files00059.tif'
19a73e4f5ed2bb62362fe2fc6bfcb75c
8a4a370b33efa2bbd80b7c7663e3241f1bd439bb
'2011-11-14T22:21:50-05:00'
describe
'1282' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZD' 'sip-files00059.txt'
34af1e5b42b41e25f3a3a3200f700e6b
66a394f0fe33f75395d584b59290899ad75aa81a
'2011-11-14T22:25:55-05:00'
describe
'8104' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZE' 'sip-files00059thm.jpg'
ebfc28f49a74f6abf3b81e84b3ff1eb4
62a0f8d1173093690212466bc6a4aa17d789507e
describe
'1004205' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZF' 'sip-files00060.jp2'
82ad828d2de0cee79cef8c23c89cb1e2
c1af55e6c00431ca52647e862ce7d9f3ebdb9d82
'2011-11-14T22:26:35-05:00'
describe
'82997' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZG' 'sip-files00060.jpg'
c757b8b24a447e23174de1bac8fa2823
5e270ffb038db3b295099e2cf716492f64a8e888
'2011-11-14T22:20:50-05:00'
describe
'34745' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZH' 'sip-files00060.pro'
93d688aa4e9a6daf3398bee82293f50d
fbe1efc1b0e862ca6198c70b29915a91ad6452ca
'2011-11-14T22:20:16-05:00'
describe
'28956' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZI' 'sip-files00060.QC.jpg'
c6b7d37a0047db340a02d5afbed6b692
5bd7d8a22e58265543e82b672db5f3fbe2ebd6c9
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZJ' 'sip-files00060.tif'
c7cee088979510694b7af16082b8ae7d
c0799c4d6254e33690f8e82649cb51bd4ab33132
'2011-11-14T22:26:52-05:00'
describe
'1494' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZK' 'sip-files00060.txt'
4263226077d8730f81dba919b80c5aed
9e78d058c51d9a3ae4aef3092fce72b66bdcfcd6
describe
'8234' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZL' 'sip-files00060thm.jpg'
5b73076039022a46627fe310a27cc5e8
38198578755f14a6354ad0550191af0b50397886
'2011-11-14T22:25:35-05:00'
describe
'1000242' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZM' 'sip-files00061.jp2'
440cd488cbe8906b07bf31942e74dc75
8d9d72dd0d6caa5ccdf1d53b7f5a202f3283f139
describe
'96060' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZN' 'sip-files00061.jpg'
94856414ab96ba1a594e8b59abf01eb8
d2e57c30a2d8d177d037f8ebea2953c6b7160f10
'2011-11-14T22:23:47-05:00'
describe
'42031' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZO' 'sip-files00061.pro'
cd7f4de99921d13297f0d71638ff4e73
f9502644c0a58d1822ca29f8ff7c75f72d06bced
'2011-11-14T22:23:26-05:00'
describe
'33719' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZP' 'sip-files00061.QC.jpg'
e98f4b1bcfc837de1c6c251bff39302e
e21d35edfd7f73b8a175620dddf33177bf7e48a4
describe
'8011463' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZQ' 'sip-files00061.tif'
ff4ebbd82c8af06f47d6bf99bb1795b8
99b9b6ee72137beabfe0513eca95abdaa3411879
'2011-11-14T22:25:45-05:00'
describe
'1850' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZR' 'sip-files00061.txt'
28c90ff07298ca6f0530042720cb0495
87fd6def6aa2f3300d3dcfb0ef5bfca17117f9d0
'2011-11-14T22:27:06-05:00'
describe
'9535' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZS' 'sip-files00061thm.jpg'
3dc308c33b30b1a5b83dea3cb7c5fd10
b8e909f61d64450cffee7e2bc946ebcabbdbac0f
describe
'1004245' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZT' 'sip-files00062.jp2'
eae7f3de72b2cb1f5a8e20f56ecbd4f9
4ee807ed33aaec01bbdc29886fb0c75fac7ebdc5
describe
'108853' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZU' 'sip-files00062.jpg'
0f63128eef0678a9afc4b8146c061af2
0ecb0aae9b341f5e3fcac2f04b143be4c4090241
describe
'44976' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZV' 'sip-files00062.pro'
f2efb6554e9a31b18d88400646241372
528d16ba1d3f00955df80a301b858825eff20b02
'2011-11-14T22:24:51-05:00'
describe
'38210' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZW' 'sip-files00062.QC.jpg'
ac71197244cfaa9f0bc06718c6f7057f
7126c3406915fcef29422113f1e012d03646a083
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZX' 'sip-files00062.tif'
ecbffba709501c5fb1faeb4cd22268f5
8e381ae6acdc888d7b339298292037732e133a60
describe
'1935' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZY' 'sip-files00062.txt'
4fa4c2b045a1edf080fa323e110b6e32
8286cc4055f43e65bf81731c13f1deb3cf999049
'2011-11-14T22:21:08-05:00'
describe
'10676' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAJZZ' 'sip-files00062thm.jpg'
7ecc19d086045f435ac92faff245a153
8c956ca2c5851c78e4d00e58e705f696bf58cae2
describe
'1019667' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAA' 'sip-files00063.jp2'
0f1fd3559b392255ba869063117639a4
dcf7fa0aed47f603461307fe5b124d1097e5525d
'2011-11-14T22:25:41-05:00'
describe
'103053' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAB' 'sip-files00063.jpg'
1591df6ed9a249ac52667c025956343c
af0452fbc5320329ffd6ffa60832c8338ca4e3bd
describe
'45512' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAC' 'sip-files00063.pro'
956a2a60ffa87e9f295f021ce640c5a4
bc5ac0589ba59e68a405b1a0abda6a3cef67c0d7
'2011-11-14T22:22:52-05:00'
describe
'35831' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAD' 'sip-files00063.QC.jpg'
512026767df2407a57d7f633a727118d
91dc35b33d8aa0d01508737c720b790408a94fa1
'2011-11-14T22:26:38-05:00'
describe
'8166921' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAE' 'sip-files00063.tif'
dd75b78aae9e9b2682ddf05cada86366
13d41dafde085f7e938bf6dda76769f2de8aa478
describe
'1890' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAF' 'sip-files00063.txt'
fe4ee1f430776c3eec959fc162c5fe48
2741dd08fd8488e7dcb944cbf061615d8fe613bc
describe
'9891' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAG' 'sip-files00063thm.jpg'
d1bacda1edc8c0b814f35e0d33c3c863
fa39d0babb58b14e9f1eb851a54a45c825bef41e
describe
'1019934' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAH' 'sip-files00064.jp2'
22634a6132ee22c639a03ee51f91002c
0858474a0a8ac07de5966a82d0898637e5942964
describe
'107461' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAI' 'sip-files00064.jpg'
ad288c9ccef5bf7a76369340bf5cc77a
89498b90723a46539af3fcdabc27325ada64c571
describe
'45427' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAJ' 'sip-files00064.pro'
a5b24130ddaaf6a5ffc03d5feb3ef4fb
c9237961b9c6a3ab64121f4112dd28c9e35d0536
describe
'38358' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAK' 'sip-files00064.QC.jpg'
d1fd8902edfbed637d9a5f99041285e9
c52aed03d7f862d0ba266f14c3d0850c4eca65b8
'2011-11-14T22:20:23-05:00'
describe
'8168731' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAL' 'sip-files00064.tif'
4568cd315f9ffd994e84e3d1bc4810ee
a785ea0f28928b38ecb2fc2293e8af783f8d5bc6
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAM' 'sip-files00064.txt'
452cb4b2622b27ebce49b88e5086e463
3f41b1108878ef2d5683243863b9f9215e4e6143
'2011-11-14T22:24:41-05:00'
describe
'9851' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAN' 'sip-files00064thm.jpg'
f77721ac2943e854791bd9184c0b9c4e
0d8bf90a64a7bf40a4666f26e3df0eb61c221f45
describe
'1019606' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAO' 'sip-files00065.jp2'
795ff438a2da55e2d1610e9c6df8efe8
ab47737a42f39c5ea84a5b2543a77f4b1ed226b2
'2011-11-14T22:24:24-05:00'
describe
'105800' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAP' 'sip-files00065.jpg'
da8a911cb8ef9be823b9877aa8daf96f
987ea3f772dbfa36a8c6c01ca722c477cb45f8ab
describe
'45963' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAQ' 'sip-files00065.pro'
00d549d5b1e22cae30a13ec07525e95f
b8964b89ecc9f47586d8465d444d945236a93016
describe
'37678' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAR' 'sip-files00065.QC.jpg'
4012c59d0a7092737191260b20d904a1
a632d3bd0337041e38a73275e756332c75ab4d50
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAS' 'sip-files00065.tif'
60c965ebff3829d6e2351a9ceac11575
30a64304dc78144024321ef8bb9c1aefbc155053
'2011-11-14T22:26:47-05:00'
describe
'1916' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAT' 'sip-files00065.txt'
a2a417ec14dc01507524fa06e5606bf1
0927b3d03f8108bc9793bc1679e1d63272f39c11
'2011-11-14T22:23:41-05:00'
describe
'10295' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAU' 'sip-files00065thm.jpg'
5fe8483703a52705f92fc5ae473f24de
a3eb1d07a5dacdf78dc2ff8926de3fe70eb59e05
describe
'1019939' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAV' 'sip-files00066.jp2'
fb60dab0de2be7f578f42f93590a1515
f48b6d37c125f708f25fcb1a6bb063449f0c0934
describe
'113575' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAW' 'sip-files00066.jpg'
7620b72340ffec92a74a28384cef7f9f
dfe90ef4caa98f46cf124bfdadab555b73300d72
'2011-11-14T22:27:24-05:00'
describe
'47819' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAX' 'sip-files00066.pro'
91d1df0e40c9e0db5643e91be5ffb35a
4af963b0e470f635c57c3422c002891f3b99febf
describe
'40864' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAY' 'sip-files00066.QC.jpg'
ce27a9e68f53646f7c1145f963c345af
a2733b0764ab8f4a664f5f3d7bd1f14445de4fe1
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKAZ' 'sip-files00066.tif'
2ee06a532b3dd7a73bab20b32c285696
5bf5dbbdb12257169c5e2e118601b8bf4df9b914
'2011-11-14T22:26:10-05:00'
describe
'1979' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBA' 'sip-files00066.txt'
a065f4646ee1dc34beaf6666dd8c9136
f4672d17462a671f58fe128e161827a5d3c6c742
describe
'10345' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBB' 'sip-files00066thm.jpg'
569e08ddeb9fbb2b828d079a20269d30
d48cda66ee053c2946bbd99ee1a097e7119f3989
describe
'809045' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBC' 'sip-files00067.jp2'
a59817b9de17583a7c73ef0ecda0ab32
1606c67e1f39d87c61cb7bfd64daff08a096008e
describe
'49605' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBD' 'sip-files00067.jpg'
f55075838f3a8fa264b5abcbe3c2b181
cef7dba12d3fc3815fbd044d3034df1847403d28
'2011-11-14T22:20:39-05:00'
describe
'18451' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBE' 'sip-files00067.pro'
055f040f3d05711276a8e52e5b2f4612
d5de8c5cc8def9d31f4c580c3f782ca362532846
describe
'17314' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBF' 'sip-files00067.QC.jpg'
6378385d57153826c214863b983badb1
d70e7b8263fd85bf730046362872d57a7911519f
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBG' 'sip-files00067.tif'
73296f87598cc83615b7cda51b4b6c10
00fe1386486b983e9af1abfe167f5f15469a12a8
'2011-11-14T22:23:51-05:00'
describe
'770' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBH' 'sip-files00067.txt'
593ff5027741f182b61cf6e2e88b78dc
796df9a7c2c349532f6ed36c5255a3609cb77fc3
describe
'5063' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBI' 'sip-files00067thm.jpg'
d24303c1900a294a25c7890e24317804
0fdbe78943b501128f6088c117f80771ca51d52b
'2011-11-14T22:23:10-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBJ' 'sip-files00068.jp2'
1ab76d65da58fa521d0c0b2d9a608485
993521dfcc564f914040940f3689e514f77adfd5
describe
'77579' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBK' 'sip-files00068.jpg'
2a27a7f5c1032f6d2067e6bac9d85137
ef1719aebf336af3c3cdfe58155e8799f59427eb
describe
'31530' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBL' 'sip-files00068.pro'
feceb99182dd16cb0105b5c986ad5eca
f2c886defaa8fc06f81384586d2fa67c8261a25a
describe
'27540' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBM' 'sip-files00068.QC.jpg'
3aa7cc779ea4deafe311cd8791e21619
c351e63e75b056a9e7106cedac23be238ca9219d
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBN' 'sip-files00068.tif'
8a206506218abae5a658bc2ceb2906a5
91cb04c404f6bde915a72e5be89f379237d03db9
describe
'1378' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBO' 'sip-files00068.txt'
8ff744d42b5559e9d9d749d899de1a64
3ae7f6e9c5e0cd7ac7a9ad7137618985b5d9f38d
describe
'7403' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBP' 'sip-files00068thm.jpg'
cf08042bb21ad58f109ee7a731d07b8e
654a8b429b5f37724188107ba3491ba17f70f410
'2011-11-14T22:23:30-05:00'
describe
'1019681' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBQ' 'sip-files00069.jp2'
1a413e5c191e23a35f4149b57572492f
b26ba73a963ceaa0f34d64f3846f513f26159f82
'2011-11-14T22:22:58-05:00'
describe
'107471' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBR' 'sip-files00069.jpg'
8744fc2ca0860f79c53e8f2e529c1d18
7c256aef83870441c37321b1345c5bc5f9390891
describe
'45563' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBS' 'sip-files00069.pro'
ea445b542800eee19222e43a5eda4971
db3e56f3de313eae357b688acf0acecef4f94de8
describe
'38235' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBT' 'sip-files00069.QC.jpg'
3b0a1be6f7582e812d69f65a145dee6f
e6cf76a96960a19246076e49c0ecd07b537b9314
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBU' 'sip-files00069.tif'
10845a393a57629e3a5ad52594393465
f24433b678aff3a29b87caf22aab563daffc9a50
'2011-11-14T22:24:33-05:00'
describe
'1892' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBV' 'sip-files00069.txt'
b158848f17a11a523551d1ad031fc5d3
adcff26bde054979214d00b2fb8b9e7d8764838d
describe
'10732' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBW' 'sip-files00069thm.jpg'
64b966043612695c89219eeff7b545bd
7f1ed27a7bdc8aaa6d484620ed0b6cc8558c6bfb
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBX' 'sip-files00070.jp2'
8a8ffcf421c7abcf19b87fb3b8295d92
0bd1e186ea121bca6ba3744fad3c47c279aca231
'2011-11-14T22:27:03-05:00'
describe
'98260' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBY' 'sip-files00070.jpg'
9f6a6fe25c38168e26d042a1da2a3738
579f5407c5415befb87eb34fcec7df414211eba5
'2011-11-14T22:23:34-05:00'
describe
'43825' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKBZ' 'sip-files00070.pro'
1c4535bc899fcf0d0ece234143208b82
74fff046a570e54f429f5b4fa181d79f47bff2df
describe
'34494' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCA' 'sip-files00070.QC.jpg'
a9b0047bc7fd3f7172043a2fec4b79c1
9fe0a890eaf2dcd0ef95c82635d0cdd11832fec1
'2011-11-14T22:21:59-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCB' 'sip-files00070.tif'
a098d186a292b5e4190b61710825b081
8ad0eada3784d61864a1059316e87a8700752c38
describe
'1978' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCC' 'sip-files00070.txt'
7831b133851343c2907bb697c8bfe43c
e5e848e3985ab59e15483e4997b8bb4d7ef820e7
'2011-11-14T22:24:21-05:00'
describe
'8986' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCD' 'sip-files00070thm.jpg'
7fe5ea52238fbd17b54daf399819e44e
eb845e0931687573db5da3ae337bc16f8719bcd3
describe
'1019687' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCE' 'sip-files00071.jp2'
56ac7f628b2874e3db6b936d650acd4f
0186756bd06acce6741b19eb82df2999c9e0d51a
describe
'101287' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCF' 'sip-files00071.jpg'
f417bac172f281d9c50890714e26f9ee
17b59276253bcb7e526b30f83dc4dfe727661ae4
describe
'45100' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCG' 'sip-files00071.pro'
69be45264669d13653746e3a900c42ed
16997f51551b4e5d6494899a5dbbaa663192f529
describe
'35437' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCH' 'sip-files00071.QC.jpg'
c23890a4ae3c2a59be35302f6539bdd7
d919e022449750e847234ba6ca518dcc44377d3b
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCI' 'sip-files00071.tif'
42a4441e4736195536ed7a7116320a92
bcf7fb25e7fa170915dbc74ac344ae65de2dca4f
describe
'1883' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCJ' 'sip-files00071.txt'
4c9dd813b525af6c98e7bac73b6aa486
ca0f74bd612bb6471cdd15c27ef0dbac85b34161
describe
'10065' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCK' 'sip-files00071thm.jpg'
2742094c2c670113d1f1fee799f17fef
0e615730d2f5a3f794c530decfbc5057c62f2e7c
describe
'1019908' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCL' 'sip-files00072.jp2'
601f704c4d83fec182aa18ae25ff297f
d9593964612da959a83bf95d9484031bcd0dfc25
describe
'106086' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCM' 'sip-files00072.jpg'
1c4a4a489e75b2e36627184feb3de2ec
7518e413515c47309d2527a24d40464c71ee2f13
'2011-11-14T22:27:23-05:00'
describe
'45312' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCN' 'sip-files00072.pro'
3ab47311513df1043ec765033dec5053
77478246555b02d6ea63e9c220d6f46e304a8482
describe
'38416' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCO' 'sip-files00072.QC.jpg'
a4af727aa21bd1639bffec8c7648f520
80f767032464bcd1855e36050024a2eb12e02f61
'2011-11-14T22:26:39-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCP' 'sip-files00072.tif'
3cdd938d6a5ed5a81096d72cf6c3e1a7
96fdcb50b207448381c25879c8632b608a6e196d
describe
'1929' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCQ' 'sip-files00072.txt'
86ca08fc4d01fc668c463357511e831f
f6495852759f695d7eee3c0816c20c3d6d6faf04
'2011-11-14T22:23:23-05:00'
describe
'9705' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCR' 'sip-files00072thm.jpg'
245a0dbbf9d34af637bca7d7577f9b11
859deb1a34d32f0ad85d309195a13f8e4e3fa2ce
describe
'1019686' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCS' 'sip-files00073.jp2'
879b97e838427f8f4aed77621702366e
b4bdf55cccbf0bfbabdc00745e651bcd92f47283
describe
'109810' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCT' 'sip-files00073.jpg'
54b2e23dab75f80321205374965d217b
5a1ee5bb311b1fd2fbc75e2d1d058389b600ed0d
describe
'47238' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCU' 'sip-files00073.pro'
a98ee87d048695ae4a6f34a3adb0b34e
dd0e6fd961eb4d29baab566028b89f5a54020185
describe
'38791' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCV' 'sip-files00073.QC.jpg'
8b68ef186b3120b6c003d58dcc254e12
ff979dd441b3db657d86d61958a004f91d7dbddf
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCW' 'sip-files00073.tif'
1aa2083a397529d7e826a1400d8d63b2
9574c7af3fb9ddaede427dfd39530cc00a0e4479
describe
'1954' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCX' 'sip-files00073.txt'
280480ae7dc37df4d4f4d431169fec64
f054b0896582c26533c0fcca43aab745397d8cd6
describe
'10779' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCY' 'sip-files00073thm.jpg'
0d95ade0d55200bc0bee31b4f76e1393
5afa7208e3d0ef1bba16826a0924ac6eb470f3c7
describe
'1019933' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKCZ' 'sip-files00074.jp2'
3aff01443d18462061f665e28f68d1b3
6803ef62fc574fd4d2ca55f505a098e5a0c0ed12
'2011-11-14T22:23:57-05:00'
describe
'95657' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDA' 'sip-files00074.jpg'
18abefe34ff69e0ba58b700905143565
37835f4adb790b586bc7f572b30650bf4cb28482
'2011-11-14T22:22:49-05:00'
describe
'40165' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDB' 'sip-files00074.pro'
53c49135aa41bf1b5f3ab04de1107060
1c6ae8ddcfd893c3ea69be563903ce14a7b7dd4f
describe
'33203' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDC' 'sip-files00074.QC.jpg'
f04c5f3b67342d578c80c38cbddfb9a3
3d16e7439c4eceb44abc8e3462cd1d2df547db6f
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDD' 'sip-files00074.tif'
b0eb84abf3bd2f7414d6038479206b1d
d8a1004afa76250fd00c286009901ee03c1343bb
describe
'1826' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDE' 'sip-files00074.txt'
7452959e40f4990dd9429cd1fae55f55
887ae87233f6d5f26410da47a4f63777c6182e1a
describe
'8710' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDF' 'sip-files00074thm.jpg'
fcc7f03482b13f2f40620998d297d65d
9717d4927ff6f773daed2daa2bae6c62db9deb6e
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDG' 'sip-files00075.jp2'
a7e4e7254ede09ebcd819d4b631d1cee
f8904613cf0bd51f20237c829876848ce0b49391
describe
'104731' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDH' 'sip-files00075.jpg'
d3c3c197a6749dbd0a2f31abf7333a5e
cb33f76c965af6f8d1193d4318a8baf67f799554
describe
'45918' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDI' 'sip-files00075.pro'
709fa1958618835ec242cd66ccbffbe2
b92412f1617cf60c77628c4750dce442d390f61a
'2011-11-14T22:25:40-05:00'
describe
'36808' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDJ' 'sip-files00075.QC.jpg'
4e2ddf7cd2a44bad34be3c376a67d5d8
37dcfc1125ced8d4fd2a86c08b47a5d1a2f80189
'2011-11-14T22:22:16-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDK' 'sip-files00075.tif'
13ebfc2eb1ae87b739643755eeef1a63
8f74e90eff9a8af2fe3fac3f22b9a26077eb9add
'2011-11-14T22:24:01-05:00'
describe
'1897' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDL' 'sip-files00075.txt'
3871cc3b88b0eaf6599a8aeaa15f8d26
928090b3a69d5e711d3dcf5aca501c7b66f65029
'2011-11-14T22:20:53-05:00'
describe
'9932' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDM' 'sip-files00075thm.jpg'
17cace9939e2b80677af78d3ad347aa4
60f0ca0f0c321140d28d64f0dc5416d7ba22c44b
describe
'1019936' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDN' 'sip-files00076.jp2'
b54380fa85a2e6ab8f65283041f9e871
3db9f2c1670154c9a554e7c277eb4f9107482d16
describe
'92022' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDO' 'sip-files00076.jpg'
2b2b27d5f9b4097420508ddf74e6b20c
9834eb96d65c23c29fe03c59c5ab7c8bc4ee7189
'2011-11-14T22:23:18-05:00'
describe
'39946' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDP' 'sip-files00076.pro'
67bdfa7b9d7fddc2b6ec5d45412f2920
5b6e85080a75a8c8aa45d128255a402627c3755f
describe
'32544' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDQ' 'sip-files00076.QC.jpg'
0d591538e08245afb1eef10c6c470a93
67d205db46f82b68d4d1188ebc351a772452cb35
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDR' 'sip-files00076.tif'
6c89de383bc6d3bc4ef71829a88e40a4
137768ad9982e72f2ddcc22b5a1cd8777d75f753
describe
'1713' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDS' 'sip-files00076.txt'
6756650c08bac50425822ce8552b60cb
8963ddb4ccba5ae0f5be343029d0e0fbb7ef7868
describe
'8516' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDT' 'sip-files00076thm.jpg'
e992181cb8a81b75fe970bc9c27bff4f
f85ebf8b30ec9c83bd9098add3827de8fa9a2b3c
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDU' 'sip-files00077.jp2'
eba76b9729bcab80b563fbdb805a991b
bcb52339a06fcba1b9f6cc2a19855de66d360e25
describe
'81730' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDV' 'sip-files00077.jpg'
59e5c0d38eeccf047cf6a4fae617df62
957fc0ade1c5c38af717cacc2a65c2c82a68b3a7
describe
'35555' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDW' 'sip-files00077.pro'
f063dcc543ff7a1cf75167eb5fa54f30
ed756a4f3420ee5d353b6c12568a4afa1f73b698
describe
'28514' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDX' 'sip-files00077.QC.jpg'
9c6dafbcc51048c6c4dd32dc0fe77306
77258791cbe0b1abb9e354dbbcfb1f3e29079ae6
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDY' 'sip-files00077.tif'
909f361ef64af166b25d83632afdf712
784551352beed65591917b3ea2c232fbed83bf96
describe
'1512' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKDZ' 'sip-files00077.txt'
a3d18cc58ae306ebb6deab5b0ceff350
73736bc2afb050662e9206099d10592d59d3ada4
describe
'7963' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEA' 'sip-files00077thm.jpg'
24ee3ce98f83acfe7d1f227b2306312c
6d022600eff4cd17f6024b4136d8f07521329747
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEB' 'sip-files00078.jp2'
1c425cd9ced5215b19e722d05e5ab162
314a68e134d435f42e1d269477df660196d67ffe
describe
'115553' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEC' 'sip-files00078.jpg'
eaf3079c1db674cc675f108736bd1257
ea5b39d1a0afcaf85ce2e583f763317e5a27e9a8
'2011-11-14T22:22:29-05:00'
describe
'46358' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKED' 'sip-files00078.pro'
061053abeceb68265d4fc56d80b69426
3f4269bcb1b4b233cdd319879d91095cb1189d90
describe
'40940' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEE' 'sip-files00078.QC.jpg'
9b4e4754cd1fc33c993168c0d1c6a180
cc5cf5876e94c2f1d1a7abb82cfdca347541d5ee
'2011-11-14T22:25:28-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEF' 'sip-files00078.tif'
26611c859153380033a1baf1a7750696
b93da51f32a0251588a2fe3178cf667e5e5b62fa
describe
'1967' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEG' 'sip-files00078.txt'
4f51fc77a3330681e1a574a2bb02ba33
6a49b16a03c14c59008736c4cde4e612608b4aa7
describe
'10440' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEH' 'sip-files00078thm.jpg'
bdfb3b756b06dffaf2195e954688e216
bc9a79114508bebd654443e0b48d6047925961d9
'2011-11-14T22:22:41-05:00'
describe
'1019673' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEI' 'sip-files00079.jp2'
38c651cea5f94354c5cdd5f5b94925b8
a424c2049c79bd7e7000da9d5f0dd2025eb39772
'2011-11-14T22:23:35-05:00'
describe
'106720' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEJ' 'sip-files00079.jpg'
5d41380f9543477f3188836982c22ff3
029ca8ed179e59fb422f3e508733b4dd4662f478
describe
'45578' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEK' 'sip-files00079.pro'
c51ffb4bcac609d25ab67aa95823ed20
9ae470abe3ebab1dd7edbb787efcbbfbcc94a25d
describe
'38395' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEL' 'sip-files00079.QC.jpg'
029da843d58783c34be45d5de87e9c9c
04d3d15a660b28f0148093aadda07896816bc513
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEM' 'sip-files00079.tif'
ebc11796c1f99c7a75f4803b6c3f8e6f
5e707648ba4d0025d227bfac36d3a227a26ca978
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEN' 'sip-files00079.txt'
081d33fc9efcf237ade466dabbfee0d6
feb600b16e7404bae852a0e3ceaa68525024dd03
describe
'10567' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEO' 'sip-files00079thm.jpg'
51b59d27413d08cf835606d68030b2ec
2be2921ed22ea0f22d27253da8ecfcefe587ce98
describe
'1019923' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEP' 'sip-files00080.jp2'
07db2d3159a95e76a4640d4fb808383d
342aa3a421dd672eac856c892fe4ec22f6830592
describe
'111549' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEQ' 'sip-files00080.jpg'
2ba0a82aca00927575556bf6d8273710
6b9225de247717f881e553a8b2576d08a004c0fc
describe
'45732' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKER' 'sip-files00080.pro'
2dc39e227916f7dc60b08d1cadcc7931
ba3d2b30dd7ce40c6a4048190d53b7d6746b7f67
describe
'39936' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKES' 'sip-files00080.QC.jpg'
a879578b3c196ff272f07b93d9f21a62
7e589d399e17ba956208732ae5fa5f425220aefa
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKET' 'sip-files00080.tif'
dff879050dcd897299650ccca3ca8e6c
c456ed5b9cb2c56595a5e3b8b65baa24f3359270
describe
'1975' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEU' 'sip-files00080.txt'
9d78e3f76b3883ba0c44142644e41444
4b7a80e088453e9e882e9fdc6ce58caf44fca83d
'2011-11-14T22:21:12-05:00'
describe
'10480' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEV' 'sip-files00080thm.jpg'
7fe61770e498581352480266648e7772
899856cdfd57f597ba98d79bbb0fb952d5458713
'2011-11-14T22:23:14-05:00'
describe
'1019676' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEW' 'sip-files00081.jp2'
4969365eddd2cac5a95ab0c4b71f3a94
d42fe1be2a114882bd2da68338a0e552a734ea79
describe
'110203' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEX' 'sip-files00081.jpg'
fd34266e844c471ae97f5b65d5ac8cc3
72bd777c8a73e0bfeb84c72053a24eb7fd073914
describe
'46463' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEY' 'sip-files00081.pro'
54bf8e63c16fc9c14f1e141d68481e23
8c72d62bec3134c1fe96c52e6356e16800292c93
'2011-11-14T22:21:10-05:00'
describe
'39272' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKEZ' 'sip-files00081.QC.jpg'
a1c76156ea5e3369de34cc29a42e53a9
6fa564c436b10a97219b631bc7dd558b9a7e25ef
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFA' 'sip-files00081.tif'
d33c1d9973868beb14122445b0dea22e
af3eea89c6bb8ad8b901bbca12df538501931f07
describe
'1932' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFB' 'sip-files00081.txt'
62f85beacaae9cb578032ecdb2321744
9b88dffc212234d8ae385da6e07f371ae752742a
describe
'10763' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFC' 'sip-files00081thm.jpg'
442fe77d8d15cf46d3ce949e1deed74c
a4e0fffd8497e413c738f7b369702cf8db93638e
describe
'1019927' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFD' 'sip-files00082.jp2'
f29e0f189ba8044f8e25a4ddb4c717c9
963e1c5fc32eacdaf89fae276d65b10d48288d12
describe
'112433' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFE' 'sip-files00082.jpg'
46a8d4bf1f590e0918422d65206db221
180305c6e2790c460b4c0a13d4c3986ae9c2be04
'2011-11-14T22:24:03-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFF' 'sip-files00082.pro'
2f8ae7bbb9dd2f044f27d800a0e7eee4
057f10c999b3007e3b988109473e5001c2f7a7cf
'2011-11-14T22:20:19-05:00'
describe
'41107' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFG' 'sip-files00082.QC.jpg'
7f1c0c2d89c2284c08bf8baf31a17217
5224b725f0e79fb323bb6bf9aa752cf6ebde7acb
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFH' 'sip-files00082.tif'
7dee9d701c2b8a121b8a688291e32e6a
4b0feaf8b08dae8e03b6358456e02698ba58be94
'2011-11-14T22:21:02-05:00'
describe
'1970' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFI' 'sip-files00082.txt'
c5ff24f94c24f8f393d53d97a1859fc8
542991c393b266b110140dbeda1c68ec15024409
'2011-11-14T22:25:22-05:00'
describe
'10625' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFJ' 'sip-files00082thm.jpg'
7b99656e23a80e020bfb27825fdb1dd6
59b3a8b110460a6fa8015306954ec6f1f6fe5812
describe
'836939' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFK' 'sip-files00083.jp2'
900284932091bd321f57a14b87e0d753
fe1d90be1b9e574440375a23102745f4e0db078b
describe
'50421' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFL' 'sip-files00083.jpg'
cf9bc67531660454e006c875c77a7838
13c402ac969d1263e5af3a9f7bb5a5ede62e89ef
describe
'17021' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFM' 'sip-files00083.pro'
3b0ddf4cc3b06512ccb0ac53ae907042
785335f9c8fbc1d3a5414c88aa052c384761d57e
describe
'17741' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFN' 'sip-files00083.QC.jpg'
eebc4c553e65cf840997511ee4e51174
67ac53ca25c02fcd9cc5468f798679c5bf31932e
'2011-11-14T22:26:32-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFO' 'sip-files00083.tif'
c336b15a1229a6d84ba5da4c59fbecef
863b15d99fbcfa2a5cdfa5e2e3a8787ed9682e93
describe
'714' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFP' 'sip-files00083.txt'
b14be04ab844810ddc250a65de267069
b20613f38e2b547628ad483e61838aa16c89964c
'2011-11-14T22:26:11-05:00'
describe
'5318' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFQ' 'sip-files00083thm.jpg'
ec240bbe39b1f8cf9f3d61574d18df98
be611b93db1305638ffbf6ba6acde58da98c179c
describe
'1019825' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFR' 'sip-files00084.jp2'
51dc59c3a03692d323588d8ae8f3e6e6
dc88f873dbca7c48edc30bdbe5c25350248dfa70
'2011-11-14T22:23:55-05:00'
describe
'79521' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFS' 'sip-files00084.jpg'
0414cc53a0d09cc6c55ab64716bec3a6
4d38a773f5fdb8777edcabb0de69ef85d250449c
describe
'31534' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFT' 'sip-files00084.pro'
ce69239b1649e19bc7ae5c2614d5693c
b13b5914629ebbfa923f3ba5641415732b03b151
describe
'28070' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFU' 'sip-files00084.QC.jpg'
7e686201b9bcf50970df631845f00499
8c3f2bec9fdc4aa65cedeeb5326d3d46e5d0432e
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFV' 'sip-files00084.tif'
34d66e5d0d7050ef9a5e1d2b93a8dd7a
49263f96ba426caacf10c311abcadf8a622182c7
'2011-11-14T22:24:13-05:00'
describe
'1374' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFW' 'sip-files00084.txt'
1a53bf61bb37247c445099abe9570326
f31bdf0f735af86868101ae3297831e5b5250b55
'2011-11-14T22:27:15-05:00'
describe
'7420' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFX' 'sip-files00084thm.jpg'
9e22e7e1e2e6824241155be592f7b07f
34b06a85f1c70a29144a3a114569201315e2c380
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFY' 'sip-files00085.jp2'
c4371549f6b8fdc862a4bea2d9b63379
bcdf63515dffe592f68fe87e9f95981e2c9eb85d
describe
'110657' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKFZ' 'sip-files00085.jpg'
eb4cf2cb94338b4be04b0578e1888c7b
1b1440cc895d167e33357bfa931b2f6986d47de7
'2011-11-14T22:23:09-05:00'
describe
'47145' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGA' 'sip-files00085.pro'
05461a8b7150f359f62e71b3f224e9e7
bd31abfd424e01b92b1c393afd6c832311692e86
describe
'39545' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGB' 'sip-files00085.QC.jpg'
d2f222fff02090880e0a8268fcfef08a
04bf11206c72283e644e0f6460a85d15e76c6875
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGC' 'sip-files00085.tif'
dac020d14784bd5f123ee40ece125edc
d7d6bffa9637b7ef8bb63bc7bb5cf62911981892
'2011-11-14T22:24:00-05:00'
describe
'1957' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGD' 'sip-files00085.txt'
24a4da4246e606abb09b8fce2a960d72
fda006ba92321abd8b59bb4836ca9bdd4c27bcc2
describe
'10977' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGE' 'sip-files00085thm.jpg'
93534e74f49621ce727a939eee568bef
a0804357b7fdabfe2a3305671764efdca8e60626
'2011-11-14T22:21:09-05:00'
describe
'1019802' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGF' 'sip-files00086.jp2'
ee4fa464368115845b25fca24dd140f0
057e670b588242ed4bdfe57de2efebeb9500c3ff
describe
'114894' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGG' 'sip-files00086.jpg'
4c114eb8ddd3fb55c1ca0de05f0c9a01
0b8426a5952405ffd25e63451bd45280e09f75de
describe
'47186' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGH' 'sip-files00086.pro'
f9eb38a96ecea341700e506f0be87a80
dcf336dd32cb12345811e1c4f01942b7f8e3f5ff
'2011-11-14T22:23:32-05:00'
describe
'41322' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGI' 'sip-files00086.QC.jpg'
4e7fd4b072016eac7bd15460bee0ebed
c413039b0e51fc09a8d8da438d4b8a1da0cf0ef2
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGJ' 'sip-files00086.tif'
ad2f05ed4ce4c966fd64d66fcbabc046
cd8cf38288866c8a6587aee2f536bf66e84197c9
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGK' 'sip-files00086.txt'
b3c4a9386c731418def57f67388216a4
d7a9ddbbe187d726bb553da1568ee5abad5dfdac
describe
'10572' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGL' 'sip-files00086thm.jpg'
46219b87fb50bb616e88a0717c2e06ff
d00318fab9ebd8f2753d0ec0b92114ee55b58124
describe
'1019685' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGM' 'sip-files00087.jp2'
1cdc0513195c49cbfefd6d0aa7b81079
2b84be5e94f6cdeaf3190ac42f179dfc81e613d1
describe
'109820' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGN' 'sip-files00087.jpg'
0b2887c2c9df229b2ab935fcd82e394e
8ffe00b2d051e4bb67d8dc25613b68017c4d7ac4
describe
'46785' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGO' 'sip-files00087.pro'
f49185397cc2970e79824ae75b03e1c4
6a62263829883d1297f0ae72afea1dae62b31ea9
describe
'39548' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGP' 'sip-files00087.QC.jpg'
43621288254d3266623a8e3625ef97f7
448b2fa4de6fcb8c828da19d6afacfab9b80b7a0
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGQ' 'sip-files00087.tif'
42bf9ba1bbca5ea19cc9587bd8af860f
b5a79bd8109b52391a0413fb85ef4c21a74c34f7
'2011-11-14T22:27:19-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGR' 'sip-files00087.txt'
50d92044ddf80d0c5e91dafc131e7d3c
84d18a32200f4fbddfa69370f17751940be8f696
'2011-11-14T22:23:05-05:00'
describe
'11126' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGS' 'sip-files00087thm.jpg'
e9655f792e5b2c11e046abb4220f51b7
da5ee495d73cb272a65066eb7caac790e1058da2
describe
'1019940' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGT' 'sip-files00088.jp2'
f1fae8505a8b0aa73b54e2129fc5253e
4e91222c3a18c3961be7ef6630d037c3549c8ad4
describe
'106700' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGU' 'sip-files00088.jpg'
fb56789dc9c263ac5689dc923ace2bef
f81cff7f9228bce9fff7347f2be444e6f5ad2d18
describe
'44715' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGV' 'sip-files00088.pro'
1989e6372119ba8e2752a284a0bd8f6e
f1116a6fd05ec2381c65792397813c4cc73ef383
describe
'37998' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGW' 'sip-files00088.QC.jpg'
ed4abe752733d620c03dfa5479d7b1a2
be9f212216ab4e399abce8dd94d1e46ac5fe98ad
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGX' 'sip-files00088.tif'
c48509bd96aa7b1ce1f8df97fa2e24ea
01753b25d568a541efd6815ba5e59f4ae9adbdb2
'2011-11-14T22:21:44-05:00'
describe
'1907' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGY' 'sip-files00088.txt'
fb4c5b03b070cfbcfeabed0b422843c0
774258fd9844d115f95c4b307085bb234e10f2e2
'2011-11-14T22:26:51-05:00'
describe
'9769' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKGZ' 'sip-files00088thm.jpg'
3ee1db0b3a8877f4a2dc049b9e3b3441
a674255d1f5a295cdc412b3042f4ae67d8491edb
describe
'1019672' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHA' 'sip-files00089.jp2'
0481b6122bfe6e5a1476ab52f0c4df74
d3275c8b65b501fa493245a7ebc6e6ddc8aebd91
'2011-11-14T22:25:50-05:00'
describe
'108446' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHB' 'sip-files00089.jpg'
c32609203e61e550e5f81af284548b13
4a84bc7455470785c43c59b2c7b6abe0171f0adf
describe
'46114' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHC' 'sip-files00089.pro'
f2ad31476a44b76fb6e7a26b8d6cb8ff
1b653f1663d0b6adc18735ddfccea136042ce52c
'2011-11-14T22:21:40-05:00'
describe
'38798' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHD' 'sip-files00089.QC.jpg'
d2e10bd58cda11ece0bda52fd266e47d
b7cb13b74c21152fc949bc5c71d309de85b0539e
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHE' 'sip-files00089.tif'
9fb992d740527341c5650deba0c52377
802b429d9abac8dc8b8b7d8e918856a27b91a390
'2011-11-14T22:23:08-05:00'
describe
'1899' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHF' 'sip-files00089.txt'
3845f85cdc281a9897ae928693d2a4bd
a11ae107c024d80e1ff1553962dd6bcb70b8d96c
'2011-11-14T22:25:57-05:00'
describe
'10693' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHG' 'sip-files00089thm.jpg'
f5fef26d804a558ff4ccfc9143028ef1
505fbbf5b78f17a09934d846abb87c8bddd5d302
describe
'945876' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHH' 'sip-files00090.jp2'
feba041b068d413b37f9a6ff3f14d970
06b8d43b1087441cc3b939696855a88a296a6ad4
describe
'62546' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHI' 'sip-files00090.jpg'
126b1488abbb708ab020191f7e73c4b2
281202ddf07dc51dc4c21cae43bfe39a41e1a30e
describe
'21120' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHJ' 'sip-files00090.pro'
b479e1547e9eb2d73d38ab16f711747f
3f193f152e23ae673ff708a56f71d46041ead7c5
describe
'21920' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHK' 'sip-files00090.QC.jpg'
4630f293ba02d721e767f9dbb9fa6857
d96c51a43558da9da9db2214c291a3d9ea4b1fda
'2011-11-14T22:27:14-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHL' 'sip-files00090.tif'
14aaf8daf0cfd4f46c82388e655e222d
c922b28f7e75b2d27371ba3f696c9e8a80a03052
describe
'879' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHM' 'sip-files00090.txt'
d6278a09bdd9fee401ff6b01db86a6af
2aa4d3f02b8bc02194fdc67eeb2a2d29c763672a
describe
'6015' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHN' 'sip-files00090thm.jpg'
2200991df1d5c85be1fe16992604590a
2feb9fa5615d09c8e1f32450b4dcb8c740ae8ef8
'2011-11-14T22:21:37-05:00'
describe
'1019683' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHO' 'sip-files00091.jp2'
ad691dc19b67d6d451081e92f8b4ad73
fdab4251873d77c9df9f675aeb674691c94173c0
describe
'82930' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHP' 'sip-files00091.jpg'
9c8dbba70c9c9a9b01271458126ac1d2
c40b69683f4313123e277e51a69f5ebf7a4479bd
describe
'35701' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHQ' 'sip-files00091.pro'
93db246c3f5e6dc2e969ef96a1e6cc56
ee56dd434331e7196a10dd9461fb19ec4c6292a2
describe
'29208' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHR' 'sip-files00091.QC.jpg'
ee77129b9fcd0f4d535638695fa30ab3
35f3a6bbe3232064cfd34a9da40719090e78f370
'2011-11-14T22:27:01-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHS' 'sip-files00091.tif'
fa8aa9e3a48400c31e4ecc3569ef1820
42280b6595837faaad2f99c9a52994078eb70a10
describe
'1530' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHT' 'sip-files00091.txt'
bec07b4b815041c5fe2cd538aa520f17
584686804e850ce8470d64c7f1a40a6bc675bf86
describe
'7959' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHU' 'sip-files00091thm.jpg'
2eabd0a80b5ab918316ad741d68cde52
51212dec59978afb6223b20d34c0c27abca0f622
'2011-11-14T22:21:58-05:00'
describe
'1019926' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHV' 'sip-files00092.jp2'
94df1bbbf8a926559a044ea4534321e7
86f667b6d98191a4129162fed1d0f3aec9bd3aa4
describe
'101428' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHW' 'sip-files00092.jpg'
3d230dab13b7e66489cef2b3935989ea
dbe92773027a2c9a4f17bdcfdba56f78459913dc
'2011-11-14T22:25:58-05:00'
describe
'43127' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHX' 'sip-files00092.pro'
04c5ff5c49925946c9b8c83d52576e84
511188e9fe501853bc55cc7809502908ebe29711
describe
'36291' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHY' 'sip-files00092.QC.jpg'
d57f3dfd14bc90478b2f8ebc5798618c
9a66dd287a815e1fe798ec1d5041a47416fa7df6
'2011-11-14T22:26:28-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKHZ' 'sip-files00092.tif'
c0986403f9f0d345d238aa58ab32cbe7
d1a5416a0994238401be308c445e9ba60b9adc65
describe
'1849' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIA' 'sip-files00092.txt'
096e5d0531d0e0ec085695ec4d51c26c
270b30f0d416fe7f9bc42e331adad3255b6342bd
'2011-11-14T22:24:14-05:00'
describe
'9586' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIB' 'sip-files00092thm.jpg'
952b7b4e654a9ad8d57028d9ae9f6ffb
be1759be5073269cbd6dc6e0cfc9d6a0b48bc3e4
'2011-11-14T22:21:45-05:00'
describe
'1019688' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIC' 'sip-files00093.jp2'
8645bc45682021d635be1f0af0c9349d
13ac24d8ae2650ae88e78c122e3d6a00c9b74caa
'2011-11-14T22:23:56-05:00'
describe
'110532' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKID' 'sip-files00093.jpg'
fada8f0b2d9319f0ec0bb88569649885
8f3f6f2c1c9d9e06a86ca979e4f70a4fcc16def2
describe
'45906' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIE' 'sip-files00093.pro'
0c8c933418ed9152644d3d6488dd7206
b0afab5d67e3f0dec83e70b02b475c9e835163e2
describe
'39432' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIF' 'sip-files00093.QC.jpg'
03a18614714bb0d6a7cc4f9a4f1a62e2
242fcd8186d45fd7b8fe1e79686678bfb0afbe88
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIG' 'sip-files00093.tif'
5c306a1b21700a934eca33b013a0a656
98d0780a84625d2709524faffef91fce14b9e254
'2011-11-14T22:26:13-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIH' 'sip-files00093.txt'
3fd131d0c9baa7dd3dad87cf2569f83d
3d1eab45be0ab3a14225f4348bf4ed23447efeb6
'2011-11-14T22:24:06-05:00'
describe
'10796' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKII' 'sip-files00093thm.jpg'
4c20ea16a52f5bbf9c71eb084ff93e3d
f396679231c643e48d36ce59d99c47f0a7e5e7fd
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIJ' 'sip-files00094.jp2'
ad5055af6083e37420f7359b020aa706
7a7d7ade2e14ec0c3fd95f8f86a558698f84e241
describe
'106096' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIK' 'sip-files00094.jpg'
870d7be9bf9287ead686b517f29de4dc
1ba35808c98768879b21cde03ea4a47efad6ccd4
describe
'44906' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIL' 'sip-files00094.pro'
c4949dd7cb77da95c3dedbe134975818
b971f4721d1dc3ae0488992643a9c736cbb1262d
'2011-11-14T22:23:53-05:00'
describe
'37599' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIM' 'sip-files00094.QC.jpg'
785b37548bddd044c31b8dec093bbb35
230b180621a7eac4af8d5eebae5a757ae3fdeac1
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIN' 'sip-files00094.tif'
cf4b07a16bdb101f0854c7409f053a52
bcb06e22291970d03849b3448b9f879ad79b843f
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIO' 'sip-files00094.txt'
0f610bd7f5fb02756dc2b99bdebd81ee
e2b6f5ad50d6bd33fb4af09097cb7a7ae7773095
describe
'9827' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIP' 'sip-files00094thm.jpg'
dfb89c6ba028e6d36bec8e24feb62424
30fb8811fa89da988b6e5adf43190fbaf67b1699
'2011-11-14T22:26:36-05:00'
describe
'1019669' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIQ' 'sip-files00095.jp2'
6df47a59d581db26bee5ac82d5d6636e
4a517346ecf1ca7a0cf2038a7d9f8c3674803b80
describe
'102607' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIR' 'sip-files00095.jpg'
2ce600be6466589ce986fc954b73f27b
854be088a6fefb156a4cff4f61af13273a54086e
describe
'44432' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIS' 'sip-files00095.pro'
5bc9bb94e3c952c7a867a0dbfe1472ba
db83cc324dc69034d8ce62eb33cc54fff97b768a
describe
'36649' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIT' 'sip-files00095.QC.jpg'
2706d01f8046e5f4f928ff3e19fcfd0d
d968d6f51860638eb1b243bd11ac460c5cd7f653
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIU' 'sip-files00095.tif'
f0a4c13a8ed36bc89dce9135c75f11a2
e14a3e875fd5b818fc2e2ee538d29485e47bdf15
describe
'1852' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIV' 'sip-files00095.txt'
95c43d7c9085fdec071efcf99a368dd4
37b45e17cc9c98a28358a006df39f5067a95f624
describe
'10022' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIW' 'sip-files00095thm.jpg'
f924a3fec8f554ecdfe2c586dd7c7bb8
a569d39aca8020df05edcb2ef1f2d6cde4d8792f
describe
'1019920' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIX' 'sip-files00096.jp2'
ee3dd0346b6214f5ce360791a343cd13
ac2f972fa34a95eb344bd1b3e34a031df64303d5
'2011-11-14T22:24:10-05:00'
describe
'102562' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIY' 'sip-files00096.jpg'
812eb2a10007e240b28d17a4529afecb
0ca7bd2742b4f4ae155dac430634e0988b7ff8ce
describe
'42922' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKIZ' 'sip-files00096.pro'
94a7eaa6b364fe3d5133a74728ddc05e
7be1de2699e157a8a12908206059d412398b7ab0
describe
'35865' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJA' 'sip-files00096.QC.jpg'
75f3e7ff6d07990fb5a624e94ac31030
658459a185d1479b2575acedea1ccde171cba318
'2011-11-14T22:21:52-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJB' 'sip-files00096.tif'
11cffe6803cb1bba2397e5444924d6ba
c469afeb716341424103320b519482b81a280a6b
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJC' 'sip-files00096.txt'
1b97064a1647cf520ba6253f5dcc5a49
73966c738940cfe7ba47315cc3b5890e6f139fa1
'2011-11-14T22:22:10-05:00'
describe
'9434' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJD' 'sip-files00096thm.jpg'
583407c587d0d0bd44fb769b21f351ec
984cf00ee55234b1042de984081245c862a1e07e
'2011-11-14T22:20:57-05:00'
describe
'1019616' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJE' 'sip-files00097.jp2'
5ec804b6ebcfe87c866407e409ebac56
646c3309dc8c3831056fd40ee0d6ff323456aceb
describe
'73214' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJF' 'sip-files00097.jpg'
8fb253138bd739fb3e2bac048d2bfe7a
262c3a94e2ea861f6767847cea353e9aad43261c
describe
'33278' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJG' 'sip-files00097.pro'
970bf270c215242fdfa049a355c00ab9
de7b232c30aa9e458df27b2003420395a23d221f
describe
'24882' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJH' 'sip-files00097.QC.jpg'
1f27f362dd8409958306a14f24ba95a5
51f9d72c4f57e92b4593f9f68f4749d1f8a4b2f9
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJI' 'sip-files00097.tif'
ce1005dc0f2cbc93c6ebae3614d736e5
b3a2ea020efcd2d1f28bdf1a6931760eb0cfef9c
'2011-11-14T22:26:37-05:00'
describe
'1502' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJJ' 'sip-files00097.txt'
e569e5aedf219f78a43231bf243c9dad
ce57d8fc746553bd3503c0834b99c59379b8ec79
'2011-11-14T22:25:51-05:00'
describe
'6841' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJK' 'sip-files00097thm.jpg'
c7564514a223ac30112f77234ba6b77c
6a91bc671aa45b20f25b683ede2e132ac63407e3
describe
'1019903' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJL' 'sip-files00098.jp2'
d6fc0dcc88d53f98ac9c438841801ca1
e2e51367daaf0d74af0680e32acbb918e3cc530e
describe
'83692' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJM' 'sip-files00098.jpg'
a63be2d930bbe0c8bf5ba93e39376c20
a67ce92241af1d2aa9c46b08e5ff62d866e22902
describe
'38126' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJN' 'sip-files00098.pro'
ceda7faec33808018ab8a5ae5fd10ad9
b9913f3e2d230abfc92843fa75b4127f01ecc5bb
describe
'29090' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJO' 'sip-files00098.QC.jpg'
2a7400dda48b3ac7d74785a4aa423350
d9f10a3164be1f4500efdb58c358bf6b62194e49
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJP' 'sip-files00098.tif'
71561a3546f57879caf0d4f81a59b5cb
dbfaa4e1951e97cd055ab145e5222b3c59412eb9
describe
'1790' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJQ' 'sip-files00098.txt'
4517f4eb8f6f0176f5d7098e01a92f68
598c28f2fcae9a0f5ecbdff079e9234d01623bf8
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJR' 'sip-files00098thm.jpg'
b25b7633ad9754fddff742a6f2eba3fe
d92b33951440a4d93b7398d84ed3454403717c7d
describe
'1019575' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJS' 'sip-files00099.jp2'
8f1cdb9bec123ae35bb89a61d9602c98
a7e1fb77467b08ceb9abbf29f5f84a2d33516678
describe
'74638' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJT' 'sip-files00099.jpg'
6970082cc3ffe56d2b2f2691cc70c33a
eb214c6fcd270c660acfd21fc3f8a8d5c92e89b5
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJU' 'sip-files00099.pro'
d172782a092b49e94787c1d98b3f6f57
d7c2558b3ae61b5ecc97fe49c396e2f9041e537f
describe
'25507' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJV' 'sip-files00099.QC.jpg'
e429ecce08bdaceb83b3dfcde53f3998
6931090b72a914729118ac7ceb19390dbce037e3
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJW' 'sip-files00099.tif'
ac1b98275541de596f3cefdc6a2e2b69
9d25c9f6e4f1e87bedc28dc09c85915bd1410781
'2011-11-14T22:21:19-05:00'
describe
'1661' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJX' 'sip-files00099.txt'
6bda16b442c940b23b6c2339675490f1
943b9409d7aa8e752351415edb59eb1eec92a378
describe
'7092' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJY' 'sip-files00099thm.jpg'
379638df5188b446c9eba992f6448432
12db9eca16aa6fee97bff6e735f852f5a50ef664
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKJZ' 'sip-files00100.jp2'
a7e3ff7cf90ca49970f76137f9090764
a73c123235799a0f7fbf14f8c102f45325db3b2f
'2011-11-14T22:26:50-05:00'
describe
'70124' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKA' 'sip-files00100.jpg'
844b31fa44417569a7700dc6f4714a05
643df77c70ca9a370abb68418cd59758f230aed4
describe
'34033' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKB' 'sip-files00100.pro'
445c686737e2f9fcfbb054400b55a1ed
5daa5738f00edbd6c852f60cc6f9ba004dfe8f36
'2011-11-14T22:26:12-05:00'
describe
'23860' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKC' 'sip-files00100.QC.jpg'
fad94501de49a0953ed8a9b0e3aafbb0
09bdd19400156bd1aede545e60a3cf9850c1b523
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKD' 'sip-files00100.tif'
026ce87c8e6e495ad256d297fa479aad
047628b8e702f8f862076ed90f8720fa73f860cb
'2011-11-14T22:22:20-05:00'
describe
'1433' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKE' 'sip-files00100.txt'
1987a77b537d620c0c1b79458dcea88f
14b14ec600098e1f2cf6be8ebe51c5dab192cdc0
describe
'6300' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKF' 'sip-files00100thm.jpg'
40d0962266cbeebef515adf07e1a5673
202d51c3921d7a581e48ccb9129f87ebb3c0abe9
describe
'1008113' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKG' 'sip-files00101.jp2'
f50e551b94ac8fc537d0f299db21dfdc
444e2891b9fb9396224b9327a5efd085e5fb4556
'2011-11-14T22:20:12-05:00'
describe
'69572' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKH' 'sip-files00101.jpg'
94ec7dd9d892944514ac68e936460ea4
87331dda354a6555437a7f5dbc0c51e733ebd18f
'2011-11-14T22:24:45-05:00'
describe
'35318' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKI' 'sip-files00101.pro'
82d39fca6f5ff996899c64ba0c5b37f6
1fa3855a891255851a7a5292549947888193e871
describe
'23739' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKJ' 'sip-files00101.QC.jpg'
66501d43600cef3653c9cd97fb7926c7
9d79bbc2646df3650e5ae444c2daab09fbd959cf
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKK' 'sip-files00101.tif'
70d929e59c94936e648348dd19f06d21
43958bdd7f884790ee71241ffb3b682c1e752478
describe
'1515' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKL' 'sip-files00101.txt'
1f672a0a36c190809c3e3bd94dbb8e65
8633aed150c09adf49ed8c3ec8154221ca69c13e
describe
'6741' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKM' 'sip-files00101thm.jpg'
2642abad58c84987dbeeeeddfa72435f
46f7950693c2d060ae3e488a7b7dcb228e8cbf89
describe
'1019906' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKN' 'sip-files00102.jp2'
d36b63db83743a190cd3572a43f89c16
328a91ff6052461643eb0e831a5a3ce31da9c20b
'2011-11-14T22:22:09-05:00'
describe
'72471' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKO' 'sip-files00102.jpg'
8d493fb155f8dac307f4a3f3678015d2
15c72eb9828a3c65ab6f394f17eb07b18ce0527a
describe
'35407' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKP' 'sip-files00102.pro'
46514368694c2eb13d3df2ea8e45f579
fb2ede4d34308ce531ca2bae2ba1613f49b20898
'2011-11-14T22:21:47-05:00'
describe
'24630' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKQ' 'sip-files00102.QC.jpg'
7e948b2588af79fffcb79e70679fd489
ef1c612a53aa3017771c46892a5f543a72fba2c6
'2011-11-14T22:26:27-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKR' 'sip-files00102.tif'
334368059fe745a4cb0bb5d9e3c20f99
c541083bddd7c138d71dfd2d038780f7afa4ce35
'2011-11-14T22:20:48-05:00'
describe
'1506' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKS' 'sip-files00102.txt'
86c2ee2f15e181e1313fb7cb9fb9279e
b4199e8e637e0427b8e0b99e3469ee3c9e97d044
describe
'6536' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKT' 'sip-files00102thm.jpg'
8db2b2cacf45986c8632e86975ae099e
e3f56ec27299a11f0f65c6111d2a0e693fc782d0
describe
'1006690' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKU' 'sip-files00103.jp2'
418a32ff95d93f3b8cd6dcdd38079e54
f2ebca05a415cece8f853d9d2ba2af8b54eac76e
describe
'69381' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKV' 'sip-files00103.jpg'
349649fbd47a925ada86d5134733fcf8
b767b8bdc90515a52cdd1fa2692011259cb32261
describe
'34872' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKW' 'sip-files00103.pro'
2a43b41117f79045fd3b7166849cd451
1650e21177c2c4b81cdb26b1ff864901a864a90b
describe
'23127' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKX' 'sip-files00103.QC.jpg'
84149e4a5d66baf17c7ecf95550e7a99
04509fa15367e450e14678bc78310d5c600c3a9f
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKY' 'sip-files00103.tif'
c714f77d4da2ffd6726dba08c72462f1
55747f70341c02ec968a9dd622a3d4f8350a0197
'2011-11-14T22:25:54-05:00'
describe
'1520' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKKZ' 'sip-files00103.txt'
a5831879f09422ed7b0ada29d432c0b6
f5e78a40efac98f4915faec04abb01b3269dece8
describe
'6661' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLA' 'sip-files00103thm.jpg'
d68c0887210e7314f42e2c20995924a5
c3e8cf1d0c88479c63f7ebcec118f960e4305879
describe
'1019921' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLB' 'sip-files00104.jp2'
e61181dfa7f54c7bedf0e183e79ed2da
7db8682ddc7a6c8d6ee19fdb5b7dc279bacb4a26
describe
'76792' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLC' 'sip-files00104.jpg'
aa292f1d2fb79d7a565139c6ea9605cd
b49a7136ca79e135cf107e5f21114e8de5c04af9
describe
'32845' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLD' 'sip-files00104.pro'
e939882735a0fe75ba052246d1ef4768
64bbe5116255d8707c646c7829618f2518c3f4f1
describe
'26655' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLE' 'sip-files00104.QC.jpg'
e18e14e6a3acc5eaee86bdde664c57ae
761993991c43f037107ae8b20b0fa5916ea32f98
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLF' 'sip-files00104.tif'
4d669930d239f9f6d64b36069339e3e6
f8ff2ccd0c3023be02268dee88a89f180a4fab3b
describe
'1430' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLG' 'sip-files00104.txt'
1f80a0687be878e95babd68ccf8e2da4
493a643b9c0344238325842d757c77c985966c26
'2011-11-14T22:23:01-05:00'
describe
'7104' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLH' 'sip-files00104thm.jpg'
a037c48dfc8b49801d818a7dcbe8f105
f0ee3d1dede52533d235fc3a14aa117d06fbb78c
describe
'1019666' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLI' 'sip-files00105.jp2'
74fa297ae8adcfde33e435771df7f6c5
fa0e52803293eca1235bd54e1a1b39081f377eac
describe
'108100' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLJ' 'sip-files00105.jpg'
762b8a1f05dbf99ed9ff12817274929f
075f094a34b6b3c42b6ca41272d205f78c1cb13b
describe
'48381' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLK' 'sip-files00105.pro'
134d19ae24bc3e78ee4c5b5f0238cf6e
81b93875fde4402a824dae913838f1be0b8273cc
describe
'38431' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLL' 'sip-files00105.QC.jpg'
f297da5bfbad04e9bc49cb39f678ffd6
c4d5844c8b12d6ad989ad945ee04ae256b42bea8
'2011-11-14T22:26:09-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLM' 'sip-files00105.tif'
c67c137fad73abd7a55b9e10d5cacb94
f675a53737865703f1abe25395422c166f334dcf
describe
'1985' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLN' 'sip-files00105.txt'
2a1be43d099fc0525aa295b02a6f232b
4ca6cbeb10a6f1e7d46f94196c4cf7d0e5c1226a
'2011-11-14T22:26:06-05:00'
describe
Invalid character
'10019' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLO' 'sip-files00105thm.jpg'
2423f745e241788d1043c658454d183d
f91338eb096d3c3d29fdc7c33644a11acaf272b2
describe
'1019859' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLP' 'sip-files00106.jp2'
1844362b92d9a9b32c70c0296c708eba
d4164c858d5156b495980039238981a3b1f1219b
describe
'106375' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLQ' 'sip-files00106.jpg'
a435195544786be1e97205cae7f86830
0c969285d0ce5c2e59583e501c6d48df033421d9
'2011-11-14T22:22:11-05:00'
describe
'45404' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLR' 'sip-files00106.pro'
68904857cb6aa640f857a6260fc20e37
135a0039563087cb2e1e02d594183e1e46a866cb
describe
'37675' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLS' 'sip-files00106.QC.jpg'
50eb1bf053d1ded914e2daa0ab5cebde
fbaa66872dfc4d844b2d2fa0b8ef1e65aef123cf
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLT' 'sip-files00106.tif'
9997def384604eb1620645b92838c2ef
d992bf9649c615f635401d8c392930b0c0bac3df
describe
'1894' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLU' 'sip-files00106.txt'
d5c3fd2ee4318ccc909a90cf87f9d06a
1d6dc575d4e49e8c4d1c255e6d8a1695b3f90cf8
describe
'9749' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLV' 'sip-files00106thm.jpg'
15cfd6935a74befe4830271f7c572fd7
ef62b393518417dc69bc47842191deedfea375e1
describe
'937317' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLW' 'sip-files00107.jp2'
c6ffae99ab190f48ea29704473bfa42c
aa3560c75a8367a045a33201fe3601215c70db39
'2011-11-14T22:24:47-05:00'
describe
'61668' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLX' 'sip-files00107.jpg'
5eb17155b8a291c2e8072290f3ba5ff3
763320482a181b474b2bbafdb38a62a5db77c204
'2011-11-14T22:22:54-05:00'
describe
'30539' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLY' 'sip-files00107.pro'
fa931e8bb61e1417c51da0546aa0d2a5
b5dc58e363a9fdaa8a4f202ffc93b7aa3b7ae700
describe
'20422' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKLZ' 'sip-files00107.QC.jpg'
de213b075570e67156c229d0bc01d9e9
0fcf84435bce89cd779238535911d0526579da72
describe
'8327267' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMA' 'sip-files00107.tif'
0665f86d022c967d69bc1743e3146a0e
b8b1c7e202f2b228e1e21aebc3b53905a2bd7528
'2011-11-14T22:23:07-05:00'
describe
'1289' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMB' 'sip-files00107.txt'
7ef917226ad13cdc63749efd100cf282
498e10c19c512444a5773d9bf1af507124884eaf
describe
'5688' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMC' 'sip-files00107thm.jpg'
7e9c658ffbd8bc204ec1e34c3fbfb511
37ba99b04a0ae842926394c2f278ea4de47065a0
describe
'1023735' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMD' 'sip-files00108.jp2'
8e73d6ab92108d7b73c6ad18da16b03b
d799b3d7a1b0d35afd83518a0241e42d5d452b4f
'2011-11-14T22:24:57-05:00'
describe
'71462' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKME' 'sip-files00108.jpg'
eb95c1256f42d907f6f1e551aa0066fa
a9a4e7357930bd3cafe71e1b406d4e6d4374c3b7
describe
'36109' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMF' 'sip-files00108.pro'
b833680a7c27f19c08ccd6366699fc79
1cc52ac970fddd1d2d119e513fb8b48ffad2c92d
'2011-11-14T22:26:34-05:00'
describe
'24024' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMG' 'sip-files00108.QC.jpg'
64ef9df7f39c9cd16ea5c5f55f5b5639
9c692d219707886dadca4291bc1813b24414020b
describe
'8274233' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMH' 'sip-files00108.tif'
ab31ef4b374b01bf9e02413cb7ab984a
3aa48090e67ff2709b3742813ff5fda4b37afa5d
'2011-11-14T22:27:05-05:00'
describe
'1541' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMI' 'sip-files00108.txt'
e22ca44fe39b6a6af3a5284f842854b8
fd2f204a9195eb94b77fc054ab37a7a11e54aa3c
describe
'6739' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMJ' 'sip-files00108thm.jpg'
a5ec5142a644c9f388a175eb1c4c9030
49ed2bb78fc5b3795c3c6a9019d176c4f108e2e1
'2011-11-14T22:21:41-05:00'
describe
'972049' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMK' 'sip-files00109.jp2'
46c086cec4e7278f83a51b85d8e8e381
debb3263fa7844734b12166851cd3ee828b7422b
describe
'69355' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKML' 'sip-files00109.jpg'
a9e337db869be23b69a5cee744c7445e
8132f2c52202cc9cd42aa42e17cb7407595230f6
describe
'35135' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMM' 'sip-files00109.pro'
ed885aedccce10fa780f1a8eae1daf56
46947712faf1e27c07d4a0226487cc88bdb34111
describe
'23524' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMN' 'sip-files00109.QC.jpg'
8d4b290ea736f5d1e911405e4ef159c8
a9e82cdf532c240dfd23e602039e8b59736e5338
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMO' 'sip-files00109.tif'
e2e08519dbcd513d01bc815e2a8491e8
d9f393a44caa455d6781814dab3d7aec98dd1659
'2011-11-14T22:21:54-05:00'
describe
'1489' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMP' 'sip-files00109.txt'
a079221ef2fb1f850a7f9679511eab10
28acd2ef3767d23c0aea360e1d607d67c02981de
describe
'6238' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMQ' 'sip-files00109thm.jpg'
1417995a115b239bfaead87bbf5ac856
ccba710e47e05ef973cc8b6ce1d466c5382ac5f7
describe
'671038' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMR' 'sip-files00110.jp2'
116a750f8385eaedd872ee3bc19382f1
381813af58d1196b303c104ee426f6a15a823217
describe
'27715' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMS' 'sip-files00110.jpg'
e158408d8be6187d1ead64727b1d20fb
c2497c6423e1f3516e998c460af9383cf02080c4
describe
'7972' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMT' 'sip-files00110.pro'
30679c53d1560a6fa3521862c040e75f
b8ab1147ac01c75a39ac0bca5d4c31b337284ae9
describe
'9345' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMU' 'sip-files00110.QC.jpg'
df8feaf3c5b7ddbffe691f9b7efddc3b
224a7fd815a19734a1cac7ecfbb0a17a9458af48
'2011-11-14T22:22:32-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMV' 'sip-files00110.tif'
891fb6719cba248df59407984ec7296a
b1c6a964a958329ac4cee603702827d08816ae29
describe
'344' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMW' 'sip-files00110.txt'
6cf49beff1481263052bf6f93b05e14c
8094fe468383f900fe97e9d34280fa0f52a652e1
describe
'2813' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMX' 'sip-files00110thm.jpg'
d754ff2822b0399a6b25d47acbbd2660
99c3e4227689359e4ad7928590a94c8b9fb0b211
describe
'1039600' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMY' 'sip-files00111.jp2'
0d3cc2068a66bca49d4d220892b08adb
825278391c953b74b38ebce972e11c82b691b201
describe
'79227' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKMZ' 'sip-files00111.jpg'
e28486daff643a54bebae5712e2da73b
6c4bb9900ae1b29680da8cf4b0d3890f2999c682
describe
'34051' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNA' 'sip-files00111.pro'
2d191accb7cc6bccc65732cf1a4e0213
c2d35ad459644e38a3d015ca4b6d17e517e45498
describe
'27691' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNB' 'sip-files00111.QC.jpg'
f31cc2eb59450f863dd9e5943b71d1f2
23b3a4587dc70defb06ec8d25af7841b45d460ec
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNC' 'sip-files00111.tif'
812d7acf189cb2e70b4b07677db43ac4
1357b1a2409775bb5a1bede7c2a9538228fa7426
describe
'1456' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKND' 'sip-files00111.txt'
f9ebf14d0b410cb5197c92a7b6bb8eb1
e5809aec2b7f6560ad39f9e050561ebb70c6d878
describe
'7374' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNE' 'sip-files00111thm.jpg'
fd9ddd66567c2bbc194cf48ba6387806
13d79b523b391606dee06be1ff14a8239fd89c65
describe
'1033076' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNF' 'sip-files00112.jp2'
e2a11a1e1243e93f14c56dd283b7ed3d
e5559c984d43cdc6a29c2e6e6244e2522b2cd40a
describe
'98036' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNG' 'sip-files00112.jpg'
5aa5d0f041f160132acfc9b91c658639
681704089eb4b3a6499fcb3906cdf37c3c0ca395
describe
'42341' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNH' 'sip-files00112.pro'
a94ff10cece05477c937be87afb3cab8
25e599e9707c2571c8efda7bd3b39bb2229f4e49
'2011-11-14T22:24:59-05:00'
describe
'33655' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNI' 'sip-files00112.QC.jpg'
2abb17850bbd53bb94a5311497b9f2f1
5c16a592b640e46c1c842a0a68668eaa33419efe
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNJ' 'sip-files00112.tif'
ec63ccbecce896c3490b375604028c14
6d1b5f98aa8f085c5fd5067b5833912cbf714dae
describe
'1891' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNK' 'sip-files00112.txt'
649296eaa3d103fe292b2161c91cec3e
fe8a540ed731368df21c40db73b0659d91edb482
describe
'9185' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNL' 'sip-files00112thm.jpg'
350b54140e0e1f78e7e392005d5c627f
ed958418d7c0b7eefb50aee6a2794a74b678a2c0
describe
'1039692' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNM' 'sip-files00113.jp2'
42041ff502198833caf772a6951143f2
a04c4664597ebd4929053fc52daf27a0ef5d0cc9
describe
'108133' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNN' 'sip-files00113.jpg'
66611bc713762c8e9d86e1b242ffcde2
0155a4d5cd0f814839aa963569b62fd6f065ea93
'2011-11-14T22:26:05-05:00'
describe
'46672' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNO' 'sip-files00113.pro'
de112c522bf9e918ecb3e776feb6b917
2bad44a7dab5525a3946b324bea389b032a92c63
'2011-11-14T22:20:58-05:00'
describe
'38183' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNP' 'sip-files00113.QC.jpg'
6dd00a4d95fd62423e4f3ae41e130ccd
a21f7f82a943d659b5b04c83d8437257fb4a3a18
'2011-11-14T22:22:39-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNQ' 'sip-files00113.tif'
e1135c3f17c1e502c19bbf59a4397984
11bb1bcae2b86c2e89d8c25a919dc812062075dd
'2011-11-14T22:22:05-05:00'
describe
'1949' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNR' 'sip-files00113.txt'
e8f7e8789bbd5e94c112e682d21a5a50
e0a895ff304f36d1a9121bfa98e0ccb688634870
describe
'9818' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNS' 'sip-files00113thm.jpg'
0d8cfe5a61dc7f4ea1f24726de405ce0
1578a68aac27cc381a33d85ca77890609e074522
describe
'1033110' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNT' 'sip-files00114.jp2'
4bd5e43e1dc9d2ce3d0b2b33401f15df
2f534a1215a69c850aa360be587e9a7776bba31d
'2011-11-14T22:24:31-05:00'
describe
'96770' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNU' 'sip-files00114.jpg'
459859c746cd438741337699564171a6
1ea2c59fba27d0cd23f71dcb5a5e87b3f8d4c979
describe
'41195' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNV' 'sip-files00114.pro'
bdf9402ee0a7f28a1bb7d15f717500c1
077126b616148d13946c6141c46259b623c85551
'2011-11-14T22:26:04-05:00'
describe
'33606' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNW' 'sip-files00114.QC.jpg'
c81ec49a19b57d33c6ab1dcee7a3353d
f59d12c17ec9e7c64e40229a668525d695ebc8bc
'2011-11-14T22:25:19-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNX' 'sip-files00114.tif'
6bbbe8ec009ad77f8483ecab09f39325
21ddd1924b1ae3b11923ebc15ed29f14b6caa876
describe
'1875' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNY' 'sip-files00114.txt'
a40cb8c2059ca147d5a53bae0c558dce
552e4bd37bd34f71e4ed4e5b4cf11a0a46e28453
describe
'9069' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKNZ' 'sip-files00114thm.jpg'
d12a2785fa90d489b4a6d3169b1e487a
52e83dafc723c4429868f21f421d6dc59e046610
describe
'1039498' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOA' 'sip-files00115.jp2'
d35f17e4b1bc0c0d50d65ff162e0340f
eb8a54b13a20d54720c1dae2508ebe18fbb471b2
'2011-11-14T22:26:23-05:00'
describe
'97367' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOB' 'sip-files00115.jpg'
859a48528ec8d0a0b66704bf87b40d41
9874fe1a9bb83b4b59308119f625e67ebf883227
describe
'42588' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOC' 'sip-files00115.pro'
3829c4bcad41f7205d9d6b31e91d0395
a9bddd2cbdb33e892b59423cf112113ccdaf2f28
describe
'33999' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOD' 'sip-files00115.QC.jpg'
63f714ba923bf7165dc4230f8c166ee1
5747c51851d5e6cd225f4f717f9ce8cd88f1472b
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOE' 'sip-files00115.tif'
bfc0fe1df1b80f77f571c72580c8a7e0
018e1ab64a0eee79e99ade00f03ac9fa46699bbb
describe
'1903' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOF' 'sip-files00115.txt'
11495c4a81510143271f6f58ba1f7d62
eaeb439d53b206f13c2ea203b5c11a43f2cb275b
describe
'9011' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOG' 'sip-files00115thm.jpg'
a5f985b1db3013c4a8ee3f81f59f9a19
c36c57b9cb1258cfce5db051d53f7f9b05e82789
'2011-11-14T22:24:32-05:00'
describe
'1033058' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOH' 'sip-files00116.jp2'
58e96e1de20e275031dabd78d6a160b4
4bf7a140a57e734257014a0f48eb2532f49b4150
'2011-11-14T22:26:01-05:00'
describe
'92356' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOI' 'sip-files00116.jpg'
e1b10921bb0df62f02136e9af5ce6470
50dd63a81c589b32e5b11a9bc3cc113a3dd18185
describe
'40341' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOJ' 'sip-files00116.pro'
a76c142e0d54c3a8e8738067c9251d6e
878ee158f96641ee4855c076d72e093134eb0a93
'2011-11-14T22:27:25-05:00'
describe
'31992' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOK' 'sip-files00116.QC.jpg'
b296a653ac4ad0bc485a2246ea619bfe
cd53569e520f5e1a989823fb1296268d97b15536
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOL' 'sip-files00116.tif'
ab4d0b95326c4727012517b3c11a83e6
2ee3056fdb18a81c64cba0a8785bea0cf8a58ce6
describe
'1830' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOM' 'sip-files00116.txt'
660fd5e004fadac07a22e8111f2c92df
297ca22f5ef51a5edc3c872f2b736a5abc42bc0d
describe
'8526' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKON' 'sip-files00116thm.jpg'
26ed9fe23e858b7fbeecac491d82434c
02bde2b53496daaf78d87b168382b2d5db065f9f
describe
'1015751' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOO' 'sip-files00117.jp2'
4442b7972f5d4d2c0ef21f5a93801e4f
fb7c6f0c82de80b04a90cab970ced44bee560a25
describe
'105760' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOP' 'sip-files00117.jpg'
dcde621cc67c474e4e2dc30be1821823
f2c6ffaeeda04271c92c8379d5197b47f62efaae
describe
'45396' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOQ' 'sip-files00117.pro'
119231415fb8f9f68f97a5c7c109aefb
d1b711f1f2c80583aba651cda6772a257e1beeb9
describe
'37485' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOR' 'sip-files00117.QC.jpg'
5c060f7651d0db67ffa177e2c26fc1cb
f15e8f5685dd8cd42b394720d0f6ef6e0f9f6cab
describe
'8135461' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOS' 'sip-files00117.tif'
844cb150784ddb73c20e4544105a31f6
ae3fa2a59a1b9ac7062e58ab4ac0d72dd85a6676
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOT' 'sip-files00117.txt'
b48e526db90d87cd19d8316008a24a94
afd2fb50f9c5937c61bc03bfb958fee62e3543c8
describe
'10383' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOU' 'sip-files00117thm.jpg'
e88128f5fa75c6235c1629915849ca7a
281a60c6a58fe03b74c203a8471360fe2011e986
describe
'1041384' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOV' 'sip-files00118.jp2'
42c76884d98b63c09df4b03f6b679ffd
f3b41bb9f3e51d7813dc322a7c1c01690d52207d
describe
'106445' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOW' 'sip-files00118.jpg'
ae4d8c48239d0ce2bf0c01d421ccb9f8
60fc8fbd2f5ecab0d4c455875604d5fbd72d93f1
describe
'45434' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOX' 'sip-files00118.pro'
5ef6fba835cce316c8a3480701a78b17
6f6e17730350971fc7bf910e7c4d31f677097cbc
describe
'37479' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOY' 'sip-files00118.QC.jpg'
7655cb6f86cdf3823e87f54b04db49b3
9bcbe418715d7e4a1fe8ca0060bebaa296787ae4
describe
'8341573' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKOZ' 'sip-files00118.tif'
741e7b992b3319b387b54d7718c30658
2b9ba829728f9bf5c5a0872225469f15a12c8385
'2011-11-14T22:26:22-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPA' 'sip-files00118.txt'
f0af8ea27f46fb7b6c77d8e4c89b6f65
80c86faa3596547089f3fc7112f9fa78b6187017
describe
'10135' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPB' 'sip-files00118thm.jpg'
2e242f692d545c198c775242df8bd4e0
f8a3da4672a6d44349db25d33b200cc9f915f349
describe
'1015747' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPC' 'sip-files00119.jp2'
788afb34f14354e3a78c7ff310f50e68
020fcff2a3ea58106bcc7f317eff19c5264c3f84
describe
'90761' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPD' 'sip-files00119.jpg'
3f2aedd09402696c0b433a6d7a8a984c
6e14f16d8efd953d36f0c646e931234731077cbd
describe
'40764' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPE' 'sip-files00119.pro'
7ada5e122c95b04e2c41dffa2ea27f83
cab3b3fbdfcdabf5776944943803d7032d03d5de
'2011-11-14T22:21:49-05:00'
describe
'31792' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPF' 'sip-files00119.QC.jpg'
8fd727b03f55496cede1578ceed65508
c72820ca036a5ea9070ea97027484beed334d17e
'2011-11-14T22:24:38-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPG' 'sip-files00119.tif'
8f93def52eae35fbdae6ede0b806ee74
50fbffbf68a0cb58277a594f6ef616b7264052e8
describe
'1837' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPH' 'sip-files00119.txt'
4a28f1a534d79e1e60e90ff396ae26ce
c21df2981a06ed7f27ce9af6febe4332b8a465fa
describe
'8522' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPI' 'sip-files00119thm.jpg'
aadc98209922f7ecb08129980a2e82a5
24c155a26b17d420e8a1c6e395e11808332fd186
describe
'1041398' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPJ' 'sip-files00120.jp2'
733d9796d35405de469ec7ca2e9b44a3
a3c1e7ff8cccd47d9e45c44ea8483000500beba7
describe
'76501' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPK' 'sip-files00120.jpg'
1af1ea9122a03be90bfdfb0ed5482ed6
8b52319b2ccde7ae52ad4cf9f631c31ec3c00c76
describe
'33449' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPL' 'sip-files00120.pro'
8c1e76e33e511ac95e36859f4f7de6c9
eba2eaa3a1a475b6ef7aad389bec6ffe6742dd85
describe
'26911' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPM' 'sip-files00120.QC.jpg'
859fba865c61460e693665e6d0675e4d
e49fe82fa8a84671ee2508e1740210da4c976ce0
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPN' 'sip-files00120.tif'
fe1a2fa2881dd974b5ac67430b749656
e16bec7aa56d32d5e10a9688423ab1d807585171
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPO' 'sip-files00120.txt'
4e26929a7e262882fbad35199e268988
cd46706a7d23b217ce6dea887e14d97c192d736b
describe
'7170' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPP' 'sip-files00120thm.jpg'
9a1f172ebbb6fa5598e3a85ca156e60e
81a068436664db63a4f9a0bb90387120a6240770
'2011-11-14T22:24:28-05:00'
describe
'1015748' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPQ' 'sip-files00121.jp2'
aa9c6bae8b20d185f5981c3b250eb355
07a6d0e377e4443802d1caf2d487c2eccd79bbac
describe
'98814' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPR' 'sip-files00121.jpg'
18dab38af6d930b65d99efa2c69701f5
804af516cc6f8ec5317e69fb035f945d8a024d02
'2011-11-14T22:24:39-05:00'
describe
'42503' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPS' 'sip-files00121.pro'
540c1524b1dc2f9e12735a61c6e3b0c5
580d3b497cf1f3d8ba9907f2cb7eb34728f4e0b9
describe
'35000' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPT' 'sip-files00121.QC.jpg'
4ea4821774bfa48eebd7f3e5f1016621
ddf162402bbba1ff40052357b93482705f0d07e3
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPU' 'sip-files00121.tif'
5b935f6bda3c0a36ed3facff3bd3005c
6c7f4d3311fbd38fe00ee01a48e82076f329521e
describe
'1819' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPV' 'sip-files00121.txt'
a09e978b87fde0f592974160c3058f1d
b90997de12a31b0f89db4dc57575dd30ff923e57
'2011-11-14T22:20:56-05:00'
describe
'9595' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPW' 'sip-files00121thm.jpg'
abcf2ae8dac437fe766dea84075d7559
2cb97f31012adceda8914df2600116b1561599e4
describe
'1041509' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPX' 'sip-files00122.jp2'
84909db1422e7ddc26277bd996785d2f
1a9a6805191cfa4315894605dcb6ea86fe258a04
describe
'107775' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPY' 'sip-files00122.jpg'
d290c6430d13aa68a955c1ce3a789d38
8c7d191f885909eee2390510d4b8a708d3901071
describe
'46409' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKPZ' 'sip-files00122.pro'
8495b44c806148f1e55d203aec4cc5c3
592cc54838e2fdbaece1e2d449a5b411019e3982
describe
'37545' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQA' 'sip-files00122.QC.jpg'
ab29fd264ea4d2acc7687677bdecf4a2
7f71a2e65b8bb7b718926bc903d7e4abdf5929f4
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQB' 'sip-files00122.tif'
15dcadf292ab9b41dff712df89f40ea1
77afbb48a8115a91392bcf2d0ea76154c581c1ea
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQC' 'sip-files00122.txt'
047a1fd1c619e43a1af87458e2025c23
93c197e4199d90a3b1f641bd53f8d5be94abebf4
describe
'10046' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQD' 'sip-files00122thm.jpg'
88cce7291f9b81948cc947a692be712a
0408a6d499ac53cf93a3277b42a37b49dd0cc106
describe
'1015609' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQE' 'sip-files00123.jp2'
761de9d7a340dceb91e723e0fd45f420
548945de88fe012f62d516e3af22b4b992d6d27e
describe
'109421' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQF' 'sip-files00123.jpg'
229907309c1f7e024804c67c280fea16
24ddd1909aef873ddff24c158b2e489445bd9046
describe
'46624' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQG' 'sip-files00123.pro'
d4a41bc2b05986aafbb6a478a6760ce1
8f2b4edad7df2f77fcdbcb82b53a315695d313ff
describe
'38106' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQH' 'sip-files00123.QC.jpg'
83832b6288ccd56eb6c0882ef198102a
70c80aef34ec82efa53cbc43d8fbabedb9519894
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQI' 'sip-files00123.tif'
72a03054e03d98c238750bf390548fef
b78bc4624adc49e45e88d139988e485a75e45cc2
describe
'1927' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQJ' 'sip-files00123.txt'
07f1ff28e926c985d4976dc40630f4a6
0b0764bed66a585ae1a1f98bcae449a00b566a83
describe
'10325' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQK' 'sip-files00123thm.jpg'
99863d224ffd8df6d196586cc006fb87
14d0d440d1eed071aa6aa932af7554a359f45f29
describe
'1041517' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQL' 'sip-files00124.jp2'
07424936e2deb208b934ee0ae19dd5de
81af63cd5d7228db32439035899991365bf9b1ed
describe
'109439' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQM' 'sip-files00124.jpg'
2ca84e0d534e006d461808cdf6e3dbac
d8f647cc5a9bf650ddc5543e0f6b171c71dfe582
describe
'47296' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQN' 'sip-files00124.pro'
a6bad0d5ae60b6878155c6c6560945da
4ed25b7db26f20a48ba6a783edb2ce9f5d8344de
describe
'38334' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQO' 'sip-files00124.QC.jpg'
91e475aadb805deaf6816b98bcec3147
6c044dec63d94a24f7bbd5fbdaf47a082bcdcccf
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQP' 'sip-files00124.tif'
f95a5e0a305042905dd638e98b6283e0
1a47c8226c31043cbb083d467955664c7b75300d
describe
'1976' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQQ' 'sip-files00124.txt'
7415bfc214b1d2832ab6ca4a096dfaa6
d1bd2ecb1fdcf6fef0b64d49e4ef30707dfacb80
describe
'9884' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQR' 'sip-files00124thm.jpg'
ab80c76309b0503ba4af52d83dd59754
17571b46a2107d95094737e5d90a7d3796eb23e7
describe
'1015649' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQS' 'sip-files00125.jp2'
651a5d8d7ea34cf34f93b9a19e99d22c
c3a8943d0d6df03c7275aa23781ea92c47621793
describe
'77675' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQT' 'sip-files00125.jpg'
21771e502fc45c2316bfa17ef4690c3b
b99556d35ca18ea83c9a27844f3ff01a802ea910
describe
'31378' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQU' 'sip-files00125.pro'
eaaf1dbc2edd75e8f4fb1682615275a8
c88996c27b6c11c8c66abeeb278bffb4e8c71dea
'2011-11-14T22:25:33-05:00'
describe
'27315' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQV' 'sip-files00125.QC.jpg'
31acbd3788550c8e22027a42f3716268
e62e4af06ef0ff8a68d3de5db21e047cf8b50dd2
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQW' 'sip-files00125.tif'
b698bd1aa39961df58d6f3ae2b7ef38c
20ff555eae4e73feb562199285ae2951642b90fb
describe
'1324' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQX' 'sip-files00125.txt'
14d5eaaa1d22115ec04bc85c62778d0d
af8823a942649cd86ac03efa38a48cabf93ed7c1
describe
'7597' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQY' 'sip-files00125thm.jpg'
256a70bc80f54d2d6461825c2097fd15
6f4031651fa6070c5eec151d180f5ab4187b9cee
describe
'1041447' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKQZ' 'sip-files00126.jp2'
e696b767de25329d586e097d0cf0a50c
31dade9de5201d82c1810417a5769b60cc2a9060
describe
'74837' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRA' 'sip-files00126.jpg'
38f779c1b91c9b15782b0dd971b76ff1
147614a6538ec55bbd4b2605f835a3a7546ceee3
describe
'30798' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRB' 'sip-files00126.pro'
bfd92269675d39fbb3b91978829b1970
0343afc7385fbc8f5f6259c53c538c52393a247d
describe
'25720' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRC' 'sip-files00126.QC.jpg'
8b2f4b0798db54c7131fc4ff2da8d97e
ea2fca89a034151c8f00644fdca665c41932e733
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRD' 'sip-files00126.tif'
e420b395bdedc49938ada5d11ed5736b
4b600c181dca8cecfced84fc46c91832c6a7e631
'2011-11-14T22:24:11-05:00'
describe
'1348' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRE' 'sip-files00126.txt'
3baa6e06d68e037fdaad54fa5691f308
ed1146d6b8e7e019774471a071da14248f9e9334
describe
'7077' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRF' 'sip-files00126thm.jpg'
84c0344ed1d462518d60b3fafa9ab5b7
0f0c90d148d5060347a4e7a49d479764f384e9c5
describe
'1015701' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRG' 'sip-files00127.jp2'
84747e3c4997d8e842c6f45f1861c5e1
a910b985a685b029d8038ff4458017e7e75ae3ca
describe
'89789' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRH' 'sip-files00127.jpg'
642f0ff51eaeef5142d5a46070577d74
da6cb399f397903282a21cf7d2e300e3749ad95d
describe
'43667' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRI' 'sip-files00127.pro'
8021225d6a3f68a0477650181ba8ab34
19cf76709c3df8161d574757c9383c7e7f3d527e
describe
'30989' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRJ' 'sip-files00127.QC.jpg'
1b9d2f402562ceef927772da8c1b2c9c
4f5b5dbd0d055ca755072286edc1194c737b80e6
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRK' 'sip-files00127.tif'
db4dc21f28c5225481103e064c11018c
659143c9ca533a6e5759eb0ad3b1f36145c2cad0
'2011-11-14T22:23:58-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRL' 'sip-files00127.txt'
eea121da3a3850e669423c54db0a6e02
067a01380c23f0d9f3a179e110348d7510d24bb0
describe
'8774' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRM' 'sip-files00127thm.jpg'
101ad4de5b772f9f6c949f4e55fec40f
b6b9c0fe49fd620d862df425ab415bb7f59f9f13
describe
'1041451' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRN' 'sip-files00128.jp2'
2718fc1ea549088d678b350487e166ce
d155673ce9194173181032944142b2ddae920c0f
describe
'106028' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRO' 'sip-files00128.jpg'
5d3ef386fa206beecc190c20de88548f
4abbffc6602a90aaee23037ff04208084cb5023a
describe
'47876' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRP' 'sip-files00128.pro'
68663f79aeae7eddb06ed1449a409ce1
f6bcfff73d36f8df36883ebc31d936bc334b1d09
describe
'37051' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRQ' 'sip-files00128.QC.jpg'
86a85db5add57522735e04c2842b857c
f8e53f6e0815b504b05213e18cfe8744bf091be0
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRR' 'sip-files00128.tif'
86418b42d805dd51fb584721054edcdc
ddbaf49da19a35c8127cbb8bd5b0428ef001702a
'2011-11-14T22:25:04-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRS' 'sip-files00128.txt'
e72204303a886dcb4a8fc61a51e5c9c5
adf54461ab03327203900b1d4a76f8e232fe6a37
describe
'9575' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRT' 'sip-files00128thm.jpg'
07ccc87d40f374220482dd714c790ac5
6e1ed26705bee92ee3bfd2d68a55137cff775d02
describe
'1015743' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRU' 'sip-files00129.jp2'
0f629c74f1511ede2cd19711e269d704
b458cadf8c74adaba1ab11cda69935c7679b2258
describe
'104256' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRV' 'sip-files00129.jpg'
fd1490b1a607eb5ccf5d5da6b9cd6514
47468ace0bc84c784d9f5a48c82123e1bf2bf44e
describe
'45971' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRW' 'sip-files00129.pro'
64da3529936e77455dfd6d30294ede7d
ea4fd46a7267be05c4e305718195598b514b59ae
'2011-11-14T22:22:57-05:00'
describe
'37086' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRX' 'sip-files00129.QC.jpg'
96771caa2fa97b1199f73fd8425db393
9593c93d365260499cede11432a694830b52b18c
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRY' 'sip-files00129.tif'
41ec188179b20c7af9d238353bd7ce5d
69cbee2c937cee08a3ea1e37456559f5d18c9de2
'2011-11-14T22:23:15-05:00'
describe
'1924' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKRZ' 'sip-files00129.txt'
674e513530429301eefc514977aecf97
40e1f337c97668c9f1dd903ae5f0f1ce68ff6d68
describe
'9958' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSA' 'sip-files00129thm.jpg'
447d4c6567f721fc032c6b3758496be3
de050c08ade96c98b62743327b640e242515a846
describe
'1041510' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSB' 'sip-files00130.jp2'
56a636429aad580a776d3a7ec6a430b8
8f1e14f1b885f4f845be496dbd04711f5413879a
describe
'105033' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSC' 'sip-files00130.jpg'
bc7171b81aa0088bc1068a8e4b03a8ee
2ea78b8940de9a96844fc521b48900f5a38e87ec
describe
'45449' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSD' 'sip-files00130.pro'
ea8a1d35208cf3fe6cfec75fa1439608
24272828492cd086299c16f7b756f0c892b8e3aa
describe
'36264' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSE' 'sip-files00130.QC.jpg'
7f8b10e0b7b99208454b06c85c81e857
4f3c7e47a2584e5b736db6e4024cb78245a54c08
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSF' 'sip-files00130.tif'
cc45c4aa2eba2784fe2673aa53c7d1a5
50d75a0cccb9defe485b130616ebd4d15d656c14
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSG' 'sip-files00130.txt'
4f16d31004cbc8a6681a08bb8d3812e2
6fe3a706f1ead3fd8c5cc6ee0c605149467299c3
describe
'9465' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSH' 'sip-files00130thm.jpg'
2ecd4f09d33a42356fca3354a86efb83
d4de3756ecdc8472501d08a2b8dcf44f3a2780cd
describe
'653969' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSI' 'sip-files00131.jp2'
bb98c44bb4566a7bd3a98eb28f575a4b
f1a2d421b604d077ae46f1c52313bab2dc4d49d5
describe
'26565' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSJ' 'sip-files00131.jpg'
0097610e59c641a635aeb5331932337f
6b3efedffe353b0cc65009793d04d4f8822b7439
describe
'6098' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSK' 'sip-files00131.pro'
a925fcfd4f983138506e5064864abae8
c40090c78d5f20d787e49de760e0a1b837c52ff8
'2011-11-14T22:25:56-05:00'
describe
'8602' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSL' 'sip-files00131.QC.jpg'
5a1669114dac66bfff91ee3480c93bd4
3e0beaa66d4ee35d36d2f9ceaaff5709683ea6eb
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSM' 'sip-files00131.tif'
0e4bf73b1332077b97a6f9c0d5f45e12
65fef70734c371c4c93bc9e30f61922640d53418
describe
'268' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSN' 'sip-files00131.txt'
fc7859ac77ce34791057d9bd25b096bc
a05275d987709bf5baddf530cd6657395390310e
describe
'2810' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSO' 'sip-files00131thm.jpg'
fb2671231dccb64016c938fbb23537e3
1842f73345f0a3477a0e6f6a70b5099a587dd2d4
describe
'1041506' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSP' 'sip-files00132.jp2'
7a295e4a1bed43195966fef3b2dd5846
396a31c79a2a3bff08c017f61c7b83a9d176bc5a
describe
'75548' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSQ' 'sip-files00132.jpg'
47f6a36e036f54358f5e3ce29c7749de
fec52efdd914d4fa68ef37e69c14440285184007
describe
'31600' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSR' 'sip-files00132.pro'
fa803bbae2bbbaaa95b17c8ef376e547
f6db553e13f2a571670d98a37d2f9963155d5227
describe
'25665' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSS' 'sip-files00132.QC.jpg'
dfbe7035c22b1506e7bbdb1efdc6c432
7ccab423b17ca9f22679a649f91667d684e58058
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKST' 'sip-files00132.tif'
c7e46c3f716c8bca75377502709ada2a
17e19f5574f6e79a1f50ee957aabb26206150fc1
'2011-11-14T22:24:26-05:00'
describe
'1364' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSU' 'sip-files00132.txt'
e6f2513006c0142c25b5298d08e64419
f435cdf4666bf500e0b740c8e76c17c385d73295
describe
'7172' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSV' 'sip-files00132thm.jpg'
7cf52aff383ccda640601337a7e8db58
07778272bc3d1044addda2a9e62acb555b34f89e
describe
'1015761' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSW' 'sip-files00133.jp2'
7b3f8a93a5b81da1e3e11ab4d51bf0ec
2f09386c5ba66186496f3fc5f0334222e7c311c2
describe
'103835' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSX' 'sip-files00133.jpg'
5283f92a744e66af449f0ffa73e97dde
028c644a07348d6f0781c2545b673e97a7322f98
describe
'44252' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSY' 'sip-files00133.pro'
385ed0d1f31d28f8a110ac0a3c547e10
8cc2f9a8e3407507896294ea06ef5ec3273a8df1
describe
'36862' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKSZ' 'sip-files00133.QC.jpg'
1093236f74885fcfa0569eff0a699f9e
068aae31c745470333977a70a85916b37d98a614
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTA' 'sip-files00133.tif'
bd9b3fb15d40f87153cb3584234949df
42f8d82347e448c56aca6d748aa9222000a7cc27
describe
'1847' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTB' 'sip-files00133.txt'
60c8873ed4ef74750fde8ff28469c90e
3b0f244338be190133d2f0031c8370281195474f
describe
'10043' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTC' 'sip-files00133thm.jpg'
1f98cea48d5b3b64a41c15d58a8d5edf
6ada574d4a659594a503eed3cbb3b8c832639fc5
describe
'1041505' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTD' 'sip-files00134.jp2'
ac5d908266b34f8c4e8830634cf093b1
5650bd73b4d2e7e208a35badcbc4e7d3b73f50a8
'2011-11-14T22:27:04-05:00'
describe
'84402' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTE' 'sip-files00134.jpg'
42d9789f8d9be41c724406f21f1057c7
ef8ebc244986d276b27a098b4b12072f1481d81b
describe
'41077' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTF' 'sip-files00134.pro'
7bce4d3c3a70225f512bf36bc760f878
8bd67e0ebafc7fb2f3a0a4298b86c232b3fd518d
describe
'28715' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTG' 'sip-files00134.QC.jpg'
4eb534233958a85521e3a6ecc950528a
1a421f411516b61404ef9ad6fb58f3fc9e8900df
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTH' 'sip-files00134.tif'
465c120e7ab6f47f95b6484e33a12dd0
4c57200ea5f7c67cff3498beb003a6c984b7fd69
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTI' 'sip-files00134.txt'
2023fdb140a817cd8e57718ef9c4087a
decd8dce538b426bb4309f1b056d4494ed72ae30
'2011-11-14T22:21:15-05:00'
describe
'7791' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTJ' 'sip-files00134thm.jpg'
e38a9de830547ad2b8661315ca945a55
2d35c17c72a789c4bff19eda19902414e6de1681
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTK' 'sip-files00135.jp2'
80e79802008d37f1784b4ea3187cca74
2c0708f51bc14ccb4ddeb1a3095ae563ec57e874
'2011-11-14T22:24:44-05:00'
describe
'99621' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTL' 'sip-files00135.jpg'
8312f4ecfb0a1dcbb8a5160577b302ef
85b011d9c03160a521478a15eb1c2ea3611b612b
describe
'46387' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTM' 'sip-files00135.pro'
3878ee5712e26e517a1e6d4298cd5e73
61561429d18599f01d17b6181892691ae3b93a91
describe
'34781' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTN' 'sip-files00135.QC.jpg'
673f9cfd145aa768ca05e44a1cc84cf4
85515f3cbc8ecb9fc2350bcd5b372ad512f9e5ad
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTO' 'sip-files00135.tif'
42d116c4c21ea04934587dd4077d65c6
b00db88b5e0b1d6dc0c63706c5707593afb99a7a
describe
'1981' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTP' 'sip-files00135.txt'
96e5b4b55d21722d37c07233b9900f3d
1f30183600ee0b7a549c3b69ee3f78772170e3d6
'2011-11-14T22:26:25-05:00'
describe
'9237' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTQ' 'sip-files00135thm.jpg'
93f01ce400b4bcda3a8fd5e0215a63e1
0f44e01da4528716f6312a64150b3dcc0c19e21c
describe
'1041515' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTR' 'sip-files00136.jp2'
00e27f683b98ccdcb66e4e54fac0a296
d902e1e04a5ff21851f5655924823f767eb1d14f
describe
'85987' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTS' 'sip-files00136.jpg'
0eec2fb6f29246d439bc79452b5fd4dd
b6124d81e3a77e2b9293012253712be3e61859aa
describe
'38942' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTT' 'sip-files00136.pro'
f1d62e4411441f0aec7d385acd247912
f59e1c4ab724f5efc8123377563a1969ad621b86
describe
'29767' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTU' 'sip-files00136.QC.jpg'
1b50220cd5971767b252074cdcd3d9dd
9a61c17c94ea0d2852a9d3b08fda833173b3782c
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTV' 'sip-files00136.tif'
b63d444f9e84a8bcda270cdcc072a139
328b5ce79ed02d6d9d284cb61ec55aaf6f435e76
'2011-11-14T22:25:27-05:00'
describe
'1799' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTW' 'sip-files00136.txt'
75710a5af35f0c03a0bcfcdf32d54a5f
5d72665bf863b3cb6fbe8d238998f06324838694
describe
'8189' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTX' 'sip-files00136thm.jpg'
f123f15832a6f710d109a95d93656116
a08400c0764f7644722d4785120487ce2e8171dc
describe
'1032829' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTY' 'sip-files00137.jp2'
ba5bff8784a0db954c2fd17f56ba34dd
f96f60d574a0403e033bc3a0f733cfdedfc671a0
describe
'110427' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKTZ' 'sip-files00137.jpg'
c43dc9833f558a0f6cc5271692ed6c30
72fad882f6d8425a505f45afbf09a7132a22f6be
describe
'46411' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUA' 'sip-files00137.pro'
dfcc1a687c29b50b9fad7e1f73903fbe
ebc3f38f654676e746942c41796f98f8e34c216d
describe
'38937' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUB' 'sip-files00137.QC.jpg'
e42c9af935190ab288a2b8224a738259
b07e723a9285babe9307b89b1e872ef4a09bbc06
describe
'8271991' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUC' 'sip-files00137.tif'
8b8cb87745145b8affe38ed8ad0ba74b
b3f7472df047eac8448dfb82278e3d3eb0cd1c7f
'2011-11-14T22:21:16-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUD' 'sip-files00137.txt'
6957db10979f22f5a4fbc5105476b8ad
4e25df0204f24b14cdbd14d38f80e42603ffeebe
describe
'10160' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUE' 'sip-files00137thm.jpg'
471e5d80f2460c0f8ba9e6900244a997
6ff7ccaee4960a14785d8321e02297f921b2c841
describe
'1042376' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUF' 'sip-files00138.jp2'
56b1d4bdb0113e51de15fcf4cb7cbda8
85b107cd065ca6c473cf6527ed740d0a93a05b43
describe
'108016' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUG' 'sip-files00138.jpg'
929f4ebd8466616e265ba1b7c45cc03d
a16945dfffc7ac971ccfcff1e5b753d34e9e59f1
describe
'44595' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUH' 'sip-files00138.pro'
b58a931fefa9351ae0543585b0e46b32
cb359d193ec914c41cd439986d5ffac70fbfb30b
describe
'38205' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUI' 'sip-files00138.QC.jpg'
4048117826839163d1c347c4ca25f120
003d7abd95a258a359ddbe97c4eec9ab9064d8ca
describe
'8348421' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUJ' 'sip-files00138.tif'
1161531606d8e2423ccd34b82d7912a1
f4ff2185b4d46a8fdf569b7ac7a142205f456c8c
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUK' 'sip-files00138.txt'
153e69b4c0274f264a72facd924aa777
94aae5041dc2c69a7315e1e23a1ac70447591044
'2011-11-14T22:21:28-05:00'
describe
'9821' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUL' 'sip-files00138thm.jpg'
15295fcf35beea78b564946818f21ba8
da523984318ac32f3769f8218af35ee311f781f3
describe
'1032790' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUM' 'sip-files00139.jp2'
b486090f5b112f26b57aae72a5ab3c1d
ec8e8131a56116f3262502696b17a9c1b25e5905
describe
'78184' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUN' 'sip-files00139.jpg'
7175a03d20befff68739883234cee7c4
8522f64c5f2d4bc299079a2ba9b89613c7350abf
describe
'30990' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUO' 'sip-files00139.pro'
097ef77dba1f6bf7f32e218cce78d962
531959a1c1943c81026c4dd7c7e4976f5cd28bcc
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUP' 'sip-files00139.QC.jpg'
64d2e3cd196e896a1a80128f1e7070f0
5afa428e684c20bc4282d2cd8692ec21d9878a1e
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUQ' 'sip-files00139.tif'
8ba41bcec0fecb09da85150c9c5713f6
4ea8574db60c8191071616e747d13558bd37dbdb
'2011-11-14T22:25:32-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUR' 'sip-files00139.txt'
6ad912576c7a36f6065777b927ba156b
62062565705c8d905967633fdffeda7066d78f2a
describe
'7196' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUS' 'sip-files00139thm.jpg'
42e34530e42925062498168f1ffead62
f50ced8ad244c9c5658caec83ba29e871d77f3e5
describe
'1042361' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUT' 'sip-files00140.jp2'
c2fe6193a6ac729377696bc6af29c050
82cc2a62d4b6270347a4708e540eca8fce3c6bf1
describe
'75418' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUU' 'sip-files00140.jpg'
de403a22badcc3f62c75dc9cf66447b7
470ee23f444b74db189072bdb2a59a5aef333d14
describe
'31650' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUV' 'sip-files00140.pro'
01d683f8229b79b91c7b7d9b86ccb7c0
ad39f2776c1a0a50d777226fa984f810c476cab5
'2011-11-14T22:24:05-05:00'
describe
'24828' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUW' 'sip-files00140.QC.jpg'
33238c1e9d7978fa1f77a8df748c2f50
3d83acbd678d62dc1ea44c7b5c115600dbbfb685
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUX' 'sip-files00140.tif'
bc4547211094db132bd287985c9f50f6
c9d79ecbeff1ce18f043dd35c0c69a64c352188d
'2011-11-14T22:21:36-05:00'
describe
'1460' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUY' 'sip-files00140.txt'
59c0cc8a536e97a311b47c991dedbdbe
69501fcc3f5b425a0976e056ae30c57c7685f3ef
describe
'6722' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKUZ' 'sip-files00140thm.jpg'
dc10b746c69b80d0b4f391393e7fca10
52feb7ac659329a7fb07315fb38d9cd21ca21abe
describe
'1032816' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVA' 'sip-files00141.jp2'
5782009df5b3c73ac6d64783fda221ef
50939b10daf1741ddbe60f4657f732607bd3b234
describe
'109492' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVB' 'sip-files00141.jpg'
cf10e648a8d0efe579b8448e226ed1c8
e81e9a66e289a1c48137327f3887105aea948bc9
describe
'47218' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVC' 'sip-files00141.pro'
d25af9eaf66473949542ea578087f932
032ee7b1dee4673c33d7c4365cd93e7aec73861d
describe
'38723' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVD' 'sip-files00141.QC.jpg'
c08e43f3cd286bbc90106a8ec2891c85
fda133b9a42e0f98b38ef8fe2375a7487ebf8ede
'2011-11-14T22:23:25-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVE' 'sip-files00141.tif'
d24c244d8b6b7e527093b3080340ae44
fccacafa9c88dc70b989b0fe538673e5cccc269c
describe
'2006' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVF' 'sip-files00141.txt'
5ca22561217800e080a28674e9f89314
576cf0bc24c3b39ca1c3a24e30735bcd76e4a25a
describe
'10267' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVG' 'sip-files00141thm.jpg'
27c3c335055f91844840ee324a87134c
204f859fc6bb8eb4617004972428f0389d3f20b1
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVH' 'sip-files00142.jp2'
c3d61e64c261f6196a96ba8d6129bac5
b3a9144ff67a2fe8c8327dda85fa1dc636aefb4c
describe
'109443' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVI' 'sip-files00142.jpg'
5a1a913f57860a0b067829f62c1ed5e6
2df38aa6f9458df4870c178cc77c3cf780c1ce7d
describe
'45784' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVJ' 'sip-files00142.pro'
d3188a1ce3eef666ab9997cb870b5b38
ff715f9aac9af3d3d9918ce883d5e8eecc2b8b0d
describe
'37474' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVK' 'sip-files00142.QC.jpg'
36659df32e96f5229197381d7bc1bd5d
f4fd1a4f8655fd82401e9354a4998112e84c68bd
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVL' 'sip-files00142.tif'
2e728ef1c465bf05e5782b62b5ba6caa
7432944f9ad7a62a7938dd424a589943be1c3f41
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVM' 'sip-files00142.txt'
5cbf7618cca3d11f289d664d71da5c32
b021bfbe14fc4a3195228bb1a75904e63fd8ecaf
describe
'9441' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVN' 'sip-files00142thm.jpg'
88ca727d390eaae498fcaa24c5e69508
a8734d33f382c422ca2c6173f58cbcedd2886f10
describe
'1019937' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVO' 'sip-files00143.jp2'
b75a003fc2dc408622bddd76e6ffbcd7
bf79bc474ef8fe33f26c0d9a95e1fea460ded4b6
describe
'109106' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVP' 'sip-files00143.jpg'
85e14ea5f1855bdd2ff056f6a96223fe
9b372627d3be819f96a409693dceb6d3b30a9e34
describe
'46608' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVQ' 'sip-files00143.pro'
ccae3d1941e14dbf20d85b8e82b1f3cd
82b2baec3c3a26eaad27e61807723bf6be6b164a
describe
'38788' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVR' 'sip-files00143.QC.jpg'
aceaf88f54ec95183a7a0ad1d5293d73
fd39be8e718458e60c893d75b9e18616f97546ca
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVS' 'sip-files00143.tif'
69d659ea0d792cc45b42fe22f7244a20
f0f6fe858a95301fbd575fa4dd5e9f934ae26ba9
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVT' 'sip-files00143.txt'
3d2148405c31237524d12a29ebb4eafd
f8a84d42d36c8eb7b15bd0d21bcb5b533f926706
describe
'9944' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVU' 'sip-files00143thm.jpg'
3f7d100b19f97668d661266e48976ad3
8ede7272ea49a22955332302e662ec6dc3171699
describe
'1042200' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVV' 'sip-files00144.jp2'
96b1df2e07f4e8367ab0f90f160c8a57
848f803e2251366b055a2e8de0414789af8fd8f1
describe
'109277' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVW' 'sip-files00144.jpg'
8c965e6d7a65a4f537cad1b77a12ef5e
0ac00a26c2c90db978705ec2aaf6f88d644ea24f
describe
'46239' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVX' 'sip-files00144.pro'
a2d4650695aeda7063c9e95ef7e40456
8155030d1b12f035f27fda29ed4236df4bb8c69b
describe
'39239' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVY' 'sip-files00144.QC.jpg'
9527709c8ffaf398c6e44c01afb02e87
2452cbcc993fdcae6e6a4907fdc040094de08f9d
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKVZ' 'sip-files00144.tif'
5186e889a5ce35173f0d3b77b8a0c854
bb73c14a497ccddcc5a60e441ce44a43156596af
describe
'1937' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWA' 'sip-files00144.txt'
e8b029df2d324f3d9b222022ff9d2fba
c81f213de5fddb2d975cb30f5e6a38006faffa08
describe
'9999' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWB' 'sip-files00144thm.jpg'
7fd522f79eafbe5c3e835cb00137fead
135df143efddfe3d917e2f2e069f5dc3a4c49743
describe
'1019777' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWC' 'sip-files00145.jp2'
1f8a726b525e1daf1a194032f08c3906
dc7fff0b9f2c824ac925aba5e5334f5608c5e7c9
'2011-11-14T22:23:29-05:00'
describe
'108143' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWD' 'sip-files00145.jpg'
4c5e5b6b9a8f77db08b072fadbf288f4
6bd9740a812d5ded03875164c8d01dd503faec53
describe
'47109' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWE' 'sip-files00145.pro'
81a6954fb9827945532ef88168cf369b
70938aed4ea707ad927a7a92871c328d14df41fe
describe
'38139' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWF' 'sip-files00145.QC.jpg'
0f5a59375907afe79c6a8a5feff19686
03ef853dcf47d46f2b85c3c548ffbb7128781039
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWG' 'sip-files00145.tif'
8f12bb56a9d49db5030e0b777dd7a6b9
a65b7ef1dd164198597fe0a77b61cdfd3412cf7e
describe
'1965' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWH' 'sip-files00145.txt'
584c20e9787d6b3c6a9e04c385be4115
a86b7d6fa80f41d30b81edbc312df8c9308266bc
describe
'9728' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWI' 'sip-files00145thm.jpg'
65cc972573847d03d3315f5be4c5c80f
dd48b3873d2f3cd8e5a77f62ad377812c2c90638
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWJ' 'sip-files00146.jp2'
3c192d6ebcfd41022fa46dacc1cdf13b
e5298a3f9a757524d5b91ff29f8bc650bd96fa8a
describe
'111247' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWK' 'sip-files00146.jpg'
d2fec64f82e05b4b18f65a29aeda0914
fa2e75753a714ce7bf5584449cf3d25a8577f548
describe
'48152' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWL' 'sip-files00146.pro'
6ba5f094b4eee46ba18cbdc8ed56560d
8fc924f3aab6894eea09f0ecd2a87c6bcc7c71e4
describe
'38157' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWM' 'sip-files00146.QC.jpg'
fab92a8b379b6dcd429b2a5f17230870
57784e17751eae2444dacef0fb439684ad1cd9c4
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWN' 'sip-files00146.tif'
acb458fdcd3b46499cc4a4083108a701
1b73caa6e1e083ef6953ff57f2ad33337ce3df7d
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWO' 'sip-files00146.txt'
3edd734b17cb1d868a4ad98f66fb8696
305ebf57e9f2e0d1a586c5816de228a80503caab
describe
'9685' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWP' 'sip-files00146thm.jpg'
aa1e3d96139dfbae66e4bbb669d10054
c8380230a6177830ca4a84bec8d74f2b5042bf7d
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWQ' 'sip-files00147.jp2'
050e9d0dd6690880292545c3281eedfe
c459eea0a32b813d75682265289e0dd23e5c4aeb
describe
'110558' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWR' 'sip-files00147.jpg'
7db5bcb0ee12ca745a980a5fef3ae8fc
d43d6eb5d20c4ee505883b1ce58d5468d7379822
describe
'47167' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWS' 'sip-files00147.pro'
b58212db09178b75e6b4f21e50f34ba4
c4958ca520bcd6d22ce6f3d326247b01de105dd0
describe
'39895' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWT' 'sip-files00147.QC.jpg'
feccaf3f27dff4759e1e9165d5785571
496dd630934208aaf70fa99b60738845316e4110
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWU' 'sip-files00147.tif'
a9116df408448d01c86fa151d4056ace
72f6d112955b518717967f76693e1600ab39a84a
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWV' 'sip-files00147.txt'
8214a6c55bf405d1aa6366ab05f05041
2cc4ec969d55e266660ca5e15cda41c466e8e1e9
describe
'10266' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWW' 'sip-files00147thm.jpg'
f47e620c634abe6edb769431086c9bdb
3b17a87a3e9e96687fe7500964371cb5be9632ff
describe
'1042382' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWX' 'sip-files00148.jp2'
7c1ca77c2b01810d60cee9fae26d6c6c
7ed8546dfac70db951f4940fe8a62592093fcdde
describe
'82871' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWY' 'sip-files00148.jpg'
a592657ef6291e1469eb0e1c1f8378fa
e088990caead55a1c5c3ace378e28057e2257720
describe
'32588' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKWZ' 'sip-files00148.pro'
9f3f1a05b1d6ec31ad61801af50b8b29
03a55c3b3530cbe03373e0257c281a7f08d619e7
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXA' 'sip-files00148.QC.jpg'
f43a7b7092b98b8173199dc600264194
71f0213610a1c5c6baa3ebc63a49ccd3bcd43885
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXB' 'sip-files00148.tif'
6448fa6edefad8c5fb2e659a633faa6b
eff4e2c6a21c864b47276179e89b20c2a0beec38
describe
'1355' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXC' 'sip-files00148.txt'
12fd690a46d546d6a56dc7e50e52456c
48bf8a74fd2e4bae0c944ca6ef0cfe0e356774c0
describe
'7481' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXD' 'sip-files00148thm.jpg'
e08041a15bb64be0a03e75588e92410f
059e716356dd33dfdd7d0475139d22c0481124e4
describe
'1030309' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXE' 'sip-files00149.jp2'
c1339546fd5adc165540ea9396cea868
d17a1b0707fe41568237d78d057a07c44940c7a5
describe
'75895' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXF' 'sip-files00149.jpg'
e86ec0599802db1bc155e01ce4196ed0
d4f2a113d6a83fc997fb1d8094c964d623225263
describe
'32006' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXG' 'sip-files00149.pro'
119a2e0e23c18b1c13857f3c5a66ffb8
a86d3b3ea2bd4334a04966773fbe88260c076374
describe
'26229' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXH' 'sip-files00149.QC.jpg'
cccfdbc6cd8279fa7385b28c0cd6b630
779ce15940bef213d638a17d3d26d2efafd8d1c3
describe
'8252389' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXI' 'sip-files00149.tif'
1ae050904344ec69dddafedb2d1a3ba5
0295e49fd631456d7546ffee3a0fb6c2413914bb
'2011-11-14T22:25:53-05:00'
describe
'1377' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXJ' 'sip-files00149.txt'
a72904d6c481ca25e23591caaa86af9b
5fa80271b7ab3bb831d21a505bf9e78146ab02e2
describe
'7105' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXK' 'sip-files00149thm.jpg'
dc30022033da792ffa0ad04c578ad516
543fb347559f964eccccd28c3291edc614b5a185
describe
'1017279' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXL' 'sip-files00150.jp2'
2e77e1d976e419c8af768baaa5fd45f8
32da613ad14aa824f69b30ec1bdd95bcfb1c0aa2
describe
'79996' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXM' 'sip-files00150.jpg'
cac1cc0b786c756f4cdf388c0902fdc6
f99b1143df105baa1b480b5710da1c8b544f9281
describe
'34188' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXN' 'sip-files00150.pro'
e43b4076dbe8e4a4add139f68aa55376
c9bf096b622f5a81b1f437f7cb3d7e2422be3e9f
describe
'27854' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXO' 'sip-files00150.QC.jpg'
1d704c94948ce473c3a752714d44cbf9
5c2393eaf8ed194556bd413ec1df35b8081c7092
describe
'8147591' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXP' 'sip-files00150.tif'
a2784bd9feb64096e02a571cc3eaff1f
d431b4604178ce61d0f9d64ab3ce606fa51950e0
describe
'1614' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXQ' 'sip-files00150.txt'
5cf4d66557e8151293146e16b6084008
ddab519cbccb60886dccdefe833e3e99e6f2121b
describe
'7580' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXR' 'sip-files00150thm.jpg'
1d93374db0f8bc3af7e531aacd32d07e
1c4820c062bf11298fb4f5df6ec067e80f250bab
describe
'1030275' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXS' 'sip-files00151.jp2'
486a6bd90f16b8821da263be58b1e8f6
8e4cebd944c933b7d2b930f9b2ff23a7a128debc
describe
'82286' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXT' 'sip-files00151.jpg'
888cd23db4203afcffeac014a84c0914
c57146b2da6b4bc6a1a445b0ebddd9adb16bfb05
describe
'37085' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXU' 'sip-files00151.pro'
2a4065ada98423a9db8b1794971d28a1
9e180f3544ce360c09d59af2c0ac4ce77184df47
describe
'29114' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXV' 'sip-files00151.QC.jpg'
7c0adeeb35ef9508e8fa30a61afbaf2b
5a16bedf488196539d0fe8e5d2159076da4e83a0
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXW' 'sip-files00151.tif'
8022ddb0a82eb68a00ccdf8832f9b678
ebf5b9febb3c6f0cf158d9f4671f2d034df0669d
'2011-11-14T22:26:55-05:00'
describe
'1777' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXX' 'sip-files00151.txt'
cd290648c96537cbfd13870da3478bdb
dd26d13e05174a26179f08eae74b43f477a73797
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXY' 'sip-files00151thm.jpg'
a8dcd7448846cabb6b98f04051ea4fa3
8a0f60a1f5abce250f6ebd0ee5ef18d9da0c8c3e
describe
'1017291' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKXZ' 'sip-files00152.jp2'
428901dfbd6bee1ca1d4f1c9146b11ca
fbf4ac4666eed8792f61beb663efa43d247c28d3
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYA' 'sip-files00152.jpg'
801c51549f903e251854020d8069fdc1
9a4a6db18218652dd0271cea8ac2585fee35e3e6
describe
'44168' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYB' 'sip-files00152.pro'
d3d5acf7e1a9b8fc0a5c28e75fc32dc2
afb38eb3da001d75991e07ab2ea6b0738b0c1a77
describe
'35863' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYC' 'sip-files00152.QC.jpg'
c938ae5c2b0486c2df6bf990866713f1
b2dfb88e21bb937fd8840dca79fd80c6ea846514
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYD' 'sip-files00152.tif'
7a15c6c7149102842f3990a503e77c44
c5b22e000763b4756b4e25068696787aa2077674
describe
'1857' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYE' 'sip-files00152.txt'
df49f7886101b6df57620d55a39885f0
ded848386f5631002e3ab61907834f6d52a85c21
describe
'9330' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYF' 'sip-files00152thm.jpg'
f250b5695ce6d8d0feffff83641079c5
643e622a14b2377ba3e17575ce22e22786239dcd
describe
'1030365' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYG' 'sip-files00153.jp2'
74e26d8f302e5ebf21ab5fe415d32521
1158a6682b8087faa1983d187aaee0bc592b7dca
describe
'99311' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYH' 'sip-files00153.jpg'
02791d33a736835505d79803bb87b1e9
d606af129b963d0c636fd591ccc0b718cadbe143
describe
'44882' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYI' 'sip-files00153.pro'
3f72991ec95614cb0592f5b27a8936cf
c7a41c0cd30c7e42c07341fe89d0d13a1ab6fb9b
describe
'34833' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYJ' 'sip-files00153.QC.jpg'
87904f80f6c560bb3c34815c80517665
80aeb8458bb561a767333672a4623f7ae545af87
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYK' 'sip-files00153.tif'
16562d258feb4a11a9f951c7ffd07f24
506938b590c510394532cc27d25999775e6a1c63
describe
'1941' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYL' 'sip-files00153.txt'
cf4842611e3a72561f5c8c0e69b7d2cc
22bd7cc4d4aa69290598d50333b4f3a1ba1bfa9c
describe
'9076' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYM' 'sip-files00153thm.jpg'
22eacebcb4be6ad1e0e06edb56fdf280
0196e736a31f4b6e37c6ae7c765199a9eab06d61
describe
'1017293' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYN' 'sip-files00154.jp2'
5f786f42a75c43acd2c1b7fa5b8cd127
edb64b0343ce0c31abd08cad304b53e777a2d25d
describe
'82456' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYO' 'sip-files00154.jpg'
17162c874cabb5a3ddf7daa214c38d13
60bd31b03df58baa1ca0e2e004075ac8359e81f5
describe
'40533' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYP' 'sip-files00154.pro'
f2d1974461ea342830fde2ae6eae7fe0
7e04f4da7142debeb56a704c0e576e1076d7a6cc
describe
'27699' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYQ' 'sip-files00154.QC.jpg'
842b1d0ec5a9ecbe029db4c682ae58c6
96c04ed3ca046af768661dfaa2ac741cf5550978
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYR' 'sip-files00154.tif'
ebaf8a1f0aa918e010fd6a7322eeef92
d98ef5da7f35358b71b70b5c099b532c91bc2b34
describe
'1743' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYS' 'sip-files00154.txt'
efcc03ef39504ae1bcd12cb7b682ac34
ea3e233e43f14876bf800dddd0f54144cc63409f
describe
'7366' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYT' 'sip-files00154thm.jpg'
74734eec0ee605fd8cd6342fe21dc756
3f800542dcd2654d6789417440c79b3e9beb147e
describe
'1030372' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYU' 'sip-files00155.jp2'
45c9431eab0a55ee039dce7ff215ccc4
a91db6ade913c655226a36a36941d457c5247db6
'2011-11-14T22:24:42-05:00'
describe
'107838' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYV' 'sip-files00155.jpg'
fb83dba85a8c0c4865fdd40ea347840c
88c72c65d75381e33f06863087e2cee5f989c8dd
'2011-11-14T22:24:02-05:00'
describe
'48828' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYW' 'sip-files00155.pro'
17ed32c9a02052ad52c42452884b8d36
605957e5ec362fe319031d30619dc9b21036507e
describe
'37508' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYX' 'sip-files00155.QC.jpg'
724285692d1cca319d96584609fc7540
1f77722d75eb487fc77b70bb55a5fdc96e64e0c2
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYY' 'sip-files00155.tif'
3a0b929d7ff98925767fd9a2305d5e04
1ca5737c3b41d6047d15717e18f42e64dd0f2c63
describe
'2031' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKYZ' 'sip-files00155.txt'
fdfd0de15326e5cb3da2f12f0a203992
b8458d10ca27a12c52c1642d7d513d62aacc8813
describe
'9684' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZA' 'sip-files00155thm.jpg'
a0991a0eb3fa226f12215c7d0ab68b66
09ac9d31ac4e3c36310196e0ddb42c2ed55c9efd
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZB' 'sip-files00156.jp2'
cf0d84d44cff72f5934b011a7b907c61
f91fbfead1470e7a37733738ae7202d3352badf6
describe
'112608' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZC' 'sip-files00156.jpg'
4a83a6c59868600bb824bf8b4b452266
dccb5aa06ff9abfa7e4cc27b0cb13da4b1ad3b83
describe
'48705' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZD' 'sip-files00156.pro'
4d25d363a90897ea447d98ae59839036
ee9ca48c44608307ffa93e5d4d46273bc61c88e7
describe
'39392' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZE' 'sip-files00156.QC.jpg'
26b9615af876d23eccdceb36eb16e9ef
67e2920e42226654127ab5a200c61502b5c13d3d
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZF' 'sip-files00156.tif'
945f783c6b2ce9376c640c944a968848
bf2ac1f2fb4ad55fd2f2153b20a2c455083478c4
describe
'2052' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZG' 'sip-files00156.txt'
a1ebd3346f642d4b61cfedb000164042
17d868fd7920ed20d1528751d1492a8a63a28638
describe
'10100' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZH' 'sip-files00156thm.jpg'
2db224e467c3a353c3a98fb55ea313c7
b8074a51dd1e3e186e8a7ec41b97040b64623cec
describe
'716727' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZI' 'sip-files00157.jp2'
56cce172ad9ef44cead7387385a80b76
ac5fc4ebe4babf53206e8e0b3e13ebb29a6c842f
describe
'33951' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZJ' 'sip-files00157.jpg'
c76e80c51459e160f425098c449d0214
30ca109dbb645a1a42ef7ca72adc7c2dfc0b546d
describe
'9215' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZK' 'sip-files00157.pro'
d7b21c6ae47a6e021617ffc20210128e
ec9ac51c4abd8efb02763db471225987b87fb089
describe
'11725' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZL' 'sip-files00157.QC.jpg'
71be924d77c55b6f714f2dee01899381
d0d4dbd14e666c0ccec838a67d3033bd054c103c
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZM' 'sip-files00157.tif'
5efea76cd9c22382be11a41fbc33da57
787c1c517c8a39592594f53b1af7ce9698b58913
describe
'388' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZN' 'sip-files00157.txt'
283efbf2eb3948f46c4bc7f4ca489c21
815028fa4efc2c6dc98c985d8bbdfd436f7ccbd8
describe
'3494' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZO' 'sip-files00157thm.jpg'
ebe2d27b09445ba5352273ca50e1748f
9b6648bcdb9a3f54b31c888e9d640bb403f59013
describe
'1017250' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZP' 'sip-files00158.jp2'
0085565a66ef434c2d316c1ec2e4c040
e522ca67d8141b36455c4b0443d1a709de0e44a2
describe
'75042' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZQ' 'sip-files00158.jpg'
490574060597d325240fb7fab86fb461
2adc91c626af65dccae71eaa55d1e1a2f95d5cd0
describe
'33485' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZR' 'sip-files00158.pro'
e374b4bdbd4eff549829e7d037f52025
cdabd3d00519511ec2201d047fb536fc149ecab3
describe
'25056' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZS' 'sip-files00158.QC.jpg'
fe5d1f2b45fb663f85c3ef2be719dfe4
8e6f62e45c3f2a094fa2bb4aa1d56cf965bc165f
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZT' 'sip-files00158.tif'
4fca70aa29755cdeff195f152c15501d
0c927620dbab96a08dd849679a64eb93a94c628d
describe
'1557' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZU' 'sip-files00158.txt'
0b4cc59b7c3d3823c9a7982f6d1201f4
13b9e69a3fc49602468cc6d70d26bda078492c53
describe
'7011' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZV' 'sip-files00158thm.jpg'
9137a6b5a89c3ec13d13a11f705b58d1
1cffe936ab51a70926ef1ddac61d7c5e0ec8bb7c
describe
'1030369' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZW' 'sip-files00159.jp2'
f999833b904e73036d145240db5ae238
6bf008276c27c8d13c32f3650568daa8a117caa5
describe
'104016' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZX' 'sip-files00159.jpg'
2e16934f3842632b2a86db51366a4aef
413d1d0384ccdd07a6eab0371df5c8e207f23cfa
describe
'46306' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZY' 'sip-files00159.pro'
dce1c0f6e3301d04a3dd40b92c8ea036
dc4c20f5e94b94d3a6c6d54d64fdebcc6a66d11b
describe
'37099' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAAKZZ' 'sip-files00159.QC.jpg'
c3bbfdb502872fbe934687b0a7ff489b
f8b2026fe9d9ec6af211996a5d4ba73703a69aec
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAA' 'sip-files00159.tif'
d5327465d7354f6b6ee03cf21e320117
bf9dd63b100bdea192dabe0a34eaefa8d8b4c55e
describe
'1923' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAB' 'sip-files00159.txt'
8d8b41b22c632224da5eace00776c958
1bd20175d6964ba5705adde8e4fa6793b31592bf
describe
'9721' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAC' 'sip-files00159thm.jpg'
d32122e875c1a2818131ccdab68cd549
4a145f4a67af13b2a115b7a28a1c37ab97a81212
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAD' 'sip-files00160.jp2'
64ec206aa8a5a307d9aa197cd436d2da
976abb64b806812b51d9408525f61f08c5c7b4c5
'2011-11-14T22:22:36-05:00'
describe
'107219' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAE' 'sip-files00160.jpg'
e4a778499000002edba314c8ab77f290
89fb758c873d63843507040ac27549f808abfa6e
describe
'46545' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAF' 'sip-files00160.pro'
e7551623ea2efbf2bd3e2be3d1c7bc84
0d3530fe2f427d8c1c4fa7d4b722a45f6cbd48d5
describe
'37492' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAG' 'sip-files00160.QC.jpg'
88377438c9562d1d47328ce19ce63172
2bfb8515d9ec83d755bcfd89433184a9c5237f59
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAH' 'sip-files00160.tif'
5eb72a8a8f0a1f2d2e654745a42bd813
499815a481e342e3abbfade5ebd82dd231ee24cf
'2011-11-14T22:26:07-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAI' 'sip-files00160.txt'
11d115bbb10138f6021daec674bfdbcb
d3ac1bf50b72ac60b97d2eaf560786406e7d0b56
describe
'9899' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAJ' 'sip-files00160thm.jpg'
f236dc176b78908f2e421a018c6d2d7d
93b1e2db18872076c3d297d3f93ac7e98d64d25f
describe
'1030350' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAK' 'sip-files00161.jp2'
41a564d17efbcc8171123fdc532230a8
511b4abad1cb4b853a46d1cbf4656ec0513667f3
describe
'104007' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAL' 'sip-files00161.jpg'
51223b914d4bf777f062a3a2a408170e
8313a7ba04b42dc048972771e96a70a76cca7e04
describe
'46195' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAM' 'sip-files00161.pro'
f75fd2b28cbff19756668f0843df8f64
01a9e3b070ed63b57aa08876c26b20ef69f40b97
describe
'37057' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAN' 'sip-files00161.QC.jpg'
f23bd9f204bfb846775046d17257d5ef
6f8e293e7b38c13b35461f71ef578239e75fdb92
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAO' 'sip-files00161.tif'
eb4add3c99bfff473a63905aec8b2fc8
9e5692d4c450b0ab2d239b8a336d510f6060e2cf
'2011-11-14T22:22:19-05:00'
describe
'1920' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAP' 'sip-files00161.txt'
7464c6d84b9042f509433fcd35675b2e
29a26c4ddb62fc387738787e011f234e60b29c3f
describe
'9757' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAQ' 'sip-files00161thm.jpg'
1af6dee0ef7c3235f1902d7dd21f6f72
18a42c6964d7360fd83786128d61088bfbd35fca
describe
'1017226' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAR' 'sip-files00162.jp2'
15c209430f60cd6a39b64d119de45ad7
1dbac4edd43daaae7c93bebae49e81dbc8e67fdb
describe
'108652' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAS' 'sip-files00162.jpg'
177a3a583a0ac621f51c83cd540ca9a6
d4d8ae2a6b28b52c345f95a5405144e2863f36bb
describe
'46844' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAT' 'sip-files00162.pro'
34ab208d7cda093f10849036c3592702
d18cd0eee728643742f9901447af125ef2869a9c
describe
'37800' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAU' 'sip-files00162.QC.jpg'
42b7d51b962b08e9d4a163c12112cb56
122cbfe551309e5f2c0973d2a330c02ce329d415
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAV' 'sip-files00162.tif'
13c992057062d6aef978b9b565ade659
b60593db9ae7b4e204b5f9f8e95a0ac8910a5be0
describe
'1959' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAW' 'sip-files00162.txt'
871b3bd039c26420571a10c6cd36fc49
6164006bb76e8cac46600b55335b88e43fcb22fe
describe
'10244' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAX' 'sip-files00162thm.jpg'
d5dc92a2179563b9c280bfde1720f870
ae9e8186f39602a61238bbd24f6e4089b1524963
describe
'980501' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAY' 'sip-files00163.jp2'
e47e70df7b041a1d350ffb58f71d33bd
1cdd3527b3b2c8785bfd9f4b145275e2bde9f7c1
describe
'104370' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALAZ' 'sip-files00163.jpg'
b8839e84eb754ba6280c47821a08565c
5506c587b385c40fd2f6295eeb11282a912879b9
describe
'45781' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBA' 'sip-files00163.pro'
e5d1e9feed884211ecbd0ca02088f20a
71387ecb132d0d9028432d98e59e027561786621
describe
'37586' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBB' 'sip-files00163.QC.jpg'
fe55f11ac9fd1553ccd28016a9a709a0
aa9b1c381ba4f39bd4cf075f68556070f8f75930
describe
'7853847' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBC' 'sip-files00163.tif'
a4a43dc8a8d526a5ba5b83ddeea5eff6
8f43f326e0feb138709d4f1eb501f5059795dbac
'2011-11-14T22:24:29-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBD' 'sip-files00163.txt'
7080247e40d238bfcefb498ce581c78e
148bf07b65fe1ded19308838c1c14b4b411f1701
describe
'10925' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBE' 'sip-files00163thm.jpg'
5d5d652c33d3b532e37817fa845e372a
b5bc02b075020036ef26d4e65aa65d456eee9de0
describe
'1017274' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBF' 'sip-files00164.jp2'
a82ccb39cc18a915c7fabe733cf8a99a
9b3bd5add5a3afa2a77af41518657645167e2791
describe
'101612' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBG' 'sip-files00164.jpg'
f4b0e515c50686a33b1de0c9920b23b9
f0df5eef1d82a7de6bf0d35e68c1a96d548a6979
describe
'44653' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBH' 'sip-files00164.pro'
80670566e955deb1468eacd3654da9ea
06a1074ab3fe44b6f5992251291184773f466cda
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBI' 'sip-files00164.QC.jpg'
a658bf0514ce5c89f22a0c052cb2f11f
263b4cd7063d911106a1425363b19b191bf4239d
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBJ' 'sip-files00164.tif'
4d3602e9338ca918adca9434d17b9513
47fc8ad89802438e6c5e09163ca0563debdea84a
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBK' 'sip-files00164.txt'
a6a8e508038f8d25fd9813d5e77348f8
79fce6e36b656abceb2f71a1e6e7099c1dc90111
describe
'9300' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBL' 'sip-files00164thm.jpg'
051581b2d5a376fdbfaef93840ce8f48
b5bcd585ef7e529efee73c4a4bee70df04c99ab2
describe
'1007520' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBM' 'sip-files00165.jp2'
93162440e0b3fe75205666b7939bff39
8ff7773535424376a96b6e1c6cdd27c41af7481e
describe
'97723' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBN' 'sip-files00165.jpg'
e46679ee1696e093415bac24f7c1b607
6899007a569931105cbc3b8bd8d38c2fa8080c03
describe
'42857' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBO' 'sip-files00165.pro'
fac8db1e83a2cf9b2c6ccf8123cf1ee2
c71b3980ec02c31ff53c4735c0f68da6594149a0
describe
'34196' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBP' 'sip-files00165.QC.jpg'
5c0b8441338eadf927f5682ad196cdec
51c0125657a578746a47074871c16f3d11439f39
describe
'8069501' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBQ' 'sip-files00165.tif'
ef33715a44ded11d344ffcf5c7977438
fecee5e023ef42d67861f3b9ba4f125f27432105
describe
'1806' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBR' 'sip-files00165.txt'
21cd2763d2369cb1cb39295a0c46527a
a3177258845fcb5bb471cee4a9f18ba3e51ad812
describe
'9957' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBS' 'sip-files00165thm.jpg'
1ffd54b3ab10c8911afe7dd159c9ba37
958608b0af5483fc81d6b1a6ae3297d0a187c40a
describe
'1001668' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBT' 'sip-files00166.jp2'
038271286b3714cfb7cdd2fb5b69edfa
23abc06a8c72edaa8c62dc42096eed34ac54dfd1
describe
'83916' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBU' 'sip-files00166.jpg'
9bf42ebb1349722b4d1138653c917872
77b8c66e571a53fe3a523ffba5229e2a0870077c
describe
'34276' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBV' 'sip-files00166.pro'
d0bef6d2df51200aceebcdcfa2841cdc
671590bea061aa35abec74ca8fb15345864a533a
describe
'29184' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBW' 'sip-files00166.QC.jpg'
667b7b961a226c17e1bbcc24bec1d8f2
f4cfa4c944f2579a85bccf5a644c1eee0f0fa296
describe
'8022717' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBX' 'sip-files00166.tif'
b93646303e5a1b0a34ff1bd1af46d647
fad8478cfbf885b3cbef35c78a0367e240cd21b3
'2011-11-14T22:22:13-05:00'
describe
'1496' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBY' 'sip-files00166.txt'
c875f2b40a925c5ea64a3d6e9d4148e9
99db8459309bbf41933c78d8f1c83b4c06285977
describe
'7927' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALBZ' 'sip-files00166thm.jpg'
04ecd64ef7d293d7d643f1049b8bbfab
de623f033e32cc71f7cc4a50f52ec17793a793c6
describe
'1007517' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCA' 'sip-files00167.jp2'
4d02586188babdb9d77fdbab50203466
39d1202d937eb5474bed0ced8928aa403d455690
describe
'108187' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCB' 'sip-files00167.jpg'
8b26f67c1766599ce0bbc583fac2964e
825740ddf555a04600844f3a98149ff80eac506e
describe
'46930' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCC' 'sip-files00167.pro'
1e69c7cf7120b9e30d23103660edaa40
3b34267b15514b29f3789bc6a3535f490b4c4ebe
describe
'38150' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCD' 'sip-files00167.QC.jpg'
ee002ca30de2ca9be91451ad8a4f999c
d889f0be5051ffd52b07fdfeb2994d01f366fb2c
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCE' 'sip-files00167.tif'
8e0f811c7dfafe72649ba8867b5f67b2
a900d4a182fe9440f53d2ea23fe13c811a75a393
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCF' 'sip-files00167.txt'
c6ab76f322d75d04c54eaa6bc8d0aa89
75e4877833d36e9900090628a650c19f3f354115
describe
'11076' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCG' 'sip-files00167thm.jpg'
0a7556935ca089b9e79242cfaf6586fb
47709e67a0e1ccded561a0a4960566b8270b33b9
describe
'1001667' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCH' 'sip-files00168.jp2'
91cf44531f74300042dd1bb5457b82b8
c1e5f07a968a2c9bb04c9f2c9c18af964b21dd8b
describe
'106307' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCI' 'sip-files00168.jpg'
4aaf321a52b752dbc5281762ef4a544a
ce2bca70b6c2133a3ae50ebae7677fd8494ac9cb
describe
'44734' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCJ' 'sip-files00168.pro'
ca69d9888f4ac1eac9c0329ebe03d8f0
dcca7b8ba93452a349b15946e0b9add3ce943301
describe
'37834' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCK' 'sip-files00168.QC.jpg'
cd0f518ec4145f4c67fe086a6697be6e
54b758f82ed929890e4347719155e2d751417243
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCL' 'sip-files00168.tif'
060cf394a6bc8d58bdde06812f0783d7
718ba376679c5fa750d40f89e867f13813ffa620
'2011-11-14T22:21:43-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCM' 'sip-files00168.txt'
38b111a788be7c16fe26d26e1c676893
f7b9229143cf0655fd830c7419af9eb91c9016df
'2011-11-14T22:25:43-05:00'
describe
'9937' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCN' 'sip-files00168thm.jpg'
dbf21cbb32d1d5f323d181eb66f98d70
d90cf8294ec7b4efdb18d2f8ad40d6149f535944
describe
'1007524' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCO' 'sip-files00169.jp2'
e42ba4e41bd15933381b202c866103b6
a513b73de928208f046be5ebe23bc962d8d80819
describe
'105719' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCP' 'sip-files00169.jpg'
841f5ca8233e6a6bb11927d15486e703
4e98e853585b806fd7dd58bcab7fe49c715da2fd
describe
'46918' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCQ' 'sip-files00169.pro'
9d0b4aa9f9f36dc29defb46027acdb4a
a55dd8db8a0eff01547174e4cc130efd98a831b3
describe
'37674' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCR' 'sip-files00169.QC.jpg'
7b086cd62cfea6d99641596511e06adb
728a0d6f07b6fbfdef8b3c0ff2ea4f256e8a182f
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCS' 'sip-files00169.tif'
27c584e39f9e550d2db774b3f98f1906
2a5e9504d11f7a1ea21081b133df985236978b2e
describe
'1953' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCT' 'sip-files00169.txt'
e3c768b911714c6e887850824177a55d
76afa040b21b26b129e60f129311573b5da34da7
describe
'10891' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCU' 'sip-files00169thm.jpg'
325fad1c7db41467d310ca0fb4446035
f057285b3c077d5d16cedb35d377691e560d635f
describe
'1001685' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCV' 'sip-files00170.jp2'
f75a4a37e8a9a14aa73286a74b977fa7
f705f8e47bab64c71bc437ef0ccbd911d7dfea34
describe
'103612' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCW' 'sip-files00170.jpg'
ae383191d7182a367f813c28993ec760
e447a5dc7441245f49c8e9de787afb82bcf261c6
describe
'45703' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCX' 'sip-files00170.pro'
bd2daa5ea6f747da9ed43689562d37be
6b6bfadc51efceee61be21e34fb40a247402f870
describe
'36011' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCY' 'sip-files00170.QC.jpg'
e5ab079c2742fe8015b0dc07424c4745
d16ca640b896f22e27d26af106735094cf9dc95e
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALCZ' 'sip-files00170.tif'
89184630bb99f9d7277dcec9f2e4b939
1871ecd2eabb1b8a819c1dfc76842a21d3473976
'2011-11-14T22:25:16-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDA' 'sip-files00170.txt'
bec4bef4a926d8e805c8d2fc93c9a3bf
f896cd90e3a0bd86a53a74bbf021d98016bfd2e5
describe
'9322' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDB' 'sip-files00170thm.jpg'
4365a09382e221c77d38a3d9f34c5d9e
091a2373796c518a9b11ddd80a6682f5b9edff9f
describe
'1098283' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDC' 'sip-files00171.jp2'
9beef6533efec9bd67240991157e68ed
b570b98633d4cc035b899f5683e5fcc7f2e42247
describe
'102714' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDD' 'sip-files00171.jpg'
8a807e79040ed1a7ed18e1aa637be673
adc9aace1a482b1f2272764f65b7070e0a288d5d
describe
'46713' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDE' 'sip-files00171.pro'
5b48b31c6d0acb02341729876f3387be
8b19cedaa42dc0bff65b89f341466db19ae08682
describe
'35730' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDF' 'sip-files00171.QC.jpg'
00865cca72b7e5b8a33db389c90a9f8e
1258e7929dd58210dde7ca03a12f939f68fd59d1
describe
'8792037' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDG' 'sip-files00171.tif'
a45735f4a3e36344c6d1e4962262cae1
f4581f1329edfb2787df1f1c02fa5e51b5b000aa
describe
'1933' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDH' 'sip-files00171.txt'
5ffd2c62f028da5fa64a13e44694b123
b134b3bf8d8a7e8175a08d9740c0ffeab1897b06
describe
'8731' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDI' 'sip-files00171thm.jpg'
60523ad7aac7f3e84e00854991806cf7
872f6bfc10d8f8e6a03ec57d7e5face3a9d1ac07
describe
'1009859' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDJ' 'sip-files00172.jp2'
3fa23ed1ad56e3456887b1ea6d61a597
215c6e2b5330e522f86b8c2e20b696654d138861
describe
'56471' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDK' 'sip-files00172.jpg'
31fceec8113693c843728b2390315012
3c84e55643e4cd2a5bdb98ed317a6f7383e7923f
describe
'24064' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDL' 'sip-files00172.pro'
26c9d30f68b983d29d513a652c1d118d
20b40cbacee840308c189f3a12e78ba4cefe69b9
describe
'18500' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDM' 'sip-files00172.QC.jpg'
4f412f5fc6cbd88dd3b026f8b51d87cc
3ba03fc850554ae78adbaa4fb4b53d32dfbbf8ba
describe
'8822555' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDN' 'sip-files00172.tif'
2786cc78b1e3eac11899f507661695c7
6c107875981ff7a74e9cb466359f78def9a43547
'2011-11-14T22:24:52-05:00'
describe
'1111' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDO' 'sip-files00172.txt'
f3b8e8bf8ddbf211971f89428ecb276e
9f8eea2912d0cfe40bc02b46dd70404192e61051
describe
'5049' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDP' 'sip-files00172thm.jpg'
88bace4101bbcbbb945802b733c60e32
684dd94ae1f24f1e8d54ec498017570fc98fe9f7
describe
'968906' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDQ' 'sip-files00173.jp2'
d45069941f397755705d556410993030
a4bd7bd45a2e97c08383135cee4280a5555cf429
describe
'87128' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDR' 'sip-files00173.jpg'
68f9de6495a56e6c19b71db6fe5a0696
ca83a949163a26c2c4619f198e43ba4b44e44bbc
describe
'39607' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDS' 'sip-files00173.pro'
081e60bec10e0da7521134a12911c70f
b83e34a0dd7c4829511e791dfee6342ac840bb98
describe
'30688' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDT' 'sip-files00173.QC.jpg'
f243c974c23ed5ddfa6e4f197143de40
d59353ad548a988c0ede4e1b98343c1eeeee5faf
describe
'7760603' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDU' 'sip-files00173.tif'
c67de051a1cd3132eb0e95f8aa376856
62b3376c47c15ea280495b96b97b08a92e91b870
describe
'1719' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDV' 'sip-files00173.txt'
905ecc9e7d97c41ba2bb67c5d49ec7ca
c8e776f4c753c6889e6d26ff8e1a4ddad1ab3a32
describe
'8559' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDW' 'sip-files00173thm.jpg'
9605ffb1e8f9ff4aec41a4b0a24138de
0ed5ff0c105ebc8d354a53d26f8ca5fe61539f53
describe
'1001670' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDX' 'sip-files00174.jp2'
7462beacce689e4e5a19d38c5049cfdc
0dd883fe93636243cc4567d4005820c52a229806
describe
'99668' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDY' 'sip-files00174.jpg'
149d288c184ff925b45f262127c9bafc
b73179c8a7682320a2021065d45cfe362527bde5
describe
'42274' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALDZ' 'sip-files00174.pro'
676d6440b56ddfa49df4fe3232ab3b3f
3144a6dfa62f09ff9f7d6e3c6204aff46968fcb3
describe
'35312' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEA' 'sip-files00174.QC.jpg'
a6585877c8341bcc590d567fadb49d5a
5e0f6dceb5bb87c73a26ec42940ecdff43f0b5a8
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEB' 'sip-files00174.tif'
e07311bcec08cd53a50135489bad70c7
4daced916d1437296f824e296a72161d0779af61
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEC' 'sip-files00174.txt'
e634f4b33db50ba3820a1b752abb2310
3861b96b06530e43a33493beabf140345ae42de1
describe
'9474' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALED' 'sip-files00174thm.jpg'
9329aeef2bf1de21f7150735f32bd48f
09414e023b11c3d0ff254b51ed502ef09e9e30b3
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEE' 'sip-files00175.jp2'
495a28dfe8b2948e2c3d5ca9fdc8cb4e
b1d1d3d3c24dad74de1b4e24457235a938863b4e
describe
'93468' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEF' 'sip-files00175.jpg'
c390531322a721a1be1f3c1ac5c6a375
37ff5683fc872893c662521c16b660aa6ca78aa2
describe
'41306' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEG' 'sip-files00175.pro'
a1c7c4a03f2d74aeae9afd6a0a212c0a
229bb0fd9703479fdcedea0737d1bc490c19fae5
describe
'33067' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEH' 'sip-files00175.QC.jpg'
b151ccc0568a80a1fd22d88107babcd9
26ae0ebab3256e89bd673bdbc1a2c07b05415418
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEI' 'sip-files00175.tif'
a352d2f204d7f2eb4f262defdd4c31c6
3051495c34ace6d7eab2b11442e66d2e7cfde2b5
describe
'1888' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEJ' 'sip-files00175.txt'
b8d3b2d858f85f8cc13e9f8f52e1b8f0
aca8e60f90e9c966d301297128b0331936aae1be
describe
'9799' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEK' 'sip-files00175thm.jpg'
b3c77d6b0740481a8091b4636c7e7262
ac2653a67813048b80b9eee2865b1325c9a78baf
describe
'1001583' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEL' 'sip-files00176.jp2'
350dfaa2158bca14a14c2761646aff82
d09fbcfed35232dff87fd60f236cf11597213020
describe
'86954' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEM' 'sip-files00176.jpg'
092bd9375b6a7cd8158e29ac3822a9e2
3324c0f129a7e4f39755b73fb1c2469f9e5f8f7a
describe
'38903' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEN' 'sip-files00176.pro'
41da66ec4a3f52774d03139c6643ae8e
b8062016b6db1661edea7ccffab2940651708e20
describe
'29815' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEO' 'sip-files00176.QC.jpg'
2a9810ccdb4c8472155886cf8fcbd8a3
0495afeb4ec46377940c4c4f7b5bc2aef75bd927
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEP' 'sip-files00176.tif'
fab3a284abef83a35b4933a2b9355bbf
106646e59d9935f80fe14475ce067976229fa5a2
describe
'1843' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEQ' 'sip-files00176.txt'
c41867fda6ecf3aa66da2eca84789a8a
08603a1df6f6c32bee0e6e45aebce8c0f76463b1
describe
'7834' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALER' 'sip-files00176thm.jpg'
43b0eba9efcf61dcb95433f33cb440e6
1d8bd6410fd1a1bd6cf9e32b3e3ed654bfe09be1
describe
'1007508' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALES' 'sip-files00177.jp2'
d5a3f464b02aca12ccacbac8193d5ada
47f5ed2265308a81a43b841289ac6f0970b30240
describe
'91641' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALET' 'sip-files00177.jpg'
26effff23f9c8e7d17c1fb3fad5bc073
153b5f97ecb7bcd6af0548f907e063e97f0a634a
describe
'39810' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEU' 'sip-files00177.pro'
cbb89c43c345b8cd6fa421aa7725b3d4
84331c8e3626c215f62d8c5a5d1273b1ed350d41
describe
'32513' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEV' 'sip-files00177.QC.jpg'
e4517ff31f48a4bcbc5af35ce4ccfa4d
5e616a0863ff204b3f2c4a9b85da533855022753
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEW' 'sip-files00177.tif'
16d87c4b222c9cda6888a405ed663a2a
5b14b0966430cc75cd955eb9f37f1bdc33b01ecb
describe
'1751' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEX' 'sip-files00177.txt'
5d6be9035f8d77e1345ef724ccee0862
0c3321af6bc80b941c6de9c08bf2158df7239c7e
describe
'9846' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEY' 'sip-files00177thm.jpg'
a0fba26324b20a42d63a2a8d97f556a1
ff3a75d871183bc289c1957e84d7abd606c17f0c
describe
'963413' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALEZ' 'sip-files00178.jp2'
0cd5bb8a3e76630e63f1a75066b0e1bd
13f83c6fa040247303a4d9ce455804d609fd9ab1
describe
'61632' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFA' 'sip-files00178.jpg'
baa9c1f448e5091a3c517c18e0e6437a
0df94dc5bfad3ce1926bdbc7bf9a10b3d439c3f3
describe
'23928' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFB' 'sip-files00178.pro'
c5b592590dfd4c04fd007e0ca5c18699
aeaa32ead255192a84b7a7ccb8c69ed1978d21e1
describe
'21190' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFC' 'sip-files00178.QC.jpg'
d95c07d8795e8aa4cafcc06a8d46d86c
c6bb109464f25ada473c5f49a0af5a92e40d987e
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFD' 'sip-files00178.tif'
087d547d33d7725a4af7d792dd6be171
6fc5f624fca1457109a434b634a335a23df0d5a3
describe
'1257' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFE' 'sip-files00178.txt'
34c18f37709ed416c8c7970b0bd81551
7a059be8d90a913c9bdd626886ca2f825a3b9ba7
'2011-11-14T22:20:04-05:00'
describe
'6032' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFF' 'sip-files00178thm.jpg'
022162d19ea0ed726a0454a41f206364
ba6aa5d8a6384f5f349a513183e34e056768c1fb
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFG' 'sip-files00179.jp2'
155f07cdba1fefd036d197257790888a
87668d995275c97c25952210ac5eddc22a04c025
describe
'84139' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFH' 'sip-files00179.jpg'
967ee14dcf7842c0b904308a07ff2475
db2c6def8a8c9c24f8cebbe872cac3baef96c2a8
describe
'36849' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFI' 'sip-files00179.pro'
3d56a3f1494b06b776b1a797984ae177
f9b8151e8bc2fa1620d96e9fbde0f4068ae7e1e0
describe
'29891' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFJ' 'sip-files00179.QC.jpg'
0e044cfaab96611dc688c6f8493938a0
6ba7d15158f546f5b090afe9b8b7d29425648766
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFK' 'sip-files00179.tif'
c61746c4ebb8539fa290909f5eef1392
cee951420b204c917b2c9f98bbb7775d244463a6
describe
'1583' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFL' 'sip-files00179.txt'
8a350bd2510ed6fd1bc98c1391c6a7fe
3e3c90c0bcab2d25bdb92b1149f77c4511e2a489
describe
'9013' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFM' 'sip-files00179thm.jpg'
7ba8ac02a45519703fec77f282e1a04a
f93e9e23fe198a1f93638dbba34fe4afd3e25b71
describe
'1001673' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFN' 'sip-files00180.jp2'
aafb11634f5e31bb970dc3ce8f85abf9
64fadc90c736d5317871a255922cc62baf226de0
describe
'113057' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFO' 'sip-files00180.jpg'
094482337fcf920f8909cfa0a50c7824
d5fcb1e3d6d4f5e2034b5a89bf8ff21e476eaaf4
describe
'46572' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFP' 'sip-files00180.pro'
866565394a26eb87b66d781c33ec0431
355dbffb12cc0a7021f14298119ccdc515a819b3
describe
'39980' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFQ' 'sip-files00180.QC.jpg'
fc293ae9fe57ac23cf8df861c404b782
a74b158e842e11bed6cd400fe6d4d0a8a2b031db
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFR' 'sip-files00180.tif'
befaf21075023d15918ec3d9ae068e67
0f55aff1014ada09cfb72dd494706c711ae19269
'2011-11-14T22:26:43-05:00'
describe
'1964' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFS' 'sip-files00180.txt'
aa2e6c600253a8e19fdb2c3f6f622c71
fe4c2fc50c837175e7786493d7d3c208717700aa
describe
'10361' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFT' 'sip-files00180thm.jpg'
e014e418c4be92f061df872e012dc980
5c38bbe098b48a3e66b1655ba293a5218854aa22
describe
'1007467' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFU' 'sip-files00181.jp2'
ac1968b8ac9b20ae55b55fd17c1dbd02
4639256e9735aad53a3a0f2f062286763e58c000
describe
'107116' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFV' 'sip-files00181.jpg'
86ba906f81129f6eba6e21ee5cabdb77
47e242cf76326d45ef4c14a7683d00d5be2e2a45
describe
'45958' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFW' 'sip-files00181.pro'
3c279e4b01e553981b5705bf48a0dc3e
5ed628acff6b60b146724e3b0a9ccf4f4a5b4ea7
describe
'38701' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFX' 'sip-files00181.QC.jpg'
05f017b13ea6e839f8a3d29290015563
7dec15e068098e8da789f6f87ab66d1fefa27fc1
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFY' 'sip-files00181.tif'
2a8a2dd1dca3536ff26b11def3c3a648
d3b373f6793d24e1a0b6a580df638975f3a5da12
'2011-11-14T22:25:03-05:00'
describe
'1917' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALFZ' 'sip-files00181.txt'
31dc672cf0d4602bb7dfde3c54e98410
13f18118bbaf8499c8495f15cbb9d0f3c5f0b250
describe
'11285' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGA' 'sip-files00181thm.jpg'
e0fd6b8322dfa0e828989ae3f844ec61
3c32a54055efc0873e1c9a584ed285098c21dfd9
describe
'1001684' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGB' 'sip-files00182.jp2'
7f1462a8c02a076266e4bb0417baf204
13014c2953bcfcc898bf8c7401dc1ca20704841b
describe
'114680' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGC' 'sip-files00182.jpg'
29202b128e6a7cf620a08fd98198bb60
985776b6d0d780639331817e5c3603b07cf6f80a
describe
'46953' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGD' 'sip-files00182.pro'
2e1db25168b69d2d9c1b99df873063bf
0c712fc8c80051c7161c2696b069f886a5f93c27
describe
'41375' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGE' 'sip-files00182.QC.jpg'
4ff45c862a94f16fee16843745fa0bf6
98d4b575e8d0531d977df1c528fa8338ffe3c949
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGF' 'sip-files00182.tif'
ded7276bb33e4d4c4bdeae2dc4afa0ba
71a93d820411f8e84b6cbc0b8d954ae7aa6e5b6e
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGG' 'sip-files00182.txt'
ed023ccce64ea8d11511eee4e87fe381
44b6a5ef1402563cf2fb5852fb128ec1dbeadfcb
describe
'10746' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGH' 'sip-files00182thm.jpg'
507d15ce7cc117afa8f6ec542e102531
c9dec0de5ae90e882207768108b1617c19bbdc14
describe
'1007355' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGI' 'sip-files00183.jp2'
d213c64feba33e6ab6f4fb33159ab40c
34ec1dd6f9c5ce29c10af5807489280805c355c4
describe
'108701' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGJ' 'sip-files00183.jpg'
819a3e398b59f94e4848f5325ed69252
3b6b6841842885321b4911ab28fe15ebe48d0a35
describe
'46505' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGK' 'sip-files00183.pro'
12811486a77b141225c7d0a590236bb2
83a9b3953a0a913522ad306cc36c458734aa4c0a
describe
'38627' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGL' 'sip-files00183.QC.jpg'
9291b5d4abc322186ddca4b0f3988321
cdb46d4e5683847209268b1979f99795c4ea372c
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGM' 'sip-files00183.tif'
edda0101c263fbafe1f31680f5409a36
94d2a4687826cd3857c49e6269730eb2719dc2e9
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGN' 'sip-files00183.txt'
934e7103e4ee312997d4bfd7329ec1d1
88ed33dacdf2637e29d5e6ccc81537012ee10e6b
describe
'11291' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGO' 'sip-files00183thm.jpg'
18927cff89d3aaaabcdaaf1fb396646c
33f747ffd12bbbe5f394791a62631831bb66de7a
describe
'1001641' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGP' 'sip-files00184.jp2'
d010390cac219c1c1cb8e305a8d04d77
89a4efd20fbcbcc22f1b6a52417815e1edd1db59
describe
'112549' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGQ' 'sip-files00184.jpg'
a6d16572aabeb2cec5e87f35d108f0b2
bbc9d24cc5db9de22faca1490c4a119d2ecfd986
describe
'46522' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGR' 'sip-files00184.pro'
cceec4515e97903506093b0ef716c159
b09292fbd7e4323dec4091b79d21ede078dfc3be
describe
'39972' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGS' 'sip-files00184.QC.jpg'
1469bc37e23a136c832a3db5f23794d8
7704973b7ab9d25fcaf652ccf2f373bbff044bf2
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGT' 'sip-files00184.tif'
b5aa2887e4bfa89fe49794acf3fec06d
8d832a165ac10c1888d64d4080930f31e825397c
'2011-11-14T22:27:22-05:00'
describe
'1971' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGU' 'sip-files00184.txt'
ca90969d05878bba69b35c3fec3b7a24
42d8b07dd2cd964048e6940650bd9316a069d379
describe
'10465' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGV' 'sip-files00184thm.jpg'
5f0927310020d457b96b0a8f9ca71174
2296b8e59137d8e07b5c0f332fce52162a6a7277
describe
'1007401' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGW' 'sip-files00185.jp2'
73dac6e5bd52a4233800b3a6c0ce542a
86801c038066df62bbad2906b35a228e23746c59
describe
'109672' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGX' 'sip-files00185.jpg'
9ac14add24df56a8d7c4461b6db22a0e
a2e4ba697f175d9964bb33cc12b1834566ee4ab7
describe
'46872' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGY' 'sip-files00185.pro'
0f1ec67143e923b697800c091273dfe7
d4aa5c8262fd6d6f5c1e549fac73712cd4fd2cbb
describe
'39563' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALGZ' 'sip-files00185.QC.jpg'
eb96db61e65a551be6cb3d1b1dafa628
cdc60f67bcf9d9ac420255aacf3e7c297e698ce6
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHA' 'sip-files00185.tif'
c78a6d2ed5056d8f3016f57f6530a6f8
4811cd39681819063f5facda827620606b6d17b8
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHB' 'sip-files00185.txt'
9374fc642848932220b41b874254e4c9
993aab773c6d9d95e6112a03ed7f73a69032858b
describe
'11630' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHC' 'sip-files00185thm.jpg'
50883db6ebbd18ccfa80d0a5dcdd2d2c
6af538eb34f103a5310e462fa857e81c5945ec91
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHD' 'sip-files00186.jp2'
dcd70e78c4513cb05a398f3f447aecba
87ca02a507d43eea966af76368af91e5692560bc
describe
'81733' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHE' 'sip-files00186.jpg'
3516d19221dd892fbb043abb34c73c64
ed8d060304bee0c11e93db597a78f60522bf580d
describe
'35493' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHF' 'sip-files00186.pro'
a737cf96018fb1bcc8bf0f29e8da217a
dfcdcc4ad8245bfe849ecb3c3f1a160ea858f256
describe
'28338' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHG' 'sip-files00186.QC.jpg'
83b27cfd4667d7615499f060362d892a
a417a03e9b3de7eff2e4d1853caf43955a430141
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHH' 'sip-files00186.tif'
836480779f4d4acce404a2fd9a486143
8550104f66b0c6be964a5284b4c134541c308bf8
describe
'1611' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHI' 'sip-files00186.txt'
6506c8043ffbec5de2a87dcf0d181139
b743ae4e1d547039be71073eb645d39c64f6534f
describe
'7581' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHJ' 'sip-files00186thm.jpg'
a268bf94e1f9bffb4f1c30ef12baa9f5
d29d8dff63ccfb951d5cd1180ba832c5ee18077b
describe
'1007448' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHK' 'sip-files00187.jp2'
45bcd726b65149d993b5871de4f77987
701cb1c56e57d7127e3bc8e55b9a950b2289c603
describe
'111386' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHL' 'sip-files00187.jpg'
a60ddf878c45d065d4c480f6dbb99c7b
4f6f9de6c39c54a02b776c3411a8e782b0a47083
describe
'48395' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHM' 'sip-files00187.pro'
4238a7ed5fe43c56259803f33627700d
7ad85dc3b344106b7562c5394de22e47390be0a6
describe
'39634' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHN' 'sip-files00187.QC.jpg'
7f2b834133a47f5cfae483d5574a3282
26f1ee91e9da41fd7825fc7b1454e1b9e75438eb
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHO' 'sip-files00187.tif'
fd09dab25d5467da613b4bb829dd1e28
e37e74cc5a1b3b1b2d6e5c42934365a41046d48e
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHP' 'sip-files00187.txt'
86e98151535aa7755bf25413bba80905
11f246d902d9d700958b16cfbd012f5379ca4505
describe
'11271' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHQ' 'sip-files00187thm.jpg'
957d44eb54b316a88bb6546252acde46
9cfd2201fd2b263b47997348d7e4e9701dadac5e
describe
'1001549' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHR' 'sip-files00188.jp2'
2ff8e0c4a0f1d72111e6cfa9c3e4ac7d
bc4e2362888d0270201bcdeb9226b1b22ff82061
describe
'105403' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHS' 'sip-files00188.jpg'
e92d36d3e141cd52c03924de8ec050dd
4dc562fd986921aa81a948a58f1dca06a4c250a9
describe
'45217' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHT' 'sip-files00188.pro'
89b453d7ae225cc0e0d46c8c98b3fdeb
bdc8e6c2c40e1ca215fd09aa0ffe3185f7b54b86
describe
'37270' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHU' 'sip-files00188.QC.jpg'
dd9d72fe5d513bc92dc6175bca141a3f
99b9a8c74bfdc956445af359790df4aebbb7d2ed
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHV' 'sip-files00188.tif'
afa96ab8474b81f179965319ae33f4dc
def6282f41f761808cbc0b90956abb4c59d9c0c5
describe
'1934' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHW' 'sip-files00188.txt'
5293e041771dfdfdd2e34ab46a0c0a45
ae359c14d1b7d5900adf6467a3003005011788ba
describe
'9497' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHX' 'sip-files00188thm.jpg'
c5d68a349d28de3ca7f0e61654a567ad
70c4f197cae0c9cf199d09b7b75c26880b493649
describe
'1007519' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHY' 'sip-files00189.jp2'
89f446f8e23e36897801baf49ce9ce5c
7b38031eebac4d68c9199036048fc12bd866bd58
describe
'98395' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALHZ' 'sip-files00189.jpg'
6dbe73c563aae2a3e81d49796ac98a5e
3aa6d690bfd3620fd6fcf3b55b445a84e0d2d909
describe
'43045' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIA' 'sip-files00189.pro'
5d38fc47e4f7a94a937b37a49fe65489
8fc9981683db554a6ef1195362ca1fbc7b4db7ca
describe
'35464' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIB' 'sip-files00189.QC.jpg'
a6439766ae6e31aa6a52a624d951c15f
079896d460e7ef5079dd88e4d8a5d8ed2e873796
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIC' 'sip-files00189.tif'
0d437ec5ca978567531c3a5579ae2a40
7c35d191e159a9297f84b2224c4b152dee8e2f20
describe
'1855' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALID' 'sip-files00189.txt'
864949c302a150404bb96e90d298df34
2a21f964f7ba3a6bc37dac501dc60693367250a5
describe
'10539' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIE' 'sip-files00189thm.jpg'
91264f326120357ab31bc6cd4962005b
fb179a96d2e24c5f650c2f455f8eb43ea390737f
describe
'1001683' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIF' 'sip-files00190.jp2'
63c6cf10f94bb11fae9fdcaa34c9605d
bd50ad2b2302aaa4062e347c856be0edfbce43e0
describe
'113344' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIG' 'sip-files00190.jpg'
f5d4a12974461a9ad35e57ff9b36e72b
f8c31ef3c8b724a2163391b442b0fae5ff110d34
describe
'49212' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIH' 'sip-files00190.pro'
4b317dcfcdd8e0e3858961c2d78cf0c3
eae391401ca0b48f9192ff477b7e3cdc2ae01b1b
describe
'40348' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALII' 'sip-files00190.QC.jpg'
4fa2ff59c217c0a8ac0af5516ada301f
5207fbc26bbd8d210598c35d8268128e16b7169e
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIJ' 'sip-files00190.tif'
32981a1865f8f6d49fa4489f8dd59eab
2a71d18a38e9d61d656b3cc3b87ebd9058f53444
describe
'2023' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIK' 'sip-files00190.txt'
41bc2f990ce5d4b3f605f2239756290d
87533dea90b37c3923173d69af35f11ab58f8303
describe
'10233' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIL' 'sip-files00190thm.jpg'
cfb0efedde800ea9261cb57183b3741e
888fd8c3658cd5988179ed8741c3c7b7884ed867
describe
'1007518' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIM' 'sip-files00191.jp2'
5be1431deccb1469fe9e525fdd16611a
05de8b4eccc27ac8c2fb30fcfd494484f1749657
describe
'97793' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIN' 'sip-files00191.jpg'
26df4aa1d19cd3bcd9e8323acf180056
58e6a6ce9d127141f7d6676ef4f5d781559da497
describe
'45308' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIO' 'sip-files00191.pro'
423856548d62bf546a1907f6ab1a5c46
4a6e9d1b0870594afb45ec423a2345d0b4487bec
describe
'33819' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIP' 'sip-files00191.QC.jpg'
2efa7f61cc178d1f2445a3f6fdc712bc
36626aa57ba3d5f34ff8757e01ac10cb12e37033
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIQ' 'sip-files00191.tif'
6220a105131a44c5c45b9207355baa81
bad75b70e09f2c8609ddf2d2d83c8e4948ed154b
describe
'1931' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIR' 'sip-files00191.txt'
07563610c95bc7ce5e8ba681f95cc17a
9cb2e50de6d37f8dbf9d4e11ad4a34486ed23b9d
describe
'9955' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIS' 'sip-files00191thm.jpg'
12eaac5cd1f81c90311325ad319a8fa2
b91cef8435f840a1e53844e383dcc4d9cc76c6a0
describe
'1001692' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIT' 'sip-files00192.jp2'
ce4da7074a9ec503cc6cb6ad86733dcf
156ff053a468c29d8effe6922d3cf60829c2d518
describe
'99319' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIU' 'sip-files00192.jpg'
3fdd8cbdd9517833a12b841c1d59afd2
7b28ae2e532096c53463486114fc9d56c268f698
describe
'43909' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIV' 'sip-files00192.pro'
160b0eb5915876e27070e31bd3b57a5a
f9250a33a1cc3f7813dbb24646616180703ebaf3
describe
'35038' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIW' 'sip-files00192.QC.jpg'
dca349115fc3d6f9191112fd6511ff67
c1cf6e8b5c3ba8744ce6278593eccd855825ec17
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIX' 'sip-files00192.tif'
b685211e1be518607814d3b9205ebd08
afb908b5ec9dbd9c9a146cd9681c5edc2ad1535c
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIY' 'sip-files00192.txt'
1c0fd15ca20a8af1d4b70637b0c4f703
c526f27fec7438dbd0204cf30d41390f22ca343f
describe
'9313' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALIZ' 'sip-files00192thm.jpg'
e676bf9e30778f3e180727210c71ff95
78cfb20c3c71bca81e56385cf2a4475147108574
describe
'710243' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJA' 'sip-files00193.jp2'
41756eae709d2846cce5c2e96371d463
f831bc67be736d0cf5e45438492ad9ca449f8353
describe
'32664' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJB' 'sip-files00193.jpg'
4473f0b8658724cc227f33ed43f339c6
e683907790a1354defd9ba8df91990bae3c65685
describe
'8545' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJC' 'sip-files00193.pro'
194a83c0517959c7d79d54fd32047c02
7539ecb7bbfe62477a62d4fdc7bb690fc19ea4a6
describe
'11443' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJD' 'sip-files00193.QC.jpg'
2665d767684cd9745af0280562eb178b
0708c8b0cbf3d2dfa9cff58dfd34d0c0c663e3b2
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJE' 'sip-files00193.tif'
4875b0ac055d8b7f4fad74e428093617
648e71c5cc799f836c5c8b39a27d3821333e8ffc
describe
'409' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJF' 'sip-files00193.txt'
59b5adb26ddbb70da65069bcb405af82
30ca7fb9fb357fa37fe55435543f0e285b44b052
describe
'3632' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJG' 'sip-files00193thm.jpg'
5fdc4532d2aa10e79f2799e5ef2911da
bb3834e52a1a5cda81e673f2b9a6f5da2a15c52f
describe
'1001678' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJH' 'sip-files00194.jp2'
01aea16a929dca4cefc511b5e2935d70
fcccdebdbfc07952571938b72948bb771f2967e4
describe
'83191' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJI' 'sip-files00194.jpg'
c15565bb06f78eb59a1c6c04c2f8fc21
e1ae26d12252d0d1d51b601680d0d809b397fb8d
describe
'34660' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJJ' 'sip-files00194.pro'
8774adfbb48534340fa9757bad11fc6b
77f2bd02c06638799e96887a29c65fd63741030d
describe
'29020' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJK' 'sip-files00194.QC.jpg'
1d1c6b70e10e686b61d3e9c78c32769b
27302b6345782a47e202f3b80dc090ea082a49cd
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJL' 'sip-files00194.tif'
d603dd694c06d92edacf6f4f1a1b1085
f5330a8e969e2575a7216fa5fe4a49f7beb35ec4
describe
'1498' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJM' 'sip-files00194.txt'
c4da689c3f7b9c7b8a9eaf99746fad95
0fbfa6b576fd8429e4897ab964ec4e88a3e996ed
describe
'7802' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJN' 'sip-files00194thm.jpg'
112b466235097886ed9bbec69488a98c
33754b9d0ced553bb1650991657e5103a5187c08
describe
'1007482' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJO' 'sip-files00195.jp2'
c3ccd30f537d758d4fa54117d87dff18
76e472c93416de7e6786b86b0e83b8fb407d808b
describe
'104677' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJP' 'sip-files00195.jpg'
58838b4ad02d8df686f6d886cf7153ef
d9c705f91d34d59af9a2754d2d17807f38771bf2
describe
'45517' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJQ' 'sip-files00195.pro'
286bbdf561879b59d9d5d5b8e9ed7e01
049037749304a53e33f3572316a1b90142c35e67
describe
'36892' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJR' 'sip-files00195.QC.jpg'
a9a0a73093e90f74b358e8758b3dac45
de566d2156416840986547d2b4448ba1101bed38
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJS' 'sip-files00195.tif'
e2a2492ab364c2e7decbcbfb2ce9acc9
5a63fcfd5b0231009da44fe682e04e98d4667d9c
describe
'1921' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJT' 'sip-files00195.txt'
2164a618741ad262a6609621a4505dbc
abfe36192827f274a9880f8dc1ac4ddbe723848c
describe
'10896' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJU' 'sip-files00195thm.jpg'
ec52b5afaee271a25fba958e544723a8
67a7bb9a033814c5b64e03d7f953e1d8e40b5b4d
describe
'1001677' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJV' 'sip-files00196.jp2'
3cbf3fc9c99214d146f5f4db1243dae4
57cd4ade59b4cace38dcbc151b92c25d3b972a3f
describe
'109502' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJW' 'sip-files00196.jpg'
f59cf848d320268be7cdd8797290cbd9
4aa407dd21e397cc8fb0bc8c72f4a5bd80919409
describe
'46744' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJX' 'sip-files00196.pro'
06cedb854f0a4305a5dbfdb22091bedb
756da30b4bc378c9fd4cc9229af75f02fc101933
describe
'38608' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJY' 'sip-files00196.QC.jpg'
73cd7907682f973797eb1d278b545463
57da6d8d02d5672a6fcc2ee19dbd9a666259f7a1
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALJZ' 'sip-files00196.tif'
d111280b970df73f43da49a4f79e6552
46a77d8d974f51405a73f846c0bb0fdf15cf543f
describe
'1950' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKA' 'sip-files00196.txt'
fbfe30eeaefc3ac0b881f1ba1a2b904b
fbc5333c1f40ccb2a24268fbc91a11fe8d66a657
describe
'9986' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKB' 'sip-files00196thm.jpg'
3bbac82860e324a3ee2a7bac7891d155
7f056cf5fd79210fb926cc1e28b8ede639f29521
describe
'1007523' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKC' 'sip-files00197.jp2'
ba54910abe63533d2ae8d6fbd3f75329
c38fbeebd941f92b923d3f0353f26b0655ff5acf
describe
'102682' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKD' 'sip-files00197.jpg'
a38fa2512f51f21a8cd08be727524563
037d7f00ab0dc03807e9d0d8a4533dd54a8fc8d3
describe
'44311' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKE' 'sip-files00197.pro'
0eb3dfa25a9db381e575d9c86d88603b
d985eec0fd09f6853f60223ddc2162d376dce33d
describe
'36516' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKF' 'sip-files00197.QC.jpg'
a4c74f7926d4eb56c9e28ecde81f83a4
0b0887d5f3a5a66009985d98dc53d868541b8981
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKG' 'sip-files00197.tif'
4ef94439441a05b7466f3e47e0a3de4b
0550fe2de0c964b0648744f5f9d4566be3899883
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKH' 'sip-files00197.txt'
38def2672c38d361e1486c779337d256
44776958da48ce8385d59c322fb9d3fc38328846
describe
'10766' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKI' 'sip-files00197thm.jpg'
06c168559435c4643370c7bf51b64d1e
b7103da31be5a95c114442fbf3f5307bdf6f7a15
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKJ' 'sip-files00198.jp2'
91de3dddba2fddf76e7040958bb4fc25
7bdb41b5a9a98d1135daf486eeb916bc2330d404
describe
'110400' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKK' 'sip-files00198.jpg'
da66e31c41c34ce4f6d12a8cda9b253d
979bfd3fc25a42ea39ff875cfb86b1b2e4ad6f6f
describe
'45540' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKL' 'sip-files00198.pro'
ca6f81db6d130573788c71d9e0938310
151140824c56bd9c2fe8d66dce53d4260e85c611
describe
'39659' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKM' 'sip-files00198.QC.jpg'
230c48bd85e38c282840fca435b37f76
4d3f138f79faaaf2678b5f0085d29159dc65c83f
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKN' 'sip-files00198.tif'
3def26f491777cb70e7ddf11587ddc23
06b7c3559b7e4f86bc0d2bb60800ae54275f3bc2
describe
'1909' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKO' 'sip-files00198.txt'
eb66248fcd2c359dcc942d6dd1cd9db4
eb0862ca067f397727015e093e892dd45729afc6
describe
'10270' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKP' 'sip-files00198thm.jpg'
1ae492dd74a093b4e88ef8858d67e8aa
8859eb59ddabc0a6569a9188c9a3f6c4fbb60f7d
describe
'1007453' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKQ' 'sip-files00199.jp2'
560021c22e0c2eb6ff9bac20c4fd2ee6
5bde08f00a463dabb2d6ecde71c6c782409ae332
describe
'108780' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKR' 'sip-files00199.jpg'
869d557ab204c16447c0e50b487c6b39
ff0781f7d77d57724f2a60798308f61c7ad0c6c5
describe
'47541' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKS' 'sip-files00199.pro'
e730893391c75dc1953344b5a36807fb
fdcb01727c652903bc9b95175652e912035651fe
describe
'38683' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKT' 'sip-files00199.QC.jpg'
b46f4d2b8f4194282c0e35d176bead95
405b8677c528826cfc2025923df43d5557b418c9
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKU' 'sip-files00199.tif'
a98502042ca635e6e7bdd9d374f8753c
f50b1f63bc9345e8246391a16e2557054ffc59ef
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKV' 'sip-files00199.txt'
3f36cab63718920c874ff655abe5efb1
c9f4ac52675e40a073c477adac4ec447e2c49cf6
describe
'11165' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKW' 'sip-files00199thm.jpg'
d29d12c74234f56c0c912cadd1ed7219
975761116c1918c5c651b833b5766c6d43938fe6
describe
'1001687' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKX' 'sip-files00200.jp2'
4b8efe6ec9189e0b37a440aa4a714a3f
fe42de6d3a8f78c97e2b203163e4981e78cab8b6
describe
'113856' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKY' 'sip-files00200.jpg'
538f1bda5a462f9a4dccc9b02d7ceae6
cedcf8a1ea2203b26d17a1323a47c4d3f03c99fa
describe
'48890' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALKZ' 'sip-files00200.pro'
ac29ea465e7b09aa99236f44188da574
f400c7b3bacdf97fc2c61e02eedbcc76375fdc89
describe
'40281' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLA' 'sip-files00200.QC.jpg'
1106af5a1147adbe997d6bcb7d9b29fb
0a31a718973caaa06953e207ff5977753c6e1db9
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLB' 'sip-files00200.tif'
346288cd24e817089dd7ac0c963708cd
c7a415cad1d77b0379b1b8b3bdd4196282781de4
describe
'2030' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLC' 'sip-files00200.txt'
55db74f173ba7ebed645032f296f1b24
c5e6a1f0330f6a1ed5c01170bc1a37e3e8d41d9f
describe
'10461' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLD' 'sip-files00200thm.jpg'
41b34c13a02f8ae47f9bf4d6c3a8f325
77d248ea772803d0f07706a16f09fce26caec12f
describe
'974573' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLE' 'sip-files00201.jp2'
cc5dfb2256594bb387cdf40f9b13b10f
33e091f88e2f9f986bfff1b07376295ca246a558
describe
'65737' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLF' 'sip-files00201.jpg'
eaed2a79e002df30802c85368991a64c
b474ad1bd5b52d0463203f1c3407226b8f46230a
describe
'25547' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLG' 'sip-files00201.pro'
a1d7c2cd0632e07c84bb5cb515d6e50c
d80ad909d38b1bdbe46f36d48e1ffab77aa0bd6f
describe
'23152' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLH' 'sip-files00201.QC.jpg'
496d34d10017095d2e4187b1404bfc91
fa55462d9d7c4ffc997ed63af3ab73094f991a8c
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLI' 'sip-files00201.tif'
3de7baad858b5bc5e68ca5fcb6bda335
f2e622b1893103cac730072381b175b8c96ab908
describe
'1063' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLJ' 'sip-files00201.txt'
984b8affbc58bbc44623b4a238d4d0ff
9f45923b04081db0746180cc45146584f3eb7935
describe
'6813' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLK' 'sip-files00201thm.jpg'
daf032f87b92c41613472d554f5d358d
972ff528f263905963e0825cba60967d6ca819d2
describe
'1001688' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLL' 'sip-files00202.jp2'
f898121e0b32d63a9122c9b5d222727b
3deae293cdb0e6964350e93eee099e01af65815c
describe
'84449' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLM' 'sip-files00202.jpg'
9b123f863186aa4424555344eff93628
4559803980828e9edd20d60528cd173ba348b230
describe
'35413' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLN' 'sip-files00202.pro'
69be96a7a49176a99e99dee30cc1a875
90336123a55634731d983d69d6b1dec5c4dac861
describe
'29426' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLO' 'sip-files00202.QC.jpg'
aa2d4a6e652d228cce4566eeff0ac5ea
537206a8ca882a599a046b55b904f06d04684f1d
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLP' 'sip-files00202.tif'
46518b0e751e7ac218d47044cdb90b1b
cac8c4f06d6b639390b16edc66ab5f340a09ccb4
describe
'1534' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLQ' 'sip-files00202.txt'
c5f502d48f2a2c8bc46b72c1c30b5243
7ff4c3908abf7c25d56e4a7c53302ad594162f04
describe
'7935' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLR' 'sip-files00202thm.jpg'
f8564036108482f877cdce8d36decfe4
4de5db603222615ce01839fc55d2f8ee4110e6be
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLS' 'sip-files00203.jp2'
5e4b338ce65dcdfdf995d4b22e7f99a5
cefbc7ff7a38a3adac86cb83ad5ce5370bb20400
describe
'99373' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLT' 'sip-files00203.jpg'
605b1823396e983f858034eb434af3f1
0d7b4faa812e47d1146a904917d6e67996bb2ef2
describe
'44114' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLU' 'sip-files00203.pro'
04fa15e597238924002cf02c817312fc
2cbccdc45498017d42ce0fb756c186bb9a32e3e8
describe
'35286' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLV' 'sip-files00203.QC.jpg'
2471f97e810fe540c99b3eb6dbb114c2
008aa4b48147adc41e52666a44937a1c880a80d4
'2011-11-14T22:26:18-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLW' 'sip-files00203.tif'
9f39e6267f1831acce3a0d5a37e41a10
a662b6690a52214803647e687c1f9e489dee1a0c
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLX' 'sip-files00203.txt'
efc407000dd98173909dc579a0ed9e53
556ee324304e2f1c36903df706858eb10863d056
describe
'10231' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLY' 'sip-files00203thm.jpg'
587400487415c209fd40a8bee11d975e
d5a37a1f31b8297b4da55aca8c467350225e9a5e
describe
'1001693' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALLZ' 'sip-files00204.jp2'
a9fb1d80d301dd15742b9c80118012de
528af8f68d93e2976ef23ecf55a791915605f7b0
describe
'95064' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMA' 'sip-files00204.jpg'
c17a4f948bda1f539a46f780196633ef
15adf8e91e93741ae16482786218bca3f6c49e47
describe
'42516' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMB' 'sip-files00204.pro'
572729be8b800190aaaca90d704836ae
080fb78b7c21dc628f33b7aff62562b3d82bc1b9
describe
'33221' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMC' 'sip-files00204.QC.jpg'
cf418b6b3f22f3772b912e8b42876ffd
f02f81a87895e03cfb4d7a77384c9932adc8dbee
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMD' 'sip-files00204.tif'
77f4367e81a482ef4641437c2b9d7433
6021a94e647fcb501991966823df24f82a0956e4
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALME' 'sip-files00204.txt'
fd00482c021bf1a4d80a569f56ef8fcc
9f15cd014908c3e94ac19a971a8245cafcca4bd4
describe
'8566' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMF' 'sip-files00204thm.jpg'
866ea6b157ed112b5a9991c9e51c2127
32bd3be8ba9a08732d3bc910c664fb25a4a5b037
describe
'1007521' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMG' 'sip-files00205.jp2'
8f28344be4ab6197e9c0178a7bd28dd6
b91259dd0b03bb667f327a2475adfa44bd35cf7d
describe
'106246' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMH' 'sip-files00205.jpg'
d8f4b6100ee49a9da7db8a721bff8516
a593a0244cfad35a285e0407e2ce085cfe958bbe
describe
'46142' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMI' 'sip-files00205.pro'
e24ed09c6cf9045a5344f4c0bbb5099a
2442fb055c662f39585b618b83eb14a541defbed
describe
'38103' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMJ' 'sip-files00205.QC.jpg'
38a582eead3f6389aadd1572ddc77a91
1d4d84269d33eab8d7ff5f35a855b69132deff0a
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMK' 'sip-files00205.tif'
829ebf0d69cfd8294acfdac08b13f4bd
35c1282eb0f86f6970cd15b44a59e7eebd7d100b
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALML' 'sip-files00205.txt'
b46ba289853c851bdbc80b5931e1f391
fd69b289699ef9f5b8bd5bdb998a6e1dbef628b9
describe
'11041' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMM' 'sip-files00205thm.jpg'
67927ac9492f626d644795600d443961
b8b33cfc46594ae8d19b6727a7271fa9c1499ad5
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMN' 'sip-files00206.jp2'
b7a3a75c71c1b0c19f9a5d4307970537
1858edd99d3fadb5a8ef15d08677680b176515fb
describe
'76567' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMO' 'sip-files00206.jpg'
26919c29a95352fd4f76aa4aa5404a23
c56007b4c53812957d9853c15e43ca7c01a8c995
describe
'34824' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMP' 'sip-files00206.pro'
4988d06d0b2f9d4bcd1187e23efba593
c53fa40a41a99806305692aac84d18769299fdb6
describe
'26093' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMQ' 'sip-files00206.QC.jpg'
68987841fbd80d9b4ace774ddc5aafc9
e7a8a1edc2954293a67e3cb3d80451d0a6fc6ae2
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMR' 'sip-files00206.tif'
72582f8f7b5fe45fb1c461978d56eae0
a511fbf6fb64f439d4c93bb829cde5ad6b3967f0
describe
'1729' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMS' 'sip-files00206.txt'
a52dc3acb4a4e22c4d3a6d14b2b3d135
5470926ce9e5ba97ac16d405ce7996677741fd8d
describe
'7122' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMT' 'sip-files00206thm.jpg'
f121050b4e725a105d978ca1cfe8b609
fd7121d7279f18fab8660635b6a8cb79f20e5fbd
describe
'965015' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMU' 'sip-files00207.jp2'
00262c57461f88c29ac626cbdf85ba1c
9cdd20061bda19e59726506085985d55fbea69a4
describe
'63577' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMV' 'sip-files00207.jpg'
2fa34a5a9842e02f2ce5ed4bf1bebc83
6ec2b0df8d922a9236ccd5b321baaa75010ab29a
describe
'32826' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMW' 'sip-files00207.pro'
b44e926079e708bf72729e1ad0292cbd
3e29d5e7459eab4ab3c623dbd2e230795365a6b2
describe
'21243' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMX' 'sip-files00207.QC.jpg'
1d8469f312eb17d410091099fa63c4db
23c5577dab105874179191bebbed83b004698034
describe
'7967411' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMY' 'sip-files00207.tif'
50889747b7e1a44de12f2323e169f743
d1e595eb3a01d55b44937f8982424ade71565afa
describe
'1384' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALMZ' 'sip-files00207.txt'
4609e228dedcf1082bddb48b484465b0
13b245a20a61df34e1a25422f1b86fd7d4721170
describe
'6326' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNA' 'sip-files00207thm.jpg'
d3949e9583a6bac0a81aa6395bfc5ee6
3e97f66cf677835ba608dc5333cc7284ea88ccfd
describe
'861475' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNB' 'sip-files00208.jp2'
a2b74e676bd9e58688bc5fca79081e6b
aeb4afa10b0ae0f6525930282eb0227a2124cc0d
describe
'48059' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNC' 'sip-files00208.jpg'
f4cbbccd064929c577570fe4385868ee
e42921490ba5f34585a7dd42a75feffdfd52f1bb
describe
'19788' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALND' 'sip-files00208.pro'
316b13b67b62a6786b359cd6d4d6dbe4
9d661be116d3bd46c4abe1a02b28f283eec28d6b
describe
'16077' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNE' 'sip-files00208.QC.jpg'
0d0b80a17b40bb366215310e3f36d081
99ef1a789854ee253277a8ee24103b81ed723764
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNF' 'sip-files00208.tif'
4febe59e231d02da2e3d1e52374f87af
c6edbde521c44dfbd8a0ce7822423953643f5b89
describe
'842' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNG' 'sip-files00208.txt'
377e52054818757c1864676e23ef7fc3
e60ea255e6724d14eb3f9ac575993807a793a2ae
describe
'4636' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNH' 'sip-files00208thm.jpg'
26fb75f496085e60dcd44d92ec1893db
e2c2b4d9b72467bb9f90385d411202d8818c9f8d
describe
'994719' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNI' 'sip-files00209.jp2'
db9580c002f687ba7953a2ff73138fdf
fa5d8dbd321123ec1c372923712752e52a47da63
describe
'86835' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNJ' 'sip-files00209.jpg'
33d84cb8a697bd8e3bfcc8814b08280a
239a2838ed9ab2a8da7350dc3ed32be57bd14b40
describe
'38967' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNK' 'sip-files00209.pro'
04da4107d0028925722b68f04ec58bea
8bff790d39d46814478c5313de99b0058541dab8
describe
'30621' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNL' 'sip-files00209.QC.jpg'
cd21c4f1b7d029574e7adfe2b030afb2
73893fead5a128ac01f3123f3962e1a0dfc4ee94
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNM' 'sip-files00209.tif'
014df9f12a00541be56ed8bd02d775f6
500db7e03bf0bc6272f49fbb05d293d41b86eb25
describe
'1656' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNN' 'sip-files00209.txt'
1307843bcbee325443d8e9ed000cd788
43d632afaba10b5152930c64aa1765966b2745f4
describe
'8689' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNO' 'sip-files00209thm.jpg'
ec50f7984d4d378d50d18a3f93d0a26f
59932f12fb9f2f3c41eb5c915e071629a5356cb7
describe
'1001617' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNP' 'sip-files00210.jp2'
3cdd434dd7bcfa39a7c1ea494b1d7f6d
68a5225dcd05c2da0939c055d6dee1f031aab8a5
describe
'110941' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNQ' 'sip-files00210.jpg'
f1406b13d903fd291432a2fe46ae0046
8afec2c6ff9df01b5a0fefdef5c265ba0b20d26a
describe
'46301' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNR' 'sip-files00210.pro'
e36bb9248ff52471261b323611da4803
8793c5da97c55ca2e6ae2cbcb92ccce9416b7b02
describe
'38802' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNS' 'sip-files00210.QC.jpg'
26adb58378385393cf864861985b79eb
c21387be0bd31120583edbd3c34f7f36c4425227
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNT' 'sip-files00210.tif'
b50528286373e439254747a3151542d2
335b1b79c0571c9ed89c39f2989626aaabbcf714
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNU' 'sip-files00210.txt'
20cb3192f1fac1391d3541cac7c2793b
24bdf8c218f91d5b872ca50d80a81b836ad0af6f
describe
'10183' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNV' 'sip-files00210thm.jpg'
76462e1232d3fead87a28909db5e468f
f574e2b656820635ffa21b000f070163dfa2f082
describe
'994748' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNW' 'sip-files00211.jp2'
cc44e2d29642670b4b79133865ef1d74
bac5aa06540e4a5061f7f6aedb2c063c63340d7f
describe
'93248' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNX' 'sip-files00211.jpg'
0b7aca973ca4db0d09983dd3003ae4da
979b68771dd9a68fe7860c098c829da2a56c8984
describe
'41359' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNY' 'sip-files00211.pro'
e7ea43cd40a5b041d2396acb2c669e4d
d17fc03b9fc75c9a984a1260be176092e40a7853
describe
'33119' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALNZ' 'sip-files00211.QC.jpg'
53a0141ec470f917810b13212fe5fdcf
a5fc704e82a3ee1d5b5162f46cddbde252c788ce
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOA' 'sip-files00211.tif'
637cf0109286ee29fae658fd9051e9d8
9cd55fc7ba2f7d0706284570969c3e4680bb74de
describe
'1789' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOB' 'sip-files00211.txt'
08b0552dc6c5556dc416b7a54b22e4c5
b8e9644fedb4338904c0ab26bce5ef545421a669
'2011-11-14T22:23:02-05:00'
describe
'9820' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOC' 'sip-files00211thm.jpg'
4e3d554c6b1f915bb260ed852b1ca1c9
8771773d64f281512680408ac4760537df917683
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOD' 'sip-files00212.jp2'
814170d89722defb307facbc2d0142e8
d3f63e1eff3aec0920bf13589508edb7ae3137f1
describe
'106104' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOE' 'sip-files00212.jpg'
e1a051afca0278a25b4ed9d3a4343a4c
3a70aae3407f0950a8062398c2808752e0c6a2f3
describe
'45020' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOF' 'sip-files00212.pro'
33b51d77d92f7e1ee76e76a012c95a94
ea72b81f26b005d91276ddddd82137430cc6a06d
describe
'37372' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOG' 'sip-files00212.QC.jpg'
5def119cf8df6822ea29e9e7af05b21b
11f8658c880c7bb957b08cbf5e40e31e643ca877
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOH' 'sip-files00212.tif'
0140faa7d949beebbc0b3b37df5476a8
cc135eca2b1dfcfdfb8164224f8e9f0eb394a3eb
describe
'1915' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOI' 'sip-files00212.txt'
9758c4be95328d4b8c15033323eb6cd7
6709fb716c2271a3ac41e836f4c221582d40ea11
describe
'9817' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOJ' 'sip-files00212thm.jpg'
441911701ea16e22b0e1bd5224fa2e0f
7d21f845e64fd459944df7b2db90fcba1272a7c9
describe
'994615' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOK' 'sip-files00213.jp2'
2f498f01c3699a625fc0b31b28a140ec
13b3ce9d4587427008f4aaa91ebbbb103139fd80
describe
'103776' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOL' 'sip-files00213.jpg'
6304de8c4001c820b32cdeb68ad6249a
f2fe969a2d0f02efc2c6a8173eae051e3d861d5e
describe
'44650' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOM' 'sip-files00213.pro'
ef8e9427db430278ac3a77bc635f6e68
d21f3e74617368273fd34329dc72ddd1ef8c9dfb
describe
'37084' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALON' 'sip-files00213.QC.jpg'
e1011ea655f69697697eadaa44ed1bed
89532da77041b6f64334ebf090635245a0663a22
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOO' 'sip-files00213.tif'
0afb21d91ee8acb594934afda8eabcd9
93713e383dcecd143e47713ad920734f791e36a9
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOP' 'sip-files00213.txt'
f0d66a8ad96e6e6c1efaba0fb9175e99
aee7c3b23deb9f94431c39f6c8bcfb440b59cd36
describe
'10614' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOQ' 'sip-files00213thm.jpg'
9248e76caed7aff3d80cf1241ad4b1dc
1f43eda925c7f24fee4cd85b7e78f5c8f238af00
describe
'1001612' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOR' 'sip-files00214.jp2'
d23b5dc7e1397e1db2ac91515dab322a
74777006e75f983650bd73fe7ecd2711fb0350fc
describe
'109494' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOS' 'sip-files00214.jpg'
00cc27c680e50935f85d5ab44c8ac137
a61ceaaf95cc7a759d8703b5525fcbf80f2c6765
describe
'45933' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOT' 'sip-files00214.pro'
a115335972bfa6072273e4ff8459186a
02e9faa4ad343288864720bdb4278be338143c1e
describe
'38814' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOU' 'sip-files00214.QC.jpg'
0a4fd27120ee9a62f166711bdf0a57e3
3c787da4231b3937e13af396e96512f802b888e5
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOV' 'sip-files00214.tif'
cfe35b00c691b26eacdea1e14ec1b89a
73d9a450a5d6d928f8e9280120e5e3a4d43f80a9
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOW' 'sip-files00214.txt'
e6083060e9e9e9d68dfbdaf49396f9fb
80cfcbf1826447cdcc3f75b8036c99dd4e445ef7
describe
'10212' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOX' 'sip-files00214thm.jpg'
9b7abdc496f5d6ad598d95146d65af9c
073ce7eea7dd6c75f5ea5ecc950e2e62dd2c7836
describe
'932337' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOY' 'sip-files00215.jp2'
f4ac9b84ba2cfb48cfae4097de2aa954
530ccaf2e46e8279e8b057f4ceec0cbdc1a8fec6
describe
'60301' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALOZ' 'sip-files00215.jpg'
bdfd7d5effae2a630d27d92bd30ac6b6
6c1eefa2698d11af5fce3f760af7a1700077b892
describe
'29753' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPA' 'sip-files00215.pro'
5e82ca84c3d67d4d54ae557be710eca9
7946fb8a23b8baf4cf088d9088931469815809a2
describe
'20973' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPB' 'sip-files00215.QC.jpg'
77c35094285a7b5c9dfcd8efb6009d4a
28d5c249743d4a30fc4ece26823904bf51c9fbb4
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPC' 'sip-files00215.tif'
dc7f3cf95d8b30eabde220a6418bc4ec
78169e667dd78ef8023a9a48ec674f3bc2614788
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPD' 'sip-files00215.txt'
15a7e01dd73feea08f236d47ca2bab89
0f887bb34141e7a596e309561434c9c081e60943
describe
'6236' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPE' 'sip-files00215thm.jpg'
22e65938e1f786063cb4892849350562
3cef665b551f2f8ce6d3c2b3a1414e74e1bcc645
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPF' 'sip-files00216.jp2'
f76a44c4523cb3d02daff72e9c8e9967
f544b89773da1b2db9a5bd55b1d5e448d28ed347
describe
'80856' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPG' 'sip-files00216.jpg'
d6d50054e3210e55a796de102dde31b4
0bb3d8dc968b83cf32157151ae30e77a1944b028
describe
'35934' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPH' 'sip-files00216.pro'
becdb5ac88637cd2aef9c838fe10cdad
5d6888d4997857e497eab18092ae1d96b64ed111
describe
'27255' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPI' 'sip-files00216.QC.jpg'
5d1c1fe9a4c67acc9aea8a19a5c82136
54038e9c7688977251da65481bf080ea594a8bd2
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPJ' 'sip-files00216.tif'
457cbe445cc7c0fb16d159a2073da075
4e4aed94b1a6106bf99b236abae19e0acf84f599
describe
'1597' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPK' 'sip-files00216.txt'
b3af1d63beb5cc03cf8303840d736408
11e46ed85d098d5c8923e042fa54b778933ccb1c
describe
'7495' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPL' 'sip-files00216thm.jpg'
f0939978a9f0f95156a909147b76756f
c3961397befe4028e152d7e33e57292f6d8cd895
describe
'954642' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPM' 'sip-files00217.jp2'
d0aa8c2a85a3a95182f58b14ed19b4dc
eb79db6a062d88ff3926057877dc6f273f15a3be
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPN' 'sip-files00217.jpg'
a85b32dc72f156ac8866c2418230b937
d6fae46613d564b3fd279008c202e0f94985eaf0
describe
'44592' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPO' 'sip-files00217.pro'
737571501c906101bdca25dd16ba35f4
3d4f0c2e2b8795db7321735f33f4a9e2738c344a
describe
'35011' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPP' 'sip-files00217.QC.jpg'
9e2a83600ad90d7dc85955027919d6e0
825df3f26df66a053adb11b2ee23b6d6a6016f6d
describe
'7646853' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPQ' 'sip-files00217.tif'
f559b58fd764eb400c016e3fe2452bd3
27dba7141a1f99bcb08c49e6c21da6fbbaaa6f8f
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPR' 'sip-files00217.txt'
b915d8a0f1e6da98e61f6b67cffb2b57
363afb8ed8a92317063aae2faf1f26e56fe6633a
describe
'10535' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPS' 'sip-files00217thm.jpg'
413804db36608af518ca3f423b8ea0c0
f1b359b6f06c94a77840eb62987cab87dd636db9
describe
'1001686' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPT' 'sip-files00218.jp2'
dc3c7496478a83371f9bad05eef8a63a
5e7e665bbb057675fb6018b8d35940da4bc2fa07
describe
'88412' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPU' 'sip-files00218.jpg'
5bbaf32b45d60b4904647fd4673504e2
daad7c07de48c892bf73725e1eca7f3d7e6bd72b
describe
'40615' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPV' 'sip-files00218.pro'
9bc86c57a4a53b886ac6f3c16b657e27
328d5e87580a29bb48e6234cfce83b2cee8cca1b
describe
'30795' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPW' 'sip-files00218.QC.jpg'
6217776117d786b42a668b685534cf7c
190964549d4f365196abed4145635085d3b14505
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPX' 'sip-files00218.tif'
80ed246aea7a5f12f51c23b9c10164df
e520b4610b3c60ebdbd1bf13db1fb65756b02518
describe
'1872' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPY' 'sip-files00218.txt'
2358087cd82c8dc966634b307b4ebc89
df6bfc8af9be108db0f584047a071599991c28bb
describe
'8309' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALPZ' 'sip-files00218thm.jpg'
1da8d84b1c91a3be200982ed981c4608
27705ae5918d3cab794479678e008d17dd76b386
describe
'953362' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQA' 'sip-files00219.jp2'
d79acb314588f7a64ee066cfac63e16c
c20facc59d06ef2c4a64fc1c3ee76c7d5dbd3eba
describe
'89905' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQB' 'sip-files00219.jpg'
fffad7fb8cb2a3c41678bef6056d076c
a87701edc045010be3a5ffa033a884305edd44fe
describe
'42635' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQC' 'sip-files00219.pro'
1d9e4bf3dcf8004b45651cc4f597ad4c
09283b8c372193d0da3735f48a2f893ba3c8c2ab
describe
'31363' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQD' 'sip-files00219.QC.jpg'
edd051438c0d2d012a739ac549bb5d5e
4c161c27683e0b38ba4e212059a19766ea683e23
describe
'7636537' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQE' 'sip-files00219.tif'
1ea6c539893dc7eefaff47bb044d8a82
ae2d957fc640518c76f4eb422b27091e0320aefa
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQF' 'sip-files00219.txt'
0117602ef206eb309048c81798dbedf8
61daff400ca290c56c0538bfc46c678bcb2bf911
describe
'9674' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQG' 'sip-files00219thm.jpg'
77d1b8e8a18cac388d13948a6c0bb871
4fd4926ec299315c9d575b0f96bc17863797acb9
describe
'1001689' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQH' 'sip-files00220.jp2'
90d268b34e9892fa69f2dfd209af3a26
5c5bcea148924d2f21554c78e64ab111c4169875
describe
'107547' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQI' 'sip-files00220.jpg'
fef231d764771f7400b683150abad4a3
4460aff2b58d650e8ddc39c52955e1359672d48e
describe
'46938' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQJ' 'sip-files00220.pro'
e38c3092a15c5bb5d360af00ff38964a
f314f11eee86c94945e2010af4b4c0be1377efc1
describe
'37950' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQK' 'sip-files00220.QC.jpg'
4b03156021ca10fb536d55166a2b1a47
86fc5f4b28af833f40484b4a96beb8c5a13e5946
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQL' 'sip-files00220.tif'
fd9d608fce2187f53739258d13710c3c
192016a62eb31ee557cc60bd758c4f4f3598b0f4
describe
'1984' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQM' 'sip-files00220.txt'
1bc170f91f5b563c9aa5086cac28ca3d
3f527be673c2f00fcb8a468893a8c4d94bc9ee4f
describe
'10052' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQN' 'sip-files00220thm.jpg'
6aea7c03dec7131da026926766ed4a39
472a9dfeb676cae7474a8f603605492f2b873e1f
describe
'940694' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQO' 'sip-files00221.jp2'
fa9fc6d577741504090d7b1da7896e58
0ac72e790fe63c48973f5247f5bfe7b907df9eef
describe
'88574' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQP' 'sip-files00221.jpg'
716776f48b9a4037b9f76ac6ee48a3e4
56649f5c5ab196bfcda3fb47ec7f196afa517e13
describe
'42408' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQQ' 'sip-files00221.pro'
5fcec0cbc573ffe3f56e26904d6e9070
cd5ed86c16f8cc61009f808fa697b275b594c7f4
describe
'31140' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQR' 'sip-files00221.QC.jpg'
6544a666a170de00abed99bf6997e620
c6d26c76fd6998f417de7d9616c01438d2c01fa7
describe
'7534871' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQS' 'sip-files00221.tif'
6705a1030596c022a81d7b3dd614cd9e
f9e07d0ecc0e9b1ae1ebf647ba0701cf2eccb69e
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQT' 'sip-files00221.txt'
a31d4600fefdfb23b24b6a1c99d32fe8
24a88e550d9dad8a8c8f418b9efebd33c937eb32
describe
'9577' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQU' 'sip-files00221thm.jpg'
c465adac2b3ca2603ffc562b70c74991
c6b2997082c5fe3d633289f056fac868da6aed02
describe
'1001682' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQV' 'sip-files00222.jp2'
85ca3adfeac6676c026bc81a2c0c6d13
671a4deed8f725c7ca70008914915c259634ae03
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQW' 'sip-files00222.jpg'
ca94ec25bb84210770150b7ebb2046ac
24ae042b665f641b675c6aedb81445772075fbe8
describe
'44600' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQX' 'sip-files00222.pro'
042bcb11977a30d7f5f8a102d3c33001
3ceed57f01d3088f11876c862e28ab5a8beb2b50
describe
'35423' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQY' 'sip-files00222.QC.jpg'
9d418c61840bc67ef1d8eae7cd3a0020
4cbff94dcfe4648a487dd85823e59b0d2d8914c6
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALQZ' 'sip-files00222.tif'
186284f5928f183a7465ef976177e614
2d76fd751eb0fc22d8d0878ae85c2d026c764f6b
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRA' 'sip-files00222.txt'
302f0fa04d1ce76bfe18a0a8b2c0fe5f
ed5480b0db9dace82b5985afc783fcd52d58e313
describe
'9301' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRB' 'sip-files00222thm.jpg'
6df7ec555714a315c1adbd9c3a5837d9
d120ba7c070e13468a1f69bb0253edc262d6afdf
describe
'944211' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRC' 'sip-files00223.jp2'
e7f189f59544dbe49f089d48947d5c84
74f46620e25cc37e4bb7f7ec339c8c8bdc086f6d
describe
'110213' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRD' 'sip-files00223.jpg'
137700fcf968da4ff063905c8f7dfd5e
f236d0ef793a6c3b78f0805b124570c940186007
describe
'47879' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRE' 'sip-files00223.pro'
334ed135862767ee8d11fcc2432b6f42
135f9c9825adcb2c9376fb5b07ee50883d749754
describe
'38487' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRF' 'sip-files00223.QC.jpg'
a61b72e3d57607c4d99f1be88b61b0eb
230c5b1782d5594dedb52050db9187672b8941c4
describe
'7560803' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRG' 'sip-files00223.tif'
96ff021424b5a6e8b7665bc975c73ef7
a2dd80b41f2596823569c6d59e088bd89153df24
describe
'1998' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRH' 'sip-files00223.txt'
6f074ed8a1c57714c71a7726f8f3758b
b087eed53b62d4e1374bad32eb814c0644918412
describe
'11656' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRI' 'sip-files00223thm.jpg'
6312d790a5c141524a498e9a2da3ad7c
68e16fe50944981ef70efec3786831dba2e3caf5
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRJ' 'sip-files00224.jp2'
1f51f45f486d70fadae618ad2ed53d0c
8bf4a90bdcffcef848b0581ed04f55598803c894
describe
'110409' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRK' 'sip-files00224.jpg'
9ad45fb88264e35f6704389ab60ee25e
0d582c6ade82f7c0bc11f30752134c6ab547a24d
describe
'44296' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRL' 'sip-files00224.pro'
99c5274f0f06332d3b0f431f7135a919
f79ce6d1b4b4292e9fe9fe50091bc7421536a0cf
describe
'39551' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRM' 'sip-files00224.QC.jpg'
18a10735b664818119911bd79f3a4461
9e6237ea977bbcdcfd0a0b7c28e6b86fa127000e
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRN' 'sip-files00224.tif'
698bf652a7c481891f4d099dfdcc02f4
bfe1243f183bc4e99965783df087c27732e847d8
describe
'1896' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRO' 'sip-files00224.txt'
5f7db202d99f16eb4aafd71cd1249932
a93347448ea5718aea18bf53e7b2aadb8daac51f
describe
'10358' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRP' 'sip-files00224thm.jpg'
7e1e980322f987e54c119b81952f4c57
39fb5c8557f021240c5dbfb122dc12ee29aaf7cf
describe
'993292' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRQ' 'sip-files00225.jp2'
f87321faa6d2bf47b9be3dee219533cb
bf35c25c900b06503442f40ae453d95059363210
describe
'101390' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRR' 'sip-files00225.jpg'
c6d454a2b9f5a7f420adabab9ebb42bd
c473fea0bcd41a758cf234f35fd4261c02f68036
describe
'43808' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRS' 'sip-files00225.pro'
79b4fad4b91bc42c3fb84d97203e6923
cf466a88f463f3728acb7a2d3091379373e5d275
describe
'35893' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRT' 'sip-files00225.QC.jpg'
a27a0fed66deaa0ba55b2a55c0400489
065cd1460515f74c2fc9eefa619bfa12532957ca
describe
'7955731' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRU' 'sip-files00225.tif'
3960626f89e9d99f3c12cfa94ec409bf
de554717d46ad6f7c7dd568b4a3cbc8d2efb4de7
describe
'1867' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRV' 'sip-files00225.txt'
31107e3caf06e7e83591d7cbb3e09942
aa35f1c2b209deec66370e0f5ce7d079a31ea212
describe
'10105' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRW' 'sip-files00225thm.jpg'
ccb4d96a03f9e503fa728fc23aed7259
e92eb0cc8853578a3f6048a58bb9a9e089d2fb9a
describe
'1018705' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRX' 'sip-files00226.jp2'
db404a01e533699c1d4946784babf86c
e2b5bf5c1da79f71c8699be4f2977cbf791cac17
describe
'72770' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRY' 'sip-files00226.jpg'
a9f8228059d1287147cb8eb0e983d866
7c04048c62060edcb93a6840b1686a362b8301cb
describe
'28804' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALRZ' 'sip-files00226.pro'
359ac6aec8156d3bfce55ae001fcc8ec
093bcb8a828880d14f8fb3aea5959b010cc06285
describe
'24980' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSA' 'sip-files00226.QC.jpg'
ebd38b1ae8c6825a86d293703292dfd2
d91ffccaedd95cbc16b925601e0880f149d506cd
describe
'8159967' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSB' 'sip-files00226.tif'
1d0f02a697f88407f8f0359a4020fd52
c7c9de0b43e4fe543e187a58fc57ebc783462ec1
describe
'1297' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSC' 'sip-files00226.txt'
f20f95ba7322bb370067bdc83d148702
7471773e07b5da4de44d449ef0d869d7436bd887
describe
'7658' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSD' 'sip-files00226thm.jpg'
11f4fab80cd6aa329366390050e7b361
580ac2d88859058a6fcbf07c61686a1ee586cc81
describe
'993288' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSE' 'sip-files00227.jp2'
1fd80b9bd27f7dca39885f23ddc88340
f52d83ff0f99c35a81f7e7aa72b47e5ac9d07c01
describe
'81952' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSF' 'sip-files00227.jpg'
635d72f8fb298fe481d847baba01a4c0
990a15f014dfa7cabf30f9eb2b124bb655af3cc9
describe
'32906' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSG' 'sip-files00227.pro'
296c861c9aace7c27fe1147dc900acdc
167509687517157c59479ad0d815e925e8a049b0
describe
'28316' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSH' 'sip-files00227.QC.jpg'
99e6fbc7a373130154a71069ab2c20c7
2f6376dbe2d74c6d0e7325fc389ad2429d793d7c
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSI' 'sip-files00227.tif'
3ca494300f8717ef338b7d4eecf73f87
2d0d50fd362ffac0a6015258428acb7067bf4b7f
describe
'1435' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSJ' 'sip-files00227.txt'
ab2f01276dd9ec38cb12f843ae80399f
afdb1f179c0eff8a10e62548b7328cd02f36d2ba
describe
'8101' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSK' 'sip-files00227thm.jpg'
ea1b72a7e70dd7a8cce37998955222d8
c813d69d1730fd9233d502e2c8a0d9b724f0c954
describe
'1018809' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSL' 'sip-files00228.jp2'
d9e1f6dcb695e275af8e85fd880ce7f8
5cfa0304affb52176b38045c04f05c3aec304f47
describe
'111146' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSM' 'sip-files00228.jpg'
6eb70596d1fc3aea6207ba4d148894b6
2527a88d7fc92e347e45912bb9e4ef8af7073fc6
describe
'47293' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSN' 'sip-files00228.pro'
4f1749624517e0485ff3715f80c47d62
03f9537e942e86736518e6e77f89247911ea358d
describe
'38748' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSO' 'sip-files00228.QC.jpg'
c6df75f10f68f5959ed790d66d884925
2b86cb77aeae8049579d0ae044b481b0a50cbd62
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSP' 'sip-files00228.tif'
44a8b1e595e403b12fb53f6e6a06ce96
e8de565bdd99f2ead9281b8686ece38db9f60cf0
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSQ' 'sip-files00228.txt'
997aebe9fb440779a03ccff125831ed7
9264ab2d1b8df6708501d13c5618f0f6dd232619
describe
'10939' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSR' 'sip-files00228thm.jpg'
4984076601e0b0477a2a18842dc558b3
770bf5000385affd6597f21f073ddca2cebbfc7b
describe
'993256' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSS' 'sip-files00229.jp2'
a9a4b71ad7494afe2312564be2c5d463
2f2f165c813c7a53059409d48bd5bef4253fea07
describe
'86195' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALST' 'sip-files00229.jpg'
d4f853b666408db8ea629572f028ab47
44beb251d8232788213a21f6ccd8a1e8518041d1
describe
'40202' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSU' 'sip-files00229.pro'
3c6e7e55983535c3e6d3c3fe9657d6a6
44a142519c8c52e4d108134eeeafe699866c16da
describe
'29572' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSV' 'sip-files00229.QC.jpg'
45aa1e219025c39eab692df53434b2cd
99a80fd00f9eaf28dfeee5d3219090ac2220c2d7
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSW' 'sip-files00229.tif'
6c2240581a20d904a6d91ea28d4b8d6b
782cfbdf321f2ece10363002b01974a0ea29d361
describe
'1860' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSX' 'sip-files00229.txt'
60e524b5bdf4196d7288c090fa25b0c2
677552ad000352b0886cb942cbb27ecd49808e13
describe
'8572' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSY' 'sip-files00229thm.jpg'
10cec3056399e41a95e6ec5454255832
832581723cf4e04b0a3a7d6be124fe4afeab11e8
describe
'1018573' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALSZ' 'sip-files00230.jp2'
7fcc3ae35a9f4c93c98682745abf953b
960b8342b157b61d330f57eed1c3de532292ccd5
describe
'102837' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTA' 'sip-files00230.jpg'
8165d6ea58fd19642a6f9f3c82bafd39
a930801265499a3423863cae8934ecfc16185072
describe
'44900' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTB' 'sip-files00230.pro'
8e4bd52ed4a3f2adbd3c703e91392d7b
804cd096dd6ab37a377c3e8a583fc08ad35545f8
describe
'36376' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTC' 'sip-files00230.QC.jpg'
345fc444ec146cd364cf82a46e071a77
0573b1a1e94fda7abb5b992d031e033679bf7ab0
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTD' 'sip-files00230.tif'
7c09f5ed4fae4006cd4ec3ae4c9efa36
d8083e9fe4f38e7b9958fafc50e01a4579e9faa0
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTE' 'sip-files00230.txt'
fc543a3a5caf7a825c3d6843c18173e3
49044f9449475b0f187ed4e0a5e5e346078b17c1
describe
'10566' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTF' 'sip-files00230thm.jpg'
df54ef1056588527f8e78b67667da43f
7857457f5dd1cb4b7d64a32b8405f0994b9c27fa
describe
'954976' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTG' 'sip-files00231.jp2'
faad4a3a16d75cddd3e6e6d185f252cb
a3cdf6571349d66da4cc7f96c5d2c1293324b897
describe
'102278' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTH' 'sip-files00231.jpg'
f6a911e7bcd4c00d3f536c96422a006f
7a6876824abbed3193f6a2e0f793dcf0d60cb033
describe
'43034' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTI' 'sip-files00231.pro'
ea5abfa624755b14e3169b762d2b5bdd
d0c06ca926cb77fcb815f4ae06772e494e9c3719
describe
'36086' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTJ' 'sip-files00231.QC.jpg'
059b73799fdbde3a768698087c8cc375
e98385ba777e25487b094f2f060bdd59dda10dbe
describe
'7649629' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTK' 'sip-files00231.tif'
e861068953a438730932dda447fa1c38
016304c517a7b6329188a97585e300c74ddffbb1
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTL' 'sip-files00231.txt'
6a3ffd8305dbfe8f001f02fca729c73d
72f632b7648b5f71725e5fe6842b2525a03d6ba3
describe
'10762' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTM' 'sip-files00231thm.jpg'
39e3aabeeb57e81aac567ea70635f7a4
c6b327bff3774912e0ae99150ffc751324844322
describe
'1018704' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTN' 'sip-files00232.jp2'
888153ec20f989288cd8ff42502d84f1
057fc8764a2780d85ad2994b1c6403a8638f0d8d
describe
'107206' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTO' 'sip-files00232.jpg'
cb16d47932c6da226ed70674db6858d9
d80e8af672d73578c12da3290fe03087b45f8e4a
describe
'44184' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTP' 'sip-files00232.pro'
0bba30a9cf160373b046d41c8fc12d9d
afabfb794b8961de591a7b3d09923efd7aeeda9e
describe
'37429' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTQ' 'sip-files00232.QC.jpg'
b873c19166e8a7a22dee233e85d8e8b2
8e0463df541accff997da0b0c9a78fe34ec5ec2f
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTR' 'sip-files00232.tif'
75b8fbac70bd0b8d2524db35edbb6fb5
1c236c1ef59cb848a0fd09d62ea43168102cd648
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTS' 'sip-files00232.txt'
2808a74fbb083b51e1b0c29e5619ee57
5953939d580075dbc3b1cb5eb0daf9f06e49e916
describe
'10982' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTT' 'sip-files00232thm.jpg'
a4b8f4ed1b4a8a272bd40e1847038d7d
d09f074d156b4b1cb75b94b28217466eeb75949a
describe
'953889' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTU' 'sip-files00233.jp2'
5d70184712a1a4a35bb2153ad6f0d07b
20fcd2e22b486a55700db4f16339a7094c6d0b21
describe
'100332' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTV' 'sip-files00233.jpg'
19c184f301443dc4fba143d0dce241ae
77cbf9649a91727e6584c0553cc9cd9e942d22d3
describe
'43779' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTW' 'sip-files00233.pro'
134c99b79f21a1f15bb11abea26493d0
152f0165c881362e6fd2039481f070e0e9b82588
describe
'34274' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTX' 'sip-files00233.QC.jpg'
808a05cb7b7e359ace964d544d41a9a3
19c4af6d3e408267a4d1feed8bf8a7f55ddceadf
describe
'7640659' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTY' 'sip-files00233.tif'
a66103e6380a7b2dba7f3db6ad7c7bea
a2fb7ccba6f07b7d7d21cd0b2def4e812982545c
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALTZ' 'sip-files00233.txt'
823195160995899131ab26f325382d9d
44393d8f47da6fa0dcde9ca9c20cea55f5aa1d03
describe
'10097' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUA' 'sip-files00233thm.jpg'
779aedeb440f29627c053f2c2dffc019
09b35baea775b674c89bf7d004c405bcf09477f2
describe
'1018813' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUB' 'sip-files00234.jp2'
a165bad73abc9065a5700acd44cbe191
16cfee74e41931b669e5d18af5d1ad94893c29e5
describe
'109945' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUC' 'sip-files00234.jpg'
e6afbc269c0ef678e595f87f86a3c2b8
96ea126d951d2474ae207ce4d87ad0668ddb26e0
describe
'47575' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUD' 'sip-files00234.pro'
4792692c40e7c72d35c06d16083fbfa3
f83a332a98caaf2282bc4d56b804478a1a2d564f
describe
'37577' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUE' 'sip-files00234.QC.jpg'
96cb04f3608b8b49007c2a03afd40d5c
55b067a95bba78f691d0193ebc40acbb4d18feca
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUF' 'sip-files00234.tif'
1a75a711dc3c2d6772b5db298a2211a2
928c2986d20e109d9eaa6ff8e76c7bfe163a2343
describe
'1996' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUG' 'sip-files00234.txt'
0bff264ba1c656e9694e49d9d4da99fd
8728ff2d98714910a0e38fce1f8be0123222630f
describe
'10785' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUH' 'sip-files00234thm.jpg'
599840318a7a170860d1d88ce2e3bd32
7fa5e4d0a18e36d5534c131c39c1ca87b273d083
describe
'946670' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUI' 'sip-files00235.jp2'
05c0c0347bfde939f92612da08c9eb1e
fef749797b6f9a8067fa61e77c947697cfc5b2f2
describe
'68752' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUJ' 'sip-files00235.jpg'
135c7b0c77f1e8cd8537953aadddc08d
94953f1177377ac2fcbec64bf3cda4a6a1438b12
describe
'25921' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUK' 'sip-files00235.pro'
adf8614433e15ef046d3783a4d766df0
5ac7c0956aa8bcfc24504f469c1287e43af1a390
describe
'23741' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUL' 'sip-files00235.QC.jpg'
40ab656bfbbd7eaebe99b0cf3972fca0
886843752ed6c0ad8c9a1401e78c8a6b1dcb1be7
describe
'7582817' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUM' 'sip-files00235.tif'
67ce4d430297d721c1861f8c0a9349e1
f81fbf52d719a210d1ede008be309a53344a1e70
describe
'1131' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUN' 'sip-files00235.txt'
c6f9caa7587c1ac816130fac1c026106
1f6b5d252e59d97d58f271adb11286e66bb1a85d
describe
'6866' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUO' 'sip-files00235thm.jpg'
db08e9492cd32470caf26f10e72f1e85
e173dbebc9b598523669ba30076ef51d3bf7f3fa
describe
'1018743' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUP' 'sip-files00236.jp2'
5802c3a36e581526ef1f0d17b01e0092
24d197330c934e6fb9d80abe1dd81b06556a6771
describe
'47644' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUQ' 'sip-files00236.jpg'
90ce14cd04c439a546e75255268d185a
486cd05a8eef28bdee82aa9a48fc17fc0b499c44
describe
'1621' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUR' 'sip-files00236.pro'
b6975538fd16435cf7a932ae32ec094a
37ca5c0ca88d48433c9fc4c599b6033b96415f7b
describe
'11308' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUS' 'sip-files00236.QC.jpg'
05f5c003cebb24d0cbed3f97ed932c76
ceea611b7de43ce26303e7e8b5c1b0b6e72692fc
describe
'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUT' 'sip-files00236.tif'
ca9a768b7dc692a6384a3e1db1c54890
45dfabe70e79bcef3644cda98b2fbbe9673f46e9
'2011-11-14T22:25:06-05:00'
describe
'188' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUU' 'sip-files00236.txt'
cd3a9137519c3768e3402ec09a1a1e78
0c512817628c47abc9c78ae691871fed879fd9a6
describe
Invalid character
'3347' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUV' 'sip-files00236thm.jpg'
5d1c165ef7578ac9ba19dd38a15e6bc0
c26ae8949ae435601b97fdb7f1e1ec1345e891d7
describe
'1228154' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUW' 'sip-filesBack Cover.jp2'
9eb8be75d6e709269368230af654a0eb
a7d16a417f5723d848e75601fba9cbb35a806c96
describe
'137221' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUX' Cover.jpg'
d8e1f280c2b526e84bfe3175e48afcbb
c8febea0def3b9a14fb91ba5862c6155342516dc
describe
'1159' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUY' Cover.pro'
5e413b54b5a4fe8bd41c45271cd9ae9b
9edf15f772a5e4082106e478e6c1c544087311dc
describe
'29669' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALUZ' Cover.QC.jpg'
783dbdeff8f373e1f490f8807a20d3b9
a2cb08b710264bec8bb6598f6bdd30c1703ed635
describe
'29477600' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALVA' Cover.tif'
4b5e28c8017c9756072768c183429c8f
24ea650c9928b9b64e61f56d486d257cb28f7424
describe
'246' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALVB' Cover.txt'
08e0b75e69d1d5b473f449faf5dfd3ed
1b0d60c5ea1340a2a4629d994e9cbe8067d71982
describe
Invalid character
'7315' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALVC' Coverthm.jpg'
ad868d01a04c137467a178fc695bf12f
72399b412db7267af3b18c1ca418794cb8c79d9d
describe
'1164802' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALVD' 'sip-filesFront
e9aa15a5f49061eb15563fbfe8178d18
3802e55fcc7d7d2c0c6b76ab6bb869c4dbdafced
describe
'140582' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALVE'
162107845cbe99b40a34d7be924ff82a
df2515ef8619019e210a5aa2709ece0065334d6e
'2011-11-14T22:24:19-05:00'
describe
'1056' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALVF'
8e198563ad2b547ea0a1a895e5492b5c
31d5df79d022e1072ebcd794a01b21c8a62a1379
describe
'32573' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALVG'
35f2523b72ab506a1a8c9de53da79d2e
9d7113c2b425806b4c5b294a61e0b66dcd729b4d
describe
'27958480' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALVH'
b8bdc9d26a0ef699fafa6e4b3d78320c
e9da0a7ea8f9d2cfb682ddc64d09d8493d0e9402
describe
'353' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALVI'
7df0595e247696d8c73654fc152dd4e0
a133d44f270ed0172ccf26863b45b7ecfc8ef6cd
describe
Invalid character
'7846' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALVJ'
03eb86debc0f9273eb1ba311bafcf5ff
eb136f0e0dd62d2bfdd721b8c24c0603907aaa91
describe
'283500' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALVK' 'sip-filesSpine.jp2'
ea2df1d7490da739a91e6d25774364f6
0ba141f74df6f30b1ec840a7066416ae5a153934
describe
'33810' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALVL' 'sip-filesSpine.jpg'
e594caff43fa760f9d5ab194efe301c9
355f132bdced9a965f07a0f51143c9022b419edf
describe
'886' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALVM' 'sip-filesSpine.pro'
d86ba43956e071ce88b7bbec467b62d9
ce34541a6e759655616dfea7dcffee6bf7e2dee4
describe
'8162' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALVN' 'sip-filesSpine.QC.jpg'
2f3cd15842f8601c8ff683b6b34cb4e6
d48bab503e3aaba59552cc05fd2ebc644c1e879d
describe
'6805996' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALVO' 'sip-filesSpine.tif'
952bb95f546afaef087229647081a5df
0c8bb0b5672343f4329d5a5a0f625d25dd952dd4
describe
'111' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALVP' 'sip-filesSpine.txt'
8341867501ecd466113ab1c521d51a7b
bf145819b84517a7d1004f8501b5330aabd6bf15
describe
'3142' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALVQ' 'sip-filesSpinethm.jpg'
8c5a083f5d3916d2f689d8e0eee75831
6c2c2746ba6135407db73b116a8900e6cb78fd00
describe
'400665' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALVR' 'sip-filesUF00002012_00001.mets'
c6abbedd85a66878da904ee89810c71e
1c4adcb447b50247114d4b99c005ac26f0ce145d
describe
TargetNamespace.1: Expecting namespace 'http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/digital/metadata/ufdc2/', but the target namespace of the schema document is 'http://digital.uflib.ufl.edu/metadata/ufdc2/'.
'2013-12-16T09:49:38-05:00' 'mixed'
xml resolution
http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/digital/metadata/ufdc2/ufdc2.xsdhttp://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema
BROKEN_LINK http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/digital/metadata/ufdc2/ufdc2.xsd
http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema
The element type "div" must be terminated by the matching end-tag "
".
TargetNamespace.1: Expecting namespace 'http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/digital/metadata/ufdc2/', but the target namespace of the schema document is 'http://digital.uflib.ufl.edu/metadata/ufdc2/'.
'517146' 'info:fdaE20080813_AAAAQFfileF20080814_AAALVU' 'sip-filesUF00002012_00001.xml'
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PETER PARLEY?’s

WALKS IN THR COUNTRY:

RURAL PICKINGS:

BEING,

ATTRACTIVE POINTS IN COUNTRY LIFE AND SCENERY.

BY THE AUTHOR oF

“EPHRAIM HOLDING's DOMESTIC Ap»

RESSEs,”
**OLD HUMPHREY,” &c.

LONDON:
WILLIAM TEGG AND CO., 85, QUEEN
CHEAPSIDE.

1852.

-STREET,



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CONTENTS.

a
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
INTRODUCTORY. ‘ ; . ‘ ; : ‘ ]
CHAPTER II.
SOLITARY RAMBLING IN COUNTRY PLACES.
Companionship in trees——-Communings with the earth and skies.—
Grateful influence of a country walk.—Solitary paths.—Green
lanes.—The park.—The antique manor-house.—The high hill. —
The sylvan scene.—Rural influences.—Country and city pleasures
contrasted.—The country girl . ‘ : ‘ : : 4

CHAPTER III.
COUNTRY RIDES AND DRIVES.

Delights of riding and driving in the country.— The wooded hill—
the open common—the shady avenue.—High banks—hedges—and
green pastures.—The blackbird, hare, and pheasant.—The wind-
mill.—The miller.—The mishap.—The countryman.—The errand
woman.—The group of children.—The shower.—The _public-
house.—The pot-house.—The setting sun i ‘ ali
V1 CONTENTS.

CHAPTER IV.
FARM-HOUSES AND FARMERS.

Contrast between a country farmer and a city tradesman.— Farm
houses.——Stone walls.—Gables.—Pointed roofs.—High and heavy
chimneys.—Oaken door studded with iron.—Porch fitted up with
settles.—A farmer's homestead, fold-yard, and rick-yard.—Rural
picture by Pratt.—The farmer and his visitor.—Howitt’s descrip-
tion of farm-houses and farmers.—The dinner party

CHAPTER V.
ON BIRDS, FLOWERS, AND OTHER THINGS.

Sunbeams and sunny scenes.—Tall trees.—The upland lawn.—
Morning, mid-day, and sunset.—The cuckoo, lark, thrush, black-
bird, and nightingale. — Field flowers. — The heath-flower.—
Animals and reptiles.—Death of a spider.—Sketch in a retired lane

CHAPTER VIL.
THE COUNTRY BOY.

Variety occasioned by the seasons in rural objects and occupations.—
Approach of summer.—Advantage of good temper.—The country
boy.—He swings to and fro on the gate, and eats his bread and
bacon.—The pocket-knife.—Light-heartedness.—The fine ladies.
—The country boy’s rural knowledge.—Speculations on his
future prospects

CHAPTER VII.
A FEW WORDS ABOUT OLD HOUSES.

New attractions given to rural scenes.—Interesting spots no longer
to be identified.—Old houses.—Fragments only of their history to
be obtained.— Way in which they are occupied.— ‘lizabethan old
English manor-houses.—Terraces, balconies, halls, chambers,
furniture, tapestry, and paintings.—The armoury and the associa-
tions it calls forth— Wolverley Court.—Tradition . ‘ ‘

PAGE

17

26

33

40
CONTENTS. Vii

PAGE

CHAPTER VIII.
THE ASCENT OF MOUNT MUCKLESTONE.

Turning natural scenery to a good account.—Perseverance a valuable
quality.— Ascent of Mount Mucklestone.—The solitary traveller.
— Lake Crystal—The rock gives way, and the traveller falls.
—Steepness of Mount Mucklestone.—The second accident of the
traveller.—The cavern.—The ridgy ledge.—The traveller loses his
footing, and rolls over the arch of the cavern.—The escape.—The
summit gained.—Remarks . ° ‘ ; ; A -

CHAPTER IX.
COTTAGES AND COTTAGERS.

Cottage of Mother Hollins.—Mother Hollins’s cat—_The Wanderer.
—Cottages of the poor and of the rich.—Our cares increase the
value of our comforts——Cottage children.—A cottager’s love of
natural beauty.—Trials and afflictions of cottagers——Poor Widow
Gill, and her wayward Son. , ; ° . , - , 5

CHAPTER X.
ON SERVING-MEN, OR MEN-OF-ALL-WORK.

Usefulness of serving-men.—George Glossop.—His varied occupa-
tions and great strength—Proud of his talent in hair-cutting.—
George hives the bees and plays the parts of farrier and butcher.—
Harvest time.—Robert Hadley.—Edwin Horton.—Old Samuel
Green.—John Andrews.—John’s occupations.—The garden, the
stable, the carriage-house and the cellar—John Andrews always
to be found when wanted ° ‘ ; ‘ ‘ :
CHAPTER XI.
ON COUNTRY KINDNESS.

Sketch of spring.—The trees.—The birds.—The cattle-—The young
colts.—Children.—Grey-haired age.—Kindness.—The Duke of
Portland and his tenant.—Kindnesses and unkindnesses.—The
rat-trap.—Kind thoughts, feelings, intentions, words, and deeds.

—A call on a country friend.—Kindness to those who need it is
of double value. ; : ; ‘ ‘ : ; oO
vill CONTENTS.

PAGE

CHAPTER XII.
THE PLOUGHING MATCH.

Attractions of the ploughed field—The ploughing-match.—Fawley
Court.—The prizes.—The nine ploughmen.—Old Preese and the
Prim-my.—The spectators.—The bait.—George Hodges’ care of
his horses—The large knife—Farmer Street the Umpire.—
William Howell gains the first prize—Old Preese’s wheel within
a wheel.—Another ploughing-match fixed for next year . io

CHAPTER XIII.
BLACK JACK.

Common Patch.—The Graingers.—Black Jack.—His cruelty, igno-
rance, idleness and immorality.—The two mastiffs.—Jack ties a
canister to the tail of one of them.—The distress of the poor
animal.—Jack kills him.—The farm-house.—Black Jack commits
a burglary, and is seized and held fast by a mastiff dog.—He is
tried for his life and condemned.—The gallows tree.—Black
Jack is hung, while the mastiff dog barks for joy : : . 84

CHAPTER XIV.
FARMING DUTIES.

The Bible read.—The bell rang—The maids called.—The horse-
keeper roused.—The horses fed.—Calves suckled—Cowhouse
cleaned.—Garden visited.—Ferry boat scooped dry.—Plough
team examined.—The water-trough filled.—The hogs fed.— Malt
ordered.—Wheelbarrows set to work.—Victuals cut for boys.—
Wooden bottles filled——Set ploughs to work.—Ditching.—
Attending to the manure.— Weeding wheat.—Set carpenter to
work.—Hedging.—Picking thistles ; ° ‘ ; .

CHAPTER XV.
PICKINGS OF FIELDS AND MEADOWS.

Love of country.—Odd names of fields, with their significations.—A
corn-field—A_ grasshopper’s garden.— Ploughed fields. —Turnip
fields. —Brook-side meadow.—The fisherman.—Sunny-bank field.
CONTENTS.

—Hop ground.— The pretty meadow. — Winds.— The rocky
meadow.—The Haws.—Broad flat meadow.—Adventure of the
mourning ring.—The river

CHAPTER XVI.
A SPRINKLING OF RURAL ATTRACTIONS.

The dry ditch, old stone quarry, and lonely lane.—The grasshopper,
corncrake, and blackbird—The ploughman, shepherd, hedger,
mole-catcher, mower, haymaker, and reaper.—Field flowers.—
Moors and mountains.—Oaks, streams, and insects; sheep and
horses, clouds, orchards and clover field.—The frosty morning. —
The moon, owlet, weasel, and rat.—Sea-shore, ruined abbey, and
country churchyard

CHAPTER XVII.
ON THE SKIES.

The influence of the skies.—A clear blue sky.—A mountainous sky.
—A peaceful sky.—A fleecy sky.—A threatening sky.—An
iceberg sky.—A stormy sky.—A glorious sky.— A wild and fitful
sky.—A burning sky ° .

CHAPTER XVIII.
COUNTRY STROLLERS,
Beggars.— Pedlars. —Chimney-sweeps.—Sailors.—Man with bears

and dancing dogs.—Showmen.—Gipsies, with their character and
occupation.—Gipsies in Spain.—Gipsy girl—Gipsy adventure

CHAPTER XIX.
LONELY PLACES IN THE COUNTRY.

Lonely houses.—Lonely lanes.—Lonely pools.—Lonely clumps of
trees.—Taggard’s Tump.—The cluster of elms.—The school girls.
—The piefinch.—Robert Andrews.—Alice and her lover.—The
robbers.—The wounded horseman.—The booty.—The quarrel.—
The widow Allen.—The idiot boy.—Above the stars

PAGE

98

107

113

119

127
xX CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XX.
SOMETHING ABOUT WOODS AND COPPICES.

Entrance of the coppice.—The shade, the sylvan seclusion of the
leafy labyrinth, and the wild wilderness of young trees.—F lowers.—
Cottage children.—Gathering nuts—Fall of the leaf— The
wood.—The giant trees.—Productiveness of the oak.—The
adder.—The varied tones of trees in the wind.—The storm

CHAPTER XXI.
COUNTRY SPORTS AND EMPLOYMENTS.

By appropriating the gifts of creation we increase their value.—
Pastimes of the common people influenced by the amusements of
their superiors.—Jousts, tourneys, and running at the quintain.—
Wrestling. —Quoits.—Skittles —Cricket.—Fishing.— Archery.—
Sporting terms.—Boating.—Skating —Sketching.—Botanising.—
Gardening. —Walking . : : ; :

CHAPTER XXII.
CHARACTERS TO BE MET WITH IN THE COUNTRY.

Travellers.—Men of science.—Painters.—Literary characters.—
Military and naval officers.— Influence of a visit at a hospitable
farm-house.—The Major and the hawk.—The exciseman, clerk,
lawyer, doctor, and village pastor

CHAPTER XXIII.
COUNTRY PICKINGS KNOWN TO EVERYBODY.

All seasons of the year grateful to a lover of nature.—Influence of
sylvan scenery.—Nature is ever beautiful.—The stone quarry.—
The glow-worm.—Cattle among the buttercups.—The way-side
spring —Lambs at play.—The rookery.—Coppices.—The gnarled
old oak.—The secluded lane.—Moss-covered walls.—Violet
banks.—Old ruins .

PAGE

136

145

153

160
CONTENTS. xl

PAGE

CHAPTER XXIV.
THE CAPLER WOOD ROBBERS.

A cheerless autumnal night.—The alarm.—The gang of gipsies.—
The supposed murderers.—The ruffian at the house of Molly
Prosser.—Preparation to pursue the gang.—Bradeley Coppice and
the fields.—Capler Wood.—The shrill whistle-—The gipsy rob-
bers found.—The dark shed and the furious bull-dog.—The
summons.—The dark shed entered.—The capture. ° . 166

CHAPTER XXV.
COUNTRY SIGHTS AND SOUNDS.

The love of natural scenery favourable to cheerfulness, virtue, and
piety.—A rural scene is a library.—Pleasant scenes in the
country.—Riotous noises in the farm-yard.—Sounds in the fields.
—The rookery—The warbling of birds—The voice of the
thunder storm, and the whispering of the breeze ; ° .. a

CHAPTER XXVI.
THE OLD CHURCH PORCH.

Aged country people.—Their quaintness and quietude.—The village
churchyard.—The old church porch.—The aged rustic’s narrative.
—The group of graves.—Abel Haycroft and his three sons,
Ambrose, Gideon, and Gregory—Ambrose goes to sea and
returns.—Gideon goes abroad and comes back.—Gregory receives
them both.—Death of the two brothers, Ambrose and Gideon.—
Gregory, the aged rustic, finishes his story ‘ : ; - 181

CHAPTER XXVII.
THE VILLAGE INN.

Rural scenes, however varied and variable, are essentially the same.
—Jeremy Taylor’s description of the rising sun—Sketch of sum-
mer.—The softening effect of distance on a landscape.—The beer-
shop.—The Village Inn.—Its attractions.—lIts occasional visitors.
—-Poor Mary : ‘ : : ; ° ° : . 189
xll CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XXVIII.
CHANGE AND VARIETY IN RURAL SCENERY.

_ Rural changes.—Reflections.—The frosty morning.—The elm, the
birch, and the holly.—The copses, the sand-bank, and the valley.
__Horses, cattle, sheep, colts, and pointer dog.—The covered wag-
gon.—The stage coach.—The pedlar and the Irish tramper.—Boys
sliding —Tracks in the snow.—Peggy and her patten.—The
hawthorn and spring.—The pollard oak.—The field, the lane, the
coppice, and the common ; ° °

CHAPTER XXIX.
MOSSY BANKS AND GURGLING STREAMS.

Soothing influence of rural scenes. —Goodness of God set forth in the
harmony, peacefulness, and beauty of creation.—The retired
valley—The wood.—The brook.—The pools.—The falls. —
Mossy banks and gurgling streams.— Miniature cavern.— Wayside
objects. —Christmas.—Old observances. —The village church

CHAPTER XXX.

RURAL PICTURES.

The homestead of Luke Holmes.—The ruined thatch, broken win-
dows, shattered cart, and empty rick-yard.—Old Dinger.—The
Fifth of November bonfire.—Feeding the poultry.—The last
load.—The thrasher.—The rainbow.—The woodman.—The rimy
morning. —The rising sun.— Hunting scene.—Sun-set.—Re-
flections ° ; ; ° ;

PAGE

196

203
RURAL PICKINGS.

CHAPTER I.

———
INTRODUCTORY.

‘THERE is something to be blamed or pitied in that heart,

which feels not a warmer glow, and beats not with a bolder
throb when under the influence of rural scenes. Youth and
manhood delight in the country, while childhood absolutely
revels there. Even Old Age himself, almost forgetting the
wrinkles on his brow, and the rheumatism in his limbs, is
ready to skip in the gaiety of his heart, while he breathes
the fresh air, gazes on the green fields, and calls to his
remembrance the exploits of his boyhood.

Again his childish days afford him joy,
And pleasant thoughts—again he is a boy!

As my book will appeal rather to the heart than to the
head, so sentimentality must give place to the healthy
freshness of natural feeling. I cannot promise you much
of a treat in the way of sighing over “ faded flowers,” and
apostrophising “babbling streams ;” but I will do my best
to set your pulse throbbing among the bright breezy hills

B
2 RURAL PICKINGS.

and the sweet, secluded, bird-singing, heart-expanding val-
leys of rural scenery.

I will set before you, in such language as I may, rustic
occupations, the rich garniture of fields, the goodly foliage
of trees, the beauty of buds and blossoms, the sparkling
of running brooks, the warbling of the feathery world, the
fair forms of hills and valleys, the bright gleams of sun-
sets, and the brighter glories of sun-risings. I will take
you to scenes of rural seclusion, of dark and shadowy nooks,
of wild boughs hanging over gurgling streams, of woods
of giant trees, and hazel copses rich with clustering nuts ;
of mossy banks sprinkled with primroses; of old stone
quarries and grey cliffs hung with creepers, ivy, and lichens ;
of thorn bushes garlanded with wild convolvulus and red and
yellow poison-berries ; of tangled wildernesses of gorse,
fern, and fox-glove. You shall see Nature in her glory
and her gloom; hear her in the silent eloquence of her
solitude, and feel her influence in every hour.

Many have gone before me in describing rural scenery,
and others will follow me in the same alluring enterprise ;
but Nature is a wide field in which all may wander, and
each find something novel to admire. He that roams
in the rich luxuriance of country scenes, with a love of
what is sweet and simple, as well as what is arresting
and sublime; and is content to express faithfully the
joyous emotions of his mind, the gushing gladness of his
spirit, in natural language, can hardly fail in affording
pleasure.

The lover of nature has an inexhaustible treasure in the
common things of creation. His enjoyments flow not
from one part of rural influences, but from all. To him
the air is health, the wind is music, the flowers are pearls,
the fruits a banquet, and the burst of glowing sights and
INTRODUCTION. 3

harmonious sounds that appeal at once to his eye, his ear,
and his heart, create in him a jubilee of joy.
“ God has not given
This passion to the heart of man in vain,

This love of earth’s green face, and air of heaven,
And all the bliss of Nature’s rustic reign.”

For it is a source of wealth; not the wealth of the coffer,
but of the heart. It makes man rich in the love of beauty ;
rich in the quiet delights of solitude; rich in sweet and
_ kindly thoughts; rich in yearnings and aspirations after
purity and knowledge; and rich in desires for the hap-
piness of all creatures. It breaks up the deep fountain of
his affections, binding him in closer brotherhood to his kind,
and awakening in his soul a warmer, a purer, and a holier
thanksgiving to God.

—4¢——

BQ
CRIES

CHAPTER II.

—_-—.

SOLITARY RAMBLING IN COUNTRY PLACES.

Companionship in trees—Communings with the earth and skies.—Grate-
ful influence of a country walk.—Solitary paths.—Green lanes.—The
park.—The antique manor-house.—The high hill—The sylvan scene.
—Rural influences—Country and city pleasures contrasted.—The
country girl.

FE who has increased the joy of those around him, has
done some service to his kind. To be happy and to
make others happy; to point out what is fair and beautiful
in the world, and to call forth the strong sympathy of
kindred spirits, is a blissful privilege that a friendly and
nature-loving heart will highly prize. There are those
who know not the value of their possessions in the natural
creation, and who have never heard of

“ Poets making earth aware
Of all its wealth in good and fair.”

Such should be reminded that for them the sun shines,
the dew falls, the flowers spring, and the rural world is
arrayed with beauty. .

Who, having a mind capable of observation and reflec-
tion, has ever indulged in a country walk without adding
to his peace and joy! To be alone amongst Nature's
works, is not to be lonely. There is a companionship in
the trees and hedge-rows ; there are communings of thought
SOLITARY RAMBLING IN COUNTRY PLACES. 5

with the heavens and the earth, with the birds, insects,
and flowers, which beguile the mind of its cares, and add
to its happiness. Do you doubt this? Set your foot in the
shadowy lane; climb the stile into the fields; get among the
buttercups and the daffodils, and you will doubt it no longer.

Is your heart but ill at ease? Are yousad? Then get
into the green fields. As you leave behind you the habita-
tions of men, the oppression on your spirits will gradually
lighten. You will have liberty to indulge your woe, for no
_ one will be the witness of your anxiety ; but this very liberty
to be sad will make you more cheerful. As the air comes
wildly around you, you will breathe more freely, and your
restraint and your moodiness will take wing together.
The chirping of birds will invite, nay, persuade you to be
happy. ‘The trees, beautiful in form, and varied in leaf
and colour, some magnificently grand in height, some
heavily hung with verdure, and some of delicate spray and
foliage of feathery lightness, casting their shadows on the
green turf, will allure you from the sunny glare, so that you
may revel in the shade and look upwards with thankfulness,
and without being blinded by the mid-day blaze.

As you proceed, refreshed by the temporary shade, the
clear, blue sky, and the vegetable world, reflected in the
water, will arrest your admiring eye, and wake you with
wonder and delight. Nor will the soft grass beneath your
feet be without its influence on your heart, nor the insect
world on the wing, buzzing, fluttering, or dancing in the
air, fail to excite gladdening emotions ; the eye, the ear, and
the heart will all share the general jubilee, till unconsciously
you will find yourself humming a lively tune, or singing a
hymn of thanksgiving.

‘ Hope her sweetest flowers shall bring,
And Joy shall sport with sunny wing.
6 RURAL PICKINGS.

It may be, too, that at the close of your delightful wan-
derings, you may meet with one of kindred spirit, who will
love to listen to your glowing descriptions of all that you
have heard, and seen, and felt, and who, moved by the
eloquence of your heart and tongue, will agree with you
that of all walks, a walk in the country, whether solitary
or social, is the least lonely, and the most delightful.

But why do I speak as though you were a stranger to
rurality, when I ought rather to take it for granted that you
are a lover of Nature, and have wandered, freely as myself,
her loneliest and loveliest scenes !

No doubt you have walked abroad in the country in soli-
tary paths, when your foot has shaken the dew from the
spangled fern, and when the bright sun has flashed through
the crooked branches and dark-green leaves above your head.
You have scared the solitary owl from the hollow oak, and
the timid hare from her form beneath the furze-bush, paus-
ing a moment to watch the heavy flight of the one to the
wood, and the nimble escape of the other to the coppice.

You have wandered down the green lane, narrow, and
overhung with branches, when the piebald magpie has win-
nowed his way chattering, to the upper boughs of the tall
ash, and the blackbird with rapid wing has buried himself
‘n the brake, taking your course to the green-mantled pond
-» the hollow at the bottom of the broken ridge.

You have walked among the sere rustling leaves, and
seated yourself on the ivyed trunk of the fallen tree, gazing
on the water, while the fish have leaped up to catch the
gnats and flies on its surface. A moor-hen has suddenly
appeared from the hollow of the bank, a water-rat has
plunged to the bottom of the pond, and a widgeon has pad-
dled along between the bulrushes and the broad flat leaves
of the water-lily.
SOLITARY RAMBLING IN COUNTRY PLACES. 7

You have rambled in the park among the dry fern, and
under the hollow oaks, when the timid fawn has started off
to the distant herd, and the antlered stag has turned
towards you his proud head and branched horns, as if ques-
tioning your right to trespass on his territory. You have
gazed on the antique pile, the stately manor-house with its
wide-spread wings, ivy-clustered walls, and spacious courts,
quiet and partly grass-grown, as though they had been left
much to themselves. ‘The ancient hall, though not tenant-
less, has appeared deserted; though not a ruin, it has had
a ruinous aspect, as if it had outlived its day, and belonged
to a period of time long passed by.

You have mounted the high hill and gazed on the bound-
less prospect of fields and farms, woods and running waters,
church spires, villages, and distant mountains. You have
seen the beauty of sylvan scenes, felt the luxury of repose,
and drunk in the soothing influence of solitude, silence, and
meditation. Little have you recked the haunts of busy
life, little have you desired the hubbub of the distant city.
Escaped from noise and turmoil and care, you have gra-
dually given way to the delightful, calm, and quiet enjoyment,
that by degrees has sunk into your very soul.

How lowly, in such seasons, have you estimated riches,
and luxury, and renown; how hateful appeared to you
injustice, oppression, and cruelty, and how much in unison
with your affections were pity, and charity, and kindness,
and love, and thankfulness, and praise. |

In such a scene, in such a time, and in such a mood of
mind, you have had crowding upon you a lovely cluster of
rural influences in sweet confusion, in which different sea-
sons were mingled; green grass and verdant foliage ; cot-
tages with vine-clad walls; oaks and elms casting their
shadows over half an acre. Cowslip meadows, violet banks,
8 RURAL PICKINGS.

and broken ground, rich with the yellow furze and purple
foxglove ; hill and common decked with the crimson heath-
bell; birch trees with silvery bark ; soft moss, dried fern,
the warbling of birds, the breathing of the scented gale, the
odour of the burning peat, the blue heavens bright and
beautiful, and the golden glory of the setting sun.

One half the things we prize in the crowded city are will-
ingly resigned in the country for the unbroken quietude
and undisturbed peace which are there enjoyed. In the
city we seek our pleasure, and provoke our delight, but in
rural scenes our enjoyments come uncalled around us, and
gently take possession of our hearts. City pleasures ener-
vate us by their excitement—country pleasures strengthen
us by their sweetness and repose.

In rural scenes we wander without restraint ; we have no
need to pay particular attention to our dress, we have no
fine speeches to make, and no etiquette to observe. We go
on, or we stop as we list ; converse with those we meet, or”
pass them by at our pleasure ; muse, moralise, and sketch
with our pencil or pen just as we feel inclined.

Leisure and Ease lead on the tranquil hours,
And Pleasure guides us to his fairy bowers.

But now let me sketch you a country girl from the life ;
little did she think, when first she caught my attention at
the brook, that any eye was fixed upon her, still less that
she should ever figure away in print. When people sit for
their pictures, no wonder that they set themselves in stiff
and unnatural attitudes; give me asketch from unconscious
nature. I saw my country girl through a hawthorn hedge,
when she dreamed not that any one was near.

See you the cottage on the rising slope at the corner of
the coppice, where the thin, blue smoke is losing itself
SOLITARY RAMBLING IN COUNTRY PLACES. 9

among the topmost branches of the trees? Picturesque as
it is, it is much more to be admired as the subject fora
sketch, than as a place of abode, for the thatched roof is old
and uneven, the rooms are small and dark, and the whole
tenement would be better for repair; the very rabbit-pens
are in crazy keeping with the cottage, and the bee-hives in
the garden look as if a blast would blow them down. But
the country girl! the country girl!

The country girl, in coarse clothing, filling her pitcher,
there, at the brook, suits the scene better than if she were
gaily attired. Like the rest of the world, she lightly values
the blessings she enjoys. What is within our reach is too
common-place to be estimated highly ; she thinks not of the
‘pure and healthy air she breathes, nor knows she the worth
of the clear, fresh, tasteless water in which she is dipping
her pitcher. Those who are pent up in the smoky city
know the worth of these things. Mankind are unlike the
fox in the fable, who called the grapes sour which he could
not reach. Had a man been in Reynard’s situation, he
would have ranked the unattainable clusters as among the
choicest fruit of the vintage. After all, however, the under-
valuing of the grapes on the part of Reynard was only
assumed, so that men and foxes are more alike than I at
first imagined.

But again I am wandering from the country girl, who is
well worthy our best regard, for Sarah Cummins is a praise-
worthy character, and young and small in stature as she is,
think not that she is a cipher in her father’s cottage. Even
now its comforts depend much on her care, for her parents
are away at work in the fields, and she is left in charge of
the younger children.

What mischief might not ensue in that humble abode,
were it not for Sarah’s superintendence! She has left the
10 RURAL PICKINGS.

baby asleep in the cradle, and invested a younger sister with
brief authority over the household, whilst she is gone forth
to fill the water-pitcher, but she will resume her rank the
instant she returns to the dwelling, for she is somewhat
proud of power, though she does not abuse it, and assumes
her mother’s manners when the cottage is left to her care.

Her parents feel little anxiety about their children while
away, for they know that Sarah will see to everything, and
prevent accidents from falls or fire. She began to practise
so early, that she is likely to become an adept in domestic
duties; as it is, she can cook coarse dishes, and already is
she promised a place at the squire’s when old enough to
take it. This will give a wide field for fresh acquirements.
But the cottage roof does not cover her skill, for, now and
then she toils with her mother in the fields, and twice has
she attended market at the neighbouring town. Besides all
this, Sarah learns at the Sunday school what her parents
cannot teach her. Though her father sings rude songs, she
carols sweet hymns; though he spells old newspapers bor-
rowed from the public-house, she reads her Testament and
little books lent by her teachers. Her mother listens when
she reads, and her father does not oppose it, having sense
enough to see that such exercises are good for his child.
Even in his cups has he been heard to boast that “ Sally
is a sober lass, and given to goodly ways.”

There are three or four pictures against the cottage walls,
but Sarah’s sampler is worth them all put together. It
hangs opposite the window, and is, like other cottage sam-
plers, profusely adorned with green fir-trees, parrots with
twin cherries in their beaks, and a scroll border. Nor is
Sarah without her jewels, though that name will rather
apply to the store she sets by them, than to the value of the
simple articles themselves. Among these is a small
SOLITARY RAMBLING IN COUNTRY PLACES. 11

enamelled box an inch and a half long, with the well-known

distich thereon,
“ The gift is small,
But friendship ’s all.”

This box contains a very shabby pair of gilt ear-rings,
and Sarah thinks it not altogether impossible that she may
one day wear them. There is also a green smelling-bottle,
sundry bits of lace, ribbon, and black satin, a shilling of
very doubtful character, a new penny, and a crooked six-
pence, besides a pincushion, needle-case, and silver thimble.

Sarah is certainly notable as a workwoman, but yet, after
all, she is fond of a little trifling. Three times, while I have
been peeping at her, has she held up her full pitcher on
high, to empty it playfully into the brook, watching the sil
very descending stream, and enjoying the light below in the
agitated waters; and twice has she set down her jug to
throw a pebble-stone at a water-rat under the roots on the
bank of the stream. At length the cares of the cottage
call her away. She has once more filled her pitcher, and
is now hastening back to her domestic duties, with one
arm stretched out towards the horizon, by way of counter-
poise, while the other is borne down by the weight of her

heavy jug.

a
SS —Sa-—

CHAPTER III.

Ea
COUNTRY RIDES AND DRIVES.

Delights of riding and driving in the country.—The ‘wooded hill—the
open common—the shady avenue.—High banks—hedges—and green
pastures.—The blackbird, hare, and pheasant.—The windmill.—The
miller—The mishap.—The countryman.—The errand woman.—The
group of children. —The shower.—The public-house.—The pot-house.—
The setting sun.

OW pleasant are country rides and drives, and what de-
lightful country pickings they set before you! Freed
from the dust and pebbles below you, and from all the
fatigues and vexations of the turnpike-road pedestrian, you
luxuriate in the prospects far and near. Standing up in
your gig, or if on horseback in your stirrups, you peep over
hedges and walls, and into farm-yards and interesting places,
with which those who trudge it have no chance of becoming
acquainted ; now slowly ascending the wooded hill, or steep
ascent to the open common, and now dashing along the level
road under the shady avenue at full speed, doubting not that
your horse, and almost including your gig also, is as happy
as yourself. Who does not like country rides?

There is life, animation, and excitement in the spirited
courage of your horse, and in the rapid whirling of your
gig wheels. However far you have to go, you arrive at your
destination pleased and delighted, the very pink of perfec-
tion and wall-flower of content, fresher than when you set
COUNTRY RIDES AND DRIVES. 13

out, whereas the poor pedestrian may reach home, hours
afterwards, foot-sore and discontented, having undergone
vexation enough to sour his temper for the rest of the day.

How pleasant are country rides and drives! Now we
stop the gig to pluck a beautiful wild flower growing on a
high bank just within our reach, and now we drive up close
to the side of a hedge to gaze on the sheep with their tink-
ling bells, and the cattle reposing in the green pasture-lands
beyond. Here a blackbird, seen in the retired lane, sud-
denly disappears in the brake ; there a timid hare starts from
her form in the furze bush; and yonder, heavily and some-
what majestically, rises the fair-plumed pheasant in the air.
Flowers, hedges, meadows, fields, cows, and sheep, black-
birds, hares, and pheasants, all have an interest in our eyes.

At one time we pass a windmill, and enter into friendly
conversation with the miller, who is just coming out with his
cart loaded with sacks of flour; whether we should do the
same thing if we met him in Bond-street, I cannot say,
however we are ready enough to converse with him now.
He turns out to be a shrewd, companionable man, and we
oblige our horse, a fine-built sleek-hided spirited animal, of
course, good in his appearance, paces, and everything else,
to accommodate himself to the pace of his rougher com-
panion, whom our friend the miller praises to the skies.

Of course we gain much information respecting the mill,
and the farm-houses in the neighbourhood, and the nearest
market, and the lanes and woods, and then turn off upon the
miller’s recommendation, to the left, where soon the road
branches out, as all country roads do, in different direc-
tions. We foolishly take the narrowest, for without some
mistake, or some little disaster, even a country ride or drive
would lose much of its interest. The road suddenly bends
to the left, in a way sufficiently circular to admonish us not
14 RURAL PICKINGS.

to pursue it, unless we desire to return once more to the
windmill. Cooped up more narrowly than we like, with a
fine, luxuriant, dry, green ditch on either hand, we do our
best to turn round our vehicle—we succeed in getting into
one of the ditches, and almost in being overturned, though
we do not succeed in turning round the gig. Our horse is
ardent to go forwards, but instead of this he is compelled to
go backwards to the branching off of the lane, which so
chafes and exasperates him, that he plays us many a prank
in return.

On we go again—now in & deep hollow way, and now on a
hill. Now our horse’s hoofs scatter the loose stones in places
where the road has been mended, and now our wheels rumble
over the wooden bridge. Nor do we fail to excite some
attention ; a countryman touches his hat as we whirl by
him ; an errand-woman laden with her full basket, mop and
broom, drops us a courtesy; a group of children give over
their. play to admire us; a mother hastily snatches up
her bairn by one arm, lest it should be Juggernauted, and
the stone-breaker by the way-side suspends his clinking,
honours us with his especial regard, and resumes his labour
only when we are out of sight.

And now it begins to rain, why should it not! Many
worse things in the world than a shower! and this is just
such a shower as it should be; just enough to frighten us
with the prospect of wet coats and saturated gig cushions ;
just enough to freshen up the trees and hedges with a deeper
green; and just enough to make us enjoy, ten times more
than we otherwise should, the sunshine that is about to
follow. We pity the poor, half-drowned, draggled-tail pedes-
trians that we pass, and draw a comparison much in our
own favour. ‘The rain at last ceases, the sun breaks out,
and we dash on merrily, forgetting our troubles, pulling up
COUNTRY RIDES AND DRIVES. 15

after a delightful ride, at a way-side public-house, the Royal
Oak, where all is cleanliness and comfort. The hostler,
as if he expected us, stands ready to take our steed; we are
won, at once, by the civility of our host and hostess. We
cannot make it out why eggs and bacon are always so much
better at a public-house than at home, and we wonder how
the landlord can “make both ends meet,” charging as he
does so unreasonably reasonable.

How different is the clean, comfortable public-house, on
_ which we have happily lighted, to the pot-house we remem-
ber to have seen.

There sots and drunkards in their brawls,
Have pulled the plaster from the walls,
And ale and gin, and potent fume

Of vile tobacco, scent the room.

There orange-peel is freely spread,

And nut-shells crack beneath the tread ;
And shattered furniture express
Debauch and riot and excess.

Torn all to tatters and unclean

The last week’s news perchance is seen,
With benches in disorder laid,

A door be-chalked with debts unpaid,

A table flooded o’er with beer,

A broken jug and backless chair,
Unclean spittoons, a spill-can stored
With brimstone matches, and a board
For cribbage and back-gammon’s game ;
A ceiling smoked with candle flame ;

A pack of cards dispersed around,

The knave of clubs upon the ground,
Where broken pipes together vie,

And songs and saw-dust mingled lie.
Filled with tobacco yonder stands,
Receptacle of filthy hands,
16 RURAL PICKINGS.

A box, whereon some son of rhyme
Has thus inscribed his verse sublime,
« A halfpenny pay before you fill,
Or forfeit sixpence, which you will.”

We leave the public-house, the home-brewed ale has
warmed our hearts, the corn has given courage to our horse.
Again we are on the whirl! How pleasant are country
rides and drives! All disagreeables turn to pleasures ; the
freshness of the air, the glowing west, the sounds that meet
us at every turn, the farm-house, hay-field, meadow, dell
and hollow, with the old hovel and crooked crabtree—all
have separate charms as we hasten by them.

We have freely parted with a few sixpences, for a girl
has opened for us a gate, a boy has picked up our whip, and
sundry others have directed us in our course; We have
hurried and loitered, and stopped and proceeded, as the
whim prevailed, till the sun is setting in all his glory.
On we go, crossing the long shadows of the trees; the
night-breeze is beginning to rustle among the leaves, and
distant objects seen against the red glare of the western
sky look dark, and near, and present a distinct outline.
On we go; in another hour the picture we gaze on will be
illumined no longer; even now

“ Heaven unbinding her star-braided hair
Sinks down to repose on the earth and the sea,”

How pleasant are country rides and drives !
1a

CHAPTER IV.



FARM-HOUSES AND FARMERS,

Contrast between a country farmer and a city tradesman.—F arm houses.

—Stone walls.—Gables.—Pointed roofs.—High and heavy chimneys.—
Oaken door studded with iron.—Porch fitted up with settles—A
farmer’s homestead, fold-yard, and rick-yard.—Rural picture by Pratt.—
The farmer and his visitor—Howitt’s description of farm-houses and
farmers.—The dinner party.

‘THERE is this striking difference between a farmer, and

a town or city tradesman, that while the latter makes
present sacrifices for a future advantage, the former enjoys
the best things of life as he goes along. The tradesman
will put up from youth to age with small premises, bad air,
scanty meals, and late hours, that he may hoard up wealth,
all which time the farmer is living in a large house, and
enjoying health, peace, plenty, fresh air, pure water, sun-
shine, green fields, singing birds and flowers. Parks and
palaces, and large libraries, and learned men, and picture
galleries, and squares and carriages, and gay equipages he
wants not; and if he have not the follies, the finery, and
the wonderful sights of the city, he reads about them in the
newspaper and laughs at them. Give him his friend, his
jug of brown ale, his pipe, and the “ Farmer’s Journal,” and
he is as happy—aye, and a great deal happier—than
the Lord Mayor at the Mansion House. True, he is a

c
18 RURAL PICKINGS.

«country bumpkin,” and a “clodhopper,” and he knows
that he is called so, and repays the joke with usury ; for
never do the walls of his kitchen, or of his snug smoking
parlour, ring with a heartier roar, than when he is laughing
at ‘those chaps, the kid-gloved, silk-stockinged, dandified
men-milliners of the city.”

I never look at a farm-house, whether it be a substantial
puilding of old gray stone, with no end of odd gables and
pointed roofs, and stacks of high and heavy chimneys; or of
moss-grown brick, looking as ancient as stone ; whether it
have windows with stone mullions and diamond panes, an
oaken door studded with iron, and a porch fitted up with
settles ; or is somewhat more modern in its general appear-
ance, with its rick-yard, fold-yard, stables, barns, sheds,
granaries, piggeries, and poultry-pens ; I never look at such
a building, without taking it for granted that the farmer
who lives there, whether he be tall or short, stout or slender,
is a blunt, honest, hard-working man, independent in his
spirit, tenacious in his opinion, open as daylight, and un-
bounded in his hospitality. .

A farmer’s homestead of the better sort, with its spacious
fold-yard of clean straw, and its ample rick-yard of wheat,
barley, oats, beans, and hay, is certainly a heart-gladdening
sight—a horse-prancing, cattle-lowing, pig-squealing, turkey-
gabbling, poultry-cackling prince of a place, and the farmer
is just the very man that ought to own such an establish-
ment. But, though this is the case, the poet and the
philanthropist cry aloud—and they say with some reason
against large farms; and the former paint lovely rural
pictures of times gone by, that are framed, if not glazed,
and hung up in memory’s hall. Such a one is the follow-
ing, painted by Pratt, in his “ Cottage Pictures :'—
FARM-HOUSES AND FARMERS. 19

Time was, when twice ten husbandmen were fed,
And all their wholesome progeny found bread,
And a soft home, each in his modest farm,

By tillage of those lands, and raiment warm ;
Then took at plough the son and sire their turn,
The wife then milk’d the cow, and work’d the churn ;
And many a mile the daughter trudged with ease,
To vend her butter, chickens, eggs, and cheese ;
And, home returning, heavy laden, brought

Full many an article at market bought ;

And though she bow’d beneath her basket’s weight,
Would blithely sing the country maiden’s fate ;
And haply too, the swain, who ambush’d lay,

To ease her load, would join her on the way :
Well-pleased was he, that useful load to bear,

Yet saw, with fond presage, the damsel’s care :

Of future helpmate there good signs were shown,
And, as he smiled, he mark’d her for his own ;
Whisper’d his wish to share her toils for life,
Purchased the sacred ring, and call’d her wife. .

Nor came she portionless, nor to his arms
Brought only innocence, and native charms,
Though love’s blest wealth—but kin, on either side,
Enrich’d the bridegroom, and endow’d the bride !
Of kine a pair to each, of sheep a score,

The parents furnish’d from their well-earn’d store ;
A waggon one, and one a team bestow’d,

While from the heart’s pure source each love-gift flow’d :
Of linen, too, a stock, and spun at home ;

And a best bed, to deck the nuptial room ;

The quilt and curtains by the matron wrought,
And nothing but the wood and ticking bought ;
From their well-feather’d flock the pillows down,
And all the toilet ornaments their own :

The polish’d looking-glass and pictures gay,

For parlour, used alone on holyday,

c 2
20 RURAL PICKINGS.

Or Christmas time, or merry-making sweet,

When the kind landlord deign’d to share the treat 5
And joy’d to see the harvest-barn was fill’d,

And felt at heart how well his farm was till’d :

His little farm, which ease and health display’d,
And happy tenants, happy landlords made.

The farmer is fond of a visitor, and he loves to walk
over his lands with him, and show him his stock, and talk
of his drainage, his grass, his turnips, and his growing corn ;
and this he does with the most perfect civility and good
humour, though any one accustomed to read human cha-
racter cannot help seeing that he undervalues his guest if
he happen to be ignorant of farming. With the currier in
the fable, nothing was “ like leather ;” and with the farmer
nothing is like farming. He will enjoy your company, if you
make yourself agreeable ; laugh at your jokes, if you have
any to crack; and listen to your pook learning with respect, if
you carry him out of his depth ; but in the midst of all, you
are evidently deficient in what a man ought to know. What
can a man be good for who knows not how to grow a turnip?

William Howitt—and here, though he be unknown to
me, let me offer him a word of honest praise ; for whether
roaming the stormy fields of Culloden, Flodden, and Edg-
hill—visiting Hampton Court and Stonyhurst—indulging
a rapturous reverie at Tintagel—strolling through Staffa
and Iona, Bolton Priory, Coombe Abbey, and Walton Hal?
_carried away by the architecture of Winchester, the
associations of Stratford-on-Avon, and the retired loneliness
of Compton-Winyates, or revelling in rural scenery, the
same clearness of intellect, elasticity of spirit, and ardent
love of nature, art, and antiquity are in him ever visible—
William Howitt, than whom a more truthful or more
graphic writer on rural scenes is not to be found, says :—
FARM-HOUSES AND FARMERS. ' 2a

“There is no class of men, if times are but tolerably
good, that enjoy themselves so highly as farmers. They
are little kings. Their concerns are not huddled into a
corner as those of the town tradesman are. The farmer's
concerns, however small, spread themselves out in a
pleasant amplitude, both to his eye and heart. His house
stands in its own stately solitude ; his offices and outhouses
stand round extensively, without any stubborn and limiting
contraction ; his acres stretch over hill and dale; there his
flocks and herds are feeding; there his labourers are
toiling ; he is king and sole commander there. He lives
amongst the purest air and the most delicious quiet. Often
when I see those healthy, hardy, full-grown sons of the soil
going out of town, I envy them the freshness and the
repose of the spots to which they are going. Ample, old-
fashioned kitchens, with their chimney-corners of the true,
projecting, beamed, and seated construction, still remaining ;
blazing fires in winter, shining on suspended hams and
flitches; guns supported on hooks above, dogs basking on
the hearth below; cool, shady parlours in summer, with
open windows, and odours from garden and shrubbery
blowing in; gardens wet with purest dews, and humming
at noontide with bees ; and green fields and verdurous trees,
or deep woodlands lying all round, where a hundred re-
joicing voices of birds or other creatures are heard, and
winds blow to and fro, full of health and life-enjoyment.
How enviable do such places seem to the fretted spirits
of towns, who are compelled not only to bear their burthen
of cares, but to enter daily into the public strife against
selfish, evil, and ever-spreading corruption.

‘* When one calls to mind the simple abundance of farm-
houses, their rich cream and milk, and unadulterated butter,
and bread grown upon their own lands, sweet as that which
22 RURAL PICKINGS.

Christ broke, and blessed as he gave to his disciples; their
fruits ripe and fresh-plucked from the sunny wall, or the
garden bed, or the pleasant old orchard ; when one casts
one’s eyes upon, or calls to one’s memory, the aspect of
these houses, many of them so antiquely picturesque, or SO
pright-looking and comfortable, in deep retired valleys, by
beautiful streams, or amongst fragrant woodlands, one can-
not help saying, with King James of Scotland, when he met
Johnny Armstrong :—

‘What want these knaves that a king should have ?’

« But they are not outward and surrounding advantages
merely, which give zest to the life of the farmer. He is
more proud of it, and more attached to it, than any other
class of men, be they whom they may, are of theirs. The
whole heart, soul, and being of the farmer are in his pro-
fession.

“The farmer invites his friends to dine with him. He
will have a party. The guests have been enjoined to come
early, and they come early with a vengeance. They will
not come as the guests of night-loving citizens and aristo-
erats come, at from six to nine in the evening ;—no, at ten
and eleven in the morning you shall see their faces, that
never yet were ashamed of daylight, and that tell of fresh
air and early hours. Then come rattling in sundry vehicles,
with their cargoes of men and women ; lively salutations
are exchanged ; the horses are led away to the stables, and
the guests into the house, to doff great-coats and cloaks,
hats and bonnets, and sit down to luncheon. And there it
is, ready set out. ‘They Il want something after their
drive,’ says the host. ‘To be sure,’ says the hostess.
And there is plenty in truth. A boiled ham, a neat’s
tongue; a piece of cold beef; fowls and beef-steak pie ;
FARM-HOUSES AND FARMERS. 23

tarts and bread, cheese and butter; coffee for the ladies,
and fine old ale for the gentlemen.

“The dinner hour arrives; and a sound of loud voices
somewhere at hand announces that our agricultural friends
are returned punctually to their time, with many a joke on
their fears of the ladies’ tongues. Not that they seemed to
want any dinner—no, they made such a luncheon; but
they had such a natural fear of being scolded. Well, here
they all are; and here are the ladies,_all in full dress.
“Hands that have been handling prime stock, or rooting in
the earth, or thrust into hay-ricks and corn-heaps, are
washed, and down they sit to such a dinner as might satisfy
a crew of shipwrecked men. There are seldom any of your
‘wishy-washy soups,’ except it be very cold weather, and
seldom more than two courses; but then'they are courses !
All of the meat kind seems set on the table at once. Off
go the covers, and what a perplexing, but unconsumable
variety! Such pieces of roast beef, veal, and lamb; such
hams, and turkeys, and geese; such game, and pies of
pigeons, or other things equally good, with vegetables of all
kinds in season—peas, potatoes, cauliflowers, kidney-beans,
lettuces, and whatever the season can produce. The most
potent of ale and porter, the most crystalline and cool water
are freely supplied, and wine for those that will. When
these things have had ample respect paid to them, they
vanish, and the table is covered with plum-puddings and
fruit-tarts, cheesecakes, syllabubs, and all the nicknackery
of whipped creams and jellies that female invention can
produce. And then a dessert of equal profusion. Why
should we tantalise ourselves with the vision of all those
nuts, walnuts, almonds, raisins, fruits, and confections ?
Enough that they are there; that the wine circulates—
24 RURAL PICKINGS.

foreign and English, port and sherry, gooseberry and dam-
son, malt and birch, elderflower and cowslip; and loud is
the clamour of voices, male and female. If there be not
quite so much refinement of tone and manner, quite so
much fastidiousness of phrase and action, as in some other
places, there is at least more hearty laughter, more
natural jocularity, and many a

‘Random shot of country wit,’

as Burns calls it. A vast of talk there is of all the country
round; every strange circumstance; every incident and
change of condition, and new alliance amongst their mutual
friends and acquaintances, pass under review. ‘The ladies
withdraw, and the gentlemen draw together ; spirits take
place of wine, and pipes are lighted.

“ But after tea there must be a dance for the young, and
there are cards for the more sedate; and then again, to a
supper as profuse, with its hot game, and fowls, and fresh
pastry, as if it had been the sole meal cooked in the house
that day. The pastor and his company depart ; the wine
and spirits circulate ; all begin to talk of parting, and are
loth to part, till it grows late ; and they have some of them
six or seven miles to go, perhaps on a pitch-dark night,
through by-ways, and with roads not to be boasted of. All
at once, however, up rise the men to go, for their wives,
who asked and looked with imploring eyes in vain, now
show themselves cloaked and bonnetted, and the carriages
are heard with grinding wheels at the door. There is a
boisterous shaking of hands, a score of invitations to come
and do likewise, given to their entertainers, and they mount
and away! When you see the blackness of the night, and
consider that they have not eschewed good liquor, and per-
FARM-HOUSES AND FARMERS. 25

ceive at what a rate they drive away, you expect nothing
less than to hear the next day, that they have dashed their
vehicles to atoms against some post, or precipitated them-
selves into some quarry; but all is right. They best know
their own capabilities, and are at home, safe and sound.

‘Such is a specimen of the festivities of what may be
called the middle and substantial class of farmers; and the
same thing holds, in degree, to the very lowest grade of
them. The smallest farmer will bring you out the very
best he has; he will spare nothing on a holiday occasion ;
and his wife will present you with her simple slice of cake,
and a glass of currant or cowslip wine, with an empresse-
ment, and a welcome that you feel to the heart is real, and
a bestowal of a real pleasure to the offerer.”
<= pe—

CHAPTER V.

———
ON BIRDS, FLOWERS, AND OTHER THINGS.
Sunbeams and sunny scenes.—Tall trees.—The upland lawn.— Morning,
mid-day, and sunset.—The cuckoo, lark, thrush, blackbird, and night-

ingale.—Field flowers. —The heath-flower.—Animals and reptiles.—
Death of a spider.—Sketch in a retired lane.

AND are you really yearning for the calm, the beautiful,
and the delightful? Away then to the country; the
healthy, the pure, the lovely country! Mountain and valley,
hill and slope, river and rivulet, spring and torrent, wood
and down—these, though always varying, are still the same.
“They come forth in the morning as fresh and as beautiful
as on the day of their creation ; their loveliness is eternal,
they are all the handiwork of God, who said that they were
good, and they are good.”

If you love sunbeams, and sunny scenes, and rainbows,
and green and sere leaves, and mossy banks and gushing
waters, and moonlight walks, the country is the only place
where you can enjoy them. There you may revel unwearied
with pleasure, and unsated with varied sweets. To the
country we may say, as we would to a dear friend whom we

love,
| While years in quick succession flee,
Whate’er my end and aim,
While seasons change around, to thee,
“ Je suis toujours le méme.”

Have you never stood among a group of tall trees, and
looked upwards, your eyes wandering in the intricacy of
ON BIRDS, FLOWERS, AND OTHER THINGS. Q7

dark sprays, and of green boughs fluttering in the wind, till
you have longed to be a squirrel, a bird, a bee, or any other
of God's lesser creatures capable of revelling in the leafy
labyrinth above you? If you have not done this, I have
done it repeatedly.

If you have never walked on the upland lawn when sun-
rise with its gorgeous glory has awakened joyous and enthu-
siastic emotions—never sought the shade and shelter of the
wide-spread oak, when the southern sun has flung around
his unbearable beams, gilding the heavens and the earth
with his glory—and never gazed on the western sky glitter-
ing in all the effulgency of the retiring orb of day, feeling
it, enjoying it, revelling in it, till excited with evstasy you
have clasped your hands in thankfulness, and offered the
incense of your heart to the great Giver of sunshine and
sunny thoughts, then you can hardly conceive the delight
that such scenes have the power to call up in the mind.

What a strange sensation of deep-seated joy is that when,
the sun shining gratefully on the rejoicing fields and foliage,
the first note of the cuckoo is heard in the sprig! what by-
gone seasons does it recal! what sweet associations it
awakens !

“ Thrice welcome, darling of the spring !
E’en yet thou art to me
No bird ;—but an invisible thing,
A voice, a mystery !

The same whom in my schoolboy days ;
I listened to :—that cry

Which made me look a thousand ways
In bush, and tree, and sky.

To seek thee did I often rove
Through woods and on the green,

And thou wert still a hope, a love
Still long’d for, never seen.
28 RURAL PICKINGS.

And I can listen to thee yet ;
Can lie upon the plain,

And listen till I do beget
That golden time again.”

Of all the day-singing birds, the lark has the first place in
our affections. His matin song impetuously gushes from
his warbling throat, as though his little heart had more hap-
piness pent up in it than he could bear. Up! up! he goes
as near heaven as he can reach, and had he strength of
wing equal to his ardour, he would present his thanksgiving
at his Maker's throne.

The speckled-breasted thrush, and the blackbird, are
masters of song, and hymn their happiness most harmoni-
ously. Oh, what a robbery would it be to the country to
take away either its fruits, its flowers, its green leaves, or
its singing birds !

We owe much to linnets, bull-finches, gold-finches, and
starlings, for their carolling and daily madrigals, and some-
thing to our favourites the robin and the wren, whose har-
mony is pleasant to our ears. These favoured musicians being
chartered from injury by the hands of man, put confidence
in us, and thereby win our love.

Sparrows, kingfishers, and buntings, with the larger
birds, ravens, rooks, crows, magpies, owls and daws, are not
highly talented in voice, yet are their several notes full of
interest in particular situations. What would the brook be
without a kingfisher ? the grove of elms without a rookery
or crow’s nest ? the barn without an owl? or the church-
spire without a daw? The first of singing birds among us is
the nightingale, and very delightful is her plaintive strain.

«“ Sweet bird, that shunn’st the noise of folly,
Most musical, most melancholy !

Thee, chantress ! oft, the woods among,
I woo to hear thy evening song.”
ON BIRDS, FLOWERS, AND OTHER THINGS. 29

What sweet associations are oftentimes blended with field
flowers! I love the woodbine, and the dog-rose, and the
foxglove, and the corn-flower, and the poppy, but more than
all I love the heath-flower! The purple heath-flower is
associated with a moon and a mountain; a sweet cottage,
by-gone seasons of joy, a book-case ornamented with trellis-
work of brass wire, the portrait of a bard, the sound of a
piano, a mild-looking child, with soft and influential eyes,—
talent, worth, and kindness.

And it breathes of other things to me ;

Of mountain air, and of liberty ;

Of tower, and tree by lightning riven ;

The storm, and the warring wind of heaven ;
Of mossy cairn, and cromlech grey ;

Of mad’ning sounds of feud and fray ;

Of stern contention, hope forlorn,

And banner rent, and tartan torn.

Much might I say of hedgehogs, badgers, and cunning
foxes, hares, rabbits, and half-starved weazels, rats, ferrets,
and drowsy dormice, for in rural life they all perform a part,
as well as the flitting bat and the burrowing mole. Rep-
tiles, also, might be spoken of at length ; scaly snakes, yel-
low frogs, bloated toads, and long-tailed lizards, as well as
the unnumbered insects which abound,—armed hornets,
honey-bees, and stinging-wasps, cockchaffers, glow-worms,
beetles, gnats, and shining dragon-flies, but I will merely
now describe the death of a spider.

The day was a stormy one, for the wind blew in sudden
gusts, while the drenching rain descended without inter-
mission. In passing near a small recess, in part occupied
by a wooden spout, erected for the purpose of conveying
the water from the top of the house into the water-course,
30 | RURAL PICKINGS.

I observed a spider, which had incautiously ventured from
his safe retreat behind the spout. I paused, as with diffi-
culty he dragged himself along towards an oyster-shell,
beneath whose friendly shelter I expected to see him crawl.
Hardly had he strength to reach the shell, for the drops of
rain struck him s0 frequently, knocking him first on one
side, and then on the other, that he was, indeed, in a
pitiable case. Though I pitied, I could not relieve him ;
on he went, weak and staggering, towards the shell.

I have seen horses reel and fall when the death-shot has
passed through their foreheads, and witnessed the stagger-
ing steed, when the pointed weapon has found its way to
his heart: the staggering spider reminded me of these
things. True, the horses were large, and the spider was
small; but the struggle was the death-struggle in both
cases. The oyster-shell was half full of. water, and the
staggering insect, instead of crawling beneath it, ascended
sts side. There was now no hope of escape; he paused a
moment, was again struck by the rain, once more exerted
all his strength to move onward, and then fell into the
watery pond in the oyster-shell, where he was drowned.

I cannot refrain from here introducing a sketch in @
retired lane, by the pen of old Humphrey.

“There was a keen sense of the fair and beautiful in
nature, and a warm rush of grateful emotion, that made my
uplifted eyes swim again. I could not look on earth or
heaven, without being struck with the profusion, the almost
prodigality of goodness, manifested by the Father of
Mercies. ‘The earth was overhung with an azure canopy,
and clouds of dazzling white, edged with glittering gold.
In my walk mine eye had glanced around on @ distant
prospect of hills and plains, and woods and water, that gave
: back the sunbeam; while around me stood, at different
ON BIRDS, FLOWERS, AND OTHER THINGS. 31

distances, the venerable oak, the towering elm, and the
romantic fir ; but I had now entered the shady lane, where
in my pathway, and almost beneath my feet, glowed the
yellow-blossomed furze bushes, absolutely dazzling me with
their yellow glories.

“My very delight became painful to me, through its
excess ; nor can I hope to impart a sense of my emotions
to one altogether a stranger to such feelings. Every object
appeared as a picture, not executed by the puny pencil of a
mortal being, but painted by the almighty hand of the
Kternal.

“There I stood, bending over a furze bush, as if I had
never gazed on one before. Through its interstices might
be seen the brown and faded parts of the shrub, with here
and there a ladybird, with its hard red wings, dotted with
black, crawling among them; but on the upper part, its
myriads of fresh green thorns were studded with almost
an equal number of pure and spotless flowers, spangled
with dew-drops. It seemed as if the blooming, beaming,
and almost blazing bush, had been called into existence
and clothed with beauty to give me pleasure! It was
regarded by me as a gift from the Father of Mercies, and I
stood over it with a heart beating with thankfulness.

“A little farther on, the long, straggling branches of the
blackberry bramble hung down from the high hedge: the
sight was a goodly one, a perfect picture: the fresh green
leaves, mingled with others somewhat sere ; the red-coloured
stems, with their white-pointed thorns, short, hooked, and
strong ; the fruit partly unripe, green, and red; and partly
ripe, rich, juicy, and black as ebony, waiting to be gathered.
The melons and pines of the banquetting board coyld not

have surpassed, in my estimation, the bounteous feast that
was thus spread before me.
32 RURAL PICKINGS.

“The next object was a hawthorn bush, entangled in
whose long spiky thorns grew a wild rose, rich with scarlet
hips. The parsley-shaped leaves of the bush, the ten
thousand red bright berries that adorned it, together with
the wild rose, was another picture glorious to gaze on.

«“ Close to the hawthorn bush sprang up a wild young
plum-tree, gorgeous with a profusion of colours; for the
sharp night air and the bleaching winds had changed the
verdure of its leaves, so that faded green, yellow, ash-
colour, white, red, and deepest purple, vied with each other.

« Below the plum-tree, and close against the bank on
which the hedge grew, stood a thistle, four feet high. It
was a glorious plant: such a one that, if thistles were not
common, would be transported to the gay parterre, tended
with care, and exhibited with pride; yet there it was, with
its pointed leaves and purple flowers, now blooming unno-
ticed, save by my admiring eyes.

«At the very foot of the thistle grew luxuriantly the
romantic-looking fern-root: divide it as you may, to the
very last its fragments bear a resemblance to the whole
plant. It gave a character to the spot, for, in my estima-
tion, it is one of the most elegant plants that grow. A
spider had woven his filmy web across it, thus imparting to
it an additional charm.

«Twas absolutely bewildered with the amazing freshness
and beauty of every object around me. I cast a hurried
glance on the furze-bush, the bramble, the hawthorn, and
the wild rose; the plum-tree, the thistle, and the fern; |
looked up to the snowy clouds in the blue sky, and the
language of my heart and soul was, ‘ O Lord, open thou
my lips, and my mouth shall show forth thy praise.’ ”



|
|
a ae

CHAPTER VI.

pen

THE COUNTRY BOY.

Variety occasioned by the seasons in rural objects and occupations.—
Approach of summer.— Advantage of good temper.—The country boy.
—He swings to and fro on the gate, and eats his bread and bacon.—
The pocket-knife.—Light-heartedness.—The fine ladies.—The country
boy’s rural knowledge.—Speculations on his future prospects.

AS @ fire cannot be kept up without fresh fuel, neither
can enjoyment be continued without fresh sources of
pleasure. In this respect the change produced by the
seasons on rural objects, and rural occupations, is a greater
blessing than is usually supposed. Hardly do I know
which would be the greater trial, to be ever in the sun-
shine, or always in the shade. Pleasant as are the flowers
of spring, and the sun of summer, we could but ill spare
the fruits and sere leaves of autumn, or the bracing air of
frosty winter. |
I have been rambling in the fields, breathing the fresh
air, listening to the singing birds, gazing on the bright
blue sky, and enjoying the hilarity of creation ; for at. the
approach of summer, Nature seems to hold a sort of
rejoicing festival; true it is, that we have not yet the
ripened fruit on the tree, nor the golden grain upon the
ground ; but we have the promise of them both; and the
sun-lit vault above us, the balmy breeze around us, with
D
34 RURAL PICKINGS.

the green leaves, buds, blossoms, flowers, birds, bees, and
butterflies, that animate and beautify creation, delight the
eye, the ear, and the heart. = ~

I suppose that my ramble has given a freshness to my
feelings, and made my pulse beat with a healthier throb ;
for 1 certainly seem to be sn better temper than ordinary.
Oh, what an abundant source of enjoyment is good temper !
and what a continual cause of trouble is ill temper. The
one is sunshine, the other is shade ; the one is honey, the
other is vinegar; the one is harmony, the other is discord.
Were all the people in the world, young and old, good
tempered, life would resemble a holiday, much more than
it now does. Good-tempered people are not only happy,
put they make other people happy 100 ; while such as are
ill-tempered do much towards rendering those around them
as miserable as themselves.

Some people run into the error of supposing good temper
to consist mainly in playmg off silly jokes, and in relating
laughable stories ; but these have nothing whatever to do
with it, An ill-tempered man may do these, and a good-
tempered man may do very well without them. temper 1S & healthy cheerfulness, that looks on the sunny
side of every circumstance that happens, and takes the
yough things of life, as well as the smooth, with a good
grace. Good temper is at ease, when ill temper is in @
rage. Good temper preathes the gentle breeze, while ill
temper is blown about by the whirlwind.

Hardly do I know which is the most unlovely, an ill-
tempered boy, or an ill-tempered old man. I have a perfect
dread of ever becoming the latter. What! after partaking
of unnumbered blessings from my earliest youth, to become
peevish, ill-tempered, and repining! ‘The very thought is

hateful to me. Though not highly-favoured in point of
THE COUNTRY BOY. 35

temper, I love good temper with all my heart, and can —
hardly separate ill temper from sin: fain would I in my
latter day show forth, more than at any former period of
my life, the sober cheerfulness of my spirit, and the thank-
fulness of my heart. How little we deserve, how much we
receive! A becoming temper and a grateful spirit should
be visible in our thoughts, our words, and our deeds !

E’en like the glowing sun, that flings

A glory on terrestrial things ;

Would I, where’er my feet are found,

In cheerful light and life abound,
And shed a grateful influence round.

In the country there are ever to be found points and
pickings of human character, of a different. kind to those we
observe in the city. The country boy and the town boy
are different beings, and the aged rustic and the grey-
headed mechanic can hardly be compared together.

Let me tell you of a little country lad that I once saw,
in one of my rambles, sitting on a ricketty gate by the
highway side; for not soon shall I forget the chubby rogue,
who was the very picture of independence. He reminded
me of Bunyan’s shepherd boy in the Valley of Humility,
who had more of the herb called heartsease in his bosom
than those who were clad in silk and velvet. The young
urchin seemed to breathe the air of that happy valley ; he
was, indeed, bred in it, and that. was the reason his eye was
so bright, his cheek so red, and his heart so merry.

He felt the glowing, gladdening sun,
And feared nor shade nor shower,

Nor past mishap, nor future ill—
His was the present hour!

It must have been just such another boy as he, who
once was asked, as the story goes, what he would do if '
D2
36 RURAL PICKINGS.

were aking? “Eat fat bacon and ride upon a gate,” was
his unhesitating reply. Now the boy before me was in full
possession of these enjoyments, without the incumbrance of
a crown; for as he pushed open the swinging gate, by
placing his feet against the post, one of his hands held the
fag end of a piece of bread and bacon, while the other
clutched an uncouth pocket-knife, on which a cutler might
have blushed to have seen his name. In truth it was not

“ Sheffield made in haft and blade ;”

but that did not lessen its value, for its happy possessor
was altogether ignorant of the surpassing productions of
the Yorkshire hardware town. His hobnailed shoes were
old and clouted; but they answered his purpose, for they
were useful, if not ornamental ; he knocked them against
the gate, in the gaiety of his heart, and whistled when his
mouth was empty. He had, no doubt, seen soldiers march
with, perhaps, a recruiting sergeant at their head, and with
whistling and shoe-music he tried to imitate the spirit-
stirring sounds of the fife and drum. His ragged clothes
would have suited a scare-crow, fluttering as they did in
the wind. Had I met a company on the highway, clad as
he was, I should surely have said to myself,

“ The beggars are coming to town .

but the lad had a lighter heart than broadcloth ever be-
stowed on those who are “ buttoned to the chin” in Spanish
wool doubly dyed. I will be bound for it that he had not
a farthing in his pocket to change for gingerbread, but the
huckster’s window was far away, and no longings tantalised
the young rogue. Now and then he chaunted fragments of
a homely ditty, in strains that to me were musical, for they
were the outpourings of a happy heart.
THE COUNTRY BOY. 37

Some ladies, visitors I suppose at the Great House on
the hill, clad in gay attire, and rustling in silks and
satins, passed by the very gate: he saw them coming, but
did he hide himself behind the hedge, abashed at the sight
of them; or hang down his head, ashamed of his ragged
jacket? Not he. His elevated position was maintained,
and from it he looked saucily down on silken splendour.
He did not even remove his tattered hat, and though he
was scornfully regarded by the fair ladies, he compre-
hended not the meaning of their looks, but whistled
louder than before, enjoying the sight of gay garments, as
though they were purposely put on for his amusement.
Manners he had not been taught, and was, as yet, unop-
pressed by the awe of the world.

But though his manners and his modesty were in so
small a compass, he was not without his points; for as a
naturalist he would have ranked with Buffon and Linneus,
far above fifty of your bowing and scraping skippers of the
counter. The birds that fled within sight were narrowly
watched by him, and, no doubt, he thought of their nests,
and wished that he knew whereabout they were, that he
might empty them of their eggs, sucking their yolks, and
stringing their shells on a bent of grass.

He knew the habits of the wheeling hawk, that he saw
spirally ascending, before he hovered stationary in mid air;
and could have given a shrewd guess as to the moment
when, with closed wings, the bird would pounce down on its
prey. He was proud, too, of what he knew of the feathered
race, and would have laughed you to scorn had you called a
hawk a kite, a rook a crow, or indeed given any other
names to birds than those contained in his nomenclature.

He knew where blackberries and nuts grew thickest,
and was a clever searcher among the hazel boughs. He
38 RURAL PICKINGS.

could have brought you, at few minutes’ notice, the
sourest sorrel from the bank of the field, and the freshest
water-cress from the prook. He could climb a tree, make
a whistle from the withy bough, and a pop-gun from
an elder slip. Young as he was, those clouted shoes had
often made the football rebound, and the holes in the knees
of his tattered trowsers proclaimed him to be a “ dabster
at taw.” ‘These are but a part of the many rustic acquire-
ments, that sweeten the leisure hours of the country boy 5
while we, with superior knowledge, sigh at scenes that
would make him smile; and with greater foresight, groan at
coming events, which cannot check his laughter.

While I regarded the country boy, @ tattered companion
approached him, sending his voice on before, when friend-
ship brought down our hero from his perch. He gave up
the gate for a companion, and together went the two play
fellows, hastening towards some favourite haunt, with mirth-
ful antics and unrepressed laughter ; leaving me, not alto-
gether without a suspicion of being the object and subject
of their mirth; for while the young urchin occupied the
gate, he surveyed me, more than once, with a leer from the
commer of his eye, and likely enough, as he walked away, he
was at my expense making his playmate merry.

And now let us ask, what part on the “world’s wide
stage” will be performed, in future years, by the country
boy? Will he, with his hard hands, apply himself to
honest labour, or become familiar with the bludgeon and
the airgun? Will he be skilful at the plough and the
reaping-hook ? or expert in setting traps and gins, in fol-
lowing the craft of a poacher, in grappling with game:
keepers, and in shedding human blood? Will his clear
brow ever be wrinkled with sinful thoughts, and his brain
become fertile with fell expedients ? Will he sullenly
THE COUNTRY BOY. 39

skulk in the darkness to set the Squire’s barns and ricks in
a glare, and end his‘days on a gallows, or be transported as
a felon to a distant land? Away with such gloomy fore-
bodings! the cawing and croaking of the rooks and crows
above me must surely have given birth to them; let us
adopt a healthier tone of feeling, and a more cheerful view
of things.

Let us suppose that the country boy will fall into good
hands, get a little schooling, and walk in upright ways. —
Why not? Why should he not be taken notice of by some
honest-hearted farmer, who adopts the motto, “‘ Hard work
and good wages?” Yes, yes! He will see the advantage of ©
good conduct, tread in the steps of those who set him a
good example, and, as he adds to his years and strength,
rise in the good opinion of his employer. And now, if we
give him a neat cottage, a pleasant garden, an affectionate
and industrious wife, two or three healthy children, and a
bible, we give him the elements of as much—aye, of more
happiness—than he would enjoy by being made Lord
Mayor of London.

BRR


CHAPTER VII.

—_——-@—

A FEW WORDS ABOUT OLD HOUSES.

New attractions given to rural scenes.—Interesting spots no longer to be
identified. Old houses.—Fragments only of their history to be obtained.
—Way in which they are occupied.— Elizabethan old English manor-
houses.—Terraces, balconies, halls, chambers, furniture, tapestry, and
paintings.—The armoury and associations it calls forth.— Wolverley
Court.—Tradition.

DELIGHTFUL as rural scenes are, they are rendered

much more so by circumstances of a favourable kind.
The society of an agreeable friend gives new attractions to
the sweetest spot, and the knowledge that some remarkable
event took place there, clothes with additional interest the
most entrancing scene.

It is really afflictive to think of the many spots of an
interesting kind, which now can no longer be identified,
and of the many goodly old houses, whose history is in-
volved in obscurity. How many old, antiquated mansions
are there scattered through the country, about which their
present tenants know nothing. Their ancient proprietors
resided in them in all the rigid state and rude hospitality
of bygone days; but their descendants no longer inhabit
them, nor any one interested in their history. You may
find, perhaps, in the chancel of the neighbouring churches
a few monuments in black or white marble, inscribed with
A FEW WORDS ABOUT OLD HOUSES. 4]

the names of these ancient worthies ; and the villagers are
not without some wild and improbable tales of the Hall,
handed down to them by their forefathers, but for the most
part, no more than these scanty records can be collected by
the passing stranger. As you look on one of these vener-
able mansions, and think of the different inmates that have
occupied it, you are forcibly reminded of the remark of the
Dervis to the King—“ Ah, sire! the dwelling that changes
its guests so often, is not a king’s palace, but a caravansera.”

Now and then may be seen houses of this kind, on a less
ample scale, uninhabited, yet partially occupied. The
neighbouring farmer is the tenant, and he knows little, and
cares less, about carved chimney-pieces, and tapestry, and
family portraits; but the old house is useful to him; he
has put a cottager in one end of the crazy dwelling, erected
a shed in the court-yard, under which he keeps his carts,
and waggons, and ploughs, and harrows; the hall is turned
into a lumber room, and the very chamber where Sir
Edward and Dame Dorothy his wife slumbered in peace, is
occupied as a granary.

Old mansions, however, there are, yet tenanted by the
descendants of their original proprietors. You have seen,
perhaps, many a real Elizabethan old English manor-
house ; grey, weather-stained, faded, and venerable. You
have walked along its trim terraces, and leaned on its
carved balconies and sculptured balustrades. A thrill of
strange interest has run through your frame when pacing
its spacious halls, its echoing passages, and door-ways with
gloomy arches. You have surveyed thoughtfully the heavy,
lumbering, unwieldy furniture; the large, antique sofas,
covered with flowered damask; the upright, long-backed, low-
seated chairs, with their arms and legs ribbed and black ;
the grotesque shapes and grinning faces of the uncouth
42 RURAL PICKINGS.

carved figures, dim and doubtful as they appeared in the
dubious light; and the high, canopied, crimson damasked
curtained beds. You have trodden softly on the old, dark,
slippery oaken floors; you have gazed awfully on the faint
and worn tapestry, crowded with stiff, stalking personages,
large as life, and felt, when looking at the stern-faced
paintings, as though the entrance of the owner's grand-
father’s grandfather, gliding in through some moveable
pannel of the wainscotting, or from behind the arras, was 4
thing far from improbable.

Kneller and Sir Peter Lely are not yet departed, for they
live in the painted beauties of the reign of Charles, that
still adorn these olden mansions. The lustrous eye, the
peachy cheek, the antiquated dress are there ; and the
mail-clad baron frowns from his oaken frame. You have
seen the wide hearth in the hall, the gilded hatchment,
and the stag antlérs on the walls, and the pointed and
groined projections from the roof above.

You may be a lover of peace, but the armoury has made
you feel like a warrior. First, you have taken a glance of
awe and wonder at the profusion of helms, and hauberks,
and hard habergeons, and suits of armour gambuised, and
mail, and plate, plain, fluted, black, bronzed, graven, inlaid,
and embossed. Then you have regarded a single suit,
from the steel clog to the skull-cap ; sabatynes, greaves,
“euisses, breech-mail cuillettes, cuirass, vambraces, rere-
braces, gauntlets and helmet, lance, sword, dagger, and
shield.

You have wondered that men had strength enough to
move and mount their steeds, and fight with such a weight
of harness on their backs; and a brazen helm and coat of
mail have brought before you the figure of Goliath of old :—

« And there went out a champion out of the camp of the


A FEW WORDS ABOUT OLD HOUSES. 43

Philistines, named Goliath of Gath, whose height was six
cubits and a span. And he had a helm of brass upon his
head, and he was armed with a coat of mail, and the weight
of the coat was five thousand shekels of brass. And he
had greaves of brass upon his legs, and a target of brass
between his shoulders. And the staff of his spear was like
a weaver’s beam, and his spear’s head weighed six hundred
shekels of iron; and one bearing a shield went before him.”

A strange confusion of dates and personages has no
doubt taken place in your mind; for clubs and maces, and
hammers and battleaxes, and buff coats, and huge boots
and spears, and matchlocks and petronels, and inlaid pistols,
were hung round the walls, and you could not clearly
remember when gunpowder was invented, and when armour
was set aside.

You thought of the heroes of Homer; the knights of
Spenser’s Fairy Queen ; the old Crusaders, the Howards
and Essexes; the Warwicks and the Wiltons ; the Doug-
lasses and the Percys; and were, at, last, bewildered and
lost among castles and convents, battles and tournaments,
pageants and pilgrims, the Black Prince, the wars of York
and Lancaster, the Holy Land, and the Tourney of the
Field of Cloth-of-Gold. |

Once more you have gained the court-yard, and the
spirit of old times has come over you. Centuries have
flown back, and the rigid state of other days has surrounded
you. Knights were harnessed for the tourney, and the
balcony was crowded with “ladyes fayre.” Or the rude
and rough riders of bygone days, with their dogs and _hog-
spears, were about to beat up the woods, and rouse from
his shadowy hiding-place the shaggy and bristly boar. Or
the hawking party was about to go abroad; manly forms
and figures of feminine beauty were mounted on steeds,
44 RURAL PICKINGS.

with ringing horns, and jingling bells, and falcons, with
their hoods and jesses. Or the mumniers and merry
maskers were dissipating the tardiness and gloom of night
by their strange gambols in the high-roofed hall, lit up
with sparkling faggots and flaming torches.

As poets describe the scene—

In days of yore the gladsome day was spent

In joust and tournament, and courtly glee :

Then, castle roofs re-echoed with the peal

Of midnight revelry and festal mirth.

Oh, what a glorious time was that to live in !

When knights were faithful, ladies true and fair ;
When pageantry and pleasure hand in hand

With innocence, danced through the circling hours !
Where grief, and pain, and guilt were never known :
And all was loyalty, and life, and love !

But was it so? Too closely question not

The fairy dreams of gay, romantic youth !

He that from records of the past would draw

A portrait fair of frail humanity,

Must be content, with hurried glance to pass

O’er blotted pages of distress and grief,

And many a painful paragraph of crime.

Men were, of olden time, as they are now,

The slaves of passion, pride, and follies vain.

Many years ago, I remember spending some time at
Wolverley Court, Worcestershire. Wolverley, anciently
called Ulwardelei, Wlwardeley, Wlverslawe, and Whfres-
lowe, is. in the division of the hundred of Oswalddeslaw,
and the deanery of Kidderminster.

“The most ancient family in this parish was that of the
Attwoods, sometimes called from the Latin, de Bosco, andfrom
the French, de Bois. One of this family had considerable
estates in Kidderminster, Rushock, Nordwyke, Worcester, and
A FEW WORDS ABOUT OLD HOUSES. 45

other parts. Their arms were a lion rampant, seizing on a
conquereddragon. Afterwardsthey bore a lion queue furchée
(or with double tail), which, as the lion’s strength con-
sisteth much in his tail, denoteth a double force. The arms
are often seen with an abbot’s mitre on the lion, denoting
that one of that family was Abbot of Evesham. The heiress ©
of Attwood married Beauchamp, and the arms were painted
in the church of Holt. In the reign of Henry the Sixth
the Attwoods were escheators of the county, justices of the
peace, and esquires of the better sort. The Attwoods were
great benefactors to the church of Worcester. Abel Att-
wood, Gent., and eldest son of Henry Attwood, Esq., late of
Wolverley Court, being the last male heir of that elder
house, died Oct. 8th, a.p. 1726, aged 66.”

To the above account, which is extracted from Nash’s
folio edition of Worcestershire, I shall subjoin a tradition
which has long passed current at Wolverley. As Wolverley
Court was for some time uninhabited, the tradition lost
somewhat of its interest and influence; but many of the
elder inhabitants of Wolverley have pleasure in dwelling on
the miraculous relation, which they assuredly believe to
be true.

I had the following relation from the lips of an aged
tenant of Wolverley Court, while she occupied the mansion.
The fetters mentioned in the story were then hanging over
the window, and it would have been considered an offence,
almost unpardonable, to have doubted for a moment the
miraculous story.

‘‘ During the time of the Crusades, one of the ancestors
of the Attwood family resided at Wolverley Court. Engaging
in the Holy War, he divided a ring with his lady, in token
of remembrance, and crossed the seas. Being made a
prisoner, he was confined for many years in a Turkish
46 RURAL PICKINGS.

prison, from whence he was occasionally taken, like Samson
of old, to furnish amusement to his enemies. On the eve
of a certain festival, having a fearful expectation that he
should again be called forth to endure the cruel derision of
his tormentors, he prayed earnestly that God would deliver
him from his enemies, and permit him once more to see
his native land. On the morning he found himself within
a few miles of his own mansion, reclining in a ditch with
his fetters and chains by him, where he was discovered by a
servant; the servant knew him not, but an old dog fawned
upon his master. Making himself known, he made in-
quiries after his lady. His hair and beard were much
grown, and his appearance so altered by his imprisonment,
that his lady did not know him ; but when he produced
the part of the ring which had been broken between them,
she was convinced. He passed the remainder of his life at
Wolverley Court, and lived retired, like a hermit. The
place where he was found in the ditch at Horsley is called
Park Attwood to this day. The carved figure of a dog
was placed in Wolverley church, but is now removed; but
the fetters, as you see, still hang over the drawing-room
window of Wolverley Court.”
SKOOL »

CHAPTER VIII.

eee Q pean

THE ASCENT OF MOUNT MUCKLESTONE.

Turning natural scenery toa good account.—Perseverance a valuable quality.
—Ascent of Mount Mucklestone.—The solitary traveller.— Lake
Crystal—The rock gives way, and the traveller falls—Steepness of
Mount Mucklestone.—The second accident of the traveller.—The
cavern.—The ridgy ledge.—The traveller loses his footing, and rolls
over the arch of the cavern—The escape.—The summit gained.—
Remarks.

[T is one of the many objects I have in view in these

Rural Pickings, to sprinkle freely my rustic descriptions
with good feeling and kindly suggestions that may be turned
to account. Hills and valleys, woods and waterfalls, fields
and flowers, ponds and brooks, will only be the more beau-
tiful if we can get from them aught that will dispose us
more gratefully to enjoy, and more patiently to endure; aught
that will nerve our hearts in danger, knit us more closely to
those we love, and call forth kindly emotions for all around.
What if we could wander for ever amid daisies and
daffodils, breathe nothing but fresh air scented by violets,
and hear nothing but the singing of larks and the murmur-
ing of waterfalls! dreaming away our lives in listless ease
and unenviable uselessness! A generous heart and a kindly
spirit would shrink from such selfish enjoyment ; but when
we turn the fair things of creation to account by improving
48 RURAL PICKINGS.

our own hearts, and connecting our own good with the good
of others, we obtain a healthier, if not a holier, gratification.

There are very few qualities of more value than that of
perseverance in the different positions and relations of life ;
those who possess it have, as it were, in most undertakings,
Success written on their foreheads ; while those who possess
it not have but a poor prospect of obtaining their ends.
The cavern of Antiparos is deep, but Perseverance descends
to its lowest recess. The Alps are high, yet Perseverance
places its foot on their cloud-capt heads.

You have heard of Mont Blanc, and have read that it is
one of the highest mountains of the Alps—

“ Snow piled on frozen snow the mass appears,
The gather’d winter of a thousand years,”

lifting up its giant head more than seventeen thousand feet
above the level of the sea. What romantic and sublime
varieties of beauty are presented by mountainous scenery !
The grand and the grotesque, the stern, the sterile, and
the arresting, with all that 1s lovely and attractive, are
to be found among its solitary recesses, its craggy ridges,
its rugged rocks, and its jagged peaks.

“ High the Alpine summits rise,

Height o’er height stupendous hurld ;

Like the pillars of the skies,
Like the ramparts of the world.”

The ascent of Mont Blanc has ever been considered an
achievement of no ordinary kind. It has been boldly
undertaken, and gallantly executed, by many, with more or
less difficulty ; but under the most favourable circumstances,
the enterprise has required resolution and perseverance,
and ever been attended with great danger. If you have
ever read of the ascent of Mont Blanc—
THE ASCENT OF MOUNT MUCKLESTONE. 49

* Monarch of the scene, —
Mightiest where all are mighty,”

by Paccard, Saussure, Beaufoy, Jackson, Clarke, Sherwell,
Barry, Waddington, and others whose adventurous feet
have attained its summit, you must, in a degree, have
drunk into their ardour, admired their perseverance, and
been moved at one time by fear, and at another with
delight. The timid may blame the rashness of jeopardising
life: and the prudent may inquire, what useful end is
attained by the accomplishment of such enterprises? but
some allowance must be made for those who unite with an
adventurous disposition an ardent love of natural scenery.
To see the sublime creations of the wonder-working hands
of the Eternal, and to communicate that knowledge, which
is otherwise unattainable to mankind, are not of themselves
censurable objects. But now, having said so much of Mont
Blanc, I must draw your attention to the ascent of another
eminence, which I myself witnessed with an intensity of
interest. : 3

It was in the summer of 1844 that a solitary traveller
arrived at Lake Crystal, at the foot of Mount Muckle-
stone. The scene was of an imposing kind, and many
would have been arrested by its romantic beauty, but the
traveller hastened on towards the mountain, winding along
between the grotesque, craggy fragments, twenty times his
height, which having rolled down from the mountain, lay
seattered around the borders of the lake. For some time
he was partially hidden by these irregular masses of rock,
but soon after he emerged from them, and began to ascend
the base of Mount Mucklestone, close to the water, carrying
with him a rope for protection! and assistance. Hardly had
he ascended his own height, when a part of the rock above
him, rolled down, bearing him with it into the lake. Un-

E
50 RURAL PICKINGS.

daunted by his accident he regained the shore, and again
began to climb.

Between the lake on the left, and the trees of various
kinds which towered above him on the right, the traveller
zig-zagged his way up the craggy steep, until he had gained
a considerable height, and here dangers began to thicken
around him. ‘True it is, that no slippery glacier lay beneath
his feet, and no threatening avalanche hung over his head,
but then he had no guide, and had eminences before him,
untrodden by the foot of man! The face of the mountain
up which the traveller slowly climbed, was diversified with
stony strata of varied colours, a kind of red granite, and
grey limestone at different points appeared to prevail, while,
here and there, trees whose slenderest branches were thicker
than the traveller's body, sprang from the rifts and fissures
of the steep ascent.

One of the greatest impediments in ascending Mount
Mucklestone, is its extreme steepness, it being at a certain
height, for the most part perpendicular, so that, were it not
for its projecting ledges, the face of the mountain to the
north would resemble a mass of masonry. Nor is the diffi-
culty arising from the variable nature of its surface to be
disregarded, for while one part appears to possess the firm-
ness and solidity of marble, another loosens and crumbles
down at the slightest touch, falling into the lake below.
Who has ever seen a mass of stone fall from a giddy
height, precipitating itself on the rocks, or plunging head-
long into the deep waters below, without a sensation of
terror ? |

After attaining a shelf of rock somewhat broader than th
other ledges he had trodden, the traveller proceeded cau-
tiously, for the shattered crag up which he had to toil was
—Joose. Already had he mounted three or four times his
THE ASCENT OF MOUNT MUCKLESTONE. 5]

height, when the crag, to which he clung, gave way, and
down he rolled on the broad shelf below. Had not this
shelf of rock interposed, he must have been, once more, pre-
cipitated into the lake. Short was the pause that this
accident occasioned, and again the. traveller renewed his
efforts with better success.

At a point, which is more than midway up the steep,
there is a cavern of such dimensions, as to occupy no incon-
siderable part of the mountain. The projecting arch of this
cavern gloomily frowns on the precipice below, looking
down upon Lake Crystal. A ridgy ledge of. rock running
regularly up one side of the cavern, and leading to its
summit, appears to afford the only footing for an adventurous
aspirant. With undaunted intrepidity, and without the least
hesitation, the traveller took the rough and ridgy pathway,
if such it might be called, which overhung the precipice,
and slowly laboured up the steep, hardly allowing himself a
moment's respite. Once he paused, as though unable to
proceed, and twice his foot slipped, but he recovered himself
and toiled on. .

After much fatigue, he attained the summit of the ridgy
path, but, scarcely had he paused on the archway, that
crowned the mouth of the cavern, when he lost his footing,
and alas! rolled over. It was well for him, that he had
fastened his rope to a jutting part of the crag; clinging
tenaciously to this, he swung for an instant to and fro, over
the mouth of the fearful void. Above him were the craggy
heights, the summit of which he could not see, on account
of the beetling brow of the cave, and beneath him yawned
an abyss, of a depth almost equal to a thousand times his
height.

Why, traveller, didst thou take the dangerous track? Why
did thy reckless foot essay a path of such imminent peril ?

E2
52 RURAL PICKINGS.

The steadiness and self-possession of the traveller in his
perilous position were admirable. It is not in common
cases an easy undertaking to climb up a rope, but the tra-
veller was accustomed to exploits of this kind, and inured
to danger. For one moment he remained immovable, but
the next, he slowly ascended the rope. What if his strength
had failed him; or his brain had turned giddy; or the rope
had broken? Let us not think of it!

Having once more gained a footing on the arch of the
cavern, he proceeded onwards with mingled caution and
determination. Sometimes he met with dangers, which it
was necessary to avoid, and now and then, he had occasion
to retrace his course, but, finally, by perseverance in defiance
of all dangers, and in despite of all difficulties, he gained
the summit of Mount Mucklestone.

And now let me admit, that, in drawing this sketch of
- the ascent of Mount Mucklestone, I have taken the liberty,
which an artist always takes, of representing my picture on
the scale best suited to my purpose. My scale has been a
large one. I have amused myself, and I hope somewhat
interested you. Mount Mucklestone is the rocky side of a
stone quarry. Lake Crystal, at its base, is a spring, and
the adventurous traveller was a diminutive spider.

Is there any reason why a lover of nature, should not
admire the minute, as well as the vast? and gaze on the
side of a stone quarry with delight, as well as on Mont
Blanc? When it pleases the Almighty Creator of all
things, to concentrate in a few square yards, as much beauty
as can be discovered in as many square miles, may we not
gaze on his wondrous handywork with delight, and ought we
not to adore him with unfeigned thankfulness ?

And is it right, think you, that we should bound: our ad-
miration to human qualities? Ought we not to admire
THE ASCENT OF MOUNT MUCKLESTONE. 53

sagacity in the elephant, fidelity in the dog, industry in the
bee, and perseverance in the spider? If aught on which
the eye can gaze, enhances our love and admiration of our
Great Creator, or binds us with kindly affections to his
creatures, be assured it is worthy of our regard. Consider
this aright, and you will feel somewhat indulgent to the
account I have given you, of the ascent of Mount Mucklestone.

There is something so truly disgraceful to draw back, and
something so truly noble, in the face of difficulty and danger,
to persevere in a praiseworthy undertaking, that I would
willingly derive an illustration from any source, if, by it, I
could call up in others and myself a spirit of perseverance.
Whether we look at the traveller ascending Mont Blane, or
at the spider climbing Mount Mucklestone, the lesson
before us is the same; difficulties and dangers are to be
overcome by perseverance.

But however exciting and encouraging it is to see, or to
hear, of instances wherein perseverance attains its object in
the more public, and more glaring enterprises of life, such
instances are often not equally honourable to humanity, as
others of a more secluded kind. ‘To do or to suffer, when
the world is looking on, ready to mete out its honours and
rewards as the recompense of success, is comparatively easy,
but to persevere in doing and suffering in a good cause, when
no eye is open to admire, and no hand is extended to re-
ward, requires qualities more exalted. These are the
qualities we should strive to possess.

We are naturally attracted by the actions of heroes and
heroines, for these are held in high esteem, and kept before
the public eye; but there are heroes and heroines in private
life, who, unrecompensed and unknown by the world, go on
to the very grave, patient and persevering. Rather would
I rank my readers among these, than inscribe their names “
hy | RURAL PICKINGS.

in monumental marble as the sackers of cities, and the
conquerors of distant lands.

Perseverance is a noble quality, that may be practised in
private, as usefully as in public. We may never be called
on to ascend Mont Blanc, to discover the source of the
Niger, nor to visit Timbuctoo, but to persevere in useful-
ness, benevolence and virtue is a noble undertaking, an
enterprise that would not derogate from the character of an
angel. Let us then persevere, neither dismayed by dan-
gers, nor overcome by difficulties ; for, as I said before, the
Cavern of Antiparos is deep, but perseverance descends to
its lowest recess. The Alps are high, yet perseverance
places its foot on their cloud-capt heads.
ae

CHAPTER IX.

meet

COTTAGES AND COTTAGERS.

Cottage of Mother Hollins——Mother Hollins’s cat.—The Wanderer.—
Cottages of the poor and of the rich.—Our cares increase the value of
our comforts.—Cottage children.—A cottager’s love of natural beauty.
Trials and afflictions of cottagers.—Poor Widow Gill, and her wayward
Son.

LIKE to look at cottages, cottagers, and cottage children,

for there is so much simplicity about them all, that
they dispose the heart to peace and contentment. That
cottage on the little slope yonder, with the garden and
orchard of pear-trees, belongs to good Mother Hollins, a
simple-minded, honest creature, as ever spun a ball of flax,
or mended a pair of lambswool stockings.

Look at Mother Hollins’s cat travelling across the mea-
dow! I wonder where she has been wandering so early
this morning, and now she has to go back through the
_dewy grass. See how she shakes her paws as she takes
them up and looks as if she did not know when or where to
put them down again. Now she stops and stares around,
with her great eyes, to see, I suppose, if there be any other
way. No, pussy! you are in for it, and on you must go.
You take good care to hold your tail out of the wet, but you
cannot keep your whiskers from the dew-drops. That is
56 RURAL PICKINGS.

right! Another good jump or two will soon bring you to
the end of the field. I dare say that Mother Hollins’s
tea-kettle is singing by the fire, and that her cup and saucer
are placed ready for breakfast, so that you will not lose
your drop of milk.

Mother Hollins is fond of her cat, having brought it up
from a kitten. Oh! it was a dear, little mischievous
thing then, pulling up the daisies in her small garden ;
jumping at the weight of the cuckoo clock; tangling the
worsted ball belonging to her knitting, and scratching under
the tattered cushion of her arm-chair. Good Mother Hol-
lins, though she liked not to see the weight of her cuckoo
clock swinging so furiously from side to side, nor the heads
of her red and white daisies lying scattered on the ground,
bore all this very patiently, for she knew that pussy was
unconscious of doing any harm, and that her frolicsome
days would not last for ever.

Ay, and Mother Hollins was right, for Pussy is now as
grave and sedate as any tabby in the parish. You may
generally find her stretching before the fire, sitting in the
window, climbing up the pear-tree, or perched upon the
garden wall, purring in the sun, with her tail curled round
her legs. The other day as she sat on the old stone wall,
Jem Painter, who was passing by with his terrier dog,
pulled her down backwards by her tail, and set his dog on
her, an ill-natured trick by which he got no good, for his
terrier had a well-clawed nose, and he himself a couple of
sharp lashes, from the whalebone whip of John Fowler, who
came up at the time with his waggon. See! Pussy has
scrambled up the garden wall, leaped down inside the gate
into the little court, and scampered into Mother Hollins’s
cottage with her tail in the air.

Mother Hollins’s dwelling is just the place to set one
COTTAGES AND COTTAGERS. 57

who lives in a garret in the town, sighing after a cottage in
the country. It is just such a dear, sweet, little home-
stead as Campbell had in his eye, when he penned the
following beautiful lines :—

“ And, mark the wretch, whose wanderings never knew
The world’s regard, that soothes, though half untrue ;
Whose erring heart the lash of sorrow bore,

But found not pity when it err’d no more.

Yon friendless man, at whose dejected eye

Th’ unfeeling proud one looks—and passes by,
Condemn’d on penury’s barren path to roam,
Scorn’d by the world, and left without a home—
Even he at evening, should he chance to stray
Down by the hamlet’s hawthorn-scented way,
Where, round the cot’s romantic glade are seen
The blossom’d bean field, and the sloping green,
Leans o’er its humble gate, and thinks the while—
Oh ! that for me some home like this would smile,
Some hamlet shade, to yield my sickly form
Health in the breeze, and shelter in the storm !
Then should my hand no stinted boon assign

To wretched hearts with sorrow such as mine !—
That generous wish can soothe unpitied care,

And Hope half mingles with the poor man’s prayer.”

The term cottage has varied significations. The cottage
of the’ poor is usually scanty enough in space and con-
veniences, and oftentimes it is little better than a wretched,
ill-provided, smoky,—raftered hovel or shed, while that of
the rich is, comparatively, a mansion, comprising numerous
apartments of comforts, and many luxuries. Those who live
in cottages for the poetry of the thing, trying to blend the
elegancies of high life with the simplicity of rural manners,
are deficient after all, in the principal elements of cottage
character. ‘Their wants and desires are anticipated; but
58 RURAL PICKINGS,

the cottager has his bread to win with hard labour, and he
is not without anxiety, how he shall feed and clothe those
who are dear to him. Now it is this labour, and this
anxious care and uncertainty, when not in excess, that
make his mouthfuls pleasant morsels, and add value to his
bits and drops. The lights of life without the shadows are
imperfect. By an all-wise and merciful arrangement, our
cares impart a value to our comforts—

“ And every want that stimulates the breast,
Becomes a source of pleasure when redrest.”

Toil sweetens repose; hunger gives a relish to our food,
and thirst renders the cool draught doubly pleasurable.

Cottages there are neat and clean, which in reality, and
not by way of poetic figure, may be called the abodes of
peace. There Health resides with lusty Labour, and Sim-
plicity and Contentment dwell together, but cottages, even
of the industrious, at the present day are sadly deficient in
the flitch, the gammon, and the cask of home-brewed beer
that once were “ plentiful as blackberries.”

Happily has the pen of William Howitt hit off the chil-
dren of the cottager. ‘‘ The girls help their mothers—the
labourers’ wives—in their cottages, as soon almost as they
can waddle about. They are scarcely more than infants
themselves, when they are set to take care of other infants.
The little creatures go lugging about great fat babies that
really seem as heavy as themselves. You may see them
on the commons, or little open green spots in the lanes
near their homes, congregating together, two or three
juvenile nurses, with their charges, carrying them along,
or letting them roll on the sward, while they try to catch a
few minutes of play with one another, or with that tribe of
bairns at their heels—too old to need nursing, and too young
COTTAGES AND COTTAGERS. 59

to begin nursing others. As they get bigger, they are
found useful in the house—they mop and brush, and feed
the pig, and run to the town for things; and as soon as
they get to ten or twelve, out they go to nurse at the farm-
houses ; a little older, they “go to service ;” there they soon
aspire to be dairymaids, or housemaids, if their ambition
does not prompt them to seek places in the towns—and so
they go on scrubbing and scouring, and lending a hand in
the harvest field, till they are married to some young
fellow, who takes a cottage and sets up day-labourer. This
is their life; and the men’s is just similar. As soon
as they can run about, they are set to watch a gate that
stands at the end of the lane or the common, to stop
cattle from straying, and there, through long solitary days
they pick up a few halfpence by opening it for travellers.
They are sent to scare birds from corn just sown, or just
ripening, where

They stroll, the lonely Crusoes of the fields—

as Bloomfield has beautifully described them from his own
experience. They help to glean, to gather potatoes, to pop
beans into holes in dibbling time, to pick hops, to gather
up apples for the cinder-mill, to gather mushrooms and
blackberries for market, to herd flocks of geese, or young
turkeys, or lambs at weaning time; they even help to
drive sheep to market, or to the wash at shearing time ;
they can go to the town with a huge pair of clouted ancle-
boots tied together, and slung over the shoulder—one boot
behind and the other before ; and then they are very useful
to lift and carry about the farm-yard, to shred turnips, or
beet-root—to hold a sack open, to bring in wood for the
fire, or to rear turfs for drying on the moors, as the man
cuts them with his paring shovel, or to rear peat-bricks for
60 RURAL PICKINGS.

drying. They are mighty useful animals in their day and
generation, and as they get bigger, they successively learn to
drive the plough, and then to hold it ; to drive the team, and
finally to do all the labours of a man. ‘That is the growing
up of a farm-servant.”

A cottage life seems to set forth that our real wants are
few, for little more than food and raiment does the cot-
tager possess, and yet, where do you find finer forms,
sweeter faces, and healthier constitutions than in cottages ?
Luxury never enters, and revelry is seldom heard there,
but lovely domestic scenes are lit up by the cottage ingle.

“If men did but know,” says Jeremy Taylor, ‘‘ what
felicity dwells in the cottage of a virtuous poor man—how
sound he sleeps, how quiet his breast, how composed his
mind, how free from care, how easy his provision, how
healthy his morning, how sober his night, how moist his
mouth, how joyful his heart—they would never admire the
noises, the diseases, the throng of passions, and the violence
of unnatural appetites, that fill the houses of the luxurious,
and the hearts of the ambitious.”

As the poor greatly outnumber the rich, and labour for
their benefit, they cannot under any sound system of prin-
ciple or policy be neglected. Man has no charter from
heaven to enjoy prosperity, and to leave his poorer brother,
who has helped him to obtain it, in adversity. In exercising
as a right, that which is in itself wrong, he may add to his
own selfish gratifications, but he must do it at the expense
of his integrity. The policy, philosophy, religion and legis-
lation that seek not the comfort, enlightenment, morality,
piety.and happiness of the poor, must necessarily be defec-
tive. Nations as well as families, and parishes as well as
individuals, should take heed to the words of Holy Writ,
“Blessed is he that considereth the poor, the Lord will
COTTAGES AND COTTAGERS. 61

deliver him in time of trouble.” Rural scenery, amid all
its passive cheerfulness, is ever impressive, and to the
reflective mind, full of practical admonitions.

“ The evening cloud, the morning dew,
The withered grass, the faded flower,
Of earthly joys are emblems true ;—
The glory of a passing hour!” .

There is that in the heart of man that loves adventure
and: rural scenery, and I verily believe that where dis-
honesty has made one poacher, a dozen have been made by
a love of the pursuit of wild creatures, and by the delight
experienced in night watching and roaming at liberty, with
a stimulating motive, the pathless woods and solitary glens.
After all, however, the garden of a cottager supplies him
with his safest out-door pastime, his most innocent and
productive enjoyment. This is his antidote to the brawling
beer shop, and an unfailing source of quiet pleasure.
Honour and profit to the farmer who by his industry sup-
plies his own homestead with plenty, and practises hospi-
tality; but double honour, and double profit be his, who
adds to the comfort of the labouring poor. May his “ barns
be filled with plenty,” and his “ presses burst out with new
wine !”

Akenside says—

“ Ask the swain
Who journeys homeward from a summer day’s
Long labour, why, forgetful of his toils,
And due repose, he loiters to behold
The sun shine gleaming as through amber clouds,
O’er all the western sky! Full soon, I ween,
His rude expression and untutor’d airs,
Beyond the power of language will unfold
The form of beauty, smiling at his heart :
How lovely ! How commanding! ”
62 RURAL PICKINGS.

Akenside to witness this scene, must have been more
fortunate than most of us. Never yet did I behold a cot-
tager, in the attitude of voluntarily observing, much less
admiring, the rising or the setting sun, yet do I not from
this draw the conclusion that cottagers and country people
have not the love of nature, and of natural objects in their
hearts.

A cottager'’s love of natural beauty is not expressed by
the excited start, the uplifted hands and eye-brows, nor by
the ejaculations “ beautiful! wonderful!” It blends with
his peaceful feelings, and becomes unknown to himself, a
part of his existence. This is proved by his restlessness
when in towns and cities, and by his yearnings after those
things, without which, though he has never burst into rap-
turous exclamations about them, he cannot be happy.

The same thing may be said of his affection for his wife
and children. This affection is not told in gazing on them,
and telling them they are angels, but in cheerfully toiling
for them, hour after hour, and year after year, in the dry
and the wet, the hot and the cold, the summer and the
winter. True he may be found dandling his little ones on
his knee, ‘and carrying them in his arms, but his love is to
be seen mostly in his labour, and in the wages that he
brings home to the partner of his cottage.

In my rural pickings I would not pass over without a
word, the simple and pathetic relations that are sometimes
given by cottagers, of the trials and troubles that cast a
shadow on the dwelling of the poor. Cottagers oftentimes
bear patiently and silently, what would fill the mouths of
many with continual repinings, and go on, labouring day
after day, enduring bodily afflictions that would consign the
rich to a sick bed and the doctor.

One has a blind father; another a bed-ridden mother. A
COTTAGES AND COTTAGERS. 63

third has a son who has turned out wild, and become a
wandering vagabond; or a daughter, once the light, the
life and sunshine of the cottage, is now an inmate of a
lunatic asylum: with all its peace and contentment, the
cottage has its cares. .

Poor widow Gill, who lives at the cottage by the com-
mon, had a son, the only one she ever had, and he went to
sea. Oh Harry! Harry! It is a bitter thing to forsake a
widowed mother, and bitterly, I fear, hast thou paid for it!
Harry went as cabin boy, on board the good ship Rover,
and soon after the Rover was “ missing.” Some say the
vessel was wrecked in the West Indies; others that she
was crushed by two icebergs.in the Frozen ocean. There
are reports, too, of her running adrift on the coast, among
the cannibals who slaughtered her crew, while it may be
that the ship was destroyed by fire. Whichever of the
reports may be true, widow Gill, at different times, believes
them all, and yet cherishes the fond hope, that Harry may
yet come back again. Years and years have rolled away,
but on stormy wintry nights the poor widow still watches
and weeps in her lonely dwelling, thinking of ships and
shipwrecked sailors.

The Rover is “missing ! ” her mariners sleep,

As we fear, in the depths of the fathomless deep ;
And no tidings shall tell if their death-grapple came
By disease, or by famine, by flood or by flame.

The storm beaten billows, that ceaselessly roll,
Shall hide them for ever from mortal control :

And their tale be untold, and their history unread,
Till the dark caves of ocean shall give up their dead
PSO

CHAPTER X.

—@——

ON SERVING-MEN, OR MEN-OF-ALL-WORK.

Usefulness of serving-men.—George Glossop.—His varied occupations and
great strength.—Proud of his talent in hair-cutting —George hives the
bees and plays the parts of farrier and butcher.—Harvest time.—Robert
Hadley.—Edwin Horton.—Old Samuel Green.—John Andrews.—
John’s occupations.—The garden, the stable, the carriage-house and the
cellar.—John Andrews always to be found when wanted.

Wuokver has moved about much in the country, with an
ordinary degree of observation, must have felt some interest
in the serving-men, or men-of-all-work, which are found in
different situations. This class of men are, I think, among
the most useful of any, and when integrity and skill are
united, as they frequently are, in their character, they can
hardly be too highly valued. Your labouring man pursues
his accustomed employment in the fields, varied only by the
change in the season; the shepherd attends to his flock,
and the cowherd to his cattle; they have their distinct
duties to perform, but your man-of-all-work, however occu-
pied, can. never tell in what he may be engaged the follow-
ing hour. This peculiar position ; this continual liability
to be called upon in all emergences and on all occasions,
makes him a man of resources. He who is expected to
turn his hand to everything, has need to understand every-
thing, but I must here indulge in a few sketches.
ON SERVING-MEN, OR MEN-OF-ALL-WORK. 65

A friend of mine, a gentleman of independent fortune.
lives in a village, where his neighbours are mostly farmers ;
he must needs, therefore, do a little in the farming way him-
self, and succeeds as most men do, who merely make an
amusement of that which requires great attention. He loses
money every year by agricultural pursuits, but annual losses
cannot make him relinquish farming. These losses puzzle
him nota little; for, as he takes credit with himself for being
a wiser man than his neighbours, he cannot account for his
want of success. When farmers turn gentlemen, or gentle-
men turn farmers, they very seldom reap any advantage by
the change.

George Glossop is his man-of-all-work ; his employments
are varied, and he is seldom kept long at the same kind of
labour. George is suddenly summoned in all domestic
exigencies ; whatever may be his work at the moment, he
leaves it, and obeys his call. Sometimes he is despatched
with parcels and carpet-bags to the nearest town, and car-
ries burdens more fitted for a horse than a man of moderate
strength ; but he laughs at burdens that many would sink
under, and is proud of displaying the great strength he
possesses.

Lighter employment, too, is reserved for his ready fin-
gers, for George can clean boot-tops excellently ; fix a square
of glass when wanted in the kitchen windows; take a lock
to pieces, and put it together again; and cut hair: sometimes,
indeed, he crops the head of his master. He is very proud
of his acquirements; and once—but this was when he was
younger—he was about to leave his‘place, and seek his for-
tune in London, where he thought of succeeding as a hair-
dresser ; even now, when in his cups, he shakes his head,
and thinks he threw a chance away by neglecting to try his
fortune in the great city. But George is a shrewd fellow

»
66 RURAL PICKINGS.

when sober; he knows when he is well off, and will not leave
his place in a hurry. George taps the cider-casks, sets the
rat-trap, rings the pigs, and is a famous hand at carving
the heads of sticks. The bees once swarmed on a goose-
berry-bush by the garden-gate, and no one would venture
nea¥ them; but George swept them off with a wing into an
empty hive without fear. The great yard-dog was afflicted
with the mange, and no person liked to touch him, the
animal was so fierce and surly; but George tied the crea-
ture to a post, laughed at his growlings, and rubbed him
well with healing ointment. George is something of a far-
rier, too, and is disliked by the village butcher, because he
sometimes practises his occupation.

But it is at harvest-time that George is in his glory.
His daily allowance of cider, always ample, is then much
increased. He superintends the men hired to work at that
season of plenty, and enjoys his brief authority; for his
master asks his advice, and what George says is law at
harvest-time.

His master owns a field where the ground is very uneven,
and the loaded waggons totter dangerously, as they are
drawn along, upheld by labourers with supporting pitch-
forks ; but George directs their movements, and once, when
a waggon toppled over, his ready shout warned the rustics,
and prevented their being crushed by the falling load.

It would give you an appetite to see George at his meals.
He thinks more of quantity than quality at the dinner-table.
He is none of your nice ones. Plain dishes appear as
dainties to George Glossop,

“ George can get a job done better than his master; for the
labourers impose on the ignorance of the latter, as he often
discovers to his cost; but they cannot cheat his man-of-all-
work. They know very well that George’s skill is greater
ON SERVING-MEN, OR MEN-OF-ALL-WORK. 67

than their own, and slovenly work cannot pass under his
critical eye ; besides, he works with them, uses the same
implements, and is at once their overlooker and fellow:
labourer. |

A robust man is George Glossop ; he has not an ache or
pain about him. He loves a joke, and often whistles and
sings as he is at his labour. With the fine health he enjoys
he cannot choose but be cheerful ; his light-hearted laugh
is contagious, and those around will laugh with him.

George is ready to travel through lonely lanes at mid-
night, on foot, or on horseback, at his master’s bidding.
Though deep the mire he will go through, and rain and
sleet are defied by the hardy man-servant. His master
values his services, and would be sorry to part with him,
and George is likely to remain in his place, for he is, as I
said before, a shrewd fellow, and well knows that he has got
a kind and liberal master.

I might speak of Robert Hadley, of Edwin Horton, and
of old Samuel Green, as ‘each of them presents a distinct
variety in this species of man-servants; but as John Andrews
is a favourite of mine, I will give him the preference. John
values his place, the duties of which he has discharged many
years, and is justly estimated by those he serves, as a trust-
worthy and hard-working man.

John has the whole management of a large garden, in
which he takes much delight. His asparagus, peas, cab-
bages, and cauliflowers, are not to be surpassed, neither is
his onion-bed ever to be equalled. His flowers are superb.
There is nothing like them for miles and miles around.

In the stable are always three or four hackneys or carriage
horses under John’s care. Then there are the carriages in
the coach-house, which take up a great deal of time: plenty
of wheel-mopping, panel-cleaning, and harness-rubbing.

F 2
68 RURAL PICKINGS.

Add to these things the care of the cellar, with shoe-clean-
ing, clothes-brushing, marketting, driving the four-wheel
carriage, fetching and taking visitors from and to the neigh-
bouring town, errand going, and twenty other occupations,
and it will appear plain enough that John Andrews has no
time to be idle.

John is almost always in sight, or within hearing. If you
do not see him, you hear him talking with one of the servants ;
or digging in the garden; or watering the horses; or clean-
ing out the stable ; or tapping a cider-cask in the cellar; or
catching the young pigeons; or killing a rat in the duck-
pen; or mowing the garden-walk ; or clipping the hedge ; or
polishing a pair of boots; or brushing a great-coat; or
engaged in some other of his multifarious employments.

But the thing most remarkable in John Andrews is this,
that he is always ready at hand when wanted. It is a com-
mon saying of many, that if you want them they are sure to
be out of the way; but the reverse of this may be said of
honest John. I hardly ever knew such a thing as for his
services being required, and he not to be there to render
them. Send him of an errand, and call out ‘‘ John Andrews!”
ten minutes after, and you will find either that he has not
set off, or that he has been and come back agaip, just as if
he had anticipated that he would be wanted.

On twenty different occasions when I could have declared
that he was absent, has he proved himself to be present.
Only call out his name, and down the garden steps he will
come. He surprises me, too, by never being in a hurry.
Call him patiently or impatiently—as though you hardly
wanted him, or as if the house were on fire—there is no
delay in the one case, and no hurry in the other—wait one
minute and you will see John Andrews.

John has been ordered to a neighbouring town with a
ON SERVING-MEN, OR MEN-OF-ALL-WORK. 69

letter, he saddles and bridles the hackney he is to ride, and
you actually see him set off at a good sharp trot up the lane.
Presently he is wanted, and you hear his name screamed
aloud by one of the house-girls in the direction of the gar-
den. “Ay!” say you to yourself, “you may call for John
long enough, for by this time he is a mile or two off;” but
on going to. the window, you see John coming, just as usual,
leisurely down the steps from the garden into the fore court.
He was called back after you saw him set off; or, he over-
took a lad who was going to the town; or, he met the gen-
tleman'to whom the letter was directed ; or, some occur-
rence or other took place that enabled him to return to his
work in the garden, and to answer to the call when he was
wanted.

It is Sunday, and John, in his spruce blue coat, clean
gloves, and best brown leggings, the buttons turned round to
the front, brings to the gate the gig, or the four-wheeled
carriage. In you jump, and off you set, and after a sharp
run to the church, you expect to wait a quarter of an hour
for John; but instead of this, he is standing by the church-
yard gate waiting for you. He has come by @ nearer cut
across the fields, and is ready to hand you out, and to take
charge of the carriage just as usual.

During divine service, and even while the minister is
giving his blessing, you may see John in his customary seat
in one of the narrow pews—yet, when you arrive at the
churchyard-gate, there is John Andrews waiting with the
-carriage. Ay, and do which you like, walk, trot, or canter
back again, John Andrews will be there before you, without
any appearance of hurry.

There is to me a something that amounts to the myste-
rious in John Andrews being thus always in the way when
he is wanted. You may send him where you like, and the
70 RURAL PICKINGS.

distance may be small or great; but be sure of this, that he
will be back again by the time he is wanted. You shall
choose your own season—spring, summer, autumn, or win-
ter—your own day, except Sundays, from the first of January
to the last of December, and your own hour, from sun-rising
to sun-setting, whether the house be quiet, or full of com-
pany, and if you will only stand by the pigeon-house and
shout out ‘‘ John Andrews!” I will undertake that he will
appear. As sure as you have called out his name, so sure,
in one minute after, if you look towards the gate, you will
see, coming leisurely down the _" steps, the figure of
John Andrews !


CHAPTER XI.

——e-———

ON COUNTRY KINDNESS.

Sketch of spring.—The trees.—The birds.—The cattle-—The young colts.
’ —Children.—Grey-haired age.—Kindness.—The Duke of Portland and
his tenant.— Kindnesses and unkindnesses.— The rat-trap.— Kind
thoughts, feelings, intentions, words, and deeds.—A call on a country
friend.—Kindness to those who need it is of double value.

[ WILL speak of country kindness; but first let me give.
you a sketch of spring, not drawn with the pen only, but
with the eye and the heart.

It was spring; the sun was bright, and creation seemed
newly born, as though it had just burst into being. The
young branches of the trees shot upwards towards the skies,
seeking that heaven whose dews had watered them, and
whose soft breezes had nurtured them, as if to read a silent
and holy lesson to man. The earth appeared strewn with
flowers.

The children of nature rejoiced. Birds which had disap-
peared during the winter months, were now seen perched
among the green foliage of the trees, or skimming the clear
air alone, while those that had remained behind, seemed to
welcome the new arrivals with a song of ecstasy. The cattle
appeared to crop the fresh-sprung grass with a relish that
only fresh spring grass could impart; and the young colts
72 ' RURAL PICKINGS.

that had never seen a spring before, and were far too happy
to eat, kicked up their heels, whisked their tails, and gal-
loped round the pasture in their delight.

Children, little children, who had been cooped up for
months past, were now abroad in the arms of their nurses ;
while such as were a little older, were running about prat-
tling of daisies and primroses, laying up in their infant
minds scenes that would flash across their memory in after
days, when childhood, and childhood’s mirth, would be long
gone by. It was a time for joyous and pure and holy
thoughts, and for wishing to spend the rest of life with
peace and joy in the country, revelling among the beauties
of creation, and praising its Almighty Creator.

Age, with his grey hairs, was pacing to and fro; and Sick-
ness, with her sallow cheek, leaning on crutches, her tearful
eye raised heavenward, grateful for the sunbeam that fell
upon her, and for the balmy breeze that tasted like return-
ing health. Spring was, indeed, abroad ; the heavens were
lit up with sunshine; the earth teemed with happiness ;
and everything that had breath seemed to praise the Lord.

I hope you like my sketch: and now for country kindness.
In towns and cities people are so hurried, and have such a
world of things to do, that they seem hardly to have time
to practise kindness: it is not so in the country. There
kindness thrives like a tree, and grows, and buds, and blos-
soms, and bears fruit abundantly.

I love to meet with kindness in common life. Your high-
flying deeds of generosity that happened a long way off, and
a long while since, sound mighty fine in the ear, but they
hardly come home to the heart. The caliphs of Bagdad, if
what we read of them be true, flung about them their dia-
mond rings, and their purses of sequins, as freely as if they
had been pebble-stones, but these things do not speak to us
ON COUNTRY KINDNESS. 73

like commoner kindnesses ; they say not “ Go and do thou
likewise!” The following account of a kindness that much
pleased me, is related by a man of talent and integrity.

‘The Duke of Portland found that one of his tenants, a
small farmer, was falling, year after year, into arrears of rent.
The duke rode to the farm, saw that it was sadly deteriorat-
ing, and the man, who was really an industrious farmer,
totally unable to manage it from poverty. In fact, all that
was on the farm was not enough to pay the arrears.
‘John,’ said the duke, as the farmer came to meet him as
he rode up to the house, ‘I want to look over the farm a
little.’ As they went along, ‘ Really,’ said he, ‘ everything
is in a very bad case. This won't do. I see you are quite
under it. All your stock and crops won't pay the arrear in
rent. I will tell you what I must do: I must take the farm
into my own hands: you shall look after it for me, and I
will pay you your wages.’ Of course there was no saying
nay ; the poor man bowed assent. Presently there came a
reinforcement of stock ; then loads of manure ; at the proper
time seed, and wood from the plantations for repairing
gates and buildings. The duke rode over frequently. The
man exerted himself, and seemed really quite relieved from
a load of care by the change.

‘‘ Things speedily assumed a new aspect. The crops and
stock flourished: fences and out-buildings were put into
good order. In two or three rent days, it was seen by the
steward’s book that the farm was making its way. The
duke, on his next visit, said, ‘ Well, John, I think the farm
goes very well now; we will change again; you shall be
tenant once more. As you now have your head fairly above
water, I hope you will be enabled to keep it there.’ The
duke rode off at his usual rapid rate. The man stood in
astonishment ; but a happy fellow he was when, on apply-
74 RURAL PICKINGS.

ing to the steward, he found that he was actually re-entered
as tenant to the farm, just as it stood in its restored condi-
tion. I will venture to say, however, that the duke himself
was the happier man of the two.”

Now, believing (and I cannot but believe) this account to
be true, it does me good to think of it. There are those
who seem to think that none but great people can perform
great actions ; while others love to rail against those above
them, as though every lord and every duke was of necessity
a proud, parsimonious, flinty-hearted churl. These are mis-
takes that we ought not to fall into: there are bad and good,
hard-hearted and kind, in all degrees of life; and we ought
to give honour where honour is due, whether it be to the
rich or the poor. This act of kindness on the part of the
duke was performed with great discretion. Had he con-
tented himself with simply lowering the farmer's rent,
or forgiving him part of his debt, the man would, most
likely, have struggled on a little longer, and have come to
poverty at last.

Could the kindnesses of mankind be written in one
eolumn, and the unkindnesses in another, the latter would
no doubt make the longer catalogue. This ought not to be
the case; for surely there is more enjoyment in calling
forth a smile, than a frown; in binding up, than in bruis-
ing; and in gladdening another's heart, than in breaking
another’s head! ‘This remark will apply to all, but espe-
eially to Christians. Christianity without kindness is Chris-
tianity in disguise. A gentle child in a coat of mail, armed
with a spear, and an inoffensive lamb furnished with a
covering of porcupine’s quills, instead of a soft woolly fleece,
would be as much in character as a Christian with a churlish
spirit. To my mind, a waggon without wheels would
go along just as pleasantly as a Christian without kindness.
ON COUNTRY KINDNESS. 75

As shines the sun around on every hand,

And gilds with golden beams the sea arfl land ;
So a kind heart with kind emotion glows,

And flings a blessing wheresoe’er it goes.

I like to examine the thing that I value. The boy in the
fable, who killed his goose to get the golden eggs all at
once, was a greedy grasp-all for his pains; and he who cut
open his drum to look for the sound was no better than a
simpleton: these carried matters too far. But still, I do
like to examine the thing that I value, and to know of what
it is composed; for, in many cases, brass looks so much like
gold, and pewter so closely resembles silver, that unless we
pay to them more than ordinary attention, one may very
readily be mistaken for the other. It is just the same
in regard to kindnesses. Words and deeds which appear
unkind may be benevolence itself; and deeds and words
that have the semblance of kindness may, in reality, be the
bitterest cruelty. Reproof is unpleasant, and commenda-
tion is very agreeable; but it is kindness to reprove a fault,
and great unkindness to commend it.

It might appear rather unkind to dash from the hand of
any one the cup that he was raising to his lips; but if,
afterwards, it was explained that the contents of it were
poison, unknown to him who was about to drink, the kind-
ness of the act would be apparent. There are many
kindnesses of this description. The other day I saw a coun-
try friend bait a rat-trap: oh, how carefully did he cater for
the appetite of the long-tailed tribe! It was a “ dainty
dish” that he set before them; a tit-bit, to draw them from
their holes, and to furnish them with a delicate repast.
Any one not knowing the end for which this was done,
might have taken it for a deed of kindness, whereas it was.
76 RURAL PICKINGS.

the lure of death, the bait of destruction. ‘There are many
rat-trap kindnesses in the world.

Kind thoughts, kind feelings, kind intentions, kind words,
and kind deeds, are all delightful things ; and if their abun-
dance was equal to their scarcity, the world would be much
more like a paradise than it is. It would ill become me to
rail against the unkindness of the world, seeing that I have
hitherto met with so much more kindness than I have
deserved: but I speak comparatively ; for I cannot but
think, as I have before said, that could the kindnesses of
mankind be written in one column, and the unkindnesses in
another, the latter would make the longer catalogue.

An adventure that occurred to me last week, bears a little
on this subject of kindness. Yes, it was last week that I
called on a country friend, who paid me more than wonted
attention. This was observed by the domestics in waiting,
who instantly appeared to entertain for me all the respect
that was so evidently manifested by their master. They
seemed to have as much pleasure in bringing me refresh-
ments, as if they were intended for themselves ; there was
a forethought, a foresight, and an alacrity visible, that was
delightful. All my wishes were anticipated. Doors flew
open when I left the different apartments, as if by magic;
and it would have been a puzzling point for me to decide
whether John, Thomas, or William entertained for me the
greatest regard. In the midst of all this the thought struck
me, how very different the demeanour of the domestics
would have been, had their master treated me with neglect
or incivility. This ill-timed reflection on my part took away
much of the pleasure I before enjoyed. But thus it is with
the world. With almost all of us, “from Dan to Beer-
sheeba,” ay, from the Polar regions to Polynesia. Odd
ON COUNTRY KINDNESS. 77

nations, and odd notions have I heard of, but I have never
yet heard of a people so very odd as to pay particular adora-
tion to the setting sun.

Real kindness will rather pay attention to those who need
it, than to those who can command it; it will delight more
to raise the fallen, than to hold up those who are firm on
their feet; it will rather seek out the cause of the poor,
than that of the prosperous. There is no kindness in set-
ting a twig, that we may obtain from it a tree; or in giving
a piece of silver, with the hope of getting back for it a plece
of gold. Real kindness is a generous principle, as well as
a warm-hearted feeling, and to make others happy is its best
reward. We all love kindness, from whomsoever it comes,
but when extended to those who need it, its value is doubled
in our estimation.
= 336Ke—

CHAPTER XII.

——_-e—__

THE PLOUGHING-MATCH.

Attractions of the ploughed field.—The ploughing-match.— Fawley Court.
—The prizes.—The nine ploughmen.—Old Preese and the Prim-my.—
The spectators.—The bait—George Hodges’ care of his horses—The
large knife.—Farmer Street the Umpire.—William Howell gains the
first prize.—Old Preese’s wheel within a wheel.—Another ploughing-
match fixed for next year. |

‘THE country without ploughed fields would be robbed of

much of its interest, and Rural Pickings without some
notice of a ploughing match would be very incomplete. If
the meadow, the pasture, the hay-field, and the corn-field
have their allurements, neither is the ploughed field without
its attractions. The red-painted plough, the shining share,
the team, the sturdy ploughman, the jingling of the traces,
the shrill whistle of the jocund driver, the lark carolling in
air, the many-coloured foliage of the trees and hedges, the
spider's threads glittermg in the sun as they stream over
the ridgy furrows, the healthy freshness of the upturned
earth, and the balmy breath of morn, are too pleasant in
their influences to be spared. The heart is light and the
spirit joyous amid such scenes ; for health and cheerfulness
are abroad, peace and contentment shed their influence
around, exercise bounds along rejoicing, and lusty labour
smilingly pursues his useful occupation.

Time was when tillage was so little known, when plough-
THE: PLOUGHING-MATCH. 79

ing and sowing were so little understood, that such advice
as the following was not thought unnecessary.
“ Forget not when you sow the grain, to min
That a boy follows with a rake behind,
And strictly charge him, as you drive, with care
The seeds to cover and the birds to scare.”

Such advice, at the present time, would be smiled at by
the rustic labourer. But now for the ploughing-match.

A well conducted ploughing-match is not without great
advantages. It is an affair, too, of much interest in the
country. J will therefore give a full account of one at
which I was present last year.

As the most important part of our food is bread, and as
bread cannot be got without ploughing, sowing and reaping,
it is very necessary that these things should be done well.
It is to encourage good ploughing, that ploughing-matches
are made.

When I first heard of the match about to be described, I
was sitting in the great hall in Fawley Court, with a few
friends. Fawley Court is a large farm-house in Hereford-
shire, at no great distance from the river Wye. It is an
ancient stone mansion, once half covered with ivy, but now
the ivy is cleared away. It has old-fashioned projecting
windows, a porch door knobbed with iron, a large court-yard,
and a high pigeon-house. Report says that the brother of
the famous Kyrle, the man of Ross, once lived there; and
very likely this is true, for the porch door has an iron
knocker, with the letters I K and the date 1635 on the
round plate against which it strikes.

The great hall, the old pictures, the staircase of dark oak,
and the turret-like windows to the upper rooms, are all in
character, It was near Fawley Court that the ploughing-
match took place.
80 RURAL PICKINGS.

The day before the match, the labourers at the different
farms—Much Fawley, Little Fawley, Brockhampton, How
Caple, and others, were all in a bustle. Some said that
William Howell would be sure to win; others thought that
George Hodges, or William Jones, was quite as likely a
man; while old William Preese, who had been a soldier, set
them all laughing by telling them they might do their best,
but that he should be sure to get the Prim-my, by which
he meant the premium, or first prize.

At the ploughing-match there were four prizes. He who
ploughed four ridges quickest and best, won the first prize—
a pound and a crown; the second prize was fifteen shillings,
the third twelve shillings, and the fourth eight shillings ;
besides which, every man, win or lose, was to have a good
dinner. A pound and a crown, a good dinner, and an
increased reputation, are worth striving for. They are not
to be often won by a ploughman.

Into the field called the Long Field, at Much Fawley,
came nine ploughmen to strive for the prizes, their ploughs
having been carefully taken there in carts, that the points
of them might not be injured in the rough lanes. Farmer
Powell, of Fawley Court, sent three ploughmen; their names
were George Hodges, Thomas Hinns, and William Preese.
Farmer Higgins, of Much Fawley, sent also three—William
Howell, Thomas Jenkins, and James Cole; and the plough-
men belonging to farmer Gwilliams, of How Caple, were
William Jones, Robert Powell, and William Edwards.

The ploughmen were dressed differently; for though every
man wore a smock-frock, some had breeches and long
gaiters; some worsted stockings and short gaiters; and
others high-topped, hob-nailed shoes, with no gaiters at all.
There were black hats, white hats, caps, and straw hats
among them. To work they went, and in an hour or two
THE PLOUGHING-MATCH. 81

they made their horses, Dobbins, Blackbirds, Gilberts,
Dingers, and others, brown, black, and dappled-grey, smoke
famously.

The ploughmen had no drivers, but used their long cords
for reins ; with these they sharply flapped their horses sides
when necessary. The ridges to be ploughed were marked
out by sticks driven into the ground, with numbers upon
them. |

This ploughing-match was an unusual circumstance in
that part of the county, and it seemed to be quite as impor
tant, in the opinion of the ploughmen, as a field-day, or
grand review in the estimation of soldiers, It was a lively

scene to witness the smoking horses arching their necks
_ as they were hurried up and down the furrows; the plough-
men, all ardour, encouraging their teams; and the lookers-
on walking about from one part of the field to another,
giving their opinion who would be most likely to win.
The sere leaf hanging on the tree, and the scarlet hip and
the holly berry gave an added interest to the hedges, while
the bright blue sky overhead was delightful.

The ploughmen were very free in cracking their jokes.
One of them, who happened to see me occupied with my
pencil and paper, cried out to Thomas Hinns, “Thomas,
I'll gi’ thee my old hat, if all about this beant in Lamnon
afore to-morrow night ;” and old Preese again boasted that, do
what they would, he should be sure “to get the Prim-my.”

Kvery now and then country labourers came into the
field from the adjoining farms, drest up a little more than
commonly spruce, with a holiday smirk on their faces. And
there came, too, among many more, the Captain from Faw-
ley Court, in his shooting-jacket ; and farmer Powell, and
farmer Higgins, and an old man in a brown coat with big
buttons, and George Seal, the carpenter, in his fiery red

G
82 RURAL PICKINGS.

waistcoat and white trousers; and William Townsend, the
parish blacksmith, in his leathern apron.

While the ploughing-match was going on, three other
ploughmen were busy in the same field, contending for a
prize of twenty shillings, given by one of the members
of Parliament for the county; so that twelve teams and
twelve ploughmen were at work in the field at the same
time.

It was the middle of the day before the ploughmen
stopped to eat their breakfast, and to bait their smoking
teams, and then George Hodges spread a bundle of hay over
the backs of his horses, to keep them from catching cold.

When the men began to cut their bread and cheese,
George Hodges had no knife ; and when a bystander offered
to lend him one, which was very large, George said that he
was “afeared a fearing on ‘em wi’ sitch a knife as that un.”
He was afraid of frightening his companions by using such
a large knife: they might think him greedy.

After a while the ploughmen set to work again in good
earnest, every man doing his best. The horses worked none
the worse for their bait, the ploughmen worked all the
better for their breakfasts. By far the greater part of the
field was already ploughed, and, at the rate they were going
on, a few more hours would finish the remainder. The
nearer the men were to the end of their labour, the more
anxious were they about winning ; very few jests were heard ;
and even old Preese himself, as he moved the quid of
tobacco in his mouth, did not seem quite so sure that he
should win the “ Prim-my.”

At last farmer Higgins was seen with farmer Street, a
respectable man with some years on his brow, and possessed
of much judgment in farming affairs, slowly striding across
the furrows to examine the work done. Farmer Street was
THE PLOUGHING-MATCH. — 83

the umpire ; he had to determine to whom the prizes were
to be given; and he seemed to be very careful in making
his decision.

Take the ploughing all together, there never need be seen
better. George Hodges had a sudden bend in one of his
furrows, occasioned by his horses having been frightened,
and most of the other men had committed some little fault ;
but, as I said, take the whole day’s work together, it was
excellent. The furrows were straight, of just the right
depth and breadth, and well turned over. William Howell
had no sooner finished his four ridges than he set to work
to help his companions. How the horses did smoke !

William Howell won the first prize, George Hodges the
second, William Jones the third, and Thomas Cole, or
James Cole, (for I forget the right name) obtained the
fourth. Howell and George Hodges were in fine spirits,
and so were Jones and Cole. When old Preese found out
that he had not won the “ Prim-my,” he said that he
‘‘ knowed a thing or two: there was a wheel within a wheel
there.” However, the prospect of a good dinner kept both
winners and losers in good spirits, and old Preese declared
that he would make farmer Higgins’s “ bif” (beef) suffer for
his losing the “ Prim-my.”

The ploughing-match next year is intended to come off at
Fawley Court, so that, all well, the Captain in his shooting-
jacket, Seal, the carpenter, in his fiery red waistcoat, and the
parish blacksmith in his leathern apron, may again be seen
among the assembled labourers. William Howell, perhaps,
will once more enter the field; George Hodges, William
‘ Jones, and Thomas Cole strive for the prize; and old
. Preese have another opportunity of winning the “ Prim-my.”

G2


CHAPTER XIII.

—_@——_

BLACK JACK.

Common Patch.—The Graingers—Black Jack.—His cruelty, ignorance,
idleness and immorality.—The two mastiffs—Jack ties a canister to
the tail of one of them.—The distress of the poor animal.—Jack kills
him.—The farm-house.—Black Jack commits a burglary, and is seized
and held fast by a mastiff dog—He is tried for his life and con-
demned.—The gallows tree-—Black Jack is hung, while the mastiff dog
barks for joy.

N many villages there are strips of waste ground, on
which inferior cottages stand, and in most rural districts
there are a few poor people of bad repute, who have inhe-
rited, from those who have gone before them, a reputation
for idleness, dirty habits, drunkenness and dishonesty. Of
this description of land is Common Patch or Rushy Green,
for it is called by both these names, and of this kind of
persons are the family of the Graingers, of whom I am
about to speak.

There is a saying in Holy Writ to which the family of the
Graingers have paid but little attention: “ Train up a child
in the way he should go: and when he is old he will not
depart from it.” Children, honour and obey your parents !
Parents, with kindness instruct your children !

Watch o’er them well, come grief or joy
Tis but a prudent plan ;

For rest assured the tyrant boy
Will prove a tyrant man.
BLACK JACK. Shy

The Graingers have lived in one of the cottages on
Common Patch for three generations, in spite of poverty,
bad habits, and bad character. No one willingly employs
any of them, if other hands are to be had, and how they
manage to live, is a puzzle to many. Their cottage is a
mere wreck, with scanty furniture, and the dunghill before
the door is a forbidding object. It must be nearly fifty
years ago since Black Jack, one of the Grainger family, the
subject of the following stanzas, finished his disgraceful
career, but there are old heads and garrulous tongues in the
village, that yet love to narrate his adventures.

BLACK JACK.

Black Jack was an ill-favoured swarthy child
That acted a cruel part :
With a will that was stubborn, and wayward and wild,
And a hard and a wicked heart.
It pleased him well to impale a fly,—
To tear off its wings and to see it die;
He climbed the tree in wanton mood,
To take from the nest the callow brood
As they stretched out their naked necks for food :
And he laughed aloud when the deed was done,
As he pluckéd out their pin-feathers one by one. ‘
It was sad to see his cruel glee
As he placed them on the ground,
With a push of his toe to make them go,
Or to turn them round and round.
At the yellow frog and the speckled toad,
He loved a stone to fling ;
And he was the first to crook the pin,
To make the tortured cockchaffer spin,
And to pull off the butterfly’s wing.

Jack never was taught, in the days of his youth,
By his parents to read or to spell ;
86

RURAL PICKINGS.

He counted the boy, at the best, but a fool,
Who attended his class at the Sunday School,
And learnt his lessons well.
The Holy Bible was a book
In which he never wished to look :
He never bent the knee
In solemn prayer that God would hide
His sabbath-breaking sin, and pride,
Nor sought the Saviour’s grace who died
_ For sinners on the tree.
He never was taught to work at a trade,
That his bread might be fairly won ;
In idling where reckless companions abound,
In sauntering and skulking the village around,
And in picking up all that there was to be found,
His day’s occupation was done.
Deceit and cunning lurked upon his brow ;
He got his daily food—no one knew how.

Black Jack grew older, and stouter and bolder,
Till he was a stripling tall ;
A hectoring, loud-talking, cowardly slave
To his passions and vices ;—a hard-hearted knave,
Suspected and hated by all.
His dark, scowling eye had the leer of a lie,
And thick was his wiry hair ;
It grew down his back,
Stiff, bushy, and black,
Like the hide of a shaggy bear.
Oaths, wrangling, and strife were the joy of his life,
The glass and the drunkard’s song ;
The pothouse and cockpit were still his delight ;
How gleeful was he when he got up a fight,
Or joined with the bull-baiting throng !
Dark rumours spread the country round—
E’en yet the tales survive ;
It was whispered he wore a murdered man’s hat,
And though some in the place threw a doubt upon that,
Yet as for the widow’s poor tortoise-shell cat,
It was certain he skinned her alive !
BLACK JACK. 87

The sun was bright in the southern sky,
And his beams were flung afar ;

And two mastiff dogs, in playful mood,
Were engaged in a mimic war.

With eager haste they ran, they raced,
Now lost, now plainly seen ;

Their tails they waved, and their tongues they lolled,

And over and over again they rolled
On the grass of the village green.

’T was a pleasant sight to see their sport ;
Their pastime lasted long :

The one was small, the other was tall
And bony and active and strong ;

And Jowler loved his lesser brother

As much as one dog can love another.

Black Jack the weaker mastiff caught
When his strength began to fail ;

He held him fast, poor hapless thing !

With savage grasp, and tied with a string
A canister fast to his tail.

Away the dog flew, with a wild halloo
From Black Jack as he led the chase !
And peals of laughter, long and loud,
Burst echoing from the reckless crowd
That joined the cruel race.
Halloo ! Halloo !—Right on they flew,
O’er pathways rough and wide,
While brickbats, bones,
And sticks, and stones
The hapless cur pursued.
Black Jack was glad, but the dog went mad,
For his blood was set on fire ;
Heat, toil, and pain had scorched his brain
As he scampered through the mire.
The wretched thing ran, till he staggering stood,
Bedappled with foam and sweat and blood ;
The crowd soon came in view,
&8

RURAL PICKINGS.

And Black Jack laughed,
As his knife, to the haft,
He plunged in his side with brutal pride,
And cried, Halloo! Halloo !

Black Jack was a burglar.—At dead of night

He entered a farm house door ;

The stout-hearted farmer the robber withstood,

And the hand of the burglar was dripping with blood
As he tried to escape with his store.

As fierce as a dragon a mastiff sprang—
His hair stood up stiffly with ire ;

His mouth was full wide, and his teeth were well tried,
And his eyeballs flashed like fire.

No need was there for a loud halloo—

It was Jowler, the strong, the trusty and true ;

He knew Black Jack, at his throat he flew,

He cleared the brick wall at a bound ;

He seized his throat and twisted him round,

And held him tight, as he lay on the ground.
Jack wrestled amain,
But he struggled in vain ;

His calls of distress that were heard that night

Were drowned in loud howls of exulting delight ;
Black Jack in the morning was ta’en.

The news of murder flies apace,
And the tale soon spread afar :
Against Black Jack a bill was found ;
The day of assize came quickly round,
And the burglar was brought to the bar.
In sullen mood in the court he stood,
But his words were muttered low,
And his haggard cheek and hollow eye
Made known his inward agony,
And the big drops fell from his brow.
He forced a smile, but his courage fled
When the judge put the terrible cap on his head.
BLACK JACK, 8o

The words that he spoke coldly thrilled through his heart :—
** To the place whence he came let the culprit depart,
Then let him be dragged to the tree in a cart,
And be hung by the neck till he’s dead !”
From the burglar’s cheek the colour flew :—
No heart had he for a wild halloo!
But all was sobs and sighs.
He felt that his cruel course was o’er :—
He flung himself on his dungeon floor,
With death before his eyes.

The morn, the fatal morn arose,
And the heavens with clouds were hung ;
And the gallows tree, when the sun had power,
Its fearful shadow flung.
The Sheriff and his men were there—
With many a strong and pointed spear
In grim and gloomy state !
And old and young, together,—drest
Some in their worst and some in their best,
By thousands on each other prest
To see the murderer’s fate.
Tis hard a shameful death to die
While shouting thousands joyfully
With smiling faces stand—
But cruel hearts deserve the smart !
Black Jack stood upright in the cart
With an orange in his hand,
Remorse, without repentance prest
Full heavy on his hardened breast ;
He sobbed without control ;
But oh! the agony within !
The grinding, crushing weight of sin,
That prest upon his soul !
Jack mounted the ladder with trembling step,
And uttered an inward groan ;
He had loved the defenceless and weak to oppress,
He had freely delighted in others’ distress, »
And had, now, to endure his own.

fos
RURAL PICKINGS.

There arose, as the hangman the ladder withdrew,
A hubbub, a shout, and a wild halloo ;
The tumult was great and the cry was loud
For a dog was forcing his way through the crowd ;
It was Jowler the mastiff, the bold and the strong ;
With a courage resistless he dashed through the throng,
His eye-balls were bright with the hate that he bore,
For he knew Black Jack by the clothes that he wore ;
And he knew him, too, by his wiry hair
That grew down his back
Stiff, shaggy, and black,
Like the hide of a shaggy bear.
The dog was glad as a dog could be,
For he barked, and licked his lips with glee,
And he wagged his tail overjoyed to see
Black Jack as he hung
And writhed and swung,
To and fro on the gallows tree.

My tale is told, and all is o’er :—
The cruel bosom beats no more,
And death has had its due.
Then let the moral be imprest
On every ardent, youthful breast,
Humanity pursue !
Alas! for the suffering creation around,
How many Black Jacks in the world may be found !
The deeds that cruelty has wrought ;—
The punishments the crime has brought,
Are enough to make us start,
Who wickedly impales a fly,
And gazes with unaltered eye,
Has murder in his heart !
Of inhumanity beware !
The hard unfeeling deed forbear,
And kind and tender be !
Think of the tale that I have told,
Of honest Jowler, true and bold,
Black Jack, and the gallows tree !

CHAPTER XIV.

a

FARMING DUTIES.

The Bible read—The bell rang—The maids called.—The horsekeeper
roused.—The horses fed.—Calves suckled.—Cowhouse cleaned.—
Garden visited.—Ferry boat scooped dry.—Plough team examined.—
The water-trough filled.—The hogs fed.— Malt ordered.— Wheelbarrows
set to work.—Victuals cut for boys.—Wooden bottles filled.—Set
ploughs to work.—Ditching.—Attending to the manure.— Weeding
wheat.—Set carpenter to work.—Hedging.—Picking thistles.

PERSONS unaccustomed to the country can form but a

poor opinion of the great diversity of things that require
the attention of the industrious farmer. In all seasons and
in all weathers; at sunrise and sunset; in the house and
out of the house ; on foot and on horseback; at home and at
market, there are little things and great things that con-
tinually lay claim to his care.

The late Rev. Mr. Robinson of Cambridge was much
attached to farming, and entered into it with great ardour.
The following letter, written by him, will at once show his
industry, and exhibit a specimen of the varied lesser duties
to which farmers, in the course of a single day, have to
attend.

‘‘ Rose at three o’clock ; crawled into the library, and met
one who said,—‘ Work while ye have the light; the night
cometh, when no man can work: my Father worketh
92) RURAL PICKINGS.

hitherto, and I work.’ Rang the great bell, and roused the
girls to milking; went up to the farm; roused the horse-
keeper ; fed the horses while he was getting up; called the
boy to suckle the calves and clean out the cow-house ; lighted
the pipe; walked round the garden to see what was wanted
there ; went up to the paddock to see if the weaning calves
were well; went down to the ferry to see if the boy had
scooped and cleaned the boat; returned to the farm;
examined the shoulders, heels, traces, chaff and corn of
eight horses going to plough; mended the acre-staff; cut
some thongs ; whip-corded the plough-boys’ whips; pumped
the troughs full; saw the hogs fed; examined the swill-
tubs, and then the cellar; ordered a quarter of malt, for the
hogs want grains, and the men want beer; filled the pipe
again ; returned to the river, and bought a lighter of turf
for dairy fires, and another of sedge for ovens; hunted out
the wheelbarrows, and set them a trundling; returned to
the farm; called the men to breakfast, and cut the boys’
bread and cheese, and saw the wooden bottles filled; sent
one plough to the three roods, another to the three half-
acres, and so on; shut the gates, and the clock struck five ;
breakfasted ; set two men to ditch the five roods, two men
to chop sods, and spread about the land; two more to throw
up manure in the yard, and three men and six women to
weed wheat ; set on the carpenter to repair the cow-cribs,
and set them up till winter; the wheeler, to mend the old
carts, cart-ladders, rakes, &c., preparatory to hay-time and
harvest ; walked to the six acres; found hogs in the grass ;
went back and set a man to hedge and thorn; sold the
butcher a fat calf and the suckler a lean one. The clock
strikes nine; walked into the barley-field; barleys fine ;
picked off a few tiles and stones, and cut a few thistles; the
peas fine, but foul ; the charlock must be topped ; the tares
FARMING DUTIES. 93

doubtful ; the fly seems to have taken them; prayed for
rain, but could not see a cloud; came round to the wheat-
field ; wheats rather thin, but the finest colour in the world ;
sent four women on to the shortest wheats; ordered one

‘man to weed along the ridge of the long wheats, and two

women to keep rank and file with him in the furrows ;
thistles many; blue-bottles no end ; traversed all the wheat-
field; came to the fallow-field; the ditchers have run
crooked ; set them straight; the flag sods cut too much;
the rush sods too little ; strength wasted; show the men how
to three-corner them; laid out more work for the ditchers;
went to the ploughs; set the foot a little higher; cut a
wedge; set the coulter deeper; must go and get a new
mould-board against to-morrow; went to the plough;
gathered up some wood and tied over the traces ; mended a
horse-tree ; tied a thong to the plough-hammer; went to
see which lands wanted ploughing first; sat down under a
bush ; wondered how any man could be so silly as to call
me reverend ; read two verses in the Bible of the loving-
kindness of the Lord in the midst of his temple ; hummed
a tune of thankfulness; rose up; whistled; the dogs wag-
ged their tails, and away we went, dined, drunk some milk
and fell asleep; woke by the carpenter for some slats
which the sawyers must cut, &., &c.”

In rural retirement we sometimes pick up local narratives
of an interesting kind—tales that mingle much of the
romance of life with its more sober and common-place
realities. Such a tale I met with years ago, and as I
loitered alone on the hill and in the valley, and wandered
by the brook side and in the coppice, I weaved it into poetry.
It affected me when related in plain prose, and is, therefore,
not unlikely in verse to affect some of my readers.
94

RURAL PICKINGS.

A TALE OF LIFE.

I sat beside that man of years,

His busy fancy idly dreaming
Of by-gone days, and hopes, and fears :—

All flaxen white his locks were streaming.
He told me many a tale of truth,

Of hatred, love, revenge ;—and dangers
That he had pass’d in earlier youth,

When I and this fair world were strangers.
He told me, too, a tale of woes,

So truly sad, so full of sorrow,
It fill’d my heart with grief, and rose

To cloud my thoughts on many a morrow.
That aged man, infirm and frail,

Was wise, and good, and tender-hearted,
And thus he told his mournful tale,

Then wrung me by the hand, and parted.

A little rosy Girl and Bov

My pensive memory retraces,
With holyday, and hope and joy

Depicted in their happy faces :
Along the winding brook they stray’d

And pluck’d awhile the flowery heather ;
Then on the sunny hillock play’d,

And built their houses there together.
Mid sterner care’s engrossing power

How sweet it is—surpassing measure !
To witness childhood’s holier hour

Of innocence and guileless pleasure.
My feet had there enchanted been,

Till from mine eyes a tear had started,
But, while I gaz’d upon the scene,

They kissed each other, and they parted !
FARMING DUTIES. 95

They met again, when years had flown ;
In different paths their feet had wander’d,
And many a summer breeze had blown,
And many a task at school been ponder’d :
With more of boyishness than grace
He seized the silken band that bound her,
And, gazing on her smiling face,
He wreath’d his playful arms around her,
Too young to blend their love with fear,
What had their hearts to do with sadness !
Then burst away the wild career
Of frolic, fun, and sportive gladness.
But Time—that moves with heavy tread,
Trips lightly with the happy-hearted,
And soon their hour of pleasure fled ;
_ Too soon alas ! and then they parted.

Again they met, in passion’s hour ;
In manly youth and beauty’s bearing ;
When feeling reign’d and love had power,
And every tender thought endearing.
*T was not such love as bears the sway
When Sister meets a loving Brother ;
They could have sigh’d their souls away,
And lived and died each for the other.
Then rose the generous purpose high ;
Affection’s softer spells had bound them,
And visions bright came flitting by,
And the fair future gather’d round them.
But, while the secret subtile flame
Through both their conscious bosoms darted,
An unexpected evil came—
It cross’d their love, and thus they parted.

They met again ;—but oh ! how chang’d !
Their cheeks had faded ere that meeting,
And each fond thought had been estranged ;
Cold was their glance, and short their greeting :
96

RURAL PICKINGS.

As though the one in grief had sigh’d,

“ Alice! Is thus my love requited ?”
As though the other had replied,

“ My love—my life—by thee were blighted !”
The past came o’er them, and the darts

Of youthful love their breasts were rending,
But in their wither’d, wilder’d hearts,

Anger, reproach, and pride were blending.
Some fancied wrongs they could not brook ;—

Though desolate and heavy-hearted,
They turned aside—and with a look,—

A look of keen reproach, they parted.

Again they met ;—the silver hairs
O’er his deep furrow’d brow were flowing ;
And in her heaving breast of cares,
No burning thoughts of love were glowing.
I mark’d their glance, with keen distress,
For ill their smile with pleasure suited ;
It was a smile of bitterness,
And told of hatred deeply rooted.
And can it be where love has been,
That deadly hate can find a dwelling !
Is there on earth so sad a scene
As human heart ’gainst heart rebelling !
It seemed a solace to their grief
To think each other broken-hearted ;
A sweet revenge that gave relief
To their deep woes ;—again they parted.

Once more they met :—The churchyard ground
With shadowy pall and plume was clouded ;
And he was wrapt in thought profound,
And she in sable coffin shrouded.
With sudden frensy flash’d his eye,
And, as from horrid dream awaking,
He utter’d that unearthly ery
Which told us that a heart was breaking.
FARMING DUTIES. Q7

Speechless awhile he struggling lay ;
Nature gave way beneath that sorrow,
Bor senseless he was borne away :—
He was a corpse, before the morrow !
‘Where slumber age, and youth, and pride ;
The tender, and the iron-hearted ;
They lie together, side by side,
And they will never more be parted !

H
<~pes>

CHAPTER XV.

—

PICKINGS OF FIELDS AND MEADOWS.

Love of country.—Odd names of fields, with their significations.—A corn-
field.—A_ grasshopper’s garden.—Ploughed fields—Turnip fields.—
Brook-side meadow.—The fisherman.—Sunny-bank field.— Hop ground.
—The pretty meadow.—Winds.—The rocky meadow.—The Haws.—
Broad flat meadow.—Adventure of the mourning ring.—The river.

AND can it be that any one born in England can stand

upon her verdant hills, and gaze on her lovely valleys,
without a thrill of delight ? Can he look on the land of his
birth, with her fair fields, her waving woods, her running
brooks, her tall grey spires, her wealthy homesteads, and
pleasant cottages, without ranking her in his heart as the
first country under heaven? Go tell the Indian that the
land of his birth is no better than other lands! ‘Tell the
Switzer that his native mountains are like the mountains of
other climes; but their hearts will rise up to gainsay you.
All that has been dear to them is blended with their native
haunts ; and the Indian will not quit the wilderness that is
his home, nor the Switzer the mountains where he has been
cradled in the storm, for all that the wide world has to
bestow. Be England, then, as dear to Englishmen as other
climes are to those who inhabit them. Whoever has stood
on a mountain-top near the sea, on a summer's morning,
PICKINGS OF FIELDS AND MEADOWS. 99

and gazed on the rural landscape, has enough to describe.
No wonder that Beattie should exclaim—

“ But who the melodies of morn can tell ?
The wild brook babbling from the mountain’s side ;
The lowing herd ; the shepherd’s simple bell ;
The pipe of early shepherd dim descried
In the lone valley ; echoing far and wide
The clamorous horn along the cliffs above ;
The hollow murmur of the ocean tide,
The hum of bees, and linnet’s lay of love,
And the full choir that wakes the universal grove.”

Oh, how fresh, how soft, how sweet, how delightful is the
breezy, balmy air! My very spirit seems to breathe it and
enjoy it. The gale is abroad, winnowing the fields with its
viewless wings, and the clear, blue sky 1s peaceful and lovely
to look upon.

Last night the moon was gliding through the firmament,
and stars without number studded the sky, and now the sun
is journeying in his strength ; purple and gold are his robes ;
he flings around him a glory that blinds the eyes, and the
wide earth is lighted up by his beams.

How cool and refreshing to the eye is the verdure of the
fields! How beautiful the green foliage of the trees, and
blossoms of such as bear fruit! The distant hills and
mountains seem to blend with the sky beyond them, and
Nature is arrayed in her loveliest attire. |

The cattle low from the meadow, and the sheep bleat
from the pasture, while the delighted lambs race in the
knolly field. The beetle hides in the grass, the bee and the
butterfly are on the wing. The feathered fowl and the
warbling bird rejoice, and all created things seem to hold a
jubilee of joy.

The shrill call of chanticleer is mellowed by the distance

H 2
100 RURAL PICKINGS.

into music; the cuckoo’s voice is heard from the neighbour-
ing valley. The lusty husbandman pursues his labour ;
the milkmaid is singing; and, early as it is, children are
prattling by the side of the cottage.

The earth is adorned with beauty, and the heavens are
bright with glory; grateful scents, and lovely sights, and
melodious sounds prevail. Men, birds and beasts, and
creeping things partake of Nature’s festival ; cheerfulness
smiles on all ; laughter is echoed from the hills, and health,
and peace, and joy, are rejoicing in the Spring.

There are sweet pickings to be had of fields and meadows.
Some are liked on account of their forms, some are loved on
account of their situations, while others hold honoured
place in our memory and affection, because they are con-
nected with some pleasant circumstance, or agreeable asso-
ciation.

Odd as the names of fields frequently are, many of them
are full of meaning, while others are derived from their local
position, or from occurrences which have taken place near.
In former days it was a common custom to cut measuring
thongs from a bullock’s hide, and as much ground as one
skin thus cut into strips would inclose, was called “A hide
of land.” When William the Conqueror was king, a hun-
dred acres was called a hide of land, but, since then, smaller
portions have been called by the same name. The names
Great Hide and Little Hide, when given to fields, refer to
the ancient custom above described. In some parts of Eng-
land, a Hoppet means a small piece of ground near a house,
and in others a Paddock has the same signification. Hurst,
or Hyrst, is the Saxon for grove, so that Pole-hurst side, or
Pole-hurst-top, is a field by the side, or above a coppice.
Little Go is a short cut to a neighbouring turnpike road.
Steeple Land is a hilly field, whence a church with a spire
PICKINGS OF FIELDS AND MEADOWS. 101

may be seen. Bury isa residence, so that Abbotsbury has
some connection with the dwelling, or the history of an
abbot. Sted is a place, and flam a flame, so that F'lamsted
indicates a destructive fire, the memory of which it is
intended to perpetuate. Washy Bottom is a low marshy
field. Broom Hill is a steep piece of land where broom
grows, or once flourished, and Forty Acres is too significant
to require explanation.

- I wish I could paint a corn-field that I once saw of five-
and-thirty acres, bright and beautiful, ripe and ready for the
sickle! Fair as the sky was above it, and rich as were the
sere leaves of the hedges and trees around, yet I could not
dwell upon them. No! the corn-field, the rich, glowing
corn-field with its ruddy, golden-headed stalks waving in
the wind, rendered yet more attractive by a profusion of
scarlet poppies and blue corn-flowers, altogether absorbed
me: it was more than beautiful !—

Abundance was abroad, and rosy hours ;
A flood of sunshine, and a field of flowers !

Oh, what a garden has a grasshopper! He can roam
over the meadow, crowded with buttercups ; and the knolly
field decked with the daisy, the primrose, the cowslip, and
dancing daffodil. The blossomed bean-field and the sweet-
scented clover are his; and to him the mowing grass is a
thicket, and the standing corn as a forest of goodly cedars.

“ Happy creature ! what below
Can more happy be than thou ?
Sipping o’er the pearly lawn
The fragrant nectar of the corn,
Thine the treasures of the field ;
All thine own the seasons yield ;
Nature paints for thee the year,
Songster to the shepherd dear.”
102 RURAL PICKINGS.

L could dwell for an hour on pleasant ploughed fields,
with broad-breasted, sleek, black horses, arching their necks
and slowly walking along the furrows. Even now, I hear
the jingling of traces, the song of ploughmen, and the light-
hearted whistle of youthful drivers. I could talk of green
turnip-fields and of Brook-side meadow, a complete carpet
of buttercups ; the place is dear to the fisherman.

“ Beneath a willow long forsook,
The fisher seeks his customed nook ;
And, bursting through the crackling sedge
That crowns the current’s caverned edge,
He startles from the bordering wood
The bashful wild duck’s early brood.”

I might tell you of the appearance of Sunny-bank field,

with the spreading oak in its centre,
«“ When spring’s first gale
. Comes forth to whisper where the violets lie ;”
or of the hop-ground, such as it is when the ripe, bossy
bunches and curling tendrils hang from the hop-poles,
forming a field of bowers ; but I must not tarry.

I know a field called the Pretty Meadow, surrounded on
three sides by-a hanging wood in which, day and night,
through the bird-singing season, an unbroken harmony pre-
vails. The pendant branches of the different trees hang
over from the wood, and the grassy slope faces the western
sky, so that what with the redundant foliage, the warbling
birds, the grazing cattle, the azure heavens, and the broad
blaze of the setting sun, it deserves, indeed, the name of
the Pretty Meadow. Here, when the foliage is sere, and
the winds are abroad, may be seen the leafy aeronauts
voyaging high in air across the sunny slope.

“ Harp on, ye winds ! in glad content,
Your hymns on every instrument
Of rock, and mount, and cave :
PICKINGS OF FIELDS AND MEADOWS. 4038

The trees their joyful notes will bring,
Each flower, each blade of grass, will sing
Your measures glad or grave.
Who, who may tell whence ye arise
In what far region of the skies ?
In what high forest tree
Ye come as rustling hosts of war ;
As loosened cataracts afar ;
As thunders of the sea.”

‘There is a meadow in which I have loitered many a plea-
sant hour, called the Rocky Meadow, and hardly can any
thing be more romantic than its appearance. Five or six
huge cliffy eminences start up abruptly from the level below,
crowned with brushwood and large trees, while creepers, and.
falling plants, and wild flowers festoon the sides of the grey
rocks most fantastically. There may be a more romantic
field, but I do not know one. Beauty and fancy and pic-
turesque loveliness have built there their summer bower,
and sweetly dwell together. It is a place for the artist, or
the poet, or the man of contemplation who finds delight m
rural scenery.

The youth and modest maid may meet
In that secure and fair retreat,

The joys of converse sweet to prove,
And breathe the, breeze, and talk of love.

The Haws has already been described by a friend of mine,
and I can hardly do better than avail myself of the descrip-
tion. ‘Along one side, continuing some distance by the
hedge, was a sweep of lovely green grass, flat as if a garden-
roller had passed over it, with neither tree, root, nor flower,
save a daisy or a buttercup visible ; and then began the
wood of the Haws, or Hawthorn—in some places growing
thick and high, in others low and stunted, and, between the
104 RURAL PICKINGS.

prickly trees, a confusion of, I could almost think, every wild
plant, shrub, lichen, and flower, that grows.

“Gorse, moss and briar, root, branch, twig, thorn and
thicket, and, above all, high, straggling blackberry brambles,
stretched, tangled, and tied themselves across and across
every part which had any appearance of a path, so mingled
and matted together, that the cows and colts best knew
what was to be found further on, in this mazy labyrinth.
To me, the paths, if there were any, were impenetrable ;
and I could, and would, and did push and pull myself as far
as most people, in those days.

“ Amid this wilderness of shrubs and wild flowers, the
blue hyacinths or wild scillas prevailed. The place, where
they were in bloom, seemed a very fairy-land. Blue, such
lovely blue over head and under foot; above, the light
summer sky, and below, the deep blue hyacinth ; the latter
continuing as far as the eye could penetrate—in some parts
hiding and in others overpowering every other colour.

“ At the end of autumn the scene changed; all the blue
disappeared, and the whole wood was mottled and spotted
with red and black. Never, in my life, did I see such a
place for haws, hips, and blackberries. The latter covered
every brier, clustered in every opening, and straggled over
every bush. Turn where you could, look where you would,
nothing but haws, hips, and blackberries! blackberries !
blackberries !”

During a visit in the country last Autumn I went into
the meadows to gather mushrooms. How well do I remem-
ber the broad, flat meadow, reaching from the by-lane down
to the precipitous brink of the river, plenteously strown
with mushrooms. There they were, great and small,
flat-topped and globular; some brown, some almost inky
black, and others white as the driven snow. Reason
PICKINGS OF FIELDS AND MEADOWS. 105

have I to remember that meadow—but I will relate the
adventure.

While in the act of getting over the gate of the field, I
dropped a mourning ring from my finger. Now this ring
was highly estimated, being the gift of an aged relative,
whose memory was dear to me. It had inscribed upon it
the last sentence that fell from her dying lips in my
presence, and I would not have exchanged it for a diamond.
My desire to recover my lost treasure was in proportion to
the extent of my loss; so, drawing a circle round the place,
I proceeded to inspect, with a microscopic eye, the ground
beneath my feet, every inch of which I challenged with the
strictest scrutiny.

The hedge, close to the gate-post, was choked up with
dried leaves, so that there were a thousand intricacies into
which my ring might have fallen. A good hour, at least, if
meted by the “ Shrewsbury clock,” I spent in my fruitless
search. While gazing on the spot, a mouse ran out of a
cavity in the bank and disappeared down a hole in the
ground by the gate. On examination of this hole, it appeared
to be highly probable that my ring had fallen into it, and I
kept watching the place, under the fanciful impression that
little Brighteyes might possibly again make his appearance
with the ring around his neck. Alas! my fanciful expecta-
tion was not realised. Reluctantly I quitted the place and
entered the meadow, where I soon filled a large hand-
kerchief with mushrooms.

In the meadow I was joined by four young ladies, three
of them belonging to the family of my worthy host, and the
other a Major’s daughter who, like myself, was a visitor at the
farm. To them I communicated my loss, and in a jocose
way, partly real and partly assumed, descanted on the
advantages and disadvantages of losing a mourning ring.
106 RURAL PICKINGS.

To them I made known my design-of giving half-a-crown to
a quick-sighted lad to look for my lost ring, with the promise
of another if he found it. My fair friends directly replied,
that their eyes were as sharp as those of any boy on the
farm; and as four pairs of eyes would have an advantage
over one pair, they would at once proceed in the search.
It was a pleasant picture to see youth and beauty ardently

exercising their bright eyes in a kindly undertaking.

A churlish word and an act unkind

Will be as darkness to the mind;

While a generous deed shall a glow impart,
To light the eye and glad the heart.

With me it was almost a hopeless affair, but with my kind
friends it was otherwise. Hope, ardour, and perseverance
animated them, and at last, the young lady, the officer's
daughter, who had taken a more extended circle than
the rest, under an impression that the ring might have
rolled farther than I had expected, gave the joyous exclama-
tion, “‘ Here it is!” In the fullness of my heart I proffered
my acknowledgments, and impressed my thanks upon her
lips. Thus was my lost treasure recovered, and an addi-
tional interest imparted to my mourning ring.

I said that the broad, flat: meadow, so thickly strown with
mushrooms, reached down to the precipitous bank of thé
flowing stream, and fair is the wooded height on the opposite
side of the running water.

Who stands upon the steep may learn
A lesson from the river ;

How still deep water glideth by,
The shallow babbleth ever.

Thus oft affection in the heart,
Constant and strong abideth;

And onward rolls as silently
As the deep water glideth.


CHAPTER XVI.

—>~—-

A SPRINKLING OF RURAL ATTRACTIONS.

The dry ditch, old stone quarry, and lonely lane.—The grasshopper,
corncrake, and blackbird—The ploughman, shepherd, hedger, mole-
catcher, mower, haymaker, and reaper.—Field flowers.—Moors and
mountains.—Oaks, streams, and insects; sheep and horses, clouds,
orchards and clover field.—The frosty morning.—The moon, owlet,
weasel, and rat.—Sea-shore, ruined abbey, and country churchyard.

O a lover of nature the gratifications of the country are
unbounded. Spring, summer, autumn, and winter;
heat and cold, wet and dry; morning, noon, and night; all
add to the great variety presented to the eye and the heart.
Beauty reigns around, the skies are lit up with sunshine,
and unseen hands scatter our paths with flowers.
In summer-tide the laughing hours
Exult in sunbeams, fruit and flowers ;

And glittering diamonds adorn
The earth, when winter looks forlorn.

From the first streak of morning light to the last gleam of
closing day, one source of pleasure succeeds another. ‘To num-
ber up my own delights in the country would be impossible.
To use the words of an old friend,—I like to sit on the edge
of a dry ditch, where the dog-rose, and the bramble, and
wild convolvulus are seen; and the chickweed and hayrif
grow together, with the dandelion. I like to stand in an
108 RURAL PICKINGS.

old stone quarry, gorgeous with hanging creepers. I love to
mutter to myself in the lonely lane, to speak aloud in the
fields, and to sing on the wide-spread common, with my
heart as well as my tongue,—
“When all thy mercies, O my God,
My rising soul surveys;
Transported with the view, I’m lost
In wonder, love, and praise.”

I like to listen to the simmering sound of the grasshopper ;
the rapid tapping of the woodpecker against the hollow tree ;
the creaking cry of the corncrake in the mowing grass ; the
mellow pipe of the blackbird in the brake; the melodious
song of the throstle in the copse, and the sweet melancholy
music of the nightingale in the wood.

I like to see the ploughman at his work early, whistling a
sprightly tune, while the lark is warbling above him; the
shepherd, as he goes forth in the grey of the morning, with
his shaggy dog; the hedger, with his mittens, boots, and
bill-hook ; and the mole-catcher laden with his traps. I like
to look on the mower as he scythes down the long grass ; to
hear the laugh of the merry haymakers; and to see the
reapers cutting the corn, and gathering the sheaves into the
garner.

I like to gather field-flowers, the pale primrose, the yellow
cowslip, the purple violet, and the daffodil, dancing in the
breeze; to pick up the snow-white mushroom from the dewy
grass, to pluck hazel nuts in the coppices, and the ripe black-
berry from the straggling thorn. He who cannot feel
thankful to God for a blackberry, has no right to pluck it
from its thorny stem.

I like the heath-covered mountain and the moor; the
broken ground, thick with the bright yellow-blossomed furze ;
the red sandy rock, festooned with pendent plants and
A SPRINKLING OF RURAL ATTRACTIONS. 109

clinging ivy; and the lonely pond, choked up with long grass,
flags, and bulrushes. I like to slake my thirst at the spring
in the hollow of the green bank; to see the yellow frog leap
from the brink into the crystal water, gracefully diving to
the bottom; and to gather fresh green water cresses in the
limpid brook.

I like to steal behind the old oaks ina park, approaching
unperceived the stag, the deer, and the timid fawn, as they
lie in their lairs among the fern, or browze among the moss
and tufted grass ;—to hide myself in the wood, that J may
see the nimble squirrel mounting the tall trees, and creep-
ing into his warm nest, or leaping from branch to branch,
poised by his spreading tail.

I like to sit in a retired nook, on the brink of a stream,
overhung with tangled brushwood, watching the fish leaping
from the waves, and the moor-hen plashing among the roots
of the trees, under the high bank ; and to stand on the edge
of an old moat, whose dark and neglected waters are covered
with the broad leaves of the waterlily, when the rat ven-
tures forth, pushing his impeded way to the island in the
midst, or plunging suddenly beneath the water.

I like the singing and the flight of birds; the waving of
the yellow corn in the wind; the breezy, whispering sound
of the leaves on the trees, and the sedge on the river's
side; I love the fresh foliage of spring, the ruddy glow of
summer, the rich tints of autumn, and the bracing air of a
winter’s day.

I like to sit on a stile, under a spreading oak, when the
sun is somewhat declining in the west; to watch the busy
world on the wing; the birds warbling above me, the butter-
fly fluttering joyously in the sun, the gnats dancing in the
air, and the dragon-fly darting along the surface of the run-
ning stream. I love to fling bits of paper into the running
110 RURAL PICKINGS.

brook, and to watch their course; to gaze on the clear
bright water as it ripples over the red sand, or polished
pebble stones; and to follow, with scrutinising glance, the
sharded beetle as he hides himself in the grass

I like to wander in a wood, when the winds are abroad ;
when the trunks of the trees bend, the branches creak, and .
the rattling sere leaves are rudely scattered by the blast ; to
watch the rooks at eventide, as they skim along over farm-
houses and church spires, hills and valleys, woods and
water, on their way to the distant rookery; to stand on the
brow of the hill, as the shadows of evening approach, and
to listen to the tinkling of the sheep-bell, in the valley below.

I like to note the different features of the sheep, as they -
move about in the fields; to breathe the sweet breath of the
cows as they graze, or chew the cud in the meadow; to watch
the calves as they uncouthly run their races, scampering
along with their tails in the air; to gaze on the broad-
chested, heavy-heeled waggon-horses, neighing and kicking
up their heels on the green turf; and to muse and moralise
on old blind Dobbin, as he stands half asleep under the
shed, his ribs and hip bones sticking out, his lower lip
hanging down, and his off hind foot resting on the tip of
his shoe.

I like to pluck a bud from an overhanging bough, and
musingly pull it to pieces, admiring its wondrous construc-
tion, and thinking to myself, “No mortal eyes but mine
have beheld these hidden beauties ;”’—to gaze on the sunlit
clouds of heaven, till my cheeks: are wet with tears, and my
heart yearns for light, and life, and immortality.

I like to see the acorns and oak-balls on the knotted
oaks ; the fruit on the orchard trees; the wiry stems and
clustering hops in the hop-yard ; the straggling poison-berry
plant, with its red and yellow berries; and the flowery
A SPRINKLING OF RURAL ATTRACTIONS. lll

honesty on the hedges. I love to lean on the gate of the
clover field, where the bossy purple blossoms are pleasant to
the eye, and grateful to the scent; to watch the bees on the
flowers of the peas and beans; and to gaze on the ten thou-
sand green tops that cover the acres of turnips around me.

I like to start off, buttoned up to the chin, with my stick
in my hand, on a frosty morning, when the trees and hedges
are fantastically hung with rime; when the snow crackles
under my feet; when the glossy-leaved, red-berried holly
bush looks cheerful ; when the fieldfare is abroad ; when the
redbreast is tame and almost companionable ; and the snipe
rapidly wings his way along the half-frozen brook.

I like to gaze on the moon as she glides tranquilly through
the sky; to watch the changing clouds as the night wind
hurries them along the heavens, and to think how much of
peace, and joy, and happiness there is beyond them. I love
to hear the owlet hoot from the hollow oak; to see him
winnowing his way, with his long wings, to the old barn;
and to witness the stealthy rat and the weasel prowl about
the outhouses, and steal among the roots of the hedge-row
bank.

I like to stand at the foot of a craggy precipice, and still
better to ascend to its very crest, and there seating myself,
_ to look down on the fearful depth below. I love to listen to
the turbulent roar of rushing and falling waters ; to explore
caverns, to descend to great depths in the earth, and to
witness the awful sublimities of a midnight storm.

I like to loiter on the seashore by moonlight, and to look
over the wide expanse of water at mid-day, to mark the
fisher’s skiff and distant sail; to gaze on the swelling fringed
waves, till they exhaust themselves on the sands; to follow
with my eye the seagulls as they rise and fall; and to
watch the progress of the coming tempest.
112 RURAL PICKINGS.

I love to visit the mouldering walls of a ruined abbey or
castle, without a guide; to ascend the broken steps of the
towers ; to gaze on the dry ditch below from its battlements ;
to descend into its gloomy ‘“‘donjons,” and to stand “ alone,
alone, all, all alone,” in the grey silent hall, and call upon
those who cannot answer.

I like to visit a country churchyard, to find out the oldest
headstone, to clear away the moss that covers the name of
the occupier, and to make out the date when he fell asleep.
I love to lean on the old sun-dial; to muse under the old
yew-tree, and to read the inscriptions on the tombs, from
‘« Afflictions sore, long time I bore”—to ‘The Lord giveth,
and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the
Lord.”

I might draw out a much longer bill of fare of the
banquet provided for every one who delights in rural scenes;
but here is enough to quicken the pulse with pleasure, and
make the heart exult in its varied sources of gratification.
Lover of nature, get thee among the buttercups ; freely par-
take of the rustic feast set before thee; drink in the “spirit
of the golden day;” revel in delight, and let the upward
breezes bear on their viewless wings the incense of thy joy.
Sree MM Seco OS

CHAPTER XVII.



ON THE SKIES.

The influence of the skies—A clear blue sky.—A mountainous sky.—A
peaceful sky.—A fleecy sky.—A threatening sky.—An iceberg sky.—
A stormy sky.—A glorious sky.—A wild and fitful sky.—A burning sky.

JN treating on rural pickings, it would be a sad omission

not to dwell on the skies. In towns and cities, however
beautiful the heavens above us may be, they are shrouded by
smoke, or partly hidden by interesting objects, while in the
country the clearness of the air,‘the unbounded prospect,
and the beauty of the scene, enable us to enjoy them with
peculiar pleasure.

The influence of the skies on the mind of the thoughtful
spectator is almost as varied as the forms they assume. We
are soothed and excited, pleased and impressed, as the case
may be, by the aspect above us; and one glance at the
bright blue heavens above us makes us enjoy more the
green earth, and thankfulness mingles with our joy.

With what varied beauty the heavens are adorned! One
while the sky is clear, bright, and blue; at another it is
wavy, streaky, freckled, or fleecy; and then come clouds of
all kinds, snowy-white, silver-edged, dun, dark, and black.
. Now the vault above is burdened with the coming tempest ;
I
114 RURAL PICKINGS.

and now, wondrous bright and fair, goodly, glowing, and
glorious.

Sometimes the clouds are near, and at other times dis-
tant; now hurrying across the sky, and then slowly sailing,
almost motionless in their course. The wafted clouds that
curtain the space above us, gently floating onward, form but
a part of the picture.

“ For yet above these wafted clouds are seen,
In a remoter sky still more serene,
Others detached in ranges through the air
Spotless as suns, and countless as they’re fair.

Scattered immensely wide from east to west,
The beauteous semblance of a flock at rest.”

As “Old Humphrey,” who has paid some attention to
these things, truly says, “ There is a clear blue sky, when
the cloudless firmament imparts a tranquil cheerfulness, a
peaceful gladness to the gazer.”

The wide-spread azure canopy, from the zenith to the
horizon, presents the same unwearied yet lightsome charac-
ter: lovely is the blue expanse, and lovely the light that
mingles with it so harmoniously.

There is a mountainous sky where, from a sea of ether,
rise eminences of all kinds, hill, and cliff, and craggy steep;
pile above pile they recede, and fade away in the dimly-
descried distance. The eye and the heart may revel in such
a scene as this, till a voluntary tribute to such unequalled
beauty rolls down the cheek, and words of praise break
forth from the tongue. The winds hurry on the pointed hills,
and the sun comes and goes, giving a fitful variety to the
goodly group of moving mountains, till a giant eminence is
seen advancing.

Vast, huge, and high, the mountain mass is given
To lift from earth its awful height to heaven :

Wrapt round with gloom it sails along, and now
A sunny glory gilds its burning brow.
ON THE SKIES. 115

There is a peaceful sky, so delightfully calm and quiet,
that you cannot look upon it without thinking of angels, and
happiness, and heaven. ‘The blue expanse is not vivid, the
motionless clouds are not silvery-white, neither is the sun-
beam seen upon them; but all is sweetness and repose.
The heart is made soft, and the eye inclined to be tearful,
when such a canopy is above us. It may be that the days
of our childhood come gently stealing over us, and the soft
voice of our mother teaching us to lisp our evening prayer ;
or, perhaps, we hold communion with the spirits of those we
love, who are gone to glory, imagining their peaceful joys
and uninterrupted repose. An hour spent thus is more
profitable to the heart, and grateful to the affections, than a
day of feverish impulse, and thoughtless joy.

There is a fleecy sky, where the feathery flakes of one
part of heaven lie lightly on the blue beyond them ; while
another part of the firmament exhibits ‘‘ the beauteous sem-
blance of a flock at rest.” The musing mind is led on by
such a scene to quiet and consolatory thoughts. The
thorny. cares of the day are unconsciously extracted, oil and
balm are poured into the heart, and rural associations
embody themselves in the words, “The Lord is my Shep-
herd, I shall not want.” When we turn our eyes heaven-
ward our hearts often follow in the same direction.

There is a threatening sky, whose fearful and overwhelm-
ing aspect imparts, even to the thoughtless, a sense of
danger, and oppresses, with a sort of horror, the moody and
desponding. A sultry~stillness prevails, and a gathering
of dun, dusky, and dark masses is fearfully visible. ‘There
is a rolling onwards of the burdened heavens, as of a thick
cloud of black dust raised by the approach of a turbulent and
hostile multitude. Onwards it comes, and yet onward, till
suspense becomes painful. The firmament seems, even by

12
116 RURAL PICKINGS.

its portentous stillness, to proclaim that the tempest in his
strength is about to walk abroad.

There is an iceberg sky, whose mountainous masses, lit
up by the sunbeam, for purity, whiteness, and brightness,
would shame the very snow on the head of Mont Blanc.
There is every conceivable degree of repose and excitement
in such a sky, varying as it does, from the calm and lustre-
less vales of snow at the base of the pointed crags, to the
unbearable blaze that rests on the summits of their sunny
peaks.

There is a stormy sky, when the gathered artillery of
heaven is at length ready to pour forth its thunders. The
huge black clouds can no longer bear each other’s weight ;
the lurid glare in the south gives a deeper gloom to the
frowning sky ; the wind rises, and in fitful sweeps, whirls
round and round, bending the giant trees, while the big
drop falls heavily, here and there, on the thick foliage.
Thus, for a moment, the tempest withholds his rage, toying
with the things of earth, till, all at once, the lightning
launches itself from the ebon clouds ; crash comes the
thunder-clap, as if it would rend in twain the heavens, and
Jown comes the drenching deluge from above! Fearful is
this by land, but unutterably fearful where the tormented
waves of mighty ocean, lashed into fury by the winds, rise
in resistance to the storm.

There is a glorious sky, when the “ king of day ” advances
from the east,“ as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber,”
right royally arrayed in glittering robes of purple and gold.
The kindling light shoots far and wide, and hues of all
kinds beautify the glowing heavens. At last, burning his
way from the horizon upwards, comes the sun, blazing with
intense and concentrated effulgency. ‘The sky, at the close
of the day too, is often like this; and I have seen, on some
ON THE SKIES. 117

occasions, such streams of brightness pouring down through
the openings in the clouds, as to suggest, to my fancy, the
thought that angels were letting out a flood of glory from
the reservoirs of heaven! I have noticed, also, not unfre-
quently, the setting sun looking out from a line of light,
with a dark cloud just above and below him, so that the
declining orb has appeared to my fancy, like the pupil of a
seraph’s eye, to give a parting glance at the world. If you
are a lover of the works of creation, these things may be
familiar to you.

There is a wild and fitful sky, when the shadowy masses
in the heavens appear in confusion, and the light comes and
goes suddenly. The moon is seen gliding swiftly through
the sky, as on an urgent errand, ever and anon hidden by
the shadowy hills through which she journeys; and the
changing clouds hurry on in an opposite direction, as though
time-pressed, or scared by the impelling blast. The accus-
tomed peaceful aspect of the vault above is gone. The
agitated heavens appear alarmed, and the imaginative mind
grows enthusiastic. There is much of beauty, but more of
sublimity in such a sky; I love to gaze upon it.

There is a burning sky, so red, and bright, and glowing,
‘that one might almost suppose the clouds had caught fire,
and the wide-spread firmament was in a blaze. I have stood
picturing, in the vault above me, villages, and towns, and
cities, seemingly in a conflagration ; and then another fanci-
ful thought has struck me, that heaven was specially illu-
mined, and angels holding a jubilee of joy. Ifmortal men
have such glowing scenes spread before them, what must
angels and glorified spirits have to gaze on?

Such scenes as these are not to be looked on by him who
revels in the works of his great Creator, without having his
118 RURAL PICKINGS.

mind moved with high-wrought aspirations. ‘The bright,
the beautiful, the glowing and glorious skies influence his
heart, and selfish thoughts give way to those of kindness,
love, and peace, and purity, and heaven.

—i-——
DAS

CHAPTER XVIII.
COUNTRY STROLLERS.

Beggars. — Pedlars. —Chimney-sweeps. — Sailors. —Man with bears and
dancing dogs.—Showmen.—Gipsies, with their character and occupation.
—Gipsies in Spain.—Gipsy girl.—Gipsy adventure.

J] COULD never help regarding among the pickings of the

country, the strollers of different kinds that visit, at uncer-

tain periods, the villages and farm-houses. Often have I

wondered how it could answer the purpose of a beggar to

trudge into a retired and thinly-populated neighbourhood,
where a few scraps of broken victuals, and an occasional
mug of beer or cider would be the utmost of his gains, for
it is not often that money is given away at farm-houses.

There must be a real love of wandering in the case. True

it is that they may, now and then, treat themselves with a

fresh twnip from the fields through which they pass, and

with a little fruit from the orchards, but even with these
advantages, the profits of the day must be but small.

The beggar, however, is but one among the many
strollers, who, in different ways, lay their contributions on
the farms and villages. The light-hearted pedlar, with a
pack on his back, and a box before him well supplied with
skeins of silk, balls of thread and cotton, pins, needles, stay
120 RURAL PICKINGS.

and boot-laces, thimbles, penknives, scizzars, pincushions,
ribbons, kid-gloves, small looking-glasses, and jewellery, very
like gold, makes his way to many a back door, hoping to
find a customer in the cook or the housemaid. There he
stands, now cracking his ready joke, and now recommending
his glittering tinsel.

There is that in a pedlar’s box - which, of itself, when
exposed fully to view, is quite enough to affect wiser heads
~ than those of Sally and Susan ; no wonder then, that when
assisted by a seducing tongue, the pedlar should be irresist-
ible. Give him fair play, and he will not only contrive to
sell a yard and a half of blue ribbon to the cook, and a pair
of earrings to the housemaid, but, also, put off a shawl to
their mistress.

Chimney-sweeps are fond of visiting farm-houses, going
from one to another as a matter of course; taking money,
eating a meal, and carrying away their soot on a rough pony
or shaggy donkey; sometimes sleeping in a barn, and at
other times bivouacking under a hedge or tree.

Now and then a sailor makes his appearance with a ship
on his head, her sails set, and her sky-scrapers stream-
ing in the wind. His blue jacket, check shirt, and black
silk handkerchief, work wonders for Jack among the simple-
hearted villagers, and all that he tells them is listened to
with attention.

Some strollers make more noise than others: the dull,
heavy, thumping sound of the tabor, and the shrill tone of
the pipe are heard. Then comes a tall, thin man, in a
cocked hat and loose great coat, leading a bear by his chain.
On the back of the bear sits a monkey in a red jacket, and
two or three dancing dogs are slowly walking in the rear,
with yellow and blue petticoats. In ten minutes the whole
village is in an uproar.
There is another country stroller, whom all must have
seen, and that is the old showman: with his raree-show on
his back, he limps into the village, stumping along on his
wooden leg, and soon he has a goodly troop of children at

his heels. I love to see the sturdy little rogues in all their

glory.

COUNTRY STROLLERS.

I love to gaze upon a noisy throng

Of childish madcaps, for their boisterous mirth
Instructs me, ere the heart has learned to brood
On future ills, how little is required

To make the cup of happiness o’erflow.

It was but yesterday that such a throng
Peopled my path, and in the midst a man
That bore a puppet-show upon his back.

His fustian coat. and doublet, in their day,

No doubt had other wearers, for they hung
Loosely upon his lean and lanky frame.

His hat, of many shapes, but ill concealed

A brow of wrinkles, and the two thin locks

Of flaxen hair, that gently rose and fell

As the breeze altered, told a tale of years.

His face was thin and sharp, and looked as though
The wasting hand of time had not alone
Disfeatured him, but want and daily care.

His hollow eye, familiar with distress,

Was fitful as it wandered to and fro

In quest of childish customers ; at last

He fixed his puppet-show upon its stand.

I paused and gave the needy wretch a piece,

A silver piece, and bade him treat the throng.
Oh, what a sudden glance of joy he gave!

And what a rush took place amid the group
To gaze upon the wonders he described ;

The old man laughed, and showed his toothless gums,
And patted one, and set another up

Upon his little stool, and pulled the strings

Of knotted catgut with a readier hand.
122 RURAL PICKINGS.

The man was happy, and the childish throng—

I happier still in having made them so.

“ O, then,” thought I, “ if one poor silver coin
Can chace away the gloom of want and care,
And gild with joy and sunny smiles the brows .
Of youth and age—it were a sin to leave

An unturned, useless tester in my purse !

In kindly deeds a niggard is unwise ;

For we are happier when we freely give,

And richer when we spend than when we spare.”

But of all country strollers give me the gipsy, with his
sparkling eye, Indian complexion, and coal-black hair. Gip-
sies are a strange people, and exercise a strange influence
wherever they go. Hardly is there a wilder or a more
romantic scene than that of a gipsy camp in which old men
and young men, women, girls, and children are mingled
together ; the women, with their brown faces and sparkling
eyes, habited in red cloaks, black beaver hats, or black
bonnets with handkerchiefs on their heads, tied under the
chin. Gipsies still retain their wandering and predatory
habits, but they seldom indulge now in the fearless enter-
prises and daring deeds in which they formerly took delight.
Their encampments in the shady nook by the way-side,- on
the edge of the common and skirt of the wood, may yet be
seen, but, for the most part, their delinquencies are confined
to hedge-pulling, poaching, and petty thefts. Seldom indeed
do their outbreaks include a burglary and deed of violence.
Find them where you may, in the summer months, they are
sure to be living in tents, dealing in horses, mending pots
and kettles, selling baskets, fiddling, and telling fortunes.
There is a place in my heart for the gipsy tribe; for though
I cannot tell whether they are Indians or Hindoos, Egyp-
tians or Arab Ishmaelites, I know that they are “ strangers
within our gates.” For more than three thousand years

v
COUNTRY STROLLERS. 128

have they been wandering fugitives in all countries, speak-
ing an Oriental language, and following out their own
customs.
“« Now came in groups the gipsy tribes,
From northern hills, from southern plains ;
And many a panniered ass is swinging
The child that to itself is singing
Along the flowery lanes.

“ Stout men are loud in wrangling talk,
Where older tongues are gruff and tame ;
Keen maiden laughter rings aloft,
Whilst many an under voice is soft
From many a talking dame.

_ « Their beaver hats are weather stained ;—
The one black plume is sadly gay ;
Their squalid brats are slung behind
In cloaks that flutter to the wind,
Of scarlet, brown, and grey.”

In Spain gipsies are called Gitanoes, and often are their
swarthy fingers employed in striking the guitar in the
romantic woods of that country. A passage in Cervantes,
freely translated, would be something like the following :—

“We gipsies are lords of the fields and of the flowery
meadows, of the woods and of the mountains, of the streams
and of the rivers. The woods offer us fuel for nothing; the
trees, fruit; the vines, grapes; the garden, herbs ; the
streams, water; the river, fish; and the plains, game: a
shadow, the mountains; fresh air, the rifts in the rocks ;
and the caves, habitations. For us the inclemencies of the
heavens are pleasant airings ; the snows are refreshing, the
showers are baths, the thunder is music, and our flambeau
is the lightning flash. To us the hard ground is pleasant as
softest feathers, and the tanned skin of our bodies is an
124 RURAL PICKINGS.

impenetrable armour that defends us. Our light limbs are
at liberty, and neither rugged path nor barrier repels us.
Honour, ambition, and faction disturb not our repose:
dearer to us than gilded ceilings and sumptuous palaces are
our movable tents. Instead of Flemish paintings in gilded
frames, we have those given us by Nature in these lofty
mountains and snow-topped rocks, extended plains and
thick woods, which meet our eyes in every direction. Ina
word, we have all that we desire, and are content with what
we have. We are rustic astrologers, sleeping in the open
air: we know the hours of night, for the stars are our time-
piece. We sing in the prison, and we are silent on the
rack: we turn the same face to the sun and to the storm,
to barrenness and abundance.”

Among gipsies, models of beauty are sometimes to be
found; the fresh air they constantly breathe, their daily
exercise and freedom from restraint, all conspire to give
them a peculiarity, a wildness and witchery unseen among
other classes. I once came suddenly upon a young gipsy,
in the act of pulling a hedge ; as she hastily turned towards
me, scared by my appearance, she seemed to me the most
perfectly formed of all created beings mine eyes had ever |
gazed on—her red petticoat, stays, and loose handkerchief,
were almost her only clothing, but her sunny brow, and
ruddy cheek, heightened by a blush, her raven hair, and
exquisitely formed foot and ankle, arm, neck, and shoulders,
were beyond description beautiful. Paintings have I seen of
gipsies, that were considered lovely, but they were all sha-
dows compared to the sun-bright gipsy girl I have so im-
perfectly described.

I remember hearing a strange account of three gipsies,
which I will relate. It happened that a gentleman had an
unusual abundance of fine grapes in his hot-house, and his
COUNTRY STROLLERS. 125

gardener boasted, far and near, that such grapes were not
to be had in the country. This information soon reached
the ears of a numerous gang of gipsies, who had encamped
on the skirt of the common hard by.

The gipsies had boiled their evening pot, suspended from
three sticks—they had supped,. played on the fiddle, and
retired to rest, some under the tent, some stretched at full
length under an old oak tree, and some lay round the cart,
"by the side of their donkeys.

The old mother gipsy was very ill, indeed it was thought
she was at the point of death, but that. did not restrain the
rest of the gang from following out their reckless pursuits
and light-hearted mirth. For some time the old woman
could eat nothing that the gang could bring her ; at last she
cried out for grapes. |

At dead of night, when the stars were glittering in the
sky, and all was silent around, a stout young fellow gently
stole from the encampment, passed down the dark lane,
and, tearing a stake from the hedge, proceeded on his way
to the gentleman’s garden. The wall was high, but he
soon clambered over it; in another minute or two he had
found his way to the glass door of the hot-house.

No sooner had the young gipsy placed his stake under
the door, and wrenched it open, than a wire fastened to it,
set a large bell at the top of the hot-house ringing. The
gipsy turned round hastily to make his escape, but was con-
fronted by two men, who at that moment arrived at the
spot. Accustomed to danger, he lost not his self-possession,
but resolutely attacked his enemies. A blow from one of
them dashed him back against the glass door, but in a
moment he again grappled with them both, and all three
struggled for their lives.

The ringing bell, and the jingling glass, soon brought
126 - RURAL PICKINGS.

half a dozen servants to the scene of contention, when the
light of a lantern discovered to them three men throttling
each other on the ground.

The servants dragged them asunder, and led them away,
one by one, to different places of security for the night—
what was the surprise of the culprits in the morning to find,
when placed together, with their hands tied behind them,
that they all belonged to the same gang. The old father
gipsy had resolved, cost what it would, to get a few bunches
of the best grapes in the country for his dying wife, and his
two sons, unknown to him, and to each other, had also
formed the same resolution, for the sake of their dying
mother.

It was a daring enterprise, and one that under common
circumstances, would have been visited with great severity,
put so pleased was the gentleman with the attachment of
the gipsies for their aged and dying relative that, after a
suitable reproof, in which he pointed out to them how much
better it would have been to have made known to him the
object they had in view, than to break the laws of God and
man, he pardoned their crime in admiration of their affec-
tion, sending them away laden with the best grapes his hot-
house would afford.
Va Chest

CHAPTER XIX.

—-e—- -

LONELY PLACES IN THE COUNTRY.

Lonely houses.—Lonely lanes.—Lonely pools.—Lonely clumps of trees.
—Taggard’s Tump.—The cluster of elms.—The school girls.—The pie-
finch.—Robert Andrews.—Alice and her lover.—The robbers.—The
wounded horseman.—The booty.—The quarrel.—The widow Allen.—
The idiot boy.— Above the stars.

‘THERE are in country places, here and there, lonely

houses, tenantless and in ruins, standing, in lonely situa-
tions. The roofs are fallen in, the windows are broken, the
doors hang on one hinge, and the hollow wind mournfully
moans through their gloomy chambers. The villagers say
that strange sounds have been heard, and strange sights
have been seen there in the midnight hour.

What time the timid traveller hears
His cheek is seen to change,

And breathlessly he doubts and fears
A tale so wild and strange !

These deserted dwellings have the reputation of being
haunted, and even the labourers of the neighbouring farms
at night-fall avoid them. The “ haunted house,” the ‘ragged
windows,” and the “ unked hall,” are dreary in the day, and
night almost dreadful.

The unked mansion is a gloomy place—
Old men in whispers tell a fearful tale

Of the last tenant, and the listening ear
Drinks in the dread narration greedily.
128 RURAL PICKINGS.

There are lonely lanes leading to nowhere, and narrower
avenues branching out from them, ending in patches of
rough common land, which the very owners seem to have
forgotten. There you may stand or sit, read or muse by
the hour, without fear of intrusion. The chaffinch chatters
there at your approach, and the rook, or the crow, winging
his way above your head, scared by your unexpected appear-
ance, caws aloud, and suddenly wheels round from his
intended course.

There are lonely pools im deep hollows, whose dark
waters are covered with the leaf of the water-lily, and
choked with bull-rushes and sedgy grass, with overhanging
trees and straggling bushes on either side. Here leaps the
pike, and heres plashes the moor-hen and the water-rat, but
rarely does a human foot approach the shadowy spot. Such
places are not without their attractions.

There are lonely clumps of trees on the high hill, or on
the common, or by the way-side, to which strange, wild
stories are attached, but I must tell of one of these more at
length, and for this purpose will give you a sketch from the
pages of the “ Visitor.”

On the skirt of a village of some note, and at about bow-
shot distance from the toll-gate road, stands a romantic
mound of earth, called Taggard’s Tump. From time imme-
morial it has borne this name, and many wild traditions are
current among the olden inhabitants of the village, concern-
ing its origin; but as these are very vague and very impro-
pable, it is hardly worth while to dwell upon them.

At the present day, Taggard’s Tump, which is a knoll, or
round hill of small dimensions, is partly covered with a
group of ancient elms forming a circle, whose diameter may
be some eight or ten yards. ‘The spreading branches of
these trees canopying the green sod in the circle beneath,
render the place attractive ; and many a stranger, before be
LONELY PLACES IN THE COUNTRY. 129

passes on, pauses there, and turns aside for a moment to
meditate in the grateful shade. It is, indeed, an imposing
spot; and a lover of nature will not stand unmoved in that
natural temple, whose living columns, shooting far upwards,
terminate in a roof of verdant foliage fluttering in the
breeze ; every interstice admitting the grateful brightness of
the azure heavens.

The elm is, and always has been, my favourite tree; nor
_ have the gigantic stems, the goodly branches, the beauteous
bark, or the flaky foliage of other forest trees won away
from it aught of my fondness and regard. I find in it—tak-
ing it altogether—more grandeur, picturesque beauty, and
variety, than in any other British tree. No wonder that,
with so strong a predilection for the elm, I should frequently,
in my rambles, have sought the friendly shelter of Taggard’s
Tump, both from dazzling sunshine and the passing shower!
I have stood alone, surrounded by those bulky stems and
aspiring branches, when the morning dews spangled the
grass with pearls, and when the shades of evening were
gathering around: when the midday sun was blazing in
the south, and when the midnight hour prevailed ; and all
around was obscurity, stillness, and solemnity.

The clustering elms on Taggard’s Tump are the first to
catch the beams of the rejoicing sun, and the last to lose
his retiring rays—among their branches. the feathered
songsters warble their early matins and retiring vespers !
The busy world goes by unheeded—the beggar with his
wallet, the peer with his goodly equipage; beauty in her
gay apparel, and want in rags; joy with his smiling face,
and sorrow with her brow of care; as well as the pass-
ing pageants of the gay bridal party, and the solemn funeral
procession. .

There, is that in natural and rural scenery which always

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130 RURAL PICKINGS.

excites me; and whether it be the stately tree, or the
bladed grass and tufted moss beneath my feet, that attracts
my attention—in either case my heart opens to pleasurable
emotions. Had I no more gratifying object to call forth
my admiration and joy, I could ponder with pleasure on a
bed of stinging-nettles, and rejoice over & toadstool.

Having just returned from a summer ramble, I have left
the high-road, and sought the imposing shade of the goodly
elms on Taggard’s ‘Tump, waving, as they do, their redun-
dant foliage in the breeze. All is still, but the whispering
of the goodly grove above and around me. Not a footfall,
nor a distant sound, breaks upon my ¢ar. As I gaze upward
at the leafy canopy, that pold and striking metaphor of holy
writ comes to my remembrance, “ The mountains and the
hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the
trees of the field shall clap their hands.” —Isa. lv. 12.

Many, in such a place and season as this, would be a
little fanciful; and, to own a truth, I feel that I am becom-
ing so; my mind is presenting to me figures, such as may
have stood where I am standing, and painting scenes
which may have occurred, by day or by night, beneath and
around these trees. While I am in the mood, I will note
down such of these imaginary scenes as have an air of
probability.

It is the afternoon of a summer's day, and three or four
schoolgirls are sitting beneath the. grateful shades of the
overbranching elms, learning their lessons. They have
had a scamper around the ‘Tump, and one has occasioned
another to fall. A hasty word of reproach from the fallen,
and a declaration from the offender that she did not intend
to throw her schoolfellow down have passed; the dusty frock
has been shaken ; a reconciling kiss has been given; and,
with good-humour in their faces and peace in their hearts,
LONELY PLACES IN THE COUNTRY. 1381

they are conning over the lessons they will soon be called on
to repeat.

It is spring, and a piefinch has built her nest in one of
the branches of the elm, ten or a dozen feet from the ground.
There she has sat on her speckled eggs, and there she has
hatched her little ones. Who can tell the fondness of the
feathered race for their young! Alas! the nest is robbed,
and the poor, unfledged helpless ones, after being pushed
along the ground, by the foot of their oppressor to make
them tumble over, are being inhumanly pelted with stones
from a distance, to the great anguish of the parent bird. It
is Robert Andrews that does this cruel deed; but little does
he get for his pains, for a companion, in throwing at the
birds, has struck him in the face with the stone, and
quenched the sight of one of his eyes for ever. Months
have passed, there is a dog-fight beneath the trees, and one
of the dogs is just worried to death; the fight was got up
by Robert Andrews, whose thumb has been bitten half off
in the scuffle. Years have rolled away, a battle is bemg
fought in the green circle by the two young men; one of
them, a brawling and blaspheming reprobate, has his collar-
bone broken: it is Robert Andrews! Again it is summer,
and a ruffian-like fellow is being taken by in handcuffs—he
has committed a burglary—the burglar is Robert Andrews !
It is autumn, and an inhabitant of the place is reading the
newspaper to a friend; and among the names of the felons
who have been transported for life is that of Robert
Andrews !

The yellow leaves of October are hanging on the trees,
and it is a fine clear night. The church clock has struck
ten, and the moon is shining in the blue sky. A young
man, with a bundle in his hand, has arrived in breathless
haste, as though he were fearful of having trespassed on an

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182 RURAL PICKINGS.

appointed time. It seems to be some relief to find himself
alone; but he now begins to pace backwards and forwards as
one impatient of delay. Fretful ejaculations escape him, as
at every two or three turns he pauses a moment to listen.
A light footstep is heard, and a youthful female glides
hastily to the spot.

The young man is angry, and reproaches her; the whole
world, he says, is against him. He has quarrelled with his
parents, and, in wrath and bitterness, has quitted the dwell-
ing of his childhood, determined never again to return.
He has contrived to let Alice know that if ever she wishes
to see him again it must be at ten that night, beneath the
overshadowing boughs of the elm-trees of Taggard’s Tump.
Alice has stolen away from her father’s house with some
difficulty and many qualms of conscience, running all risks
to keep the appomtment -—and there they are together,

Excited, unreasonable, and implacable, he rails against
his father, and entreats Alice to accompany him in his
wanderings through the world. Again he paces to and fro,
smiting his forehead with his clenched fist, urging his dis-
tressed companion to share his mad-headed career, But
oh! how sweetly does she reply! For a time she opposes
not the wildfire of his anger, but by degrees she wins upon
him by her gentleness. She mildly sets before him his
madness and his folly, conjures him to bear with his parents
as they have borne with him, and asks him, if he cannot
forgive his earthly parent, how he can hope his heavenly
Father to forgive him? With such meekness, fidelity, affec-
tion, and piety does she address him, that, like a chastened
- child, he resolves to return to the habitation of his father.

Seven years have passed, it is a summer’s evening, and
two rosy-faced children are playing on the grass, while their
happy parents sit together on the seat beneath the trees.
LONELY PLACES IN THE COUNTRY. 138

** Alice,” says the father, ‘“‘do you remember that night? ”
“ Indeed I do,” she replied, looking upwards with a thankful
tear in either eye, while her grateful husband grasps her
affectionately by the hand.
The wind is high, the night is terribly dark, and two
men with hurried feet turn aside from the road; one stands
leaning against a tree, while the other seats himself on the
ground, and draws up the slides of a dark lantern to examine
the flint of his pistol. By the light of the lantern, one
dressed as a sailor, with a black beard, has a ferocious
aspect; the other wears the faded jacket of a soldier: and
both are armed with deadly bludgeons. Their faces are
flushed and their hearts are inflamed with drink. ‘“ Snug
quarters, Jack,” says the sailor, pulling off his cap and
drawing the sleeve of his jacket across his hot and reeking
brows. ‘Snug enough,” replied the other, ‘ but be handy
with that barker of yours. There’s no time to throw away.”
As he speaks, the clatter of a horse’s iron hoofs is heard
between the fitful blasts of the wind. ‘The slide of the
lantern in an instant is shut down, the sailor starts to his
feet, and hurries forward to the road with his companion.
The report of a pistol follows, a horse gallops by, riderless, —
and soon aftér the two men return to the shade of the trees.
‘They have wounded the horseman, and robbed him of a few
- coins ; but a quarrel takes place in the division of their spoil,
and they grapple hard together, grasping each other by the
throat. ‘The lantern is crushed beneath their feet, the coins
are lost, and the blaspheming ruffians empty-handed,
denouncing bitter imprecations against each other, take
different paths. Truly “the way of transgressors is hard.”
Come, I have given free liberty to my fancy; let me draw
one more imaginary scene; let me relate one more ideal
history, and I have done. The widow Allen once lived in a
134 - RURAL PICKINGS.

cottage near, which has long since been removed from the
place. The poor widow was what mankind called deformed,
but He who made all things knows best what form to give
them. Men think this outer tree deformed; but the birds
never thought so, for they have built their nests in it, and
sung in it their morning and evening songs ; the sun never
thought so, for he has shone upon it as favourably as upon
others ; and spring never thought so, for she has ever given
it a leaf as green as those of its companions.

The crooked and poverty-stricken widow had a son; but
the poor lad, frightened by his playmates at school, at the
age of nine years became an idiot. This was a heavy afflic-
tion, though not without some alleviation, for her son grew
up affectionate, tractable, inoffensive, and happy. To roam
about with younger children, and to do as they bade him do,
was his delight, but if ever he was scared, he ran off directly
to his mother. It was a strange sight to see a human being
run to so weak a thing for protection ; but, weak as she was,
to him she was a tower of strength.

The poor widow was pious, and though her son showed it
not as others do, yet what he had been taught in his earlier
days of holy things clung to his heart in his idiocy. When
his mother knelt im prayer he knelt beside her ; when she
went to the house of God he went also, and was as her
shadow. Her Bible, though he never read. it, was to him as
a holy thing. Twenty times a day, at least, did he repeat
the words, ‘‘ Above the stars !”

Often did the poor widow come here with her son ; but
‘once she came in great distress, for the few articles of furni-
ture she had were about to be taken from her for rent.
“Where is the friend that will help us?” said she, for a
moment giving way to her grief. Her son directly gave
utterance to his accustomed expression, ‘‘ Above the stars !””
LONELY PLACES IN THE COUNTRY. 185

The widow wept, but her tears were not tears of grief. Her
wavering faith had been revived by the words of her son.
She returned home; relief was at hand; she was not forgotten
by Him who watches over the widow and the fatherless.

Let such as have children weak in their intellects receive
patiently the mysterious visitation, looking upwards. Such
children are usually made happy by trifles which otherwise
would yield them little pleasure. They are strangers to
many solicitudes, and in their weakness they are under the
care of one who is mighty. If the widow's son afflicted his
mother by his helplessness, he comforted her by his affection.

The widow died—as all must die—and her weak-minded,
inoffensive son came to this place alone, looking about as
though he would find her. ‘Where is your mother?”
asked one of his playmates; his eye glanced upwards for a
moment, and then burst forth from his lips his wonted
words, ‘‘ Above the-stars !”

The sun is now getting westerly, and I must bid farewell
to Taggard’s Tump. Haply many a musing wanderer,
tempted by the pure breath of heaven to walk abroad, here
drinks in the glories of creation, till he feels as I have done
his heart to be filled with thankfulness, and his spirit to be
lifted up—‘ above the stars!”
LAE

CHAPTER XX.

a

SOMETHING ABOUT WOODS AND COPPICES.

Entrance of the coppice—The shade, the sylvan seclusion of the leafy
labyrinth and the wild wilderness of young trees.—Flowers.—Cottage
children.— Gathering nuts—Fall of the leaf—The wood.—The giant
trees.—Productiveness of the oak.—The adder.—The varied tones of
trees in the wind.—The storm.

THERE is peace in the green grassy field, daisied and

buttercupped—and something more in the knolly slope
where grow the cowslip and the dancing daffodil ; but they
are not like the tangled coppice. I am about to enter the
latter. With a prodigal hand has the High and Holy One
strewn our paths with pleasures! A thousand leafy bowers
invite me, rich in shade, in solitude, and in sylvan seclusion

—ornamented with the overhanging hazel, whose tortoise-

shell stems and redundant foliage are more than lovely.

These are temples where peace and quietude reside, and

where joy offers up to the Eternal, with a full heart, the

incense of praise.

Already am I lost in the leafy labyrinth—the delightful
intricacy of sprays and foliage, sunny openings, and shadowy
recesses. Shall I seat myself on the dry grass that has
covered this little mound? Shall I lie at length on the
green moss that has clothed the slope? Within my reach
SOMETHING ABOUT WOODS AND COPPICES. 137

is the wood-sorrel, sharp and pleasant to the taste; the
luscious and juicy blackberry, the wild strawberry, the
shining scarlet hips, and the ripe, brown-shelled clusters
that are gathered and cracked with equal delight. Could
fairy hands realize the creations of fancy, what could they
do more than is already done here !

What a wilderness of young trees, flaunting honeysuckles,
and sweet-scented briers! Here blooms the rose, there
hangs the woodbine, yonder breathes the violet. Angels on
their mission to beautify the earth with flowers have pro-
fusely decorated the coppice.

“ God might have bade the earth bring forth
Enough for great and small,
The oak-tree and the cedar-tree,
Without a flower at all.

Then wherefore, wherefore were they made,
All dyed in rainbow light,

All fashioned with supremest grace,
Up-springing day and night ?

Our outward life requires them not ;
Then wherefore had they birth ?
To minister delight to man ;
To beautify the earth ;

To comfort man ; to whisper hope,
Whene’er his faith is dim ;

For who thus careth for the flowers
Will much more care for him.”

My eye is admiring the beauty and my ear drinking in
the music of the coppice. This is freedom! This is a real
revel of the heart! This is indeed enjoyment! After all,
princes are poor; and the bare-headed, bare-legged, liberty-
138 RURAL PICKINGS.

loving peasant lad has a park that monarchs may sigh for
in vain.

Again have I reached the skixt of the coppice, where @
sweet cottage is seen in the distance ; and yonder is a group
of ragged cottage children, pulling down the brown-shelled
clusters of the hazel with their nut-hooks, half of them with
their faces besmeared with blackberries. Happy childhood !
A nut bough and a blackberry prier are to thee abundance
and delight.

The ground is here and there strewn with yellow and
crimson leaves, while some are borne by the breeze in the
alr.

“ How call ye this the seasons’ fall,

That seems the pageant of the year g
Richer and brighter far than all

The pomp that spring and summer wear.
Red falls the westering light of day

On rock and stream and winding shore ;
Soft woody banks and granite grey

With amber clouds are curtained o’er.
The wide, clear waters sleeping lie

Beneath the evening’s wings of gold ;
And, on their glassy breast, the sky

And banks their mingled hues unfold.
Far in the tangled woods, the ground

Is strewn with fallen leaves, that lie
Like crimson carpets all around,

Beneath a crimson canopy.”

I must now enter the wood. Oh, what can exceed the
cool, the balmy, the soft, the soothing influence of forest
scenery! The bulky stems and spreading branches of
ancient trees are goodly objects. The ivy climbs high
among them, the squirrel springs from bough to bough, and
the crow is cradled far up towards the skies. |
SOMETHING ABOUT WOODS AND COPPICES. 189

On the skirts of the wood are a few trees standing apart :
like lonely eremites, they seem to have left their com-
panions. Look at those pollard beeches of enormous size !
What mighty boles and branches! Huge and distorted as
they are, one cannot gaze upon them without being flung
back to distant days. Age, and influence, and solemnity are
theirs.

Might, majesty, and grandeur stern and rude,
And silence deep, and sylvan solitude.

Ay! now the wood thickens and bids defiance to the sun-
beam. Nature here revels in seclusion: the axe of the
woodman is unheard, and long has solitude inhabited the
place. When once a solitary old man, as he sat on the
stump of a tree, was asked who planted the wood ? “ Planted!”
he replied: ‘it never was planted: these trees are as old
as the world.”

What noble oaks! Were speech given to that stalwart
old forester yonder, gnarled and twisted as he is, what tales
might he not tell of by-gone tempests; of grey-headed gaffers
sheltering in the storm; gipsies bivouacking in the glade ;
and ruffian robbers hiding themselves in the leafy labyrinth
of the wood! Bravely has he stood against the storm. The
hero of a thousand battles, never yet has he been vanquished
when rocking, writhing, and struggling with the tempest.

‘‘ Few people are fully aware of the productiveness of the
oak, or of the extent to which the poor are sometimes bene-
fitted by it. The following remarks will throw some light
on this subject :—<‘I was driving three or four weeks ago, on
the road from Daventry to Badby, when I saw a boy, appa-
rently about sixteen years of age, with a sack under an oak-
tree. ‘Are you picking acorns, my lad?’ said I. ‘ Yes,
sir,’ said he. ‘ What do you get forthem?’ ‘A shillinga
140 RURAL PICKINGS.

bushel, sir.’ ‘ How long are you collecting a bushel?’ ‘Oh,
sir, I can pick up a bushel a day,, but not unless I am
allowed to go into Sir Charles Knightley’s woods, which all
the poor of Badby were allowed to do, till a few days ago.’
‘But if you can collect a bushel now, how much could you
collect earlier in the season?’ ‘Oh, about four bushels a
day.’ ‘Indeed!’ ‘Yes, sir, but that did not last long.’
‘How long? six weeks think you?’ ‘Yes, I should say
that it lasted as long as that, but not much longer.’ Here
our dialogue ended, and as I was going to Sir Charles
Knightley’s, I mentioned to him what had passed between
me and the Badby lad. Upon this Sir Charles took me to
his wood-yard, where he showed me seventeen-hundred and
forty-five bushels of acorns, lying on the floors of two barns,
which had been collected for him by the Badby poor. He
had paid seventy pounds for the collecting. . In addition to
what Sir Charles Knightley had thus bought for his deer, the
farmers in the neighbourhood had been extensive purchasers
of acorns to keep for their pigs.”

Now and then there is an opening in the wood where the
sun flings his rays on the trodden pathway with power ; and
sometimes here is seen the harmless snake, or the harmful
adder basking in the glare.

How proudly does this wood-clad height o’ertop
The rugged cliffs that skirt the river’s side !
How bright the winding waters, and how broad
The expanse of arid earth that meets the eye!
This is a glorious prospect, but my boy

Draw back thy venturous foot ; the faithless ridge
Is straight and perilous ; the slaty earth

That shivers down the steep incessantly

Has undermined the pathway. One false step,
We fall a hundred fathoms. Never yet

Did heaven blaze fiercer on the torrid ground.
SOMETHING ABOUT WOODS AND COPPICES. 141

The soaring lark would blink amid the sky,
The sun-adoring eagle could not brook

The insufferable beam. °Tis sultry hot ;
Subdued, the cattle seek the shade, and stand
In tame submission ; meekly tolerant.

What seest thou, that thy foot is turned aside
So promptly, and thine eager gaze, intent

With high-wrought admiration, earthward fix’d ?
I see it now! Tis very beautiful !

No marvel that it wins thy fond regard.

How joyously it basks beneath the beam :

How brightly tinged with ever-changing hues,

Its tiny net-work scales fling back the light!

Its eyes are glistering with a spark that mocks

The diamond’s blaze. Nay, touch it not my boy!
*Tis a young serpent of a poisonous kind,

Its fangs are sharp and venemous. Take this staff
And crush its crested head ; in killing him

We crop a deadly harvest ere it ripen,

A subtle dangerous race, and the tired traveller
While slumbering in the shade may dream his thanks.

There! Now ’tis harmless, for the writhing body
Ceases to play its gambols in the glare,
Tremulous alone with faint expiring life,

Now let us moralize, for Nature’s book,

Like others, may be read for good or ill.

This passage should not teach thee cruelty,

But when a new, and yet unpractised sin,

Crosses thy path, all gay and beautiful,

As lately this scaled adder, pause not, strike !
Slay it in all its immature deceit,

Lest, haply, as this venom’d cockatrice

Would soon have done, it prove a scaled fiend,
And, wreathing round thee in thy careless moments,
Dart deep its poisonous fangs into thy soul,

And sting thee into everlasting death.
142 RURAL PICKINGS.

Martingale, in his “ English Country Life,” though
somewhat fanciful, is very striking in his remarks on trees.
“ Every tree has its particular tone, which evinces its pecu-
liar character, elicited as both are by the midnight winds.
Through a dark mass of Scotch firs, a deep roar prevails, like
to the eternal surge of the mighty ocean. The light flutter
of the aspen, trembling with ‘fear and with the agitation of
perturbation, forms a striking contrast to the deep cathedral
diapason of the solemn yew unmoved amid all scenes.
The oak is firm and manly in its voice, and hurls the tone
of defiance against all its enemies in the tempestuous strug-
gle. The linden and the hornbeam are shy and timid,
. uttering a more softened murmur. The elm is a note or
two higher; and the ash, firmly clasped by the pertinacious
ivy, is higher still. The graceful larch breathes around a
tone, somewhat higher than the diapason of the fir; while
the willow, with her drooping tresses, utters a mournful sob.”

Impressive, too, is the sketch of Old Humphrey. “I
gaze on the oak with pleasure when it flourishes in its prime,
and I regard it with a yet deeper interest, when it has been
rifted by the bolt of heaven. There it stands, like a para-
lytic giant, smitten for waging war with heaven, howling
out, as it were, the words, ‘ who hath resisted the arm of
the Holy One ?—who hath hardened himself against him
and hath prospered?’ There is fearfulness in its ruin,
majesty in its very helplessness, and sublimity in the mag-
nitude of its desolation.” And again, “ As I gaze on the
massy trunks around me, I think of cathedral piles, of
- Gothic arches, and goodly arcades; my fancy is busy with
the scene, and brings before me a mixed confusion of sun-
shine, acorns, dried leaves, and golden fern ; of timid hares
and antlered stags, dappled deer, and fawns and foxes ; of
polecats, bats, and bristled hedgehogs ; of tree-climbing
SOMETHING ABOUT WOODS AND COPPICEs. 1438

squirrels with spreading tails. I hear the cooing of the
wood-pigeon, the wild cry of the screech owl, the mellow pipe
of the blackbird, and the hum of the busy bees. Now the
sun is piercing with his mid-day beams the interstices of the
wood, and now the silvery rays of the midnight moon are
coldly glittering through the ebon branches. Imaginary
scenes flit rapidly before me. The report of the sportsman’s
gun comes sharp upon the ear, the wounded pheasant flies
heavily across the glade; and hark! the beagles are abroad,
and the forest resounds with the wild cry of the hunters,
and the murderous music of the clamorous dogs.”

But hark! the storm-king is abroad, and the war-cry is
heard in the woods. First comes the whistling winds, next
the sweeping blast, and then the bellowing tempest, against
which the chieftains of the forest howl their proudest defi-
ance. ‘The wild commotion spreads, and the tall elms and
the gnarled oaks are up in arms grappling with the storm.
The big black clouds launch their lightnings, and pour out
their descending floods, while the gathered thunder breaks
forth with aggravated roar. Flash follows flash, and peal
after peal in quick succession adds to the deafening discord.
The boisterous winds break into the dark recesses of the
woods, that hoarsely echo back their boasting cries. The
hooting owl is scared in her ivy bower. The onslaught has
begun, the artillery of the skies is playing on the devoted
wood, the crackling of the branches and the crashing of the
broken trunks mingle with the wild raving of the storm.
There is an ash twisted round as though it were but an
osier ; there falls a bulky elm, crushing in its descent the
smaller trees; and yonder, with upturned roots, a giant oak
is prostrated on the ground, and the tall pines on the ridgy
eminence are rifted as the dry reeds by the sedgy brook ;
clamour, uproar, and destruction, are winning their way.
144 RURAL PICKINGS.

Darker grow the frowning heavens, louder raves the infu-
riated blast, and fiercer flames are flashing athwart the
skies. Fell has been the fight, but the sturdy champions of
the woods are victorious. They maintain their ground, the
tempest is retiring, and the discomfited storm-king is
drawing away his baffled legions o’er the distant hills.
D>

CHAPTER XXI.

—@o——
COUNTRY SPORTS AND EMPLOYMENTS.

By appropriating the gifts of creation we increase their value.—Pastimes of
the common people influenced by the amusements of their superiors,—
Jousts, tourneys, and running at the quintain.— Wrestling. —Quoits.—
Skittles.—Cricket.—Fishing.— Archery.—Sporting terms.— Boating.—
Skating.—Sketching.— Botanising —Gardening.— Walking.

WHEN we regard trees, foliage, and vegetation, from the

cedar to the hyssop on the wall, and all other objects
of the natural creation, as the express handiwork of God, for
our pleasure and profit, it not only increases the value
of the things around us, but also binds us with links of love
to our Great Creator. All things were made by him.

The sun in his glory, careering on high ;

The moon, as she tranquilly glides through the sky ;
The storm and the whirlwind, his creatures are they,
And the proud waves of ocean his whispers obey.

By appropriating to ourselves the general gifts of nature,
we think more highly of the gifts and of the giver.

For me the kindling sunbeams brightly shine !
The breezes blow for me, and they are mine !

It has been said, with much truth, that the sports and
pastimes of the common people of England have always
been influenced by the amusements of their superiors ; and
as the amusements of the latter have altered, so have the

L
146 RURAL PICKINGS.

sports and pastimes of the former changed ; we have now no
jousts and tourneys among the higher orders, and no running
at the quintain among the lower people.

One by one the processions, mysteries, pageants, mimings,
masks and frolics of the great, and the sports they created
in lower life have subsided. The more brutal games of
single-stick, cudgel-playing, bull-baiting, badger-baiting,
cock-fighting, dog-fighting, and throwing at cocks on Shrove-
Tuesday are almost extinct, and hurling, foot-ball, bandy,
club-ball, and trap-ball are but little practised. There is
still wrestling in Cornwall and Devon; I myself have seen
the fine athletic figures of the Canns, and the gigantic pro-
portions of Jordan and Polkinhorne, writhing and grappling
in strenuous contention. In most counties there is yet a
little quoit-playing, with skittles and cricket. In order to
do away with the objectionable noise of the pins and bowl
in skittles, they are now to be had made with a thick
covering of caoutchouc. The additional expense incurred
is the only inconvenience.

Fishing is the recreation of all classes. I am no fisher-
man, but yet can I drink into the quiet joy and deep delight
of the lover of the angle, seated on a summer's day by the
Coquet, or some other Northumberland stream; or it may
be by the banks of the Derbyshire Dove, the Herefordshire
Wye, the Trent, the Tweed, or the Yarrow. He may be
surrounded with romantic scenes of sweet repose, or
seeking the Teith and the Leven, he may breathe the
green heather of Scottish moors, and gaze on the glory of
Scottish hills.

I can fancy such a one an enthusiast of the brook, stand-
ing on a jutting rock beneath a tree, or seated on a velvet
bank up to his ankles in cool grass and fragrant flowers,
following his absorbing pursuit, lightly dropping his artificial
COUNTRY SPORTS AND EMPLOYMENTS. . 147

fiy upon the water, or laying in his larger baits, now hook-
ing the spotted trout, and now drawing from his retreat
beneath the roots of the overhanging alder, the gray-
ling, or the pike.

There he sits by the hour in the shadowy seclusions of
the flowing river, or the running brook, indulging his quiet
thoughts, breathing the odorous gale, gazing on the sailing
clouds, and comparing the turbulence of a city life, with all
its idle pomp and useless riches, to the peace and quietude
of rural scenes. While listening to the lark, the throstle,
the nightingale, and other wild warblers of the woods, well
may he say with old Izaak Walton, the angler of anglers :
“Lord, what music hast Thou provided for the saints in
heaven, when Thou affordest bad men such music on earth.”
But even fishermen, as well as others, complain of the times.
“Talk o’ fishin,” says the Northumberlandshire fisherman,
“there's no sic fishin in Coquet now, as when I was a lad.
{t was nowse then but to fling in and pull them out, by
twee-es and three-es, if ye had sae mony heuks on; but now,
a body may keep threshin’ at the water a’ day atween Haly-
stane and Weldon, and hardly catch three dizen, and mony
a time not that. About fifty years syne I mind o’ seein
trouts that thick i’ the thrum, below Rothbury, that if ye had
strucken the end o’ your gad into the water among them, it
wad amaist hae studden upreet.”

Though the amusement of fishing can hardly be said,
under any circumstances, to be carried on without cruelty,
yet do I really believe that many of the amiable of the
earth are fishermen.

To point out the-exact lawful limits of inclination in sports
would be perhaps impossible ; but if on the one hand it be
an error to indulge in severity towards those who delight in
the gun and the angle, it is unquestionably a greater error

L2
148 RURAL PICKINGS.

to recklessly pursue amusements unmindful of humanity.
The cruel battues that occasionally take place, put a black
mark on the brows of those who engage in them.

The amusement of fishing has many attractions to the
lover of quietude and rural scenes; but I am not about
either to justify or condemn fishing, my object being merely
to present an illustration of the fact, that we sometimes lay
claim to more credit for humanity than we deserve.

On taking my seat in a railroad carriage I was almost
immediately joined by a gentlemanly man of agreeable
~ manners and conversational powers. He spoke fluently of
the scenery and customs of the different countries he had
visited, and then dilated much in praise of many parts of
England and Scotland. It was clear that he was a lover of
the moor and the mountain, the thick wood and the running
river. At last he had evidently hit on his favourite topic.

By his sparkling eye and the enthusiasm with which he
spoke on the subject of fishing, he was evidently a brother
_ of the angle of some standing, and, I doubt not, an adept
at what is sometimes called the “ gentle craft.” Quite at
home with hiccory rods, winches with spring handles, hair,
silk and Indian-rubber lines, pike flies, spinning tackle,
gaff hooks, gimp of all sizes, baits, fish bags disgorging
needles, swivels and shot boxes, he added much to my
information on such matters. Never had I before heard
a more eloquent discourse on fishing.

My companion freely admitted that hooking the worm
was more than he had nerve to accomplish. This cruel,
though necessary operation, he said he had invariably per-
formed for him by a servant; of course on this account he
took some credit for humanity.

In the course of his remarks he described with much
animation his success in hooking and capturing the largest
COUNTRY SPORTS AND EMPLOYMENTS. 149

pike that had been caught the last season: it was in a
Scottish river that this feat had been performed. There was
something very striking in his vivid narration, especially in
his account of the adroit way in which he succeeded in
getting to land a fish of so extraordinary a size.

“T took advantage of his distress,” said he, in one part
of his description ; “I allowed him no respite,” he said, in
another; and ‘‘I drove him to extremity,” added he, ina
third; at which moment I looked at him, and exclaimed,

“What a Turk! though, perhaps, I am ws a Turk by
my exclamation.”

On being requested by him to explain the cause of my
exclimantioin, I told him that it appeared to me a very
natural one, when I heard a fisherman who had too much
humanity to hook a worm declare, that he had hooked a
huge fish in his watery haunts, taken advantage of his dis-
tress,—allowed him no respite, and mercilessly driven him to
extremity.

He admitted that my ejaculation was warranted; that I
had caught him with his own line, and fairly trammelled
him in the meshes of his own net. He bore my observa-
tions with all the meekness of a second Izaak Walton, and
we parted, after a pleasant ride and a discussion by no
means disagreeable, with mutual regret.

It may at first appear singular that the same person who
could not hook a worm, should without remorse or difficulty
hook a large fish ; but a little consideration will convince us
that most humane people, in many things, act quite as incon-
sistently, eating of turtles that have performed a painful
voyage nailed in agony to the deck of a ship, banquetting on
turkeys which have shed their blood drop by drop only, and
revelling‘on cripped salmon, roasted oysters, or eels fried
alive. It will be well if we can avoid both inhumanity and
inconsistency ; but certain it is that we are much more
150 RURAL PICKINGS.

expert in discerning these errors in others, than in discover-
ing them in ourselves.

Here and there are places in the country where archery
is feebly kept up. Mrs. Loudon, in her ‘ Lady’s Country
Companion,” has given on this subject, as well as on hunt-
ing, some very useful explanations, of which, as well as my
memory enables me, I mean to take advantage. The ground
where archery is practised is called the Butt ground, and
the framework set up to shoot at, the target, or butt. The
~ gilt spot in the middle of the rings on the target is the
bull’s eye.

Much as the English yew bow has been spoken of,
foreign yew is a better and more elastic wood for a bow,
than the yew of this country. Little yew, however, either
British or foreign, is now used in archery. Bows now in
use are of two kinds—the self bow, made of one kind of
wood; and the backed bow, formed of fustick, partridge,
lance, or some other ornamental wood, with a back carefully
joined to it, of ash or elm. Italian hemp, dressed with —
Indian glue or gum, forms the most serviceable bowstrings.

The strength of a bow is called its weight. The common
standard weight of a man’s bow—that is the weight which,
if suspended to the string of the bow when strung, will draw
it the length of an arrow from the bow, is fifty pounds, but
many bows are much stronger.

The arrows consist of three parts, the head or pile, the
shaft or stele, and the feather. The wood most in repute for
arrows is the ash, and after this come the birch, the horn-
beam, the aspen, and the lime. The arrow case, sometimes
carried on the back, is a quiver, and twenty-four arrows are
called a sheaf.

The strong piece of polished leather buckled round the
bow arm of an archer, to protect it from the action of the
string, is called the bracer. The finger-stalls of strong and
COUNTRY SPORTS AND EMPLOYMENTS. 151

flexible leather worn by the archer over his gloves, and
fastened round his wrist, is called a shooting glove. The
band buckled round the waist, with an arrow pouch on the
right side,.is the belt, and the dangling ornament, on the
left side, with which the heads of the soiled arrows are
wiped, is the ¢assel.

An archery ground with well-equipped archers of both
sexes in their imposing attire exhibits a striking and agree-
able scene. Such a scene have I now in my fancy, and my
hospitable host is the leader of the woodland revel.

Here he comes, like a yeoman of old from the wood,

As gallant in bearing as bold Robin Hood,

And gathers his archers around him; they stand
Equipped for the target, with tassel and band;

And lovely ones moving among them are seen,

Dianas in stature, in arms, and in mien ;

More fair than their plumes with the zephyr that rise,
And their arrows less keen than the glance of their eyes.

There are but few people in the country who are not fond
of hunting, coursing, and shooting ; and to know where the
birds lie, the hare squats, and the fox is likely to be found,
is valuable information. The wood or coppice where Reynard
usually resides is called a cover, and trying with dogs to
start him from his retreat is drawing the cover. If the fox
has started, they say he is unkennelled. The scent left by
the fox, which enables the dogs to follow him when he is
far out of sight, is called the drag. When a sportsman
speaks of a fox, he calls his feet the pad and his tail the
brush.

When a hare is found, she is said to be started from her
form; and if she turns back again it is said she doubles.
The tail of a hare is called the scut, and that of hunting
dogs, the stern. .

The dogs used in fox-hunting are harriers, and those that
152 RURAL PICKINGS.

hunt hares are beagles, a lesser kind of harrier. Greyhounds
are used in coursing. In the language of sportsmen, when
harriers are spoken of, two dogs are called a couple, and three,
a couple and a half; but when greyhounds are the subject
of discourse, two are called a brace, and three, a leash. The
beagles used in hare hunting, taken together, are usually
called a pack, while the harriers that follow the fox are
frequently called a kennel. |

A day’s hunting is called a day’s sport, and a long chase
:s a hard run. The cry given by the dogs when they Jind
or scent their game is giving tongue ; and when the whole
pack join in it, and go off, they are said to be in full cry.
If the dogs go off very fast at the beginning of the chase, it
is a sharp burst; and when the scent is lost it is a check, or
the dogs are said to be at fault. '

Among the quieter recreations of the country are boating,
skating, botanising, gardening, and walking, each of which
is productive of great enjoyment. But pleasure, either in
country or city, cannot be lasting without being mingled
with duty. He who lives for himself alone, is altogether
unworthy of his enjoyments. So long as there is ignorance
to be instructed, inexperience to be guided, misfortune to be
commiserated, merit to be rewarded, and distress to be
relieved, so long ought the active duties of life to be dili-
gently performed, and its charities to be cheerfully adminis-
tered. .There is enough in every rural district of England to
call forth the tender sympathies and employ the best
energies of kindness, patriotism, and Christian philanthropy.
«Blessed is he that considereth the poor: the Lord will
deliver him in time of trouble.”
pe te

CHAPTER XXII.

—_@e—_-

CHARACTERS TO BE MET WITH IN THE COUNTRY.

Travellers—Men of science.—Painters.—Literary characters.— Military
and naval officers.—Influence of a visit at a hospitable farm house.—
The Major and the hawk.—The exciseman, clerk, lawyer, doctor and
village pastor.

ARDLY can I remember having been in the country
without meeting with characters of a striking kind.

Some traveller of celebrity, or some scientific professor, has

visited the place; some painter of eminence, some lion of

literature, has happened to be roaming abroad ; or some dis-
tinguished officer, in the army or navy, has been rusticating
in the neighbourhood. Again and again have I been
located with captains, majors, and colonels, and once for
some weeks, if not for months, a general companionised
with me in roaming the fields and in wandering the woods.

This sprinkling of striking characters in rural life has a
spiriting influence ; for men, whose talents or qualities have
rendered them conspicuous in general society, appear to
great advantage in the country, where they stand out in bold
relief, without the rivalship of any that approach them in
the scale of their endowments and attainments.

Man is essentially a social being, and to whatever grade of
society he may belong, he cannot enjoy the country without
~ some kind of familiarity with those around him. To this
154 RURAL PICKINGS.

circumstance must be attributed the fact that many who are
high-minded and forbidding in the city, become very agree-
able and attractive in the country. This remark will equally
apply to the ladies, as well as to the lords of creation. A
residence of a few months at a hospitable farm-house is
wondrously influential in stripping us of self-estimation, and
in calling forth our more amiable qualities.

On a visit, last summer, at an hospitable old homestead,
I fell in with a Major of the East India service, a gentle-
manly and agreeable companion, who was also a visitor at
the same dear old mansion. On our first interview, habited
as he was in his shooting dress, I took him to be one of the
resident gentry of the neighbourhood, but the British officer
was not long hid by the habiliments of the sportsman. His
cheerful sallies and interesting anecdotes enlivened our
circle, and added a charm to our evening gatherings.

On farther acquaintance, I had reason to congratulate
myself in a great addition to my country enjoyments, for the
major was as frank and free in his communications, as he
was well informed on general topics, and practical in his
remarks. Had he been from the north, I should have called
him an iceberg of knowledge and an avalanche of informa-
tion ; but being from the east, I jocosely designated him the
prince of palanquins, the rajah of ghauts and jungles, a
tide of romantic adventures, and a very torrent of tiger
hunting. | |

From the general conversation that passed between us,
I gathered a few points of his career. When a boy, the
narration of his friends around him, who had been abroad,
of Indian battles and adventures, mingled with elephants,
sepoys, pagodas, and rupees, together with the model of a
ship, carved ivory balls, chintz curtains, and Chinese and
East Indian curiosities, belonging to his father, so wrought
CHARACTERS TO BE MET WITH IN THE countTRY. 155

upon his youthful mind, that abroad he was determined to
go. On two points he was resolved; the one to be a soldier,
the other to get a fortune.

Though his boyish project was opposed by his parents, it
was not abandoned. An opportunity of obtaining a cadet-
ship occurred, which at once overwhelmed his mother, and
called forth remonstrances and reproaches on the part of
his father, not, perhaps, unmingled with some degree of
satisfaction. The letter that summoned him to London
was received with joy, and he soon embarked in the Duke
of Richmond merchant-ship for India. This was an impor-
tant era in his life ; he remained in India thirty years, was
actively engaged in the Burmese war, and rose to the rank
of major.

Among other departments of knowledge, the major had
an extended acquaintance with natural history. He seemed
to take a strong interest in all living creatures, especially in
birds, of which he possessed an excellent collection, both
English and Indian. To add a few specimens that he
did not possess to this collection was an object of some
importance.

Rarely do we associate with one ardent in any pursuit,
and eloquent in its praise, without feeling some interest
excited within us. The ardour of the major in his admira-
tion of the feathered race was very influential, and I listened
to his glowing descriptions with increasing pleasure.

The major was a keen sportsman, and his dogs and his
gun were in daily requisition. One evening, when the dusk
prevailed, returning with a companion from his favourite
pursuit, in passing through a turnip-field, a bird rose, and
was instantly hit by a shot from farmer Bradstock. The
major, who saw that the game was a noble hawk, called
out to the farmer, vehemently, not to disturb a single
156 RURAL PICKINGS.

feather of the fallen bird. To his great delight it proved
to be a hawk of an unusual size, and of a kind that he was
particularly solicitous to obtain. Never was man more over
joyed. The naturalist burst forth with enthusiasm.

“TJ shall go wild,” exclaimed he, as he proudly displayed
to me his prize, for farmer Bradstock had willingly placed
it at his disposal. “I shall go wild with joy,” cried the
major, as he drew my attention to the beauty of the noble
bird, and the amazing spread of his wing and tail. It was
the subject of animated conversation for the evening, and
had a lac of rupees come suddenly into the possession of the
major, hardly could he have manifested more enthusiasm
and delight. On the morrow, a man-servant was despatched
to a neighbouring town for a supply of poison, that the bird
might be skinned, and its fine plumage put in a state of
preservation, till it could be stuffed with care, and added to
the major’s collection.

Not soon shall I forget this little adventure ; for it was my
occupation, standing in the bay-window of the old hall, to
hold the bird suspended by a strong string and large hook,
while the major, secundum artem, went through the nice
operation of stripping off and poisoning its skin, with as
much care and precision as an anatomist manifests in the
dissection of his subject. 'The undertaking was beautifully
achieved, amid a burst of enthusiastic remarks, which inte-
rested me much, and greatly added to my slender stock of
ornithological information.

In a village there is often an exciseman, who, from hav-
ing resided in different places, has picked up much informa-
tion. The village clerk, too, is frequently a character ;
while the lawyer and the doctor are personages in much
repute; but the most important, and the most influential
character in a country village is, unquestionably, the clergy-
CHARACTERS TO BE MET WITH IN THE COUNTRY. 157

man, and in many cases his wife follows next in estimation
and usefulness. On the conduct of these two personages
much of the peace, good-will, and kindness, existing in a
village, depends.

Many are of opinion that country clergymen often err
grievously in not availing themselves of their advantages.
It is in vain, say they, that a minister attempts to excuse
- himself from those courtesies and kindnesses which seldom
fail to affect the roughest and the rudest. The sculptor
forms the best figure he can from his block of marble, and
casts it not aside because of its veins and cracks ; how much
less, then, should he who ministers in holy things, neglect
those under his care, because of their imperfections ! Why,
it is to correct these imperfections that he resides among
them: Are country people coarse, uninformed, and careless
of religion ;—then is it his duty, as it should be esteemed his
privilege, to soften them, to enlighten them, and to lead
them in the way to heaven. If he be deficient in Christian
graces, how can he expect his people to practise them ?—If
he lack that kindness, patience, forbearance, and perseve-
rance in well-doing, which he expects them to exercise, is it
likely that they will either love or honour him, or become
wiser or better by his ministry? Farmers and country
people may not understand the grades and shades of reli-
gious doctrine, but they do understand when they are under-
valued, and when they are treated as men. One act, nay,
one word, of good-will and personal kindness, will win their
hearts more than a dozen sermons of reproof, and it is only
when the Christianity of the pulpit is embodied in the pri-
vate life of the minister, that it is likely to be extensively
influential.

A highly respectable farmer, much attached to the clergy,
158 RURAL PICKINGS.

lamented to me that the ministers around him stood so high
in their own estimation, and so low in that of the farmers of
the neighbourhood. As a wealthy farmer he had nothing
personally to complain of, but, on account of his neighbours,
he much deplored the absence of that common civility and
attention on the part of the clergy, which he felt sure would
be attended with the happiest consequences.

Perhaps there is a mutual error committed. The minister
may be too high in his bearing, and too keen after his own
interest, while the farmer may be too apt to take advantage
of the occasional familiarity of his minister. Certain it is
that in many cases there is less love between them than
there ought to be; the minister regarding his people more
in the light of ignorant tithe-payers, than in any other point
of view, while they regard him as one who runs away with
the profits of their labour, and who had rather at all times,
except at church and on tithe-day, “have their room than
their company.” The farmer touches his hat to his minister,
who hardly condescends to acknowledge the salutation, and
then talks to the first person he meets of “ the upstart pride
of the parson.” This is much to be regretted.

There is another cause of ill-will that sometimes extends
itself in rural districts, and that is not merely the evident cold-
ness, but the visible dislike, that exists between the clergy-
man and the dissenting minister. In some cases this dislike
is carried to great excess. More than once have I crossed a
river on the Sabbath in the same boat with the pastor of
the church I was about to attend, and a dissenting minister ;
and though I conversed with both, not one word have they
exchanged with each other.

The ‘Village Pastor” of Goldsmith may, or may not
have been sketched from the life; but the poetic description
CHARACTERS TO BE MET WITH IN THE COUNTRY. 159

is too loveable, not to live with the English language. A
thousand times has this description been quoted, yet here,
once more, shall the latter part of it appear :—

“ At church, with meek and unaffeeted grace,
His looks adorn’d the venerable place ;
Truth from his lips prevail’d with double sway,
And fools, who came to scoff, remain’d to pray.
The service past, around the pious man,
With ready zeal each honest rustic ran ;
Even children follow’d with endearing wile,
And pluck’d his gown, to share the good man’s smile ;
His ready smile a parent’s warmth express’d,
Their welfare pleas’d him, and their cares distress’d ;
To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given,
But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven—
As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form,
Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,
Tho’ round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,
Eternal sunshine settles on its head.”


CHAPTER XXIII.

—-- or"

COUNTRY PICKINGS KNOWN TO EVERYBODY.

All seasons of the year grateful to a lover of nature.—Influence of sylvan *
scenery. — Nature ‘3 ever beautiful—The stone quarry. —The glow-
worm.—Cattle among the buttercups.— The way-side spring. — Lambs
at play.—The rookery.—Coppices.— The gnarled old oak.— The secluded
Jane.—Moss-covered walls.— Violet banks.—Old ruins.

HERE is no day of the year, nor hour of the day, im
which the country, in the eye of a lover of nature, is
not interesting to gaze on; yet are there seasons and moods
of mind, when the heart yearns with more than common
ardour for moors and mountains, green fields and woods
and waters, and then, sweet it is, indeed, to give up our
whole being to the peaceful and joyous influence of rural
scenery. What is there +n wealth and splendour ? What
in the pomps and vanities of the world, with all their
feverish excitements, that yields us half so much pleasur-
able tranquillity and deep delight as the calmness, the ever-
varying beauty, and the gathered glories of sylvan solitudes ?
In quiet scenes how the delicious stillness sinks into our
souls !—and when the warbling of the grove bursts upon us,
or the wind rises, or the rejoicing sun lights up the East,
or the West, with a flood of effulgency, what delight ani-
mates the eye, and what thankfulness comes gushing up
into the heart! O nature, I love thee dearly !
Whether I view thee in the lonely glen ;
Where vales recline, or prouder mountains rise ;

What time the moon is gliding soft, or when
Thy glorious sun, careering through the skies,
COUNTRY PICKINGS KNOWN TO EVERYBODY. 161

Throws round creation, his resplendent dyes ;
Or where wild ocean’s endless wonders be ;
Still art thou beautiful to my ’rapt eyes :—
Thy mighty Maker in thy face I see,
And in my secret spirit bend and honour thee.

Though no rural spot could be found the exact counter-
part of another, yet are there many scenes so like in their
general features, that they instantly bring before us other
scenes of a similar character. This general resemblance
is rarely observable in a whole landscape, it being, almost
always, limited to an individual part. We have never seen
two prospects agreeing in all things, but we have seen hun-
dreds of trees, rocks, and ponds bearing a strong likeness
to what we have seen before.

Every one has seen in the middle of a sloping meadow
a dry stone quarry with a jutting sandstone rock overhang-
ing it, surmounted with an oak tree and brushwood, and
prickly shrubs of various kinds, the sides of the quarry
being richly hung with creepers and pendant plants—the
whole forming a cool delightful shelter in the blaze of day,
and a sweet and alluring solitude at eventide. There the
throstle warbles, and the blackbird pours his melodious
music,—and there the lover of nature muses, and moralizes
and marvels at the beauty of the place.

Every one has seen, at night, a glow-worm on the mossy
bank below the wood, shining like some distant taper in a
cottage window, while the grey mist has partly hidden the
objects around. I love to gaze on the tiny flame deep in
the moss of the green grass.

“ There is an unobtrusive blaze
Content in lowly shades to shine ;
How much I wish, while yet I gaze,
To make thy modest merit mine !”
M
162 RURAL PICKINGS.

Every one has seen cattle in the meadow amongst butter-
cups, clearing away the fresh grass, sweeping it into their
mouths with their tongues ; lying down in the hilly pasture,
chewing their cud ; standing up to their knees in the brook,
slaking their thirst, and in the wantonness of profusion,
letting the water run: down in. silvery streams from their
mouths; we have watched them too, struggling up the
steep. acclivity from the river brink, one after another,
showing with magic suddenness their beautiful forms, their
dappled bodies and their snow-white bosoms ; and waiting
in the fold-yard till blithesome Betty made her appearance
with her pail.

Every one has seen by the way-side, a spring scooped out
of the sandstone rock, overshadowed with spreading haw-
thorn, hung round with lichens and creepers of green and
crimson, and adorned with slender hare-bell and other
flowers. The moment you approach the spot, @ frog who
seems almost to sit there for the purpose, leaps plump into
the water, and gracefully st iking out with his long yellow
legs, finds his way to the bottom. Could the fountain speak
it might say,—

“ Gentle reader! see in me
An emblem of true charity ;
For while my bounty I bestow
Unheard, unseen, I ever flow,
And I have fresh supplies from heaven,
For every cup of water given.”

Every one has seen lambs at play in the hilly field ; noris
a simpler, a more joyous, or @ more heart-affecting rural
sight to be gazed on.

« A few begin a short, but vigorous race,
And indolence abashed soon flies the place ;
Thus challenged forth, see thither, one by one,
From every side assembling playmates run ;
COUNTRY PICKINGS KNOWN TO) EVERYBODY. 1638

A thousand wily antics mark their stay,

A starting crowd, impatient of delay.

Like the fond dove from fearful prison freed,
Each seems to say, ‘ Come, let us try our speed !’
Away they scour, impetuous, ardent, strong,
The green turf trembling as they bound along ;
Adown the slope, then up the hillock climb,
Where every mole-hill is a bed of thyme ;
There panting stop ; yet scarcely can refrain ;
A bird, a leaf, will set them off again :

Or, if a gale with strength unusual blow,
Scattering the wild-briar roses into snow,
Their little limbs increasing efforts try,

Like the torn flower the fair assemblage fly.”

We have all seen a grove of tall elms, with a colony of rooks
settled in their tops. The wind has been blowing, the trees
have been rocking, the boughs have been bending, the young
rooks have been cawing, and the old ones have been feeding
them with worms and grubs obtained from the neighbouring
ploughed fields.

We have all seen coppices full of secluded nooks, of shady
bowers and pleasant pathways, s0 abounding in straggling
blackberries and clustering hazel-nuts, that we could have
built ourselves a hut there, and dwelt as happy hermits,
wandering and musing, and listening to the throstle’s song.

«“ There primrose groups are yearly seen
Peeping beneath their curtain green,
With aromatic mint beside,

And violets in purple pride.

In gay festoons, o’er hazles thrown,
Hang many a woodbine’s floral crown ;
The briar-rose, too, that woos the bee,
And thyme, that sighs its odours free ;

M 2
164 RURAL PICKINGS.

The lark, the blackbird, and the thrush,
Hymn happiness from every bush ;

In friendly harmony they strive,

And make me glad to be alive.”

We have all seen a stunted gnarled old oak growing
on the top of a high stony bank, with enormous roots
clinging round the huge stones, writhing themselves out
of the ground, and hanging bare down the bank ; the deep
green of the redundant foliage, the dark-brown colour of the
twisted roots, and the shattered stony bank, altogether
forming an impressive picture.

We have all seen winding and secluded lanes, where fun-
gusses of surprising beauty grew, shooting upwards their
clear white stems, six or eight inches high, their snowy tops
having an elegant, feathery, double fringe of a lilac colour
hanging from them. We have all bent over those beautiful
fungusses, drinking in their beauty.

We have all seen old walls covered over with moss of
different kinds, so intensely beautiful, that there was no
getting by them without indulging in a pause. Whether
we regarded a single tuft of moss by itself, or took in the
effect of the velvet-like verdurous whole, in either case it
carried us away with delight. Velvet-like is but a poor
expression ; velvet was never half so beautiful !

We have all seen banks in shady lanes, so bestrown with
violets, and sunny hills so adorned with primroses, that we
have revelled on them both. To say that they were

Lovely banks of verdant green,
Where creeping thing was never seen,

would be indulging in poetry at the expense of truth ; but
we may say, without misrepresentation, that they were so
COUNTRY PICKINGS KNOWN TO EVERYBODY. 165

extravagantly beautiful, that they compelled us to utter an
ejaculation of delight.

We have all seen old ruins whose grey, mouldering
stones were so adorned with wall-flowers that they made us
think of the hanging gardens of oriental countries. ‘The
ruins were enough to make the mind of the spectator
pensive, but the glowing, golden wall-flowers lighted up the
spirit with sunshine and pleasant thoughts.

“ Flower of the solitary place !
Grey ruin’s golden crown !
That lendest melancholy grace
To haunts of old renown :

Thou mantlest o’er the battlement,
By strife or storm decayed ;
And fillest up each envious rent

Time’s canker-tooth hath made.

Sweet wallflower, sweet wallflower !
Thou conjurest up to me

Full many a soft and sunny hour
Of boyhood’s thoughtless glee,

When joy from out the daisies grew,
In woodland pastures green,

And summer skies were far more blue
Than since they e’er have been.”
ES

CHAPTER XXIV.

——-e——_

THE CAPLER WOOD ROBBERS.

A cheerless autumnal night—The alarm.—The gang of gipsies. —The
supposed murderers.—The ruffian at the house of Molly Prosser.—Pre-
paration to pursue the gang.—Bradeley Coppice and the fields, —Capler
Wood.—The shrill whistle—The gipsy robbers found.—The dark shed
and the furious bull-dog.—The summons.—The dark shed entered.—
The capture.

THERE are in rural life but few adventures compared

with those which take place in cities and towns, but on
this very account, when they do occur, the interest excited
by them is the greater. The following adventure, which
took place years ago, when I was paying a visit at Fawley

Court, Herefordshire, is not likely to be forgotten by any of

the parties engaged therein. Read in the glare of day, it

will fail to create the sensations it called forth when acted
in the gloom of night; yet even with this disadvantage it
will hardly fail to interest the reader.

It was on one of those cold and cheerless autumnal even-
ings, when the inside of a farm-house becomes more than
usually comfortable, and when the flaring faggot and the
fireside have especial attractions, that tidings arrived at
Fawley Court of a daring gang of gipsies, who, after de-
manding cider and committing excesses among the cottages,
had, it was supposed, pitched their camp in the neighbour-
hood for the night. Rumour, among other things, said that
a robbery, if nothing worse, would certainly have been com-
THE CAPLER WOOD ROBBERS. 167

mitted at old Molly Prosser’s, had it not been for the timely
arrival of Harry Burton, a labouring man, who grappled
with the ruffian that had entered the cottage. The struggle
was said to have been so severe that the broad stone at the
cottage door was half covered with blood ; when the ruffian
left the cottage, he gave utterance to a savage threat,
that the night should not pass without having his revenge.

As a panic had spread among the women and children of
the cottages, it seemed a measure of necessity to form a ~
party at once for their security. To call at every cottage,
to quiet the fears of their inmates, to proceed in quest of
the robbers, for such the gipsies were said to be, and con-
vince them that the neighbourhood was on the alert, was
instantly resolved on.

While I and the brother of my hostess were forming a
plan in the sitting parlour, in came suddenly from the great
hall the honest farmer, accompanied by Captain T——, a
friend, carrying a halberd, a sword, bludgeons, guns, and
pistols. These they laid before us on the table, and
directly began to load the pistols. It appeared that, having
heard of what had taken place, the farmer had hastened
home to make preparations to pursue the robbers.

It happened that a little time before, a murder had been
committed, and a reward was offered for the apprehension
of a female gipsy, a suspected party; and as a woman
accompanied the gang then in the neighbourhood, it was
thought probable that she might be the guilty person.

The night promised to be a dark one; but though a
cheerful fire, a good supper, a pair of warm blankets, with
a night-cap pulled over the ears, would have been much
more in keeping with comfort than prowling about in the
woods in search of gipsy-robbers, yet was there no disposi-
tion to enjoy them. One determination seemed to prevail,
168 RURAL PICKINGS.

and that was to capture the man who had entered the
cottage of Molly Prosser.

Had there been any inclination to back out of this
perilous adventure, the circumstances of the ‘case appeared
sufficiently formidable to justify such a prudential course.
It was no light affair to sally forth at night, the wind keen
as a razor, and the narrow lanes dark as a coal-hole, to
attack a set of pilfering cut-throats in the middle of a wood,
with a supposed murderess among them; but, as I said, no
one wished, for a moment, to absent himself from the
enterprise in hand.

Our worthy host, the honest farmer, was a man of resolu-
tion, and then he had served as captain of a company of
volunteers. But Captain T , as a veteran soldier, accus-
tomed to hairbreadth escapes in the Peninsular war, where
he had manned the trenches after they had been repeatedly
swept by the enemy’s murderous fire, was chosen as our
commander. Captain T , the farmer, our hostess’s
brother, two men-servants, and myself formed our gallant
band, all armed with bludgeons, in addition to which Cap-
tain T and the farmer carried pistols; the halberd,
the sword, and the guns had been laid aside.

We first called on the cottagers to know if the rumours
that had reached us were correct, and also to get a descrip-
tion of the man who at Molly Prosser’s had played the
ruffian. The information we gained was that the affair had
been a little coloured; that the gang was made up of six
sturdy, ill-looking scoundrels, with their donkeys, accom-
_ panied by a woman; and that the fellow we wished to
secure was dressed in a great-coat, with a light patch on his
shoulder. Having agreed to obey in all things the directions
of our commander, we set off on our hazardous enterprise.

The reality of our adventure was now apparent. It was






THE CAPLER WOOD ROBBERS. 169

no child’s play in which we were engaged. To suppose that
half-a-dozen thorough-bred ruffians, and such we considered
them to be, would allow one of their number to be captured
without a struggle was not a probable supposition; more
likely were they to fight like tigers. Every heart, however,
was firm, and every hand ready to do its duty.

As the general impression was that the gang would be
found in Capler Wood, we proceeded in that direction ; two
of our party keeping the lane, two others entering Bradeley
Coppice that skirted it, and the remaining two scouring the
fields on the right, with the understanding that a whistle
from any party should instantly bring us together.

The night, though not pitch dark, was sufficiently over-
cast, the hanging trees and bushes adding greatly to ‘the
gloom. We proceeded in silence, not a sound being heard
but the moaning wind as it wildly swept along from the
direction of Brockhampton, or from the river at the bottom
of the wood, and the occasional crash of a hedge, or of a
breaking branch as we forced our way through the coppice.
No place was left unexplored, no spot unchallenged, till we
assembled near Capler Wood.

Here we again divided, three of our band taking the lane
and fields on the right, while the rest entered the wood.
As Captain T and our good friend the farmer recon-
noitred the middle, and the lower part of the wood, the
upper part remained to me. Silently and stealthily we glided
through the leafy labyrinth under orders to meet again at
the gate, in ten minutes, should no discovery be made.

As I proceeded towards the highest part of the wood,
full of the enterprise in which we were engaged, and anxious
to discover the enemy, I came suddenly upon what appeared
to me in the gloom to be the encampment we were in
quest of ; but while cautiously endeavouring to approach it,


170 RURAL PICKINGS.

or rather, just at the moment that I discovered my mistake, .
a shrill whistle rang through the wood. We were soon
assembled at the gate. The field party reported that they
had discovered the ruffian gang, which had taken possession
of the cattle-shed at Bennet’s Barn, the entrance of which
was defended by a bull-dog. We instantly set off for
Bennet’s Barn.

And now the trying part of our adventure was at hand.
It was no longer doubtful whether our enterprise was a
perilous one. Six thorough-bred ruffians, in a dark shed
defended by a bull-dog, were now to be grappled with ; but
we had no faint hearts among us. The self-possession and
cool intrepidity of Captain T was beyond all praise,
ané the ardour of our good and excellent friend, the farmer,
‘ncreased rather than diminished with our danger. It was
asettled thing that, come what would, the ruffian in the great-
coat, with the light patch on his shoulder, should be taken.

No time was lost in reaching the scene of action, which
was a fold-yard of considerable extent, occupied on two of
its sides by a cattle-shed. There was no house near, and
the place was of the most lonely description. The fold-yard
being littered with straw, rendered objects within it visible,
but the shed was dark as midnight. The instant we
approached, the bull-dog fiercely rushed forward, but the bars
of the gate were close enough to defend us from his attack.

As the savage animal was bent on mischief, and as
nothing could be done till he was disposed of, after some
ineffectual attempts had been made to strike him on the
- head over the gate, Captam T cocked and presented
his pistol to dispatch him; but I arrested his arm at the
moment, urging on behalf of the dog that he was only doing
his duty in defending his masters, and suggested the plan
of summoning the ruffians from the shed.




THE CAPLER WOOD ROBBERS. 171

For some time no answer was given to the summons, and
the silence being ominous of evil, once. more our leader pre-
sented his pistol to destroy the dog, when a rustling was heard
in the straw, and a dark figure came slowly forth, yawning as
‘fhe had been aroused from slumber. Our captain commanded
him to lay hold of his dog on peril of having the animal
shot; but as it was possible that the fellow might slip the
dog at us when he pleased, he was ordered to take off his
neck-handkerchief, and tie the furious animal to the gate.
Scarcely was this done before we all leaped into the foldyard.

On being asked how many there were in the shed, the
fellow sulkily replied ‘two ;” but this was considered a
ruse on his part, and we were not to be thrown off our
guard. Had we been without a commander, most likely we
should have blundered on altogether in our attack; but
Captain T directed three of the party to enter at the
farther end, while the remainder of us stood ready at the
mouth of the shed to prevent an escape, and to resist the
rush we expected to be made upon us.

On again interrogating the fellow about his companions
he stoutly declared there were but two in the shed; and
when asked about the others, he replied there were no
others: that he was a sweep travelling about the country
with his wife and child, and that he knew nothing about a
gang of gipsies. We were not however to be deceived. We
had come out armed against a gang of gipsy-robbers; we
had discovered the place of their retreat; and anything
less than the capture of the man in the great-coat was not
for a moment to be thought of. A sweep indeed! Yes,
yes! if we allowed such a trumpery tale as that to deceive
us, we should deserve to be well buffeted with a. soot-bag
about our ears for our folly.

As the three who had entered the shed proceeded in


172 RURAL PICKINGS.

their search, the captain from time to time cried out—‘“‘ Is
all right?” to which the reply— All's right,” was regu-
larly returned. Now and then a sally was made from the
shed to the fold-yard, by a bullock, which added to the inte-
rest of our position and increased our watchfulness. At
last a shout was raised. The critical moment had arrived;
but instead of the rush of half-a-dozen robbers, our three
companions issued from the shed, bringing with them a
woman and child. Yes, positively a woman and child!
All “the pomp and circumstance of war!” all the ardour
and heroism of our adventure! all our hair-breadth escapes
and deathful dangers had dwindled down to this,—we had
captured a sweep with his wife and child!

What a “falling off was here!” Was there ever such
a ridiculous adventure? Think of our preparation and
parade! the halberd, the sword, the bludgeons, the guns,
and the pistols! Think of the coolness and promptitude
of our captain, and of our own self-possession, courage and
determination. Think of six ferocious villains in a dark
shed, guarded by a bull-dog, and then think of the glorious
result of all our achievements, the discomfiture of half-a-
dozen bullocks, and the capture of a sweep and his wife and
child! We were panic-struck! The mountain in labour
was a fable, but this was a reality! And then, to return to
Fawley Court, not as conquerors, with our prisoner and
the spoils of victory, but as crest-fallen, would-be warriors,
to be laughed at for the whimsical termination of our me-
morable campaign! Since this affair, our good friend the
farmer has been called away from the world, with, I think,
another of our party, but the captain and the rest of us yet
remain to talk over the events of days gone by, and to
relate among them the famous, but somewhat ridiculous
adventure of the Capler Wood Robbers.
LABS
{\S03V 7
D

CHAPTER XXV.

—_——-~@o--—
COUNTRY SIGHTS AND SOUNDS.

The love of natural scenery favourable to cheerfulness, virtue, and piety.—
A rural scene is a library.—Pleasant scenes in the country.—Riotous
noises in the farm-yard.—Sounds in the fields—The rookery.—The
warbling of birds.—The voice of the thunder storm, and the whispering
of the breeze.

T ought not, it must not, nay I think it cannot be reason-
ably doubted, that a love of the country, and of natural
scenery, is favourable to cheerfulness, to virtue, and piety,
yet are there many admirers of rural scenes and natural
objects, who pay but little attention to their Almighty

Maker. The gift is enjoyed, while the Giver is forgotten ;

but this is not the way to get good from the beautiful world

we inhabit. Until we can see not only the hand of God,
but also the goodness of God in his works, our profit will
never be equal to our pleasure. When an eye quick to
discern the beauty of natural objects, and a heart prompt
to acknowledge the goodness of our Heavenly Father, go

into the fields together, the glowing landscape becomes a

glorious scene, the hills appear to “ break forth into sing-

ing,” and the trees to “ clap their hands.”

“ Thou art, O God! the life and light
Of all this wondrous world I see ;
Its glow by day, its smile by night,
Are but reflections caught from thee ;
Where’er we turn, thy glories shine,
And all things fair and bright are thine.”
174 RURAL PICKINGS.

A rural scene is a library, and the skies, the clouds, the
hills, the valleys, the brooks, the animals, the birds, the
insects, the trees, the flowers, the leaves, and the blades of
grass are books of prose, poetry, elegant extracts and sound
information, by which we may improve in natural history,
botany, science, and philosophy, and in which we may read
essays on simplicity, lectures on economy, and profitable
sermons on the greatness and goodness of God.

There are a hundred things that make the country
delightful, and one of them is, that, go where you will, you
can never look about you long without something that would
make a pleasant picture meeting the eye. A cottage, with
a vine or a honeysuckle climbing up the front; an old oak
tree, whose goodly branches are laden with acorns and
adorned with ruddy oak balls; a pool, where ducks are
swimming, or flapping their wings, and diving under the
water; a high hedge, beautiful with wild roses, hips, haws,
and blackberries; a clear spring, at the bottom of a sand-
bank, down which are hanging lichens and creeping plants
in rich abundance; a little brook, where a country girl is
lifting water with a wooden bowl; a knolly field, where the
young lambs are racing in the sun; a retired pond, half-
grown over with bulrushes and sedgy grass, where the
dragon-fly is skimming swiftly around, with his green net-
work wings ; a coppice, where the nut boughs are laden with
clusters of brown shellers ; a wild common, where a donkey
is grazing, and a flock of geese are stocking up the grass; a
shady and retired nook, where a party of gipsies are boiling
their kettle, hung from three crooked sticks over the fire; a
paddock, in which four or five cart-horses are cropping the
herbage, and swinging their long tails over their backs, to
drive away the flies ; a sunny meadow, where the merry hay-
makers are at work, or a waving corn-field rich with golden
COUNTRY SIGHTS AND SOUNDS. 175

grain; a hedger in his thick boots and cumbrous mittens,
pleaching a thorny hedge; a high elm-tree, with a crow’s
nest built in the upper branches, the old crow sitting on the
topmost spray; a ridge of broken ground, glittering with the
yellow flowers of the furze-bushes ; a green meadow, where
cows of different colours are breathing sweet, as they sweep
the grass with their rough tongues, and tear it off with their
teeth; these, and a thousand other such pleasant pictures,
are to be seen in the country.
“ The leafy glory of the woods,
The rushing of the mountain floods,

The wind that bends the lofty tree,
All yield an inward joy to me.”

Quiet as the country may be, and hushed in deep repose,
there are seasons when the farm-yard appears to be almost
in ariot. It is even now, in my fancy, for the brown geld-
ing is neighing in the stable; the loud cackling geese
are flying to the pool; the peacock is screaming discordantly
from the pent-house top; the loud “ gobble!: gobble!” of
the turkeys is heard from the rick-yard; shaggy Jowler is
rattling his heavy chain and barking ; the thrashing machine
is clattering in the barn; an empty waggon is rumbling
along the rocky lane ; the pigs are squealing in the foldyard ;
old Thomas is sharpening his scithe on the grinding-stone ;
the farmer’s eldest son has just let off his gun ; a hawk with
a young pigeon in his claw has tumbled into the road; and
the farmer with his full-bodied voice is shouting aloud ‘‘ Keep
the old sow and pigs from routing through the hedge of the
back garden ! ”

Farther a-field, too, the sounds are various, for the lark is
singing in the air; the corncrake is crying in the mowing
grass ; the rooks are cawing over the high elm-trees; the
wild ducks are splashing in the water; the sheep are bleat-
176 RURAL PICKINGS.

ing and the lambs baaing in the meadows; the ploughboy
is whistling among the furrows; Trim, the black and tan
terrier, is barking at a hedge-hog, rolled up on the bank, by
the hollow tree; the huntsman’s horn is heard from the
coppice; and here come the dogs in full cry, loud and
clamorous, waking the echo of the distant hill. There !]
thought the sky was stormy,—what a clap of thunder !

The sight of a rookery on the tall elm-trees, and the
sounds made by the feathery colony, are equally attractive.
Strange it is, that notwithstanding the incessant cawing
made by both young birds and old, the cawing of the rook
is much more associated with silence, than with sound.
The striking of a church clock in the night has the same
effect, it renders more apparent the silence it has for a mo-
ment broken.

“Should I my steps turn to the rural seat
Where lofty elms and venerable oaks
Invite the rook, who, high amid the boughs,
In early spring his airy city builds,
And ceaseless caws amusive, there well pleased
I might the various polity survey
Of the mixed household kind.”

The following description of a rookery, by William Howitt,
will find its way to the heart of every reader, and revive
his recollections of the past.

“Who that has been brought up in the country has not
been accustomed from his infancy to hear the cawing of the
rookery ; to witness the active labour and cares, and schemes
of these birds in spring ?—has not stood by his father, or
other old friend, while the young have been fetched down
from the lofty elm by the cross-bow ?—has not run to fetch
it as it fell?—has not clambered into the green tree in
which it has, perhaps, lodged in falling, and hooked it down?
~

COUNTRY SIGHTS AND SOUNDS. 177

—has not helped the keeper to carry to the house the black
feathery bunch of young rooks thus shot, for the cook to
convert into the most savoury of country pies; or to be des-
patched in different directions as presents to friends? Who
has not in bright summer days, when the young have got
abroad, seen them in almost every green meadow, when the
country was all flowers and sweetness, with fluttering wings,
demanding food from their busy parents? And in the still,
broad, quiet sunshine of summer evenings, as he has sat in
garden arbour, or at open window, with the dear old friends
of his youth, has not often seen them come soberly home-
wards from their day’s wanderings, in a rustling and jetty
array, from whose wings the light of the setting sun glanced,
seeking those ancient and towering trees, which had over-
spread the hall for ages? Who in the days of warm feeling
and expanding affections, when life was a long summer of
happiness and gaiety ; when, perhaps, the attachment of a
life was growing, as he has ridden home in the sweet dusk of
a June midnight, has not heard them in their lofty nest, half
roused by the horse’s tread, give a rustle, a caw, and then
all quiet again? Or when he has looked out in the profound
quiet of such a midnight from his chamber-window, and felt,
as it were, the unseen odours of mingled flowers floating up
to him from the garden below, from beds made beautiful by
the fair hands of sisters, still more beautiful than their
flowers, and now perhaps dead or dispersed into wide
countries, or pulled down, and all their loveliness gone, like
a dream of such a night, with heartless husbands and luck-
less children, and has not heard from the tree-top some
faint mutter, some drowsy cry, as if the side-by-side-nestled
rooks were talking in their sleep, or were complaining of
being crowded by some heavy old fellow on their bough—
sounds which provoked laughter at the moment, but are
N
178 RURAL PICKINGS.

preserved in the memory for long years? In short, what
Englishman recalls the dear old home of his birth and his
youth, with all its affections and delights, and transactions ;
who recalls its garden nooks, its bee-hives by the sunny wall,
its fields, its woods, its friends, its favourite animals, its sorrows
and its merriments, its gay meetings and its partings to
meet there no more,—everything which makes that spot what
no other spot on earth besides ever can be by any magic,
even the most powerful magic of love,—and does not find the
English rook a part of his retrospect, uttering his joyous,
rough John-Bullish caw, or his laughable midnight mutter-
ing, insignificant as he is in himself, an indispensable
dweller in the paradise of the past? Nay, the very blue air
of a summer’s afternoon does not seem right to me without
the high-soaring, solemn wing of the rook; the fairer land-
scape is not complete without the rook; the flowery, deep
grassy, full fields of most glad spring would be melancholy
without the rook. The rook, with all its attendants of pert
jackdaws, and circling starlings, who love his sedate and
judge-like company, is dearer to an Englishman than he is
aware of.”

The warbling of birds is among the most joyous of country
sounds, the voice of the thunder-storm the most arresting,
and very sweet is the whispering of the winds.

“ Not rural sights alone, but rural sounds
Exhilarate the spirits, and restore
The tone of languid nature. Temperate winds
That sweep the skirt of some far spreading wood
Of ancient growth, make music not unlike
The dash of ocean on his sounding shore,
And lull the spirit while they fill the mind.”

The breeze! the breeze! how delightful is the fresh
breeze, when it blows round the hill, or gently sweeps along
COUNTRY SIGHTS. AND SOUNDS. 179

the valley, laden with the balmy odours of fragrant plants
and herbs! All our senses are regaled at once by the breeze,
—hearing, seeing, smelling, tasting, and feeling, are at the
same time gratified. .

Hark how it whispers among the sedge of the brook, and
the bulrushes and high grass of the lonely pond! How it
rustles among the dry leaves and brittle reeds in the hedge-
rows, and how sweetly and soothingly it swells on the ear
from the full foliage of the tall trees, now loud, and then
low, dying away in the distance till it becomes inaudible !

Look at the influence of the breeze on the objects around ;
the high grass is bending ; the ripe corn is waving, and the
boughs of the forest trees are gently swaying to and fro,
turning up the under sides of their many-coloured leaves.
The breeze makes lovely things more lovely.

What a fragance prevails when the breeze, scented with
the perfume of the new-made hay, of heath-flowers and wild
thyme, of beans, vetches, and clover in blossom, breathes
around its varied sweets! It is pleasant then to roam
abroad, and amid nature’s gentle excitation to rejoice.

To the taste the breeze is delightful. How fresh and
sweet it is, and what a sense of purity it imparts! We
swallow health in breathing it.

Be mine, when waving trees
And summer skies are given,
To taste the balmy breeze,
And drink the air of heavem!

Nor is the breeze less bountiful to the sense of feeling,
than to other senses. Oh, how gently it fans the face! how
soft it is to the touch! how cool to the fevered brow of
exercise! and how refreshing to the toil-worn and the faint!

How shall we thank the great Giver of all good for the
breeze? He can “ bring the wind out of his treasures” to

x 2

we
180 RURAL PICKINGS.

bless or to curse, to strengthen or to destroy. The breeze
is a viewless dispenser of pleasure—an invisible physician,
ministering to the enfeebled body and mind—an elemental
Samaritan, going about on errands of mercy, and a mes-
senger from the throne of the Eternal, to give health and
happiness to mankind.


CHAPTER XXVI.

—@—

THE OLD CHURCH PORCH.

Aged country people.—Their quaintness and quietude.— The village
churchyard.—The old church porch.—The aged rustic’s narrative.—The
group of graves.—Abel Haycroft and his three sons, Ambrose, Gideon,
and Gregory.—Ambrose goes to sea and returns.—Gideon goes abroad

and comes back.—Gregory receives them both.—Death of the two bro-
thers, Ambrose and Gideon.—Gregory, the aged rustic, finishes his story.

THERE is a quietude and quaintness of demeanour

among aged people. in the country, that renders it
pleasant to converse with them. You may, perhaps, if you
look for him, occasionally find, in farm-houses and cottages,
a loud-talking, bustling old man, with an air of importance
on his brow; but such an one is but an exception to a general
rule. Grey-headed and bald-headed country people are
usually grave, silent, and unpretending. There is, indeed,
no reason why they should be otherwise ; mingling as they
do among their equals, or with those who have always
acknowledged them their superiors, there would be no object
gained in affecting importance.

While making this remark, I have at least a score of
silent, thoughful-looking country characters in my eye, every
one of which has some demand on my respect, and many of
them on my affection. Iam fond of old people ; for though
age is not wisdom, it has so long been the companion of
182 RURAL PICKINGS.

experience, that it can hardly fail in many things to be wise.

There is
“ The quiet stillness of a thinking mind

Self-occupied ”

often very visible in aged country countenances, so that you
listen to the man of years, as to one on whom you can
depend. He will neither talk learnedly nor eloquently, nor
will he enter into matters too high for him; but in the
common things of life he is well instructed and will well
instruct you. Some time ago I met with the following de-
scription, evidently drawn by one of my own way of thinking :—

“T love to talk with the aged man; to enter into com-
munion with him of the grey head and the wrinkled fore-
head. Pleasant are the joyous gambols of light-hearted
childhood ; grateful are the hopeful anticipations of ardent
youth; and full of interest are the matured and stable attain-
ments of manhood ; but in the hour of solitude and reflection,
more pleasant, more crateful, and fuller of interest is the
chastened experience of the graver brow. There is that in
the straggling locks, the subdued features, and the quiet de-
meanour of old age hopefully looking onward, that harmonises
with my spirit. No wonder then, that having a full hour
to spare, I turned my steps to the old church porch.

“ T had walked, as a stranger, through the pleasant village,
and loitered for some time in the churchyard among the
tombs, gazing on the uncouthly-sculptured stones, and
reading their simple inscriptions, when turning towards a
group of hillocks by themselves, one of which was unturfed
and unbriered, I observed an old man, with a strip of black
crape round his hat, sitting alone in the porch. The
declining sun shone upon him as he sat bending forward,
leaning on his stick, which he held with both his hands. In
a little space I was seated beside him.

‘
THE OLD CHURCH PORCH. 183

“Tt was a lovely evening; for not only was the green leaf
on the tree, and the birds singing in the bush, but the —
pleasant breeze was abroad, and the snowy clouds in the
blue sky, as well as the churchyard, the fields, and the dis-
tant hills, were lit up with sunshine. Some say that man,
on his pilgrimage to a better world, has no time to muse
on the natural creation; but let them say what they will,
where a holy influence has led the eye and heart to regard
earth and skies as the handiwork of the Holy One, a
deeper reverence will be felt, and a warmer glow of thank-
fulness will be enjoyed. That old man, in the quiet musings
of his mind, sitting, as it were, in the garden of death,
seemed to enjoy the beauty and calmness of the summer
scene. ‘There was no despondency on his brow, but hope
and peace were there visibly portrayed. ‘True are the
words of the prophet, ‘ Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace
whose mind is stayed on Thee.’

“For more than fourscore summers, and as many winters,
had that aged man lived in the village, rarely roaming a
dozen miles from the place. He had whistled in the fields
as a ploughboy in his childhood, guided the share through
the soil in his youth, and ploughed, and sowed, reaped and
mowed, with a lusty arm, in his manhood, the broad acres
which had been tilled by his fathers before him. From his
discourse I soon gathered that he had been one among the
better class of cottagers, looked up to by those below him,
and respected by those above him, and that then, in the
latter end of his days, his trust being in Him, whom to
know is eternal life, he was looking ‘ for a city which hath
foundations, whose builder and maker is God.’

“While we sat together in the porch, my grey-headed
companion ran over the names of the several pastors who,
in his time, had guided the village flock. Some of these
184 RURAL PICKINGS.

ministers had removed to better benefices, and some had
‘fallen asleep.’ He had seen in his day the church once
new-roofed, and the spire twice new-shingled. There were
but three men in the neighbourhood who were older than
he, and not one among them, like him, could walk about in
the sunshine and inhale the pleasant breeze. ‘ There
were,’ said he, ‘ Gaffers and Gammers in my younger days,
but such names are now seldom or never heard of.’

‘‘He spoke of the monuments in the chancel of the church;
some had been erected in the life-time of his grandfather,
and that of the knight in chain armour, lying on his back
with his two-handed sword beside him, was much older. He
spoke also of the broad flat grey stones inlaid with brass,
that were so much worn away by the foot, across which the
shepherd and part of his flock frequently walked, and over
which the little lambs of the Sunday-schools were con-
tinually passing.

Marble shall moulder and decay,
And solid brass shall wear away ;

While God’s eternal word, secure
Mid rolling ages, shall endure.

“Many were the green hillocks and graven stones of the
village churchyard, and not a few of those who slept beneath
them had been known to the aged cottager, who seemed to
take a pleasure in relating what he knew about them, and in
looking back on days which had long gone by. He told me
of the old squire who lived at the hall, and of Madam Blox-
ham, who once inhabited the large house called the Rookery.
She had considered the poor, and the Lord had delivered
her in the time of trouble, strengthening her upon the bed
of languishing, and making all her bed in her sickness.
The squire was lying in the vault with the marble tomb
over it, at the north end of the church; and the dust of
THE OLD CHURCH PORCH. 185

Madam Bloxham reposed beneath the plain monument
near the belfry door, surrounded by the iron palisades.

“As the old cottager sat talking, his eyes were often
turned to the group of graves clustered together as though
they belonged to the same family. One of these, as I said
before, had neither brier nor green turf upon it. ‘Tell
me,’ said I, ‘who are lying there?’ There was that in
the manner of my aged companion, as he entered on his
account, which led me to suppose he had more than a
common interest in his narrative ; I remained silent while
he gave me the following story :—

‘““¢Those who lie there, sir,’ said he, ‘as you seem to
suppose, all sprang from the same stock, and I humbly and
heartily trust that their names are all ‘written in the book
of life.” Abel Haycroft was an upright hard-working man,
fearing God and acting a kind part to his neighbours.
Such a man ought not to have had an enemy in the world ;
but he had one, and a bitter one too, who wronged him,
forced him to go to law, and ruined him. When I say
ruined him, I mean that he took from him his earthly
property; for Abel had a heavenly inheritance that no
one could take away. It seemed a hard thing that he,
who had owned land as a master, should be compelled to
till it as a servant; but so it was, and Abel left the house
on the farm to live ina cottage. Where the fear of God
is, no one can be altogether unhappy. Abel repined not at
the loss of his lands. ‘The Lord gave,” said he, ‘ and the
Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”
Abel, after all, was a richer man than he who had oppressed
him ; for “better is a little with righteousness than great
revenues without right.”

«* Abel Haycroft had three sons, Ambrose, Gideon, and
Gregory. “The lads must work, as I have done,” said he ;
186 RURAL PICKINGS.

“but that will not hurt them, for the sleep of a labouring
man is sweet. They have learned to read God's holy word,
and I hope some of it is in their hearts.” Abel lies under
the third hillock yonder ; for the first, with the head-stone,
is.the resting-place of his father, and the second that of his
uncle. He died as he had lived, a humble disciple of the
Redeemer, and I can fancy, though I was but a lad when
he left the world, that I now hear the minister giving out
the text for his funeral sermon,—‘ The Lord giveth and the
Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”

“<< Ambrose, Gideon, and Gregory, loved as brothers should
love one another. ‘‘ How good and how pleasant it is for
brethren to dwell together in unity!” While they were
together they felt strong—for “a threefold cord is not
quickly broken ;” but a time came when they were to part.

« «A man visited the village who had been at sea, and he
talked so glibly about gallant ships and studding-sails, and
the white foam and the green ocean, and ivory and gold-
dust, and sunny islands, and macaws, and cocoa-nuts, that
the head of poor Ambrose was fairly turned, so that nothing
would do but he must go to sea. To sea he went, and how-
ever it might be with the other matters, right little of the
ivory and gold-dust came to his share. Of the sun, poor
fellow, he had enough; for he came back, after living in
India twenty years, with neither health nor wealth. It
was well that his brother Gregory had stuck to the plough,
and got a little beforehand, for it enabled him to give
Ambrose a home in the cottage of his father.

“ «Before Ambrose came home Gideon went abroad, for
he had heard that in the West, land was to be had for little
or nothing—a labouring man was sure to prosper there,
for food was cheap and they had no taxes. Childhood is
the proper time to blow bubbles, but some people are
THE OLD CHURCH PORCH. 187

inclined to blow them all the days of their lives. Poor Gideon
was one of this sort, but even he was tired of the sport at
last, He had a log-house, with abundance of swampy land
that he could not drain, and plenty of fir-trees that he could
not fell. Hard was his struggle, but at last the hot sun and
the swampy fog were too much for him; the fever laid hold
of him, and he came back to the land of his fathers poorer
than he left it. Gregory opened his cottage-door wide to
receive his broken-down brother, and, to make a long story
short, the three brothers dwelt together in affection and
peace, and the blessing of God rested upon them.

‘< «Whatever else we may forget, sir, it behoveth us never
to forget God, for his mercy is in the heavens and his faithful-.
ness reacheth unto the clouds. The three brothers, as I said,
dwelt together. They read God's holy word, bent their knees
together at a throne of grace, and would have continued to
walk together to the house of God in company to their lives’
end, had not the infirmities of Ambrose and Gideon gained
upon them; but their faith was strong in Him who lived
and died for sinners, and they trusted in him. It is fifteen
years come Bartlemas since Ambrose was carried to the
grave, and his brothers, knowing that he had looked onwards
to a glorious resurrection, were enabled to say, with submis-
sion to God's holy will, “The Lord gave and the Lord hath
taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”

“ Having thus spoken, the old man stood up, and walked
gently to the hillock which had neither brier nor green turf.
‘And here lies Gideon,’ said he, his voice a little faltering,
‘for yesterday he too was carried to the grave, the ‘ house
appointed for all living,” but he knew in whom he trusted.
It becomes us all, sir, to be ready to depart, but especially
such an old man as I am, for there is but a step between
me and death. ‘All the days of my appointed time will I
188 RURAL PICKINGS.

wait, till my change come.” ‘‘ Let me die the death of the
righteous, and let my last end be like his.” ’

«“« And what became of the remaining brother?’ said I,
more than half suspecting that I was talking with him.
‘What became of Gregory?’ said I, as he lifted his broad-
brimmed hat, with the crape round it, from his hoary head,
and bent to me, about to take his leave. ‘He remains,’
said he, ‘in the village still, preparing for the future, for
though he is yet able to hobble about the scenes of his
childhood, and to sit at eventide in the old church porch,
looking on the graves of his brothers, he well knows that
his time is short. Many have been God’s unmerited mer-
cies to me,’ continued he, wiping away with his sleeve,
the tear that had risen in his eye, ‘and this is not the least
of them, that, rejoicing in the hope set before me, 1 can
still say, though health and strength have departed, ‘The
Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away ; blessed be the
name of the Lord.” ’”
LERESD

CHAPTER XXVII.

—@-—

THE VILLAGE INN.

Rural scenes, however varied and variable, are essentially the same.—Jeremy
Taylor’s description of the rising sun.—Sketch of summer.—The soft-
ening effect of distance on a landscape.—The beer-shop.—The Village
Inn.—Its attractions.—Its occasional visitors.—Poor Mary.

AMID all the changes of this mutable world, country

scenes, varied and variable as they may be, are essen-
tially the same. Talk of old times! These are the same,
old times, new times, and all times. We may change, and
manners and customs may change, but the birds, fhe trees,
the flowers, and all the pickings of rural life, remain the
same. ‘The air is fresh, the sky is blue, the sun is bright,
the leaves are green, the flowers are fair as they used to be,
and he who wanders among them will never be weary of
their delights. He will look around him with love and
joy, and find, from the rising to the setting sun, objects of
delight.

Jeremy Taylor says of the rising sun,—" When the sun
approaches towards the gates of the morning he first opens
a little eye of heaven, and sends away the spirits of darkness,
and gives light to a cock, and calls up the lark to matins,
and bye-and-bye gilds the fringes of a cloud, and peeps over
the eastern hills, thrusting out his golden horns like those
which decked the brows of Moses, when he was forced to
wear a veil, because himself had seen the face of God ; and
190 : RURAL PICKINGS.

still, while a man tells the story, the sun gets up higher,
till he shows a full, fair light and a face, and then he shines
one whole day, under a cloud often, and sometimes weeping
great and little showers, and sets quietly ; so is a man’s
reason and his life.”

Let me here, while the fit is on me, give a slight sketch
of summer :—

It was summer, and lovely Nature, decked in her loveliest
dress, was keeping holiday. The trees were rich in foliage,
the full-blown flowers flung around their sweets, and the
bee and the butterfly, with myriads of other winged insects,
were abroad on the same errand—to make the most of the
joyous hours.

The fields gave promise of a goodly harvest, and the
heart felt that the pledge would be redeemed. The land-
scape was soft yet radiant; a rich hazy golden light was
abroad. The windows of the distant houses seemed in a
blaze, and a sparkling star glittered on the weather-cock of
the village church.

The horses in the pasture lands had sought the shade of
the large trees, shaking their heads to get rid of the gnats,
and lashing the flies from their flanks with their tails; the
cattle were standing in the brook or in the buttercupped
meadow of green and gold. The heart of the husbandman
was merry, the voice of laughter rang from the hay-field,
the patient angler sat in the shady nook, and the shrill
chirp of the grasshopper was heard among the blossomed
clover. ‘‘ Ob what a garden has a grasshopper ! ”

Hope, expectation, and promise pervaded all things ; that
summer was come was a truth that every heart acknow-
ledged, for it was inscribed on all created things—the hot
breeze breathed it around. The fruits and flowers declared
it; the birds sang it, and the bright, glowing, glorious sun
THE VILLAGE INN. 191

wrote legibly, in letters of gold, both on the earth and in
the heavens, ‘ Summer is abroad!”

The effect of distance on a landscape is very pleasing.
Before we can discover the individual beauty of shrubs and
flowers, and moss, and sedgy grass, and green leaves, we
must approach them; but on the bolder and vaster objects
of natural scenery, distance bestows an additional beauty.
The rifted rock, the rushing river, the hanging wood, the
rugged cliff, and the cloud-capped mountain, are the more
agreeable when seen from afar. Distance smoothes their
ruggedness and renders the prospect so harmoniously sweet,
so meltingly soft and fading, that you cannot tell the moun-
tains from the skies, nor earth from heaven.

« At summer eve, when heaven’s aerial bow
Spans with bright arch the glittering fields below,
Why to yon mountain turns the musing eye,
Whose sunbright summit mingles with the sky ?
Why do those cliffs of shadowy tint appear
More sweet than all the landscape smiling near !
*Tis distance lends enchantment to the view,
And robes the mountain in its azure hue.
Thus with delight we linger to survey
The promised joys of life’s unmeasured way ;
Thus from afar each dim discovered scene
More pleasing seems than all the past hath been !
And every form that fancy can repair
From dark oblivion, glows divinely there.”

The Village Inn must appear among my Pickings of
Rural Life, being too important an object to be altogether
neglected. The pot-house, or beer-shop, which has sprung up
of late years, called Tom-and-Jerry in the Midland counties,
and Kidley-Wink in the West of England, is very different
to the Village Inn or alehouse of more ancient standing.
192 RURAL PICKINGS.

That there are alehouses enough of an obj ectionable cha-
racter, where neither the host nor his usual customers can
reasonably lay much claim to sobriety or morality is certain,
but the quiet, thriving, old-fashioned, well-conducted road-
side Village Inn, is not to be spoken of in so light a
manner.

Houses of this latter description, in the midst of their
endless variety have some general features, of so agreeable
a kind that few people are altogether proof against their
attractions. They may stand on a flat or a sloping green,
or on a gentle rise, a little removed from the road. ‘They
may be called the King’s Head, the Green Dragon, the
Golden Crown, the Royal Oak, or the Malt Shovel. ‘The
painted sign may be fastened over the door, or suspended
from two high posts, or swing from one that resembles a
gallows, or it may have for its support the large spreading
tree growing in front of the house. There may be, or there
may not be, a malt-house attached to the premises, with
stables for horses and a shed for a spring-cart or two, or a
chaise. In these things they may differ, but in others they
are sure to agree.

Whether they are large or small, timber-framed, white-
washed, stuccoed or brick, they are tolerably certain to have
an attentive host and hostess; a good fire in the kitchen; a
clean, quiet, cheerful parlour; a neat bed-room; a comfort-
able bed with snow-white sheets ; fowls, bacon, fresh eggs,
butter and vegetables, with a good garden well stocked with
gooseberry and currant trees, and a pleasant arbour.

Who is there who has not spent an agreeable day or two
at one of these rural caravanseras, where “good entertain-
ment for man and horse” is provided on reasonable terms ?
Who has not been bowed in by the bare-headed Boniface,
and welcomed with a smile by the good-tempered hostess
THE VILLAGE INN. 193

and her daughter? And who has not marvelled again and
again at the freshness of the air, the brightness of the fire,
the cleanliness of the rooms, the excellence of the meat, the
sweetness of the bread, the fineness of the ale, the thickness
of the cream, and the low charge that has been made for
them all ?

At such houses as these, magistrates often meet, sports-
men and fishermen drop in for a meal, and, now and then,
there a new-married couple take up their temporary abode.
Being in one of these wayside Village Inns now, I will give
a poetic sketch of poor Mary.

Mine host is much to mirth inclined, -
In manner and deportment free ;
Mine hostess vigilant and kind,—
A kinder creature cannot be !
But ’*tis not manners free and fair,
Nor all their kind officious care ;
Their crackling faggot’s cheerful blaze,
Their wholesome food and cleanly ways ;
Nor yet the flavour of their store
That lures me to the Pot-house door :—
To gaze, with mingled hope and fear,
Mary ! thy form has brought me here.

Tis not of health the blooming flower
That fills the stripling’s heart with glee,
Tis not the momentary power
Of beauty that enamours me ;
For though a secret, silent grace,
Tempt me to gaze upon her face,
Yet every charm that draws me near,
Sorrow and pain have planted there.

Not twenty summer’s suns have roll’d
Their radiant glory round her head,

O
194

RURAL PICKINGS. .

Yet Mary’s earthly years are told,
And all her youthful charms are fled.
What though her wants may be preferr’d,
And now and then she quits her chair,
Her silent footsteps are not heard,
Her voice scarce undulates the air.
No smile on Mary’s face may cling,—
A listless, lifeless, living thing.

While yet of tender years and weak,
Affliction bade her frame decline ;

And, legibly upon her cheek,
Consumption wrote—* The maid is mine !”

There is, when earthly troubles cease,

A world of light, and love, and peace,
And boundless joy—and long ago

Poor Mary ! I have told her so ;—

Yet still, so free from hope and fear,

My voice she hardly seems to hear :—
Nor seeking joy, nor fearing pain,

No warning words have waked her brain :
Though I have watch’d her well, and stood,
Fostering in sympathetic mood,

Emotions strong as I do now,

No thought has settled on her brow,

And not the slightest, faintest streak

Of inward feeling stain’d her cheek.

I never saw a face so pale ;
I never knew a form so spare ;

It seems as though her body frail
Would melt and mingle with the air.

There is a soul-absorbing smart,

A pensive pang that thrills the heart,
When, gazing on our kindred clay,
We see it hourly waste away :—

But Mary, with an earthward eye,
Steals to the grave so silently,
THE VILLAGE INN. 195

One might suppose, so calm her breath,
That life had nought to yield to death.
The spring and summer gales have blown,
But they are over, past and gone ;

And winter’s warring winds are near,

For autumn’s dropping leaf is sere,

And Mary’s lot is symboll’d there.

But, I must mount my weary beast,
Though anxious thoughts disturb my breast.
Poor Mary ! well, it must be so!

A little more of weal and woe,

Of shine and shade, of joy and pain,

Will pass, and I shall call again.

Yes! I shall call again with fear,
And gaze upon a vacant chair,
And of mine hostess kind, inquire
Why Mary sits not by the fire ?

And I shall hear the dame reply,

A tear-drop starting in her eye,

While mournfully she shakes her head,

“ Ah! well-a-day ! Poor Mary’s——dead.’


(RAS

CHAPTER XXVIII.

CHANGE AND VARIETY IN RURAL SCENERY.

Rural Changes.—Reflections.—The frosty morning.—The elm, the birch,
and the holly.—The copses, the sand-bank, and the valley.—Horses,
cattle, sheep, colts, and pointer dog.—The covered waggon.—The stage
coach.—The pedlar and the Irish tramper.—Boys sliding.—Tracks in
the snow.—Peggy and her patten.—The hawthorn and spring.—The
pollard oak.—The field, the lane, the coppice, and the common.

THOUGH the country in its general features is ever the
same, yet it is ever changing. Its hills, its woods,

its brooks, and its farm-houses are, for the most part,
stationary, but its fields present us with a continual variety. .
The mattock, the spade, and the plough, tear up the earth
where stood the coppice, and where grew the clustering nuts
that we gathered with delight. The sunny hay-field in
which we gambolled at one time, is covered with buttercups,
and stocked with cattle at another. Where the golden grain
waved gracefully in the autumnal breeze, the green turnip
spreads its verdant leaves, and the high picturesque hedges
in which the pie-finch built her nest, are made monotonously
low and regular. Some changes afford us joy, while others
induce reflection. Let me for a moment indulge my thoughts.
In a world that is given to change, we should prepare for
changes. Folly sees no wisdom in this, but wisdom sees
much folly in neglecting it. Though we discern our path by
day, we require a lantern by night. Though we go thinly clad
in summer, we stand in need of a thicker garment in winter.
CHANGE AND VARIETY IN RURAL SCENERY. 197

The ostrich which hopes to escape danger by closing her
eyes and burying her head in the sand, is a lively resem-
blance of him who, in youth, never thinks of age—in
health disregards sickness; in life reflects not on death ;
and in time prepares not for eternity.

What a goodly and glorious orb is that which is now light-
ing up the skies, and gilding the earth with its golden rays!
And what a change would take place were it suddenly to be
blotted out from the firmament! This world would, indeed,
be changed then, for the twinkling of a few stars would be
but a sorry substitute for the blaze of day. We might look
for spring, and summer, and autumn, but we should not
find them. The ice-bound earth would no longer present
us with grass, and trees, and fruits, and flowers; hunger
and cold would pinch us, and never-ending winter, and
visible darkness, and dreary desolation would reign over
the earth. The very thought should make us grateful for
the simplest flower that adorns our path; yea, for the
meanest blade of grass that springs beneath our feet. But
though such a reflection as this may not be valueless, it will
hardly answer my purpose to pursue it. Changes that are
certain, have a better claim on our attention than those
which are unlikely.

To remain on the exposed heath when the tempest is
approaching; to loiter on the sea-sands when the over-
whelming tide is rushing onward with all its waves, is no
proof of discretion. 'The coming tempest and the returning
tide are not more certain than the changes of the world.
The boy of seven years knows this, and the old man of
seventy has it graven on his heart. Have I not seen the
proud man humbled to the dust ?—the rich man receiving
pay as a pauper ?—thewise man prattling in second childish-
ness ?—the strong man tottering on two sticks? Have I
198 RURAL PICKINGS.

not seen the proud, the rich, the wise, the strong, and the
beautiful, pale and motionless as marble, shrouded and
coffined, ready for the:tomb? Ihave! If then the gold
of the world becomes “dim,” and its ‘fine gold changed ;”’
if things that we value so highly, thus change and become
valueless, we ought to prepare for the change by seeking to
attain what changeth not. Though I speak to myself, the
reflection is suited to all; to him who abounds, and to him
who suffers need ; to him who is young, and to him who is
bending with age; to him who receives, and to him who
imparts instruction.

Prepare for changes, is the language of reflection, for
changes are ever coming on the wings of the wind. The
fairest must fade; the dearest must die; the pyramids
themselves will moulder away, and the everlasting hills
crumble into dust.

The sun, that one moment shines in unclouded glory, is,
in the next, obscured. The clouds, that sailed along the
skies in one form, soon assume another. There are pleasant
changes, as well as those that are painful; the corn blade
turns into the ear ; the blossom into the fruit; the crawling
grub into a butterfly. Without change creation would
lose half its beauty, and mankind, much more than half
their enjoyments. As human beings we are dependent
on change.

“Change is the very spice of ™ which gives
It all its flavour.” * % *

‘Change is the diet on which all subsist,
Created changeable, and change at last
Destroys us.”

There is nothing on which the eye can gaze that remains

stationary. Everything is either imparting, receiving,
gaining strength, declining, freshening, fading, moving,
CHANGE AND VARIETY IN RURAL SCENERY. 199

changing its form, or growing old. The heavenly bodies
revolve in their courses; the sun ariseth and setteth ; ‘‘ the
wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about unto the
north;” the rivers “run into the sea;” the wide ocean
continually ebbs and flows ; the animal, mineral, and vege-
table world present new appearances ; the dust of man
returns to the earth as it was, and his spirit into the hands
of God who gave it.

My moralising mood being now over, let me just touch
on the variety in rural scenery, even under circumstances
by no means favourable. We will not look around us in
spring, summer, or autumn, because we know that then
the most charming variety is presented to the eye. We
will take a less favourable season.

Let us go abroad now the ponds and the running brooks
are frozen, and a fall of snow, four inches deep, lies on the
ground. “But,” say you, “ there is no variety.” No
variety! Look at the blue heavens above, one part bright
and clear, another dappled and freckled with cloudlets ; to
the north a solitary island seems bedded in a sea of azure,
while the south is spread with white drapery-like masses of
such dazzling beauty, that one might think the very angels
had hung them up on high, and gilded their edges with sun-
beams to call forth the admiration of mankind.

No variety! The tall elms are of themselves a picture,
their dark and stately trunks whitened over on one side,
with every branch and spray powdered to its very tip. The
beauteous birch, the fairy of the woods, hangs its head and
laden boughs as if ashamed of the dinginess of its silvery
bark. The bright-leaved red-berried holly exults in the
wide-spread wintry scene, and the almost buried bramble,
overcome by his burden, seems to bow down his head to the
ground.
200 RURAL PICKINGS.

No variety! Look at the snow-streaked hedges and the
copses—the low shrubs and the high trees—the sand-bank
near, and the distant hill—the clear pathway, swept by the
winds, and the snowdrift in the valley. Here is a piece of
timber—there lies a new plough, and yonder stands an old
hovel, all diversifying the scene.

No variety! See the horses in the fold-yard with their
frozen manes and tails—the cattle with their powdered top-
knots—the sheep in the field scooping out the inside of the
turnips with their sharp teeth—the shaggy colts in the
bushy broken ground, and Dash the spaniel, and Pompey
the pointer dog, running and rolling themselves in the
snow half wild with joy. I could find in my heart to thank
God for them, seeing that they cannot thank him for
themselves.

No variety! Look at the turnpike road where the broad-
wheeled, covered waggon, a moving avalanche, glides down
the hill, preceded by eight broad-breasted heavy-heeled
horses, and attended by the great-coated driver on his grey
pony. Look at the stage-coach and four bays, for there are
now not many such sights to be seen,—the passengers in their
cloaks, Petershams and caps, and the coachman with his
worsted comforter up to his ears. Look at the traveller in
his gig—the pedlar with his pack; and there goes a blue-
coated Irish tramper, with his honey of a wife, without
stockings. Whether they are the best, or the worst people
in the world, this is not the morning to inquire. I will be
after them, and they shall have a mug of warm ale any how,
at the Queen’s Head, to drink “to the honour of ould
Ireland.”

No variety! Have a peep then at the pond, where a
dozen boys of different ages, sizes, dresses, and dispositions,
are assembled at their slide : one in a smock-frock leads the
CHANGE AND VARIETY IN RURAL SCENERY. 201

way, spreading out his arms like a finger-post, due east and
west; he is followed by a youngster in corduroys, who, in
attempting to slide on one foot, falls at his full length—over
him tumble in succession the motley, happy-hearted throng
—shouts and laughter ring through the air, and hobnailed
shoes, ragged jackets, caps without rims, hats without crowns,
heads, legs and arms are huddled and heaped up together in
strange confusion.

No variety ! Why, look at the tracks in the snow,—horse-
tracks, cattle-tracks, sheep-tracks—here a hare has run
through the hole in the hedge—there a dog has dashed
across the ditch—and all around are the footprints of clogs
and hobnailed shoes. See here! Peggy has lost her patten !
but she shall have it again if I can find her out, with a new
pair of strings, too, for the one in the patten is broken.

No variety! Gaze a moment on the mottled hawthorn
there, hanging over the spring in the sheltering sand-stone
bank, every spray, and pointed thorn dappled with snow ;
* and look at the ivy-clad pollard oak beside it, all bark and
touchwood, and hollow as a drum. There! a mouse has
run from the clustering ivy into the hollow tree. A black-
bird has sprung from the mottled hawthorn, shaking the
bush, and there is nowa silvery shower of descending snow—
beautiful! beautiful!

No variety, indeed! Is there no variety in the field and
the lane, the coppice and the common—the dry crimp snow
under your foot—the walk and the run—the pure, keen
bracing air that freshens the spirit, and the healthy exercise
that brightens the eye, reddens the cheek, gives a glow of
pleasure to the heart, and sends the warm blood spinning to
the very toes! Oh yes! Go abroad when you will in the
country, and you will find variety.

The other day I met with the following lines on winter,
202 RURAL PICKINGS.

and as they are full of points, I will just introduce them
here, among my Pickings of Rural Life.

« Old Winter, he ne’er puts a fire on,
A sturdy soul and tough ;
His flesh as firm as hammered iron,
No blast for him too rough.

He is the hardiest of men—
He burns no sick-room tapers ;
His house it freezes “ but and ben ;”
He feels no sweats nor vapours.

He makes his toilet out of doors—
He never airs his shirt ;

He has no colics, toothaches, sores,—
By nothing is he hurt.

Him no sweet flowers, nor summer tints,
Nor song of birds can charm ;

He shuns hot fires, drinks “ nae het pints,”
Hates everything that’s warm.

When foxes bark upon the heather,
Wood crackles on the grate,

And all rub hands through stress of weather,
And show their shivering state ;—

When rocks are split, and bones are brittle,
Clothes rustle, pitchers break,

The rogue, he disna care a spittle,
His sides are like to crack.

His winter palace far away,
He builds upon the pole,

His summer-house he rents in May,
High up in the Tyrol.

Where’er he rules, bound hard and fast,

_ His soldiers stand at ease ;

And as his sledge steals swiftly past,
We catch a glimpse and freeze.”
CHAPTER XXIX.

MOSSY BANKS AND GURGLING STREAMS.
Soothing influence of rural scenes.—Goodness of God set forth in the
harmony, peacefulness, and beauty of creation.—The retired valley.—
The wood.—The brook.—The pools.—The falls—Mossy banks and

gurgling streams.— Miniature cavern.— Wayside objects. —Christmas.—
Old observances.—The village church.

A® rural scenes soothe the spirit, so do they incline the heart
to kindness. What is the world, and what are the

world’s treasures without affection? Oh, spirit of love, thou
smoothest the roughest and gildest the darkest pathway !
It is thine to pour balm into every wound and to half recon-
cile us to our heaviest afflictions.

“ Thou makest all things sacred by thy touch

Of hand or foot; there’s not a leaf or flower

That meets thy gaze, but owns thy magic power,

And breathes thy name in perfumed accents—such

As beauty’s titled daughters never knew. How much,

Let the warm heart speak, that gusheth hour by hour,
Though tempests crash and threat’ning storm-clouds lower.”

What a spirit of love has the Almighty Giver of sylvan
delight manifested to mankind in the general harmony, and
‘peacefulness, and beauty of creation! Heavenly hands have
beautified the earth with verdure, decorated it with sun-
shine, and profusely scattered our paths with flowers ! Who
has not felt this, and who has not gazed on the glory of the
setting sun, with heart visibly beating and pulse throbbing
204 RURAL PICKINGS.

wildly, carried away by the indescribable glory of the western
sky, till the insufferable brightness has blinded the vain
idolater, whose soul, for the moment, has been erringly
offering incense to the creature instead of the Creator?
The bright breezy hills purple with flowers; the heart-
expanding valleys gushing with rivulets of crystal clearness ;
the rich garniture of fields and woods, vocal with melodious
sounds, and the sweet, cool, shaded and secluded mossy
banks and gurgling streams of the country are more than
beautiful ; they call forth emotions of delight ; they demand
the tribute of praise !

Oh, sweet is the retired valley that is now before me,
where the mossy banks are manifold, and the hidden brook
is heard gurgling in its meandering course! What a spot
is this to muse alone in summer-tide, or when the sere
leaves of autumn are trembling on the bough !

“ At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still,
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove ;
When nought but the torrent is heard on the hill,
And nought but the nightingale’s song in the grove.”

The little vale is bounded wholly on one side, and par-
tially on the other, by a wood ; and a narrow brook, skirted
with all the wild entanglement of reed and fern, and bramble
and wild rose, now winding its way tortuously, and now
falling in foamy cascades, runs along the deep hollow that
is hidden by the overhanging brushwood. Here and there
the banks of the brook are openly seen, and choice and
beautiful plants, set by the fair hands of a baronet’s daughter,
a dear lover of sylvan scenes, who resides in the neighbour-
hood, give an added charm to the sequestered scene !

In tracing the course of the brook, I have found in the
smooth pools that occur in its course, miniature Lake Lo-
MOSSY BANKS AND GURGLING STREAMS. 205

monds and Genevas; and in the tumbling torrents, infant
cataracts of the Nile and Falls of the Niagara.

“0 Glory ! Glory ! mighty one on earth !
How justly imaged in the waterfall !
So wild and furious in thy sparkling birth,
Dashing thy torrents down, and dazzling all ;
Sublimely breaking from thy glorious height,
Majestic, thundering, beautiful and bright.

“ How many a wondering eye is turn’d to Thee,
In admiration lost ! short-sighted men !
Thy furious wave gives no fertility ;
Thy waters, hurrying fiercely through the plain,
Bring nought but devastation and distress,
And leave the flowery vale a wilderness.

“ Oh fairer, lovelier, is the modest rill,
Watering with steps serene the field, the grove—
Its gentle voice as sweet, and soft, and still
As shepherd’s pipe, or song of youthful love.
It has no thundering torrent ; but it flows
Unwearied, scattering blessings as it goes.”

I could sing in the joyousness of my heart of the influ-
ence of mossy banks, gurgling streams, and sylvan scenery.
“Tam standing,” says a lover of nature, “ by the side of a
high bank, on which the setting sun is shining. The
receding earth has formed a hollow, a kind of cavern on a
small scale, from the roof of which are hanging thousands
of slender roots with little dry clods of earth adhering to
them. ‘The breeze has put the slender roots in motion,
and they and the suspended clods are fantastically moving
in all directions, apparently mingling with the shadows
they occasion against the farther side of the hollow. There
is something exquisite in the wild witchery of this scene.
206 RURAL PICKINGS.

I have gazed delighted on many an excavation of nature
and art,

Chambers fair and glorious halls,
Sparkling roof and glittering walls ;

but this is entrancing. Caverns of Derbyshire, ye are
outdone! Grotto of Antiparos, here is thine equal ! ”

Whether in the vast or minute, Nature is indeed beau-
tiful, and sweet are her salutary influences. In her seclu-
sions the littlenesses of life prevail not; the envious and
hateful emotions, the over-reaching, grasping, money-clutch-
ing artifices that disfigure humanity are in abeyance, for
nothing calls them forth. Natural scenes are favourable to
peaceful emotions and kindly aspirations. When man com-
pares himself with pigmy man, he is proud; but when
brought fully into contact with the works of God, his pride
is humbled and brought low. Solitude has given birth to
many a high-wrought and ennobling plan of benevolent
action. ‘The very absence of our fellow-creatures promotes
a love for them in our hearts, and the philanthropic sugges-
tion of the poet is in unison with our desires.

“ Some high or humble enterprise of good,
Contemplate till it shall possess thy mind,
Become thy study, pastime, rest, and food,
And kindle in thy heart a flame refined.
Pray Heaven for firmness thy whole soul to bind
To this thy purpose, to begin, pursue,
With thoughts all fix’d, and feelings purely kind,
Strength to complete and with delight review,
And grace to give the praise where all is ever due.”

In rural rambling there are unnumbered minor sources
of interest and pleasure—wayside objects and circumstances
that arrest the eye and occupy different dispositions. hare runs across the lane; a covey of partridges rises from
MOSSY BANKS AND GURGLING STREAMS. 207

the stubble-field, or a pheasant from the copse ; a gipsy-tent
is pitched in the quiet nook under the high hedge ; a jack-
ass hobbles along the dry ditch with his fore feet chained
together ; here is a landslip, and part of a wood or coppice _
is seen, with the trees growing thereon, removed from the
height it once occupied to the very brink of the river.
There is a fountain by the wayside, where the pure water
gushes up through the red sand at the bottom; and yonder
is an old saw-pit half filled and overhung with nettles, with
the rude frame-work yet standing above it, where the top-
sawyer followed his useful calling.

The gates of the fields have all manner of strange fast-
enings, and the stiles, over which you have to climb, are
of all possible constructions, some helping and others sadly
hindering you in your progress from one field to another.
In some meadows you find fairy rings of luxuriant grass in
which fungusses often grow, but the cause and the effect
you will hardly distinguish ; whether the fungusses have
formed the rings or the rings have given birth to the
fungusses you will find it difficult to decide.

Stone quarries, common as they are, are often better
worth the observation of the naturalist than a museum. In-
deed they are of themselves museums, complete cabinets
of natural curiosities. Then, beside the hedge or under
a bank, often lies a felled tree or log of timber, and if the
whim to turn it over should be indulged in, you will see a
strange collection of slugs and snails, caterpillars and ants,
beetles and spiders.

The old hawthorn-tree that stands in-the old green lane
is not passed by without a thought. We speculate*on its
age, and conjure up the old Gaffers and Gammers that in
days gone by conversed together at the spot, when it was in
flower. ‘The lane itself too is full of interest, being the old
208 RURAL PICKINGS.

packhorse-road of old times, and we think of the driver's
song :—
“ Far over the hill-top and through the deep dale,
Through the twisting glen and the wide-spread hollow,
Thrice-cheered by the sun-beam, the spring and the gale,
Our long string of horses all merrily follow :—
We reach the old hall and the old village inn,
. With its cumbrous sign on the old hinges swinging ;
Then trudge along cheerly our journey to win,
And stow in the warehouse the stores we are bringing :
And we merrily sing to our bell’s sweet chime—
Huzza !—huzza, for the baiting time !”

The old finger-post is an object of attraction; for though
it has ceased to assist and inspirit the weary traveller on
his way, its arms being broken and its inscriptions illegible,
it still, in its ruins, possesses a friendly appearance. ‘Time
has been when it did its duty, and this is not altogether
forgotten.

When turnings and windings our path incommode,
°Tis a source of enjoyment to know the right road.

The old hovel through whose broken roof the descending
rain finds its way with little impediment, is a relic of an‘
order of things passed or passing! Farms are tilled dif-
ferently to what they used to be. The old hovel has been
an old hovel the better part of the last twenty years.

The old common where geese yet cackle and stock up
the grass, and where donkeys browse on the thistles ; the old
ferry where the horse-boat lies moored, and the old ford where
farmers ride through the water in their way to and from the
neighbouring town are places of interest, and the river
itself is an object of especial regard.

*‘ The lapse of time and rivers is the same ;
Both speed their journey with a restless stream :
MOSSY BANKS AND GURGLING STREAMS. 209

The silent pace with which they glide away

No wealth can bribe ; no prayer persuade to stay :
Alike irrevocable both, when past,

And a wide ocean swallows both at last.

Though each resemble each, in every part,

A difference strikes, at length, the musing heart ;—
Streams never flow in vain ; where streams abound,
How laughs the land with various plenty crown’d !
But time, that should enrich the nobler mind,
Neglected, leaves a dreary waste behind.”

The old stone-cross, with its worn steps, figureless niches,
and broken top, arrests the eye of the stranger; and the
pedlar with his pack, the traveller with his bundle, and the
weary soldier and sailor make the spota resting place. The
old bridle-road is not without passengers, especially on
market-day.

“ O the bridle way, the bridle way
Is a merry path on the bridal day.”

People say, and with truth, that old customs are dying
away; but, oh, there are merry times in the country yet,
for though May-day is now rather chary of her garlands,
and Easter and Whitsuntide keep more within doors than
they did, even when the clubs meet, yet old Christmas
still survives, not so lusty as he was perhaps, but yet joyous
and merry. Other seasons there are that have their share
of mirth, but, of all merry-making times, Christmas time,
when the banquet is on the board, is the merriest. We
will not. enter into the revels of Christmas, but only just
observe that the family gatherings, the open-hearted hos-
pitality and liberal charity of this festive season ought not
to be lightly estimated. ‘Keep up,” says an author, “ all
those old seasonable observances which time has hallowed,
which create good feeling and fellowship, and which consist
of those innocent recreations, in which the young join as

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210 RURAL PICKINGS.

actors and the old enjoy as spectators. Decorate your house
with holly. Evergreens are nature’s promise of returning
summer and a fruitful season. The scarlet berries are pretty
and cheerful, and the prickly leaves are excellent weapons to
drive away melancholy and repining, which, with proper
management, will become extinct at Christmas time. Make
up your mind to do some little good every day. Farthings
make pence, pence shillings, shillings pounds, and pounds a
rich man. Small charities, in like manner, soon mount up,
and with care a good capital of happiness may be realised.
Pay off every debt of kindness that you are able, and call in,
by gentle remembrances, all that are owing to you. Be not
content with giving your blankets and coals to the poor.
Warm their hearts with kind language, as their bodies with
good clothing. Establish a court of equity in your heart,
wherein to pronounce sentence against yourself on any of
those domestic errors and crimes of which the law can take
no cognisance. Make your good sense the judge, and the
wholesome commandments of scripture your jury. Examine
and cross-examine the witnesses ; listen to the counsel for
the plaintiff (Mr. Feeling), and the counsel for the defendant
(Mr. Passion). You already know the evidence, and if the
jury return a verdict of guilty, lay a heavy fine on the delin-
quent, and bind him in heavy sureties to keep in future the
moral peace which he has violated.”

I have been to a country church, and nothing could
surpass the deep and unbroken repose of the village church-
yard. It yet lacked an hour of the accustomed time to
begin the services of the sabbath ; not yet had the solitary
bell, the only one that the tower of the church contained,
sounded through the neighbouring valley; not yet had the
first coming country rustic scraped his shoes and smoothed
down the hair of his forehead at the porch; nor even the
MOSSY BANKS AND GURGLING STREAMS. 211

aged clerk arrived, bearing the ponderous key to open the
studded door.

I stood on an old tombstone, amidst the silence and soli-
tariness of the place and looked around me. The church
was a simple and humble edifice. It had a low tower,
small windows, and white-washed walls.

The great hollow yew-tree to the south must have stood
there the better part of a thousand summers and winters.
The old mutilated cross, a remnant of popery, still
stood upright on its pedestal of time-worn stones ; a monu-
ment on one side bore the simple inscription, “Be ye
also ready,” and a tombstone on the other, that of ‘* Prepare
to meet thy God;” here was a brier-bound hillock, and
there the long grass and the nettle mingled together, un-
trodden and unheeded.

While the simple edifice, the aged yew, the decayed
cross, the rudely-sculptured stones, the long grass, and the
mouldering heaps of the uncommemorated dead met my
wandering eye, a quiet musing of the mind came over me.

Most of the hillocks near me were green, not having
been disturbed for a long time by the spade of the sexton ;
but one, a very small one, was evidently fresh ; not a brier
had been bound over it, nor even a turf been laid on the
heaped soil; the dew of the last night was the first that
had fallen on that infant’s grave.

I turned to the church, and peeped through the small
panes of one of the low-latticed windows. I looked at the
pulpit, and not only saw, but felt that it was empty.

The cawing of a rook or crow always renders the silence

of a lonely place more impressive ; it is like the striking of

the clock in the middle of the night, when you feel the

weight of the long and dreary hour that must be endured

before you will hear another sound. It was so while I
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212 RURAL PICKINGS.

stood by the little church ; for a crow, flying high, very
high above the tower, gave a solitary caw, and then winged
his way in the direction of the river.

And now, what was it that had drawn me to the place at
so early an hour, so long before the service of the Sabbath
began? You shall hear.

Not a month had passed since I had attended a funeral
in another parish, following the breathless clay of one that
was dear to me to the house appointed for all living. It
was the funeral of the minister of the little church I have
already described. One of his last sermons was preached
from the words, “ My flesh and my heart faileth ; but God
is the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever.”

Often had I seen him on the back of his black pony,
coming up the hill by the wood, on his way to the little
church ; and often had I entered the porch with him, after
a friendly greeting and the interchange of kindly inquiries,
to “worship and bow down,” and to ‘“‘ kneel before the Lord
our Maker.”

The first time that I attended the little church, he joined
me in the churchyard, half an hour before the service, and
pointed out to me the graves of such of his aged parishioners
as he had committed to the ground. The last time that I
attended, we, as usual, shook hands before we entered the
portal of the house of God.

It was when full of these remembrances, that I had
walked so early to the little church ; that I might recall to
my mind the more vividly the recollection of him, whose
friendly society I should no more enjoy. The past, the
present, and the future, came over me, as I lingered among
the tombs; and the uncertainty and fading nature of life
led me to reflection.

I thought on the aged minister of the Most High, whose
MOSSY BANKS AND GURGLING STREAMS. 213

funeral I had so lately attended. His death repeated the
admonition graven on the stone by the old cross, which I
have already noticed, “ Prepare to meet thy God.” He was
a man far advanced in years.

He passed a life of mingled cares,
Such is the lot of man below ;

Till age’s grey and silvery hairs
Were thinly scattered o’er his brow.

He lived, through many a grief to prove
That God could guard and guide him well ;
He died, to find that God is love,
And with him evermore to dwell.

Impressed with solemn thoughts, I lingered till the con-
gregation had assembled, and then entered the little church.
The service of the Sabbath was conducted in a simple and
devotional spirit. I heard a sermon from the text, “So
teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts
unto wisdom; ” and then walked slowly away from the place,
meditating on the words, “Lord, make me to know mine
end, and the measure of my days, what it is; that I may
know how frail Iam. Behold thou hast made my days as
a hand-breadth ; and mine age is as nothing before thee :
verily every man at his best state is altogether vanity.”

Qa
CHAPTER XXX.

a ee

RURAL PICTURES.

The homestead of Luke Holmes.—The ruined thatch, broken windows,
shattered cart, and empty rick-yard.—Old Dinger.—The Fifth of Novem-
ber bonfire.—Feeding the poultry—The last load.—The thrasher.—
The rainbow.—The woodman.—The rimy morniug.—The rising sun.—
Hunting scene.—Sunset.—Reflections.

LET us select a few sketches of varied character from the
picture gallery of rural life. The more unconnected they
are, the better will they be suited to our purpose.

One of the most melancholy pictures of rural life, is that
of the homestead of a small farmer who has struggled in
vain against calamity. I remember looking with a sigh on
the farm-house and farm-yard of Luke Holmes, when he
was said to be “going to the dogs,” and when all things
around him seemed already gone to wrack and ruin.

Luke was always a farmer on a small scale; but then his
little farm and homestead were his own. He worked hard
to win an honest bread, and to hold up his head among his
neighbours ; but it all would not do; he could not stand up
against losses and hard times.

“ His cattle died, and blighted was his corn,”
so that he was obliged to mortgage his little inheritance, and
from that moment Luke Holmes was never the man he
was before.

As I looked on his homestead in passing, I saw the ruined
RURAL PICTURES. Q15

thatch, and the broken panes of the windows, and the grass
springing up, here and there, in the fold-yard. These things
were not as they used to be, and they told a sorrowful tale.
A broken plough lay by the cowhouse, and a shattered cart |
and wheelbarrow were under the shed. The cart had but
one wheel, where the other was I could not tell. There
was neither wheat, barley, oats, nor beans in his rick-yard,
and the hay-stack was all gone within a few trusses. IT saw
no cattle about the premises. There must have been a pig
in the sty, for I heard him whining for food; and there
were a few long-legged pullets doing their best to scrape
up a living in the desolate fold-yard.

The wind was blowing about the top-knot and fetlocks of
Luke Holmes’s old horse. There he stood in the lane, with
his back against the gate, his mane tossing about over his
ears, and his tail driving in between his hind legs.

The trees in the hedge were bending to and fro, and the
crazy gate was shaking and creaking backwards and forwards,
yet poor old Dinger looked as if he neither heard the gate,
the trees, nor the wind. How he could give way to drowsi-
ness in such a blustering scene I cannot tell; but there he
stood, drooping his head, and resting his hind foot on the
top of his shoe; his eyes were more than half shut, and
his lower lip hung down as if it hardly belonged to his mouth.

Poor old Dinger had done some hard work in his time,
but his working days were almost all over. It was quite as
much as I could do to imagine him what he once was, a
frolicksome young colt, with a mane and tail like silk, and a
skin smooth, soft, and bright, the flank and shoulders shin-
ing like a polished boot. Poor old Dinger, like his master,
was evidently ‘‘ standing on his last legs.” “ Ah!” thought
I, musing as I walked away, “ Luke Holmes will be soon
looking out for a place of service.”
216 a RURAL PICKINGS.

“ The needy farmer when his crop is sold,
Sad and reluctant takes the tempting gold ;
And as each day still makes his little less,
Though nature’s smiles the growing plenty bless,
The prospect seems upon his eye to lower,
And vain the soft supplies of sun and shower ;
No more he views the scene with fond delight ;
Thick fill the ears, he sickens at the sight ;
And when ripe autumn brings her harvest on,
Languid he works, his spring of toil is gone ;
Sold are his golden hopes ; no more the field,
Though crown’d with sheaves, a master’s joy can yield ;
Abash’d he takes a hireling servant's place,
His wife and children share the deep disgrace ;
Till sunk at last, and spent his scanty store,
He stoops to glean the lands he farm’d before.”

It is the fifth of November, and the night is dark, wild,
and windy. A big bonfire is at its height, and a group of
happy boys are around it. Squibs and crackers are hissing,
bouncing, and bursting in all directions. Here a small
cannon is let off, and there a pistol. Now for it—a grand
volley is fired; a dozen fiery serpents are mounting upwards ;
a kick against the dry post that is burning makes it flare up
with ten thousand sparkles, and a loud huzza bursts from the
delighted throng. | .

How well do I remember
While I was yet a child,
The Fifth of bleak November,
When the wind was loud and wild.
The leaves were flying in the blast,
The night was dark and cold ;—
But many a year since then has past,
And I am growing old.

The farmer's daughter, the very picture of innocence and
simplicity, is feeding the poultry, throwing wide the barley
RURAL PICTURES. Q217

from her apron; cocks, hens, and chickens, ducks, geese,
guinea-fowl, and turkeys, are greedily devouring the scat-
tered grain, picking, pecking, snatching, and gabbling. ‘The
ducks, with their broad bills, now and then pack a feather
from the fowls; the geese in their turn make the ducks
waddle out of their reach; while the gander himself is put
to flight by the old turkey cock : fluttering and flying,
cackling, and screaming, there they are all together !

Oh, it is a pleasant thing to see the last load of wheat
carried, while the sun looks on with his brightest beam,
and the farmer and his people are all happy together. The
load is brought from the farthest field, where the gleaners
are busily employed; a green bough is stuck up in the
middle of it; laughing women and children are seated on
the ripe and ruddy sheaves. ‘The horses, Smiler, Black-
bird, Jewel, Whitefoot, and Ball, with a boy or two on each
of their backs, are half covered with garlands. On they
go, till they reach the farmer’s homestead, and then a man,
mounted on the high wall by the pigeon house, waves his
hat triumphantly above his head, and shouts out with a voice
louder than the town-crier,

“ We have ploughed ! we have sowed !
We have reaped! we have mowed !
We have brought home many a load :
Hip! Hip! Hip! harvest home ce.

The well-thatched wheat-stacks in the rick-yard speak
well for the harvest that is past. Pleasant is the sound of
the thumping flail, for the rain is pattering on the pent-
house, and the wind is raving round the barn. While other
people get wet to the skin, Old Robin Roughhead stands
up to his knees in clean, dry straw, every stroke of his flail
making the hard, ripe grain fly about him like hail.

Winter may be personified in a variety of ways, but I
218 RURAL PICKINGS.

hardly remember a more vivid representation of the season
than that afforded by a group of water-cress gatherers,
habited in cloaks of different colours, each carrying a bunch
of water-cresses, tied to the top of a stick. There was
a novelty in their appearance itself, and the severe frost,
the cold biting north-wind, and the heavy flakes of snow
that thickly fell upon them, imparted an additional interest,
which otherwise would never have been excited by them.
One of them bore in her arms a young child, wrapped up in
her cloak. The ditty they sung was both homely and
cheerless, and it was doled forth in a most melancholy

manner :
“ We're all frozed out!
We’re all frozed out !
We’re all entirely frozed out!
Pity poor water-cressers !”

There they stood at the gate, their bonnets plastered with
snow, and their cloaks flying about loosely in the wind,
screwing up their faces in all manner of forms at the cold,
and chaunting their dismal ditty very discordantly, every
now and then, seemingly more by accident than design,
harmonising one with another. “ We ‘re all frozed out,”
cried one; “We're all frozed out,” repeated another ;
“We're all entirely frozed out,” chimed in a third; and
then the whole group united their voices in the concluding
chorus, ‘ Pity poor water-cressers.”

The wintry tale told by the group was perfect in itself,
even without the assistance of their melancholy song. ‘The
falling flakes of snow sufficiently testified the inclemency of
the season; the frozen water-cressers brought the icy brook
in the full view of the spectator; the fluttering cloaks pro-
claimed the strength of the searching blast, and the red and
pinched-up faces of the singers confirmed the intelligence
RURAL PICTURES. 219

that snow-spreading, water-freezing, finger-tingling winter
was abroad.

The tempest has exhausted its rage, the retiring storm is
seen retreating o’er the distant hills, and the bright-coloured.
rainbow is spanning the sky, announcing, like an angel of
gladness, that the season of sunshine is at hand.

With glowing hues, the earth and heavens are crowned,
And light, and life, and joy are beaming round,

It is the fall of the leaf, and the woodman with his strong
arm and sharp axe is making the white and bright chips
fly around him. See! the tree is bending. Oh! with what
a murderous crash the giant oak has fallen to the ground!

The morning is chill, the grey mist hides the distant
prospect, and the trees, and shrubs, brambles, thorns, and
blades of grass are thickly covered with dew. Well might
a spectator exclaim, “ How poor are the pearls on the neck
of beauty, compared with the coruscations of this spreading
hawthorn! How dim the diamonds in a monarch’s crown,
in competition with the myriad gems that are sparkling on
these frosty straggling brambles! The most elaborate
workmanship, the costliest carvings of human hands, is a
coarse and blundering performance, in comparison with the
more than magical creations that are profusely flung on
every brake and brier. Every leaf is in itself a study for
the reflective mind ; every shrub a museum, and every bush
a cabinet of curiosities.”

It is early morn, and the eastern heavens are kindling
with burning light; radiant hues, and beams unbearable are
spreading abroad, for the all-glorious sun, the ambassador of
the King of kings, gorgeously clad in purple and gold is
careering over the hills, in his triumphal car, crying aloud
to half the world: “ Awake thou that sleepest! :
220 RURAL PICKINGS.

What dazzling streams, yon glowing skies unfold !
’ Rivers of light, and floods of molten gold !

Hark! the clamour of the deep-mouthed dogs, and the
winding of the huntsman’s horn come up from the valley,
now dying away, and now bursting out afresh, echoed by the
distant hills. Here comes the hard-run hare, her body
dappled with mud, and her eyes starting from her head, so
hotly is she pursued. Poor puss! thy hours are numbered.
No more shalt thou banquet on the young corn, or squat in
thy ferny form—thy merciless pursuers are upon thee! The
hedges are crashed, the gates are overtopped, and reeking
horses and open-mouthed dogs, and exulting hunters are
suddenly assembled—the barking of the beagles, the cheers,
halloos, and echoes, are strangely mingled.

The deafening din the valley fills,
And mounts amid the rocks and hills :
But hills and rocks refuse the strain,
And rudely fling it back again.

It is evening, the sun is setting in the western skies, and
a pleasurable pensiveness is stealing over the spirit. The
influence of rural scenery is felt, and calmness, and quietude,
and sober thought are absorbing the mind. “ Evening,”
says Dr. Drake, “‘ when the busy scenes of our existence are
withdrawn, when the sun descending leaves the world to
silence, and to the soothing influence of twilight, has been
ever a favourite portion of the day with the wise and good
of all nations. There appears to be shed over the universal
face of nature, at this period, a calmness and tranquillity, a
peace and sanctity, as it were, which almost insensibly steals
into the breast of man, and disposes him to solitude and
meditation. He naturally compares the decline of light
and animation with that which attaches to the lot of humanity ;
RURAL PICTURES. Q2Q1

and the evening of the day and the evening of life become
closely assimilated in his mind.

“Tt is an association from which, where vice and guilt
have not hardened the heart, the most beneficial result has
been ever experienced. It is one which, while it forcibly
suggests to us the transient tenure of our being here, teaches
us at the same time, how we may best prepare for that
which awaits us hereafter. The sun is descending, but
descending after a course of beneficence and utility, in
dignity and glory, whilst all around him, as he sinks, breathes
one diffusive air of blessedness and repose. It is a scene
which marshals us the way we ought to go; it tells us, that
after having passed the fervour and the vigour of our existence,
the morning and the noon of our appointed pilgrimage, thus
should the evening of our days set in, mild, yet generous in
their close, with every earthly ardour softened or subdued,
and with the loveliest hues of heaven just mingling in their
farewell light.

“Tt is a scene, moreover, which almost instinctively re-
minds us of another world; the one we are yet inhabiting is
gradually receding from our view; the shades of night are
beginning to gather round our heads; we feel forsaken and
alone, whilst the blessed luminary, now parting from us, and
yet burning with such ineffable majesty and beauty, seems
about to travel into regions of space, interminable happiness
and splendour. We follow him with a pensive and a wistful
eye, and, in the vales of glory which appear to open round
his setting beams, we behold mansions of everlasting peace,
seats of ever-during delight. It is then that our thoughts
are carried forward to a Being infinitely good and great, the
God and Father of us all, who, distant though he seem to
be, and immeasurable, beyond the power of our faculties to
comprehend, we yet know is about our path, and about our
222 RURAL PICKINGS.

bed, and careth for us all; who has prepared for those who
- Jove him scenes of unutterakle joy, scenes to which, while
rejoicing in the brightness of his presence, the effulgence
we have faintly attempted to describe shall be but as the °
glimmering of a distant star.”

Such thoughts as these are sweetly soothing and sustain-
ing. They are in harmony with rural influences ; they lead
us to look inward and upward, and dispose us gratefully to turn
to the best account, the peaceful, as well as the glowing scenes
of creation. Pleasant and dear, and delightful as it is to
gaze on rising and setting suns, on foliage and fields, and
woods and waters, man has a higher destination; onwards
are his hopes, and upwards should be his desires. Happy
is he whose thankfulness to the great Giver of good is called
forth by rural scenery, and still happier they who in culling
the green leaves and fresh flowerets of time, fail not to weave
a garland for eternity.

THE END.

LONDON :
BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.

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