Citation
The power of kindness

Material Information

Title:
The power of kindness a story for the young
Creator:
Ide, George B ( George Barton ), 1804-1872
Thomas Nelson & Sons
Place of Publication:
London ;
Edinburgh
Publisher:
T. Nelson and Sons
Manufacturer:
T. Nelson and Sons
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
127, 16 p. : ; 18 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Christian life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Kindness -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Children -- Death -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Publishers' catalogues -- 1853 ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1853
Genre:
Publishers' catalogues ( rbgenr )
novel ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
England -- London
Scotland -- Edinburgh
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
Publisher's catalogue follows text.
General Note:
Added engraved t.p.
Statement of Responsibility:
by the Rev. George B. Ide.

Record Information

Source Institution:
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:
026821926 ( ALEPH )
45964436 ( OCLC )
ALH2371 ( NOTIS )

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Full Text




a Ly ae
orm a cae i .
wore :
Wace FEES~

—















THE

Powér or Rinnness.

Q Stary for the Young.



THE ASSAUET.
Yon ran strike mo if you ike, Dut Keane ateice back. Tonn’t help you 13
abn wrong, but TL pot do wrong myscie—Pagge Bt. 4



met 235



T. NELSON AND SONS, LONDON AND EDINBURGH.



THE

POWER OF KINDNESS.

A Story for the Young.

BY THE REY. GEORGE B. IDE, D.D.



LONDON: 5
T. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW:
AND EDINBURGH.
ae a ee





INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

‘Tre reader of this little Book may wish to know
whether the incidents it describes had an actual oceur-
renee. To such an inquiry the writer would reply,
that the entire narrative is founded on fact. Every
event—every personage—is real. All the individuals
introduced into these pages were known to the writer
in his earlier years; and most of the circumstances
took place under his own observation. The only point
in which the strict fidelity of history has been departed
from is, that, in a few instances, persons and events have
‘been brought inte a closer connection as to time and
place than existed in reality. The names of the actors
in the story, as well as of the-scene in which it is laid,
are of course fictitious. In all other respects, the
book is literally true. Should it please God to make
it an instrament of good to any into whose hands it
may come, the slight Ixboar devoted to its preparation
will be more than rewarded.



CONTENTS.

enaper § Page.
1. The Snaw-Birds, .. .

IT. A Pleasant Visiter,
JIT. Good for Evil

IV. The Victory,
‘V. The Sunday-School,











aL
VI. A Parable Expounded, as
VI. Progress in Reform, c 45
‘VIII. The Young Tempters, - “9
XX. The Melon-Patch, 3T
X. The Assault, 7 os
XI. Lost in the Mountains, 70
XII. The Search, 7
XIII. Camping Ont, 83,
XIV. Founa, , 89
XV. The Buried Seed Coming Up, 7
XVL The Plants Set, =. “107



XVIL The Early Ripe Early Gathered,
XVIIL The Living for the Dead,

m
a 8







THE POWER OF KINDNESS.



CHAPTER I 7
THE sNOW-BIRDS.

In a pretty sequestered village, known by the namo of
Green Hollow, lived little Clara Morton, the only child
of a pious widow lady, in easy cireumstances. Their dwell-
ing was a small, but very pretty cottage, standing back a
short distance from the road-side, embowored in shrubbery,
and shaded by overhanging trees. A lawn of closely-shaven
grass, shut in by. neat white paling, spread its green carpet
in front of the house ; while in the rear, and on either side,
a trim garden was laid out, filled with roses, pinks, violets,
and other sweet-scented flowers. The quict of this retired
abodo was disturbed by no noise, save the distant hum of
the village mill; the occasional shout of a waggoner, as his
heavy team trundled by; or the tinkling of the cow-bell, as
the faithful kine returned slowly homeward at ovening.
Here, from her infancy, Clara had dwelt in happiness.
Never had care troubled the breast of the child. All the
day long, sho was as‘ blithe as a lark, and as bright asa,
daisy. Every afternoon, when her school-tasks were done,
amdthe weather permitted, she busied herself with her
flower-beds ; and,assisted by old Peter the gardener, taught



8 ‘HE SNOW-BIRDS.

many a drooping plant to look up with a face almost as
smiling as her own. _

‘The Sabbath brought with it a different employment ; but
one in which she found equal, if not greater delight. On
that holy day, attended by her mother, she went to the
Bunday-school and to the house of God, to listen to the
‘Word of Hin who made this beautiful world, and who, in
the riches of his mercy, gave his only begotten Son to
be the Saviour of sinners. The truths which she there
learned often came afresh to her mind when sho resumed
hher week-day occupations ; and, while training some creep-
ing jessamine, or watching the unfolding of some blush-
ing rose-bud, she would think of that great Being who
clothes the lily, and gives to cach flower its bloom and
fragrance.

‘Thus pleasantly she spent the summer between her books
and her garden, with a little ramble now and then in the
neighbouring wood, to hear the wild-birds sing their hymn
‘of praise to God. But when the winter set in, her amuse-
ments were more within doors; for her health was delicate,
and the watchful mother guarded against any exposure to
the inclemoncy of the season.

It was for this reason that Clara remained in the cottage
one day, looking from the parlour window on the scene
without. Snow had been falling all tho morring, and now
covered the ground with a soft, white fleece. The appear-
ance of nature at that moment was certainly not very pre-
possessing ; nor yet was it altogether dreary. So Clara
thought, as she stood, half wishing the snow would go
away, notwithstanding she had observed it with pleasure
when it first began to come down, like a cloud of feathers,
from the sky. Presently her eye full upon a flock of birds
that just thon had flown over the fonce; and, lighting on
the leafless twigs of her favourite rose-bush, were picking
their feathers, and chirping merrily.

“Cheep! cheep !” trilled the little warblers, in chorus.

“mother! cried Clara, clapping her hands, and ad-
dressing Mrs. Morton, who was seated by the fire, ongaged







THE SNOW-BIRDS. 9

in sowing ; “see what a lot of pretty birds thero aro in the
garden.” a pee

“Yes, Clara,” said Mrs. Morton, without looking up,
“ they are birds that always come in the winter.”

“And will they stay, mother? Will they not fly away
when it gets colder?”

“I suppose they will. » Certainly they will do so when
they can no longer find anything to eat.”

Clara turned again to the window, and watched the birds
in silence. Soon they gathered together, and, flitting down
‘upon the snow, hopped hither and thither, casting quick
glances on every side ; until, disturbed by some noise, they
rose from the ground, and flew swiftly away. All at once,
anew idea occurred to Clara, After thinking it over some
minutes, she inquired of her mother—

“Why do all the other little birds go off as soon as sum-
mer is over? Ishould think they might stay here as well
as these snow-birds 1”

“Most of the birds you see in summer are migratory ;
that is, they leave for a warmer climate on the approach of
winter, because they are not sufficiently hardy to endure
the severe weather, and because they cannot then obtain
their accustomed food. Some, however, especially a species
of swallow, are supposed to dig themselves holes in banks
of earth, where they lie very warm and comfortable all
winter; and when the chilling winds blow, and the sharp
frost freezes up the streams, and the thick snow covers the
ground, they doze away. in their snug little beds, and do not
feel itatall. Others, again, like the robin, are fitted, by their
structure and habits, to sustain a greater degroo of cold ;
and are thus able to subsist upon berries and seeds that last
late in the year. The robin in particular, it is said, has much
larger pupils than other birds ; and by its sharp sight, can
find insects on which to feed, not only when the ground is
frozen, but even in the dark.”

“ How do tho birds that go away know when itis time to

9,-and when to come back again?" And who tells the others
to etay ner





ie



10 THE sNow-nIRDS.

* God, my dear,
and when to do it.”

“Does God talk'to the birds, mother?”

“Yes, my child. Do you not remember what the Bible
teaches about God's care of the birds, and how he superin-
tends and guides all their motions?”

“Indeed I do, mother. Christ said, in his sermon on the
monnt, ‘ Behold the fowls of the ajr; for they sow not, nei-
ther do they reap, nor gather into barris; yet your heavenly
Father feedeth them. At another time, he said to his dis-
ciples, < Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one
of them shall not fall on the ground without, your Father,
And then there is that beautiful passage in Jeremiah, * Yea,
the stork in the heaven knoweth her appointed times; and
the turtle, and the crane, and the swallow, observe the time
of their coming.’ But how do they know this? Does God
tell them? And can they understand him, mother!”

“Yes, Clara. The same good Being that made the tower-
ing oak, made also the birds that skip and sing so swoctly
among its branches. He has adapted their natures to the
various conditions and circumstances of their existence;
and, by means of certain instincts which he has implanted
within them, he teaches them to act in accordance with
their respective characters and wants. These instincts are
his voice ; and he has so constituted them, that they know
and comprehend his meaning at once.”

«But, mother, do they not sometimes disobey him ?”

“No, never. Tho birds are not like many wicked chil-
dren, who refuse to do what God tells them. Man, the most
favoured creature in this world, is the only one who ever
disregards the authority of his Maker. Everything else
yields a ready submission to him. The winds hearken to
his voice, and obey his word. The_scasons change, the sun
rises and sets, clouds come and go, at his bidding. Beasts,
fishes, and fowls, insects and creeping things, all do his
.Will, and fulfil their several ends in harmony with the laws
which he has ordained. But men, though endowed with
reason and conscience, blessed with a direct revelation from



0 created them, tells each what to do,





A PLEASANT VISITER. n

heaven, and destined to live for ever—mon, fallen and de-
praved, ungratefully rebel against their Creator, and would
continue to rebel, without one solitary exception, were it
not for the atoning and reclaiming grace of Christ provided
in the Gospel. Hence God uptraids them for their conduct,
as contrasted with that of irrational creatures; and calls
‘upon all naturo, animate and inanimate, to unite in con-
demning their disobedience. ‘Hear, O heavens, and give
ear, O eartif; for the Lord hath spoken. I have nourished
and brought up children, and they have rebelled against
me. The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master’s
crib; but Israel doth not know, my people doth not con-
sider” And, at the close of the passage which you recited,
about the stork, and the turtle, and the swallow, observ-
ing the times appointed them, he adds: ‘But my people.
know not the judgment of the Lord” Remember, Clara,
that, whenever you transgress God’s law by ill temper, for-
getfulncss of his benefits, or the commission of any sin, the
pretty little birds you love so much are witnesses against
you; for they never disobey him.”

CHAPTER It.
A PLEASANT VISITER.

Crana had listened with doop interest to tho explanation
and advice given by her mother in the preceding chapter.
And now, as the voice which she loved so well ceased to
speak, she stood several minutes in the samo spot, thinking
very pleasantly how God talked to the birds, and how they
always did what he told them ; how, when winter came, the
thrush, and blue-bird, with other tribes of their musical
brethren and sisters, went off, at His command, on a sing-
ing excursion to the sunny south ; while the robin, obedient
to the same Divine Teacher, lingéred around tho fields and



12 A PREASANT VISITER. 3
houses which they had frequented in summer. As there
thoughts wore passing through her mind, she happened to
glance her eye again to the window, when, with a scream of
delight, she exclaimed—

«Just look there! If there is not a robin now on the
window. See, mother!”

Mrs. Morton looked up from her work, and saw that a
robin was indeed standing on the window-sill, and pecking
at the glass as if knocking for admittance. Clara fairly
danced with joy at the sight.

“ Mother,” she cried, “may I notlet him in? he’s so cold,
I know.” a

“I think he will fly away before you can open the case-
ment. You may take some cake and throw it ont upon the
ground. Hoe will pick up the crumbs, if you do not scare,
him?

Clara ran to the closet, and taking a piece of cake, has-
tened back to the window. As she approached, however,
the robin Ieaped off his perch, and settled down upon the
snow. Clara lifted the sash gently, and breaking the cake,
scattered it at his feet. After a few moments spent seem-
ingly in doubt, whether there was not somo hidden guile in
the bounty so liberally proffered, the robin concluded to
accept it, and drawing nearer, and fluttering his wings, as
if to say, “Who's afraid?” betook himself eagerly to his
repast. While Master Redbreast was thus comfortably
engaged, a stone came skipping over the fence, and grazing
his feathers, forced him to a hasty retreat. Clara raised her
hhead to ascertain whence tho missile had been thrown, and
looking into the road, perecived a rough, razged boy, named
Frank Haynes, with another stone in his hand, about to re-
peat his malicious act. As soon as the boy saw that he was
detected, he lowered his uplifted arm, and began to sneak
back towards a lean-looking donkey from which he had
just dismounted.

“Naughty Frank!” cried Clara indignantly. “What do
you mean? Why do you throw stones at my bird?”

“Is as much mine as yours,” replied Frank, preparing



A YLEASANT VISITER. 13

to heave another pebble at the inoffensive robin, which had.
lighted on the fence, and was spreading its wings in alarm.

“Let it alone, you wicked boy, or I will call mother,”
shriekod Clara in ‘consternation, lest the bird should bo hit.
Mrs. Morton now came to the window, and bade the boy
desist. He obeyed reluctantly, and picking up a stick, be-
laboured the poor donkey’s sides, as if the act
a relief for his disappointment. On secing this, Mrs. Mor-
ton, who was about retiring from the window, called to him
to stop.

« Frank,” sho said, “what has the animal dono that you
beat himsot Have youno more pity for a poor brate than
to strike him at every step?”

“I’m goin’ to the mill,” shouted the boy, “and Neddy
won’t budge unless he’s licked.”

«0 yes, he will, if you treat him kindly”

“Beg pardon, ma’am, but I know better. Jist you try
him once,” surlily replied the boy. “ Get up, Neddy, I say,”
he continued, fetching the donkey another tremendous
whack, which caused the poor beast to cringe with pain.

‘Mrs. Morton attempted to expostulate further with the
boy; but he turned a deaf ear to her entreaties, and,
whipping the donkey at every step, passed out of sight; not,
however, without stopping to throw a parting stone at the
robin. At this last attack, the frightened bird flew precipi-
tately into an adjoining orchard. Poor Clafa could not re-
frain from weeping. To be deprived of such a pet, and that
too at the very moment when it was about to receive food
from her hand, seemed to her eruel in the extreme. Sho
sat down by her mother, and bitterly upbraided the causo
of her gricf.

“Mother, what a good-for-nothing fellow that Frank
Haynes is!) Won't you send Péter out to give him a good
whipping, tho noxt time he dares to throw stones”

«No, my dear. Why should I?” replied her mother.
“To punish him in order to gratify a feoling of revenge,
‘would bo contrary to the law of kindness and mercy which
our Saviour has enjoined. He commands us to love our







14 A PLEASANT VISITER.

enemies; to bless them that curse us; to do good to them
that hate us, and to pray for them that despitefully uso us;
that we may be tho children of our Father which is in hea-
ven; for He maketh His sun to rise on the evil and on the
good,and sendetfi¥ain onthe justand on the unjust. The best
way to deal with offenders like Frank, is to exercise towards
them a spirit of mildness and forbearance. Severity would
only make him worse. You must recollect that he has had
no one to teach him what is right. His mother is very
poor, and though doubtless well-meaning, is little qualified
to bring up her son in a proper way. She allows him to do
just what he pleases, until he makes her angry, and then
she treats him with great harshness. He has been beaten
and scolded all his life, and has, in consequence, become
very rude and unfecling. Let us adopt a new method with
him. ‘You feel aggrieved because he has driven away your
bird, and deprived you of an innocent pleasure. Very well.
I will show you anoble revenge. You shall punish him by
making him ashamed of his conduct, and endeavouring to
effect his reformation. Wo will watch for an opportunity
to do him a kindness ; and then, if his mind is at all soft-
ened by it, you shall seize the favourable moment to per-
suade him to attend the Sunday-school, and thus bring
him under the influenco of that religious instruction which
he so greatly needs. It may be that God’s blessing will
prosper the effort, and that you will yet have the happiness
of seeing Frank a good and pious boy. Will you try, my
dear?”

“Yes, mother; but I can’t forgive him for driving off the
poor robin so cruelly.”

“Ah, but you must. Do you not remember what our
Lord said? ‘If ye forgive men their trespasses, your hea-
venly Father will also forgive you;.but if ye forgive not
men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your
trespasses? God has had more to bear from us than wo
can ever have from our fellow-crentures ; and if we are not
willing to forgive them, how can we hopo that He will for-
give ust Our Saviour commands us to forgive those who







A PLEASANT VISITER. 15

injure us; and he has added a touching emphasis to this
command by His own example ; for even when hanging on
the cross, He forgave his murderers, and prayed his Father
to forgive thom. Bosides, so long as we refuse to forgive
any one, we must continue to regard him with ill-will and,
hatred ; and we cannot do good to a person towards whom.
we feel unkindly. Yon must, therefore, forgive Frank as
the very first step in your ondcavours to make him abetter
boy.” : .

“Well, mother, I forgive him with all my heart. But O,
how sorry I am tho pretty robin is gone!” And at this
thought her grief broke ont afresh.

“Never fear, Clara,” said Mrs. Morton soothingly. “Your
bird is not so easily frightened. He will be sure to come
back after those crumbs, if he is not there already.”

* Yes, mother,he is!” shouted Clara, who had gone tothe
window to sec. “'Thore he comes; now he's on the fence 5
now down he hops; and, I do declare, he is eating the cake
again. O how glad Tam!”

‘And Clara ran to get her bonnet and shawl, and hurrying
out into the garden, watched Master Robin very patiently ;
until, having gobbled down overy morsel of the cake, he
looked up queerly into her face, and giving a loud chirp
that said as plainly as a robin could say it, “Thank ye,”
walked off quite contented and happy.

This was the beginning of a very pleasing intimacy
between Clara and the robin. Every day he would come
into the gardon for his meal; and Clara took great delight
in feeding him, and watching his motions while he ate. If
at any time she did not happen to see him when he paid his
visits, he would fly up to the window, and rap against the
pane with his bill, as if to let her know he thought dinner
ought-to be ready. When mid-winter arrived, and deep
snow lay on the earth, he disappeared for a whilo, thinking
it best, probably, either to hide himself from the biting
cold in some cozy retreat, or to spend a few weeks among
his cousins in the south. But with the first blush of spring
he came back again, attonded by a lovely:mate whom he



16 A PLEASANT VISITER.

had picked up in his travels. They built their nest in an
apple tree, that stood at a short distance from the house ;
and Clara often went out to see them while they were em-
ployed in constructing it. She got Peter to make hor a
little ladder, and set it against the tree, so that she could
climb up, and inspect_the work. It afforded her much
amusement as well as wonder, to observe what nice carpen-
ters the robins were ; with what skill they managed their
materials; how dexterously they adjusted them to their
places, fastening them together with mortar ; covering the
inside with a smooth coat of plaster; and giving to the
whole dwelling the most perfect symmetry and proportion.
She thought. it the finest bird-house that ever was made.
‘When the nest was completed, on going to visit it one day,
she found two little eggs lying in its bottom. Her rapture
was unbounded. They were so beautifully enamelled, and
were sprinkled all over with such soft and delicate hues,
that it seemed to her no sea-shell could match their loveli-
ness. She did not dare to take them up, or even touch them,
lest they might break; but for a long time she stood looking
at their tiny forms and variegated colours, jn a kind of
ecstacy. In a few weeks a conple of young birds wero
hatched from the eggs; and then Clara’s delight was at the
highest, Every day she would bring them erumbs of cake
and other tit-bits ; and how happy it made her to see them
open their months, and greedily devour the food which she
gave them, How astonished she was, too, to find that such
little things had such big mouths, and could open them so
wide! During all these visits, sho never disturbed the old
birds, or interfered with any of their domestic arrangements.
‘They had become so accustomed to her presence, and soemed.
to have such confidence in her good intentions, that they
‘were never uneasy at her approach, or showed the least fear
that she would injure or carry off their young.



Goon ror EVIL. ‘ WwW

CHAPTER IT.
Goop For zvrr.

From the time when Frank Haynes committed the cruel
act related in the last chapter, several months elapsed before
Clara saw him again, or had any opportunity of prosecuting
her benevolent intentions in reference to his improvement.
The winter was vory severo, and Mrs. Morton and her
daughter, being both in feeble health, were compelled to
yemain mostly at ‘home; while Frank found scope for his
mischievous propensitics in other directions. But when the
deep snows had melted away, and the earth had again put
on its robe of green, and soft breezes heralded the coming
summer, Clara began to meditate earnestly on her plan of
trying to induce Frank to become o pupil in the Sunday
school, and to wish that the favourable moment for under.
taking it, of which her mother had spoken, might occur.
Sho knew well, that unless she could in some way gain an
influence over -him, he would repel all her efforts. She
know that sevoral teachers had attempted in vain to prevail
on him to join the school. She knew, too, that he never
entered the house of God, but spent the Sabbath in fishing,
boating, or roaming through the woods and fields. Her
pitying heart was filled with sorrow as she thought how
wicked he was, and how much more wicked he wonld
become, if he coritinued his present course ; and she resolved
todo her utmost to reclaim him, whenever circumstances
should arise that gave the least promise of success. Tho
long desired occasion came at length.

On a bright morning in May, while Clara was reading to
her-mother one of the little books from the Sunday-school
library, old Peter thrast his head in at the parlour door,
looking asif ke had something very important to communi-
cata.

“What is the matter, Peter 1” said Mrs. Morton quietly.

2 om







18 GOOD FOR EVIL,

Peter was an Irishman, and spoke with an accent strongly
redolent of the Green Isle.

“Beg pardon, ma’am,” he answered, bowing and scraping
with his foot ; “but here's a peck 0” trouble. ‘That rascally
Frank Haynes got into the barn last night to steal eggs.
An’ more an’ that, he tumbled through the mow, an’ kilt
tho pig intirely. An’ more an’ that, he spraint his ankle,
80 he couldn’t move till somebody helped him off. Really,
ma'am, he-ought to go to. jail, the thafe that he is. Things
can’t go on 60, or we shan’t be safo in the house o” nightsyat
all, at all, ma’am.”

“Well, Peter, I will attend to it; you may withdraw.”
‘When the gardener had retired, Mrs. Morton laid down her
sewing, and turning to Clara, said— “

“Now, my daughter, is the time to put in practice our
scheme for reforming this malicious boy. We will return
him good for evil. We will rolieve the very sufferings he
has brought on himself in his attompt to injure us, and show.
him, by vur forbearance and kindness, that we do not hate
or despise him for his misdeeds, but pity his folly, and seak
only to promote his welfare. Such treatment, if he is not

_utterly hardened, must awaken compunction, and may lead
to better things. Come, we will pay the unruly lad a
visit.”

Clara was delighted. A walk in the sweet sunshine
across the green meadows, and down shady lanes, where
wild flowers grew, and sparkling brooks laughed and babbled
on their merry way, would be very pleasant of itself ; but
to go on such a kind purpose—to endeavsitr, by words and
deeds of love, to draw Frank from his vicious habits,
dispose him to listen to the teachings of God's holy book
that would be happiness indeed. Full of this benevolent
design, she ran to her little chamber to prepare herself for
the excursion. In the meantime, Mra. Morton tooka bagkot
and filled it with substantial provisians, together with a few
‘delicacies, and a bottle containing. a. healing lotion. for
Frank's foot. Clara being now ready, and a servant having
been called to carry the basket, they soon set out, and taking





Goo FoR EVIE. 19

a foot-path that led by a shorter course through the fields,
proceeded on their orrand of mercy.

‘The mother of Frank was a poor widow who dwolt in a
rude habitation about half a mile from Mrs. Morton’s resi-
dence. She rented a small piece of land, and with the help
of its scanty produce, and by taking in washing, strove to
keep want from her door. Frank -was hor only child, and
being a well-grown Ind in, his fifteenth year, might have
been of much assistance to her in gaining a livelihoods But
inBtead of this, he did little besides giving her trouble by
his disobedience, idleness, and wickedness, She had brought
‘him up very badly. Though frugal and hard-working, she
Jacked the essential requisites for exerting a right influence
over him. She was uneducated and ignorant. She was also
very unequal in her conduct towards him; at one time
treating him with foolish indulgence, humoring his caprices,
‘and even laughing at his mischievous pranks, and, at
‘ghother, chiding and beating him with excessive seve

ty Worse than all, she was an utter stranger to-religion.
Under all the pressuro of hier misfortunes, and in the
‘sorrows of her lonely and unprotected state, she had never
looked to Him who is “a Father of the fatherless, and a
Jutige of the widow, in his holy habitation.” Never had she
sought counsel from the Bible, or support and comfort in
prayer; She lived in habitual neglect of all the appointed:
means of Christian instruction. She was too poor, sho
thought, to go to church. It might be well enough for
‘those in casy circumstances, or who had fine dresses to show
off; but it was no placo for her who had to toil night and
Gay, and could ndt afford the expense of a decent appear-
ance. Thus she shut herself out from the light and joy of
the gospel.

The pernicious effects of this disregard of spiritual things
were not confined to herself, but were still more visible in
the character of her son. Naturally of a wild and intract-
able disposition, and growing up without the restraints of
wholesome discipline and example, he soon learned to sot
her authority at defiance. She was not insensible to his





20 Goon vor EVIE.

delinquencics, and often sighed and grieved over thems
but she wanted the moral force effectually to control him.
His froward and lawless temper oceasioned her constant
anxiety; and many were the complaints, and even harsh
words, which she was compelled to hear from the neigh-
bouring farmers on account of his deprodations upon their
property. Latterly, through the ‘ceasoless grinding of
poverty, and the perpetual irritation caused by hor son’s
behaviour, her spirits had been much depressed; and she
was beginning’ to lose the energy with which she had onée
borne up against her hard lot. ‘She relaxed her efforts,
and, in a kind of sullen despair, allowed matters to take
their course. Her dwelling looked less tidy ; the little
ficld was less carefully tilled; and everything wore tho
aspect of neglect and disrepair.

Such was the appearance of the widow’s premises, as Mrs,
Morton and Clara approached. Tho house stood at the ond
ofa lane that wound away from the main road. Its situa-
tion was beautiful, commanding a distant view of the river,
and surrounded by rich valleys and green hill-sides, with
blue mountains looming in the background. But its own
dilapidated condition made it seem an unsightly blot in a
landscape whero all else was so fair. The windows were
loose and shattered, many of the panes broken, and their
places supplied by old hats and rags. Heaps of rabbish lay
scattered on every side. Tho fences were down, and the
small patch of ground which they were meant to inclose,
needed cultivation sadly. A few fowls, and a half-starved
pig, were running at large in the yard and in the garden,
Even Neddy, the donkey, rambled about without a halte®,
or stood before the door ‘basking in the sun, and whisking
the flies from his lank sides.

As the visiters entered this desolate abode, the widow
met them with a respectful greeting, and presenting chairs,
begged thenrto be seated. Frank, who had so lamed him!
self by his fall as to be unable to stand, was lying on a low
bed, and amusing his idle moments by pinching the tail of
‘a cat, which mewed piteously, and in vain struggled to



Goon FoR EVIL. a

cacape from his grasp. When he saw who had come, he
changed colour, and tuming his face ta the wall, pretended
to sleep. Mrs. Morton smiled as she noticed this move-
ment; but taking a seat, acted and spoke as if she had not
observed his confusion.

“Mrs. Haynes,” sho said, addressing the widow in a
pleasant tone, “I have heard that you were doing rather
poorly at present; and I thought I would call and see if I
could assist you in any way. Frank is sick, too, is he
not?”

“0, ma’am, you are very kind to visit a poor person like
me, and I’m much obliged to you for it,” replied the widow.
“T aint getting on so well as I might, if I wasn’t sick half
the time, and hardly able to creep about. Frank's hurt his
foot somehow, so I have all the work to do, and it comes
very hard on me, I hope you'll excuse the house, secing
I've been so down and discouraged-like; I haven't had the
‘heart to rid it up as it ought to be.”

Frank should help you as much as possible,” said Mrs.
Morton. “How did he hurt his foot!”

“TI don’t know, ma’am. He says he fell down and turned
on his ankle.

“Frank is a bad boy, I am afraid. Iam very sorry to say
that I understand he réteived his injury while attempting to
xob my hen-roost.”

“0, ma’am! I was afraid it was something wrong,” ex-
claimed the widow. “And did ho really mean to rob you
who are so good a lady? I hope you won’t be severe with
him. He shan’t do so again, I promise you,” she continued,
‘ringing her hands.

“No, I did not come. to accuse him, or to have him
punished ; but to try to persuade him to mend his ways,
and to tell him how very wrong such conduct is, and how
certainly it will make him miscrable both here and hereafter,
if he perseveres in i

During this conversation, Frank had kept his recumbent
posture, quivering all over, and convulsed with opposite
and conflicting feelings. ‘The kindness of Mrs, Morton in










Goop For Evin.



comting to visit his mother, the sympathy she had expressed,
and the-geritle manner in which she had spoken of his own
fault, were almost too much even for his stubborn nature
to bear. Ho longed to confess the truth, and ask her for-
giveness, But pride and obstinacy still held him back.
‘These passions, which had ruled him so long, struggled with
thé better thoughts that began to stir within him, and for
the present retained their wonted mastery. Ho resolved
not to submit to the shame of making such an acknowledg-
ment. He would deny tho charge, and bravely face it down.
Actuated by this determination, he sat up in the bed, and
striving hard to put on an air of offended innocence, said, in
a tone that he meant to be very bold—

“I didn’t do it, ma’am; who told you I did?”

“Peter, the gardener, informed me,’ answered Mrs.
Morton; “and I cortainly supposed it to be true. But if he
was mistaken, and you really are not guilty, I am very sorry
I mentioned the subject at all. Never mind, Frank; keep
quiet, and try to get well, and I will do all I can to make
you and your mother comfortable.”

Frank lay down again; but he was very ill at ease. His
conscience goaded him sorely. It was bad enough, he
thought, to injure the property of so generous person ; but
to deceive her, to impose on her frank and unsuspecting
disposition by a downright falschood—that was worse yet,
“0,” said he to himself, “Iam a. bad boy, that’s a fact!”
Not that he was particularly sensitive to the sin of lying
for this was one of his most common sins, and ordinarily he
could swallow 2 lie as smoothly as if it were a cherry. But
the circumstances in which he had now uttered an untrath,
made the crime appear terrible to him; and agitated by the
stings of remorse, he rolled and tossed as though the straw
mattress beneath him were of red hot iron.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Morton, having ordered the servant to
bring in the basket, began to take out its contents, and
present them to the widow. Frank watched her as she pro-
ceeded. First, a couple of pies, and several cups of custard
and jelly, made their appearance. “They look good; but I











Goop For Evie. 23

don't desarve ’em, I oughtn’t to touch ’em,” thought Frank.
‘Then a large boiled ham was brought forth. “She don't
know what a lying villain she’s goin’ to feed,” quoth Frank.
Next camo a couple of fowls. “Fowls! fowls! ah, Frank,
can you stand that? And thon, as a dozen of fresh eggs
were produced and laid carefully on the table, Frank could
look no longer, but turning, violently over on the other side,
muttered to himself, “Eggs! O dear! dear! I wanted to
steal her eggs, and she gives ’em to me; I can’t eat’em,
they'd choke me.”

During the wholo interview thus far, Clara had sat and
listened very quiotly. But now, perceiving how restless
Frank was, and what discomfort his countenance ahd move-
ments indicated, she rose from her seat, and approsching
the bed, looked at him for a minute with a face full of pity.
At last, in 9 soft, sweet voice, she said—

“Poor Frank ! does your foot pain you badly ?

« Yes, it aches awful,” answered Frank, half crying.

“Tm very sorry. But don’t cry. Mother's got some nice
ointment in the basket, that will cure it very quick. It cured
me last summer when I hurt my foot running after butter-—
flies. I was out in the garden, and the sun was shining
brightly, and the butterflies were so thick, and flew about
80 prettily among the flowers, that I wanted to catch some
very much, There was one that was a great deal larger
than the rest, and he had such wide and beautiful wings, all
covered with specks of gold, and brown, and purple, and
they sparkled like so many stars. He led me a long chace
up and down the garden, fluttering from plant to plant,
and from alley to alley, hovering now here, now there, but
never stopping a minute. At last he lit on a small bush
that grew close to the ground, and I thought I was sure of
him, I crept up very cautiously, and-was just about to clap
my bonnet over him, when I stepped on a round stone that
had no business to be there, and sprained my ankle dread-
fully. I couldn’t help screaming with the pain ; and mother
came out.and carried me in, and bathed my foot with this
ointment—and I was well again in two or threo dys. Shoe









24 Goov FoR nvIn.

has brought some of it for you. It will take away all the
soreness and swelling, so that you will soon be able to walk
about as well as ever. And she has got some custards and
jellies for you too. Wouldn’t you like to have one now?
It will make you feel better, I’m sure.”

So saying, she went to the table, and after asking her
mother’s leave, took one of the custards and carried it to
him. The poor fellow was now completely subdued. Mrs.
“Morton's generosity had nearly overcome him; but the kind
words of Clara, her sympathizing look and soothing tones,
connected with the remembrance of how he had wantonly
vexed and grieved her, finished the work,and mejted him
entirely. He took the custard from her hand and tried ‘to
eat it; but his heart was too full: the food seemed to stick
in his throat, and he found it impossible to swallow a morsel.
Putting down the eup, and bursting into tears, he sobbed
out—

“0, Mrs. Morton! ©, Miss Clara! I don’t desarve sich
nice things. I haven't been good to you at all, I did go for
to steal your eggs, and I told you a lio When I said I didn’t.
I know’d there was a big lot of *em in the barn, and I
thought you wouldn't miss afew. I warn't thinking of no
harm at the time; but I now feels very bad about it. I
couldn’t let you be so kind to me without telling how
wicked I’ve been. I won’t do so any more, and I’ll try and
be a good boy, if you'll forgive me.”

For a moment, Mrs. Morton looked very grave, and Clara
very sad, at this confession. After a briof silence, the former
said—

“Iam mich grieved, Frank, not only at your attempt to
molest my property, but still more at the untruth you told
in denying it. The loss I might have sustained is of no
consequence; but pilfering and lying are very sinful and
dangerous habits, and, if not forsaken, will ruin you in this’
world and in the next. As you express sorrow for them,
however, I freely forgive you,and hope you will avoid such
conduct in future. But you must ask God’s forgiveness as
well as mine. Your offence is far more against him than





Goon For EVIE. 25

against me, You have broken his holy law; and ho will not
pass it by, unless you truly repent, and seck his mercy
throngh his Son Josns Christ.”

‘This address, though proper and necessary, was more
than the poor lad could endure. He was greatly agitated ;
he wept aloud; he flung himself from side to side; and, in
the agony of his distress, fairly shook the bed under him.
Clara's little heart bled at the sight. Going up to him, she
laid one of her soft, white hands on his hot and sun-burned
forehead, and brushing back from it the coarse, tangled
locks, looked down into his face with her bright eyes
swimming in tears, and said, in a voice that trembled with
emotion—

“<0, Frank! I am so sorry for you. But don't feel so bad.
Mother won't care about the ergs; and I don’t care abont
the robin, for you didn’t drive him away after all. He came
back when you were gone, and stayed about the house along,
time. And he's back again this spring, and another one
with him; and they've got the prettiest nest that ever was,
out in the orchard, with two lovely little eggs in its and you
shall come and see them,when you get well. You're going
to be a good boy now, I'm certain ; and mother will love
you, and wo will all love you; and God will forgive you,
and help you to do right; for the Bible says he is always
ready to forgive those who are sorry for doisig wrong, and
that ho will not remember their sins any moro.”

It must have beon a very hard heart which these swect
words failed to soften, and a very hopeless one that could
not be comforted by them. ‘What effect they had on Frank
will be soon in the ext chapter.





26 Tne victory.

CHAPTER Ivy.
‘THE VicTORY.

Trene is something in real sympathy that goos at once to
the heart. The rndest natures feel it no less than the most
refined. Frank was wild and untutored, perverse and wil-
ful in temper, and reckless in conduct. But he was not
utterly reprobate. His vices were the result rather of
ignorance and neglect than of any invincible obliquity of
mind. He possessed redeeming qualities, which, when once
called forth, rendered him accessible to Fight impressions,
and gave promise of amendment. To harsh and unfeeling
reproof he was perfectly callous; but compassion and ten-
derness had a power over him, of which he was himself pro-
bably unconscious. The forbearance of Mrs. Morton, and
her pious counsel, had awakened the moral senso that
hitherto lay dormant in his bosom. He saw the wicked-
ness of his behaviour, and the sad end to which it would
lead. Shame, self-reproach, foar, were all alive within him.
But something more than these was needed to effect a
salutary change in his character. He must be roused from
his despondency. He must feel not only sorrow for the
past, but hope for the future. This chord Clara touched.
Her affectionate and encouraging words fell like balm on
his troubled spirit. They calmed and composed him. They
nerved and strengthened him. There sprung up in his
breast a new-born purpose—the heavenimparted thought
that he could reform, and that he would do it.

Raising his eyes to the speaking little face that hung over
him, he said earnestly—

“I wish I was good like you, Clara.”

“0 no, I'm not good,” she answered decidedly, “and you
must not think so. Ask mother, and she can tell you that
I have a great many faults. I am sometimes fretful and
peevish, and then I say and do naughty things. I was very





’ ‘THE VICTORY. P28



angry with you last winter for stoning my bird, and wanted
you whipped... But mother showed me how wrong it was,
and Iwas sorry, and forgave you. If L am not as wicked
as you have been, it is not becauso I am any better myself,
‘but because I have been better taught.”

“ Lwish somebody would teach me,” murmured the poor,
neglected boy. “Won't you, Miss Clara? I should so like
to learn to be good ; and you talk so kindly, think I could
learn, if you would show me?

All along Clara had been Watching for an opportunity to
bring forward her darling scheme of prevailing on Frank to
go to the Sunday-school; «hd now that the conversation
had taken a turn which Jed so naturally to it, she seized
upon the opening with a tact so delicate, and a zeal so
eager, that they were charming to witness.

“I cannot teach you myself, Frank,” she replied, “for
Ym only an ignorant little thing. But come, Pil tell you
what to do—join the Sunday-school ; there you will learn
all about being good. There we read the Bible, which tolls
us how God loved us, and how he wanted us to be good so
much that he sent his own Son into the world, to take
away our sins, and show us the way to be good. And thero
are in it a great many beautiful stories about good mien and
good children, and they are all true; and it is full-of such
sweet things about heaven, and about tho good people that
have gone there, and about the angels, and the white robes,
and the harps, and the hymns, and the bright plains, and
tho streets of pure gold, that you fool as.if you saw it all,
and wanted to go right. up there. And then our teachers,
they are so kind, and love us-so dearly, and talk to us 80
pleasantly about Jesus, and how he is willing to savo us,
and how hé asks us to come to him, and holds out his
arms to receive us. Our superintendent, too, Mr. Law-
rence, what speeches he does make! And there’s our
Library, such nice books, and so many of them. O, Frank,
you will come, won’t yout You will like it so much, I
know.”

Frank hesitated at this proposal. Notwithstanding the





28 Tie yicrony.

Dotter feclings that had begun to work within him, he could
not all at once lay aside his old habits of thinking; and one
of theso was a peculiar prejudice against the Sunday-school.
‘He was wont to regard it as a place of tedious confinement
—a sort of child’s prison—where the little sufferers were
compelled to sit very still on hard benches in a closé room,
through long weary hours, while the fields were smiling,
and the fresh breezes blowing, and the sunshine dancing so
merrily without. Hoe was as wild as a young bear, and
loved to range the woods and mountains as well; and he
had never been taught that it was any sin to indulge his
rambling propensities on the Sabbath. It very often hap-
pens that the sinner, though convinced of the necessity of
reformation in general, will yet start back when urged to
renounce some particular and favourite transgression. Thus
was it with Frank. As Clara pressed her invitation upon
him, his first thought was, that if he complied with it, he
must give up his Sabbath roamings; and, in his reluctance
to do this, he answered—

“I don’t want to bo shut up 0; I'd get dreadful tired
ont, Icouldn’t run about and play a bit.”

“Ah, but, Frank,” replied Clara, “it’s wicked to run
about and play on the Sabbath. God commands us to rest
on that day. And the way we are to rest is to go to church
and to Sunday-school, and to read hia Word, and hear his
gospel preached, and learn how we may serve him, and be
happy with him for ever. That rests body and mind both.
Talways find it so. When it snows or rains very hard, or
Ihave got a bad cold, so that mother does not thinkit safe
for me to go out, the day seems very long, and I feel a great
deal more tired when it is done, than if I had been to the
Sunday-school. No, Frank, you won't bo tired. When
night comes, you will feel a great deal casier than you do
when you spend the Sabbath rambling over the hills, or
boating on the river. You will feel easier in your legs, and
you will feel so easy here,” added she, emiling archly, and
laying her hand on her heart.

“But I'm afeared to go,” muttered Frank. “I'm so









z THE vicrorY.



ignorant and rough-like, and I’ve never been in sich places,
Yd be afeared to go in by myself tho first time, with so
many folks all looking at me. I don’t know nothin’ about
the lessons, and I'd be sartin to make somo blunder ; and
then they’d all laugh, and I'd want to run right off.”

Clara mused for a moment, and then turning to her
mother, inquirod—

“ Mother, if Frank will attend the school, may I come for
him and take him there the first time he gocs !”

“Yes, my dear,” answered Mrs. Morton, “if tho weather
ia pleasant.”

« Now, Frank,” said Clara, “next Sunday morning, if it is
fair, and you are well enough, Pll come out here and go
with you to school, and introduce you to Mr. Lawrence.
‘The scholars would not laugh at you if you went alone, for
they never do it, because they know it is wrong. But no
one will think of it, if I am with you. You cannot have
any excuse now, and you won't refuse to go, will you, if T
come after you?”

‘She looked at him earnestly, oxpecting and hoping that
he would give the desired promise; but he seemed embar-
yassed, and remained silent. At length his mother said—

“I'm afraid, Miss Clara, that Frank has not any clothes
fit to wear at the school. I meant to have got him some
new ones before now; but I’ve been poorer than common
this spring, and. my being sick so much has put me back,
and I haven’t been able to do it. I'll get'them ready as soon
as I can, and then I shall be very glad to have him go.”

“Do not trouble yourself about it," said Mrs. Morton ;
“that shall be my part of the business. If you will permit
me, I will procure him such a suit as he needs, and havo it
sent home by Saturday evening.”

‘This offer was accepted by tho widow with many thanks.
And now the victory was won. Clara triumphed. Stinm-
lated by his newly awakened desire of improvement, and
encouraged by the kind interest shown in his welfare, tho
grateful boy yielded to her importunities, and promised not
only. to attend the school, but to do his best to profit by its



30 ae yrorony.

instructions. And he felt much happier when he had made
this promise. He felt elevated ; he felt as if he was some-
how lifted out of his former self; as if he had taken the
first stop in the right course; as if anew being and a new
destiny were opening: before him.

On rising to take leave, Mré. Morton, turning towards
him, and addressing him in a very affectionate and winning
manner, said—

“I cannot tell you, Frank, how pleased I am at the spirit
you have manifested, and the resolution to which you have
come. Persevere as you have begun, and all will be well.
You will soon gain respect and confidence, and will grow
up to be a good and useful man. I hope that you will
carefully heed the precious truths that will be taught you
in the school, and strive to regulate your conduet by them
on all o¢casions. Be kind and obedient to your mother ;
she is not very strong, and needs all the help you can give
her. One thing more I should like to say, if you will not
be offended with me for mentioning it. I observe that you
treat very severely the poor beast that I seo standing before
yourdoor. He does all he can to assist-you, and it js wrong
to abuse him. This may seem to you a small matter; but
it is not so. Cruelty to animals not. only cansés great suffer-
ing to creatures which God has placed in our power, but
has a most hardening and pernicious effect upon those who
practise it. I trust you will soon get the better of all your
faults, But do not be discouraged if you find them still
clinging to you for atime. Evil habits are not uprooted in
a day; and it is only the grace of God that can enable us
effectually to subduc them. And now I must go. I have
no doubt that I shall hear an excellent account of you.”

*Good-by, Frank,” cried Clara, looking back from the
door, and shaking, her finger at him ; “I shall be here after
you carly on Sabbath morning ; so do not let that foot keep
you tied down there like a big baby.”

Frank promised to be ready; and then mother ‘and
danghter departed for thoir home, grently delighted with
the result-of their visit.





TNE SUNDAY-scHOOL. 3

CHAPTER V.
THE sUNDAY-SCHOOL.

‘Tur sun rose clear on the following Sabbath; and as soon
as breakfast and family worship were over, Clara set out,
with a very bright face and a very happy heart, on her
mission of kindness. Her way, as before, lay across the
fields; and a short but pleasant walk brought her to the
door of the widow’s dwelling. Frank was ready in his new
suit, waiting for her, and together they started forthe place
of their destination. -

It was a most lovely morning. The air was mild and
balmy, and perfumed with the fragrance of numerous frnit-
trees now in full blossom. White fleecy clouds spread like
a veil over the sky, just deep enough ‘to soften, without
concealing, the sun’s beams; and drops of dew, not yet
exhaled, lay glittering on the young grass and the fresh
opened leaves. A profound st
rupted only by the distant lowing of cattle, the matin song
of birds, tho gurgle of streams, or the whispers of the wind
in the neighbouring woods. Everything was marked by the
deep hush peculiar to that swootest of all times and scenes
—a Sabbath in the country.

A Sabbath in the country! What peaceful images rise
before us at the word! Ye dwellers in cities, cooped up in
hot, close walls, confined to narrow and dusty stroots, where
the breath of heaven stagnates, or is poisoned by noxious
effluvia ; where, oven during the sacred hours of the Lord’s
day, dens of vice send fortl. their stench, and oaths and
blasphemy are heard, and: crowds move to and fro, and
enrriages rattle along the pavements, and’ uproar deafens
the ear and distracts the mind—how little’ ye know what a
Sabbath really is! Ye have gorgoous hoyses of worship,
and gaily dressed assemblies, and pealing organs, and elo-
quent sermons—but no Sabbath. Would ye seo that as God







32 THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL.
made it, hie away to some remote rural district, where the
sober and religious population maintain their primitive
habits, uncontaminated by the neighbourhood of great
towns. What a delicious repose, the emblem of a holier
rest, pervades the wholo scene! No rail-car or steamboat,
puffing out fire and smoke, goes thundering by. No stage-
coach rolls noisily along the highway. ‘The roads are de-
serted, except where here and there grave worshippers,
single or in groups, are seen repniring to the temple of God.
Forest, and valley, and hill-side, lie sleeping in a dreamy
calm; and so wide and unbroken is the silence, that even
the note of the grasshopper strikes with clear distinctness
on the ear.

Such was the delightful quiet which prevailed, as Clara,
and her companion proceeded on their way. The church
to which they were bound stood on a green knoll a little
back from the village, embosomed in trees, and surrounded
by an enclosure of four or five acres. Ono side of this
enclosure was fenced off into a grave-yard, where many a
low mound and white stone guarded the dust that siumbered
beneath.” Although it was the home of fhe dead, there was
nothing sombre or gloomy in its appearance. It was laid
‘out in a very neat and tasteful manner, with shaded walke
winding through it; and almost every grave was thickly
planted with flowers and evergreen shrubs, testifying the
affoction of the living for the loved ones that lay there.
Here, before and after service, the people were accustomed
to resort, and to converse, in low, solemn tones, about their
deceased friends and neighbours, and the coming. time when
they themsolves should be laid by their side. The opposite
part of the enclosure was occupied by a row of sheds for
the accommodation of horses and vehicles; while at the
farther end, and in the rear of the chérch, stood the building
appropriated to the Sunday-schoal. The members of the
congregation thought too much of the health and comfort
‘of the school to put it into a damp under-ground basement,
even if their place of worship had been disfigured by such,
which it was nots and in erecting’a separate building for





THE SUNDAY-scHOOL. 33.

its use, they had known toe well what they wero about to
arrange tho premises in such a manner as to divide the
school, and compel it to meet in different rooms. In oppo-
sition to this mistaken policy, they had constructed a pica
sant and commodious edifice of ono storey, containing a
single apartment, easy of access, well ventilated, and suffi-
ciently large to allow all the pupils of both sexes to assom-
dle under the charge of one superintendent. And with a
viow of rendering it more attractive, they had encircled it
with trees and shrubbery, and had trained rosos, and honcy-
suckles, and other creeping plants, along the windows; so
that in summer time tho children sat there with the breath
of flowers stealing in upon them, From the church several
footpaths led off in various directions to tho farms and
dwellings in the vicinity; and a brond enclosed Jano, lined
with maples and poplars, connec ted it with the main road
and with the village.

Towards this sweet spot the pupils of the school were
now approaching from different points. Some came up the
valley by the river side; some from residences near at
hand; some from scattered habitations a milo or two away
among the hills. They came one by one, and in companies.
Here might be seon a curly-headed boy, with cherry checks
and a laughing eye, walking Isisurely along by himself,
stopping now and then to pick up a shining pebble, to trace
the flight of a bird, or watch tho gambols of a squirrel;
and there a band of brothers and sistors coming on together
and chatting merrily, the younger ones often starting from
the path to chase a butterfly, or gather a wild-flower, and
the older ones waiting for them, or calling after them to
come back. They came with light steps and joyous coun-
tenances. But while they were evidently very happy, and
showed their sympathy with tho gladness of evorything
around them, a quiet restraint seemed to hang upon the
natural exuberanco of their spirite, as if they felt that noisy
mirth was ill suited to that holy day.

Although it was not quite time to open the school, yet
most of the scholars were already there, when Clera and

°





24 ‘THE SUNDAY-soHOOL.

Frank arrived, Considerable surprise was felt, as thoro
well might be, at seeing her enter so attended; for it is
scarcely possible to imagine a greater contrast than that
which the two children presented. Clara was about eleven
years old, rather small and slender, but with a form of the
mnost perfect symmetry. Her face was slightly oval, and
the features finely chiselled. Her complexion had that
delicate, transparent tint, in which the rose struggles faintly
with tho lily; and her rich auburn hair, unfettered by braid
or comb, broke out from under her gipsy bonnet, and fell
in golden waves upon her shoulders. But that which most
struck the beholder was her eyes. They were of the purest
azure, and so vivid in their expression, that they seemed
to reflect from their clear depths all the bright thoughts
that were constantly bubbling up in her mind, and flowigg
from her tongue. She was a most beautiful child; anc
every look and motion evinced the ease, intelligence, and
grace of a rare and gifted nature, fostered by maternal care
and developed by skilful culture. Frank, on the contrary,
was rather a rough specimen of humanity. He was not
misshapen or deformed, nor was the general cast of his
countenance repulsive in itself But he was extremely
uncouth. His face and hands were deoply embrowned by
the sun and wind; and his wild, untrimmed locks, from:
frequent exposure without a hat, had been scorched into a
dull yellow. His gait was shambling, his gestures ungainly 5
and his whole appearance bore marks of the ignorance and
neglect in which he had lived.

Little did Clara notieb of all this, or if she did, little did
she care for it. As the poor, untaught lad, startled by the
new faces before him, and ahashed by a feeling of awk-
wardnoss, hesitated and shrunk back, it was beautiful to
see how kindly’ she encouraged him, and how gently she
spoke to him, and with what winning ways che strove to
yeassure.and put him at his ease.” Scarcely less interesting
was it to observe the pleasure which she showed in having
been the means of bringing him. there, and the innocent
triymph with which she regarded her success.







‘RE SUNDAX-SCHOOK. 35

Leading him up to the superintendent, who was standing:

at his desk preparing to commence the exercises, she said—
“0, Mr. Lawrence, I have brought a newscliolar. Hore’s

Frank Haynes come to join us. Are not you glad!”

“Yes, Clara, Iam vory glad, and 1 thank you for the
pains you have taken to persuade him to come, and hope
God will reward you for it. I am always pleased when
any one is added to the school; and Iam still more pleased.
that our dear little pupils show such an intorest in. its
increase.\

Then tumidg to Frank, he gave him an affectionate
greeting, and said,—

«Iam most happy to see you, my young friend, and in
the name of the whole school bid you a cordial welcome.
‘You have done wiscly in resolving to unite with us in the
study of God’s holy Word; and you will never regret it.
My dear children,” ho continued, addressing the school,
“thoro is afresh recruit come to enlist in our little army.
Are you not all glad to receive him?”

‘The girls said “ Yes" with a pleasant smile, and the boys
said “Yes” with a hearty shout, and crowding up around
the new comer, and shaking him warmly by the hand,
seemed so glad to sce him, and said so many kind things to
him, that Frank thought they were the finest fellowg in the
world, and began to forget his bashfulness, and to feel him-
self quite at home.

‘These demonstrations over, the superintendent: began to
consider in what manner he should dispose of Frank so as
‘Dest to secure his improvement. After reflecting a while,
he called up to him one ‘of the teachers, a young man by
tho name of Seymour, who was distinguished for his intelli-
Bence and picty, and possessed a remarkable talént for
communicating instruction.

“Mr. Seymour,” ho said, “have you a vacant seat in your
class?”

« Yes, sir,” was the reply.

“Will you undertake the chargo of this ladt You will
find him ‘very ignorant, Iam-sfraid, and may have much



36 ‘THE SUNDAY-scHOOL.

trouble in making him comprehend what you wish to teach
him?”

“I do not fear trouble, when a soul is to be erilightened
and saved.” ‘ -

“I know you do not; and I, therefore, commit him to
your hands with entire confidence that you will take all
possible pains to instil into his mind the truths of the
Gospel.”

‘Thus the matter was arranged; and Mr. Seymonr ad-
drossing Frank in a very kind and-encouraging manner, led
him to a seat with the class of boys over which he pre-
sided.

‘Tho bell now rang for the exercises to commence, and
the children at once took their places. Tho superintendent
then gave out from a little book which they used, called
‘The Harp, tho beautiful hymn beginning with the lines—

“How happy ts the child who hears
Tnstruction’s warning votes,
And who celestial Wisdom makes
Bis -arly, only choice.”

‘When tho hymn had been read, the teachers and scholars
all joined in singing it. Frank was very much affected.
He had heard rude boys and ruder men screaming out
coarse, vulgar ballads at fairs and other merry-makings;
‘but he had nover before listened to anything like this. ‘Tho
words wore so solemn ; the tune was so aweet; the voices of
the children, especially of the little girls, blended so prettily
with the deeper and fuller notes of the teachers; and the
combined harmony broke forth so richly on the still morn-
ing air, and floated away so delightfully amid the sunshine
and the flowers, that Frank hardly knew what to think of it.
Ho looked up at the ceiling. He looked out of the win-
dows. He rubbed his eyes with his sleeve. He felt
strangely. Where was he? In a new world, euro.

‘When tho singing was concluded, the wholé company
kneeled down by their forms, and covered their faces with
their hands. Frank imitated the movement, though he
scarcely urderstood what it meant. Soon he heard the



THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL. a7

voice of the superintendent, as if speaking to some one.
He raised his eyes to learn who it was that he was address-
ing; but he saw only bowed heads on every side of him,
and Mr. Lawrence standing by his desk, and talking ear-
nestly. He buried his face in his hands again, and listenod.
In a few moments, he discovered, from the expressions usod,
that Mr. Lawrence was praying. He was conversing with
the great God who lives in heaven, who knows all things,
and can destroy us in a moment. Frank was awed. He
thonght it a solemn thing to be in the same room with a
man who was talking to God, and talking, too, as if God
‘was very nigh and heard him.

The prayer being finished, the scholars resumed their
seats, and opened their Bibles. The lesson which they
were to study that morning, was tho Parable of the Pro-
digal Son, Frank could read a little, having been for a
short time in the publie school; but he had rarely opened
the Bible, and knew almost nothing of its contents.“ The
subject of the lesson was, therefore, quite new to him; and
as his teacher proceeded to explain the parable, and to put
questions to the class concerning it, and to press home upon
them its practical application to their own state, his atten-
tion was gradually aroused, and his interest awakened.
He did not understand very clearly much of what was said ;
for although Mr. Seymour used the plainest language, and
studiously endeavoured to adapt both his thoughts and his
expressions to the capacity of the youngest and least in-
structed of his pupils, yet Frank was so unfamiliar with
religious ideas, and with the terms in which they are con-
veyed, as to be able to form only an indistinct conception
of thiir meaning. But the story of the prodigal affected
him, It seemed likea picture of himself. He thought that
he, too, had been ‘all his life far away from good. Tho
sweet words and simple cloquonce of the inspired narratiye
touched his heart, and strengthened within him the desire
and tho hope of amendment.



2s A PARADLE EXPOUNDED,

CHAPTER VI.
A PARABLE EXPOUNDED,

‘Wnen the teachers had gone through the lesson with their
classes, the superintendent rang his bell to call the attention
of the school, and then, taking up the subject with which
they had been occupied, made one of those addresses of
which Glara had spoken in such high praise.

“ Well, children,” he said, “how do you like your lesson
to-day ?”

“Very much indeed,” they all answered.

“What has it been about?”

“A parable.” ,

“Can any of you tell me what a parable is?”

All were sitent, except a little bright-oyed girl, who,
blushing, and looking hurriedly round upon the rest, as if
frightened at her own boldness, lisped out—

“A pretty story, sir.”

“Well done, my little Mary; you havo hit it exactly.
Yea, a parable is a story, or short narrative of incidents, real
or supposed, intended to illustrate spiritual truths. In this
parable, our Lord tells us of a father that had two sons
‘whom he loved very tenderly, and to whom he showed every
proper indulgence. The young men might have been very
happy, for they had a deligh$fal home, where they were
allowed a great inany comforts and innocent pleasures, and
had nothing to do except what was for their good. But the
younger son became dissatisfied. Ho did not like to submit
to his father’s authority. He got the foolish and wicked
notion into his head, that he was kept in too much, and that
he should be happier if ho could set up for himself, and act
as he pleased, without any oneto control him. So he asked
his fathor to give him that portion of the family property
which would one day be his, and he would go and sock his
fortune. The good man Was exceedingly grieved that his







A PARABLE EXPOUNDED. 39

dear boy wanted to Ieave him, but judged it best, on the
whole, to let him have his way, hoping that experience
would soon cure him of his folly. Having obtained this
reluctant consont, the ungrateful fellow packed up all his
money and clothes, and turning his back upon his kind old
father, and on the pretty spot where he had been born and
brought up, without caring whether he ever saw them again,
went off as fast as he could ‘into a far country” What do
you think of such a fellow as that?”

« lo was very naughty,” they all said.

“Yes, he was not only very naughty, but, like most boys
that wish to escape from parental control, he was very silly
too, as the result showed. For, instead of engaging in some
useful and profitable business, by which he might husband
and increase what he had brought with him, he fancied him-
self excessively rich, and squandered his substance as if there
was no end to it. What with the careless way in which he
kept. it, the gay clothes he bought, the sumptuous manner
in which he lived, the dissolute company he entertained, he
inside it fly very fast, you may be sure. While his money
lasted, he had plenty of friends. Crowds of idle and profli-
gate associates followed him wherever he went. Little did
they care into what extravagance they led him; it was no
concern of theirs; he paid for all. His patrimony, as you
‘may suppose, was soon gone ; and then all these wicked
companions that had fed upon him, flattering his vanity, and
telling him what a fine, generous fellow he was, dropped off
‘one by one, and left him alone.in his shamo and beggary.
To aggravate his distress, ‘there arose a groat famine” just
about this time ; so that food was dearest when he had the
Jeast means of procuring it. Ho was poor and miserable
enough now. He had not a penny to buy himself a dinner,
or got a new coat, or a pair of shoes ; and not one of those
who had helped him to spend'his money while ho had it,
would lend him a farthing. What was he to dot Should
he go back to his father, and tell him how wicked and'diso-
bedient he had been, and ask to be restored to his favour!
Should he submit to the mortification of hearing his former









40 A PARABLE EXPOUNDED.

acquaintance say, ¢ Here's that youngster that hold his head
so high, and went away so grand, boasting what great things
he would do. Poor work he has made of it! There he is,
all in rags, without a penny in his pocket, and looking as if
he had not slept in a bed, or eaten a meal for weeks? No,
he would not do that. He would, beg, he would starve, ho
would even work first. So he looked about him for employ-
ment. But he found it very difficult to getany. ‘The famine
made business very dull ; and decent people did not like to
hire a person whose face, and trembling limbs, and tattered
fiinry, told so strongly of recent dissipation. At length he
heard of a man that lived a long way off in a wild part of
the country, and had a great estate on which immenso
herds of cattle and swine wero kept. Having no other
resource left, he resolved to seek out this man, and see if he
would not give him something to do that would keep him
from starving. After a long journey over rongh and hilly
roads, he reached the place at last, so weary, footsore, and.
hungry, that he could hardly stand. The man had a great
many labourers already, and did not need any more; but as
the applicant seemed helpless and forsaken, he thought it a
good chance to get work done without paying for it. So he
concluded to take him. And what sort of business do you
suppose he put him at ?”

“ Feeding the pigs,” cried a flaxen-haired urchin, about
seven yeats old, holding up his head, and looking as if he
thought he had said something very smart.

“You are right, my little man: ‘He sent hin: into his
fields to feed swine’ Now you know, children, that among
the Jews, whom our Saviour was addressing, swine were
regarded with peculiar abhorrence as unclean animals,
whose flosk their law forbade them to use. Hence, in their
view, to tend swino was ono of the most degrading oceupa-
tions in-which it was possible to engage. We thus seo to
what wretched debasement a course of disobedience leads.
‘Here was this young man, who, while 2t home, had always
been chorished and caressed, and of whom no service had
ever been required which it was not an honour to him to per-



A PARABLE EXPOUNDED. 41

form, reduced so low in consequence of his waywardness, as
to be compelled to stoop to tho disreputable calling of wait-
ing upon foul and filthy beasts, the very sight of which was
an abomination to all his ideas and feclings. But though he
lowered himsolf to such mean task, he could not thereby
supply his necessities. His master was an avaricious man,
who not only refused to pay him any wages, but'was so cruel
as to deny him the coarsest food. So painful was his hanger,
that he would gladly have stilled its cravings by eating the
husks or pods of the carob-tree,* with which the swine were
fed ; but even this he was not permitted to do.

«In the extremity of his sufferings, he began at length to
seo his past conduct in its true light. He awoke from his
forgetfulness of home. Reflection came back tohim. ‘With
agonizing sorrow he thought on the base return which he
had made for all his father’s care and love. Recollections
of his father’s house—of its many comforts; of-its plentiful
table, where even the lowest menial found ‘bread enough
and to spare ? of its old familiar faces, and of the happiness
which he once enjoyed there—roso up vividly to his mind,
and made his Ioneliness and destitution appear moro
terrible. His pride and obstinacy gave way. He deter-
mined to endure his present state no longer. He would go
back to his father. Justly offended by his ingratitude, his
father might rofuse to receive him as a son; no matter, ho
‘would become his servant. His carly associates might scorn
him ; leb them scorn, he deserved it. Home he would has-
ten, whatever his reception.

“Full of these repentant feclings, he abandons his hard
employer ; leaves the swine to take care of themselves, and
to eat as many husks as they like; and starts for home. It





imho Greck word, rendered“ Ausks" in our Engltsh New Testament,
aonoten the fult of a treo which fa very abundant tn Tealy, Eaypt, and Pales-
Une. “Itbears a great number of pods, of a curved diape Uke & hora, from
Seven to eight inches in Tongthy and Slfed with a whitish juice, slightly acid
in tanta, "These pods ere often given ax fod to cattle and swine; and are
rometimen eaton by To. in seasons of famine. ‘They, however, POS
ftom lito nutriment. and are considered very meagre fare. ‘Cho Grooks call
the tree eration, Horn-tree, and ite English namo is Carob.



42 A PARABLE EXPOUNDED.

was a long way ho had to travel, for ho had wandered off
to a great distance. Ho had deserts to cross, mountains to
climb, rivers to wade; but the memory of home stimulates
him to tho effort, and nerves him with endurance. Without
money, without clothes, without food, he presses forward,
up hill and down hill, through gloomy forests, and over
wide, barren plains; the cry of ‘Home! home! father!
father!’ bursting from his lips, and quickening his steps.
Onward—onward still—he goes. Weeks pass. The hot sun
scorches him by day ; tho damp earth is his bed by night.
His fect aro swollon and bleeding, and his emaciated limbs
reel and totter under his weight. At last thesad journey
is near its end. A stoep ascent rises before him, from the
top of which his father’s mansion can be seen. But his
exhausted strength can carry him no farthor. Faint, and
sick at heart, he lies down to die almost within sight of the
goal for which he has striven so long. And shall he dio
thus? No, no. Again the thought of the once loved ones
now so near him ‘breathes fresh vigour into his sinking
frame. He springs to his fect once more, and struggles
upward, shouting as Joud as his feeble voice will let him,
‘Home! home! father! father?”

“Meanwhile the father had not forgotten his still dear,
though orring child. His heart yearned after the wanderer,
and clung fondly to the hope that he would yct return. Of
every traveller that passed he made inquiries concerning
him. He hard of his riotous living ; then that he had spent
all; then that he was in great want; then that he had gone
no one knew whithor. He trusted that his distress would
bring him to his senses, and Iead him back to the arms that
longed to welcome him. In this expectation, he often
walked out along the road by which his son had departed,
or went up to a turret on the house-top, that commanded a
wide view over the plain, to see if he could discover any
sign of his coming. One day he was unusually agitated.
He moved restlessly from room to room. Wherever he
turned, he met something that recalled the lost one. He
thought of him as he had been when a little boy. He fell



A PARABLE EXPOUNDED. 43

ngain the pressure of his tiny hands clasping his knees, or
twining his hair; he heard agaiit the pattering of his nimblo
fect and the ringing of his merry voice.

“Unable longer to control his anxiety, he ascended to his
accustomed look-out. There he stood for a long time,
straining his eyes over the wide prospect, to catch some
glimpse of his returning son. Tho heavy hours drag on,
but he sees nothing. ‘The sun is sinking low; the shadows
are beginning to fall; still the fond parent continues his
eager watch. An object appears on the summit of the dis-
tant hill. It stops for a moment. It sinks to the ground.
It rises again, and moves slowly forward. Now it is hidden
from view by intervening trees. Now it emorges, nearer
and moro distinct. It is aman. ‘Is it—is it my son? asks
the anxious father, throwing his whole soul into his gaze.
«No, no, it cannot be. My son went forth crect and tall,
with youthful vigour and a bounding step ; but this one is,
weak and tottering, and bowei as by the weight of years or
sorrow.’ The wayfarer comes painfully down the dusty
path. He raisos his haggard face toward the old house,
and the old turret, and the venerable form that is leaning
out from it. The father seos that face, for a father’s eyes
can see far. Changed as it is, he knows it, and exclaiming,
“It is he! it is he!’ rushes from the turret, and down the
stairs, and out at the door, and up the road, fist as his aged
limbs can bear him. The son.sees his father running to
meet him, and mingled feelings of shame, penitence, and
love, swell and struggle in his bosom. Hoe staggers on a
fow paces, then falls weeping at his father’s fect, and sobs
out in broken accents, ‘Father, I have sinned against
Heaven and in thy sight, and am no more-worthy to be
called thy son’ Tho father clasps him round the neck,
covers him with kisses, presses him to his heart, and cries,
while tears stroam down his furrowed cheeks, ‘Myson, my
son, my long-lost son!” ‘Then he lifts him up and conducts
him into the house. He takes of his rags, and, clothes him
in holiday. attire, with shoes on his feet-and a ring on his
hand; and summoning his houschold, bids them prepare a





a4 A PATABLE EXPOUNDED,

feast to celebrate his arrival. © what joyous excitement
was there in that house that night! servants running to
and fro—huge fires blazing on the hearths and roaring up
the chimneys—tho fatted calf roasting—the great table
drawn out in the hall, groaning under its load of dainties
—bells ringing—music playing—happy voices sounding—
gladness in every eye, and congratulation on every lip,
because the lost was found, the dead was alive again !””

By this time many of the children were in tears, and‘some
weeping aloud. The superintendent, percoiving how deeply
they were affected, paused a moment to allow them to
become @ little more composed, and then continued—

“You have listened, my dear pupils, to this touching
account, and your looks show how much you are intorested.
in it. But now I want you to consider what itis designed to
teach. In the misguided young man, who left his father’s
house with the vain fancy that he should thus better his
condition, we have the likeness of all those who forsake
God, the fountain of living waters, and seek for happiness
in the paths of worldliness and sin. Such is naturally the
character of each one of us. We have gone away from our
heavenly Father, cast off his laws, and rojected his service.
And as the prodigal found only wretchodness and slavery
where he expected delight and freedom, so we can reap
from the seed of transgression nothing but a harvest of
shame and woe. The disobedient son, whose history wo
have traced, saw his folly bofore it was too late, and re-
turned with sincere contrition to his forgiving and loving
father. May the Holy Spirit convince us, in like manner,
of the guilt and misery that attend a state of alienation from
God, and, through faith in the atonement of Christ, bring us
back to the footstool of Divine mercy. Our Father in
heaven longs to recover and embraco every wandering
child; and if we go to him in true repentance, he will
graciously pardon all our offences; receive us as his sons
and daughters ; array us in the white rob of the Saviour’s
righteousness ; place on our hands the ring of adoptions
feast us in his banqueting house; and rejoice over us with





PROGRESS IN REYORM. 45

exceeding joy. And all holy beings will rejoice with him ;
for ‘there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over
one sinner that repenteth?

“In the parable which has been examined, there was ono
thing that marred the goncral gladness. The clder son
grudged the welcome given to his brother, and refused to
share in it. His conduct not only illustrates the selfish
bigotry of the Jews who murmured because the Gentiles
were admitted into the kingdom of God, but administers
reproof to all in every age who, favoured with high advan-
tages, look with contempt upon the neglected and destitute.
While weshould be thankful for the distinguished privileges
which we enjoy, and whilo we should make it our first
endeavour to secure a personal interest in the blessings of
the Gospel, it is also our duty to cherish a fraternal regard
for the ignorant and tho outcast, and to use every means
in our power to gather them into the fold of the great
Shepherd.” .

Many cyes were stealthily directed towards Frank, as
these words were uttered ; and if any had been inclined to
look down upon him, to ridicule his awkwardness, or to
laugh at his ignorance, they now felt ashamed of the very
thought, and resolved to treat him with particular kindness
and attention.

Another hymn having been sung, and prayer offered by
Mr. Seymour, the exercises of the morning were closed, and
teachers and scholars repaired to the church for the purpose
of engaging in publie worship.

CHAPTER VII.
PROGRESS IN REFORM.

‘Wonpznrot are the transformations wrought by the Sun-
day-school. It is the mightiest agency which tho world
has ever seen for the right education of youth. Not only



46 PROGRESS IN REFORM.

does it tend directly, and with great power, to imbue the
mind with divine knowledge, to open it to religious impres-
sions, and prepare the way for the converting energy of the
Holy Spirit; but its collateral results—the influence which
it wields in .olevating the degraded and reforming the
vicious—are of inestimable value. Under its moulding
hand, the idle become diligent ; the churlish and rude grow
refined; the ignorant acquire intelligence; the profane
learn to reverence the name of their Maker; the dissolute
are reclaimed; and those whose unchecked depravity
would have made them the pests of society, are rendered
virtuous, useful, and happy, the joy of their friends, and the
hope of their country.

‘These benign effects were soon visible in Frank Haynes.
He had attended the school but a short time, before his
whole bearing and conduct showed a marked improvement.
He left off his habits of lying, swearing, pilfering, and Sab-
bath-breaking. His speech became less vulgar, his manners
Jess clownish, his appearance more neat and orderly; and
so altered was his entire deportment, that the inhabitants
of the village could scarcely recognise in him the wild boy
who had fermerly given them so much trouble. Instead of
prowling about the neighbours’ premises, bent on mischief,
he employed himself in useful matters at home, and did
what he could to help his mother in her hard straggle with
poverty. He mended the broken windows, repaired the
fences, removed the litter from the yard, weeded the garden,
and hoed the corn and potatoes that were growing in the
little field. And he went to his work not in across and
surly manner, as he had formerly done whenever he could
be induced to work at all, but willingly and cheerfully, as
though it were a pleasure to him. His mother was sur-
prised and delighted at the change, and thought that if
going.to Sunday-school and to church could effect sucha
reformation in him, religion must be a very good thing for
poor peopls as well as for the rich. She felt happier than
she had been for many a long day} and often, as'she stood
in the low door of her rude dwelling, watching her son at



PROGRESS IN REFORM. 47

his work, she would say, while a pleased smile lighted up
her worn features, “La, now, what a nice, steady boy Frank
is getting to be. Who'd a thought it? I wonder what's
come over him?” *

The donkey wondered even more than she did, and would
have expressed his amazement very decidedly, if he had
only known how. It was a lucky day for him when Mrs.
Morton undertook to plead his cause. Frank remembered
her kind ‘intercession for poor Neddy, and determined :to
follow her advice, Of this hesoon gave her a very amusing
proof.

One morning, as Mrs. Morton and her daughter were
sitting in the parlour, the sound of 2 hoof caught Clara’s
ear. Rising and going to the window, she exelaimed—

* Mother, here’s Frank coming down the road, and how
funny he looks !””

Mrs. Morton went to the window and looked out. Frank
was approaching on tho back of his donkey. ‘Tho animal,
for a donkey, seemed in astonishing spirits. Ho looked
sleek and comfortable. Hoe capered, and frisked, and
scampered along as if running a race ; and all, apparently,
of his own free will. A glance solved the mystery. Frank
had fastened to tho end of a Jong pole a tin dish filled with
corn, and was holding it out before the donkey’s nose. On
coming opposite the cottage, he stopped, and taking off his
hat, and bowing respectfully, said—

“'m much obliged to you, Mrs. Morton, and to you, Miss
Clara, for getting me to go to the school. It’s a fine place,
and’ I’ve felt like trying to be a good boy ever since I've
‘been going there. I’m thinking you're right too, in what
you said about Neddy. I don’t beat him any more, and I
brush him nice, and give him plenty to eat, and he's got as
active asa deer. See, ma’am, when I put this before him,
how fast he goes. I give him a bite now and then, and he
likes it” and Frank, suiting the action to the word, thrust
the dish before the donkey’s mouth; at which sight Neddy
kicked up his heels, and went scouring down the road with
his. master.





43 PROGRESS IN REFORM.
Mrs. Morton laughed heartily at Frank’s novel method of
making his animal go, and then turning to Clara, eaid—

“Now, my daughter, you sco what a transformation in a
bad boy a little kindness can work. So trae is it, that
«Kindness, like the gentle breath of spring, melts the icy
heart?”

Several months passed, during which Frank persevered
in the good course on which ho had entered. Ho had
naturally quick parts, and as Mr. Seymour took great pains
in instructing’ -him, he made rapid progress. Ho soon
learned to read the Bible with ease, and to give intelligent
answers to the questions addressed to him by his teacher.
A thirst for knowledge sprang up in his mind. Ho became
very fond of reading, and loved to ocoujiy his evenings, and
other intervals of rest, with the books which he procured
from the Sunday-school library, or stich as he could borrow
ftom his friends. These he would often read aloud to his
mother, as she sat plying her knitting-needles, or repairing
some article of clothing. By degrees, she became so much
interested in what interested him, and.was so rejoiced by
the new mode of life he was leading, that he found little
difficulty in persuading her to go with him to church, and
to attend regularly upon the instraction which had proved
80 beneficial to himself. And it was a most lovely sight to
see this once turbulent and refractory boy quietly leading
his mother to the house of the Lord; sitting by her side,
-with an attentive. and reverent countenance, while the
‘message of divine truth was dispensed; turning round, and
nodding to her, or touching her arm now and thon, when
something was said that he thought particularly good, or
especially suited to their own case. Not lesa delightfal
was it to seo him on the Sabbath evening at home opening
the sacred volume, and regding to her its words of life;
often stopping to tell her what Mr. Lawrence or Mr. Sey-
mour had said about such a doctrine, or such. a fact in the
Scripture history,.or what jhe had learned about the birth,
and works, and! death of Christ; and then, when s chapter
or two hiad boon finished, taking up tho Pilgrim's Progress,





‘THE YOUNG TEMPTERS. 49

or Baxter’s Call, or the Saint’s Rest, or the Dairyman’
Daughter, and going over their thrilling pages with a
flushed check and an earnest utterance; while the poor
woman sat and listened, full of wonder at the new things
she heard. The order of nature was reversed. Tho child
had become the guide and teacher ; the mother the learner,
whom his lips counselled and his example led.





CHAPTER VIII.
THE YOUNG TEMPTERS.

Our friend Frank had much to encourage him in the better
way which he had chosen. Many hands were extended to
help him; many voices cheered him on. The neighbours
were pleased at his amendment, and spoke kindly to him;
and most of his young companions told him they were glad
he was becoming a good boy, and hoped he would go on as
he had begun,

This, however, was not the case with all. Some there
were who laid snares in his path, and endeavoured to draw
him back into his old course. It is one of the penalties of
evil habits, that they bring the sinnor in contact with wicked
associates, who, when any better fecling prompts him to
break away from his vices, strive to tighten his cords and
to ‘hold him fast. The people of Green Hollow and its
vicinity were remarkable for their sober-and religious
character; and their children were generally well governed,
and brought up in the fear of God. But there were some
exceptions. A few youths were to be found in the village,
who pursued a profligate career in defiance of public opinion
and parental control.. Foremost among them were three
lads; named Hugh Thompson, Ben Stiles, and Jim Savage.
With these Frank had. formerly been vory intimate; but
since his resolution to reform, he had withdrawn himself
and sought to'shnn their‘society. They wero ‘not inclined,





50 THE YOUNG TEMPTERS.
however, to let him go so easily, avd resolved to make an
effort to regain their influence over him.

"The fathers of these boys were farmers and near neigh-
bours. On an afternoon early in the ensuing autumn, it so
happened that all three were called from home on busi-
ness, and left the lads at work each in a field by himself.
No sooner were their fathers gone, than the disobedient,
youngsters abandoned the tasks assigned them, and got
together, determined ona frolic. Various plans of amuse-
ment were proposed and rejected, when it was finally set-
tled that they wonld go fishing. So they all ran to get their
fishing-tackle, and then went down to the river, and, taking
a boat,paddled out to the place where they intended to
pursue their sport. While thus engaged, they kept up an
idle conversation which was of no profit to themselves, and
would not be to the reader were we to repeat it. At last
Ben Btiles said abruptly—

“What on ’arth’s become o' Frank Haynes? I haven't
seen him but once or twice for ever so long.”

“Nor I neither,” replied Jim Savage, “and when I do
cross his track, he looks another way, as if he felt too big
to speak to a feller. Iecan’t think what's the matter with
him.”

“Why, don’t you know,” said Hugh Thompson, “that
Frank’s grown steady lately, as they call it ??

“No! He hasn’t, though!” exclaimed the others.

“Yos, he has. Ho's joined the Sunday-school, and reads
the Biblo; and when a chap does that, it’s casy to see
what'll be the end on’t. I met him t’other Sunday walking
with his mother to church, with a Bible and psalm book in
his hand, and looking as sober as Deacon Parsons himself.
He'll take to religion, I s’pose, and then maybe they’ll
make a minister on him, one o” these days.”

“Well, I’m sorry for't,” said Jim. “Frank used to be
one of the finest hands in the world for a spree; and there
are so few of the boys heré that are up to any fun, that I
dou't like to have him leave us.”

. “I don’t beliéve he will,” cried Ben, “He's not in



THE YOUNG TEMPTERS, oL

’arnest, depend on't, It's only one o” his tricks; he’s tryin”
to make game of the people. We'll bring him out on’t,
somehow.” %

“If we could manage to get him into one ‘of his old
scrapes,” said Jim, “that would do the business for him.
He wouldn't dare show his face either at church or Sunday-
school arter that.”

“I've thought of just-the plan,” said Hugh. “You know
Squire Goodwin who livesin the white house about half a
mile down the river. Well, he’s got the biggest lot o”
melons that-ever you seed. They’re away on the back
edgo of his corn-field, and not in sight of the house at all.
I was along there yesterday, and looked at ’em. They’ro
just about ripe, and there’s so many that the ground’s all
‘covered with’em. Now, I tell you what, boys; I've made
up my mind to have some o” them melons. Come, let's go
there to-morrow night arter tho folks are all a-bed. We'll
try and persuadd Frank to go with us. Ho's terrible fond
o” melons, and can’t refuse. And if he joins us, we'll con-
trive to have him found out some way. He'll be ashamed.
then to make any more fuss about being good, and will be
a wild, rattlin’ feller again, as he used to be.”

“‘Hurra, that’s capital!” shouted the two other boys;
“that'll fix him, sure asa gun. But who's to undertake the
job? Who'll get him to go?”

“Well, perhaps I'd better be the one to try,” answered
Hugh. “Frank and I were once pretty thick, and I guess I
can come it over him yot.”

To this the others agreed; and the young reprobates,
finding the fish had left off biting, and thinking more of the
fish they wanted to catch on the land than of those they:
couldn't catch in the water, drow up their hooks, and went
home,

‘Tho next morning, while Frank was busily at work wood-
ing his mother’s Little patch of corn, so as to let the sun
in upon the ears, that they might ripen the faster, Hugh
‘Thompson came asuntering down the lane, and seeing Fronk
in the ficld, got over the funce, and went to him.





52 ‘THE YOUNG TEMPTERS.

“How are ye, Frank? How’ve yo been this long time!”

Frank had no wish for Hugh’s socioty, knowing what a
vicious fellow he was; but remembering the scriptural
command, * Bo courteous,” he answered civilly—

“Ym very well, I thank you. How’ve you been getting
along?”

“Morry as acrickot. But, Frank, it seems to me you're
*mazing industrious. What's got into yon lately? I’ve
hardly seen you this summer. “You haven’t been fishing or
‘boating with us once. You wasn’t at the last training, and
there’s been two or three sprees up on the hill, where. they
had lots o” fun; and Ben, and Jim, and I wore there, and
we thought you'd be too, but you wasn’t. Why in the
world do you keep yourself so close?”

“I haven’t much time for play. Mother's very unwell,
and needs all I can do; and when I have a little leisure,
V’d rather spend it in reading than in tramping about the
country.”

“But you might have a little sport now and then, on
Sundays, as you used to do.”

“Ono. I’ve seen that all that was very wrong. I now
g0 to Sunday-school and chureh, and the rest of the day I
read the Bible and good books to mother ; and I’m a great
deal happier than I was when I did differently.”

* But you'll mope yourself to death, if you go on so.
©All work and no play ’ll make Jack a dull boy.’ Come
now, let’s have one good frolic for the sake of old times.
Some of us fellers are goin’ to have a real bit o’ fan to-
night. There's Squire Goodwin has got a famous melon-
patch, in an out of the way sort 0’ place, where nobody can
see you. Well, we're goin’ there, and we want you to go
with us. There's heaps of em, more than he knows what
to do with, and he’d give us as many as we liked, if we only
asked him; but that, you know, wouldn’t be half so plea-
sant as to take em ourselves. It aint no harm to pick a
fow melons without leave, when they’re.so plenty. Every~

body does it; and people only laugh at the feller that loses
*em.”





‘Tie YOUNG TEMPTERS. 53

«No,I can’t go. It wouldn't be right. Squire Goodwin
is an honest man, that docs well by all, and is very kind to
the poor. Only last winter, when the snow was so deep,
and everything so dear, he sont mother three bushels of
wheat, and several bags of potatoes, and a great load of
wood, all cut and split for the stove. And do you think Pll
be so mean as to go and steal his melons! No, I'd sooner
never taste one as Jong as I live,” cried Frank, enorgeti-
cally. “Ivo done such tricks, I know; but P'm ashamed
enough of °em now. Besides, it’s downright stealing, after
all your smoothing it over. It’s as much stealing to take a
man’s melons without his consent, as it is to take his horse
or his cow, and the Bible says, ‘Thou shalt not steal? I
darn’t do it, and I won’t, and you mustn’t.”

“Mustn’t ! Pd like to know how you're goin’ to stop us?”

“Well, I shall be sorry to have to do it, but if you don’t
promise to let this business alone, I'll go to Squire Goodwin
this very day, and tell him what you're“up to. He'll con-
trive some way to stop you, I guess.”

“You will, will you? Now just you look hore, Frank.
You're a mean, tattling coward, and haven't a bit o” pluck
in you. We're goin’ to have them melons to-night, and
you, nor all the Squire Goodwins in Green Hollow, shan’t
hinder us. But if you dare blab one word about it to him
or anybody else, wo'll give you the best thrashing you ever
had in your life. So you'd better take car

«I'm no coward, Hugh,” said Frank, quietly but firmly,
“for I'm not afraid to do right.”

Hugh, turning away, leaped over the fence, and ran up
the lane in great wrath, shaking his fists, and uttering the
‘most outrageous threats and imprecations. When he was
out of sight, Frank carried his hoe into the house, and
brushing his hair, and putting on his coat, walked down to
Squire Goodwin's.

‘The squire was a regular old hero, of true, native, un-
adulterated breed. He was now about sixty-five years of
ge, halo and vigorous, with a tall and muscular frame, on
which the frosts of time seemed to make as little impression







54 THE YOUNG TeMPrens.-

as the winter snows did on the cliffs of his own mountains.
He had been a soldier, and had fought bravely for his
country on more than one woll-fought field. After pence
was declared, he purchased his present farm, then mostly
an uncultivated common, and laboured hard to clear his
Jand, and bring it under cultivation. In process of time, he
married, trained wp ‘t~argze and promising family of chil-
dren, and, by frugality and industry, became opulent. His
intelligence and good character made him one of the leading
men of the place; and he now held tho office of justice of
the peace, and was much consulted on local affairs. With
the gravity suitable to his years, there was mingled a sly,
quict humour, that often showed itself in his sayings and
doings. He was apt to indulge in harmless practical jokes

and when he caught unruly boys committing depredations
on his premises, he would frequently inflict on them some
amusing punishment which, without hurting, would expose
them to so much ridicule, that they seldom repeated the
offence. And this he would do in the most good-natured
way imaginable; for there was not a particle of harshness
or severity in his disposition. He was very open-hearted
and hospitable, had a large house, and appeared to be never
so happy as when he saw his friends and neighbours sur-
rounding his well-furnished table. He delighted?to do kind
things, such as sending baskets of early fruit or Fare vege-
tables to those who were not in asituation to procure them ;
while to the sick and the needy he was as a, ministering
angel. Everybody loved the squire, and well they might;
for a more frank, generous old fellow never walked. In
addition to these estimable qualities, and as the crown and
glory of them all, he was a sincere and devoted Christian,
the right hand of his pastor, active in prayer-meetings,
prompt and liberal in religious enterprises, always devising
good, and always foremost in accomplishing it. ‘The Sun-
day-school, however, was his‘special favourite ; and rarely
did he allow a Sabbath to pass without dropping in to give

© word of encouragement to the teachers, or of counsel to
the scholars.



ATH YOUNG TEMPTERS. 5S

The squire was at work in his garden, pulling onions
from their beds, and tying them in strings ready to be hung
up for future use. He know Frank very woll, and had
taken a lively interest in his recent behaviour; and as the
latter now approached, he met him with @ cordial smile,
and a warm shake of the hand.

«Pm glad to soo you, my boy; how are yout”

« Protty well, I thank you, sir.”

“And how goes the school nowt Do you like it as well
as ever?”

“0 yes, sir, I like it better and better. I wouldn't leave
it on any account.”

«I'm happy to hear you say so. What did you think of
the last book I lent you, the Pilgrim's Progress, was it
not?” ig

“0, sir, it’s the most wonderful book—just like a picture
all through. They call it a dream ; but I dou’t think it’s »
dream at all, It seems as real as life to me. I can see all
the places and all the people there, just as plain as if they
were painted. And I can see Christian going up to the
Wicket Gate, and passing through it, and then walking on
towards the Celestial City; and every step ho takes, I fool
as if I wanted to go with him. I’m glad he got rid of his
great pack, thongh; it must have tired him dreadfully to
have carried that all the way.”

* Yes, it is a famous description of the believer’s journey:
from this world of sin to the kingdom of glory—a journey.
which I hope you will travel, Frank. But what brings you
here to-day? Your mother is not worse than common, is
shor” 2

No; she’s about as usual. I’ve come, squire, on a bu:
ness I don’t like at all. Hugh Thompson, Jim Savage, and
Ben Stiles, have agreed to rob your melon-patch to-night j
and they wanted me to be one, but I refused, and threatened
if they didn’t give it up I'd tell you. They wouldn’t listen
to me, and so I thought I ought to let you know.” =

“You've done right, and I’m much obliged to you. Ab,
they’re sad fellows. [ve talked to them often, and tried alt





56 THE YOUNG TEMETERS.

I could to persuade them to mend their ways; but thoy
only laugh, and get more headstrong every day. So they
mean to steal my water-melons, do thiéy? I don’t think they
will. You see, Frank, it isn’t the melons I care for; there's
enough of ’em, and they might have as many as they can
carry for the asking. But after I've worked hard to raise
the fruit, I don’t like to lose the pleasure of giving it away,
if D’ve a mind to do so. And worse than that, if I let these
chaps steal my melons, theyll grow bolder by success, and
steal something of more value; and then my neglect will
help them on to ruin. Iwon’t have it so; they shan’t do
it; I'll fix 'em,” said the old man, throwing his huge arms
about, and pretending to look very blustering, while a sly
twinkle crept into the corners of his blue eyes, as if some
comical thought had just crossed his mind.

You won’t hurt ’om, will you ?” inquired Frank.

“Nos I nover hurt anything if I can help it. But PU
give ’em such a taste of water-melons, that the very name
shall make them feel sick as long as they live.”

Frank knew, from tho expression of the sqnire’s face, that
some very queer chastisoment was in store for the plunderers,
and he would have liked much to stay and sce the fun, only
he thought it wouldn’t do. As he was turning to leave, the
squire said to him— _

“Well, my boy, seeing you have taken the trouble to
come and tell me this, go out into the patch and pick your-
self the biggest melon you can find.”

“I thank you, sir, but if yon please I'd rather not.”
«What's the reason? I thought-you loved melons.
“80 I do, very niuch ; but I wouldn’t like you to give me.

I don’t want ’em to say you paid me for telling.”

“Whew! You're getting very nice ideas there at the
Sunday-school, I see. Maybo you're right, thongh. But
you can tako a basket of apples to your mother ” ce

«No, I think I’d better not, now. Somo other time I
will, and thank you kindly. Good day, squire.”

‘Good-by, Frank. ‘There's more in you thaw I supposed,
though I'd begun to have pretty strong hopes of you.







THE MELON-PATCH. 57

You have shown a high sense of integrity and honour, and
if you go on in this way, you'll make a first-rate man when
you grow up.”

CHAPTER IX.
THE MELON-PATCH.

Dunine the day, the squire kept busily at his occupation,
without saying anything of what he had heard, or of what
he intended todo. He appeared grave and serious as usual,
excopt that occasionally he would rub his chin with his
hand as if thinking; and then an odd kind of twitching
motion would go over his face, and pucker up the cornera
of his mouth, and pull at his eyelids till they were half
shut. Whether it was the pungent odour of the onions that
disturbed his organs, or whether certain ludicrous fancies
that had got into his head, were thus peeping out at the
windows, our young readers can guess as well as we.

‘The old gentleman had two sons living at home with him,
broad-shouldered, long-legged, stout, hardy boys, standing
more than six feet each in his stockings. Their names wero
John and William. When the young men came in from
the field in the evening, the father called them out aftor
supper to the lawn in front of the house, and told them of
the meditated invasion, and of the manner in which he pur-
posed to receive the fue. All three seemed amazingly
tickled. The father chuckled, and poked his fingers into the
ribs first of the one son and then of the other; and the sons
haw-hawed, and shook their vast frames, and twisted their
broad, good-natured countenances into all sorts of merry
contortions. When their mirth had a little subsided, they
set about their preparations. A bright fire was built in the
kitchen, and a table spread and covered with.a large quan-
tity of melons, nicaly cut into slices, of which they all par-
took heartily; and then the squire sprinkled profusely a





58 THE MELON-PATCH.

solution of tartar-emetic on tho remainder. “Then three
enormous guns were rummaged out and brought down from.
the garret. The patriarch of the lot was an old military
musket, of immense size and weight, which the squire had
borne in his youthful campaigns, and whose huge mouth
had blazed and roared over many a battle-field. The others
were ducking guns, with long barrels and wide bores. ‘These
the young men loaded with powder only, making the charge
as heavy as the stout tubes wonld bear, and ramming it
down smartly to increase the report. ‘These arrangements
completed, the squire ordered his wife and daughters to
keep up the fire, and then, calling Pompey, a mastiff of
monstrous bulk and power, he and his sons shouldered their
muskets, and departed for the scene of action.

‘The melon-patch, as Hugh had said, lay at some distance
from the house, and was concealed from it by rising ground,
and an intervening corn-ficld. It was situated at the far
ther end of this field ; and on threo sides of it, the tall stalka
of the maize shot up thick and bushy, and completely hid
itfrom view. On the other side ran a deep ditch, which had
been dug for the purpose of draining the low land adjoining,
and which, as hoavy rains had lately fallen, was now nearly
filled with muddy water. At the outer edgo of the ficld,
this ditch was cfossed by a narrow foot-bridge leading into
a pasture, and a strip of woods beyond.

Such was the spot destined to become memorable by the
oxploits of the squire. Arrived on the ground, he posted
his forees very judiciously. John he placed on the sido
next to the bridge; on the opposite side ho stationed Wil-
liam ; while he and Pompey took up their position on the
side nearest to the house. Here screened by the high corn,
they’ lay in ambush waiting the approach of the enemy.

Meanwhile Hugh and his party, stealing away from their
homes as soon as the dusk of evening had spread its obsour-
ing veil, met-at the outskirts of the village, and set forth
on their expedition. They chose a circuitous route thatled
them out of sight of any dwellings, and by which they would
come in at the back of the squire’s farm, and passing through



THE MELON-PATCH. 59

the woodland and pasture, reach the sceno of their intended
Plunder, As they were walking slong, Jim suddenly in-
quirea—

«Why, where’s Frank? Isn’t he with us?”

“No,” answered Hugh; “the chicken-hearted foller
wouldn’t come. And he talked big: too, and preached me
quite a sermon about stealing, and all that, ha! ha! hal
and said if wo didn’t promise to stay away he'd tell the
squire. But he'll not do that; he knows we'd thrash him
and he’s a great coward, as all these Sunday-school boys
are.”

“I don’t know; Frank's pretty resolute, when he's
roused.”

“Well, I don’t care if he does tell. I'm not afeared. of
the squire, nor of his big sons and his big dog neither.
V1 have some water-melons to-night, if they’re all there to
stop me.”

Soon they emerged from the woods, and came out into the
upper part of the pasture, from which the squire’s houso
could be seen.

«Look, boys,” ericd Ben. “ What a light there is in the
squire’s windows. I wonder what makes his folks stay up
so Inte to-night ?”

“Maybe Frank's told em,” said Jim, “and they're
watching for us. Let’s go back, and try it some other
time.”

“Pshaw I exclaimed Hugh, impatiently, “I thought
you'd more spunk, Jim. What if they be upt They can’t
See us from the house.” me

So they kept on through the pasture, and crossing the
little “bridge, crept cautiously to the melon-patch. In
passing the strip of corn in which John was posted, they
came so near his hiding-place, that he thought they would
certainly discover him; but they did not, Having reached
the vines, thoy got down on ti.cir hands dnd knees, and
began to feel about among the melons, and to thump them
with their fingers, in order to select, as well as they could
in the dark, the largest and ripest.



60 THE MELON-PATCH.

“O, here’s a whopper!” cried Ben. “It’s as big as &
pumpkin, and it’s real ripe too, I know, ‘cause it rings so.
dull. I can’t carry more than two such fellers as this.”

At that moment, Pompey, whom his master had restrained
with the utmost difficulty ever since the intruders made
their appearance, uttered a low growl, and rattled the corn-
leaves with his il. The boys sprang to their feet.

“ What's that?” said Jim and Ben, in a suppressed whis-
per, and shaking all over.

«0, it’s only the wind, or maybe one of the squire’s
hogs that’s got into the corn-field,” replied Hugh, in the
same stifled tone, striving to keep up his courage, but find-
ing it fast oozing away.

An instant of silence followed, when the squire, who had
fought with Indians in his youth, and-had learned to imitate
their yell, gave a tremendous war-whoop, and thundered
out—

“Thieves! Thieves! Fire, John! Shoot ’em, Bill!
Seize ‘em, Pompey !”

Whiz—z—Whang! went the old musket, fizzing at the
pan, and then going off with a noise like a cannon, and
belching out fire and smoke enough to do credit to a small
voleano. Bang! bang! went the quicker and sharper reports
of the newer pieces. Bow! wow! wow! roared Pompey,
snapping his teeth, and tearing through the corn like a
whirlwind.

“0, I'm killed! I'm killed!” screamed Jim, falling flat on
his face, “there's thre’ bullets and ever so many buck shot
gone right through me.” And there ho lay, bellowing like
a calf, till Pompey seized him by the back, tore his coat,
and covered him all over with froth from his great mouth,
and might have done him some mischief, had not the squire
éome up, afid-made the boy his prisoner.

‘Thinking in his terror only of the shortest way of escape,
Ben ran straight towards the ditch, forgetting it was there ;
and the first he knew of it was when he plumped into it up
to his neck in mud and water. Here he puffed,and floun-
dered, and tried hard to gain the opposite side, his feet









THE MELON-PATCH. 61

sticking in the soft bottom, and sinking deoper every
minute ; when William saw him, and shouted, with a loud
Jaugh—

«
‘The dog phinged in, and seizing the struggling lad by the
hair, pulled him so near the bank, that William got hold of
him and dragged him on dry land ; where he lay dripping
with slime, shivering with cold, and looking as forlorn as a
half-drowned puppy.

Hugh, though nearly as much frightened as the others,
had rather more presence of mind, and, therefore, made at
once for the bridge. John nearly caught him as he passed ;
but he managed to slip by, and to got over the bridge, and
into the pasture, with John after him. Hugh was a lithe,
vigorous Jad, and light of foot as an antelope; and fear
now Jent him speed. But ho might as well have tried to
run frony the man in the seven league boots as from the
long legs of John, On came the young giant, swinging his
great arms like the shafts of a windmill, and striding over
the ground like an avalanche. Hugh saw and heard him ;
he heard the sound of those tremendous leaps coming
nearer and nearer; he strained every muscle to its utmost
tension; his breath grew short and thick; his heart beat
like a hammer; a little farther, and the wood will be
reached—but in vain: a heavy hand is on his shoulder,
and a voice, half choked with laughter and running, says
in his ear—

“Why, Hugh, you're a smart one; but you're caught at
last; and you're not the first rogue I’ve caught, neither.”

«Is that you, John?” said Hugh, wriggling and striving
to twist himself from the strong grasp that hold him, “ O
let me go; I'l not come here any more.”

“I don’t think you will; but I’ve not done with you yet.
Father wants you all brought up to the house, and wa
always obey father.” And lifting Hugh as if he had been
an infant, he bore him back to the melon-patch.

The enemy were now all captured, and the squire and
hijs sons, collecting their prisoners, led them towards the



2 THE MELON-PaTcr.

house, Pompey marching behing, and snuffing at their legs
as if he meant to bite them. Having arrived there, the
squire compelled the Iads to go in, and placing chairs,
invited them to be seated, observing that they must be
tired after their long walk. Mrs. Goodwin and her daugh-
ters also spoke pleasantly to them, and asked them where
they had been, and why they were out so late, and whether
they wouldn’t come nearer the fire. The boys were greatly
perplexed to know what was going to.be done with them,
and would much rather have doclined all civilities ; but as
they were completely in the power of their captors, they
thought it best to comply. After thoy had boon seated
a while, the old gentleman said—

“You see, youngsters, we rather suspected some of our
friends might call on us to-night, and would like a few
melons; so we thought we would have some all cut and
ready for them. Come, draw up, and eat as much as you
please. We won’t take any, as we had them at supper.”

The involuntary visiters begged hard to be excused.
They made all sorts of objections. They did not wish any.
They had plenty at home. But as the squire persisted,
they dared not refuse. They looked round at the great
guns, and the, great dog, and the two great young men;
and would have eaten their own fingers if they had been
told to do so. ‘hey, therefore, gathered round the table,
and began to partake of tho fruit. After the first taste, they
hesitated, and glanced oddly at each other. But the squire
did the honours so courteously, and urged them to help
themselves with a manner so cordial, and yet so imperative,
that they went on swallowing the pieces of melon, till they
could hola no more. Thon the squire, releasing them,
said—

“Now, boys, you may go home; if you want any melons
again, Iet me know, and P'll have more ready for you.”

On reaching tho road, the boys ran as fast as they could,
till they were almost out of breath; then, getting a little
over their fright, they slackened their pace, and began to
rave in no measured terms. Their spite was especially





THE MELON-PAToH. 63

directed against Frank, and they made many threats of
what they would do to him.

“I know he told on us,” said Hugh, “and I'll pay him
fort; see if I don’t. What aro you lagging behind there
for, Ben? Why don’t you keep up?”

“
“Pooh! It's your ducking; you haven't got 0%
yet.”

« And I'm sick too,” said Jim.

“You! no wonder—you were so scared.”

“And warn’t you scared? I thought you looked like
it?

“Me! No, only a little surprised, that’s all.”

They walked on for a time, moving, slower and slower,
Hugh remaining silent, and seoming: very downcast. At
Jength he spoke.

«I tell you what, boys, I believe we're p'isoned ; the old
feller has put somethin’ into them melons; I thought they
tasted queer.”

“O dear! O dear !” cried the others, “Iet’s run to the
doctor's.”

But they were too ill to run. They lay down upon the
grass by’ the road-side, a good deal sick, and terribly
frightened. They supposed. they were going to die; and,
like most sinners when arrosted by the prospect of sudden
death, they were greatly alarmed in view of their pust
conduct, and made many promises to lead better lives
should they recover—promises, alas, how often made, but
how seldom kept! After a while, the distressing nausea
passed away in part, and they rose from the ground and
‘went home, fecling very weak, mean, and discomfited.







e4 THE AssAULT.

CHAPTER X.
THE ASSAULT.

Ow the next Sabbath morning, as Frank was walking quietly
to the Sunday-school, Hugh and his comrades sprang over
the fence into the lane, and encountered him. Their fright
had done them little good. Their shame and remorse had
subsided, and given place to a fecling of intense malice,
which they were determined to wreak on him who-had been
the means of defeating their wicked dosign, and exposing
them to mortification. With this view they had met since
their return from the squire’s, and concerted a plan by
which they hoped to gratify their spite ; and it was to carry
out this plan that they had now waylaid and intercepted
Frank where they knew they would at that hour be sure to
find him. Approaching with clenched fists, Hugh thus
accosted him—

* So you told the squire, did yout”

“Yes, I said I should, and I meant what I said.”

“Well, and I told you we'd lick you if you did, and now
we've come to do it.”

«You have no cause to be angry with me; I have done
you no wrong. I tried all I could to persuade you to give
up your sinful purpose, and when you wouldn’t be por-
suaded, I took the course I thought right to prevent your
acting it out, kept you from doing a wicked thing, though
I couldn't keep you from attempting it?

“But don’t you know you got us into a plaguy scrape, and
that everybody's laughing at us?”

“I did not get you into a scrape ; you got yourselves into
it, If you had listened to me, you wouldn’t have been
there at all, and nobody would have laughed. So don’t
charge me with the consequences of your own fault.”

“It’s no use talking. ‘You told the old chap, and he laid



. THE AssaULr. 65

a fine trap for us, you may be sure. He, and them ever-
lasting big boys o” his, and that monster of a dog he keeps,
got into the corn, and yelled at us like savage Injins, and
blazed at us with their guns, and might havo hit us too, if
it hadn’t been so dark. ‘Then they ketched us and dragged
us up to the house, and made us cat such a mess, ugh! it's
made me sick to think o’ melons ever since. And it’s all
along 0” your telling. So, off with your coat, and we'll soon
see which is the best man.”

Frank could hardly help smiling at this description of the
squire’s performances, but knowing it would only excite his
assailants the more, he commanded his countenance as.well
as he could, and answered—

“That you might be too much for me is very possible, as
you are three to one. But I shall not fight. I won't disturb
the quict of the Sabbath by engaging ina brawl, And it
is sinful to do it at any time; for the Saviour has said,
‘Resist not evil?”

It may surprise the reader that Frank should have been
capable of feoling such sentiments, and of expressing them
in such language, considering his former character, and the
short time since he had boen the subject of better influences.
It is true, he had not yet experienced that great spiritual
change which alone makes us the children of God, and
brings the affections and conduct into real and thorough
submission to the law of his grace. But, even before the
heart is renewed, the principles of the gospel sometimes
become so imbedded in the mind as greatly to modify its
modes of thinking. Thus was it with‘ our young friend,
Of a plastic and impressible nature when once his interest
was awakened, he had yielded himself eagerly to religious
instruction; and that instruction had rapidly improved his
knowledge, rectified his judgment, and enlightened. his
conscience, so that he clearly saw what was right, and was
resolved to adhoro to it. And of this process we think his
history by no means a solitary example.

‘His answor, made Hugh moro angry than before.

“What!” he exclaimed in afury, “You won’t fight! You

®







66” THE ASSAULT.

play 2 feller a mean trick, and then refuse to stand up to
him like a man! I always thought you a coward, and now
I know you’re one.”

“It isn’t because I’m afraid of you. Ifear God. He has
commanded us to honour his holy day ; and he has forbid-
den us to get angry, and beat and injure each other.”

“Well, we're going to thrash you, whether you'll fight or
note?

«You can strike me if you like, but I won’t strike back.
Ican’t help your doing wrong, but I'll try not to do wrong
myself.”

So saying he walked on. The others were so much sur-
prised at his conduct, that they allowed him to pass without
any attempt to molest him. But when he had gone afew
steps, and they saw that he was likely to escape them, their
rage became ungovernable. They ran after him, hooting,
and calling him all the opprobrious names they could think
of. They pelted him with dirt and mud. Several stones
were thrown, one of which struck him on the back of the
head, and Iaid open the flesh, so that his hair was matted
with blood. Poor Frank was sorely tempted. The smart
of his wound, and the sight of his clothes, his Sunday suit
too, all bespattered with filth, were very hard to bear. In-
dignation boiled within him. More than once he was on
the point of turning fiercely round, and paying his persecu-
tors in their own coin. But then the thought of how sorry
his teacher would be to know he had allowed himself. to be
drawn into a fight, and how grieved Mrs. Morton and Clara
would be to hear it, and, above all, what a great sin he
should commit against God, would cross his mind and choke
down his swelling passion.

‘His tormentors at length grew tired and left him to him-
self. He reached the school in a sad plight, his dress
stained and disordered, his face red and swollen with
weeping, and the blood oozing from the wound in his head,
and dripping down upon ‘his collar. Great surprise and
concern were expressed at his appearance. At the request
of his teacher, he related what had happened, with the oir-



THE ASSAULT. 67

cumstances which led to it, All manifested the liveliest
sympathy. Clara went up to him, and spoke to him sooth-
ingly, told him how much sho pitied him, how much she
was grieved for him, and yet how glad she was that he had
been able to command himself, and refrain from retaliating.
He was a noble fellow, she said, and she was proud of him.
‘The pain he now suffered woutd-Iast-but a little while, and
then he would have always the pleasure of remembering
that he had done right. Soft and healing fell her words on
the lacerated heart of the young martyr. They calmed his
irritated feelings, made him less sensitive to the outrage he
had received, and seemed to wipe away all its shame. He
became more collected ; and by the time that his classmates
had bandaged his hurt, and assisted him to remove, as far
as possible, the stains from his garments, he was prepared
to engage in the duties of the hour with almost his usual
composure.

Much was said that morning, both in the school and in
the church, that Frank thought appropriate to himself, and
fitted to strengthen and comfort him. But when the servico
was concluded, Mr. Seymour, thinking it possible that Hugh
and his companions might attack him agaip, and wishing
for an opportunity to converse more particularly with him,
offered to attend him home. After they had got into the
lane, where they could no longer be overheard by the
people returning from ¢hurch, he thus began—

“So, my dear boy, you had rather a severe trial this
morning, had you not?”

“Yes, sir, they used me pretty bad.”

“Do you not regret that you informed the squire of their
intention,.since it has exposed you to so much suffering 1”

“No, sir; Iam sorry they were so angry, but I am not
sorry for what I did, because I think I ought to have done
o2?



“Yes, you did right. When we know that any ono
designs to injure another, and we cannot induce him to
yelinquish the.attempt, it is clearly our duty to inform the
person against whom the wrong’ 1s intended, and to put him:



6s ‘TRE ASSAULT.

on his guard. Otherwise, we should become, by our silence,
partakers in the crime. But how did you feel while they
were treating you so cruelly ?”

“For a time I felt vory angry, and wanted to throw
stones at them as they did at me; and once or twice I
stooped down, and almost got hold of one.”

“That was wrong. There is no sin in being sensible of
abuse, or in feeling aggrieved when wo are subjectod to it;
but to desire to injure others becanso they injure us, is
contrary to the spirit of the gospel ; it is rendering evil for
evil, and is an intrusion upon the prerogative of God, who
has said, ‘Vengeance is mine; I will repay?”

“Yes, I know it was wrong, and I tried to check it, and
at last succeeded ; but it was hard work.” -

“It i often hard work for us to do what Christ com-
mands; not, however, because his commands are hard in
themselves, for his ‘yoke is easy and his burden is light ;”
but we are naturally so depraved, and so full of pride and
self-will, that anything which conflicts with these cherished
passions must necessarily cost us a severe struggle. The
difficulty lies in the corruption of our hearts, and it is a
difficulty which divine grace only can overcome.”

To this remark Frank did not immediately reply. He
had obtained sufficient knowledge of religious truth to form
correct views of what it taught in reference to, external
conduct, but he had not yet loarned “the plaguo of his own
heart?” He believed, indeed, that “ the heart was deceitful



above all things and desperately wicked,” because the Bible
said 50; but his opinion on this subject was a theory only,
and not that experimental, vital sense of it, which the Holy



Spirit produces when it convinces of sin. At length he
said—

“I Imow that wo ought not to resent affronts, because
the Scriptures forbid it. The Saviour has said, * Whosoever
shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other
also? But I do not quite understand it.”

“Perhaps not, and persons oldor and more experienced
than yourself have been equally in the dark. There are,



THE ASSAULT, 9

probably few commands of our Lord against which more
objection has been felt. ‘This arises in part from the por-
verted meaning which has Been given to thé precept itself.
Many have understood it as implying that we aro not only
to suffer injuries patiently, but even to court their repeti-
tion, But the command was not intended to be so minutely
and literally applied. It simply lays down the general
principle, that we aro to bear wrong treatment with a mild
and unrevengeful spirit. It does not teach that we may not
guard against receiving such treatment. Nor does it forbid
us to defend our lives and property, when assailed under
circumstances in which human laws are unable to protect
us. Most -persons, thus straining and distorting the roe-
quirement, look upon it as unreasonable, and as impossible
to be obeyed in the present state of society. But the chicf
cause of the opposition which it has called forth, is to be
found in the prevailing ideas and feelings of men. They
think it noble to be vindictive ; mean-spirited and cowardly
not to avenge an insult ; and the unsanctified heart, inflamed
with such passions, views with extreme repugnance a rule
of action which enjoins good for evil, blessing for cursing.”

“Why did Christ teach us to do, this?”

“Because such conduct is demanded by the very nature
of the gospel, which brings to us peace and good-will from
God, and requires us to imitate him in exercising the same
disposition towards our fellow-men. The course which it
prescribes is also the wisest and safest for ourselves. The
instances are very rare in which an individual would bo
attacked when it was known that he would not retaliate.
And in the few cases like your own, whero the unresisting
are assailed, the advantage is still on the side of forbear
ance. Do you not think that you would have been more
injured this morning, if you had undertaken to repel vio-
lence by violence ?” °

«
“And there is another view of the matter ‘yet more im-
portant. You would have placed yourself on the samo
moral level with your assailants, and have lost the power







70 LOST IX THE MOUNTAINS.

of exerting any good influence over them hereafter, should
Providence give you the opportunity. Now you stand on
very different ground, and have acquired a superiority over
them which they themsclves must acknowledge. It is thus,
by meekly enduring wrong that we conquer the wrong-
doer. ‘He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty ;
and ho that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city” Do
you feel that you should be willing to do these wicked lads
a kind service, should an occasion offer?”

“I did not this moming, but I do now.”

«Well, it may be that God has allowed you to-meet with.
this cruel persecution, in order to make you the means of
Good to its authors ; and if so, Iam sure you will acquiesce
in the ordering of ;His will who can cause even the wrath of
man to praise Him.”

By this time they had reached the door of Frank's dwell-
ing, and Mr. Seymour, bidding him an affectionate adieu,
returned to his own home.

CHAPTER XT.
LOST IN THE MOUNTAINS.

Wuen Hugh and his associates had left Frank in the lane,
after their cowardly assault upon him, they wandered about
the fields, discontented and restless. True, they had vented
their rage on the poor boy who had dared to expose their
mischievous purpose; but this did not afford them the
satisfaction they expected. Thoy felt more uncomfortable
than before. They could not stifle the unwelcome con-
sciousness that they had dono a very mean thing, and that
Frank, in refusing to fight, had shown more true courage
than they had in attacking him. The thought of the das-
tardly light in which they would appear when the transac:
tion should become known, annoyed them. ‘Their former





LOST IN THE MOUNTAINS. m

adventure had got wind, very little to their credit ; and this,
they were aware, would add indignation to ridicule. What
to do with themselves was now the question. They did
not like to loiter around the village, where they would be
exposed to the observation of people going to church or
returning from it; for a feeling of guilt and shame made
them wish to shun every eye.

As it was yet carly in the day, they finally decided to
execute a design, which they had long entertained, of pay-
ing a visit to a small lake, or pond, situated a few miles
distant among the mountains. The waters of this lake,
formed by numerous springs gushing out from the rocky
sides of tho hills around, aro very sweet and clear, and
furnish in their cool depths a favourite haunt for tho
speckled trout, which at certain periods are caught there
in large numbers. It being now the middle of September,
when the fish are most readily obtained, the boys deemed
the moment a propitious one. That it was the Sabbath,
gave them little concern ; and they had been used to having
their own way so long, that they did not mind going with-
out the consent of their parents. Hurrying back to their
homes, they collected the implements they needed, and+
wrapping up such provisions as they could conveniently
find, managed to make’ their way out of the little street,
without attracting the notice of any one, their parents and
most of the inhabitants having gone to church.

When they had left the village behind them, they pro-
coeded for a timo in silence, or exchanging only here and
there a word. Each seemed to have something on his mind
which he could not banish, but of which he was reluctant
to speak. After a while, with evident hesitation, and a shy
look round at the others, Ben said—

“I wish wo had not done what we did this morning. T
can’t leave off thinking about it.”

“‘NorI either,” replied Jim ; “it’s kind o’ haunted me ever
since. It seems to mo as if I could seo Frank now just as
he looked when we set upon him, and how he put his hand
to his head when the great stone hit him, and how he tried





72 LOST IN THE MOUNTAINS.

not to cry, though it must have hurt him very much. O,
I’m sorry we did it, and we shouldn't, neither, if Hugh
hhada’t urged us on.”

“Yes, that’s just the way with you,” said Hugh, “always
Jaying everything on my shoulders. You were as fierce as
Iwas then} but now, because you feel a little squeamish
after it’s done, you want to throw all the blame on me.”

“Folks will talk very hard about us, when they come to
know it, won’t they ?” asked Jim.

“I suppose they will; but I don’t eare if they do. We
shan’t hear them to-day at any rato; so say no more about
it,” answered Hugh gruffly, and ina tone and manner that
showed very clearly how distasteful the conversation was
to hit.

They were now drawing near the mountains, and the path
became steop and broken. They climbed one rugged ascent
after another, and crossed many a rude bridge, beneath
which wild streams from the hills leaped and tumbled in
flakes of glittering foam. The sky, which had been clear in
the morning, was beginning to be overeast ; huge banks of
clouds were rapidly gathering in tho horizon ; and the
rising wind moaned warningly among the tree-tops, and
roared in hoarso murmurs up the glens. But notwith-
standing these signs of an approaching storm, our young
adventurers pressed on. They reached at length the Inst
piece of cultivated land that lay in their way, before enter-
ing the rough and uncleared region surrounding the lake.
Calling at the farm-house, they asked for a glass of milk.
‘The owner had gone down to the village to attend church 5
but his wife was at home, having been detained by the ill-
ness of a child. She recognised them at once, and after
complying with their request, inquired, in a tone of con-
siderable surprise—

“Why, boys, what in the world are you doing up here
today? "_

© We're going to the lake to fish, Mrs. Barton,” answered
Hugh.

But don’t you know it’s the Sabbath?”







LOST IN THE MOUNTAINS. 73

«0, we don’t care for that.” .

«You ought to care. It's very sinful, and you had beter
go back at once. Besides, don’t you see there’s a storm
coming on? The wind’s been getting higher for some timo ;
and a great cloud has been hanging all the morning on the
top of the hill, and now it’s ereeping down his sides. When
he puts his cap on in that fashion, we always know what to
expect. We shall havo one of our autumn tempests cer-
tainly ; it’s about the time of the year for thom; and they
are often very long and violent up here.”

“Never mind ; we're not afraid of a little rain.”

“But it is dangerous for you to go to the lake in such
weather. There’s no road, you Imow; and the course you
must follow is so blind, and the woods are so deep and
tangled, and so full of winding ravines and precipices, that
if a storm should come on, you'll be sure to get lost, or
tumble into a gralf, or be crushed by a falling tree.”

“Get lost! ha! ha! ha! that’s a good one! Three boys
like us, with eyes in their heads, getting lost among the
mountains! Wouldn’t that be something to tell of

“ But of what use would your eyes be, if it was so thick
and foggy that you could not see ten rods before you?”

“Why, if we couldn't seo, we'd feel ; we'd find our way
out somehow, you may bo certain.”

Well, if you will go, do not stay too late; and if when
you get baci-here, you find you cannot reach home before
night, come in and Jodge with us. My husband will have
returned by that time; and though he will be very sorry to
hear how you have been spending the Sabbath, yet he'll
make you welcome to such fare as we can give you.”

«Thank you, we'll do so should it be necessary. At all
events, we'll call as we pass and let you know we haven’t got
lost.” ;

‘Turning away from the kind woman, and disregarding
her friendly admonitions, the rash youths went forward.
The slight road which had guided them thus far, terminated
here; and climbing a fence, and crossing a small strip of
stubble ground, they plunged at once into the trackless





74 Lost IN THY MOUNTAINS.

forest. Entering a narrow gorge between the hills, and
picking their way up among rocks, and gullies, and thickets
of underbrush, they toiled on towards the lake, and reached
it at last, nearly exhausted with their long tramp, and the
difficulties they had encountered. Toa mind prepared to
feelthe wonders of creation, and to traco in them the hand
of their glorious Author, the scene that burst on their view
must bave been strikingly grand and impressive. The lake
Jay encircled in A setting of mountains, that guarded it like
sentinels on every hand. From its eastern shore, the stern
monarch of the group, called Camel’s Rump, rose bold and
sheer, his bald head and jagged sides now covered with a
dense mist, rolling and billowy as an angry sea, On tho
north, west, and south, less elevated heights shot up, broken
into many separate cones by intersecting ravines. Within
this rugged belt slumbered the deep waters, looking dark
and unfathomable beneath the shadows of the low descend-
ing, clouds, and of the overhanging cliffs.

Hugh and his companions having rested a while, and
recruited their strength with a lunch, betook themselves
eagerly to their sport. Secking such spots on tho bank as
were clear of bushes, or walking out on protruding logs
where they could handle their rods more freely, they cast
their lines among the finny inhabitants. Each had soon
quite a string of the shining captives. Elated by their
success, they entirely forgot how fast the hours went by,
and heeded not the threatening: aspect of tho heavens.
@hus they continued till near sunset. In the meantime,
the omens of the storm had become more distinct and fear-
fal. The clouds that had at first skurried across the sky in
detached and flying squadrons, were now gathered into one
solid mass, overspreading the horizon. The vapours hung
Jow down the bases of the mountains; a dusky hue crept
over tho Jand; the tall pines rocked in the increasing gale;
and the first drops of the tempest fell pattering on the
faded leaves and the rippling waters. 2

Startled by the sound, the fishers looked up, and were
astonished to find how dark it had grown, and that the



Lost IN THE MOUNTAINS. 75

storm had actually commenced. Calling hastily to each
other, they collected their spoils, and started to return.
Dut in their hurry and confusion, they entered a different
ravine from that by which they came, and one that, instead
of leading to the settlements, wound far away into the
depths of the wilderness. Misled by the deepening gloom,
they perceived not their error, and pressed forward as fast
as the feeble light and the naturo of the ground would per-
mit. The rain now descended in torrents, and night set in,
rendered still more intense by a thick fog. On they groped
amid the darkness, drenched to the skin, scratching them-
selves with bushes and brambles, floundering through
swamps, wading brooks, and falling over roots and stones.
At last, completely wearied out, they stopped, and won-
dered why they yet saw no signs of the open land. After
taking breath a little, they again set forward, and continued
the struggle for hours, till their sinking frames could endure
it no longer. They wero then forced to admit that they
must have taken a false course. How they had done so,
they could not tell. Nor were they able to form any con-
jecture as to where they were, or in what direction to turn
‘to retrieve their mistake; and they feared to make the
attempt, knowing that in their uncertainty they would be
as likely to go wrong as right. ‘The rain still poured down
with unabated fury, and swollen streams began to rush
along the bottoms of the deep gorges. It became highly
dangerous to proceed, lest they should be swept away by
the rising floods, or’ be precipitated down some yawning
chasm.

In this extremity, they perceived a large rock so placed
as to afford them a partial shelter from the storm. They
crawled under it and lay down, exhausted by fatigue and
paralyzed with terror. Their situation would have been
much alleviated, could they have kindled a fire. They
might then have dried their wet clothes, and cooked, them-
selves a warm supper from the fish they had caught. But
as they had no means of doing this, they appeased their
hunger as well.as they could with tho remains of their









76 LOST IN THE MOUNTAINS.

noon-day meal, and then, huddling as closely together as
possible, stretched their shivering limbs on the damp, cold
earth.

Long and dismal was the night. The chill air and the
drenching rain made them too uncomfortable to sleep ; and
as they lay and listened to the wild sounds of the forest, a
sensation of mortal dread came over them. In every roar
of the tempest, they heard, as they imagined, the howl of
some beast of prey coming to destroy them. Tho creaking
and groaning of the trees as they swayed to and fro in the
blast; the rending and crashing, as one here and there fell
headlong to the earth ; and the noise of torrents chafing and
foaming through the rocky glens—kept their fancy busy
with dangers all the more terrible because unknown.

The morning broke at length, and they rose, hoping that
now they should be able to find their way. They ascended
a high hill, to see if they could discover the village, and
loarn how to shape their course. But the storm was yet
raging, and the heavy mists obscured the whole prospect.
‘They saw nothing but a wilderness of mountains, over which
rolled a sea of fog. Disappointed in their search, they
descended, resolved to push on till they should reach some
outlet, and thinking that progress in any direction was
better than standing still. But they were utterly bewil-
dered. How far they had wandered, or towards what point,
they knew not. As no sun was to be seen, and there were
no landmarks with which they were acquainted, they had
only their own confused faculties to guide them. Striking
into a dark, rugged glen, which, from the make of the
ground, they judged might conduct them to the open
country, they determined to follow it, little suspecting that,
like the one they had followed the night before, it led the
wrong way, and wonld bring them to no human dwelling,
until they had gone entirely round the principal mountain,
and reached the settlements on its easternslope. Ignorant
of this, they wandered on, weary and frightened, changing
their course when afraid to pursue it any longer, climbing
over rugged steeps from valley to valley, and often, from





THE-SEARCH, 07

the numerous turnings among the hills, going about almost
in a circle; while they thought themselves moving in a
straight line. As the day advanced, their hungor became
painful. The provisions which they had brought with them
were all consumed ; and as their fish, without any means of
cooking them, would have been only an encumbrance, they
had left them behind. They found a few roots and berries;
but these could give only a slight relief. Daylight once
more departed, and abandoned them to the terrors of an-
other night in the monntains! And herewe too must leave
them, while we relate what measures were in progress for
their rescue.

CHAPTER XIL
THE SEARCH.

Ow the Sabbath evening, the parents of these youths first
learned their absence. Though displeased, they felt no
serious concern, as they supposed they would be in before
bed-time. But as the night wore on, and they did not make
their appearance, they began to be very anxious. In the
morning, they sent round to all the neighbours to make
inquiries concerning them ; but no ono could give thom any
information. The storm being yet at its height, they en-
deavoured to comfort themselves by thinking that the
missing lads had been detained at some distant farm-house,
and were waiting for it to subside before they returned.
‘To cling to this hope was all they could do; for they were
utterly at a loss to know whither they had gone, or where
to look for them.

In-the afternoon, however, Mr. Barton came down from
his place among the hills. ‘ His wife had informed him of
the visit of the boys, and of their having started for the
Jake ; and as no one had seen them pass on their way back,
his apprehensions were awakened, and he had ridden all



78 TE SEARCH. |

the way through the rain to ascertain whether they had
returned. His statement filled the little hamlet with the
utmost alarm. It was evident that they had been overtaken
by the storm, and had lost their way in the dark labyrinth
of the mountains, where, unless help could reach them,
they must inevitably perish with hunger. The news spread.
rapidly, and soon a group of men collected to devise means
for their rescue. Some were for setting out at once; but as
it was now late, and a night search through the mountains
would be useless, it was decided by the larger and more
judicious portion to dofer the undertaking until the follow-
ing day. In order to ensure success, it was deemed requi-
site that there should be a sufficient number to scour the
remotest, corners to which it was possible that the wanderers
might have strayed ; and therefore it was determined to
raise the whole neighbourhood, and to invite as many as
could go, to meet early the next morning, ‘equipped for the
expedition, and prepared to remain out as long as might
be necessary.

‘That evening, several mounted messengers left the village
in different directions, and rode furiously away amidst the
pelting storm. Some spurred through the hills; others
galloped along the river road. They were clad in thick
shaggy over-coats, with oil-cloth caps on their heads; and
each carried in his hand a Jong, straight, tin horn, which ho
blew- waS something indescribably solemn in those shrill, piercing
Plasts, as they roso wailingly on the night air, and mingled
“with the hoarse uproar of the gale. The tenants of many a
\farm-house, sitting around their kitchen fire, and listening

the splash of the rain on the roof, or the whistling of the

ind as it shook the casements, were roused by the clatter-
ing of hoofs coming at full speed along the stony road;
then, distinct above the howling of the tempest, came the
summons—

* To—o—t, toot, toot, toot—to—o—t. Boys lost in the
mountains! Boys lost in the mountains! Meet at Green
Hollow—six o’clock—to-morrow morning.”



THE SEARCH, 79

And on flew the foaming steed and’ tho dripping horse-
man, to carry the same startling message to more distant
dwellings.

‘Wherever these riders came, they left excitement and
‘Dustle behind them. Preparations were at once commenced.
Horses were caught and fed, saddles and bridles examined,
guns inspected and cleaned, provisions cooked, clothing and
blankets brought forth, and everything got ready that could
bo needed by men about to go on a search so toilsome.

At the appointed hour, a strong party assembled in Green
‘Hollows composed chiefly of hardy, stalwart mountaineers,
to whom a tramp among the wild crags and glens was as
the breath of their nostrils. Among them were the fathers
of the three lads, Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Seymour, Squire
Goodwin, and his two sons. Nearly all carried rifles or
fowling-pieces. Pompey accompanied his master; and
several of the men had with them large deer-hounds trained
to follow the woods. Mrs. Morton, thinking old Peter's
limbs too stiff for such service, had chosen Frank as her
deputy; for though young, he was very athletic, and his
former roaming habits had made him an excellent woods-
man. Her pony stood at the door ready for him to mount;
and she herself was busily engaged packing into a knap-
sack such articles as she thought he might want. At this
moment Clara came bounding into the room, carrying in
her hand a large woollen cap of a bright red colour, which
Peter was accustomed to wear in the winter.

“Here, Frank!” she cried, holding it up, and laughing,
“here is something to keep your ears warm when you lie
down in your camp at night.”

“An excellent idea, Clara,” said Mrs. Morton, taking the
cap and putting it into the sack, “this will be very comfort
able; I wonder I did not think of it.”

“TI only thought of it just now, and ran to fetch it. But,
Frank,” she added, “you must not wear it in the day-time,
for if you go stalking through the bushes with such a red
top-piece, some of the men will take you for a wild turkey,
and give you a shot?



80 THE SEARCH.

“There are no wild turkeys in the Green Mounting
now,” answered Frank.

“An! but they would think you were some stray one.
And, Frank,” she continued, “if you see any Indians up
there in the woods, tell them to bring me some nice baskets
and moccasins, and Pll buy them.”

«I shan’t see any Indians; they’re all gone too, like the
turkeys. But maybe I'll sce a bear, and if I do I shall tell
him to come, and if he won't come himself, I'll bring you his
skin.”

“No, no. Ido not want him to come, and I don’t want
his skin. I don’t like bears, they are such ugly beasts; and,
Frank, if yousee one, do not go nigh him.””

Frank said he would be very careful, and only go nigh
enongh to give him Miss Clara’s compliments. Mrs. Morton
also entreated him to be cautious, and not to run into
aangor, adding that if any mishap should befall him, she
could never forgive herself for sending a mere Ind on such
a business, and that even now she would not venture to do
it, had not the squire promised to keep special watch over
him.

‘The cavalcade now mounted and sot out. After riding
about two hours, they reached the residence of Mr. Barton,
where, os the nature of the ground they were to oxplore
rendered it impossible to take their horses further, they
turned them loose into a pusture, depositing the saddles and
bridles in a barn. Shouldering their packs and rifles, they
proceeded to the lake by the same route which Hugh and
his companions had taken. Arrived there, they halted for
tho purpose of completing their arrangements, and deter-
mining the course and method of the search.

‘They divided their company into two bands. The first
consisted of the squire and his sons, the father of Hugh,
Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Seymour, Frank, and six others, making
thirteen in all. To this the squire was chosen leader. Tho
other, comprising an equal number, with tho fathors of Bon
and Jim, selected as its chief an old experienced woodsman.
whose name was Williams. As there were no means of



Te Seance. “BL

‘ing which way the lost ones had gone, it was
decided that Williams’ party should make a circuit round
the northern end of the lake, and Goodwin’s round the
southern, and then, taking an easterly direction, procecd
along the base of Camel's Rump, until they met on its
opposite slope. It was agreed, moreover, that as soon as
either party had found the wanderers, messengers should
be detached to inform the other. Certain rules were also
adopted for the guidance of each division. Every quarter
of an honr the leader was to give two quick blasts of a
horn, to point out his position, and- provent individuals
from straying. Three blasts in succession were to be the
signal for encamping; and threo guns, fired at intervals of
@ minute, were to denote that the boys had been found.
These preliminaries having been settled, the bands departed
on their respective routes. As our narrative connects itself
with the southern party, their fortunes alone will be re-
hearsed,

‘The storm had ceased when they set forth, though heavy
masses of clouds still shrouding the sky, prevented them
from marking their course by the sun. Yet, as they wore
supplied with a good compass, they had no difficulty in
ascertaining the direction they wished to follow. Moving
along the lake till they reached its southern shore, they
entered the forest, and, after penetrating it to a considerable
distance, turned to the east, with tho design of exploring
the wild tract of country that stretched’ before them in that
quarter. They arranged the order of their search in such a
manner as to extend it over as wide a space as possible,
The squire occupied the centre; while.the rest spread
themselves out on either hand as far as they could, without
getting beyond the reach of the appointed signals. ‘Thus
they went on, blowing their horns, calling to their dogs,
shouting to each other, and startling the wild tenants of tho
woods with sounds so strange and unusual.

‘Thoir progress was necessarily slow, for the ground was
ragged and difficult. Sometimes their way Jed them along
low, marshy swales, overgrown with thickets and matted

2





82 THE SEARCH.

brake, Sometimes they had to climb heights so steep, that
they wore forced to drag themselves up by grasping hold
of bushes and saplings, the loose stones and gravel sliding,
from under their feet at every step. ‘ Now, on the uplands,
their path would be obstructed by wind-rows, or strips of
the forest through which the hurricane had swept, and
piled up the prostrated timber into an almost impenetrable
barrier. And now a monntain torrent would lie in their
course, which they could pass only by felling a tree across
it, and crawling over the precarious bridge on their hands
and knees. Against all these obstacles they struggled
onward during the day, making only one short pauso for
needful refreshment.

‘Towards evening the sky cleared up, and the sun, shining
out amidst golden clouds, gave promise of fair weather. As
the afternoon was now far advanced, the squire thought
it time to call in his scattered band, that they might prepare
for the night. Having selected a suitable place for a camp,
he ascended a neighbouring hill,and sounded the summons.
‘The blast, thrice repeated, rang out sharp and clear in the
pure air of that elevated region, and, floating in mazy
vibrations over the leafy expanse, died away among the
distant windings of the mountains. Scarcely had a moment
elapsed when, from as many different points, a dozen
answering blasts came back, swelling and reverberating
from side to side, till rock and stream, and cliff and hollow,
seemed all alive with the leaping echoos. Shouting to the
men to join him in the valley below, the leader descended,
and began leisurely to survey the ground while waiting
their appearance.

‘They soon arrived, showing in their soiled garments and
jaded looks no doubtful marks of the labour they had
‘undergone. Many carried strings of pheasants that they
had shot; and John and William came londed with the
carcass of » fat buck which the rifle of the former had just
brought down. But Frank bore the most procious trophy.
In @ swampy ravine, abont half a mile back, ho had found
«@ fragment of the skirt of a coat, which, from its.colour and





. CAMPING OUT. 83

pattern, he at once recognised as belonging to the one worn.
by Hugh on the morning of the assanlt. He related also
that he had seen in the Soft bottom the foot-prints of the
three boys going eastward, and that they must have passed
since the rain, us the marks were quite fresh. This intelli-
gence greatly encouraged the party, and they went about
their arrangements for the night, cheered by the assurance
that they were on the track of the wanderers, and would
probably come up with them early the next day.

CHAPTER XIII.

CAMPING our. ’
‘Tue spot in which the squire proposed to encamp his party
was well chosen for the purpose. Tt was.situated in a sort
of glade, or open space, at the bottom of a deep valley
through which flowed a sparkling brook over a bed of
smooth white stones. The ground, considering the amount
of rain that had fallen, was tolerably dry, clear of under-
‘brush, and covered with a short greon moss. Several large
Dirches and other trees grew around, and a monstrous elm,
thrown down by the tempest, stretched its huge bulk along,
the edge of the stream. On this side, the glen was shut in
by a high ledge of rocks that rose almost perpendicularly
like a wall. ‘The opposite acclivity was more gradual, the
Lill swelling up in a rounded form, mantled with a thick
growth of stunted firs and pines.

Our wayfarers were charmed with this snug recess, and
began at once to provide the necessary accommodations.
‘The first thing to be done was to build a fire. Some of tho
men went in search of dead trees, whose limbs, seasoned in
the eun, they cut into fuel. Frank found two or three dry
pine knots, and splitting thom fine with o hatchet, Isid tho
pieces against the fallen elm above described; while tho





84 CAMPING OUT.

squire, with fiint and stecl, ignited a piece of touchwood,
and laying it on tho pitchy splinters, soon set them all in a
blaze. When these were sufficiently kindled, the stout
limbs wore piled on, stick after stick, armfal after armful,
until a huge firo was roaring and crackling along the trunk
of the old elm, lighting up with its flashes the dark face of
the rocks, and the shadows of the surrounding foliage.

‘The next step was to construct their camp. As a very
Jarge one was required to shelter so many, a piece of
ground, about twenty feet Iong and ten wide, was marked
out between the fire and the ledge of rocks, and carefully
freed from whatever rubbish encumborod it. Along the
outer sides of this space, they drovo a numbor‘of crotched
posts, making those in front higher than those in the rear,
20 that the roof might slope like a shed. In the forks of
these uprights they placod four strong poles, and then laid
crosswise upon these a great number of smaller poles, at
short distances from each other. Having proceeded thu:
far, they judged it best to divide their remaining labours.
John and William applicd themselves to skinning and
autting up the deer; and Frank was set-to pluck the
pheasants, and get them ready for the spit. Tho rest went
down the glen to a grove of young hemlocks, and returned
with as many of the clipped branches as they could carry.
These they spread thickly over the roof of the camp, the
small, fanlike twigs forming a covering almost as impervious
as thatch. They also set larger branches slantingly agai#tst
the back and ends, leaving tho front open to the fire. Then
they brought several loads more of the boughs, and strip-
ping them very fine, strewed the soft, feathery leaves all
through the inside, to a depth of six or eight inches; thus
converting the whole enclosure into a fragrant and delicious
couch. Ss

Having finished their lodging place, they commenced
cooking their suppers. Although their packs contained a
good supply of cold meats and. other kinds of eubstantial
food, yet the more dainty fare which the forest had sent
them rendered these stores rather unattractive; and select-





CAMPING OUT.

85
ing only a few loaves of, bread and some light articles,
they reserved the remainder for a time wien gamo might
not be so-plenty. Using as skewers long sticks with many
sharpened prongs, they broiled their venison steaks and
wild fowl over the hot coals. Some made tea or coffee, which
they drank from tin porringers; but most preferred to
quench their thirst with the pure cold water of the brook
that gurgled and flashed at their fect. Well might the
sated epicures of cities envy this primitive repast, to which
hard labour and the fresh mountain air gave a relish that
the most refined cookery and the richest condiments would
seok in vain to impart.

‘When their meal was ended, and the fire replenished with
fresh fuel, they sat down on the soft boughs in front of the
camp, to rest themselves after the exhausting toils of the
day. The deep solitude of the scene and.of the hour was
well_fitted to inspire serious thought. The night was
cloudless ; and the moon, now nearly full, had risen above
the eastern heights, and was shedding its beams over the
valley, marking the open spaces with streaks of silver, and
tinging with its pale, flickering light the brown sides of the
crags, and the gloom of the emboworing woods. Silence
reigned around, interrupted only by the low murmur of the
stream as it glided along its pebbly bed, the plaintive note
of the whip-poor-will, or the hooting of « solitary owl from
his perch in the top of a decayed tree. The circumstances
“which had brought the party into their present position
harmonized with the solemn mood awakened by the time:
and the place, and tended to increase it. After they had
eat musing for a while, Frank said to Mr. Soymour—

“L-wish those poor boys had such a warm fire and nice
supper to-night as we have. It makes me feel very sorry
to think how cold and hungry they must be.”

“I wish so too,’ answered Mr.Seymour. “Though they
have been very wicked, Icannot but pity them. I am afraid
they must havo suffered a great deal by this time. Their
case strikingly illustrates the statement of the Bible: ‘The
way of transgréssors is hard?”





86 CAMPING OUT.

“ Doing wrong,” said Mr. Lawrence, joining in the con-
versation, “is attended with much greater discomfort even
in this life than doing right. The path of duty ia sometimes
yugged and toilsome; but the path of sin is far more so.
And I think this is especially true of the sin of Sabbath-
breaking. I have frequently had occasion to notice that
excursions for amusement on the Lord’s day not unfre-
quently end in some disaster, as if God meant to frown
particularly on such desecration. The case of these lads
is only one of many similar instances that I have known.”

“Well, I think they deserve all they have suffered,” said
John Goodwin. “Thoy ought to be punished for abusing
Frank as they did, and then running away to the Iake to
fish on Sunday. It would have served them right, if, instead
of coming up here. after them, we had left them to find
their way back as they best could.’

“John,” replied his father, “what you say may be just,
but it is not. dictated by a Christian spirit. ‘That was not
the way in which our Saviour acted. When we had all
wandered from God by disobedience, he did not leave us
to the consequences of our folly, but ‘came to seek and to
save that which was lost.’ ”

“That is a very interesting thought,” said Mr. Lawrence,
“and one that has often occurred to me during the day.
The business in which we are now engaged seems well
calculated to remind us of our Lord’s mission into this
world, to bring a lost and alienated race back to God, and
restore it to the enjoyment of his favour. What astonishing
grace was manifested in this stupendons achievement of
Divine love! We had no claim to mercy. It was of free
choice that we forsook our Father's house, and wont forth
into the howling wilderness of sin; and most justly might
he have left us to wander on in darkness and guilt, until we
plunged into everlasting perdition, But, moved by com-
passion for our misory, ho gave his only begotten Son
to seek and to save ns; and that only begotten Son laid
aside the glory of his Godhead, and came down from heaven
on tho’ sublime errand of kindness. He ‘came to dwell in





CAMPING OUT. 87

He came to endure poverty, opposition, and
He came to fulfil the law which we had broken,
and by sutisfying its penalty with his own blood, to remove
every barrier which it interposed to our return to God.
Having thus opened the way for our recovery, he rose from
the dead, and ascended to the right hand of the Majesty on
high, there to plead the merits of his atoning sacrifice, and
to send forth his Word and Spirit to incline our hearts to
accept his salvation.”

“And how affectingly,” added Mr. Seymour, “does he
describe, in the parable of the lost sheep, the pity which
led him to undertake the work of human redemption, and
the satisfaction which he feels when a strayed and erring.
soul brought home to his fold. *What man of you,
having an hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not
leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness, and go after
that which is lost, until he find it? And when he hath found
it, he layeth it on his shoulders rejoicing. And when he
cometh home, he calleth together his friends and neigh-
bours, saying unto them, Rejoice with me, for I have found
my sheep which was lost. I say unto you, that likewise joy
shall be in heayen over one sinner that repenteth.’”

“Yes,” replied Mr. Lawrence, “the tenderness of Christ
towards such sinful and worthless creatures as we are is
most wonderful, and should melt us in lowly contrition
before him, And while we humbly rely on his merits for
the pardon of our own offences, let us follow his steps in
endeavouring to reclaim the rebellious and the outcast.
‘We are now secking to rescue those whom their own fro-
wardness has led into trouble. May we not hope that, in
answer to our prayers, the Holy Spirit will make tho distress
which they have thus brought on themselves, the means of
opening their eyes to the criminality of their conduct, and
leading thom to true repentance ?”

In this manner they continued to converse for a time, the
whole company listerring with fixed and pleased attention ;
some, because they felt a deep personal interest in the sub-
ject, and others because they respected religion, and ac-

our nature.
yeproach.





88 CAMPING OUT.

knowledged its nocessity, though they wore yet strangers
to its vital power. ;

At length, as all were extromély weary, they prepared to
seek the needful repose of sleep. Before doing this, how-
ever, they united in a hymn of praiso to God, who had
guided and protected them during a day of so much labour
and anxiety. For this purpose, they chose the following
beautiful lines of Addison



“Tho Lora my pasture shall prepare,
And foed me with a shepherd's caro;
His presence shall my wants supply,
‘And guard me with a watchful eye
My noonday walks he shall attend,
‘And all my raldnight hours defend.

‘When in the sultry globe I faint,
Or on the thirsty mountain pant,

‘To fertile valea and dewy mead

‘My weary, wandering steps he lends;
‘Whore peaceful rivers, coft and slow,
Amid the verdant landscape flow.



‘Though in a bare and ragged way,
‘Through devious, lonely wilds T stray,
‘Thy presence shall my pains begulle:

‘The barren wilderness shall smilo,

‘With mdden green and herbage crowned
And streams shall marmur all around."



All then knelt down, and Mr. Lawrence offered a short,
fervent prayer, thanking God for his unnumbered blessings,
besccching him to pardon their sins for Christ’s sake, and
still to grant them his upholding caree Nor were the poor,
misguided wanderers forgotten. Most earnest was the
petition presented on their behalf, that God would be
merciful to them, and not only shield them from danger,
and restore them in safety to their friends, but lead their
feet into the way of holiness and peace. 7

This done, they once more renewed their fire, supplying
it with such a quantity of fuel as would keep it burning
brightly through the night ; and then wrapping their blan-
kets around them, they Jay down on their leafy couch
heneath the watching moon and stars, fecling that the



rouxp. # 89

unslumbering eye of the All-secing couid guard them as
securely amid the wild solitudes of the mountains as in
their own beloved homes.



CHAPTER XIV.
FOUND.

As soon as the first gleams of morning began to show
themselves in the east, the wayfarers awoke. Their sleep
had been sound and undisturbed, and they rose refreshed
and invigorated for the exertions that yet lay before them.
Baking together the still glowing brands of their last
night's fire, and heaping on fresh wood, they prepared a
hearty breakfast from the meat of the deer, not forgetting
to reserve several large slices to take with them ready
cooked for the famished boys when they should be found.
‘The remainder, together with such heavy luggage as they
thonght they should not’ need, they concealed safely under
the boughs of their camp-bed, hoping to accomplish their
object so as to return in the course of tho day. Then, after
a brief prayer by Mr. Seymour, asking God’s blessing and
direction, they set forth’ to renew their search.

Led-by Frank, they first went back tothe spot where he
had scen the footprints on the preceding evening. They
soon discovered them, and found no difficulty in tracing
them up for a considerable distance along the wet bottom:
of the gulley. But after a while the trail diverged into
higher and drier ground, where they were no longer able
to follow it. They then spread themselves out as they had
done the day before, holding as nearly as they could the
direction of the foot-marks when last observed. In this
manner they continued to move forward, clambering over
hills, threading valleys, beating thickets, and searching
into every dark and hidden nook, till the sun had risen high
towards the meridian, ‘They were now far advanced along



‘90 FOUND.

the southern border of the mountain, and had reached a
point where the outlying spurs and intervening hollows
began to trend round in a line with its eastorn base.

Frank, to whom Pompey, as if guided by some peculiar
instinct, had attached himself all the morning, was at this
time picking his way up a deep, narrow ravine, overhung
by beetling precipices. At length he came to its head,
where a tall perpendicular cliff, shooting down right across
it, seemed to bar all further progress. While looking:
around for some break or opening in the rocks, the appear
ance and movements of Pompey arrested his attention.
The dog stood with hair erect, and eyes distended and
flashing, gazing intontly at a clump of high bushes that
grew near the foot of the crag. Uttering a lond growl, ho
bounded off towards the thicket, but, as if repelled by some
mysterious dread, instead of entering it, he began to ran
rapidly round in a circle, snuffing the ground and barking
futiously. Frank was a good donl startled. He feared
almost as much as Pompey to go into the bushes, lest they
might contain some wild animal, perhaps a bear or a pan-
ther, that would spring. suddenly upon him. But being
naturally a brave boy, he plucked up his courage, and
advanced slowly into the cover, cocking his gun and grasp-
ing it firmly in one hand, while he parted the thick branches
with the other: He had not proceeded far before he dis
covered the lost boys lying partly covered with leaves and
brush behind an old log. At first he thought they were
dead, so haggard and ghastly were their faces, and 0
motionless their posture. But at this moment, Hugh, dis-
turbed by the barking of the dog, raised his head and
looked around with a frightened and bewildered glanco,
till his eyo fell on Frank, when, crying in a faint voice, # 0
Frank! is that you!” he turned to his comrades, and shak-
ing them with all his remaining.strength, exclaimed, “Jim!
Ben! wake up—here’s Frank—we're found, wo’re saved !”
And the poor, starving Ind, overcome by the sudden hope
of deliverance, bowed his face in his hands, and wept like
an infant.





FOUND. on

Frank was beside himself with joy. He clapped his
hands, he hallooed, he leaped up and down like one frantic.
Enger to comnsunicate the glad intelligence to the rest of
the party, he caught up his gun and fired it off; thon eciz-
ing his horn, he began to blow with might and main, stop-
ping now and then, not to take breath, but to shout; aiid
thus he went on blowing and shouting, shouting and blow-
ing, til the dark ravine rang and echoed with the sounds.

‘The squire was on the further side of the ridge that bor-
dered the glen on the right, and his two sona just over the
brow of the opposite one. All three heard Frank's signal,
and as soon as they came near enough to learn their import,
they fired their guns as a token to their associates, and
hurried to the spot as fast as they could make their
way down the rugged face of the rocks. The others
soon followed with hasty steps, and in the highest excite-
ment.

The feelings manifested by Hugh's father were inde-
scribably touching. He was at the extreme end of the line
of search, when he heard the three successive reports which
had been agreed upon as the signal that the boys wero
found. Forgetful of all else, ho rushed with headlong
speed in the direction of the firing. A deep bog lay in his
way, but he plunged through it, unconscious that he often
sunk to his knees in the treacherous mire. He waded tor-
rents, leaped across chasms, flung himself down frightfal
steeps. His clothes were rent, his limbs bruised by many’a
fall, his hands cut by the sharp edges of rocks, his faco
lacerated and bleeding. Yet he knew it not—know nothing
but that his child was found. Arrived at the place where
his son lay, he clasped him in his arms, and sobbing ont,
“My boy! my boy!” fell fainting by his side.

‘The bystanders soon recovered him, and then procecded
to give more particular attention to the state of the rescued
lads. Their condition, as might bo. expected, was most
pitiable, Their garments were soiled and torn; and their
feet, bursting out through their rent shoes, were wounded
and swollen. For nearly throe days they had not tasted









92 FouND.

food, and they had become so weakened by exposure and
famine, as to be scarcely able to stand. On the preceding
afternoon they had xeached the spot where they had been
found; and perceiving their way shut up in the direction
they were going, and feeling themselves too much spent
either to climb the cliff or to retrace their steps down the
glen, they had crept into the thicket, as affording the best
shelter they could find for passing the night. In the morn-
ing, their limbs were so stiff and sore, and their strength so
exhausted, that it became impossible for them to renew
their wanderings. Several times they attempted to rise
and move forward; but their heads grew giddy; a deadly
sickness camo over them ; and abandoning all further effort,
they lay down in despair to dic. In this state, they soon
sunk into that overpowering sleep in which Frank had dis-
covered them.

Raising them up, their deliverors administered to each a
few spoonfuls of cold strong coffee, which they had brought
with them for the purpose. When this had revived them
a Little, they were supplied with moro solid nutriment, in
very small quantities, and at short intervals. In giving
thom food, it was necessary to use great caution at first,
since they were so debilitated by long fasting, that sudden
repletion might have beon fatal. As they were too feeble
to walk, litters were made for carrying them, by weaving
the branches of trees around light, slender poles, designed
to serve ag handles for the bearers. Strewing these with
coats and garments, and placing the lads in them, the whole
hand, with the exception of two of their number who were
sent forward to inform the other party, set out on their
return to the camp, where they arrived about the middle of
the afternoon.

Here they proposed to remain during the night, as it
was too late to think of proceeding to the settlements.
Laying the boys carefully on the bed of fragrant hemlock,
they bathed their inflamed fect with cold-water, chafed
their benumbed and weary limbs, and applied such other
pstoratives as their experience suggested and their means





FOUND, 93

could furnish. Then, building a great fire, they gave them
hot tea and coffee, anda nice supper of broiled venison, all
juicy and steaming from the coals. Soothed by the tender
nursing, and invigorated by the nourishing food, the tired
ramblers soon fell into a sweet and refreshing slumber.
‘That evening, as the company knelt once more in prayer,
they remembered the sleeping ones before thom; and with
the warm thanks that went up to God for their rescue, was
mingled-a fervent supplication, that their deliverance from
physical danger might be but the prelude and the type of
their deliverance from the far more tremendous perils of
irreligion and-sin.

In the morning, the objects of their care were found to be
80 far recovered by food and rest as'to be able to walk with
considerable ease; and, therefore, the party, as soon as
thoy had breakfasted, left their encampment, and proceeded
by moderate stages towards their homes. As they moved
leisurely along, the three lads appeared very grave and
serious. They spoke but little; and it was noticed that
whenever any allusion was made to the scenes through
which they had passed, a perceptible shudder would go
over them. They were evidently oppressed by a sense of
the great danger from which they had escaped; and that
they were very grateful to their deliverers, especially to
Frank, was seen in the manifest preference for his com-
pany, which they showed by keeping as near to him as they
could. As he had been the first to discover thom, they
seemed to regard him as the chief instrument of their
resoue ; and this, contrasted with their cruel abuse of him,
appeared to affect thom deeply, and to draw thom towards
him with strong attachment.

In this:manner‘it happened that, on one occasion during
the journey, they were separated from all the others, except
Frank and Mr. Seymour. Tho latter, who never neglected
a favourable opportunity of doing good, commenced a con
versation with them, in the hope of making their late ad-
venture the means of impressing religious truth on their
minds, z .







94, FOUND.

“Well, my* young friends,” he said, “you have had a
pretty severo time of it, have you not!”

“Yes, sir,” answered Hugh, “I never want such another.
The fright, and cold, and hunger were terrible. © thoso
Blaha silt. incintatas thisy will Rasat sas aw Long a8'T
ive.”

“They must have been dreadful indeed, and we all felt
for you very much, knowing what you must suffor. And
this makes me the more anxious that the hardships which
you have undergone shonld not be without some salntary
result. Will you be offended if I tell you ao few things
which they seem to me strongly to suggest?”

‘The boys assured him that, as he had been so kind to
thom, they would hear with pleasure whatever ho might
wish to say. Mr. Seymour then continued :—

“ Your recent experjence appears to me a striking emblem
of the state and conduct of unconverted sinners. Man has
lost himself by transgression. -He is an alien from his
Maker—outcast from heaven and happiness—bewildered in
the-mazes of orror—following the devices of his own cor-
yupt heart—and liable, every moment, to fall into the
abyss of destruction. This is naturally the condition of all
—of cach one of ourselves—until brought by Divine graco
from the ignorance and folly of our ways to the wisdom of
the just. But, as there wore those who went forth to sock
and recover you, so there is One who searches after the
wanderer from God. Jesus Christ has come to bring. back
the exiles, to reclaim the outcasts, to save the lost. He
Alls you by the monitions of. his providence, by the teach-
ings of his Word, by the drawings of his Spirit. If you
hear his voice, and go to him in repentance and faith, ho
will lead you away from the paths of the destroyer, and
guide you in safety and joy to his eternal home. But if
you refuse to listen to his invitations, yon will continue to
plunge deeper and deeper into sin, and finally sink into
everlasting ruin. Thus Jehovah by his prophet uttered
the warning of old: ‘Hear yo, and give ear; be not prond ;
for the Lord hath spoken. Give glory to the Lord your





vounp, , 96

God, before he cause darkness, and before your fect
stumble upon the dark mountains, and while ye look for
light, he turn it into the'shadow of death, and make it
gross darkness You remember woll, when, after long
striving to find your way, it hecame evident that you had
missed it, what horror the conviction brought, and with
what agony the words, ‘We’ro lost!’ burst from your lips.
But far more awful is it to be lost in the delusions of unbe-
lief and impenitence ; and unspeakably. more awful still
will it be to take up at last the lamentation, ‘Lost! lost for
ever 1?” -

To this solemn appeal neither of the boys made any
reply ; but the nervous working of their features, and the
tears that came into their eyes, proved that they did not
hear altogether without emotion.

In the course of the afternoon, the party arrived at the
place where they had left their horses. Here they all
mounted and rode down to the village, which they reached
about sunset. Great was the excitement produced by their
coming. As the news spread, the whole population flocked.
together to welcome back the wanderers. Not a whisper of
reproach was uttered ; not a reference made to the sin and
folly of which they had been guilty. All shook them
warmly by the hand, and with kind looks and words con-
gratulated them on their safe return. But who shall de-
soribe what their mothers felt? The long agony of suspense
was over; and as they clasped their sons in their arms,
tears and sobs alone told the deep transport of their hearts.
Attended by a group of sympathizing friends and neigh-
pours, each led her child to her own house, “The crowd
then dispersed, and night and silence settled down upon

hamlet.

e next day, as Frank was engaged in his customary
vocations, he was surprised by a visit from the three lads.
They saluted him very cordially, and he returned their
greeting with equal warmth. After conversing a few
minutes, Hugh, who seemed to have been deputed a3
spokesman for the rest, said—





96 rouxp.

“We have come to tell you, Frank, how sorry we are
for what we did to you last Sunday morning. We knew at
tho time that you wero right and we wrong, though we
were too angry to own it. But your kindness since has
made us heartily ashamed of our conduct, and we sincerely
ask your pardon.”

«I forgive you most cheerfully, and let us now be
friends,” replied Frank, grasping their hands, and fairly
wooping for joy.

80 we wish to be. And, Frank, we mean to leave
off our bad ways as you have done; and we have made up
our minds to go with you to the Sunday-school, and wo
should be glad, too, to have Mr. Seymour for our teacher.
We like him very much. We have thought a great deal of
the advice he gave us coming home; and what he said
about ‘stumbling upon dark mountains, and being ¢ lost—
lost—for ever!’ has rung in our ears ever since.”

Frank was delighted at this proposal, and still more at
the fecling which appeared to dictate it. He did all he
could to encourage and strengthen them in their resolution,
and told them how. rejoiced he should be to have their
company.

Accordingly, meeting him on the following Sabbath, not
far from the vory spot whore they had stoned him only a
week before, they wenf*with him to the school. Their
appearance created a great sensation. All were alike
pleased and astonished. The superintendent received them
in the most affectionate manner, and, at their request, con-
signed them to Mr. Seymour’s caro. And was not Frank a
happy boy then? Did he not feel, as he saw his former
persecutors sitting so quiet and friendly by his side, that
forbearance was the surest way to conquer, and that kind-
ness was mightier than wrath? And did not little Clara’s
eyes look brighter than ever at the sight? Our young
readers know they did, though none of them were there

to seee



‘THE BURIED SEED COMING UP. - oF

CHAPTER XV.
THE BURIED SEED COMING UP.

Axotner winter and spring had passed, and the early
summer had come again, with its greén woods and. fields,
and its bursting flowers. During the interval which had
thus elapsed, the subjects of our narrative had continued to
study the Scriptures, and to receive clear and faithful
instruction in the great truths which they unfold. ‘Tho
effects of this training wero visible in the correct deport-
ment of those who had before béon disorderly, and in the
advancing knowledge of all. Bat as yet the work was
outward only. There were no decided tokens of that in-
ward renewal which is the grand end of religious culture.

For some time, however, a growing interest in the con-
cerns of the soul had become manifest. An unusual anxiety
for the conversion of their pupils animated the teachers.
With stronger faith, and more frequent and importunate
prayer, they sowed the heavenly seed. With increasing
urgency, they admonished, exhorted, pled. Soon indica-
tions of good began, to appear; and often, as they pressed
home upon the objects of their solicitude the warnings and
invitations of the gospel, the heaving sigh and the starting
tear would tell that the germs of spiritual life were stirring
and quickening in their bosoms.

Nor were these signs of promiso confined to the Sunday-
school. They gradually spread through the entire com-
munity. The members of the church were roused into
uunwonted activity. Meetings for prayer and mutual exhor-
tation were more fully attended, and breathed a deoper and
livelier zeal, The lukewarm were rovived, the sluggish
kindled into fresh energy, backsliders searched out and
reclaimed. The pastor, in his addresses from the pulpit, and
im-his visits from house to houso, laboured unremittingly. to

e



98 THE BURIED SEED COMING UP.

awaken the people to a senso of oternal things, and warned
the wicked ‘to flee from the wrath to come, with peculiar
earnestness and power. A striking solemnity, a still and
brooding thoughtfulness—the usual precursor of spiritual
showers—hung over the whole place ; a thoughtfulness, that
not only showed itself in the Sabbath assembly, but sat on
the countenances of men in their week-day walks, and
seemed almost to pervade the very air they breathed. At
Jength the cloud of mercy unlocked its treasures; and the
Jong hidden seed, fructified by the rain of the Spirit, swelled,
and sprouted, and shot up into the tender blade.

Clara was the first in whom the bud of grace expanded
into full blossom, Nurtured from hor earliest childhood in
the principles of Christian truth, she had long evinced a
tenderness of conscience, and a. sensibility to religious sub-
jects, which showed that a Divine influence was silently
‘operating on hor mind. Lately these feelings had grown
more permanent and engrossing. Eternal realities occupied
her thoughts more exclusively, and rested there with greater
force. Her views of thé holiness of God, of the justice of
his claims, of the evil of sinning against him, and of the
absolute impossibility of being saved in any other way than
by faith in the atonement of Christ, became more distinct
and powerful. Drawn by the gentle yot resistless hand of
the Celestial Sanctificr, she placed her whole trust in the
blood of propitiation, and found peace and joy in believing.
‘Well taught and seriously disposed as she had always been,
still the change wrought in her was very striking. What
had before been the result of education, of example, of
habit, now flowed from a purer and more abiding source—
from the gracions affections of a regenerated heart. She
manifested the most ardent desire to honour her Saviour,
and to lead her companions and schoolmates to seek an
interest in him ; and young as she was, her loving effurts
proved a blessing to many.

On Frank, especially, her influence was marked and
decisive. As the preceding pages have shown, he had
improved greatly under religious teaching, and had become





THE BURIED SEED COMING UP. 99

8 vory intelligent apd promising youth, exemplary in his
behaviour, mild and amiable in his disposition, and univer-
sally respected. But there he stopped. Although he had
acquired a speculative knowledge of the gospel, and often
felt tho necessity of that internal change which it demends,
his heart wasstill unrenewed. Recently, his concern on this
subject had even begun to subside. The commendations
which his excellent conduct had called forth, had tended to
nourish in him a feeling of self-righteousness; and the idea
insensibly stole into his mind, that he had dong all he could
to secure the favour of God, and was about good enough.
‘This was not owing to any neglect on the part of his teacher
and other Christian friends; for they had beon very explicit
in pointing out to him the danger of resting in mere outward
reformation, without that inward work of the Spirit, which
alone can fit the soul for heaven. Nor did he knowingly yield
himself to a delusion so perilous. Yet it was there—latent
and unconfessed indeed, but still there—blinding his eyes
and stifling his convictions. From this fatal snare it was
the pleasure of God to make Clara the instrument of his
acliverance.

Meeting him soon after the happy transition which had
taken place in her own feclings, sho told him how precious
the Saviour now appeared to her, of the sweet peace which
she enjoyed, and of her delightful hope that she had passed
from death unto life.

“Why, Clara,” he answered in surprise, “I thought you
had been religious a long time. You have always behaved
so properly, and have shown so much interest in tho Bible,
and in the Sunday-school, and in doing good to others, that
I never supposed you needed anything more.”

“0 yes, I needed a great deal more. It is true, that my
dear mother’s care and example have kept me from open.
sin, and taught me to esteem religion, and to take a certain
pleasure in it.. But I had a very wicked heart after all—
a heart that was at enmity with God—though I never saw
it so clearly as I have lately. But I trust that God has now,
for Christ’s sake, taken away my old heart that was always



Full Text

a Ly ae
orm a cae i .
wore :
Wace FEES~

—









THE

Powér or Rinnness.

Q Stary for the Young.



THE ASSAUET.
Yon ran strike mo if you ike, Dut Keane ateice back. Tonn’t help you 13
abn wrong, but TL pot do wrong myscie—Pagge Bt. 4



met 235



T. NELSON AND SONS, LONDON AND EDINBURGH.
THE

POWER OF KINDNESS.

A Story for the Young.

BY THE REY. GEORGE B. IDE, D.D.



LONDON: 5
T. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW:
AND EDINBURGH.
ae a ee


INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

‘Tre reader of this little Book may wish to know
whether the incidents it describes had an actual oceur-
renee. To such an inquiry the writer would reply,
that the entire narrative is founded on fact. Every
event—every personage—is real. All the individuals
introduced into these pages were known to the writer
in his earlier years; and most of the circumstances
took place under his own observation. The only point
in which the strict fidelity of history has been departed
from is, that, in a few instances, persons and events have
‘been brought inte a closer connection as to time and
place than existed in reality. The names of the actors
in the story, as well as of the-scene in which it is laid,
are of course fictitious. In all other respects, the
book is literally true. Should it please God to make
it an instrament of good to any into whose hands it
may come, the slight Ixboar devoted to its preparation
will be more than rewarded.
CONTENTS.

enaper § Page.
1. The Snaw-Birds, .. .

IT. A Pleasant Visiter,
JIT. Good for Evil

IV. The Victory,
‘V. The Sunday-School,











aL
VI. A Parable Expounded, as
VI. Progress in Reform, c 45
‘VIII. The Young Tempters, - “9
XX. The Melon-Patch, 3T
X. The Assault, 7 os
XI. Lost in the Mountains, 70
XII. The Search, 7
XIII. Camping Ont, 83,
XIV. Founa, , 89
XV. The Buried Seed Coming Up, 7
XVL The Plants Set, =. “107



XVIL The Early Ripe Early Gathered,
XVIIL The Living for the Dead,

m
a 8




THE POWER OF KINDNESS.



CHAPTER I 7
THE sNOW-BIRDS.

In a pretty sequestered village, known by the namo of
Green Hollow, lived little Clara Morton, the only child
of a pious widow lady, in easy cireumstances. Their dwell-
ing was a small, but very pretty cottage, standing back a
short distance from the road-side, embowored in shrubbery,
and shaded by overhanging trees. A lawn of closely-shaven
grass, shut in by. neat white paling, spread its green carpet
in front of the house ; while in the rear, and on either side,
a trim garden was laid out, filled with roses, pinks, violets,
and other sweet-scented flowers. The quict of this retired
abodo was disturbed by no noise, save the distant hum of
the village mill; the occasional shout of a waggoner, as his
heavy team trundled by; or the tinkling of the cow-bell, as
the faithful kine returned slowly homeward at ovening.
Here, from her infancy, Clara had dwelt in happiness.
Never had care troubled the breast of the child. All the
day long, sho was as‘ blithe as a lark, and as bright asa,
daisy. Every afternoon, when her school-tasks were done,
amdthe weather permitted, she busied herself with her
flower-beds ; and,assisted by old Peter the gardener, taught
8 ‘HE SNOW-BIRDS.

many a drooping plant to look up with a face almost as
smiling as her own. _

‘The Sabbath brought with it a different employment ; but
one in which she found equal, if not greater delight. On
that holy day, attended by her mother, she went to the
Bunday-school and to the house of God, to listen to the
‘Word of Hin who made this beautiful world, and who, in
the riches of his mercy, gave his only begotten Son to
be the Saviour of sinners. The truths which she there
learned often came afresh to her mind when sho resumed
hher week-day occupations ; and, while training some creep-
ing jessamine, or watching the unfolding of some blush-
ing rose-bud, she would think of that great Being who
clothes the lily, and gives to cach flower its bloom and
fragrance.

‘Thus pleasantly she spent the summer between her books
and her garden, with a little ramble now and then in the
neighbouring wood, to hear the wild-birds sing their hymn
‘of praise to God. But when the winter set in, her amuse-
ments were more within doors; for her health was delicate,
and the watchful mother guarded against any exposure to
the inclemoncy of the season.

It was for this reason that Clara remained in the cottage
one day, looking from the parlour window on the scene
without. Snow had been falling all tho morring, and now
covered the ground with a soft, white fleece. The appear-
ance of nature at that moment was certainly not very pre-
possessing ; nor yet was it altogether dreary. So Clara
thought, as she stood, half wishing the snow would go
away, notwithstanding she had observed it with pleasure
when it first began to come down, like a cloud of feathers,
from the sky. Presently her eye full upon a flock of birds
that just thon had flown over the fonce; and, lighting on
the leafless twigs of her favourite rose-bush, were picking
their feathers, and chirping merrily.

“Cheep! cheep !” trilled the little warblers, in chorus.

“mother! cried Clara, clapping her hands, and ad-
dressing Mrs. Morton, who was seated by the fire, ongaged




THE SNOW-BIRDS. 9

in sowing ; “see what a lot of pretty birds thero aro in the
garden.” a pee

“Yes, Clara,” said Mrs. Morton, without looking up,
“ they are birds that always come in the winter.”

“And will they stay, mother? Will they not fly away
when it gets colder?”

“I suppose they will. » Certainly they will do so when
they can no longer find anything to eat.”

Clara turned again to the window, and watched the birds
in silence. Soon they gathered together, and, flitting down
‘upon the snow, hopped hither and thither, casting quick
glances on every side ; until, disturbed by some noise, they
rose from the ground, and flew swiftly away. All at once,
anew idea occurred to Clara, After thinking it over some
minutes, she inquired of her mother—

“Why do all the other little birds go off as soon as sum-
mer is over? Ishould think they might stay here as well
as these snow-birds 1”

“Most of the birds you see in summer are migratory ;
that is, they leave for a warmer climate on the approach of
winter, because they are not sufficiently hardy to endure
the severe weather, and because they cannot then obtain
their accustomed food. Some, however, especially a species
of swallow, are supposed to dig themselves holes in banks
of earth, where they lie very warm and comfortable all
winter; and when the chilling winds blow, and the sharp
frost freezes up the streams, and the thick snow covers the
ground, they doze away. in their snug little beds, and do not
feel itatall. Others, again, like the robin, are fitted, by their
structure and habits, to sustain a greater degroo of cold ;
and are thus able to subsist upon berries and seeds that last
late in the year. The robin in particular, it is said, has much
larger pupils than other birds ; and by its sharp sight, can
find insects on which to feed, not only when the ground is
frozen, but even in the dark.”

“ How do tho birds that go away know when itis time to

9,-and when to come back again?" And who tells the others
to etay ner





ie
10 THE sNow-nIRDS.

* God, my dear,
and when to do it.”

“Does God talk'to the birds, mother?”

“Yes, my child. Do you not remember what the Bible
teaches about God's care of the birds, and how he superin-
tends and guides all their motions?”

“Indeed I do, mother. Christ said, in his sermon on the
monnt, ‘ Behold the fowls of the ajr; for they sow not, nei-
ther do they reap, nor gather into barris; yet your heavenly
Father feedeth them. At another time, he said to his dis-
ciples, < Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one
of them shall not fall on the ground without, your Father,
And then there is that beautiful passage in Jeremiah, * Yea,
the stork in the heaven knoweth her appointed times; and
the turtle, and the crane, and the swallow, observe the time
of their coming.’ But how do they know this? Does God
tell them? And can they understand him, mother!”

“Yes, Clara. The same good Being that made the tower-
ing oak, made also the birds that skip and sing so swoctly
among its branches. He has adapted their natures to the
various conditions and circumstances of their existence;
and, by means of certain instincts which he has implanted
within them, he teaches them to act in accordance with
their respective characters and wants. These instincts are
his voice ; and he has so constituted them, that they know
and comprehend his meaning at once.”

«But, mother, do they not sometimes disobey him ?”

“No, never. Tho birds are not like many wicked chil-
dren, who refuse to do what God tells them. Man, the most
favoured creature in this world, is the only one who ever
disregards the authority of his Maker. Everything else
yields a ready submission to him. The winds hearken to
his voice, and obey his word. The_scasons change, the sun
rises and sets, clouds come and go, at his bidding. Beasts,
fishes, and fowls, insects and creeping things, all do his
.Will, and fulfil their several ends in harmony with the laws
which he has ordained. But men, though endowed with
reason and conscience, blessed with a direct revelation from



0 created them, tells each what to do,


A PLEASANT VISITER. n

heaven, and destined to live for ever—mon, fallen and de-
praved, ungratefully rebel against their Creator, and would
continue to rebel, without one solitary exception, were it
not for the atoning and reclaiming grace of Christ provided
in the Gospel. Hence God uptraids them for their conduct,
as contrasted with that of irrational creatures; and calls
‘upon all naturo, animate and inanimate, to unite in con-
demning their disobedience. ‘Hear, O heavens, and give
ear, O eartif; for the Lord hath spoken. I have nourished
and brought up children, and they have rebelled against
me. The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master’s
crib; but Israel doth not know, my people doth not con-
sider” And, at the close of the passage which you recited,
about the stork, and the turtle, and the swallow, observ-
ing the times appointed them, he adds: ‘But my people.
know not the judgment of the Lord” Remember, Clara,
that, whenever you transgress God’s law by ill temper, for-
getfulncss of his benefits, or the commission of any sin, the
pretty little birds you love so much are witnesses against
you; for they never disobey him.”

CHAPTER It.
A PLEASANT VISITER.

Crana had listened with doop interest to tho explanation
and advice given by her mother in the preceding chapter.
And now, as the voice which she loved so well ceased to
speak, she stood several minutes in the samo spot, thinking
very pleasantly how God talked to the birds, and how they
always did what he told them ; how, when winter came, the
thrush, and blue-bird, with other tribes of their musical
brethren and sisters, went off, at His command, on a sing-
ing excursion to the sunny south ; while the robin, obedient
to the same Divine Teacher, lingéred around tho fields and
12 A PREASANT VISITER. 3
houses which they had frequented in summer. As there
thoughts wore passing through her mind, she happened to
glance her eye again to the window, when, with a scream of
delight, she exclaimed—

«Just look there! If there is not a robin now on the
window. See, mother!”

Mrs. Morton looked up from her work, and saw that a
robin was indeed standing on the window-sill, and pecking
at the glass as if knocking for admittance. Clara fairly
danced with joy at the sight.

“ Mother,” she cried, “may I notlet him in? he’s so cold,
I know.” a

“I think he will fly away before you can open the case-
ment. You may take some cake and throw it ont upon the
ground. Hoe will pick up the crumbs, if you do not scare,
him?

Clara ran to the closet, and taking a piece of cake, has-
tened back to the window. As she approached, however,
the robin Ieaped off his perch, and settled down upon the
snow. Clara lifted the sash gently, and breaking the cake,
scattered it at his feet. After a few moments spent seem-
ingly in doubt, whether there was not somo hidden guile in
the bounty so liberally proffered, the robin concluded to
accept it, and drawing nearer, and fluttering his wings, as
if to say, “Who's afraid?” betook himself eagerly to his
repast. While Master Redbreast was thus comfortably
engaged, a stone came skipping over the fence, and grazing
his feathers, forced him to a hasty retreat. Clara raised her
hhead to ascertain whence tho missile had been thrown, and
looking into the road, perecived a rough, razged boy, named
Frank Haynes, with another stone in his hand, about to re-
peat his malicious act. As soon as the boy saw that he was
detected, he lowered his uplifted arm, and began to sneak
back towards a lean-looking donkey from which he had
just dismounted.

“Naughty Frank!” cried Clara indignantly. “What do
you mean? Why do you throw stones at my bird?”

“Is as much mine as yours,” replied Frank, preparing
A YLEASANT VISITER. 13

to heave another pebble at the inoffensive robin, which had.
lighted on the fence, and was spreading its wings in alarm.

“Let it alone, you wicked boy, or I will call mother,”
shriekod Clara in ‘consternation, lest the bird should bo hit.
Mrs. Morton now came to the window, and bade the boy
desist. He obeyed reluctantly, and picking up a stick, be-
laboured the poor donkey’s sides, as if the act
a relief for his disappointment. On secing this, Mrs. Mor-
ton, who was about retiring from the window, called to him
to stop.

« Frank,” sho said, “what has the animal dono that you
beat himsot Have youno more pity for a poor brate than
to strike him at every step?”

“I’m goin’ to the mill,” shouted the boy, “and Neddy
won’t budge unless he’s licked.”

«0 yes, he will, if you treat him kindly”

“Beg pardon, ma’am, but I know better. Jist you try
him once,” surlily replied the boy. “ Get up, Neddy, I say,”
he continued, fetching the donkey another tremendous
whack, which caused the poor beast to cringe with pain.

‘Mrs. Morton attempted to expostulate further with the
boy; but he turned a deaf ear to her entreaties, and,
whipping the donkey at every step, passed out of sight; not,
however, without stopping to throw a parting stone at the
robin. At this last attack, the frightened bird flew precipi-
tately into an adjoining orchard. Poor Clafa could not re-
frain from weeping. To be deprived of such a pet, and that
too at the very moment when it was about to receive food
from her hand, seemed to her eruel in the extreme. Sho
sat down by her mother, and bitterly upbraided the causo
of her gricf.

“Mother, what a good-for-nothing fellow that Frank
Haynes is!) Won't you send Péter out to give him a good
whipping, tho noxt time he dares to throw stones”

«No, my dear. Why should I?” replied her mother.
“To punish him in order to gratify a feoling of revenge,
‘would bo contrary to the law of kindness and mercy which
our Saviour has enjoined. He commands us to love our




14 A PLEASANT VISITER.

enemies; to bless them that curse us; to do good to them
that hate us, and to pray for them that despitefully uso us;
that we may be tho children of our Father which is in hea-
ven; for He maketh His sun to rise on the evil and on the
good,and sendetfi¥ain onthe justand on the unjust. The best
way to deal with offenders like Frank, is to exercise towards
them a spirit of mildness and forbearance. Severity would
only make him worse. You must recollect that he has had
no one to teach him what is right. His mother is very
poor, and though doubtless well-meaning, is little qualified
to bring up her son in a proper way. She allows him to do
just what he pleases, until he makes her angry, and then
she treats him with great harshness. He has been beaten
and scolded all his life, and has, in consequence, become
very rude and unfecling. Let us adopt a new method with
him. ‘You feel aggrieved because he has driven away your
bird, and deprived you of an innocent pleasure. Very well.
I will show you anoble revenge. You shall punish him by
making him ashamed of his conduct, and endeavouring to
effect his reformation. Wo will watch for an opportunity
to do him a kindness ; and then, if his mind is at all soft-
ened by it, you shall seize the favourable moment to per-
suade him to attend the Sunday-school, and thus bring
him under the influenco of that religious instruction which
he so greatly needs. It may be that God’s blessing will
prosper the effort, and that you will yet have the happiness
of seeing Frank a good and pious boy. Will you try, my
dear?”

“Yes, mother; but I can’t forgive him for driving off the
poor robin so cruelly.”

“Ah, but you must. Do you not remember what our
Lord said? ‘If ye forgive men their trespasses, your hea-
venly Father will also forgive you;.but if ye forgive not
men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your
trespasses? God has had more to bear from us than wo
can ever have from our fellow-crentures ; and if we are not
willing to forgive them, how can we hopo that He will for-
give ust Our Saviour commands us to forgive those who




A PLEASANT VISITER. 15

injure us; and he has added a touching emphasis to this
command by His own example ; for even when hanging on
the cross, He forgave his murderers, and prayed his Father
to forgive thom. Bosides, so long as we refuse to forgive
any one, we must continue to regard him with ill-will and,
hatred ; and we cannot do good to a person towards whom.
we feel unkindly. Yon must, therefore, forgive Frank as
the very first step in your ondcavours to make him abetter
boy.” : .

“Well, mother, I forgive him with all my heart. But O,
how sorry I am tho pretty robin is gone!” And at this
thought her grief broke ont afresh.

“Never fear, Clara,” said Mrs. Morton soothingly. “Your
bird is not so easily frightened. He will be sure to come
back after those crumbs, if he is not there already.”

* Yes, mother,he is!” shouted Clara, who had gone tothe
window to sec. “'Thore he comes; now he's on the fence 5
now down he hops; and, I do declare, he is eating the cake
again. O how glad Tam!”

‘And Clara ran to get her bonnet and shawl, and hurrying
out into the garden, watched Master Robin very patiently ;
until, having gobbled down overy morsel of the cake, he
looked up queerly into her face, and giving a loud chirp
that said as plainly as a robin could say it, “Thank ye,”
walked off quite contented and happy.

This was the beginning of a very pleasing intimacy
between Clara and the robin. Every day he would come
into the gardon for his meal; and Clara took great delight
in feeding him, and watching his motions while he ate. If
at any time she did not happen to see him when he paid his
visits, he would fly up to the window, and rap against the
pane with his bill, as if to let her know he thought dinner
ought-to be ready. When mid-winter arrived, and deep
snow lay on the earth, he disappeared for a whilo, thinking
it best, probably, either to hide himself from the biting
cold in some cozy retreat, or to spend a few weeks among
his cousins in the south. But with the first blush of spring
he came back again, attonded by a lovely:mate whom he
16 A PLEASANT VISITER.

had picked up in his travels. They built their nest in an
apple tree, that stood at a short distance from the house ;
and Clara often went out to see them while they were em-
ployed in constructing it. She got Peter to make hor a
little ladder, and set it against the tree, so that she could
climb up, and inspect_the work. It afforded her much
amusement as well as wonder, to observe what nice carpen-
ters the robins were ; with what skill they managed their
materials; how dexterously they adjusted them to their
places, fastening them together with mortar ; covering the
inside with a smooth coat of plaster; and giving to the
whole dwelling the most perfect symmetry and proportion.
She thought. it the finest bird-house that ever was made.
‘When the nest was completed, on going to visit it one day,
she found two little eggs lying in its bottom. Her rapture
was unbounded. They were so beautifully enamelled, and
were sprinkled all over with such soft and delicate hues,
that it seemed to her no sea-shell could match their loveli-
ness. She did not dare to take them up, or even touch them,
lest they might break; but for a long time she stood looking
at their tiny forms and variegated colours, jn a kind of
ecstacy. In a few weeks a conple of young birds wero
hatched from the eggs; and then Clara’s delight was at the
highest, Every day she would bring them erumbs of cake
and other tit-bits ; and how happy it made her to see them
open their months, and greedily devour the food which she
gave them, How astonished she was, too, to find that such
little things had such big mouths, and could open them so
wide! During all these visits, sho never disturbed the old
birds, or interfered with any of their domestic arrangements.
‘They had become so accustomed to her presence, and soemed.
to have such confidence in her good intentions, that they
‘were never uneasy at her approach, or showed the least fear
that she would injure or carry off their young.
Goon ror EVIL. ‘ WwW

CHAPTER IT.
Goop For zvrr.

From the time when Frank Haynes committed the cruel
act related in the last chapter, several months elapsed before
Clara saw him again, or had any opportunity of prosecuting
her benevolent intentions in reference to his improvement.
The winter was vory severo, and Mrs. Morton and her
daughter, being both in feeble health, were compelled to
yemain mostly at ‘home; while Frank found scope for his
mischievous propensitics in other directions. But when the
deep snows had melted away, and the earth had again put
on its robe of green, and soft breezes heralded the coming
summer, Clara began to meditate earnestly on her plan of
trying to induce Frank to become o pupil in the Sunday
school, and to wish that the favourable moment for under.
taking it, of which her mother had spoken, might occur.
Sho knew well, that unless she could in some way gain an
influence over -him, he would repel all her efforts. She
know that sevoral teachers had attempted in vain to prevail
on him to join the school. She knew, too, that he never
entered the house of God, but spent the Sabbath in fishing,
boating, or roaming through the woods and fields. Her
pitying heart was filled with sorrow as she thought how
wicked he was, and how much more wicked he wonld
become, if he coritinued his present course ; and she resolved
todo her utmost to reclaim him, whenever circumstances
should arise that gave the least promise of success. Tho
long desired occasion came at length.

On a bright morning in May, while Clara was reading to
her-mother one of the little books from the Sunday-school
library, old Peter thrast his head in at the parlour door,
looking asif ke had something very important to communi-
cata.

“What is the matter, Peter 1” said Mrs. Morton quietly.

2 om




18 GOOD FOR EVIL,

Peter was an Irishman, and spoke with an accent strongly
redolent of the Green Isle.

“Beg pardon, ma’am,” he answered, bowing and scraping
with his foot ; “but here's a peck 0” trouble. ‘That rascally
Frank Haynes got into the barn last night to steal eggs.
An’ more an’ that, he tumbled through the mow, an’ kilt
tho pig intirely. An’ more an’ that, he spraint his ankle,
80 he couldn’t move till somebody helped him off. Really,
ma'am, he-ought to go to. jail, the thafe that he is. Things
can’t go on 60, or we shan’t be safo in the house o” nightsyat
all, at all, ma’am.”

“Well, Peter, I will attend to it; you may withdraw.”
‘When the gardener had retired, Mrs. Morton laid down her
sewing, and turning to Clara, said— “

“Now, my daughter, is the time to put in practice our
scheme for reforming this malicious boy. We will return
him good for evil. We will rolieve the very sufferings he
has brought on himself in his attompt to injure us, and show.
him, by vur forbearance and kindness, that we do not hate
or despise him for his misdeeds, but pity his folly, and seak
only to promote his welfare. Such treatment, if he is not

_utterly hardened, must awaken compunction, and may lead
to better things. Come, we will pay the unruly lad a
visit.”

Clara was delighted. A walk in the sweet sunshine
across the green meadows, and down shady lanes, where
wild flowers grew, and sparkling brooks laughed and babbled
on their merry way, would be very pleasant of itself ; but
to go on such a kind purpose—to endeavsitr, by words and
deeds of love, to draw Frank from his vicious habits,
dispose him to listen to the teachings of God's holy book
that would be happiness indeed. Full of this benevolent
design, she ran to her little chamber to prepare herself for
the excursion. In the meantime, Mra. Morton tooka bagkot
and filled it with substantial provisians, together with a few
‘delicacies, and a bottle containing. a. healing lotion. for
Frank's foot. Clara being now ready, and a servant having
been called to carry the basket, they soon set out, and taking


Goo FoR EVIE. 19

a foot-path that led by a shorter course through the fields,
proceeded on their orrand of mercy.

‘The mother of Frank was a poor widow who dwolt in a
rude habitation about half a mile from Mrs. Morton’s resi-
dence. She rented a small piece of land, and with the help
of its scanty produce, and by taking in washing, strove to
keep want from her door. Frank -was hor only child, and
being a well-grown Ind in, his fifteenth year, might have
been of much assistance to her in gaining a livelihoods But
inBtead of this, he did little besides giving her trouble by
his disobedience, idleness, and wickedness, She had brought
‘him up very badly. Though frugal and hard-working, she
Jacked the essential requisites for exerting a right influence
over him. She was uneducated and ignorant. She was also
very unequal in her conduct towards him; at one time
treating him with foolish indulgence, humoring his caprices,
‘and even laughing at his mischievous pranks, and, at
‘ghother, chiding and beating him with excessive seve

ty Worse than all, she was an utter stranger to-religion.
Under all the pressuro of hier misfortunes, and in the
‘sorrows of her lonely and unprotected state, she had never
looked to Him who is “a Father of the fatherless, and a
Jutige of the widow, in his holy habitation.” Never had she
sought counsel from the Bible, or support and comfort in
prayer; She lived in habitual neglect of all the appointed:
means of Christian instruction. She was too poor, sho
thought, to go to church. It might be well enough for
‘those in casy circumstances, or who had fine dresses to show
off; but it was no placo for her who had to toil night and
Gay, and could ndt afford the expense of a decent appear-
ance. Thus she shut herself out from the light and joy of
the gospel.

The pernicious effects of this disregard of spiritual things
were not confined to herself, but were still more visible in
the character of her son. Naturally of a wild and intract-
able disposition, and growing up without the restraints of
wholesome discipline and example, he soon learned to sot
her authority at defiance. She was not insensible to his


20 Goon vor EVIE.

delinquencics, and often sighed and grieved over thems
but she wanted the moral force effectually to control him.
His froward and lawless temper oceasioned her constant
anxiety; and many were the complaints, and even harsh
words, which she was compelled to hear from the neigh-
bouring farmers on account of his deprodations upon their
property. Latterly, through the ‘ceasoless grinding of
poverty, and the perpetual irritation caused by hor son’s
behaviour, her spirits had been much depressed; and she
was beginning’ to lose the energy with which she had onée
borne up against her hard lot. ‘She relaxed her efforts,
and, in a kind of sullen despair, allowed matters to take
their course. Her dwelling looked less tidy ; the little
ficld was less carefully tilled; and everything wore tho
aspect of neglect and disrepair.

Such was the appearance of the widow’s premises, as Mrs,
Morton and Clara approached. Tho house stood at the ond
ofa lane that wound away from the main road. Its situa-
tion was beautiful, commanding a distant view of the river,
and surrounded by rich valleys and green hill-sides, with
blue mountains looming in the background. But its own
dilapidated condition made it seem an unsightly blot in a
landscape whero all else was so fair. The windows were
loose and shattered, many of the panes broken, and their
places supplied by old hats and rags. Heaps of rabbish lay
scattered on every side. Tho fences were down, and the
small patch of ground which they were meant to inclose,
needed cultivation sadly. A few fowls, and a half-starved
pig, were running at large in the yard and in the garden,
Even Neddy, the donkey, rambled about without a halte®,
or stood before the door ‘basking in the sun, and whisking
the flies from his lank sides.

As the visiters entered this desolate abode, the widow
met them with a respectful greeting, and presenting chairs,
begged thenrto be seated. Frank, who had so lamed him!
self by his fall as to be unable to stand, was lying on a low
bed, and amusing his idle moments by pinching the tail of
‘a cat, which mewed piteously, and in vain struggled to
Goon FoR EVIL. a

cacape from his grasp. When he saw who had come, he
changed colour, and tuming his face ta the wall, pretended
to sleep. Mrs. Morton smiled as she noticed this move-
ment; but taking a seat, acted and spoke as if she had not
observed his confusion.

“Mrs. Haynes,” sho said, addressing the widow in a
pleasant tone, “I have heard that you were doing rather
poorly at present; and I thought I would call and see if I
could assist you in any way. Frank is sick, too, is he
not?”

“0, ma’am, you are very kind to visit a poor person like
me, and I’m much obliged to you for it,” replied the widow.
“T aint getting on so well as I might, if I wasn’t sick half
the time, and hardly able to creep about. Frank's hurt his
foot somehow, so I have all the work to do, and it comes
very hard on me, I hope you'll excuse the house, secing
I've been so down and discouraged-like; I haven't had the
‘heart to rid it up as it ought to be.”

Frank should help you as much as possible,” said Mrs.
Morton. “How did he hurt his foot!”

“TI don’t know, ma’am. He says he fell down and turned
on his ankle.

“Frank is a bad boy, I am afraid. Iam very sorry to say
that I understand he réteived his injury while attempting to
xob my hen-roost.”

“0, ma’am! I was afraid it was something wrong,” ex-
claimed the widow. “And did ho really mean to rob you
who are so good a lady? I hope you won’t be severe with
him. He shan’t do so again, I promise you,” she continued,
‘ringing her hands.

“No, I did not come. to accuse him, or to have him
punished ; but to try to persuade him to mend his ways,
and to tell him how very wrong such conduct is, and how
certainly it will make him miscrable both here and hereafter,
if he perseveres in i

During this conversation, Frank had kept his recumbent
posture, quivering all over, and convulsed with opposite
and conflicting feelings. ‘The kindness of Mrs, Morton in







Goop For Evin.



comting to visit his mother, the sympathy she had expressed,
and the-geritle manner in which she had spoken of his own
fault, were almost too much even for his stubborn nature
to bear. Ho longed to confess the truth, and ask her for-
giveness, But pride and obstinacy still held him back.
‘These passions, which had ruled him so long, struggled with
thé better thoughts that began to stir within him, and for
the present retained their wonted mastery. Ho resolved
not to submit to the shame of making such an acknowledg-
ment. He would deny tho charge, and bravely face it down.
Actuated by this determination, he sat up in the bed, and
striving hard to put on an air of offended innocence, said, in
a tone that he meant to be very bold—

“I didn’t do it, ma’am; who told you I did?”

“Peter, the gardener, informed me,’ answered Mrs.
Morton; “and I cortainly supposed it to be true. But if he
was mistaken, and you really are not guilty, I am very sorry
I mentioned the subject at all. Never mind, Frank; keep
quiet, and try to get well, and I will do all I can to make
you and your mother comfortable.”

Frank lay down again; but he was very ill at ease. His
conscience goaded him sorely. It was bad enough, he
thought, to injure the property of so generous person ; but
to deceive her, to impose on her frank and unsuspecting
disposition by a downright falschood—that was worse yet,
“0,” said he to himself, “Iam a. bad boy, that’s a fact!”
Not that he was particularly sensitive to the sin of lying
for this was one of his most common sins, and ordinarily he
could swallow 2 lie as smoothly as if it were a cherry. But
the circumstances in which he had now uttered an untrath,
made the crime appear terrible to him; and agitated by the
stings of remorse, he rolled and tossed as though the straw
mattress beneath him were of red hot iron.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Morton, having ordered the servant to
bring in the basket, began to take out its contents, and
present them to the widow. Frank watched her as she pro-
ceeded. First, a couple of pies, and several cups of custard
and jelly, made their appearance. “They look good; but I








Goop For Evie. 23

don't desarve ’em, I oughtn’t to touch ’em,” thought Frank.
‘Then a large boiled ham was brought forth. “She don't
know what a lying villain she’s goin’ to feed,” quoth Frank.
Next camo a couple of fowls. “Fowls! fowls! ah, Frank,
can you stand that? And thon, as a dozen of fresh eggs
were produced and laid carefully on the table, Frank could
look no longer, but turning, violently over on the other side,
muttered to himself, “Eggs! O dear! dear! I wanted to
steal her eggs, and she gives ’em to me; I can’t eat’em,
they'd choke me.”

During the wholo interview thus far, Clara had sat and
listened very quiotly. But now, perceiving how restless
Frank was, and what discomfort his countenance ahd move-
ments indicated, she rose from her seat, and approsching
the bed, looked at him for a minute with a face full of pity.
At last, in 9 soft, sweet voice, she said—

“Poor Frank ! does your foot pain you badly ?

« Yes, it aches awful,” answered Frank, half crying.

“Tm very sorry. But don’t cry. Mother's got some nice
ointment in the basket, that will cure it very quick. It cured
me last summer when I hurt my foot running after butter-—
flies. I was out in the garden, and the sun was shining
brightly, and the butterflies were so thick, and flew about
80 prettily among the flowers, that I wanted to catch some
very much, There was one that was a great deal larger
than the rest, and he had such wide and beautiful wings, all
covered with specks of gold, and brown, and purple, and
they sparkled like so many stars. He led me a long chace
up and down the garden, fluttering from plant to plant,
and from alley to alley, hovering now here, now there, but
never stopping a minute. At last he lit on a small bush
that grew close to the ground, and I thought I was sure of
him, I crept up very cautiously, and-was just about to clap
my bonnet over him, when I stepped on a round stone that
had no business to be there, and sprained my ankle dread-
fully. I couldn’t help screaming with the pain ; and mother
came out.and carried me in, and bathed my foot with this
ointment—and I was well again in two or threo dys. Shoe






24 Goov FoR nvIn.

has brought some of it for you. It will take away all the
soreness and swelling, so that you will soon be able to walk
about as well as ever. And she has got some custards and
jellies for you too. Wouldn’t you like to have one now?
It will make you feel better, I’m sure.”

So saying, she went to the table, and after asking her
mother’s leave, took one of the custards and carried it to
him. The poor fellow was now completely subdued. Mrs.
“Morton's generosity had nearly overcome him; but the kind
words of Clara, her sympathizing look and soothing tones,
connected with the remembrance of how he had wantonly
vexed and grieved her, finished the work,and mejted him
entirely. He took the custard from her hand and tried ‘to
eat it; but his heart was too full: the food seemed to stick
in his throat, and he found it impossible to swallow a morsel.
Putting down the eup, and bursting into tears, he sobbed
out—

“0, Mrs. Morton! ©, Miss Clara! I don’t desarve sich
nice things. I haven't been good to you at all, I did go for
to steal your eggs, and I told you a lio When I said I didn’t.
I know’d there was a big lot of *em in the barn, and I
thought you wouldn't miss afew. I warn't thinking of no
harm at the time; but I now feels very bad about it. I
couldn’t let you be so kind to me without telling how
wicked I’ve been. I won’t do so any more, and I’ll try and
be a good boy, if you'll forgive me.”

For a moment, Mrs. Morton looked very grave, and Clara
very sad, at this confession. After a briof silence, the former
said—

“Iam mich grieved, Frank, not only at your attempt to
molest my property, but still more at the untruth you told
in denying it. The loss I might have sustained is of no
consequence; but pilfering and lying are very sinful and
dangerous habits, and, if not forsaken, will ruin you in this’
world and in the next. As you express sorrow for them,
however, I freely forgive you,and hope you will avoid such
conduct in future. But you must ask God’s forgiveness as
well as mine. Your offence is far more against him than


Goon For EVIE. 25

against me, You have broken his holy law; and ho will not
pass it by, unless you truly repent, and seck his mercy
throngh his Son Josns Christ.”

‘This address, though proper and necessary, was more
than the poor lad could endure. He was greatly agitated ;
he wept aloud; he flung himself from side to side; and, in
the agony of his distress, fairly shook the bed under him.
Clara's little heart bled at the sight. Going up to him, she
laid one of her soft, white hands on his hot and sun-burned
forehead, and brushing back from it the coarse, tangled
locks, looked down into his face with her bright eyes
swimming in tears, and said, in a voice that trembled with
emotion—

“<0, Frank! I am so sorry for you. But don't feel so bad.
Mother won't care about the ergs; and I don’t care abont
the robin, for you didn’t drive him away after all. He came
back when you were gone, and stayed about the house along,
time. And he's back again this spring, and another one
with him; and they've got the prettiest nest that ever was,
out in the orchard, with two lovely little eggs in its and you
shall come and see them,when you get well. You're going
to be a good boy now, I'm certain ; and mother will love
you, and wo will all love you; and God will forgive you,
and help you to do right; for the Bible says he is always
ready to forgive those who are sorry for doisig wrong, and
that ho will not remember their sins any moro.”

It must have beon a very hard heart which these swect
words failed to soften, and a very hopeless one that could
not be comforted by them. ‘What effect they had on Frank
will be soon in the ext chapter.


26 Tne victory.

CHAPTER Ivy.
‘THE VicTORY.

Trene is something in real sympathy that goos at once to
the heart. The rndest natures feel it no less than the most
refined. Frank was wild and untutored, perverse and wil-
ful in temper, and reckless in conduct. But he was not
utterly reprobate. His vices were the result rather of
ignorance and neglect than of any invincible obliquity of
mind. He possessed redeeming qualities, which, when once
called forth, rendered him accessible to Fight impressions,
and gave promise of amendment. To harsh and unfeeling
reproof he was perfectly callous; but compassion and ten-
derness had a power over him, of which he was himself pro-
bably unconscious. The forbearance of Mrs. Morton, and
her pious counsel, had awakened the moral senso that
hitherto lay dormant in his bosom. He saw the wicked-
ness of his behaviour, and the sad end to which it would
lead. Shame, self-reproach, foar, were all alive within him.
But something more than these was needed to effect a
salutary change in his character. He must be roused from
his despondency. He must feel not only sorrow for the
past, but hope for the future. This chord Clara touched.
Her affectionate and encouraging words fell like balm on
his troubled spirit. They calmed and composed him. They
nerved and strengthened him. There sprung up in his
breast a new-born purpose—the heavenimparted thought
that he could reform, and that he would do it.

Raising his eyes to the speaking little face that hung over
him, he said earnestly—

“I wish I was good like you, Clara.”

“0 no, I'm not good,” she answered decidedly, “and you
must not think so. Ask mother, and she can tell you that
I have a great many faults. I am sometimes fretful and
peevish, and then I say and do naughty things. I was very


’ ‘THE VICTORY. P28



angry with you last winter for stoning my bird, and wanted
you whipped... But mother showed me how wrong it was,
and Iwas sorry, and forgave you. If L am not as wicked
as you have been, it is not becauso I am any better myself,
‘but because I have been better taught.”

“ Lwish somebody would teach me,” murmured the poor,
neglected boy. “Won't you, Miss Clara? I should so like
to learn to be good ; and you talk so kindly, think I could
learn, if you would show me?

All along Clara had been Watching for an opportunity to
bring forward her darling scheme of prevailing on Frank to
go to the Sunday-school; «hd now that the conversation
had taken a turn which Jed so naturally to it, she seized
upon the opening with a tact so delicate, and a zeal so
eager, that they were charming to witness.

“I cannot teach you myself, Frank,” she replied, “for
Ym only an ignorant little thing. But come, Pil tell you
what to do—join the Sunday-school ; there you will learn
all about being good. There we read the Bible, which tolls
us how God loved us, and how he wanted us to be good so
much that he sent his own Son into the world, to take
away our sins, and show us the way to be good. And thero
are in it a great many beautiful stories about good mien and
good children, and they are all true; and it is full-of such
sweet things about heaven, and about tho good people that
have gone there, and about the angels, and the white robes,
and the harps, and the hymns, and the bright plains, and
tho streets of pure gold, that you fool as.if you saw it all,
and wanted to go right. up there. And then our teachers,
they are so kind, and love us-so dearly, and talk to us 80
pleasantly about Jesus, and how he is willing to savo us,
and how hé asks us to come to him, and holds out his
arms to receive us. Our superintendent, too, Mr. Law-
rence, what speeches he does make! And there’s our
Library, such nice books, and so many of them. O, Frank,
you will come, won’t yout You will like it so much, I
know.”

Frank hesitated at this proposal. Notwithstanding the


28 Tie yicrony.

Dotter feclings that had begun to work within him, he could
not all at once lay aside his old habits of thinking; and one
of theso was a peculiar prejudice against the Sunday-school.
‘He was wont to regard it as a place of tedious confinement
—a sort of child’s prison—where the little sufferers were
compelled to sit very still on hard benches in a closé room,
through long weary hours, while the fields were smiling,
and the fresh breezes blowing, and the sunshine dancing so
merrily without. Hoe was as wild as a young bear, and
loved to range the woods and mountains as well; and he
had never been taught that it was any sin to indulge his
rambling propensities on the Sabbath. It very often hap-
pens that the sinner, though convinced of the necessity of
reformation in general, will yet start back when urged to
renounce some particular and favourite transgression. Thus
was it with Frank. As Clara pressed her invitation upon
him, his first thought was, that if he complied with it, he
must give up his Sabbath roamings; and, in his reluctance
to do this, he answered—

“I don’t want to bo shut up 0; I'd get dreadful tired
ont, Icouldn’t run about and play a bit.”

“Ah, but, Frank,” replied Clara, “it’s wicked to run
about and play on the Sabbath. God commands us to rest
on that day. And the way we are to rest is to go to church
and to Sunday-school, and to read hia Word, and hear his
gospel preached, and learn how we may serve him, and be
happy with him for ever. That rests body and mind both.
Talways find it so. When it snows or rains very hard, or
Ihave got a bad cold, so that mother does not thinkit safe
for me to go out, the day seems very long, and I feel a great
deal more tired when it is done, than if I had been to the
Sunday-school. No, Frank, you won't bo tired. When
night comes, you will feel a great deal casier than you do
when you spend the Sabbath rambling over the hills, or
boating on the river. You will feel easier in your legs, and
you will feel so easy here,” added she, emiling archly, and
laying her hand on her heart.

“But I'm afeared to go,” muttered Frank. “I'm so






z THE vicrorY.



ignorant and rough-like, and I’ve never been in sich places,
Yd be afeared to go in by myself tho first time, with so
many folks all looking at me. I don’t know nothin’ about
the lessons, and I'd be sartin to make somo blunder ; and
then they’d all laugh, and I'd want to run right off.”

Clara mused for a moment, and then turning to her
mother, inquirod—

“ Mother, if Frank will attend the school, may I come for
him and take him there the first time he gocs !”

“Yes, my dear,” answered Mrs. Morton, “if tho weather
ia pleasant.”

« Now, Frank,” said Clara, “next Sunday morning, if it is
fair, and you are well enough, Pll come out here and go
with you to school, and introduce you to Mr. Lawrence.
‘The scholars would not laugh at you if you went alone, for
they never do it, because they know it is wrong. But no
one will think of it, if I am with you. You cannot have
any excuse now, and you won't refuse to go, will you, if T
come after you?”

‘She looked at him earnestly, oxpecting and hoping that
he would give the desired promise; but he seemed embar-
yassed, and remained silent. At length his mother said—

“I'm afraid, Miss Clara, that Frank has not any clothes
fit to wear at the school. I meant to have got him some
new ones before now; but I’ve been poorer than common
this spring, and. my being sick so much has put me back,
and I haven’t been able to do it. I'll get'them ready as soon
as I can, and then I shall be very glad to have him go.”

“Do not trouble yourself about it," said Mrs. Morton ;
“that shall be my part of the business. If you will permit
me, I will procure him such a suit as he needs, and havo it
sent home by Saturday evening.”

‘This offer was accepted by tho widow with many thanks.
And now the victory was won. Clara triumphed. Stinm-
lated by his newly awakened desire of improvement, and
encouraged by the kind interest shown in his welfare, tho
grateful boy yielded to her importunities, and promised not
only. to attend the school, but to do his best to profit by its
30 ae yrorony.

instructions. And he felt much happier when he had made
this promise. He felt elevated ; he felt as if he was some-
how lifted out of his former self; as if he had taken the
first stop in the right course; as if anew being and a new
destiny were opening: before him.

On rising to take leave, Mré. Morton, turning towards
him, and addressing him in a very affectionate and winning
manner, said—

“I cannot tell you, Frank, how pleased I am at the spirit
you have manifested, and the resolution to which you have
come. Persevere as you have begun, and all will be well.
You will soon gain respect and confidence, and will grow
up to be a good and useful man. I hope that you will
carefully heed the precious truths that will be taught you
in the school, and strive to regulate your conduet by them
on all o¢casions. Be kind and obedient to your mother ;
she is not very strong, and needs all the help you can give
her. One thing more I should like to say, if you will not
be offended with me for mentioning it. I observe that you
treat very severely the poor beast that I seo standing before
yourdoor. He does all he can to assist-you, and it js wrong
to abuse him. This may seem to you a small matter; but
it is not so. Cruelty to animals not. only cansés great suffer-
ing to creatures which God has placed in our power, but
has a most hardening and pernicious effect upon those who
practise it. I trust you will soon get the better of all your
faults, But do not be discouraged if you find them still
clinging to you for atime. Evil habits are not uprooted in
a day; and it is only the grace of God that can enable us
effectually to subduc them. And now I must go. I have
no doubt that I shall hear an excellent account of you.”

*Good-by, Frank,” cried Clara, looking back from the
door, and shaking, her finger at him ; “I shall be here after
you carly on Sabbath morning ; so do not let that foot keep
you tied down there like a big baby.”

Frank promised to be ready; and then mother ‘and
danghter departed for thoir home, grently delighted with
the result-of their visit.


TNE SUNDAY-scHOOL. 3

CHAPTER V.
THE sUNDAY-SCHOOL.

‘Tur sun rose clear on the following Sabbath; and as soon
as breakfast and family worship were over, Clara set out,
with a very bright face and a very happy heart, on her
mission of kindness. Her way, as before, lay across the
fields; and a short but pleasant walk brought her to the
door of the widow’s dwelling. Frank was ready in his new
suit, waiting for her, and together they started forthe place
of their destination. -

It was a most lovely morning. The air was mild and
balmy, and perfumed with the fragrance of numerous frnit-
trees now in full blossom. White fleecy clouds spread like
a veil over the sky, just deep enough ‘to soften, without
concealing, the sun’s beams; and drops of dew, not yet
exhaled, lay glittering on the young grass and the fresh
opened leaves. A profound st
rupted only by the distant lowing of cattle, the matin song
of birds, tho gurgle of streams, or the whispers of the wind
in the neighbouring woods. Everything was marked by the
deep hush peculiar to that swootest of all times and scenes
—a Sabbath in the country.

A Sabbath in the country! What peaceful images rise
before us at the word! Ye dwellers in cities, cooped up in
hot, close walls, confined to narrow and dusty stroots, where
the breath of heaven stagnates, or is poisoned by noxious
effluvia ; where, oven during the sacred hours of the Lord’s
day, dens of vice send fortl. their stench, and oaths and
blasphemy are heard, and: crowds move to and fro, and
enrriages rattle along the pavements, and’ uproar deafens
the ear and distracts the mind—how little’ ye know what a
Sabbath really is! Ye have gorgoous hoyses of worship,
and gaily dressed assemblies, and pealing organs, and elo-
quent sermons—but no Sabbath. Would ye seo that as God




32 THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL.
made it, hie away to some remote rural district, where the
sober and religious population maintain their primitive
habits, uncontaminated by the neighbourhood of great
towns. What a delicious repose, the emblem of a holier
rest, pervades the wholo scene! No rail-car or steamboat,
puffing out fire and smoke, goes thundering by. No stage-
coach rolls noisily along the highway. ‘The roads are de-
serted, except where here and there grave worshippers,
single or in groups, are seen repniring to the temple of God.
Forest, and valley, and hill-side, lie sleeping in a dreamy
calm; and so wide and unbroken is the silence, that even
the note of the grasshopper strikes with clear distinctness
on the ear.

Such was the delightful quiet which prevailed, as Clara,
and her companion proceeded on their way. The church
to which they were bound stood on a green knoll a little
back from the village, embosomed in trees, and surrounded
by an enclosure of four or five acres. Ono side of this
enclosure was fenced off into a grave-yard, where many a
low mound and white stone guarded the dust that siumbered
beneath.” Although it was the home of fhe dead, there was
nothing sombre or gloomy in its appearance. It was laid
‘out in a very neat and tasteful manner, with shaded walke
winding through it; and almost every grave was thickly
planted with flowers and evergreen shrubs, testifying the
affoction of the living for the loved ones that lay there.
Here, before and after service, the people were accustomed
to resort, and to converse, in low, solemn tones, about their
deceased friends and neighbours, and the coming. time when
they themsolves should be laid by their side. The opposite
part of the enclosure was occupied by a row of sheds for
the accommodation of horses and vehicles; while at the
farther end, and in the rear of the chérch, stood the building
appropriated to the Sunday-schoal. The members of the
congregation thought too much of the health and comfort
‘of the school to put it into a damp under-ground basement,
even if their place of worship had been disfigured by such,
which it was nots and in erecting’a separate building for


THE SUNDAY-scHOOL. 33.

its use, they had known toe well what they wero about to
arrange tho premises in such a manner as to divide the
school, and compel it to meet in different rooms. In oppo-
sition to this mistaken policy, they had constructed a pica
sant and commodious edifice of ono storey, containing a
single apartment, easy of access, well ventilated, and suffi-
ciently large to allow all the pupils of both sexes to assom-
dle under the charge of one superintendent. And with a
viow of rendering it more attractive, they had encircled it
with trees and shrubbery, and had trained rosos, and honcy-
suckles, and other creeping plants, along the windows; so
that in summer time tho children sat there with the breath
of flowers stealing in upon them, From the church several
footpaths led off in various directions to tho farms and
dwellings in the vicinity; and a brond enclosed Jano, lined
with maples and poplars, connec ted it with the main road
and with the village.

Towards this sweet spot the pupils of the school were
now approaching from different points. Some came up the
valley by the river side; some from residences near at
hand; some from scattered habitations a milo or two away
among the hills. They came one by one, and in companies.
Here might be seon a curly-headed boy, with cherry checks
and a laughing eye, walking Isisurely along by himself,
stopping now and then to pick up a shining pebble, to trace
the flight of a bird, or watch tho gambols of a squirrel;
and there a band of brothers and sistors coming on together
and chatting merrily, the younger ones often starting from
the path to chase a butterfly, or gather a wild-flower, and
the older ones waiting for them, or calling after them to
come back. They came with light steps and joyous coun-
tenances. But while they were evidently very happy, and
showed their sympathy with tho gladness of evorything
around them, a quiet restraint seemed to hang upon the
natural exuberanco of their spirite, as if they felt that noisy
mirth was ill suited to that holy day.

Although it was not quite time to open the school, yet
most of the scholars were already there, when Clera and

°


24 ‘THE SUNDAY-soHOOL.

Frank arrived, Considerable surprise was felt, as thoro
well might be, at seeing her enter so attended; for it is
scarcely possible to imagine a greater contrast than that
which the two children presented. Clara was about eleven
years old, rather small and slender, but with a form of the
mnost perfect symmetry. Her face was slightly oval, and
the features finely chiselled. Her complexion had that
delicate, transparent tint, in which the rose struggles faintly
with tho lily; and her rich auburn hair, unfettered by braid
or comb, broke out from under her gipsy bonnet, and fell
in golden waves upon her shoulders. But that which most
struck the beholder was her eyes. They were of the purest
azure, and so vivid in their expression, that they seemed
to reflect from their clear depths all the bright thoughts
that were constantly bubbling up in her mind, and flowigg
from her tongue. She was a most beautiful child; anc
every look and motion evinced the ease, intelligence, and
grace of a rare and gifted nature, fostered by maternal care
and developed by skilful culture. Frank, on the contrary,
was rather a rough specimen of humanity. He was not
misshapen or deformed, nor was the general cast of his
countenance repulsive in itself But he was extremely
uncouth. His face and hands were deoply embrowned by
the sun and wind; and his wild, untrimmed locks, from:
frequent exposure without a hat, had been scorched into a
dull yellow. His gait was shambling, his gestures ungainly 5
and his whole appearance bore marks of the ignorance and
neglect in which he had lived.

Little did Clara notieb of all this, or if she did, little did
she care for it. As the poor, untaught lad, startled by the
new faces before him, and ahashed by a feeling of awk-
wardnoss, hesitated and shrunk back, it was beautiful to
see how kindly’ she encouraged him, and how gently she
spoke to him, and with what winning ways che strove to
yeassure.and put him at his ease.” Scarcely less interesting
was it to observe the pleasure which she showed in having
been the means of bringing him. there, and the innocent
triymph with which she regarded her success.




‘RE SUNDAX-SCHOOK. 35

Leading him up to the superintendent, who was standing:

at his desk preparing to commence the exercises, she said—
“0, Mr. Lawrence, I have brought a newscliolar. Hore’s

Frank Haynes come to join us. Are not you glad!”

“Yes, Clara, Iam vory glad, and 1 thank you for the
pains you have taken to persuade him to come, and hope
God will reward you for it. I am always pleased when
any one is added to the school; and Iam still more pleased.
that our dear little pupils show such an intorest in. its
increase.\

Then tumidg to Frank, he gave him an affectionate
greeting, and said,—

«Iam most happy to see you, my young friend, and in
the name of the whole school bid you a cordial welcome.
‘You have done wiscly in resolving to unite with us in the
study of God’s holy Word; and you will never regret it.
My dear children,” ho continued, addressing the school,
“thoro is afresh recruit come to enlist in our little army.
Are you not all glad to receive him?”

‘The girls said “ Yes" with a pleasant smile, and the boys
said “Yes” with a hearty shout, and crowding up around
the new comer, and shaking him warmly by the hand,
seemed so glad to sce him, and said so many kind things to
him, that Frank thought they were the finest fellowg in the
world, and began to forget his bashfulness, and to feel him-
self quite at home.

‘These demonstrations over, the superintendent: began to
consider in what manner he should dispose of Frank so as
‘Dest to secure his improvement. After reflecting a while,
he called up to him one ‘of the teachers, a young man by
tho name of Seymour, who was distinguished for his intelli-
Bence and picty, and possessed a remarkable talént for
communicating instruction.

“Mr. Seymour,” ho said, “have you a vacant seat in your
class?”

« Yes, sir,” was the reply.

“Will you undertake the chargo of this ladt You will
find him ‘very ignorant, Iam-sfraid, and may have much
36 ‘THE SUNDAY-scHOOL.

trouble in making him comprehend what you wish to teach
him?”

“I do not fear trouble, when a soul is to be erilightened
and saved.” ‘ -

“I know you do not; and I, therefore, commit him to
your hands with entire confidence that you will take all
possible pains to instil into his mind the truths of the
Gospel.”

‘Thus the matter was arranged; and Mr. Seymonr ad-
drossing Frank in a very kind and-encouraging manner, led
him to a seat with the class of boys over which he pre-
sided.

‘Tho bell now rang for the exercises to commence, and
the children at once took their places. Tho superintendent
then gave out from a little book which they used, called
‘The Harp, tho beautiful hymn beginning with the lines—

“How happy ts the child who hears
Tnstruction’s warning votes,
And who celestial Wisdom makes
Bis -arly, only choice.”

‘When tho hymn had been read, the teachers and scholars
all joined in singing it. Frank was very much affected.
He had heard rude boys and ruder men screaming out
coarse, vulgar ballads at fairs and other merry-makings;
‘but he had nover before listened to anything like this. ‘Tho
words wore so solemn ; the tune was so aweet; the voices of
the children, especially of the little girls, blended so prettily
with the deeper and fuller notes of the teachers; and the
combined harmony broke forth so richly on the still morn-
ing air, and floated away so delightfully amid the sunshine
and the flowers, that Frank hardly knew what to think of it.
Ho looked up at the ceiling. He looked out of the win-
dows. He rubbed his eyes with his sleeve. He felt
strangely. Where was he? In a new world, euro.

‘When tho singing was concluded, the wholé company
kneeled down by their forms, and covered their faces with
their hands. Frank imitated the movement, though he
scarcely urderstood what it meant. Soon he heard the
THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL. a7

voice of the superintendent, as if speaking to some one.
He raised his eyes to learn who it was that he was address-
ing; but he saw only bowed heads on every side of him,
and Mr. Lawrence standing by his desk, and talking ear-
nestly. He buried his face in his hands again, and listenod.
In a few moments, he discovered, from the expressions usod,
that Mr. Lawrence was praying. He was conversing with
the great God who lives in heaven, who knows all things,
and can destroy us in a moment. Frank was awed. He
thonght it a solemn thing to be in the same room with a
man who was talking to God, and talking, too, as if God
‘was very nigh and heard him.

The prayer being finished, the scholars resumed their
seats, and opened their Bibles. The lesson which they
were to study that morning, was tho Parable of the Pro-
digal Son, Frank could read a little, having been for a
short time in the publie school; but he had rarely opened
the Bible, and knew almost nothing of its contents.“ The
subject of the lesson was, therefore, quite new to him; and
as his teacher proceeded to explain the parable, and to put
questions to the class concerning it, and to press home upon
them its practical application to their own state, his atten-
tion was gradually aroused, and his interest awakened.
He did not understand very clearly much of what was said ;
for although Mr. Seymour used the plainest language, and
studiously endeavoured to adapt both his thoughts and his
expressions to the capacity of the youngest and least in-
structed of his pupils, yet Frank was so unfamiliar with
religious ideas, and with the terms in which they are con-
veyed, as to be able to form only an indistinct conception
of thiir meaning. But the story of the prodigal affected
him, It seemed likea picture of himself. He thought that
he, too, had been ‘all his life far away from good. Tho
sweet words and simple cloquonce of the inspired narratiye
touched his heart, and strengthened within him the desire
and tho hope of amendment.
2s A PARADLE EXPOUNDED,

CHAPTER VI.
A PARABLE EXPOUNDED,

‘Wnen the teachers had gone through the lesson with their
classes, the superintendent rang his bell to call the attention
of the school, and then, taking up the subject with which
they had been occupied, made one of those addresses of
which Glara had spoken in such high praise.

“ Well, children,” he said, “how do you like your lesson
to-day ?”

“Very much indeed,” they all answered.

“What has it been about?”

“A parable.” ,

“Can any of you tell me what a parable is?”

All were sitent, except a little bright-oyed girl, who,
blushing, and looking hurriedly round upon the rest, as if
frightened at her own boldness, lisped out—

“A pretty story, sir.”

“Well done, my little Mary; you havo hit it exactly.
Yea, a parable is a story, or short narrative of incidents, real
or supposed, intended to illustrate spiritual truths. In this
parable, our Lord tells us of a father that had two sons
‘whom he loved very tenderly, and to whom he showed every
proper indulgence. The young men might have been very
happy, for they had a deligh$fal home, where they were
allowed a great inany comforts and innocent pleasures, and
had nothing to do except what was for their good. But the
younger son became dissatisfied. Ho did not like to submit
to his father’s authority. He got the foolish and wicked
notion into his head, that he was kept in too much, and that
he should be happier if ho could set up for himself, and act
as he pleased, without any oneto control him. So he asked
his fathor to give him that portion of the family property
which would one day be his, and he would go and sock his
fortune. The good man Was exceedingly grieved that his




A PARABLE EXPOUNDED. 39

dear boy wanted to Ieave him, but judged it best, on the
whole, to let him have his way, hoping that experience
would soon cure him of his folly. Having obtained this
reluctant consont, the ungrateful fellow packed up all his
money and clothes, and turning his back upon his kind old
father, and on the pretty spot where he had been born and
brought up, without caring whether he ever saw them again,
went off as fast as he could ‘into a far country” What do
you think of such a fellow as that?”

« lo was very naughty,” they all said.

“Yes, he was not only very naughty, but, like most boys
that wish to escape from parental control, he was very silly
too, as the result showed. For, instead of engaging in some
useful and profitable business, by which he might husband
and increase what he had brought with him, he fancied him-
self excessively rich, and squandered his substance as if there
was no end to it. What with the careless way in which he
kept. it, the gay clothes he bought, the sumptuous manner
in which he lived, the dissolute company he entertained, he
inside it fly very fast, you may be sure. While his money
lasted, he had plenty of friends. Crowds of idle and profli-
gate associates followed him wherever he went. Little did
they care into what extravagance they led him; it was no
concern of theirs; he paid for all. His patrimony, as you
‘may suppose, was soon gone ; and then all these wicked
companions that had fed upon him, flattering his vanity, and
telling him what a fine, generous fellow he was, dropped off
‘one by one, and left him alone.in his shamo and beggary.
To aggravate his distress, ‘there arose a groat famine” just
about this time ; so that food was dearest when he had the
Jeast means of procuring it. Ho was poor and miserable
enough now. He had not a penny to buy himself a dinner,
or got a new coat, or a pair of shoes ; and not one of those
who had helped him to spend'his money while ho had it,
would lend him a farthing. What was he to dot Should
he go back to his father, and tell him how wicked and'diso-
bedient he had been, and ask to be restored to his favour!
Should he submit to the mortification of hearing his former






40 A PARABLE EXPOUNDED.

acquaintance say, ¢ Here's that youngster that hold his head
so high, and went away so grand, boasting what great things
he would do. Poor work he has made of it! There he is,
all in rags, without a penny in his pocket, and looking as if
he had not slept in a bed, or eaten a meal for weeks? No,
he would not do that. He would, beg, he would starve, ho
would even work first. So he looked about him for employ-
ment. But he found it very difficult to getany. ‘The famine
made business very dull ; and decent people did not like to
hire a person whose face, and trembling limbs, and tattered
fiinry, told so strongly of recent dissipation. At length he
heard of a man that lived a long way off in a wild part of
the country, and had a great estate on which immenso
herds of cattle and swine wero kept. Having no other
resource left, he resolved to seek out this man, and see if he
would not give him something to do that would keep him
from starving. After a long journey over rongh and hilly
roads, he reached the place at last, so weary, footsore, and.
hungry, that he could hardly stand. The man had a great
many labourers already, and did not need any more; but as
the applicant seemed helpless and forsaken, he thought it a
good chance to get work done without paying for it. So he
concluded to take him. And what sort of business do you
suppose he put him at ?”

“ Feeding the pigs,” cried a flaxen-haired urchin, about
seven yeats old, holding up his head, and looking as if he
thought he had said something very smart.

“You are right, my little man: ‘He sent hin: into his
fields to feed swine’ Now you know, children, that among
the Jews, whom our Saviour was addressing, swine were
regarded with peculiar abhorrence as unclean animals,
whose flosk their law forbade them to use. Hence, in their
view, to tend swino was ono of the most degrading oceupa-
tions in-which it was possible to engage. We thus seo to
what wretched debasement a course of disobedience leads.
‘Here was this young man, who, while 2t home, had always
been chorished and caressed, and of whom no service had
ever been required which it was not an honour to him to per-
A PARABLE EXPOUNDED. 41

form, reduced so low in consequence of his waywardness, as
to be compelled to stoop to tho disreputable calling of wait-
ing upon foul and filthy beasts, the very sight of which was
an abomination to all his ideas and feclings. But though he
lowered himsolf to such mean task, he could not thereby
supply his necessities. His master was an avaricious man,
who not only refused to pay him any wages, but'was so cruel
as to deny him the coarsest food. So painful was his hanger,
that he would gladly have stilled its cravings by eating the
husks or pods of the carob-tree,* with which the swine were
fed ; but even this he was not permitted to do.

«In the extremity of his sufferings, he began at length to
seo his past conduct in its true light. He awoke from his
forgetfulness of home. Reflection came back tohim. ‘With
agonizing sorrow he thought on the base return which he
had made for all his father’s care and love. Recollections
of his father’s house—of its many comforts; of-its plentiful
table, where even the lowest menial found ‘bread enough
and to spare ? of its old familiar faces, and of the happiness
which he once enjoyed there—roso up vividly to his mind,
and made his Ioneliness and destitution appear moro
terrible. His pride and obstinacy gave way. He deter-
mined to endure his present state no longer. He would go
back to his father. Justly offended by his ingratitude, his
father might rofuse to receive him as a son; no matter, ho
‘would become his servant. His carly associates might scorn
him ; leb them scorn, he deserved it. Home he would has-
ten, whatever his reception.

“Full of these repentant feclings, he abandons his hard
employer ; leaves the swine to take care of themselves, and
to eat as many husks as they like; and starts for home. It





imho Greck word, rendered“ Ausks" in our Engltsh New Testament,
aonoten the fult of a treo which fa very abundant tn Tealy, Eaypt, and Pales-
Une. “Itbears a great number of pods, of a curved diape Uke & hora, from
Seven to eight inches in Tongthy and Slfed with a whitish juice, slightly acid
in tanta, "These pods ere often given ax fod to cattle and swine; and are
rometimen eaton by To. in seasons of famine. ‘They, however, POS
ftom lito nutriment. and are considered very meagre fare. ‘Cho Grooks call
the tree eration, Horn-tree, and ite English namo is Carob.
42 A PARABLE EXPOUNDED.

was a long way ho had to travel, for ho had wandered off
to a great distance. Ho had deserts to cross, mountains to
climb, rivers to wade; but the memory of home stimulates
him to tho effort, and nerves him with endurance. Without
money, without clothes, without food, he presses forward,
up hill and down hill, through gloomy forests, and over
wide, barren plains; the cry of ‘Home! home! father!
father!’ bursting from his lips, and quickening his steps.
Onward—onward still—he goes. Weeks pass. The hot sun
scorches him by day ; tho damp earth is his bed by night.
His fect aro swollon and bleeding, and his emaciated limbs
reel and totter under his weight. At last thesad journey
is near its end. A stoep ascent rises before him, from the
top of which his father’s mansion can be seen. But his
exhausted strength can carry him no farthor. Faint, and
sick at heart, he lies down to die almost within sight of the
goal for which he has striven so long. And shall he dio
thus? No, no. Again the thought of the once loved ones
now so near him ‘breathes fresh vigour into his sinking
frame. He springs to his fect once more, and struggles
upward, shouting as Joud as his feeble voice will let him,
‘Home! home! father! father?”

“Meanwhile the father had not forgotten his still dear,
though orring child. His heart yearned after the wanderer,
and clung fondly to the hope that he would yct return. Of
every traveller that passed he made inquiries concerning
him. He hard of his riotous living ; then that he had spent
all; then that he was in great want; then that he had gone
no one knew whithor. He trusted that his distress would
bring him to his senses, and Iead him back to the arms that
longed to welcome him. In this expectation, he often
walked out along the road by which his son had departed,
or went up to a turret on the house-top, that commanded a
wide view over the plain, to see if he could discover any
sign of his coming. One day he was unusually agitated.
He moved restlessly from room to room. Wherever he
turned, he met something that recalled the lost one. He
thought of him as he had been when a little boy. He fell
A PARABLE EXPOUNDED. 43

ngain the pressure of his tiny hands clasping his knees, or
twining his hair; he heard agaiit the pattering of his nimblo
fect and the ringing of his merry voice.

“Unable longer to control his anxiety, he ascended to his
accustomed look-out. There he stood for a long time,
straining his eyes over the wide prospect, to catch some
glimpse of his returning son. Tho heavy hours drag on,
but he sees nothing. ‘The sun is sinking low; the shadows
are beginning to fall; still the fond parent continues his
eager watch. An object appears on the summit of the dis-
tant hill. It stops for a moment. It sinks to the ground.
It rises again, and moves slowly forward. Now it is hidden
from view by intervening trees. Now it emorges, nearer
and moro distinct. It is aman. ‘Is it—is it my son? asks
the anxious father, throwing his whole soul into his gaze.
«No, no, it cannot be. My son went forth crect and tall,
with youthful vigour and a bounding step ; but this one is,
weak and tottering, and bowei as by the weight of years or
sorrow.’ The wayfarer comes painfully down the dusty
path. He raisos his haggard face toward the old house,
and the old turret, and the venerable form that is leaning
out from it. The father seos that face, for a father’s eyes
can see far. Changed as it is, he knows it, and exclaiming,
“It is he! it is he!’ rushes from the turret, and down the
stairs, and out at the door, and up the road, fist as his aged
limbs can bear him. The son.sees his father running to
meet him, and mingled feelings of shame, penitence, and
love, swell and struggle in his bosom. Hoe staggers on a
fow paces, then falls weeping at his father’s fect, and sobs
out in broken accents, ‘Father, I have sinned against
Heaven and in thy sight, and am no more-worthy to be
called thy son’ Tho father clasps him round the neck,
covers him with kisses, presses him to his heart, and cries,
while tears stroam down his furrowed cheeks, ‘Myson, my
son, my long-lost son!” ‘Then he lifts him up and conducts
him into the house. He takes of his rags, and, clothes him
in holiday. attire, with shoes on his feet-and a ring on his
hand; and summoning his houschold, bids them prepare a


a4 A PATABLE EXPOUNDED,

feast to celebrate his arrival. © what joyous excitement
was there in that house that night! servants running to
and fro—huge fires blazing on the hearths and roaring up
the chimneys—tho fatted calf roasting—the great table
drawn out in the hall, groaning under its load of dainties
—bells ringing—music playing—happy voices sounding—
gladness in every eye, and congratulation on every lip,
because the lost was found, the dead was alive again !””

By this time many of the children were in tears, and‘some
weeping aloud. The superintendent, percoiving how deeply
they were affected, paused a moment to allow them to
become @ little more composed, and then continued—

“You have listened, my dear pupils, to this touching
account, and your looks show how much you are intorested.
in it. But now I want you to consider what itis designed to
teach. In the misguided young man, who left his father’s
house with the vain fancy that he should thus better his
condition, we have the likeness of all those who forsake
God, the fountain of living waters, and seek for happiness
in the paths of worldliness and sin. Such is naturally the
character of each one of us. We have gone away from our
heavenly Father, cast off his laws, and rojected his service.
And as the prodigal found only wretchodness and slavery
where he expected delight and freedom, so we can reap
from the seed of transgression nothing but a harvest of
shame and woe. The disobedient son, whose history wo
have traced, saw his folly bofore it was too late, and re-
turned with sincere contrition to his forgiving and loving
father. May the Holy Spirit convince us, in like manner,
of the guilt and misery that attend a state of alienation from
God, and, through faith in the atonement of Christ, bring us
back to the footstool of Divine mercy. Our Father in
heaven longs to recover and embraco every wandering
child; and if we go to him in true repentance, he will
graciously pardon all our offences; receive us as his sons
and daughters ; array us in the white rob of the Saviour’s
righteousness ; place on our hands the ring of adoptions
feast us in his banqueting house; and rejoice over us with


PROGRESS IN REYORM. 45

exceeding joy. And all holy beings will rejoice with him ;
for ‘there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over
one sinner that repenteth?

“In the parable which has been examined, there was ono
thing that marred the goncral gladness. The clder son
grudged the welcome given to his brother, and refused to
share in it. His conduct not only illustrates the selfish
bigotry of the Jews who murmured because the Gentiles
were admitted into the kingdom of God, but administers
reproof to all in every age who, favoured with high advan-
tages, look with contempt upon the neglected and destitute.
While weshould be thankful for the distinguished privileges
which we enjoy, and whilo we should make it our first
endeavour to secure a personal interest in the blessings of
the Gospel, it is also our duty to cherish a fraternal regard
for the ignorant and tho outcast, and to use every means
in our power to gather them into the fold of the great
Shepherd.” .

Many cyes were stealthily directed towards Frank, as
these words were uttered ; and if any had been inclined to
look down upon him, to ridicule his awkwardness, or to
laugh at his ignorance, they now felt ashamed of the very
thought, and resolved to treat him with particular kindness
and attention.

Another hymn having been sung, and prayer offered by
Mr. Seymour, the exercises of the morning were closed, and
teachers and scholars repaired to the church for the purpose
of engaging in publie worship.

CHAPTER VII.
PROGRESS IN REFORM.

‘Wonpznrot are the transformations wrought by the Sun-
day-school. It is the mightiest agency which tho world
has ever seen for the right education of youth. Not only
46 PROGRESS IN REFORM.

does it tend directly, and with great power, to imbue the
mind with divine knowledge, to open it to religious impres-
sions, and prepare the way for the converting energy of the
Holy Spirit; but its collateral results—the influence which
it wields in .olevating the degraded and reforming the
vicious—are of inestimable value. Under its moulding
hand, the idle become diligent ; the churlish and rude grow
refined; the ignorant acquire intelligence; the profane
learn to reverence the name of their Maker; the dissolute
are reclaimed; and those whose unchecked depravity
would have made them the pests of society, are rendered
virtuous, useful, and happy, the joy of their friends, and the
hope of their country.

‘These benign effects were soon visible in Frank Haynes.
He had attended the school but a short time, before his
whole bearing and conduct showed a marked improvement.
He left off his habits of lying, swearing, pilfering, and Sab-
bath-breaking. His speech became less vulgar, his manners
Jess clownish, his appearance more neat and orderly; and
so altered was his entire deportment, that the inhabitants
of the village could scarcely recognise in him the wild boy
who had fermerly given them so much trouble. Instead of
prowling about the neighbours’ premises, bent on mischief,
he employed himself in useful matters at home, and did
what he could to help his mother in her hard straggle with
poverty. He mended the broken windows, repaired the
fences, removed the litter from the yard, weeded the garden,
and hoed the corn and potatoes that were growing in the
little field. And he went to his work not in across and
surly manner, as he had formerly done whenever he could
be induced to work at all, but willingly and cheerfully, as
though it were a pleasure to him. His mother was sur-
prised and delighted at the change, and thought that if
going.to Sunday-school and to church could effect sucha
reformation in him, religion must be a very good thing for
poor peopls as well as for the rich. She felt happier than
she had been for many a long day} and often, as'she stood
in the low door of her rude dwelling, watching her son at
PROGRESS IN REFORM. 47

his work, she would say, while a pleased smile lighted up
her worn features, “La, now, what a nice, steady boy Frank
is getting to be. Who'd a thought it? I wonder what's
come over him?” *

The donkey wondered even more than she did, and would
have expressed his amazement very decidedly, if he had
only known how. It was a lucky day for him when Mrs.
Morton undertook to plead his cause. Frank remembered
her kind ‘intercession for poor Neddy, and determined :to
follow her advice, Of this hesoon gave her a very amusing
proof.

One morning, as Mrs. Morton and her daughter were
sitting in the parlour, the sound of 2 hoof caught Clara’s
ear. Rising and going to the window, she exelaimed—

* Mother, here’s Frank coming down the road, and how
funny he looks !””

Mrs. Morton went to the window and looked out. Frank
was approaching on tho back of his donkey. ‘Tho animal,
for a donkey, seemed in astonishing spirits. Ho looked
sleek and comfortable. Hoe capered, and frisked, and
scampered along as if running a race ; and all, apparently,
of his own free will. A glance solved the mystery. Frank
had fastened to tho end of a Jong pole a tin dish filled with
corn, and was holding it out before the donkey’s nose. On
coming opposite the cottage, he stopped, and taking off his
hat, and bowing respectfully, said—

“'m much obliged to you, Mrs. Morton, and to you, Miss
Clara, for getting me to go to the school. It’s a fine place,
and’ I’ve felt like trying to be a good boy ever since I've
‘been going there. I’m thinking you're right too, in what
you said about Neddy. I don’t beat him any more, and I
brush him nice, and give him plenty to eat, and he's got as
active asa deer. See, ma’am, when I put this before him,
how fast he goes. I give him a bite now and then, and he
likes it” and Frank, suiting the action to the word, thrust
the dish before the donkey’s mouth; at which sight Neddy
kicked up his heels, and went scouring down the road with
his. master.


43 PROGRESS IN REFORM.
Mrs. Morton laughed heartily at Frank’s novel method of
making his animal go, and then turning to Clara, eaid—

“Now, my daughter, you sco what a transformation in a
bad boy a little kindness can work. So trae is it, that
«Kindness, like the gentle breath of spring, melts the icy
heart?”

Several months passed, during which Frank persevered
in the good course on which ho had entered. Ho had
naturally quick parts, and as Mr. Seymour took great pains
in instructing’ -him, he made rapid progress. Ho soon
learned to read the Bible with ease, and to give intelligent
answers to the questions addressed to him by his teacher.
A thirst for knowledge sprang up in his mind. Ho became
very fond of reading, and loved to ocoujiy his evenings, and
other intervals of rest, with the books which he procured
from the Sunday-school library, or stich as he could borrow
ftom his friends. These he would often read aloud to his
mother, as she sat plying her knitting-needles, or repairing
some article of clothing. By degrees, she became so much
interested in what interested him, and.was so rejoiced by
the new mode of life he was leading, that he found little
difficulty in persuading her to go with him to church, and
to attend regularly upon the instraction which had proved
80 beneficial to himself. And it was a most lovely sight to
see this once turbulent and refractory boy quietly leading
his mother to the house of the Lord; sitting by her side,
-with an attentive. and reverent countenance, while the
‘message of divine truth was dispensed; turning round, and
nodding to her, or touching her arm now and thon, when
something was said that he thought particularly good, or
especially suited to their own case. Not lesa delightfal
was it to seo him on the Sabbath evening at home opening
the sacred volume, and regding to her its words of life;
often stopping to tell her what Mr. Lawrence or Mr. Sey-
mour had said about such a doctrine, or such. a fact in the
Scripture history,.or what jhe had learned about the birth,
and works, and! death of Christ; and then, when s chapter
or two hiad boon finished, taking up tho Pilgrim's Progress,


‘THE YOUNG TEMPTERS. 49

or Baxter’s Call, or the Saint’s Rest, or the Dairyman’
Daughter, and going over their thrilling pages with a
flushed check and an earnest utterance; while the poor
woman sat and listened, full of wonder at the new things
she heard. The order of nature was reversed. Tho child
had become the guide and teacher ; the mother the learner,
whom his lips counselled and his example led.





CHAPTER VIII.
THE YOUNG TEMPTERS.

Our friend Frank had much to encourage him in the better
way which he had chosen. Many hands were extended to
help him; many voices cheered him on. The neighbours
were pleased at his amendment, and spoke kindly to him;
and most of his young companions told him they were glad
he was becoming a good boy, and hoped he would go on as
he had begun,

This, however, was not the case with all. Some there
were who laid snares in his path, and endeavoured to draw
him back into his old course. It is one of the penalties of
evil habits, that they bring the sinnor in contact with wicked
associates, who, when any better fecling prompts him to
break away from his vices, strive to tighten his cords and
to ‘hold him fast. The people of Green Hollow and its
vicinity were remarkable for their sober-and religious
character; and their children were generally well governed,
and brought up in the fear of God. But there were some
exceptions. A few youths were to be found in the village,
who pursued a profligate career in defiance of public opinion
and parental control.. Foremost among them were three
lads; named Hugh Thompson, Ben Stiles, and Jim Savage.
With these Frank had. formerly been vory intimate; but
since his resolution to reform, he had withdrawn himself
and sought to'shnn their‘society. They wero ‘not inclined,


50 THE YOUNG TEMPTERS.
however, to let him go so easily, avd resolved to make an
effort to regain their influence over him.

"The fathers of these boys were farmers and near neigh-
bours. On an afternoon early in the ensuing autumn, it so
happened that all three were called from home on busi-
ness, and left the lads at work each in a field by himself.
No sooner were their fathers gone, than the disobedient,
youngsters abandoned the tasks assigned them, and got
together, determined ona frolic. Various plans of amuse-
ment were proposed and rejected, when it was finally set-
tled that they wonld go fishing. So they all ran to get their
fishing-tackle, and then went down to the river, and, taking
a boat,paddled out to the place where they intended to
pursue their sport. While thus engaged, they kept up an
idle conversation which was of no profit to themselves, and
would not be to the reader were we to repeat it. At last
Ben Btiles said abruptly—

“What on ’arth’s become o' Frank Haynes? I haven't
seen him but once or twice for ever so long.”

“Nor I neither,” replied Jim Savage, “and when I do
cross his track, he looks another way, as if he felt too big
to speak to a feller. Iecan’t think what's the matter with
him.”

“Why, don’t you know,” said Hugh Thompson, “that
Frank’s grown steady lately, as they call it ??

“No! He hasn’t, though!” exclaimed the others.

“Yos, he has. Ho's joined the Sunday-school, and reads
the Biblo; and when a chap does that, it’s casy to see
what'll be the end on’t. I met him t’other Sunday walking
with his mother to church, with a Bible and psalm book in
his hand, and looking as sober as Deacon Parsons himself.
He'll take to religion, I s’pose, and then maybe they’ll
make a minister on him, one o” these days.”

“Well, I’m sorry for't,” said Jim. “Frank used to be
one of the finest hands in the world for a spree; and there
are so few of the boys heré that are up to any fun, that I
dou't like to have him leave us.”

. “I don’t beliéve he will,” cried Ben, “He's not in
THE YOUNG TEMPTERS, oL

’arnest, depend on't, It's only one o” his tricks; he’s tryin”
to make game of the people. We'll bring him out on’t,
somehow.” %

“If we could manage to get him into one ‘of his old
scrapes,” said Jim, “that would do the business for him.
He wouldn't dare show his face either at church or Sunday-
school arter that.”

“I've thought of just-the plan,” said Hugh. “You know
Squire Goodwin who livesin the white house about half a
mile down the river. Well, he’s got the biggest lot o”
melons that-ever you seed. They’re away on the back
edgo of his corn-field, and not in sight of the house at all.
I was along there yesterday, and looked at ’em. They’ro
just about ripe, and there’s so many that the ground’s all
‘covered with’em. Now, I tell you what, boys; I've made
up my mind to have some o” them melons. Come, let's go
there to-morrow night arter tho folks are all a-bed. We'll
try and persuadd Frank to go with us. Ho's terrible fond
o” melons, and can’t refuse. And if he joins us, we'll con-
trive to have him found out some way. He'll be ashamed.
then to make any more fuss about being good, and will be
a wild, rattlin’ feller again, as he used to be.”

“‘Hurra, that’s capital!” shouted the two other boys;
“that'll fix him, sure asa gun. But who's to undertake the
job? Who'll get him to go?”

“Well, perhaps I'd better be the one to try,” answered
Hugh. “Frank and I were once pretty thick, and I guess I
can come it over him yot.”

To this the others agreed; and the young reprobates,
finding the fish had left off biting, and thinking more of the
fish they wanted to catch on the land than of those they:
couldn't catch in the water, drow up their hooks, and went
home,

‘Tho next morning, while Frank was busily at work wood-
ing his mother’s Little patch of corn, so as to let the sun
in upon the ears, that they might ripen the faster, Hugh
‘Thompson came asuntering down the lane, and seeing Fronk
in the ficld, got over the funce, and went to him.


52 ‘THE YOUNG TEMPTERS.

“How are ye, Frank? How’ve yo been this long time!”

Frank had no wish for Hugh’s socioty, knowing what a
vicious fellow he was; but remembering the scriptural
command, * Bo courteous,” he answered civilly—

“Ym very well, I thank you. How’ve you been getting
along?”

“Morry as acrickot. But, Frank, it seems to me you're
*mazing industrious. What's got into yon lately? I’ve
hardly seen you this summer. “You haven’t been fishing or
‘boating with us once. You wasn’t at the last training, and
there’s been two or three sprees up on the hill, where. they
had lots o” fun; and Ben, and Jim, and I wore there, and
we thought you'd be too, but you wasn’t. Why in the
world do you keep yourself so close?”

“I haven’t much time for play. Mother's very unwell,
and needs all I can do; and when I have a little leisure,
V’d rather spend it in reading than in tramping about the
country.”

“But you might have a little sport now and then, on
Sundays, as you used to do.”

“Ono. I’ve seen that all that was very wrong. I now
g0 to Sunday-school and chureh, and the rest of the day I
read the Bible and good books to mother ; and I’m a great
deal happier than I was when I did differently.”

* But you'll mope yourself to death, if you go on so.
©All work and no play ’ll make Jack a dull boy.’ Come
now, let’s have one good frolic for the sake of old times.
Some of us fellers are goin’ to have a real bit o’ fan to-
night. There's Squire Goodwin has got a famous melon-
patch, in an out of the way sort 0’ place, where nobody can
see you. Well, we're goin’ there, and we want you to go
with us. There's heaps of em, more than he knows what
to do with, and he’d give us as many as we liked, if we only
asked him; but that, you know, wouldn’t be half so plea-
sant as to take em ourselves. It aint no harm to pick a
fow melons without leave, when they’re.so plenty. Every~

body does it; and people only laugh at the feller that loses
*em.”


‘Tie YOUNG TEMPTERS. 53

«No,I can’t go. It wouldn't be right. Squire Goodwin
is an honest man, that docs well by all, and is very kind to
the poor. Only last winter, when the snow was so deep,
and everything so dear, he sont mother three bushels of
wheat, and several bags of potatoes, and a great load of
wood, all cut and split for the stove. And do you think Pll
be so mean as to go and steal his melons! No, I'd sooner
never taste one as Jong as I live,” cried Frank, enorgeti-
cally. “Ivo done such tricks, I know; but P'm ashamed
enough of °em now. Besides, it’s downright stealing, after
all your smoothing it over. It’s as much stealing to take a
man’s melons without his consent, as it is to take his horse
or his cow, and the Bible says, ‘Thou shalt not steal? I
darn’t do it, and I won’t, and you mustn’t.”

“Mustn’t ! Pd like to know how you're goin’ to stop us?”

“Well, I shall be sorry to have to do it, but if you don’t
promise to let this business alone, I'll go to Squire Goodwin
this very day, and tell him what you're“up to. He'll con-
trive some way to stop you, I guess.”

“You will, will you? Now just you look hore, Frank.
You're a mean, tattling coward, and haven't a bit o” pluck
in you. We're goin’ to have them melons to-night, and
you, nor all the Squire Goodwins in Green Hollow, shan’t
hinder us. But if you dare blab one word about it to him
or anybody else, wo'll give you the best thrashing you ever
had in your life. So you'd better take car

«I'm no coward, Hugh,” said Frank, quietly but firmly,
“for I'm not afraid to do right.”

Hugh, turning away, leaped over the fence, and ran up
the lane in great wrath, shaking his fists, and uttering the
‘most outrageous threats and imprecations. When he was
out of sight, Frank carried his hoe into the house, and
brushing his hair, and putting on his coat, walked down to
Squire Goodwin's.

‘The squire was a regular old hero, of true, native, un-
adulterated breed. He was now about sixty-five years of
ge, halo and vigorous, with a tall and muscular frame, on
which the frosts of time seemed to make as little impression




54 THE YOUNG TeMPrens.-

as the winter snows did on the cliffs of his own mountains.
He had been a soldier, and had fought bravely for his
country on more than one woll-fought field. After pence
was declared, he purchased his present farm, then mostly
an uncultivated common, and laboured hard to clear his
Jand, and bring it under cultivation. In process of time, he
married, trained wp ‘t~argze and promising family of chil-
dren, and, by frugality and industry, became opulent. His
intelligence and good character made him one of the leading
men of the place; and he now held tho office of justice of
the peace, and was much consulted on local affairs. With
the gravity suitable to his years, there was mingled a sly,
quict humour, that often showed itself in his sayings and
doings. He was apt to indulge in harmless practical jokes

and when he caught unruly boys committing depredations
on his premises, he would frequently inflict on them some
amusing punishment which, without hurting, would expose
them to so much ridicule, that they seldom repeated the
offence. And this he would do in the most good-natured
way imaginable; for there was not a particle of harshness
or severity in his disposition. He was very open-hearted
and hospitable, had a large house, and appeared to be never
so happy as when he saw his friends and neighbours sur-
rounding his well-furnished table. He delighted?to do kind
things, such as sending baskets of early fruit or Fare vege-
tables to those who were not in asituation to procure them ;
while to the sick and the needy he was as a, ministering
angel. Everybody loved the squire, and well they might;
for a more frank, generous old fellow never walked. In
addition to these estimable qualities, and as the crown and
glory of them all, he was a sincere and devoted Christian,
the right hand of his pastor, active in prayer-meetings,
prompt and liberal in religious enterprises, always devising
good, and always foremost in accomplishing it. ‘The Sun-
day-school, however, was his‘special favourite ; and rarely
did he allow a Sabbath to pass without dropping in to give

© word of encouragement to the teachers, or of counsel to
the scholars.
ATH YOUNG TEMPTERS. 5S

The squire was at work in his garden, pulling onions
from their beds, and tying them in strings ready to be hung
up for future use. He know Frank very woll, and had
taken a lively interest in his recent behaviour; and as the
latter now approached, he met him with @ cordial smile,
and a warm shake of the hand.

«Pm glad to soo you, my boy; how are yout”

« Protty well, I thank you, sir.”

“And how goes the school nowt Do you like it as well
as ever?”

“0 yes, sir, I like it better and better. I wouldn't leave
it on any account.”

«I'm happy to hear you say so. What did you think of
the last book I lent you, the Pilgrim's Progress, was it
not?” ig

“0, sir, it’s the most wonderful book—just like a picture
all through. They call it a dream ; but I dou’t think it’s »
dream at all, It seems as real as life to me. I can see all
the places and all the people there, just as plain as if they
were painted. And I can see Christian going up to the
Wicket Gate, and passing through it, and then walking on
towards the Celestial City; and every step ho takes, I fool
as if I wanted to go with him. I’m glad he got rid of his
great pack, thongh; it must have tired him dreadfully to
have carried that all the way.”

* Yes, it is a famous description of the believer’s journey:
from this world of sin to the kingdom of glory—a journey.
which I hope you will travel, Frank. But what brings you
here to-day? Your mother is not worse than common, is
shor” 2

No; she’s about as usual. I’ve come, squire, on a bu:
ness I don’t like at all. Hugh Thompson, Jim Savage, and
Ben Stiles, have agreed to rob your melon-patch to-night j
and they wanted me to be one, but I refused, and threatened
if they didn’t give it up I'd tell you. They wouldn’t listen
to me, and so I thought I ought to let you know.” =

“You've done right, and I’m much obliged to you. Ab,
they’re sad fellows. [ve talked to them often, and tried alt


56 THE YOUNG TEMETERS.

I could to persuade them to mend their ways; but thoy
only laugh, and get more headstrong every day. So they
mean to steal my water-melons, do thiéy? I don’t think they
will. You see, Frank, it isn’t the melons I care for; there's
enough of ’em, and they might have as many as they can
carry for the asking. But after I've worked hard to raise
the fruit, I don’t like to lose the pleasure of giving it away,
if D’ve a mind to do so. And worse than that, if I let these
chaps steal my melons, theyll grow bolder by success, and
steal something of more value; and then my neglect will
help them on to ruin. Iwon’t have it so; they shan’t do
it; I'll fix 'em,” said the old man, throwing his huge arms
about, and pretending to look very blustering, while a sly
twinkle crept into the corners of his blue eyes, as if some
comical thought had just crossed his mind.

You won’t hurt ’om, will you ?” inquired Frank.

“Nos I nover hurt anything if I can help it. But PU
give ’em such a taste of water-melons, that the very name
shall make them feel sick as long as they live.”

Frank knew, from tho expression of the sqnire’s face, that
some very queer chastisoment was in store for the plunderers,
and he would have liked much to stay and sce the fun, only
he thought it wouldn’t do. As he was turning to leave, the
squire said to him— _

“Well, my boy, seeing you have taken the trouble to
come and tell me this, go out into the patch and pick your-
self the biggest melon you can find.”

“I thank you, sir, but if yon please I'd rather not.”
«What's the reason? I thought-you loved melons.
“80 I do, very niuch ; but I wouldn’t like you to give me.

I don’t want ’em to say you paid me for telling.”

“Whew! You're getting very nice ideas there at the
Sunday-school, I see. Maybo you're right, thongh. But
you can tako a basket of apples to your mother ” ce

«No, I think I’d better not, now. Somo other time I
will, and thank you kindly. Good day, squire.”

‘Good-by, Frank. ‘There's more in you thaw I supposed,
though I'd begun to have pretty strong hopes of you.




THE MELON-PATCH. 57

You have shown a high sense of integrity and honour, and
if you go on in this way, you'll make a first-rate man when
you grow up.”

CHAPTER IX.
THE MELON-PATCH.

Dunine the day, the squire kept busily at his occupation,
without saying anything of what he had heard, or of what
he intended todo. He appeared grave and serious as usual,
excopt that occasionally he would rub his chin with his
hand as if thinking; and then an odd kind of twitching
motion would go over his face, and pucker up the cornera
of his mouth, and pull at his eyelids till they were half
shut. Whether it was the pungent odour of the onions that
disturbed his organs, or whether certain ludicrous fancies
that had got into his head, were thus peeping out at the
windows, our young readers can guess as well as we.

‘The old gentleman had two sons living at home with him,
broad-shouldered, long-legged, stout, hardy boys, standing
more than six feet each in his stockings. Their names wero
John and William. When the young men came in from
the field in the evening, the father called them out aftor
supper to the lawn in front of the house, and told them of
the meditated invasion, and of the manner in which he pur-
posed to receive the fue. All three seemed amazingly
tickled. The father chuckled, and poked his fingers into the
ribs first of the one son and then of the other; and the sons
haw-hawed, and shook their vast frames, and twisted their
broad, good-natured countenances into all sorts of merry
contortions. When their mirth had a little subsided, they
set about their preparations. A bright fire was built in the
kitchen, and a table spread and covered with.a large quan-
tity of melons, nicaly cut into slices, of which they all par-
took heartily; and then the squire sprinkled profusely a


58 THE MELON-PATCH.

solution of tartar-emetic on tho remainder. “Then three
enormous guns were rummaged out and brought down from.
the garret. The patriarch of the lot was an old military
musket, of immense size and weight, which the squire had
borne in his youthful campaigns, and whose huge mouth
had blazed and roared over many a battle-field. The others
were ducking guns, with long barrels and wide bores. ‘These
the young men loaded with powder only, making the charge
as heavy as the stout tubes wonld bear, and ramming it
down smartly to increase the report. ‘These arrangements
completed, the squire ordered his wife and daughters to
keep up the fire, and then, calling Pompey, a mastiff of
monstrous bulk and power, he and his sons shouldered their
muskets, and departed for the scene of action.

‘The melon-patch, as Hugh had said, lay at some distance
from the house, and was concealed from it by rising ground,
and an intervening corn-ficld. It was situated at the far
ther end of this field ; and on threo sides of it, the tall stalka
of the maize shot up thick and bushy, and completely hid
itfrom view. On the other side ran a deep ditch, which had
been dug for the purpose of draining the low land adjoining,
and which, as hoavy rains had lately fallen, was now nearly
filled with muddy water. At the outer edgo of the ficld,
this ditch was cfossed by a narrow foot-bridge leading into
a pasture, and a strip of woods beyond.

Such was the spot destined to become memorable by the
oxploits of the squire. Arrived on the ground, he posted
his forees very judiciously. John he placed on the sido
next to the bridge; on the opposite side ho stationed Wil-
liam ; while he and Pompey took up their position on the
side nearest to the house. Here screened by the high corn,
they’ lay in ambush waiting the approach of the enemy.

Meanwhile Hugh and his party, stealing away from their
homes as soon as the dusk of evening had spread its obsour-
ing veil, met-at the outskirts of the village, and set forth
on their expedition. They chose a circuitous route thatled
them out of sight of any dwellings, and by which they would
come in at the back of the squire’s farm, and passing through
THE MELON-PATCH. 59

the woodland and pasture, reach the sceno of their intended
Plunder, As they were walking slong, Jim suddenly in-
quirea—

«Why, where’s Frank? Isn’t he with us?”

“No,” answered Hugh; “the chicken-hearted foller
wouldn’t come. And he talked big: too, and preached me
quite a sermon about stealing, and all that, ha! ha! hal
and said if wo didn’t promise to stay away he'd tell the
squire. But he'll not do that; he knows we'd thrash him
and he’s a great coward, as all these Sunday-school boys
are.”

“I don’t know; Frank's pretty resolute, when he's
roused.”

“Well, I don’t care if he does tell. I'm not afeared. of
the squire, nor of his big sons and his big dog neither.
V1 have some water-melons to-night, if they’re all there to
stop me.”

Soon they emerged from the woods, and came out into the
upper part of the pasture, from which the squire’s houso
could be seen.

«Look, boys,” ericd Ben. “ What a light there is in the
squire’s windows. I wonder what makes his folks stay up
so Inte to-night ?”

“Maybe Frank's told em,” said Jim, “and they're
watching for us. Let’s go back, and try it some other
time.”

“Pshaw I exclaimed Hugh, impatiently, “I thought
you'd more spunk, Jim. What if they be upt They can’t
See us from the house.” me

So they kept on through the pasture, and crossing the
little “bridge, crept cautiously to the melon-patch. In
passing the strip of corn in which John was posted, they
came so near his hiding-place, that he thought they would
certainly discover him; but they did not, Having reached
the vines, thoy got down on ti.cir hands dnd knees, and
began to feel about among the melons, and to thump them
with their fingers, in order to select, as well as they could
in the dark, the largest and ripest.
60 THE MELON-PATCH.

“O, here’s a whopper!” cried Ben. “It’s as big as &
pumpkin, and it’s real ripe too, I know, ‘cause it rings so.
dull. I can’t carry more than two such fellers as this.”

At that moment, Pompey, whom his master had restrained
with the utmost difficulty ever since the intruders made
their appearance, uttered a low growl, and rattled the corn-
leaves with his il. The boys sprang to their feet.

“ What's that?” said Jim and Ben, in a suppressed whis-
per, and shaking all over.

«0, it’s only the wind, or maybe one of the squire’s
hogs that’s got into the corn-field,” replied Hugh, in the
same stifled tone, striving to keep up his courage, but find-
ing it fast oozing away.

An instant of silence followed, when the squire, who had
fought with Indians in his youth, and-had learned to imitate
their yell, gave a tremendous war-whoop, and thundered
out—

“Thieves! Thieves! Fire, John! Shoot ’em, Bill!
Seize ‘em, Pompey !”

Whiz—z—Whang! went the old musket, fizzing at the
pan, and then going off with a noise like a cannon, and
belching out fire and smoke enough to do credit to a small
voleano. Bang! bang! went the quicker and sharper reports
of the newer pieces. Bow! wow! wow! roared Pompey,
snapping his teeth, and tearing through the corn like a
whirlwind.

“0, I'm killed! I'm killed!” screamed Jim, falling flat on
his face, “there's thre’ bullets and ever so many buck shot
gone right through me.” And there ho lay, bellowing like
a calf, till Pompey seized him by the back, tore his coat,
and covered him all over with froth from his great mouth,
and might have done him some mischief, had not the squire
éome up, afid-made the boy his prisoner.

‘Thinking in his terror only of the shortest way of escape,
Ben ran straight towards the ditch, forgetting it was there ;
and the first he knew of it was when he plumped into it up
to his neck in mud and water. Here he puffed,and floun-
dered, and tried hard to gain the opposite side, his feet






THE MELON-PATCH. 61

sticking in the soft bottom, and sinking deoper every
minute ; when William saw him, and shouted, with a loud
Jaugh—

«
‘The dog phinged in, and seizing the struggling lad by the
hair, pulled him so near the bank, that William got hold of
him and dragged him on dry land ; where he lay dripping
with slime, shivering with cold, and looking as forlorn as a
half-drowned puppy.

Hugh, though nearly as much frightened as the others,
had rather more presence of mind, and, therefore, made at
once for the bridge. John nearly caught him as he passed ;
but he managed to slip by, and to got over the bridge, and
into the pasture, with John after him. Hugh was a lithe,
vigorous Jad, and light of foot as an antelope; and fear
now Jent him speed. But ho might as well have tried to
run frony the man in the seven league boots as from the
long legs of John, On came the young giant, swinging his
great arms like the shafts of a windmill, and striding over
the ground like an avalanche. Hugh saw and heard him ;
he heard the sound of those tremendous leaps coming
nearer and nearer; he strained every muscle to its utmost
tension; his breath grew short and thick; his heart beat
like a hammer; a little farther, and the wood will be
reached—but in vain: a heavy hand is on his shoulder,
and a voice, half choked with laughter and running, says
in his ear—

“Why, Hugh, you're a smart one; but you're caught at
last; and you're not the first rogue I’ve caught, neither.”

«Is that you, John?” said Hugh, wriggling and striving
to twist himself from the strong grasp that hold him, “ O
let me go; I'l not come here any more.”

“I don’t think you will; but I’ve not done with you yet.
Father wants you all brought up to the house, and wa
always obey father.” And lifting Hugh as if he had been
an infant, he bore him back to the melon-patch.

The enemy were now all captured, and the squire and
hijs sons, collecting their prisoners, led them towards the
2 THE MELON-PaTcr.

house, Pompey marching behing, and snuffing at their legs
as if he meant to bite them. Having arrived there, the
squire compelled the Iads to go in, and placing chairs,
invited them to be seated, observing that they must be
tired after their long walk. Mrs. Goodwin and her daugh-
ters also spoke pleasantly to them, and asked them where
they had been, and why they were out so late, and whether
they wouldn’t come nearer the fire. The boys were greatly
perplexed to know what was going to.be done with them,
and would much rather have doclined all civilities ; but as
they were completely in the power of their captors, they
thought it best to comply. After thoy had boon seated
a while, the old gentleman said—

“You see, youngsters, we rather suspected some of our
friends might call on us to-night, and would like a few
melons; so we thought we would have some all cut and
ready for them. Come, draw up, and eat as much as you
please. We won’t take any, as we had them at supper.”

The involuntary visiters begged hard to be excused.
They made all sorts of objections. They did not wish any.
They had plenty at home. But as the squire persisted,
they dared not refuse. They looked round at the great
guns, and the, great dog, and the two great young men;
and would have eaten their own fingers if they had been
told to do so. ‘hey, therefore, gathered round the table,
and began to partake of tho fruit. After the first taste, they
hesitated, and glanced oddly at each other. But the squire
did the honours so courteously, and urged them to help
themselves with a manner so cordial, and yet so imperative,
that they went on swallowing the pieces of melon, till they
could hola no more. Thon the squire, releasing them,
said—

“Now, boys, you may go home; if you want any melons
again, Iet me know, and P'll have more ready for you.”

On reaching tho road, the boys ran as fast as they could,
till they were almost out of breath; then, getting a little
over their fright, they slackened their pace, and began to
rave in no measured terms. Their spite was especially


THE MELON-PAToH. 63

directed against Frank, and they made many threats of
what they would do to him.

“I know he told on us,” said Hugh, “and I'll pay him
fort; see if I don’t. What aro you lagging behind there
for, Ben? Why don’t you keep up?”

“
“Pooh! It's your ducking; you haven't got 0%
yet.”

« And I'm sick too,” said Jim.

“You! no wonder—you were so scared.”

“And warn’t you scared? I thought you looked like
it?

“Me! No, only a little surprised, that’s all.”

They walked on for a time, moving, slower and slower,
Hugh remaining silent, and seoming: very downcast. At
Jength he spoke.

«I tell you what, boys, I believe we're p'isoned ; the old
feller has put somethin’ into them melons; I thought they
tasted queer.”

“O dear! O dear !” cried the others, “Iet’s run to the
doctor's.”

But they were too ill to run. They lay down upon the
grass by’ the road-side, a good deal sick, and terribly
frightened. They supposed. they were going to die; and,
like most sinners when arrosted by the prospect of sudden
death, they were greatly alarmed in view of their pust
conduct, and made many promises to lead better lives
should they recover—promises, alas, how often made, but
how seldom kept! After a while, the distressing nausea
passed away in part, and they rose from the ground and
‘went home, fecling very weak, mean, and discomfited.




e4 THE AssAULT.

CHAPTER X.
THE ASSAULT.

Ow the next Sabbath morning, as Frank was walking quietly
to the Sunday-school, Hugh and his comrades sprang over
the fence into the lane, and encountered him. Their fright
had done them little good. Their shame and remorse had
subsided, and given place to a fecling of intense malice,
which they were determined to wreak on him who-had been
the means of defeating their wicked dosign, and exposing
them to mortification. With this view they had met since
their return from the squire’s, and concerted a plan by
which they hoped to gratify their spite ; and it was to carry
out this plan that they had now waylaid and intercepted
Frank where they knew they would at that hour be sure to
find him. Approaching with clenched fists, Hugh thus
accosted him—

* So you told the squire, did yout”

“Yes, I said I should, and I meant what I said.”

“Well, and I told you we'd lick you if you did, and now
we've come to do it.”

«You have no cause to be angry with me; I have done
you no wrong. I tried all I could to persuade you to give
up your sinful purpose, and when you wouldn’t be por-
suaded, I took the course I thought right to prevent your
acting it out, kept you from doing a wicked thing, though
I couldn't keep you from attempting it?

“But don’t you know you got us into a plaguy scrape, and
that everybody's laughing at us?”

“I did not get you into a scrape ; you got yourselves into
it, If you had listened to me, you wouldn’t have been
there at all, and nobody would have laughed. So don’t
charge me with the consequences of your own fault.”

“It’s no use talking. ‘You told the old chap, and he laid
. THE AssaULr. 65

a fine trap for us, you may be sure. He, and them ever-
lasting big boys o” his, and that monster of a dog he keeps,
got into the corn, and yelled at us like savage Injins, and
blazed at us with their guns, and might havo hit us too, if
it hadn’t been so dark. ‘Then they ketched us and dragged
us up to the house, and made us cat such a mess, ugh! it's
made me sick to think o’ melons ever since. And it’s all
along 0” your telling. So, off with your coat, and we'll soon
see which is the best man.”

Frank could hardly help smiling at this description of the
squire’s performances, but knowing it would only excite his
assailants the more, he commanded his countenance as.well
as he could, and answered—

“That you might be too much for me is very possible, as
you are three to one. But I shall not fight. I won't disturb
the quict of the Sabbath by engaging ina brawl, And it
is sinful to do it at any time; for the Saviour has said,
‘Resist not evil?”

It may surprise the reader that Frank should have been
capable of feoling such sentiments, and of expressing them
in such language, considering his former character, and the
short time since he had boen the subject of better influences.
It is true, he had not yet experienced that great spiritual
change which alone makes us the children of God, and
brings the affections and conduct into real and thorough
submission to the law of his grace. But, even before the
heart is renewed, the principles of the gospel sometimes
become so imbedded in the mind as greatly to modify its
modes of thinking. Thus was it with‘ our young friend,
Of a plastic and impressible nature when once his interest
was awakened, he had yielded himself eagerly to religious
instruction; and that instruction had rapidly improved his
knowledge, rectified his judgment, and enlightened. his
conscience, so that he clearly saw what was right, and was
resolved to adhoro to it. And of this process we think his
history by no means a solitary example.

‘His answor, made Hugh moro angry than before.

“What!” he exclaimed in afury, “You won’t fight! You

®




66” THE ASSAULT.

play 2 feller a mean trick, and then refuse to stand up to
him like a man! I always thought you a coward, and now
I know you’re one.”

“It isn’t because I’m afraid of you. Ifear God. He has
commanded us to honour his holy day ; and he has forbid-
den us to get angry, and beat and injure each other.”

“Well, we're going to thrash you, whether you'll fight or
note?

«You can strike me if you like, but I won’t strike back.
Ican’t help your doing wrong, but I'll try not to do wrong
myself.”

So saying he walked on. The others were so much sur-
prised at his conduct, that they allowed him to pass without
any attempt to molest him. But when he had gone afew
steps, and they saw that he was likely to escape them, their
rage became ungovernable. They ran after him, hooting,
and calling him all the opprobrious names they could think
of. They pelted him with dirt and mud. Several stones
were thrown, one of which struck him on the back of the
head, and Iaid open the flesh, so that his hair was matted
with blood. Poor Frank was sorely tempted. The smart
of his wound, and the sight of his clothes, his Sunday suit
too, all bespattered with filth, were very hard to bear. In-
dignation boiled within him. More than once he was on
the point of turning fiercely round, and paying his persecu-
tors in their own coin. But then the thought of how sorry
his teacher would be to know he had allowed himself. to be
drawn into a fight, and how grieved Mrs. Morton and Clara
would be to hear it, and, above all, what a great sin he
should commit against God, would cross his mind and choke
down his swelling passion.

‘His tormentors at length grew tired and left him to him-
self. He reached the school in a sad plight, his dress
stained and disordered, his face red and swollen with
weeping, and the blood oozing from the wound in his head,
and dripping down upon ‘his collar. Great surprise and
concern were expressed at his appearance. At the request
of his teacher, he related what had happened, with the oir-
THE ASSAULT. 67

cumstances which led to it, All manifested the liveliest
sympathy. Clara went up to him, and spoke to him sooth-
ingly, told him how much sho pitied him, how much she
was grieved for him, and yet how glad she was that he had
been able to command himself, and refrain from retaliating.
He was a noble fellow, she said, and she was proud of him.
‘The pain he now suffered woutd-Iast-but a little while, and
then he would have always the pleasure of remembering
that he had done right. Soft and healing fell her words on
the lacerated heart of the young martyr. They calmed his
irritated feelings, made him less sensitive to the outrage he
had received, and seemed to wipe away all its shame. He
became more collected ; and by the time that his classmates
had bandaged his hurt, and assisted him to remove, as far
as possible, the stains from his garments, he was prepared
to engage in the duties of the hour with almost his usual
composure.

Much was said that morning, both in the school and in
the church, that Frank thought appropriate to himself, and
fitted to strengthen and comfort him. But when the servico
was concluded, Mr. Seymour, thinking it possible that Hugh
and his companions might attack him agaip, and wishing
for an opportunity to converse more particularly with him,
offered to attend him home. After they had got into the
lane, where they could no longer be overheard by the
people returning from ¢hurch, he thus began—

“So, my dear boy, you had rather a severe trial this
morning, had you not?”

“Yes, sir, they used me pretty bad.”

“Do you not regret that you informed the squire of their
intention,.since it has exposed you to so much suffering 1”

“No, sir; Iam sorry they were so angry, but I am not
sorry for what I did, because I think I ought to have done
o2?



“Yes, you did right. When we know that any ono
designs to injure another, and we cannot induce him to
yelinquish the.attempt, it is clearly our duty to inform the
person against whom the wrong’ 1s intended, and to put him:
6s ‘TRE ASSAULT.

on his guard. Otherwise, we should become, by our silence,
partakers in the crime. But how did you feel while they
were treating you so cruelly ?”

“For a time I felt vory angry, and wanted to throw
stones at them as they did at me; and once or twice I
stooped down, and almost got hold of one.”

“That was wrong. There is no sin in being sensible of
abuse, or in feeling aggrieved when wo are subjectod to it;
but to desire to injure others becanso they injure us, is
contrary to the spirit of the gospel ; it is rendering evil for
evil, and is an intrusion upon the prerogative of God, who
has said, ‘Vengeance is mine; I will repay?”

“Yes, I know it was wrong, and I tried to check it, and
at last succeeded ; but it was hard work.” -

“It i often hard work for us to do what Christ com-
mands; not, however, because his commands are hard in
themselves, for his ‘yoke is easy and his burden is light ;”
but we are naturally so depraved, and so full of pride and
self-will, that anything which conflicts with these cherished
passions must necessarily cost us a severe struggle. The
difficulty lies in the corruption of our hearts, and it is a
difficulty which divine grace only can overcome.”

To this remark Frank did not immediately reply. He
had obtained sufficient knowledge of religious truth to form
correct views of what it taught in reference to, external
conduct, but he had not yet loarned “the plaguo of his own
heart?” He believed, indeed, that “ the heart was deceitful



above all things and desperately wicked,” because the Bible
said 50; but his opinion on this subject was a theory only,
and not that experimental, vital sense of it, which the Holy



Spirit produces when it convinces of sin. At length he
said—

“I Imow that wo ought not to resent affronts, because
the Scriptures forbid it. The Saviour has said, * Whosoever
shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other
also? But I do not quite understand it.”

“Perhaps not, and persons oldor and more experienced
than yourself have been equally in the dark. There are,
THE ASSAULT, 9

probably few commands of our Lord against which more
objection has been felt. ‘This arises in part from the por-
verted meaning which has Been given to thé precept itself.
Many have understood it as implying that we aro not only
to suffer injuries patiently, but even to court their repeti-
tion, But the command was not intended to be so minutely
and literally applied. It simply lays down the general
principle, that we aro to bear wrong treatment with a mild
and unrevengeful spirit. It does not teach that we may not
guard against receiving such treatment. Nor does it forbid
us to defend our lives and property, when assailed under
circumstances in which human laws are unable to protect
us. Most -persons, thus straining and distorting the roe-
quirement, look upon it as unreasonable, and as impossible
to be obeyed in the present state of society. But the chicf
cause of the opposition which it has called forth, is to be
found in the prevailing ideas and feelings of men. They
think it noble to be vindictive ; mean-spirited and cowardly
not to avenge an insult ; and the unsanctified heart, inflamed
with such passions, views with extreme repugnance a rule
of action which enjoins good for evil, blessing for cursing.”

“Why did Christ teach us to do, this?”

“Because such conduct is demanded by the very nature
of the gospel, which brings to us peace and good-will from
God, and requires us to imitate him in exercising the same
disposition towards our fellow-men. The course which it
prescribes is also the wisest and safest for ourselves. The
instances are very rare in which an individual would bo
attacked when it was known that he would not retaliate.
And in the few cases like your own, whero the unresisting
are assailed, the advantage is still on the side of forbear
ance. Do you not think that you would have been more
injured this morning, if you had undertaken to repel vio-
lence by violence ?” °

«
“And there is another view of the matter ‘yet more im-
portant. You would have placed yourself on the samo
moral level with your assailants, and have lost the power




70 LOST IX THE MOUNTAINS.

of exerting any good influence over them hereafter, should
Providence give you the opportunity. Now you stand on
very different ground, and have acquired a superiority over
them which they themsclves must acknowledge. It is thus,
by meekly enduring wrong that we conquer the wrong-
doer. ‘He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty ;
and ho that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city” Do
you feel that you should be willing to do these wicked lads
a kind service, should an occasion offer?”

“I did not this moming, but I do now.”

«Well, it may be that God has allowed you to-meet with.
this cruel persecution, in order to make you the means of
Good to its authors ; and if so, Iam sure you will acquiesce
in the ordering of ;His will who can cause even the wrath of
man to praise Him.”

By this time they had reached the door of Frank's dwell-
ing, and Mr. Seymour, bidding him an affectionate adieu,
returned to his own home.

CHAPTER XT.
LOST IN THE MOUNTAINS.

Wuen Hugh and his associates had left Frank in the lane,
after their cowardly assault upon him, they wandered about
the fields, discontented and restless. True, they had vented
their rage on the poor boy who had dared to expose their
mischievous purpose; but this did not afford them the
satisfaction they expected. Thoy felt more uncomfortable
than before. They could not stifle the unwelcome con-
sciousness that they had dono a very mean thing, and that
Frank, in refusing to fight, had shown more true courage
than they had in attacking him. The thought of the das-
tardly light in which they would appear when the transac:
tion should become known, annoyed them. ‘Their former


LOST IN THE MOUNTAINS. m

adventure had got wind, very little to their credit ; and this,
they were aware, would add indignation to ridicule. What
to do with themselves was now the question. They did
not like to loiter around the village, where they would be
exposed to the observation of people going to church or
returning from it; for a feeling of guilt and shame made
them wish to shun every eye.

As it was yet carly in the day, they finally decided to
execute a design, which they had long entertained, of pay-
ing a visit to a small lake, or pond, situated a few miles
distant among the mountains. The waters of this lake,
formed by numerous springs gushing out from the rocky
sides of tho hills around, aro very sweet and clear, and
furnish in their cool depths a favourite haunt for tho
speckled trout, which at certain periods are caught there
in large numbers. It being now the middle of September,
when the fish are most readily obtained, the boys deemed
the moment a propitious one. That it was the Sabbath,
gave them little concern ; and they had been used to having
their own way so long, that they did not mind going with-
out the consent of their parents. Hurrying back to their
homes, they collected the implements they needed, and+
wrapping up such provisions as they could conveniently
find, managed to make’ their way out of the little street,
without attracting the notice of any one, their parents and
most of the inhabitants having gone to church.

When they had left the village behind them, they pro-
coeded for a timo in silence, or exchanging only here and
there a word. Each seemed to have something on his mind
which he could not banish, but of which he was reluctant
to speak. After a while, with evident hesitation, and a shy
look round at the others, Ben said—

“I wish wo had not done what we did this morning. T
can’t leave off thinking about it.”

“‘NorI either,” replied Jim ; “it’s kind o’ haunted me ever
since. It seems to mo as if I could seo Frank now just as
he looked when we set upon him, and how he put his hand
to his head when the great stone hit him, and how he tried


72 LOST IN THE MOUNTAINS.

not to cry, though it must have hurt him very much. O,
I’m sorry we did it, and we shouldn't, neither, if Hugh
hhada’t urged us on.”

“Yes, that’s just the way with you,” said Hugh, “always
Jaying everything on my shoulders. You were as fierce as
Iwas then} but now, because you feel a little squeamish
after it’s done, you want to throw all the blame on me.”

“Folks will talk very hard about us, when they come to
know it, won’t they ?” asked Jim.

“I suppose they will; but I don’t eare if they do. We
shan’t hear them to-day at any rato; so say no more about
it,” answered Hugh gruffly, and ina tone and manner that
showed very clearly how distasteful the conversation was
to hit.

They were now drawing near the mountains, and the path
became steop and broken. They climbed one rugged ascent
after another, and crossed many a rude bridge, beneath
which wild streams from the hills leaped and tumbled in
flakes of glittering foam. The sky, which had been clear in
the morning, was beginning to be overeast ; huge banks of
clouds were rapidly gathering in tho horizon ; and the
rising wind moaned warningly among the tree-tops, and
roared in hoarso murmurs up the glens. But notwith-
standing these signs of an approaching storm, our young
adventurers pressed on. They reached at length the Inst
piece of cultivated land that lay in their way, before enter-
ing the rough and uncleared region surrounding the lake.
Calling at the farm-house, they asked for a glass of milk.
‘The owner had gone down to the village to attend church 5
but his wife was at home, having been detained by the ill-
ness of a child. She recognised them at once, and after
complying with their request, inquired, in a tone of con-
siderable surprise—

“Why, boys, what in the world are you doing up here
today? "_

© We're going to the lake to fish, Mrs. Barton,” answered
Hugh.

But don’t you know it’s the Sabbath?”




LOST IN THE MOUNTAINS. 73

«0, we don’t care for that.” .

«You ought to care. It's very sinful, and you had beter
go back at once. Besides, don’t you see there’s a storm
coming on? The wind’s been getting higher for some timo ;
and a great cloud has been hanging all the morning on the
top of the hill, and now it’s ereeping down his sides. When
he puts his cap on in that fashion, we always know what to
expect. We shall havo one of our autumn tempests cer-
tainly ; it’s about the time of the year for thom; and they
are often very long and violent up here.”

“Never mind ; we're not afraid of a little rain.”

“But it is dangerous for you to go to the lake in such
weather. There’s no road, you Imow; and the course you
must follow is so blind, and the woods are so deep and
tangled, and so full of winding ravines and precipices, that
if a storm should come on, you'll be sure to get lost, or
tumble into a gralf, or be crushed by a falling tree.”

“Get lost! ha! ha! ha! that’s a good one! Three boys
like us, with eyes in their heads, getting lost among the
mountains! Wouldn’t that be something to tell of

“ But of what use would your eyes be, if it was so thick
and foggy that you could not see ten rods before you?”

“Why, if we couldn't seo, we'd feel ; we'd find our way
out somehow, you may bo certain.”

Well, if you will go, do not stay too late; and if when
you get baci-here, you find you cannot reach home before
night, come in and Jodge with us. My husband will have
returned by that time; and though he will be very sorry to
hear how you have been spending the Sabbath, yet he'll
make you welcome to such fare as we can give you.”

«Thank you, we'll do so should it be necessary. At all
events, we'll call as we pass and let you know we haven’t got
lost.” ;

‘Turning away from the kind woman, and disregarding
her friendly admonitions, the rash youths went forward.
The slight road which had guided them thus far, terminated
here; and climbing a fence, and crossing a small strip of
stubble ground, they plunged at once into the trackless


74 Lost IN THY MOUNTAINS.

forest. Entering a narrow gorge between the hills, and
picking their way up among rocks, and gullies, and thickets
of underbrush, they toiled on towards the lake, and reached
it at last, nearly exhausted with their long tramp, and the
difficulties they had encountered. Toa mind prepared to
feelthe wonders of creation, and to traco in them the hand
of their glorious Author, the scene that burst on their view
must bave been strikingly grand and impressive. The lake
Jay encircled in A setting of mountains, that guarded it like
sentinels on every hand. From its eastern shore, the stern
monarch of the group, called Camel’s Rump, rose bold and
sheer, his bald head and jagged sides now covered with a
dense mist, rolling and billowy as an angry sea, On tho
north, west, and south, less elevated heights shot up, broken
into many separate cones by intersecting ravines. Within
this rugged belt slumbered the deep waters, looking dark
and unfathomable beneath the shadows of the low descend-
ing, clouds, and of the overhanging cliffs.

Hugh and his companions having rested a while, and
recruited their strength with a lunch, betook themselves
eagerly to their sport. Secking such spots on tho bank as
were clear of bushes, or walking out on protruding logs
where they could handle their rods more freely, they cast
their lines among the finny inhabitants. Each had soon
quite a string of the shining captives. Elated by their
success, they entirely forgot how fast the hours went by,
and heeded not the threatening: aspect of tho heavens.
@hus they continued till near sunset. In the meantime,
the omens of the storm had become more distinct and fear-
fal. The clouds that had at first skurried across the sky in
detached and flying squadrons, were now gathered into one
solid mass, overspreading the horizon. The vapours hung
Jow down the bases of the mountains; a dusky hue crept
over tho Jand; the tall pines rocked in the increasing gale;
and the first drops of the tempest fell pattering on the
faded leaves and the rippling waters. 2

Startled by the sound, the fishers looked up, and were
astonished to find how dark it had grown, and that the
Lost IN THE MOUNTAINS. 75

storm had actually commenced. Calling hastily to each
other, they collected their spoils, and started to return.
Dut in their hurry and confusion, they entered a different
ravine from that by which they came, and one that, instead
of leading to the settlements, wound far away into the
depths of the wilderness. Misled by the deepening gloom,
they perceived not their error, and pressed forward as fast
as the feeble light and the naturo of the ground would per-
mit. The rain now descended in torrents, and night set in,
rendered still more intense by a thick fog. On they groped
amid the darkness, drenched to the skin, scratching them-
selves with bushes and brambles, floundering through
swamps, wading brooks, and falling over roots and stones.
At last, completely wearied out, they stopped, and won-
dered why they yet saw no signs of the open land. After
taking breath a little, they again set forward, and continued
the struggle for hours, till their sinking frames could endure
it no longer. They wero then forced to admit that they
must have taken a false course. How they had done so,
they could not tell. Nor were they able to form any con-
jecture as to where they were, or in what direction to turn
‘to retrieve their mistake; and they feared to make the
attempt, knowing that in their uncertainty they would be
as likely to go wrong as right. ‘The rain still poured down
with unabated fury, and swollen streams began to rush
along the bottoms of the deep gorges. It became highly
dangerous to proceed, lest they should be swept away by
the rising floods, or’ be precipitated down some yawning
chasm.

In this extremity, they perceived a large rock so placed
as to afford them a partial shelter from the storm. They
crawled under it and lay down, exhausted by fatigue and
paralyzed with terror. Their situation would have been
much alleviated, could they have kindled a fire. They
might then have dried their wet clothes, and cooked, them-
selves a warm supper from the fish they had caught. But
as they had no means of doing this, they appeased their
hunger as well.as they could with tho remains of their






76 LOST IN THE MOUNTAINS.

noon-day meal, and then, huddling as closely together as
possible, stretched their shivering limbs on the damp, cold
earth.

Long and dismal was the night. The chill air and the
drenching rain made them too uncomfortable to sleep ; and
as they lay and listened to the wild sounds of the forest, a
sensation of mortal dread came over them. In every roar
of the tempest, they heard, as they imagined, the howl of
some beast of prey coming to destroy them. Tho creaking
and groaning of the trees as they swayed to and fro in the
blast; the rending and crashing, as one here and there fell
headlong to the earth ; and the noise of torrents chafing and
foaming through the rocky glens—kept their fancy busy
with dangers all the more terrible because unknown.

The morning broke at length, and they rose, hoping that
now they should be able to find their way. They ascended
a high hill, to see if they could discover the village, and
loarn how to shape their course. But the storm was yet
raging, and the heavy mists obscured the whole prospect.
‘They saw nothing but a wilderness of mountains, over which
rolled a sea of fog. Disappointed in their search, they
descended, resolved to push on till they should reach some
outlet, and thinking that progress in any direction was
better than standing still. But they were utterly bewil-
dered. How far they had wandered, or towards what point,
they knew not. As no sun was to be seen, and there were
no landmarks with which they were acquainted, they had
only their own confused faculties to guide them. Striking
into a dark, rugged glen, which, from the make of the
ground, they judged might conduct them to the open
country, they determined to follow it, little suspecting that,
like the one they had followed the night before, it led the
wrong way, and wonld bring them to no human dwelling,
until they had gone entirely round the principal mountain,
and reached the settlements on its easternslope. Ignorant
of this, they wandered on, weary and frightened, changing
their course when afraid to pursue it any longer, climbing
over rugged steeps from valley to valley, and often, from


THE-SEARCH, 07

the numerous turnings among the hills, going about almost
in a circle; while they thought themselves moving in a
straight line. As the day advanced, their hungor became
painful. The provisions which they had brought with them
were all consumed ; and as their fish, without any means of
cooking them, would have been only an encumbrance, they
had left them behind. They found a few roots and berries;
but these could give only a slight relief. Daylight once
more departed, and abandoned them to the terrors of an-
other night in the monntains! And herewe too must leave
them, while we relate what measures were in progress for
their rescue.

CHAPTER XIL
THE SEARCH.

Ow the Sabbath evening, the parents of these youths first
learned their absence. Though displeased, they felt no
serious concern, as they supposed they would be in before
bed-time. But as the night wore on, and they did not make
their appearance, they began to be very anxious. In the
morning, they sent round to all the neighbours to make
inquiries concerning them ; but no ono could give thom any
information. The storm being yet at its height, they en-
deavoured to comfort themselves by thinking that the
missing lads had been detained at some distant farm-house,
and were waiting for it to subside before they returned.
‘To cling to this hope was all they could do; for they were
utterly at a loss to know whither they had gone, or where
to look for them.

In-the afternoon, however, Mr. Barton came down from
his place among the hills. ‘ His wife had informed him of
the visit of the boys, and of their having started for the
Jake ; and as no one had seen them pass on their way back,
his apprehensions were awakened, and he had ridden all
78 TE SEARCH. |

the way through the rain to ascertain whether they had
returned. His statement filled the little hamlet with the
utmost alarm. It was evident that they had been overtaken
by the storm, and had lost their way in the dark labyrinth
of the mountains, where, unless help could reach them,
they must inevitably perish with hunger. The news spread.
rapidly, and soon a group of men collected to devise means
for their rescue. Some were for setting out at once; but as
it was now late, and a night search through the mountains
would be useless, it was decided by the larger and more
judicious portion to dofer the undertaking until the follow-
ing day. In order to ensure success, it was deemed requi-
site that there should be a sufficient number to scour the
remotest, corners to which it was possible that the wanderers
might have strayed ; and therefore it was determined to
raise the whole neighbourhood, and to invite as many as
could go, to meet early the next morning, ‘equipped for the
expedition, and prepared to remain out as long as might
be necessary.

‘That evening, several mounted messengers left the village
in different directions, and rode furiously away amidst the
pelting storm. Some spurred through the hills; others
galloped along the river road. They were clad in thick
shaggy over-coats, with oil-cloth caps on their heads; and
each carried in his hand a Jong, straight, tin horn, which ho
blew- waS something indescribably solemn in those shrill, piercing
Plasts, as they roso wailingly on the night air, and mingled
“with the hoarse uproar of the gale. The tenants of many a
\farm-house, sitting around their kitchen fire, and listening

the splash of the rain on the roof, or the whistling of the

ind as it shook the casements, were roused by the clatter-
ing of hoofs coming at full speed along the stony road;
then, distinct above the howling of the tempest, came the
summons—

* To—o—t, toot, toot, toot—to—o—t. Boys lost in the
mountains! Boys lost in the mountains! Meet at Green
Hollow—six o’clock—to-morrow morning.”
THE SEARCH, 79

And on flew the foaming steed and’ tho dripping horse-
man, to carry the same startling message to more distant
dwellings.

‘Wherever these riders came, they left excitement and
‘Dustle behind them. Preparations were at once commenced.
Horses were caught and fed, saddles and bridles examined,
guns inspected and cleaned, provisions cooked, clothing and
blankets brought forth, and everything got ready that could
bo needed by men about to go on a search so toilsome.

At the appointed hour, a strong party assembled in Green
‘Hollows composed chiefly of hardy, stalwart mountaineers,
to whom a tramp among the wild crags and glens was as
the breath of their nostrils. Among them were the fathers
of the three lads, Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Seymour, Squire
Goodwin, and his two sons. Nearly all carried rifles or
fowling-pieces. Pompey accompanied his master; and
several of the men had with them large deer-hounds trained
to follow the woods. Mrs. Morton, thinking old Peter's
limbs too stiff for such service, had chosen Frank as her
deputy; for though young, he was very athletic, and his
former roaming habits had made him an excellent woods-
man. Her pony stood at the door ready for him to mount;
and she herself was busily engaged packing into a knap-
sack such articles as she thought he might want. At this
moment Clara came bounding into the room, carrying in
her hand a large woollen cap of a bright red colour, which
Peter was accustomed to wear in the winter.

“Here, Frank!” she cried, holding it up, and laughing,
“here is something to keep your ears warm when you lie
down in your camp at night.”

“An excellent idea, Clara,” said Mrs. Morton, taking the
cap and putting it into the sack, “this will be very comfort
able; I wonder I did not think of it.”

“TI only thought of it just now, and ran to fetch it. But,
Frank,” she added, “you must not wear it in the day-time,
for if you go stalking through the bushes with such a red
top-piece, some of the men will take you for a wild turkey,
and give you a shot?
80 THE SEARCH.

“There are no wild turkeys in the Green Mounting
now,” answered Frank.

“An! but they would think you were some stray one.
And, Frank,” she continued, “if you see any Indians up
there in the woods, tell them to bring me some nice baskets
and moccasins, and Pll buy them.”

«I shan’t see any Indians; they’re all gone too, like the
turkeys. But maybe I'll sce a bear, and if I do I shall tell
him to come, and if he won't come himself, I'll bring you his
skin.”

“No, no. Ido not want him to come, and I don’t want
his skin. I don’t like bears, they are such ugly beasts; and,
Frank, if yousee one, do not go nigh him.””

Frank said he would be very careful, and only go nigh
enongh to give him Miss Clara’s compliments. Mrs. Morton
also entreated him to be cautious, and not to run into
aangor, adding that if any mishap should befall him, she
could never forgive herself for sending a mere Ind on such
a business, and that even now she would not venture to do
it, had not the squire promised to keep special watch over
him.

‘The cavalcade now mounted and sot out. After riding
about two hours, they reached the residence of Mr. Barton,
where, os the nature of the ground they were to oxplore
rendered it impossible to take their horses further, they
turned them loose into a pusture, depositing the saddles and
bridles in a barn. Shouldering their packs and rifles, they
proceeded to the lake by the same route which Hugh and
his companions had taken. Arrived there, they halted for
tho purpose of completing their arrangements, and deter-
mining the course and method of the search.

‘They divided their company into two bands. The first
consisted of the squire and his sons, the father of Hugh,
Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Seymour, Frank, and six others, making
thirteen in all. To this the squire was chosen leader. Tho
other, comprising an equal number, with tho fathors of Bon
and Jim, selected as its chief an old experienced woodsman.
whose name was Williams. As there were no means of
Te Seance. “BL

‘ing which way the lost ones had gone, it was
decided that Williams’ party should make a circuit round
the northern end of the lake, and Goodwin’s round the
southern, and then, taking an easterly direction, procecd
along the base of Camel's Rump, until they met on its
opposite slope. It was agreed, moreover, that as soon as
either party had found the wanderers, messengers should
be detached to inform the other. Certain rules were also
adopted for the guidance of each division. Every quarter
of an honr the leader was to give two quick blasts of a
horn, to point out his position, and- provent individuals
from straying. Three blasts in succession were to be the
signal for encamping; and threo guns, fired at intervals of
@ minute, were to denote that the boys had been found.
These preliminaries having been settled, the bands departed
on their respective routes. As our narrative connects itself
with the southern party, their fortunes alone will be re-
hearsed,

‘The storm had ceased when they set forth, though heavy
masses of clouds still shrouding the sky, prevented them
from marking their course by the sun. Yet, as they wore
supplied with a good compass, they had no difficulty in
ascertaining the direction they wished to follow. Moving
along the lake till they reached its southern shore, they
entered the forest, and, after penetrating it to a considerable
distance, turned to the east, with tho design of exploring
the wild tract of country that stretched’ before them in that
quarter. They arranged the order of their search in such a
manner as to extend it over as wide a space as possible,
The squire occupied the centre; while.the rest spread
themselves out on either hand as far as they could, without
getting beyond the reach of the appointed signals. ‘Thus
they went on, blowing their horns, calling to their dogs,
shouting to each other, and startling the wild tenants of tho
woods with sounds so strange and unusual.

‘Thoir progress was necessarily slow, for the ground was
ragged and difficult. Sometimes their way Jed them along
low, marshy swales, overgrown with thickets and matted

2


82 THE SEARCH.

brake, Sometimes they had to climb heights so steep, that
they wore forced to drag themselves up by grasping hold
of bushes and saplings, the loose stones and gravel sliding,
from under their feet at every step. ‘ Now, on the uplands,
their path would be obstructed by wind-rows, or strips of
the forest through which the hurricane had swept, and
piled up the prostrated timber into an almost impenetrable
barrier. And now a monntain torrent would lie in their
course, which they could pass only by felling a tree across
it, and crawling over the precarious bridge on their hands
and knees. Against all these obstacles they struggled
onward during the day, making only one short pauso for
needful refreshment.

‘Towards evening the sky cleared up, and the sun, shining
out amidst golden clouds, gave promise of fair weather. As
the afternoon was now far advanced, the squire thought
it time to call in his scattered band, that they might prepare
for the night. Having selected a suitable place for a camp,
he ascended a neighbouring hill,and sounded the summons.
‘The blast, thrice repeated, rang out sharp and clear in the
pure air of that elevated region, and, floating in mazy
vibrations over the leafy expanse, died away among the
distant windings of the mountains. Scarcely had a moment
elapsed when, from as many different points, a dozen
answering blasts came back, swelling and reverberating
from side to side, till rock and stream, and cliff and hollow,
seemed all alive with the leaping echoos. Shouting to the
men to join him in the valley below, the leader descended,
and began leisurely to survey the ground while waiting
their appearance.

‘They soon arrived, showing in their soiled garments and
jaded looks no doubtful marks of the labour they had
‘undergone. Many carried strings of pheasants that they
had shot; and John and William came londed with the
carcass of » fat buck which the rifle of the former had just
brought down. But Frank bore the most procious trophy.
In @ swampy ravine, abont half a mile back, ho had found
«@ fragment of the skirt of a coat, which, from its.colour and


. CAMPING OUT. 83

pattern, he at once recognised as belonging to the one worn.
by Hugh on the morning of the assanlt. He related also
that he had seen in the Soft bottom the foot-prints of the
three boys going eastward, and that they must have passed
since the rain, us the marks were quite fresh. This intelli-
gence greatly encouraged the party, and they went about
their arrangements for the night, cheered by the assurance
that they were on the track of the wanderers, and would
probably come up with them early the next day.

CHAPTER XIII.

CAMPING our. ’
‘Tue spot in which the squire proposed to encamp his party
was well chosen for the purpose. Tt was.situated in a sort
of glade, or open space, at the bottom of a deep valley
through which flowed a sparkling brook over a bed of
smooth white stones. The ground, considering the amount
of rain that had fallen, was tolerably dry, clear of under-
‘brush, and covered with a short greon moss. Several large
Dirches and other trees grew around, and a monstrous elm,
thrown down by the tempest, stretched its huge bulk along,
the edge of the stream. On this side, the glen was shut in
by a high ledge of rocks that rose almost perpendicularly
like a wall. ‘The opposite acclivity was more gradual, the
Lill swelling up in a rounded form, mantled with a thick
growth of stunted firs and pines.

Our wayfarers were charmed with this snug recess, and
began at once to provide the necessary accommodations.
‘The first thing to be done was to build a fire. Some of tho
men went in search of dead trees, whose limbs, seasoned in
the eun, they cut into fuel. Frank found two or three dry
pine knots, and splitting thom fine with o hatchet, Isid tho
pieces against the fallen elm above described; while tho


84 CAMPING OUT.

squire, with fiint and stecl, ignited a piece of touchwood,
and laying it on tho pitchy splinters, soon set them all in a
blaze. When these were sufficiently kindled, the stout
limbs wore piled on, stick after stick, armfal after armful,
until a huge firo was roaring and crackling along the trunk
of the old elm, lighting up with its flashes the dark face of
the rocks, and the shadows of the surrounding foliage.

‘The next step was to construct their camp. As a very
Jarge one was required to shelter so many, a piece of
ground, about twenty feet Iong and ten wide, was marked
out between the fire and the ledge of rocks, and carefully
freed from whatever rubbish encumborod it. Along the
outer sides of this space, they drovo a numbor‘of crotched
posts, making those in front higher than those in the rear,
20 that the roof might slope like a shed. In the forks of
these uprights they placod four strong poles, and then laid
crosswise upon these a great number of smaller poles, at
short distances from each other. Having proceeded thu:
far, they judged it best to divide their remaining labours.
John and William applicd themselves to skinning and
autting up the deer; and Frank was set-to pluck the
pheasants, and get them ready for the spit. Tho rest went
down the glen to a grove of young hemlocks, and returned
with as many of the clipped branches as they could carry.
These they spread thickly over the roof of the camp, the
small, fanlike twigs forming a covering almost as impervious
as thatch. They also set larger branches slantingly agai#tst
the back and ends, leaving tho front open to the fire. Then
they brought several loads more of the boughs, and strip-
ping them very fine, strewed the soft, feathery leaves all
through the inside, to a depth of six or eight inches; thus
converting the whole enclosure into a fragrant and delicious
couch. Ss

Having finished their lodging place, they commenced
cooking their suppers. Although their packs contained a
good supply of cold meats and. other kinds of eubstantial
food, yet the more dainty fare which the forest had sent
them rendered these stores rather unattractive; and select-


CAMPING OUT.

85
ing only a few loaves of, bread and some light articles,
they reserved the remainder for a time wien gamo might
not be so-plenty. Using as skewers long sticks with many
sharpened prongs, they broiled their venison steaks and
wild fowl over the hot coals. Some made tea or coffee, which
they drank from tin porringers; but most preferred to
quench their thirst with the pure cold water of the brook
that gurgled and flashed at their fect. Well might the
sated epicures of cities envy this primitive repast, to which
hard labour and the fresh mountain air gave a relish that
the most refined cookery and the richest condiments would
seok in vain to impart.

‘When their meal was ended, and the fire replenished with
fresh fuel, they sat down on the soft boughs in front of the
camp, to rest themselves after the exhausting toils of the
day. The deep solitude of the scene and.of the hour was
well_fitted to inspire serious thought. The night was
cloudless ; and the moon, now nearly full, had risen above
the eastern heights, and was shedding its beams over the
valley, marking the open spaces with streaks of silver, and
tinging with its pale, flickering light the brown sides of the
crags, and the gloom of the emboworing woods. Silence
reigned around, interrupted only by the low murmur of the
stream as it glided along its pebbly bed, the plaintive note
of the whip-poor-will, or the hooting of « solitary owl from
his perch in the top of a decayed tree. The circumstances
“which had brought the party into their present position
harmonized with the solemn mood awakened by the time:
and the place, and tended to increase it. After they had
eat musing for a while, Frank said to Mr. Soymour—

“L-wish those poor boys had such a warm fire and nice
supper to-night as we have. It makes me feel very sorry
to think how cold and hungry they must be.”

“I wish so too,’ answered Mr.Seymour. “Though they
have been very wicked, Icannot but pity them. I am afraid
they must havo suffered a great deal by this time. Their
case strikingly illustrates the statement of the Bible: ‘The
way of transgréssors is hard?”


86 CAMPING OUT.

“ Doing wrong,” said Mr. Lawrence, joining in the con-
versation, “is attended with much greater discomfort even
in this life than doing right. The path of duty ia sometimes
yugged and toilsome; but the path of sin is far more so.
And I think this is especially true of the sin of Sabbath-
breaking. I have frequently had occasion to notice that
excursions for amusement on the Lord’s day not unfre-
quently end in some disaster, as if God meant to frown
particularly on such desecration. The case of these lads
is only one of many similar instances that I have known.”

“Well, I think they deserve all they have suffered,” said
John Goodwin. “Thoy ought to be punished for abusing
Frank as they did, and then running away to the Iake to
fish on Sunday. It would have served them right, if, instead
of coming up here. after them, we had left them to find
their way back as they best could.’

“John,” replied his father, “what you say may be just,
but it is not. dictated by a Christian spirit. ‘That was not
the way in which our Saviour acted. When we had all
wandered from God by disobedience, he did not leave us
to the consequences of our folly, but ‘came to seek and to
save that which was lost.’ ”

“That is a very interesting thought,” said Mr. Lawrence,
“and one that has often occurred to me during the day.
The business in which we are now engaged seems well
calculated to remind us of our Lord’s mission into this
world, to bring a lost and alienated race back to God, and
restore it to the enjoyment of his favour. What astonishing
grace was manifested in this stupendons achievement of
Divine love! We had no claim to mercy. It was of free
choice that we forsook our Father's house, and wont forth
into the howling wilderness of sin; and most justly might
he have left us to wander on in darkness and guilt, until we
plunged into everlasting perdition, But, moved by com-
passion for our misory, ho gave his only begotten Son
to seek and to save ns; and that only begotten Son laid
aside the glory of his Godhead, and came down from heaven
on tho’ sublime errand of kindness. He ‘came to dwell in


CAMPING OUT. 87

He came to endure poverty, opposition, and
He came to fulfil the law which we had broken,
and by sutisfying its penalty with his own blood, to remove
every barrier which it interposed to our return to God.
Having thus opened the way for our recovery, he rose from
the dead, and ascended to the right hand of the Majesty on
high, there to plead the merits of his atoning sacrifice, and
to send forth his Word and Spirit to incline our hearts to
accept his salvation.”

“And how affectingly,” added Mr. Seymour, “does he
describe, in the parable of the lost sheep, the pity which
led him to undertake the work of human redemption, and
the satisfaction which he feels when a strayed and erring.
soul brought home to his fold. *What man of you,
having an hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not
leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness, and go after
that which is lost, until he find it? And when he hath found
it, he layeth it on his shoulders rejoicing. And when he
cometh home, he calleth together his friends and neigh-
bours, saying unto them, Rejoice with me, for I have found
my sheep which was lost. I say unto you, that likewise joy
shall be in heayen over one sinner that repenteth.’”

“Yes,” replied Mr. Lawrence, “the tenderness of Christ
towards such sinful and worthless creatures as we are is
most wonderful, and should melt us in lowly contrition
before him, And while we humbly rely on his merits for
the pardon of our own offences, let us follow his steps in
endeavouring to reclaim the rebellious and the outcast.
‘We are now secking to rescue those whom their own fro-
wardness has led into trouble. May we not hope that, in
answer to our prayers, the Holy Spirit will make tho distress
which they have thus brought on themselves, the means of
opening their eyes to the criminality of their conduct, and
leading thom to true repentance ?”

In this manner they continued to converse for a time, the
whole company listerring with fixed and pleased attention ;
some, because they felt a deep personal interest in the sub-
ject, and others because they respected religion, and ac-

our nature.
yeproach.


88 CAMPING OUT.

knowledged its nocessity, though they wore yet strangers
to its vital power. ;

At length, as all were extromély weary, they prepared to
seek the needful repose of sleep. Before doing this, how-
ever, they united in a hymn of praiso to God, who had
guided and protected them during a day of so much labour
and anxiety. For this purpose, they chose the following
beautiful lines of Addison



“Tho Lora my pasture shall prepare,
And foed me with a shepherd's caro;
His presence shall my wants supply,
‘And guard me with a watchful eye
My noonday walks he shall attend,
‘And all my raldnight hours defend.

‘When in the sultry globe I faint,
Or on the thirsty mountain pant,

‘To fertile valea and dewy mead

‘My weary, wandering steps he lends;
‘Whore peaceful rivers, coft and slow,
Amid the verdant landscape flow.



‘Though in a bare and ragged way,
‘Through devious, lonely wilds T stray,
‘Thy presence shall my pains begulle:

‘The barren wilderness shall smilo,

‘With mdden green and herbage crowned
And streams shall marmur all around."



All then knelt down, and Mr. Lawrence offered a short,
fervent prayer, thanking God for his unnumbered blessings,
besccching him to pardon their sins for Christ’s sake, and
still to grant them his upholding caree Nor were the poor,
misguided wanderers forgotten. Most earnest was the
petition presented on their behalf, that God would be
merciful to them, and not only shield them from danger,
and restore them in safety to their friends, but lead their
feet into the way of holiness and peace. 7

This done, they once more renewed their fire, supplying
it with such a quantity of fuel as would keep it burning
brightly through the night ; and then wrapping their blan-
kets around them, they Jay down on their leafy couch
heneath the watching moon and stars, fecling that the
rouxp. # 89

unslumbering eye of the All-secing couid guard them as
securely amid the wild solitudes of the mountains as in
their own beloved homes.



CHAPTER XIV.
FOUND.

As soon as the first gleams of morning began to show
themselves in the east, the wayfarers awoke. Their sleep
had been sound and undisturbed, and they rose refreshed
and invigorated for the exertions that yet lay before them.
Baking together the still glowing brands of their last
night's fire, and heaping on fresh wood, they prepared a
hearty breakfast from the meat of the deer, not forgetting
to reserve several large slices to take with them ready
cooked for the famished boys when they should be found.
‘The remainder, together with such heavy luggage as they
thonght they should not’ need, they concealed safely under
the boughs of their camp-bed, hoping to accomplish their
object so as to return in the course of tho day. Then, after
a brief prayer by Mr. Seymour, asking God’s blessing and
direction, they set forth’ to renew their search.

Led-by Frank, they first went back tothe spot where he
had scen the footprints on the preceding evening. They
soon discovered them, and found no difficulty in tracing
them up for a considerable distance along the wet bottom:
of the gulley. But after a while the trail diverged into
higher and drier ground, where they were no longer able
to follow it. They then spread themselves out as they had
done the day before, holding as nearly as they could the
direction of the foot-marks when last observed. In this
manner they continued to move forward, clambering over
hills, threading valleys, beating thickets, and searching
into every dark and hidden nook, till the sun had risen high
towards the meridian, ‘They were now far advanced along
‘90 FOUND.

the southern border of the mountain, and had reached a
point where the outlying spurs and intervening hollows
began to trend round in a line with its eastorn base.

Frank, to whom Pompey, as if guided by some peculiar
instinct, had attached himself all the morning, was at this
time picking his way up a deep, narrow ravine, overhung
by beetling precipices. At length he came to its head,
where a tall perpendicular cliff, shooting down right across
it, seemed to bar all further progress. While looking:
around for some break or opening in the rocks, the appear
ance and movements of Pompey arrested his attention.
The dog stood with hair erect, and eyes distended and
flashing, gazing intontly at a clump of high bushes that
grew near the foot of the crag. Uttering a lond growl, ho
bounded off towards the thicket, but, as if repelled by some
mysterious dread, instead of entering it, he began to ran
rapidly round in a circle, snuffing the ground and barking
futiously. Frank was a good donl startled. He feared
almost as much as Pompey to go into the bushes, lest they
might contain some wild animal, perhaps a bear or a pan-
ther, that would spring. suddenly upon him. But being
naturally a brave boy, he plucked up his courage, and
advanced slowly into the cover, cocking his gun and grasp-
ing it firmly in one hand, while he parted the thick branches
with the other: He had not proceeded far before he dis
covered the lost boys lying partly covered with leaves and
brush behind an old log. At first he thought they were
dead, so haggard and ghastly were their faces, and 0
motionless their posture. But at this moment, Hugh, dis-
turbed by the barking of the dog, raised his head and
looked around with a frightened and bewildered glanco,
till his eyo fell on Frank, when, crying in a faint voice, # 0
Frank! is that you!” he turned to his comrades, and shak-
ing them with all his remaining.strength, exclaimed, “Jim!
Ben! wake up—here’s Frank—we're found, wo’re saved !”
And the poor, starving Ind, overcome by the sudden hope
of deliverance, bowed his face in his hands, and wept like
an infant.


FOUND. on

Frank was beside himself with joy. He clapped his
hands, he hallooed, he leaped up and down like one frantic.
Enger to comnsunicate the glad intelligence to the rest of
the party, he caught up his gun and fired it off; thon eciz-
ing his horn, he began to blow with might and main, stop-
ping now and then, not to take breath, but to shout; aiid
thus he went on blowing and shouting, shouting and blow-
ing, til the dark ravine rang and echoed with the sounds.

‘The squire was on the further side of the ridge that bor-
dered the glen on the right, and his two sona just over the
brow of the opposite one. All three heard Frank's signal,
and as soon as they came near enough to learn their import,
they fired their guns as a token to their associates, and
hurried to the spot as fast as they could make their
way down the rugged face of the rocks. The others
soon followed with hasty steps, and in the highest excite-
ment.

The feelings manifested by Hugh's father were inde-
scribably touching. He was at the extreme end of the line
of search, when he heard the three successive reports which
had been agreed upon as the signal that the boys wero
found. Forgetful of all else, ho rushed with headlong
speed in the direction of the firing. A deep bog lay in his
way, but he plunged through it, unconscious that he often
sunk to his knees in the treacherous mire. He waded tor-
rents, leaped across chasms, flung himself down frightfal
steeps. His clothes were rent, his limbs bruised by many’a
fall, his hands cut by the sharp edges of rocks, his faco
lacerated and bleeding. Yet he knew it not—know nothing
but that his child was found. Arrived at the place where
his son lay, he clasped him in his arms, and sobbing ont,
“My boy! my boy!” fell fainting by his side.

‘The bystanders soon recovered him, and then procecded
to give more particular attention to the state of the rescued
lads. Their condition, as might bo. expected, was most
pitiable, Their garments were soiled and torn; and their
feet, bursting out through their rent shoes, were wounded
and swollen. For nearly throe days they had not tasted






92 FouND.

food, and they had become so weakened by exposure and
famine, as to be scarcely able to stand. On the preceding
afternoon they had xeached the spot where they had been
found; and perceiving their way shut up in the direction
they were going, and feeling themselves too much spent
either to climb the cliff or to retrace their steps down the
glen, they had crept into the thicket, as affording the best
shelter they could find for passing the night. In the morn-
ing, their limbs were so stiff and sore, and their strength so
exhausted, that it became impossible for them to renew
their wanderings. Several times they attempted to rise
and move forward; but their heads grew giddy; a deadly
sickness camo over them ; and abandoning all further effort,
they lay down in despair to dic. In this state, they soon
sunk into that overpowering sleep in which Frank had dis-
covered them.

Raising them up, their deliverors administered to each a
few spoonfuls of cold strong coffee, which they had brought
with them for the purpose. When this had revived them
a Little, they were supplied with moro solid nutriment, in
very small quantities, and at short intervals. In giving
thom food, it was necessary to use great caution at first,
since they were so debilitated by long fasting, that sudden
repletion might have beon fatal. As they were too feeble
to walk, litters were made for carrying them, by weaving
the branches of trees around light, slender poles, designed
to serve ag handles for the bearers. Strewing these with
coats and garments, and placing the lads in them, the whole
hand, with the exception of two of their number who were
sent forward to inform the other party, set out on their
return to the camp, where they arrived about the middle of
the afternoon.

Here they proposed to remain during the night, as it
was too late to think of proceeding to the settlements.
Laying the boys carefully on the bed of fragrant hemlock,
they bathed their inflamed fect with cold-water, chafed
their benumbed and weary limbs, and applied such other
pstoratives as their experience suggested and their means


FOUND, 93

could furnish. Then, building a great fire, they gave them
hot tea and coffee, anda nice supper of broiled venison, all
juicy and steaming from the coals. Soothed by the tender
nursing, and invigorated by the nourishing food, the tired
ramblers soon fell into a sweet and refreshing slumber.
‘That evening, as the company knelt once more in prayer,
they remembered the sleeping ones before thom; and with
the warm thanks that went up to God for their rescue, was
mingled-a fervent supplication, that their deliverance from
physical danger might be but the prelude and the type of
their deliverance from the far more tremendous perils of
irreligion and-sin.

In the morning, the objects of their care were found to be
80 far recovered by food and rest as'to be able to walk with
considerable ease; and, therefore, the party, as soon as
thoy had breakfasted, left their encampment, and proceeded
by moderate stages towards their homes. As they moved
leisurely along, the three lads appeared very grave and
serious. They spoke but little; and it was noticed that
whenever any allusion was made to the scenes through
which they had passed, a perceptible shudder would go
over them. They were evidently oppressed by a sense of
the great danger from which they had escaped; and that
they were very grateful to their deliverers, especially to
Frank, was seen in the manifest preference for his com-
pany, which they showed by keeping as near to him as they
could. As he had been the first to discover thom, they
seemed to regard him as the chief instrument of their
resoue ; and this, contrasted with their cruel abuse of him,
appeared to affect thom deeply, and to draw thom towards
him with strong attachment.

In this:manner‘it happened that, on one occasion during
the journey, they were separated from all the others, except
Frank and Mr. Seymour. Tho latter, who never neglected
a favourable opportunity of doing good, commenced a con
versation with them, in the hope of making their late ad-
venture the means of impressing religious truth on their
minds, z .




94, FOUND.

“Well, my* young friends,” he said, “you have had a
pretty severo time of it, have you not!”

“Yes, sir,” answered Hugh, “I never want such another.
The fright, and cold, and hunger were terrible. © thoso
Blaha silt. incintatas thisy will Rasat sas aw Long a8'T
ive.”

“They must have been dreadful indeed, and we all felt
for you very much, knowing what you must suffor. And
this makes me the more anxious that the hardships which
you have undergone shonld not be without some salntary
result. Will you be offended if I tell you ao few things
which they seem to me strongly to suggest?”

‘The boys assured him that, as he had been so kind to
thom, they would hear with pleasure whatever ho might
wish to say. Mr. Seymour then continued :—

“ Your recent experjence appears to me a striking emblem
of the state and conduct of unconverted sinners. Man has
lost himself by transgression. -He is an alien from his
Maker—outcast from heaven and happiness—bewildered in
the-mazes of orror—following the devices of his own cor-
yupt heart—and liable, every moment, to fall into the
abyss of destruction. This is naturally the condition of all
—of cach one of ourselves—until brought by Divine graco
from the ignorance and folly of our ways to the wisdom of
the just. But, as there wore those who went forth to sock
and recover you, so there is One who searches after the
wanderer from God. Jesus Christ has come to bring. back
the exiles, to reclaim the outcasts, to save the lost. He
Alls you by the monitions of. his providence, by the teach-
ings of his Word, by the drawings of his Spirit. If you
hear his voice, and go to him in repentance and faith, ho
will lead you away from the paths of the destroyer, and
guide you in safety and joy to his eternal home. But if
you refuse to listen to his invitations, yon will continue to
plunge deeper and deeper into sin, and finally sink into
everlasting ruin. Thus Jehovah by his prophet uttered
the warning of old: ‘Hear yo, and give ear; be not prond ;
for the Lord hath spoken. Give glory to the Lord your


vounp, , 96

God, before he cause darkness, and before your fect
stumble upon the dark mountains, and while ye look for
light, he turn it into the'shadow of death, and make it
gross darkness You remember woll, when, after long
striving to find your way, it hecame evident that you had
missed it, what horror the conviction brought, and with
what agony the words, ‘We’ro lost!’ burst from your lips.
But far more awful is it to be lost in the delusions of unbe-
lief and impenitence ; and unspeakably. more awful still
will it be to take up at last the lamentation, ‘Lost! lost for
ever 1?” -

To this solemn appeal neither of the boys made any
reply ; but the nervous working of their features, and the
tears that came into their eyes, proved that they did not
hear altogether without emotion.

In the course of the afternoon, the party arrived at the
place where they had left their horses. Here they all
mounted and rode down to the village, which they reached
about sunset. Great was the excitement produced by their
coming. As the news spread, the whole population flocked.
together to welcome back the wanderers. Not a whisper of
reproach was uttered ; not a reference made to the sin and
folly of which they had been guilty. All shook them
warmly by the hand, and with kind looks and words con-
gratulated them on their safe return. But who shall de-
soribe what their mothers felt? The long agony of suspense
was over; and as they clasped their sons in their arms,
tears and sobs alone told the deep transport of their hearts.
Attended by a group of sympathizing friends and neigh-
pours, each led her child to her own house, “The crowd
then dispersed, and night and silence settled down upon

hamlet.

e next day, as Frank was engaged in his customary
vocations, he was surprised by a visit from the three lads.
They saluted him very cordially, and he returned their
greeting with equal warmth. After conversing a few
minutes, Hugh, who seemed to have been deputed a3
spokesman for the rest, said—


96 rouxp.

“We have come to tell you, Frank, how sorry we are
for what we did to you last Sunday morning. We knew at
tho time that you wero right and we wrong, though we
were too angry to own it. But your kindness since has
made us heartily ashamed of our conduct, and we sincerely
ask your pardon.”

«I forgive you most cheerfully, and let us now be
friends,” replied Frank, grasping their hands, and fairly
wooping for joy.

80 we wish to be. And, Frank, we mean to leave
off our bad ways as you have done; and we have made up
our minds to go with you to the Sunday-school, and wo
should be glad, too, to have Mr. Seymour for our teacher.
We like him very much. We have thought a great deal of
the advice he gave us coming home; and what he said
about ‘stumbling upon dark mountains, and being ¢ lost—
lost—for ever!’ has rung in our ears ever since.”

Frank was delighted at this proposal, and still more at
the fecling which appeared to dictate it. He did all he
could to encourage and strengthen them in their resolution,
and told them how. rejoiced he should be to have their
company.

Accordingly, meeting him on the following Sabbath, not
far from the vory spot whore they had stoned him only a
week before, they wenf*with him to the school. Their
appearance created a great sensation. All were alike
pleased and astonished. The superintendent received them
in the most affectionate manner, and, at their request, con-
signed them to Mr. Seymour’s caro. And was not Frank a
happy boy then? Did he not feel, as he saw his former
persecutors sitting so quiet and friendly by his side, that
forbearance was the surest way to conquer, and that kind-
ness was mightier than wrath? And did not little Clara’s
eyes look brighter than ever at the sight? Our young
readers know they did, though none of them were there

to seee
‘THE BURIED SEED COMING UP. - oF

CHAPTER XV.
THE BURIED SEED COMING UP.

Axotner winter and spring had passed, and the early
summer had come again, with its greén woods and. fields,
and its bursting flowers. During the interval which had
thus elapsed, the subjects of our narrative had continued to
study the Scriptures, and to receive clear and faithful
instruction in the great truths which they unfold. ‘Tho
effects of this training wero visible in the correct deport-
ment of those who had before béon disorderly, and in the
advancing knowledge of all. Bat as yet the work was
outward only. There were no decided tokens of that in-
ward renewal which is the grand end of religious culture.

For some time, however, a growing interest in the con-
cerns of the soul had become manifest. An unusual anxiety
for the conversion of their pupils animated the teachers.
With stronger faith, and more frequent and importunate
prayer, they sowed the heavenly seed. With increasing
urgency, they admonished, exhorted, pled. Soon indica-
tions of good began, to appear; and often, as they pressed
home upon the objects of their solicitude the warnings and
invitations of the gospel, the heaving sigh and the starting
tear would tell that the germs of spiritual life were stirring
and quickening in their bosoms.

Nor were these signs of promiso confined to the Sunday-
school. They gradually spread through the entire com-
munity. The members of the church were roused into
uunwonted activity. Meetings for prayer and mutual exhor-
tation were more fully attended, and breathed a deoper and
livelier zeal, The lukewarm were rovived, the sluggish
kindled into fresh energy, backsliders searched out and
reclaimed. The pastor, in his addresses from the pulpit, and
im-his visits from house to houso, laboured unremittingly. to

e
98 THE BURIED SEED COMING UP.

awaken the people to a senso of oternal things, and warned
the wicked ‘to flee from the wrath to come, with peculiar
earnestness and power. A striking solemnity, a still and
brooding thoughtfulness—the usual precursor of spiritual
showers—hung over the whole place ; a thoughtfulness, that
not only showed itself in the Sabbath assembly, but sat on
the countenances of men in their week-day walks, and
seemed almost to pervade the very air they breathed. At
Jength the cloud of mercy unlocked its treasures; and the
Jong hidden seed, fructified by the rain of the Spirit, swelled,
and sprouted, and shot up into the tender blade.

Clara was the first in whom the bud of grace expanded
into full blossom, Nurtured from hor earliest childhood in
the principles of Christian truth, she had long evinced a
tenderness of conscience, and a. sensibility to religious sub-
jects, which showed that a Divine influence was silently
‘operating on hor mind. Lately these feelings had grown
more permanent and engrossing. Eternal realities occupied
her thoughts more exclusively, and rested there with greater
force. Her views of thé holiness of God, of the justice of
his claims, of the evil of sinning against him, and of the
absolute impossibility of being saved in any other way than
by faith in the atonement of Christ, became more distinct
and powerful. Drawn by the gentle yot resistless hand of
the Celestial Sanctificr, she placed her whole trust in the
blood of propitiation, and found peace and joy in believing.
‘Well taught and seriously disposed as she had always been,
still the change wrought in her was very striking. What
had before been the result of education, of example, of
habit, now flowed from a purer and more abiding source—
from the gracions affections of a regenerated heart. She
manifested the most ardent desire to honour her Saviour,
and to lead her companions and schoolmates to seek an
interest in him ; and young as she was, her loving effurts
proved a blessing to many.

On Frank, especially, her influence was marked and
decisive. As the preceding pages have shown, he had
improved greatly under religious teaching, and had become


THE BURIED SEED COMING UP. 99

8 vory intelligent apd promising youth, exemplary in his
behaviour, mild and amiable in his disposition, and univer-
sally respected. But there he stopped. Although he had
acquired a speculative knowledge of the gospel, and often
felt tho necessity of that internal change which it demends,
his heart wasstill unrenewed. Recently, his concern on this
subject had even begun to subside. The commendations
which his excellent conduct had called forth, had tended to
nourish in him a feeling of self-righteousness; and the idea
insensibly stole into his mind, that he had dong all he could
to secure the favour of God, and was about good enough.
‘This was not owing to any neglect on the part of his teacher
and other Christian friends; for they had beon very explicit
in pointing out to him the danger of resting in mere outward
reformation, without that inward work of the Spirit, which
alone can fit the soul for heaven. Nor did he knowingly yield
himself to a delusion so perilous. Yet it was there—latent
and unconfessed indeed, but still there—blinding his eyes
and stifling his convictions. From this fatal snare it was
the pleasure of God to make Clara the instrument of his
acliverance.

Meeting him soon after the happy transition which had
taken place in her own feclings, sho told him how precious
the Saviour now appeared to her, of the sweet peace which
she enjoyed, and of her delightful hope that she had passed
from death unto life.

“Why, Clara,” he answered in surprise, “I thought you
had been religious a long time. You have always behaved
so properly, and have shown so much interest in tho Bible,
and in the Sunday-school, and in doing good to others, that
I never supposed you needed anything more.”

“0 yes, I needed a great deal more. It is true, that my
dear mother’s care and example have kept me from open.
sin, and taught me to esteem religion, and to take a certain
pleasure in it.. But I had a very wicked heart after all—
a heart that was at enmity with God—though I never saw
it so clearly as I have lately. But I trust that God has now,
for Christ’s sake, taken away my old heart that was always
100 THE RURIED SEED COMING UP.

rebelling against him, and given mo anew one. And, Frank,
he is ready to do tho same for you, if you ask him in tho
name of his Son. , go to him for a new heart !”

“Well, I havo loft off my bad habits, and am trying to do
right as far as I know how. I can’t see what more I can
do.”

“What more you can do! Why, Frank, more must be
done, or all that has beon done will avail yon nothing.
External amendment camnot satisfy that Holy One who
searches the heart, and regards all elso as of little worth, if
that be wrong. To lop off the branches of a poisonous treo
is not killing it. It must be plucked up by the very roots,
or it will be sure to grow again as rank and destructive as
ever. If you wore going to build a house, you would not
think it completed becauso you had dug up the stones, and
carried away the rubbish, and lovelled the ground a little,
would you?”

“No, I do not suppose I should be quite so silly.”

“Certainly you would not. Thero must be something
made, as well as something removed. So in religion, old
things must not only pass away, but new ones must come
in their place. ‘Thus the Bible says, «Except a man be born.
again, he cannot sce the kingdom of God.’ ‘Except yo be
converted, and becomo as little children, ye shall not enter
into the kingdom of heaven.’ ‘Not by works of righteous-
ness which we have done, but according to his mercy he
saved us, by the washing of regeneration and renewing of
the Holy Ghost’ 0, Frank, that is what you want—the
renewing of the Holy Ghost—and that is what you must
have, or perish for ever. Our hearts are all by naturo with-
‘out love to God; and a heart that does not love God can
never go to heaven.”

Frank had often heard this solemn truth from the lips of
his teacher, and in the announcements of the pulpit; and
he had read it many times in the Bible. But he had nevor
had a full, spiritual perception of it. Now, however, that
Divine Agent, whose office it is to convince of sin, opened
his mind to receive and to understand it. As he listened to




THE BURIED SEED COMING UP. 101

Clora’a words, the thought rushed upon him with irresistible
power, that if she, whom he had rovered as so good and
lovely, and had looked up to as # model of all that Was pure
and stainless, needed a vital transformation of character,
much more must he need it himself. A new light flashed
in upon his soul. ‘The depravity of his heart, its alienation
from God, its carnal affections, its corrupt motives, its pride,
its deceitfulness, were Inid bare to his view. He saw that,
after all his outside cleansing, hia “inward part was very
wickedness.” Ho saw, as he had never-seon before, the
strictness, extent, and spirituality of the Divine law—how
it reached to the inmost thoughts, and how its requirements
could be met only by the most perfect conformity both of
the outer and the inner man to its spotless standard. He
felt that he had come short in everything, and could render
no satisfaetion. Ho felt that he had sinned all his life
against a holy God, who might justly cast him off for evor.
Asenso of guilt, of condemnation, of exposure to merited
punishment, overwhelmed him. Hoe could discover no way
of escape—no method by which he could atone for what ho
had done, and avert impending perdition. His good decds
—his vaunted reform—how worthless they appeared now !
how utterly insufficient to appease offended holiness! ‘These
views of his condition filled him with unutterable distress.
Day by day he went bowed down with a load of anguish
which he could not throw off, and from which he could find
no relief, Food lost ita relish; sleep departed from him.
Everywhere, and at all times, tho thrilling words, “ Yr must
2BE BORN AGAIN,” glared before his eyes, and echoed in his
ears. In the Sunday-school, in tho church, they were the
hand-writing on the wall. By the wayside, in the fields,
the very winds whispered thom ; and oven the lone, silent
night scomea vocal with the low-uttered warning.

His teacher noticed his depression, and ascribed it to the
right cause. Wishing for a more free conversation with
him than would be possible in the class, he went one day to
visit him. Ho found him in the gardon, with the imple-
ments of labour around him ; but instead of plying his work








102 THE BURTED SEED COMING UP.

briskly as was his wont, he was standing in a-melancholy
attitude, apparently absorbed in thought, and reading from
a Bible which he held in his hand. Mr. Seymour, approach-
ing, thus addressed him—

“Frank, my dear boy, you seem very much troubled
lately : what is the matter t”

Frank looked at him earnestly for a moment, then cover-
ing his faco with his hands, and bursting into tears, ex-
claimed—

“0, I'm such a great sinner, there’s no hope for me !”

“I thought you were feeling in this way, and came to sce
if I could give you any aid. But we may be interrupted
here; let us take a walk.”

‘They went away together. At some distance across tho
meadows, there was a thick grove, which, as the trees were
now in full leaf, afforded a very cool and sequestered re-
treat. Entoring this wood a little way, they sat down
under the shade of a wide branching oak. Mr. Seymour
then resumed the conversation.

“You say you are a great sinner; what has led you to
fool this particularly 1”

“0, I have had such a dreadful view of myself! I
thought Thad been doing very well, and was in a fair way
to be saved ; but I now see that I have been greatly de-
ceived. While I have laid aside the outward practice of
evil, my heart has remained corrupt and vile as ever. I soo
that the law of God demands perfect obedienco in thought,
word, and deed, on pain of everlasting death ; and that he
who offends in ono point is guilty of all. I feel that I have
offended in every point, and can make no reparation. I
see, too, that could I now begin to obey the law perfectly,
and continue to do so during the remainder of my life, it
could not set mo free from the penalty of what is past. But
I am unable to do even this. Much as I tremble at-my
sins, they still hold mo with an iron chain, and I have no
power to break from them. 0, I am lost! I am lost! there
can be no salvation for such a sinner as I am.”

“That you are a great sinner is true. We aro all such;
THE BURIED SEED COMING UP. 103

for whatever our external conduct may have been, wo
have withheld our affections from God, and this alone
involves immeasurable guilt. Equally true is it, that wo
can render no obedience to the law that-will answer its
high and holy claims. The law condemns us, every on:
and were justice to take its course against us, we must all
perish eternally. But God has provided a ransom. Hoe has
given his own Son to do for us what wo could not dé for
ourselves. Christ, by his holiness, obeyed the law, and by
his death paid its penalty. This obedience and this atone-
ment are appropriated to us and reckoned as ours, when we
become united to him by faith as our head and surety.
Thns God can now be just, and yet justify the sinner that
believeth in Jesus.”

“But can the merits of Christ-save one whose sins are so
aggravated as mine ?"

“Yes, his graco is both sufficient and free for the vilest
and the worst. Hear what the apostle says: ‘It is a faith-
ful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus
came,into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief?
‘The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all
sin? ‘Come now, and let us reason together, saith the
Lora: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white
as snow ; though they be red like crimson, they shall bo as
wool? ‘Whosoever will, let him come;’ ‘and him that
cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.’ ‘Believe on tho
Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved’ ”

“Ah! but I cannot believe. My heart is as hard and
dead as a stone. It won't repent; it won't lay hold of
Christ; it won’t melt at the sight of his cross. O, what
shall I do”

“There is one thing which you can do—ai
heart at once to God. Tell him how stubborn it is, and
entreat him to break and subdue it by his grace. Listen to
his promise: ‘A now heart will I give you, and a new
spirit will I put within you; and I will tako away the stony
heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of
fiesh.” The Spirit of God is able to soften and change the







104 THE BURIED SEED COMING UP.

most obdurate heart. Go, then, to Christ just as you are.
Your heart will only grow moro sinful and rebellious by
delay. Lay it at his feet in humble prayer, and say—
‘Dear Saviour, steep this rock of mine
Ta thine own crimson sea;
None but a bath of blood divine
‘Gan melt the filnt away."

“But how can I pray with such a heart? It is full of
unbelief and murmurings against God. I am often tempted
to think that the Lord deals hardly with me, and asks
more than is just. I know such thoughts aro wrong, and I
try to banish them ; but they keep constantly rising up as if
from some dreadful fountain within. O you cannot imagine
what wicked feelings I sometimes have.”

Mr. Seymour looked as if he thought no one could tell
‘him anything new on this subject; but he merely said—

“You can at least make the attempt to pray, and take
hold of Christ by faith. If you were drowning, and a rope
were thrown to you, you would not stop to ask whether you
had strength to seize it, but putting forth whatever energy
you had left, would cling to it with the grasp of death.
When the man whose hand was withered was told by our
Saviour to stretch it out, he did not hesitate, from a feeling
that he was unable to do so, but at once made the effort,
and in making it was healed. So it is in trying to go to
Christ that he gives us power to come. Shall we try now?”

Both fell on their knees, and Mr. Seymour poured forth
his yearning desires for the conversion of his beloved pupil.
‘When he had closed, Frank commenced ‘praying, at first in
Jow, trembling accents, broken by moans and sobs. “God
be merciful to me @ sinner,” was the burden of his cry. Ho
Jaid open all the malady of his heart, its corruption, its
impenitence, its obduracy ; confessed his helplessness, and
the justice of his condemnation, and humbly implored
pardon through the merits of Christ. Thon suddenly his
tone changed. A strain of ardent thanksgiving burst from
his lips, as hidden waters gush up whién their spring-head is
pierced. His whole soul flowed out in praise to God for the


THE BURIED SKED COMING UP. 105

riches of his wisdom and mercy in the plan of redemption,
and in expressions of love and devotedness to the Saviour.
Again his words became those of prayer, but not for him-
self. Losing sight of his own case, all his thoughts seemed
to be absorbed in concern for the salvation of others. He
prayed for his mother, for his schoolmates, for Hugh and
hhis associates, for the village, for the whole world. Then
‘becoming silent, he remained for atime in tho same posture,
as if lost in surprise and wonder.

‘When ho rose from his knees, his eyes shone as with an
unearthly lustre, and his countenance was serene, bright,
almost seraphic, as though a smile had beamed upon him
from the face of God, and lit up an answering smile in his
own. Faith and Hope, twin angels, had descended upon
him, and were hovering over him with their radiant wings.
For a, few minutes he stood gazing around in a kind of
reverie, entranced by the new and rapturous emotions that
came rushing into his soul. At length Mr. Seymour in-
quired—

“Well, Frank, how is it with you now?”

“I can hardly tell. Strange feclings have come over mo.
My burden is all gono, and I am so light that it seoms as if
T could almostfly. And my hard heart, O, that is gone too!
I can believe now—I can repent now—I do believe—I do
repent; and O how happy it makes me !””

Here tears, sweet, and blessed, broke from his eyes, and
yan in streama down his cheeks. Becoming alittle more
composed, he continued—

“© how precious Jesus is! How near he seems to mo!
How tenderly he looks at me! O how my heart melts to
think what he has done and suffered! Why did I not sco
this before? Why did I not come to him beforet Why
don’t everybody come to him? 0, if they but knew how
lovely he is, they could not refuse.”

‘That evening Frank accompanied Mr. Seymour to meet
a few frionds, who assombled together for prayer. En-
couraged by Mr. Seymour, he at length found courage to
tell them of the great change he had experienced. Ho
106 ‘THE BURIED SEED COMING UP.

began by giving a concise and modest account of what he
trusted the Lord had done for his soul. But soon, kindling
with his theme, he broke away from all that was personal
to himself, and gave utterance to his feelings in an earnest
appeal to the unconverted. He was endowed with great
natural gifts, though he knew it not. Divine grace had
now touched their Intent spring, and brought them into
fall activity. Thoughts, clear, connected, pungent, and all
glowing with a heavenly unction, gushed from his lips, in
words simple, yet burning and rapid as electric fire. The
effect was overpowering. Old Christians wondered and
‘wept. When he ceased, every face was bathed in tears,

The work of the Holy Spirit now went forward with
increased energy. Fravk, though never stepping out of his
station, or presuming to take the place of the more ex-
perienced, was very active and useful. It was his special
delight to converse with his young friends, to pray with
them, and fo encourage them to pray for themselves. His
favourite spot for doing this, was the little grove and the
spreading oak, where he himself first tasted the love of
Jesus; and there, beneath the came leafy canopy, several
others learned the language of prayer, and found peace to
their souls,

It was not long before a goodly number gave evidence of
renewing grace. The larger portion were young persons
connected with the Sunday-school, or who had formerly
been members of it. Among them were Hugh, Ben, Jim,
and the two sons of Squire Goodwin, Some, however, more
advanced in life, shared in the blessing, one of whom was
‘Frank's mother.

Great was the joy of those faithful Sunday-school teachers.
Long and anxiously had they scattered the seed of life, and
watched for its budding; often faint, often desponding, but
never blenching from their task. Now the timo of their
reward had come. The green shoots grow thick around
them, giving promise of future sheaves for the heavenly
garner. Their painful sowing was ushering in a joyful
reaping.
He PLANTS scr. 107

CHAPTER XVI. s
THE PLANTS SET.

Brraurt shone the Sabbath sun a few weeks subsequent to
the date of our Inst chapter. At an early hour the roads
leading to the village were thronged with people, some in
carriages, some on horseback, and some on foot, all moving
towards the little church. It was the season of sacramental
communion, and on that day the recent converts were to be
admitted for the first timo to the tablo of their Lord. The
earnest feclings in which the change had originated, were
deeply felt through that great rural district. The church
was densely filled, and many stood under the green trees
without, listening, through the open windows, to the voice
of prayer and the words of eternal truth.

"The converts, young and old, were publicly recognised as
members of the church, and admitted to the Lord’s Supper.
Tho heart of the aged pastor overflowed with gratitude.
Long had he laboured in his Master's vineyard, and many
were the fruits which had rewarded his toil; but never had
it been his privilege to gather a richer harvest than this,
‘perhaps his last. Before extending to the candidates the
customary token of fellowship, he gave them a few words
of advice, which his years and varied experience invested
with a character almost paternal.

“My dear children in the Lord,” he said, “the scene
which I now witness is among the happiest of a long and
checkered life. It is one of those green spots in my pil-
grimage which I have met but too seldom, but which, when
they have occurred, have more than repaid me for all past
weariness, and anxiety, and ‘hope deferred’ I bless God,
that before my day of labour is*quite done, he has per-
mitted me to load into the bosom of his Church so many
precious souls, in which I trust ‘ Christ has'been formed the
hope of glory.”
108 ‘THe PLANTS ser.

«Tam an old man, and have nearly reached the end of
that race which you are now commencing. You will bear
with me, therefore, if I suggest to you some counsels which
appear to me important to your future progress. Much of
what I shall say will be drawn from my own mistakes,
much from the mistakes which I have observed in others ;
but it is well for the traveller who is finishing hia course to
point out, for the guidance of those that come after him,
the treacherons places whero ho himself may have slipped,
or been bewildered, or tumed aside.

“Beware of supposing that your difficulties are now all
surmounted. Think not that your sins are dead. Held in
check they doubtless are, and broken their power must be,
if Divine grace has set up its throne in your hearts. But
the Canaanites are still in the land. You will find that you
have yet much corruption remaining, and that your evil
passions, though weakened, are not subdued. They will
start up again into full vigour, should your negligence, or a
feeling of security, afford them the slightest opportunity.
‘The circumstances in which you live will furnish them with
innumerable occasions to make their assaults upon you.
Be ever on your guard, therefore, dfainst temptation.
Nothing but the most unceasing vigilance can keep you
from being taken by surprise and overcome. Watch your
hearts, watch your words, watch your actions. At home
and abroad, in private and in public, in labour, in rest,
in secular engagements and in spiritual—watch—watch—
watch.

“Be much in prayer. The same Divine breath which
first kindled the flame of piety in your bosoms, must con-
stantly fan it, or it will soon languish and die. You will
need, every day and every hour, fresh applications of the
Baviour's blood to cleanse you from fresh sin. You will
need, every day and every hour, new impartings of tho
Spirit’s influence, to direct, to purify, and to quicken you.
You cannot lay up a stock of grace in the beginning of |
your journey that shall last you through. The supplies of
each stage, of each moment, must be obtained by fresh


THE PLANTS stir. 109

drafts on the treasury of heaven. These can come down to
you only in answer to prayer. Walk, then, closely with
God. Abide under tho shadow of the mercy-seat. Keep
the eye of faith ever fixed on Christ. When happy, pray;
when afflicted, pray; when doubting,.pray ; when hopeful,
pray; when straggling in the conflict, pray ; when roposing
after victory, pray; when entering on duty, pray; when
reviewing its performance, pray. Pray in the closot—pray
in the family—pray in the meeting for social devotion ; at
all times, in all places, pray—pray—pray.

Bo earnest students of the Bible. You navigate a sca
where every rock and headland are strewed with ship-
wrecks, and where, amidst falso lights and shifting cur-
rents, your hand must never leave the lead, nor your eye
the compass, or you will be in danger of stranding on tho
shoals of error, or losing yourselves in the mists of human
opinion, and drifting wide from the true course. God is
the only pilot, his Word the only chart, that can conduct
you safely in such a voyage. Make that Word your guide.
Let it be the companion of your days and of your nights.
Endeavour to understand its doctrines in their relations to
each other, and in their bearings on the Divine government,
and on the obligations and destinies of men. Carefully
trace in its sacred pages the unfoldings of the plan of salva-
tion, and the exhibitions which it gives you of the lifo and
teachings of your Lord, that you may ascertain his will
and learn to follow his steps. ‘Aim to be intelligent Chris
tians—to have a religion of principle—a religion whose
root shall be, not in the thin scurf of outward impulse and
excitement, but in the deep soil of Scriptural knowledge,
deposited and Inid up in the heart. ‘Let the Word of God
dwell in you richly in all wisdom and spiritual understand-
ing? Moditate on it continually. In the morning, read;
at noon, read; at evening, read. Read in retirement ; read
im company. For comfort, read; for reproof, read; for
correction, read; for instruction in righteousness, read—
read—read.

* Bo active in doing good. The Master has not called you
110 THE PLANTS SET.



into His vineyard that you may sit there all the da}
enjoying its shade and regaling yourselves with its fi
Labour, earnest and protracted, is your vocation. Christ
came not to be ministered unto, but to minister; and you,
if you would be his disciples, must imitate his example.
Thus only can you glorify him; thus only can you fulfil
his high purpose in redeeming you with his blood ; thus
only can you show your love and gratitude. And in this
way only can you hope to taste the delight of communion
with God, and to be fed with the consolations of the Spirit.
The lazy soul is alwaysa starving soul. There is no lack
of occasions for the employment of all your sanctified
powers. Sinners are perishing on every side of you—a
world is sinking into hell. The command of God, tie love
of Christ, the guilt and woes of your fellow-men, summon,
you to effurt. Work, then; work hard; work without
ceasing. Work in the church; work out of the church ;
work to instruct the ignorant, to gather the outcasts, to
recover the lost. Work by praying; work by giving.
Work with fect, and hands, and tongue, and mind, and
heart. From youth to manhood, from manhood to old
age, from old age to the grave, work—work—work.

“ Persevere unto the end. ‘They alone who endure shall
be saved. Maintain the warfare to its close. Resolve, in
the strength of Christ, to conquer every foe. Resist the
stealthy encroachments of a worldly spirit. Shun, as you
would the breath of the pestilence, all vain amusements
and carnal alliances. Let the people of God be your associ-
ates, his church your home, its ordinances your delight.
Keep the ranks. Move on, shoulder to shoulder, compact
and firm. Stop not your march when one field is gained,
nor lay down your arms when one enemy is vanquished,
but press forward from victory to victory. Listen to the
promise of your triumphant leader. * Be thou faithful unto
death, and I will give theo a crown of life” @!"* cried the
old man, stretching his arms toward heaven, while his voice
rung like the blast of a trumpet, “0, a crown of life! a
crown of life! who will falter in view of such a prize?










THE EARLY RIPE EARLY GATHERED. an

My crown is waititig for me ; yours is yet to be striven for.

Seo that ye lose it not. Beginners in the heavenly course!
Young soldiers of the King of kings! till the last step of
the race be taken—till the last battle be won—run—run;
Sight—Jight—fight.”

Then, commending them in a chort prayer to the Captain
of salvation, he passed around the circle, and blessing each
in the name of the Lord, welcomed them to the struggles
and hopes, the immunities and joys, of the commonwealth
of the saints.

‘The ordinance of the Lord’s Supper was now adminis-
tered. Mingled, yet full of heavenly peace, were the emo-
tions of the new communicants in commemorating for the
first timo their Saviour’s death. Grief that their own sins
had helped to swell the dreadful burden which he then
bore—a melting sense of unworthiness—wonder to find
themselves so privileged—thankfalness, love, adoration, in
viow of the astonishing mercy conferred on them—all rose
up in their hearts, and flowed out in gushing tears, as they
took in their hands the memorials of his bloody sacrifice.
With augmented zeal and strengthened purpose, they re-
solved to devoté themselves wholly to him, and make his
service the supreme end of their lives.

‘Thus were they planted in the houso of the Lord, that,
trained by its care and nurtured under its kindly influ-
euces, they might flourish in the courts of our God,and
bring forth fruit to the praise and glory of his grace.

CHAPTER XVII.
THE EARLY RIPE EARLY GATHERED,
Tur religious interest which has been noticed continued

for many weeks, and even months, before it began. percep-
tibly to abate. ‘Tho church was greatly strengthaned by it
112 TWe EARLY RIPE EARLY GATHERED.

both in piety and in numbers. It spread into several of the
neighbouring towns, and was attended there by similar dis-
plays of converting grace, and similar accessions to the
feeble branches of Zion. All evangelical denominations
alike shared in its blessings. Wherever the gospel was
faithfully preached, and the spirit of prayer awakened,
there the heavenly shower descended. During its progress,
the little group whose history we have thus far sketched,
gained a large measure of Christian nowledge and steadfast-
ness. Believers never advance so rapidly as in times of
spiritual refreshing. The truth of this romark was shown
in the experience of our young friends. From the impres:
sive scenes through which they passed, they acquired a
degree of intelligence and maturity in divine things which,
under ordinary circumstances, would have been the slow
growth of years,

Late in the autumn the mother of Frank died. Her
health had long been declining, and now gave way entirely.
During her protracted sickness, every attention was shown,
her by Mrs. Morton and others, which Christian kindness
could dictate. The presence ofthe Saviour cheered her
closing hours, and she departed, strong in the hope of
heaven, and blessing God for his great mercy to herself and
her son. After her decease, Mrs. Morton took the orphan
doy into her own house and sent him to school, allowing
him to work for her mornings and evenings, in order that
he might not fecl that he was eating tho bread of charity.

During the winter which followed, Clara caught a severe
cold, attended by soreness of the throat and a distressing
cough. Her illness at first excited no particular alarm ; and
the hope was fondly indulged that it would gradually pass
away when the weather became milder. This hope was
not realized. The season of flowers returned, and the bland
airs of May once more breathed fragrance and balm; but
they brought no increase of strength to Clara’s wasting
frame. Her bright face was seon no more among the happy
groups of the Sunday-school, or in the houso of God look-
ing up with earnest gaze to her revered pastor as the


TRE EARLY RIPE EARLY GATHERED. 113

message of grace foll from his lips. No longer did her light
form flit like a sunbeam from place to place, buoyant with
health and joy. On-soft, clear days, supported by her
mother or by Frank, she would sometimes take a short
walk across the Iawn, or along the alleys of her beloved
garden ; but her step was languid and slow, and tho slightest
exortion would be followed by great weariness and debility.

Slowly and almost imperceptibly she faded, like the
melting of some golden cloud at evening. Her large eyes
grow larger and brighter, her thin hand thinner, her ‘pale
check paler, except where a faint hectic tinge in its centre
betrayed the hidden fover that was drying up the fountain
of her young life. So insidious was the progress of her
disonso, that the many fond hearts that watched her could
not believe she was about to pass away from their midst.
Especially did Mrs. Morton repel the thought that her dear
one must die, and seize upon every favourable symptom to
keep hope alive, and stifle thé foreboding fears that rose in
her mind. Even the physician, a kind and skilful man, was
deceived, or, if aware of the danger, shrunk from declaring
it.

One morning in the month of June, Clara was lying on
a sofa in the parlour, propped up with pillows, with her
mother sitting beside her. ‘The day was warm and pleasant,
and the summer breeze came in through the open windows
Jaden with the odour of flowers. Clara’s sinking strongth
rallied a little under the mild influence of the season, and
she seemed so much improved, that Mrs. Morton, deceived
by the flattering appearances of returning health, said to
her—

“You are better to-day, my child, are you not? I trust
that, now the cold weather is gone, you will soon be quite
well again.”

Clara raised her large blue eyes, full of a deep, spiritual
expression, fora moment towards heaven; and then fixed
thos long and earnestly on her mother.

“Mother dear,” at length sho sxid, “I know how much.
you love me, dnd how painful it must be for-you to part

x
a4 THY RARLY RIVE EARLY GATHERED.

with me. But I am sure that God will give you grace to
bear whatever may be his holy will. I fear yon are decciv~
ing yourself in supposing that I am really any better. Ever
since I have been ill, an inward, forewaming voice has
whispered to me that I shall not recover. It has spoken to
me by day and by night—in the dreams of sleep, and in my
waking thoughts. I believe it to be from God, and that
he is abont to take me to himself Iam not afraid to dic,
for I fecl a sweet and delightful assurance that Christ has
redeemed and sanctified me by his blood, and prepared for
ame amansion in his Father's house. You have done all you
could, mother, to make me happy ; and, wore it God's will,
I should be glad tolive to repay youreare in ministering to
your declining years, Bit what he does is best. He can
‘comfort you far better than I could, if I were spared to you.
Heaven is a lovelier place than earth, mother; and though
I may go there a little before you, the separation will bo
short.

These words filled the mother’s heart with agony, and
her grief was at first almost insupportable. She felt that
she could not have it so; that she could not live if her
only earthly solace were taken from her. But after a few
minutes she rose from the shock; faith triumphed; and,
falling on her knees, she gave horself and her beloved child
into the hands of God, fervently praying that he would
grant her grace to ondure, without a murmur, all that his
wisdom might appoint. Then, sitting down by her daughter,
she folded her tenderly in her arms, and leaned her head
on her bosom. Thus they continued for a long time—Clara
lying with her eyes gently closed, and a calm smile playing
‘on her features, while the mother’s teara fell fast on her
pale brow, and trickled in large drops down her golden
hair. At last Clara opened her eyes, and looking up affec-
tionately into her mother’s face, said—

“There is one thing, mothor, that I have long wanted to
converse with you about, but have hesitated to do so feom
an unwillingness to distress you. Let me speak now, Sr I
know not how soan Imay be too weak to say all I wish.to
THE PARLY RIPE EARLY, GATHERED. 15

say. Apart from leaving you, mother, the only thought that
has been painful to me in view of an early death, is, that I
cannot live to glorify my Saviour by seeking to promote his
auso and to win souls to him. Ever since I have cherished
the hope of his pardoning mercy, it bas been the most
ardent desire of my heart, that I might be permitted to do
some good in the world. But ho can raise up others in my
place who can serve him far more officiontly than I could,
And I believe he has done so. You know how promising
Frank appears; what fine talents he has; how anxious he
seems to advance the interests of religion ; and how much
satisfaction is expressed whenever he takes part in our
social meetings. Every one says, that, could he have the
necessary advantages, he would make a most useful man.
I think God designs him for more than a common labourer.
in his vineyard. Now, mother, I have a great request to
make of you—it may be my last. I want you to alopt
Frank as your son, and give him a liberal education, Let
him be to you in the place of me when Iam gone. He will
be your support and stay, and prevent you from feeling
wholly desolate. It may be that the Lord will call him to
the ministry of the-gospel, and honour him as an instru-
ament of much good in his kingdom. And. then, though it is
his pleasure to call me away from the field of toil, there
will bo one left in my room, able to do the Saviour more
service than I, and ina way which could nevor have been
‘open to me.”

‘With many tears Mrs. Morton gave the desired promise,
and from that time Frank was regarded by her as a son,and
by Clara as a brother.

In a few weeks after this, Clara had sunk so rapidly as to
make it evident to all that hor Inst hour was near at hand.
But while her mortal frame grew weaker, her mind became
clearer and stronger. The soul, as the moment of release
drew nigh, seemed to look out beyond the bars of its prison-
house with a keener and brighter gaze, and to be already
pluming its wings for its heavenward flight. A placid smile
rested ever on her faco—an index of the holy peace within.




116 THY EARLY RIPE EARLY GATHERED.

Her Bible was constantly open by her side; and hour by
hour, as she lay on her couch, low whispered hymns, thanks-
givings, and prayers, would fall from her lips. “All earthly
regrets seemed dead within her. There was no clinging-of
the spirit to the world it was leaving—no trembling in view
of the world it was approaching. Eternity and its coming
glories absorbed all her thoughts, and left room for only one
anxiety—that those she loved here might meet her there.

Influenced by such feelings, she expressed a desire that
her Sunday-school teacher, together with the class to which
she had belonged, might make her a farewell visit. They
came; and as they stood weeping around her bed, she gave
each of them a lock of her hair, and distributed alt her little
trinkets among them as keepsakes; and taking them ten-
derly by the hand one by one, exhorted them to love their
Saviour, and to follow her to heaven. Then turning to her
teacher, she thanked her warmly for all her kind instruc-
tions, and asked that she might once more hear her voice
in prayer. Amidst streaming tears and bursting sobs, they
knelt down; and while the words of supplication went
upward into the ear of God, impressions were made on
many of the young hearts there, that in after years deep-
ened into vital piety.

‘The closing scene soon came. On a bright summer
morning, just as the sun had risen above the eastern hills,
and was sending its fresh rays into the chamber where
Clara lay, those who had watched with her during the
night perceived on her countenance that mysterious, inde-
scribable change, which tolls that life is departing. There
was no expression of pain, no ghastly look of agony, She
was still sleeping quietly. But upon that calm, still face,

there fell a shadow, as if from the form of Death bending
over it.



Mrs. Morton and Frank were instantly summoned. Seve-
ral also of the nearest neighbours who heard the tidings,
came hurrying in,and gazed solemnly on the unmistakeuble
seal imprinted on those marble features.

In a few moments, Clara awoke, and locked serenely
THE RARLY RIPE RARLY GATHERED, qT

round on the group in the chamber. She seemed conscious
that the final moment had come, and said with a sweet and
happy expression—

“Tam dying—I feel that Iam; but death has no terror
—I am going home to Jesus, to be with him for ever.”

Sho then requested to have her bed moved to the window,
that she might once more sce the green fields and the blue
sky.

“0, it is boautiful !” sho said, “this sweet world which
God has made ; but far sweeter, far better, is the world to
which Igo. Dear mother, don’t weep,” she added, turning
to her mother, who was leaning over her and crying bit-
terly; “don't weep for me, mother. I am happy, O so
happy. All sin, all pain, all sorrow, are over. Jesus smiles
upon me—bright angels are coming for me—heaven is

‘Turning again to the window, she lay for several minutes,
gazing on a sunlit cloud that hung high up in the clear sky,
with a look so deep and fixed, that it seemed to pierce far
away into the celestial regions, and to catch a glimpse of
their splendours. Suddenly a flash of triumphant joy shone
on her face, and irradiated every feature ; a soraphic light
‘beamed from her eye ; and, raising her hand; she exclaimed—

Mother ! don’t you hear them?

7 ‘Hark! they whtsper—angels say,
Sister spit, come away." .

‘The hand dropped to her side, a slight shiver passed over
her frame,-and she was gone.

Sorrow filled the little hamlet when Clara’s death became
known. Her beauty, her kindness, her simple and unaffected
piety, had endeared her to every heart, Even tho rade and
ignorant, as they went by the house and looked up at the
closed shutters, could not restrain their tears, as thoy
thought of the good and gentle one that lay dead within.
All felt that the sweetest flower of their valley, the brightest
vision that had blessed their sight, had passed away for
ever.

‘They buried her in a little grave by the old church. The


ns TUE IvIKxe FoR THE DEAD,

whole villago followed her to her last resting-place, stood
mournfully round her lowly bed, and bedewed it with their
tears. Many a loving hand planted it with roses and forget-
me-nots ; and often, for years afterwards, the children of
the Sunday-school would gather there, and muse sadly on
the memory of her that slopt beneath, and pray that they
might be as good as she was.

May all our young readers utter the same prayer. May
they seek the Saviour with their whole hearts, as Clara did ;
and then, whothor they dic, like her, in their morning’s
prime, or live long on the earth, they will be prepared to
follow hor to those bright, immortal shores, whore her
happy spirit now dwelis.

CHAPTER XVIII.
THE LIVING FOR THE DEAD,

Avren Clara’s death, Frank continued to reside with Mrs.
Morton, and was a source of great comfort to her in her
severe affliction. He was so grateful for her kindness, so
obedient to her every wish, and sympathized so warmly in
her sorrows, that gradually sho began to regard him with
something of the love which sho had felt for her departed
child. She never forgot that child, nor ceased to mourn
her loss; but she found some alleviation under the heavy
blow, by looking upon Frank as the representative of Clara,
and striving to fulfil her dying request on his behalf.

At the ond of a few months, she took him from-the school
which he had been attending in the village, and placed him
at an academy in a neighbouring town. Here, under ex-
perienced and skilful instructors, he made sich rapid
Proficiency, that in two years he entered college, where,
after passing the regular course, he graduated with a high
reputation for scholarship, and universally esteemed for his
consistent conduct and earnest piety.
‘THE LIVING FOR THE DEAD. 9

In the meantime, Hugh and his comrades grew up to
manhood, becoming every year moro steady and industrious,
and adorning, by s correct deportment, the religion which
they had professed. The former is now a successful mer-
chant in his native village; the latter are substantial and
Prosperous farmers. All three are decided Christians,
active and liberal supporters of every good enterprise, and
manifesting a special interest in the Sunday-school to whose
instructions they owe so much.

After leaving college, Frank spent two years at a theo-
logical. seminary, and was then ordained as pastor over
a church in one of the beautiful valleys of the Green
Mountains. Mrs. Morton disposed of her cottage, and went
to reside with him, The evening of her days was cheered
by his grateful care; and she died rich in the graces of »
resigned and trusting spirit, and blessing her adopted son.

Frank is still living, and still lifts up his voice as a watch-
man on the walls of Zion. Having laboured successfully
for some yenrs in his native place, he was induced by the
spiritual wants and rapidly increasing population of another
district, to make it the scone of his future efforts. But
though far removed from the spot of his birth, though now
and strange scenés now meet his eye, instead of the retired
vale and narrow stream where his childhood was passed,
yet Green Hollow has never faded from his memory; and
‘amid the lapse of years, and the influence of new scenes and
toils, there still lives, enshrined among his dearest and
most sacred recollections, the little grass-covered grave
where Clara sleeps.

Our story is now done. The object which we have had
in view in rehearsing it, is, we trust, apparent to all. We
have sought, in thus recalling a train of incidents familiar
to our earlier observation, to awaken a warmer interest in
behalf of the neglected children of ignorance and vice; and
to show that, under the blessing of God, even the most
depraved can be reached by Christian effort, kindly snd

wisely directed. Miultitudes of such children are to be
=
120 THE LIVING FOR THE DEAD. <7

found on every side of us, growing up in darkness and sin,
aud preparing only for crime and wretchedness here, and
for endless woe hereafter. Many of these minds possess
natural powers which, developed by culture and sanctified
by the Spirit of God, would rendor them the teachers and
benefactors of their race; and all are of inestimable worth,
for all are immortal, and destined to live for ever in heaven.
orinhell. There are mines of untold riches, treasures of
incalculable price, wherever you look. In the bosom of
the rudest child—of the most degraded thing that passes
you in rags, or lies sprawling in dirt at your feet—there is
a gem whose value God only can, compute, and eternity
alone can unfold—a gem which, if brought out and purified
by Divine grace from the corruption that now entombs it,
will shine in the diadem of Christ with ever brightening
lustre through interminable ages, Search out these buried
pearls. Gather those imbruted minds and hearts into the
sanctuary and the Sunday-school. Bring them under the
light of the gospel; surround them with the holy, melting
influence of Christian love; and never despair of them,
never abandon them, till they are reformed, regenerated,
saved. Your reward will be sure, both in this world and in
tho next. “He that winneth souls is wise.” “And they
that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament ;
and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars for
ever and ever.”

Some of the young persons into whose hands this little
book may fall, are perhaps themselves destitute of that
true religion which it has been its aim to set forth and
recommend. Whether growing up uninstracted in the
doctrines and obligations of the gospel, or favoured with
the amplest means of spiritual oulture, they are yet
strangers to God and to the renewing power of his grace.
‘We cannot close these pages without addressing to such a.
brief appeal, and presenting a few motives to induce them
to seck an interest in Christ as the first and great business
of their lives.

‘You admit, we will presume, the absolute necessity of


THE IVING YOR THE DEAD. wan

religion to your eternal welfare, But you are prevented
from making it an object of immediate concern by the per-
suasion that some future time will be more favourable to
its attainment. Yet, if ever you are brought to the Saviour,
it will probably be in the days of your youth, Your minds
are now more susceptible of religious impression than they
are likely to be at any subsequent period. The proces’ by
which the heart hardens itself against the voice of Divine
truth, is commonly a gradual one. In early life, the invita~
tions and warnings of the gospel awaken, in most cases,
moro or less of emotion. But if its claims be disregarded,
the inevitable result is, a deeper indifference to them, and
a greater facility in throwing off their pressure. Resistance
to the call of duty strengthens into a habit, and the mind
acquires a fearful power of evading whatever would lead it
away from the path of death. In this manner, thousands
have advanced from one degree of obduracy to another,
until now they can be moved by no threatenings, no entrea-
ties, no expostulations. ‘There is a point in the career of
rebellion against God, beyond which if the sinner gocs, his
repentance becomes well-nigh impossible. He has so long
trifled with the means and offers of mercy, that they have
ceased to exert any influence upon him; while the strivings
and monitions of the Spirit, often and wantonly repelled,
are either withdrawn, or fall on his hard and seared bosom
powerless as moonbeams on the tops of snowy mountains.
And will you, by delaying to embrace Christ, expose your
eternal welfare toa hazard so tremendous! Will you lose
the advantage of present tenderness of feeling, and pass on
into that fast coming period, when the absorbing cares of
‘business, a stupified conscience, and confirmed habits of
sin, will render your conversion almost a miracle | What
image can picture the folly of such a courset Suppose
yourself standing on the shore of Niagara, a little distance
above the mighty cataract, where the agitated waters are
foaming and flashing, and hurrying on, dark and swift, to
Jeap into the abyss. You see a man enter a light skiff, and
push into the stream. Amazed, you cry out to him, “Do
122 THE LIVING FOR THE DEAD.



a not know that just below you thoro is a point in the
river where the enrrent becomes so rapid, that no mortal
strength or skill can resist its force?” “Yes,” he replios;
“but I have no intention of venturing so far. I design
merely to amuse myself by floating hero a while, and shall
return long before the place of danger is reached.” And
tho strong tide sweeps him downward. Thus, for a time,
he continues ta descend, pleased with. the exciting motion,
and lulling fear to sleep, by imagining that he can gain the
land whenever he may desire it. And now the waves grow
wilder and more angry, and bear oward his frail bark with
more terrific cclerity. At length he himself becomes
alarmed, and seizing tho oar, plies it with the energy of
desperation. But it is too late. Tho fatal lino has been
crossed. The greedy waters have made sure of their proy.
And after being carried, for a few moments, with an arrow’s
speod, along the rushing torrent, he hangs an instant on the
dizay brink—then plunges over, and is seen no more!
Such is the reckless daring—the suicidal madness—of that
youth who neglects to secure his immortal interests, until
the invincible stupidity and worldliness of Inter years make
his return to God all but hopeless.

Early piety will preserve you from the snares of tempta-
tion, “As you emerge into active life, you will be beset by
many demoralizing influences leagned to accomplish your
ruin. Perils will surround you on every side. Your path
will be strewed thick with lures to deceive and fascinations
to betray. The siren voices of Pleasure will be there, to
seduce you to her deadly embrace; and the false lights of
Infidelity, to draw you from truth and virtue into the
mazes of doubt, delusion, and profligacy. Here the vender
of intoxicating drinks will throw open his moral pest-house,
to invite you to taste the cup of madness and woe. There
the theatre—that vestibule of hell—will solicit you to enter
its polluted enclosure, and witness scenes whose catastrophe
is the’perdition of souls; while clos beside it will be the
haunt of her whose feet go down to death, and whose steps
are on the brink of the pit. Dare you venture forth into




THE LIVING FoR THs DEAD. 223

such a world without that shield which the gospel only can
supply? “ Wherewithal shall a young man cleanse his
way? By taking heed thereto according to Thy word.”
‘What but a firm belief of the Bible, and a personal experi-
ence of its sanctifying power, can certainly preserve you
from boing led far astray by vicious companions, to tho
utter loss of reputation, peace, and usefulness? Can you
set bounds to human depravity? Have you no fear your
self, where so many have stumbled and perished! And will
you, rejecting the safeguards of piety, resolve to meet,
alone and undefended, the numerous hazards that will en-
compass you? Religion—bright daughter of the skies—
descends from her starry home, to be your friend and pro-
tector. A crown, sparkling with immortal gems, encircles
her head; and in her hand she brings all the blessings of
time and all the rewards of eternity. She offers to conduct
you safely through all the dangers of your earthly journey,
and bring you at last in triumph to heaven, And will you
—poor, darkling wanderer in a wilderness of porils—turn
away from this celestial companion, and refuso her guid-
anco! Embarked on a stormy and treacherous sea, where
many a noble ship has foundered, and where no human
wisdom or foresight can suffice to direct your way—will
you scorn the pilot which Divine mercy has provided tO,
yield yourself at once to the control of the gospel. And
then, with Christ at the helm, the Bible for your chart,
Faith for your compass, Hope for your pole-star, and the
breath of God's Spirit to fill your sails—you shall hold on
your course, safe from the rock and the quicksand, till you
reach the haven of everlasting peace.

You doubtless wish to be useful to your fellow-men. No
one, not utterly besotted, can be content to live only for
himself. You would do something for others; something
that shall make the world better for your having been in
it. In this, genuine Scriptural piety will be your best
helper. It will prepare you, in whatever condition you
may be placed, to exert a healthful influence upon thoso
around you. In reclaiming tho vicious, succouring the
124 THE LIVING FOR THE DEAD.
needy, enlightening the ignorant, raising up the down-
trodden, it will be your surest teacher and your most
potent incentive. And ‘vhile it will thus qualify you,
nothing else can, to mitigate the temporal ills of your
fellow-creatures—it, and it alone, will enable yon to sub-
serve those higher interests which have reference not only
to the life that now is, but to that which is to come, Can
you propose to yourself a more worthy aim? Is there any
other object that deserves for a moment to be compared
with itt Would you live not in vain? Give up your
whole heart, then, to the religion of Jesus, and act ever
from the holy and benevolent motives which it inspires.
You hope for happiness in this world. Your dazzled
eye fills the onward landscape with visions of -beanty and
delight. ‘These are the dreams of youth, bright but delu-
sive. The Word of God and universal experience alike
dcelare, that the only true enjoyment to be found on earth
flows from the possession and exercise of vital piety. You
may seek it from other sources, but the result will be dis-
appointment, The things of time and sense cannot satisfy
you; they are empty and fiecting; and when they depart,
‘as depart they will, they leave you comfortless. But reli-
gion gives a peaco that enriches all other blessings,
sweetons the bitter cup of adversity, and lives when every
ckrthly joy is withered and fied. This peace consists in
dcliverance from the dominion of sin; in the approval of
conscience ; in a growing conformity to God, and commu-
nion with him; and in the assured hope of ‘his present
and overlasting favour. The sincere believer can rejoice
in Jehovah, as his reconciled Father; in Christ, as hi
Redeemer and Advocate; and in the Holy Spirit, as his
fanctifier and Comforter. However obscure and tried may
be his lot, he knows that the presence of the Saviour is
ever with him; that Infinite Wisdom is his guide, and
Omnipotence his support; that his temporal sorrows are
designed but to prepare him for a state of eternal rest and
joy; and that when this bricf season of suffering is past,
he shall be admitted to those regions of supreme and un-






THE LIVING FOR THE DEAD. 125

sullied bliss, whose glories eye hath not seen nor ear
heard. What has the world to offer that can bear the most
distant comparison with these pure, substantial, divine plea-
sures of the child of God? Would you have an unfailing
refuge in trouble—a sweet solace for every sorrow—a star
of hope and.consolation, gilding, with its serene ray, all the
steps of your pilgrimage down to the grave; and then set-
ting, only to rise and shine in a higher sphere, undimmed.
for ever? This will bo yours, if you choose Christ as your
portion.

Every claim of sacred obligation invokes you to become
pious now in the days of your youth.
He gave you being.
ties

God requires it.
He endowed you with rational facul-
His hand upholds you. His goodness lavishes on
you unnumbered benefits. Amd shall not gratitude lead.
You to consecrate to him your first and best affections?
‘Phe Lord Jesus Christ invites you to come to him, and en-
forces the invitation by the cheering promise, “They that
seek mo carly shall find me.” He died to save you. He
offers you pardon and eternal bliss—gifts bought with his
own blood. Can you refuse his grace? Will yon give the
bloom of life to sin, and leave for him only its waning and
its decay? ©, now—now—in thy morning’s dawn—remom-
ber and love the God who made thee, and the Saviour who
redeemed thee.

Early piety will fit you for an early death. It is pro-
bable that, among our youthful readers, there are those who
have but a short term allotted to them on carth. Some of
the bright eyes that now trace these lines, may soon be
quenched in the grave. Who they are, and how many,
that shall thus be summoned away, is known only to him
in whose hands our breath is, and who hath appointed our
‘bounds that we cannot pass. You may be of the number.
Others as young as yourself, and with as fair a prospect
of long life, have been cut down by sudden or lingering
disease; and can you be sure that your deys will be pro-
longed? Have you any armour of proof that renders you
invulnerable to the arrows by which multitudes are falling




126 THE LIVING FOR THE DEAD.

on your right hand and on your left? The bare-possibility
that death may be near, should rouse you to secure, with-
out delay, the salvation of your soul. Then, however
speedily you may be called hence, the great end of exist-
ence will be attained; your eternal interest will be safe
and in the world above, your ransomed spirit will bloom
with a beauty that never fades, and a youth that never
decays.

By becoming religious now, you will escape the misery
of an impenitent old age. There is no situation so bereft
of hope—so destitute of all that can comfort and sustain—
as the decline of life without religion. Well may “the
days” of one who has grown gray in transgression be
deemed * evil,” and his © years” be said to “ bring no plea-
sure with them.” Where shall the aged sinner turn for con-
solation? If he look back on the past, it is only to take a
mournful review of youth, and health, and strength for ever
fled—of events and pursuits which have long passed away—
of frionds and kindred that have gone before him to the
tomb—of pleasures whose garlands have all withered—of
passions that have burned themselves out, and lie smoul-
dering in their ashes—of plans defeated, Inbours frustrated,
hopes blighted and dead, privileges misimproved, resolu-
tions broken, gilt accumulated, and days of grace squan-
Jered and lost, never more to be recalled. If he contem-
plate the present, he finds nothing to soothe his regrets, or
Felieve the dreary void that sprends around him. His
former occupations are all suspended. Tho companions of
other years are no moro by his side. Another generation
is on the stage; and he stands in a world of new men and
of new projects, alone and solitary, like some decayed tree
amidst the younger and moro Vigorous denizens of the
forest. If he glance forward to the future, there, too, all is
dark and dismal. The grave, with its shroud and coffin,
its gloom and its corruption, yawns before him—its cold
and voiceless chambers brightened by no expectation of a
Vlessed rising. The river of death, into which he must
plunge so soon, rolls deep and’ troubled at his fect, with no
THE LIVING FoR TIE DEAD. 127

ray of faith to illumine its dreaded passage, and no star of
promise beaming above it; while the illimitable region.
that stretches beyond appears to him covered with the
shadows of doubt, or as the scene of awful retribution,
whore the undying worm and the quenchless fire await his
coming. - 0, wretched are the old who have no God and no
hope! Dreadful must it be to drag out the last, sad rem-
nant of life, unsupported by a Saviour’s presence ; dreadfal
to go tottering and stumbling downward to the grave, with
no lamp to guide the dim eye, no almighty arm to bear up
the sinking frame; dreadful to seo a night hastening on
that is to be followed by no dawning, and earth disappear-
ing, but no heaven opening on the view !

Do you recoil from a prospect so full of terror? See that
it be not realized in your own experience. By all the con-
siderations which have beon urged, be persuaded to make
religion your first and chief concern. ‘This will prepare
you for whatever the future may unfold. If you die
young, it will enable you to leave the world without regret,
because you have a better inheritance. If you are spared
to old age, it will render the evening of your life sweeter
than its morn—clear without @ cloud—and radiant with the
visions of approaching immortality. Whenever the final
hour shall come—bo it early, be it late—the Saviour whom
you have loved and served will say to you, * Well done,
enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.”



THE END.

EDRenGRGH? PRINTRD BY 7. NFISON AND BONS.


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ie ER a re eI




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10 1, NEISON AND SON, LONDON AND EDINBUNGH.

VALUABLE RELIGIOUS WORKS.

LAD TIDINGS; or, Tho Gospel of Poaco—A Sertes of Dally Readings for
Christian Disciples By the Rev. Dr. Twexpre, author of ** Seod Tine
nd Harvest,” &c, Fop. 8vo, cloth, 2a 6d. Gilt leaves, 3 Morocco clugant, 7
AILY BIBLE READINGS FOR THE LORD'S HOUSEHOLD. By tho
‘Rev. Jases Suirm, 18mo, cloth gilt, 2. Mor. plain, 38. 6d. Mor. extra, Ser
‘HE BOOK OF FAMILY WORSITIP AND HELTS TO DEVOTION.
By the Rev. W. B. Ctanx. Fooiseap 8v0, cloth, price 2a Gilt leaves,
25.64. Morocco antiane, 58. 6d.
HE CONGREGATIONAL TONE BOOK, Containing upwards of 270 of
tho most admired Psalm and Hymn Funes, Chuunts, &c. arranged for
by ADAM Wurcur, Esq, Organist of Rev. J. Angell Jumes*
iFmingham. Cloth, price a 6d. Half moraceo, 6s.
LIJAU THE TISHBITE. New and clegant edition. Foolscap 8va, cloth,
Price 2a. Gilt leaves, 2x. Gd. Morocco vlegant, 7a.
LISHA. By Kewwnacaouen, with Preface by Bicxeustern. Fodlscap 8v0,
cloth, price a, Gilt loaves, 25.60. Morocco elegant, 7%
OGATSKY'S GOLDEN TREASURY. Foolscap 8vo, cloth, price 22 Gilt
eaves, 28. Gd. Morocco elegant, 73.
AMILY PICTURES FROM THE BIBLE, 16mo, cloth, price 1a 64. GUE
Teaver, 25.
HE WORLD TO COME. By Isiac Warrs 18mo, cloth, price In 6a.
Ge leaves, 25.
ENKS' FAMILY AND PRIVATE DEVOTIONS 18mo, cloth, price
18.60. Giltleaves, 25,
SLEEP IN JESUS; or, Words of Consolation for Bereaved Parents,
‘16mo, cloth, gilt edyen, 1s. 6d.
HRISTIAN BIOGRAPHY —Lives of Bunyan, Wal, und Wenry. By the
Rev. Dr. Jawa Hasutrox. 18mo, cloth, gilt leaves, 18 6d.
ARROW'S (DR. ISAAC) WHOLE WORKS, 3 volumos 8vo. With Life,
by the Rev. Jamxs Hasaurox, DD. London. Cloth, price 295





ISHOP HALL'S CONTEMPLATIONS With Life, by tho Rev. Janne
‘Hasmyrox, D.D., London. One handsome volume 8vo, price 72, 64.

ISHOP HORNE'S COMMENTARY ON THE PSALMS. One volume 8va
price 6x.

LiiGnrows (ARCHBISHOP) WHOLE WORKS With Life Complete
{tn one volume 8v9, prico 7a. 62.

ILNER’S HISTORY OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH. Complete in ono
‘volume 8vo, price 10s. 6d.










NELSON AND SONS, LONDON AND EDINBURGH. a



BOOKS OF TRAVEL, BIOGRAPHY, &. ~
HINA: Sketches of the Country, Religion, and Customs of the Chiness.
Biustrated. Royal 92mo, cloth, price 148d. Cloth gilt, 1s. Ga,

HE ARCTIC REGIONS. Royal 820, cloth, price 14 a4. Cloth git,
1s 6d.

(PME ISLAND WORED OF THE PACIFIC. By Cuueven, Royal 820,
clom, price 18 24, Cloth gilt, 18. 6d.
ATTS' SCRIPTURE HISTORY, Completa Royal 82mo, cloth, prico
Qs, Bd. Cloth galt, 18. Ga.
HE YOUNG LADY'S FRIEND. Royal S2mo, cloth, prico Is. dd. Cloth
gilt, 1a. 6a.
I[PTE GIRLS BOOK. By Mes Stoommver. Royal s2mo, cloth, price
Ja 3d. Cloth gilt 1s 6a.
FPRE ROV'S ROOK. By Mas. SioowmsET. Royal 22mo, cloth, price 18.24,
Cloth gilt, 1s. 6d.
‘TEPHEN'S TRAVELS IN THE HOLY LAND. Royal 32mo, cloth, prieo
An Bd, Cloth gil, 1s. 6d.
HE BOOK OF NATURAL HISTORY. Royal 32mo, cloth, price 1s. 3.
Cloth gilt, 18 da.

FPHE BOOK OF ENTERTAINING AND INSTRUCTIVE ANECDOTE,
Royal 32mo, cloth, price 1s 3d. Cloth gilt, Is. 6a,

JBYENTNOs AT HOME, Koyel s2mo, loth, price 1s 34 Cloth gilt, 18.64.
URIOSITIES AND WONDERS OF NATURE AND ART. Royal 32mo,
‘cloth, price In. 4. Cloth gilt, In. 6.

DVENTURES OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. Roynl32mo, cloth, price 1x 3d.
Cloth gilt, 1s. 6a.

ILTON'S POETICAL WORKS. Paradiso Lost and Regained. Royal
9mo, cloth, price la. 3d. Cloth gilt, 1s 6a,

TOXGFELLOW'S POETICAL Wonks.” With Stecl Portrait, Royal
‘s2mo, cloth, price In 3d. Cloth gilt, 18, 6d.

ISTORY OF SANDFORD AND MERTON. Royal 32mo, cloth, price
In Bd. Cloth gilt, 1s. 6d.

\OXE'S BOOK OF MARTYRS. Royal 32mo, cloth, price 1a Bd. Cloth
‘eile, 18 6a.

REE WHITE'S POETICAL WOMKS: With Life by Sourmer. Royal
B2mo, cloth, price 1s. 8d. Cloth git, 1s 6d.

/HEEVER'S MEMORIALS OF A YOUTHFUL CHRISTIAN. Royal





‘Bamo, cloth, price La. 3d. Cloth gilt, 1a. 60. |




12 1T, NELSON ANTYBONS, LONDON AND EDINBURGH.





NELSONS’ BRITISH LIBRARY, IN CLASSIFIED VOLUMES.
GUEANINGS OF SACTEED PHILOSOPNY. Fooleay Gro) loth, price
Ta. 6d, Gilt Teaves, 26
IVES OF ILLUSTRIOUS MEN. Foolscap 8vo, cloth, price 1s, 6a, Gilt

leaves, 26
(PALES FOR ALL READERS, Foolikiy @vo, clot, price ts: 6a. Ge

Teaves, 2.
GTORIES FRow ciToNCH HISTORY. Fooltnp Bro loth, wriov 1 64

Gilt leaves, 25,
QTORIES OF MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE, Footuap Sv, cloth, price

Is Gd. Gilt leaves, ts.





ELEGANT GIFT BOOKS.
smo, with Fine Iuminatod Frontispieces and Vignottes.
TpHE CORONAL. “Talon and Poneitings, By Maa LI Stoouner. 38m
cloth, gilt leaves, price 2, Morocco elerant, 98
TPHE GEM; or, FIRESIDE TALES. 18mo, cloth, price 2a Morocco cle-

gant, 58,
LARA'S AMUSEMENTS, By Mus, Asxa Bacur, 16mo, cloth, price 25

‘Moroceo elegant, fs.



Royal 32mo, gilt leaves, 1s. 6d, Mor. extra, 35. 6d.
‘ne Forget-Mo-Not. | Marmion. Hy Sir Walter Scott
‘A Parting Gift Paul and Virginia, and the Exiles
Git of Love and Friendship. of Siberia.
Songs of Home and Haypiness, ‘Thomson's Seasons, aud the Castle ot
Emblems and Pootry of Flowers, Indolence.
‘Spring Wild Flowers ‘The Queen's Wake. By the Ettrick

Elah the Tishbite. Shepherd.
‘The Olney Hymns, ‘The Hasp of Jadah.
Boratsky's Golden Treawury. Annals of the Poor

| The Lady of the Lake. Stories and Sketches By ‘Todd.



THE JEWEL GIFT BOOKS.
s2mo, cloth gilt, 1s. Cloth extra, gilt, 1s. 6a.

‘Tho Farewell Gift. ‘The Keepsake.
‘Pho Remembrancer. ‘The Forget-Me-Not.
‘The Poetry of Flowers.

LANGUAGE, POETRY, AND SENTIMENT OF FLOWERS. 48mo, clotty,
‘oxtra pile, with beatiful Maminated Frontispiece and Vignette, 1s 64.


















NELSON AND SONS, LONDON AND EDINBUNGIT. 1s





THE ROYAL JUVENILE LIBRARY,
Cloth plain, price 25. 6d. Gilt leaves, 3s.
SPLENDIDLY TLUSTRATED.

1 SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON. With Eight Engravings from Designs
by Drewes, Ginsenr, &e.

DVENTURES OF ROBINSON CRUSOE, With Eight Engravings from
Designs by Grumenr.

(THE HAPPY HOLIDAYS. With Fight Engravings from Designs by B.
Fosrum,

ISTORY OF SANDFORD AND MERTON, With Fight Engravings from
Designs by Gruwent and Fostex.

NEW SERIES OF VOLUMES FOR THE YOUNG.
Foolscap 8vo, Large ‘Type.

UMMER DAYS; or, The Cousing With boantifal Frontisplece and
‘Vignette. Cloth, price 18 60, Gilt leaves, 25.

OME PRINCIPLES IN BOYHOOD. With beautiful Frontispiece and
‘Vignette. Cloth, price 1s. 6d. Gilt leaves, 24,

TLAt 02? ANP LEWrS, AND OTHER STORIES, with hountifat Frontis-
pleco and Vignette. Cloth, price Is Gd. Gilt leaves, 24

HE CHILDREN AND THE ROBIN, AND OTHER STORIES. With
beautiful Frontispiece and Vignette. Cloth, price Is. Gd. Gilt leaves, 25.

TORY OF THE MORETON FAMILY. With elegant Frontispiece and
Vigmette, cloth, price 16 6d. Gilt Teaves, 2a

EBRLES FROM THE SEA-SHORE, With elegant Frontispiece and
‘Vignette, cloth, price 1a Gd. Gilt Teaves, 25.



TVERBANK; or, The Clifford Family. With ologant Frontisptece and
‘Vignette. Cloth, price 1s. 6d. Gilt leaves, 25.



IPE HOLIDAY GIFT FOR BOYS consisting of Fivo Volumes of Stories
tn a Handsome Caso, price 1a. 6a.

(PRE HOLIDAY GIFT FOR GIRLS —consting of Five Volumes of Stories
In a Handsome Case, price 1a. 6d,










14 1, NELSON AND SONS, LONDON AND RDINBURGH.



BOOKS FOR THE YOUNG.
1gmo. With Fine Frontispieces and Vignettes.

IPME_GREAT sEORET! on, How 9 to Hapyy. Nosy hound in cloth
Peoria earn See
CoUSHNS: on Lave Ove Anton ently tun In ith, price 38
Git nen tn th :
LEN LUCAS: on oul Decision, Nea bound thy mice 4
it oan 10 68 "
ARLES LINN; on, How te Observe the Golan Keil Bown ia
Mn pe eG tava te aa
HE GOLDEN RULE: or, Dp t Otters as zoe wold have Others do to
Sons” Neaty boi ct rene “cielonvon tn 66

HE BASKET OF FLOWERS; or, Piety and Truth Triumphant. Neatly
Bound in cloth, price 18, Gilt leaves, 18. 64.

ITTLE ROBINSON OF PARIS; or, The Triamph of Industry. By Lver
Laxpox, Neatly bound in cloth, price 1s Giltleaves, La 6d.



4G STORY BOOK OF WONDERS IN NATURE AND AIT. By Mas.
Suxnwoup. Neatly bound in cloth, price 1s Gilt leaves, Ia. 6d.

HZ BOY'S OWN BOOK OF STORIES FROM HISTORY. Neatly bound
in cloth, price 1s, Gilt leaves, 1s. Gd.

HE TRIAL OF SKILL; or, Which is the West Story? Neatly bound In
loth, price 1s. Gilt leaves, 1a. 6d.

ALES FOR THE YOUNG. By Miss Exucnr, Neatly bound in cloth,
‘price Ie Gilt leaves, 36 6d.

ANNALS OF THE POOR. By Luan Licnuosp. Neatly pound tn cloth,
price 18 Gilt leaves, In. 6d.

CRIPTURE ILLUSTRATED. With Inrnonuertox by Topp. Neatly
bound in cloth, price In Gilt eaves, Is. 64.

SABBATH LIBRARY FOR LITTLE READERS.
Price Sixpence each, with beautiful git cover.
Life of Dantel> By Mrs. Hook Anecdotes of the Bible.

Life of David. By Mrs. Hooker. ‘The Dairyman's Daughter.
‘Todd's Lectures to Children. ‘The Negro Servant.










{F. NELSON AND SONS, LONDON AND EDINBULGH. 15



HOME LIBRARY FOR LITTLE READERS.

Price 64. cach, with beautiful git cover, Or 94. each,
‘fancy cloth, gilt leaves.

Jessie Graham ; oF, Friends Dear, but
‘Trath Dearer.

Blind Alice; or, Do Right, if you
wish to be Hapiy’.

Grace and Clara; or,
‘as Generona

Florence Arnot; or, IsShe Generous?

Ellen Leslie; oF, The Reward of Self
Control

Stories fo Little Readern Adorned
with Pictures. First Series.

Siories for Little Rewdera Ado:
with Pictures. Second Series,

Love Token for Children.

A Kiss fora Blow; or, Stories of Love.
and Kindness ia the Young

Kittle Clara.

Aarry Burne.

Be Just us well





Sunshine and Shade; or, The Den-
‘ham Family.

Sister Mury's Stories

Story of the Walter Family.

‘The Mother's Story, &e.

‘Tho Well Spent Hour.

Ellen Carrol.

Cousin Clara.

Mary Ross.

‘The Little Pootry Book.

‘The Faithful Dog, &e.

‘The Play Hour, &e.

James Thornton.

Barry Sanford.

Wha Flowers

Harry Edwards,

Stories for the Young. First Series

Stories for the Young. Second Series,

SABBATH STORIES FOR LITTLE READERS.
Price One Farthing each.

Harriet and Edward, &.
‘The Almond Blossom, do.
James Simpson, &e.

‘The Golden Key.
‘The Way to be lappy.
Story of Theodore.

And a varioty 0. othera
Price One Halfpenny each.

Little Charles,
‘The Broken Flower.
Sarah Williams,

“The Kind Little Boy, &ee.
Eaith and Charles, &e-
Stories on the Lord's Prayer.

And a variety of others
Price One Penny each.

‘The Children and the Dove.
Little Frank and his Letter.
Sailor Boy and his Bible.

Who Directs our Steps?
‘Tho Lark's Nest.
Lucy Roberts

‘And a variety of others,
Price Twopence each.

Robert, Margaret, and Maria,
Robert Ellis
Honesty tho Best Policy.



‘The Morning Wall, &e. -
‘The Holidays; or, A Visit Home,
Jane Scott.

And a variety of others,




16

SA







‘Tho Arthur Faraily. | Mary Evann
‘Tho Little Fabulints.

Sarah and Laura, ‘Witlam Bartlett,
Koo and Louisa, ¥ilen Morrison.
Robert and Emilly. Alfred Singleton.

Xieton Mansion ‘ten Havt
‘The Henderson. Faroty, |

INCLE TOM'S PICTURE BOOK. In verse. Dedicated, by permission, to






{hr Ghat tho poema wntch conuue lm chlet features are trom the pam oF de kiied poste,
Mts Pranees Browne

TMPLE HANS, AND OTHER FUNNY PICTURES AND STORIES.
‘Numerous Engravings. Small Quarto, price 64.



"r. NEISON AND SONS, LONDON AND EDINBURGH.



BBATH STORIES FOR LITTLE READERS.
Price Threepence each.
With Frontispiece and Ploture Gover.
“Alfred. Somerville.
And a vartoty of others.

Price Fourpence each.
‘With Frontispiece and Beautiful Gilt Cover.



And a variety of others
Price Sixpence each.
With Frontispiece and Beautiful Git Cover

Helen and her Cousin.
‘And a variety of others.



Just Ready, m series of beautiful
PICTURE REWARD CARDS,
Bach containing a Hymn and a neat Engraving.
Price 24, 34. 4d., and Gd. per dozen.

NEW PICTURE BOOKS FOR CHILDREN.

Her Grace the Duchess of Suiherland. Small Quarta, price 6d.

im Men Stowe Interesting
racy, and ne higher reeomnmensatlon can be necded for ft tha



ts one of the mont humorous books ever publlahed for the narsery, while at the sme



‘H dalighis ha young readers, "Tne wumeraas Hey i





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3322e9c92577a927817978f18d94664220b957d5
'2011-12-31T14:12:10-05:00'
describe
'271' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKBW' 'sip-files00001.txt'
783fd4a916c63e476f42e505240b47b6
40ceb83f0f62600205346f07965f6ea95f39f111
'2011-12-31T14:09:04-05:00'
describe
'14440' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKBX' 'sip-files00001thm.jpg'
fa8cc040588084e6fa206853c25a5821
2ab8e9a08c921b6a37b7a8c8be96c54b09b154c3
'2011-12-31T14:11:19-05:00'
describe
'64216' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKBY' 'sip-files00003.jp2'
eddf7d1428c050b6a23ecb2968302432
4a05c7bd3d1f26ea770ef254b60c8c5709e35ce6
'2011-12-31T14:10:06-05:00'
describe
'87359' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKBZ' 'sip-files00003.jpg'
75b7739426d67242494680311b0acea9
9980a25979d938721e5dc136ea04be7523ee5d3e
'2011-12-31T14:09:59-05:00'
describe
'25264' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCA' 'sip-files00003.pro'
8544ba6c0876c6fdbf87bf35c80c971c
7a27f33f734155753cbe2ba7945e4b8f9695e372
'2011-12-31T14:11:45-05:00'
describe
'40832' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCB' 'sip-files00003.QC.jpg'
6566406e357fee8918636f3f3abdda01
aa8ea990e657a7eae04aff465307586d4bd51bd1
'2011-12-31T14:09:03-05:00'
describe
'1553188' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCC' 'sip-files00003.tif'
a4775f42b997ad8f870e233ff6432220
156ac493a428f4a7e7ec37783fb80d39a821f9f2
'2011-12-31T14:09:56-05:00'
describe
'1011' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCD' 'sip-files00003.txt'
5cb70dab2606f8c11e02beccc96ff084
b16fb97a506acd9bdce1a822a57c989142b5639f
'2011-12-31T14:11:56-05:00'
describe
'19330' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCE' 'sip-files00003thm.jpg'
0c12dc4dbfbaf6f09596113201982fe4
603f75ee0bf1b494cf477b597fdf717601a86742
describe
'64072' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCF' 'sip-files00005.jp2'
f80cb1229fe383bda2325744c1cf3c63
9966df15189ebace9821d1682ee3e62e70d6f256
'2011-12-31T14:09:20-05:00'
describe
'47980' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCG' 'sip-files00005.jpg'
d1dbac7471e163d5ff3424c0add8c268
b29312753addf0b8470fe54a0dbc36c763e18710
'2011-12-31T14:08:20-05:00'
describe
'10498' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCH' 'sip-files00005.pro'
60d73be7c78450833672f35b6eb4d9ae
fa103d06f8b5a6c28f36050dafee79f62439b030
'2011-12-31T14:11:12-05:00'
describe
'24537' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCI' 'sip-files00005.QC.jpg'
7921c0cea25225bf20988016b8ceec6e
91a0949a32d8809f42589b660dc79d5fce3beb5a
'2011-12-31T14:10:09-05:00'
describe
'1550912' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCJ' 'sip-files00005.tif'
5fa7e297ca050e23c3a252927515771d
32a3db854d83b0d64223629e567c301581af27ea
'2011-12-31T14:11:23-05:00'
describe
'662' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCK' 'sip-files00005.txt'
316395a47cb20d02b38f74db86afe884
f55c55f5f286ea711eaa147a893aab81cda7c1eb
'2011-12-31T14:11:11-05:00'
describe
'13813' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCL' 'sip-files00005thm.jpg'
dba1d39d12f5799a24cdb8623e4dc077
62149a04bbe630d94ebc071154312cd97df31864
'2011-12-31T14:10:56-05:00'
describe
'64262' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCM' 'sip-files00007.jp2'
b2d9e4fd30923bde3c10435304174af7
efb6d024e9d7af1e16ab5717ceedd6bfe8c97c4b
describe
'91387' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCN' 'sip-files00007.jpg'
657d0949bcca61f411eac3b2e9db8acf
3afc43049c4ef6191b0325595b9f404533d99f24
'2011-12-31T14:08:43-05:00'
describe
'31181' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCO' 'sip-files00007.pro'
04ffdf820b0caa62c496de7796a9530a
6cdc0391c41618b0bf99a3454c1a118e77e32728
'2011-12-31T14:09:49-05:00'
describe
'40051' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCP' 'sip-files00007.QC.jpg'
8df79259d4d8c8fc43d9a47a4335f774
5a0f9ff463ca2a239aa1a2754afd382075254f3f
'2011-12-31T14:08:25-05:00'
describe
'1553272' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCQ' 'sip-files00007.tif'
25a4905284302e16b2fa210c8ec658c6
c96c08814595b5bcb79c3eae04d89d82e72bbdb6
'2011-12-31T14:09:05-05:00'
describe
'1283' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCR' 'sip-files00007.txt'
7e2b5ae758808b676085ea9f5127f26c
805827604cba5d31be1fb281c2815f0e36286a4e
'2011-12-31T14:10:40-05:00'
describe
'19311' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCS' 'sip-files00007thm.jpg'
47e68b29c4b535ac5d098a5179ccb57f
40f98cd67360021043aa371f4aa202f01cad9335
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCT' 'sip-files00008.jp2'
7c9455b6829122dc10a5823f55170bff
cd5151e5f8b529bfcccbc8b718a25482827e2f09
describe
'160224' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCU' 'sip-files00008.jpg'
2e6d8d2ebac07c2837b7b97c604e1379
cae20e9fe55c48a28b369432ac3852f09a374706
'2011-12-31T14:08:00-05:00'
describe
'52339' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCV' 'sip-files00008.pro'
13010d7ab2d96a8a336df4a10252259c
5e51ef9b098810293ea86d0c646b7f3a935fa7e1
'2011-12-31T14:12:04-05:00'
describe
'58508' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCW' 'sip-files00008.QC.jpg'
aa4fafd7ae1374b88ebfb01c43278329
f2aef727803de704cc16188afc6fe21d5c57d1ea
'2011-12-31T14:10:39-05:00'
describe
'1555564' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCX' 'sip-files00008.tif'
3b41b4cb907a797a2bbd8f00c99ba26e
d13697d1395f1c37765c50358ba6cb4dfb1200a8
describe
'2054' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCY' 'sip-files00008.txt'
8030dac9a4a283635ca4d24750ec96f6
bac2fef754d876a7491986505136e6c2c2fc0a75
describe
'24766' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKCZ' 'sip-files00008thm.jpg'
81a52155fb8802a68d42af26ed8e3ee9
56aa25cda122daf2284da17ede743c160cd0fa8d
'2011-12-31T14:09:50-05:00'
describe
'64192' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDA' 'sip-files00009.jp2'
3a2155f9fea5a7e94e6224738d0620b5
ab93e7aaa5da33fc3d2548e71ea3189275e3afb6
describe
'156086' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDB' 'sip-files00009.jpg'
8c8030c8cd410853ffcae4154aef36be
1a2d16065ce320c333af99f525fbcb526aec838f
'2011-12-31T14:11:21-05:00'
describe
'52022' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDC' 'sip-files00009.pro'
cfc0ca192eed9456c8fb71a366bb3b45
5b04ace1cf04f8145ad77bbfa32b06ab117214e9
'2011-12-31T14:09:58-05:00'
describe
'57791' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDD' 'sip-files00009.QC.jpg'
c4c97eac127e781421265df7cd0ace18
1b1d707b027f3e11f8d75157fc2bbe5f5f97f896
'2011-12-31T14:08:15-05:00'
describe
'1555568' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDE' 'sip-files00009.tif'
9db747362cfc440821fd0aac603b09d9
65e775338f43c12576de55e7fccbfca9213d4a55
'2011-12-31T14:11:02-05:00'
describe
'2055' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDF' 'sip-files00009.txt'
e80f1dfd57eddb093eac8a59852d6859
f6d588ce25446a378897475b2e2161ed2abf95dc
describe
'24508' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDG' 'sip-files00009thm.jpg'
ac1f2aa082b27d1ee8bd43f1263e36ff
4dd1ed6a34acac720515a937189286aef0c50330
'2011-12-31T14:08:38-05:00'
describe
'64286' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDH' 'sip-files00010.jp2'
16b934878e10ba38f47dbd63952f6a60
2808144e416ae281162e042f546739fc3d739d86
'2011-12-31T14:10:10-05:00'
describe
'168310' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDI' 'sip-files00010.jpg'
b4da6dbbf4db6bf2b5da31beaaf24ca9
2caa4b32810bf232bb2794ea0cc990dc587dc693
'2011-12-31T14:09:33-05:00'
describe
'54306' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDJ' 'sip-files00010.pro'
f561d1a73d9b46827eb09518fb067f38
eb8e5c9090a6884038e1b7f740b034cab9662096
'2011-12-31T14:09:19-05:00'
describe
'58814' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDK' 'sip-files00010.QC.jpg'
595334fcd323410404edd37b278ce9dd
cbc9a44029aab621f2a3b65c23c013926b9fe904
describe
'1555324' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDL' 'sip-files00010.tif'
e6e6f3af80647658d2c96c7a7d550ab7
3e13aea9f68b7364e47f76f940fdc1268386cda7
'2011-12-31T14:10:11-05:00'
describe
'2135' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDM' 'sip-files00010.txt'
9be21c2987407c46f5cf907c1b7e6b7f
f54241817d48495fa9faa04b8bad6fc6db38d858
'2011-12-31T14:08:24-05:00'
describe
'24326' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDN' 'sip-files00010thm.jpg'
8836326ff4fabee00de425b3272b867a
6bc48e9d3df2a7c396d11871a3fa35e0c2bfa72f
describe
'64242' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDO' 'sip-files00011.jp2'
d3003ea8b782467ca98c35c92ac97bc7
2fcfb685061156a0ea40769e52203269ffed79a6
describe
'131351' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDP' 'sip-files00011.jpg'
6cbb44c2d586e4616e479ccadaf703c3
8148d91cd2693e896313f606e570b41b04179f5c
'2011-12-31T14:10:02-05:00'
describe
'45328' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDQ' 'sip-files00011.pro'
c691320f0216c7b49850f94fce4c40b8
e52f428f7feb0d5f65607a12fd189e1daf351367
'2011-12-31T14:08:07-05:00'
describe
'52125' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDR' 'sip-files00011.QC.jpg'
327abd11b125b96e8bab23282e225cdc
13c515c30937d14105ed81830039ae2f27f6ab65
'2011-12-31T14:10:28-05:00'
describe
'1554840' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDS' 'sip-files00011.tif'
e98645d8df5d9a404e48eb27ecbccb7e
16945a4c3293c74f2d5fd2bfc0d73cbe6a078c1c
'2011-12-31T14:08:37-05:00'
describe
'1827' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDT' 'sip-files00011.txt'
e736dbf9819be718daeb8ee04ba8446a
c3551ee31c83261ba64a441175a182e4125dd143
'2011-12-31T14:10:19-05:00'
describe
'23044' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDU' 'sip-files00011thm.jpg'
678fadc9f6af5a407b79391e93ce391a
fb124e45bba8dbbcc74b19396b85bbc148f847ae
'2011-12-31T14:08:12-05:00'
describe
'64246' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDV' 'sip-files00012.jp2'
80be83d2a51babb3b508df5de11c45f2
74a14a91dd7ac5cffee58a1e1c38868c400e87c4
'2011-12-31T14:10:36-05:00'
describe
'157611' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDW' 'sip-files00012.jpg'
9fe905ae4f7ea778081bb309a3cdd26d
56053b0d9fec6270df0efab4896c64f975e4b892
'2011-12-31T14:08:16-05:00'
describe
'50173' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDX' 'sip-files00012.pro'
b0119468359f4e7c03320434366aa515
9f7f949a34697afdfbff7c33b7c8507821ebee03
describe
'58406' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDY' 'sip-files00012.QC.jpg'
742dc7779980b5b1a1c077733d96aa71
953653dad7525ffd33df72d8af231009a0bb0a09
'2011-12-31T14:09:29-05:00'
describe
'1555296' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKDZ' 'sip-files00012.tif'
d60dd853be89f7625480375ff0f29c35
5303371dfcb3a7d7533deeb0d0f6f957b2a68217
'2011-12-31T14:10:41-05:00'
describe
'2000' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEA' 'sip-files00012.txt'
a303b0af0120d2dd29eb6c64d6aa1d26
6c31d6c98a82cfbb72edb628e9c342494d54b01a
'2011-12-31T14:08:31-05:00'
describe
'24404' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEB' 'sip-files00012thm.jpg'
6df7c2c263e4c64be24e66360e5c36bb
a6ceec65cc99d6abcb31ebce1d1c707286fafef0
describe
'64272' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEC' 'sip-files00013.jp2'
87ca4f45da27d2bce81e1f552fbcf892
adc94b5d7987bffb1285c1e581a722b410e13e02
describe
'132910' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKED' 'sip-files00013.jpg'
abeb81e2e6d47c332071367881bdcda9
2dcbbd5df97be98ba288496e46b1652063f92cd7
describe
'51825' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEE' 'sip-files00013.pro'
13cfc9e70d5b6117849e3ddc2be673bc
4185114cc78e52dfcd9b2704147c74fb0ef44b28
'2011-12-31T14:09:54-05:00'
describe
'57543' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEF' 'sip-files00013.QC.jpg'
25c1577d41b47d5dc2ad1c95776a1107
fe85f1cd10ed493c753b8f60d221d934036015ef
'2011-12-31T14:10:08-05:00'
describe
'1555400' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEG' 'sip-files00013.tif'
1f25057b75c0d0518db43c7d29f842dc
e66c9e780cce3dae9bfc3d4bd10846c6d842f7e7
'2011-12-31T14:10:58-05:00'
describe
'2075' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEH' 'sip-files00013.txt'
02a523e6ca552c5f2b9563ceb37e3d79
16636b843cf6618a84884e664337b9fe93e4e9b2
'2011-12-31T14:11:52-05:00'
describe
'24414' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEI' 'sip-files00013thm.jpg'
9a13d8976e503d2c06b06287edd5a82b
411952ef19c40f2e5608f33f753dacf9c10b30af
describe
'64265' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEJ' 'sip-files00014.jp2'
ce5b25b457385017f19b26b28272a27f
b7d5d6ae2a719d0d82375c439d3614ae6ad680bf
'2011-12-31T14:09:14-05:00'
describe
'155524' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEK' 'sip-files00014.jpg'
d527cf9708403c9acf1293333e70bcf0
a44bf6f78590242b780e14b56cf22acef9729955
'2011-12-31T14:12:11-05:00'
describe
'54495' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEL' 'sip-files00014.pro'
e53a5bc7a8d2a427c6ef44f99e161877
e564316883d554d2a204a5d10ef9f4bb10a33c11
'2011-12-31T14:09:13-05:00'
describe
'57678' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEM' 'sip-files00014.QC.jpg'
f4a4f7c32cceb7a200899a04b98d33a0
496192fc3c9eb8ac054806519adb943813bc7177
'2011-12-31T14:12:21-05:00'
describe
'1555384' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEN' 'sip-files00014.tif'
95ae34de19492f615c61b9389c67339a
68b511a8f68aaf40749f97d2f5cf5d8e61580bd5
'2011-12-31T14:08:49-05:00'
describe
'2143' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEO' 'sip-files00014.txt'
e4c6affaee37414309fda490dce28802
a1eb6ceb8d2c51da2e349e021cc56cab5e105417
'2011-12-31T14:08:54-05:00'
describe
'24170' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEP' 'sip-files00014thm.jpg'
e7e9d820c220f75cfd79530b71ed52b4
64c5be7a102c00af8dec1133e9f752e22a644789
'2011-12-31T14:09:44-05:00'
describe
'64170' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEQ' 'sip-files00015.jp2'
4ab169902eeda44fc2ebd16f2b8b24c7
e562c940241cac9f17392d99f11219ff1d7d9e93
'2011-12-31T14:11:50-05:00'
describe
'158571' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKER' 'sip-files00015.jpg'
3084cf10f83c702b3fde495e93c4e416
bbb52c4bbac08987183f3ad513da9678fead69f4
describe
'53411' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKES' 'sip-files00015.pro'
d7f8fffca9af357bde42bf15b54f0ec1
6ef4b680cb6392a6bdcfdea5c10e1662d85ced90
'2011-12-31T14:10:48-05:00'
describe
'57829' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKET' 'sip-files00015.QC.jpg'
aaeb63a9d0d6eddd1b22fd0032f0c568
56e2e45669c66bc4c7003fe13af13f650ad63241
'2011-12-31T14:11:38-05:00'
describe
'1555540' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEU' 'sip-files00015.tif'
be534aa3625a7674a1b62818715ecab6
afa99fd42960e80e3dcd51bd89304137d298e581
describe
'2122' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEV' 'sip-files00015.txt'
98109ea66e8f3e80538330af13dfe8cf
b50ea0a732b59eb7f6f37f7dd8b90b37dd248952
'2011-12-31T14:10:16-05:00'
describe
'24370' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEW' 'sip-files00015thm.jpg'
d6288c86498ff4d02044b387e90b5454
21b08b0d43b41e5eb9c56f6de8351cf1e970d5bc
describe
'64212' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEX' 'sip-files00016.jp2'
2b0b68b6819ae054dcff984614581876
fff8784e3e99776122478e1d9085ff952eeff8c6
'2011-12-31T14:11:28-05:00'
describe
'132502' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEY' 'sip-files00016.jpg'
a06d2b2c3d47b3919815249b3803d1f0
8b04e5054120af1c196cd7f421544141f14856c2
describe
'51187' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKEZ' 'sip-files00016.pro'
a56aa7b548dfdb02dc78fa2a93791d0b
a5c79dd116b524ae35cf47b35eed69fe5f68cd1a
'2011-12-31T14:12:15-05:00'
describe
'54107' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFA' 'sip-files00016.QC.jpg'
07ef83bf80c62456342049398575e603
34815d8a976e116044839b896ce5ceb175957308
'2011-12-31T14:11:27-05:00'
describe
'1554960' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFB' 'sip-files00016.tif'
5ae70191d233fe2626b25e203cf089f7
798fd5d1c9826428da2c083895777f4dc3694927
describe
'1999' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFC' 'sip-files00016.txt'
f184f6a85e305543865a1ce7c95c1a06
5ea1dd08f43ddf978fc5e458b60adbcdeec448e4
describe
'23012' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFD' 'sip-files00016thm.jpg'
030f528a024029b70cfde56f086d6391
38d6d35841e7a97e46b0b0024756b55c150f492e
'2011-12-31T14:11:06-05:00'
describe
'64220' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFE' 'sip-files00017.jp2'
c39e84bebcc65b68d4d48ede4e44d336
7dc109d894295cd9933d15007664e08c0579cfd3
describe
'143454' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFF' 'sip-files00017.jpg'
fdc10d0d079d577b94f706db9326b494
3179bdc9e7efcee6820d14f24f5ac0953f72ebab
describe
'46220' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFG' 'sip-files00017.pro'
566d74a92a98a26311a4ba99a0a816d7
f904326f2e63e79f9f1898aa7bfa34eb3f820e56
describe
'52771' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFH' 'sip-files00017.QC.jpg'
26bb1b9ff40702bd8aed319db57abd06
926b9efa19b7d6ab64f0196f3ac68ca7ef8d93b5
describe
'1554792' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFI' 'sip-files00017.tif'
8b59b0fa71b433313f94028fec2e7cbb
6a1653493cb091df802ce1c3b5154cb4a07fe6cf
'2011-12-31T14:11:15-05:00'
describe
'1848' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFJ' 'sip-files00017.txt'
a7fe7ac20536e0911e5ef2eb5037fc36
9b37f19b6f31c9f869a6e87c9526cff861621268
'2011-12-31T14:08:52-05:00'
describe
'22984' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFK' 'sip-files00017thm.jpg'
388df3143407378c3416291173d21f73
19126ddc17533c2a0a8308b40601d183051f22f0
'2011-12-31T14:10:25-05:00'
describe
'64191' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFL' 'sip-files00018.jp2'
0b962e42ba09f5889370fc631bd0526f
3052be1fcb78b79022674b1367d9f9bbfe72d517
'2011-12-31T14:10:43-05:00'
describe
'146639' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFM' 'sip-files00018.jpg'
5377b523d144549db6fc3d06bb175338
32e05dfba78f0ccd9ec28eee863d90a9801b2a80
describe
'53159' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFN' 'sip-files00018.pro'
9951dc941e55e98a37ff2eb8ccf55cbd
9672d0941478ade1dd330b728f2eec4b907c9c5a
describe
'57103' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFO' 'sip-files00018.QC.jpg'
d29bbd2dfad91a834d584eb4f3c42544
aa590e16bb7c119879424c321c9b0fc6f8a0c6ad
'2011-12-31T14:10:01-05:00'
describe
'1555468' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFP' 'sip-files00018.tif'
44fe2f8d73de1a93688bd380c72d1a02
c51747abe660ec6fd812908c57cf7b6b774e0567
'2011-12-31T14:09:41-05:00'
describe
'2107' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFQ' 'sip-files00018.txt'
cb6e305bfb5b4d31f1ad75bb14ffe885
78b5d89a58c2eb242716fb190c3f407da3d5d530
'2011-12-31T14:07:59-05:00'
describe
'24482' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFR' 'sip-files00018thm.jpg'
28ef1767f8311eb0cd18a645ed0babde
ebc1b32de51067abe04fefd91228d50aeb7aeab1
'2011-12-31T14:09:24-05:00'
describe
'64285' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFS' 'sip-files00019.jp2'
839c24abf8e17d9f0018b779aa59408d
2161182ea62aeb838ef7931ba71b31cbfab1fce4
'2011-12-31T14:08:56-05:00'
describe
'172047' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFT' 'sip-files00019.jpg'
7538dfa8be8cdd61395dc841ee0a23df
f5daf22a7b26f49f9c83b0bdb9402147d15d4c58
'2011-12-31T14:08:14-05:00'
describe
'55704' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFU' 'sip-files00019.pro'
b9997d4b022a46554207afd4f4c0a4e8
feadf4bdf212af019688eac01f4107c4adb9b6de
describe
'58237' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFV' 'sip-files00019.QC.jpg'
7ca67ee9b1bffccc707ba1ec865246d5
d96c948b08e45ed14b206736dcdbbef2c9e30a6d
'2011-12-31T14:10:30-05:00'
describe
'1555152' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFW' 'sip-files00019.tif'
c4bdf3ddcee1f7cb2845a31100fcc0bc
85fc0d6895692aab20e046368a2c632e82146587
'2011-12-31T14:11:18-05:00'
describe
'2180' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFX' 'sip-files00019.txt'
7aaba3808d9d8cd129170747ba5f7998
c5add42c8385daee2038645aef96ad57e8603512
'2011-12-31T14:11:24-05:00'
describe
'24153' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFY' 'sip-files00019thm.jpg'
7d61644d4e18054c52a90946e07f53c6
b1134fc52ffef399f3a325cc4a1efe9119f2ca46
'2011-12-31T14:11:58-05:00'
describe
'64292' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKFZ' 'sip-files00020.jp2'
07f2c39b65fc0e4c4a88274d0f6d79db
3b26d7670a6e3710759547f19669abb42258b9a1
'2011-12-31T14:08:27-05:00'
describe
'156356' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGA' 'sip-files00020.jpg'
a88721ac9681f3e1b90a381c2e854171
db14cbfdcc8d76e3bd7984c4a6f3d1ced36c2c73
describe
'54587' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGB' 'sip-files00020.pro'
4f610184a7549283ece27683d774e3a5
85dd6ba645f9bc72f042a24bae673eb6d0193196
'2011-12-31T14:11:16-05:00'
describe
'57258' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGC' 'sip-files00020.QC.jpg'
7e354b8f9b9e0c724a9b874be4b3f57f
f989092c877d5840dec6265f956642733d7ef63c
'2011-12-31T14:08:08-05:00'
describe
'1555284' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGD' 'sip-files00020.tif'
caa23f893bee85ff174cda4b1b6dedce
a6f655c6db77d62c47d05ccfd13f8fa4d2aeca58
'2011-12-31T14:10:07-05:00'
describe
'2141' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGE' 'sip-files00020.txt'
3d771ee8fd69bb99396e99b8a57814f1
c2b38deaebc6035ca74cde9533e1dd27ead8a9a4
describe
'24238' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGF' 'sip-files00020thm.jpg'
939b89ac5170e33209700729ad5a0c08
b7e3d382aaa71e73d93287d8c9af6c756cc165bf
describe
'64274' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGG' 'sip-files00021.jp2'
25f86b7c59fb4e8200718778a9b39e12
cee205c5b72b8422bff0c5a72bca0b8866f613eb
'2011-12-31T14:10:14-05:00'
describe
'144847' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGH' 'sip-files00021.jpg'
360e93cbc39510a8e64f9f641d869e36
9814b3b592f2492be42d0f041b268de48b66266e
describe
'49365' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGI' 'sip-files00021.pro'
7614e21195dac42d1c53f63d010e7958
afe665eb5e1075f87b1fbf75a195b7f3b3f851b3
describe
'54907' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGJ' 'sip-files00021.QC.jpg'
e1adfe101c45ba45c35ccb868aab756b
cbaef1ea2c5c2a28ae63b5d1a0fddfc1b1b525a2
'2011-12-31T14:09:26-05:00'
describe
'1555136' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGK' 'sip-files00021.tif'
731d1c3bef19b183ffa26d62da45a0da
06de0f14a5f04aeb44342d9de6bed33f0e44681b
describe
'1949' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGL' 'sip-files00021.txt'
52999dfb1fb7369e69c5cf19ad1b9909
e296007dde599a49d23253da07aeb05824dbdf18
describe
'23998' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGM' 'sip-files00021thm.jpg'
5b47ed87f612375bc0cc8e0ec2fe2e23
11c21d424a8e39243cdc2a75c27747c0b3d42177
describe
'64267' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGN' 'sip-files00022.jp2'
cfeced53b6f3d668846c563e0f943780
46eac9150b70dd9ae7b9a12d578d5d01818ed0a1
describe
'156724' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGO' 'sip-files00022.jpg'
82c96d8f0d31585ae23475c08b91d60c
55ed9878cf4c1b8bfbcac65b1d7f309eff338cb1
'2011-12-31T14:10:17-05:00'
describe
'55545' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGP' 'sip-files00022.pro'
2f4c88fbc0272ee72a7697b9d97f4d21
82de08f5ee1b0d70394281d3c7027bde87ff9526
'2011-12-31T14:11:36-05:00'
describe
'56125' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGQ' 'sip-files00022.QC.jpg'
6dff76e9bd347af8a28ed8e9d06e42d6
c62903a041610a5ca2f13cdb9ee66ba28cf5aed3
'2011-12-31T14:08:51-05:00'
describe
'1555180' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGR' 'sip-files00022.tif'
5ca6ac80ec4d3862d2f227cc0f850ce9
8e29e01d14ba9720080facf44c058ec3bed179c9
'2011-12-31T14:09:42-05:00'
describe
'2192' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGS' 'sip-files00022.txt'
dc5d591280fc786313fa386e517acc08
38c5faabd31e2d8f0ab3368817e9bfe2b4474cd3
describe
'23822' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGT' 'sip-files00022thm.jpg'
12df539fc185a319f8a7b689c94df875
8b7df852f885a3798aae41e4c9ab231534804178
'2011-12-31T14:08:42-05:00'
describe
'64271' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGU' 'sip-files00023.jp2'
249449d8b88731d440ea1d227bc87288
9c0e717a76ac9757764d1f4fdbd073cedd56e403
'2011-12-31T14:10:21-05:00'
describe
'155413' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGV' 'sip-files00023.jpg'
2eb4e92ad1e85c9d3217d41cc23ec894
479f5edca78d674e1a7fe86899072d75cfb598bc
'2011-12-31T14:09:00-05:00'
describe
'55319' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGW' 'sip-files00023.pro'
e93051bf041b521fad0226e9a3bf46a6
d5d3b07b7c768174a50e75f7372e7a06f0d32a83
'2011-12-31T14:09:10-05:00'
describe
'56770' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGX' 'sip-files00023.QC.jpg'
f8d47777a5d3c4c62fc97d1443f078ba
2ebb119c77d57b44df5a8c23a53219ad55f39850
describe
'1555452' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGY' 'sip-files00023.tif'
0a9ee99648378f456647f64ee5718e84
d800cf696eba80114553159750f425575d30c432
describe
'2201' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKGZ' 'sip-files00023.txt'
f98472b0f7a65e2a2aa1fcb0d1887ab6
1d9402c29082eb56d7c5148c55386465149614aa
'2011-12-31T14:08:22-05:00'
describe
'24063' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHA' 'sip-files00023thm.jpg'
1f3dcab0a585c92c41ab9f2bd88df872
82b443de35d5325197255c6f5daba02aaab1f26c
'2011-12-31T14:10:45-05:00'
describe
'64124' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHB' 'sip-files00024.jp2'
472ed2543529cb302847e20b1d397ffb
3a1aadcf17cd6c6067f53c806a4709cf0362d011
describe
'151966' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHC' 'sip-files00024.jpg'
a6a3aacf4b4eaf2ae49e49ae9e2e1c7b
6cefca5743622f1ac3bd55ea85f29725d36bb7a4
describe
'53672' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHD' 'sip-files00024.pro'
e1c515449f300d01c6e508347154cb9b
5351b421673d3d09b4e9a00cb9637546abafdbc9
describe
'55843' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHE' 'sip-files00024.QC.jpg'
468f0337a7a95109faef0cbee6c7aac5
09873ba78ca29d94ee1c28138e4fa08b78c9a724
describe
'1555556' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHF' 'sip-files00024.tif'
062d9be4bd33b252891fc7539fd26237
5c87ad05f0f15e54bf07a4e040816ec5f7370a16
'2011-12-31T14:12:17-05:00'
describe
'2099' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHG' 'sip-files00024.txt'
55ef765679e24ae59b26b1f1c9bcd42a
8f7c9a99e309be9b7791656723c9378981ce0da8
describe
'24341' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHH' 'sip-files00024thm.jpg'
e19f7e53141bc7c97e78aec83a2fcb39
890257c2d583f19191f5c994ab27d13eb6de4479
'2011-12-31T14:09:53-05:00'
describe
'64097' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHI' 'sip-files00025.jp2'
f0973cd592b73073039819fb819c2bdb
7c836ebfce7b716439f01096bc50cba351dd3f05
describe
'122444' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHJ' 'sip-files00025.jpg'
f4cf5988b8d292a616e02127893f401b
32e348367180cf26909951dcdf4007f00ab482b7
describe
'42901' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHK' 'sip-files00025.pro'
629df68e40819853b9d1b89723b23755
a4fe8143435645cf554eff9bf666c4409e824b77
describe
'46661' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHL' 'sip-files00025.QC.jpg'
37d2def955aa7f9d0a51d83cc0caffe1
334e25d4763115de010f9c62be4022127c1fe8ea
'2011-12-31T14:11:49-05:00'
describe
'1553824' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHM' 'sip-files00025.tif'
2f0f90d1bf9ad06fd9dac4c80b902819
50f5cb11cd4033bdc820d16f4712351bc2d12ee2
'2011-12-31T14:11:22-05:00'
describe
'1708' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHN' 'sip-files00025.txt'
19c810f67ff7e508be9e17f0099b628a
4c2fdb8a1eed541ff57f2be34178d2afd9195e4e
describe
'20653' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHO' 'sip-files00025thm.jpg'
be81dcc322277d2755c43e63d7dab8b3
aaf0b5ebbadc267879b75acf5ccc967c555a6258
describe
'64133' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHP' 'sip-files00026.jp2'
79cff816c4e9519313b614f7fa70efb2
6f053f02da5efb2faa731e02a7e1d566450a47c5
'2011-12-31T14:08:10-05:00'
describe
'134432' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHQ' 'sip-files00026.jpg'
e572e8bfae705e3a6084229dd9493d92
08ca8124fb72f6f2fccf45a31f217cb448711ff2
'2011-12-31T14:12:00-05:00'
describe
'46414' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHR' 'sip-files00026.pro'
552180658f5a7a11d8a9fe4e7fa95f93
282654cfce466072e095fd4212c1e7a5f9aebb12
'2011-12-31T14:08:34-05:00'
describe
'50151' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHS' 'sip-files00026.QC.jpg'
47fddb78c9f0f3e96e56507d910b876d
b840fd916cc52cb280c0d31b9a86e0879b2fe924
'2011-12-31T14:10:54-05:00'
describe
'1554392' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHT' 'sip-files00026.tif'
6e875f31d3f981de9141b3d0b756e12f
8649a717d7c2c93fbd9a57574b142a4d90c6c187
'2011-12-31T14:09:57-05:00'
describe
'1873' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHU' 'sip-files00026.txt'
a43391e91ee01653507efc3279c92fd4
36f634a6c0fac9ad8752196e7312a3ece17a1c7a
'2011-12-31T14:09:47-05:00'
describe
'22170' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHV' 'sip-files00026thm.jpg'
02da84f21d98456beee50b8a05276814
cd19c6a4d4e183e4e237e7cb864838660a5eb5f8
'2011-12-31T14:08:57-05:00'
describe
'64268' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHW' 'sip-files00027.jp2'
1f12726b1df82c668a8030b2eee7f85c
f85d24c07b4abd02cbd5de9af648e5f90dff9222
'2011-12-31T14:10:52-05:00'
describe
'152103' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHX' 'sip-files00027.jpg'
bdf7849d822544f2132e18ec96898e3a
34812a201861e286c0d9ec2e12690f404962eec4
'2011-12-31T14:11:47-05:00'
describe
'53419' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHY' 'sip-files00027.pro'
1c5b0771aa81dd67d0ba672589eb3370
be3f03909ecb9132574e31595db28d0d043cc769
describe
'56251' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKHZ' 'sip-files00027.QC.jpg'
1c4e3b7b9e1b17621901d9c6ab3a23e5
c2614b949597d0aa009e763f88deb837779cf3cb
'2011-12-31T14:11:39-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIA' 'sip-files00027.tif'
d835660a23d6dd3aaaa1fdc996abc7b0
8f84bb74552775983f4b8dfad9ac68e68e45edb1
'2011-12-31T14:10:33-05:00'
describe
'2097' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIB' 'sip-files00027.txt'
e76d91dac18a74e4e10ec809adf28900
80281b57326b68d75cf861136851db9ea8d45e01
describe
'24143' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIC' 'sip-files00027thm.jpg'
b21138825b5eefce903eaec2c5066991
f4c32ef1b07c37276c4d66efca169904404b95da
'2011-12-31T14:10:50-05:00'
describe
'64190' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKID' 'sip-files00028.jp2'
6cc59a6416725d1ddcb4384a0d391622
473bdad67f431c5cd97c10e197e08568e0f12a18
describe
'139644' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIE' 'sip-files00028.jpg'
7c4260d7ea4e51e835e5685d242435ff
12ddd16d525883111b23deeb28d8e98256ec60b2
describe
'55265' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIF' 'sip-files00028.pro'
7dc75a0d833d7e8d20aebb59c76ed926
1c55784dac08ac4b01a87d25a2639a87a7b4605d
describe
'56705' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIG' 'sip-files00028.QC.jpg'
a479db4f0e14fc1c339ded94975ad7d3
09536918eb9c93b45577bd74710e46d3e30d7114
'2011-12-31T14:08:41-05:00'
describe
'1555252' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIH' 'sip-files00028.tif'
780ab2ea1f48680ee6bf5530749ff4e5
ebe715a0c73e8466f0b1c6dbd2cb8c2010cc41ed
describe
'2162' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKII' 'sip-files00028.txt'
39342c4509a44e90319dc24e75ccf320
9ea04951de8b0c91f3b9a4e71c348eed5788be24
'2011-12-31T14:09:17-05:00'
describe
WARNING CODE 'Daitss::Anomaly' Invalid character
'24235' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIJ' 'sip-files00028thm.jpg'
e8e810117c6357806361db34c41fd158
9344a0f0bd62b4ccd2aa85e22ef59523f209189a
'2011-12-31T14:07:58-05:00'
describe
'64182' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIK' 'sip-files00029.jp2'
c66c896bf74a6ea096d8b238bbda3388
23f22e6fa3157c0256a6903671d465d536017d3f
describe
'146373' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIL' 'sip-files00029.jpg'
9744afa61e5dd595344b8777b629abc2
23f78b041c3c067db10ff12beef0cefe4c3957fe
describe
'52307' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIM' 'sip-files00029.pro'
3b96456bf40ee0fd98032a0363187d2a
d7b45452d6238169ad06bbbbe879d8de84a48b06
describe
'55962' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIN' 'sip-files00029.QC.jpg'
bdf2389b5a81641f731e97590d80e299
0c37bab439b43a478ee48aee1384d4f272270d0e
describe
'1555412' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIO' 'sip-files00029.tif'
ddf7954e0d53ce94f1e91964e5b77e54
44834ecde190f8ad632a81e11cf65b503f99c284
describe
'2076' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIP' 'sip-files00029.txt'
bf70818d557ed5225dcab1da9d817c3b
1c8f35a28b17089a542bcbe808470c6a02096abb
describe
'24380' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIQ' 'sip-files00029thm.jpg'
087ceb8d7cddad4ca4daf9a0d4f3fc22
eea6da2aed089aa3cb3c4190e0e60146b8ea225f
'2011-12-31T14:12:03-05:00'
describe
'64193' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIR' 'sip-files00030.jp2'
eedc4a8050ba9fd8bc7fe32d177557f9
9c7c8c1dbe7eafd815f7a18f4501d58b1472893a
describe
'154044' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIS' 'sip-files00030.jpg'
dc0b5be04c15449f0a08ff1822c42cdf
82a89e8982fe4ed1bb9f682f95c65daeae9f50d6
describe
'53999' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIT' 'sip-files00030.pro'
97812a2378415280ca55454a5633bdfe
bb493aeb329c297f0db64a0e9c85502f6aaeaef0
describe
'55776' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIU' 'sip-files00030.QC.jpg'
b26d5e08a40dcf1bd9f51e81ef690976
e78279b576881d3269a0b7ec82b68f7e3c19b89f
'2011-12-31T14:08:48-05:00'
describe
'1555084' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIV' 'sip-files00030.tif'
09cdb47a02fa820d4953f2adc27e2b1e
2a390851c59d5ac03c8e5cd1ae1a09d94bcf23a9
'2011-12-31T14:11:20-05:00'
describe
'2120' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIW' 'sip-files00030.txt'
ce99446ff2c7477e7b6f72edd890b62e
3eb2dde0d6ed9f3302b7806bcc78b18652c691f8
describe
'23781' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIX' 'sip-files00030thm.jpg'
88eb6dc82b68ed1f5c9ffb65158dcad9
8daaa1fc23ee8c3ab13a7c258ae127fb00c7a22a
describe
'64289' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIY' 'sip-files00031.jp2'
deb829e90bd31a15a6ae2f868bce3d2a
e64aad561f5d5b7715fadc49a84d2ec28ceac510
describe
'137846' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKIZ' 'sip-files00031.jpg'
5d97d5652c34a4d07627e616172db636
704ff1ed8ebe6875b2c6c6f539d60d82df976003
'2011-12-31T14:11:44-05:00'
describe
'46747' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJA' 'sip-files00031.pro'
dc26e842e0b8a23995eba15335aef2c7
cfcfe4978ae657dcd97ae7e431a8fa6841244028
describe
'50976' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJB' 'sip-files00031.QC.jpg'
d1983326fab642bef8aa151fa863f65e
6250216914fe2e316d1059072310ddba1786a2b9
'2011-12-31T14:09:43-05:00'
describe
'1554644' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJC' 'sip-files00031.tif'
8ae2cd21f6164ed5d86f012713761b74
182ac93f737ee8920c2adba286e626771d14c2da
describe
'1883' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJD' 'sip-files00031.txt'
21918658c73b193cd56f04bbcc7b6aea
f2e35e9135e85511a806487b806e06ad9462ed82
'2011-12-31T14:12:16-05:00'
describe
'22329' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJE' 'sip-files00031thm.jpg'
fab541faa7ca903ec8e7131e545dc888
8862dd3d9885c4a5618a31c1db7d10f5a5af0757
'2011-12-31T14:12:01-05:00'
describe
'64230' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJF' 'sip-files00032.jp2'
0aab3fee297d51ed25fa4e00bfdd5a69
7da291931f5a7a4637d9d18d4f01ffbc6d8d17c2
'2011-12-31T14:08:11-05:00'
describe
'160460' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJG' 'sip-files00032.jpg'
1198831322be15d7fe002194286103da
406788252b36a9d3f89aa32abd693acb55eede2c
describe
'54720' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJH' 'sip-files00032.pro'
2acc4abd3dcfa724d5a9e1de2b07ad77
e76c2bb29045a5da510d3abc287600de70b3d2b4
'2011-12-31T14:08:05-05:00'
describe
'57251' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJI' 'sip-files00032.QC.jpg'
596e2e39eb671c1ec874f332e0f5018e
e9c42954d2bcea758eb5b7d3aff00d8931e55c31
describe
'1555388' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJJ' 'sip-files00032.tif'
a177875c7a1c5e58d3375812214c734f
392e95c90a71faf01b5870a6e7543dc08cecd237
'2011-12-31T14:10:59-05:00'
describe
'2154' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJK' 'sip-files00032.txt'
c7c920c2e41f74d7583bded8aa1d779b
1d819e3f1aeacf05c656b0d9092e4dd4da208aa7
'2011-12-31T14:11:05-05:00'
describe
'24123' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJL' 'sip-files00032thm.jpg'
d32a1a274ca73861dea45ef3df44898e
98be5e12c33221b8d0a8e813d767aa046cc86d7e
describe
'64203' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJM' 'sip-files00033.jp2'
066bfd132eca9584a3ed8d39afaa9013
0f26a22a497ed9da545f1483ebca4ec60cbb50e6
'2011-12-31T14:08:53-05:00'
describe
'159959' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJN' 'sip-files00033.jpg'
bec0f5679a626e4446a607d718dceb6c
ab5da3d248a38155b98a4590be07c8d0c05f96c6
describe
'53690' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJO' 'sip-files00033.pro'
da50a64bb18a4a96c946343c46d8140a
2913fa92bc47c1246a2c649e4728106277e8decd
describe
'57575' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJP' 'sip-files00033.QC.jpg'
cce117f76052da547faad65b0a455c2f
6cd1689acd1c42385baa55349af27f6695de055a
'2011-12-31T14:12:19-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJQ' 'sip-files00033.tif'
99b2a6167df80888e17a95422e46adba
aa53e7be634d487b54756bce923a1c6480d4fc88
describe
'2182' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJR' 'sip-files00033.txt'
4e0f6288bceceec4c620679d0b1d2ae3
3eb48799e2841a92e0d22cb70b2b9fb572b1a2c1
describe
'24394' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJS' 'sip-files00033thm.jpg'
ba53379714ce52ea7ed9aadeea55cc60
c5e28b1ffbda2a149beee71e417ec457b1d783f7
describe
'64236' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJT' 'sip-files00034.jp2'
228b136debe953b3f51e291d78d91a15
d8acae1aae53099835d9b5bcd7e7aa8c39e92755
'2011-12-31T14:08:13-05:00'
describe
'156750' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJU' 'sip-files00034.jpg'
4e71411f7d4973d41dad61eeb1cc38b2
7e0f3a73e8a0f2f57a18af9276b812f555565230
describe
'55662' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJV' 'sip-files00034.pro'
548c1560c1faae03ef0ec0e340e95ad7
b642f705c91e96195779f7b764dbcb78a14453b7
'2011-12-31T14:12:08-05:00'
describe
'56199' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJW' 'sip-files00034.QC.jpg'
0b3c7dda23fe0c2a72c36afec4d1bb56
73c3a4fdc6b209f68d4385506923d3a261586f90
'2011-12-31T14:10:44-05:00'
describe
'1555160' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJX' 'sip-files00034.tif'
cad2c8dbf888b99fb1aef08271c283cd
1827c7e24f57e694bdaf0c348eb17eabf3b4f0f5
describe
'2186' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJY' 'sip-files00034.txt'
c4b147f93f36820ae204996e3da00432
62497b9803d441a64d37035ae6a8d2a246e1dfa8
describe
'23843' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKJZ' 'sip-files00034thm.jpg'
1a525f82782b80b0bd7dd2158508b3d6
cb6067af19fe30edbf0a6215ed17bfc7c63e67ad
'2011-12-31T14:10:20-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKA' 'sip-files00035.jp2'
7154583ae555b10607f5cfb49e842f14
66147f4da4364e29054159f88995134b03d87797
'2011-12-31T14:10:27-05:00'
describe
'146049' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKB' 'sip-files00035.jpg'
ec78631914ed74b88ed823ff961737ab
9f0ff72ecfd5bf7ea34ddf7b9dcc378676d3aed5
'2011-12-31T14:08:09-05:00'
describe
'49194' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKC' 'sip-files00035.pro'
beb1eef467f0cb23fafeea78e949e6f0
92d228ec7c24cea20bf442b7b7176e90b76fc8e4
describe
'54134' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKD' 'sip-files00035.QC.jpg'
e291e641f9373989275da4e2bf5b95c4
f94407bcdb4ff9c107ba58a519df06481d940bc4
describe
'1555248' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKE' 'sip-files00035.tif'
40de24363b1ccb2bd73901433323afe0
e9d550001b4e9ac0793ce9a503a161e1e6be37d1
'2011-12-31T14:11:51-05:00'
describe
'1948' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKF' 'sip-files00035.txt'
3b189658d5367fdfc46e20cb8ad8cf39
54f5dd6c22b0093ebe52cddbf7b65450b851e01d
'2011-12-31T14:10:34-05:00'
describe
Invalid character
'23559' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKG' 'sip-files00035thm.jpg'
1698ff0089b4addbcea9f72a92bbf3e5
11e8a2c5e11047087fe93a7f918a940bdaf13565
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKH' 'sip-files00036.jp2'
25f65cb032dfef14fa8f4bb14f84b7bc
a00874bf069e9290018eb3b94e7b9fd626c56da8
'2011-12-31T14:10:15-05:00'
describe
'137860' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKI' 'sip-files00036.jpg'
d49b3dbb369e66435c9cffd2d3c5b97d
2c31c87762f159cf51d697e96c9fb9fc842f9b79
'2011-12-31T14:09:23-05:00'
describe
'46018' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKJ' 'sip-files00036.pro'
0e893901f4d3e2f916d49625e34cbc53
ca15366f35bee0153ee604329bda5ae7cbdac586
describe
'55235' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKK' 'sip-files00036.QC.jpg'
1ba5dc63c52e92201194d13586417b13
a4aef21c234893cb0b22d638a47ba0d6ae0b9926
describe
'1555256' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKL' 'sip-files00036.tif'
c4a7a8e9ddfeb912e18ba0662c73d925
75227bf40c51b1d16fe70dfe392c714599ab2cd4
describe
'1859' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKM' 'sip-files00036.txt'
ab5c7ab0af05bdcc3f4416f43af49ead
d4bf5cba5f8969fafe42af3bf2ff263db691a6c7
'2011-12-31T14:10:37-05:00'
describe
'23701' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKN' 'sip-files00036thm.jpg'
1b99cc412b6ea34accac334b29c6de90
c8573f01eed479581e8ace8bdc5952ec68a93039
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKO' 'sip-files00037.jp2'
0e8af878bca712ad430a5211c318429f
78b1fbabfc6caa65aad503671d2c1b5a54f9d013
'2011-12-31T14:09:48-05:00'
describe
'142440' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKP' 'sip-files00037.jpg'
dce8ca7a4c171c9ad5ca823b47802220
2d72334386c3bf57d3348929c1e4a2743ab28643
describe
'51813' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKQ' 'sip-files00037.pro'
0a8505dbb6e3efdad49a7a82ef252b47
35fd66353141baa081e4351e5f3db799e5720393
'2011-12-31T14:10:35-05:00'
describe
'55439' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKR' 'sip-files00037.QC.jpg'
e7d27316294dcba8c23f8b79f0d3250b
07790b7595a4a94debec0f7fb3780a6fe1c39b20
describe
'1555124' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKS' 'sip-files00037.tif'
6b88233dbdbc0281df5b1db98a3a873b
5d4cceb8847340560bcba3f732c3f43ecd6ad084
describe
'2024' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKT' 'sip-files00037.txt'
32f2fad26b7c7d80a97550f362d31c35
f8703b749a33e46f98ee5eb6b5f47b5286563b66
'2011-12-31T14:11:33-05:00'
describe
'23720' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKU' 'sip-files00037thm.jpg'
eedce3892c2e5285a38f5413bad3dfdc
7e24ff3d610c3a742a32486bf2bec6df12266054
'2011-12-31T14:08:28-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKV' 'sip-files00038.jp2'
5eaeebd5e11e80d4442ee8b1d40059f6
984626475a59c7ad6bfab2a335f8ebfd47dcdbc7
describe
'124015' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKW' 'sip-files00038.jpg'
e8de9e732f1e3bae22ab8364c8ad96c2
020159d83fbe78ece7dad1950ddec05c2a710f42
describe
'43678' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKX' 'sip-files00038.pro'
6b9b56e19a12189eef6f25813e0bb823
19c18852656e6b53fff1b453e102e1132fcae023
'2011-12-31T14:11:55-05:00'
describe
'50115' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKY' 'sip-files00038.QC.jpg'
74ee9e754f626daf976ee9f281d520a0
b2eb1447c046d03d6efb951cad8c09cc324b600d
'2011-12-31T14:10:57-05:00'
describe
'1554620' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKKZ' 'sip-files00038.tif'
a6bab135732d8781fc55387f7f94da4d
b9a5c2e8e3bbebec54b95e5da02cf320b2e80eda
'2011-12-31T14:08:02-05:00'
describe
'1762' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLA' 'sip-files00038.txt'
a59c62e49708b5c94bb0548a99345a26
8607e42ef8df2e57af48ee703e6bd4ec79b702ac
describe
'22634' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLB' 'sip-files00038thm.jpg'
bf5e4291d19ff8b60480674812035b94
6ae96e419627a853753e6d3906e5624bbefc9077
describe
'64063' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLC' 'sip-files00039.jp2'
8d1c333b68f5a75931f137e0637c18ae
63f3ebf46e61cc49e0636a90767f018b4cd5cbdc
describe
'168685' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLD' 'sip-files00039.jpg'
0db8d3414a7cb18426fd6be493382f26
36f9745ed05c1a56799fc98a4fce2d10fed6f348
describe
'56278' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLE' 'sip-files00039.pro'
7939e734be1d8f1323989cf701df6efd
64975398218dea88f4bf00ea54bdbad8ef3bb506
describe
'58784' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLF' 'sip-files00039.QC.jpg'
ea426dc6d0d9e1fbd8c0de844f9f66cc
23e758a294d57afb60a119efc8d02a6f11b0aa38
describe
'1555600' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLG' 'sip-files00039.tif'
2ee4df85b9e5126b10063f95bb7b6c26
4b10fec8b1c0569ba61f5668e1cd3c688ce9bb1f
describe
'2214' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLH' 'sip-files00039.txt'
fef687ca5af94394c70df345e8c42360
80c54d56571ae52166a9a40ebebac96c943a5ece
'2011-12-31T14:08:46-05:00'
describe
'24846' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLI' 'sip-files00039thm.jpg'
5c8169e174795e41fd81032bf0d8aaef
256ebee48e519b6e4c1c2f0798685a906644c267
'2011-12-31T14:11:34-05:00'
describe
'64218' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLJ' 'sip-files00040.jp2'
d2a1177fbba1b51390c6a1e8bfdec21b
d1a874491a04788d5510bc5d5caf097d9aa8e5a6
'2011-12-31T14:11:43-05:00'
describe
'156981' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLK' 'sip-files00040.jpg'
95e24d9520502a601944f543b1b8df9c
445c0139440407df1b70fcf10355a9bfae6e0f23
'2011-12-31T14:11:48-05:00'
describe
'55016' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLL' 'sip-files00040.pro'
206d9b6066fb76e06c1f8a3646ebfe22
2620ba2db8e6e820a48a4ca8e78d753dded30e14
'2011-12-31T14:10:51-05:00'
describe
'58349' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLM' 'sip-files00040.QC.jpg'
b44fd4cec9cb79707d38c9324fc3b639
47f573301be18b81d82ce47f942303164aa57661
describe
'1555684' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLN' 'sip-files00040.tif'
2e200cb91bb6a39565c6714cd8c20ca3
050cac9ccfd6acea0fcd2cb7d7cdad55dc447cb2
describe
'2148' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLO' 'sip-files00040.txt'
cf52e740393053e5f91840624855b744
35b6509d0af386d4e4824d053eeac60c6165a691
describe
'25044' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLP' 'sip-files00040thm.jpg'
99dbd9ab2985c59289ec61aeccb425db
efcdf299b7f8c98171a4d6355e88be620ecf0022
'2011-12-31T14:09:01-05:00'
describe
'64051' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLQ' 'sip-files00041.jp2'
cc4a84778031d1fc759d1775c9a985ab
91f30ff0809d4b7bfbdb5d0510f8ce6515026eb5
describe
'170178' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLR' 'sip-files00041.jpg'
caa43c273d453aa4397127bc4c1ff0c2
e6c7903fc951d8979605152efa17d1b06f81af4d
'2011-12-31T14:09:34-05:00'
describe
'58009' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLS' 'sip-files00041.pro'
3d5b9497b6f7011949c4774a5e924586
a8644be3d7c89d14b80d6f07133624bcd2c5d52e
'2011-12-31T14:11:31-05:00'
describe
'56899' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLT' 'sip-files00041.QC.jpg'
355afd50824390359c5987d92f699358
d2c96ab09eccb80fa544ea958b36acf50edbce5d
describe
'1555484' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLU' 'sip-files00041.tif'
c1e8d30c4bdf97d4ae1a2b003cf1efe2
9d33bcc6a9bc27d57982e9db35a2d40c64c29998
'2011-12-31T14:09:39-05:00'
describe
'2310' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLV' 'sip-files00041.txt'
1ded773956110950133e2008fb8fb647
8040bad212b17b70ace20ca624430cc414f31b7a
describe
'24464' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLW' 'sip-files00041thm.jpg'
d2fb1a876af2b8587e258ae4bfba19d3
bb2ef8bfc626f508ed6510dc1be8ca6f854b7459
describe
'64221' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLX' 'sip-files00042.jp2'
8bf0e5be5146c1d2eb321704ab3d5119
48daf3edf6bd35eb0ce8763090f636a0e422a3f4
describe
'169945' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLY' 'sip-files00042.jpg'
84f8885be65864eff7e186b78ed78c4e
e2437615698dbbabdad956dfaa9d7f55521378c5
'2011-12-31T14:11:37-05:00'
describe
'56017' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKLZ' 'sip-files00042.pro'
752f6d34ca4af313b2e702e14b4c6ced
adbc54725e7566a72a0204b1a8f957b67b97e016
describe
'57716' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMA' 'sip-files00042.QC.jpg'
e78812acca8701f85fc160ce63cdb31f
9bc28798c75bb6412c3e354f84a624eda2778176
'2011-12-31T14:11:59-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMB' 'sip-files00042.tif'
b126fd632c8f1b1f3e442fe8fcc1eeb6
f8e156385aafc55fa85574271f87529969cfb314
'2011-12-31T14:09:15-05:00'
describe
'2181' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMC' 'sip-files00042.txt'
8273ffd7ff8aa53bda67912ea53ffbaf
c7968ef8e2db35549be163d13d03d33e72cd100a
describe
'24545' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMD' 'sip-files00042thm.jpg'
b66437bd0be9571857ae5b1389e6c1b3
e185b136435eb603b00882a3edc3cf700c38998b
'2011-12-31T14:09:35-05:00'
describe
'64187' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKME' 'sip-files00043.jp2'
f97744c597c4a330f2b0bd94486ccb44
0cec9db756e9d670f5b2685d3c64520941fb651b
describe
'168311' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMF' 'sip-files00043.jpg'
2d5a634025885ca52456056c10cb5642
dff9f9e2ff5e81c4addeaaeee8e3810f59faa03f
'2011-12-31T14:10:00-05:00'
describe
'55955' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMG' 'sip-files00043.pro'
da517ce63b60eeb5c6cb984c07d2ee9b
69374ed65e1d442f258fb59adb721ab1c4624c1c
'2011-12-31T14:11:01-05:00'
describe
'58995' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMH' 'sip-files00043.QC.jpg'
f05da729db18f614ed8e1fdf2a0914a7
f0a038ca58fbdcfb649756ba49ec148ddc326e8e
describe
'1555476' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMI' 'sip-files00043.tif'
ab360dcddb9a95f7a8bd0639cd03beef
537329d060abe0d87db2a8a05f222603b6873be9
describe
'2188' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMJ' 'sip-files00043.txt'
4f5e0da608261e0ab4d701454a08bc76
08da9652b977d8d4ea39ee878e85b12f8ce08c2e
describe
'24689' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMK' 'sip-files00043thm.jpg'
f6b2f9dbca88456a1e7f418de2adfd49
2662ec98fa9a9c7bf1779f5d98a080dad4440a98
describe
'64263' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKML' 'sip-files00044.jp2'
10efd0d02948d48459a0497d65a6f3bd
c4c9f111d586c5f9ca37a7e92638579ed0829381
describe
'171983' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMM' 'sip-files00044.jpg'
64ef74cfdcc225d6a040829a220c27e2
cbdb0d8b3f836820ce94c000bb048aa391cb6b86
describe
'54735' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMN' 'sip-files00044.pro'
f6c04bbe8b334c6fdedf0ab220b85ca8
a344f041b238219028b190a6e95b21b33fc9b1a9
'2011-12-31T14:10:47-05:00'
describe
'59929' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMO' 'sip-files00044.QC.jpg'
c46656af135f16cdeea910133b2b9b39
2739d362f4d00b9808f3d0226c781ce34ca16f0a
'2011-12-31T14:10:04-05:00'
describe
'1555480' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMP' 'sip-files00044.tif'
b45d4d5e43b3f2078874bb478b3579db
90af25c7f818b06e5f5becf0d5c3e7a85963e73e
'2011-12-31T14:11:14-05:00'
describe
'2184' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMQ' 'sip-files00044.txt'
4eaf20f5a38c750ccc334c5615790993
da86f00d58514d2ebd538833d98de815ff16a20d
'2011-12-31T14:08:01-05:00'
describe
'24805' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMR' 'sip-files00044thm.jpg'
8a7c76ce7f8ffd6851484c1dc14a9e61
571df107cf2061aee66f1c1b7262eb2329daa199
describe
'64195' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMS' 'sip-files00045.jp2'
74dfa3006b89c5bef3c762a17fd2328f
87d59569d639181a6d035ad6c1bfb4e29f1bbbc0
describe
'139821' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMT' 'sip-files00045.jpg'
1fcf1b538fb2757396ad5e388385d2a3
48472f609a157a2965a7847517af0b99cc14fbf7
'2011-12-31T14:09:55-05:00'
describe
'43585' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMU' 'sip-files00045.pro'
6d815d1e272e92c2629103f20803a96b
acbcd6442f9506dbf5e7f47ffa6d6bcb5a26e8bf
'2011-12-31T14:11:42-05:00'
describe
'51965' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMV' 'sip-files00045.QC.jpg'
d3766cbfa228d199cc2dc2d2c6001bc6
0e8552fb3f1a997e51a1cfac19bda590263580a0
describe
'1554652' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMW' 'sip-files00045.tif'
405b747162fb63a8e91b5c68ab0ee0f8
b416eb544c06bc82f7720f7408a276fdacea5155
'2011-12-31T14:11:35-05:00'
describe
'1751' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMX' 'sip-files00045.txt'
0f7f362ac205923765f5f032d0319639
6b6fa49519f0d7b324c8e29eb84571455db5c61e
describe
'22730' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMY' 'sip-files00045thm.jpg'
b6ab784db0774aa7419d07130d7df0fe
8d18a19c0783d9558cb4cbdd667da787130b9c90
describe
'64132' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKMZ' 'sip-files00046.jp2'
267780407d8fee4e3c605e60c33d305e
f40bd8ab8e72b0a7ae0ab306baf16d436ac31653
describe
'162677' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNA' 'sip-files00046.jpg'
86de55bc263676a474677aa99c94778d
a445e75ac314e40b2655d91197407f381e1aa492
describe
'55995' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNB' 'sip-files00046.pro'
f08ee08fbaac8d9ec2f28bf573f3ee94
5a076b9008ec5873833bf6b748c042129ea7a311
'2011-12-31T14:10:18-05:00'
describe
'59577' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNC' 'sip-files00046.QC.jpg'
8748e932dba481e0701f934d4bc122a9
37fa4f3ac95452a9d4c3552718d989bcbda5f76b
describe
'1555424' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKND' 'sip-files00046.tif'
6919ea661cb8a1d8f4570395e9884b9d
ab16720ca22012e5827bab56e597c075b9021be0
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNE' 'sip-files00046.txt'
7e0530cd00efcb1de926a88d1b03e56f
aa4e839296327dbc4ea0bfcd483609f7677de39c
describe
'24587' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNF' 'sip-files00046thm.jpg'
80692d9b2e78597d75604a642d408d3e
dead024e789b2132214bc9a606095ec5a5c560e8
'2011-12-31T14:09:46-05:00'
describe
'64148' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNG' 'sip-files00047.jp2'
ff33dbba8e4154d8d3872808196ca787
8ab87b82a3a4c98dc764b7198365893e146ce879
describe
'147393' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNH' 'sip-files00047.jpg'
a4f054880d3ade7312ebd7d7bed02f33
22cdd78b6ba8bcfeb2dd823395833a7163389748
describe
'51237' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNI' 'sip-files00047.pro'
31f3437be356daae4e1130988df0f5be
917926e12ffcd4f106924f99e548cbef29d59b6b
'2011-12-31T14:10:53-05:00'
describe
'57344' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNJ' 'sip-files00047.QC.jpg'
28de00d3782de764fa204e40fcd22349
fc9eab05cd8c4c0979c4fd95fce797f8f8267627
'2011-12-31T14:08:17-05:00'
describe
'1555420' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNK' 'sip-files00047.tif'
b29fdf29ed770941f629bd6f958d9308
a8d420d50a7b5c69528c39f49b965f8c258f22b5
describe
'2011' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNL' 'sip-files00047.txt'
147971c8cd0999162f57afc63bfb9243
2aa101c86868b19ff58f3c3948c3970647a2f2b5
'2011-12-31T14:09:51-05:00'
describe
'24318' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNM' 'sip-files00047thm.jpg'
b191bf319ccf701afeda919d99ea9b20
0e12097881e926af1a45ee0795d96762a56919ee
'2011-12-31T14:09:38-05:00'
describe
'64251' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNN' 'sip-files00048.jp2'
e6eb5f46b0e76f6176313e663634876c
ed21e35e56fbcea833e4a6c0fdfedb0404b23f1d
describe
'173850' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNO' 'sip-files00048.jpg'
095c696bbe2cdcb7c3763cb3a68e660c
40653b0e0b1b7a4a2e7c95d5144a5c7282b746c2
'2011-12-31T14:12:14-05:00'
describe
'54797' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNP' 'sip-files00048.pro'
4a75e2525a9704046509f54287bdcd31
00d5620bc281b316e8fb30edeb44cbc6566791f4
describe
'58868' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNQ' 'sip-files00048.QC.jpg'
cc45c4d55f4080e24be6e264fc89e8df
1cad2fab93b426e389f4efe60e54484ef0209c59
describe
'1555736' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNR' 'sip-files00048.tif'
ccd3ceb67d9c7795546030e26e2ed1d6
31ce80e89465dec18f5db48fb957934e0238985b
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNS' 'sip-files00048.txt'
b1cd56e3c2301a3d785f7f839e600139
ccb1109eb69df1389cd69c3fe1bbb7bd350898c7
describe
'25153' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNT' 'sip-files00048thm.jpg'
5101825f41852dbd2ee4e2720bc0fe80
b816f8391cdac5da0cc7baa169eeb0af81477662
'2011-12-31T14:08:50-05:00'
describe
'64281' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNU' 'sip-files00049.jp2'
60a7552f181d7788cb60076a57c27a3d
1d7fbb4d4552c4cee1b154eb3c988e7d86550cc0
'2011-12-31T14:08:21-05:00'
describe
'141899' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNV' 'sip-files00049.jpg'
fb17aea71016af728288ce2b05032472
a07f948a63a2d212fed508e261045295a5582299
describe
'45312' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNW' 'sip-files00049.pro'
34e6cff17054f6f3745c3f7e50818f8b
d7059b8570a49fef337c80f0fc2adc22847b41aa
describe
'52480' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNX' 'sip-files00049.QC.jpg'
d09d62bfb5f09ee63a4e125bab7dddeb
7cfa3bcea0cd38c5da58d90633c1e565d778c991
describe
'1554980' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNY' 'sip-files00049.tif'
92d6546a07e8735e244fa588f4f7ce0b
2bb380961c841474a41f81d60524c3804fc9e26e
describe
'1816' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKNZ' 'sip-files00049.txt'
c3eb15c5b6eae2c76546f3eb3dc9239b
d5e0decb00edc23c8645f886eb9104c131884382
describe
'23295' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOA' 'sip-files00049thm.jpg'
1b62dbe02f13403e26b7a03c83568e4e
747c97a02c98325788785e6928db17a925b84041
describe
'64225' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOB' 'sip-files00050.jp2'
939f248249aa75b2d1e25a0129f042c7
264991d1721ca8dc4141d314a464c5a5427e756e
describe
'159964' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOC' 'sip-files00050.jpg'
5c754584eee105a11d3c6502b1484211
828e18ef3413b02ded38791dbb58b0b52e824217
describe
'51902' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOD' 'sip-files00050.pro'
ceb1bbb34b5cb188379d5eb6e6ab2bc0
f67bd6ece285fadfe48afb239d7aa8e6e2417fcd
describe
'56139' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOE' 'sip-files00050.QC.jpg'
ec507b3a9d5b6e8099a04615754b7f91
0d9793eda6c79e9b99115878c08f6bc70c174e3d
describe
'1555624' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOF' 'sip-files00050.tif'
c172bd6cd7e29cc124834cd190ad3d8e
6130592594a5804be38558d1a0dec35a4b4ed011
'2011-12-31T14:08:29-05:00'
describe
'2066' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOG' 'sip-files00050.txt'
2de478d729dc08ae72f1e965f9c91e1f
c733a8dee50880c4e8f1a34f56eecc3614a57bf0
describe
'24615' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOH' 'sip-files00050thm.jpg'
dae9b6b5ff25f3efcc3c581d4116a942
deaf694707f9610f9c779e30201b14b59f9662ae
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOI' 'sip-files00051.jp2'
6893927e79c38ce247411f0c269f3ad2
3b2bfa199c3855397ee82b829ee42c301b6729c9
describe
'146153' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOJ' 'sip-files00051.jpg'
7b83183715bdae8899715c5915df712b
9fe09e0800551a46488590af128fb7e85cbf7a5a
describe
'50609' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOK' 'sip-files00051.pro'
5e3c925997bfc16f2886ef9300902dd7
82192acb7065c28e566a7ad9b946c2c197e24f57
'2011-12-31T14:09:28-05:00'
describe
'56910' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOL' 'sip-files00051.QC.jpg'
1fc00a1999b1d42177142651f7a2b637
6f0da300cadd97637d1871f87dca95dafbb453a8
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOM' 'sip-files00051.tif'
1525c77682875798786e822674e57284
b77ee5ca9543631222d1d33aa8bbdbd0de08e99f
describe
'1985' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKON' 'sip-files00051.txt'
ad33e4fa5a0fd539314842705a9ec10f
e07a8cd73532b685fcb91e9350837a9405a783dd
describe
'24817' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOO' 'sip-files00051thm.jpg'
0e00e6bb6dc25016b67183d0953ee342
97825025293b0390365140892847071efde94bd4
describe
'64227' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOP' 'sip-files00052.jp2'
86c5322348eea34f88d47be375b15434
09907af5746c6b26b74a1f773e9fec493d4c72eb
describe
'146475' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOQ' 'sip-files00052.jpg'
a1c21708012af6db5ff854c1219ea443
fed89c8127f7b6afbdf952cc58585489687d299c
describe
'50326' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOR' 'sip-files00052.pro'
f7e2dcfb2c1e19ac569a07a5473ca1cf
7c2ce3f8897cd9e71ffe54c65711f77881003d01
describe
'57476' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOS' 'sip-files00052.QC.jpg'
9684808a8daa93c57cf0aefe0d316d36
245d6a8b04b860c3c7bb5eb07575d59370c96fcf
'2011-12-31T14:12:13-05:00'
describe
'1555448' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOT' 'sip-files00052.tif'
0b33eeb7aa0934f8cdbb7ba28877ddd4
3fa7d3eb26765376b257894b5f44380f52021f68
describe
'2004' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOU' 'sip-files00052.txt'
865449488ecab6ac7dff263e196c23da
57acbc801857a1b66279f63e2edbc5691822c66b
'2011-12-31T14:10:26-05:00'
describe
'24413' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOV' 'sip-files00052thm.jpg'
89087b521992ea0b7bbcdcd11bf01af0
7f7075084138e2cc5aa5619cb731bae4c4c07e02
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOW' 'sip-files00053.jp2'
575a72ebe64a378eb8b9e208756f5c46
088d73f51306edec6c27b31ba47cefdbd6777c8e
'2011-12-31T14:12:18-05:00'
describe
'166307' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOX' 'sip-files00053.jpg'
c086a0e78e2520fc965925fae9eaee66
3fd50525decf1939486103aa03d6ea9c80cbfd1c
describe
'53847' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOY' 'sip-files00053.pro'
d12fcf9430c9171becb6e7093010a51a
e3c152ed3aec6117348bde61923193bbcb1dd9b6
describe
'57141' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKOZ' 'sip-files00053.QC.jpg'
987cbc4701139e9aa0f88ea70950e3dd
3c2e79ef8de4d47ce1745bd9e61c2b33834b7b05
'2011-12-31T14:09:08-05:00'
describe
'1555504' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPA' 'sip-files00053.tif'
f060af0ecffa48b907ba0bbf6b4af84b
d5631390db438161c8603062667759e959136ebb
describe
'2123' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPB' 'sip-files00053.txt'
45fe8d6119903df4d3be0db23c7d9284
a09c52480004aa68b906a57c9df379fefe2001c3
describe
'24707' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPC' 'sip-files00053thm.jpg'
e78a574608981bed8c663e6e92333e91
11af7a6dcce3948ad260807417ad51fd73e2249e
describe
'64113' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPD' 'sip-files00054.jp2'
af5fec5e18b1d552cba32f8411e1d7e8
9634ad24038558aceb37982faa6cb00fc4cba639
describe
'169638' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPE' 'sip-files00054.jpg'
8cfe0a26fcd0d50e6657e786a9a87f3a
e1acf08eac6af7409a7a2e38fb38880ea1e69c08
describe
'56486' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPF' 'sip-files00054.pro'
8bc975aa6c2e71be7fc736b64537ed6a
ba09da62e9f64c9a3b40e936d408ee913e36ee9c
describe
'57007' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPG' 'sip-files00054.QC.jpg'
ab194bbdeffbecaa6e6f37e148d61abf
d5f867ebfa6447ca9655df50f9aba48063f0ed09
describe
'1555156' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPH' 'sip-files00054.tif'
1114e274058e2538044217fdb96a041b
2c5cbdbad1011b1b6e6c58a6deccd342a04a3075
describe
'2194' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPI' 'sip-files00054.txt'
095ce71cb6051d5870e30ccfdb1cebf8
2d8df03265d599f85f4d46585cc7052b1454c73e
'2011-12-31T14:11:10-05:00'
describe
'23899' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPJ' 'sip-files00054thm.jpg'
7aea717a3e2c8e2cf8aeac3412d62154
6502f69b29a21fde75a15128dac87711fb186ab5
describe
'64249' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPK' 'sip-files00055.jp2'
3b371ad9232d1cc5557a83d5f186f166
890b207ceead97530ed2a8882e6433d7c8c87981
'2011-12-31T14:11:07-05:00'
describe
'152886' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPL' 'sip-files00055.jpg'
eea2e63739519e5a9474c59b1c456e14
8a9a14eba6ba461ea986d7ab55b8de2ab4c76e3c
describe
'49516' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPM' 'sip-files00055.pro'
4891c5a4e584663de7a2355d76b4eab9
ef7d9075e21d3acaa30d236fb6ce647659e030ca
describe
'57257' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPN' 'sip-files00055.QC.jpg'
2cef30157a47fa88410bc1a7059537d1
b58a1e9643fa13cdac07a73ebe682ca9e78b8135
describe
'1555332' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPO' 'sip-files00055.tif'
e07ba35b96784b557e7fafa0485e4975
0b940dee939604c949746fca3518a19a88afc6db
describe
'1964' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPP' 'sip-files00055.txt'
5dfcd362f42db72e06409653b44c5fdc
843111c0699285911908453b4b01d6c8a2bd7578
describe
'24312' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPQ' 'sip-files00055thm.jpg'
3e30a053bcccbb391e2e0fa837bda2d4
0588164d5abf2fff59ce07b6c21446043871e546
describe
'64204' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPR' 'sip-files00056.jp2'
2c7a81bf64f2d6926ac8e66c0c58fd7d
be54ef23e1696a72f2c0887e7394aea821d05595
describe
'148904' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPS' 'sip-files00056.jpg'
fff33fd7bf3bbbb3bc60670243cf081d
c70449709a728f1f47d7e330176b33e369310a5b
describe
'53249' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPT' 'sip-files00056.pro'
eb410a89153dd33eb31dcb41a741da32
6021020a3c96f7ecdd83049157a98c1df11f2768
describe
'58503' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPU' 'sip-files00056.QC.jpg'
07e4826b82b4e2194d267ed2647accb8
a14d942b69d86adfba2788649bb9c22acc02b466
'2011-12-31T14:11:41-05:00'
describe
'1555552' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPV' 'sip-files00056.tif'
ecd8219f2ca9954bc232eae93f33675f
efaa569246e1edf21e12aaa9dbabb42783d47511
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPW' 'sip-files00056.txt'
d95a02f9055b72a53c2c86d925c297ba
150ce2fce04baee1f4410a17a6342c0292c7833c
describe
'24835' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPX' 'sip-files00056thm.jpg'
7e5663bc1ed1cf212948a545b9bac03e
4d5dcf5d35d057dc119f347071a54038470b2086
'2011-12-31T14:11:08-05:00'
describe
'64183' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPY' 'sip-files00057.jp2'
586a8e70b254616d913948f7b8581c31
3f6d49ee2610d39ed6e63b48e89f75fd3ceb5080
describe
'146041' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKPZ' 'sip-files00057.jpg'
e092b0f375b547b218d031bbd2d59be4
7d26e3fd1be7076b943913a60ea316d9f4e95d0d
describe
'46221' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQA' 'sip-files00057.pro'
2f2ef44ee871cbaa7f29cf571f7ba841
cbfffc675e6e9f5e6373dc898593789e7586da14
'2011-12-31T14:08:44-05:00'
describe
'52769' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQB' 'sip-files00057.QC.jpg'
89cb2b9bbb1866e10f17bd7335ef54eb
67cf853598557255203562d2cb99600b5bca1bfd
describe
'1554628' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQC' 'sip-files00057.tif'
88caf9d1f559586bbccf2d356c4ace9b
e3c92e5c3b8ceb7c6d1fd3ecb239c92b2709b672
describe
'1850' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQD' 'sip-files00057.txt'
7fb65e9fd399535e59cd67756262d637
76a78ce7e7942c12976cddcde27bcfb8eae996ab
describe
'22913' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQE' 'sip-files00057thm.jpg'
397466f3a789beec3e517d955e7c7202
b3196793831e4dd120c71119a48fb81605ba27d4
describe
'64261' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQF' 'sip-files00058.jp2'
da22243bc04e34425cbaa6ff4271b573
0fefe9a6120c6b24809f707e1fa7b15eaa715f6c
describe
'156237' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQG' 'sip-files00058.jpg'
6dbbe42b00be901ab668a8201520e004
93254d393ff6d641747c923362f6521a30473f91
describe
'56330' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQH' 'sip-files00058.pro'
d34c4aa83289c9bccf7ac11f03cecbc6
ffe9b0b74d36a53ab9ae8bc39ff928bbddaa426a
'2011-12-31T14:08:06-05:00'
describe
'57240' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQI' 'sip-files00058.QC.jpg'
42b54b62c7ab1402bcea1853d2dc0eaf
d13651360523d971bb72a2d0d628b1298d198086
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQJ' 'sip-filesadv1.jp2'
f95004a9de7ba332ac888d285e614442
5fb551c5061eb5d1ccc633c881fac1c4a69aad0c
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQK' 'sip-files00058.tif'
fb61ab255d0884db2446a78b77f19c60
7f4eed2caab591939d08d461b2c6356594d71ac3
describe
'2213' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQL' 'sip-files00058.txt'
c622345fbbbb5561472423e1f5ddccd1
056cfc0efa993b23efa53292df98c345621bbf46
'2011-12-31T14:09:12-05:00'
describe
'24036' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQM' 'sip-files00058thm.jpg'
3668109242b29055fe7b319c62e3d371
d49dca1ba937408a4eecc3bc98e2b0302bf1ccf3
describe
'64287' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQN' 'sip-files00059.jp2'
8f1f206f599f183337e73aa643eced3f
45d070f36030b92885d25e4f2ff7d3772c10d4fc
describe
'134845' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQO' 'sip-files00059.jpg'
5ce83831f24a487aea056a8437591c84
28e6854e303b33f097bdd6d8d274c7c0c21a9c2d
'2011-12-31T14:11:53-05:00'
describe
'45634' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQP' 'sip-files00059.pro'
25c8e44a6ea267a255dde7b6782f2bb0
873a29feb64f69cb4d890a5b2c00bb786fdecb4f
describe
'53675' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQQ' 'sip-files00059.QC.jpg'
5d6ddd7f009a76c0119adfa613c6976d
f5d2acafe4982ece629d2b11ea06feb2a91d2ba4
describe
'1555144' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQR' 'sip-files00059.tif'
0dcfe4b6afe70c7922f34b31a53acbc4
24f68dfa00c7978e71795f0ca20325e423dd9dbf
'2011-12-31T14:11:40-05:00'
describe
'1815' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQS' 'sip-files00059.txt'
e0163884943c5c4a951475f7735a0023
52a9e0739f594ce20feb8b0c072332d77a4a421e
describe
'23672' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQT' 'sip-files00059thm.jpg'
b00a08a6e4f9de53ef40d5ce4fe26bd5
7f9d08d3146d0a02d9c3f88f0aaa0107d317acc7
describe
'64247' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQU' 'sip-files00060.jp2'
1946c0f98bc0ec30bc39ea8363fc150b
2c36495a9e1ce4d3639163b0153b667c201e098c
describe
'151306' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQV' 'sip-files00060.jpg'
4b64a89421a442f6d38bec868b0510d3
aa9aeed7eab2acfe8a34c7f695bb13cab770d2a4
describe
'51346' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQW' 'sip-files00060.pro'
063a6995f21c2f8b82a835a8461bce60
2ba398acbe312f2846e8ed4c62b0277838e57f06
describe
'53992' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQX' 'sip-files00060.QC.jpg'
4e2481f1a772cfa99e64bd0595e386f3
ba7eff8f6b7d4f9e86764ef9c592ad5617b1eac8
'2011-12-31T14:12:20-05:00'
describe
'1555216' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQY' 'sip-files00060.tif'
a3bfe48c7f15be8cfc198fdaeb759969
935c18cb47104b23b2155b4eace192d924b3b7f4
describe
'2021' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKQZ' 'sip-files00060.txt'
8d68ad9ec854001a7fd43248bceb322a
7d11392ede4602b2f67b32284fb6be800f90bfa0
describe
'23992' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRA' 'sip-files00060thm.jpg'
a42ea25179ef1b95689e30c3f9408fe8
2984c3d128e0cdbe02e8d09ea1472dbb1d8fe0a9
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRB' 'sip-files00061.jp2'
f3cbc4562ac1be73539b6e31b215b9f4
0b7adfb74cb3e29efff7f05bc497f1b9d6606391
'2011-12-31T14:10:24-05:00'
describe
'162070' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRC' 'sip-files00061.jpg'
69dc69c5481e2f5bcec5007991efaacb
a0400d5d59ce44bd1548f3a68eefb8938221c332
'2011-12-31T14:09:22-05:00'
describe
'51949' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRD' 'sip-files00061.pro'
ac696c18f8cfd38c54a25856fb55d230
5528f71ad0adcffa0140b5777a831e8b0c4c1254
describe
'56290' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRE' 'sip-files00061.QC.jpg'
c8b04c117d773ab6635e288f82c4954a
9ab69faae546b2f3670173ecf7e8fbe1031b5ecf
describe
'1555536' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRF' 'sip-files00061.tif'
6361607f0808c7f013ba1bc5c2787314
c5690d33ede04b704cf0c01b9ba70fb0ec60fad1
describe
'2047' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRG' 'sip-files00061.txt'
5095e6a22390a32b656aef62d570456e
0e178995e9c74bec3621a9f3e3683c3fd167d04f
describe
'24393' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRH' 'sip-files00061thm.jpg'
0e883e7eb26905f1f0442f32570984e1
0d57eafb1d4da519fb9e6919a053da79a4c8deb3
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRI' 'sip-files00062.jp2'
a9f1028445bd6d005e8696bc9e8af9d5
fb7a7c1d1789612877586ab8a406720213f9e391
describe
'155191' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRJ' 'sip-files00062.jpg'
949e5fe9b79c56c9cf515bc6c054d9ad
8a0b762aaf5e6865859038304ab73a7332698a4d
describe
'54040' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRK' 'sip-files00062.pro'
61723b761ff2de2f740efb71bc0b3c32
633809fbd1a7037c72b748224fae137d4e498ebc
describe
'58794' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRL' 'sip-files00062.QC.jpg'
1d1b310c0aa8996ebd3fe6cce6ea5266
a0dbd972557110c5bbe9050e53159e75402fd149
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRM' 'sip-files00062.tif'
d60f95985f3b0898b5bff5b08bb4c1bc
3b68738e1d81d4910b9e774f822cd2e2c118229f
'2011-12-31T14:10:49-05:00'
describe
'2136' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRN' 'sip-files00062.txt'
892a63a2ac7d3c86b749e77ef9e083be
045164e76a6c6ffde006f8e0232a8ffc465aa53d
describe
Invalid character
'24345' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRO' 'sip-files00062thm.jpg'
acceb491b00c452f43c6b944c29ede6e
b345d17b651cf0e7f2eefa31cd745950d4c024a6
describe
'64284' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRP' 'sip-files00063.jp2'
fb2db078a70e82ca95abfe0c5ea460cd
49d7816b252e5d2e0e4cd51593273b047d43105d
describe
'113456' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRQ' 'sip-files00063.jpg'
77119c9d72cbc283f3fabd97e39b158c
94f6b81552cb4c01cca673469845480f3ec1318d
describe
'36230' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRR' 'sip-files00063.pro'
9d559b3c080895f9574f113075dd9af4
f2ac0a767923693d641a07dcacf7de087cdc0a71
describe
'43872' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRS' 'sip-files00063.QC.jpg'
f9a645a982a6d5602bf0a03b7fc88194
5970fa06b6ca8220a215bebbcf60e8e0b89971a5
describe
'1553928' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRT' 'sip-files00063.tif'
209c15658b18ab42a6b337f97d434597
7bdb922bf30126c9e1912edde120376081d274a3
describe
'1435' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRU' 'sip-files00063.txt'
825abe4a0b6c67894debc3eee346c316
4b4565de07cca9bfa2a0b255da1563de89d1bd6d
'2011-12-31T14:09:06-05:00'
describe
'20789' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRV' 'sip-files00063thm.jpg'
0e6784473583eb8749affb2093b8ebe9
96152c5c739b298ed3954095bc5ae2ff1a851d50
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRW' 'sip-files00064.jp2'
d0358f8519406ac95f45226619d66de8
19cc53f4c76d651e05e116e06575adb7922d5560
describe
'137610' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRX' 'sip-files00064.jpg'
777c5bb5b86d8f27ad5af74cc4fceccd
e9ce1f5380902dac5593e7b2fda2d857df805e2f
describe
'42653' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRY' 'sip-files00064.pro'
02f28e58e2fe46677582b67aae46efd5
a513c6c13a5d29cdba3881e0235d049310c0ca7c
describe
'48416' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKRZ' 'sip-files00064.QC.jpg'
865d5aef6ab009ba7bb1f91005079fd8
9364545861917094a608feb7af8fbd968cf077c4
describe
'1554548' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSA' 'sip-files00064.tif'
ca646820a5af6eb118e8c56c0d8b5a9f
375b220229303573ca69f497d2a0a368d1139725
describe
'1727' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSB' 'sip-files00064.txt'
971d2e64021ec56540400c6fb636f3a4
9c4879af07a4d0b838c21b57116523297998f122
describe
'22219' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSC' 'sip-files00064thm.jpg'
e6825791b9dd14658b08c2e9efaf6df4
d15c4115c4d4f7bffd6d58d87b7d38ca78984d2b
describe
'64155' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSD' 'sip-files00065.jp2'
42aaf5ebeb41b150ab8de23330259353
9912919a6165efcc8c580d8144cb0696b3c3e0a5
describe
'166707' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSE' 'sip-files00065.jpg'
13d13f3fa7c1e1b0ce7e124247583f31
a312ebeaa4df1dc4512b472ce557bf909a1254a0
describe
'53944' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSF' 'sip-files00065.pro'
32cfa79f508557ffd3e612b6e261dbc3
3180e3d39a0765b2a7bf07f03dc5044dfd60bfc2
'2011-12-31T14:10:12-05:00'
describe
'58608' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSG' 'sip-files00065.QC.jpg'
6efc08cdd5a514b37846424af754eaee
9bda12934801d56487411609165d2fa14106eae1
describe
'1555200' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSH' 'sip-files00065.tif'
c88a8cadc06ae315a503f3ee87fc834d
26d13fb453d76d6309c24f9b4c60928aae76f977
describe
'2121' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSI' 'sip-files00065.txt'
c4daf56c836d6bd94578a40324315c1f
bfdc5fe93896a2d91e25c5a0fe381496a1c06418
describe
'24225' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSJ' 'sip-files00065thm.jpg'
be85e9cff481f28814b7f165379f1566
65323cf8d6284aca57b47460718317f922a7ddd2
describe
'64071' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSK' 'sip-files00066.jp2'
c81f3ee7e3f958f63ad63c73fc005919
d0dfdb63f820fb9ac4baa33b73f31c4842ed18e4
describe
'156493' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSL' 'sip-files00066.jpg'
6f7e0e930dd296b2047bc937c3119826
1c1c06a6898dbfff85b2c2bab72b63dd6feb0050
describe
'52418' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSM' 'sip-files00066.pro'
9d98a9b2881aacf895cde4a547475a86
777fcd1209c013154df6e79f9801665f7450c1d0
'2011-12-31T14:09:21-05:00'
describe
'57861' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSN' 'sip-files00066.QC.jpg'
222add096345be86f6ba66c2a4a0f44a
be905f7b0dbab93d8dcc0d42bede4b3dba553d74
describe
'1555456' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSO' 'sip-files00066.tif'
2484f066f106cc27d375f41b53510506
6816806626301792cdabfae94f855320989ccbb2
describe
'2050' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSP' 'sip-files00066.txt'
e8a9d92aec5f88fac30e4fa1deff1b0c
5e56144c0f6b83fa15c89f6ed40ba10be5a72503
'2011-12-31T14:09:40-05:00'
describe
'24594' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSQ' 'sip-files00066thm.jpg'
6e01fcabf57f806c640db06506158dd0
c1c1071cdabaf1adb2161f2ecca171efa5751a63
describe
'64057' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSR' 'sip-files00067.jp2'
23d96445bb795bfb9885fe6ace1ab2a5
fe25622201e4fa2155143091420b6ed15a4028c2
describe
'154605' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSS' 'sip-files00067.jpg'
71892935213ed3d0aece7ffd76af96b8
1cfa18707d51d2e327d3d1c876ca095bf4375e6a
describe
'52423' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKST' 'sip-files00067.pro'
9424954ec674efc678054f9051201b0f
cf153b8e6292d7c125e6efb25c555b87faf01038
describe
'57002' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSU' 'sip-files00067.QC.jpg'
ff3d4f0f5979bb5b1db4d8d42f385d5f
02cbd14d25e3de7880b0a24ca568010f972cbf68
describe
'1555276' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSV' 'sip-files00067.tif'
300f632a4ac4e5e43717a87273f6e9c3
b5248c5596b258fc41347ca8b7742c2a64d3e830
'2011-12-31T14:07:57-05:00'
describe
'2060' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSW' 'sip-files00067.txt'
aaac3c85144fa3381d89458be30ce935
09b9e650b3a0ef8d0d74c970e3901c55c0d31d63
describe
'24387' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSX' 'sip-files00067thm.jpg'
a18929019211ffaaa48ca5ec01818ca9
9112d3f3194cd9134d43022dfe42a8f2caf05a20
'2011-12-31T14:11:00-05:00'
describe
'64215' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSY' 'sip-files00068.jp2'
2820bea7942508a74edd6631ea6bfa08
bc40d63291a9be3d98b53a686fa5aa205b0f7de6
describe
'159314' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKSZ' 'sip-files00068.jpg'
83b376f35227b2e547ff6b603851de5d
83c59e72617beb2302973d87bab63626793409ad
'2011-12-31T14:10:42-05:00'
describe
'53640' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTA' 'sip-files00068.pro'
76a42b0c908046da47ef4f1f5a0c0e13
e74b87069da9bb42d55197ef9463f4f653efa458
describe
'57228' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTB' 'sip-files00068.QC.jpg'
1f4016acb3f5eb29d62660ba31a29846
a1a1dd390ac972fcc2adf58ba40be25864caf24a
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTC' 'sip-files00068.tif'
0a8c55e0bff619047ea07f23f0428d21
6387d4555379ce3817fb9af5eedaea6584696208
describe
'2105' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTD' 'sip-files00068.txt'
9dafab5c42e4d0eeba486a37e5611b22
7ab956af8d9b49204a7cf8f1ff7a47f81b3a0392
describe
'23922' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTE' 'sip-files00068thm.jpg'
33f947dc7c2b8adf72f319f49dca2896
5d761415f49f2edb93eda823fd8730c77f4c5908
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTF' 'sip-files00069.jp2'
b21fb635d5d24fa938b06c3605c0cea1
53b3d9bd41d03c65ed3195dbcd5d8c895fb7fc09
describe
'158916' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTG' 'sip-files00069.jpg'
502e0042606ca52720fd1cf30d96375c
a024e65622832a9bfe0001fc4f7cb280c489afdd
describe
'54925' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTH' 'sip-files00069.pro'
5d9cab8d871fe6edf5971a6e902253b5
f1edf6bc37670c6538588a1cd22d42846b3b5d68
describe
'58146' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTI' 'sip-files00069.QC.jpg'
c46adb8699b8d735bc9b03591d8f76f0
acc97032ddc881c3c3e016ad9ed88f001675ec41
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTJ' 'sip-files00069.tif'
f8b6fc9545fd0a767162aadc98c93902
7c486f16058fbdf14fa8fb6006e211bc9a8c03bf
'2011-12-31T14:08:45-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTK' 'sip-files00069.txt'
c97c2174331d241ccfa1dfff9361f736
e0255b6043a1677661bff93622e715b8a1a1b6c1
describe
'24447' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTL' 'sip-files00069thm.jpg'
1b3eb206bc0f6dc4cc68897d3b97eb5f
2d245dfd86841ff9c06a76be4f4ce893ab1516c1
describe
'64107' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTM' 'sip-files00070.jp2'
f4fcef476b5b188aee867123f0e46f3b
5074cd415e5a0588c37a961277a6ef27fc4af35d
describe
'136266' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTN' 'sip-files00070.jpg'
be3755849336bb31a876177f21e86767
bcf77fce58035708f2a9319db1999438b5531564
describe
'43419' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTO' 'sip-files00070.pro'
11b014831462b6cd6bb8e2f13378c02e
dcfe2eb9fa132de301cd68fe7779bc7014644da0
describe
'51407' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTP' 'sip-files00070.QC.jpg'
9c59da46e3c4f27c5d1656d39a572cbd
a912cc227cfb10d7d0bd0fca1d2a0c3b149c5f71
'2011-12-31T14:11:26-05:00'
describe
'1554600' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTQ' 'sip-files00070.tif'
52c8599af2ca61fc8de02cf9800d98ad
1f4454ff3731e033073aa6230eb5124d5bd5087e
describe
'1748' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTR' 'sip-files00070.txt'
9553adbaba38de1d8b15db6109c50a85
8da812d18b75f013b1679aa1a0b03d1bbb01943e
describe
'22547' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTS' 'sip-files00070thm.jpg'
2983eab4817b341b7179cf06d3896f2b
50937dff408c59248fc034285ddf57e3a863107b
describe
'64222' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTT' 'sip-files00071.jp2'
7a90cd9d1809c70298ee61954cadbe32
470d665a64d37688eef9b053724363fccfcfc59f
describe
'158540' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTU' 'sip-files00071.jpg'
56ae82ea5af5ceb27aada60a87d88142
17679e0be99bb68b91c1c6832b6b13f6b3fa3c1b
describe
'54347' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTV' 'sip-files00071.pro'
87cc46f631145c46851d9b8ae4c63e66
27e872ce84ba29c59b19bb6e1470a75290a5a65e
describe
'58831' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTW' 'sip-files00071.QC.jpg'
f3a132556f0f48d5c58c4c026e761cc4
02fdaa51d237bf2600b6c4da2865d905937a111e
describe
'1555580' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTX' 'sip-files00071.tif'
403e63cc2a4e9ea6ad209de267bb1a3f
a5ca79de7e122e06088b4a39ecb72713b196eed9
describe
'2142' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTY' 'sip-files00071.txt'
9746c440420ef330eebbf4df69a35bd8
44789eb6b2b9e54f9fc012acf1d3555886760e8a
describe
'24705' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKTZ' 'sip-files00071thm.jpg'
6cbf4f309fa2cbde7d66402ce0653a96
86ab747a886aa21b379df120587c501d83d72daf
'2011-12-31T14:09:30-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUA' 'sip-files00072.jp2'
b3cff1cc2dcd13688e352c98beb1e2f5
0933e6237e32ae6d2c8c942b39ae7a39796eb48e
describe
'153589' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUB' 'sip-files00072.jpg'
f1e1c0d1cd12b2f9e5b890e32f9358ee
f8225e9b40ecf595ef1536ea38b4e48f268464e1
'2011-12-31T14:11:54-05:00'
describe
'49116' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUC' 'sip-files00072.pro'
adb8f223a88aee764a4192ed0d148609
24d0d85406508ff39cd4dcf3854368dd5715e62f
describe
'56970' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUD' 'sip-files00072.QC.jpg'
d2176b35c34456638534c17ad49fedf3
eb82de4feb8b915e8f170bfe028f8f4924172f8f
describe
'1555304' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUE' 'sip-files00072.tif'
08a3ee000a6227a75751aca65cae8b35
805eea51760d9d01293ae4e1e0eaddfa3edecc60
describe
'1933' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUF' 'sip-files00072.txt'
6c2c6eab3d04033e71ab2d7baf8beee8
3ab48ee18e5fbb61760a6bd05d520cc84c9904f2
describe
'24181' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUG' 'sip-files00072thm.jpg'
39f09201b9d3125881d21ebca8f81a47
c200e251b4380cedd1b00fc2eec33d45235c15ca
describe
'64090' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUH' 'sip-files00073.jp2'
b6f60510a69121897199d8703df8d22d
e731c1bd5f3d44296b4db70575f7ca5f3cf33cbd
describe
'147300' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUI' 'sip-files00073.jpg'
f9444ccba4ebc4bb704bbb03f18cadaf
41375c970eb20389d7601fa811025cd7115776dc
describe
'52768' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUJ' 'sip-files00073.pro'
64ea806adc3b9e00cf98aea33964c8cb
b4bcd4fc2908cb94f92135a32916d99a70a475f2
describe
'57609' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUK' 'sip-files00073.QC.jpg'
b8d7a460a414f2f52e1403a6deb14b9f
7398941e63c90a8707270b1a94a8065ccca79921
describe
'1555656' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUL' 'sip-files00073.tif'
a91a9bf7d55497048b119fc4866e8143
b808c1488b3714f4f7292922d64318ad7be186cc
describe
'2074' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUM' 'sip-files00073.txt'
d8ef9e04ca115e979768f51eabfe7499
482ed40414daa89730a0c066db03d2dbca4bba7c
describe
'24618' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUN' 'sip-files00073thm.jpg'
1a91766dc9b9317b9d905ef34bbec4a1
d2125105aa94b6bca6239bc1fdb99f73f40d367a
describe
'64178' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUO' 'sip-files00074.jp2'
77b09cbbf45c3c0734ff8e0e005ab574
7dc4a5a13b6c741a44b832e4ea67418c8275319e
describe
'172320' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUP' 'sip-files00074.jpg'
291d3a03e876db76233184a95ce6a600
dbfb21aa3539c71e36a684cfc9798d786ce0fc81
describe
'56366' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUQ' 'sip-files00074.pro'
3de936fd6bbfc26e9c2b21b2c56f95d8
b95c3e72b123793af8ede5d01f79a43b8f324b31
'2011-12-31T14:11:46-05:00'
describe
'58528' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUR' 'sip-files00074.QC.jpg'
60ca118b88dad4aeb49bcb27bde4c05e
f70693624e6456954da1954c53182a3a90a216b8
describe
'1555368' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUS' 'sip-files00074.tif'
a742a376a891ca14be24f1266f60ac25
140ca1fa70b7207bb1883e9439686852db557ca6
'2011-12-31T14:09:32-05:00'
describe
'2196' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUT' 'sip-files00074.txt'
d252b032e9f911c771fdb554e5977a2a
ae68fa8a6c6f2b5eeaf7c80a1ba9cfa651507067
'2011-12-31T14:09:11-05:00'
describe
'24306' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUU' 'sip-files00074thm.jpg'
c7634b39830b56ac4292a93e68c78044
c86edca7e358f9bd29729a838c01751c527c6c09
describe
'64116' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUV' 'sip-files00075.jp2'
c3cd15ea42e08d2fd377171d57c02e9d
5e4d81cf300391dc377a7c386dafef1a86be5a60
describe
'163443' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUW' 'sip-files00075.jpg'
7f1aee842beeb96a21c9046b12b151ef
97bb2b60aab89e71075f2f038289f38480316c88
describe
'56264' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUX' 'sip-files00075.pro'
804c05d7ff262d9db7727be0a765c4f4
242304b572fe8e35e004a6e8e885a53781f2d156
describe
'58096' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUY' 'sip-files00075.QC.jpg'
a2e1e64da68fc958421f2e49433d7e0c
7a22404935404b2d9bd96f55cb0469fba1db3d5c
'2011-12-31T14:10:29-05:00'
describe
'1555392' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKUZ' 'sip-files00075.tif'
7e6ad7ff658e3d18eff412054ffe2b99
9809ebcf54286cc5fdf53dcffab9675aa3d1ac8f
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVA' 'sip-files00075.txt'
443300b772005b6a844789f457f14a86
aff79b67c0ea044fec0fbaea775697e3746c6f73
describe
'24503' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVB' 'sip-files00075thm.jpg'
580ffdff80c8f9023a2697ad6c8838fe
f32c573afe8bd638633f5cf00c69e0b1af7ebcf9
describe
'64163' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVC' 'sip-files00076.jp2'
c615b0dd0b06bd1d40f2d35a0a0e24f4
7302de4b8dbb38e03f2ae40e25f20308405f8bee
describe
'140792' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVD' 'sip-files00076.jpg'
2efe766d3f3d27be2d63f16299ede988
7a0893ce4678f0d3da690b1e0742d4b966bd3154
describe
'55621' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVE' 'sip-files00076.pro'
2ce59a9403ad844950244b230660b58e
ad25653629ab449657b657a1ab1623ecfb238709
describe
'58166' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVF' 'sip-files00076.QC.jpg'
5271b298b26d0b9d1c0d0e921aa1cb94
1a3ff933d8912293f10e15bb715bff675dbeafb1
describe
'1555380' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVG' 'sip-files00076.tif'
ea1c37bc868ed7d1af56a9ed985d0bdf
76ecd045cc3d3c00ff49ad3cf18c206248a6f039
describe
'2167' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVH' 'sip-files00076.txt'
37e7050b0abc51059bdcb94af8698dc6
1a3b599a1d4b97f8d83fc657844e96ce8784828c
describe
'24473' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVI' 'sip-files00076thm.jpg'
fbc93cb56985412cec5aaf8c3cca1f73
09d7a9205e72ec7b911433588c8c14f0170801ee
'2011-12-31T14:08:39-05:00'
describe
'64179' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVJ' 'sip-files00077.jp2'
cb343349de15daad50e42d7098c49bc5
fed9b47be561ad09673b31eeba46030b6b19a6bf
describe
'134745' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVK' 'sip-files00077.jpg'
db364bb14df0738909d690a9f653d846
fb29370b66b0077ea16647eabe53c0d92a9386b7
describe
'44928' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVL' 'sip-files00077.pro'
73297e369461ff377c0fa6aea6f808ec
1e566fa3fffb725c50de63cebe16a44924fc1fe4
'2011-12-31T14:12:02-05:00'
describe
'48865' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVM' 'sip-files00077.QC.jpg'
7e50e3f18a49afa52ecc36a2317fbd4c
c246a0e94a92997478b3ac2e186879142cf57d40
describe
'1554268' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVN' 'sip-files00077.tif'
7efd66215be3ae2aa557e78c90aedba4
f535ba0f2c502b96d65d6e9ec1947d446bf16120
describe
'1804' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVO' 'sip-files00077.txt'
aed3310d34f94d1eb16f856074e89f06
49c80d89b2a96777b0c3fdfbaabfffec0351b472
describe
'21998' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVP' 'sip-files00077thm.jpg'
e688cef98b2067ce3e12e87737d20eb8
bc9fa2fc44d3b28620fdd91a4f2da5cae5af0c33
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVQ' 'sip-files00078.jp2'
e460d6d8d1f3330ceecb4e0038daf8cd
d1e528f028c5f0de2ecb8e88ebce9af900ad4f11
describe
'155617' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVR' 'sip-files00078.jpg'
2aeb98b0a16b8e267c9e06a01aadc432
b698ed5c3b8de13f197404b548463687f2844a2b
describe
'54385' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVS' 'sip-files00078.pro'
014eed6eb10f16bf8bea9f0ead60b79a
e067674aefdea9f415e7a4173c278362017340ae
describe
'56828' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVT' 'sip-files00078.QC.jpg'
e2256b44f2753c567ba6edd97dd1f3a0
9452cd41d557953b5775568d113f036e31905c5a
'2011-12-31T14:11:29-05:00'
describe
'1555076' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVU' 'sip-files00078.tif'
150ed08945bae183a2f7405a1057342f
982636f6b4097df314d195c5ab706454d5a79a80
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVV' 'sip-files00078.txt'
ec605457e8e048beb9e22d05ae8b231e
8a83d797478ed0a130cdaab017a1cf4e3a690244
describe
'23834' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVW' 'sip-files00078thm.jpg'
37df9471ba64c605de68d84016e75931
c301ad788fda31d675c13d1063c48dfc0501a299
describe
'64169' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVX' 'sip-files00079.jp2'
c79592588f80aafed3907f6a83661dd9
3ce62091f305607c011d4779dac58411ec136d82
describe
'162767' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVY' 'sip-files00079.jpg'
50a760bbaaf2a14e4e6237d658dbd256
08146ca2e9a37d38f36c48997a51e43f8c84532a
describe
'52612' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKVZ' 'sip-files00079.pro'
1a908d106e6668f9162eb1d739b37a39
b016c9e71326ef643ce15c27ddab439ed32a3bc7
'2011-12-31T14:08:58-05:00'
describe
'54455' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWA' 'sip-files00079.QC.jpg'
3ce120a48932bb2d2a9af115c8be1dfe
5f3ae745aa4b2e78cf458b6d805804e801d054ac
'2011-12-31T14:09:18-05:00'
describe
'1555264' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWB' 'sip-files00079.tif'
da516f2a86b5eabb3759fa80cf59f105
c7153c0ca83c9755a6081213b3771280c6ea9aa4
'2011-12-31T14:09:36-05:00'
describe
'2084' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWC' 'sip-files00079.txt'
fe3424235f8fbc0d4eba5c13b7a6c572
f247e787e827c859a8d192f6b216272b2c34bd35
describe
'23940' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWD' 'sip-files00079thm.jpg'
459816eebee5f2b705eb62b4e12bd304
46c346ef77efd49555562a4d6917b0a209eb4226
'2011-12-31T14:08:32-05:00'
describe
'64228' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWE' 'sip-files00080.jp2'
f9d4948eb04bf31a4f3436eb9b620bf3
a6679447c6eefba83d2c83e525904b5ce51f5196
describe
'159144' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWF' 'sip-files00080.jpg'
b6096e533907f0cb5b4176a7542dc2dc
5ac53ca881cd50aaacf0064f75d3559d53d9a346
describe
'51649' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWG' 'sip-files00080.pro'
5a7d1e13c388c343648a83558477d621
bb83f0ef63011d6c267b938150df5fdfe579e32c
describe
'53499' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWH' 'sip-files00080.QC.jpg'
6010bca51a933cfe1ba00eca3f946858
964108d8d0d2bb8ba8d1d7ab1bb3593760141f68
describe
'1555172' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWI' 'sip-files00080.tif'
6864652705e3e66e79f3943d40b37acc
ba999840ffed52f89ee01a7a3fdbacf41e9f07f8
describe
'2028' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWJ' 'sip-files00080.txt'
ef2d9ef10828baa2186e6868bae708fc
b34079fd55ad1774a50384c3a589c6ce766638e5
describe
'23896' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWK' 'sip-files00080thm.jpg'
172a9148a0e00acc7f7ef2e4fdc8b7ef
2503ff46463090f67f5636b68fdca7f0d18dce6d
describe
'64121' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWL' 'sip-files00081.jp2'
94fe677ea2e2b054196c7dba874a8072
6f6ce24a501936d78da0cff2fbc1e41baba032d4
describe
'167500' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWM' 'sip-files00081.jpg'
9fabd5225fd736935888325efeb61a48
31d467a18954f0e6ddd44c546dd091f6856bcff6
describe
'54992' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWN' 'sip-files00081.pro'
24ab5001eeebec3891532c111a7ad287
4fe58428f55dbc87394ec47fa66071f6d5b9a5bf
describe
'58229' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWO' 'sip-files00081.QC.jpg'
0985d567744bbb1359f2ddd284fc82d9
1c7099c8636839b9509ff2ed4df2a7fc7d65531a
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWP' 'sip-files00081.tif'
4b43ddb763a47a67726fc905712ea902
052efec6db95856867ac245b45ec0fd37a4ca8b3
describe
'2147' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWQ' 'sip-files00081.txt'
b6da1c339ce8619c4145fc79489ffb70
1a1274d6da848ffa7d956095a6e3a3014b9e6ac5
describe
'24479' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWR' 'sip-files00081thm.jpg'
84881c76d31d4148ff2fcbffcb4d1178
b7660b6af347e8b40fa42794a782ec8acfb94088
describe
'64161' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWS' 'sip-files00082.jp2'
15887a70533cf1dcc4e73fa0d586aeb4
5f93e3f6ffd644c14c8f376b698868b5fad92d27
describe
'137404' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWT' 'sip-files00082.jpg'
6ab80ad2c991aff9de25f33f840574d9
75cbb1b72a0dd9c9eb6be642400320f7b6349d96
describe
'54320' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWU' 'sip-files00082.pro'
598ad1d464a187e97f66f52cb0309fce
30e14886d3ec6e4749a3855b210d95e615f5d940
describe
'56763' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWV' 'sip-files00082.QC.jpg'
7d2cb2f7792f70be6c9e6418a00abd0c
08ffba736a5c841616d4f4705ce80895e6faa291
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWW' 'sip-files00082.tif'
d35a1195911b8d0ef43a32d6342c97c1
7a5ebeb4809dd12fc0a5a2453af61842c6bf203e
describe
'2129' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWX' 'sip-files00082.txt'
b1ade0e26d5347df45bde879816b0444
f0aef18b0300d31f93af465842af9cb6639fe327
describe
'24232' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWY' 'sip-files00082thm.jpg'
d6962cf8d934f90c4d545a5e5210a80a
c12f4fbdcc326a137240e6835607b5598a2c10f3
describe
'64066' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKWZ' 'sip-files00083.jp2'
69db9c7fe8cd70335510e7323f351c83
5dc728fe8620618b11c28d2b5d9a24471538e49f
describe
'120027' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXA' 'sip-files00083.jpg'
2deda3211ac5d33325c3d88d7d1ef5bb
e72814efecb25d75fad3bf593a5b58b2139312f9
describe
'44710' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXB' 'sip-files00083.pro'
ecda098d5c0724ac532f9678077e6d06
9e8bd9e3c8cf08c1b024dfae39de5f9bc1f2ab95
describe
'49529' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXC' 'sip-files00083.QC.jpg'
02e8aaa39e52d16a670bfa6175e76952
2128f0270b7f721f84ba4fff0d7f654f0ad4bfa3
describe
'1554592' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXD' 'sip-files00083.tif'
e1d7163576d177b499cb8bece498ae7c
38f46e39e005f50a9a6128e39a0723bfa767aed8
describe
'1821' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXE' 'sip-files00083.txt'
b8074e8b394297a6c1755b112f0cb932
6f61b41274e4ed7f6d7c9ad225a5cc2421b511da
describe
'22317' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXF' 'sip-files00083thm.jpg'
322b4e04f55443df9ded92d0c5ef2d8e
123e4d614425949f96f97772cbe6acd216b8af97
describe
'64252' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXG' 'sip-files00084.jp2'
e3292a04029065494e06d23966d5ea31
24708095a692403dfcdd5244162aacd6c6e5ad74
describe
'154688' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXH' 'sip-files00084.jpg'
9de08adab4039ff735ca704b8aea7328
2c989d28bca3e1d244856c8cb6804368cdbd2bcd
describe
'55746' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXI' 'sip-files00084.pro'
2fce48a8a25a5e9767f1df60706649ad
34bfc3c823a26a45f0c9b66b2261d950daf3dbfa
describe
'55401' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXJ' 'sip-files00084.QC.jpg'
4a4590ee6406b4822992b93a5413be2e
33f28f5c5ca4df0eb8015954479c268f10ceafb0
'2011-12-31T14:08:26-05:00'
describe
'1555240' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXK' 'sip-files00084.tif'
8ed96f2150f34bc73c475974965eaf57
78be1d664e4702c2069d93bf33336ab689a2a0a2
describe
'2175' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXL' 'sip-files00084.txt'
3da5419ca13d9c7a0bd54856b29c9b9b
c7dc55ab52f57160c9a9b609edf240934c91f359
describe
'23539' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXM' 'sip-files00084thm.jpg'
18e5a9914d2a3bae2d97bbff9187ce9d
e5f9e435cf4fa56121549a38651d021cd59269ff
describe
'64283' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXN' 'sip-files00085.jp2'
c531984abb8fb14210d6685691ec3b79
f0919075729c2b6c9ad18387434fd533b829dc51
describe
'152762' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXO' 'sip-files00085.jpg'
2546b51747041939e41ed1aa67bb8fc5
bd3d4c158d43559b2bfec2ca9bc54334450f002b
describe
'55025' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXP' 'sip-files00085.pro'
04bbc9680efb297ea5403f6a3de585aa
32a645368dcae8fcc498afd320298c028528d3f4
describe
'55633' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXQ' 'sip-files00085.QC.jpg'
e2a6e375902a4d4623dd33d39b259a6a
9a6300c957e0cd6dbcf025dfe00cf2b5a720f95f
describe
'1555140' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXR' 'sip-files00085.tif'
7fb71dae076e01f378b65a0e9b8b647f
b5b9b974a64f0a98cc79ce1f0d1c3989e3c7f899
describe
'2193' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXS' 'sip-files00085.txt'
96d496d8fa9eb60179e841513e19f228
6ffa46bb05020f3dcb48ff0b651ba808c52e491e
describe
'23547' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXT' 'sip-files00085thm.jpg'
905b7d95c51eb6202c751eed8630fc68
90867990b6e2d786c92106043b2bd4e71bc0e969
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXU' 'sip-files00086.jp2'
047e2e8ccbe6bcd83053bd0c1d4a2cf1
2c92b914829dd02a7351b36c9a9ec490815b9c40
describe
'163391' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXV' 'sip-files00086.jpg'
6a3b39df63105683c84168790ce5e330
42feef259c2c59164212f915c210c6562ce4414e
describe
'54915' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXW' 'sip-files00086.pro'
2442f32106e79d04b561872339d0ab4f
048b12436937abc69f3b50c4a3dfd905220660f8
describe
'57092' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXX' 'sip-files00086.QC.jpg'
8919c786c2367bc56fedddd4d4dba9ac
65d76bdec679f18850fe47ebd8b8442257e92f6f
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXY' 'sip-files00086.tif'
070d713876db1d0c8f2879fe84650297
f6880531a8870fe4aa356bcbc0cecf409735b6c5
'2011-12-31T14:09:45-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKXZ' 'sip-files00086.txt'
e303250a3bb4403376821bb526b907c2
237e65ce70ddb8903bac2c2449e565ccb92ff70e
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYA' 'sip-files00086thm.jpg'
ba26eecfd842adb6fdb3851758858e82
5b5fa5014e68ce390cef322aa2f5231444091b6a
describe
'64174' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYB' 'sip-files00087.jp2'
4a4f9295302df29f8799c24d6f391618
fc88de5c5390e88f59d3c35fdfde8f9f090a8211
describe
'168512' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYC' 'sip-files00087.jpg'
e192979d117d180f9af6c12769a16d03
f8f91a987db901a6c3cd9d47d976f82d8e64c4d2
'2011-12-31T14:09:52-05:00'
describe
'54818' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYD' 'sip-files00087.pro'
4b520c2beea0655e11a77c981ce10110
597395a2def975119f464b5d866a1a297bebb54b
describe
'58104' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYE' 'sip-files00087.QC.jpg'
916b524a5b21e683a79f23e84fa33150
c0e020955a7cab76f76900d0d17829074ec60f70
'2011-12-31T14:10:46-05:00'
describe
'1555472' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYF' 'sip-files00087.tif'
443936ae127469da7d5c86821be83f4d
1649dadc72c5cb0b605a47d976b4660e41ef7922
describe
'94763' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYG' 'sip-filesadv1.jpg'
5b6266047ac234385747f2b5019a7d41
2f201f32e1dd1eae99292f30eafe4978eb8fa681
describe
'2176' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYH' 'sip-files00087.txt'
f7cb7a325481b2afa2c5d24e708b2917
2aae8f5ec392c68e5773664621fd167e4b51dd0b
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYI' 'sip-files00087thm.jpg'
221ce34e185ca423f850285a2805b69d
1807118fbb6277edd5fe0f25ec9100eb2ef82029
describe
'64282' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYJ' 'sip-files00088.jp2'
19bd1b8778de4391c6f69876a2855cb3
ba3c4146b459fb55c6b5871f8ba2803014b65403
describe
'131485' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYK' 'sip-files00088.jpg'
d7ca37b811af2d0f9b16c6cbe075feba
d588f921b174c00c70782ada04e02452bdb33199
describe
'45845' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYL' 'sip-files00088.pro'
0d9462969a7070f44de461120d61b929
1ec023fc1cdefef9ec499a25328faa3f4adf5158
describe
'45882' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYM' 'sip-files00088.QC.jpg'
714275059cb57d1c3e4cc9bc83ee3024
ea008e059b60e63ad1bcbc013d8b39b366a91f48
describe
'1554124' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYN' 'sip-files00088.tif'
4a95315a94c736bdd9bae129c65419c0
0da4c863d6ee6d242b12a0eea6017a0fa903131e
describe
'2071' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYO' 'sip-files00088.txt'
e6db1798612365f4b1a4bd81d8db9f96
4d7c8db9e1b33e30295607b2331319e4d33f0127
describe
'21305' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYP' 'sip-files00088thm.jpg'
a09df398d02c9edffbc1d87c8e97c4db
b97647332e0dfb00e2b03b05ce55424b4d87c161
describe
'64085' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYQ' 'sip-files00089.jp2'
c29f61485147408bf51f0ecf657aeec3
d2b98a337513be9537348ec4d95fcb282e9310d9
describe
'129389' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYR' 'sip-files00089.jpg'
024e157e8d08a997f0bc4287f6427ea4
1af6516dfb20936bc1b0a445b9a0206298d3527e
describe
'45495' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYS' 'sip-files00089.pro'
2e76eaddad34f1e0d73db960a0b042c8
4040753b0cce8c69adc7062f3640d672f967da7d
'2011-12-31T14:09:16-05:00'
describe
'50741' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYT' 'sip-files00089.QC.jpg'
5c2ae8349652e45fd04d5fe3dd95b060
427ae42c22ef2f7878755eaccc1aaf6f7bdac34d
describe
'1554544' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYU' 'sip-files00089.tif'
1c5a2daf635b5f85d53806340583dfc5
ce9d21678cfcd682686bfb582d916e4d8e824e2c
describe
'1831' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYV' 'sip-files00089.txt'
df8a105ea944ebb7970bd952400c8f43
c6dabe62a121bdd2ef809c73bde9579ba577e098
describe
'22388' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYW' 'sip-files00089thm.jpg'
02b23f3d438c7dca9ad3abd3e599761a
6daf627b0e71a5540fe1164a71464849ae250ffc
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYX' 'sip-files00090.jp2'
d82b711627a00b12795439dc06bb3b74
d361a9255ae2e1248dc501dedd27977e418c1561
'2011-12-31T14:08:19-05:00'
describe
'165295' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYY' 'sip-files00090.jpg'
40348ccf987f4b778dbb3c0863d0780c
25b82937e11f0a27170a4a7a4852ff90d778864f
describe
'55101' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKYZ' 'sip-files00090.pro'
6fdc800be8339bcc070a9d0bd0050947
3b39ad81eb01b119ada4a7b118b8680f24906ef1
describe
'55790' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZA' 'sip-files00090.QC.jpg'
ba6eef72333ba4601969c229729712cf
675d028651e9f673ee6a715126f6c6761375888f
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZB' 'sip-files00090.tif'
c60fd24b6679005aeca2eea7f7b01f23
0a6d416cbbfe0bdc9247569eb1feaf809f73ea7c
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZC' 'sip-files00090.txt'
44f6f8dbc990c36e872c0c5720b3dacb
7f59a9867d40f4d5d929de8ba0f8f854a28cc717
describe
'23906' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZD' 'sip-files00090thm.jpg'
516e8e5d842c5d20a6e50969c70eba78
d5fb321b12a70966f7f8e9c2abc7df374f897131
describe
'64098' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZE' 'sip-files00091.jp2'
9623c36de57ddac55f29d3fc715f16a6
3f376a8b6fba3723ee8abedcf7aa7c3744714d27
describe
'148923' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZF' 'sip-files00091.jpg'
7d3df59081fed2973f42375f91cae4ba
7b155427a0e4d6289fc1e7bc6a880bba335543b1
describe
'55397' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZG' 'sip-files00091.pro'
f15f4b0f84bd18e2c8a26335cf76b10a
0bf63f58285b286179ffaf8104eb7dac890ef836
describe
'56715' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZH' 'sip-files00091.QC.jpg'
75c31d150126816c6417fc8e37ec373a
cc73523a17c3e66138696f6d57711004de7fc81d
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZI' 'sip-files00091.tif'
55fb9ada487ff19479c602d4842ee825
0461ddf47090bb7adb8b381ffb622a45257356cc
describe
'2159' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZJ' 'sip-files00091.txt'
e7c9a376aa1d0a628965e514155a2adb
da21ef872ec4791292bdb3641780a622d36d965c
describe
'24443' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZK' 'sip-files00091thm.jpg'
f22e03c13b1df3237043effe7587d002
1833c441ad0f8006ea02c2d8f778b348b1584224
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZL' 'sip-files00092.jp2'
a9bd285713d9246a1d17558d3ecd2c8a
c552fb06976165e13ced6610383716e65fe406e7
describe
'150660' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZM' 'sip-files00092.jpg'
f55cbafd4971f627b9050920972f1b7e
5afa900fc4d4e566800b8cccb01bbc4c7bb11942
describe
'55011' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZN' 'sip-files00092.pro'
2cb69ddfa3f56e18bc8f8357a76e2a1d
61f79a5d2ae5bd0f4c698c1aa9da56e5339f8734
describe
'56074' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZO' 'sip-files00092.QC.jpg'
f7df47ad87dd9aaaf63e1ac42a5e60f0
2e60e329397b95dcfa9a3a692249304081e8c329
describe
'1555024' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZP' 'sip-files00092.tif'
7e71b82feb3d122fc3254ed5b0fceeb8
b9e7681c821f23e73eadaf88ea0f6062ceebe9cf
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZQ' 'sip-files00092.txt'
965c5aa6980b3cf8dc7b99c8f8d13d59
60933d09e832491206c388556085dcba4fb60487
describe
'23702' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZR' 'sip-files00092thm.jpg'
afa7d043010d02f2882ecd90b6d80070
521717ade878d0889995edafc511ffcf480de5c8
describe
'64201' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZS' 'sip-files00093.jp2'
7ea45b512c2976d6ce4f57dc1e5cacc3
0a1697ca7d1d0a14010a42c8bbb330e9d648e8fa
describe
'156530' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZT' 'sip-files00093.jpg'
01ef075a879b6403c949801551578c51
f8640d15236573d3ab857161842ab16f79d47786
describe
'53531' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZU' 'sip-files00093.pro'
a996d3eaa3b211774195a0c7e00516d7
42f2e4fb8d65900769d0503aa73841e2c73ca65e
describe
'56021' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZV' 'sip-files00093.QC.jpg'
51eb9dc4796f68319e03b750c9b4ce23
b8b32ca4375aec34483935358195b34506c39fc3
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZW' 'sip-files00093.tif'
95347ae2a498853c4dcb677e42b60174
03ef2677bc7ee9cb8e59481ac123af18205e5abd
describe
'2095' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZX' 'sip-files00093.txt'
1e278ee5a6520fd63c319ed04ca2fcd8
5d0bf1f96a4943f3b11b0ae3c55375d2d1ab8d11
describe
'23536' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZY' 'sip-files00093thm.jpg'
65b56d3b807cbb31b66db6fba5e8b5c2
8d09eade79458600cbaa8a47144995d8dc208a00
describe
'64233' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAAKZZ' 'sip-files00094.jp2'
ac79d13aae066d932654430b4793c621
6eab4dc8b9c40ff724207f656eac63d5c4c1c5cd
describe
'150905' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAA' 'sip-files00094.jpg'
2a2b533a7d18c350d47d0d206930be18
6587c41e4ca58eba21abddc2c58a120d1fb0d713
'2011-12-31T14:08:47-05:00'
describe
'53580' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAB' 'sip-files00094.pro'
1467603d4c634f08e6dccab3b8de7344
55d72de149660d0881cf6492284677c913f89493
describe
'56064' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAC' 'sip-files00094.QC.jpg'
8bc13374240f4b5b939f9909affc2628
9d914a035182652adfd562a9f55e9d06d5c68b28
describe
'1555340' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAD' 'sip-files00094.tif'
789534bd4de0b003c30d4df1f80487e0
540d52bb8db955c75a74eb98c50cf6bca40e01f2
describe
'2130' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAE' 'sip-files00094.txt'
48e61bce77c2336399bb609adf720dd0
759f9eb85f01178c22b9e17904760d321ff1594b
describe
'24289' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAF' 'sip-files00094thm.jpg'
a3023c65fb79735a2a1bbe7ab28a9880
d26f34a12268ef63f302601d7efd744eefec7595
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAG' 'sip-files00095.jp2'
403f17041e3a2aacf97a1b5d908a908b
091417a13cc44dcf7aa6b1fec6f06924cabbb311
describe
'159757' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAH' 'sip-files00095.jpg'
4fb4e90eedbd558f78793fb54ff333b9
f8f0a85e1817f8cfd7e1bd2aeeda4c02baf37b15
describe
'52226' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAI' 'sip-files00095.pro'
3917b8d83e0e8dcd6b84778a477bbe48
5bcff72dd8013a0642a5c9badf7cc77769acfb53
describe
'54063' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAJ' 'sip-files00095.QC.jpg'
21b21b6253651c1a236e0c6d86f29b02
632e3f9115008045788de1fefde9a20bf4badec7
describe
'1555208' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAK' 'sip-files00095.tif'
9868557b5f461562e0623a420e5462b2
f0cdf66ab49f3a6caf799bbe8de09bb83d9d38fd
describe
'2080' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAL' 'sip-files00095.txt'
f911ba902217ef75bd8df7fba48027eb
e668f4a3306e88ee3edc9b6fb5da9fdaeca3675f
describe
'23797' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAM' 'sip-files00095thm.jpg'
80ede22bbbaa773ac571b279664dec5f
f8e8b38d3faa186c2083cade9eff89e769cd2bf5
describe
'64172' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAN' 'sip-files00096.jp2'
55ec8d5a48b3110def83c15f8c6c7323
e516f6569d99413ab499c54fe15a7c74be339d06
describe
'150931' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAO' 'sip-files00096.jpg'
6695805c13c893952b5baadcf92403b2
08e835611e7422ae5fa6ee8b292ef536bc70d0e7
describe
'47429' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAP' 'sip-files00096.pro'
4e2a83392578556d1ca3c2103ed18007
27879b2c8495dbddf3093a466266d7526fc3ca96
describe
'51472' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAQ' 'sip-files00096.QC.jpg'
f9e9275d4016a0db8117b12fab2effe6
eb35478bff1adfa745462eea7844d5f67f4e7380
describe
'1554988' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAR' 'sip-files00096.tif'
f41ec90d4e8b0eb03d599e15fc0ded81
139d7207411912e431ca0b088a1dc10c890cd382
describe
'1897' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAS' 'sip-files00096.txt'
61e83d322870cd59dc981590a9e51554
f5a5c88520fd853d806eeb20b4c1a168d7c525d7
describe
'23062' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAT' 'sip-files00096thm.jpg'
16483ee6e7f32e034244decfced52cb5
734fc0189d04db5cab87f57b2c7ad838fe734c28
describe
'64194' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAU' 'sip-files00097.jp2'
ffed587dfbd4ceb0ec3498b849bccf91
d593e8ca8e52d4ba1aad6aa1f21c4a0ad6f089d1
'2011-12-31T14:11:13-05:00'
describe
'121546' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAV' 'sip-files00097.jpg'
4a4d57b12fcc4f0143ce460033b307c8
9512370d9dba490792cbc2b39f9d23b74d0d3892
describe
'46360' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAW' 'sip-files00097.pro'
57e0b6d78d6adf5658c0e235b9311600
71277fa9c3e1f5712133aac5ed97808303e53511
describe
'51265' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAX' 'sip-files00097.QC.jpg'
1ea12c9cff150988f1664280f64ba5e3
aaaff10c88eb7b375882ba7df370e6bdc7677fa2
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAY' 'sip-files00097.tif'
b2f053606b08565ebb1de4ee601b9394
5d33eccba1ae749cd68675726451a733de3d114f
describe
'1865' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALAZ' 'sip-files00097.txt'
3cf815688a8e8bf55cf6dc16012df195
890dc5d60d13771997d62c40e428127c92387aa8
describe
'22603' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBA' 'sip-files00097thm.jpg'
803289845d85c96121d194822dd74fe0
01b78f709d1f08f68898c04a41162297d0a3aa46
describe
'64105' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBB' 'sip-files00098.jp2'
6a8ad27300800a5181ba3be99395b40e
b90ac5aa8de71fc9d544ad9a92a9a28b99d2c080
describe
'169452' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBC' 'sip-files00098.jpg'
782e7f536c3a23079094ad6f7c5c91f0
34d5f7a381628820b51fad5727bcbea5141be1e7
describe
'56334' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBD' 'sip-files00098.pro'
12482fd7d6a180032cd11af786847b5d
229d040df433ea8ae507a1073afb4b51828411a6
describe
'57210' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBE' 'sip-files00098.QC.jpg'
a6170e9dda27b064cc0772691bce29d3
54138d225982f5f894cc40a4e977d0807eeee4e3
describe
'1555348' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBF' 'sip-files00098.tif'
9054c112ca50186f2e9dc27c8bd7b3ec
70a1dad1be951705cc1d950a96ca6c14a8fe1199
'2011-12-31T14:11:09-05:00'
describe
'2187' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBG' 'sip-files00098.txt'
bd85f0195399a3a6a858e205081b2020
e7431fc6a87328117d452f638e5a8c4ae390495a
describe
'24292' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBH' 'sip-files00098thm.jpg'
6d916490be3af23a466be97f5ce0bb35
7bbccd994aaca58649bbee4c65b09d34f2b0721e
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBI' 'sip-files00099.jp2'
31b1952a814c77d85b0eb22e4cc365e7
d9186d33e020e8544030a6ab0c3af048e1abafaa
describe
'164796' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBJ' 'sip-files00099.jpg'
cc4c43b18a02786b63d9fbdcbd45e3f9
6e7f2f6f29a2e8ba476cae9753587fa13ade6c5f
describe
'55168' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBK' 'sip-files00099.pro'
77ce57cd86d5079f129632f73bd0cfcd
f92805323b8a5dab11fc6d9d9f03aa58111ec811
describe
'57863' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBL' 'sip-files00099.QC.jpg'
350a70929d3cefe9de31e991c309bc75
45b8569156b2389f577d1b3cbfb1561d83d2c521
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBM' 'sip-files00099.tif'
e2f344f7f7f7799236dc60a26df8bcb1
b9f16803e07a6575ee64902633fb7c1f3acaea7f
describe
'2170' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBN' 'sip-files00099.txt'
f9f2b55956243ffb546a329ef427bad8
c850e281c5b0e4928e310bba56a0e026a1eaa7e1
describe
'24371' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBO' 'sip-files00099thm.jpg'
90dd164ff7a473d3586544bb71eba867
a7c9ff716f1b1e26f3392e8e270ee1ea3cefeb38
'2011-12-31T14:11:32-05:00'
describe
'64200' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBP' 'sip-files00100.jp2'
abc8642dfa8f04cdf90794c6d4fb2e93
bc8d7b58f148201b454efb8eaef1926d85e25ddb
describe
'146197' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBQ' 'sip-files00100.jpg'
928d3d49520f14651b949fe1ba523017
dff77cf74fed1b6af4124014b46855a5add3c57e
describe
'52585' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBR' 'sip-files00100.pro'
1f4f9317f7987a89308b479ee333f3d3
c1f2221db73205fb8a41454afb2bdabee9f78a07
describe
'56703' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBS' 'sip-files00100.QC.jpg'
0934134f5a1f9f355f30d620788d7534
b41e7260486a2bd85b0d80823a3075c3e30055b3
'2011-12-31T14:08:59-05:00'
describe
'1555292' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBT' 'sip-files00100.tif'
95b2343ce7b7e3c3f0fd24d448dbfb65
12fe8a54828ef73db5a9cb819fc5c184657430b3
describe
'2058' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBU' 'sip-files00100.txt'
b00d1635f161b78eee8bbb65524e7936
6f47a46004e77eb3e2e78fbc6650b5ba3fdc358c
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBV' 'sip-files00100thm.jpg'
cb33a84a4cec75897d920659f2a54dfb
69dcc7ea571f75681f57b82e6dfa2c1fc082fd73
describe
'64232' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBW' 'sip-files00101.jp2'
e5b60bb420785b352b474988e09ab333
2c229d5304776ee84ce02d607f9c5e86fcd2231b
describe
'154332' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBX' 'sip-files00101.jpg'
a638c650dc3e840411261159bf94fa60
a2a98b094d5fd85452e52ebc43a7c3fc97296984
describe
'56752' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBY' 'sip-files00101.pro'
485842e26f4862b7ec6f610b5ddad33e
c2d018a3af97d5159d99395cc895f245a9de1ab9
describe
'58583' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALBZ' 'sip-files00101.QC.jpg'
e04311a49f42761be6183c2fecb29de1
e89d688b0e0dc42420e06cbc20ba0330c4dd1d4a
describe
'1555544' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCA' 'sip-files00101.tif'
505a90394f7e56433a9c4516f97259a0
369431fc0e2046c3ccd84c291e0ea4e5a8e6e17f
'2011-12-31T14:12:05-05:00'
describe
'2224' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCB' 'sip-files00101.txt'
fd51b05191854594988399c6141833cd
e4158126f12d7de2a0d3ff6a550f0fe98fc3c3ad
describe
'24745' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCC' 'sip-files00101thm.jpg'
3adfc10040f89ea02132290cf8cb05bb
66ad28b930248e9669011326ddd6e70a8c2dc114
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCD' 'sip-files00102.jp2'
2761eebd15db55d27324658e33727f11
c3e222380962f7b29f7c05b4f5f87160315c9409
describe
'156123' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCE' 'sip-files00102.jpg'
860696f30b65410324f90b9cb9b77ab7
761d8e456669ad4ac85b3f383305dace72a79fe7
describe
'51039' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCF' 'sip-files00102.pro'
9df55000085eb3a7372179b5ed1f28fd
cf924a996847278bcff2fddc50e47cdf40dbffc4
describe
'57039' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCG' 'sip-files00102.QC.jpg'
687f09bf519b5122b3762cbe0efefa35
968144641c61cb869fae204b5d13e66339a04792
describe
'1555212' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCH' 'sip-files00102.tif'
b4b2f6caf2d9bc75d1dcb4b47aeef255
11d428c8307f0a590af60e179a521570fbe69a27
describe
'2033' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCI' 'sip-files00102.txt'
73b67e997565ea72cbaf99097fee2902
2984b952797e79c10197e043a640ba99ba4a4472
describe
'24112' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCJ' 'sip-files00102thm.jpg'
06d0e662fc56628f9542d2e6a9578b9c
d59b9d442eb977c6e82e9d1eed1973659c700774
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCK' 'sip-files00103.jp2'
d9837e570c7cca594099d2ba2f6c3df9
4a27cf5b1da04ebd3754f81e1d8adf3c33151d02
describe
'159228' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCL' 'sip-files00103.jpg'
3a0ec450afee6fd105978d2e134d346e
de7953cd7757f53ebfe19a7a239fc40cfef9fc89
describe
'52971' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCM' 'sip-files00103.pro'
22ceb22fe6d4c835e0f82def9337f089
5e73afa21f13fab9e46fe8ff3099ce4d9e208abe
describe
'58923' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCN' 'sip-files00103.QC.jpg'
2c59fa2d3657fb087ec87409a7e0f35b
2d78a0152da3dd5762b659d82290519e7dc41e34
describe
'1555628' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCO' 'sip-files00103.tif'
c57769869c146388d625618cb15f1bf0
9a05c4f24961ff227898e21f324172c09b7fc7df
describe
'2104' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCP' 'sip-files00103.txt'
5ba68749ec77816f28eaf2e8760d05fc
d536ff10ab2fe9b4b29bf27bdaf67089b928926a
describe
'24485' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCQ' 'sip-files00103thm.jpg'
f5a9e7b0e5ce7da282955405b145abaa
d060cb61bb29dd446a93e7597b414384d73780e9
describe
'64257' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCR' 'sip-files00104.jp2'
10d6ad89eddbbdda9af4e94e48066407
35817c09597c91a4ed4fc004ca5c879647ae5477
describe
'139488' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCS' 'sip-files00104.jpg'
69b24bdf59c0997df9276ea547c38363
23a0789b34e6f5c1ae8337adc89cecba54ea8193
describe
'52942' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCT' 'sip-files00104.pro'
3a7c34f6dd29a54d43657dbb5d10e7df
bd8697d3434a2e141445d5502f9e36a26023fcd3
describe
'56652' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCU' 'sip-files00104.QC.jpg'
97af19eaef948fabd3e89293ab49cc70
dea54a7bf35600416d10d5ef80db66eccc33f1b2
describe
'1555308' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCV' 'sip-files00104.tif'
029cd724a6c4f059838efba4ba528104
1fc72bd1cda183528d00518675a66a2a412198e9
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCW' 'sip-files00104.txt'
c5a3aaee6c0e7577b2e853dbed88211a
047ed9efd99d6e88b7a315c2e85fd4bc88be3c20
describe
'24152' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCX' 'sip-files00104thm.jpg'
ac0d64c0dd962d45101d2296c4cf8e5e
5ee44e6458a7c367b6be2971d7cf06bdbb1e1f8a
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCY' 'sip-files00105.jp2'
08a7a88280188baf60ae6e28b97b8ffd
1c53ace4c1900de26a90d18ce19946da82c01cde
'2011-12-31T14:10:55-05:00'
describe
'162912' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALCZ' 'sip-files00105.jpg'
3af3c805522e93ae2141fef56885e798
ccebb6572b029e1c3051cef68f8de7ccba2c02a3
describe
'51768' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDA' 'sip-files00105.pro'
220df64b1f9b3711ccd45e585bece4b7
ae0bb86df1f7fe318174fd2b72f3efb32107b4a6
describe
'57751' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDB' 'sip-files00105.QC.jpg'
b730ec1e93343a2ad94b7a79211228ca
e57da22ce5e2c30c09060d9fb93ea949c627f980
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDC' 'sip-files00105.tif'
954170d94cf13c9576d1e8dbabb6fd28
456f3280671b6a3b4b9e6dbf0b45f3de2fe92df3
describe
'2051' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDD' 'sip-files00105.txt'
fbc8863722e2781d22bd262016dc8620
b2b9ba539e00151ac09a014494f5e10aa4220de8
describe
'24227' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDE' 'sip-files00105thm.jpg'
759d67a4601e7e05304fe143dfbddade
79b2692c3abb73490f645203c448f2c408f40396
describe
'64276' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDF' 'sip-files00106.jp2'
d8045bb0970a732b5e9938084b26f05e
19c095b6c8c750cea205bd464dbdfa7f8a405675
describe
'161032' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDG' 'sip-files00106.jpg'
1b66f14711085caecc82a26d9c706208
3bb8a5cf7b0c613c98d8f45f2c6c372e0e6e6082
describe
'52862' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDH' 'sip-files00106.pro'
810b0a7cb7ddf804907aea518fe93527
5c212b29200dddecedcff213dd9c497c13e7ab95
describe
'54245' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDI' 'sip-files00106.QC.jpg'
226c0bd3149648090c9e8f43fc5a41f1
414303970581d46337f8ba8a872ab7b2724001ab
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDJ' 'sip-files00106.tif'
f6e7cbf40e28322e718b351033d37f52
b8525088574a24255a1d2b22c8f9dba3455a573e
describe
'2082' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDK' 'sip-files00106.txt'
c007c49e634a33f9fd1d1a30160e2437
4bd19b6ecf89149527d8a58f91305c0a9e212b80
describe
'23731' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDL' 'sip-files00106thm.jpg'
9dc8dc3fb9efc5058053148f8eea03a9
5b570d7f07c6ecb278cf882392230a34752a3d82
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDM' 'sip-files00107.jp2'
7d833ffae11f6c7edb69718c1ce4cdf4
61412758b403be6fb840efd4447e699b0915c9f5
describe
'145277' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDN' 'sip-files00107.jpg'
44d5cb08a452b7597cf20308daa2f5a5
9f3b5305b40cb99b35ab33bb834bb0a839f1dbfa
describe
'46963' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDO' 'sip-files00107.pro'
450a0f03fa248c5a8909f2bf676ea098
87b4a0fab55d5b9b96c3f1797bfb72bb6e7df6ee
describe
'50643' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDP' 'sip-files00107.QC.jpg'
869636887014cce748212129f0e4c0c2
6d430cdef9ef2c3a85dbc0010e10b2c4c517a989
describe
'1554496' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDQ' 'sip-files00107.tif'
d84aa1c99495bea37c8fbe774716bb1e
3de32e6b95e8ac88a96c24b84c1af9bf775423ac
describe
'1888' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDR' 'sip-files00107.txt'
c650190b13acfb2d342a1e95541bc194
a2613d44c9f9d53e7db46612a806becb177986df
describe
'22209' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDS' 'sip-files00107thm.jpg'
77225b6114f31d3c7b44f8de82867e7f
ee50d168f76469ab2ea99158e5612c3239869970
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDT' 'sip-files00108.jp2'
9f5a4a510bc18699b7752e23e9b4129c
bbe947ed0053e9af3992fda5f0c214b0585f03e9
describe
'161475' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDU' 'sip-files00108.jpg'
277b9a3d60925116b21838983ebad915
98b6dd2c661bc2136daa481109eb08a1d4e140c6
describe
'52214' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDV' 'sip-files00108.pro'
50e67641018acd86a03c34007febd9e6
c3b768f866b3f4b5c1ca9331c606b2a68171469a
describe
'56451' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDW' 'sip-files00108.QC.jpg'
71d721792a11ca31eec1ff49dc3dd0ac
494edf43a840cc89415a345457e5ec3db435d679
describe
'1555360' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDX' 'sip-files00108.tif'
a3273f6345bd14cee7782a92ee4af748
7b5b432cb7c2248bbe080035254e10370abbf8ba
describe
'2128' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDY' 'sip-files00108.txt'
f1f58c40ed634cb5ba3833280feb206d
f28612f4922b8d5950a54a5af9c073e3a32994ea
describe
'24041' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALDZ' 'sip-files00108thm.jpg'
f69963d7693fb317ad2e2423353a7dc1
fd1f8db5287f38906f20cefb9a8edc6454723ae7
describe
'64264' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEA' 'sip-files00109.jp2'
0441b5edf44c42c6139b330a8dd744b7
d2dbd4e6a8264762b69f03be4ff8007ef0e1cc77
describe
'159041' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEB' 'sip-files00109.jpg'
33a7ab1531fc572c80597de64149af94
d367f2dc794784aa4d3902e34c362aebc48c1797
describe
'54814' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEC' 'sip-files00109.pro'
26812d33fb32a2234f8cb49a83e25027
345ce6a8a80ea7f7f70d1d3b1ce6d0ec37d871f5
describe
'57194' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALED' 'sip-files00109.QC.jpg'
f9429d1704d8baf2491f0a5e00d17a4e
8713144eb4a24b956c16ac5ea3d7ead25cee9a0a
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEE' 'sip-files00109.tif'
18907d4fb0f12321120262fc0b276c46
7cb3d6375df47b6cc6b0e6806cf5e54e4bbd2f51
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEF' 'sip-files00109.txt'
c6cd0c3e2b505d4d03fe5ebf193fbf5a
42699b2716d4439077196146874757f6c82afa18
describe
'24027' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEG' 'sip-files00109thm.jpg'
3ed9b2aae5db641ef878a6833368db00
ecaa97b861bb849f0b77a7f206d433e72852160f
describe
'64273' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEH' 'sip-files00110.jp2'
4e5b7b49f01ac3524fbbb9f92df7c93d
becb48ca03d69cbca8ef09683bf2f3afc23f5d14
describe
'154387' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEI' 'sip-files00110.jpg'
b7c4ac1ca0f45cbcbd7e1f454ab71179
5aafd8949821abd26e7572f3a887eee0a8e4c441
describe
'54217' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEJ' 'sip-files00110.pro'
4ea6cb2170823433acc48f8839fee03b
69e794c3c904ab5881f12ebb36c45da7d7c05e7a
describe
'57327' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEK' 'sip-files00110.QC.jpg'
feb9660999b4a77452f3b46164c5aeb9
9288b7d83408d9e2a4a16129662dc071e1342e35
describe
'1555320' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEL' 'sip-files00110.tif'
cb2d6f8e450d9d74b9f6937133a45eaf
d59a0fccda3d9f03f891cb1f2acf7a26bef09bc7
describe
'2229' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEM' 'sip-files00110.txt'
c63f7e772bdd12cf30886498b3735ce9
dede3bf462471fe65c7625cc3c93ec46a169ddc5
'2011-12-31T14:10:03-05:00'
describe
'23917' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEN' 'sip-files00110thm.jpg'
a348cdcd3e9cbf66381fd24a8036858d
f0328536fc396860a4b0b751f55fe9a434d7d37e
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEO' 'sip-files00111.jp2'
9cb9e23efb04cdd655c4bd5998ecebcc
2d3b4018d76b16304fe9b059bcfd5885382d79f0
describe
'121871' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEP' 'sip-files00111.jpg'
098925d2ba09353156c485569a6ecb10
89e2401323dc80501641eae12431d3a956595acb
describe
'44565' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEQ' 'sip-files00111.pro'
22fc67a8b77b969c8c3cefbb1f910bd8
43d52441cb43923e4f5ec41aea34c05522eb2a7e
describe
'49801' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALER' 'sip-files00111.QC.jpg'
403c268fdb026472e76f62f1491641a9
fc6a8721eae578a26a1059270030c113ec7719b6
'2011-12-31T14:08:33-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALES' 'sip-files00111.tif'
c86415bc7bb52dab2b4ec4afbd195715
371939f5b943556a5092dc9372b96b22c198baa7
describe
'1847' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALET' 'sip-files00111.txt'
60eb5b6e94125757464cb4a5e968e8cf
69db3e430581663daf71692298b2decf71bd2d97
describe
'22178' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEU' 'sip-files00111thm.jpg'
fbcfb003bcf1ab47889f375ca2ef7b26
34f00f515c96a7ad23fd9795f94cb18c02d0cf37
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEV' 'sip-files00112.jp2'
8cf484c091e2d774547a6c2656c9553b
34ed2b88da364a21ded4a2d176076373ff2b152a
describe
'161287' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEW' 'sip-files00112.jpg'
c5bcb9713db664e0155c96d930c8f344
8b7586dac968776ff676044319d782bc551efc7a
describe
'55348' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEX' 'sip-files00112.pro'
42733030b327dbd31861d61584e8db62
997a3086c9c7f7f8fc88a86e81aab24b9fee17bc
describe
'59406' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEY' 'sip-files00112.QC.jpg'
80e564b5e2f814c21789ecb68cdd291f
24376b494a21ef3523baef4bc26b4c83aeded8fb
describe
'1555592' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALEZ' 'sip-files00112.tif'
b61bdffc705ec1e7855d0243d190aa53
0f6242f4475fcef37de7f96d01370b0586c9ae36
'2011-12-31T14:08:23-05:00'
describe
'2155' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFA' 'sip-files00112.txt'
3e5aeafeb6f4c5c9ebb06a9207c531dc
08897e177d331940e5539cdfd3a0c8024350bafc
describe
'24703' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFB' 'sip-files00112thm.jpg'
e3d75627599c35ea6a14a0fab8bb349d
51c2f70ebad7fd4e8d49c42a41d60c241e8b655c
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFC' 'sip-files00113.jp2'
7b7a7d4c7456b837140292cb24c7a2d2
e6d6982fa29b125c1d96229379986b34799c76ef
describe
'156555' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFD' 'sip-files00113.jpg'
e7b2b8874b800352d8e062ec6f367f77
1d16dc2a0408c2b917da29f27cfa3a266638715c
describe
'52664' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFE' 'sip-files00113.pro'
87e6cb4e026d366579bc5e1005379716
393c6f007bc275c34b32f54a29e0e536521a49d8
describe
'56048' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFF' 'sip-files00113.QC.jpg'
9fcc69819f21e03649316a58885445a9
e9961fd28116427cec5999bcacac281e0524dc45
describe
'1555432' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFG' 'sip-files00113.tif'
28a808fc1d6642514b712830584c6b44
f700c96658c3ae30b209e2f0676bb944b4802f5b
describe
'2063' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFH' 'sip-files00113.txt'
67326c9329a4f5e23b6b313f69b6434d
78fa79ac71ee60842f76bc24b82c98f716b135f9
describe
'24542' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFI' 'sip-files00113thm.jpg'
365717cd5d675c252d26c309324b7f12
87b263b66bc67edb3f7240f1396bd3c1bff23a63
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFJ' 'sip-files00114.jp2'
319e6d00f47dda6e9b9235d3f338cea0
2defed121a66ba4c72c4bb3e28cc80193b99656f
describe
'154404' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFK' 'sip-files00114.jpg'
221ebd7086270210d939c6590a29e01a
4314b922326a30341c2b9992b99ee2be4dcd0c31
describe
'54811' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFL' 'sip-files00114.pro'
7c4dbc3ada0951e8859e6eedc3e5f757
b6a30e6cc5c20f1ec663d3934670742f7540c785
describe
'57648' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFM' 'sip-files00114.QC.jpg'
8778fe66d40e65b37d26b8476d32fcd4
67da39fc372641103270c336199a7fdca676757c
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFN' 'sip-files00114.tif'
195656b2464775feddc1887cef83911a
fbfdf8d6e0cb5f46852f05565b66b6750da2cc66
describe
'2169' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFO' 'sip-files00114.txt'
4256f081763b647c6b7842e8a5b685e8
1dfb308c0790e1e9904e9fa73b151e68027bf90e
describe
'23934' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFP' 'sip-files00114thm.jpg'
69d853c46d4dd7f8f0d7cc7f1173301c
730171573db0252ef32890adc6a30b2fc2b9c6a3
describe
'64226' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFQ' 'sip-files00115.jp2'
54597ce32a2062152b1e33176232eb0e
e9bf03250c63247a37869cec848fd31ab2b86d00
describe
'160871' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFR' 'sip-files00115.jpg'
e9af17977a8a19bd39b8758e253cfb5b
4d40a79e9f2a84000be0a73db0847097b7f68a52
describe
'54686' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFS' 'sip-files00115.pro'
71067222244d0c840c20afcc12da1ee3
955afcae97b5a09e7d358831ccaa92652df70c90
describe
'57147' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFT' 'sip-files00115.QC.jpg'
1fbfee011e84ca9eb94bea9c6769952b
53e5a1ee31e2182906895553612323b50844e82c
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFU' 'sip-files00115.tif'
23e27e7dd8de40cf50c93f2ec6b29971
102d31de8342dfe2a7e3db269256c27bcfcf394a
describe
'2137' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFV' 'sip-files00115.txt'
1fb543ea0ca995b3e07756e4f068bc35
6fadd97bae87f93a8d6226bb64ad1e86ba8c9b42
describe
'24028' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFW' 'sip-files00115thm.jpg'
07bd6e58b835f1f5a8ab49fd352e85f2
f21a7bba169eecd621c704d0bbd6d777ccf2b522
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFX' 'sip-files00116.jp2'
af04ba7407c94408addebd11b3d91bd6
55db7b048770d57c3eb7823dc445d5df500a49e3
describe
'159239' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFY' 'sip-files00116.jpg'
55668a36595a60300c54ed978a2cc5d0
87b42014381796a0094e7585b713ca414f4f1ce0
describe
'54494' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALFZ' 'sip-files00116.pro'
0ffb877b107425f5b5afda9d4835f6c5
c7034fd90e9e67f24bcb5bb58dd377d52db4bc59
describe
'54808' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGA' 'sip-files00116.QC.jpg'
d8649f91f920f709fca71f9818f150de
88dcb8359bdea1f519685031deb9e8285ee73bd9
describe
'1554948' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGB' 'sip-files00116.tif'
a12c5bdb2ff6d7961976467e2b376a85
f6c52ecd47379272dadba00f039473081565f732
describe
'2149' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGC' 'sip-files00116.txt'
8e0125da1eda3ff0962ae8bbf713743b
521bec80f20c123096ee8233686919aa18b3bfd3
describe
'20691' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGD' 'sip-filesadv1.pro'
4f3df184ef975fa2caae6d8afe13e528
6d90fdd20a83ed99a9a51494f50db0f7624bc567
describe
'23472' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGE' 'sip-files00116thm.jpg'
fdaaa144cd7083ddad88a92f12c76a00
aa8afc3326a96f6ab1d53ecb0c7d48280bc843a3
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGF' 'sip-files00117.jp2'
0b6893d05d93ac79fd58d95fab925c05
9d66432981cf656eb45feba79e96a6f0f61d50b2
describe
'138800' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGG' 'sip-files00117.jpg'
5e193961b9a96cd1254113f39997d9c0
5f8d6cb5fb245df59a049135902dae9687ce5fc9
describe
'49180' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGH' 'sip-files00117.pro'
9422eda30bdaa6c25f3f49781832a37e
f00340217cfbdf911f572505cc405c3a80089e62
describe
'51391' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGI' 'sip-files00117.QC.jpg'
41daa83b6b5cb9908be25efeb8b863e7
6091f2d941d4cd3630c65ec2b1f2e70796d20049
describe
'1554736' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGJ' 'sip-files00117.tif'
12e242d7199ac3c057f391989e6eb935
31e793a44b654ef98452637c2659d41b912088e4
describe
'1986' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGK' 'sip-files00117.txt'
3185b0d063c3b8f008abe846379f9875
dd7b771074044f9764dccee548a8a5853b3415e5
describe
'22666' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGL' 'sip-files00117thm.jpg'
44bf3f0359b50715d7a66501f05ffa7e
ede3a5824a3f921aececdab5e1eab687fe60ebda
describe
'64199' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGM' 'sip-files00118.jp2'
dbb6cacbad3d70898855271a100a30a2
4c7924a242de0882cddda5982ea12bd87f73dc9d
describe
'138295' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGN' 'sip-files00118.jpg'
68e6ec6fc582268049c22b4f14bf0628
3fee234ae81dd0cbecdad38f6476c07b1825229c
describe
'45399' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGO' 'sip-files00118.pro'
44f880fac0d1df0da3fad88aa2ffc185
e24e648deadd3bad85cafc5162151e772b580986
describe
'49772' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGP' 'sip-files00118.QC.jpg'
400b54bed4b16493b7775af267f27926
a9b0d3cbe42fb818915a27e2218181eb619f7792
describe
'1554248' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGQ' 'sip-files00118.tif'
9eb3e72672d115a29c20a0a6847a5194
ecc007578233bdcbea3975ae1a28c7172bd08990
describe
'1835' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGR' 'sip-files00118.txt'
fa08ba3de6b4bb9a9573fef10b4743bb
6e769027a02cc6528d0c29327c8cea306db48e88
describe
'21930' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGS' 'sip-files00118thm.jpg'
a09e10e2eba03783191d46523b71140a
07dd35a5424446c352a6d61669152b3f278bc0fa
describe
'64245' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGT' 'sip-files00119.jp2'
bd4373284f61d2ac36c0954664b7f0a9
1f4c15be063050c93d489d2201cef19e91e23b4f
describe
'163141' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGU' 'sip-files00119.jpg'
cb6d286edfcd630c2ab4887a8aef6f0a
a7d75c71ca91fc4670ec9a90e99c17027b3db8e5
describe
'53782' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGV' 'sip-files00119.pro'
678b7bbd6589b88d147fd9d574b40c95
1bfd3be7294555ad772d596f86f47d9297fa7703
describe
'56173' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGW' 'sip-files00119.QC.jpg'
333b00a741e9ab8d3095a8cf97e64083
1633c66de2d4249a4a072202a6e7915235a89280
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGX' 'sip-files00119.tif'
50a6f01ae110b193e249efd612d0497a
c220e1a93f57727d8173138fb1985d5bb03f52d7
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGY' 'sip-files00119.txt'
f5cb520c064814f6185bca032a993888
f9866a2a6b16db15b776508e706155ff038148ac
describe
'23758' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALGZ' 'sip-files00119thm.jpg'
b14eb562680f7055542f40cec0cd473a
2c56289d81d7f16851bec45cdbe11c74dbdd9656
describe
'64254' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHA' 'sip-files00120.jp2'
2dd8db927dfb44f0d599bb53852ee8d0
bc1d5eb12dbbc152b880956df1a0a14b1a2b1f12
describe
'146417' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHB' 'sip-files00120.jpg'
cdd35a85c4e46e7965bd289e4c1ae918
4b8e9ee6b2179dfb326400bd4d2771f5b6ec6fb5
describe
'54763' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHC' 'sip-files00120.pro'
bc8703ef1574dada56cdf9235a27aa3c
41afc1d0592b5961ce4f67ae95f36e0f6153d047
describe
'55713' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHD' 'sip-files00120.QC.jpg'
cce1153a897091cc60ef7e85e3972d0c
da86555eafc720b0191365f275b21a691433f632
describe
'1554932' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHE' 'sip-files00120.tif'
b71e51de7fff36f54dcabb87cde9ead7
803cc84f972193f77955dc3c74d048a337232ea7
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHF' 'sip-files00120.txt'
a837f6e1693e6c43eeab9138419cceb4
19175960b9a35612d79239722ecc63334166dd6c
describe
'23573' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHG' 'sip-files00120thm.jpg'
aad45d78212670e975fa5ff4658cc99b
1ed1e97bf589f5422f2b68e8e84faa8060bbf988
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHH' 'sip-files00121.jp2'
4c04b05ace26e563c58c3c09847c4d37
4a930b3e2930ba1203d0771e23a9759c9a3dc632
describe
'146055' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHI' 'sip-files00121.jpg'
3018d5260063a417caeabda804ca0d2f
d91c9c6b93b4e94cc691e02fd5d24980fb1ef7dd
describe
'57684' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHJ' 'sip-files00121.pro'
0c1bdb126ba26849ebf96ece7a8de2b4
6f23ba1d6859fad122ac10b9596bc8c895795991
describe
'56684' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHK' 'sip-files00121.QC.jpg'
84b53073213b5dfa61afeddaeecae879
8dfe6020034b45ad6aa145bc865f2bd503a393ec
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHL' 'sip-files00121.tif'
de4e7ecd0ce185b5a8e6a17e9f0ced05
93367acff1fceadd74214b040d5ff17ee207fbac
describe
'2263' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHM' 'sip-files00121.txt'
c4f02ce5a88638d7948349dcd71e4bcf
117f1856139a095defd981b92fc0fccf68e7d895
describe
'23437' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHN' 'sip-files00121thm.jpg'
c369f5ab046cfb5d37e12eb9b75f6439
5a42ea7ceab863cad16ae4fc255a76456dd51508
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHO' 'sip-files00122.jp2'
2b6eb3937653e6047aeb26334cf90e69
37bd64192f8dfa18be6a2eec8cffee2432c66e89
describe
'155184' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHP' 'sip-files00122.jpg'
9ffe37cd88c6cc137cb0950e05708124
0984ba489db4866496cd5e93080bf6413e0ec293
describe
'56575' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHQ' 'sip-files00122.pro'
36a08a9916cebf4bcfb9c9a2be2cdf0c
d6f82602b8489b12f1cfb54bb6981df40006672a
describe
'56433' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHR' 'sip-files00122.QC.jpg'
ca9bd8337ee204cc4377e6ff7c57a6c8
4368461ad3c3e6c45302b5ece69bfc5551024996
describe
'1555132' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHS' 'sip-files00122.tif'
070ea7fdd5df321dc8e91d5be1c89f1c
62305ef9334f6348575766f320c88ad5b3d3aef4
describe
'2215' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHT' 'sip-files00122.txt'
67aa6ca25d1f800b5d3e9745d6130cab
c71cd4ddaf9c332269af8b577584e89d0316ca24
describe
'23699' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHU' 'sip-files00122thm.jpg'
0cdf9a46a6fc7f603c743ad7166d0bf6
9dbdbc2e4929b59dd16d8bc2e499679413510f9d
describe
'64207' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHV' 'sip-files00123.jp2'
520fd89c94433fdcaead0f07106bd86a
da0eb26defd34df9a1b72726b3d5e7539cb8914e
describe
'160565' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHW' 'sip-files00123.jpg'
fd317d92b7c8c0487e2880ad07afba9c
745b5ccf6285f2f65d279110c29e7393d8b1998e
describe
'55785' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHX' 'sip-files00123.pro'
acca3747f2fd608cd2856cd07f86cc30
acaf9d49b52521d0fb613cb23b9309ae0220d1cf
describe
'55935' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHY' 'sip-files00123.QC.jpg'
037a9674859011265d563d0d36987add
f7db80b257b1f2baea2c47ac6f3348068df84ea4
describe
'1554996' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALHZ' 'sip-files00123.tif'
6f63e737c24c1f019f45c175af775039
fbd2c1c62a704815718c91aa78ad15dac7fc9ca1
describe
'2185' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIA' 'sip-files00123.txt'
e3900af9af53cd7b5d83878fb3956222
7a6fd1dbaaef61005709e7f39866264b34490499
describe
'23537' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIB' 'sip-files00123thm.jpg'
9f01d6f817f4c6cacd12862d29fa3280
4da967f74126630f0b8177496f3bbb424ee850fd
describe
'64260' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIC' 'sip-files00124.jp2'
dd3fff3c9c1290fce6673380bb65bd6f
0f3e9950a911752abdf8c53dd0753f121be3469d
describe
'148369' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALID' 'sip-files00124.jpg'
5e7abb317a4bcf6c899d7066c19c9a7a
7bb49ebfb0c0319da879a930636121045cf3b71d
describe
'56134' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIE' 'sip-files00124.pro'
6e1aa8f704d183dfbef9eefad1463db2
e36309024e5fa2bb26199529544fb3c4df28cc12
describe
'53802' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIF' 'sip-files00124.QC.jpg'
58573a946f3ce7c09a751bae919ee731
10bfc00616d4a6a19919a2d7d424e2e09826516d
describe
'1554724' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIG' 'sip-files00124.tif'
1424cdaa425490f52cbeba5db18db324
6e28afcbdb50627e17867902fc758c905c4b62c0
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIH' 'sip-files00124.txt'
25965a08a3b4b3d90b70680741ade816
5989b11514b0cd4b2fd4dfd44498b08f0a6515a5
describe
'22869' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALII' 'sip-files00124thm.jpg'
59cf545e20520a50fd843a099bf5bf79
eeb0af3b24fd0d0a8403de53b9f7bde8fc48ff51
describe
'64219' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIJ' 'sip-files00125.jp2'
1372708e356b9164a0e17597c8addff6
a9dcda00cacaa40ce4b94411a6b3b10875f8d197
describe
'147565' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIK' 'sip-files00125.jpg'
297d4660cda279cf5448ce7b6a245fb2
2fae0e4a1153fa4cab6cd5fe42c221cbf98e80d2
describe
'53600' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIL' 'sip-files00125.pro'
35554f268ce7883c95011e3369ce08b7
07d8577a17f03dc8fb9e1b4fbf3fb3de79973f52
describe
'54050' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIM' 'sip-files00125.QC.jpg'
72c49f59386b807735c04729f824c946
fd7cb29e924bc6462f10a5ca844062f5314e954e
describe
'1554832' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIN' 'sip-files00125.tif'
01184211922555e09a768bd0786de30c
d36d57371a6886680fe0829d3b79d028959fd874
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIO' 'sip-files00125.txt'
a5f88acdcf842d58732618a168371169
18cf4fa5932496a575373c9311aba9ea24c9745e
describe
'22893' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIP' 'sip-files00125thm.jpg'
4aac42820aaf21415782a6d15abff3ae
99affd6cd2fb1be7860c094ab018dba261f8ae5d
describe
'64136' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIQ' 'sip-files00126.jp2'
8b26acf8bebaa5ea9f38fa569992421a
80025f1ef71df703b72c42bf3add192158839e64
'2011-12-31T14:10:13-05:00'
describe
'147051' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIR' 'sip-files00126.jpg'
73259ef1a9feff524cf2a141ccbd94c0
410b62b38ea81ccb8d2cedc71195489f3d6c1cda
describe
'55581' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIS' 'sip-files00126.pro'
566c7cc0aec1088ca7815696122fc279
8cd9810014cb74972946cb0b1d62f43c1886f317
describe
'55490' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIT' 'sip-files00126.QC.jpg'
8bfba118270e3e6153469616b64fde61
457997cfa5a93003903d3309de0b096a96837903
describe
'1555060' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIU' 'sip-files00126.tif'
db906d3653a3685a705004235edb6e42
a251a3fabf44f7e51ba21aa60567a7cf2c65d531
describe
'2168' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIV' 'sip-files00126.txt'
56424d6c57aadbe8047a83b1206358b1
2a39d348d10e5fdd11f733853dbc62784f8fba55
describe
'23626' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIW' 'sip-files00126thm.jpg'
aaeb68b2b7e2e6a501b0665da5d44d58
ec09caa8631ce03a1595c59bdf88cbe584ec4512
'2011-12-31T14:08:36-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIX' 'sip-files00127.jp2'
49ace2f759f58f12818059673a75e8cd
66f3028af5840179593ae06eada3f1c2afc1d350
describe
'122062' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIY' 'sip-files00127.jpg'
2071192c234c348f4e5f4b95fa4c9180
fdc32ee511da70ee330738cfa065637d75db79bb
describe
'38225' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALIZ' 'sip-files00127.pro'
501929a3cf74a43ab5573cb75d40020f
f7a1ffc877519c811832743cd74744db658bddb2
'2011-12-31T14:11:57-05:00'
describe
'42652' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJA' 'sip-files00127.QC.jpg'
aa70fb395d26c31230024b4af586fcbe
6edfd61f4673e615a95bf67623d7dd01a12bc03c
describe
'1553376' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJB' 'sip-files00127.tif'
26371797d92eb7a1409eb9ed1d44761f
de1e18edeffa6fc431d2e9de5dcf2fe845856937
describe
'1540' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJC' 'sip-files00127.txt'
2e514c41eae9765f1f79dfa8d410a107
245380c84ab98880019c1279ffd59d95acb45549
describe
'19396' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJD' 'sip-files00127thm.jpg'
f9f8bdd72c56c5c79b587efa42b9fe7a
0467ce7607e6e159a4ef016a47d6fd94bd78cc54
describe
'40287' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJE' 'sip-filesadv1.QC.jpg'
e2e1285cd8feb0d3af55cc94ff14562d
7eedbb4179c7c8e56ab957fbee3772e87fd27637
describe
'1553672' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJF' 'sip-filesadv1.tif'
849bd9268f48990c406085714f10fc3a
a23853b4f9b273efef6ba73d886147b5fe31d013
describe
'860' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJG' 'sip-filesadv1.txt'
d5cbbc162ca1c9c77c7a37ce8c60912c
7edb21507d2166f0ca5da778ff7ae4bada8f5427
describe
Invalid character
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJH' 'sip-filesadv10.jp2'
712d146e8510ab59fd7e25d1e9ed3547
9e97e5769b549ccc8d5acb3931a65528f8d3725d
describe
'139180' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJI' 'sip-filesadv10.jpg'
ab477dfe0d59c28f161da3bc0c539b2e
cc3eb116dcb8228b7e53b722279e482ea7983508
describe
'48615' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJJ' 'sip-filesadv10.pro'
1dd39e0232106abaf3b8c51badcb4be9
7afd57f9476539461133e72fac2231b0aafd5a3d
describe
'54092' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJK' 'sip-filesadv10.QC.jpg'
d957843aaa68d8b2393ae0fe981cccef
71f7b2c82fa3110686d667d5694866f00bfcd720
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJL' 'sip-filesadv10.tif'
61e956c97aee2f650f61812d91c69cd4
e1c626878f1f269734135d68f6a0d4d588f58b64
describe
'2017' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJM' 'sip-filesadv10.txt'
6861c6d58951d2881e71f4c99d5a8ad4
96dd0f03c1707030bde3b4064d2a4d6581233b54
describe
Invalid character
'23913' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJN' 'sip-filesadv10thm.jpg'
2563f893f5d7fe78eba7cfc2b9d29e41
0311d58db707cf0c12fa6d81f15cd80f3c54a754
describe
'64214' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJO' 'sip-filesadv11.jp2'
2ae8d5147cbe1cac3252491b82d73a8a
143b2ba4aa6453d38e769aa6c6f4f09a21092703
describe
'127001' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJP' 'sip-filesadv11.jpg'
4c563a043db68572de5e7ac99f4832bc
77451dbba919b1e3a32d5f2f879542b95dad5613
describe
'40844' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJQ' 'sip-filesadv11.pro'
f178cbf5c0fd1f2a20df0a2e5a199f4f
f5eba44c2dc469f0fd27972935024e1147b5ff84
describe
'50994' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJR' 'sip-filesadv11.QC.jpg'
224622a9544c5efab030ecc2923a1d7b
ae83eaed1f59c5da2900aa02e1ef67c0f57aa3e7
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJS' 'sip-filesadv11.tif'
fc6c2e5779db9814e29b69e17d740cca
7b3032c8a648ad7c487809253c2a7aa7fa632721
describe
'1734' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJT' 'sip-filesadv11.txt'
7f4bad0fe0d8a338507c76c336c14c4e
7728d2cfae4358f1c2b41726cde77d14bedaa9d1
describe
Invalid character
'23552' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJU' 'sip-filesadv11thm.jpg'
4df2fe7a85805963b91eb041e071d8c4
a086f02d739de6fb99b20bfa00f39b580db80079
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJV' 'sip-filesadv12.jp2'
750e90b3a65ffceff3ab608b09112c12
6cf860b4b8bdc813faa475e61b20a1248cac9827
describe
'118528' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJW' 'sip-filesadv12.jpg'
ad1ad59dacbe720c061f8a71b3f3bb1f
e721fae63b081bd1da77706d8f6ba8d12bfaa082
describe
'41654' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJX' 'sip-filesadv12.pro'
89b569501483edd206d586f8b93451bd
cd1933ae70e211e9e0c771edb2e1748e8fadb71b
describe
'48587' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJY' 'sip-filesadv12.QC.jpg'
21db68b7dbd00c46f8c9f6d9bdb72a30
6d4b9f4aa0f09379cd5a4e332b12428b023a3f3b
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALJZ' 'sip-filesadv12.tif'
1ff82cbb9aed4120261155f55b28de87
3e137593a40ac2e89193043375c929ece1b44abe
describe
'1744' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKA' 'sip-filesadv12.txt'
e49d7402c437db7705122deb48cf2536
8bfcf1565952643077f9166f000a334b74d334a8
describe
Invalid character
'22389' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKB' 'sip-filesadv12thm.jpg'
e3528c74bfd4bebb11092748c4a8b1d3
fa038545b0f0d4a65b6c691fe928cc03212ecd1b
describe
'64111' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKC' 'sip-filesadv13.jp2'
cbf1d77adae1a5a15f0fde61b48cbd80
2c8c80a9f3d9bb9c59f18c8417bff392ce6f5e6b
describe
'111375' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKD' 'sip-filesadv13.jpg'
df8e0af986572a5f2478dc52fc166f71
07b62d9e5a5842ce2017dd4e60c548a19a4d4ace
describe
'38922' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKE' 'sip-filesadv13.pro'
fe04596e4c6d33f048edd2f2c28ce6a3
712711f056476eefc1f36ce68db663b0313cfadc
describe
'46543' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKF' 'sip-filesadv13.QC.jpg'
c2b6fd6b42e72408e04073dc13ff3edc
8bf5e425cda0e2bdfe49f91751d90e6bb85c4525
describe
'1554480' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKG' 'sip-filesadv13.tif'
d444e736a00de5be27c4ba1afa0d95d9
0789c22a35ac3540d716df36ea62ec0ed2aaa68c
describe
'1674' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKH' 'sip-filesadv13.txt'
9a2db6713ac0b4264e9aa12505ea54a6
36ebe88fc5ecbd72b1b87668065d975174e948fb
describe
'22159' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKI' 'sip-filesadv13thm.jpg'
32f0f8fdeba792127478f4f89d5523f5
2f2b1a04504053403f1a8087bf6919248ac42585
describe
'64278' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKJ' 'sip-filesadv14.jp2'
54cb64a4e76daf81d5d4dff4b69feb90
a5b6469558150d3ca232f91a8c6bdbac235da588
describe
'118864' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKK' 'sip-filesadv14.jpg'
cc2650eda3ce669825b663a2b1d17d06
b65f6c2aa729b396c0abe073d00902fa6ef164be
describe
'41540' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKL' 'sip-filesadv14.pro'
6f1a0b622f5257eb4491d7ab5b3ac083
7b47f4725b0cd732eaabca35d2f9fd0f2b82bc28
describe
'49974' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKM' 'sip-filesadv14.QC.jpg'
a77ee9fa99a1d7ba3c00784fc4156543
4ff24c40b9bef4616b6d083f39e57f2eb5ab071b
describe
'1554768' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKN' 'sip-filesadv14.tif'
6cd6765c2da8f0e0f0237e0324a23ac1
87d4a27217923c846701703df9fe2982f4b0d034
describe
'1726' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKO' 'sip-filesadv14.txt'
e4e5d0f87d4a62c593e005f43d877650
fb467a9edade1ef3addc52c62aabc3f36cc4978d
describe
'23030' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKP' 'sip-filesadv14thm.jpg'
838f7b5faae250aa101a4226b0680e29
d037bf95d02f5f71561b23601879992ca5f9491e
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKQ' 'sip-filesadv15.jp2'
c4692c75801fb508bbc4254102fb8de8
6e8d25ac45f33e8873079e404aa9980c87805159
describe
'121411' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKR' 'sip-filesadv15.jpg'
7b61b48ce19900fc985c58d8d715fec0
6513655cbf90e4405ce992587c043bd3cc726733
describe
'43698' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKS' 'sip-filesadv15.pro'
4072694d88cb976aaaf093f9014dfb64
6422a459c6b3d02e6b3567eae985d87b6b757c09
describe
'46484' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKT' 'sip-filesadv15.QC.jpg'
040ed3e01b37474a3ac09f3848553b02
f7c94daeadc92fb609f69a0622e7d3d686478408
describe
'1554580' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKU' 'sip-filesadv15.tif'
1ead4a11eff7cea3ec0db66257716aed
d72d3174fe717055e1bdf342bebec80553fe4b1c
'2011-12-31T14:07:56-05:00'
describe
'1895' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKV' 'sip-filesadv15.txt'
a817490100dc2e9123c5987789be78df
1d4640a447fd0fab0137a862dc81cb5ccdce40df
describe
Invalid character
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKW' 'sip-filesadv15thm.jpg'
4577f6ca00b10a68dcedf170a1bc9255
4dce4f48ecfac1dc1bc849417dd5c7a5a920efcb
describe
'64231' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKX' 'sip-filesadv16.jp2'
41a63c4588eb036e0e2a95dcaa534293
a2948e4be316b63ddb0309d841f3e26d78ca61a5
describe
'105575' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKY' 'sip-filesadv16.jpg'
2fe9f732308d31823256441b34d28503
fbed91568c8ec778bdb93420b4670dfb9d3d8572
describe
'35899' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALKZ' 'sip-filesadv16.pro'
4150127b26e6a28dacd50af218c50af9
2e6115879a6707623281733528585ee89005e701
describe
'42141' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLA' 'sip-filesadv16.QC.jpg'
3333e4bd10124458166a74f4875d6c03
c7ecd7a0626ca4bfe0b126dae899d46e55a5bfed
describe
'1554080' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLB' 'sip-filesadv16.tif'
599c2705a0ccfb2421580f36dd0e9a5a
c0a3536af73d015d6984dd922a4f0f93899c3455
describe
'1591' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLC' 'sip-filesadv16.txt'
57bb682798d819f7de62382363b5e57b
1943cf29b0ce27d87eb65629e1ebc7bccb58ddb4
describe
Invalid character
'20963' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLD' 'sip-filesadv16thm.jpg'
b357ba50ec229ff4c85fe484d3d2694d
3cfd57169bd6c09700a7972b640a6ce2936e41e4
describe
'20262' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLE' 'sip-filesadv1thm.jpg'
16c609ffaa27908d916ce0b0517911a4
b7029618665ef7f7efbb3f40e248cfb53e959dd2
describe
'64234' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLF' 'sip-filesadv2.jp2'
0ae2afce3e9e6906f7577179ddbf018d
26cead9066e409cb93e2c99c7115c711e4e7f6a4
describe
'145546' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLG' 'sip-filesadv2.jpg'
ea3970feba4f6f2c684f11252115ff42
55db0aa6d0553722d87106035c5d795bdbea9176
describe
'37528' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLH' 'sip-filesadv2.pro'
84e10f13a1b7ceda4203b5e8db212c70
0c84fce12b53813d61953a3c031d75720238fa84
describe
'53977' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLI' 'sip-filesadv2.QC.jpg'
deed480b184f6374799ebaa995a65fb1
35d2b10d411a11349ba323a859c2bdfef3928ff8
describe
'1555416' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLJ' 'sip-filesadv2.tif'
a71ee9367436dbe992253690b60ca93d
f2b7c0f14c479cbe60edda606f3f2d1ea65e7aa1
describe
'1487' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLK' 'sip-filesadv2.txt'
927f4fab5fa894de00f1f282873d3431
830ae77722567cb7ce2d7784736831c90ecbb5c5
describe
Invalid character
'24105' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLL' 'sip-filesadv2thm.jpg'
b86be212fdb961d918a1e1a8a1a0bb35
81f706f94c0a28b0d0f42c1af9a52c331e99632c
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLM' 'sip-filesadv3.jp2'
6c8e313b11bf08017bf76b90cf3ae903
d366209cda4063285795d8046b950168d7d9ed01
describe
'150102' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLN' 'sip-filesadv3.jpg'
d39366ae64a37d094490e0ab7bbfbdbd
708bcb79c16df85267cd7fb0e72ab0685096d97d
describe
'58579' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLO' 'sip-filesadv3.pro'
4ac03f22191d57cbb1b2343fdcb49c2b
86f3f61f836b7881924a605e4c8b715f031fbecc
describe
'56398' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLP' 'sip-filesadv3.QC.jpg'
512bf6aaf0a716a952db77938f69f865
3301604bd02fd8a7e5ef5188e063a7879da9055f
describe
'1555532' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLQ' 'sip-filesadv3.tif'
e6ac944edb5853c126ae18e8fa1540e4
15a19d62ab12084604c83c9544c803641eebf622
describe
'2420' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLR' 'sip-filesadv3.txt'
7b665a84fc31cb5317ce79295635dd49
d1a03b3d4c89f65bfe6998a6e511c741f80b64b8
describe
Invalid character
'24391' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLS' 'sip-filesadv3thm.jpg'
5634c12d5f2c27a3e1795d8b41c5296c
619895f3b21c5bf71abacea72c14cd6266f354d7
describe
'64229' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLT' 'sip-filesadv4.jp2'
21f6057b0a4cd72c6d44ef7f984cfc88
88493212a9a3b62f6491caab1eec0caa1fadeefd
describe
'145228' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLU' 'sip-filesadv4.jpg'
726aa500f1ea68a81e8263e24fd06cbb
f2312fc5d7ea082a33119f48141817c965c48b77
describe
'61196' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLV' 'sip-filesadv4.pro'
e2c7d18bd005ba2f413d67c065032a85
6d89d92d0c1db8a71e4cda144e04b113c3815c23
describe
'54943' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLW' 'sip-filesadv4.QC.jpg'
88e30c2889e3c3e3958565f3829ce91c
a7bf33b27394f34fde8d0442c4671980ae8d2684
describe
'1555488' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLX' 'sip-filesadv4.tif'
c6a080e2326ce24819be321c89e7da85
be81b1d8af4e7ba9986945befbab13eacf1ba78c
describe
'2424' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLY' 'sip-filesadv4.txt'
0d7692bf831020211df4a5839979f43d
fa09e9a3e30e73c8f602b41fd90fd0aed443de12
describe
Invalid character
'24213' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALLZ' 'sip-filesadv4thm.jpg'
ecf568ec495eb03e829bbf856bc9796d
cdccd8d365063bd36929cbbbeca275ae7309e6b2
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMA' 'sip-filesadv5.jp2'
290848ff8f47d52ba0bf609cfd88ad36
a0d5bb5cc63e6a4c3d8160d7d0a349d9bd514ef1
describe
'140184' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMB' 'sip-filesadv5.jpg'
440a62797627d634dc8e51674d07c46a
c973024ad9997b2b81cae2c526cd4bb414109f42
describe
'55728' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMC' 'sip-filesadv5.pro'
cf0755bcc2d991eab0d5767fda830fbe
bda97276b0f3c3a79a53b02b0e458b619a673a51
describe
'53945' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMD' 'sip-filesadv5.QC.jpg'
34102a704b3c85c96234b0fbf5c6fe84
ea518e5675b94419c93f071eb0ff0e09f8061e85
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALME' 'sip-filesadv5.tif'
cb13d7b18659ea0ae7ff3698e04dd6ad
86dfb073e257cca7b85d6fd08594d75bcc0ba7aa
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMF' 'sip-filesadv5.txt'
bb14d3f659895ec989dbb5a58cd05245
f95e04380e47964263bf757fcd3e0460393aeb7a
describe
'24082' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMG' 'sip-filesadv5thm.jpg'
c3ce0a2452df91b1c3c8a63af8be88ab
1730a6ac69dc2dee02a6b2949be159798b4756a3
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMH' 'sip-filesadv6.jp2'
f2a1ad8682e7e9e72a944caee8e9dc53
ddcde52298b8f468a4d4a438295ff486d6fe1a44
describe
'143385' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMI' 'sip-filesadv6.jpg'
5d2c4d7c8593b1d5efaf62436d931718
707bacb36ee534a40d40d50b7d3c6f8e97c344fe
describe
'55297' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMJ' 'sip-filesadv6.pro'
b31e09bbaf5a7e225a4be5433dd9e682
bb293d56c756e2014e43a72b306a9ca783dd202f
describe
'54699' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMK' 'sip-filesadv6.QC.jpg'
eb608765a3e84a472f1a84f95fa75ef2
a1b12cec49afa242da5af7dc8586a0829df10682
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALML' 'sip-filesadv6.tif'
14d4b05e048687b81b0ab710d264a2f1
3c73e010a92e57fae5ef1212d04c5f160bd2f1a5
describe
'2272' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMM' 'sip-filesadv6.txt'
4e5c45305908347c0ace28d64c2ff2f4
2026307f09aec378d065f0401b094d0dee031090
'2011-12-31T14:11:03-05:00'
describe
'24150' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMN' 'sip-filesadv6thm.jpg'
eaf0220072a4c3ff29cb17635debee1d
e89d4d040e869a0d6c690c1d630505450eac8acd
describe
'64168' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMO' 'sip-filesadv7.jp2'
ac7132f7785378ee7e32be4e75be2840
64202e2e2b810bd7172eeafa27a708e30cb30ae3
describe
'138640' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMP' 'sip-filesadv7.jpg'
8e330b81793969af4b4fe355d31488a8
5055365c861d0296a6a73651217f53198e5ba94a
describe
'50596' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMQ' 'sip-filesadv7.pro'
9aecb4c9e53630fb7c787bff09f1076f
11083c9d37167d9393909ab0d74768133bc8a0db
describe
'53685' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMR' 'sip-filesadv7.QC.jpg'
509fa972d606e5e647d2726ce8f4e9ef
509346629b86a8155cd7dd4ccdce68719dc3dddb
describe
'1555168' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMS' 'sip-filesadv7.tif'
42aeb7d8ebe25a0ec71bef3690b98ba0
fe5865502fd840c1179c6af7eb2a88b5f4b26668
describe
'2171' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMT' 'sip-filesadv7.txt'
0817c90b200adb849c8762ffca320d29
cb600556d525f1574631cc6c9cf61c6c96ced2a3
describe
Invalid character
'23560' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMU' 'sip-filesadv7thm.jpg'
cabd14c503bc3c8bc65e41a499f45f52
bb79c7169695a803f2c2c409b68d2c31f9395f6d
describe
'64241' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMV' 'sip-filesadv8.jp2'
52ebe25233f7ece97316e7191f546c8f
4aaab39757482c2bcac96750cad7cb3bef31f52a
describe
'123161' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMW' 'sip-filesadv8.jpg'
0a76cf85d2ad249c60d37f911507a705
3c1879435064cda03ee00ab93061ba90b187ec4b
describe
'37308' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMX' 'sip-filesadv8.pro'
b2d5a3723765cbad590ae719d6a6b4fc
c61ef81c2163b2e4737d9517f9d6839e1464d17e
describe
'51139' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMY' 'sip-filesadv8.QC.jpg'
acf5db3d72e9e5a6636d3e4df3240ac4
72bd661e314f447b42108107276d9db0885b4817
describe
'1554656' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALMZ' 'sip-filesadv8.tif'
63a69bb75426186ec717d6ad94cb0ce7
7b77e5fdd99d63ab1e27b386c06f5b54834f99e4
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALNA' 'sip-filesadv8.txt'
c5f85941526d5836d476b8857079b591
0f0cbe8580a1b3f9a3f1e7d8c843273bee222589
describe
'22592' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALNB' 'sip-filesadv8thm.jpg'
98c84d81fd11f8a93cc9ff808a15bd0b
cbde76c0cdf3e3d06fbd490f5610f39d8e4a7fe3
describe
'64290' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALNC' 'sip-filesadv9.jp2'
42e623a14e87ebd876db7ed24b792997
d8d9ede353e5baed110ad860deb3c2af332fb959
describe
'137632' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALND' 'sip-filesadv9.jpg'
f0aebe6005b874e0459c88e0fae71312
8a73e8e5e81ea462c8dcc67fb4524c5c27d90840
describe
'45187' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALNE' 'sip-filesadv9.pro'
6b28b664457ec51d7411ecfb6ef2de09
4f7be901ad978595b60d500e9c2144fc0e71dd4f
describe
'53004' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALNF' 'sip-filesadv9.QC.jpg'
d520e7d36d41e12b160eeb0d6365037d
330c9d1c955058673ce819572419147d2495bc32
describe
'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALNG' 'sip-filesadv9.tif'
fa1c79d132880a7681fd1fc8a41e88ff
6b757221e2024f0940e32e2333b9871bc2451108
describe
'1905' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALNH' 'sip-filesadv9.txt'
ea1b708dd71cc4545b720bd14f208ca2
07a99460ee13f2f76d53b0726b35a875993c9121
describe
'23143' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALNI' 'sip-filesadv9thm.jpg'
7aa6343a27e5e3acf1a529af44377c8f
c066022aeef701923b384bc866bcd9ef9dcc0eb3
describe
'18' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALNJ' 'sip-filesprocessing.instr'
5a387db1130d7da0a6aa9498cebb9682
63692e69b370bf10ee1739c4a306e82ecf3ae493
describe
'215848' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALNK' 'sip-filesUF00003532_00001.mets'
6c252aba1121547346b03515f4a0e5e5
6cc3119514be65f5926b0d33fc621d64009a94d6
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/'.
'2013-12-13T16:45:26-05:00' '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/'.
'278859' 'info:fdaE20090219_AAAAAKfileF20090220_AAALNN' 'sip-filesUF00003532_00001.xml'
e64983ea2c34d677ecfabdb25720845f
8f83e704475c6a4bcef439cc500fcad305418db5
describe
'2013-12-13T16:45:24-05:00'
xml resolution


xml record header identifier oai:www.uflib.ufl.edu.ufdc:UF0000353200001datestamp 2008-11-13setSpec [UFDC_OAI_SET]metadata oai_dc:dc xmlns:oai_dc http:www.openarchives.orgOAI2.0oai_dc xmlns:dc http:purl.orgdcelements1.1 xmlns:xsi http:www.w3.org2001XMLSchema-instance xsi:schemaLocation http:www.openarchives.orgOAI2.0oai_dc.xsd dc:title The power of kindnessdc:creator Ide, George B ( George Barton ), 1804-1872Thomas Nelson & Sonsdc:subject Christian life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )Kindness -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )Children -- Death -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )Publishers' catalogues -- 1853 ( rbgenr )dc:description b Statement of Responsibility by the Rev. George B. Ide.Publisher's catalogue follows text.Added engraved t.p.dc:publisher T. Nelson and Sonsdc:date 1853dc:type Bookdc:format 127, 16 p. ; 18 cm.dc:identifier http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/ufdc/?b=UF00003532&v=00001002231983 (ALEPH)AAA4904 (LTQF)ALH2371 (LTUF)45964436 (OCLC)dc:source University of Floridadc:language English