Citation
Granny's wonderful chair

Material Information

Title:
Granny's wonderful chair and its tales of fairy times
Creator:
Browne, Frances, 1816-1879
Lucas, Marie Seymour ( Illustrator )
Griffith, Farran, Okeden & Welsh ( Publisher )
Turnbull & Spears ( Printer )
Place of Publication:
London ;
Sydney
Publisher:
Griffith, Farran, Okeden & Welsh
Manufacturer:
Turnbull and Spears
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
94 p., [16] leaves of plates : ill. (some col.) ; 26 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Magic -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Children's stories ( lcsh )
Fairy tales -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1890 ( lcsh )
Fantasy literature -- 1890 ( rbgenr )
Children's literature -- 1890 ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1890
Genre:
Children's stories
Fantasy literature ( rbgenr )
Children's literature ( rbgenr )
novel ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
England -- London
Australia -- Sydney
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
Plates printed in colors.
Statement of Responsibility:
by Frances Browne ; illustrated by Marie Seymour Lucas.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
026610086 ( ALEPH )
ALG3166 ( NOTIS )
86069953 ( OCLC )

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Full Text


Grerite ARRAN OKs sh
SNOWBERY ROUSE, CHARING CROSS ROAD,
ORBON < SYVNY.

ay







The Baldwin Library

University
RMB sit
Florida









Granny’s Wonderful Chair











Granny's |
Wonderful Chair

And its ‘Tales of Fairy Times -

By

FRANCES BROWNE

Illustrated by Marie Seymour Lucas



London

Griffth Farran Okeden & Welsh |

Newbery House Charing Cross Road
AND SYDNEY







Table of Contents.

INTRODUCTORY.

THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO.

THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO (Continued).
THE LORDS OF THE WHITE AND GREY CASTLES.
THE GREEDY SHEPHERD.

THE STORY OF FAIRYFOOT.

THE STORY OF FAIRYFOOT (Continued)
THE STORY OF CHILDE CHARITY.
SOUR AND CIVIL.

SOUR AND CIVIL (Continued).

THE STORY OF MERRYMIND.

THE STORY OF MERRYMIND (Continued).
PRINCE WISEWIT’S RETURN.







List of Coloured Fllustrations.

CHAIR OF MY GRANDMOTHER, TELL ME A STORY.
LISTEN TO THE STORY

THE MORE THEY TALKED THE LIGHTER GREW THEIR HEARTS
THEY MENDED THE SHOES OF LORDS AND LADIES
. SENT TO HERD TIE SWINE AND SLEEP ON STRAW
THEY CAME INTO THE RAVENS’ NEIGHBOURHOOD
THE BROTHERS LIVED PEACEABLY

ONCE A YEAR THE FOREMOST SCULLIO WAS SENT
FAIRYFOOT MAKING A HUMBLE REVERENCE

SHE SCOURED PAILS

THE PROUD COUSINS STRUTTED LIKE PEACOCKS .
CIVIL HELPED THE GREAT FISII

SHE FLUNG IT INTO THE SEA

AN OLD DINGY FIDDLE

TWO FAIR MAIDENS SPINNING

DAME FROSTY FACE YET SPINS

PAGE
Frontispiece
15

23

29

v2 v2
“I ws

ary
bo

56
59
65
69
78
81
88

94





Publisher’s Wote.

RANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR was first published in 1856,
in the small quarto shape which was then so familiar, and was
illustrated by Kenny Meadows. Although a small book it was

published at “3s. 6d. plain, and 4s. 6d. coloured,” and it very speedily became

popular, and went out of print. It was not reprinted until 1880, when it was



issued in more modern dress as an eighteenpenny volume; it then took
a fresh lease of life: New Editions appeared in 1881—1882—-1883—1884
—1887, and in 1889, when, owing to the effect of competition, it had to
take its place in a shilling series. In the meantime a very curious circum-
stance had occurred. In the year 1887, Mrs Frances Hodgson Burnett
commenced in S¢ Nicholas, “The Story of Prince Fairy Foot,” which she
intended to be the first of a series under the general title of “Stories from
the Lost Fairy-Book, retold by the Child who Read Them.” It was im-
mediately discovered that the lost fairy-book was the little volume called
“Granny’s Wonderful Chair, and the Tales it Told;” and in regard to
this lost fairy book Mrs Burnett wrote in St Wicholas in February 1887 :—

“ When I was a child of six or seven, I had given to me a book of fairy-stories, of which I
was very fond. Before it had been in my possession many months, it disappeared, and though
since then I have tried repeatedly, both in England and America, to find a copy of it, I have
never been able to do so. I asked a friend in the Congressional Library at Washington—a man
whose knowledge of books is almost unlimited—to try to learn something about it forme. But
even he could find no trace of it; and so we concluded it must have been out of print some
time. I always remembered the impression the stories had made on me, and, though most of
them had become very faint recollections, I frequently told them to children, with additions of
my own. The story of Fairyfoot I had promised to tell a little girl; and in accordance with the
promise, I developed the outline 1 remembered, introduced new characters and conversation,
wrote it upon note-paper, inclosed it in a decorated satin cover, and sent it to her. In the first
place it was rewritten merely for her, with no intention of publication ; but she was so delighted
with it, and read and re-read it so untiringly that it occurred to me other children might like to
read it also. So I made the plan of developing and rewriting the other stories in like manner,
and having them published under the title of ‘ Stories from the Lost Fairy-Book, retold by the
Child who Read Them.’”



GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.



CHAPTER I.

Sntroductory.

sa ¢N an old time, long ago, when the fairies were in the world, there
oH lived a little girl so uncommonly fair and pleasant of look, that
“me they called her Snowflower. This girl was good as well as
pretty. No one had ever seen her frown or heard her say a
cross word, and young and old were glad when they saw her coming.

Snowflower had no relation in the world but a very old grand-
mother, calied Dame Frostyface ; people did not like her quite so well
as her granddaughter, for she was cross enough at times, but always
kind to Snowflower ; and they lived together in a little cottage built of
peat, and thatched with reeds, on the edge of a great forest; tall trees
sheltered its back from the north wind; the mid-day sun made its front
warm and cheerful; swallows built in the eaves; daisies grew thick at
the door; but there were none in all that country poorer than Snow-
flower and her grandmother. A cat and two hens were all their live-
stock : their bed was dry grass, and the only good piece of furniture in
the cottage was a great arm-chair with wheels on its feet, a black velvet
cushion, and many curious carvings of flowers and fawns on its dark
oaken back.

On that chair Dame Frostyface sat spinning from morning till
night to maintain herself and her granddaughter, while Snowflower
gathered sticks for firing, looked after the hens and the cat, and
did whatever else her grandmother bade her. There was nobody in
the shire could spin such fine yarn as Dame Frostyface, but she
spun very slowly. Her wheel was as old as herself, and far the more
worn; indeed, the wonder was that it did not fall to pieces. So
the dame’s earnings were small, and their living meagre. Snow-
Hower, however, felt no want of good dinners or fine clothes. Every
evening, when the fire was heaped with the sticks she had gathered
till it blazed and crackled up the cottage chimney, Dame Frostyface
set aside her wheel, and told her a new story. Often did the little
A



10 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

girl wonder where her grandmother had gathered so many stories,
but she soon learned that. One sunny morning, at the time of the
swallows coming, the dame rose up, put on the grey hood and mantle
in which she carried her yarn to the fairs, and said, “ My child, I am
going a long journey to visit an aunt of mine, who lives far in the north
country. I cannot take you with me, because my aunt is the crossest
woman alive, and never liked young people: but the hens will lay eggs
for you; there is barley-meal in the barrel; and, as you have been a
good girl, I'll tell you what to do when you feel lonely. Lay your head
gently down on the cushion of the arm-chair, and say, ‘Chair of my
grandmother, tell me a story.’ It was made by a cunning fairy, who
lived in the forest when I was young, and she gave it to me because
she knew nobody could keep what they got hold of better. Remember,
you must never ask a story more than once in the day; and if there
be any occasion to travel, you have only to seat yourself in it, and say,
‘Chair of my grandmother, take me such a way.’ It will carry you
wherever you wish; but mind to oil the wheels before you set out, for
I have sat on it these forty years in that same corner.”

Having said this, Dame Frostyface set forth to see her aunt in the
north country. Snowflower gathered firing and looked after the hens
and cat as usual. She baked herself a cake or two of the barley-meal ;
but when the evening fell the cottage
looked lonely. Then Snowflower re-
membered her grandmother's words, and,
laying her head gently down, she said,
“Chair of my grandmother, tell me a
story.”

Scarce were the words spoken, when
a clear voice from under the velvet
cushion began to tell a new and most
wonderful tale, which surprised Snow-
flower so much that she forgot to be
frightened. After that the good girl was
lonely no more. Every morning she
baked a barley cake, and every evening
the chair told her a new story; but she
could never find out who owned the
voice, though Snowflower showed her
gratitude by polishing up the oaken
back, and dusting the velvet cushion,
till the chair looked as good as new.
2 The swallows came and built in the
ves eaves, the daisies grew thicker than





INTRODUCTORY. Il

ever at the door; but great misfortunes fell upon Snowflower.
Notwithstanding all her care, she forgot to clip the hens’ wings, and
they flew away one morning to visit their friends, the pheasants, who
lived far in the forest; the cat followed them to see its relations ;
the barley-meal was eaten up, except a couple of handfuls; and Snow-
flower had often strained her eyes in hopes of seeing the grey mantle,
but there was no appearance of Dame Frostyface.

“My grandmother stays long,” said Snowflower to herself; “and
by and by there will be nothing to eat. If I could get to her, perhaps
she would advise me what to do; and this is a good occasion for
travelling.”

Next day, at sunrise, Snowflower oiled the chair’s wheels, baked a
cake out of the last of the meal, took it in her lap by way of provision
for the journey, seated herself, and said, “Chair of my grandmother,
take me the way she went.”

Presently the chair gave a creak, and began to move out of the
cottage and into the forest the very way Dame Frostyface had taken,
where it rolled along at the rate of a coach and six. Snowflower was
amazed at this style of travelling, but the chair never stopped nor
stayed the whole summer day, till as the sun was setting they came
upon an open space, where a hundred men were hewing down the
tall trees with their axes, a hundred more were cleaving them for
firewood, and twenty waggoners, with horses and waggons, were
carrying the wood away. “Oh! chair of my grandmother, stop!”
said Snowflower, for she was tired, and also wished to know what this
might mean. The chair immediately stood still, and Snowflower,
seeing an old woodcutter, who looked civil, stepped up to him, and said,
“ Good father, tell me why you cut all this wood ?”

“What ignorant country girl are you?” replied the man, “not to
have heard of the great feast which our sovereign, King Winwealth,
means to give on the birthday of his only daughter, the Princess
Greedalind. It will last seven days. Everybody will be feasted, and
this wood is to roast the oxen and the sheep, the geese and the turkeys,
amongst whom there is a great lamentation throughout the land.”

When Snowflower heard that she could not help wishing to see, and
perhaps share in, such a noble feast, after living so long on barley cakes ;
so, seating herself, she said, “‘ Chair of my grandmother, take me quickly
to the palace of King Winwealth.”

The words were hardly spoken, when off the chair started through
the trees and out of the forest, to the great amazement of the wood-
cutters, who, never having seen such a sight before, threw down their
axes, left their waggons, and followed Snowflower to the gates of a
great and splendid city, fortified with strong walls and high towers, and



12 GRANNVY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

standing in the midst of a wide plain covered with cornfields, orchards,
and villages.

It was the
richest city in
all the land;
merchantsfrom
every quarter
came there to
buy and. sell,
and there was
a saying that
people had
only to live
seven years in
it to make
their fortunes.
Rich as they
were, however, Snowflower thought she had never seen so many dis-
contented, covetous faces as looked out from the great shops, grand
houses, and fine coaches, when her chair: rattled along the streets ;
indeed, the citizens did not stand high in repute for either good-nature
or honesty ; but it had not been so when King Winwealth was young,
and he and his brother, Prince Wisewit, governed the land together—
Wisewit was a wonderful prince for knowledge and prudence. He
knew the whole art of government, the tempers of men, and the powers
of the stars ; moreover, he was a great magician, and it was said of him
that he could never die or grow old. In his time there was neither
discontent nor sickness in the city—strangers were hospitably enter-
tained without price or questions. Lawsuits there were none, and
no one locked his door at night. The fairies used to come there at
May-day and Michaelmas, for they were Prince Wisewit’s friends —all
but one, called Fortunetta, a shortsighted but very cunning fairy, who
hated everybody wiser than herself, and the prince especially, because
she could never deceive him.

There was peace and pleasure for many a year in King Winwealth’s
city, till one day at midsummer Prince Wisewit went alone to the
forest, in search of a strange herb for his garden, but he never came
back ; and though the king, with all his guards, searched far and near,
no news was ever heard of him. When his brother was gone, King
Winwealth grew lonely in his great palace, so he married a certain
princess, called Wantall, and brought her home to be his queen. This
princess was neither handsome nor agreeable. People thought she
must have gained the king’s love by enchantment, for her whole dowry





INTRODUCTORY, 13

was a desert island, with a huge pit in it that never could be filled, and
her disposition was so covetous, that the more she got the greedier she
grew. In process of time the king and queen had an only daughter,
who was to be the heiress of all their dominions. Her name was
the Princess Greedalind, and the whole city were making preparations
to celebrate her birthday—not that they cared much for the princess,
who was remarkably like her mother both in looks and temper, but
being King Winwealth’s only daughter, people came from far and near
to the festival, and among them strangers and fairies who had not been
there since the days of Prince Wisewit.

There was surprising bustle about the palace, a most noble build-
ing, so spacious that it had a room for every day in the year. All the
floors were of ebony, and all the ceilings of silver, and there was such
a supply of golden dishes used by the household, that five hundred
armed men kept guard night and day lest any of them should be
stolen. When these guards saw Snowflower and her chair, they ran
one after another to tell the king, for the like had never been seen nor
heard of in his dominions, and the whole court crowded out to see the
little maiden and her chair that came of itself.

When Snowflower saw the lords and ladies in their embroidered
robes and splendid jewels, she began to feel ashamed of her own bare
feet and linen gown; but at length taking courage, she answered all
their questions, and told them everything about her wonderful chair.
The queen and the princess cared for nothing that was not gilt. The
courtiers had learned the same fashion, and all turned away in high
disdain except the old king, who, thinking the chair might amuse him
sometimes when he got out of spirits, allowed Snowflower to stay and
feast with the scullion in his worst kitchen. The poor little girl was
glad of any quarters, though nobody made her welcome—even the
servants despised her bare feet and linen gown. They would give
her chair no room but in a dusty corner behind the back door, where
Snowflower was told she might sleep at night, and eat up the scraps
the cook threw away.

That very day the feast began; it was fine to see the multitudes
of coaches and people on foot and on horseback who crowded to the
palace, and filled every room according to their rank. Never had
Snowflower seen such roasting and boiling. There was wine for the
lords and spiced ale for the common people, music and dancing of all
kinds, and the best of gay dresses ; but with all the good cheer there
seemed little merriment, and a deal of ill-humour in the palace.

Some of the guests thought they should have been feasted in
grander rooms ; others were vexed to see many finer than themselves.
‘All the servants were dissatisfied because they did not get presents.



i4 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

There was somebody caught every hour stealing the cups, and a
multitude of people were always at the gates clamouring for goods and
lands, which Queen Wantall had taken from them. The guards con-
tinually drove them away, but they came back again, and could be
heard plainly in the highest banquet hall: so it was not wonderful
that the old king’s spirits got uncommonly low that evening after
supper. His favourite page, who always stood behind him, perceiving
this, reminded his majesty of the little girl and her chair.

ug “Tt is a good thought,” said
King Winwealth. ‘I have not
heard a story this many a year.
Bring the child and the chair
instantly!”

The favourite page sent a
messenger to the first kitchen,
who ‘told the master-cook, the
master-cook told the kitchen-
maid, the kitchen-maid told the
chief-scullion, the chief-scullion
told the dust-boy, and he told
Snowflower to wash her face,
rub up her chair, and go to the
highest banquet hall, for the
great king Winwealth wished
to hear'a story.

Nobody offered to help her,

; but when Snowflower had made
herself as smart as she could with soap and water, and rubbed the
chair till it looked as if dust had never fallen on it, she seated herself,
= said :—“ Chair of my grandmother, take me to the highest banquet
hall.”

Instantly the chair marched in a grave and courtly fashion out of
the kitchen, up the grand staircase, and into the highest hall. The
“chief lords and ladies of the land were entertained there, besides many
fairies and notable people from distant countries. There had never
been such company in the palace since the time of Prince Wisewit ;
nobody wore less than embroidered satin. King Winwealth sat on his
ivory throne in a robe of purple velvet, stiff with flowers of gold; the
quecn sat by his side in a robe of silver cloth, clasped with pearls ; but
the Princess Greedalind was finer still, the feast being in her honour.
She wore a robe of cloth of gold, clasped with diamonds ; two waiting-
ladies in white satin stood, one on either side, to hold her fan and
handkerchief; and two pages, in gold-lace livery, stood behind her









INTRODUCTORY. 15

chair. With all that Princess Greedalind looked ugly and spiteful ;
she and her mother were angry to see a barefooted girl and an old
chair allowed to enter the banquet hall.

The supper-table was still covered with golden dishes, and the best
of good things, but no one offered Snowflower a morsel: so, having
made an humble courtesy to the king, the queen, the princess, and the
good company, most of whom scarcely noticed her, the poor little girl
sat down upon the carpet, laid her head on the velvet cushion, as she
used to do in the old cottage, and said :—“ Chair of my grandmother,
tell me a story.”

Everybody was astonished, even to the angry queen and _ the
spiteful princess, when a clear voice from under the cushion, said :—
“Listen to the story of the Christmas Cuckoo!”





CHAPTER II.

The Christmas Cuckoo.

NCE upona time there stood in the midst of a bleak moor,
in the north country, a certain village; all its inhabitants
were poor, for their fields were barren, and they had little
trade, but the poorest of them all were two brothers called

Scrub and Spare, who followed the cobbler’s craft, and had but one

stall between them. It was a hut built of clay and wattles. The door

was low and always open, for there was no window. The roof did net
entirely keep out the rain, and the only thing comfortable about it was

a wide hearth, for which the brothers could never find wood enough

to make a sufficient fire. There they worked in most brotherly friend-

ship, though with little encouragement.

“The people of that village were not extravagant in shoes, and
better cobblers than Scrub and Spare might be found. Spiteful people
said there were no shoes so bad that
they would not be worse for their
mending. Nevertheless Scrub and
Spare managed to live between their
own trade, a small barley field, and
a cottage garden, till one unlucky
day when a new cobbler arrived in
the village. He had lived in the
capital city of the kingdom, and, by
his own account, cobbled for the
queen and the princesses. His awls
were sharp, his lasts were new; he
set up his stall in a neat cottage with
two windows. The villagers soon
found out that one patch of his would
wear two of the brothers’. In short,
all the mending left Scrub and Spare,
and went to the new cobbler. The i
season had been wet and cold, their barley did not ripen well, and the
cabbages never half closed in the garden. So the brothers were poor
that winter, and when Christmas came they had nothing to feast on but
a barley loaf, a piece of rusty bacon, and some small beer of their own







THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO. 17

brewing. Worse than that, the snow was very deep, and they could
get no firewood. Their hut stood at the end of the village, beyond it
spread the bleak moor, now all white and silent; but that moor had once
been a forest, great roots of old trees were still to be found in it,
loosened from the soil and laid bare by the winds and rains—one of
these, a rough, gnarled log, lay hard by their door, the half of it above
the snow, and Spare said to his brother—

“Shall we sit here cold on Christmas while the great root lies
yonder? Let us chop it up for firewood, the work will make us warm.’

“*No,’ said Scrub; ‘it's not right to chop wood on Christmas ;
besides, that root is too hard to be broken with any hatchet.’

“«Hard or not we must have a fire, replied Spare. ‘Come,
brother, help me in with it. Poor as we are, there is nobody in the
village will have such a yule log as ours.’

“Serub liked a little grandeur, and in hopes of having a fine yule
log, both brothers strained and strove with all their might till, between
pulling and pushing, the great old root was safe on the hearth, and
beginning to crackle and blaze with the red embers. In high glee, the
cobblers sat down to their beer and bacon. The door was shut,
for there was nothing but cold moonlight and snow outside; but the
hut, strewn with fir boughs, and ornamented with holly, looked cheerful
as the ruddy blaze flared up and rejoiced their hearts.

“«Tong life and good fortune to ourselves, brother!’ said Spare.
‘I hope you will drink that toast, and may we never have a worse fire
on Christmas—but what is that ?’

“Spare set down the drinking-horn, and the brothers listened aston-
ished, for out of the blazing root they heard, ‘Cuckoo! cuckoo !’ as plain
as ever the spring-bird’s voice came over the moor on a May morning.

«Tt is something bad,’ said Scrub, terribly frightened.

“May be not,’ said Spare; and out of the deep hole at the side
which the fire had not reached flew a large grey cuckoo, and lit on the
table before them. Much as the cobblers had been surprised, they
were still more so when it said—

“*Good gentlemen, what season is this ?’

‘«*Tt’s Christmas,’ said Spare.

“Then a merry Christmas to you!’ said the cuckoo. ‘I went to
sleep in the hollow of that old root one evening last summer, and never
woke till the heat of your fire made me think it was summer again ;
but now since you have burned my lodging, let me stay in your hut till
the spring comes round—I only want a hole to sleep in, and when I
go on my travels next summer be assured I will bring you some present
for your trouble.’

“«Stay, and welcome, said Spare, while Scrub sat wondering if it



18 GRANNY S WONDERFOL CHATR.

were something bad or not; ‘I'll make you a good warm hole in the
thatch. But you must be hungry after that long sleep ?—here is a slice
of barley bread. Come, help us to keep Christmas!’

“The cuckoo ate up the slice, drank water from
the brown jug, for he would take no beer, and flew
into a snug hole which Spare scooped for him in the

‘thatch of the hut.

“Scrub said he was afraid it wouldn’t be lucky ;
but as it slept on, and the days passed, he forgot
his fears. So the snow melted, the heavy rains
came, the cold grew less, the days lengthened, and
one sunny morning the brothers were awoke by the

Ye cuckoo shouting its own cry to let them know the
spring had come.

“*Now I’m going on my travels,’ said the bird, ‘over the world to
tell men of the spring. There is no country where trees bud or flowers
bloom, that I will not cry in before the year goes round. Give me
another slice of barley bread to keep me on my journey, and tell me
what present I shall bring you at the twelvemonth’s end.’

“ Scrub would have been angry with his brother for cutting so large
a slice, their store of barley-meal being low; but his mind was occupied
with what present would be most prudent to ask: at length a lucky
thought struck him.

“* Good master cuckoo,’ said he, ‘if a great traveller who sees all
the world like you, could know of any place where diamonds or pearls
were to be found, one of a tolerable size brought in your beak would
help such poor men as my brother and I to provide something better
than barley bread for your next entertainment.’

“*T know nothing of diamonds or pearls,’ said the cuckoo; ‘they
are in the hearts of rocks and the sands of rivers. My knowledge is
only of that which grows on the earth. But there are two trees hard
by the well that lies at the world’s end—one of them is called the
golden tree, for its leaves are all of beaten gold: every winter they fall
into the well with a sound like scattered coin, and I know not what
becomes of them. As for the other, it is always green like a laurel.
Some call it the wise, and some the merry tree. Its leaves never fall,
but they that get one of them keep a blythe heart in spite of all mis-
fortunes, and can make themselves as merry in a hut as in a palace.’

“Good master cuckoo, bring me a leaf off that tree!’ cried Spare.

“«* Now, brother, don’t be a fool!’ said Scrub ; ‘ think of the leaves
of beaten gold! Dear master cuckoo, bring me one of them!’

‘‘ Before another word could be spoken, the cuckoo had flown out of
the open door, and was shouting its spring cry over moor and meadow.





THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO. 19

The brothers were poorer than ever that year; nobody would send
them a single shoe to mend. The new cobbler said, in scorn, they
should come to be his apprentices; and Scrub and Spare would have
left the village but for their barley field, their cabbage garden, anda
certain maid called Fairfeather, whom
both the cobblers had courted for
seven years without even knowing
which she meant to favour.

“Sometimes Fairfeather seemed
inclined to Scrub, sometimes she
smiled on Spare; but the brothers
never disputed for that. They
sowed their barley, planted their
cabbage, and now that their trade
was gone, worked in the rich villagers’
fields to make out a scanty living.
So the seasons came and passed:
» spring, summer, harvest, and winter
followed each other as they have
done from the beginning. At the
end of the latter, Scrub and Spare
had grown so poor and ragged that
Fairfeather thought them beneath her notice. Old neighbours forgot
to invite them to wedding feasts or merrymaking; and they thought
the cuckoo had forgotten them too, when at daybreak, on the first of
April, they heard a hard beak knocking at their door, and a voice
crying—

“Cuckoo! cuckoo! Let me in with my presents.’

“ Spare ran to open the door, and in came the cuckoo, carrying on
one side of his bill a golden leaf larger than that of any tree in the north
country ; and in the other, one like that of the common laurel, only it
had a fresher green.

“¢ Here, it said, giving the gold to Scrub and the green to Spare,
‘it is a long carriage from the world’s end. Give me a slice of barley
bread, for I must tell the north country that the spring has come.’

« Scrub did not grudge the thickness of that slice, though it was cut
from their last loaf. So much gold had never been in the cobbler’s
hands before, and he could not help exulting over his brother.

“<«See the wisdom of my choice !’ he said, holding up the large leaf
of gold. ‘As for yours, as good might be plucked from any hedge. I
wonder a sensible bird would carry the like so far.’

“Good master cobbler,’ cried the cuckoo, finishing the slice, ‘ your
conclusions are more hasty than courteous. If your brother be disap-





20 GRANNY S WONDERFUL CHATR.

pointed this time, I go on the same journey every year, and for your
hospitable entertainment will think it no trouble to bring each of you
whichever leaf you desire,’

“* Darling cuckoo!’ cried Scrub, ‘bring me a golden one;’ and
Spare, looking up from the green leaf on which he gazed as though it
were a crown-jewel, said—

“* Be sure to bring me one from the merry tree,’ and away flew the
cuckoo.

““This is the Feast of All Fools, and it ought to be your birthday,’

said Scrub. ‘Did ever man fling away such an Opportunity of
getting rich! Much good your merry leaves will do in the midst
of rags and poverty!’ So he went on, but Spare laughed at him,

and answered with quaint old proverbs concerning the cares that
come with gold, till Scrub, at length getting angry, vowed his brother
was not fit to live with a respectable man; and taking his lasts, his
awls, and his golden leaf, he left the wattle hut, and went to tell the
villagers,

“They were astonished at the folly of Spare, and charmed with
Scrub’s good sense, particularly when he showed them the golden leaf,
and told that the cuckoo would bring him one every spring. The new
cobbler immediately took him into partnership ; the greatest people
sent him their shoes to mend: Fairfeather smiled graciously upon him,
and in the course of that summer they were married, with a grand
wedding feast, at which the whole village danced, except Spare, who
was not invited, because the bride could not bear his low-mindedness,
and his brother thought him a disgrace to the family.

“ Indeed, all who heard the story concluded that Spare must be mad,
and nobody would associate with him but a lame tinker, a beggar-boy,
and a poor woman reputed to be a witch because she was old and ugly.
As for Scrub, he established himself with Fairfeather in a cottage
close by that of the new cobbler, and quite as fine. There he mended
shoes to everybody’s satisfaction, had a scarlet coat for holidays, and a
fat goose for dinner every wedding-day. Fairfeather, too, had a
crimson gown and fine blue ribands ; but neither she nor Scrub were
content, for to buy this grandeur the golden leaf had to be broken and
parted with piece by piece, so the last morsel was gone before the
cuckoo came with another. ,

“Spare lived on in the old hut, and worked in the cabbage garden.
(Scrub had got the barley field because he was the eldest.) Every day
his coat grew more ragged, and the hut more weatherbeaten ; but
people remarked that he never looked sad nor sour; and the wonder
was, that from the time they began to keep his company, the tinker
grew kinder to the poor ass with which he travelled the country, the



THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO. 21

beggar-boy kept out of mischief, and the old woman was never cross
to her cat or angry with the children.

“Every first of April the cuckoo came tapping at their doors with
the golden leaf to Scrub and the green to Spare. Fairfeather would
have entertained him nobly with wheaten bread and honey, for she had
some notion of persuading him to
bring two gold leaves instead of
one; but the cuckoo flew away
to eat barley bread with Spare,
saying he was not fit company
for fine people, and liked the old
hut where he slept so snugly from
Christmas till Spring.

“Scrub spent the golden y
leaves, and Spare kept the merry -==
ones; and I know not how many
years passed in this manner, SAX?
when a certain great lord, who Bo
owned that village came to the neighbourhood. His castle stood
on the moor. It was ancient and strong, with high towers and
adeep moat. All the country, as far as one could see from the highest
turret, belonged to its lord; but he had not been there for twenty
years, and would not have come then, only he was melancholy. The
cause of his grief was that he had been prime-minister at court, and in
high favour, till somebody told the crown-prince that he had spoken
disrespectfully concerning the turning out of his royal highness’s toes,
and the king that he did not lay on taxes enough, whereon the north
country lord was turned out of office, and banished to his own estate.
There he lived for some weeks in very bad temper. The servants said
nothing would please him, and the villagers put on their worst clothes
lest he should raise their rents; but one day in the harvest time his
lordship chanced to meet Spare gathering watercresses at a meadow
stream, and fell into talk with the cobbler.

“ Tow it was nobody could tell, but from the hour of that discourse
the great lord cast away his melancholy: he forgot his lost office and
his court enemies, the king’s taxes and the crown-prince’s toes, and
went about with a noble train hunting, fishing, and making merry in his
hall, where all travellers were entertained, and all the poor were
welcome. This strange story spread through the north country, and
great company came to the cobbler’s hut—rich men who had lost their
money, poor men who had lost their friends, beauties who had grown
old, wits who had gone out of fashion, all came to talk with Spare, and
whatever their troubles had been, all went home merry. The rich





22 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

gave him presents, the poor gave him thanks. Spare’s coat ceased to
be ragged, he had bacon with his cabbage, and the villagers began to
think there was some sense in him.

“ By this time his fame had reached the capital city, and even the
court. ‘There were a great many discontented people there besides the
king, who had lately fallen into ill-humour, because a neighbouring
princess, with seven islands for her dowry, would not marry his eldest
son. So a royal messenger was sent to Spare, with a velvet mantle, a

diamond ring, and a com-
mand that he should re-
pair to court immediately,

“To-morrow is the
first of April,’ said Spare,
‘and I will go with you
two hours after sunrise.’

“The messenger lodged
all night at the castle, and
the cuckoo came at sunrise
with the merry leaf.

“* Court is a fine place,’
he said when the cobbler
told him’ he was going ;
‘but I cannot come there,
they would lay snares and

-catch me; so:be careful of
the leaves I have brought
you, and give me a fare-
well slice of barley bread.’

“Spare was sorry to
part with the cuckoo, little
as he had of his company ;

gy OR! but he gave him a slice
would: have:broken Scrub’s heart in former times, it was so thick
te sand. having: sewed up the leaves in the lining of his leather
tt with the messenger on his way to court.”











CHAPTER III.
Che Christmas Cuckoo—(continued).

* Yer IS coming caused great surprise there. Everybody wondered
a . what the king could see in such a common-looking man;
2 but scarce had his majesty conversed with him half an hour,
when the princess and her seven islands were forgotten, and
orders given that a feast for all comers should be spread in the
banquet hall. The princes of the blood, the great lords and ladies,
ministers of state, and judges of the land, after that discoursed with
Spare, and the more they talked the lighter grew their hearts, so that
such changes had never been seen at court. The lords forgot their
spites and the ladies their envies, the princes and ministers made
friends among themselves, and the judges showed no favour.

“As for Spare he had a chamber assigned him in the palace, and a
seat at the king’s table; one sent him rich robes and another costly
jewels ; but in the midst of all his grandeur he still wore the leathern
doublet, which the palace servants thought remarkably mean. One
day the king’s attention being drawn to it by the chief page, his
majesty inquired why Spare didn’t give it to a beggar? But the
cobbler answered—

“* High and mighty monarch, this doublet was with me before silk
and velvet came—I find it easier to wear than the court cut ; moreover,
it serves to keep me humble, by recalling the days when it was my
holiday garment.’

“The king thought this a wise speech, and commanded that no one
should find fault with the leathern doublet. So things went, till
tidings of his brother’s good fortune reached Scrub in the moorland
cottage on another first of April, when the cuckoo came with two
golden leaves, because he had none to carry for Spare.

“Think of that!’ said Fairfeather. “Here we are spending our
lives in this humdrum place, and Spare making his fortune at court
with two or three paltry green leaves! What would they say to our
golden ones? Let us pack up and make our way to the king’s palace ;
I’m sure he will make you a lord and me a lady of honour, not to speak
of all the fine clothes and presents we shall have.’

“Scrub thought this excellent reasoning, and their packing up



24 GRANNYS IVONDERFUL CHATLR..

began ; but it was soon found that the cottage contained few things fit

for carrying to court. Fairfeather could not think of her wooden bowls,

spoons, and trenchers being seen there. Scrub considered his lasts and
awls better left behind, as without them, he concluded, no one would
suspect him of being a cobbler. So putting on their holiday
clothes, Fairfeather took her looking-glass and Scrub his
drinking horn, which happened to have a very thin rim of

silver, and each carrying a golden leaf

carefully wrapped up that none might
ie see it till they reached the palace, the
pair set out in great expectation.

“ How far Scrub and Fairfeather
journeyed I cannot say, but
when the sun was high and
warm at noon, they came

“into a wood both tired and

a hungry.

“«Tf T had known it was
so far to court,’ said Scrub,
‘T would have brought the end of
that barley loaf which we left in

foo the cupboard.’

“Husband, said Fairfeather, ‘you shouldn’t have such mean
thoughts: how could one eat barley bread on the way to apalace? Let
us rest ourselves under this tree, and look at our golden leaves to see if
they are safe” In looking at the leaves, and talking of their fine
prospects, Scrub and Fairfeather did not perceive that a very thin old
woman had slipped from behind the tree, with a long staff in her hand
and a great wallet by her side.

‘““« Noble lord and lady,’ she said, ‘ for 1 know ye are such by your
voices, though my eyes are dim and my hearing none of the sharpest,
will ye condescend to tell me where I may find some water to mix a
bottle of mead which I carry in my wallet, because it is too strong for
me?’

“ As the old woman spoke, she pulled out a large wooden bottle such
as shepherds used in the ancient times, corked with leaves rolled
together, and having a small wooden cup hanging from its handle.

“« Perhaps ye will do me the favour to taste, she said. ‘It is only
made of the best honey. I have also cream cheese, and a wheaten
loaf here, if such honourable persons as you would eat the like.’

“Scrub and Fairfeather became very condescending after this
speech. They were now sure that there must be some appearance of
nobility about them; besides, they were very hungry, and having












t ae



THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO. 25

hastily wrapped up the golden leaves, they assured the old woman they
were not at all proud, notwithstanding the lands and castles they had
left behind them in the north country, and would willingly help to
lighten the wallet. The old woman could scarcely be persuaded to sit
down for pure humility, but at length she did, and before the wallet
was half empty, Scrub and Fairfeather firmly believed that there must
be something remarkably noble-looking about them. This was not
entirely owing to her ingenious discourse. The old woman was a wood-
witch ; her name was Buttertongue ; and all her time was spent in
making mead, which, being boiled with curious herbs and spells, had
the power of making all who drank it fall asleep and dream with their
eyes open. She had two dwarfs of sons; one was named Spy, and the
other Pounce. Wherever their mother went they were not far behind ;
and whoever tasted her mead was sure to be robbed by the dwarfs.

“Scrub and Fairfeather sat leaning against the old tree. The
cobbler had a lump of cheese in his hand; his wife held fast a hunch
of bread. ‘Their eyes and mouths were both open, but they were
dreaming of great grandeur at court, when the old woman raised her
shrill voice—

«What ho, my sons! come here and carry home the harvest.’

“No sooner had she spoken, than the two little dwarfs darted out
of the neighbouring thicket.

“«Tdle boys!’ cried the mother, ‘ what have ye done to-day to help
our living ?’

“*]T have been to the city, said Spy, ‘and could see nothing.
These are hard times for us—everybody minds their business so
contentedly since that cobbler came; but here is a leathern doublet
which his page threw out of the window; it’s of no use, but I brought
it to let you see I was not idle” And he tossed down Spare’s doublet,
with the merry leaves in it, which he had carried like a bundle on his
little back.

“ Toexplain how Spy came by it, I must tell
you that the forest was not far from the great city
where Spare lived in such high esteem. All
things had gone well with the cobbler till the
king thought that it was quite unbecoming to
see such a worthy man without a servant. His
majesty, therefore, to let all men understand his
royal favour toward Spare, appointed one of his
own pages to wait upon him. The name of this
youth was Tinseltoes, and, though he was the
seventh of the king’s pages, nobody in all the
court had grander notions. Nothing could please

B





26 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

him that had not gold or silver about it, and his grandmother feared
he would hang himself for being appointed page to a cobbler. As for
Spare, if anything could have troubled him, this token of his majesty’s
kindness would have done it. .

‘The honest man had been so used to serve himself that the page
was always in the way, but his merry leaves came to his assistance; and,
to the great surprise of his grandmother, Tinseltoes took wonderfully
to the new service. Some said it was because Spare gave him nothing
to do but play at bowls all day on the palace-green. Yet one thing
grieved the heart of Tinseltoes, and that was his master’s leathern
doublet, but for it he was persuaded people would never remember that
Spare had been a cobbler, and the page took a deal of pains to let him
see how unfashionable it was at court ; but Spare answered Tinseltoes
as he had done the king, and at last, finding nothing better would do,
the page got up one fine morning earlier than his master, and tossed
the leathern doublet out of the back window into a certain lane where
Spy found it, and brought it to his mother.

“«That nasty thing!’ said the old woman ; ‘where is the good in
abe

“ By this time, Pounce had taken everything of value from Scrub
and Fairfeather—the looking-glass, the silver-rimmed horn, the
husband’s scarlet coat, the wife’s gay mantle, and, above all, the.
golden leaves, which so rejoiced old Buttertongue and her sons, that
they threw the leathern doublet over the sleeping cobbler for a jest,
and went off to their hut in the heart of the forest.

‘The sun was going down when Scrub and Fairfeather awoke from
dreaming that they had been made a lord and a lady, and sat clothed
in silk and velvet, feasting with the king in his palace-hall. It wasa
great disappointment to find their golden leaves and all their best
things gone. Scrub tore his hair, and vowed to take the old woman’s
life, while Fairfeather lamented sore; but Scrub, feeling cold for want
of his coat, put on the leathern doublet without asking or caring whence
it came.

“Scarcely was it buttoned on when a change came over him; he
addressed such merry discourse to Fairfeather, that, instead of lamen-
tations, she made the wood ring with laughter. Both busied them-
selves in getting up a hut of boughs, in which Scrub kindled a fire
with a flint and steel, which, together with his pipe, he had brought
unknown to Fairfeather, who had told him the like was never heard of.
atcourt. Then they found a pheasant’s nest at the root of an old oak,
made a meal of roasted eggs, and went to sleep on a heap of long green
grass which they had gathered, with nightingales singing all night long
in the old trees about them. So it happened that Scrub and Fair-



THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO. 27

feather stayed day after day in the forest, making their hut larger and
more comfortable against the winter, living on wild birds’ eggs and
berries, and never thinking of their lost golden leaves, or their journey
to court.

“In the meantime Spare had got up and missed his doublet.
Tinseltoes, of course, said he knew nothing about it. The whole
palace was searched, and every servant questioned, till all the court
wondered why such a fuss was made about an old leathern doublet.
That very day things came back to their old fashion. Quarrels began
among the lords, and jealousies among the ladies. The king said his

>
subjects did not pay him half enough taxes, the queen wanted more

2
jewels, the servants took to their old bickerings and got up some new
ones. Spare found himself getting wonderfully dull, and
very much out of place: nobles began
to ask what business a cobbler had
at the king’s table, and his majesty
ordered the palace chronicles to
be searched for a_ precedent.
The cobbler was too wise
to tell all he had lost with
that doublet, but being
by this time somewhat
familiar with court cus-
toms, he proclaimed a
reward of fifty gold
pieces to any who
would bring him news con-
cerning it.

““Scarcely was this made known in the city, when the gates and
outer courts of the palace were filled by men, women, and children,
some bringing leathern doublets of every cut and colour; some with
tales of what they had heard and seen in their walks about the neigh-
bourhood ; and so much news concerning all sorts of great people came
out of these stories, that lords and ladies ran to the king with
complaints of Spare as a speaker of slander; and his majesty, being
now satisfied that there was no example in all the palace records of
such a retainer, issued a decree banishing the cobbler for ever from
court, and confiscating all his goods in favour of Tinseltoes.

“That royal edict was scarcely published before the page was in
full possession of his rich chamber, his costly garments, and all the
presents the courtiers had given him; while Spare, having no longer
the fifty pieces of gold to give, was glad to make his escape out of the
back window, for fear of the nobles, who vowed to be revenged on










28 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

him, and the crowd, who were prepared to stone him for cheating them
about his doublet.

“The window from which Spare let himself down with a strong
rope, was that from which Tinseltoes had tossed the doublet, and as
the cobbler came down late in the twilight, a poor woodman, with a
heavy load of fagots, stopped and stared at him in great astonishment.

‘«“«What’s the matter, friend?’ said Spare. ‘Did you never see a
man coming down from a back window before ?”

“«Why, said the woodman, ‘the last morning I passed here a
leathern doublet came out of that very window, and [ll be bound you
are the owner of it.’

“That I am, friend,” said the cobbler. ‘Can you tell me which
way that doublet went ?”

“(As [| walked on, said the woodman, -‘a dwarf, called Spy,
bundled it up and ran off to his mother in the forest.’

“«Honest friend,’ said Spare, taking off the last of his fine clothes
(a grass-green mantle edged with gold), ‘Vlugive y@ this if you will
follow the dwarf, and bring me back my doublet’...

“<¢Tt would not be good to carry fagots in, said the woodman.
‘But if you want back your doublet, the road to the forest lies at the
end of this lane, and he trudged away. EN 4:

“Determined to find his doublet, and sure that neither crowd nor
courtiers could catch him in the forest, Spare went on-his way, and was
soon among the tall trees; but neither hut.agr dwarf>could he see.
Moreover, the night came on; the ,wood™ ‘was “dark and tangled, but
here and there the moon shone through its alleys, the great owls flitted
‘about, and the-nightingales sang. So he went:on, hoping: to find some
place of shelter. At last the red light of a fire, gleaming through a
thicket,.led ‘him to: the door; of a low hut. It;Stood half open, as if
there was nothing to fear, and within he saw his. brother Scrub snoring
loudly on. a bed of grass, at the foot of which lay his own leathern
doublet; while Fairfeather, in a kirtle made of plaited rushes, sat







roasting pheasants’ eggs by the fire. es Pa
“«* Good evening, mistress,’ said Spare, stepping"in =

‘The blaze shone on him, but so: ¢hanged was: her*brother-in-law
with his court. life, that Fairfeather did not know him, and she answered
far more courteously than was her wont. —* 4

“«* Good evening, master.. Whence come ye so late? but speak
low, for my good man has sorely tired: himself cleaving wood, and is
taking a sleep,.as you see, before supper.’ r

«A good rest to him,’ said Spare, perceiving he was -not .known.
“1 come from the court for a day’s. hunting, and have lost my way in
the forest.’







THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO. 29

“«Sit down and have a share of our supper,’ said Fairfeather, ‘I
will put some more eggs in the ashes; and tell me the news of court
-—I used to think of it long ago when I was young and foolish.’

“«Djid you never go there?’ said the cobbler. ‘So fair a dame as
you would make the ladies marvel.’

“Vou are pleased to flatter,’ said Fairfeather ; ‘but my husband
has a brother there, and we left our moorland village to try our fortune
also. An old woman enticed us with fair words and strong drink at
the entrance of this forest, where we fell asleep and dreamt of great
things; but when we woke, everything had been robbed from us-—my
looking-glass, my scarlet cloak, my husband’s Sunday coat; and, in
place of all, the robbers left him that old leathern doublet, which he has
worn ever since, and never was so merry in all his life, though we live
in this poor hut.’

“¢Tt is a shabby doublet, that,’ said Spare, taking up the garment.
and seeing that it was his own, for the merry leaves were still sewed in
its lining. ‘It would be good for hunting in, however—your husband
would be glad to part with it, I dare say, in exchange for this handsome
cloak ;’ and he pulled off the green mantle and buttoned on the doublet,
much to Fairfeather’s delight, who ran and shook Scrub, crying—

“*Hysband! husband! rise and see what a good bargain I have
made.’

“Scrub gave one closing snore, and muttered something about the root
being hard; but he rubbed his eyes, gazed up at his brother, and said—

“« Spare, is that really you? How did you like the court, and have
you made your fortune ?’

“«That I have, brother,’ said Spare, ‘in getting back my own good
leathern doublet. Come, let us eat eggs, and rest ourselves here this
night. In the morning we will return to our own old hut, at the end
of the moorland village where the Christmas Cuckoo will come and
bring us leaves.’

“Scrub and Fairfeather agreed. So in the morning they all
returned, and found the old hut little the worse for wear and weather.
The neighbours came about them to ask the news of court, and see if
they had made their fortune. Everybody was astonished to find the
three poorer than ever, but somehow they liked to go back to the hut.
Spare brought out the lasts and awls he had hidden in a corner ; Scrub
and he began their old trade, and the whole north country found out
that there never were such cobblers.

“ They mended the shoes of lords and ladies as well as the common
people; everybody was satisfied. Their custom increased from day to
day, and all that were disappointed, discontented, or unlucky, came to
the hut as in old times, before Spare went to court.



30 GRANNY’S IVONDERFUL CHATR.

ght them presents, the poor did them service. The

“The rich brou
hut itself changed, no one knew how. Flowering honeysuckle grew
over its roof; red and white roses grew thick about its door. Moreover,
the Christmas Cuckoo always came on the first of April, bringing three
leaves of the merry tree—for Scrub and Fairfeather would have no
more golden ones. So it was with them when I last heard the news of

the north country.”

“What a summer-house that hut would make for me, mamma!”
said the Princess Greedalind.

“We must have it brought here bodily,” said Queen Wantall; but
the chair was silent, and a lady and two noble squires, clad in russet-
coloured satin and yellow buskins, the like of which had never been
seen at that court, rose up and said—

“ That’s our story.”

“T have not heard such a tale,” said
King Winwealth, “since my _ brother
Wisewit went from me, and was lost in
the forest. Redheels, the seventh of my
pages, go and bring this little maid a pair
of scarlet shoes with golden buckles.”

The seventh page immediately
brought from the royal store a pair of
scarlet satin shoes with buckles of gold.
Snowflower never had seen the like before, and joyfully thanking the
king, she dropped a courtesy, seated herself and said—‘ Chair of my
grandmother, take me to the worst kitchen.” Immediately the chair
marched away as it came, to the admiration of that noble company.

The little girl was allowed to sleep on some straw at the kitchen
fire that night. Next day they gave her ale with the scraps the cook
threw away. The feast went on with great music and splendour, and
the people clamoured without; but in the evening King Winwealth
again fell into low spirits, and the royal command was told to Snow-
flower by the chief scullion, that she and her chair should go to the
highest banquet hall, for his majesty wished to hear another story.

When Snowflower had washed her face, and dusted her chair, she
went up seated as before, only that she had on the scarlet shoes.
Queen Wantall and her daughter looked more spiteful than ever, but
some of the company graciously noticed Snowflower’s courtesy, and
were pleased when she laid down her head, saying, “Chair of my
grandmother, tell me a story.”

“Listen,” said the clear voice from under the cushion, “ to the story
of Lady Greensleeves.”





CHAPTER IV.

The Lords of the White and Grep Castles.

country. Their lands lay between a broad river and an old
oak forest, whose size was so great that no man knew it. In
the midst of his land each lord had a stately castle ; one was
built of the white freestone, the other of the grey granite. So the one
was called Lord of the White Castle, and the other Lord of the Grey.

(3 NCE upon a time there lived two noble lords in the east





“ There were no lords like them in all the east country for nobleness
and bounty. Their tenants lived in peace and plenty; all strangers
were hospitably entertained at their castles; and every autumn they
sent men with axes into the forest to hew down the great trees, and
chop them up into firewood for the poor. Neither hedge nor ditch
divided their lands, but these lords never disputed. They had been
friends from their youth. Their ladies had died long ago, but the
Lord of the Grey Castle had a little son, and the Lord of the White a
little daughter ; and when they feasted in each other’s halls it was
their custom to say, ‘When our children grow up they will marry,



32 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHALR.

and have our castles and our lands, and keep our friendship in
memory.’

“So the lords and their little children, and tenants, lived happily
till one Michaelmas night, as they were all feasting in the hall of the
White Castle, there came a traveller to the gate, ‘who was welcomed
and feasted as usual. He had seen many strange sights and countries,
and, like most people, he liked to tell his travels. The lords were
delighted with his tales, as they sat round the fire drinking wine after
supper, and at length the Lord of the White Castle, who was very
curious, said— = :

“* Good stranger, what was the ee wonder you ever saw in
all your travels?’ = ©

“The most wonderful sight that ever L saw,’ replied the traveller,

‘was at the end of yonder forest, where in -an ancient?;vooden house
there sits an old woman weaving her own hair into grey cloth on an
old crazy loom. When she wants more, yarn she cuts ff her own grey
hair, and it grows so quickly that though saw it, n the morning,
it was out of the door before noon. She told m was her purpose
to sell the cloth, but none of all who came that way had yet bought
any, she asked so great a price; and, only ‘the way is so long and
dangerous throtigh that, wide forest full- of boars and wolves, some rich
lord like you might buy itfora mantle’ = ~

“ All. who- heard ‘this story were’, astonts hed, but when the
travelle vd” gore on his way the. Lord. of “the White Castle could
neithe# eat. nor. sleep for wishing ta sée the ld woman that wove her
own haig. » At. length he made ‘up his mind to, explore the forest in
search’ of her ancient house, and told*the Lord:of the Grey Castle his
intention, Being a prudent man, this ‘lord replied that traveller’s tales
were not. always to be trusted, and ear nestly advised him against under-
taking such a “long and dangerous journey, for few that went far into
that forest ever returned?” However, when the curious lord would go
in spite of all, he vowed, to bear him company for friendship’s sake,
and they agreed to set out privately, lest the other lords of the land
might laugh at them. The Lord of the White Castle had a steward
who had served him many years, and his name was Reckoning Robin.
To him he said—-

“*T am going on a long journey with my friend. Be careful of my
goods, deal justly with my tenants, and above all things be kind to my
little daughter Loveleaves till my return ;’ and the steward answered—

“ «Be sure, my lord, I will,

“The Lord of the Grey Castle also had a steward who had served
him many years, and his name was Wary Will. To him he said —

“«T am going on a journey with my friend. Be careful of my
























THE LORDS OF THE WHITE AND GREV CASTLES. 33

goods, deal justly with my tenants, and above all things be kind to my
little son Woodwender till my return ;’ and his steward answered
him—

“« Be sure, my lord, I will.’

“So these lords kissed their children while they slept, and set out
each with his staff and mantle before sunrise through the old oak forest.
The children missed their fathers, the tenants missed their lords. None
but the stewards could tell what had become of them; but seven
months wore away, and they did not come back. The lords had
thought their stewards faithful, because they served so well under their
eyes ; but instead of that, both were proud and crafty, and thinking
that some evil had happened to their masters, they set themselves to
be lords in their room.

“ Reckoning Robin had a son called Hardhold, and Wary Will, a
daughter called Drypennny. There was not a sulkier girl or boy in
the country, but their fathers resolved to make a young lord and lady
of them; so they took the silk clothes which Woodwender and Love-
leaves used to wear, to dress them, clothing the lords’ children in frieze
and canvas. Their garden flowers and ivory toys were given to Hard-
hold and Drypenny; and at last the stewards’ children sat at the chief
tables, and slept in the best chambers, while Woodwender and Love-
leaves were sent to herd the swine and sleep on straw in the granary.

“The poor children had no one to take their part. Every morning
at sunrise they were sent out—each with a barley loaf and a bottle of
sour milk, which was to serve them for
breakfast, dinner, and supper—to watch a_
great herd of swine on a wide unfenced .
pasture hard by the forest. The grass
was scanty, and the swine were continu-
ally straying into the wood in search of
acorns; the children knew that if they
were lost the wicked stewards would
punish them, and between gathering and
keeping their herds in order, they were
readier to sleep on the granary straw at
night than ever they had been within their
own silken curtains. Still Woodwender oe
and Loveleaves helped and comforted Oe eat
each other, saying their fathers would —
come back, or God would send them some friends: so, in spite of
swine-herding and hard living, they looked blithe and handsome as
ever; while Hardhold and Drypenny grew crosser and uglier every
day, notwithstanding their fine clothes and the best of all things.





34 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

“The crafty stewards did not like this. They thought their
children ought to look genteel, and Woodwender and Loveleaves like
young swineherds ; so they sent them to a wilder pasture, still nearer
the forest, and gave them two great black hogs, more unruly than all
the rest, to keep. One of these hogs belonged to Hardhold, and the
other to Drypenny. Every evening when they came home the
steward’s children used to come down and feed them, and it was their
delight to reckon up what price they would bring when properly
fattened.

“One sultry day, about midsummer, Woodwender and Loveleaves
sat down in the shadow of a mossy rock: the swine grazed about them

more quietly than usual, and they

gree plaited rushes and talked to each

“. .* other, till, as the sun was sloping

down the sky, Woodwender saw that

the two great hogs were missing.

Thinking they must have gone to

the forest, the poor children ran to

search for them. They heard the

thrush singing and the wood-doves

calling; they saw the squirrels leap-

ing from bough to bough, and the

great deer bounding by; but though

they searched for hours, no trace of

- + the favourite hogs could be seen.

'* Loveleaves and Woodwender durst

not go home without them. Deeper and deeper they ran into the

forest, searching and calling, but all in vain; and when the woods

began to darken with the fall of evening, the children feared they had
lost their way.

“Tt was known that they never feared the forest, nor all the boars
and wolves that were in it; but being weary, they wished for some
place of shelter, and took a green path through the trees, thinking it
might lead to the dwelling of some hermit or forester. A fairer way
Woodwender and Loveleaves had never walked. The grass was soft
and mossy, a hedge of wild roses and honeysuckle grew on either side,
and the red light of sunset streamed through the tall trees above. On
they went, and it led them straight to a great open dell, covered with
the loveliest flowers, bordered with banks of wild strawberries, and all
overshadowed by one enormous oak, whose like had never been seen
in grove or forest. Its branches were as large as full-grown trees.
Its trunk was wider than a country church, and its height like that of a
castle. There were mossy seats at its great root, and when the tired





THE LORDS OF THE WHITE AND GREY CASTLES. 35

children had gathered as many strawberries as they cared for, they sat
down on one, hard by a small spring that bubbled up as clear as crystal.
The huge oak was covered with thick ivy, in which thousands of birds
had their nests. Woodwender and Loveleaves watched them flying
home from all parts of the forest, and at last they saw a lady coming by
the same path which led them to the dell. She wore a gown of russet
colour; her yellow hair was braided and bound with a crimson fillet.
In her right hand she carried a holly branch ; but the most remarkable
part of her attire was a pair of long sleeves, as green as the very
grass,

“«Who are you ?’ she said, ‘that sit so late beside my well?’ and
the children told her their story, how they had first lost the hogs, then
their way, and were afraid to go home to the wicked stewards.

“«Well, said the lady, ‘ye are the fairest swineherds that ever came
this way. Choose whether ye will go home and keep hogs for Hard-
hold and Drypenny, or live in the free forest with me.’

«¢We will stay with you,’ said the children, ‘for we like not keeping
swine. Besides, our fathers went through this forest, and we may
meet them some day coming home.’

“While they spoke, the lady slipped her holly branch through the
ivy, as if it had been a key—presently a door opened in the oak, and
there was a fair house. The windows were of rock crystal, but they
could not be seen from without. The walls and floor were covered
with thick green moss, as soft as velvet. There were low seats and
a round table, vessels of carved wood, a hearth inlaid with curious
stones, an oven, and a store chamber for provisions against the winter.
When they stepped in, the lady said—

“© A hundred years have I lived here, and my name is Lady
Greensleeves. No friend or servant have I had except my dwarf
Corner, who comes to me at the end of harvest with his handmill, his pan-
nier, and his axe: with these he grinds the nuts, and gathers the berries,
and cleaves the firewood, and blithely we live all the winter. But
Corner loves the frost and fears the sun, and when the topmost boughs
begin to bud, he returns to his country far in the north, so I am lonely
in the summer time.’

“ By this discourse the children saw how welcome they were. Lady
Greensleeves gave them deer’s milk and cakes of nut-flour, and soft
green moss to sleep on; and they forgot all their troubles, the wicked
stewards, and the straying swine. Early in the morning a troop of
does came to be milked, fairies brought flowers, and birds brought
berries, to show Lady Greensleeves what had bloomed and ripened
She taught the children to make cheese of the does’ milk, and wine of
the wood-berries. She showed them the stores of honey which wild



36 GRANNY S WONDERFUL CHAIR.










bees had made, and:

d left .in: chollow trees, the rarest plants of the forest,
and the herbs aa

1ade all. its.creattires tame.
Weoedwender and’ Loveleaves lived with her in
toil and care; and the children would have
oft shear no tidings: of their fathers. At last
| to fade@and* the flowers ‘to fall; Lady Greensleeves
cOming ; and che moonlight night she heaped
tre, and#set her door open, when Woodwender and
o: sleep, saying she expected some old friends
the forest.
‘Ot ‘quite so curious as her father, the Eon of the
: *she-kept awake to see what would happen; and
terribly frightened ‘the Tittle girl ‘was when in walked a great brown
“beat:
ei" Good evening, lady, said the ne
8 © «Good evening, bear, “Said: Lady Greensleeves. ‘What is the
“news in -your neighbourhéod ? Pe
= “©Not* much,’ said the bear ; ‘only the fawns are growing very
cunning+-one can’t catch aboye three i in a day.’
“ «© 'Bhat’s bad news,’ ssaic dy Greensleeves ; and immediately in
walked agreat wild cat.: S
St vening, lady,’
evening, cat,’
‘oatr neighbourhood +
“much, said the=























‘What is the











2G ies







ven BEE Good. evening, raven,’ said Lady
Greensleeves. “What is the news in your
“neighbourhood : =
““Not.much,’ said the raven; ‘only
aaa hundred years or so we shall be very
genteel and private—the trees will be so
thick?’

“* How. is that?’ said Lady Green-
sleeves. —

“*Oh!” said the raven, ‘have you not
_ heard how the king of the forest fairies laid
ds, ati were travelling through his dominions
hat weaves her own hair? T hey had thinned
tting firewood for the poor: so the king met





a spell on two noble
to see the old woman
his oaks every yea





‘
:
E
&
y





THE LORDS OF THE WHITE AND GREY CASTLES. 37

them in the likeness of a hunter, and asked them to drink out of his
oaken goblet, because the day was warm; and when the two lords
drank, they forgot their lands and their tenants, their castles and their
children, and minded nothing in all this world but the planting of acorns,
which they do day and night, by the power of the spell, in the heart of
the forest, and will never cease till some one makes them pause in
their work before the sun sets, and then the spell will be broken.’

«¢Ah!’ said Lady Greensleeves, ‘he is a great prince, that king of the
forest fairies; and there is worse work in the world than planting acorns.’

“ Soon after, the bear, the cat, and the raven, bade Lady Green-
sleeves good night. She closed the door, put out the light, and went
to sleep on the soft moss as usual.

“Tn the morning Loveleaves told Woodwender what she had heard,
and they went to Lady Greensleeves where she milked the does, and
said—

««We heard what the raven told last night, and we know the two
lords are our fathers: tell us how the spell may be broken !’

«“<«T fear the king of the forest fairies, said Lady Greensleeves,
‘because I live here alone, and have no friend but my dwarf Corner ;
but I will tell you what you may do. At the end of the path which
leads from this dell turn your faces to the north, and you will finda
narrow way sprinkled over with black feathers—keep that path, no
matter how it winds, and it will lead you straight to the ravens’
neighbourhood, where you will find your fathers planting acorns under
the forest trees. Watch till the sun is near setting, and tell them the
most wonderful things you know to make them forget their work ; but
be sure to tell nothing but truth, and drink nothing but running water,
or you will fall into the power of the fairy king’

“The children thanked her for this good council. She packed up
cakes and cheese for them in a bag of woven grass, and they soon found
the narrow way sprinkled over with black feathers. It was very long,
and wound through the thick trees in so many circles that the children
were often weary, and sat down to rest. When the night came, they
found a mossy hollow in the trunk of an old tree; where they laid them-
selves down, and slept all the summer night—for Woodwender and
Loveleaves never feared the forest. So they went, eating their cakes and
cheese when they were hungry, drinking from the running stream, and
sleeping in the hollow trees, till on the evening of the seventh day they
came into the ravens’ neighbourhood. The tall trees were laden with
nests and black with ravens. There was nothing to be heard but con-
tinual cawing; and ina great opening where the oaks grew thinnest, the
children saw their own fathers busy planting acorns. Lach lord had on
the velvet mantle in which he left his castle, but it was worn to rags



38 GRANNY S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

with rough work in the forest. Their hair and beards had grown long ;
their hands were soiled with earth; each had an old wooden spade,
and on all sides lay heaps of acorns. The children called them by their,
names, and ran to kiss them, each saying—‘ Dear father, come back to
your castle and your people!’ but the lords replied— .

“*We know of no castles and no people. There is nothing in all
this world but oak-trees and acorns.’

‘“Woodwender and Loveleaves told them of all their former state in
vain—nothing would make them pause fora minute: so the poor children
first sat down and cried, and then slept on the cold grass, for the sun
set, and the lords worked on. When they awoke it was broad day;
Woodwender cheered up his sister, saying —‘ We are hungry, and there
are still two cakes in the bag, let us share one of them—who knows
but something may happen ?’

“So they divided the cake, and ran to the lords, saying—‘ Dear
fathers, eat with us:’ but the lords said—

‘There is no use for meat or drink. Let us plant our acorns.’

“ Loveleaves and Woodwender sat down, and ate that cake in
great sorrow. When they had finished, both went to a stream hard by,
and began to drink the clear water with a large acorn shell; and as
they drank there came through the oaks a gay young hunter, his
mantle was green as the grass: about his neck there hung a crystal
bugle, and in his hand he carried a huge oaken goblet, carved with
flowers and leaves, and rimmed with crystal. Up to the brim it was
filled with milk, on which the rich cream floated; and as the hunter
came near, he said— Fair children, leave that muddy water, and come
and drink with me;’ but Woodwender and Loveleaves answered—

“«Thanks, good hunter; but we have promised to drink nothing
but running water.’ Still the hunter came nearer with his goblet,
saying —

“*The water is foul: it may do for swineherds and woodcutters,
but not for such fair children as you. Tell me, are you not the children
of mighty kings? Were you not reared in palaces?’ But the boy
and girl answered him—

““No: we were reared in castles, and are the children of yonder
lords; tell us how the spell that is upon them may be broken!’ and
immediately the hunter turned from them with an angry look, poured
out the milk upon the ground and went away with his empty goblet.

“ Loveleaves and Woodwender were sorry to see the rich cream
spilled, but they remembered Lady Greensleeves’ warning and seeing
they could do no better, each got a withered branch and began to help
the lords, scratching up the ground with the sharp end, and planting
acorns; but their fathers took no notice of them, nor all that they



THE LORDS OF THE WHITE AND GREY CASTLES. 39

could say; and when the sun grew warm at noon, they went again to
drink at the running stream. Then there came through the oaks an-
other hunter, older than the first, and clothed in yellow: about his
neck there hung a silver bugle, and in his hand he carried an oaken
goblet, carved with leaves and fruit, rimmed with silver, and filled with
mead to the brim. This hunter also asked them to drink, told them
the stream was full of frogs, and asked them if they were not a young
prince and princess dwelling in the woods for their pleasure? But
when Woodwender and Loveleaves answered as before--‘We have
promised to drink only running water, and are the children of yonder
lords: tell us how the spell may be broken !’—he turned from them
with an angry look, poured out the mead, and went his way.

“ All that afternoon the children worked beside their fathers, plant-
ing acorns with the withered branches; but the lords would mind
neither them nor their words. And when the .
evening drew near they were very hungry; so ;
the children divided their last cake, and when
no persuasion would make the lords eat with
them, they went to the banks of the stream,
and began to eat and drink, though their
hearts were heavy.

“ The sun was getting low, and the ravens
were coming home to their nests in the high
trees; but one, that seemed old and weary,
alighted near them to drink at the stream. As
they ate the raven lingered, and picked up the
small crumbs that fell.

“* Brother,’ said Loveleaves, ‘this raven is surely
hungry ; let us give it a little bit, though it is our last Fe
cake.’ ; . ¥

“ Woodwender agreed, and each gave a bit to the raven; but
its great bill finished the morsels in a moment, and hopping
nearer, it looked them in the face by turns.

“«The poor raven is still hungry,’ said Woodwender, and he gave
it another bit. When that was gobbled, it came to Loveleaves, who
gave it a bit too, and so on till the raven had eaten the whole of their
last cake.

‘““ Well,’ said Woodwender, ‘at least, we can have a drink.’ But
as they stooped to the water, there came through the oaks another
hunter, older than the last, and clothed in scarlet: about his neck there
hung a golden bugle, and in his hand he carried a huge oaken goblet,
carved with ears of corn and clusters of grapes, rimmed with gold, and
filled to the brim with wine. He also said—






40 GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

“¢ Leave this muddy water, and drink with me._ It is full of toads,
and not fit for such fair children. Surely ye are from fairyland, and
were reared in its queen’s palace!’ But the children said—

“We will drink nothing but this water, and yonder lords are our
fathers: tell us how the spell may be broken!’ And the hunter turned
from them with an angry look, poured out the wine on the grass, and
went his way. When he was gone, the old raven looked up into their
faces, and said—

“ may be broken. Yonder is the sun, going down behind yon western
trees. Before it sets, go to the lords, and tell them how their stewards
used you, and made you herd hogs for Hardhold and Drypenny.
When you see them listening, catch up their wooden spades, and keep
them if you can till the sun goes down.’

“ Woodwender and Loveleaves thanked the raven, and where it
flew they never stopped to see, but running to the lords began to tell
as they were bidden. At first the lords would not listen, but as the
childrén related how they had been made to sleep on straw, how they
had been sent to herd hogs in the wild pasture, and what trouble they
had with the unruly swine, the acorn planting grew slower, and at last
they dropped their spades.
Then Woodwender, catching
up his father’s spade, ran to
the stream and threw it in.
Loveleaves did the same for
g.- the Lord of the White Castle.
That moment the sun dis-
appeared behind the
western oaks, and the
lords stood up, looking,
like men just awoke, on
the forest, on the sky,
and on their children.

“So this strange
story has ended, for
Woodwender and
Loveleaves went home
rejoicing with their fathers.
Each lord returned to his
castle, and all their tenants
made merry. The fine toys and the silk clothes, the flower-gardens
and the best chambers, were taken from Hardhold and Drypenny, for
the lords’ children got them again; and the wicked stewards, with their


















THE LORDS OF THE WHITE AND GREY CASTLES. 41

cross boy and girl, were sent to herd swine, and live in huts in the
wild pasture, which everybody said became them better. The Lord of
the White Castle never again wished to see the old woman that wove
her own hair, and the Lord of the Grey Castle continued to be his
friend. As for Woodwender and Loveleaves, they met with no more
misfortunes, but grew up, and were married, and inherited the two
castles and the broad lands of their fathers. Nor did they forget the
lonely Lady Greensleeves, for it was known in the east country that
she and her dwarf Corner always came to feast with them in the
Christmas time, and at midsummer they always went to live with her
in the great oak in the forest.”

“Oh! mamma, if we had that oak!” said the Princess Greedalind.

“Where does it grow?” said Queen Wantall: but the chair was
silent, and a noble lord and lady, clad in green velvet, flowered with
gold, rose up and said—

“ That’s our story.”

“Excepting the tale of yesterday,” said King Winwealth, “I have
not heard such a story since my brother Wisewit went from me, and
was lost in the forest. Gaygarters, the sixth of my
pages, go and bring this maiden a pair of white silk
hose with golden clocks on them.”

Queen Wantall and Princess Greedalind at this
looked crosser than ever; but Gaygarters brought the
white silk hose, and Snowflower, having dropped her
courtesy, and taken her seat, was carried once more to
the kitchen where they gave her a mattress that night,
and next day she got the ends of choice dishes.

The feast, the music, and the dancing went on, so
did the envies within and the clamours without the
palace. In the evening King Winwealth fell again into low spirits
after supper, and a message coming down from the banquet hall, the
kitchen-maid told Snowflower to prepare herself, and go up with her
grandmother’s chair, for his majesty wished to hear another story.
Having washed her face and combed her hair, put on her scarlet shoes,
and her gold-clocked hose, Snowflower went up as before, seated in her
grandmother's chair; and after courtesying as usual to the king, the
queen, the princess, and the noble company, the little girl laid down
her head, saying—“ Chair of my grandmother, tell me a story ;” and
a clear voice from under the cushion said—

“Listen to the story of the Greedy Shepherd.”





CHAPTER V.

The Greedy POPPE

“cc

NCE upon a time -there lived in the south country two
brothers, whose business it was to keep sheep: on a great
grassy plain, which was bounded on the one side by a forest,
fo ba on the other Py a chain of high hills. No one lived on






. te were’“none among. them” hore ral. than these two
brothers, one of whom was calféd Clutch, and the akind. Though
brethren born, two men’ of. distant coutttties’ could” not be more unlike
in disposition. Clutch thought of nothing in this World but how to
catch and keep some profit for himself; while Kinet would have shared
his last morsel with a hungry dog. ° This vet
keep all his father’s sheep when thé old. i dead and gone,
because he was the eldest brother, allowing‘ Kind thing but the place
of a servant to help him in looking’ after them. Kifid Svouldn’ t quarrel
with his brother for the sake of the. sheep, so he helped him to keep
them, and-Clutch had all his own way;~ This made hith: agreeable.
For sometime the brothers“Tived peaceably in their fathér’s cottage,
which stood low and lonely wfi#ér the shadow’ ofa great sycamore- -tree,
and kept their flock with pipe and crook on, th srassy plain, till new
troubles arose through Clutch’s covetousness. «3-8 -
“On that plain thereivas neither. town, nor city, nor market a
where people might sell 6r buy BATHE all
The wool of their flocks mad
pues and cheese. ant feage tinh


















shearing € time, ceuee oie a certain ‘far-6Ff
aficient way to purchas® all the wo
give them-in exchange either goods or ones
“One midsummer it so poten that thes





we! ¥










THE GREEDY SHEPHERD. 43

the highest price for it. That was an unlucky happening for the sheep :
from thenceforth Clutch thought he could never get enough wool off
them. At the shearing time nobody clipped so close, and, in spite of
all Kind could do or say, he left the poor sheep as bare as if they had
been shaven ; and as soon as the wool grew
long enough to keep them warm, he was
ready with the shears again—no matter how
chilly might be the days, or how near the
winter. Kind didn’t like these doings, and
many a debate they caused between him
and his brother. Clutch always tried to
persuade him that close clipping was good
for the sheep, and Kind always strove to
make him think he had got all the wool—
so they were never done with disputes.
Still Clutch sold the wool, and stored up
his profits, and one midsummer after another
passed. The shepherds began to think
him a rich man, and close clipping might
have become the fashion, but for a strange
thing which happened to his flock.

“ The wool had grown well that summer.
He had taken two crops off them, and was
thinking of a third,—though the misty
mornings of autumn were come, and the
cold evenings made the shepherds put on
their winter cloaks,—when first the lambs,
and then the ewes, began to stray away; and search as the brothers
would, none of them was ever found again. Clutch blamed Kind with
being careless, and watched with all his might. Kind knew it was
not his fault, but he looked sharper than ever. Still the straying
went on. The flocks grew smaller every day, and all the brothers
could find out was, that the closest clipped were the first to go; and,
count the flock when they might, some were sure to be missed at the
folding.

“Kind grew tired of watching, and Clutch lost his sleep with
vexation. The other shepherds, over whom he had boasted of his
wool and his profits, were not sorry to see pride having a fall. Most
of them pitied Kind, but all of them agreed that they had marvellous
ill luck, and kept as far from them as they could for fear of sharing it.
Still the flock melted away as the months wore on. Storms and cold
weather never stopped them from straying, and when the spring came
back nothing remained with Clutch and Kind but three old ewes, the





44 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

quietest and lamest of their whole flock. They were watching these
ewes one evening, in the primrose time, when Clutch, who had never
kept his eyes off them that day, said—

«¢ Brother, there is wool to be
had on their backs.’

“<«Tt is too little to keep them
warm,’ said Kind. ‘ The east wind
still blows sometimes— but Clutch
was off to the cottage for the bag
and shears.

“ Kind was grieved to see his
brother so covetous, and to divert
his mind he looked up at the great
> hills: it was a sort of comfort to

2 Cee him, ever since their losses began,

to look at them evening and morn-

ing. Now their far-off heights were growing crimson with the setting

sun, but as he looked, three creatures like sheep scoured up a cleft in

one of them as fleet as any deer: and when Kind turned, he saw his

brother coming with the bag and shears, but not a single ewe was to

be seen. Clutch’s first question was, what had become of them; and

when Kind told him what he saw, the eldest brother scolded him with
might and main for ever lifting his eyes off them—

“¢Much good the hills and the sunset will do us,’ said he, ‘now
that we have not a single sheep. The other shepherds will hardly
give us room among them at shearing time or harvest; but for my
part, I'll not stay on this plain to be despised for poverty. If you like
to come with me, and be guided by my advice, we shall get service
somewhere. I have heard my father say that there were great shep-
herds living in old times beyond the hills; let us go and see if they
will take us for sheep-boys.’

“ Kind would rather have stayed. and tilled his father’s wheat-field,
hard by the cottage; but since his eldest brother would go, he resolved
to bear him company. Accordingly, next morning Clutch took his bag
and shears, Kind took his crook and pipe, and away they went over
the plain and up the hills. All who saw them thought that they had
lost their senses, for no shepherd had gone there for a hundred years,
and nothing was to be seen but wide moorlands, full of rugged rocks,
and sloping up, it seemed, to the very sky. Kind persuaded his brother
to take the direction the sheep had taken, but the ground was so rough
and steep that after two hours’ climbing they would gladly have turned
back, if it had not been that their sheep were gone, and the shepherds
would laugh at them.





THE GREEDY SHEPHERD. 45.

‘By noon they came to the stony cleft, up which the three old ewes
had scoured like deer; but both were tired, and sat down to rest.
Their feet were sore, and their hearts were heavy; but as they sat
there, there came a sound of music down the hills, as if a thousand
shepherds had been playing on their tops. Clutch and Kind had never
heard such music before. As they listened, the soreness passed from
their feet, and the heaviness from their hearts; and getting up, they
followed the sound up the cleft, and over a wide heath, covered with
purple bloom; till, at sunset, they came to the hill-top,and
saw a broad pasture, where violets grew thick among the
grass, and thousands of snow-white sheep were feeding,
while an old man sat in the midst of them, playing on his.
pipe. He wore a
long coat, the colour
of the holly leaves ;
his hair hung to his
waist, and his beard
to his knees; but
both were as white
as snow, and he had
the countenance of
one who had led a
quiet life, and known no cares nor losses.

“«Good father,’ said Kind, for his eldest brother hung back and
was afraid, ‘tell us what land is this, and where can we find service ;
for my brother and I are shepherds, and can well keep flocks from
straying, though we have lost cur own,’

«These are the hill pastures,’ said the old man, ‘and I am the
ancient shepherd. My flocks never stray, but I have employment for
you. Which of you can shear best ?’

“«Good father, said Clutch, taking courage, ‘I am the closest
shearer in all the plain country: you would not find as much wool as
would make a thread on a sheep when I have done with it.’

“«VYou are the man for my business,’ replied the old shepherd.
‘When the moon rises, I will call the flock you have to shear. Till
then sit down and rest, and take your supper out of my wallet.’

“Clutch and Kind gladly sat down by him among the violets, and,
opening a leathern bag which hung by his side, the old man gave them
cakes and cheese, and a horn cup to drink from at a stream hard by.
The brothers felt fit for any work after that meal; and Clutch rejoiced
in his own mind at the chance he had got for showing his skill with the
shears. ‘Kind will see how useful it is to cut close, he thought to
himself: but they sat with the old man, telling him the news of the




vg



46 GRANNY’S IVONDERFUL CHAIR.

plain, till the sun went down and the moon rose, and all the snow-white
sheep gathered and laid themselves down behind him. Then he took
his pipe and played a merry tune, when immediately there was heard
a great howling, and up the hills came a troop of shaggy wolves, with
hair so long that their eyes could scarcely be seen. Clutch would have
fled for fear, but the wolves stopped, and the old man said to him

“* Rise, and shear—this flock of mine have too much wool on them.’

“Clutch had never shorn wolves before, yet he couldn’t think of
losing the good service, and went forward with a stout heart; but the
first of the wolves showed its teeth, and all the rest raised such a how]
the moment he came near them, that Clutch was glad to throw down
his shears, and run behind the old man for safety—

“* Good father,’ cried he, ‘I will shear sheep, but not wolves.’

“«They must be shorn,’ said the old man, ‘or you go back to the
plains, and them after you; but whichever of you can shear them will
get the whole flock.’

“On hearing this, Clutch began to exclaim on his hard fortune,
and his brother who had brought him there to be hunted and devoured
by wolves ; but Kind, thinking that things could be no worse, caught
up the shears he had thrown away in his fright, and went boldly up to
the nearest wolf. To his great surprise, the wild creature seemed to
know him, and stood quietly to be shorn, while the rest of the flock
gathered round as if waiting their turn. Kind clipped neatly, but not
too close, as he had wished his brother to do with the sheep, and
heaped up the hair on one side. When he had done with one, another
came forward, and Kind went on shearing by the bright moonlight till
the whole flock were shorn. Then the old man said—

“* Ye have done well, take the wool and the flock for your wages,
return with them to the plain, and if you please, take this little-worth
brother of yours for a boy to keep them.’

“Kind did not much like keeping wolves, but before he could make
answer, they had all changed into the very sheep which had strayed
away so strangely. All of them had grown fatter and thicker of fleece,
and the hair he had cut off lay by his side, a heap of wool so fine and
soft that its like had never been seen on the plain.

“Clutch gathered it up in his empty bag, and glad was he to go
back to the plain with his brother ; for the old man sent them away
with their flock, saying no man might see the dawn of day on that
pasture but himself, for it was the ground of the fairies. So Clutch and
Kind went home with great gladness. All the shepherds came to hear
their wonderful story, and ever after liked to keep near them because
they had such good luck. They keep the sheep together till this day,
but Clutch has grown less greedy, and Kind alone uses the shears.”



THE GREEDY SHEPHERD. 47

With these words the voice ceased, and two shepherds, clad in
grass-green and crowned with garlands, rose up, and said—

“That’s our story.”

“Mamma,” said Princess Greedalind, “what a lovely playground
that violet pasture would make for me!”

“What wool could be had off all those snow-white sheep!” said
Queen Wantall: but King Winwealth said—

“Excepting yesterday's s tale, and the one that went before it, I have
not heard such a story as that since my brother Wisewit went from me,
and was lost in the forest. Spangledhose, the fifth of my pages, rise,
and bring this maiden a white satin gown.”

Snowflower took the white satin gown, thanked the king, courtseyed
to the good company, and went down on her chair to the best kitchen.
That night they gave her a new blanket, and next day she had a cold
pie for dinner. The music, the feast, and the spite continued within
the palace: so did the olamours without ; and his majesty, falling into
low spirits, as usual, after supper, one of the under cooks told Snow-
flower that a message had come down from the highest banquet hall for
her to go up with her grandmother's chair, and tell another story. Snow-
flower accordingly dressed herself in the red shoes, the gold-clocked
hose, and the white satin gown. All the company were glad to see her
and her chair coming, except the queen and the Princess Greedalind ;
and when the little girl had made her courtesy and laid down her head,
saying, “Chair of my grandmother, tell me a story,” the same clear
voice said—

“ Listen to the story of Fairyfoot.”



CHAPTER VI.

The Story of Fairyfoot.

town called Stumpinghame. It contained seven windmills,
a royal palace, a market place, and a prison, with every other
convenience befitting the capital of a kingdom. A capital
city was Stumpinghame, and its inhabitants thought it the only one in
the world. It stood in the midst of a great plain, which for three
leagues round its walls was covered with corn, flax, and orchards.
Beyond that lay a great circle of pasture land, seven leagues in breadth,
and it was bounded on all sides by a forest so thick and old that no
man in Stumpinghame knew its extent; and the opinion of the learned
was, that it reached to the end of the world.

“ There were strong reasons for this opinion. First, that forest was
known to be inhabited time out of mind by the fairies, and no hunter
cared to go beyond its borders—so all the west country believed it to
be solidly full of old trees to the heart. Secondly, the
people of Stumpinghame were no travellers—man,
woman, and child had feet so large and heavy that it

was by no means convenient to carry them far,

Whether it was the nature of the place or the
ce. = people, I cannot tell, but great feet had been
~~* the fashion there time immemorial, and the
higher the family the larger were they. It
was, therefore, the aim of everybody above
_ the degree of shepherds, and such-like
rustics, to swell out and enlarge their
feet by way of gentility; and so success-
ful were they in these undertakings that,
on a pinch, respectable people’s slippers
would have served for panniers.

“Stumpinghame had a king of its
own, and his name was Stiffstep; his
family was very ancient and large-footed.
His subjects called him Lord of the World, and he made a speech to
them every year concerning the grandeur of his mighty empire. His



i upon a time there stood far away in the west country a










THE STORY OF FAIR YFOOT. 49

queen, Hammerheel, was the greatest beauty in Stumpinghame. Her
majesty’s shoe was not much less than a fishing-boat ; their six children
promised to be quite as handsome, and all went well with them till the
birth of their seventh son.

“ For a long time nobody about the palace could understand what
was the matter—the ladies-in-waiting looked so astonished, and the
king so vexed ; but at last it was whispered through the city that the
queen’s seventh child had been born with such miserably small feet
that they resembled nothing ever seen or heard of in Stumpinghame,
except the feet of the fairies.

“The chronicles furnished no example of such an affliction ever
before happening in the royal family. The common people thought it
portended some great calamity to the city; the learned men began to
write books about it; and all the relations of the king and queen
assembled at the palace to mourn with them over their singular mis-
fortune. The whole court and most of the citizens helped in this mourn-
ing, but when it had lasted seven days they all found out it was of no
use. So the relations went to their homes, and the
people took to their work. If the learned men’s
books were written, nobody ever read them; and
to cheer up the queen’s spirits, the young prince
was sent privately out to the pasture lands, to be
nursed among the shepherds.

“The chief man there was called Fleece-
fold, and his wife’s name was Rough Ruddy.
They lived in a snug cottage with their
son Blackthorn, and their daughter Brown-
berry, and were thought great people, be-
cause they kept the king’s sheep. More-
over, Fleecefold’s family were known to be
ancient; and Rough Ruddy boasted that
she had the largest feet in all the pastures.
The shepherds held them in high respect,
and it grew still higher when the news
spread that the king’s seventh son had net
been sent to their cottage. People came
from all quarters to see the young prince, and great were the lamenta-
tions over his misfortune in having such small feet.

“The king and queen had given him fourteen names, beginning
with Augustus—such being the fashion in that royal family; but the
honest country people could not remember so many; besides, his feet
were the most remarkable thing about the child, so with one accord
they called him Fairyfoot. At first it was feared this might be high-






50 GRANNY S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

treason, but when no notice was taken by the king or his ministers, the
shepherds concluded it was no harm, and the boy never had another
name throughout the pastures. At court it was not thought polite to
speak of him at all. They did not keep his birthday, and he was never
sent for at Christmas, because the queen and her ladies could not bear
the sight. Once a year the undermost scullion was sent to see how he
did, with a bundle of his next brother’s cast-off clothes; and, as the
king grew old and cross, it was said he had thoughts of disowning him.

“So Fairyfoot grew in Fleecefold’s cottage. Perhaps the country
air made him fair and rosy—for all agreed that he would have been a
handsome boy but for his small feet, with which nevertheless he learned
to walk, and in time to run and to jump, thereby amazing everybody,
for such doings were not known among the children of Stumpinghame,
The news of court, however, travelled to the shepherds, and Fairyfoot
was despised among them. The old people thought him unlucky; the
children refused to play with him. Fleecefold was ashamed to have
him in his cottage, but he durst not disobey the king’s orders. More-
over, Blackthorn wore most of the clothes brought by the scullion. At
last, Rough Ruddy found out that the sight of such horrid jumping
would make her children vulgar; and, as soon as he was old enough,
she sent Fairyfoot every day to watch some sickly sheep that grazed on
a wild, weedy pasture, hard by the forest.

‘Poor Fairyfoot was often lonely and sorrowful ; many a time he
wished his feet would grow larger, or that people wouldn’t notice them
so much ; and all the comfort he had was running and jumping by him-
self in the wild pasture, and thinking that none of. the shepherds’
children could do the like, for all their pride of their great feet.

“Tired of this sport, he was lying in the shadow of
a mossy rock one warm summer's noon, with the sheep
feeding around, when a robin, pursued by a great hawk,
flew into the old velvet cap which lay on the ground beside
him. Fairyfoot covered it up, and the hawk, frightened
by his shout, flew away.

“* Now you may go, poor
robin!’ he said, opening the
cap; but instead of the bird,
out sprang a little man dressed
in russet-brown, and looking
as if he were an hundred years
old. Fairyfoot could not speak
for ‘astonishment, but the little man said—

““Thank you for your shelter, and be sure I will do as much for
you. Call on me if you are ever in trouble, my name is Robin Good-













THE STORY OF FAIR YVFOOT. 51

fellow ;’ and darting off, he was out of sight in an instant. For days
the boy wondered who that little man could be, but he told nobody,
for the little man’s feet were as small as his own, and it was clear he
would be no favourite in Stumpinghame. Fairyfoot kept the story to
himself, and at last midsummer came. That evening was a feast
among the shepherds. There were bonfires on the hills, and fun in the
villages. But Fairyfoot sat alone beside his sheepfold, for the children
of his village had refused to let him dance with them about the bonfire,
and he had gone there to bewail the size of his feet, which came between
him and so many good things. Fairyfoot had never felt so lonely in
all his life, and remembering the little man, he plucked up spirit, and
cried—

“* Hol! Robin Goodfellow!’

“* Here I am,’ said a shrill voice at his elbow; and there stood the
little man himself.

“*T am very lonely, and no one will play with me, because my feet
are not large enough,’ said Fairyfoot.

“ «Come then and play with us,’ said the little man. ‘We lead the
merriest lives in the world, and care for nobody’s feet; but all com-
panies have their own manners, and there are two things you must
mind among us: first, do as you see the rest doing; and secondly,
never speak of anything you may hear or see, for we and the people of
this country have had no friendship ever since large feet came in
fashion.

«J will do that, and anything more you like, said Fairyfoot; and
the little man taking his hand, led him over the pasture into the forest,
and along a mossy path among old trees wreathed with ivy (he never
knew how far), till they heard the sound of music, and came upon a
meadow where the moon shone as bright as day, and all the flowers
of the year—snowdrops, violets, primroses, and cowslips—bloomed
together in the thick grass. There were a crowd of little men and
women, some clad in russet colour, but far more in green, dancing
round a little well as clear as crystal. And under great rose-trees
which grew here and there in the meadow, companies were sitting
round low tables covered with cups of milk, dishes of honey, and carved
wooden flagons filled with clear red wine. The little man led Fairy-
foot up to the nearest table, handed him one of the flagons, and said—

“*Drink to the good company!’

“Wine was not very common among the shepherds of Stumping-
hame, and the boy had never tasted such drink as that before; for
scarcely had it gone down, when he forgot all his troubles—how Black-
thorn and Brownberry wore his clothes, how Rough Ruddy sent him to
keep the sickly sheep, and the children would not dance with him: in



52 GRANNY S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

short, he forgot the whole misfortune of his feet, and it seemed to his
mind that he was a king’s son, and all was well with him. All the
little people about the well cried—

‘““Welcome! welcome!’ and every one said—‘ Come and dance
with me!’ So Fairyfoot was as happy as a prince, and drank milk
and ate honey till the moon was low in the sky, and then the little man
took him by the hand, and never stopped nor stayed till he was at his
own bed of straw in the cottage corner.

“Next morning Fairyfoot was not tired for all his dancing. No-
body in the cottage had missed him, and he went out with the sheep as
usual ; but every night all that summer, when the shepherds were safe
in bed, the little man came and took him away to dance in the forest.
Now he did not care to play with the shepherds’ children, nor grieve
that his father and mother had forgotten him, but watched the sheep
all day singing to himself or plaiting rushes; and when the sun went
down, Fairyfoot’s heart rejoiced at the thought of meeting that merry
company.

“The wonder was that he was never tired nor sleepy, as people are
apt to be who dance all night; but before the summer was ended
Fairyfoot found out the reason. One night, when the moon was full,
and the last of the ripe corn rustling in the fields, Robin Goodfellow
came for him as usual, and away they went to the flowery green. The
fun there was high, and Robin was in haste. So he only pointed to
the carved cup from which Fairyfoot every night drank the clear red
wine.

“*Tam not thirsty, and there is no use losing time,’ thought the
boy to himself, and he joined the dance; but never in all his life did
Fairyfoot find such hard work as to keep pace with the company.
Their feet seemed to move like lightning; the swallows did not fly so
fast or turn so quickly. Fairyfoot did his best, for he never gave in
easily, but at length his breath and strength being spent, the boy was
glad to steal away, and sit down behind a mossy oak, where his eyes
closed for very weariness. When he awoke the dance was nearly
over, but two little ladies clad in green talked close beside him.

““What a beautiful boy!’ said one of them. ‘He is worthy to be
a king’s son. Only see what handsome feet he has!’

“*Yes,’ said the other, with a laugh that sounded spiteful; ‘they
are just like the feet Princess Maybloom had before she washed them
in the Growing Well. Her father has sent far and wide throughout
the whole country searching for a doctor to make them small again, but
nothing in this world can do it except the water of the Fair Fountain,
and none but I and the nightingales know where it is.’



THE STORY OF FAIR YFOOT. 53

“*One would not care to let the like be known,’ said the first little
lady : ‘there would come such crowds of these great coarse creatures
of mankind, nobody would have peace for leagues round. But you
will surely send word to the sweet princess!—she was so kind to our
birds and butterflies, and danced so like one of ourselves!’

“«Not I, indeed!’ said the spiteful fairy. ‘Her old skinflint of a
father cut down the cedar which I loved best in the whole forest, and
made a chest of it to hold his money in; besides, I never liked the
princess— everybody praised her so. But come, we shall be too late
for the last dance.’”





CHAPTER VII.

The Story of Ff atv ptoo t—(continued),

HEN they were gone, Fairyfoot could sleep no more with
astonishment. He did not wonder at the fairies admiring
his feet, because their own were much the same; but it
amazed him that Princess Maybloom’s father should be

troubled at hers growing large. Moreover, he wished to see that same

princess and her country, since there were really other places in the
world than Stumpinghame.

“When Robin Goodfellow came to take him home as usual he
durst not let him know that he had overheard anything; but never was
the boy so unwilling to get up as on that morning, and all day he was
So weary that in the afternoon Fairyfoot fell'asleep with his head on a
clump of rushes. It was seldom that any one thought of looking after
him and the sickly sheep ; but it so happened that towards evening the
old shepherd, Fleecefold, thought he would see how things went on in
the pastures. The shepherd had a bad temper and a thick staff, and
no sooner did he catch sight of Fairyfoot sleeping, and his flock stray-
ing away, than shouting all the ill
names he could remember, in a
voice which woke up the boy, he
ran after him as fast as his great
feet would allow; while Fairyfoot,
seeing no other shelter from his
fury, fled into the forest, and never
stopped nor stayed till he reached
the banks of a little stream.

“Thinking it might lead him
to the fairies’ dancing: ground, he
followed that stream for many an
hour, but it wound away into the
heart of the forest, flowing through

4 dells, falling over mossy rocks,

Boas and at last leading Fairyfoot, when

he was tired and the night had
fallen, to a grove of great rose-trees, with the moon shining on it as
bright as day, and thousands of nightingales singing in the branches.







THE STORY OF FATRYFOOT. 55

In the midst of that grove was a clear spring, bordered with banks of
lilies, and Fairyfoot sat down by it to rest himself and listen. The
singing was so sweet he could have listened for ever, but as he sat the
nightingales left off their songs, and began to talk together in the
silence of the night--

“«¢ What boy is that,’ said one on a branch above him, ‘ who sits so
lonely by the Fair Fountain? He cannot have come from Stumping-
hame with such small and handsome feet.’

“No, I'll warrant you, said another, ‘he has come from the west
country. How in the world did he find the way ?’

““ Flow simple you are!’ said a third nightingale. ‘What had he
to do but follow the ground-ivy which grows over height ard hollow,
bank and bush, from the lowest gate of the king’s kitchen-garden to the
root of this rose-tree? He looks a wise boy, and I hope he will keep
the secret, or we shall have all the west country here, dabbling in our
fountain, and leaving us no rest to either talk or sing.’

“ Fairyfoot sat in great astonishment at this discourse, but by and
by, when the talk ceased and the songs began, he thought it might be
as well for him to follow the ground-ivy, and see the Princess May-
bloom, not to speak of getting rid of Rough Ruddy, the sickly sheep,
and the crusty old shepherd. It was a long journey; but he went on,
eating wild berries by day, sleeping in the hollows of old trees by night,
and never losing sight of the ground-ivy, which led him over height
and hollow, bank and bush, out of the
forest, and along a noble high road, with
fields and villages on every side, to a great
city, and a low old-fashioned gate of the
king’s kitchen- garden, which was
thought too mean for the scullions,
and had not been opened for seven
years.

“There was no use knocking—the
gate was overgrown with tall weeds
and moss; so, being an active boy, he :
climbed over, and walked through the |;
garden, till a white fawn came frisking by,
and he heard a soft voice saying sorrow-
fully—

“*Come back, come back, my fawn! |
cannot run and play with you now, my feet have
grown so heavy ;’ and looking round he saw the loveliest young
princess in the world, dressed in snow-white, and wearing a wreath
of roses on her golden hair; but walking slowly, as the great people






56 GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHALR.

did in Stumpinghame, for her feet were as large as the best of
them.

“ After her came six young ladies, dressed in white and walking
slowly, for they could not go before the princess; but Fairyfoot was
amazed to see that their feet were as small as his own. At once he
guessed that this must be the Princess Maybloom, and made her an
humble bow, saying—

“* Royal princess, I have heard of your: trouble because your feet
have grown large: in my country that’s all the fashion. For seven
years past I have been wondering what would make mine grow, to no
purpose; but I know of a certain fountain that will make yours
smaller and finer than ever they. were, if the king, your father, gives
you leave to come with me, accompanied by two. of your maids that are
the least given to talking, and the most prudent officer in all his house-
hold; for it would grievously offend the fairies and the nightingales to
make that fountain known.’

‘When the princess heard that; she danced for j joy in spite of her large
feet, and she and her six maids brought Fairyfoot before the king and
queen, where they sat in their yalace hall, with all the courtiers. pay-
ing their morning compliments.* “Fhe lords were very much astonished
to see a ragged, bare-footed brought in among them, and the
ladies thought Princess Maybloom'mitist have gone mad; but Fairyfoot,
making an humble reverence; hes] His‘ message to.the king and queen,
and offered to set out with the princess that very day. “At first the
king ond not believe neat there could be any use in his offer, because
xd.failed to: ‘give any relief. The courtiers
the pane wanted to turn him out for an












impudent impostor, ; rand: ‘the
death for high- tre —





cen, ae a prudent woman, said—
‘Notice What fine feet this boy has. There
y. .Eor the sake of our only daughter, I
will choose t vO. rail who talk the least of all our train, and my éiniber:
lain, who is the most discreet officer: in our household: Let them go
with the princess : who knows Bue: our sorrow may be lessened ?’

Bee,

advised the contrary. So the tivo: “silent maids, the discreet chamber-
lain, and her fawn, which would. not stay behind, were sent with Princess
Maybloom, and they all set out after dinner. Fairyfoot had hard work
guiding them along the track of the ground-ivy. The maids and
the chamberlain did not like the brambles and rough roots of the forest
—they thought it hard to eat berries and sleep in hollow trees ; but the



dees
pape ell
= ERR





THE STORY OF FAIR VFOOF 57

Princess went on with good courage, and at last they reached the grove
of rose-trees, and the spring bordered with lilies.

“The chamberlain washed—and though his hair had been grey, and
his face wrinkled, the young courtiers envied his beauty for years after,
The maids washed—and from that day they were esteemed the fairest
in all the palace. Lastly, the princess washed also—it could make her
no fairer, but the moment her feet touched the water they grew less,
and when she had washed and dried them three times, they were as
small and finely-shaped as Fairyfoot’s own. There was great joy
among them, but the boy said sorrowfully—

““Oh! if there had been a well in the world to make my feet large,
my father and mother would not have cast me off, nor sent me to live
among the shepherds.’

“*Cheer up your heart, said the Princess Maybloom; ‘if you want
large feet, there is a well in this forest that will do it. Last summer
time, I came with my father and his foresters to see a great cedar cut
down, of which he meant to make a money chest. While they were
busy with the cedar, I saw a bramble branch covered with berries,
Some were ripe and some were green, but it was the longest bramble
that ever grew ; for the sake of the berries, I went on and on to its
root, which grew hard by a muddy-looking well, with banks of dark
green moss, in the deepest part of the forest. The day was warm and
dry, and my feet were sore with the rough ground, so I took off m
scarlet shoes, and washed my feet in the well: but as I washed they
grew larger every minute, and nothing could ever make them less again.
I have seen the bramble this day; it is not far off, and as you have
shown me the Fair Fountain, I will show you the Growing Well.’

“Up rose Fairyfoot and Princess Maybloom, and went together till
they found the bramble, and came to where its root grew, hard by the
muddy-looking well, with banks of dark green moss in the deepest dell
of the forest. Fairyfoot sat down to wash, but at that minute he heard
a sound of music, and knew it was the fairies going to their dancing
ground.

“*If my feet grow large,’ said the boy to himself, ‘how shall I dance
with them ?’ So, rising quickly, he took the Princess Maybloom by the
hand. The fawn followed them; the maids and the chamberlain
followed it, and all followed the music through the forest. At last they
came to the flowery green. Robin Goodfellow welcomed the company
for Fairyfoot’s sake, and gave every one a drink of the fairies’ wine.
So they danced there from sunset till the grey morning, and nobody
was tired; but before the lark sang, Robin Goodfellow took them ail
safe home, as he used to take Fairyfoot.

“ There was great joy that day in the palace because Princess May-

D



58 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHALK.

bloom’s feet were made small again. The king gave Fairyfoot all
manner of fine clothes and rich jewels; and when they heard his
wonderful story, he and the queen asked him to live with them and be
their son. In process of time Fairyfoot and Princess Maybloom were
married, and still live happily. When they go to visitat Stumpinghame,
they always wash their feet in the Growing Well, lest the royal family
might think them a disgrace, but when they come baek,-they make haste
to the Fair Fountain; and the fairies and the nightingales are great
friends to them, as well as the maids and the chamberlain, because they
have told nobody about it, and there is peace. and quiet.yet in the grove
of rose-trees.” os et



Here the voice out of the cushion ceased; and”
of gold, and were clothed in cloth:9f silvery.rose.
“That’s our story.” a6 82500 0 Ss nae eatethon be 0 ha Wd
“Mamma,” said Prirfcess: Greedalind.. “if we -couldefind. out that
Fair Fountain, and keepsit all.to Giieelves 2" we er ee
“Yes, my daughter, and the Growing Well to-wash our money in,”
replied Queen Wantall : but King Winwealth said—~
“ Excepting yesterday's tale, and the two that went before it, I have
©" not heard such a story since my brother Wisewit
went from me, and was lost in the forest. Silver-
spurs, the fourth of my pages, go and bring this
- maiden a-pearl necklace.” a
Snowflower received the necklace accordingly,
oo gave her thanks, made her courtesy, and. went down
ete on her grandmother’s chair to the servants’: hall.
That night they gave her a down pillow, and next day she dined
on a roast.clticken. The feasting within and the clamour with-
out went on’?as the days before: King Winwealth fellieinto. his
accustémedlow,-spirits after supper, and sent down a message for
Snowflower, whi@avas told her by the master-cook. So the little girl
went up in her grat mother’s chair, with red shoes, the clocked hose,
the white satin gown, and the pearl necklace on. All the company
welcomed her with joyful looks, and no sooner had .she made her
courtesy, and laid down her head, saying—* Chair,of my*grandmother,
tell me a story,” than, the. cleat. voice from under.the cushion said—
‘“Listen.to the story of Childe Charity.” op ee

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CHAPTER VIII.
The Story of Childe Charity.

a NCE upon a time, there lived in the west country a little girl
who had neither father nor mother; they both died when
she was very young, and left their daughter to the care of
her uncle, who was the richest farmer in all that country. He
had houses and lands, flocks and herds, many servants to work about his
house and fields, a wife who had brought him a great dowry, and two
fair daughters. All their neighbours, being poor, looked up to the
family—insomuch that they imagined themselves great people. The
father and mother were as proud as peacocks; the daughters thought
themselves the greatest beauties in the world, and not one of the
family would speak civilly to anybody they thought low.

“ Now it happened that though she was their near relation, they
had this opinion of the orphan girl, partly because she had no fortune,
and partly because of her humble, kindly disposition. It was said that
the more needy and despised any creature was, the more ready was
she to befriend it: on which
account the people of the west ae
country called her Childe Charity,
and if she had any other name,
IT never heard it. Childe Charity
was thought very mean in that
proud house. Her uncle would
not own her for his niece; her
cousins would not keep her com-
pany; and her aunt sent her to
work in the dairy, and to sleep
in the back garret, where they
kept all sorts of lumber and dry
herbs for the winter. All the
servants learned the same tune,
and Childe Charity had more :
work than rest among them. All the day she scoured pails, scrubbed
dishes, and washed crockeryware; but every night she slept in the
back garret as sound as a princess could in her palace chamber







€o GRANNY’S IVONDERFUL CHAIR.

‘Her uncle’s house was large and white, and stood among green
meadows by a river’s side. In front it had a porch covered with a
vine; behind, it had a farmyard and high granaries. Within, there
were two parlours for the rich, and two kitchens for the poor, which
the neighbours thought wonderfully grand; and one day in the harvest
season, when this rich farmer's corn had been all cut down and housed,
he condescended so far as to invite them to a harvest supper. The
west country people came in their holiday clothes and best behaviour.
Such heaps of cakes and cheese, such baskets of apples and barrels of
ale, had never been at feast before; and they were making merry in
kitchen and parlour, when a poor old woman came to the backdoor,
begging for broken victuals anda night’s lodging. Her clothes were
coarse and ragged; her hair was scanty and grey; her back was bent;
her teeth were gone. She had a squinting eye, a clubbed foot, and
crooked fingers. In short, she was the poorest and ugliest old woman
that ever came begging. The first who saw her was the kitchen-maid,
and she ordered her to be gone for an ugly witch. The next was the
herd-boy, and he threw her a bone over his shoulder; but Childe
Charity, hearing the noise, came out from her seat at the foot of the
lowest table, and asked the old woman to take her share of the supper,
and sleep that night in her bed in the back garret. The old woman
sat down without a word of thanks. All the company laughed at
Childe Charity for giving her bed and her supper to a beggar. Her
proud cousins said it was just like her mean spirit, but Childe Charity
did not mind them. She scraped the pots for her supper that night,
and slept on a sack among the lumber, while the old woman rested in
her warm bed; and next morning, before the little girl awoke, she was
up and gone, without so much as saying thank you, or good morning.

“That day all the servants were sick after the feast, and mostly
cross too—so you may judge how civil they were; when, at supper
time, who should come to the backdoor but the old woman, again
asking for broken victuals and a night’s lodging. No one would listen
to her or give her a morsel, till Childe Charity rose from her seat at
the foot of the lowest table, and kindly asked her to take her supper,
and sleep in her bed in the back garret. Again the old woman sat
down without a word. Childe Charity scraped the pots for her supper,
and slept on the sack. In the morning the old woman was gone; but
for six nights after, as sure as the supper was spread, there was she at
the backdoor, and the little girl regularly asked her in

“Childe Charity’s aunt said she would let her get enough of
beggars. Her cousins made continual game of what they called her
genteel visitor. Sometimes the old woman said, ‘Child why don’t
you make this bed softer? and why are your blankets so thin?’ but



THE STORY OF CHILDE CHARITY. 6r

she never gave her a word of thanks nor a civil good morning. At
last, on the ninth night from her first coming, when Childe Charity
was getting used to scrape the pots and sleep on the sack, her
accustomed knock came to the door, and there she stood with an
ugly ashy-coloured dog, so stupid-looking and clumsy that

no herd-boy would keep him.

“*Good evening, my little girl,” she said when Childe
Charity opened the door, ‘1 will, not have
your supper and bed to-night—I am going
on a long journey to see a friend ; but here
is a dog of mine, whom nobody in all the
west country will keep for me. .He is a
little cross, and not very handsome ; but I
leave him to your care till the shortest day
in all the year. Then you and I will
count for his keeping.’

“When the old woman had said
the last word, she set off with such
speed that Childe Charity lost sight
of her in a minute. The ugly dog
began to fawn upon her, but he
snarled at everybody else. The
servants said he was a_ disgrace
to the house. The proud cousins
wanted him drowned, and it was with great trouble that Childe Charity
got leave to keep him in an old ruined cow-house. Ugly and cross as
the dog was, he fawned on her, and the old woman had left him to her
care. So the little girl gave him part of all her meals, and when the
hard frost came, took him privately to her own back garret, because the
cow-house was damp and cold in the long nights. The dog lay quietly
on some straw in a corner. Childe Charity slept soundly, but every
morning the servants would say to her—

«What great light and fine talking was that in your back garret ?’

“«There was no light but the moon shining in through the shutter-
less window, and no talk that I heard,’ said Childe Charity, and she
thought they must have been dreaming ; but night after night, when
any of them awoke in the dark and silent hour that comes before the
morning, they saw a light brighter and clearer than the Christmas fire,
and heard voices like those of lords and ladies in the back garret.

“Partly from fear, and partly from laziness, none of the servants
would rise to see what might be there; till at length, when the winter
nights were at the longest, the little parlour maid, who did least work
and got most favour, because she gathered news for her mistress, crept
out of bed when all the rest were sleeping, and set herself to watch at





62 GRANNY S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

a crevice of the door. She saw the dog lying quietly in the corner,
Childe Charity sleeping soundly in her bed, and the moon shining
through the shutterless window; but an hour before daybreak there
came a glare of lights, and a sound of
far-off bugles. The window opened,
and in marched a troop of little men
clothed in crimson and gold, and bear-
ing every man a torch, till the room
looked bright as day. They marched
up with great reverence to the dog,
where he lay on the straw, and the
most richly clothed among them
said—

“* Royal prince, we have pre-
pared the banquet hall. What will
your highness please that we do
next ?’

““Ye have done well,’ said the
dog.. ‘Now prepare the feast, and

* see that all things be in our first

fashion : for the princess and I mean
to bring a stranger who never feasted in our halls before.’

‘Your highness’s commands shall be obeyed,’ said the little man,
making another reverence; and he and his company passed out of the
window. By and by there was another glare of lights, and a sound
like far-off flutes. The window opened, and there came in a company
of little ladies clad in rose-coloured velvet, and carrying each a crystal
lamp. They also walked with great reverence up to the dog, and the
gayest among them said—

“* Royal prince, we have prepared the tapestry. What will your
highness please that we do next ??

“*Ye have done well, said the dog. ‘ Now prepare the robes, and
let all things be in our first fashion: for the princess and I will bring
with us a stranger who never feasted in our halls before.’

““Your highness’s commands shall be obeyed,’ said the little lady,
making a low courtesy; and she and her company passed out through
the window, which closed quietly behind them.” The dog stretched
himself out upon the straw, the little girl turned in her sleep, and the
moon shone in on the back garret. The parlour-maid was so much
amazed, and so eager to tell this great story to her mistress, that she
could not close her eyes that night, and was up before cock-crow; but
when she told it, her mistress called her a silly wench to have such
foolish dreams, and scolded her so that the parlour-maid durst not





THE STORY OF CHILDE CHARITY. 63

mention what she had seen to the servants. Nevertheless Childe
Charity’s aunt thought there might be something in it worth knowing ;
so next night, when all the house were asleep, she crept out of bed, and
set herself to watch at the back garret door. There she saw exactly
what the maid told her—the little men with the torches, and the little
ladies with the crystal lamps, come in making great reverence to the dog,
and the same words pass, only he said to the one, ‘ Now prepare the
presents, and to the other, ‘Prepare the jewels ;’ and when they were
gone the dog stretched himself on the straw, Childe Charity turned in
her sleep, and the moon shone in on the back garret.

“The mistress could not close her eyes : ny more than the maid
from eagerness to tell the story. She woke up Childe Charity’s rich
uncle before cock-crow ; but when he heard it, he laughed at her for a
foolish woman, and advised her not to repeat the like before the neigh-
bours, lest they should think she
had lost her senses. The mistress i
could say no more, and the day aq
passed; but that night the master 4
thought he would like to see what
went on in the back garret: so
when all the house were asleep he
slipped out of bed, and set him-
self to watch at the crevice in the
door. The same thing happened
again that the maid and the
mistress saw: the little men in
crimson with their torches, and
the little ladies in rose-coloured
velvet with their lamps, came in
at the window, and made an
humble reverence to the ugly dog,
the one saying, ‘ Royal prince, we
have prepared the presents, and the other, ‘Royal prince, we have
prepared the jewels ;’ and the dog said to them all, ‘Ye have done
well. To-morrow come and meet me and the princess with horses and
chariots, and let all things be in our first fashion: for we will bring
a stranger from this house who has never travelled with us, nor feasted
in our halls before.’

“The little men and the little ladies said, ‘ Your highness’s com-
mands shall be obeyed.” When they had gone out through the
window, the ugly dog stretched himself out on the straw, Childe
Charity turned in her sleep, and the moon shone in on the back garret.

“The master could not close his eyes any more than the maid or





64 GRANNY'’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

the mistress, for thinking of this strange sight. .He remembered to have
heard his grandfather say, that somewhere near his meadows there lay
a path leading to the fairies’ country, and the haymakers used to see it
shining through the grey summer morning as the fairy bands went
home. Nobody had heard or seen the like for many years; but the
master concluded that the doings in his back garret must be a fairy
business, and the ugly dog a person of great account. His chief
wonder was, however, what visitor the fairies intended to take from his
house; and after thinking the matter over, he was sure it must be one of
his daughters—they were so handsome, and had such fine clothes.

“ Accordingly, Childe Charity’s rich
uncle made it his first business that
morning to get ready a breakfast of
roast mutton for the ugly dog, and
carry it to him in the old cow-house ;
but not a morsel would the dog taste.
On the contrary, he snarled at the
master, and would have bitten him if
he had not run away with his mutton.

“ «The fairies have strange ways,’
said the master to himself; but he
called his daughters privately, bidding them dress themselves in
their best, for he could not say which of them might be called into
great company before nightfall. Childe Charity’s proud cousins,
hearing this, put on the richest of their silks and laces, and strutted
like peacocks from kitchen to parlour all day, waiting for the call their
father spoke of, while the little girl scoured and scrubbed in the dairy.
They were in very bad humour when night fell, and nobody had come ;
but just as the family were sitting down to supper the ugly dog began
to bark, and the old woman’s knock was heard at the backdoor.
Childe Charity opened it, and was going to offer her bed and supper as
usual, when the old woman said—

“This is the shortest day in all the year, and I am going home to
hold a feast after my travels. I see you have taken good care of my
dog, and now if you will come with me to my house, he and I will do
our best to entertain you. Here is our company.’

“ As the old woman spoke, there was a sound of far-off flutes and
bugles, then a glare of lights; and a great company, clad so grandly
that they shone with gold and jewels, came in open chariots, covered
with gilding and drawn by snow-white horses. The first and finest of
the chariots was empty. The old woman led Childe Charity to it by
the hand, and the ugly dog jumped in before her. The proud cousins,
in all their finery, had by this time come to the door, but nobody









THE STORY OF CHILDE CHARITY. 65

wanted them; and no sooner was the old woman and her dog within
the chariot than a marvellous change passed over them, for the ugly
old woman turned at once to a beautiful young princess, with long
yellow curls and a robe of green and gold, while the ugly dog at her
side started up a fair young prince, with nut-brown hair and a robe of
purple and silver.

«We are, said they, as the chariots drove on, and the little girl sat
astonished, ‘a prince and princess of Fairyland, and there was a wager
between us whether or not there were good people still to be found in
these false and greedy times. One said Yes, and the other said No;
and I have lost,’ said the prince, ‘and must pay the feast and presents.’

“ Childe Charity never heard any more of that story. Some of the
farmer’s household, who were looking after them through the moonlight
night, said the chariots had gone
one way across the meadows,
some said they had gone another,
and till this day they
cannotagree upon the ~.
direction. But Childe
Charity went with
that noble com-
pany into acountry
such as she had
never seen — for
primroses covered
all the ground, and a
the light was al-
ways like that of
a summer evening. They took her
to a royal palace, where there was
nothing but feasting and dancing for seven days. She had robes of
pale green velvet to wear, and slept in a chamber inlaid with ivory.
When the feast was done, the prince and princess gave her such heaps
of gold and jewels that she could not carry them, but they gave her a
chariot to go home in, drawn by six white horses; and on the seventh
night, which happened to be Christmas time, when the farmer’s family
had settled in their own minds that she would never come back,
and were sitting down to supper, they heard the sound of her coach-
man’s bugle, and saw her alight with all the jewels and gold at the very
backdoor where she had brought in the ugly old woman. The fairy
chariot drove away, and never came back to that farmhouse after. But
Childe Charity scrubbed and scoured no more, for she grew a great
lady, even in the eyes of her proud cousins.”







66 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

Here the voice out of the cushion ceased, and one, with a fair face
and a robe of pale green velvet, rose from among the company, and
said—

“That's my story.”

“ Mamma,” said Princess Greedalind,
“if we had some of those fine chariots !”

“Yes, my daughter,” answered Queen
Wantall, ‘and the gold and jewels too!”
But King Winwealth said—

“Excepting yesterday's story, and the
three that went before it, I have not heard
such a tale since my brother Wisewit went
from me, and was lost in the forest. High-
jinks, the third of my pages, go and bring
this maiden a crimson velvet hat.”

Snowflower took the hat and thanked

the king, made her courtesy, and went

down on her grandmother's chair to the
7 housekeeper’s parlour. Her blanket
““. was covered with a patchwork quilt

that night; next day she had roast
turkey and meat for dinner. But the feast
went on in the palace hall with the usual
spites and envies; the clamour and complaints at the gate were still
heard above all the music; and King Winwealth fell into his wonted
low spirits as soon as the supper was over. As usual, a message
came down from the banquet hall, and the chief-butler told Snow-
flower that she and her chair were wanted to tell King Winwealth a
story. So she went up with all the presents on, even to the crimson
hat, made her courtesy to the good company, and had scarcely said,
“Chair of my grandmother, tell mea story,” when the voice from under
the cushion said—

“ Listen to the story of Sour and Civil.”





CHAPTER IX.

Sour and Civil.

a NCE upon a time there stood upon the sea-coast of the west
we country a certain hamlet of low cottages, where no one lived
WS but fishermen. All round it was a broad beach of snow-white
sand, where nothing was to be seen but gulls and cormorants,
and long tangled seaweeds cast up by the tide that came and went
night and day, summer and winter. There was no harbour nor port
on all that shore. Ships passed by at a distance, with their white
sails set, and on the land-side
there lay wide grassy downs,
where peasants lived and shep-
herds fed their flocks. The
fishermen thought themselves
as well off as any people in
that country. Their families
never wanted for plenty of
herrings and mackerel; and
what they had to spare the
landsmen bought from them at
certain village markets on the
downs, giving them in ex-
change butter, cheese, and
corn.

“The two best fishermen
in that village were the sons of two old widows, who had no other
children, and happened to be near neighbours. Their family names
were short, for they called the one Sour, and the other Civil. There
was no relationship between them that ever I heard of ; but they had
only one boat, and always fished together, though their names expressed
the difference of their humours — for Civil never used a hard word
where a soft one would do, and when Sour was not snarling at some-
body, he was sure to be grumbling at everything.

“Nevertheless they agreed wonderfully, and were lucky fishers.
Both were strong, active, and of good courage. On winter’s night or
summer's morning they would steer out to sea far beyond the boats
of their neighbours, and never came home without some fish to cook







68 GRANNY’ S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

and some to spare. Their mothers were proud of them, each in her
own fashion—for the saying held good, ‘Like mother, like son.’
Dame Civil thought the whole world didn’t hold a better than her son;
and her boy was the only creature at whom Dame Sour didn’t scold
and frown. The hamlet was divided in opinion concerning the young
fishermen. Some thought Civil the best; some said, without Sour. he
would catch nothing. So things went on, till one day about the fall
of winter, when mists were gathering darkly on sea and sky, and the
air was chill and frosty, all the boatmen of the hamlet went out to
fish, and so did Sour and Civil.

“That day they had not their usual luck. Cast their net where
they would, not a single fish came in. Their neighbours caught
boatsful, and went home, Sour said, laughing at them. But when the
sea was growing crimson with the sunset their nets were empty, and
they were tired. Civil himself did not like to go home without fish—
it would damage the high repute they had gained in the village.
Besides, the sea was calm and the evening fair, and, as a last attempt,
they steered still further out, and cast their nets beside a rock which
rose rough and grey above the water, and was called the Merman’s
Seat—from an old report that the fishermen’s fathers had seen the
mermen, or sea-people, sitting there on moonlight nights. Nobody
believed that rumour now, but the villagers did not like to fish there.
The water was said to be deep beyond measure, and sudden squalls
were apt to trouble it; but Sour and Civil were right glad to see by
the moving of their lines that there was something in their net, and
gladder still when they found it so heavy that all their strength was
required to draw it up. Scarcely had they landed it on the Merman’s
Seat, when their joy was changed to disappointment, for besides a few
starved mackerel, the net contained nothing but a monstrous ugly
fish as long as Civil (who was taller than Sour), with a huge,snout,
a long beard, and a skin covered with prickles.

“ Such a horrid ugly creature!’ said Sour, as they shook it out of
the net on the rough rock, and gathered up the mackerel. ‘We
needn't fish here any more. How they will mock us in the village for
staying out so late, and bringing home so little ! ’

“*QLet us try again,’ said Civil, as he set his creel of mackerel in
the boat.

“Not another cast will I make to-night;’ and what more Sour
would have said, was cut short by the great fish, for, looking round at
them, it spoke out—

“*T suppose you don’t think me worth taking home in your dirty
boat; but I can tell you that if you were down in my country, neither
of you would be thought fit to keep me company.’







SOUR AND CIVIL. 69

“Sour and Civil were terribly astonished to hear the fish speak.
The first could not think of a cross word to say, but Civil made answer
in his accustomed manner.

“Indeed, my lord, we beg your pardon, but our boat is too light to
carry such a fish as you.’

“*Vou do well to call me lord, said the fish, ‘for so I am, though it
was hard to expect you could have known my quality in this dress.
However, help me off the rock, for I must go home; and for your
civility I will give you my daughter in marriage, if you will come and
see me this day twelvemonth.

“ Civil helped the great fish off the rock as respectfully as his fear
would allow him. Sour was so terrified at the whole transaction, that
he said not a word till they got safe home; but from that day forward,
when he wanted to put Civil down, it was his custom to tell him and
his mother that he would get no wife but the ugly fish’s daughter.

“Old Dame Sour heard this story from her son, and told it over the
whole village. Some people wondered, but the most part laughed at it
as a good joke; and Civil and his mother were never known to be
angry but on that occasion. Dame Civil advised her son never to fish
with Sour again; and as the boat happened to be his, Civil got an old
skiff which one of
the fishermen was
going to break up
for firewood, and
cobbled it up for
himself.

“In that skiff
hewent to sea alone
all the winter, and
all the summer:
but, though Civil
was brave and skil-
ful, he could catch
little, because his
boat was bad—and
_ everybody but his
mother began to
think him of no
value. Sour having the good boat got a new comrade, and had the
praise of being the best fisherman.

“Poor Civil’s heart was getting low as the summer wore away.
The fish had grown scarce on that coast, and the fishermen had to steer
further out to sea. One evening when he had toiled all day and caught





70 GRANNY'’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

nothing, Civil thought he would go further too, and try his fortune
beside the Merman’s Rock. The sea was calm, and the evening fair
Civil did not remember that it was the very day on which his troubles
began by the great fish talking to him twélve months before. As he
neared the rock the sun was setting, and much astonished was the
fisherman to see standing upon it three fair ladies, with sea-green gowns
and strings of great pearls wound round their long fair hair; two of
them were waving their hands to him. They were the tallest and
stateliest ladies he had ever seen; but Civil could perceive as he came
nearer that there was no colour in their cheeks, that their hair had a
strange bluish shade, like that of deep sea-water, and there was a fiery
light in their eyes that frightened him. The third, who was less of
stature, did not notice him at all, but kept her eyes fixed on the setting
sun. Though her look was mournful, Civil could see that there was a
faint rosy bloom on her cheek—that her hair was a golden yellow, and
her eyes were mild and clear like those of his mother.

“*“Welcome! welcome! noble fisherman!’ cried the two ladies.
‘Our father has sent us for you to visit him,’ and with one bound they
leaped into his boat, bringing with them the smaller lady, who said—

“*Oh! bright sun and brave sky that I see so seldom!’ But Civil
heard no more, for his boat went down miles deep in the sea, and he
thought himself drowning ; but one lady had caught him by the right
arm, and the other by the left, and pulled him into the mouth of a rocky
cave, where there was no water. On they went, still down and down,
as if on a steep hill-side) The cave was very long, but it grew
wider as they came to the bottom. Then Civil saw a faint light, and
walked out with his fair company into the country of the s€a-people.
In that land there grew neither grass nor flowers, bushes nor trees, but
the ground was covered with bright-coloured shells and pebbles.
There were hills of marble, and rocks of spar ; and over all a cold blue
sky, with no sun, but a light clear and silvery as that of the harvest
moon. The fisherman could see no ‘smoking chimneys, but there were
grottoes in the sparry rocks, and halls in the marble hills, where lived
the sea-people—with whom, as old _ stories say, fishermen and
mariners used to meet on lonely capes and headlands in the simple
times of the world.

“Forth they came in all directions to see the stranger. Mermen
with long white beards, and mermaids such as walk with the fishermen,
all clad in sea-green, and decorated with strings of pearls; but every
one with the same colourless face, and the same wild light in their eyes,
The mermaids led Civil up one of the marble hills to a great cavern
with halls and chambers like a palace. Their floors were of alabaster,
their walls of porphyry, and their ceilings inlaid with coral. Thousands



SOUR AND CIVIE. 71

of crystal lamps lit the palace. There were seats and tables hewn out
of shining spar, and a great company sat feasting; but what most
amazed Civil was the quantity of cups, flagons, and goblets, made of
gold and silver, of such different shapes and patterns that they seemed
to have been gathered from all the countries in the world. In the
chief hall there sat a merman on a stately chair,

with more jewels than all the rest about him.
Before him the mermaids brought Civil, say-
ing—

««¢ Father, here is our guest.’

“Welcome, noble fisherman!’ cried the
merman, in a voice which Civil remembered
with terror, for it was that of the great ugly
fish; ‘welcome to our halls! Sit down and
feast with us, and then choose which of my
daughters you will have for a bride.’

“Civil had never felt himself so
thoroughly frightened in all his life.
How was he to get home to his
mother? and what would the old
dame think when the dark night
came without bringing him home? ;
There was no use in talking—Civil oF
had wisdom enough to see that: he
therefore tried to take things quietly; and, having thanked the merman
for his invitation, took the seat assigned him on his right hand. Civil
was hungry with the long day at sea, but there was no want of fare on
that table: meats and wines, such as he had never tasted, were set
before him in the richest of golden dishes; but, hungry as he was, the
fisherman perceived that everything there had the taste and smell of
the sea.

“Tf the fisherman had been the lord of lands and castles he could
not have been treated with more respect. The two mermaids sat by
him—one filled his plate, another filled his goblet; but the third only
looked at him in a stealthy, warning way when nobody perceived her.
Civil soon finished his share of the feast, and then the merman showed
him all the splendours of his cavern. The halls were full of company,
some feasting, some dancing, and some playing all manner of games,
and in-every hall was the same abundance of gold and silver vessels ;
but Civil was most astonished when the merman brought him to a
marble chamber full of heaps of precious stones. There were ciamonds
there whose value the fisherman knew not—pearls larger than ever
a diver had gathered — emeralds, sapphires, and rubies, that would










oy



72 GRANNY S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

have made the jewellers of the world wonder; the merman then
said—

“This is my eldest daughter's dowry.’

“Good luck attend her!’ said Civil. ‘It is the dowry of a queen.’
But the merman led him on to another chamber : it was filled with
heaps of gold coin, which seemed gathered from all times and nations.
The images and inscriptions of all the kings that ever reigned were
there; and the merman said—

«This is my second daughter’s dowry.’

“*Good luck attend her!’ said Civil. ‘It is a dowry for a
princess.’ ,

“*So you may say,’ replied the merman. ‘But make up your mind
which of the maidens you will marry, for the third has no portion at all,
because she is not my daughter; but only, as you may see, a poor silly
girl taken into my family for charity.’

“«Truly, my lord,’ said Civil, whose mind was already made up,
‘both your daughters are too rich and far too noble for me; therefore
I choose the third. Her poverty will best become my estate of a poor
fisherman.’

“Tf you choose her,’ said the merman, ‘you must wait long for
a wedding. I cannot allow an inferior girl to be married before my
own daughters. And he said a
great deal more to persuade him;
but Civil would not change his
mind, and they returned to the
hall.

“There was no more atten-
tion for the fisherman, but every-
body watched him well. Turn
where he would, master or guest
had their eyes upon him, though
he made them the best speeches
he could remember, and praised
all their splendours. One thing,
however, was strange—there was
no end to the fun and the feast-
ing; nobody seemed tired, and
nobody thought of sleep. When
Civil’s very eyes closed with
weariness, and he slept on one
of the marble benches—no matter
how many hours—there were the company feasting and dancing away ;
there were the thousand lamps within, and the cold moonlight without.





SOUR AND CIVIL. 73.
Civil wished himself back with his mother, his net, and his cobbled
skiff. Fishing would have been easier than those everlasting feasts ;
but there was nothing else among the sea-people—no night of rest, no-
working day.

“Civil knew not how time went on, till, waking up from a long
sleep, he saw, for the first time, that the feast was over, and the
company gone. The lamps still burned, and the tables, with all
their riches, stood in the empty halls; but there was no face to
be seen, no sound to be heard, only a low voice singing beside
the outer door; and there, sitting all alone, he found the mild-eyed
maiden.

“Pair lady, said Civil, ‘tell me what means this quietness, and
where are all the merry company?’

“Vou are aman of the land,’ said the lady, ‘and know not the
sea-people. They never sleep but once a year, and that is at
Christmas time. Then they go into the deep caverns, where there is.
always darkness, and sleep till the new year comes.’

“Tt is a strange fashion, said Civil; ‘but all folks have their
way. Fair lady, as you and I are to be good friends, tell me,
whence come all the wines and meats, and gold and silver vessels,
seeing there are neither corn-fields nor flocks here, workmen nor
artificers ?’

“©The sea-people are heirs of the sea,’ replied the maiden; ‘to
them come all the stores and riches that are lost in it. I know not
the ways by which they come; but the lord of these halls keeps the
keys of seven gates, where they go out and in; but one of the gates,
which has not been opened for thrice seven years, leads to a path
under the sea, by which, I heard the merman say in his cups, one
might reach the land. Good fisherman, if by chance you gain his
favour, and ever open that gate, let me bear you company; for I was
born where the sun shines and the grass grows, though my country
and my parents are unknown tome. All I remember is sailing in a
great ship, when a storm arose, and it was wrecked, and not one soul
escaped drowning but me. I was then a little child, and a brave sailor
had bound me to a floating plank before he was washed away. Here
the sea-people came round me like great fishes, and I went down with
them to this rich and weary country. Sometimes, as a great favour,
they take me up with them to see the sun; but that is seldom, for they
never like to part with one who has seen their country; and, fisherman,
if you ever leave them, remember to take nothing with you that
belongs to them, for if it were but a shell or a pebble, that will give
them power over you and yours.’

“Thanks for your news, fair lady,’ said Civil. ‘ A lord’s daughter,

E



74 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHATR.

doubtless, you must have been while I am but a poor fisherman ;
yet, as we have fallen into the same misfortune, let us be friends,
and it may be we shall find means to get back to the sunshine
together.’

““You are a man of good manners,’ said the lady, ‘therefore I
accept your friendship; but my fear is that we shall never see the
sunshine again.’

“*Fair speeches brought me here,’ said Civil; ‘and fair speeches
may help me back; but be sure I will not go without you.’”



CHAPTER X

Sour and Civil—(continued).

(x ) that Christmas time seeing the wonders of the sea country.

AMM They wandered through caves like that of the great merman.

The unfinished feast was spread in every hall; the tables were

covered with most costly vessels; and heaps of jewels lay on the floors

of unlocked chambers. But for the lady’s warning, Civil would fain
have put away some of them for his mother.

«The poor woman was sad of heart by this time, believing her son
to be drowned. On the first night when
he did not come home, she had gone
down to the sea and watched till morning.

Then the fishermen steered out again, and
~ Sour having found his skiff floating about,
brought it home, saying, the foolish young
man was doubtless lost; but what better
could be expected when he had no discreet person to take care of him.

“ This grieved Dame Civil sore. She never expected to see her
son again; but, feeling lonely in her cottage at the evening hour when
he used to come home, the good woman accustomed herself to go down
at sunset and sit beside the sea. That winter happened to be mild on
the coast of the west country, and one evening
when the Christmas time was near, and the
rest of the village preparing to make merry,
Dame Civil sat, as usual,
on the sands. The tide
was ebbing and the sun
going down, when from
the eastward came a lady
clad in black, mounted on —
a black palfrey, and fol-
lowed by a squire in the
same sad clothing; as the
lady came near, she said—

«Woe is me for my daughter, and for all that have lost by the sea!’

“ pe promise cheered the lady’s heart, and she and Civil spent







76 GRANNY’S IVWONDERFUL CHATR.

“*You say well, noble lady,’ said Dame Civil. ‘Woe is me
also for my son, for I have none beside him.’

“When the lady heard that, she alighted from her palfrey, and sat
down by the fisherman’s mother, saying—

““Listen to my story. I was the widow of a great lord in the
heart of the east country. He left me a fair castle, and an only
daughter, who was the joy of my heart. Her name was Faith Feign-
less ; but, while she was yet a child, a great fortune-teller told me that
my daughter would marry a fisherman. I thought this would be a
great disgrace to my noble family, and, therefore, sent my daughter
with her nurse in a good ship, bound for a certain city where my
relations live, intending to follow myself as soon as I could get my
lands and castles sold. But the ship was wrecked, and my daughter
drowned ; and I have wandered over the world with my good Squire
Trusty, mourning on every shore with those who have lost friends
by the sea. Some with whom I have mourned grew to forget their
sorrow, and would lament with me no more; others being sour and
selfish, mocked me, saying, my grief was nothing to them: but you
have good manners, and I will remain with you, however humble be
your dwelling. My squire carries gold enough to pay all our charges.’
So the mourning lady and her good Squire Trusty went home with
Dame Civil, and she was no longer lonely in her sorrow, for when the
dame said —

“*Oh! if my son were alive, I should never let him go to sea in a
cobbled skiff!’ the Jady answered—

““Oh! if my daughter were but living, I should never think it a
disgrace though she married a fisherman !’

“The Christmas passed as it always does in the west country—
shepherds made merry on the downs, and fishermen on the shore; but
when the merrymakings and ringing of bells were over in all the land,
the sea-people woke up to their continual feasts and dances. Like one
that had forgotten all that was passed, the merman again showed Civil
the chamber of gold and the chamber of jewels, advising him to choose
between his two daughters; but the fisherman still answered that the
ladies were too noble, and far too rich for him. Yet as he looked at
the glittering heap, Civil could not help recollecting the poverty of the
west country, and the thought slipped out—

“* How happy my old neighbours would be to find themselves here!’

“* Say you so?’ said the merman, who always wanted visitors.

“* Ves,’ said Civil, ‘I have neighbours up yonder 1 the west country
whom it would be hard to send home again if they got sight of half
this wealth ;’ and the honest fisherman thought of Dame Sour and her
son.



SOUR AND CIVIL. 7

“The merman was greatly delighted with these speeches—he
thought there was a probability of getting many land-people down, and
by and by said to Civil—

“Suppose you took up a few jewels, and went up to tell your poor
neighbours how welcome we might make them ?’

“The prospect of getting back to his country rejoiced Civil’s heart,
but he had promised not to go without the lady, and, therefore,
answered prudently what was indeed true—

«Many thanks, my lord, for choosing such a humble man as [ am
to bear your message; but the people of the west country never
believe anything without two witnesses at the least; yet if the poor
maid whom I have chosen could be permitted to accompany me, I
think they would believe us both.’

“Phe merman said nothing in reply, but his people, who had heard
Civil’s speech, talked it over among themselves till they grew sure that
the whole west country would come down, if they only had news of the
riches, and petitioned their lord to send up Civil and the poor maid by
way of letting them know.

«“ As it seemed for the public good, the great merman consented ;
but, being determined to have them back, he gathered out of his
treasure chamber some of the largest pearls and diamonds that lay
convenient, and said—

“Take these as a present from me, to let the west country people
see what I can do for my visitors.’

“ Civil and the lady took the presents, saying—

“¢ Oh, my lord, you are too generous. We want nothing but the
pleasure of telling of your marvellous riches up yonder.’

“«©Tell everybody to come down, and they will get the Quy
like” said the merman; ‘and follow my eldest daughter, for
she carries the key of the land gate.’

“Civil and the lady followed the mermaid through a
winding gallery, which led from the chief banquet hall far
‘ato the marble hill. All was dark, and they had neither
lamp nor torch, but at the end of the gallery they came to
a great stone gate, which creaked like thunder on its hinges.
Beyond that there was a narrow Cave, sloping up and up
liké a steep hill-side. Civil and the lady thought they would never
reach the top; but at last they saw a gleam of daylight, then a strip of
blue sky, and the mermaid bade them stoop and creep through what
seemed a crevice in the ground, and both stood up on the broad sea-
beach as the day was breaking and the tide ebbing fast away.

“*Good times to you among your west country people, said the
mermaid. ‘Tell any of them that would like to come down to visit us,

=a





78 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

that they must come here midway between the high and low water-
mark, when the tide is going out at morning or evening. Call thrice
on the sea-people, and we will show them the way.’

“Before they could make answer, she had sunk down from their
sight, and there was no track or passage there, but all was covered by
the loose sand and sea-shells.

“* Now, said the lady to Civil, ‘we have seen the heavens once
more, and we will not go back. Cast in the merman’s present quickly
before the sun rises;’ and taking the bag of pearls and diamonds, she
flung it as far as she could into the sea.

“Civil never was so unwilling to part with anything as that bag, but
he thought it better to follow a good example, and tossed his into the
sea also. They thought they heard a long moan come up from the
waters; but Civil saw his mother’s chimney beginning to smoke, and
with the fair lady in her sea-green gown he hastened to the good dame’s

cottage.
“The whole village were woke up that morning with cries of
‘Welcome back, my son!’ ‘Welcome back, my daughter!’ for the
2 as §

mournful lady knew it was her lost daughter, Faith Feignless, whom
the fisherman had brought back, and all the neighbours assembled to
hear their story. When it was told, everybody praised Civil for the
prudence he had shown in his difficulties, except Sour and his mother:
they did nothing but rail upon him for losing such great chances of
making himself and the whole country rich. At last, when they heard
over and over again of the merman’s treasures, neither mother nor son
would consent to stay any longer in the west country, and as nobody
persuaded them, and they would not take Civil’s direction, Sour got out
his boat and steered away with his mother toward the Merman’s Rock.
From that voyage they never came back to the hamlet. Some say
they went down and lived among the sea-people; others say—I know
not how they learned it—that Sour and his mother grumbled and
growled so much that even the sea-people grew weary of them, and
turned them and their boat out on the open sea. What part of the
world they chose to land on nobody is certain: by all accounts they
have been seen everywhere, and I should not be surprised if they were
in this good company. As for Civil, he married Faith Feignless, and
became a great lord.”

Here the voice ceased, and two that were clad in sea-green silk,
with coronets of pearls, rose up, and said—

“ That’s our story.”

“Oh, mamma, if we could get down to that country!” said Princess
Greedalind.

“And bring all the treasures back with us!” answered Queen Wantall.







SOUR AND CIVIL, 719

“Except the tale of yesterday, and the four that went before it, I
have not heard such a story since my brother Wisewit went from me,
and was lost in the forest,” said King Winwealth. ‘“ Readyrein, the
second of my pages, rise, and bring this maiden
a purple velvet mantle.”

The mantle was brought, and Snow-
flower having thanked the king, went down
upon her grandmother’s chair; but that
night the little girl went no further than the
lowest banquet hall, where she was bidden
to stay and share the feast, and sleep
hard by in a wainscot chamber. That
she was well entertained there is no / wae" J; ry
doubt, for King Winwealth had been “““ SS f> eS
heard to say that it was not clear to
him how he could have got through the seven days’ feast without her
grandmother's chair and its stories; but next day being the last of the
seven, things were gayer than ever in the palace. The music had
never been so merry, the dishes so rich, or the wines so rare; neither
had the clamours at the gate ever been so loud, nor the disputes and
envies so many in the halls.

Perhaps it was these doings that brought the low spirits earlier
than usual on King Winwealth, for after dinner his majesty fell into
them so deeply that a message came down from the highest banquet
hall, and the cupbearer told Snowflower to go up with her chair, for
King Winwealth wished to hear another story.

Now the little girl put on all her finery, from the pink shoes to the
purple mantle, and went up in her chair, looking so like a princess
that the whole company rose to welcome her. But having made her
courtesy, and laid down her head, saying, “Chair of my grandmother,
tell me a story,” the clear voice from under the cushion answered—

“Listen to the Story of Merrymind.”







CHAPTER NI,

The Story of Merrymind,

NCE upon a time there lived in the north country a certain
poor man and his wife, who had two corn-fields, three cows,
five sheep, and thirteen children. Twelve of these children
were called by names common in the north country— Hard-

head, Stiffneck, Tightfingers, and the like: but when the thirteenth came

to be named, either the poor man and his wife could remember no other
name, or something in the child’s look made them think it proper, for
they called him Merrymind, which the neighbours thought a strange
name, and very much above their station: however, as they showed
no other signs of pride, the neighbours let that pass. Their thirteen
children grew taller and stronger every year, and they had hard work
to keep them in bread; but when the youngest was old enough to
look after his father’s sheep, there happened the great fair, to which
everybody in the north country went, because it came only once in
seven years, and was held on midsummer-day,—not in any town or

village, but on a green plain, lying between a broad river and a

high hill, where it was said the fairies used to dance in old and

merry times.

“Merchants and dealers of all sorts crowded to that fair from far
and near. There was nothing known in the north country that could
not be bought or sold in it, and neither old nor young were willing to
go home without a fairing. The poor man who owned this large
family could afford them little to spend in such ways; but as the fair
happened only once in seven years, he would not show a poor spirit.
Therefore, calling them about him, he opened the leathern bag in
which his savings were stored, and gave every one of the thirteen a
silver penny.

“The boys and girls had never before owned so much pocket-
money; and, wondering what they should buy, they dressed themselves
in their holiday clothes, and set out with their father and mother to
the fair. When they came near the ground that midsummer morning,
the stalls, heaped up with all manner of merchandise, from gingerbread
upwards, the tents for fun and feasting, the puppet-shows, the rope-
dancers, and the crowd of neighbours and strangers, all in their best









THE STORY OF MERRYMIND. 81

attire, made those simple people think their north country fair the
finest sight in the world. The day wore away in seeing wonders, and
in chatting with old friends. It was surprising how far silver pennies
went in those days; but before evening twelve of the thirteen had got
fairly rid of their money. One
bought a pair of brass buckles, oe
another a crimson riband, a third eoTt
green garters; the father bought i
a tobacco-pipe, the mother a horn ft
snuffbox—in short, all had pro-
vided themselves with fairings
except Merrymind.
“The cause of the silver penny
remaining in his pocket was that
he had set his heart upon a fiddle ; ‘ws
and fiddles enough there were in
the fair—small and large, plain
and painted: he looked at and priced the most of them, but there was
not one that came within the compass of a silver penny. His father
and mother warned him to make haste with his purchase, for they
must all go home at sunset, because the way was long.

“The sun was getting low and red upon the hill; the fair was
growing thin, for many dealers had packed up their stalls and departed;
but there was a mossy hollow in the great hill-side, to which the out-
skirts of the fair had reached, and Merrymind thought he would see
what might be there. The first thing was a stall of fiddles, kept by a
young merchant from a far country, who had many customers, his
goods being fine and new; but hard by sat a little grey-haired man,
at whom everybody had laughed that day, because he had nothing on
his stall but one old dingy fiddle, and all its strings were broken.
Nevertheless, the little man sat as stately, and cried, ‘ Fiddles to sell!’
as if he had the best stall in the fair.

«Buy a fiddle, my young master?’ he said, as Merrymind came
forward. ‘You shall have it cheap: I ask but a silver penny for it;
and if the strings were mended, its like would not be in the north
country.’

“Merrymind thought this a great bargain. He was a handy boy,
and could mend the strings while watching his father’s sheep. So
down went the silver penny on the little man’s stall, and up went the
fiddle under Merrymind’s arm.

«*Now, my young master,’ said the little man, ‘ you see that we
merchants have a deal to look after, and if you help me to bundle up
my stall, I will tell you a wonderful piece of news about that fiddle.’




poh
ot
|



82 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

‘“‘Merrymind was good-natured and fond of news, so he helped him
to tie up the loose boards and sticks that composed his stall with an
old rope, and when they were hoisted on his back like a fagot, the little
man said—

“* About that fiddle, my young master : it is certain the strings can
never be mended, nor made new, except by threads from the night-
spinners, which, if you get, it will be a good pennyworth;’
and up the hill he ran like a greyhound.

‘“Merrymind thought that was queer news, but being
given to hope the best, he believed the little man was only
jesting, and made haste to join the rest of the family, who
were soon on their way home. When they got there
every one showed his bargain, and Merrymind showed his
fiddle ; but his brothers and sisters laughed at him for
buying such a thing when he had never learned to play.
His sisters asked him what music he could bring out of
broken strings ; and his father said—

“* Thou hast shown little prudence in laying out thy
first penny, from which token I fear thou wilt never have
many to lay out.’

“In short, everybody threw scorn on Merrymind’s bargain except
his mother. She, good woman, said if he laid out one penny ill, he
might lay out the next better; and who knew but his fiddle would be
of use some day? To make her words good, Merrymind fell to
repairing the strings—he spent all his time, both night and day, upon
them ; but, true to the little man’s parting words, no mending would
stand, and no string would hold on that fiddle. Merrymind tried every-
thing, and wearied himself to no purpose. At last he thought of
inquiring after people who spun at night; and this seemed such a good
ee to the north country people, that they wanted no other till the next

air.

“In the meantime Merrymind lost credit at home and abroad.
Everybody believed in his father’s prophecy ; his brothers and sisters
valued him no more than a herd-boy ; the neighbours thought he must
turn out a scapegrace. Still the boy would not part with his fiddle.
It was his silver pennyworth, and he had a strong hope of mending the
strings for all that had come and gone ; but since nobody at home
cared for him except his mother, and as she had twelve other children,
he resolved to leave the scorn behind him, and go to seek his fortune.

“ The family were not very sorry to hear of that intention, being ina
manner ashamed of him; besides, they could spare one out of thirteen.
His father gave him a barley cake, and his mother her blessing. All
his brothers and sisters wished him well. Most of the neighbours

My
a





THE STORY OF MERRYMIND 83

hoped that no harm would happen to him; and Merrymind set out one
summer morning with the broken-stringed fiddle under his arm.

“ There were no highways then in the north country—people took
whatever path pleased them best ; so Merrymind went over the fair
ground and up the hill, hoping to meet the little man, and learn some-
thing of the night-spinners. The hill was covered with heather to the
top, and he went up without meeting anyone. On the other side it was
steep and rocky, and after a hard scramble down, he came to a narrow
glen all overgrown with wild furze and brambles. Merrymind had never
met with briars so sharp, but he was not the boy to turn back readily,
and pressed on in spite of torn clothes and scratched hands, till he came
to the end of the glen, where two paths met: one of them wound
through a pine-wood, he knew not how far, but it seemed green and
pleasant. The other was a rough, stony way leading to a wide valley
surrounded by high hills, and overhung by a dull, thick mist, though it
was yet early in the summer evening.

“Merrymind was weary with his long journey, and stood thinking
of what path to choose, when, by the way of
the valley, there came an old man as tall and
large as any three men of the north country.
His white hair and beard hung like tangled
flax about him; his clothes were made of sack-
cloth; and on his back he carried a heavy
burden of dust heaped high in a great pannier.

“ said, coming near to Merrymind: ‘if you take
the way through the wood I know not what
will happen to you; but if you choose this path
you must help me with my pannier, and I can
tell you it’s no trifle.’

“Well, father, said Merrymind, ‘you
seem tired, and Iam younger than you, though
not quite so tall; so, if you please, I will
choose this way, and help you along with the
pannier.’ ao

“Scarce had he spoken when the huge =
man caught hold of him, firmly bound one side of the pannier to his
shoulders with the same strong rope that fastened it on his own back,
and never ceased scolding and calling him names as they marched over
the stony ground together. It was a rough way and a heavy burden,
and Merrymind wished himself a thousand times out of the old man’s
company, but there was no getting off; and at length, in hopes of
beguiling the way, and putting him in better humour, he began to sing





Full Text




Grerite ARRAN OKs sh
SNOWBERY ROUSE, CHARING CROSS ROAD,
ORBON < SYVNY.

ay




The Baldwin Library

University
RMB sit
Florida



Granny’s Wonderful Chair


Granny's |
Wonderful Chair

And its ‘Tales of Fairy Times -

By

FRANCES BROWNE

Illustrated by Marie Seymour Lucas



London

Griffth Farran Okeden & Welsh |

Newbery House Charing Cross Road
AND SYDNEY

Table of Contents.

INTRODUCTORY.

THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO.

THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO (Continued).
THE LORDS OF THE WHITE AND GREY CASTLES.
THE GREEDY SHEPHERD.

THE STORY OF FAIRYFOOT.

THE STORY OF FAIRYFOOT (Continued)
THE STORY OF CHILDE CHARITY.
SOUR AND CIVIL.

SOUR AND CIVIL (Continued).

THE STORY OF MERRYMIND.

THE STORY OF MERRYMIND (Continued).
PRINCE WISEWIT’S RETURN.

List of Coloured Fllustrations.

CHAIR OF MY GRANDMOTHER, TELL ME A STORY.
LISTEN TO THE STORY

THE MORE THEY TALKED THE LIGHTER GREW THEIR HEARTS
THEY MENDED THE SHOES OF LORDS AND LADIES
. SENT TO HERD TIE SWINE AND SLEEP ON STRAW
THEY CAME INTO THE RAVENS’ NEIGHBOURHOOD
THE BROTHERS LIVED PEACEABLY

ONCE A YEAR THE FOREMOST SCULLIO WAS SENT
FAIRYFOOT MAKING A HUMBLE REVERENCE

SHE SCOURED PAILS

THE PROUD COUSINS STRUTTED LIKE PEACOCKS .
CIVIL HELPED THE GREAT FISII

SHE FLUNG IT INTO THE SEA

AN OLD DINGY FIDDLE

TWO FAIR MAIDENS SPINNING

DAME FROSTY FACE YET SPINS

PAGE
Frontispiece
15

23

29

v2 v2
“I ws

ary
bo

56
59
65
69
78
81
88

94


Publisher’s Wote.

RANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR was first published in 1856,
in the small quarto shape which was then so familiar, and was
illustrated by Kenny Meadows. Although a small book it was

published at “3s. 6d. plain, and 4s. 6d. coloured,” and it very speedily became

popular, and went out of print. It was not reprinted until 1880, when it was



issued in more modern dress as an eighteenpenny volume; it then took
a fresh lease of life: New Editions appeared in 1881—1882—-1883—1884
—1887, and in 1889, when, owing to the effect of competition, it had to
take its place in a shilling series. In the meantime a very curious circum-
stance had occurred. In the year 1887, Mrs Frances Hodgson Burnett
commenced in S¢ Nicholas, “The Story of Prince Fairy Foot,” which she
intended to be the first of a series under the general title of “Stories from
the Lost Fairy-Book, retold by the Child who Read Them.” It was im-
mediately discovered that the lost fairy-book was the little volume called
“Granny’s Wonderful Chair, and the Tales it Told;” and in regard to
this lost fairy book Mrs Burnett wrote in St Wicholas in February 1887 :—

“ When I was a child of six or seven, I had given to me a book of fairy-stories, of which I
was very fond. Before it had been in my possession many months, it disappeared, and though
since then I have tried repeatedly, both in England and America, to find a copy of it, I have
never been able to do so. I asked a friend in the Congressional Library at Washington—a man
whose knowledge of books is almost unlimited—to try to learn something about it forme. But
even he could find no trace of it; and so we concluded it must have been out of print some
time. I always remembered the impression the stories had made on me, and, though most of
them had become very faint recollections, I frequently told them to children, with additions of
my own. The story of Fairyfoot I had promised to tell a little girl; and in accordance with the
promise, I developed the outline 1 remembered, introduced new characters and conversation,
wrote it upon note-paper, inclosed it in a decorated satin cover, and sent it to her. In the first
place it was rewritten merely for her, with no intention of publication ; but she was so delighted
with it, and read and re-read it so untiringly that it occurred to me other children might like to
read it also. So I made the plan of developing and rewriting the other stories in like manner,
and having them published under the title of ‘ Stories from the Lost Fairy-Book, retold by the
Child who Read Them.’”
GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.



CHAPTER I.

Sntroductory.

sa ¢N an old time, long ago, when the fairies were in the world, there
oH lived a little girl so uncommonly fair and pleasant of look, that
“me they called her Snowflower. This girl was good as well as
pretty. No one had ever seen her frown or heard her say a
cross word, and young and old were glad when they saw her coming.

Snowflower had no relation in the world but a very old grand-
mother, calied Dame Frostyface ; people did not like her quite so well
as her granddaughter, for she was cross enough at times, but always
kind to Snowflower ; and they lived together in a little cottage built of
peat, and thatched with reeds, on the edge of a great forest; tall trees
sheltered its back from the north wind; the mid-day sun made its front
warm and cheerful; swallows built in the eaves; daisies grew thick at
the door; but there were none in all that country poorer than Snow-
flower and her grandmother. A cat and two hens were all their live-
stock : their bed was dry grass, and the only good piece of furniture in
the cottage was a great arm-chair with wheels on its feet, a black velvet
cushion, and many curious carvings of flowers and fawns on its dark
oaken back.

On that chair Dame Frostyface sat spinning from morning till
night to maintain herself and her granddaughter, while Snowflower
gathered sticks for firing, looked after the hens and the cat, and
did whatever else her grandmother bade her. There was nobody in
the shire could spin such fine yarn as Dame Frostyface, but she
spun very slowly. Her wheel was as old as herself, and far the more
worn; indeed, the wonder was that it did not fall to pieces. So
the dame’s earnings were small, and their living meagre. Snow-
Hower, however, felt no want of good dinners or fine clothes. Every
evening, when the fire was heaped with the sticks she had gathered
till it blazed and crackled up the cottage chimney, Dame Frostyface
set aside her wheel, and told her a new story. Often did the little
A
10 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

girl wonder where her grandmother had gathered so many stories,
but she soon learned that. One sunny morning, at the time of the
swallows coming, the dame rose up, put on the grey hood and mantle
in which she carried her yarn to the fairs, and said, “ My child, I am
going a long journey to visit an aunt of mine, who lives far in the north
country. I cannot take you with me, because my aunt is the crossest
woman alive, and never liked young people: but the hens will lay eggs
for you; there is barley-meal in the barrel; and, as you have been a
good girl, I'll tell you what to do when you feel lonely. Lay your head
gently down on the cushion of the arm-chair, and say, ‘Chair of my
grandmother, tell me a story.’ It was made by a cunning fairy, who
lived in the forest when I was young, and she gave it to me because
she knew nobody could keep what they got hold of better. Remember,
you must never ask a story more than once in the day; and if there
be any occasion to travel, you have only to seat yourself in it, and say,
‘Chair of my grandmother, take me such a way.’ It will carry you
wherever you wish; but mind to oil the wheels before you set out, for
I have sat on it these forty years in that same corner.”

Having said this, Dame Frostyface set forth to see her aunt in the
north country. Snowflower gathered firing and looked after the hens
and cat as usual. She baked herself a cake or two of the barley-meal ;
but when the evening fell the cottage
looked lonely. Then Snowflower re-
membered her grandmother's words, and,
laying her head gently down, she said,
“Chair of my grandmother, tell me a
story.”

Scarce were the words spoken, when
a clear voice from under the velvet
cushion began to tell a new and most
wonderful tale, which surprised Snow-
flower so much that she forgot to be
frightened. After that the good girl was
lonely no more. Every morning she
baked a barley cake, and every evening
the chair told her a new story; but she
could never find out who owned the
voice, though Snowflower showed her
gratitude by polishing up the oaken
back, and dusting the velvet cushion,
till the chair looked as good as new.
2 The swallows came and built in the
ves eaves, the daisies grew thicker than


INTRODUCTORY. Il

ever at the door; but great misfortunes fell upon Snowflower.
Notwithstanding all her care, she forgot to clip the hens’ wings, and
they flew away one morning to visit their friends, the pheasants, who
lived far in the forest; the cat followed them to see its relations ;
the barley-meal was eaten up, except a couple of handfuls; and Snow-
flower had often strained her eyes in hopes of seeing the grey mantle,
but there was no appearance of Dame Frostyface.

“My grandmother stays long,” said Snowflower to herself; “and
by and by there will be nothing to eat. If I could get to her, perhaps
she would advise me what to do; and this is a good occasion for
travelling.”

Next day, at sunrise, Snowflower oiled the chair’s wheels, baked a
cake out of the last of the meal, took it in her lap by way of provision
for the journey, seated herself, and said, “Chair of my grandmother,
take me the way she went.”

Presently the chair gave a creak, and began to move out of the
cottage and into the forest the very way Dame Frostyface had taken,
where it rolled along at the rate of a coach and six. Snowflower was
amazed at this style of travelling, but the chair never stopped nor
stayed the whole summer day, till as the sun was setting they came
upon an open space, where a hundred men were hewing down the
tall trees with their axes, a hundred more were cleaving them for
firewood, and twenty waggoners, with horses and waggons, were
carrying the wood away. “Oh! chair of my grandmother, stop!”
said Snowflower, for she was tired, and also wished to know what this
might mean. The chair immediately stood still, and Snowflower,
seeing an old woodcutter, who looked civil, stepped up to him, and said,
“ Good father, tell me why you cut all this wood ?”

“What ignorant country girl are you?” replied the man, “not to
have heard of the great feast which our sovereign, King Winwealth,
means to give on the birthday of his only daughter, the Princess
Greedalind. It will last seven days. Everybody will be feasted, and
this wood is to roast the oxen and the sheep, the geese and the turkeys,
amongst whom there is a great lamentation throughout the land.”

When Snowflower heard that she could not help wishing to see, and
perhaps share in, such a noble feast, after living so long on barley cakes ;
so, seating herself, she said, “‘ Chair of my grandmother, take me quickly
to the palace of King Winwealth.”

The words were hardly spoken, when off the chair started through
the trees and out of the forest, to the great amazement of the wood-
cutters, who, never having seen such a sight before, threw down their
axes, left their waggons, and followed Snowflower to the gates of a
great and splendid city, fortified with strong walls and high towers, and
12 GRANNVY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

standing in the midst of a wide plain covered with cornfields, orchards,
and villages.

It was the
richest city in
all the land;
merchantsfrom
every quarter
came there to
buy and. sell,
and there was
a saying that
people had
only to live
seven years in
it to make
their fortunes.
Rich as they
were, however, Snowflower thought she had never seen so many dis-
contented, covetous faces as looked out from the great shops, grand
houses, and fine coaches, when her chair: rattled along the streets ;
indeed, the citizens did not stand high in repute for either good-nature
or honesty ; but it had not been so when King Winwealth was young,
and he and his brother, Prince Wisewit, governed the land together—
Wisewit was a wonderful prince for knowledge and prudence. He
knew the whole art of government, the tempers of men, and the powers
of the stars ; moreover, he was a great magician, and it was said of him
that he could never die or grow old. In his time there was neither
discontent nor sickness in the city—strangers were hospitably enter-
tained without price or questions. Lawsuits there were none, and
no one locked his door at night. The fairies used to come there at
May-day and Michaelmas, for they were Prince Wisewit’s friends —all
but one, called Fortunetta, a shortsighted but very cunning fairy, who
hated everybody wiser than herself, and the prince especially, because
she could never deceive him.

There was peace and pleasure for many a year in King Winwealth’s
city, till one day at midsummer Prince Wisewit went alone to the
forest, in search of a strange herb for his garden, but he never came
back ; and though the king, with all his guards, searched far and near,
no news was ever heard of him. When his brother was gone, King
Winwealth grew lonely in his great palace, so he married a certain
princess, called Wantall, and brought her home to be his queen. This
princess was neither handsome nor agreeable. People thought she
must have gained the king’s love by enchantment, for her whole dowry


INTRODUCTORY, 13

was a desert island, with a huge pit in it that never could be filled, and
her disposition was so covetous, that the more she got the greedier she
grew. In process of time the king and queen had an only daughter,
who was to be the heiress of all their dominions. Her name was
the Princess Greedalind, and the whole city were making preparations
to celebrate her birthday—not that they cared much for the princess,
who was remarkably like her mother both in looks and temper, but
being King Winwealth’s only daughter, people came from far and near
to the festival, and among them strangers and fairies who had not been
there since the days of Prince Wisewit.

There was surprising bustle about the palace, a most noble build-
ing, so spacious that it had a room for every day in the year. All the
floors were of ebony, and all the ceilings of silver, and there was such
a supply of golden dishes used by the household, that five hundred
armed men kept guard night and day lest any of them should be
stolen. When these guards saw Snowflower and her chair, they ran
one after another to tell the king, for the like had never been seen nor
heard of in his dominions, and the whole court crowded out to see the
little maiden and her chair that came of itself.

When Snowflower saw the lords and ladies in their embroidered
robes and splendid jewels, she began to feel ashamed of her own bare
feet and linen gown; but at length taking courage, she answered all
their questions, and told them everything about her wonderful chair.
The queen and the princess cared for nothing that was not gilt. The
courtiers had learned the same fashion, and all turned away in high
disdain except the old king, who, thinking the chair might amuse him
sometimes when he got out of spirits, allowed Snowflower to stay and
feast with the scullion in his worst kitchen. The poor little girl was
glad of any quarters, though nobody made her welcome—even the
servants despised her bare feet and linen gown. They would give
her chair no room but in a dusty corner behind the back door, where
Snowflower was told she might sleep at night, and eat up the scraps
the cook threw away.

That very day the feast began; it was fine to see the multitudes
of coaches and people on foot and on horseback who crowded to the
palace, and filled every room according to their rank. Never had
Snowflower seen such roasting and boiling. There was wine for the
lords and spiced ale for the common people, music and dancing of all
kinds, and the best of gay dresses ; but with all the good cheer there
seemed little merriment, and a deal of ill-humour in the palace.

Some of the guests thought they should have been feasted in
grander rooms ; others were vexed to see many finer than themselves.
‘All the servants were dissatisfied because they did not get presents.
i4 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

There was somebody caught every hour stealing the cups, and a
multitude of people were always at the gates clamouring for goods and
lands, which Queen Wantall had taken from them. The guards con-
tinually drove them away, but they came back again, and could be
heard plainly in the highest banquet hall: so it was not wonderful
that the old king’s spirits got uncommonly low that evening after
supper. His favourite page, who always stood behind him, perceiving
this, reminded his majesty of the little girl and her chair.

ug “Tt is a good thought,” said
King Winwealth. ‘I have not
heard a story this many a year.
Bring the child and the chair
instantly!”

The favourite page sent a
messenger to the first kitchen,
who ‘told the master-cook, the
master-cook told the kitchen-
maid, the kitchen-maid told the
chief-scullion, the chief-scullion
told the dust-boy, and he told
Snowflower to wash her face,
rub up her chair, and go to the
highest banquet hall, for the
great king Winwealth wished
to hear'a story.

Nobody offered to help her,

; but when Snowflower had made
herself as smart as she could with soap and water, and rubbed the
chair till it looked as if dust had never fallen on it, she seated herself,
= said :—“ Chair of my grandmother, take me to the highest banquet
hall.”

Instantly the chair marched in a grave and courtly fashion out of
the kitchen, up the grand staircase, and into the highest hall. The
“chief lords and ladies of the land were entertained there, besides many
fairies and notable people from distant countries. There had never
been such company in the palace since the time of Prince Wisewit ;
nobody wore less than embroidered satin. King Winwealth sat on his
ivory throne in a robe of purple velvet, stiff with flowers of gold; the
quecn sat by his side in a robe of silver cloth, clasped with pearls ; but
the Princess Greedalind was finer still, the feast being in her honour.
She wore a robe of cloth of gold, clasped with diamonds ; two waiting-
ladies in white satin stood, one on either side, to hold her fan and
handkerchief; and two pages, in gold-lace livery, stood behind her



INTRODUCTORY. 15

chair. With all that Princess Greedalind looked ugly and spiteful ;
she and her mother were angry to see a barefooted girl and an old
chair allowed to enter the banquet hall.

The supper-table was still covered with golden dishes, and the best
of good things, but no one offered Snowflower a morsel: so, having
made an humble courtesy to the king, the queen, the princess, and the
good company, most of whom scarcely noticed her, the poor little girl
sat down upon the carpet, laid her head on the velvet cushion, as she
used to do in the old cottage, and said :—“ Chair of my grandmother,
tell me a story.”

Everybody was astonished, even to the angry queen and _ the
spiteful princess, when a clear voice from under the cushion, said :—
“Listen to the story of the Christmas Cuckoo!”


CHAPTER II.

The Christmas Cuckoo.

NCE upona time there stood in the midst of a bleak moor,
in the north country, a certain village; all its inhabitants
were poor, for their fields were barren, and they had little
trade, but the poorest of them all were two brothers called

Scrub and Spare, who followed the cobbler’s craft, and had but one

stall between them. It was a hut built of clay and wattles. The door

was low and always open, for there was no window. The roof did net
entirely keep out the rain, and the only thing comfortable about it was

a wide hearth, for which the brothers could never find wood enough

to make a sufficient fire. There they worked in most brotherly friend-

ship, though with little encouragement.

“The people of that village were not extravagant in shoes, and
better cobblers than Scrub and Spare might be found. Spiteful people
said there were no shoes so bad that
they would not be worse for their
mending. Nevertheless Scrub and
Spare managed to live between their
own trade, a small barley field, and
a cottage garden, till one unlucky
day when a new cobbler arrived in
the village. He had lived in the
capital city of the kingdom, and, by
his own account, cobbled for the
queen and the princesses. His awls
were sharp, his lasts were new; he
set up his stall in a neat cottage with
two windows. The villagers soon
found out that one patch of his would
wear two of the brothers’. In short,
all the mending left Scrub and Spare,
and went to the new cobbler. The i
season had been wet and cold, their barley did not ripen well, and the
cabbages never half closed in the garden. So the brothers were poor
that winter, and when Christmas came they had nothing to feast on but
a barley loaf, a piece of rusty bacon, and some small beer of their own




THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO. 17

brewing. Worse than that, the snow was very deep, and they could
get no firewood. Their hut stood at the end of the village, beyond it
spread the bleak moor, now all white and silent; but that moor had once
been a forest, great roots of old trees were still to be found in it,
loosened from the soil and laid bare by the winds and rains—one of
these, a rough, gnarled log, lay hard by their door, the half of it above
the snow, and Spare said to his brother—

“Shall we sit here cold on Christmas while the great root lies
yonder? Let us chop it up for firewood, the work will make us warm.’

“*No,’ said Scrub; ‘it's not right to chop wood on Christmas ;
besides, that root is too hard to be broken with any hatchet.’

“«Hard or not we must have a fire, replied Spare. ‘Come,
brother, help me in with it. Poor as we are, there is nobody in the
village will have such a yule log as ours.’

“Serub liked a little grandeur, and in hopes of having a fine yule
log, both brothers strained and strove with all their might till, between
pulling and pushing, the great old root was safe on the hearth, and
beginning to crackle and blaze with the red embers. In high glee, the
cobblers sat down to their beer and bacon. The door was shut,
for there was nothing but cold moonlight and snow outside; but the
hut, strewn with fir boughs, and ornamented with holly, looked cheerful
as the ruddy blaze flared up and rejoiced their hearts.

“«Tong life and good fortune to ourselves, brother!’ said Spare.
‘I hope you will drink that toast, and may we never have a worse fire
on Christmas—but what is that ?’

“Spare set down the drinking-horn, and the brothers listened aston-
ished, for out of the blazing root they heard, ‘Cuckoo! cuckoo !’ as plain
as ever the spring-bird’s voice came over the moor on a May morning.

«Tt is something bad,’ said Scrub, terribly frightened.

“May be not,’ said Spare; and out of the deep hole at the side
which the fire had not reached flew a large grey cuckoo, and lit on the
table before them. Much as the cobblers had been surprised, they
were still more so when it said—

“*Good gentlemen, what season is this ?’

‘«*Tt’s Christmas,’ said Spare.

“Then a merry Christmas to you!’ said the cuckoo. ‘I went to
sleep in the hollow of that old root one evening last summer, and never
woke till the heat of your fire made me think it was summer again ;
but now since you have burned my lodging, let me stay in your hut till
the spring comes round—I only want a hole to sleep in, and when I
go on my travels next summer be assured I will bring you some present
for your trouble.’

“«Stay, and welcome, said Spare, while Scrub sat wondering if it
18 GRANNY S WONDERFOL CHATR.

were something bad or not; ‘I'll make you a good warm hole in the
thatch. But you must be hungry after that long sleep ?—here is a slice
of barley bread. Come, help us to keep Christmas!’

“The cuckoo ate up the slice, drank water from
the brown jug, for he would take no beer, and flew
into a snug hole which Spare scooped for him in the

‘thatch of the hut.

“Scrub said he was afraid it wouldn’t be lucky ;
but as it slept on, and the days passed, he forgot
his fears. So the snow melted, the heavy rains
came, the cold grew less, the days lengthened, and
one sunny morning the brothers were awoke by the

Ye cuckoo shouting its own cry to let them know the
spring had come.

“*Now I’m going on my travels,’ said the bird, ‘over the world to
tell men of the spring. There is no country where trees bud or flowers
bloom, that I will not cry in before the year goes round. Give me
another slice of barley bread to keep me on my journey, and tell me
what present I shall bring you at the twelvemonth’s end.’

“ Scrub would have been angry with his brother for cutting so large
a slice, their store of barley-meal being low; but his mind was occupied
with what present would be most prudent to ask: at length a lucky
thought struck him.

“* Good master cuckoo,’ said he, ‘if a great traveller who sees all
the world like you, could know of any place where diamonds or pearls
were to be found, one of a tolerable size brought in your beak would
help such poor men as my brother and I to provide something better
than barley bread for your next entertainment.’

“*T know nothing of diamonds or pearls,’ said the cuckoo; ‘they
are in the hearts of rocks and the sands of rivers. My knowledge is
only of that which grows on the earth. But there are two trees hard
by the well that lies at the world’s end—one of them is called the
golden tree, for its leaves are all of beaten gold: every winter they fall
into the well with a sound like scattered coin, and I know not what
becomes of them. As for the other, it is always green like a laurel.
Some call it the wise, and some the merry tree. Its leaves never fall,
but they that get one of them keep a blythe heart in spite of all mis-
fortunes, and can make themselves as merry in a hut as in a palace.’

“Good master cuckoo, bring me a leaf off that tree!’ cried Spare.

“«* Now, brother, don’t be a fool!’ said Scrub ; ‘ think of the leaves
of beaten gold! Dear master cuckoo, bring me one of them!’

‘‘ Before another word could be spoken, the cuckoo had flown out of
the open door, and was shouting its spring cry over moor and meadow.


THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO. 19

The brothers were poorer than ever that year; nobody would send
them a single shoe to mend. The new cobbler said, in scorn, they
should come to be his apprentices; and Scrub and Spare would have
left the village but for their barley field, their cabbage garden, anda
certain maid called Fairfeather, whom
both the cobblers had courted for
seven years without even knowing
which she meant to favour.

“Sometimes Fairfeather seemed
inclined to Scrub, sometimes she
smiled on Spare; but the brothers
never disputed for that. They
sowed their barley, planted their
cabbage, and now that their trade
was gone, worked in the rich villagers’
fields to make out a scanty living.
So the seasons came and passed:
» spring, summer, harvest, and winter
followed each other as they have
done from the beginning. At the
end of the latter, Scrub and Spare
had grown so poor and ragged that
Fairfeather thought them beneath her notice. Old neighbours forgot
to invite them to wedding feasts or merrymaking; and they thought
the cuckoo had forgotten them too, when at daybreak, on the first of
April, they heard a hard beak knocking at their door, and a voice
crying—

“Cuckoo! cuckoo! Let me in with my presents.’

“ Spare ran to open the door, and in came the cuckoo, carrying on
one side of his bill a golden leaf larger than that of any tree in the north
country ; and in the other, one like that of the common laurel, only it
had a fresher green.

“¢ Here, it said, giving the gold to Scrub and the green to Spare,
‘it is a long carriage from the world’s end. Give me a slice of barley
bread, for I must tell the north country that the spring has come.’

« Scrub did not grudge the thickness of that slice, though it was cut
from their last loaf. So much gold had never been in the cobbler’s
hands before, and he could not help exulting over his brother.

“<«See the wisdom of my choice !’ he said, holding up the large leaf
of gold. ‘As for yours, as good might be plucked from any hedge. I
wonder a sensible bird would carry the like so far.’

“Good master cobbler,’ cried the cuckoo, finishing the slice, ‘ your
conclusions are more hasty than courteous. If your brother be disap-


20 GRANNY S WONDERFUL CHATR.

pointed this time, I go on the same journey every year, and for your
hospitable entertainment will think it no trouble to bring each of you
whichever leaf you desire,’

“* Darling cuckoo!’ cried Scrub, ‘bring me a golden one;’ and
Spare, looking up from the green leaf on which he gazed as though it
were a crown-jewel, said—

“* Be sure to bring me one from the merry tree,’ and away flew the
cuckoo.

““This is the Feast of All Fools, and it ought to be your birthday,’

said Scrub. ‘Did ever man fling away such an Opportunity of
getting rich! Much good your merry leaves will do in the midst
of rags and poverty!’ So he went on, but Spare laughed at him,

and answered with quaint old proverbs concerning the cares that
come with gold, till Scrub, at length getting angry, vowed his brother
was not fit to live with a respectable man; and taking his lasts, his
awls, and his golden leaf, he left the wattle hut, and went to tell the
villagers,

“They were astonished at the folly of Spare, and charmed with
Scrub’s good sense, particularly when he showed them the golden leaf,
and told that the cuckoo would bring him one every spring. The new
cobbler immediately took him into partnership ; the greatest people
sent him their shoes to mend: Fairfeather smiled graciously upon him,
and in the course of that summer they were married, with a grand
wedding feast, at which the whole village danced, except Spare, who
was not invited, because the bride could not bear his low-mindedness,
and his brother thought him a disgrace to the family.

“ Indeed, all who heard the story concluded that Spare must be mad,
and nobody would associate with him but a lame tinker, a beggar-boy,
and a poor woman reputed to be a witch because she was old and ugly.
As for Scrub, he established himself with Fairfeather in a cottage
close by that of the new cobbler, and quite as fine. There he mended
shoes to everybody’s satisfaction, had a scarlet coat for holidays, and a
fat goose for dinner every wedding-day. Fairfeather, too, had a
crimson gown and fine blue ribands ; but neither she nor Scrub were
content, for to buy this grandeur the golden leaf had to be broken and
parted with piece by piece, so the last morsel was gone before the
cuckoo came with another. ,

“Spare lived on in the old hut, and worked in the cabbage garden.
(Scrub had got the barley field because he was the eldest.) Every day
his coat grew more ragged, and the hut more weatherbeaten ; but
people remarked that he never looked sad nor sour; and the wonder
was, that from the time they began to keep his company, the tinker
grew kinder to the poor ass with which he travelled the country, the
THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO. 21

beggar-boy kept out of mischief, and the old woman was never cross
to her cat or angry with the children.

“Every first of April the cuckoo came tapping at their doors with
the golden leaf to Scrub and the green to Spare. Fairfeather would
have entertained him nobly with wheaten bread and honey, for she had
some notion of persuading him to
bring two gold leaves instead of
one; but the cuckoo flew away
to eat barley bread with Spare,
saying he was not fit company
for fine people, and liked the old
hut where he slept so snugly from
Christmas till Spring.

“Scrub spent the golden y
leaves, and Spare kept the merry -==
ones; and I know not how many
years passed in this manner, SAX?
when a certain great lord, who Bo
owned that village came to the neighbourhood. His castle stood
on the moor. It was ancient and strong, with high towers and
adeep moat. All the country, as far as one could see from the highest
turret, belonged to its lord; but he had not been there for twenty
years, and would not have come then, only he was melancholy. The
cause of his grief was that he had been prime-minister at court, and in
high favour, till somebody told the crown-prince that he had spoken
disrespectfully concerning the turning out of his royal highness’s toes,
and the king that he did not lay on taxes enough, whereon the north
country lord was turned out of office, and banished to his own estate.
There he lived for some weeks in very bad temper. The servants said
nothing would please him, and the villagers put on their worst clothes
lest he should raise their rents; but one day in the harvest time his
lordship chanced to meet Spare gathering watercresses at a meadow
stream, and fell into talk with the cobbler.

“ Tow it was nobody could tell, but from the hour of that discourse
the great lord cast away his melancholy: he forgot his lost office and
his court enemies, the king’s taxes and the crown-prince’s toes, and
went about with a noble train hunting, fishing, and making merry in his
hall, where all travellers were entertained, and all the poor were
welcome. This strange story spread through the north country, and
great company came to the cobbler’s hut—rich men who had lost their
money, poor men who had lost their friends, beauties who had grown
old, wits who had gone out of fashion, all came to talk with Spare, and
whatever their troubles had been, all went home merry. The rich


22 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

gave him presents, the poor gave him thanks. Spare’s coat ceased to
be ragged, he had bacon with his cabbage, and the villagers began to
think there was some sense in him.

“ By this time his fame had reached the capital city, and even the
court. ‘There were a great many discontented people there besides the
king, who had lately fallen into ill-humour, because a neighbouring
princess, with seven islands for her dowry, would not marry his eldest
son. So a royal messenger was sent to Spare, with a velvet mantle, a

diamond ring, and a com-
mand that he should re-
pair to court immediately,

“To-morrow is the
first of April,’ said Spare,
‘and I will go with you
two hours after sunrise.’

“The messenger lodged
all night at the castle, and
the cuckoo came at sunrise
with the merry leaf.

“* Court is a fine place,’
he said when the cobbler
told him’ he was going ;
‘but I cannot come there,
they would lay snares and

-catch me; so:be careful of
the leaves I have brought
you, and give me a fare-
well slice of barley bread.’

“Spare was sorry to
part with the cuckoo, little
as he had of his company ;

gy OR! but he gave him a slice
would: have:broken Scrub’s heart in former times, it was so thick
te sand. having: sewed up the leaves in the lining of his leather
tt with the messenger on his way to court.”





CHAPTER III.
Che Christmas Cuckoo—(continued).

* Yer IS coming caused great surprise there. Everybody wondered
a . what the king could see in such a common-looking man;
2 but scarce had his majesty conversed with him half an hour,
when the princess and her seven islands were forgotten, and
orders given that a feast for all comers should be spread in the
banquet hall. The princes of the blood, the great lords and ladies,
ministers of state, and judges of the land, after that discoursed with
Spare, and the more they talked the lighter grew their hearts, so that
such changes had never been seen at court. The lords forgot their
spites and the ladies their envies, the princes and ministers made
friends among themselves, and the judges showed no favour.

“As for Spare he had a chamber assigned him in the palace, and a
seat at the king’s table; one sent him rich robes and another costly
jewels ; but in the midst of all his grandeur he still wore the leathern
doublet, which the palace servants thought remarkably mean. One
day the king’s attention being drawn to it by the chief page, his
majesty inquired why Spare didn’t give it to a beggar? But the
cobbler answered—

“* High and mighty monarch, this doublet was with me before silk
and velvet came—I find it easier to wear than the court cut ; moreover,
it serves to keep me humble, by recalling the days when it was my
holiday garment.’

“The king thought this a wise speech, and commanded that no one
should find fault with the leathern doublet. So things went, till
tidings of his brother’s good fortune reached Scrub in the moorland
cottage on another first of April, when the cuckoo came with two
golden leaves, because he had none to carry for Spare.

“Think of that!’ said Fairfeather. “Here we are spending our
lives in this humdrum place, and Spare making his fortune at court
with two or three paltry green leaves! What would they say to our
golden ones? Let us pack up and make our way to the king’s palace ;
I’m sure he will make you a lord and me a lady of honour, not to speak
of all the fine clothes and presents we shall have.’

“Scrub thought this excellent reasoning, and their packing up
24 GRANNYS IVONDERFUL CHATLR..

began ; but it was soon found that the cottage contained few things fit

for carrying to court. Fairfeather could not think of her wooden bowls,

spoons, and trenchers being seen there. Scrub considered his lasts and
awls better left behind, as without them, he concluded, no one would
suspect him of being a cobbler. So putting on their holiday
clothes, Fairfeather took her looking-glass and Scrub his
drinking horn, which happened to have a very thin rim of

silver, and each carrying a golden leaf

carefully wrapped up that none might
ie see it till they reached the palace, the
pair set out in great expectation.

“ How far Scrub and Fairfeather
journeyed I cannot say, but
when the sun was high and
warm at noon, they came

“into a wood both tired and

a hungry.

“«Tf T had known it was
so far to court,’ said Scrub,
‘T would have brought the end of
that barley loaf which we left in

foo the cupboard.’

“Husband, said Fairfeather, ‘you shouldn’t have such mean
thoughts: how could one eat barley bread on the way to apalace? Let
us rest ourselves under this tree, and look at our golden leaves to see if
they are safe” In looking at the leaves, and talking of their fine
prospects, Scrub and Fairfeather did not perceive that a very thin old
woman had slipped from behind the tree, with a long staff in her hand
and a great wallet by her side.

‘““« Noble lord and lady,’ she said, ‘ for 1 know ye are such by your
voices, though my eyes are dim and my hearing none of the sharpest,
will ye condescend to tell me where I may find some water to mix a
bottle of mead which I carry in my wallet, because it is too strong for
me?’

“ As the old woman spoke, she pulled out a large wooden bottle such
as shepherds used in the ancient times, corked with leaves rolled
together, and having a small wooden cup hanging from its handle.

“« Perhaps ye will do me the favour to taste, she said. ‘It is only
made of the best honey. I have also cream cheese, and a wheaten
loaf here, if such honourable persons as you would eat the like.’

“Scrub and Fairfeather became very condescending after this
speech. They were now sure that there must be some appearance of
nobility about them; besides, they were very hungry, and having












t ae
THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO. 25

hastily wrapped up the golden leaves, they assured the old woman they
were not at all proud, notwithstanding the lands and castles they had
left behind them in the north country, and would willingly help to
lighten the wallet. The old woman could scarcely be persuaded to sit
down for pure humility, but at length she did, and before the wallet
was half empty, Scrub and Fairfeather firmly believed that there must
be something remarkably noble-looking about them. This was not
entirely owing to her ingenious discourse. The old woman was a wood-
witch ; her name was Buttertongue ; and all her time was spent in
making mead, which, being boiled with curious herbs and spells, had
the power of making all who drank it fall asleep and dream with their
eyes open. She had two dwarfs of sons; one was named Spy, and the
other Pounce. Wherever their mother went they were not far behind ;
and whoever tasted her mead was sure to be robbed by the dwarfs.

“Scrub and Fairfeather sat leaning against the old tree. The
cobbler had a lump of cheese in his hand; his wife held fast a hunch
of bread. ‘Their eyes and mouths were both open, but they were
dreaming of great grandeur at court, when the old woman raised her
shrill voice—

«What ho, my sons! come here and carry home the harvest.’

“No sooner had she spoken, than the two little dwarfs darted out
of the neighbouring thicket.

“«Tdle boys!’ cried the mother, ‘ what have ye done to-day to help
our living ?’

“*]T have been to the city, said Spy, ‘and could see nothing.
These are hard times for us—everybody minds their business so
contentedly since that cobbler came; but here is a leathern doublet
which his page threw out of the window; it’s of no use, but I brought
it to let you see I was not idle” And he tossed down Spare’s doublet,
with the merry leaves in it, which he had carried like a bundle on his
little back.

“ Toexplain how Spy came by it, I must tell
you that the forest was not far from the great city
where Spare lived in such high esteem. All
things had gone well with the cobbler till the
king thought that it was quite unbecoming to
see such a worthy man without a servant. His
majesty, therefore, to let all men understand his
royal favour toward Spare, appointed one of his
own pages to wait upon him. The name of this
youth was Tinseltoes, and, though he was the
seventh of the king’s pages, nobody in all the
court had grander notions. Nothing could please

B


26 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

him that had not gold or silver about it, and his grandmother feared
he would hang himself for being appointed page to a cobbler. As for
Spare, if anything could have troubled him, this token of his majesty’s
kindness would have done it. .

‘The honest man had been so used to serve himself that the page
was always in the way, but his merry leaves came to his assistance; and,
to the great surprise of his grandmother, Tinseltoes took wonderfully
to the new service. Some said it was because Spare gave him nothing
to do but play at bowls all day on the palace-green. Yet one thing
grieved the heart of Tinseltoes, and that was his master’s leathern
doublet, but for it he was persuaded people would never remember that
Spare had been a cobbler, and the page took a deal of pains to let him
see how unfashionable it was at court ; but Spare answered Tinseltoes
as he had done the king, and at last, finding nothing better would do,
the page got up one fine morning earlier than his master, and tossed
the leathern doublet out of the back window into a certain lane where
Spy found it, and brought it to his mother.

“«That nasty thing!’ said the old woman ; ‘where is the good in
abe

“ By this time, Pounce had taken everything of value from Scrub
and Fairfeather—the looking-glass, the silver-rimmed horn, the
husband’s scarlet coat, the wife’s gay mantle, and, above all, the.
golden leaves, which so rejoiced old Buttertongue and her sons, that
they threw the leathern doublet over the sleeping cobbler for a jest,
and went off to their hut in the heart of the forest.

‘The sun was going down when Scrub and Fairfeather awoke from
dreaming that they had been made a lord and a lady, and sat clothed
in silk and velvet, feasting with the king in his palace-hall. It wasa
great disappointment to find their golden leaves and all their best
things gone. Scrub tore his hair, and vowed to take the old woman’s
life, while Fairfeather lamented sore; but Scrub, feeling cold for want
of his coat, put on the leathern doublet without asking or caring whence
it came.

“Scarcely was it buttoned on when a change came over him; he
addressed such merry discourse to Fairfeather, that, instead of lamen-
tations, she made the wood ring with laughter. Both busied them-
selves in getting up a hut of boughs, in which Scrub kindled a fire
with a flint and steel, which, together with his pipe, he had brought
unknown to Fairfeather, who had told him the like was never heard of.
atcourt. Then they found a pheasant’s nest at the root of an old oak,
made a meal of roasted eggs, and went to sleep on a heap of long green
grass which they had gathered, with nightingales singing all night long
in the old trees about them. So it happened that Scrub and Fair-
THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO. 27

feather stayed day after day in the forest, making their hut larger and
more comfortable against the winter, living on wild birds’ eggs and
berries, and never thinking of their lost golden leaves, or their journey
to court.

“In the meantime Spare had got up and missed his doublet.
Tinseltoes, of course, said he knew nothing about it. The whole
palace was searched, and every servant questioned, till all the court
wondered why such a fuss was made about an old leathern doublet.
That very day things came back to their old fashion. Quarrels began
among the lords, and jealousies among the ladies. The king said his

>
subjects did not pay him half enough taxes, the queen wanted more

2
jewels, the servants took to their old bickerings and got up some new
ones. Spare found himself getting wonderfully dull, and
very much out of place: nobles began
to ask what business a cobbler had
at the king’s table, and his majesty
ordered the palace chronicles to
be searched for a_ precedent.
The cobbler was too wise
to tell all he had lost with
that doublet, but being
by this time somewhat
familiar with court cus-
toms, he proclaimed a
reward of fifty gold
pieces to any who
would bring him news con-
cerning it.

““Scarcely was this made known in the city, when the gates and
outer courts of the palace were filled by men, women, and children,
some bringing leathern doublets of every cut and colour; some with
tales of what they had heard and seen in their walks about the neigh-
bourhood ; and so much news concerning all sorts of great people came
out of these stories, that lords and ladies ran to the king with
complaints of Spare as a speaker of slander; and his majesty, being
now satisfied that there was no example in all the palace records of
such a retainer, issued a decree banishing the cobbler for ever from
court, and confiscating all his goods in favour of Tinseltoes.

“That royal edict was scarcely published before the page was in
full possession of his rich chamber, his costly garments, and all the
presents the courtiers had given him; while Spare, having no longer
the fifty pieces of gold to give, was glad to make his escape out of the
back window, for fear of the nobles, who vowed to be revenged on







28 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

him, and the crowd, who were prepared to stone him for cheating them
about his doublet.

“The window from which Spare let himself down with a strong
rope, was that from which Tinseltoes had tossed the doublet, and as
the cobbler came down late in the twilight, a poor woodman, with a
heavy load of fagots, stopped and stared at him in great astonishment.

‘«“«What’s the matter, friend?’ said Spare. ‘Did you never see a
man coming down from a back window before ?”

“«Why, said the woodman, ‘the last morning I passed here a
leathern doublet came out of that very window, and [ll be bound you
are the owner of it.’

“That I am, friend,” said the cobbler. ‘Can you tell me which
way that doublet went ?”

“(As [| walked on, said the woodman, -‘a dwarf, called Spy,
bundled it up and ran off to his mother in the forest.’

“«Honest friend,’ said Spare, taking off the last of his fine clothes
(a grass-green mantle edged with gold), ‘Vlugive y@ this if you will
follow the dwarf, and bring me back my doublet’...

“<¢Tt would not be good to carry fagots in, said the woodman.
‘But if you want back your doublet, the road to the forest lies at the
end of this lane, and he trudged away. EN 4:

“Determined to find his doublet, and sure that neither crowd nor
courtiers could catch him in the forest, Spare went on-his way, and was
soon among the tall trees; but neither hut.agr dwarf>could he see.
Moreover, the night came on; the ,wood™ ‘was “dark and tangled, but
here and there the moon shone through its alleys, the great owls flitted
‘about, and the-nightingales sang. So he went:on, hoping: to find some
place of shelter. At last the red light of a fire, gleaming through a
thicket,.led ‘him to: the door; of a low hut. It;Stood half open, as if
there was nothing to fear, and within he saw his. brother Scrub snoring
loudly on. a bed of grass, at the foot of which lay his own leathern
doublet; while Fairfeather, in a kirtle made of plaited rushes, sat







roasting pheasants’ eggs by the fire. es Pa
“«* Good evening, mistress,’ said Spare, stepping"in =

‘The blaze shone on him, but so: ¢hanged was: her*brother-in-law
with his court. life, that Fairfeather did not know him, and she answered
far more courteously than was her wont. —* 4

“«* Good evening, master.. Whence come ye so late? but speak
low, for my good man has sorely tired: himself cleaving wood, and is
taking a sleep,.as you see, before supper.’ r

«A good rest to him,’ said Spare, perceiving he was -not .known.
“1 come from the court for a day’s. hunting, and have lost my way in
the forest.’

THE CHRISTMAS CUCKOO. 29

“«Sit down and have a share of our supper,’ said Fairfeather, ‘I
will put some more eggs in the ashes; and tell me the news of court
-—I used to think of it long ago when I was young and foolish.’

“«Djid you never go there?’ said the cobbler. ‘So fair a dame as
you would make the ladies marvel.’

“Vou are pleased to flatter,’ said Fairfeather ; ‘but my husband
has a brother there, and we left our moorland village to try our fortune
also. An old woman enticed us with fair words and strong drink at
the entrance of this forest, where we fell asleep and dreamt of great
things; but when we woke, everything had been robbed from us-—my
looking-glass, my scarlet cloak, my husband’s Sunday coat; and, in
place of all, the robbers left him that old leathern doublet, which he has
worn ever since, and never was so merry in all his life, though we live
in this poor hut.’

“¢Tt is a shabby doublet, that,’ said Spare, taking up the garment.
and seeing that it was his own, for the merry leaves were still sewed in
its lining. ‘It would be good for hunting in, however—your husband
would be glad to part with it, I dare say, in exchange for this handsome
cloak ;’ and he pulled off the green mantle and buttoned on the doublet,
much to Fairfeather’s delight, who ran and shook Scrub, crying—

“*Hysband! husband! rise and see what a good bargain I have
made.’

“Scrub gave one closing snore, and muttered something about the root
being hard; but he rubbed his eyes, gazed up at his brother, and said—

“« Spare, is that really you? How did you like the court, and have
you made your fortune ?’

“«That I have, brother,’ said Spare, ‘in getting back my own good
leathern doublet. Come, let us eat eggs, and rest ourselves here this
night. In the morning we will return to our own old hut, at the end
of the moorland village where the Christmas Cuckoo will come and
bring us leaves.’

“Scrub and Fairfeather agreed. So in the morning they all
returned, and found the old hut little the worse for wear and weather.
The neighbours came about them to ask the news of court, and see if
they had made their fortune. Everybody was astonished to find the
three poorer than ever, but somehow they liked to go back to the hut.
Spare brought out the lasts and awls he had hidden in a corner ; Scrub
and he began their old trade, and the whole north country found out
that there never were such cobblers.

“ They mended the shoes of lords and ladies as well as the common
people; everybody was satisfied. Their custom increased from day to
day, and all that were disappointed, discontented, or unlucky, came to
the hut as in old times, before Spare went to court.
30 GRANNY’S IVONDERFUL CHATR.

ght them presents, the poor did them service. The

“The rich brou
hut itself changed, no one knew how. Flowering honeysuckle grew
over its roof; red and white roses grew thick about its door. Moreover,
the Christmas Cuckoo always came on the first of April, bringing three
leaves of the merry tree—for Scrub and Fairfeather would have no
more golden ones. So it was with them when I last heard the news of

the north country.”

“What a summer-house that hut would make for me, mamma!”
said the Princess Greedalind.

“We must have it brought here bodily,” said Queen Wantall; but
the chair was silent, and a lady and two noble squires, clad in russet-
coloured satin and yellow buskins, the like of which had never been
seen at that court, rose up and said—

“ That’s our story.”

“T have not heard such a tale,” said
King Winwealth, “since my _ brother
Wisewit went from me, and was lost in
the forest. Redheels, the seventh of my
pages, go and bring this little maid a pair
of scarlet shoes with golden buckles.”

The seventh page immediately
brought from the royal store a pair of
scarlet satin shoes with buckles of gold.
Snowflower never had seen the like before, and joyfully thanking the
king, she dropped a courtesy, seated herself and said—‘ Chair of my
grandmother, take me to the worst kitchen.” Immediately the chair
marched away as it came, to the admiration of that noble company.

The little girl was allowed to sleep on some straw at the kitchen
fire that night. Next day they gave her ale with the scraps the cook
threw away. The feast went on with great music and splendour, and
the people clamoured without; but in the evening King Winwealth
again fell into low spirits, and the royal command was told to Snow-
flower by the chief scullion, that she and her chair should go to the
highest banquet hall, for his majesty wished to hear another story.

When Snowflower had washed her face, and dusted her chair, she
went up seated as before, only that she had on the scarlet shoes.
Queen Wantall and her daughter looked more spiteful than ever, but
some of the company graciously noticed Snowflower’s courtesy, and
were pleased when she laid down her head, saying, “Chair of my
grandmother, tell me a story.”

“Listen,” said the clear voice from under the cushion, “ to the story
of Lady Greensleeves.”


CHAPTER IV.

The Lords of the White and Grep Castles.

country. Their lands lay between a broad river and an old
oak forest, whose size was so great that no man knew it. In
the midst of his land each lord had a stately castle ; one was
built of the white freestone, the other of the grey granite. So the one
was called Lord of the White Castle, and the other Lord of the Grey.

(3 NCE upon a time there lived two noble lords in the east





“ There were no lords like them in all the east country for nobleness
and bounty. Their tenants lived in peace and plenty; all strangers
were hospitably entertained at their castles; and every autumn they
sent men with axes into the forest to hew down the great trees, and
chop them up into firewood for the poor. Neither hedge nor ditch
divided their lands, but these lords never disputed. They had been
friends from their youth. Their ladies had died long ago, but the
Lord of the Grey Castle had a little son, and the Lord of the White a
little daughter ; and when they feasted in each other’s halls it was
their custom to say, ‘When our children grow up they will marry,
32 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHALR.

and have our castles and our lands, and keep our friendship in
memory.’

“So the lords and their little children, and tenants, lived happily
till one Michaelmas night, as they were all feasting in the hall of the
White Castle, there came a traveller to the gate, ‘who was welcomed
and feasted as usual. He had seen many strange sights and countries,
and, like most people, he liked to tell his travels. The lords were
delighted with his tales, as they sat round the fire drinking wine after
supper, and at length the Lord of the White Castle, who was very
curious, said— = :

“* Good stranger, what was the ee wonder you ever saw in
all your travels?’ = ©

“The most wonderful sight that ever L saw,’ replied the traveller,

‘was at the end of yonder forest, where in -an ancient?;vooden house
there sits an old woman weaving her own hair into grey cloth on an
old crazy loom. When she wants more, yarn she cuts ff her own grey
hair, and it grows so quickly that though saw it, n the morning,
it was out of the door before noon. She told m was her purpose
to sell the cloth, but none of all who came that way had yet bought
any, she asked so great a price; and, only ‘the way is so long and
dangerous throtigh that, wide forest full- of boars and wolves, some rich
lord like you might buy itfora mantle’ = ~

“ All. who- heard ‘this story were’, astonts hed, but when the
travelle vd” gore on his way the. Lord. of “the White Castle could
neithe# eat. nor. sleep for wishing ta sée the ld woman that wove her
own haig. » At. length he made ‘up his mind to, explore the forest in
search’ of her ancient house, and told*the Lord:of the Grey Castle his
intention, Being a prudent man, this ‘lord replied that traveller’s tales
were not. always to be trusted, and ear nestly advised him against under-
taking such a “long and dangerous journey, for few that went far into
that forest ever returned?” However, when the curious lord would go
in spite of all, he vowed, to bear him company for friendship’s sake,
and they agreed to set out privately, lest the other lords of the land
might laugh at them. The Lord of the White Castle had a steward
who had served him many years, and his name was Reckoning Robin.
To him he said—-

“*T am going on a long journey with my friend. Be careful of my
goods, deal justly with my tenants, and above all things be kind to my
little daughter Loveleaves till my return ;’ and the steward answered—

“ «Be sure, my lord, I will,

“The Lord of the Grey Castle also had a steward who had served
him many years, and his name was Wary Will. To him he said —

“«T am going on a journey with my friend. Be careful of my


















THE LORDS OF THE WHITE AND GREV CASTLES. 33

goods, deal justly with my tenants, and above all things be kind to my
little son Woodwender till my return ;’ and his steward answered
him—

“« Be sure, my lord, I will.’

“So these lords kissed their children while they slept, and set out
each with his staff and mantle before sunrise through the old oak forest.
The children missed their fathers, the tenants missed their lords. None
but the stewards could tell what had become of them; but seven
months wore away, and they did not come back. The lords had
thought their stewards faithful, because they served so well under their
eyes ; but instead of that, both were proud and crafty, and thinking
that some evil had happened to their masters, they set themselves to
be lords in their room.

“ Reckoning Robin had a son called Hardhold, and Wary Will, a
daughter called Drypennny. There was not a sulkier girl or boy in
the country, but their fathers resolved to make a young lord and lady
of them; so they took the silk clothes which Woodwender and Love-
leaves used to wear, to dress them, clothing the lords’ children in frieze
and canvas. Their garden flowers and ivory toys were given to Hard-
hold and Drypenny; and at last the stewards’ children sat at the chief
tables, and slept in the best chambers, while Woodwender and Love-
leaves were sent to herd the swine and sleep on straw in the granary.

“The poor children had no one to take their part. Every morning
at sunrise they were sent out—each with a barley loaf and a bottle of
sour milk, which was to serve them for
breakfast, dinner, and supper—to watch a_
great herd of swine on a wide unfenced .
pasture hard by the forest. The grass
was scanty, and the swine were continu-
ally straying into the wood in search of
acorns; the children knew that if they
were lost the wicked stewards would
punish them, and between gathering and
keeping their herds in order, they were
readier to sleep on the granary straw at
night than ever they had been within their
own silken curtains. Still Woodwender oe
and Loveleaves helped and comforted Oe eat
each other, saying their fathers would —
come back, or God would send them some friends: so, in spite of
swine-herding and hard living, they looked blithe and handsome as
ever; while Hardhold and Drypenny grew crosser and uglier every
day, notwithstanding their fine clothes and the best of all things.


34 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

“The crafty stewards did not like this. They thought their
children ought to look genteel, and Woodwender and Loveleaves like
young swineherds ; so they sent them to a wilder pasture, still nearer
the forest, and gave them two great black hogs, more unruly than all
the rest, to keep. One of these hogs belonged to Hardhold, and the
other to Drypenny. Every evening when they came home the
steward’s children used to come down and feed them, and it was their
delight to reckon up what price they would bring when properly
fattened.

“One sultry day, about midsummer, Woodwender and Loveleaves
sat down in the shadow of a mossy rock: the swine grazed about them

more quietly than usual, and they

gree plaited rushes and talked to each

“. .* other, till, as the sun was sloping

down the sky, Woodwender saw that

the two great hogs were missing.

Thinking they must have gone to

the forest, the poor children ran to

search for them. They heard the

thrush singing and the wood-doves

calling; they saw the squirrels leap-

ing from bough to bough, and the

great deer bounding by; but though

they searched for hours, no trace of

- + the favourite hogs could be seen.

'* Loveleaves and Woodwender durst

not go home without them. Deeper and deeper they ran into the

forest, searching and calling, but all in vain; and when the woods

began to darken with the fall of evening, the children feared they had
lost their way.

“Tt was known that they never feared the forest, nor all the boars
and wolves that were in it; but being weary, they wished for some
place of shelter, and took a green path through the trees, thinking it
might lead to the dwelling of some hermit or forester. A fairer way
Woodwender and Loveleaves had never walked. The grass was soft
and mossy, a hedge of wild roses and honeysuckle grew on either side,
and the red light of sunset streamed through the tall trees above. On
they went, and it led them straight to a great open dell, covered with
the loveliest flowers, bordered with banks of wild strawberries, and all
overshadowed by one enormous oak, whose like had never been seen
in grove or forest. Its branches were as large as full-grown trees.
Its trunk was wider than a country church, and its height like that of a
castle. There were mossy seats at its great root, and when the tired


THE LORDS OF THE WHITE AND GREY CASTLES. 35

children had gathered as many strawberries as they cared for, they sat
down on one, hard by a small spring that bubbled up as clear as crystal.
The huge oak was covered with thick ivy, in which thousands of birds
had their nests. Woodwender and Loveleaves watched them flying
home from all parts of the forest, and at last they saw a lady coming by
the same path which led them to the dell. She wore a gown of russet
colour; her yellow hair was braided and bound with a crimson fillet.
In her right hand she carried a holly branch ; but the most remarkable
part of her attire was a pair of long sleeves, as green as the very
grass,

“«Who are you ?’ she said, ‘that sit so late beside my well?’ and
the children told her their story, how they had first lost the hogs, then
their way, and were afraid to go home to the wicked stewards.

“«Well, said the lady, ‘ye are the fairest swineherds that ever came
this way. Choose whether ye will go home and keep hogs for Hard-
hold and Drypenny, or live in the free forest with me.’

«¢We will stay with you,’ said the children, ‘for we like not keeping
swine. Besides, our fathers went through this forest, and we may
meet them some day coming home.’

“While they spoke, the lady slipped her holly branch through the
ivy, as if it had been a key—presently a door opened in the oak, and
there was a fair house. The windows were of rock crystal, but they
could not be seen from without. The walls and floor were covered
with thick green moss, as soft as velvet. There were low seats and
a round table, vessels of carved wood, a hearth inlaid with curious
stones, an oven, and a store chamber for provisions against the winter.
When they stepped in, the lady said—

“© A hundred years have I lived here, and my name is Lady
Greensleeves. No friend or servant have I had except my dwarf
Corner, who comes to me at the end of harvest with his handmill, his pan-
nier, and his axe: with these he grinds the nuts, and gathers the berries,
and cleaves the firewood, and blithely we live all the winter. But
Corner loves the frost and fears the sun, and when the topmost boughs
begin to bud, he returns to his country far in the north, so I am lonely
in the summer time.’

“ By this discourse the children saw how welcome they were. Lady
Greensleeves gave them deer’s milk and cakes of nut-flour, and soft
green moss to sleep on; and they forgot all their troubles, the wicked
stewards, and the straying swine. Early in the morning a troop of
does came to be milked, fairies brought flowers, and birds brought
berries, to show Lady Greensleeves what had bloomed and ripened
She taught the children to make cheese of the does’ milk, and wine of
the wood-berries. She showed them the stores of honey which wild
36 GRANNY S WONDERFUL CHAIR.










bees had made, and:

d left .in: chollow trees, the rarest plants of the forest,
and the herbs aa

1ade all. its.creattires tame.
Weoedwender and’ Loveleaves lived with her in
toil and care; and the children would have
oft shear no tidings: of their fathers. At last
| to fade@and* the flowers ‘to fall; Lady Greensleeves
cOming ; and che moonlight night she heaped
tre, and#set her door open, when Woodwender and
o: sleep, saying she expected some old friends
the forest.
‘Ot ‘quite so curious as her father, the Eon of the
: *she-kept awake to see what would happen; and
terribly frightened ‘the Tittle girl ‘was when in walked a great brown
“beat:
ei" Good evening, lady, said the ne
8 © «Good evening, bear, “Said: Lady Greensleeves. ‘What is the
“news in -your neighbourhéod ? Pe
= “©Not* much,’ said the bear ; ‘only the fawns are growing very
cunning+-one can’t catch aboye three i in a day.’
“ «© 'Bhat’s bad news,’ ssaic dy Greensleeves ; and immediately in
walked agreat wild cat.: S
St vening, lady,’
evening, cat,’
‘oatr neighbourhood +
“much, said the=























‘What is the











2G ies







ven BEE Good. evening, raven,’ said Lady
Greensleeves. “What is the news in your
“neighbourhood : =
““Not.much,’ said the raven; ‘only
aaa hundred years or so we shall be very
genteel and private—the trees will be so
thick?’

“* How. is that?’ said Lady Green-
sleeves. —

“*Oh!” said the raven, ‘have you not
_ heard how the king of the forest fairies laid
ds, ati were travelling through his dominions
hat weaves her own hair? T hey had thinned
tting firewood for the poor: so the king met





a spell on two noble
to see the old woman
his oaks every yea


‘
:
E
&
y


THE LORDS OF THE WHITE AND GREY CASTLES. 37

them in the likeness of a hunter, and asked them to drink out of his
oaken goblet, because the day was warm; and when the two lords
drank, they forgot their lands and their tenants, their castles and their
children, and minded nothing in all this world but the planting of acorns,
which they do day and night, by the power of the spell, in the heart of
the forest, and will never cease till some one makes them pause in
their work before the sun sets, and then the spell will be broken.’

«¢Ah!’ said Lady Greensleeves, ‘he is a great prince, that king of the
forest fairies; and there is worse work in the world than planting acorns.’

“ Soon after, the bear, the cat, and the raven, bade Lady Green-
sleeves good night. She closed the door, put out the light, and went
to sleep on the soft moss as usual.

“Tn the morning Loveleaves told Woodwender what she had heard,
and they went to Lady Greensleeves where she milked the does, and
said—

««We heard what the raven told last night, and we know the two
lords are our fathers: tell us how the spell may be broken !’

«“<«T fear the king of the forest fairies, said Lady Greensleeves,
‘because I live here alone, and have no friend but my dwarf Corner ;
but I will tell you what you may do. At the end of the path which
leads from this dell turn your faces to the north, and you will finda
narrow way sprinkled over with black feathers—keep that path, no
matter how it winds, and it will lead you straight to the ravens’
neighbourhood, where you will find your fathers planting acorns under
the forest trees. Watch till the sun is near setting, and tell them the
most wonderful things you know to make them forget their work ; but
be sure to tell nothing but truth, and drink nothing but running water,
or you will fall into the power of the fairy king’

“The children thanked her for this good council. She packed up
cakes and cheese for them in a bag of woven grass, and they soon found
the narrow way sprinkled over with black feathers. It was very long,
and wound through the thick trees in so many circles that the children
were often weary, and sat down to rest. When the night came, they
found a mossy hollow in the trunk of an old tree; where they laid them-
selves down, and slept all the summer night—for Woodwender and
Loveleaves never feared the forest. So they went, eating their cakes and
cheese when they were hungry, drinking from the running stream, and
sleeping in the hollow trees, till on the evening of the seventh day they
came into the ravens’ neighbourhood. The tall trees were laden with
nests and black with ravens. There was nothing to be heard but con-
tinual cawing; and ina great opening where the oaks grew thinnest, the
children saw their own fathers busy planting acorns. Lach lord had on
the velvet mantle in which he left his castle, but it was worn to rags
38 GRANNY S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

with rough work in the forest. Their hair and beards had grown long ;
their hands were soiled with earth; each had an old wooden spade,
and on all sides lay heaps of acorns. The children called them by their,
names, and ran to kiss them, each saying—‘ Dear father, come back to
your castle and your people!’ but the lords replied— .

“*We know of no castles and no people. There is nothing in all
this world but oak-trees and acorns.’

‘“Woodwender and Loveleaves told them of all their former state in
vain—nothing would make them pause fora minute: so the poor children
first sat down and cried, and then slept on the cold grass, for the sun
set, and the lords worked on. When they awoke it was broad day;
Woodwender cheered up his sister, saying —‘ We are hungry, and there
are still two cakes in the bag, let us share one of them—who knows
but something may happen ?’

“So they divided the cake, and ran to the lords, saying—‘ Dear
fathers, eat with us:’ but the lords said—

‘There is no use for meat or drink. Let us plant our acorns.’

“ Loveleaves and Woodwender sat down, and ate that cake in
great sorrow. When they had finished, both went to a stream hard by,
and began to drink the clear water with a large acorn shell; and as
they drank there came through the oaks a gay young hunter, his
mantle was green as the grass: about his neck there hung a crystal
bugle, and in his hand he carried a huge oaken goblet, carved with
flowers and leaves, and rimmed with crystal. Up to the brim it was
filled with milk, on which the rich cream floated; and as the hunter
came near, he said— Fair children, leave that muddy water, and come
and drink with me;’ but Woodwender and Loveleaves answered—

“«Thanks, good hunter; but we have promised to drink nothing
but running water.’ Still the hunter came nearer with his goblet,
saying —

“*The water is foul: it may do for swineherds and woodcutters,
but not for such fair children as you. Tell me, are you not the children
of mighty kings? Were you not reared in palaces?’ But the boy
and girl answered him—

““No: we were reared in castles, and are the children of yonder
lords; tell us how the spell that is upon them may be broken!’ and
immediately the hunter turned from them with an angry look, poured
out the milk upon the ground and went away with his empty goblet.

“ Loveleaves and Woodwender were sorry to see the rich cream
spilled, but they remembered Lady Greensleeves’ warning and seeing
they could do no better, each got a withered branch and began to help
the lords, scratching up the ground with the sharp end, and planting
acorns; but their fathers took no notice of them, nor all that they
THE LORDS OF THE WHITE AND GREY CASTLES. 39

could say; and when the sun grew warm at noon, they went again to
drink at the running stream. Then there came through the oaks an-
other hunter, older than the first, and clothed in yellow: about his
neck there hung a silver bugle, and in his hand he carried an oaken
goblet, carved with leaves and fruit, rimmed with silver, and filled with
mead to the brim. This hunter also asked them to drink, told them
the stream was full of frogs, and asked them if they were not a young
prince and princess dwelling in the woods for their pleasure? But
when Woodwender and Loveleaves answered as before--‘We have
promised to drink only running water, and are the children of yonder
lords: tell us how the spell may be broken !’—he turned from them
with an angry look, poured out the mead, and went his way.

“ All that afternoon the children worked beside their fathers, plant-
ing acorns with the withered branches; but the lords would mind
neither them nor their words. And when the .
evening drew near they were very hungry; so ;
the children divided their last cake, and when
no persuasion would make the lords eat with
them, they went to the banks of the stream,
and began to eat and drink, though their
hearts were heavy.

“ The sun was getting low, and the ravens
were coming home to their nests in the high
trees; but one, that seemed old and weary,
alighted near them to drink at the stream. As
they ate the raven lingered, and picked up the
small crumbs that fell.

“* Brother,’ said Loveleaves, ‘this raven is surely
hungry ; let us give it a little bit, though it is our last Fe
cake.’ ; . ¥

“ Woodwender agreed, and each gave a bit to the raven; but
its great bill finished the morsels in a moment, and hopping
nearer, it looked them in the face by turns.

“«The poor raven is still hungry,’ said Woodwender, and he gave
it another bit. When that was gobbled, it came to Loveleaves, who
gave it a bit too, and so on till the raven had eaten the whole of their
last cake.

‘““ Well,’ said Woodwender, ‘at least, we can have a drink.’ But
as they stooped to the water, there came through the oaks another
hunter, older than the last, and clothed in scarlet: about his neck there
hung a golden bugle, and in his hand he carried a huge oaken goblet,
carved with ears of corn and clusters of grapes, rimmed with gold, and
filled to the brim with wine. He also said—



40 GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

“¢ Leave this muddy water, and drink with me._ It is full of toads,
and not fit for such fair children. Surely ye are from fairyland, and
were reared in its queen’s palace!’ But the children said—

“We will drink nothing but this water, and yonder lords are our
fathers: tell us how the spell may be broken!’ And the hunter turned
from them with an angry look, poured out the wine on the grass, and
went his way. When he was gone, the old raven looked up into their
faces, and said—

“ may be broken. Yonder is the sun, going down behind yon western
trees. Before it sets, go to the lords, and tell them how their stewards
used you, and made you herd hogs for Hardhold and Drypenny.
When you see them listening, catch up their wooden spades, and keep
them if you can till the sun goes down.’

“ Woodwender and Loveleaves thanked the raven, and where it
flew they never stopped to see, but running to the lords began to tell
as they were bidden. At first the lords would not listen, but as the
childrén related how they had been made to sleep on straw, how they
had been sent to herd hogs in the wild pasture, and what trouble they
had with the unruly swine, the acorn planting grew slower, and at last
they dropped their spades.
Then Woodwender, catching
up his father’s spade, ran to
the stream and threw it in.
Loveleaves did the same for
g.- the Lord of the White Castle.
That moment the sun dis-
appeared behind the
western oaks, and the
lords stood up, looking,
like men just awoke, on
the forest, on the sky,
and on their children.

“So this strange
story has ended, for
Woodwender and
Loveleaves went home
rejoicing with their fathers.
Each lord returned to his
castle, and all their tenants
made merry. The fine toys and the silk clothes, the flower-gardens
and the best chambers, were taken from Hardhold and Drypenny, for
the lords’ children got them again; and the wicked stewards, with their















THE LORDS OF THE WHITE AND GREY CASTLES. 41

cross boy and girl, were sent to herd swine, and live in huts in the
wild pasture, which everybody said became them better. The Lord of
the White Castle never again wished to see the old woman that wove
her own hair, and the Lord of the Grey Castle continued to be his
friend. As for Woodwender and Loveleaves, they met with no more
misfortunes, but grew up, and were married, and inherited the two
castles and the broad lands of their fathers. Nor did they forget the
lonely Lady Greensleeves, for it was known in the east country that
she and her dwarf Corner always came to feast with them in the
Christmas time, and at midsummer they always went to live with her
in the great oak in the forest.”

“Oh! mamma, if we had that oak!” said the Princess Greedalind.

“Where does it grow?” said Queen Wantall: but the chair was
silent, and a noble lord and lady, clad in green velvet, flowered with
gold, rose up and said—

“ That’s our story.”

“Excepting the tale of yesterday,” said King Winwealth, “I have
not heard such a story since my brother Wisewit went from me, and
was lost in the forest. Gaygarters, the sixth of my
pages, go and bring this maiden a pair of white silk
hose with golden clocks on them.”

Queen Wantall and Princess Greedalind at this
looked crosser than ever; but Gaygarters brought the
white silk hose, and Snowflower, having dropped her
courtesy, and taken her seat, was carried once more to
the kitchen where they gave her a mattress that night,
and next day she got the ends of choice dishes.

The feast, the music, and the dancing went on, so
did the envies within and the clamours without the
palace. In the evening King Winwealth fell again into low spirits
after supper, and a message coming down from the banquet hall, the
kitchen-maid told Snowflower to prepare herself, and go up with her
grandmother’s chair, for his majesty wished to hear another story.
Having washed her face and combed her hair, put on her scarlet shoes,
and her gold-clocked hose, Snowflower went up as before, seated in her
grandmother's chair; and after courtesying as usual to the king, the
queen, the princess, and the noble company, the little girl laid down
her head, saying—“ Chair of my grandmother, tell me a story ;” and
a clear voice from under the cushion said—

“Listen to the story of the Greedy Shepherd.”


CHAPTER V.

The Greedy POPPE

“cc

NCE upon a time -there lived in the south country two
brothers, whose business it was to keep sheep: on a great
grassy plain, which was bounded on the one side by a forest,
fo ba on the other Py a chain of high hills. No one lived on






. te were’“none among. them” hore ral. than these two
brothers, one of whom was calféd Clutch, and the akind. Though
brethren born, two men’ of. distant coutttties’ could” not be more unlike
in disposition. Clutch thought of nothing in this World but how to
catch and keep some profit for himself; while Kinet would have shared
his last morsel with a hungry dog. ° This vet
keep all his father’s sheep when thé old. i dead and gone,
because he was the eldest brother, allowing‘ Kind thing but the place
of a servant to help him in looking’ after them. Kifid Svouldn’ t quarrel
with his brother for the sake of the. sheep, so he helped him to keep
them, and-Clutch had all his own way;~ This made hith: agreeable.
For sometime the brothers“Tived peaceably in their fathér’s cottage,
which stood low and lonely wfi#ér the shadow’ ofa great sycamore- -tree,
and kept their flock with pipe and crook on, th srassy plain, till new
troubles arose through Clutch’s covetousness. «3-8 -
“On that plain thereivas neither. town, nor city, nor market a
where people might sell 6r buy BATHE all
The wool of their flocks mad
pues and cheese. ant feage tinh


















shearing € time, ceuee oie a certain ‘far-6Ff
aficient way to purchas® all the wo
give them-in exchange either goods or ones
“One midsummer it so poten that thes





we! ¥




THE GREEDY SHEPHERD. 43

the highest price for it. That was an unlucky happening for the sheep :
from thenceforth Clutch thought he could never get enough wool off
them. At the shearing time nobody clipped so close, and, in spite of
all Kind could do or say, he left the poor sheep as bare as if they had
been shaven ; and as soon as the wool grew
long enough to keep them warm, he was
ready with the shears again—no matter how
chilly might be the days, or how near the
winter. Kind didn’t like these doings, and
many a debate they caused between him
and his brother. Clutch always tried to
persuade him that close clipping was good
for the sheep, and Kind always strove to
make him think he had got all the wool—
so they were never done with disputes.
Still Clutch sold the wool, and stored up
his profits, and one midsummer after another
passed. The shepherds began to think
him a rich man, and close clipping might
have become the fashion, but for a strange
thing which happened to his flock.

“ The wool had grown well that summer.
He had taken two crops off them, and was
thinking of a third,—though the misty
mornings of autumn were come, and the
cold evenings made the shepherds put on
their winter cloaks,—when first the lambs,
and then the ewes, began to stray away; and search as the brothers
would, none of them was ever found again. Clutch blamed Kind with
being careless, and watched with all his might. Kind knew it was
not his fault, but he looked sharper than ever. Still the straying
went on. The flocks grew smaller every day, and all the brothers
could find out was, that the closest clipped were the first to go; and,
count the flock when they might, some were sure to be missed at the
folding.

“Kind grew tired of watching, and Clutch lost his sleep with
vexation. The other shepherds, over whom he had boasted of his
wool and his profits, were not sorry to see pride having a fall. Most
of them pitied Kind, but all of them agreed that they had marvellous
ill luck, and kept as far from them as they could for fear of sharing it.
Still the flock melted away as the months wore on. Storms and cold
weather never stopped them from straying, and when the spring came
back nothing remained with Clutch and Kind but three old ewes, the


44 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

quietest and lamest of their whole flock. They were watching these
ewes one evening, in the primrose time, when Clutch, who had never
kept his eyes off them that day, said—

«¢ Brother, there is wool to be
had on their backs.’

“<«Tt is too little to keep them
warm,’ said Kind. ‘ The east wind
still blows sometimes— but Clutch
was off to the cottage for the bag
and shears.

“ Kind was grieved to see his
brother so covetous, and to divert
his mind he looked up at the great
> hills: it was a sort of comfort to

2 Cee him, ever since their losses began,

to look at them evening and morn-

ing. Now their far-off heights were growing crimson with the setting

sun, but as he looked, three creatures like sheep scoured up a cleft in

one of them as fleet as any deer: and when Kind turned, he saw his

brother coming with the bag and shears, but not a single ewe was to

be seen. Clutch’s first question was, what had become of them; and

when Kind told him what he saw, the eldest brother scolded him with
might and main for ever lifting his eyes off them—

“¢Much good the hills and the sunset will do us,’ said he, ‘now
that we have not a single sheep. The other shepherds will hardly
give us room among them at shearing time or harvest; but for my
part, I'll not stay on this plain to be despised for poverty. If you like
to come with me, and be guided by my advice, we shall get service
somewhere. I have heard my father say that there were great shep-
herds living in old times beyond the hills; let us go and see if they
will take us for sheep-boys.’

“ Kind would rather have stayed. and tilled his father’s wheat-field,
hard by the cottage; but since his eldest brother would go, he resolved
to bear him company. Accordingly, next morning Clutch took his bag
and shears, Kind took his crook and pipe, and away they went over
the plain and up the hills. All who saw them thought that they had
lost their senses, for no shepherd had gone there for a hundred years,
and nothing was to be seen but wide moorlands, full of rugged rocks,
and sloping up, it seemed, to the very sky. Kind persuaded his brother
to take the direction the sheep had taken, but the ground was so rough
and steep that after two hours’ climbing they would gladly have turned
back, if it had not been that their sheep were gone, and the shepherds
would laugh at them.


THE GREEDY SHEPHERD. 45.

‘By noon they came to the stony cleft, up which the three old ewes
had scoured like deer; but both were tired, and sat down to rest.
Their feet were sore, and their hearts were heavy; but as they sat
there, there came a sound of music down the hills, as if a thousand
shepherds had been playing on their tops. Clutch and Kind had never
heard such music before. As they listened, the soreness passed from
their feet, and the heaviness from their hearts; and getting up, they
followed the sound up the cleft, and over a wide heath, covered with
purple bloom; till, at sunset, they came to the hill-top,and
saw a broad pasture, where violets grew thick among the
grass, and thousands of snow-white sheep were feeding,
while an old man sat in the midst of them, playing on his.
pipe. He wore a
long coat, the colour
of the holly leaves ;
his hair hung to his
waist, and his beard
to his knees; but
both were as white
as snow, and he had
the countenance of
one who had led a
quiet life, and known no cares nor losses.

“«Good father,’ said Kind, for his eldest brother hung back and
was afraid, ‘tell us what land is this, and where can we find service ;
for my brother and I are shepherds, and can well keep flocks from
straying, though we have lost cur own,’

«These are the hill pastures,’ said the old man, ‘and I am the
ancient shepherd. My flocks never stray, but I have employment for
you. Which of you can shear best ?’

“«Good father, said Clutch, taking courage, ‘I am the closest
shearer in all the plain country: you would not find as much wool as
would make a thread on a sheep when I have done with it.’

“«VYou are the man for my business,’ replied the old shepherd.
‘When the moon rises, I will call the flock you have to shear. Till
then sit down and rest, and take your supper out of my wallet.’

“Clutch and Kind gladly sat down by him among the violets, and,
opening a leathern bag which hung by his side, the old man gave them
cakes and cheese, and a horn cup to drink from at a stream hard by.
The brothers felt fit for any work after that meal; and Clutch rejoiced
in his own mind at the chance he had got for showing his skill with the
shears. ‘Kind will see how useful it is to cut close, he thought to
himself: but they sat with the old man, telling him the news of the




vg
46 GRANNY’S IVONDERFUL CHAIR.

plain, till the sun went down and the moon rose, and all the snow-white
sheep gathered and laid themselves down behind him. Then he took
his pipe and played a merry tune, when immediately there was heard
a great howling, and up the hills came a troop of shaggy wolves, with
hair so long that their eyes could scarcely be seen. Clutch would have
fled for fear, but the wolves stopped, and the old man said to him

“* Rise, and shear—this flock of mine have too much wool on them.’

“Clutch had never shorn wolves before, yet he couldn’t think of
losing the good service, and went forward with a stout heart; but the
first of the wolves showed its teeth, and all the rest raised such a how]
the moment he came near them, that Clutch was glad to throw down
his shears, and run behind the old man for safety—

“* Good father,’ cried he, ‘I will shear sheep, but not wolves.’

“«They must be shorn,’ said the old man, ‘or you go back to the
plains, and them after you; but whichever of you can shear them will
get the whole flock.’

“On hearing this, Clutch began to exclaim on his hard fortune,
and his brother who had brought him there to be hunted and devoured
by wolves ; but Kind, thinking that things could be no worse, caught
up the shears he had thrown away in his fright, and went boldly up to
the nearest wolf. To his great surprise, the wild creature seemed to
know him, and stood quietly to be shorn, while the rest of the flock
gathered round as if waiting their turn. Kind clipped neatly, but not
too close, as he had wished his brother to do with the sheep, and
heaped up the hair on one side. When he had done with one, another
came forward, and Kind went on shearing by the bright moonlight till
the whole flock were shorn. Then the old man said—

“* Ye have done well, take the wool and the flock for your wages,
return with them to the plain, and if you please, take this little-worth
brother of yours for a boy to keep them.’

“Kind did not much like keeping wolves, but before he could make
answer, they had all changed into the very sheep which had strayed
away so strangely. All of them had grown fatter and thicker of fleece,
and the hair he had cut off lay by his side, a heap of wool so fine and
soft that its like had never been seen on the plain.

“Clutch gathered it up in his empty bag, and glad was he to go
back to the plain with his brother ; for the old man sent them away
with their flock, saying no man might see the dawn of day on that
pasture but himself, for it was the ground of the fairies. So Clutch and
Kind went home with great gladness. All the shepherds came to hear
their wonderful story, and ever after liked to keep near them because
they had such good luck. They keep the sheep together till this day,
but Clutch has grown less greedy, and Kind alone uses the shears.”
THE GREEDY SHEPHERD. 47

With these words the voice ceased, and two shepherds, clad in
grass-green and crowned with garlands, rose up, and said—

“That’s our story.”

“Mamma,” said Princess Greedalind, “what a lovely playground
that violet pasture would make for me!”

“What wool could be had off all those snow-white sheep!” said
Queen Wantall: but King Winwealth said—

“Excepting yesterday's s tale, and the one that went before it, I have
not heard such a story as that since my brother Wisewit went from me,
and was lost in the forest. Spangledhose, the fifth of my pages, rise,
and bring this maiden a white satin gown.”

Snowflower took the white satin gown, thanked the king, courtseyed
to the good company, and went down on her chair to the best kitchen.
That night they gave her a new blanket, and next day she had a cold
pie for dinner. The music, the feast, and the spite continued within
the palace: so did the olamours without ; and his majesty, falling into
low spirits, as usual, after supper, one of the under cooks told Snow-
flower that a message had come down from the highest banquet hall for
her to go up with her grandmother's chair, and tell another story. Snow-
flower accordingly dressed herself in the red shoes, the gold-clocked
hose, and the white satin gown. All the company were glad to see her
and her chair coming, except the queen and the Princess Greedalind ;
and when the little girl had made her courtesy and laid down her head,
saying, “Chair of my grandmother, tell me a story,” the same clear
voice said—

“ Listen to the story of Fairyfoot.”
CHAPTER VI.

The Story of Fairyfoot.

town called Stumpinghame. It contained seven windmills,
a royal palace, a market place, and a prison, with every other
convenience befitting the capital of a kingdom. A capital
city was Stumpinghame, and its inhabitants thought it the only one in
the world. It stood in the midst of a great plain, which for three
leagues round its walls was covered with corn, flax, and orchards.
Beyond that lay a great circle of pasture land, seven leagues in breadth,
and it was bounded on all sides by a forest so thick and old that no
man in Stumpinghame knew its extent; and the opinion of the learned
was, that it reached to the end of the world.

“ There were strong reasons for this opinion. First, that forest was
known to be inhabited time out of mind by the fairies, and no hunter
cared to go beyond its borders—so all the west country believed it to
be solidly full of old trees to the heart. Secondly, the
people of Stumpinghame were no travellers—man,
woman, and child had feet so large and heavy that it

was by no means convenient to carry them far,

Whether it was the nature of the place or the
ce. = people, I cannot tell, but great feet had been
~~* the fashion there time immemorial, and the
higher the family the larger were they. It
was, therefore, the aim of everybody above
_ the degree of shepherds, and such-like
rustics, to swell out and enlarge their
feet by way of gentility; and so success-
ful were they in these undertakings that,
on a pinch, respectable people’s slippers
would have served for panniers.

“Stumpinghame had a king of its
own, and his name was Stiffstep; his
family was very ancient and large-footed.
His subjects called him Lord of the World, and he made a speech to
them every year concerning the grandeur of his mighty empire. His



i upon a time there stood far away in the west country a







THE STORY OF FAIR YFOOT. 49

queen, Hammerheel, was the greatest beauty in Stumpinghame. Her
majesty’s shoe was not much less than a fishing-boat ; their six children
promised to be quite as handsome, and all went well with them till the
birth of their seventh son.

“ For a long time nobody about the palace could understand what
was the matter—the ladies-in-waiting looked so astonished, and the
king so vexed ; but at last it was whispered through the city that the
queen’s seventh child had been born with such miserably small feet
that they resembled nothing ever seen or heard of in Stumpinghame,
except the feet of the fairies.

“The chronicles furnished no example of such an affliction ever
before happening in the royal family. The common people thought it
portended some great calamity to the city; the learned men began to
write books about it; and all the relations of the king and queen
assembled at the palace to mourn with them over their singular mis-
fortune. The whole court and most of the citizens helped in this mourn-
ing, but when it had lasted seven days they all found out it was of no
use. So the relations went to their homes, and the
people took to their work. If the learned men’s
books were written, nobody ever read them; and
to cheer up the queen’s spirits, the young prince
was sent privately out to the pasture lands, to be
nursed among the shepherds.

“The chief man there was called Fleece-
fold, and his wife’s name was Rough Ruddy.
They lived in a snug cottage with their
son Blackthorn, and their daughter Brown-
berry, and were thought great people, be-
cause they kept the king’s sheep. More-
over, Fleecefold’s family were known to be
ancient; and Rough Ruddy boasted that
she had the largest feet in all the pastures.
The shepherds held them in high respect,
and it grew still higher when the news
spread that the king’s seventh son had net
been sent to their cottage. People came
from all quarters to see the young prince, and great were the lamenta-
tions over his misfortune in having such small feet.

“The king and queen had given him fourteen names, beginning
with Augustus—such being the fashion in that royal family; but the
honest country people could not remember so many; besides, his feet
were the most remarkable thing about the child, so with one accord
they called him Fairyfoot. At first it was feared this might be high-



50 GRANNY S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

treason, but when no notice was taken by the king or his ministers, the
shepherds concluded it was no harm, and the boy never had another
name throughout the pastures. At court it was not thought polite to
speak of him at all. They did not keep his birthday, and he was never
sent for at Christmas, because the queen and her ladies could not bear
the sight. Once a year the undermost scullion was sent to see how he
did, with a bundle of his next brother’s cast-off clothes; and, as the
king grew old and cross, it was said he had thoughts of disowning him.

“So Fairyfoot grew in Fleecefold’s cottage. Perhaps the country
air made him fair and rosy—for all agreed that he would have been a
handsome boy but for his small feet, with which nevertheless he learned
to walk, and in time to run and to jump, thereby amazing everybody,
for such doings were not known among the children of Stumpinghame,
The news of court, however, travelled to the shepherds, and Fairyfoot
was despised among them. The old people thought him unlucky; the
children refused to play with him. Fleecefold was ashamed to have
him in his cottage, but he durst not disobey the king’s orders. More-
over, Blackthorn wore most of the clothes brought by the scullion. At
last, Rough Ruddy found out that the sight of such horrid jumping
would make her children vulgar; and, as soon as he was old enough,
she sent Fairyfoot every day to watch some sickly sheep that grazed on
a wild, weedy pasture, hard by the forest.

‘Poor Fairyfoot was often lonely and sorrowful ; many a time he
wished his feet would grow larger, or that people wouldn’t notice them
so much ; and all the comfort he had was running and jumping by him-
self in the wild pasture, and thinking that none of. the shepherds’
children could do the like, for all their pride of their great feet.

“Tired of this sport, he was lying in the shadow of
a mossy rock one warm summer's noon, with the sheep
feeding around, when a robin, pursued by a great hawk,
flew into the old velvet cap which lay on the ground beside
him. Fairyfoot covered it up, and the hawk, frightened
by his shout, flew away.

“* Now you may go, poor
robin!’ he said, opening the
cap; but instead of the bird,
out sprang a little man dressed
in russet-brown, and looking
as if he were an hundred years
old. Fairyfoot could not speak
for ‘astonishment, but the little man said—

““Thank you for your shelter, and be sure I will do as much for
you. Call on me if you are ever in trouble, my name is Robin Good-







THE STORY OF FAIR YVFOOT. 51

fellow ;’ and darting off, he was out of sight in an instant. For days
the boy wondered who that little man could be, but he told nobody,
for the little man’s feet were as small as his own, and it was clear he
would be no favourite in Stumpinghame. Fairyfoot kept the story to
himself, and at last midsummer came. That evening was a feast
among the shepherds. There were bonfires on the hills, and fun in the
villages. But Fairyfoot sat alone beside his sheepfold, for the children
of his village had refused to let him dance with them about the bonfire,
and he had gone there to bewail the size of his feet, which came between
him and so many good things. Fairyfoot had never felt so lonely in
all his life, and remembering the little man, he plucked up spirit, and
cried—

“* Hol! Robin Goodfellow!’

“* Here I am,’ said a shrill voice at his elbow; and there stood the
little man himself.

“*T am very lonely, and no one will play with me, because my feet
are not large enough,’ said Fairyfoot.

“ «Come then and play with us,’ said the little man. ‘We lead the
merriest lives in the world, and care for nobody’s feet; but all com-
panies have their own manners, and there are two things you must
mind among us: first, do as you see the rest doing; and secondly,
never speak of anything you may hear or see, for we and the people of
this country have had no friendship ever since large feet came in
fashion.

«J will do that, and anything more you like, said Fairyfoot; and
the little man taking his hand, led him over the pasture into the forest,
and along a mossy path among old trees wreathed with ivy (he never
knew how far), till they heard the sound of music, and came upon a
meadow where the moon shone as bright as day, and all the flowers
of the year—snowdrops, violets, primroses, and cowslips—bloomed
together in the thick grass. There were a crowd of little men and
women, some clad in russet colour, but far more in green, dancing
round a little well as clear as crystal. And under great rose-trees
which grew here and there in the meadow, companies were sitting
round low tables covered with cups of milk, dishes of honey, and carved
wooden flagons filled with clear red wine. The little man led Fairy-
foot up to the nearest table, handed him one of the flagons, and said—

“*Drink to the good company!’

“Wine was not very common among the shepherds of Stumping-
hame, and the boy had never tasted such drink as that before; for
scarcely had it gone down, when he forgot all his troubles—how Black-
thorn and Brownberry wore his clothes, how Rough Ruddy sent him to
keep the sickly sheep, and the children would not dance with him: in
52 GRANNY S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

short, he forgot the whole misfortune of his feet, and it seemed to his
mind that he was a king’s son, and all was well with him. All the
little people about the well cried—

‘““Welcome! welcome!’ and every one said—‘ Come and dance
with me!’ So Fairyfoot was as happy as a prince, and drank milk
and ate honey till the moon was low in the sky, and then the little man
took him by the hand, and never stopped nor stayed till he was at his
own bed of straw in the cottage corner.

“Next morning Fairyfoot was not tired for all his dancing. No-
body in the cottage had missed him, and he went out with the sheep as
usual ; but every night all that summer, when the shepherds were safe
in bed, the little man came and took him away to dance in the forest.
Now he did not care to play with the shepherds’ children, nor grieve
that his father and mother had forgotten him, but watched the sheep
all day singing to himself or plaiting rushes; and when the sun went
down, Fairyfoot’s heart rejoiced at the thought of meeting that merry
company.

“The wonder was that he was never tired nor sleepy, as people are
apt to be who dance all night; but before the summer was ended
Fairyfoot found out the reason. One night, when the moon was full,
and the last of the ripe corn rustling in the fields, Robin Goodfellow
came for him as usual, and away they went to the flowery green. The
fun there was high, and Robin was in haste. So he only pointed to
the carved cup from which Fairyfoot every night drank the clear red
wine.

“*Tam not thirsty, and there is no use losing time,’ thought the
boy to himself, and he joined the dance; but never in all his life did
Fairyfoot find such hard work as to keep pace with the company.
Their feet seemed to move like lightning; the swallows did not fly so
fast or turn so quickly. Fairyfoot did his best, for he never gave in
easily, but at length his breath and strength being spent, the boy was
glad to steal away, and sit down behind a mossy oak, where his eyes
closed for very weariness. When he awoke the dance was nearly
over, but two little ladies clad in green talked close beside him.

““What a beautiful boy!’ said one of them. ‘He is worthy to be
a king’s son. Only see what handsome feet he has!’

“*Yes,’ said the other, with a laugh that sounded spiteful; ‘they
are just like the feet Princess Maybloom had before she washed them
in the Growing Well. Her father has sent far and wide throughout
the whole country searching for a doctor to make them small again, but
nothing in this world can do it except the water of the Fair Fountain,
and none but I and the nightingales know where it is.’
THE STORY OF FAIR YFOOT. 53

“*One would not care to let the like be known,’ said the first little
lady : ‘there would come such crowds of these great coarse creatures
of mankind, nobody would have peace for leagues round. But you
will surely send word to the sweet princess!—she was so kind to our
birds and butterflies, and danced so like one of ourselves!’

“«Not I, indeed!’ said the spiteful fairy. ‘Her old skinflint of a
father cut down the cedar which I loved best in the whole forest, and
made a chest of it to hold his money in; besides, I never liked the
princess— everybody praised her so. But come, we shall be too late
for the last dance.’”


CHAPTER VII.

The Story of Ff atv ptoo t—(continued),

HEN they were gone, Fairyfoot could sleep no more with
astonishment. He did not wonder at the fairies admiring
his feet, because their own were much the same; but it
amazed him that Princess Maybloom’s father should be

troubled at hers growing large. Moreover, he wished to see that same

princess and her country, since there were really other places in the
world than Stumpinghame.

“When Robin Goodfellow came to take him home as usual he
durst not let him know that he had overheard anything; but never was
the boy so unwilling to get up as on that morning, and all day he was
So weary that in the afternoon Fairyfoot fell'asleep with his head on a
clump of rushes. It was seldom that any one thought of looking after
him and the sickly sheep ; but it so happened that towards evening the
old shepherd, Fleecefold, thought he would see how things went on in
the pastures. The shepherd had a bad temper and a thick staff, and
no sooner did he catch sight of Fairyfoot sleeping, and his flock stray-
ing away, than shouting all the ill
names he could remember, in a
voice which woke up the boy, he
ran after him as fast as his great
feet would allow; while Fairyfoot,
seeing no other shelter from his
fury, fled into the forest, and never
stopped nor stayed till he reached
the banks of a little stream.

“Thinking it might lead him
to the fairies’ dancing: ground, he
followed that stream for many an
hour, but it wound away into the
heart of the forest, flowing through

4 dells, falling over mossy rocks,

Boas and at last leading Fairyfoot, when

he was tired and the night had
fallen, to a grove of great rose-trees, with the moon shining on it as
bright as day, and thousands of nightingales singing in the branches.




THE STORY OF FATRYFOOT. 55

In the midst of that grove was a clear spring, bordered with banks of
lilies, and Fairyfoot sat down by it to rest himself and listen. The
singing was so sweet he could have listened for ever, but as he sat the
nightingales left off their songs, and began to talk together in the
silence of the night--

“«¢ What boy is that,’ said one on a branch above him, ‘ who sits so
lonely by the Fair Fountain? He cannot have come from Stumping-
hame with such small and handsome feet.’

“No, I'll warrant you, said another, ‘he has come from the west
country. How in the world did he find the way ?’

““ Flow simple you are!’ said a third nightingale. ‘What had he
to do but follow the ground-ivy which grows over height ard hollow,
bank and bush, from the lowest gate of the king’s kitchen-garden to the
root of this rose-tree? He looks a wise boy, and I hope he will keep
the secret, or we shall have all the west country here, dabbling in our
fountain, and leaving us no rest to either talk or sing.’

“ Fairyfoot sat in great astonishment at this discourse, but by and
by, when the talk ceased and the songs began, he thought it might be
as well for him to follow the ground-ivy, and see the Princess May-
bloom, not to speak of getting rid of Rough Ruddy, the sickly sheep,
and the crusty old shepherd. It was a long journey; but he went on,
eating wild berries by day, sleeping in the hollows of old trees by night,
and never losing sight of the ground-ivy, which led him over height
and hollow, bank and bush, out of the
forest, and along a noble high road, with
fields and villages on every side, to a great
city, and a low old-fashioned gate of the
king’s kitchen- garden, which was
thought too mean for the scullions,
and had not been opened for seven
years.

“There was no use knocking—the
gate was overgrown with tall weeds
and moss; so, being an active boy, he :
climbed over, and walked through the |;
garden, till a white fawn came frisking by,
and he heard a soft voice saying sorrow-
fully—

“*Come back, come back, my fawn! |
cannot run and play with you now, my feet have
grown so heavy ;’ and looking round he saw the loveliest young
princess in the world, dressed in snow-white, and wearing a wreath
of roses on her golden hair; but walking slowly, as the great people



56 GRANNY'S WONDERFUL CHALR.

did in Stumpinghame, for her feet were as large as the best of
them.

“ After her came six young ladies, dressed in white and walking
slowly, for they could not go before the princess; but Fairyfoot was
amazed to see that their feet were as small as his own. At once he
guessed that this must be the Princess Maybloom, and made her an
humble bow, saying—

“* Royal princess, I have heard of your: trouble because your feet
have grown large: in my country that’s all the fashion. For seven
years past I have been wondering what would make mine grow, to no
purpose; but I know of a certain fountain that will make yours
smaller and finer than ever they. were, if the king, your father, gives
you leave to come with me, accompanied by two. of your maids that are
the least given to talking, and the most prudent officer in all his house-
hold; for it would grievously offend the fairies and the nightingales to
make that fountain known.’

‘When the princess heard that; she danced for j joy in spite of her large
feet, and she and her six maids brought Fairyfoot before the king and
queen, where they sat in their yalace hall, with all the courtiers. pay-
ing their morning compliments.* “Fhe lords were very much astonished
to see a ragged, bare-footed brought in among them, and the
ladies thought Princess Maybloom'mitist have gone mad; but Fairyfoot,
making an humble reverence; hes] His‘ message to.the king and queen,
and offered to set out with the princess that very day. “At first the
king ond not believe neat there could be any use in his offer, because
xd.failed to: ‘give any relief. The courtiers
the pane wanted to turn him out for an












impudent impostor, ; rand: ‘the
death for high- tre —





cen, ae a prudent woman, said—
‘Notice What fine feet this boy has. There
y. .Eor the sake of our only daughter, I
will choose t vO. rail who talk the least of all our train, and my éiniber:
lain, who is the most discreet officer: in our household: Let them go
with the princess : who knows Bue: our sorrow may be lessened ?’

Bee,

advised the contrary. So the tivo: “silent maids, the discreet chamber-
lain, and her fawn, which would. not stay behind, were sent with Princess
Maybloom, and they all set out after dinner. Fairyfoot had hard work
guiding them along the track of the ground-ivy. The maids and
the chamberlain did not like the brambles and rough roots of the forest
—they thought it hard to eat berries and sleep in hollow trees ; but the
dees
pape ell
= ERR


THE STORY OF FAIR VFOOF 57

Princess went on with good courage, and at last they reached the grove
of rose-trees, and the spring bordered with lilies.

“The chamberlain washed—and though his hair had been grey, and
his face wrinkled, the young courtiers envied his beauty for years after,
The maids washed—and from that day they were esteemed the fairest
in all the palace. Lastly, the princess washed also—it could make her
no fairer, but the moment her feet touched the water they grew less,
and when she had washed and dried them three times, they were as
small and finely-shaped as Fairyfoot’s own. There was great joy
among them, but the boy said sorrowfully—

““Oh! if there had been a well in the world to make my feet large,
my father and mother would not have cast me off, nor sent me to live
among the shepherds.’

“*Cheer up your heart, said the Princess Maybloom; ‘if you want
large feet, there is a well in this forest that will do it. Last summer
time, I came with my father and his foresters to see a great cedar cut
down, of which he meant to make a money chest. While they were
busy with the cedar, I saw a bramble branch covered with berries,
Some were ripe and some were green, but it was the longest bramble
that ever grew ; for the sake of the berries, I went on and on to its
root, which grew hard by a muddy-looking well, with banks of dark
green moss, in the deepest part of the forest. The day was warm and
dry, and my feet were sore with the rough ground, so I took off m
scarlet shoes, and washed my feet in the well: but as I washed they
grew larger every minute, and nothing could ever make them less again.
I have seen the bramble this day; it is not far off, and as you have
shown me the Fair Fountain, I will show you the Growing Well.’

“Up rose Fairyfoot and Princess Maybloom, and went together till
they found the bramble, and came to where its root grew, hard by the
muddy-looking well, with banks of dark green moss in the deepest dell
of the forest. Fairyfoot sat down to wash, but at that minute he heard
a sound of music, and knew it was the fairies going to their dancing
ground.

“*If my feet grow large,’ said the boy to himself, ‘how shall I dance
with them ?’ So, rising quickly, he took the Princess Maybloom by the
hand. The fawn followed them; the maids and the chamberlain
followed it, and all followed the music through the forest. At last they
came to the flowery green. Robin Goodfellow welcomed the company
for Fairyfoot’s sake, and gave every one a drink of the fairies’ wine.
So they danced there from sunset till the grey morning, and nobody
was tired; but before the lark sang, Robin Goodfellow took them ail
safe home, as he used to take Fairyfoot.

“ There was great joy that day in the palace because Princess May-

D
58 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHALK.

bloom’s feet were made small again. The king gave Fairyfoot all
manner of fine clothes and rich jewels; and when they heard his
wonderful story, he and the queen asked him to live with them and be
their son. In process of time Fairyfoot and Princess Maybloom were
married, and still live happily. When they go to visitat Stumpinghame,
they always wash their feet in the Growing Well, lest the royal family
might think them a disgrace, but when they come baek,-they make haste
to the Fair Fountain; and the fairies and the nightingales are great
friends to them, as well as the maids and the chamberlain, because they
have told nobody about it, and there is peace. and quiet.yet in the grove
of rose-trees.” os et



Here the voice out of the cushion ceased; and”
of gold, and were clothed in cloth:9f silvery.rose.
“That’s our story.” a6 82500 0 Ss nae eatethon be 0 ha Wd
“Mamma,” said Prirfcess: Greedalind.. “if we -couldefind. out that
Fair Fountain, and keepsit all.to Giieelves 2" we er ee
“Yes, my daughter, and the Growing Well to-wash our money in,”
replied Queen Wantall : but King Winwealth said—~
“ Excepting yesterday's tale, and the two that went before it, I have
©" not heard such a story since my brother Wisewit
went from me, and was lost in the forest. Silver-
spurs, the fourth of my pages, go and bring this
- maiden a-pearl necklace.” a
Snowflower received the necklace accordingly,
oo gave her thanks, made her courtesy, and. went down
ete on her grandmother’s chair to the servants’: hall.
That night they gave her a down pillow, and next day she dined
on a roast.clticken. The feasting within and the clamour with-
out went on’?as the days before: King Winwealth fellieinto. his
accustémedlow,-spirits after supper, and sent down a message for
Snowflower, whi@avas told her by the master-cook. So the little girl
went up in her grat mother’s chair, with red shoes, the clocked hose,
the white satin gown, and the pearl necklace on. All the company
welcomed her with joyful looks, and no sooner had .she made her
courtesy, and laid down her head, saying—* Chair,of my*grandmother,
tell me a story,” than, the. cleat. voice from under.the cushion said—
‘“Listen.to the story of Childe Charity.” op ee

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CHAPTER VIII.
The Story of Childe Charity.

a NCE upon a time, there lived in the west country a little girl
who had neither father nor mother; they both died when
she was very young, and left their daughter to the care of
her uncle, who was the richest farmer in all that country. He
had houses and lands, flocks and herds, many servants to work about his
house and fields, a wife who had brought him a great dowry, and two
fair daughters. All their neighbours, being poor, looked up to the
family—insomuch that they imagined themselves great people. The
father and mother were as proud as peacocks; the daughters thought
themselves the greatest beauties in the world, and not one of the
family would speak civilly to anybody they thought low.

“ Now it happened that though she was their near relation, they
had this opinion of the orphan girl, partly because she had no fortune,
and partly because of her humble, kindly disposition. It was said that
the more needy and despised any creature was, the more ready was
she to befriend it: on which
account the people of the west ae
country called her Childe Charity,
and if she had any other name,
IT never heard it. Childe Charity
was thought very mean in that
proud house. Her uncle would
not own her for his niece; her
cousins would not keep her com-
pany; and her aunt sent her to
work in the dairy, and to sleep
in the back garret, where they
kept all sorts of lumber and dry
herbs for the winter. All the
servants learned the same tune,
and Childe Charity had more :
work than rest among them. All the day she scoured pails, scrubbed
dishes, and washed crockeryware; but every night she slept in the
back garret as sound as a princess could in her palace chamber




€o GRANNY’S IVONDERFUL CHAIR.

‘Her uncle’s house was large and white, and stood among green
meadows by a river’s side. In front it had a porch covered with a
vine; behind, it had a farmyard and high granaries. Within, there
were two parlours for the rich, and two kitchens for the poor, which
the neighbours thought wonderfully grand; and one day in the harvest
season, when this rich farmer's corn had been all cut down and housed,
he condescended so far as to invite them to a harvest supper. The
west country people came in their holiday clothes and best behaviour.
Such heaps of cakes and cheese, such baskets of apples and barrels of
ale, had never been at feast before; and they were making merry in
kitchen and parlour, when a poor old woman came to the backdoor,
begging for broken victuals anda night’s lodging. Her clothes were
coarse and ragged; her hair was scanty and grey; her back was bent;
her teeth were gone. She had a squinting eye, a clubbed foot, and
crooked fingers. In short, she was the poorest and ugliest old woman
that ever came begging. The first who saw her was the kitchen-maid,
and she ordered her to be gone for an ugly witch. The next was the
herd-boy, and he threw her a bone over his shoulder; but Childe
Charity, hearing the noise, came out from her seat at the foot of the
lowest table, and asked the old woman to take her share of the supper,
and sleep that night in her bed in the back garret. The old woman
sat down without a word of thanks. All the company laughed at
Childe Charity for giving her bed and her supper to a beggar. Her
proud cousins said it was just like her mean spirit, but Childe Charity
did not mind them. She scraped the pots for her supper that night,
and slept on a sack among the lumber, while the old woman rested in
her warm bed; and next morning, before the little girl awoke, she was
up and gone, without so much as saying thank you, or good morning.

“That day all the servants were sick after the feast, and mostly
cross too—so you may judge how civil they were; when, at supper
time, who should come to the backdoor but the old woman, again
asking for broken victuals and a night’s lodging. No one would listen
to her or give her a morsel, till Childe Charity rose from her seat at
the foot of the lowest table, and kindly asked her to take her supper,
and sleep in her bed in the back garret. Again the old woman sat
down without a word. Childe Charity scraped the pots for her supper,
and slept on the sack. In the morning the old woman was gone; but
for six nights after, as sure as the supper was spread, there was she at
the backdoor, and the little girl regularly asked her in

“Childe Charity’s aunt said she would let her get enough of
beggars. Her cousins made continual game of what they called her
genteel visitor. Sometimes the old woman said, ‘Child why don’t
you make this bed softer? and why are your blankets so thin?’ but
THE STORY OF CHILDE CHARITY. 6r

she never gave her a word of thanks nor a civil good morning. At
last, on the ninth night from her first coming, when Childe Charity
was getting used to scrape the pots and sleep on the sack, her
accustomed knock came to the door, and there she stood with an
ugly ashy-coloured dog, so stupid-looking and clumsy that

no herd-boy would keep him.

“*Good evening, my little girl,” she said when Childe
Charity opened the door, ‘1 will, not have
your supper and bed to-night—I am going
on a long journey to see a friend ; but here
is a dog of mine, whom nobody in all the
west country will keep for me. .He is a
little cross, and not very handsome ; but I
leave him to your care till the shortest day
in all the year. Then you and I will
count for his keeping.’

“When the old woman had said
the last word, she set off with such
speed that Childe Charity lost sight
of her in a minute. The ugly dog
began to fawn upon her, but he
snarled at everybody else. The
servants said he was a_ disgrace
to the house. The proud cousins
wanted him drowned, and it was with great trouble that Childe Charity
got leave to keep him in an old ruined cow-house. Ugly and cross as
the dog was, he fawned on her, and the old woman had left him to her
care. So the little girl gave him part of all her meals, and when the
hard frost came, took him privately to her own back garret, because the
cow-house was damp and cold in the long nights. The dog lay quietly
on some straw in a corner. Childe Charity slept soundly, but every
morning the servants would say to her—

«What great light and fine talking was that in your back garret ?’

“«There was no light but the moon shining in through the shutter-
less window, and no talk that I heard,’ said Childe Charity, and she
thought they must have been dreaming ; but night after night, when
any of them awoke in the dark and silent hour that comes before the
morning, they saw a light brighter and clearer than the Christmas fire,
and heard voices like those of lords and ladies in the back garret.

“Partly from fear, and partly from laziness, none of the servants
would rise to see what might be there; till at length, when the winter
nights were at the longest, the little parlour maid, who did least work
and got most favour, because she gathered news for her mistress, crept
out of bed when all the rest were sleeping, and set herself to watch at


62 GRANNY S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

a crevice of the door. She saw the dog lying quietly in the corner,
Childe Charity sleeping soundly in her bed, and the moon shining
through the shutterless window; but an hour before daybreak there
came a glare of lights, and a sound of
far-off bugles. The window opened,
and in marched a troop of little men
clothed in crimson and gold, and bear-
ing every man a torch, till the room
looked bright as day. They marched
up with great reverence to the dog,
where he lay on the straw, and the
most richly clothed among them
said—

“* Royal prince, we have pre-
pared the banquet hall. What will
your highness please that we do
next ?’

““Ye have done well,’ said the
dog.. ‘Now prepare the feast, and

* see that all things be in our first

fashion : for the princess and I mean
to bring a stranger who never feasted in our halls before.’

‘Your highness’s commands shall be obeyed,’ said the little man,
making another reverence; and he and his company passed out of the
window. By and by there was another glare of lights, and a sound
like far-off flutes. The window opened, and there came in a company
of little ladies clad in rose-coloured velvet, and carrying each a crystal
lamp. They also walked with great reverence up to the dog, and the
gayest among them said—

“* Royal prince, we have prepared the tapestry. What will your
highness please that we do next ??

“*Ye have done well, said the dog. ‘ Now prepare the robes, and
let all things be in our first fashion: for the princess and I will bring
with us a stranger who never feasted in our halls before.’

““Your highness’s commands shall be obeyed,’ said the little lady,
making a low courtesy; and she and her company passed out through
the window, which closed quietly behind them.” The dog stretched
himself out upon the straw, the little girl turned in her sleep, and the
moon shone in on the back garret. The parlour-maid was so much
amazed, and so eager to tell this great story to her mistress, that she
could not close her eyes that night, and was up before cock-crow; but
when she told it, her mistress called her a silly wench to have such
foolish dreams, and scolded her so that the parlour-maid durst not


THE STORY OF CHILDE CHARITY. 63

mention what she had seen to the servants. Nevertheless Childe
Charity’s aunt thought there might be something in it worth knowing ;
so next night, when all the house were asleep, she crept out of bed, and
set herself to watch at the back garret door. There she saw exactly
what the maid told her—the little men with the torches, and the little
ladies with the crystal lamps, come in making great reverence to the dog,
and the same words pass, only he said to the one, ‘ Now prepare the
presents, and to the other, ‘Prepare the jewels ;’ and when they were
gone the dog stretched himself on the straw, Childe Charity turned in
her sleep, and the moon shone in on the back garret.

“The mistress could not close her eyes : ny more than the maid
from eagerness to tell the story. She woke up Childe Charity’s rich
uncle before cock-crow ; but when he heard it, he laughed at her for a
foolish woman, and advised her not to repeat the like before the neigh-
bours, lest they should think she
had lost her senses. The mistress i
could say no more, and the day aq
passed; but that night the master 4
thought he would like to see what
went on in the back garret: so
when all the house were asleep he
slipped out of bed, and set him-
self to watch at the crevice in the
door. The same thing happened
again that the maid and the
mistress saw: the little men in
crimson with their torches, and
the little ladies in rose-coloured
velvet with their lamps, came in
at the window, and made an
humble reverence to the ugly dog,
the one saying, ‘ Royal prince, we
have prepared the presents, and the other, ‘Royal prince, we have
prepared the jewels ;’ and the dog said to them all, ‘Ye have done
well. To-morrow come and meet me and the princess with horses and
chariots, and let all things be in our first fashion: for we will bring
a stranger from this house who has never travelled with us, nor feasted
in our halls before.’

“The little men and the little ladies said, ‘ Your highness’s com-
mands shall be obeyed.” When they had gone out through the
window, the ugly dog stretched himself out on the straw, Childe
Charity turned in her sleep, and the moon shone in on the back garret.

“The master could not close his eyes any more than the maid or


64 GRANNY'’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

the mistress, for thinking of this strange sight. .He remembered to have
heard his grandfather say, that somewhere near his meadows there lay
a path leading to the fairies’ country, and the haymakers used to see it
shining through the grey summer morning as the fairy bands went
home. Nobody had heard or seen the like for many years; but the
master concluded that the doings in his back garret must be a fairy
business, and the ugly dog a person of great account. His chief
wonder was, however, what visitor the fairies intended to take from his
house; and after thinking the matter over, he was sure it must be one of
his daughters—they were so handsome, and had such fine clothes.

“ Accordingly, Childe Charity’s rich
uncle made it his first business that
morning to get ready a breakfast of
roast mutton for the ugly dog, and
carry it to him in the old cow-house ;
but not a morsel would the dog taste.
On the contrary, he snarled at the
master, and would have bitten him if
he had not run away with his mutton.

“ «The fairies have strange ways,’
said the master to himself; but he
called his daughters privately, bidding them dress themselves in
their best, for he could not say which of them might be called into
great company before nightfall. Childe Charity’s proud cousins,
hearing this, put on the richest of their silks and laces, and strutted
like peacocks from kitchen to parlour all day, waiting for the call their
father spoke of, while the little girl scoured and scrubbed in the dairy.
They were in very bad humour when night fell, and nobody had come ;
but just as the family were sitting down to supper the ugly dog began
to bark, and the old woman’s knock was heard at the backdoor.
Childe Charity opened it, and was going to offer her bed and supper as
usual, when the old woman said—

“This is the shortest day in all the year, and I am going home to
hold a feast after my travels. I see you have taken good care of my
dog, and now if you will come with me to my house, he and I will do
our best to entertain you. Here is our company.’

“ As the old woman spoke, there was a sound of far-off flutes and
bugles, then a glare of lights; and a great company, clad so grandly
that they shone with gold and jewels, came in open chariots, covered
with gilding and drawn by snow-white horses. The first and finest of
the chariots was empty. The old woman led Childe Charity to it by
the hand, and the ugly dog jumped in before her. The proud cousins,
in all their finery, had by this time come to the door, but nobody



THE STORY OF CHILDE CHARITY. 65

wanted them; and no sooner was the old woman and her dog within
the chariot than a marvellous change passed over them, for the ugly
old woman turned at once to a beautiful young princess, with long
yellow curls and a robe of green and gold, while the ugly dog at her
side started up a fair young prince, with nut-brown hair and a robe of
purple and silver.

«We are, said they, as the chariots drove on, and the little girl sat
astonished, ‘a prince and princess of Fairyland, and there was a wager
between us whether or not there were good people still to be found in
these false and greedy times. One said Yes, and the other said No;
and I have lost,’ said the prince, ‘and must pay the feast and presents.’

“ Childe Charity never heard any more of that story. Some of the
farmer’s household, who were looking after them through the moonlight
night, said the chariots had gone
one way across the meadows,
some said they had gone another,
and till this day they
cannotagree upon the ~.
direction. But Childe
Charity went with
that noble com-
pany into acountry
such as she had
never seen — for
primroses covered
all the ground, and a
the light was al-
ways like that of
a summer evening. They took her
to a royal palace, where there was
nothing but feasting and dancing for seven days. She had robes of
pale green velvet to wear, and slept in a chamber inlaid with ivory.
When the feast was done, the prince and princess gave her such heaps
of gold and jewels that she could not carry them, but they gave her a
chariot to go home in, drawn by six white horses; and on the seventh
night, which happened to be Christmas time, when the farmer’s family
had settled in their own minds that she would never come back,
and were sitting down to supper, they heard the sound of her coach-
man’s bugle, and saw her alight with all the jewels and gold at the very
backdoor where she had brought in the ugly old woman. The fairy
chariot drove away, and never came back to that farmhouse after. But
Childe Charity scrubbed and scoured no more, for she grew a great
lady, even in the eyes of her proud cousins.”




66 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

Here the voice out of the cushion ceased, and one, with a fair face
and a robe of pale green velvet, rose from among the company, and
said—

“That's my story.”

“ Mamma,” said Princess Greedalind,
“if we had some of those fine chariots !”

“Yes, my daughter,” answered Queen
Wantall, ‘and the gold and jewels too!”
But King Winwealth said—

“Excepting yesterday's story, and the
three that went before it, I have not heard
such a tale since my brother Wisewit went
from me, and was lost in the forest. High-
jinks, the third of my pages, go and bring
this maiden a crimson velvet hat.”

Snowflower took the hat and thanked

the king, made her courtesy, and went

down on her grandmother's chair to the
7 housekeeper’s parlour. Her blanket
““. was covered with a patchwork quilt

that night; next day she had roast
turkey and meat for dinner. But the feast
went on in the palace hall with the usual
spites and envies; the clamour and complaints at the gate were still
heard above all the music; and King Winwealth fell into his wonted
low spirits as soon as the supper was over. As usual, a message
came down from the banquet hall, and the chief-butler told Snow-
flower that she and her chair were wanted to tell King Winwealth a
story. So she went up with all the presents on, even to the crimson
hat, made her courtesy to the good company, and had scarcely said,
“Chair of my grandmother, tell mea story,” when the voice from under
the cushion said—

“ Listen to the story of Sour and Civil.”


CHAPTER IX.

Sour and Civil.

a NCE upon a time there stood upon the sea-coast of the west
we country a certain hamlet of low cottages, where no one lived
WS but fishermen. All round it was a broad beach of snow-white
sand, where nothing was to be seen but gulls and cormorants,
and long tangled seaweeds cast up by the tide that came and went
night and day, summer and winter. There was no harbour nor port
on all that shore. Ships passed by at a distance, with their white
sails set, and on the land-side
there lay wide grassy downs,
where peasants lived and shep-
herds fed their flocks. The
fishermen thought themselves
as well off as any people in
that country. Their families
never wanted for plenty of
herrings and mackerel; and
what they had to spare the
landsmen bought from them at
certain village markets on the
downs, giving them in ex-
change butter, cheese, and
corn.

“The two best fishermen
in that village were the sons of two old widows, who had no other
children, and happened to be near neighbours. Their family names
were short, for they called the one Sour, and the other Civil. There
was no relationship between them that ever I heard of ; but they had
only one boat, and always fished together, though their names expressed
the difference of their humours — for Civil never used a hard word
where a soft one would do, and when Sour was not snarling at some-
body, he was sure to be grumbling at everything.

“Nevertheless they agreed wonderfully, and were lucky fishers.
Both were strong, active, and of good courage. On winter’s night or
summer's morning they would steer out to sea far beyond the boats
of their neighbours, and never came home without some fish to cook




68 GRANNY’ S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

and some to spare. Their mothers were proud of them, each in her
own fashion—for the saying held good, ‘Like mother, like son.’
Dame Civil thought the whole world didn’t hold a better than her son;
and her boy was the only creature at whom Dame Sour didn’t scold
and frown. The hamlet was divided in opinion concerning the young
fishermen. Some thought Civil the best; some said, without Sour. he
would catch nothing. So things went on, till one day about the fall
of winter, when mists were gathering darkly on sea and sky, and the
air was chill and frosty, all the boatmen of the hamlet went out to
fish, and so did Sour and Civil.

“That day they had not their usual luck. Cast their net where
they would, not a single fish came in. Their neighbours caught
boatsful, and went home, Sour said, laughing at them. But when the
sea was growing crimson with the sunset their nets were empty, and
they were tired. Civil himself did not like to go home without fish—
it would damage the high repute they had gained in the village.
Besides, the sea was calm and the evening fair, and, as a last attempt,
they steered still further out, and cast their nets beside a rock which
rose rough and grey above the water, and was called the Merman’s
Seat—from an old report that the fishermen’s fathers had seen the
mermen, or sea-people, sitting there on moonlight nights. Nobody
believed that rumour now, but the villagers did not like to fish there.
The water was said to be deep beyond measure, and sudden squalls
were apt to trouble it; but Sour and Civil were right glad to see by
the moving of their lines that there was something in their net, and
gladder still when they found it so heavy that all their strength was
required to draw it up. Scarcely had they landed it on the Merman’s
Seat, when their joy was changed to disappointment, for besides a few
starved mackerel, the net contained nothing but a monstrous ugly
fish as long as Civil (who was taller than Sour), with a huge,snout,
a long beard, and a skin covered with prickles.

“ Such a horrid ugly creature!’ said Sour, as they shook it out of
the net on the rough rock, and gathered up the mackerel. ‘We
needn't fish here any more. How they will mock us in the village for
staying out so late, and bringing home so little ! ’

“*QLet us try again,’ said Civil, as he set his creel of mackerel in
the boat.

“Not another cast will I make to-night;’ and what more Sour
would have said, was cut short by the great fish, for, looking round at
them, it spoke out—

“*T suppose you don’t think me worth taking home in your dirty
boat; but I can tell you that if you were down in my country, neither
of you would be thought fit to keep me company.’

SOUR AND CIVIL. 69

“Sour and Civil were terribly astonished to hear the fish speak.
The first could not think of a cross word to say, but Civil made answer
in his accustomed manner.

“Indeed, my lord, we beg your pardon, but our boat is too light to
carry such a fish as you.’

“*Vou do well to call me lord, said the fish, ‘for so I am, though it
was hard to expect you could have known my quality in this dress.
However, help me off the rock, for I must go home; and for your
civility I will give you my daughter in marriage, if you will come and
see me this day twelvemonth.

“ Civil helped the great fish off the rock as respectfully as his fear
would allow him. Sour was so terrified at the whole transaction, that
he said not a word till they got safe home; but from that day forward,
when he wanted to put Civil down, it was his custom to tell him and
his mother that he would get no wife but the ugly fish’s daughter.

“Old Dame Sour heard this story from her son, and told it over the
whole village. Some people wondered, but the most part laughed at it
as a good joke; and Civil and his mother were never known to be
angry but on that occasion. Dame Civil advised her son never to fish
with Sour again; and as the boat happened to be his, Civil got an old
skiff which one of
the fishermen was
going to break up
for firewood, and
cobbled it up for
himself.

“In that skiff
hewent to sea alone
all the winter, and
all the summer:
but, though Civil
was brave and skil-
ful, he could catch
little, because his
boat was bad—and
_ everybody but his
mother began to
think him of no
value. Sour having the good boat got a new comrade, and had the
praise of being the best fisherman.

“Poor Civil’s heart was getting low as the summer wore away.
The fish had grown scarce on that coast, and the fishermen had to steer
further out to sea. One evening when he had toiled all day and caught


70 GRANNY'’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

nothing, Civil thought he would go further too, and try his fortune
beside the Merman’s Rock. The sea was calm, and the evening fair
Civil did not remember that it was the very day on which his troubles
began by the great fish talking to him twélve months before. As he
neared the rock the sun was setting, and much astonished was the
fisherman to see standing upon it three fair ladies, with sea-green gowns
and strings of great pearls wound round their long fair hair; two of
them were waving their hands to him. They were the tallest and
stateliest ladies he had ever seen; but Civil could perceive as he came
nearer that there was no colour in their cheeks, that their hair had a
strange bluish shade, like that of deep sea-water, and there was a fiery
light in their eyes that frightened him. The third, who was less of
stature, did not notice him at all, but kept her eyes fixed on the setting
sun. Though her look was mournful, Civil could see that there was a
faint rosy bloom on her cheek—that her hair was a golden yellow, and
her eyes were mild and clear like those of his mother.

“*“Welcome! welcome! noble fisherman!’ cried the two ladies.
‘Our father has sent us for you to visit him,’ and with one bound they
leaped into his boat, bringing with them the smaller lady, who said—

“*Oh! bright sun and brave sky that I see so seldom!’ But Civil
heard no more, for his boat went down miles deep in the sea, and he
thought himself drowning ; but one lady had caught him by the right
arm, and the other by the left, and pulled him into the mouth of a rocky
cave, where there was no water. On they went, still down and down,
as if on a steep hill-side) The cave was very long, but it grew
wider as they came to the bottom. Then Civil saw a faint light, and
walked out with his fair company into the country of the s€a-people.
In that land there grew neither grass nor flowers, bushes nor trees, but
the ground was covered with bright-coloured shells and pebbles.
There were hills of marble, and rocks of spar ; and over all a cold blue
sky, with no sun, but a light clear and silvery as that of the harvest
moon. The fisherman could see no ‘smoking chimneys, but there were
grottoes in the sparry rocks, and halls in the marble hills, where lived
the sea-people—with whom, as old _ stories say, fishermen and
mariners used to meet on lonely capes and headlands in the simple
times of the world.

“Forth they came in all directions to see the stranger. Mermen
with long white beards, and mermaids such as walk with the fishermen,
all clad in sea-green, and decorated with strings of pearls; but every
one with the same colourless face, and the same wild light in their eyes,
The mermaids led Civil up one of the marble hills to a great cavern
with halls and chambers like a palace. Their floors were of alabaster,
their walls of porphyry, and their ceilings inlaid with coral. Thousands
SOUR AND CIVIE. 71

of crystal lamps lit the palace. There were seats and tables hewn out
of shining spar, and a great company sat feasting; but what most
amazed Civil was the quantity of cups, flagons, and goblets, made of
gold and silver, of such different shapes and patterns that they seemed
to have been gathered from all the countries in the world. In the
chief hall there sat a merman on a stately chair,

with more jewels than all the rest about him.
Before him the mermaids brought Civil, say-
ing—

««¢ Father, here is our guest.’

“Welcome, noble fisherman!’ cried the
merman, in a voice which Civil remembered
with terror, for it was that of the great ugly
fish; ‘welcome to our halls! Sit down and
feast with us, and then choose which of my
daughters you will have for a bride.’

“Civil had never felt himself so
thoroughly frightened in all his life.
How was he to get home to his
mother? and what would the old
dame think when the dark night
came without bringing him home? ;
There was no use in talking—Civil oF
had wisdom enough to see that: he
therefore tried to take things quietly; and, having thanked the merman
for his invitation, took the seat assigned him on his right hand. Civil
was hungry with the long day at sea, but there was no want of fare on
that table: meats and wines, such as he had never tasted, were set
before him in the richest of golden dishes; but, hungry as he was, the
fisherman perceived that everything there had the taste and smell of
the sea.

“Tf the fisherman had been the lord of lands and castles he could
not have been treated with more respect. The two mermaids sat by
him—one filled his plate, another filled his goblet; but the third only
looked at him in a stealthy, warning way when nobody perceived her.
Civil soon finished his share of the feast, and then the merman showed
him all the splendours of his cavern. The halls were full of company,
some feasting, some dancing, and some playing all manner of games,
and in-every hall was the same abundance of gold and silver vessels ;
but Civil was most astonished when the merman brought him to a
marble chamber full of heaps of precious stones. There were ciamonds
there whose value the fisherman knew not—pearls larger than ever
a diver had gathered — emeralds, sapphires, and rubies, that would










oy
72 GRANNY S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

have made the jewellers of the world wonder; the merman then
said—

“This is my eldest daughter's dowry.’

“Good luck attend her!’ said Civil. ‘It is the dowry of a queen.’
But the merman led him on to another chamber : it was filled with
heaps of gold coin, which seemed gathered from all times and nations.
The images and inscriptions of all the kings that ever reigned were
there; and the merman said—

«This is my second daughter’s dowry.’

“*Good luck attend her!’ said Civil. ‘It is a dowry for a
princess.’ ,

“*So you may say,’ replied the merman. ‘But make up your mind
which of the maidens you will marry, for the third has no portion at all,
because she is not my daughter; but only, as you may see, a poor silly
girl taken into my family for charity.’

“«Truly, my lord,’ said Civil, whose mind was already made up,
‘both your daughters are too rich and far too noble for me; therefore
I choose the third. Her poverty will best become my estate of a poor
fisherman.’

“Tf you choose her,’ said the merman, ‘you must wait long for
a wedding. I cannot allow an inferior girl to be married before my
own daughters. And he said a
great deal more to persuade him;
but Civil would not change his
mind, and they returned to the
hall.

“There was no more atten-
tion for the fisherman, but every-
body watched him well. Turn
where he would, master or guest
had their eyes upon him, though
he made them the best speeches
he could remember, and praised
all their splendours. One thing,
however, was strange—there was
no end to the fun and the feast-
ing; nobody seemed tired, and
nobody thought of sleep. When
Civil’s very eyes closed with
weariness, and he slept on one
of the marble benches—no matter
how many hours—there were the company feasting and dancing away ;
there were the thousand lamps within, and the cold moonlight without.


SOUR AND CIVIL. 73.
Civil wished himself back with his mother, his net, and his cobbled
skiff. Fishing would have been easier than those everlasting feasts ;
but there was nothing else among the sea-people—no night of rest, no-
working day.

“Civil knew not how time went on, till, waking up from a long
sleep, he saw, for the first time, that the feast was over, and the
company gone. The lamps still burned, and the tables, with all
their riches, stood in the empty halls; but there was no face to
be seen, no sound to be heard, only a low voice singing beside
the outer door; and there, sitting all alone, he found the mild-eyed
maiden.

“Pair lady, said Civil, ‘tell me what means this quietness, and
where are all the merry company?’

“Vou are aman of the land,’ said the lady, ‘and know not the
sea-people. They never sleep but once a year, and that is at
Christmas time. Then they go into the deep caverns, where there is.
always darkness, and sleep till the new year comes.’

“Tt is a strange fashion, said Civil; ‘but all folks have their
way. Fair lady, as you and I are to be good friends, tell me,
whence come all the wines and meats, and gold and silver vessels,
seeing there are neither corn-fields nor flocks here, workmen nor
artificers ?’

“©The sea-people are heirs of the sea,’ replied the maiden; ‘to
them come all the stores and riches that are lost in it. I know not
the ways by which they come; but the lord of these halls keeps the
keys of seven gates, where they go out and in; but one of the gates,
which has not been opened for thrice seven years, leads to a path
under the sea, by which, I heard the merman say in his cups, one
might reach the land. Good fisherman, if by chance you gain his
favour, and ever open that gate, let me bear you company; for I was
born where the sun shines and the grass grows, though my country
and my parents are unknown tome. All I remember is sailing in a
great ship, when a storm arose, and it was wrecked, and not one soul
escaped drowning but me. I was then a little child, and a brave sailor
had bound me to a floating plank before he was washed away. Here
the sea-people came round me like great fishes, and I went down with
them to this rich and weary country. Sometimes, as a great favour,
they take me up with them to see the sun; but that is seldom, for they
never like to part with one who has seen their country; and, fisherman,
if you ever leave them, remember to take nothing with you that
belongs to them, for if it were but a shell or a pebble, that will give
them power over you and yours.’

“Thanks for your news, fair lady,’ said Civil. ‘ A lord’s daughter,

E
74 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHATR.

doubtless, you must have been while I am but a poor fisherman ;
yet, as we have fallen into the same misfortune, let us be friends,
and it may be we shall find means to get back to the sunshine
together.’

““You are a man of good manners,’ said the lady, ‘therefore I
accept your friendship; but my fear is that we shall never see the
sunshine again.’

“*Fair speeches brought me here,’ said Civil; ‘and fair speeches
may help me back; but be sure I will not go without you.’”
CHAPTER X

Sour and Civil—(continued).

(x ) that Christmas time seeing the wonders of the sea country.

AMM They wandered through caves like that of the great merman.

The unfinished feast was spread in every hall; the tables were

covered with most costly vessels; and heaps of jewels lay on the floors

of unlocked chambers. But for the lady’s warning, Civil would fain
have put away some of them for his mother.

«The poor woman was sad of heart by this time, believing her son
to be drowned. On the first night when
he did not come home, she had gone
down to the sea and watched till morning.

Then the fishermen steered out again, and
~ Sour having found his skiff floating about,
brought it home, saying, the foolish young
man was doubtless lost; but what better
could be expected when he had no discreet person to take care of him.

“ This grieved Dame Civil sore. She never expected to see her
son again; but, feeling lonely in her cottage at the evening hour when
he used to come home, the good woman accustomed herself to go down
at sunset and sit beside the sea. That winter happened to be mild on
the coast of the west country, and one evening
when the Christmas time was near, and the
rest of the village preparing to make merry,
Dame Civil sat, as usual,
on the sands. The tide
was ebbing and the sun
going down, when from
the eastward came a lady
clad in black, mounted on —
a black palfrey, and fol-
lowed by a squire in the
same sad clothing; as the
lady came near, she said—

«Woe is me for my daughter, and for all that have lost by the sea!’

“ pe promise cheered the lady’s heart, and she and Civil spent




76 GRANNY’S IVWONDERFUL CHATR.

“*You say well, noble lady,’ said Dame Civil. ‘Woe is me
also for my son, for I have none beside him.’

“When the lady heard that, she alighted from her palfrey, and sat
down by the fisherman’s mother, saying—

““Listen to my story. I was the widow of a great lord in the
heart of the east country. He left me a fair castle, and an only
daughter, who was the joy of my heart. Her name was Faith Feign-
less ; but, while she was yet a child, a great fortune-teller told me that
my daughter would marry a fisherman. I thought this would be a
great disgrace to my noble family, and, therefore, sent my daughter
with her nurse in a good ship, bound for a certain city where my
relations live, intending to follow myself as soon as I could get my
lands and castles sold. But the ship was wrecked, and my daughter
drowned ; and I have wandered over the world with my good Squire
Trusty, mourning on every shore with those who have lost friends
by the sea. Some with whom I have mourned grew to forget their
sorrow, and would lament with me no more; others being sour and
selfish, mocked me, saying, my grief was nothing to them: but you
have good manners, and I will remain with you, however humble be
your dwelling. My squire carries gold enough to pay all our charges.’
So the mourning lady and her good Squire Trusty went home with
Dame Civil, and she was no longer lonely in her sorrow, for when the
dame said —

“*Oh! if my son were alive, I should never let him go to sea in a
cobbled skiff!’ the Jady answered—

““Oh! if my daughter were but living, I should never think it a
disgrace though she married a fisherman !’

“The Christmas passed as it always does in the west country—
shepherds made merry on the downs, and fishermen on the shore; but
when the merrymakings and ringing of bells were over in all the land,
the sea-people woke up to their continual feasts and dances. Like one
that had forgotten all that was passed, the merman again showed Civil
the chamber of gold and the chamber of jewels, advising him to choose
between his two daughters; but the fisherman still answered that the
ladies were too noble, and far too rich for him. Yet as he looked at
the glittering heap, Civil could not help recollecting the poverty of the
west country, and the thought slipped out—

“* How happy my old neighbours would be to find themselves here!’

“* Say you so?’ said the merman, who always wanted visitors.

“* Ves,’ said Civil, ‘I have neighbours up yonder 1 the west country
whom it would be hard to send home again if they got sight of half
this wealth ;’ and the honest fisherman thought of Dame Sour and her
son.
SOUR AND CIVIL. 7

“The merman was greatly delighted with these speeches—he
thought there was a probability of getting many land-people down, and
by and by said to Civil—

“Suppose you took up a few jewels, and went up to tell your poor
neighbours how welcome we might make them ?’

“The prospect of getting back to his country rejoiced Civil’s heart,
but he had promised not to go without the lady, and, therefore,
answered prudently what was indeed true—

«Many thanks, my lord, for choosing such a humble man as [ am
to bear your message; but the people of the west country never
believe anything without two witnesses at the least; yet if the poor
maid whom I have chosen could be permitted to accompany me, I
think they would believe us both.’

“Phe merman said nothing in reply, but his people, who had heard
Civil’s speech, talked it over among themselves till they grew sure that
the whole west country would come down, if they only had news of the
riches, and petitioned their lord to send up Civil and the poor maid by
way of letting them know.

«“ As it seemed for the public good, the great merman consented ;
but, being determined to have them back, he gathered out of his
treasure chamber some of the largest pearls and diamonds that lay
convenient, and said—

“Take these as a present from me, to let the west country people
see what I can do for my visitors.’

“ Civil and the lady took the presents, saying—

“¢ Oh, my lord, you are too generous. We want nothing but the
pleasure of telling of your marvellous riches up yonder.’

“«©Tell everybody to come down, and they will get the Quy
like” said the merman; ‘and follow my eldest daughter, for
she carries the key of the land gate.’

“Civil and the lady followed the mermaid through a
winding gallery, which led from the chief banquet hall far
‘ato the marble hill. All was dark, and they had neither
lamp nor torch, but at the end of the gallery they came to
a great stone gate, which creaked like thunder on its hinges.
Beyond that there was a narrow Cave, sloping up and up
liké a steep hill-side. Civil and the lady thought they would never
reach the top; but at last they saw a gleam of daylight, then a strip of
blue sky, and the mermaid bade them stoop and creep through what
seemed a crevice in the ground, and both stood up on the broad sea-
beach as the day was breaking and the tide ebbing fast away.

“*Good times to you among your west country people, said the
mermaid. ‘Tell any of them that would like to come down to visit us,

=a


78 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

that they must come here midway between the high and low water-
mark, when the tide is going out at morning or evening. Call thrice
on the sea-people, and we will show them the way.’

“Before they could make answer, she had sunk down from their
sight, and there was no track or passage there, but all was covered by
the loose sand and sea-shells.

“* Now, said the lady to Civil, ‘we have seen the heavens once
more, and we will not go back. Cast in the merman’s present quickly
before the sun rises;’ and taking the bag of pearls and diamonds, she
flung it as far as she could into the sea.

“Civil never was so unwilling to part with anything as that bag, but
he thought it better to follow a good example, and tossed his into the
sea also. They thought they heard a long moan come up from the
waters; but Civil saw his mother’s chimney beginning to smoke, and
with the fair lady in her sea-green gown he hastened to the good dame’s

cottage.
“The whole village were woke up that morning with cries of
‘Welcome back, my son!’ ‘Welcome back, my daughter!’ for the
2 as §

mournful lady knew it was her lost daughter, Faith Feignless, whom
the fisherman had brought back, and all the neighbours assembled to
hear their story. When it was told, everybody praised Civil for the
prudence he had shown in his difficulties, except Sour and his mother:
they did nothing but rail upon him for losing such great chances of
making himself and the whole country rich. At last, when they heard
over and over again of the merman’s treasures, neither mother nor son
would consent to stay any longer in the west country, and as nobody
persuaded them, and they would not take Civil’s direction, Sour got out
his boat and steered away with his mother toward the Merman’s Rock.
From that voyage they never came back to the hamlet. Some say
they went down and lived among the sea-people; others say—I know
not how they learned it—that Sour and his mother grumbled and
growled so much that even the sea-people grew weary of them, and
turned them and their boat out on the open sea. What part of the
world they chose to land on nobody is certain: by all accounts they
have been seen everywhere, and I should not be surprised if they were
in this good company. As for Civil, he married Faith Feignless, and
became a great lord.”

Here the voice ceased, and two that were clad in sea-green silk,
with coronets of pearls, rose up, and said—

“ That’s our story.”

“Oh, mamma, if we could get down to that country!” said Princess
Greedalind.

“And bring all the treasures back with us!” answered Queen Wantall.

SOUR AND CIVIL, 719

“Except the tale of yesterday, and the four that went before it, I
have not heard such a story since my brother Wisewit went from me,
and was lost in the forest,” said King Winwealth. ‘“ Readyrein, the
second of my pages, rise, and bring this maiden
a purple velvet mantle.”

The mantle was brought, and Snow-
flower having thanked the king, went down
upon her grandmother’s chair; but that
night the little girl went no further than the
lowest banquet hall, where she was bidden
to stay and share the feast, and sleep
hard by in a wainscot chamber. That
she was well entertained there is no / wae" J; ry
doubt, for King Winwealth had been “““ SS f> eS
heard to say that it was not clear to
him how he could have got through the seven days’ feast without her
grandmother's chair and its stories; but next day being the last of the
seven, things were gayer than ever in the palace. The music had
never been so merry, the dishes so rich, or the wines so rare; neither
had the clamours at the gate ever been so loud, nor the disputes and
envies so many in the halls.

Perhaps it was these doings that brought the low spirits earlier
than usual on King Winwealth, for after dinner his majesty fell into
them so deeply that a message came down from the highest banquet
hall, and the cupbearer told Snowflower to go up with her chair, for
King Winwealth wished to hear another story.

Now the little girl put on all her finery, from the pink shoes to the
purple mantle, and went up in her chair, looking so like a princess
that the whole company rose to welcome her. But having made her
courtesy, and laid down her head, saying, “Chair of my grandmother,
tell me a story,” the clear voice from under the cushion answered—

“Listen to the Story of Merrymind.”




CHAPTER NI,

The Story of Merrymind,

NCE upon a time there lived in the north country a certain
poor man and his wife, who had two corn-fields, three cows,
five sheep, and thirteen children. Twelve of these children
were called by names common in the north country— Hard-

head, Stiffneck, Tightfingers, and the like: but when the thirteenth came

to be named, either the poor man and his wife could remember no other
name, or something in the child’s look made them think it proper, for
they called him Merrymind, which the neighbours thought a strange
name, and very much above their station: however, as they showed
no other signs of pride, the neighbours let that pass. Their thirteen
children grew taller and stronger every year, and they had hard work
to keep them in bread; but when the youngest was old enough to
look after his father’s sheep, there happened the great fair, to which
everybody in the north country went, because it came only once in
seven years, and was held on midsummer-day,—not in any town or

village, but on a green plain, lying between a broad river and a

high hill, where it was said the fairies used to dance in old and

merry times.

“Merchants and dealers of all sorts crowded to that fair from far
and near. There was nothing known in the north country that could
not be bought or sold in it, and neither old nor young were willing to
go home without a fairing. The poor man who owned this large
family could afford them little to spend in such ways; but as the fair
happened only once in seven years, he would not show a poor spirit.
Therefore, calling them about him, he opened the leathern bag in
which his savings were stored, and gave every one of the thirteen a
silver penny.

“The boys and girls had never before owned so much pocket-
money; and, wondering what they should buy, they dressed themselves
in their holiday clothes, and set out with their father and mother to
the fair. When they came near the ground that midsummer morning,
the stalls, heaped up with all manner of merchandise, from gingerbread
upwards, the tents for fun and feasting, the puppet-shows, the rope-
dancers, and the crowd of neighbours and strangers, all in their best



THE STORY OF MERRYMIND. 81

attire, made those simple people think their north country fair the
finest sight in the world. The day wore away in seeing wonders, and
in chatting with old friends. It was surprising how far silver pennies
went in those days; but before evening twelve of the thirteen had got
fairly rid of their money. One
bought a pair of brass buckles, oe
another a crimson riband, a third eoTt
green garters; the father bought i
a tobacco-pipe, the mother a horn ft
snuffbox—in short, all had pro-
vided themselves with fairings
except Merrymind.
“The cause of the silver penny
remaining in his pocket was that
he had set his heart upon a fiddle ; ‘ws
and fiddles enough there were in
the fair—small and large, plain
and painted: he looked at and priced the most of them, but there was
not one that came within the compass of a silver penny. His father
and mother warned him to make haste with his purchase, for they
must all go home at sunset, because the way was long.

“The sun was getting low and red upon the hill; the fair was
growing thin, for many dealers had packed up their stalls and departed;
but there was a mossy hollow in the great hill-side, to which the out-
skirts of the fair had reached, and Merrymind thought he would see
what might be there. The first thing was a stall of fiddles, kept by a
young merchant from a far country, who had many customers, his
goods being fine and new; but hard by sat a little grey-haired man,
at whom everybody had laughed that day, because he had nothing on
his stall but one old dingy fiddle, and all its strings were broken.
Nevertheless, the little man sat as stately, and cried, ‘ Fiddles to sell!’
as if he had the best stall in the fair.

«Buy a fiddle, my young master?’ he said, as Merrymind came
forward. ‘You shall have it cheap: I ask but a silver penny for it;
and if the strings were mended, its like would not be in the north
country.’

“Merrymind thought this a great bargain. He was a handy boy,
and could mend the strings while watching his father’s sheep. So
down went the silver penny on the little man’s stall, and up went the
fiddle under Merrymind’s arm.

«*Now, my young master,’ said the little man, ‘ you see that we
merchants have a deal to look after, and if you help me to bundle up
my stall, I will tell you a wonderful piece of news about that fiddle.’




poh
ot
|
82 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

‘“‘Merrymind was good-natured and fond of news, so he helped him
to tie up the loose boards and sticks that composed his stall with an
old rope, and when they were hoisted on his back like a fagot, the little
man said—

“* About that fiddle, my young master : it is certain the strings can
never be mended, nor made new, except by threads from the night-
spinners, which, if you get, it will be a good pennyworth;’
and up the hill he ran like a greyhound.

‘“Merrymind thought that was queer news, but being
given to hope the best, he believed the little man was only
jesting, and made haste to join the rest of the family, who
were soon on their way home. When they got there
every one showed his bargain, and Merrymind showed his
fiddle ; but his brothers and sisters laughed at him for
buying such a thing when he had never learned to play.
His sisters asked him what music he could bring out of
broken strings ; and his father said—

“* Thou hast shown little prudence in laying out thy
first penny, from which token I fear thou wilt never have
many to lay out.’

“In short, everybody threw scorn on Merrymind’s bargain except
his mother. She, good woman, said if he laid out one penny ill, he
might lay out the next better; and who knew but his fiddle would be
of use some day? To make her words good, Merrymind fell to
repairing the strings—he spent all his time, both night and day, upon
them ; but, true to the little man’s parting words, no mending would
stand, and no string would hold on that fiddle. Merrymind tried every-
thing, and wearied himself to no purpose. At last he thought of
inquiring after people who spun at night; and this seemed such a good
ee to the north country people, that they wanted no other till the next

air.

“In the meantime Merrymind lost credit at home and abroad.
Everybody believed in his father’s prophecy ; his brothers and sisters
valued him no more than a herd-boy ; the neighbours thought he must
turn out a scapegrace. Still the boy would not part with his fiddle.
It was his silver pennyworth, and he had a strong hope of mending the
strings for all that had come and gone ; but since nobody at home
cared for him except his mother, and as she had twelve other children,
he resolved to leave the scorn behind him, and go to seek his fortune.

“ The family were not very sorry to hear of that intention, being ina
manner ashamed of him; besides, they could spare one out of thirteen.
His father gave him a barley cake, and his mother her blessing. All
his brothers and sisters wished him well. Most of the neighbours

My
a


THE STORY OF MERRYMIND 83

hoped that no harm would happen to him; and Merrymind set out one
summer morning with the broken-stringed fiddle under his arm.

“ There were no highways then in the north country—people took
whatever path pleased them best ; so Merrymind went over the fair
ground and up the hill, hoping to meet the little man, and learn some-
thing of the night-spinners. The hill was covered with heather to the
top, and he went up without meeting anyone. On the other side it was
steep and rocky, and after a hard scramble down, he came to a narrow
glen all overgrown with wild furze and brambles. Merrymind had never
met with briars so sharp, but he was not the boy to turn back readily,
and pressed on in spite of torn clothes and scratched hands, till he came
to the end of the glen, where two paths met: one of them wound
through a pine-wood, he knew not how far, but it seemed green and
pleasant. The other was a rough, stony way leading to a wide valley
surrounded by high hills, and overhung by a dull, thick mist, though it
was yet early in the summer evening.

“Merrymind was weary with his long journey, and stood thinking
of what path to choose, when, by the way of
the valley, there came an old man as tall and
large as any three men of the north country.
His white hair and beard hung like tangled
flax about him; his clothes were made of sack-
cloth; and on his back he carried a heavy
burden of dust heaped high in a great pannier.

“ said, coming near to Merrymind: ‘if you take
the way through the wood I know not what
will happen to you; but if you choose this path
you must help me with my pannier, and I can
tell you it’s no trifle.’

“Well, father, said Merrymind, ‘you
seem tired, and Iam younger than you, though
not quite so tall; so, if you please, I will
choose this way, and help you along with the
pannier.’ ao

“Scarce had he spoken when the huge =
man caught hold of him, firmly bound one side of the pannier to his
shoulders with the same strong rope that fastened it on his own back,
and never ceased scolding and calling him names as they marched over
the stony ground together. It was a rough way and a heavy burden,
and Merrymind wished himself a thousand times out of the old man’s
company, but there was no getting off; and at length, in hopes of
beguiling the way, and putting him in better humour, he began to sing


84 GRANNY S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

an old rhyme which his mother had taught him. By this time they
had entered the valley, and the night had fallen very dark and cold.
The old man ceased scolding, and by a feeble glimmer of the moon-
light, which now began to shine, Merrymind saw that they were close
by a deserted cottage, for its door stood open to the night winds.
Here the old man paused, and loosed the rope from his own and
Merrymind’s shoulders.

““For seven times seven years, he said, ‘have I carried this
pannier, and no one ever sang while helping me before. Night releases
all men, so I release you. Where will you sleep—by my kitchen fire,
or in that cold cottage ?’

“Merrymind thought he had got quite enough of the old man’s
society, and therefore answered—

“* The cottage, good father, if you please.’

“*A sound sleep to you then!’ said the old man, and he went off
with his pannier.

“Merrymind stepped into the deserted cottage. The moon was
shining through door and window, for the mist was gone, and the night
looked clear as day ; but in all the valley he could hear no sound, nor
was there any trace of inhabitants in the cottage. The hearth looked
as if there had not been a fire there for years. A single article of
furniture was not to be seen; but Merrymind was sore weary, and
laying himself down in a corner, with his fiddle close by, he fell fast
asleep.

“The floor was hard, and his clothes were thin, but all through his
sleep there came a sweet sound of singing voices and spinning-wheels,
and Merrymind thought he must have been dreaming when he
opened his eyes next morning on the bare and solitary house. The
beautiful night was gone, and the heavy mist had come back. There
was no blue sky, no bright sun to be seen. The light was cold and
grey, like that of mid-winter ; but Merrymind ate the half of his barley
cake, drank from a stream hard by, and went out to see the valley.

“It was full of inhabitants, and they were all busy in houses, in
fields, in mills, and in forges. The men hammered and delved; the
women scrubbed and scoured; the very children were hard at work -
but Merrymind could hear neither talk nor laughter among them.
Every face looked careworn and cheerless, and every word was some-
thing about work or gain.

“Merrymind thought this unreasonable, for everybody there
appeared rich. The women scrubbed in silk, the men delved in
scarlet. Crimson curtains, marble floors, and shelves of silver tankards
were to be seen in every house ; but their owners took neither ease nor
pleasure in them, and every one laboured as it were for life.
THE STORY OF MERRYMIND. 85

“The birds of that valley did not sing—they were too busy
pecking and building. The cats did not lie by the fre—they were all
on the watch for mice. The dogs went out after hares on their own
account. ‘The cattle and sheep grazed as if they were never to get
another mouthful ; and the herdsmen were all splitting wood or making
baskets.

“In the midst of the valley there stood a stately castle, but instead
of park and gardens, brew-houses and washing-greens lay round it.
The gates stood open, and Merrymind ventured in. The courtyard
was full of coopers. They were churning in the banquet hall. They
were making cheese on the dais, and spinning and weaving in all its
principal chambers. In the highest tower of that busy castle, at a
window from which she could see the whole valley, there sat a noble
lady. Her dress was rich, but of a dingy drab colour. Her hair was
iron-grey ; her look was sour and gloomy. Round her sat twelve
maidens of the same aspect, spinning on ancient distaffs, and the lady
spun as hard as they, but all the yarn they made was jet black.

“No one in or out of the castle would reply to Merrymind’s
salutations, nor answer him any questions. The rich men pulled out
their purses, saying, ‘Come and work for wages!’ The poor men
said, ‘We have no time to talk!’ A cripple by the wayside wouldn't
answer him, he was so busy begging; anda child by a cottage-door
said it must go to work. All day Merrymind wandered about with his
broken-stringed fiddle, and all day he saw the great old man marching
round and round the valley with his heavy burden of dust.

“ «Tt is the dreariest valley that ever I beheld!’ he said to himself.
‘And no place to mend my fiddle in; but one would not like to go
away without knowing what has come over the people, or if they have
always worked so hard and heavily.’”


CHAPTER XII,

The Story of Merrymt{nd—(contenued).



G } Y this time the night again came on: he knew it by the
WES; clearing mist and the rising moon. The people began to
: By) hurry home in all directions. Silence came over house
and field; and near the deserted cottage Merrymind met
the old man.

“**Good father,’ he said, ‘I pray you tell me what sport or pastime
have the people of this valley ?’

«Sport and pastime!’ cried the old man, in great wrath. ‘Where
did you hear of the like? We work by day and sleep by night. There
is no sport in Dame Dreary’s land!’ and, with a hearty scolding for his
idleness and levity, he left Merrymind to sleep once more in the
cottage.

“ That night the boy did not sleep so sound: though too drowsy to
open his eyes, he was sure there had been singing and spinning near
him all night; and, resolving to find out what this meant before
he left the valley, Merrymind ate the other half of his barley cake,
drank again from the stream, and went out to see the country.

“The same heavy mist shut out sun and sky; the same hard work
went forward wherever he turned his eyes; and the great old man with
the dust-pannier strode on his accustomed round. Merrymind could
find no one to answer a single question; rich and poor wanted him to
work still more earnestly than the day before; and fearing that some of
them might press him into service, he wandered away to the furthest
end of the valley.

“There, there was no work, for the land lay bare and lonely, and
was bounded by grey crags, as high and steep as any castle-wall.
There was no passage or outlet, but through a great iron gate, secured
with a heavy padlock : close by it stood a white tent, and in the door a
tall soldier, with one arm, stood smoking a long pipe. He was the
first idle man Merrymind had seen in the valley, and his face looked
to him like that of a friend; so coming up with his best bow, the
boy said— —

“* Honourable master soldier, please to tell me what country is
this, and why do the people work so hard ?’
THE STORY OF MERRYVMIND. 87

“« Are you a stranger in this place, that you ask such questions? '
answered the soldier. .

“Ves, said Merrymind ; ‘ I came but the evening before yesterday.’

«Then I am sorry for you, for here you
must remain. My orders are to let every-
body in and nobody out; and the giant with
the dust-pannier guards the other entrance
night and day,’ said the soldier.

“« That is bad news,’ said Merrymind ;
‘but since I am here, please to tell me
why were such laws made, and what is
the story of this valley?’

“*Fold my pipe, and I will
tell you, said the soldier, ‘ for
nobody else will take the time.
This valley belongs to the lady
of yonder castle, whom, for seven
times seven years, men have
called Dame Dreary. She had another name in her youth—they called
her Lady Littlecare ; and then the valley was the fairest spot in all the
north country. The sun shone brightest there; the summers lingered
longest. Fairies danced on the hill-tops; singing-birds sat on all the
trees. Strongarm, the last of the giants, kept the pine-forest, and
hewed yule logs out of it, when he was not sleeping in the sun. Two
fair maidens, clothed in white, with silver wheels on their shoulders,
came by night, and spun golden threads by the hearth of every cottage.
The people wore homespun, and drank out of horn; but they had
merry times. There were May-games, harvest-homes, and Christmas
cheer among them. Shepherds piped on the hillsides, reapers sang in
the fields, and laughter came with the red firelight out of every house
in the evening. All that was changed, nobody knows how, for the old
folks who remembered it are dead. Some say it was because of a
magic ring which fell from the lady's finger; some because of a spring
in the castle-court which went dry. However it was, the lady turned
Dame Dreary. Hard work and hard times overspread the valley.
The mist came down; the fairies departed ; the giant Strongarm grew
old, and took up a burden of dust; and the night-spinners were seen no
more in any man’s dwelling. They say it will be so till Dame Dreary
lays down her distaff, and dances; but all the fiddlers of the north
country have tried their merriest tunes to no purpose. The king is a
wise prince and a great warrior. He has filled two treasure-houses, and
conquered all his enemies; but he cannot change the order of Dame
Dreary’s land. I cannot tell you what great rewards he offered to any


88 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

who could do it; but when no good came of his offers, the king
feared that similar fashions might spread among his people, and there-
fore made a law that whomsoever entered should not leave it. His
majesty took me captive in war, and placed me here to keep the gate,
and save his subjects trouble. If I had not brought my pipe with me,
I should have been working as hard as any of them by this time, with
my one arm. Young
master, if you take my
advice you will learn
to smoke.’

“<«Tf my fiddle were
mended it would be
better, said Merry-
mind; and he sat talk-
ing with the soldier
till the mist began to
clear and the moon to
rise, and then went
home to sleep in the
deserted cottage.

“Tt was late when
he came near it, and
the moonlight night looked lovely beside the misty day. Merrymind
thought it was a good time for trying to get out of the valley. There
was no foot abroad, and no appearance of the giant; but as Merrymind
drew near to where the two paths met, there was he fast asleep beside
a fire of pinecones, with his pannier at his head, and a heap of stones
close by him. ‘Is that your kitchen-fire?’ thought the boy to himself,
and he tried to steal past; but Strongarm started up, and pursued
him with stones, and calling him bad names, half way back to the
cottage.

‘“ Merrymind was glad to run the whole way for fear of him. The
door was still open, and the moon was shining in; but by the fireless
hearth there sat two fair maidens, all in white, spinning on silver wheels,
and singing together a blithe and pleasant tune, like the larks on May-
morning. Merrymind could have listened all night, but suddenly he
bethought him that these must be the night-spinners, whose threads
would mend his fiddle ; so, stepping with reverence and good courage,
he said—

“* Flonourable ladies, I pray you give a poor boy a thread to mend
his fiddle-strings.’

““«For seven times seven years,’ said the fair maidens, ‘ have we
spun by night in this deserted cottage, and no mortal has seen or



THE STORY OF MERRYMIND. 89

spoken tous. Go and gather sticks through all the valley to make a
fire for us on this cold hearth, and each of us will give you a thread
for your pains.’

‘“Merrymind took his broken fiddle with him, and went through all
the valley gathering sticks by the moonlight; but so careful were the
people of Dame Dreary’s land, that scarce a stick could be found, and
the moon was gone, and the misty day had come before he was able to
come back with a small fagot. The cottage-door was still open; the
fair maidens and their silver wheels were gone; but on the floor where
they sat lay two long threads of gold.

“ Merrymind first heaped up his fagot on the hearth, to be ready
against their coming at night, and next took up the golden threads to
mend his fiddle. Then he learned the truth of the little man’s saying
at the fair, for no sooner were the strings fastened with those golden
threads than they became firm. The old dingy fiddle too began to
shine and glisten, and at length it was golden also, This sight made
Merrymind so joyful, that, unlearned as he was in music, the boy tried
to play. Scarce had his bow touched the strings when they began to
play of themselves the same blithe and pleasant tune
which the night-spinners sang together.

“«Some of the workers will stop for the sake of
this tune,’ said Merrymind, and he went out along the
valley with his fiddle. The music filled the air; the
busy people heard it; and never was such a day seen
in Dame Dreary’s land. The men paused
in their delving ; the women stopped their
scrubbing ; the little children dropped their
work; and every one stood still in their
places while Merrymind and his fiddle
passed on. When he came to the castle,
the coopers cast down their tools in the
court; the churning and cheesemaking
ceased in the banquet hall; the looms and
spinning-wheels stopped in the principal
chambers; and Dame Dreary’s distaff stood
still in her hand.

‘‘Merrymind played through the halls
and up the tower-stairs. As he came near,
the dame cast down her distaff, and danced
with all her might. All her maidens did
the like; and as they danced she grew young again—the sourness
passed from her looks, and the greyness from her hair. They brought
her the dress of white and cherry-colour she used to wear in her youth,

F




go GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

and she was no longer Dame Dreary, but the Lady Littlecare, with
golden hair, and laughing eyes, and cheeks like summer roses.

“Then a sound of merrymaking came up from the whole valley.
The heavy mist rolled away over the hills; the sun shone out; the
blue sky was seen; a clear spring gushed up in the castle-court ; a
white falcon came from the east with a golden ring, and put it on the
lady's finger. After that Strongarm broke the rope, tossed the pannier
of dust from his shoulder, and lay down to sleep in the sun. That
night the fairies danced on the hill-tops; and the night-spinners, with
their silver wheels, were seen by every hearth, and no more in the
deserted cottage. Everybody praised Merrymind and his fiddle ; and
when news of his wonderful playing came to the king’s ears, he com-
manded the iron gate to be taken away; he made the captive soldier a
free man; and promoted Merrymind to be his first fiddler, which, under
that wise monarch, was the highest post in his kingdom.

“ Ags soon as Merrymind’s family and neighbours heard of the high
preferment his fiddle had gained for him, they thought music must be a
good thing, and man, woman, and child
took to fiddling. It is said that none of
them ever learned to play a single tune
except Merrymind’s mother, on whom her
son bestowed great presents.”

Here the voice ceased, and one clothed
in green and russet-coloured velvet rose
up with a golden fiddle in his hand, and
said—

“That's my story.”

“Excepting yesterday’s tale, and the
five that went before it,” said King Win-
wealth, ‘I have not heard such a story as
that since my brother Wisewit went from
me, and was lost in the forest. Fair-
fortune, the first of my pages, go and bring
this maiden a golden girdle. And since
her grandmother’s chair can tell such stories, she shall go no more into
low company, but feast with us in our chief banquet hall, and sleep in
one of the best chambers of the palace !” .


CHAPTER XIII.

Prince Wisewit’s ‘Return,

S\| NOWFLOWER was delighted at the promise of feasting with

a those noble lords and ladies, whose wonderful stories she had

ho heard from the chair. Her courtes s twice as low as

; y was twice as low a

usual, and she thanked King Winwealth from the bottom of

her heart. All the company were glad to make room for her, and

when her golden girdle was put on, little Snowflower looked as fine
as the best of them.

“Mamma,” whispered the Princess Greedalind, while she looked
ready to cry for spite, “only see that low little girl who came here in
a coarse frock and barefooted, what finery and favour she has gained
by her story-telling chair! All the court are praising her and over-
looking me, though the feast was made in honour of my birthday.
Mamma, I must have that chair from her. What business has a
common little girl with anything so amusing ?”

“So you shall, my daughter,” said Queen Wantall—for by this
time she saw that King Winwealth had, according to custom, fallen
asleep on his throne. So calling two of her pages, Screw and Hard-
hands, she ordered them to bring the chair from the other end of the
hall where Snowflower sat, and directly made it a present to Princess
Greedalind.

Nobody in that court ever thought of disputing Queen Wantall’s
commands, and poor Snowflower sat down to cry in a corner; while
Princess Greedalind, putting on what she thought a very grand air,
laid down her head on the cushion, saying—

“Chair of my grandmother, tell me a story.”

“Where did you get a erandmother ?” cried the clear voice from
under the cushion; and up went the chair with such force as to throw
Princess Greedalind off on the floor, where she lay screaming, a good
deal more angry than hurt.

All the courtiers tried in vain to comfort her. But Queen Wantall,
whose temper was still worse, vowed that she would punish the
impudent thing, and sent for Sturdy, her chief woodman, to chop it

up with his axe. |
At the first stroke the cushion was cut open, and, to the astonish-
92 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

ment of everybody, a bird, whose snow-white feathers were tipped
with purple, darted out and flew away through an open window.

“Catch it! catch it!” cried
the queen and the princess; and
all but King Winwealth, who
still slept on his throne, rushed
out after the bird. It flew over
the palace garden and into a wild
common, where houses had been
before Queen Wantall pulled
them down to search for a gold
-mine, which her majesty never
found, though three deep pits
were dug to come at it. To make
i. the place look smart at the feast
: 7p : time these pits had been covered

j 6 a. over with loose boughs and turf.
— ae All the rest of the company re-
membered this but Queen Wantall
and Princess Greedalind. They were nearest to the bird, and poor
Snowflower, by running hard, came close behind them, but Fairfortune,
the king’s first page, drew her back by the purple mantle, when, coming
to the covered pit, boughs and turf gave way, and down went the
queen and the princess.

Everybody looked for the bird, but it was nowhere to be seen; but
on the common where they saw it alight, there stood a fair and royal
prince, clad in a robe of purple and a crown of changing colours, for
sometimes it seemed of gold and sometimes of forest leaves.

Most of the courtiers stood not knowing what to think, but all the
fairy people and all the lords and ladies of the chair’s stories, knew him,
and cried, ‘‘ Welcome to Prince Wisewit !”

King Winwealth heard that sound where he slept, and came out
glad of heart to welcome .back his brother. When the lord high
chamberlain and her own pages came out with ropes and lanthorns to
search for Queen Wantall and Princess Greedalind, they found them
safe and well at the bottom of the pit, having fallen on a heap of loose
sand. The pit was of great depth, but some daylight shone down, and
whatever were the yellow grains they saw glittering among the sand,
the queen and the princess believed it was full of gold.

_They called the miners false knaves, lazy rogues, and a score of
bad names beside, for leaving so much wealth behind them, and utterly
refused to come out of the pit; saying, that since Prince Wisewit was
come, they could find no pleasure in the palace, but would stay there





ee

ns
,
PRINCE WISEWIT’S RETURN. 93

and’ dig for gold, and buy the world with it for themselves. King
Winwealth thought the plan was a good one for keeping peace in his
palace. He commanded shovels and picks to be lowered
to the queen and the princess. The two pages, Screw
ag and Hardhands, went down to help them, in hopes of
Be. ® halving the profits, and there they stayed, digging for



Ww... gold. Some of the courtiers said they would find
yer it; others believed they never could ; and the gold

oot Po 4k was not found when this story was written.
POA Sh SS As for Prince Wisewit, he went home with the

| rest of the company, leading Snowflower by the hand, and
telling them all how he had been turned into a bird by the
cunning fairy Fortunetta, who found him off his guard in
the forest; how she had shut him up under the cushion of
that curious chair, and given it to old Dame Frostyface ;
and how all his comfort had been in little Snowflower, to
whom he told so many stories.
| King Winwealth was so rejoiced to find his brother
#) again, that he commanded another feast to be held for
J} seven days. All that time the gates of the palace stood
“open; all comers were welcome, all complaints heard. The
houses and lands which Queen Wantall had taken away
's were restored to their rightful owners. Everybody got
"what they most wanted. There were no more clamours
without, nor discontents within
the palace; and on the seventh day of the
feast who should arrive but Dame Frosty-
face, in her grey hood and mantle.
~Snowflower was right glad to see her
grandmother—so were the king and prince,
for they had known the Dame in her youth.
They kept the feast for seven days more;
and when it was ended everything was right
in the kingdom. King Winwealth and
Prince Wisewit reigned once more together;
and because Snowflower was the best girl
in all that country, they chose her to be
their heiress, instead of Princess Greedalind.
From that day forward she wore white
velvet and satin; she had seven pages,
and lived in the grandest part of the palace.
Dame Frostyface, too, was made a great lady. They put a new velvet
cushion on her chair, and she sat in a gown of grey cloth, edged with




94 GRANNY’S WONDERFUL CHAIR.

gold, spinning on an ivory wheel in a fine painted parlour. Prince
Wisewit built a great summer-house, covered with vines and roses, on
the spot where her old cottage stood. He also made a highway
through the forest, that all good people might come and go there at
their leisure ; and the cunning fairy Fortunetta, finding that her reign
was over in those parts, set off on a journey round the world, and did
not return in the time of this story. Good boys and girls, who may
chance to read it, that time is long ago. Great wars, work, and
learning, have passed over the world since then, and altered all
its fashions. Kings make no seven-day feasts for all comers now.
Queens and princesses, however greedy, do not mine for gold. Chairs
tell no tales. Wells work no wonders; and there are no such doings on
hills and forests, for the fairies dance no more. Some say it was the
hum of schools—some think it was the din of factories that frightened
them; but nobody has been known to have seen them for many
a year, except, it is said, one Hans Christian Andersen, in Denmark,
whose tales of the fairies are so good that they must have been heard
from themselves.

It is certain that no living man knows the subsequent history of
King Winwealth’s country, nor what became of all the notable
characters who lived and visited at his palace. Yet there are people
who believe that the monarch still falls asleep on his throne, and into
low spirits after supper; that Queen Wantall and Princess Greedalind
have found the gold, and begun to buy; that Dame Frostyface yet spins
—they cannot tell where ; that Snowflower may still be seen at the
new year’s time in her dress of white velvet, looking out for the early
spring ; that Prince Wisewit has somehow fallen under a stronger spell
and a thicker cushion, that he still tells stories to Snowflower and her
friends, and when both cushion and spell are broken by another stroke
of Sturdy’s hatchet—which they expect will happen some time—the

prince will make all things right again, and bring back the fairy times
to the world.



PRINTED BY
TURNBULL AND SPEARS
EDINBURGH

Bile (IS
eh Fes yoate

> Sree

ye GPS
































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describe
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449783f8222bbb7460cba47b4060a5b3
d9f7947127f080248a64dcbbb0a73b92c1799b3a
'2011-12-07T02:35:33-05:00'
describe
'145229' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXYP' 'sip-files00002.jpg'
78bcd6ae0da40cb56c98126f1a7d0c4f
c0c48d13d5dc13e6abe5a3cca88645ac37ec4f7f
'2011-12-07T02:37:07-05:00'
describe
'29462' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXYQ' 'sip-files00002.QC.jpg'
03c5731a1edb37b52e3d49c4597e0d7b
32ca2158bae06783bc78c5e2e64873bc3ced21df
'2011-12-07T02:36:25-05:00'
describe
'18774732' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXYR' 'sip-files00002.tif'
cb914065f7b4f5827f0f2bf47d62df8a
c0b86533912d8905ac008c47cc7b99d6f40750ba
'2011-12-07T02:37:45-05:00'
describe
'5756' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXYS' 'sip-files00002thm.jpg'
86e16b5ecd22ec87a7a2561bc714846d
265f3be74d22b9182841d0970e76c117cf064d21
describe
'226840' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXYT' 'sip-files00004.jp2'
358efcd793b7eb1390418e106ed7b909
1d977efc1b3bb6c2d8da7a8c89e669d6e7f27730
'2011-12-07T02:37:24-05:00'
describe
'23537' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXYU' 'sip-files00004.jpg'
2675d18e56a3340bc5a8c8198a2badb7
8fe1007100ab8e3aa1dc649203fc2101956360be
'2011-12-07T02:37:15-05:00'
describe
'4796' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXYV' 'sip-files00004.pro'
3656373c5f084e0fbf615df8ab1b0dd7
5ce0161d0830f9ee1529874f634ba3b7d7ebec8b
'2011-12-07T02:36:08-05:00'
describe
'7862' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXYW' 'sip-files00004.QC.jpg'
6f94d0d125b918e1a77e54f35608c182
4cb049419f5ff935cb3264e1d80e84be4daefa9e
describe
'5904708' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXYX' 'sip-files00004.tif'
9606d0f7366b3adf1e53d4153763bff6
efb353f3145532dbd726848f7d12382cf25473ea
'2011-12-07T02:35:24-05:00'
describe
'210' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXYY' 'sip-files00004.txt'
fd3127238f1b2025e9273d5928895c0b
01b321acf383222af56461a94e7efeffbfd34941
'2011-12-07T02:36:24-05:00'
describe
Invalid character
'2400' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXYZ' 'sip-files00004thm.jpg'
ba7be35a26d76d234a0ef13f2435e966
b877dac1146234d3a874abd759132b16cab0d1fd
'2011-12-07T02:35:13-05:00'
describe
'574986' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZA' 'sip-files00005.jp2'
ad63ae4699fa66c81480e6eeac484572
8da949cfbdaea05b3bbb8a2c3bceaae7460e0ef0
'2011-12-07T02:36:42-05:00'
describe
'31104' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZB' 'sip-files00005.jpg'
23c816ecf39dcce344bdee6f00125336
920dfae1336e05fa101b4101e842fe7c57b262f2
'2011-12-07T02:37:10-05:00'
describe
'7670' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZC' 'sip-files00005.QC.jpg'
1bab34e63be4c59162c69d0b35a81a3e
d6182b9b169dab17d040057bbde165a0947955a6
describe
'5904812' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZD' 'sip-files00005.tif'
765ba3e767708996ddd601d02cb68981
969a548d22480a3085ffb49235141e3db9eae962
'2011-12-07T02:37:27-05:00'
describe
'2276' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZE' 'sip-files00005thm.jpg'
a9cacb7850dfc28b17b348687afe07ac
fb68f920f1db70f6e970be1fad8a0a241458b80c
describe
'766173' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZF' 'sip-files00007.jp2'
c9ded3967dffa17557cdffc3d3ee2e80
892769740c2dde40f58b22c1adba0c498a69f964
'2011-12-07T02:35:14-05:00'
describe
'100117' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZG' 'sip-files00007.jpg'
e72ca7060b80cc45e4c33032871d56b6
d459d757ec9d8a54efd8efa5b880e2248ea9af49
'2011-12-07T02:35:10-05:00'
describe
'21775' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZH' 'sip-files00007.QC.jpg'
6bba3e3ec181147fce5cd8b722b38dca
c205b70339e53028458e57446beb0c9dcf74dbe5
describe
'18411592' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZI' 'sip-files00007.tif'
d820f868b43423336f44e07a2d73b903
7876575ad295cf957a22fd7ba4db99d214df7df3
'2011-12-07T02:35:54-05:00'
describe
'6106' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZJ' 'sip-files00007thm.jpg'
993d4f82666666e9a51e4b872c880bff
769298fc5e7fbcf790921bba4c60d9251821a0e2
'2011-12-07T02:37:23-05:00'
describe
'564678' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZK' 'sip-files00008.jp2'
27d802a4948ed02da1c982f46295cc21
d37f1fb09a16e8091ffcc1e81f549db0ceacc812
'2011-12-07T02:37:30-05:00'
describe
'43717' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZL' 'sip-files00008.jpg'
f854c0174458967e3478b6966b56c11f
4e4955fc48b872d4bbb7f0846ff60a0085afea0e
describe
'5934' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZM' 'sip-files00008.pro'
e2e209856671d5f88f962bc5c2f3983c
cb0d7c5e3c54488eb45f92309287855404fc2614
'2011-12-07T02:34:49-05:00'
describe
'13743' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZN' 'sip-files00008.QC.jpg'
14c0864f1df04b1fcfae5fbf6e463689
389e1d772d4975c19662a4846c34a28685093495
'2011-12-07T02:36:22-05:00'
describe
'5903240' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZO' 'sip-files00008.tif'
c357be11de35b6df93070bfb89648aba
3daa7034a34775cdd29a7799b305036bf17d7ca8
'2011-12-07T02:35:22-05:00'
describe
'316' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZP' 'sip-files00008.txt'
3fb1365ad60cf2856bb7b0f38f434dca
fe8137bf262a4d91f5caf2dc17d2cad306462c97
'2011-12-07T02:37:21-05:00'
describe
'4245' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZQ' 'sip-files00008thm.jpg'
4b50795be8fc208de492071d5b4a49cf
2bbaed61d37dbfc2b79639847d3267d40a84327c
'2011-12-07T02:35:23-05:00'
describe
'327865' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZR' 'sip-files00009.jp2'
eecb3cf47e1e05d33ac07cc62259626a
bccbd6b580db7f8b888b57d3f238089d1f97fbd1
'2011-12-07T02:34:41-05:00'
describe
'21432' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZS' 'sip-files00009.jpg'
b52ff63c38466d7bcd3b1e9d2bb043a6
a06462c72ea4d04f9b5a407f2c3823c64f81233d
describe
'5635' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZT' 'sip-files00009.QC.jpg'
f1a1d6faf13d78b945651ce71bbf474a
a744b4b8b41db6d72387dae01632e1f5104c4e4a
'2011-12-07T02:35:36-05:00'
describe
'5904528' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZU' 'sip-files00009.tif'
796d2858d8c96026dc7bf0a904f61b89
dc62ef5d7ff5d414a21293cd25d8f8eddeb826f7
'2011-12-07T02:36:57-05:00'
describe
'1777' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZV' 'sip-files00009thm.jpg'
fb414fc1e7f7c02ae9a16be0189d0bdf
7d20879d5a0787fecd5601fac8358394e75b82ac
describe
'262144' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZW' 'sip-files00010.jp2'
34d6c7b8ecd86906db1b61b8590a646e
3ca2823274491db77d5c6aa2ec4f0f33205905e9
'2011-12-07T02:36:49-05:00'
describe
'28866' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZX' 'sip-files00010.jpg'
b91d72574670c6250cd17b67d2f352c0
ab820d66f96eac2b1e5af74c6088a0fda15bc7c9
'2011-12-07T02:35:19-05:00'
describe
'9741' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZY' 'sip-files00010.pro'
c3d65215eb18f24d6d3e5e171a15aec4
4c194ec276cdd922c5a08b8b9952ad8cebbfa60a
'2011-12-07T02:35:11-05:00'
describe
'8616' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAXZZ' 'sip-files00010.QC.jpg'
311ea383782efd491b713163493d3f2b
92a489526b3ae4072bde59b10b85c4b831f159d3
'2011-12-07T02:36:06-05:00'
describe
'5904700' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAA' 'sip-files00010.tif'
9b072595cc543820bd6308d35edd3a44
0976c39d48295d4d323704153baf0f309f4b314c
'2011-12-07T02:36:45-05:00'
describe
'453' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAB' 'sip-files00010.txt'
13a31f0c82c53c258274174089a513cb
15e1f9f672704e7640bf5855a1ff0fb4bffefbe7
'2011-12-07T02:36:26-05:00'
describe
'2341' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAC' 'sip-files00010thm.jpg'
515e74bcd069fe20ff00dfff5413dfc7
843a9f5dd5714f4d80acd5cdd12a0d501217be95
'2011-12-07T02:35:59-05:00'
describe
'291142' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAD' 'sip-files00011.jp2'
748ef2721c656a4865206b49de652c5d
5db3fc9956e8a6021775d963376c793848803e70
'2011-12-07T02:36:20-05:00'
describe
'20485' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAE' 'sip-files00011.jpg'
0e4093630b2a128880c4a04c05af8cfe
923f58a8dbc95cd8cbf4bdc92709b0570fecdbda
'2011-12-07T02:37:13-05:00'
describe
'5533' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAF' 'sip-files00011.QC.jpg'
aba8713bf5da80430626f0465344f0c0
160abd0cc0e001ddbe713a79d4ccae3c701685fc
'2011-12-07T02:34:46-05:00'
describe
'5904540' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAG' 'sip-files00011.tif'
8e748e0528d20c1bca7af1699b55c170
9882c69294254c4a1072508cbcaa20c7e8c394d1
'2011-12-07T02:36:46-05:00'
describe
'1816' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAH' 'sip-files00011thm.jpg'
f59634c0e52191acb17e0680ad669f7d
48ce78cf0939dc57f56d47e2b4338bda558773ce
'2011-12-07T02:36:07-05:00'
describe
'416722' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAI' 'sip-files00012.jp2'
6206518c2966c2a53639d6ab3b041ec0
49b39c9d569d6794e578581341c7680b05a56f58
'2011-12-07T02:35:55-05:00'
describe
'39210' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAJ' 'sip-files00012.jpg'
2b564c46a730dbee7ead86133258d328
35125bbb93d6ff84049ac6bea2ae87d1dd8f4389
'2011-12-07T02:34:48-05:00'
describe
'21460' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAK' 'sip-files00012.pro'
8e24efd1f0e26cd1370f7024e2a5248c
4cf21e0621cd7775841c3e97164c386bfa7b98bf
'2011-12-07T02:37:00-05:00'
describe
'13000' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAL' 'sip-files00012.QC.jpg'
889ffe7690badba110cef13c81e43c70
af881118fb07260d31c831e0f507d6a958148023
describe
'6073344' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAM' 'sip-files00012.tif'
69155f11aadb2af9368ddbf15352935b
920d6a77098bfdbd211a1d163432c8e0775da8bf
describe
'1153' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAN' 'sip-files00012.txt'
3b62700858f590967946d4f072ece5f3
44eb8921dc4fb557b66bbbcbf41c4a71bb402cb5
'2011-12-07T02:34:37-05:00'
describe
'3584' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAO' 'sip-files00012thm.jpg'
e5e57efad04eb7561ac4d78bdffa6a5a
98c31ea1c166cbe3e8959edd8cb1446bd952fca9
'2011-12-07T02:36:16-05:00'
describe
'758242' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAP' 'sip-files00013.jp2'
3c72ca5173d4744d50687715ee56e026
da0b0afcdcdf7ada42ee9ba20e523b30959b72f5
'2011-12-07T02:35:46-05:00'
describe
'97433' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAQ' 'sip-files00013.jpg'
46b59cdd8eab6835c285b441d22e9c26
2aff702089638be8d033f3cae4b4270507fe875e
'2011-12-07T02:37:57-05:00'
describe
'67487' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAR' 'sip-files00013.pro'
b3fd2f533f820bdb39ad8ef1225b5197
7d5f8aea07ef44077dfff04ac7c2c9e8e6b99a03
'2011-12-07T02:34:42-05:00'
describe
'24943' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAS' 'sip-files00013.QC.jpg'
c0326e2d97e2482616052452f11cf2b4
a32af5ae884d5ca2dad17c31fcb6bd295411caad
describe
'6074312' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAT' 'sip-files00013.tif'
dd7cd123eb17be9adb823bea8e2e7f61
c175633e1950c7b22d5181d0b4a43b459c5eafa3
'2011-12-07T02:35:48-05:00'
describe
'2778' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAU' 'sip-files00013.txt'
5db2d3ac2f3be75b6937f87ddfa8d3d6
e9696874b7bc51f057d886cb8dda7f73b22e9c46
'2011-12-07T02:34:39-05:00'
describe
'5727' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAV' 'sip-files00013thm.jpg'
78a69056e33bd085d4017c72fffe3c9f
da217679212c1b9b08286524ad83a40f761e5bef
'2011-12-07T02:34:47-05:00'
describe
'732979' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAW' 'sip-files00014.jp2'
ec42f650356b45c60d2258bca1bf89bc
8e7a53624c5bb121046a8e04c56f47d487a3b039
'2011-12-07T02:34:43-05:00'
describe
'105948' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAX' 'sip-files00014.jpg'
e436b583217cce95d2d667cd31634fc6
0c524cee5569cf7e8b6859622450271f8e8b63ad
'2011-12-07T02:36:13-05:00'
describe
'52949' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAY' 'sip-files00014.pro'
b39e89a280eba07a4c16a9d0d77a12af
6f2dd539e4252d8d64b196b24c956a00f9a13b64
'2011-12-07T02:34:35-05:00'
describe
'28294' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYAZ' 'sip-files00014.QC.jpg'
b9beca2b67d66f8047ebcb682c8d982e
6c36507eb08d400475079f477c211a252f139fb3
'2011-12-07T02:35:37-05:00'
describe
'5872788' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBA' 'sip-files00014.tif'
a9fac70d624a51aebc78e3b36d5c42d8
18dac66ee9bd42a7c96c3c3c42b205ef6ea3afeb
'2011-12-07T02:35:49-05:00'
describe
'2161' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBB' 'sip-files00014.txt'
a4e1eb2efe7ab3358d71191a26caff8b
40806b07e9ef16f44cfd34081da819015cd941a5
'2011-12-07T02:35:06-05:00'
describe
'6289' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBC' 'sip-files00014thm.jpg'
d21342cbffca524948395c1c419b07fe
010d31c60772933154bdb8561c5fbefa2ce6f71a
'2011-12-07T02:37:59-05:00'
describe
'758240' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBD' 'sip-files00015.jp2'
e6ce79604f42a088cf4143d6b979f900
44eeb8e4caa58f560bf4a521a98bc3416e2a25b3
'2011-12-07T02:36:30-05:00'
describe
'122051' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBE' 'sip-files00015.jpg'
23c5b8976cfc4ea279944f479aacf4a1
e03facc85a7bec742f4a3d159fa0234ee41ab1ba
'2011-12-07T02:35:09-05:00'
describe
'62914' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBF' 'sip-files00015.pro'
7bea858b86083ace9a2fb57454fe7047
a9c51e563001844bd0079e47e5100a5923eb6c4a
'2011-12-07T02:34:54-05:00'
describe
'31367' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBG' 'sip-files00015.QC.jpg'
39eed7f2e72bbc46473ce1091a0df992
836e680e9a95f52e1e016af39b06fda0e6a16871
'2011-12-07T02:36:03-05:00'
describe
'6075004' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBH' 'sip-files00015.tif'
2446316c2fb3475070d23ffed43c38ae
ffce1a603ba1521ca3797cc8ed0ec27e3be75404
'2011-12-07T02:36:54-05:00'
describe
'2922' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBI' 'sip-files00015.txt'
bbd4ee9a5c081dd694bfc4664450ab90
c9a65e6805e705b567fbbc7ebb7f5a00bf4897c6
'2011-12-07T02:38:03-05:00'
describe
Invalid character
'7110' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBJ' 'sip-files00015thm.jpg'
d33036fcc413f88aa10535d70a55207d
059c05032e037f236d3ebc4bf72e7863d3defd42
'2011-12-07T02:37:38-05:00'
describe
'736847' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBK' 'sip-files00016.jp2'
3e45854ba23b9c5f6c0a39f463d6f792
220b8054fab32b729e984a0618db8eedd775dcc5
'2011-12-07T02:36:01-05:00'
describe
'139775' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBL' 'sip-files00016.jpg'
e1ed8171a7e414c81742c392ad1df9bb
1184e4d378359a9eccb8c6b6846e176042742417
describe
'72836' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBM' 'sip-files00016.pro'
bf2f561a3be3c00d0ddded3b1aff0f2e
39a5e0c5a467e03c0ca0605f7f9d8febb9dafcf9
describe
'36248' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBN' 'sip-files00016.QC.jpg'
c9a0252a12a02d530b06b703d763b8d5
e4c43f27ff7f8b53e0966e660916e0249e1f6626
'2011-12-07T02:37:26-05:00'
describe
'5904280' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBO' 'sip-files00016.tif'
3d497aa99d828fbe7c4ba155310b2b79
8cb2447285162d286c6da5328b9bc4aff68d9d6d
'2011-12-07T02:35:41-05:00'
describe
'2858' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBP' 'sip-files00016.txt'
daa683788dc2bcbfc8707c936bb2b7ff
12bce2cca4c938cbd9ec7fa55906616e7a5156e3
'2011-12-07T02:37:05-05:00'
describe
'7942' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBQ' 'sip-files00016thm.jpg'
e2c10d581bf612fdbb9a18f9825930e3
184269a8b4f1038bba91bb50a58b9044ada4905b
describe
'758232' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBR' 'sip-files00017.jp2'
8b4ccca54ce89190111fc48242444396
4ed57b041ab8239862a0f024892356f625cdf4b8
'2011-12-07T02:35:42-05:00'
describe
'113145' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBS' 'sip-files00017.jpg'
4159311bfd902f1f0d307f8fcb78b0cc
5d08d848e00f8ca5e984af39a7d7a467c7a19da4
describe
'56560' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBT' 'sip-files00017.pro'
c8d9a2e9513e65c7661383fec27f860e
2d0f3fbd1ed9d90cfffecd9a977d864022a3482e
'2011-12-07T02:36:48-05:00'
describe
'28771' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBU' 'sip-files00017.QC.jpg'
458d3ac8f8fbf4fc8a5839292b131429
8937acc100fc605bea15aa91ca27bc293211d295
'2011-12-07T02:37:51-05:00'
describe
'6074876' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBV' 'sip-files00017.tif'
1ca15e3fd8cc032d1db492448e8f259d
154e2c801b160aed24d7417ce37cd4ad379cc5e3
'2011-12-07T02:37:47-05:00'
describe
'2934' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBW' 'sip-files00017.txt'
938ca2936c8e693c3360e77758020387
ff3a589690852d4489aabfb53cb3727047fa8e09
describe
'6748' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBX' 'sip-files00017thm.jpg'
2887c1b448aff06a3de113714d0a883f
bf7f4a2881265eb4e60f5995982f63a2e7a0ddc9
'2011-12-07T02:37:29-05:00'
describe
'758238' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBY' 'sip-files00018.jp2'
c9f6c4a32d7487148e52ef611ac71504
3aa01c3fe47b99f4a7619c7a34c82bd3fa27f47a
'2011-12-07T02:36:41-05:00'
describe
'134848' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYBZ' 'sip-files00018.jpg'
7a1173efb3def8409bc476e6836f5613
e4f9a6483ea11981b8b2128d842c390d1ca1c9f5
'2011-12-07T02:36:55-05:00'
describe
'74674' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCA' 'sip-files00018.pro'
51b5f85862aa7cb79760a19cf8689939
69f0e90b8016f071d9c14d77d6bba5ed03311ddf
'2011-12-07T02:36:17-05:00'
describe
'33899' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCB' 'sip-files00018.QC.jpg'
f7130fe1fd9480c547e95455471ad151
64b343e0dfd2dba8cc36d5d5002619791ed2a0d9
'2011-12-07T02:37:08-05:00'
describe
'6075200' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCC' 'sip-files00018.tif'
71e8bc0154dc02cc56b7808176d26d71
2c9a32131669f159038a02927c9cdf17126974ce
'2011-12-07T02:36:10-05:00'
describe
'2931' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCD' 'sip-files00018.txt'
055545370c2f7d226a66d143cc6f064c
a5daee27e0a3bec9b06c322e35b6b6f07f8f1a2b
'2011-12-07T02:37:03-05:00'
describe
'7409' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCE' 'sip-files00018thm.jpg'
db653ed83fbeaadded2d0c6c101ba4a8
0eb9cf1a19407e35551d4e58f5750da14ae2aa78
'2011-12-07T02:35:35-05:00'
describe
'737205' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCF' 'sip-files00019.jp2'
b108af4535999d33afa8124f73a44a11
ccbde2c97d01a152c8981eb36f4b6fccd793d498
'2011-12-07T02:35:04-05:00'
describe
'127397' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCG' 'sip-files00019.jpg'
fef276a04f268f46c7dc3b748e72ef2a
f36e209795236a2452c50e3402286e6059d3f8ae
'2011-12-07T02:35:21-05:00'
describe
'58124' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCH' 'sip-files00019.pro'
a94e04cfb34f60e949067df969a9dfef
b6e7fbcc5fb277ba2da1669bbb3a9f91cae47aed
describe
'33244' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCI' 'sip-files00019.QC.jpg'
6935bae766d178c1adbc0cc9938e0a6e
60cbf720f3e6786a33f4fe2a6df2b3940c232805
'2011-12-07T02:37:37-05:00'
describe
'5907036' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCJ' 'sip-files00019.tif'
2b9f16fa796f46a823a940462b20d2f4
69946a235979e3da75aa6a6851e1095d508b28a4
'2011-12-07T02:36:59-05:00'
describe
'2901' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCK' 'sip-files00019.txt'
c56497a51513b3238dbc48779d921834
899871fb34b57a1ffdd154fcd26e79d90c56a1ad
describe
'7805' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCL' 'sip-files00019thm.jpg'
2d0a7d41e3ee67ee58ae7c0ae722e270
e55a30a8ef3e17b65650b47cbd38942c3b932ea6
'2011-12-07T02:37:43-05:00'
describe
'747668' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCM' 'sip-files00020.jp2'
85007e1632a1bcfb35350908f2050021
491b09ab5c4545efa3852b77892192ab5e00e328
describe
'112377' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCN' 'sip-files00020.jpg'
c4e1921de1f939539f3736212c247f9b
cfc53dfc061a81a9ce27deaed767fe3a99825fd6
describe
'23729' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCO' 'sip-files00020.QC.jpg'
1d052ebef9cce10233ce34ff39943cb6
a99ea99ed97b10345e7bc0316e6faad52f8ff38d
'2011-12-07T02:36:56-05:00'
describe
'17963576' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCP' 'sip-files00020.tif'
f5bf6c9f4deb29b06506d855322bda90
80739df30f5b13878908318647ee92bcd045d6e3
'2011-12-07T02:35:25-05:00'
describe
'6143' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCQ' 'sip-files00020thm.jpg'
2dca4d5f00c7e5b47f238fe0626f39be
fb190ffd9243b837e7ef99ea46583b4643c7aaeb
'2011-12-07T02:35:38-05:00'
describe
'666854' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCR' 'sip-files00022.jp2'
e0445e320597263c0e6b49cc7def375f
cf119f27de1d480f3cbdc92c99437e85c95224b8
describe
'54359' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCS' 'sip-files00022.jpg'
7738dc60302f522ae60663875d515fe4
05c5cb0a769c9bf8f022ec7f674fab2521ccc44c
describe
'21233' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCT' 'sip-files00022.pro'
92e7938a8011a5071490910f393ada20
7792f1f395610ce7f6794c2cfdaa41d02fc4bbc9
describe
'14618' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCU' 'sip-files00022.QC.jpg'
68e50e00b29105d0c87e4ce6ab6df481
1fc7e154439a61c3744cd6aa4b082e4224010cd1
'2011-12-07T02:34:50-05:00'
describe
'6073612' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCV' 'sip-files00022.tif'
f65b743b16789e3a892d729252592326
6d8a9e6049f48a335cbe04d7039fe3c2cc3c0d8f
describe
'836' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCW' 'sip-files00022.txt'
0901746fe092139b4cfc4c110da09252
0559a0b3324ef60aba93a88a4a81ee01bb492d9c
'2011-12-07T02:35:34-05:00'
describe
'3704' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCX' 'sip-files00022thm.jpg'
183e285cdc0e9b21948830ded2811143
ad47bdd52010e9e5e9061eb53d46939881a1b840
'2011-12-07T02:37:25-05:00'
describe
'758225' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCY' 'sip-files00023.jp2'
94f5782bf65d7b25c68c641c1287ab56
424c4146b4e53dcb2786da580b062799f8fb0ac4
describe
'103072' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYCZ' 'sip-files00023.jpg'
9669e9c9674d1d7e5708436c5e43e473
38e42d85e983fc586ef10312bab5e5e53a878db6
'2011-12-07T02:36:34-05:00'
describe
'47975' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDA' 'sip-files00023.pro'
a71b810239d92c771eada0dba9f4f3e6
e249c18229b281024f876e08b4e3faa977e554f7
describe
'26712' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDB' 'sip-files00023.QC.jpg'
399693a44218abb15739602d3ec4f775
011cb01c5a55a159d347c8605df1748cce49e8bd
'2011-12-07T02:37:39-05:00'
describe
'6074800' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDC' 'sip-files00023.tif'
8067d828ddd602784713b31048cb8574
67adbb6f8fe247412d960618abec91bdfd89deb7
'2011-12-07T02:36:36-05:00'
describe
'1940' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDD' 'sip-files00023.txt'
5bd0593e5a327c043b052a34011bd0ea
211555fb67c97e3c7c9f70588e91b5e02cbba0d8
describe
'6228' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDE' 'sip-files00023thm.jpg'
1a4c0e9cf3960b2d96c03b28f6dc98de
c8369fd5f60117f1e81a41e89849d0a01ff8c2fc
'2011-12-07T02:36:29-05:00'
describe
'758231' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDF' 'sip-files00024.jp2'
1dbbadd4fcc798adab7b41fb703677bf
b3c292c2b39c03516d1962249886970a106105ab
'2011-12-07T02:37:16-05:00'
describe
'128214' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDG' 'sip-files00024.jpg'
3f852e8a969b8cb9e755487565d4167c
bf3461626ac8a4b0f74bc9a5374132dac3ba377b
'2011-12-07T02:37:18-05:00'
describe
'70950' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDH' 'sip-files00024.pro'
68db0ffc9d50ada18ae3122c401818a5
7b2b4fb7919ac480395bc00517661bb88af6af81
describe
'34097' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDI' 'sip-files00024.QC.jpg'
45faf756164a8c15461acacc61f9268e
5f7b1fc462949a9bf4bd03e98d2c733923b0b189
describe
'6075160' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDJ' 'sip-files00024.tif'
14cf39d864f2d1a85b0e26809aa3b4d6
568473903c409919a0cf91d7e206fc17bdfdf91d
'2011-12-07T02:36:05-05:00'
describe
'2799' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDK' 'sip-files00024.txt'
9a0da6ce13922af3f093d95635d5b79d
e52defc6eb7bfed694f75c54c2ac618b42ed91a2
'2011-12-07T02:35:44-05:00'
describe
'7739' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDL' 'sip-files00024thm.jpg'
e08ae87917dd05f1bb20f0089417d983
1546a4b274e2a471a487a103728ae669b810055e
describe
'758207' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDM' 'sip-files00025.jp2'
806f166970c7c5cfd81bed84230da178
8ed653b97bcf5592f0241c8a5cf38dddaf4ec85b
'2011-12-07T02:37:48-05:00'
describe
'129694' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDN' 'sip-files00025.jpg'
605ce82b334588d42a59481d8a0870a5
a2b378f7280b7f1db22c3eba61d97a60adf1ebd3
'2011-12-07T02:35:32-05:00'
describe
'67344' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDO' 'sip-files00025.pro'
b544f930d4f75927834dcbe340d4e124
68df809992979c74b84cd49fdad1e03e17a2fcd0
describe
'33694' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDP' 'sip-files00025.QC.jpg'
e9bcea7e7427cfd66016ec840e3a52a3
70855b448478b3a9b031854d23e7d7ada5a4f4da
'2011-12-07T02:35:52-05:00'
describe
'6075208' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDQ' 'sip-files00025.tif'
5efaba0363fbf96e62179f5bf333b08a
2473b41224026b7cb4341788a6198f7ac743519a
'2011-12-07T02:37:01-05:00'
describe
'2822' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDR' 'sip-files00025.txt'
dcaa3607d21726d255985f23e1eab774
0e2f4b3a374b950d2fd090589092d91ffb89594d
'2011-12-07T02:37:50-05:00'
describe
'7673' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDS' 'sip-files00025thm.jpg'
6c0671a13a6f283082e19354699e1ea3
9e843f052ee359ca038bf5f549f6e14446fe237f
'2011-12-07T02:34:58-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDT' 'sip-files00026.jp2'
b8bb313c6789bb81515ff52a1c254ca2
1152ee6c79323964b0295d059bcb1b242aeb5afd
describe
'122696' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDU' 'sip-files00026.jpg'
4d27dc223ea3185ce37ed5f592d10128
92e4dc5769513ce611f306dba7741264d92a0938
describe
'59454' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDV' 'sip-files00026.pro'
05f1b3ed2d110534637d515b0d22e05b
b34c43553806b55e1eeaeadfa4e97c352a15a74f
describe
'32129' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDW' 'sip-files00026.QC.jpg'
8d10d43f987fb30fbcf3b509ae7bcdc7
54220a4d2a923d531308b14e46dcd3f1408f54c6
describe
'6075396' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDX' 'sip-files00026.tif'
4f1453ed8b455ada2d7ee5de80742245
b280dcdcf1449acb67d9664155cbb642def64ef7
'2011-12-07T02:35:20-05:00'
describe
'2828' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDY' 'sip-files00026.txt'
ac87adda57431f99dfa336edfc6dd592
8d5cc3cfaddfbb8f3cd6a24b301be7ffdce96e82
describe
'7344' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYDZ' 'sip-files00026thm.jpg'
06823743916613b36956b9a0abce7eb8
3bb964aa3192cfa44d97713359b3f078f6f156a9
describe
'758241' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEA' 'sip-files00027.jp2'
bc48db9621617f30df06e2cb8db66f79
9f18057096b6aef30c1e0bd688ea6d116ee8d7ae
describe
'128418' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEB' 'sip-files00027.jpg'
ada188ba9590aa7edd5518fdbf274d68
1ce5922f1e5e43be5c91cb7c5951c1589b1831e7
describe
'70631' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEC' 'sip-files00027.pro'
459fd233d17fda1b744bceac5e61c428
f27c945169ab0da91c81516b308f9556094a7392
describe
'32949' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYED' 'sip-files00027.QC.jpg'
2183c4c0177ed7a1391b6ac603f96854
5e6a6b1f8af68421836cb6943139a51c4772d456
describe
'6075040' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEE' 'sip-files00027.tif'
cb78339580eee3628a3195507642434a
ce5937cc47a62d8c797155618e5919aeb6983abd
describe
'2818' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEF' 'sip-files00027.txt'
d0efb11234c38199d4df67d4f742984a
9a09b7ea81f746fc66789fa4e5161f072ab148fa
'2011-12-07T02:37:28-05:00'
describe
'7327' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEG' 'sip-files00027thm.jpg'
488bc24097e6561390c02347fe41870a
3dd643a4a06227081ce0ea4119e9498cd9835aa5
describe
'747697' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEH' 'sip-files00028.jp2'
ca0f8a2ececf15ac060dc17f38f09aaf
a7c7f3c69453ab2d2897e4bd70cf1c4451e811f7
describe
'126018' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEI' 'sip-files00028.jpg'
7df1976a9c27cf211edb5d3ff3c0d807
f7d24a21cc33bd9449f38842de3b72d8b611eed5
describe
'64751' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEJ' 'sip-files00028.pro'
621cd74a7786a6f8ef6625d9fe3e5513
62afbe82ed8c97b024341c7149a8984b68dce6e6
'2011-12-07T02:37:35-05:00'
describe
'31852' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEK' 'sip-files00028.QC.jpg'
e706f5783a799be2e906c7ece21d0665
6e2a5492bca6b103bf6618048663132fd5a626e2
describe
'5991072' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEL' 'sip-files00028.tif'
85f7046af816141b2ddd5e1ae5a98c4f
628aef614bba554c2834dead5143005eb5671896
describe
'2544' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEM' 'sip-files00028.txt'
acb23383581916f3ad4e1fa7ff75ae6d
c41702ef351c8495fef0714b5038448539dc07da
'2011-12-07T02:37:54-05:00'
describe
'7419' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEN' 'sip-files00028thm.jpg'
d69cb9547d3c5fba03158ff25250a716
100129c20e9e6adad33e96adcc3df26fb1cf7b12
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEO' 'sip-files00029.jp2'
f59f6415813dc6d86b3cf639c9175f59
d16d2e30d269d9de140c6b99eead643c98982212
'2011-12-07T02:37:33-05:00'
describe
'100644' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEP' 'sip-files00029.jpg'
06b83c9df97d049e0110ee7713bd3dcb
9ae1f68b2f3a9d11d5f7eb89cbac1c0324034394
describe
'38184' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEQ' 'sip-files00029.pro'
f2c70cad876479241c3091d1b6624d13
3ed8349a3618b188467faf13e0d52d3361619785
describe
'25515' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYER' 'sip-files00029.QC.jpg'
19e83a9fc5baa41b1874cf55363e43fd
01d111a2ab5fc90a293a1581a2ebc5ec0c8f16bb
describe
'6074848' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYES' 'sip-files00029.tif'
dd511b130d991014a221adecd651d581
86050a7f4c438393a5fea5416a90d412afd848bd
'2011-12-07T02:35:31-05:00'
describe
'2498' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYET' 'sip-files00029.txt'
192be73d2b52e1bea0e33e8c421cbc3a
55e508b679d15bab556daee73e6a79d2f8aba956
describe
'6182' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEU' 'sip-files00029thm.jpg'
bbfe266d62160eacbb1607a5364a3fed
26f270999b3fd7beab0f9a3a1d3649628d844b51
'2011-12-07T02:35:57-05:00'
describe
'778681' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEV' 'sip-files00030.jp2'
4ca526ec9e8f8cdd1f92fbb9a31a9235
011ab909c4512c4a6fa7f4bd92c02aa308a758a0
describe
'109759' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEW' 'sip-files00030.jpg'
2ad46b86f75e2441044f5dfe19c41a74
db0fd5a568937a76f3c4a34d4c8c77e6d52c9733
describe
'23955' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEX' 'sip-files00030.QC.jpg'
a6511a2982c01418b67980b784759256
939f34ef5fbe10124ee8d40f84547d1307858078
'2011-12-07T02:37:20-05:00'
describe
'18709616' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEY' 'sip-files00030.tif'
e092413edc7c2818d1f7c4d2ea440a72
d74c68ee94438f7d3a8a05c330e351ae0dfae9d4
'2011-12-07T02:35:40-05:00'
describe
'6277' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYEZ' 'sip-files00030thm.jpg'
9a1c72e82d0d055ecd763066cf4f3ee2
bf79d599128884387476bfcf681717a2217802eb
describe
'738878' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFA' 'sip-files00034.jp2'
5c6bd38c7d768fb7542cd52cbc119c3f
65280a5bdbabdc4d07307f07f6667779d823afa0
'2011-12-07T02:38:00-05:00'
describe
'112014' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFB' 'sip-files00034.jpg'
9f9dff9f143e9efc64ee9162939143c3
f605ad6a0797f60e537a63e27bf3a78ca354439e
'2011-12-07T02:35:00-05:00'
describe
'57322' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFC' 'sip-files00034.pro'
b7ce7b4821edf62d9e9e631303e9fb4f
db20e36852e796b6418b8f679eaff3b835a8dd6a
describe
'29266' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFD' 'sip-files00034.QC.jpg'
7a874971d820e61bb7284c9ba8eca5a6
7dd51a28a00a7422799849a634adf64a04c6f316
describe
'5920592' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFE' 'sip-files00034.tif'
94b9d9dfd936d85118712c053595fee0
c046ed34bab198016901ae6cd5964880238082aa
'2011-12-07T02:37:09-05:00'
describe
'2329' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFF' 'sip-files00034.txt'
650fe5c5d344844f598df5e60efb17e4
fbdacb8800d3db9a5ed30a5df5ef83567633d84b
describe
'6561' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFG' 'sip-files00034thm.jpg'
91a41c2201f50bb8154a89362be0a27b
9a3fc39c66ca12dab14b9044767f9693f00fe443
'2011-12-07T02:37:42-05:00'
describe
'758227' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFH' 'sip-files00035.jp2'
c41d8b54ca7d204dc73a5b808d674512
33c562234212f86f2e1e42efe78c7aec00ffc80b
'2011-12-07T02:36:32-05:00'
describe
'119830' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFI' 'sip-files00035.jpg'
590ef99831621971a6157e2624293fd7
0ca2f398da35bdd7ad073f7c75c7800973beb85b
describe
'62123' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFJ' 'sip-files00035.pro'
51f0514ad83faf4d30f57190548c657b
20d02c3c61f07ea74117b5e145f58317589943c7
describe
'30333' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFK' 'sip-files00035.QC.jpg'
cb8b16f760be1bbf97ad6985f4fa2f64
de55e04e4fabefba111850d40ea8539defee561b
'2011-12-07T02:36:51-05:00'
describe
'6075008' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFL' 'sip-files00035.tif'
4d27b47e0e65236c123e2d054e471196
303d4f9b270a6641b78fd144b038a942a9139196
'2011-12-07T02:34:53-05:00'
describe
'2885' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFM' 'sip-files00035.txt'
270c7044995fe3434645d174afd93325
cac6e12ac27fb520309a45d882009103d82ac8c5
'2011-12-07T02:34:45-05:00'
describe
Invalid character
'6988' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFN' 'sip-files00035thm.jpg'
f0990a4682c9a8a5a2f2eab574358a62
6e81a97890c70adf1207fe8537b6adeb6fa8c243
describe
'757820' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFO' 'sip-files00036.jp2'
2759d3552a883d6adf8618e2508ce423
22c88a0992196faa8bc06bc539dc314475bbc889
describe
'128986' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFP' 'sip-files00036.jpg'
5d60c87c8ccb2c978560cb3188e63976
f1729d3c4dc79a0faabe221e7e559df41472d2a7
'2011-12-07T02:37:58-05:00'
describe
'65211' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFQ' 'sip-files00036.pro'
91380d7eec2786ea4f9ff191dd0cebb7
34ccb82f6aa86b50d32ff84daaab7f5549d69606
'2011-12-07T02:35:43-05:00'
describe
'33403' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFR' 'sip-files00036.QC.jpg'
290464cca1cf6e0f64a6b551223c5971
6044977e9ff7a54de2cb8ea56580d0e940038860
describe
'6072588' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFS' 'sip-files00036.tif'
d292245cee95d380ac70ed37c886226d
9c41f10eb8ee9c532574c0af1d19b0f92c7af032
describe
'2615' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFT' 'sip-files00036.txt'
df7ac29dda25428c3cc422ec1bd900e8
964272a89aa798ff2890955c76a5435915cd0790
describe
'7595' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFU' 'sip-files00036thm.jpg'
827271a5749d011a3c7c53a9e1d00aef
aaa2a9a29b97dc515979b6b76db70e48c53415f2
describe
'758179' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFV' 'sip-files00037.jp2'
f20ebf332fd87796d40e045d202fcfca
b9104ab258b11dcd205a45f005986f3d98289f8a
describe
'133243' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFW' 'sip-files00037.jpg'
1a02c77bcce68472826ae6c2c398c075
2f274430c8cdb4fc3a8d298a974d2b61c0189bb4
describe
'73050' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFX' 'sip-files00037.pro'
1f7c7dd1eba47b847dac462d911d7d12
2f50a8e2532d65a4313c2ceb0165c3cd4ec4cf59
describe
'33785' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFY' 'sip-files00037.QC.jpg'
23cb13a413e877711825ea73e14d309a
4b5b5751b25aa11f648380f8cb3979ffb0efa0e3
'2011-12-07T02:36:37-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYFZ' 'sip-files00037.tif'
ac65ae19e58563e48e33ce38304bbea3
0977c334f828c455360cef37d5580ac7e0827c18
'2011-12-07T02:37:06-05:00'
describe
'2851' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGA' 'sip-files00037.txt'
eee16b50961ec77d0c62cfa095696a34
a51b717249015d433a1cde39f424735ace1ce29b
describe
'7403' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGB' 'sip-files00037thm.jpg'
69684dddcd1a8f3a4c54cd455df18f36
1486622727e742e6aa33df7084cb3a1e61647157
'2011-12-07T02:37:31-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGC' 'sip-files00038.jp2'
adc5f4d295ddbca55372de83b6f2553f
e278283037f41508b156523ccf6ccc9a263ae7b6
'2011-12-07T02:36:39-05:00'
describe
'121453' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGD' 'sip-files00038.jpg'
41b790d05f159fc429625ffa267b097d
178a6adca4aea973810f2a06a2acb389144210ac
describe
'59756' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGE' 'sip-files00038.pro'
03e676b85855e91746a7b2ee0413531b
91574340c9ca813c218c8a5a830409bbee9fa40a
describe
'31755' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGF' 'sip-files00038.QC.jpg'
277a818245cd947c1ce6976d1859c975
b9017f5845d5e8358ee5ca6f05e2725e7bf94adf
describe
'6075220' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGG' 'sip-files00038.tif'
2eb639816a37241f834cc4c42143f8e9
838d72b63ac8c42f58df662133117817648bbf40
describe
'2346' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGH' 'sip-files00038.txt'
92e2e43f7f6b8f9ba9cccf7b3768c7b9
cab5f66962e2b41880cc39663c1eeadd2e2fdca2
'2011-12-07T02:37:55-05:00'
describe
'7265' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGI' 'sip-files00038thm.jpg'
133a9a963610696c4104f921885ce3f4
51ea104707ee90204ba3de0b25d90d78d5600204
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGJ' 'sip-files00039.jp2'
f70ed505e8a1fa4201895217fafab2bb
98d4eba8b8af7ea5de90e3650dfc43a31e8a8663
'2011-12-07T02:36:28-05:00'
describe
'125406' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGK' 'sip-files00039.jpg'
b134a85d6562f36738a86b158a8cffee
dad72df394130faf54b278f503b8bc2e995f7b3f
describe
'68018' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGL' 'sip-files00039.pro'
a6ebaf576ae16e7dcef88a7e0d3855ba
145f2c5535d7da2141ac76d59dcf5608ff1e443a
describe
'32815' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGM' 'sip-files00039.QC.jpg'
025823a80cc80565228f41ed53abd054
e8807e6f14b5dcebd2817cca5660ae9e7ae33f13
describe
'6075052' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGN' 'sip-files00039.tif'
1731198c807325b0ba231e578c619c0e
1eb3de6afa8424c19a025715bcae3046d7565286
describe
'2691' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGO' 'sip-files00039.txt'
25fada42c0f033b4c3e60bc7ca41843e
2673143b2c7536d68dd3185c3d36fe5becbbd578
'2011-12-07T02:37:41-05:00'
describe
'7314' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGP' 'sip-files00039thm.jpg'
951e8c31a1d22a6b7959fc8504055e09
965b84c09db15e7880f6533265697580c44dc876
describe
'793266' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGQ' 'sip-files00040.jp2'
20a1e65873d0b2895274d0829d93f0c0
76ce9d1cf3a1dfca2ee1331cf88db967b543f0f1
describe
'83725' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGR' 'sip-files00040.jpg'
6855d9a68edae8be24281f284490f5dc
59d215f521aae9d8bb678e0674f312c41af50215
describe
'18574' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGS' 'sip-files00040.QC.jpg'
47c9eaaa09e10511eebea91dc12c0627
bb4ae7a42206402071b6933e2678e3ca7ba12442
describe
'19058728' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGT' 'sip-files00040.tif'
01ae5a6a0828ca0ff12ac5600a007c16
16b587e8322fd6617b05e0f90ed29808b61b86e3
'2011-12-07T02:36:47-05:00'
describe
'5165' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGU' 'sip-files00040thm.jpg'
3063370f7279f74370c14930a44c4c66
0591df742868a5062bf3685648b4be8864679810
describe
'758228' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGV' 'sip-files00042.jp2'
5f9abbda0e5e1b17d819a8e42709ff8a
9c50a2bf31d79f17884a8b53927ecafa3ff8c849
describe
'126749' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGW' 'sip-files00042.jpg'
f8dab77bcba0bbc09c99530feeac47d0
a1f3b92d3d2562e8857713e0fbfe9c7345918e7e
describe
'70325' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGX' 'sip-files00042.pro'
9bb42659a53a041eca4e95db974fdbef
04cc4f196d856a3d4f6ac268d9c431bfa561e47f
describe
'32751' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGY' 'sip-files00042.QC.jpg'
da0623c6e83ef93e512aa559a7640960
fa7a514a79fd9559e4dd63d8ee5f354dc9d62ee8
describe
'6075212' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYGZ' 'sip-files00042.tif'
95a77813c81b8139558a94bc6aabdb7b
29350fb2bcc73e01b57b7ef034e641a4baf48610
'2011-12-07T02:35:07-05:00'
describe
'2762' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHA' 'sip-files00042.txt'
d05a38f6015cc80192bbc9f0ecb23f96
fa6c7d323633184d2dd2cb631d41acf9da668348
describe
'7258' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHB' 'sip-files00042thm.jpg'
87a2cdd6da5454961e074f47d1cc5360
23d72b627a7be6a2a3c171d219a63a0d6985badb
'2011-12-07T02:36:15-05:00'
describe
'758199' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHC' 'sip-files00043.jp2'
bafe534359e8771f08fa79b95098d99b
e32d80a4ae8625f0e85070efbd10dae08dfce8d8
'2011-12-07T02:36:38-05:00'
describe
'117874' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHD' 'sip-files00043.jpg'
d236c18e0eab40712ac9ce30382ae9d7
2552f178a78660d243d3f15fa3f12583eea4346c
'2011-12-07T02:38:02-05:00'
describe
'62699' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHE' 'sip-files00043.pro'
bb5bf6a8e81a50170302472f0636999f
c7c76b449e7ed78c3b016c5fd5025ecd40b59916
'2011-12-07T02:35:58-05:00'
describe
'31005' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHF' 'sip-files00043.QC.jpg'
c8f73dcdb6c485602d2bd77ee73d56fc
c8bb225050ecf470e409bc2e31342c8054dab0bb
describe
'6074900' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHG' 'sip-files00043.tif'
dc6479606bcf914ac218053c1f189604
6bddea613b48a6d050d67833368f59b41a27f922
describe
'2707' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHH' 'sip-files00043.txt'
6716a9b7e66cfd7ee7d358765ea7075a
d28c743ada2617bfa833eed96d8330ca29a7a260
'2011-12-07T02:36:21-05:00'
describe
'7192' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHI' 'sip-files00043thm.jpg'
f68f9598f27113aead39c75048994dc9
be44e3786258e57571a057d9615eff369fad1c62
describe
'758079' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHJ' 'sip-files00044.jp2'
bf43fde54d0f5b5dc92a9051e66ab344
1bd9d2062208e8e943509d329204d2c207a0bf21
describe
'82148' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHK' 'sip-files00044.jpg'
19259335c25650871ca151feb4efa9cc
46a8ef2552a24213fd24d32b6eb87f2448684074
'2011-12-07T02:35:47-05:00'
describe
'29665' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHL' 'sip-files00044.pro'
ab46a79afcf1139aead71040e23d74d5
64fcf6a7b3a593eee17fd729f291432f28819789
describe
'21269' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHM' 'sip-files00044.QC.jpg'
13a4acb937841a9406d5c2844b12faba
39d8bdca2dd6183619e086156662155d9ad2fa82
describe
'6074468' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHN' 'sip-files00044.tif'
2ac35409cf2f057f96a0107612c265e5
a1b315a894e6cf573cc83ff3f51b6a4d20ab39fa
'2011-12-07T02:34:56-05:00'
describe
'1211' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHO' 'sip-files00044.txt'
3c2c3eb3461b33e0289b9a694f19fba0
ec65724a2c79534b08d5272e733688d26a98af88
'2011-12-07T02:35:53-05:00'
describe
'5226' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHP' 'sip-files00044thm.jpg'
2db0657d98bb43e7262c7135073803ea
647dcda847e1a78f21a135b4af853e8c0ce9035e
'2011-12-07T02:35:29-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHQ' 'sip-files00045.jp2'
3ef16612ff282e8f5d1714959128924d
3682d82014d03e6d728fbebad7272889b773de41
describe
'127425' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHR' 'sip-files00045.jpg'
fe752ba79f2c4cd3cce2c5c3108d3d49
dae82c96aac0f88e3f9b305303f11d1ff93d33a1
describe
'71397' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHS' 'sip-files00045.pro'
9a0060a3b49a967b42798b13fc936dba
51a35cecacbd5bfb51886bcc0b50289b560ca06b
describe
'33262' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHT' 'sip-files00045.QC.jpg'
c4c541dc9749c3121e4dd07757dbc7ea
8cc1d186873fe198048850fd8ac770b7147c9f9b
'2011-12-07T02:34:44-05:00'
describe
'6075240' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHU' 'sip-files00045.tif'
db7e46b594ef210981b5bf5044885789
88e55da6a5ebb02205108fdc820a0d1eeae29007
'2011-12-07T02:34:59-05:00'
describe
'2801' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHV' 'sip-files00045.txt'
770efd923db2af219ee83920169868d6
ff2affc93c41bc34afbd7e062826e78f79874c80
describe
'7364' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHW' 'sip-files00045thm.jpg'
c9ac065b231e3c8a8c967334ed664daa
af2c4aa95600809f14168d9f9c7ec12ae56d35cf
describe
'772141' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHX' 'sip-files00046.jp2'
dd2511bd1e70e976884fee975c89fb16
b30f41d4865c259f6b6460202b06c14a986e4a7b
'2011-12-07T02:36:23-05:00'
describe
'95320' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHY' 'sip-files00046.jpg'
7f8d2ab26151a8b56fb18bfb37946d76
f7710055ff519d55c5ab6f26c6f9a186b442e5fc
describe
'20220' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYHZ' 'sip-files00046.QC.jpg'
d9f51b228235d10471dbc60f6f8a7340
d8e11372f3287041ecdace9d83247fc401f87af8
'2011-12-07T02:37:40-05:00'
describe
'18555648' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIA' 'sip-files00046.tif'
de6d3d9043e57db942845cf22a93d752
8a1504ae39ef96077642ebf259be749a0171de38
describe
'5221' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIB' 'sip-files00046thm.jpg'
6af75b9f58995b8ec6f2502de1fa3298
9cb6c5a0f17306df462f656ec3463d54f739c4dc
describe
'737186' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIC' 'sip-files00048.jp2'
01ccb40cc88b4477405fe896c83eef39
5c32d7a262dca33086bcbca527c235d0c1285858
describe
'133469' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYID' 'sip-files00048.jpg'
4c336725b46c991fdafa4e93f86ce302
0b3a914995b8293f73b8846b6daf7869069f68ec
describe
'63453' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIE' 'sip-files00048.pro'
eedb44906a8e9710c483d3a2dbf80e1a
65cf2386c9edd1b325f57ca6aca206af691e7fd3
describe
'33580' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIF' 'sip-files00048.QC.jpg'
68af69239b300396d3b6344b2492d00a
e03a5de9813795949c2715622c7c39fe799aae23
'2011-12-07T02:36:11-05:00'
describe
'5907024' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIG' 'sip-files00048.tif'
10eec27b92c0b91ad1074a6a94e3b632
2844832913c61fd564819ca4f9053fb923a47d95
describe
'2537' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIH' 'sip-files00048.txt'
fdfbb3dc85fad87e41b7ee66a24e8765
bf3ad25e6e74166b932e469051a68004f810fc10
describe
'7951' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYII' 'sip-files00048thm.jpg'
2bfc855de7e183d0ee735452adc6624a
c9ae3fb364683ffc99bb6192c8af73278d8e447c
describe
'737211' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIJ' 'sip-files00049.jp2'
2caa7d995d9caa429c271ad4638c2fdb
10ca1d4b752da31c22cb4bce3cf8313aca6fe955
describe
'126201' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIK' 'sip-files00049.jpg'
b9fe91184a7ca4385446eae69e94c205
017981140e89698cf4b2530508885ff273c5ce64
describe
'61826' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIL' 'sip-files00049.pro'
283bd1ec479f2eab8924f6904bfd919c
3a401d081017b4cfd61f2105a6c17e10b432f3ad
describe
'32893' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIM' 'sip-files00049.QC.jpg'
412a2002f55aef0801ec497ef2d13141
ebfe5ad2001cb3f893ea6a98aa09d6da10a86f28
'2011-12-07T02:37:02-05:00'
describe
'5906688' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIN' 'sip-files00049.tif'
4d22b4c9bcb94314fb43ae098c5eecac
36a7940758ffc8f333e2f84336de778e9a831444
describe
'2837' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIO' 'sip-files00049.txt'
95af494108902a111d942ad581f8408f
97a0f6936b08861574ac9ea55463e5f40c69ac2e
'2011-12-07T02:37:56-05:00'
describe
'7306' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIP' 'sip-files00049thm.jpg'
d65e97461135d41148a799b470024757
c3a15b234114686b216daf974b12aa528d40cb9b
describe
'737209' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIQ' 'sip-files00050.jp2'
5ee22d7665ff4b482bd7d28d137a8d69
84076539100f51a016298974755e7bac852e2448
'2011-12-07T02:36:27-05:00'
describe
'138556' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIR' 'sip-files00050.jpg'
e7ca3b7061d99911bcfbcbbfb06fbea9
fa19c45de8fbbaf054dc9c53ea465972310f7dd1
describe
'73465' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIS' 'sip-files00050.pro'
b02dba85d43403d073a18244ab685355
a766035fde2de8906c60062e14b3ba867d660b88
'2011-12-07T02:35:15-05:00'
describe
'35920' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIT' 'sip-files00050.QC.jpg'
7913487317eae3d92e5f96cd59c7b421
2c1801fb8ecae65dc7eef61cf4ed0ad355b6152b
describe
'5906920' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIU' 'sip-files00050.tif'
fb3a43ff43dec6c1bf7ba8ab948d95ef
f4dc0ac164dcffbeca554011b4374617a8d4c6e3
describe
'2868' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIV' 'sip-files00050.txt'
fac494d058a78af33e909e52efe66902
db16c8615e4ed9fe52d70c1ae07d280cc3456d42
'2011-12-07T02:38:01-05:00'
describe
'8114' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIW' 'sip-files00050thm.jpg'
aa59f8cbb8a07270b083d3fdfa6a069d
1509bdc297cb0e6a7a59a09431945e3f92ff08d6
describe
'737160' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIX' 'sip-files00051.jp2'
c2a93cee19043932d94d49d7f0e66dfb
35c2edd1046c9009883712fe74ea80356ffa410a
describe
'124982' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIY' 'sip-files00051.jpg'
ea96f4d3bd2de9ade6cefc4444815df1
54eb6141058cb2db286b67dd0156216d7dec6d81
describe
'61249' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYIZ' 'sip-files00051.pro'
963a011be2e2ea3fbfb3b421fdbbe2b7
5d22758a44564c7676a1e64dbf9a651d536cd552
describe
'31815' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJA' 'sip-files00051.QC.jpg'
ce421fc2ab0d0469ba049486180ae7d3
7339b70e7eae543e324554ad079a44f794f27eb6
describe
'5906892' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJB' 'sip-files00051.tif'
336d74f05c84b94f09c4f9cd1c7d6f91
d16ae3b0ee8c9a7d12560ce58e39156a94259d9d
describe
'2730' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJC' 'sip-files00051.txt'
c6baad0e801f6e2829a92865cc4077b7
ffb88e4f94b6213164a5dbd8a027e335d5738726
describe
'7730' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJD' 'sip-files00051thm.jpg'
42c45b7da9b5ad99d6673d1386259b98
6ba419910edc7b877bf4bc48f40f35f282d8609b
describe
'765823' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJE' 'sip-files00052.jp2'
7de6fabb0672814322f9916e5cfe8830
ea8f34a2ee1951ae879c2d7c1e5de8f215b49f64
describe
'126681' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJF' 'sip-files00052.jpg'
166f32aaa21660777d9d2eaaa53e65d0
aa69334123ecaccc9ace58d214baea0970c5b2a4
'2011-12-07T02:35:39-05:00'
describe
'27667' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJG' 'sip-files00052.QC.jpg'
6337472299a88b35c9ffac436dd19164
c9a85bcf8fb784b4ccb0123a643a1c3d1fc6eb79
describe
'18400964' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJH' 'sip-files00052.tif'
998e74bad6e9437c87b927875b7958e9
bb1b4e1253a36e850277e970fb57802617436427
'2011-12-07T02:36:02-05:00'
describe
'6979' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJI' 'sip-files00052thm.jpg'
222d3331920015317ec3907e3649e7fc
d696c71d2517abbdca1d4e6c8dfb26a9bce45243
describe
'737138' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJJ' 'sip-files00054.jp2'
2ad94d7d186e3e7fd7569c966ac39e4f
830931626e019eed540552e0b6cae0bf20bb618b
describe
'145443' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJK' 'sip-files00054.jpg'
c51793f228dcca01af3d9bf3e52a51a5
5bf92e5db63dc18f9227a0f9d9e6c6d890655899
describe
'75895' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJL' 'sip-files00054.pro'
b41ad67c9f52978e5c02b2a203cd3cd0
bca2b2238f6d3a0007b6e3d3358bb1c880aa62f3
'2011-12-07T02:35:56-05:00'
describe
'37631' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJM' 'sip-files00054.QC.jpg'
6058ca5930f658ad2650f4bd9966d31f
db0bdc73699552d57f0055365b38c91c3065d236
describe
'5907112' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJN' 'sip-files00054.tif'
e1a55c924fca31b48cac92be45db8392
e1ea19baaff71d209fe7786934c0bb4ba6d4d4d6
'2011-12-07T02:34:36-05:00'
describe
'2996' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJO' 'sip-files00054.txt'
31fa41883936a7f790ddd8c2b3e220f3
b48c21658bbc631bbc7933f733f06b9649d84d2f
describe
'8155' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJP' 'sip-files00054thm.jpg'
6cd8a1f0f3698f6fb702f30332268673
8fcf88098ca2f6f3bb13cbfd90624bbe75ff921c
describe
'737195' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJQ' 'sip-files00055.jp2'
c4c02e71d24e9023a006f8dab0635828
93431bafc3877aa7f2dac33eb5a9719d4d74e990
describe
'135267' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJR' 'sip-files00055.jpg'
563d50c550e5de2f62b36b99ae1d0125
7bf71a09eabc7fbf9a96c420c40112bbf32b99ac
describe
'70658' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJS' 'sip-files00055.pro'
bac6fbf396bb7cc98c59f7445d3ea873
bc5ec99fcebd43815bec69cc04614ce93ed2b339
describe
'35140' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJT' 'sip-files00055.QC.jpg'
0f6148fbc2e66444449a1aa7434696c6
25b058c5512b32ae8f6291922887e9a8990a5b48
describe
'5907028' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJU' 'sip-files00055.tif'
29d2a49891e435ba9ad90a50b7e5336b
c8cffc5e5dd94de0352550fb63541e06c1e8cfdc
describe
'2811' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJV' 'sip-files00055.txt'
599cfd20d3d6ea8156e5feb180f73d2f
458b1553f04297cca5770b05fe031e784db2e395
'2011-12-07T02:37:36-05:00'
describe
'8028' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJW' 'sip-files00055thm.jpg'
7826ba25928cec17c6d7f5147505b974
e605e3e6bedf8e26c09ddb560b4d9fbae5ae016b
describe
'737194' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJX' 'sip-files00056.jp2'
1741641f1ee6dabd008d9d7cc96ce60f
f3ebeee51da773f586223570c1a767cddeaed685
describe
'132188' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJY' 'sip-files00056.jpg'
fc5da09e62f94104cbc44a252480078f
583eff6a2f60ce19ddd240c1af11c984caca6d3d
describe
'63703' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYJZ' 'sip-files00056.pro'
7da86cecfc177ca1ef601cb53bf3a83f
b6db6eba6d985d18ec68454995d22933786bcee5
describe
'35058' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKA' 'sip-files00056.QC.jpg'
303d40f868972758857bc90743c7ad99
edaf6ed9bbb04c5c42c5ea0beec18e764c450286
describe
'5907208' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKB' 'sip-files00056.tif'
da27ce637999ef61a3270c3707cf9129
3341eb23e7e8134a6b11708b47e2278040ba5131
describe
'2508' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKC' 'sip-files00056.txt'
7031cd637e9362b996826d208b5d1e12
f83c81f7af09eabcb623d447cd261c9f610fab2d
describe
'7997' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKD' 'sip-files00056thm.jpg'
0a3d52ecd6773b902f2d31746e5059ea
c5254d3f0dec7b2709035f21aef33b222a7e8a1e
describe
'737171' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKE' 'sip-files00057.jp2'
5aa4ac843f53eba6f4002beb4c46d013
fa69ee6d1576598f29dab1d6e1632ff5bfab6778
'2011-12-07T02:36:33-05:00'
describe
'135168' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKF' 'sip-files00057.jpg'
9fc0fdab35b739513a249e9101e9c3b9
9b40d87f5ee8cd9b9654d871f9a01aa1093c7f8c
describe
'53996' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKG' 'sip-files00057.pro'
e975dc732c648467521e1126b68e4d09
25a5b4b4fe1f6a52b3911b275e4de7d46ca03929
describe
'35444' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKH' 'sip-files00057.QC.jpg'
f141d9b8976036bd8fafb41b8bc5fe5f
8672dfdccde19b56d3a3d629138b0c528dfe561b
'2011-12-07T02:37:12-05:00'
describe
'5907180' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKI' 'sip-files00057.tif'
6a15dd13c80fc1725545d4f2f5a40e00
0f24d1aa68e3819065ab904ce109927d15e16ec2
'2011-12-07T02:34:34-05:00'
describe
'2912' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKJ' 'sip-files00057.txt'
369f33a82c760ceb36df73e4b5029bdf
e4882a0c3962b206d54dbc855996ba3420bba99b
describe
'8075' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKK' 'sip-files00057thm.jpg'
417a55c79d36e7a3356c6af1173afa02
688d3d22544b5fda9344aa9ae765e6eeb6040b43
describe
'737196' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKL' 'sip-files00058.jp2'
83e00c53007fc1097527a2ee51a6f5ea
0dede5f71567e768ed32cf71a5aabc2a97c48c6d
'2011-12-07T02:37:11-05:00'
describe
'123226' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKM' 'sip-files00058.jpg'
2a15c86168e54b05348b5818834f71fa
c4d444f8d12b86dc8ff0c63654ce9620413c4f19
describe
'62834' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKN' 'sip-files00058.pro'
f6dec3cc5cc4693d5156665113a096b2
367d04ac936db2511f394460af91241842ff7c20
describe
'32661' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKO' 'sip-files00058.QC.jpg'
c573d7d9b9d2383031a62472c9e4d669
bbbbcec478cd6213ea13d532f3d81a28ef4bff62
describe
'5906696' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKP' 'sip-files00058.tif'
6cec1968703de6fab5a3e5797a2f3710
5c6f273941fbc4f34b891a833f649546075d0f6d
'2011-12-07T02:34:51-05:00'
describe
'2475' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKQ' 'sip-files00058.txt'
f50b0ff76d688c0df9de0e2552af55bd
6cd00143d87c5f729bb4a78e846b97d2dde2a2d6
describe
'7317' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKR' 'sip-files00058thm.jpg'
6f5694d0912c15067630e5ed624c0f43
bef39d7b5e46f8f440b838e2c2978229a7009ffd
'2011-12-07T02:35:12-05:00'
describe
'737181' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKS' 'sip-files00059.jp2'
6be2b7b327a1487d2968d36a1948ab2a
1c63562d410a759494ae3ffe9bb7ce6c99abaab9
describe
'119117' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKT' 'sip-files00059.jpg'
897996370a513794f68527ee05e7320e
43f72ab6bb96f11aea3140c2e23b3a85c9538448
describe
'63745' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKU' 'sip-files00059.pro'
2f1578c85574a3bd1c5e5276f221e050
226ef9551c49d802e992931cbaeb55b9e8a4555b
describe
'29268' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKV' 'sip-files00059.QC.jpg'
956fa41a5b9da56a2f27f540f83dec7a
3fb031272f36d0005eeb6b047247175ce7f03260
'2011-12-07T02:36:50-05:00'
describe
'5906352' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKW' 'sip-files00059.tif'
54925b7bbb7135c523acdd28912a6434
26deca138b52da6457f4d2e4dbc08feaf6dbb7c6
'2011-12-07T02:36:44-05:00'
describe
'2549' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKX' 'sip-files00059.txt'
58b193b30e87685a74d20818ac02c84b
c54e80f0c796e27caccb202a1714c861a91990ba
describe
Invalid character
'6563' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKY' 'sip-files00059thm.jpg'
5e5e0712ba98de4d53ad6bc70d0686e2
82000c604525e9c187626d3f1ee51255c2111b60
describe
'756380' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYKZ' 'sip-files00060.jp2'
6629d577b835774dcbf2c5e2a7c2f48e
13977b43e8739c29f5c01ad03eab78d81fa15677
describe
'107037' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLA' 'sip-files00060.jpg'
121e16c5d37f035e1fbcf32262ae70d7
0801efbc6aab3461a3b646957f68c86d34cf1022
describe
'23512' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLB' 'sip-files00060.QC.jpg'
13fd032a16bbd0d4da6c04369646fba2
7c98dd5d2d2949ae2bdb8a4934c844bac5645d95
describe
'18174156' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLC' 'sip-files00060.tif'
8095c9572b1c294a10682aa0bf6059b4
213a26fd63da41dcc2929b185d279f35b75f2b7c
'2011-12-07T02:35:26-05:00'
describe
'6266' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLD' 'sip-files00060thm.jpg'
4f04161f3952b856dabbf369983a2063
ef957c7d48561c55ac3515948a7fe36d82f2fc24
describe
'736830' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLE' 'sip-files00062.jp2'
1c3f86faec2c42afc36760e6e1822061
83721da05d4f6082e72a586ef1136c414fa453b6
describe
'131486' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLF' 'sip-files00062.jpg'
fd4417f30bf474d00e46bc7c44ba210e
30ca77605f5852fb7c4ee77629d6e8a9d48f515b
'2011-12-07T02:35:51-05:00'
describe
'59791' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLG' 'sip-files00062.pro'
02db1411a23f2a4c199f34fba088dcb7
dae56743605b41c1373f183c8171e3c370be96d5
describe
'33816' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLH' 'sip-files00062.QC.jpg'
b5f972079697590060ef7db6967c65bd
bd1fe300d102539ff821d9e18d2ad597136656b5
describe
'5904348' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLI' 'sip-files00062.tif'
0582ad57f4ca0eb16bc5416b09ef2ecf
ce5865594039a7642fa46bcff0bebfc0e2232e57
describe
'2355' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLJ' 'sip-files00062.txt'
d0b1c884ff6ba8d671316afa6a89ffa1
7b40cd61cba620dd0cd36d686468374e9ccce584
describe
'7849' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLK' 'sip-files00062thm.jpg'
a2484150853422ef88d4947fea576594
25b2985ff23dfd980b52d23a54a6019afbfabb6d
describe
'737204' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLL' 'sip-files00063.jp2'
92cdab5c2f3622c9110c0ff2428d7ead
f8c4a7d876f04f88720d52d43c451346c13a9159
describe
'125019' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLM' 'sip-files00063.jpg'
ce9531a3b68c13291ed76f5586db8540
86aebd7170b739d09d9aa530d31f5054143e2f3c
describe
'64236' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLN' 'sip-files00063.pro'
a7bf6cb745bfde0fb678614589e34162
e6f27b2a89ccf0d4ad0ddd0dec1f0f248606d53b
describe
'32167' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLO' 'sip-files00063.QC.jpg'
4df249929bbc711fa4eb42af84e57afe
84b4b3f88ea29eb8f30ca9aa443874869de46208
describe
'5906784' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLP' 'sip-files00063.tif'
ee32ba1151785d78581cc63c4a3c6acc
dcd8a4a87fd6207718c62881b12f09a2428eec13
describe
'2872' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLQ' 'sip-files00063.txt'
cfdd95396a304798db1a9c3e503b3cc4
f8ea141ceac476c95e1fc6ba383d518631107f38
describe
Invalid character
'7628' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLR' 'sip-files00063thm.jpg'
6e964fdedecc0c4a5aa075e9646435b1
97f72ebdd2e40811663f1d9438b6363476d600bd
'2011-12-07T02:37:52-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLS' 'sip-files00064.jp2'
8e3c25b66bfcfc04be2cb046349c182c
4cd92923854cace5de6ddd9b18f5a2fc855ebd82
describe
'127119' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLT' 'sip-files00064.jpg'
dd6378c5a5a2738f04ec7151fa66e630
e80bb8e43511600d17aedc9212b05236ce586a6a
describe
'63457' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLU' 'sip-files00064.pro'
265bdeb16738fddfaea190285307dd5a
9c5b84e870b99c55e6fd5bdd238520fe5067b138
'2011-12-07T02:37:14-05:00'
describe
'32642' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLV' 'sip-files00064.QC.jpg'
63bf8cb9a2538f0ce05c663052efa73b
41400bbb14df3400dd5a33d83b5a3f58a7816b1d
describe
'5906840' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLW' 'sip-files00064.tif'
83b531b9ef11e2e89ee20f1fe5142667
a1d9e7dfddcd1dc0e89a37132d04b04d3c03e023
'2011-12-07T02:37:04-05:00'
describe
'2539' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLX' 'sip-files00064.txt'
141c120514d3cb570d1b6e4bc2e11ec4
8f23e94db0e7fae0663b6e84ef23d339450349e8
describe
'7470' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLY' 'sip-files00064thm.jpg'
eb64a5cbe8757a6dadcb95979909834f
cb105ab8aaac9ad5ec3eaf12b37b2678466ae094
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYLZ' 'sip-files00065.jp2'
82096b6d92466dccf06cfaa333625819
c49a81c39e700299462ba0f10ad672facdd09ad2
describe
'141021' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMA' 'sip-files00065.jpg'
743034da46b3d5789f5111eee12de23c
3823405703d25ec486240b3d75b69a4430459e41
describe
'74640' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMB' 'sip-files00065.pro'
e68e3fe52ade5ad245b2b6aee5be2989
1c35457d5a575c374fdf4f37452245b204483011
describe
'35529' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMC' 'sip-files00065.QC.jpg'
6d3b5beccf2886aed25ae6bfd4c62a34
e2ef348d5320135a8bcebf958b940410e8b092ff
describe
'5907020' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMD' 'sip-files00065.tif'
763995827d22d4269a0758574825c19d
91c54dfe0583ce6633ffe6cfc968caca79599244
describe
'2963' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYME' 'sip-files00065.txt'
b6ede1b49c0ab25ded37a46d79f75733
3acad2e27243e622ed90e37d574a64d90c5c3198
describe
'7971' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMF' 'sip-files00065thm.jpg'
8efcb7603800ec9d72b15aeed2849628
f465c54a831b35858cff4c6eddafd75df7bf1cb2
describe
'737207' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMG' 'sip-files00066.jp2'
52a425a92cf97953a9a5da0389ebd58a
41663007b85d4a7eec057d39f43c5b05f0c8da1b
describe
'80666' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMH' 'sip-files00066.jpg'
bb8f79af187727367c9622873d6f4fd2
442a8985db2bbb619b0946d07a31d3242188a68d
describe
'41685' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMI' 'sip-files00066.pro'
18210f1f2a05ddaf1ee89effdb3759c4
5ee22aeca3fca4c83601b2ceb6bfa41e280597dd
describe
'20807' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMJ' 'sip-files00066.QC.jpg'
3044c445b6bb90ab1fe685fc387f3680
56d1148c0962bae4bef6aaa607fc19eb4dc7ad27
describe
'5905688' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMK' 'sip-files00066.tif'
79e519abdb647ea895deb746adbd7cc8
bcd70fc0310a9c10169ca217dfde05b3e10418da
describe
'1642' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYML' 'sip-files00066.txt'
32c1d43588defbecbffed072389c4c01
b00bb517d5a81a61089ad56f5d793dfa72e02a6e
describe
'4990' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMM' 'sip-files00066thm.jpg'
814d0cd8f1eb9d156b478f2b73057a74
c10e4b253fbce78ff873478d3e2ed63ccd1fc72d
describe
'737156' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMN' 'sip-files00067.jp2'
5e57a708ea9e042bddb5c859395d8e03
8bea27cbb625780069648ab81c04642b5395b916
describe
'107925' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMO' 'sip-files00067.jpg'
aade090764b11fc0b329fe0897e0a42a
62fb556fb049dba0713d58daf030f642469f60c8
describe
'51462' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMP' 'sip-files00067.pro'
c0a30c695735324266e95643da6b868e
9256b4d5409fe68002d16145110b7786f6ed970d
describe
'27933' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMQ' 'sip-files00067.QC.jpg'
622f954184c4324e6524e641d9541a73
ecd90c8362b8f7ea8e620b011b1784c3c95aad7b
describe
'5906532' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMR' 'sip-files00067.tif'
e14d274d7022dffb6aab9ac9d992e61a
a5877fd947e4d2ebcd4fd07d9109432d2bd290bb
describe
'2436' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMS' 'sip-files00067.txt'
1378f0245d12626886e42287efc4c1a4
4712dd867257a9d58da798ceebd8aedc3b872d2a
describe
'6421' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMT' 'sip-files00067thm.jpg'
4eee5a22dd0457573fa96e3e1c9e3a3a
78d38eaf5c190670d21000874248502523f9ccb7
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMU' 'sip-files00068.jp2'
9c12012cade7810990ec1755885503a7
377ca176deb1b79e1d996e0a39a3865c546e82de
'2011-12-07T02:36:14-05:00'
describe
'133334' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMV' 'sip-files00068.jpg'
c6be2d25a0611c72838b801762df8bb7
dab09595579f0f320c3597334e4fdafe1620a6d5
describe
'64301' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMW' 'sip-files00068.pro'
e261c574a9cc85eac37f42366277b032
73fd9becba53d1699baf8faae8a512739de8a004
describe
'35045' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMX' 'sip-files00068.QC.jpg'
f544f8eb8b4723e008277d001f36143f
df75b67a128d485f7f51efe541998d806cca638a
describe
'5907124' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMY' 'sip-files00068.tif'
6b8202e046e3461ae62227e2219b3baa
7851fec88bf266e76063a3acac89abd8b6617b24
'2011-12-07T02:37:17-05:00'
describe
'2582' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYMZ' 'sip-files00068.txt'
22084329ed97bc2c76e50ac47fcb9c3e
1eb60a5c7b9ef44d813bd82721a3a5444bf07d22
describe
'7946' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNA' 'sip-files00068thm.jpg'
e5af348fa4ae3744a9cee855bbdeefab
111feae9722c3c5977c7e835736c7ed3444e3bbb
describe
'737183' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNB' 'sip-files00069.jp2'
d5aea8c95969fed10294b0bcf24f8aa5
37b870245c75ada4aac455678971524b135d98a3
describe
'134397' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNC' 'sip-files00069.jpg'
cd21830e5f8579dfe0513253287ae29f
869f142a65c2247af6f45d2129043b4b36e6ca83
describe
'68365' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYND' 'sip-files00069.pro'
92827608a350926ad9472c3f84ca844f
de52bd10f15eb018246ac4a8e48a06f235f11e38
describe
'34919' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNE' 'sip-files00069.QC.jpg'
5e45e9156f4d57f084f3bd4f9e6aa8ad
4495a4b7759c3cfbcbd94e850cf42016d3305278
describe
'5906844' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNF' 'sip-files00069.tif'
75ba10d725f699a159fbc39c356abddf
9b8956ca4f8d5ce7e644d439414a87b338341c03
describe
'2959' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNG' 'sip-files00069.txt'
447fa3943ba62e76879fb458aa6a1e89
5e797a279a3e7825f5dc6a3fe3ec6cd7fc44c640
describe
'7782' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNH' 'sip-files00069thm.jpg'
425dcdc60aa059b09fb4ba0471563ee0
2c9aff29ad15ebd115fc133d6ce628d1c2b4057e
describe
'747549' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNI' 'sip-files00070.jp2'
605be966b082938a0595c868e8185600
7d754931a04c44c4f40daf74d9faf7e70f3d791f
'2011-12-07T02:36:09-05:00'
describe
'99000' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNJ' 'sip-files00070.jpg'
5a07bb17500277dfc6aad5da846ef393
fe08f39f24a1fea7127b544008c1986824c7344f
describe
'22822' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNK' 'sip-files00070.QC.jpg'
d69a46c882d34e60c6149ecd4768ef80
cd4d6fbc4c71d2acd77b664cf2c0b5926482e746
describe
'17962212' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNL' 'sip-files00070.tif'
3fcd8dca14e82c9d16468f078d831038
2739ba0e1f85557c44986b81a246ebe270f30fe7
describe
'6554' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNM' 'sip-files00070thm.jpg'
d7ebd462a2f12713ab3f1684c072cf75
d6f7c5680685f6b97717ebead4d268fe772dc070
describe
'737201' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNN' 'sip-files00072.jp2'
eea331b51f578ccfa4f45ac0915db968
bfef5feb1567aaaa6e7653417e6eb2893f9103d7
describe
'136511' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNO' 'sip-files00072.jpg'
d88fd1302f66bf3003ad10b8aae9b8fb
3113a261121b779e5a12aee7a2b9f3d55900faf1
'2011-12-07T02:35:30-05:00'
describe
'70458' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNP' 'sip-files00072.pro'
cb884d15307a2d345527a631f6a672f1
74c4b8b088a21a07202815a007f89a9d27f31a2f
describe
'35486' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNQ' 'sip-files00072.QC.jpg'
51b4f99c7189ce7d04228da8e8c4cd1b
ccef3f24e3af10eb9abdad2fc8bc2564968e31d0
describe
'5906936' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNR' 'sip-files00072.tif'
ed98194a13dbc33b07ac0f975327b5af
1e90d9ef5fb1117e215444d9625d8fabf8866085
'2011-12-07T02:37:34-05:00'
describe
'2809' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNS' 'sip-files00072.txt'
8403f492036de2e6b848569e6a9821b2
c423d70cb7898917ee9b04a11c6407a9853bc098
describe
'7651' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNT' 'sip-files00072thm.jpg'
a73bc3b0c539dbb0b1ff62977841796b
6106fe4154dfa868b100aab37f4856b5766f5911
describe
'737184' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNU' 'sip-files00073.jp2'
a326244e589bf032460b675f97c61402
eb2765584ff32be1ed64f6a4cb53642888069a10
'2011-12-07T02:36:52-05:00'
describe
'134019' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNV' 'sip-files00073.jpg'
5123d26324935c62f447194b16217581
7c097d741d95bee5e9753b884c7e17d717ac4df9
describe
'70038' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNW' 'sip-files00073.pro'
325dd8c371fb8ad9f693328877daef8d
7b505848e6e813b5f33e20de3c6a7894b21d8d98
describe
'34131' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNX' 'sip-files00073.QC.jpg'
428d9675113622ef237a5cdda2011a3a
6c3e17e56422e87dc75abdb581c2a2275f1d3810
describe
'5906912' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNY' 'sip-files00073.tif'
dc10773144497c3b50e7bde38e8e7276
e3d8d8b4541b46599fe3cd192ab2886fea4ecf11
'2011-12-07T02:34:40-05:00'
describe
'2739' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYNZ' 'sip-files00073.txt'
c0a862a10720f52f62326df1ed328bb8
8956e4d1e5f30125bfad14f49d2b9fb11e397e6b
describe
'7784' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOA' 'sip-files00073thm.jpg'
2193df275b93a535240c4b2a73801094
50ec503659ebc2ab439257de3d05a5e5505ed5bf
describe
'644528' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOB' 'sip-files00074.jp2'
faa27b2879621a140b0772d00d16857e
fb03246f5b779131dd6852fccd5ea083fad84b0c
describe
'52463' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOC' 'sip-files00074.jpg'
cb238e67248281563f6166fc231a3d19
df3e65097384951e6cf4fe4f1cad9e71c9614167
describe
'18809' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOD' 'sip-files00074.pro'
14ac01c8dfe63e293dbd1151076789d6
3f2168d1256b24690cd3807d6a12f471cce5e38d
describe
'14130' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOE' 'sip-files00074.QC.jpg'
d32525fa1133a277d6e9c1d7f5fdae53
1c8c0dc576a99c3893445adcd3064b31f8138db9
describe
'5905228' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOF' 'sip-files00074.tif'
446ddf28168667a219d4851dd65f429d
6c36c72fa5a5d26be161540b1b160fdb44c70390
'2011-12-07T02:37:22-05:00'
describe
'859' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOG' 'sip-files00074.txt'
3fe64bc1d6f660179748909456d26a0a
fe5dd7de431a376403150a35d66642d9a440b6e7
describe
'3671' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOH' 'sip-files00074thm.jpg'
74c5fe82b8f3d8865ce756ae7d1c47fa
8c373648104652d6de3bf58afe7e08f5a7cd6437
describe
'737148' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOI' 'sip-files00075.jp2'
dcf233f4d3cbdfd04a398db3e281c845
7afd2ff71d3067dace30f74c072ff71cc8d80dbe
describe
'107139' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOJ' 'sip-files00075.jpg'
6cb5d68d689853a35b599b8f56e03bba
0a92f15b1a11197757f8c305f8aa5df67034a35d
describe
'50184' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOK' 'sip-files00075.pro'
feaee4d956092afcbecb45a78b64196b
2762c2a6fa3584cbbee7e96666b1b135d9636c77
describe
'27223' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOL' 'sip-files00075.QC.jpg'
e59599830969c90f844a1949d15b4133
7e6ee1f6f199b7b3750059f2ebc287befa7204f9
describe
'5906592' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOM' 'sip-files00075.tif'
7c83ade6c640c04cf5c6db82b7f63ada
806ef8dca5c270e34ab021327807340e16df6024
'2011-12-07T02:35:03-05:00'
describe
'2468' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYON' 'sip-files00075.txt'
73d86c2a0cfd41b2b80fd8c3946a3bd9
6b61c6ef9d5d4819b04846bf67b6b66543960e55
describe
'6432' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOO' 'sip-files00075thm.jpg'
646a49e41f0bf963e58821708ab03b1d
67ffd11695e098413efd36ac94e88ad60406a9dd
describe
'737174' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOP' 'sip-files00076.jp2'
93a3e716962c0123fcb7657d3cff28b4
d8b0eb8679acb0a78362e883b1ffb5b60baba062
'2011-12-07T02:36:43-05:00'
describe
'129750' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOQ' 'sip-files00076.jpg'
10fc90b96c08b988314b2bbe43a0aa5c
ba2217ff0b48c41e7a09bbb6f3b273e32a55a54b
describe
'62628' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOR' 'sip-files00076.pro'
9c060f22451e65b0d38a48e5d393f49e
57345fe6ce0d0a9fb6a8ccf1eeead931d66a4f15
describe
'33552' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOS' 'sip-files00076.QC.jpg'
ce8ec09ca59c4f68f2cf8dc1ea150704
0dd59cecee4bbad0eec1ae353da5235227dffacf
describe
'5906956' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOT' 'sip-files00076.tif'
24c8867261fc5cb591857a7f629420cb
536dfe735d73f44bcba827ca006063d02b4a4dd3
describe
'2493' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOU' 'sip-files00076.txt'
bade8778d3eae06f35a69403bb85181c
9c071bd31c90fc33f504ab6200b154f19953cf68
describe
'7783' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOV' 'sip-files00076thm.jpg'
ef905bb703134d6f2f9a08d3dec575d1
40a76002b2dad366bd00b07ca416c5607952c162
describe
'737167' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOW' 'sip-files00077.jp2'
ba50d580399d2580f57d79e6980e2285
9fb0fafbce74c90c1e921bcf9d1df0a30177aae0
describe
'139171' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOX' 'sip-files00077.jpg'
a13b876d7280dd791bc94953c056383e
a6dbd028326412941ab968bcd3038ef692c3520d
'2011-12-07T02:35:27-05:00'
describe
'74661' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOY' 'sip-files00077.pro'
188d20ad7510171f25b0e4eb2e4094be
10604929e9e7116572fa10c3631ad4a81075e3e3
describe
'34829' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYOZ' 'sip-files00077.QC.jpg'
eb3003620c3c580591469811970e5944
aa4809d5cb080901bfe0c1a6811c2c8cd79f46f2
describe
'5906736' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPA' 'sip-files00077.tif'
9528a036044ddbce1a70876bf2fd5b13
bb052e2a3fd93893490b655974fdfa2be1fe3950
describe
'2916' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPB' 'sip-files00077.txt'
29909fe12e6c41d28a32fddcbda5f382
4d3c90d64f555f897c2d8831d6d8423f8040e3a8
describe
Invalid character
'7755' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPC' 'sip-files00077thm.jpg'
c07739d0ce876d6805e89e3f2b5b5dee
9999c68e64d4776622e42a822871a8f888f9c50f
describe
'737217' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPD' 'sip-files00078.jp2'
53366a44bd300cf4295d86f2e59be276
f8029b7f432a00bcd21508ac5a5546ca4f41cb60
describe
'114962' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPE' 'sip-files00078.jpg'
a556058eb147e4e13a76ab191563fff6
bd335e804eb8c74de6944b2a313b8f17d13d900b
describe
'24275' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPF' 'sip-files00078.QC.jpg'
29c0dda835587bc434a7fd90bd874553
9eb6f1fcdbd903a5b75fc85e288b2d13357b8a21
describe
'17716132' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPG' 'sip-files00078.tif'
bf6fdc65c6a75f67acbe47630bd041dd
d6bd2d746965b43bfc06de66dfd28a579e6c3241
describe
'6107' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPH' 'sip-files00078thm.jpg'
c8debfc26aa20bc7db0dac5dfd7d668f
d276a757140fa8058c2b37484aa88620c0539d99
describe
'737179' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPI' 'sip-files00080.jp2'
301f2a3e0767a648ecdd2535d42eccb1
6472eaf4d4cde16a28d5300b16b0bf9e955d69b8
describe
'138073' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPJ' 'sip-files00080.jpg'
d7d274bb3914f22531a0093a112370e0
1531f3f24d9b27e1a09dca1251b9ea3390d3fd0c
describe
'73049' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPK' 'sip-files00080.pro'
2729d8e792a708cd83e96223cdc0ca9e
59921fbeaf920577d53bc6b1b6a839d592f4ef90
describe
'35910' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPL' 'sip-files00080.QC.jpg'
6c0304eceb8cf486440dff46cfde3cd3
e1e4b6207f26fa0fb6d7c97d88936b3ca0c545d1
describe
'5907016' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPM' 'sip-files00080.tif'
c26bb277a536644f79e382e143895be3
f46ce6ed02fccfa045a557182f3b5b95e4401b4b
describe
'2880' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPN' 'sip-files00080.txt'
c53f9bd57d7df2e80d823ac06e38b5d0
f692f1299501dfec3137b18727ddc616427a6a28
describe
'7753' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPO' 'sip-files00080thm.jpg'
ba11982a2612967fd0de249798a105a0
d57ef69d5f1bfc2b3fc29eae1063a89fbf549400
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPP' 'sip-files00081.jp2'
19a4058d0280524ded0593976327616d
82707049f0236e84abcbff841361fada17f78ce0
describe
'118481' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPQ' 'sip-files00081.jpg'
031a26e63a72870159a55fbfc5bc051f
2682a31fe9ee82c205f20d196ca09b738306edb8
describe
'60454' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPR' 'sip-files00081.pro'
ddb2a7279d79449416264e83b4925fb8
76b23516c22c2832e147536872d3f859da80b5e6
describe
'30051' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPS' 'sip-files00081.QC.jpg'
fd8f54e4622f1d41af33fd8c4567aaa3
a242d0da6b8086b4ec94573b3a80020d648cafc7
describe
'5906412' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPT' 'sip-files00081.tif'
332d37618dcd49bfbbea576680060b75
b1d3fee01c40a4572866735b69a18739cc8463f7
describe
'2506' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPU' 'sip-files00081.txt'
058cc377fdd06c30ddd05fcb4ad32789
5a112d7904b14b095c79cccac87d6e12db68650c
describe
'6859' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPV' 'sip-files00081thm.jpg'
2435b89d05ca06aa71e7da99ea2a2928
1ab12a7357817c44747d8afa41c92f12a6d98912
describe
'755883' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPW' 'sip-files00082.jp2'
789225e8763dd09363fb6947ebc269ff
15fac9a221099aa56d822b6d21ffcc948b6b604e
describe
'97810' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPX' 'sip-files00082.jpg'
a5c6d340c74455683e6baa820ea693ba
e42dcd60cbba2e6223c2e9bf6509697857bdc2f1
describe
'21000' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPY' 'sip-files00082.QC.jpg'
6f89294d3453828a7a398585058a3228
89bc65280faffff90f3f6536e644f14f689f63d5
describe
'18160472' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYPZ' 'sip-files00082.tif'
fbd0ecbbe5d56742e01f22ad7be9191b
a8b33a439fc20030aee47611200ebd0bc80f0b66
'2011-12-07T02:34:57-05:00'
describe
'5765' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQA' 'sip-files00082thm.jpg'
c973b4d6e516983109adf320dffd1d53
bfd6f73a177d658aab0307e168baa3f39b7c0e1b
describe
'737192' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQB' 'sip-files00084.jp2'
ef9cf3fef4250306b604af0a5f6a7604
95f8acbefb3ddaef8c9f45fb1df5f5dcb2c3e0ee
describe
'102566' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQC' 'sip-files00084.jpg'
ba3daa5b63fab6adbb66af32a9cad924
bac9eb0796d969c20f4982eb9adfe5a83b6af2ca
describe
'46231' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQD' 'sip-files00084.pro'
fdb0ceb06adaa9688b8038e490dcc5de
f754e44561e4fb2ddcb9da720743f0fb19af4a23
'2011-12-07T02:35:28-05:00'
describe
'26719' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQE' 'sip-files00084.QC.jpg'
1d6e74f5393b8a91f0b4759c6ce25be4
318e069665bb2a3761aa57e03b3aa3d43efe70de
describe
'5906456' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQF' 'sip-files00084.tif'
2f332b9fc71cffddd99b19f22652fa82
80a3719fa6b5150d5052ecbbbd5aab1570807912
describe
'1908' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQG' 'sip-files00084.txt'
c2f1914311d3936b1a4daf0de2eb51d2
7d158a38252e324f77921c23f556066b06e640ad
describe
'6205' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQH' 'sip-files00084thm.jpg'
736b32ec60756970fb7c029ce27c48fa
c4107b6097e2bb72d34a3d45c3c75c25080229d5
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQI' 'sip-files00085.jp2'
86df276db704ba542de4863142948c75
469949a3ecb7ff7cf0d54529b604f75e2de72bdb
describe
'141542' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQJ' 'sip-files00085.jpg'
f3a45df6ae2aeef4ad0dd00b31655eeb
1a33ba8208e373add31416adc3ac8e675bf73c80
describe
'76701' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQK' 'sip-files00085.pro'
d4f1eade5f570395f3cfbd56fe1f6712
33e6c8f9b2ef7fe59a11e763c26b5e2c0dae28c3
describe
'36491' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQL' 'sip-files00085.QC.jpg'
4e4e5849ca203715359b76bd65289c2f
9a04c8960c63dc902f0fdbd522af68a94118e863
describe
'5906748' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQM' 'sip-files00085.tif'
af8390ef86f0bd7887cbdc8a7f890b5f
67ed4e8c4f10e9ed4b00051e73684e05da3da596
describe
'3010' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQN' 'sip-files00085.txt'
43735beffd32a738be2a126a1b631b04
246811afeeec4206b460ad6bbcc6184b2ff28efa
describe
'7808' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQO' 'sip-files00085thm.jpg'
e72103476673f6750fb921e0f5cd289f
f991db09aa7f369371451fb326669a50efed42e2
'2011-12-07T02:35:01-05:00'
describe
'737206' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQP' 'sip-files00086.jp2'
77686ac22bbcbf2071a0ac9b85241af2
5da794813e3b2c7f126f76f8df58aec36c3f77d5
describe
'131533' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQQ' 'sip-files00086.jpg'
f760fa5c0e7ed867ee33982d1f3ef462
3cb33797e65a6df69aea135cabd83910d7889382
describe
'65566' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQR' 'sip-files00086.pro'
2baa945c7b7275b520bd46c5115761c6
da4fc073e9761e9e88c7d46e7a97dad64e7006c8
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQS' 'sip-files00086.QC.jpg'
b1c3d16f06f9595a525d17eaa6b12e03
ade606769c3e706f8a6e275d9646ef604546602e
describe
'5906988' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQT' 'sip-files00086.tif'
a0c0cc561ee98ee8b208b6a802fa18f1
46009bc3c398e84b6901201ac199491bc2474463
describe
'2604' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQU' 'sip-files00086.txt'
2bf4d3c5939c45456e345c71121774b3
f8fd89c7d8705cff2b67b4689d42dcfd464fdf96
'2011-12-07T02:37:44-05:00'
describe
'7790' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQV' 'sip-files00086thm.jpg'
71097eb5fb4115ba0ef13340ad6103af
dce0d5747980097b34199596cc63fe243ab2c73b
describe
'737118' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQW' 'sip-files00087.jp2'
568cd0a405c779a8d26a838411c0d4c0
d55d7e1d5cb184ab76efc2a9f1b825c9f0bd548f
describe
'121947' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQX' 'sip-files00087.jpg'
3b907dca40ea91dd3e3e165686d12ed2
2e091c2817f8c32e096bfb3a5a5be4862463c3a9
describe
'58584' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQY' 'sip-files00087.pro'
fff87394e401806eca67f0dcdd8029db
8ae35044131e93111382c349faa83e671124c500
describe
'31427' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYQZ' 'sip-files00087.QC.jpg'
5a88f73b58fe4917561b7042ad64bca8
2f67b48b8642d0f817e7e61b702a37c0b45570b9
describe
'5906652' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRA' 'sip-files00087.tif'
529d5affc659ceddb0c8c30ac73c2702
2fec7faf175eefc413a1613894ddce7b7fc128e7
describe
'2443' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRB' 'sip-files00087.txt'
9477fe8e5efcc2d2267ff85d477b725a
2d69fd03b8878827e287fe702cf40343cadb0698
describe
'7379' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRC' 'sip-files00087thm.jpg'
55a7a783b34e9e34baa7b71322c30b67
23ed5a2a81820261f69dca59768877aee781c5ed
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRD' 'sip-files00088.jp2'
38ff7d4ceea005cf561e6a4709d2afcc
7a72ee465c576e4c4021a63e6273b73035f443d6
describe
'122752' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRE' 'sip-files00088.jpg'
ff4e214aad9240c9dd6c7b54c36ad20f
cae8f00e7da4a77f631d41d889d59690bfeb3e23
describe
'61676' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRF' 'sip-files00088.pro'
e9a82e287a6a7e9b02768c23678cfe6b
12ce17f87f1bbaf2ca04649dc964600b0a0448e9
describe
'31595' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRG' 'sip-files00088.QC.jpg'
03cfc68ffb823bbf2abad27bb4a31b78
09264c2ae5d05709d4c10a5fb60072dafbc99aad
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRH' 'sip-files00088.tif'
9a48dae911217aafd1d20741ed5ea70f
6b15a3ed285abc3b5003ade47f64a836d7664cb4
describe
'2460' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRI' 'sip-files00088.txt'
38d381080d121973ff160a8abba5113b
05aee907176913f52f86fbefb3336f884c75bbce
describe
'7061' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRJ' 'sip-files00088thm.jpg'
192b52077ae7873ce241dd1b0c239bb5
04f13d804a8afbbf56076167df3cd72430291bdd
describe
'737173' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRK' 'sip-files00089.jp2'
f6641c00a76e2371b8adc3b3a04ff47e
bcb2b34a118624fd17bf6c33467288bc8ccf2766
describe
'132782' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRL' 'sip-files00089.jpg'
0c0dfaf47e398d053073948f504b130c
76c9c852ea0916bb0176b82f2b7d693ffba397dd
describe
'68928' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRM' 'sip-files00089.pro'
1751a8479553741c6186e68187069072
0788cf409a74eb0dd1e0d3fea72ff9990042c8a1
describe
'34022' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRN' 'sip-files00089.QC.jpg'
c0202d0a8a8c36bed0be5ea28b276f4a
9e6ae5d636d65e7067d0415cbd80b0709b390aa8
'2011-12-07T02:36:19-05:00'
describe
'5906796' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRO' 'sip-files00089.tif'
ffc3b5d086dd89323cd9cdfe266da046
d92561d16be1418ac2e7958d86a846a8bd0a3d47
describe
'3009' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRP' 'sip-files00089.txt'
35ea32283f7b70d5278db4e9358038f3
2ea31f392385cbd444915ee96088891329834ebc
describe
'7487' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRQ' 'sip-files00089thm.jpg'
205dee62f63c25ee21dce6f5e136bc81
c2afdd055f54145d818928f4f06dd58cebaaea25
describe
'730290' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRR' 'sip-files00090.jp2'
ea3171cffa38f9121581495483b4b763
97c8a2e71b8bc1c73e12e3278bc18a2118313a52
describe
'105846' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRS' 'sip-files00090.jpg'
97ee63deee5210df7d2de4667ed4c118
19225b9b371ff9a6136c08b27b595f68246ec21c
describe
'24089' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRT' 'sip-files00090.QC.jpg'
ee5ed60bf99f4404b970f2495fc79351
6fe7dc35978ad006ac2dea95c649f8eff73b365c
describe
'17547180' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRU' 'sip-files00090.tif'
84d1e273c58c5d59fc918e7ea62959ce
6c2ac9c157f2f9d33534bd51b6e9370bf2304420
'2011-12-07T02:36:18-05:00'
describe
'6661' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRV' 'sip-files00090thm.jpg'
0347bf6e16da1ce452ec63a90213b487
ffbf1409da73e1ed0697cf43232d2ca7571947c3
describe
'737153' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRW' 'sip-files00092.jp2'
4d6faefb915abc2ed653df9339fa1405
5418bcd83db590a5d7f38449382dda9b7a751989
describe
'117454' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRX' 'sip-files00092.jpg'
e2adcabff4d17f93d66c8f6ee5bee52e
78c6ae5683ef6bb4fd1e31e2f09481319f3c481f
describe
'57716' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRY' 'sip-files00092.pro'
8f246453a42d0f28b5b1ef7d89c28b43
95c87fecd6ff9f950d4f567a114bd9409713ca38
describe
'30503' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYRZ' 'sip-files00092.QC.jpg'
01f94ae65c3ad90c14c74b24a069425d
4d8c0b3c6bd538395114ea4a742d679139b38fc5
describe
'5906580' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSA' 'sip-files00092.tif'
78c7e5d8c6d60f1956737742c7242817
db7700aa2d0e1c61136414db9a780c983d7724e7
describe
'2290' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSB' 'sip-files00092.txt'
6b2d72bd40b9cd3ae1b01cca8621a2c0
b28e2c8c76ca7428def46b9bb235f567eeecf956
describe
'6905' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSC' 'sip-files00092thm.jpg'
36bbfd3cfa8601b692cb2e94aabb5209
cc2a3a056fdf33bb91b4d6884d7caeab2e58ffad
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSD' 'sip-files00093.jp2'
97509cc9a027f1ee7e43be731fb231ed
f113531ccc3ce78f28e5a0a2ea1bcdbe043a44a6
describe
'94229' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSE' 'sip-files00093.jpg'
b6e225879bb6215d928a07958c5956c1
696cde6d201f406125af8507edb15752da6a5ba9
describe
'41427' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSF' 'sip-files00093.pro'
d18577bd179bbb59e2bd840e59ad3720
0416e472e3c8df17d83f6f60fd914a3c370ce05b
describe
'23749' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSG' 'sip-files00093.QC.jpg'
061fa7e3e06a81726bed7740175d3357
c41498f2be990843118adb0c0b647219ad622dc8
describe
'5906116' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSH' 'sip-files00093.tif'
c2d3b4d556f6d7be4bbfe71d32c22a95
ceb9eec73eeeae08d851fb170d4dbaa5c36574c6
describe
'2096' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSI' 'sip-files00093.txt'
108f53e5e18f1fc8a6db5f7476dbbdd1
7b6ab84eb73804dda01f5c1984315de0423256b3
describe
'5863' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSJ' 'sip-files00093thm.jpg'
cfcddfdebcde804f583bcad851001e8e
40c03e6773328afb649552cbaef909a39df1a57b
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSK' 'sip-files00094.jp2'
68eb2390395297ba591d709d69d7aceb
47fea502f6217896bf4a8ed798e2b1c5edd488f2
describe
'101850' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSL' 'sip-files00094.jpg'
a249e8934c55d7a881235a5c62c6aa02
0a1124d94d7266f353a096817a08a8271c4215f7
describe
'47839' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSM' 'sip-files00094.pro'
039590d505c38bff9fe4595ca88c76b4
35380ea73c10eb9ad8b684957a4604f1d720afb4
describe
'26338' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSN' 'sip-files00094.QC.jpg'
a890e51a7f7b9c82683714bf0a70e89e
b07fb698ac603ffda5a73be9cf493107d0a101c8
describe
'5906268' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSO' 'sip-files00094.tif'
d5d06ac3df1df7eec12bd4527cec75c3
b6afa98c21b6038c925c2ade71d0007c7f0f76f4
describe
'2014' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSP' 'sip-files00094.txt'
17c238b8798dd2ebd8a74e3da18b13c1
485bc11802ed80d23a199d5bb1c70e825abd0fc6
describe
'6067' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSQ' 'sip-files00094thm.jpg'
507aa96aa348e4537ad52ea3339f9898
776de14139bab02188eadfb8a5bf66869ff19198
describe
'737200' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSR' 'sip-files00095.jp2'
958c9095e054d6968f403a7823041b02
14ce2d0897edde9a47564d5e2f7c6ff65e062907
describe
'134263' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSS' 'sip-files00095.jpg'
50c5ced68cc62bc98c50373ba7a964aa
82365eda1ac851f88c9f8f6905848287b13d63d8
describe
'71657' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYST' 'sip-files00095.pro'
e9e37f24bc9542c565d4b96ff013dc9e
9ea8c42d580632a50a3d36fbbb9605046139f79a
describe
'34926' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSU' 'sip-files00095.QC.jpg'
55c76524d0a11309f720e86a7e0690f3
b5dd4f7f62fd82278061ed9a701c83a2c0860de1
describe
'5906724' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSV' 'sip-files00095.tif'
e1fb55bc8ec9872ef9cf5e23761507d5
cb3eca85039328bcf7ca9855b1f5f51ec4f19cb2
describe
'2794' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSW' 'sip-files00095.txt'
0ab73da5d10ae4a2805b607e3c55f6bd
f13becccbe5c191d402bc5f370bf36084a1db11e
describe
'7848' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSX' 'sip-files00095thm.jpg'
e8d810c6345fba162a23c60c5e24ad66
b980d3bdb0f078b9e8ea30b82a3ab999e6e890f8
describe
'733522' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSY' 'sip-files00096.jp2'
d7ef9c10d0c27c3b98a8650892b6b560
8ad2fa009bc83b13ab7fc532e2595fbd511299e0
describe
'104636' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYSZ' 'sip-files00096.jpg'
45e123be37a232d3327a2caa6f6efce3
576e7f6cdab04e5f714c77b9cf192b0743167e05
describe
'22821' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTA' 'sip-files00096.QC.jpg'
612d7dbd23a200c32375f0ac48dc1f7b
a08ceafdf399c3f17875deb48fbeccac81acf2c4
describe
'17626356' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTB' 'sip-files00096.tif'
ca67f2406fb0b79bec7fa3910e9e1051
ef275153c563c7fa45a28730b60b0a17de22e512
describe
'6161' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTC' 'sip-files00096thm.jpg'
55fafc4666dc1a28f6418fa64656229f
f160c2bb9ca9758c12c139e3f2d1a7577036da47
describe
'737191' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTD' 'sip-files00098.jp2'
cbdfb7036eed07d788ef9a5340e9dbc3
28ea32909a576d63c5e6a0f2ab8cb2562e675b06
describe
'108799' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTE' 'sip-files00098.jpg'
cfe9aada412f8a0486cb2de58519909d
56b4635cbba4245b62133ce232a4d26d1c8506bb
describe
'52021' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTF' 'sip-files00098.pro'
94b0c4aee2c62192214343e8a7863bbc
60edc7b43288cfa823dd10b11cc139a9da587a14
describe
'29210' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTG' 'sip-files00098.QC.jpg'
a189ae38841b4e1b2842ab7b48f5833b
f542afcd9ee68a9738defa7589c2e1d0fc4ab46b
describe
'5906564' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTH' 'sip-files00098.tif'
a55bb0a954606c91e690c8a7092e15e9
41e4c5db6dabb38fc6651f7b92f88f4bfaed3a9f
describe
'2131' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTI' 'sip-files00098.txt'
95aa684f60c65e45978f474be97f7518
ef5a51001a223c289fd93b5a68f78af0b6154231
describe
'6773' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTJ' 'sip-files00098thm.jpg'
06340c25d05c95fb394ae601d47f6966
f59a2c58a440449d944539a3bccd9a2f8280240a
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTK' 'sip-files00099.jp2'
86f7199d5a55e76e1a93f2c736f78b1e
d0f31b59495f793afd4caa2b1dec038a07bcb526
describe
'140622' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTL' 'sip-files00099.jpg'
df23bc0e23b433fa26b9929e9284988e
678d9bc4b7fe5d4a24438d24e9ce98db074b7b44
describe
'76886' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTM' 'sip-files00099.pro'
84c451b9cee7ca6051f5b39bf6b53031
8b0afa2ccd8f1b7ab5e21faa3a01cc8a9f83ab71
describe
'35655' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTN' 'sip-files00099.QC.jpg'
b5da27ee68461233e3ba53b5ca2f307b
427a5bd8eb97f085d1bfb52b13df26fc87e540be
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTO' 'sip-files00099.tif'
e7d10cefd330c467effc637765b41cdc
56fff875f02dd59c7b02eef62f234bdba2868403
describe
'3079' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTP' 'sip-files00099.txt'
2fc5f61f3e22783bde9cf386e5b6e662
4c66750c6ce326d14e284dafacce3b1589ecec96
'2011-12-07T02:37:53-05:00'
describe
'7922' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTQ' 'sip-files00099thm.jpg'
f5c49af0bd22c3c49bb1cd25c77825d2
929825b879ec58304285250947ec2d501ff2f150
describe
'737203' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTR' 'sip-files00100.jp2'
5f56d0afc617b7383ce8c15023093af3
43852146e870c4e95983f8197c15381ca7fe0386
describe
'127492' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTS' 'sip-files00100.jpg'
746350b14fe7c5186463cd76b3102f76
cdebd4c3a317f23644fcde50aeae09655c968bea
describe
'62109' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTT' 'sip-files00100.pro'
10928c0a481f7fd1184d075027779e24
76dfa57bb7497bee140b51c10533da3d53b74905
'2011-12-07T02:35:17-05:00'
describe
'32897' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTU' 'sip-files00100.QC.jpg'
7345f2b0ce2317f74f0a665d57df4afe
622d679caa53da0fefc35e7ca5c50b32a2395261
describe
'5906948' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTV' 'sip-files00100.tif'
2412ba5b753deefb1b576c0e1f648cb6
13dce704550fa4a9ba5e88423e1d98c96f5c6d82
describe
'2530' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTW' 'sip-files00100.txt'
77f957d0b3de9110ebe4dd8847a7c169
401737e9975a52aca726973c8bd6f67cbfbe6106
describe
'7593' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTX' 'sip-files00100thm.jpg'
1249c79788fb9aa7cbb38716f4a3dd1e
dd3676c10765156c3576452b2699972dd884b799
describe
'737170' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTY' 'sip-files00101.jp2'
4f246e3140bee7a367e9d286e1888bc5
294fe3cddb1a5fd993af3055442085b9c16dcd3b
'2011-12-07T02:36:31-05:00'
describe
'105988' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYTZ' 'sip-files00101.jpg'
78ebc4b54f037fbaa125c3bc94333a8d
e763dc772ea581a329379b747dd2820a22538ffb
describe
'50453' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUA' 'sip-files00101.pro'
50fd16f2d85a15e545badd12f604994d
8d16634c987a20d444d968f8c7125cff3a7c29a3
describe
'28116' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUB' 'sip-files00101.QC.jpg'
f45e63d8c51750e66a8b3b3893445172
e2c5cc15880646bebd41adb3c7028d7070865ea6
describe
'5906648' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUC' 'sip-files00101.tif'
a8a994417a9d580190e8d0ee33b25ea6
c32765219836b18ac06377e87907fa3b18611191
describe
'2622' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUD' 'sip-files00101.txt'
44500a4ae97625bac48a247e216d84a5
ac06fc36e40d7ddd4a86d1119ccbad3ecbb1cadf
describe
'6896' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUE' 'sip-files00101thm.jpg'
84dd28772a1d88c349cbfd629931caa0
2988eefeb89a71f8e16a045e282143d03069e9d2
describe
'737188' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUF' 'sip-files00102.jp2'
cb726e27dab7fe413b29ad56e8ae41a3
ea7afa5f29f7f0d7fb0b48a26ddff220ff687292
describe
'132537' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUG' 'sip-files00102.jpg'
fb081021b6bcc7a7fe03475c896ec9cb
61a9f233744bfdacdf1095b22828decdb6be8ec3
describe
'69643' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUH' 'sip-files00102.pro'
2bdda1f335831f92ad7ccbcb23cb15dc
65b6e2826cd10681ab17704d26152a6b4648184d
describe
'35281' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUI' 'sip-files00102.QC.jpg'
99d3943d8103ede359da9b40db4864d0
7d36740b10fd0202cb2d88af1d311b0382ef375a
describe
'5906976' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUJ' 'sip-files00102.tif'
db3bdaa34bbee0dc17325df15e0dc297
006d9d5821a156a53f926eca8afc4bc269e5975a
describe
'2789' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUK' 'sip-files00102.txt'
c329f05af98a77155cd59df51e354506
eb84e4ba9a1d4dd3cdb45c42087867ea5f27287c
describe
'7807' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUL' 'sip-files00102thm.jpg'
04cbf04a99631d00b45f62515e04d5b1
0610113008b3fe8b216d21d446d663f468d8f889
describe
'300190' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUM' 'sip-files00103.jp2'
8daa379ad42d2ebe2ac43d1d96406319
ebce28ebae171420aa950783ac7ac0f03e02e21f
describe
'31738' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUN' 'sip-files00103.jpg'
b47aceaa4d58d64328c08de977da1c89
3dd158f9e9eea503803ddf2057f4fe0aa92a8f82
describe
'13673' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUO' 'sip-files00103.pro'
a9997907ddca0b06dc02a7945884bd24
09bbc82a46ae7fd733152d0c18d4cbd992a3f137
describe
'9709' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUP' 'sip-files00103.QC.jpg'
101b591bec28cef1bb5ae269fb1f4bf8
f8b8d0d536d0d448228f731fed65977cac5de738
describe
'5904716' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUQ' 'sip-files00103.tif'
32256267937740257f89846f74749c26
0193fcf5b72d9c007c7de13854bbaf991343f2b0
describe
'550' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUR' 'sip-files00103.txt'
6fbb67630e3734dcc6604c7492a81e15
b1801b739c29a37495a313dd4599f074ffb18ce6
describe
'2461' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUS' 'sip-files00103thm.jpg'
a0e3cfa30c7065aad585d98ab1b60cd7
523d66434da57373c80edf9bc66d9519b10c41f2
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUT' 'sip-files00104.jp2'
690df539aef52504ba1f240fd3685d5f
74602bca19235ca74c2fa9014154e9f012be7773
describe
'93964' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUU' 'sip-files00104.jpg'
3856f7183de74ae87b5fba29d13243a4
abb54ab6dfc7bf14f7209e86442faee11c3a80c3
describe
'45479' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUV' 'sip-files00104.pro'
86c6b493add87595837bc7c743cd37b1
01f7be980d878b648ec72a6f256df1ccd0946397
describe
'24437' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUW' 'sip-files00104.QC.jpg'
67557922406c6a16d5ab602d3db7fd70
3d039612137f7b778c530361a7155739940406cd
describe
'5906328' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUX' 'sip-files00104.tif'
afec9b401db893ab5d36482381c3e162
3bff94875a96ab139f95b146e7d187ce69426ccd
describe
'2057' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUY' 'sip-files00104.txt'
a7e52589068b30aff8bfb483c0e392c8
a5ae3f1e884fa774ef6edf1980471be8e8e1ee80
describe
'5908' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYUZ' 'sip-files00104thm.jpg'
faf43d09ec224eb0b76753ec9721be29
3e32b867447263917a01a50bc4fa3a6d2a3cd7a3
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVA' 'sip-files00105.jp2'
1526bb94c8b19eb20bbcf1ed9ae99aa0
04480da620390fd602e62863441869995a44925b
describe
'131822' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVB' 'sip-files00105.jpg'
edfeab3cadf8bbdacb4a7034045c9173
ed1da1f73bc9e814fe6f8ec8ee2ce014f4eee81a
describe
'69718' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVC' 'sip-files00105.pro'
c9aecee118804751a5db43441a116d4d
007b2c145acd33bbe686a40363e48b20c959f31c
describe
'34724' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVD' 'sip-files00105.QC.jpg'
3623daf4f3f47069bf31f483d8aa07ac
6b5e52bec495fdd0106632c1fd7a6c1158174331
describe
'5906732' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVE' 'sip-files00105.tif'
d8d431b39b801ee53eced9518d5621f3
e4e42f00656d650de6e24bb980fe79d930c22313
describe
'2796' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVF' 'sip-files00105.txt'
3b6cd350e519c01a82f1e2692a76537f
bb541b04d3924b8214c1be942eead9de7e885309
describe
'7589' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVG' 'sip-files00105thm.jpg'
fc514d82058e40d83d29d2972b0b34e9
ee8a9d7895a199939447208f01757295d6f92913
describe
'737142' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVH' 'sip-files00106.jp2'
30bb1f6c4174e25fae5b38e42392a987
b490640e078965056a498e6c5268f0d9e4c52aa3
describe
'128073' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVI' 'sip-files00106.jpg'
d7e02284313e7fe04f2b6d8ad1702163
d9688dc20ebf44ce708372b68cb4908a11491306
describe
'66165' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVJ' 'sip-files00106.pro'
c04f9ca837f498afbf44ffafb925c0c6
856a4f63cf2683f1710dee520872ea4e6e5a8eb2
describe
'33704' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVK' 'sip-files00106.QC.jpg'
f1c9da09076af56988f8a6c4fa075a97
c2d961c6b58c18dc75a35ca1dcb87a50bd0ad7b5
describe
'5906888' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVL' 'sip-files00106.tif'
82a192b25617de16edee0bed9c82c35c
695180a6b2634062b318c8b34d6fd93727e31336
describe
'2637' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVM' 'sip-files00106.txt'
f6128ff317f77bf2db88ea4cd53818c2
40d3ab4b95517c9d6540df0a7b1878b947db04ea
describe
'7564' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVN' 'sip-files00106thm.jpg'
13745c3bd1eb1f8b77eb6363fbee709d
eaabf56b65092fb84296e7ea6851f821e1d6847b
'2011-12-07T02:36:04-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVO' 'sip-files00107.jp2'
a3b8c93f498a3ba8364f0f73f5815efa
04ee83ac73cf41f708f058b47b211e052f660d6f
describe
'130981' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVP' 'sip-files00107.jpg'
a3226ff23b517cfb1997620ff91a2f0d
86c87fb8fd00b470dea0cbb689bc1eac005375d2
describe
'68655' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVQ' 'sip-files00107.pro'
da533552ca78748bf02a92558fcf8b38
2cac489f5d4fe534a7339e0cf3534340d8bb4af6
describe
'34512' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVR' 'sip-files00107.QC.jpg'
94951987b1de29b74329e0186ce73292
478eb5804ee9da4389d512a20421786018d76eaa
describe
'5906676' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVS' 'sip-files00107.tif'
232224cee5a7962805664742b7e7a888
b020600fc90403e54e8bf1144021c41ada594b98
describe
'2734' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVT' 'sip-files00107.txt'
a47f8381be0721ce1f399e8dd3d922d8
bc340fa8a82a433a0b088c6dac00342027b7c9b8
describe
'7800' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVU' 'sip-files00107thm.jpg'
8497c4481f06b9ca287b5c7e5b1f8d6d
9004b155f5b107cca3b71bad941508e23ee68102
describe
'733472' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVV' 'sip-files00108.jp2'
9d354dc2a3503c21b48f217598ed6847
e010558f230d1622b76365d99e4791467447f8d1
describe
'99447' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVW' 'sip-files00108.jpg'
17734ce8062fb6932d6af3d6079a9d95
d57668341753585d827efaef00941ff651ba2b5a
describe
'23267' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVX' 'sip-files00108.QC.jpg'
7e963ba3835143395bb786d6683da9ef
325832c3db24d7b8f51d3607e6fcd1a6d3873d3b
describe
'17626936' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVY' 'sip-files00108.tif'
75922ee3ce77b29d9a1755ae8ba9f9e4
f92f3a4bd9efbaa95d67ccdf67a004f0c53178ab
'2011-12-07T02:35:05-05:00'
describe
'6509' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYVZ' 'sip-files00108thm.jpg'
452e6874bf138bd7070fe5df0794168b
69b2c4bece8fb9b2ece6b3b6719ab5b7fa082d38
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWA' 'sip-files00110.jp2'
978494ace04a4dc991374c29a30cafdf
a58522b7cc2ee0045e3efe00ae1a26a83733908b
describe
'100193' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWB' 'sip-files00110.jpg'
492016d684d20939803f7d2bca8a9719
be53da914333d1c2d235f0b5848f29172c2ca393
describe
'47151' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWC' 'sip-files00110.pro'
44f0286904f387b94cf0fbedfe068f2d
47594fc25290cde209c728cc48da20c497172e6c
describe
'26074' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWD' 'sip-files00110.QC.jpg'
e117f075b9d239c012109ceaab046441
5037bee239fa51998b186eff3fe92589a2a21b7d
describe
'5906332' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWE' 'sip-files00110.tif'
d9f44ed47e7a96205d75f31abc00ea2c
3aa8a05d71100f157b9592dc24d69519eae2d3d0
describe
'1877' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWF' 'sip-files00110.txt'
cff773d13c2c330afe295629932b627b
8c0b0f41b606a9d8b7442396f20ef669efaef9b9
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWG' 'sip-files00110thm.jpg'
3db2981d9871a8e7595f5d4422955c86
691dacdf7169bea29b8213e8a922bef0ae745e24
describe
'737175' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWH' 'sip-files00111.jp2'
012f949256217ac36673081ad67cca5d
ed2a212a59c20308da6f639c70a8bb3eac923aba
describe
'112828' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWI' 'sip-files00111.jpg'
c93ce9f80f66802f5386d8b6a29f6ec3
4d7cae28d5b37322e6d5b2fabff20a0d9efbb3ed
describe
'58093' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWJ' 'sip-files00111.pro'
548a58b502c168af0d7f85e502738053
24764bb0c0403cd7c504e10bab32f0f3a229590c
describe
'29279' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWK' 'sip-files00111.QC.jpg'
9c012c3289f59f1570de6f8640cbf220
8d7e9c9e652e261e40eccd62b93fedd1ca39f5b1
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWL' 'sip-files00111.tif'
47307c5fe9ee4e085750594d35d99551
5fac4c199599ec522f9d467a52b3068189a464da
describe
'2344' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWM' 'sip-files00111.txt'
f3bcc4cc909eb07104d91ff514ae7311
0b6805d8a308e6446929df49d502129983321ac7
describe
'6650' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWN' 'sip-files00111thm.jpg'
bd4be2c634c4035c68ddd7610165d19f
f94bccbb2824781cc9e07251476161ce61540ebb
describe
'751921' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWO' 'sip-files00112.jp2'
674131a9d98038dcf3645e93e2a08efe
a4811ee1d37b4d26265f726c5f68fe60e440cff1
describe
'83381' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWP' 'sip-files00112.jpg'
46d9253ec40610e2980178f46df5df72
f143539c43f9432321546216c1b9e43f168450f6
describe
'19390' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWQ' 'sip-files00112.QC.jpg'
1da0c2adb211a88b1c2133da031bab0a
2340b1e1273e05fb7c08c8730f4e350864559732
describe
'18075068' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWR' 'sip-files00112.tif'
4a1d47412aa3340cb7042b1599439688
01e95f4b94885b8a3aeee785e2a38ae21a40563e
describe
'5599' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWS' 'sip-files00112thm.jpg'
8674ee35b255a396c04da7ed3eb6152f
6c5c2487f414f79e21921be9f3f611bd7714ec71
describe
'737210' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWT' 'sip-files00116.jp2'
a7ded4d3a36eea1120a4cd0a221a69f7
393f2a66dfeba3561859ad2b2820d2bec3b73861
describe
'126162' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWU' 'sip-files00116.jpg'
cf6d757382e420184ec5e277a831ea87
073e3cd0b4260801bb07515a2b18a51aa4f4d6f4
describe
'62798' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWV' 'sip-files00116.pro'
319339d97e84169fac90450b80a0985e
5f589567788140ac0909257e8c51b9595f0277aa
describe
'33635' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWW' 'sip-files00116.QC.jpg'
75d21901361abcccb63016df485507d6
9ebd2a92134cb162e47cbffad15b498c7f5279f7
describe
'5906924' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWX' 'sip-files00116.tif'
3cb36d86f6a6c821ec981d2309f5fbe3
5a435a191a0147fb9c631e8263a6d8019d487154
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWY' 'sip-files00116.txt'
3add6d78961c3c87fe52b50b2b6649cb
215d83d3e31a7bd161a5dd9fe7dab5936048b46a
describe
'7664' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYWZ' 'sip-files00116thm.jpg'
008802d2e841d207aefb0f5523f3b3c1
a4c785710be876f1c17e3457dbbee5b502e7086f
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXA' 'sip-files00117.jp2'
641f902c79538deb2e5469cca9b3cf19
a746bead437224883a07681e34cb5f05fcce94bf
describe
'134297' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXB' 'sip-files00117.jpg'
3ba6be76b3410f8e502be143721b5c62
db8c5c2efb820d955e6210073f9196a617e36310
describe
'68374' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXC' 'sip-files00117.pro'
232a75a45dd8ba8f0e1d41e4203d9689
efbf9ca1594a003c8782e0d7f87be10276007132
describe
'34837' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXD' 'sip-files00117.QC.jpg'
e4adf0f251b451aeac06436940a92850
6c13ea2b19d31f07645f225fa2b07364eacfa7b4
describe
'5907048' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXE' 'sip-files00117.tif'
8e2bdc51917108dec6fe46f3552b1708
d03399ba4c8895c6ecc26949dc347f20bcf4ebfe
describe
'2857' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXF' 'sip-files00117.txt'
a0b7a7e45153e9666eab0fce9b0c07f9
61bae709758fbcf9b7d258146f785173c34dfc1c
describe
'7724' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXG' 'sip-files00117thm.jpg'
c042e77ba66ac40f72f196457f6811d5
fc6c0e0cbdfdab2b45609ba0df9025112706d5c5
describe
'737093' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXH' 'sip-files00118.jp2'
e3ce110e33d0be121049ff6a84ff9fc0
3814b5b8fc63e13ae5cb2847995bfb95fec6907b
describe
'136626' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXI' 'sip-files00118.jpg'
9c8ddea03688b423a029bb5e9219599c
a5f589534202d0eacc23902312c76606e67c9955
describe
'64046' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXJ' 'sip-files00118.pro'
cddd4b1677673746bf34d3bcd9ed2bf7
66c926c220d3c78f4ec5b26c0eda980ddad76242
describe
'35266' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXK' 'sip-files00118.QC.jpg'
058f03e968f998c3c404403fc13a8159
55f03f2a5d78fc51ede50ee746299e7270f529a5
describe
'5907116' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXL' 'sip-files00118.tif'
0df906c5a566fba1de6b889af39de9b2
77b1be60eabdf3c75b4adb82fb4b841090377c68
describe
'2532' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXM' 'sip-files00118.txt'
bb295e3855b5537692bcea8594f926c1
e92b9f6fc26df45dbc32dcfa2e24f4cc49b88337
describe
'8113' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXN' 'sip-files00118thm.jpg'
ac270e0d3ab9bcfe2f48def44242d782
a4413bda59563e8479cb6b67ed1b92d9f9202f26
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXO' 'sip-files00119.jp2'
ec51b37b03a46f50270c2a66ce59b98d
308781139db98480d1939385b227fe4aa209cd75
describe
'130539' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXP' 'sip-files00119.jpg'
847a1d5d986995315b94122e26dc4330
cdadf6e333b2387c511a0cd9bea4b5474f4b6197
describe
'68337' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXQ' 'sip-files00119.pro'
98705bf84f3e84326d04cec6ff921775
c79d8b0ee0d4cb0e8f65914191a02f9754794b74
describe
'34337' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXR' 'sip-files00119.QC.jpg'
d522c4ec0b15707d5e0ee1abd9bb108a
7f0636c1c66104e79b5312a71853871c565f0c4c
describe
'5906928' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXS' 'sip-files00119.tif'
f3c56388252fa83b1bc9704fa094c915
c26c01a82711611d2b963b4477d2b13e66ba6fbb
describe
'2687' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXT' 'sip-files00119.txt'
6721989ca666724b7b4dd58b1bfacf22
32e297ffcc1aba529f8d217735a7313c8f7d73f5
describe
'7963' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXU' 'sip-files00119thm.jpg'
6b3aac7999661f555024a381b8d33f73
c21586525387c0c57c830560abe89b354aa8ccc5
describe
'737202' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXV' 'sip-files00120.jp2'
cee23c12e0722c048b9839236007580c
6ae87c36e19c1c013162a9f714b123eef7ab4dd7
describe
'101175' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXW' 'sip-files00120.jpg'
e2c8a0759983dcd05531edc10828b70c
46a3acb4de26001a5f19ec04cea3e734e8a7dbf1
describe
'49826' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXX' 'sip-files00120.pro'
ebd37fd3caecb8669f74a6df996cf27a
0d853a6eab221b6e7a6493885fd1e95461ce322f
describe
'26276' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXY' 'sip-files00120.QC.jpg'
c0452b47d8458edcf22797317e50f009
6250d296742aedd9652c3f05ec42c75c008d6957
describe
'5906164' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYXZ' 'sip-files00120.tif'
1600ed99985b9857c92970336225f365
38ba5661f5c3b30aa628a37eeae043d7e9ce7d40
describe
'2080' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYA' 'sip-files00120.txt'
c22646b1804d3312f1b00d23006042e5
af4d4a96eb65c91a2a45c4db2a4b8e988ff7c2a4
describe
'6029' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYB' 'sip-files00120thm.jpg'
4eac82c525c4aeedcdd75aff44ef56b4
9acf5edce80c011d7fccff57036aa9640cef83a2
describe
'737131' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYC' 'sip-files00121.jp2'
10e73752a4dbb407ff109055b130ac5d
60048118863393584c8ca4410b28ada5be5c9bdd
describe
'105632' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYD' 'sip-files00121.jpg'
b0e9e73c916152f4e193b9ab4eb98a73
95bf3a6d6ae83d65b7f7dde6ef6997dd2a9c1008
describe
'53620' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYE' 'sip-files00121.pro'
c0fff5e2872ec989f2e25ea2cad3e0ab
98e4eb38944b1c917eb95b74db2f30cabb13b1b1
describe
'28110' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYF' 'sip-files00121.QC.jpg'
239c3bc65153cdbeb860471983c3da85
639cb0f106d6d7c2e7454262b6ebd1475c79a909
describe
'5906544' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYG' 'sip-files00121.tif'
36e4df8a8e8fc47c7ca66389d34aba85
92f3f4693a40b81ba6604cf2258851c513391177
describe
'2156' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYH' 'sip-files00121.txt'
96618f809d86d4b99b92e5815ee3c59a
2fbcb4e47f1298093a16c64420eff068e811f7cb
describe
'6463' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYI' 'sip-files00121thm.jpg'
f51065f03e76d549c6ac7278a4f30c2a
9ca98ddd59934581a29926f5175e223c8e723b6e
describe
'737144' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYJ' 'sip-files00122.jp2'
67e2794fd5688852146b17b89fdbf427
8b05fe624a57a5b5ce7a072df59a893ce1b4b70b
describe
'132585' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYK' 'sip-files00122.jpg'
b5c6a3fb683c9ab0bb029cd553af530f
f23374acffbb8a063684878998552e824cc38921
describe
'64314' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYL' 'sip-files00122.pro'
f31c01346114b9a56020893d214d52c4
d380eb03d47904df741bf26924f0e4bdb9e9af43
describe
'33462' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYM' 'sip-files00122.QC.jpg'
0f97e2174786afad4539630c38288a28
190c88aaa763071e2adcbd13b73f95aa0c8a8b6d
describe
'5906952' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYN' 'sip-files00122.tif'
3f560a44332244962912429c08eb9085
3b6900d4128cc946880790250fc28a7966b9ed44
describe
'2521' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYO' 'sip-files00122.txt'
5e526e896b4123fcb84fec1a0bb9f3e3
e71a78ed2dd9fe66be8a3a08978f99b1044175c4
describe
'7674' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYP' 'sip-files00122thm.jpg'
a7186f28192fa5612d4ed5f31df9286b
ca546b3bbe1943729404c5965ded6efc37d9f2f0
describe
'737149' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYQ' 'sip-files00123.jp2'
90d9c8b58c01bd829c177da132a2b8e7
c31cca7675b6a97c7cfef56960568e99ce9fce04
describe
'122302' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYR' 'sip-files00123.jpg'
226d6a5b05de324c4398febee8d7ddc5
7a6ee1c2f81348385af3e981ab7feb25b9cbc1fa
describe
'55249' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYS' 'sip-files00123.pro'
2b328260e996f857080e15910d61c9a7
c9ee1c02691185486c5137269896c00f987baa52
describe
'32461' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYT' 'sip-files00123.QC.jpg'
13ea57016d70d7831756916e66011f5e
41fcf2941959127ceeed898636053f0df97017b4
describe
'5906860' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYU' 'sip-files00123.tif'
7f91d00d130a2235fefc6a95fc3d34ff
18ae4aa26e1527c3aabcc48445ba9ab5b1268ff6
describe
'2743' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYV' 'sip-files00123.txt'
ddad5175f3c5966b1f07fdf7ae9bdadd
3ede5624c90d4a84a4502d98b2edb44594f9fc27
describe
'7443' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYW' 'sip-files00123thm.jpg'
bdfdc3bf1f2929a73ebf5356684c362f
120a0a919674d1a9277c8611a6891f362f8be9a0
describe
'738129' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYX' 'sip-files00124.jp2'
c383b395c2bb020c9f40647a79d4842c
30dcab7e65a101e6cfdb6f41be3a2239e55528fb
describe
'102196' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYY' 'sip-files00124.jpg'
41588abc94f7a7923b58eb40e531e7d4
e5b108d023c5ba19c93e757f62ea92593d419c6c
'2011-12-07T02:35:16-05:00'
describe
'23504' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYYZ' 'sip-files00124.QC.jpg'
0854fd383d66ed1570403ef3d8d71e7a
adcf7ddb0340942fa1a91eb622fb62322cce2ec4
describe
'17738236' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZA' 'sip-files00124.tif'
51517fee6752386502f668477e16b78d
b0e959fe99cd91d5c8e42fba5f1a460ea8e69a54
'2011-12-07T02:36:53-05:00'
describe
'6516' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZB' 'sip-files00124thm.jpg'
82c2c29ff331dad3c2b1b0018384b100
ce85e93b505c3a6865e7c2dcc8150ff461284fa2
describe
'737198' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZC' 'sip-files00126.jp2'
1f52f6ee7d2dea4560797484b9e76faf
b033810e4239a8c8a2a2d4d4db78cdb2bcd406ce
describe
'133519' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZD' 'sip-files00126.jpg'
cf87c57c707eb5541c30e9275908524a
c2f62971f65d33b6a99307262e39cc3c54bb1753
describe
'62064' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZE' 'sip-files00126.pro'
bc4489e0b6d05fba5fc65664e183a73f
0e94682a3e5e3d51d1449effc75d8e0a6a20eccc
describe
'35541' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZF' 'sip-files00126.QC.jpg'
9a96c8e5a04935e8d7d85419224856aa
c8a647c5cc500990aaeef4d522467c29834afe6b
describe
'5907204' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZG' 'sip-files00126.tif'
82bcc2f9b39724374ffb9a96d6d46c6c
2d7d359d0101429f6f2a368509cbffc8d500d128
describe
'2446' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZH' 'sip-files00126.txt'
511c8c8086e6320095b8b786de08f85c
ab08ba1273cd9a887492bce5b4bdafb80a1db664
describe
'8029' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZI' 'sip-files00126thm.jpg'
cfd8304763155a5dba3964f49b544054
137301735fff7772fc278ad82d6ecbd4c5111f9a
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZJ' 'sip-files00127.jp2'
c8eed6b434fffefa0e20e80ff589afff
b749f57ceecbf071bb45d0c8261e5387edbc6969
describe
'112185' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZK' 'sip-files00127.jpg'
a74258b6da0bf1aa0b1530ad91eedce0
7350bcadc9fdc579b97ba4a5f792f516bfde1f48
describe
'53083' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZL' 'sip-files00127.pro'
cf6f4dd383f27ba8dca5345207419d88
048a249f1fde8508ae0561d982844b3006f556f3
describe
'28689' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZM' 'sip-files00127.QC.jpg'
aee47fd995ffc1f3cca8c20dd449ace1
59dec64204ec09d6e50a8f6d79d4d53ea14a8030
describe
'5906512' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZN' 'sip-files00127.tif'
2aad909c946b6c697f616a634b23787d
cc42d52844224bd0a1202fcf7fadaaba6e3ef45b
describe
'2502' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZO' 'sip-files00127.txt'
18cd46dd24dd633d6f8b3f48716d8788
70f1f2d20555d73f59c01edfedb61977afb98a03
describe
'6761' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZP' 'sip-files00127thm.jpg'
c117eb7dbfb4d967ea6a9becfd830212
f76d36c2f27080164ca482d658aa9f74276de710
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZQ' 'sip-files00128.jp2'
e115313d171baef762294cc8c1efd920
b16ef863558c4a68ed28c636fc692cd3410c3527
describe
'107057' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZR' 'sip-files00128.jpg'
78c5a85320d137c1bbda292a1f82eab0
e2da3a4f1d94e41b1ebf7afc960d04b77402a2cc
describe
'53071' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZS' 'sip-files00128.pro'
baa8f4b3257b6b2451d45e80633838cf
7fcca21df565425e208500eaba3a2d6028bbbfe0
describe
'28445' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZT' 'sip-files00128.QC.jpg'
a650f779d178e17e8fd180bdc0c90ebc
1be1b10a936d7065e2e9df5ba37be39ca2c1036a
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZU' 'sip-files00128.tif'
73c1442fc728d37f8730e68463386464
46064ccdc646c7fca03160884caa9d3148bc2143
describe
'2147' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZV' 'sip-files00128.txt'
156656b86beb8eae584087a42bfb5c38
75eb064ee04ba39e898a72bfd5f52ba7339d789b
describe
'6633' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZW' 'sip-files00128thm.jpg'
9af730c4b971b3672006a9e322b1a5f1
557b43493bd2c523d3a679d060c9b98e93358e80
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZX' 'sip-files00129.jp2'
628b21d8ed4072a6447e10249cb47244
b7d6d050f8bd641c8af3404711367d0ee25cf8e0
describe
'130102' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZY' 'sip-files00129.jpg'
1f158836209951da9bf1bad2fb2aff4d
22a3e330dc0bc5d93fb4956d9a3a5513d91a74d9
describe
'60015' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAYZZ' 'sip-files00129.pro'
57bdd4bf3b1716a10c85bb069a068208
1e16938d388b020aaed31ec11b56da6e8488bf00
describe
'33360' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAA' 'sip-files00129.QC.jpg'
f0a9d6e7613f723fa69b6797b75e2fd2
6caee694a7a26852f518abc4fcb60fd54e84e780
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAB' 'sip-files00129.tif'
41b77030a01fc305a6e8a209bcc761ad
e38fc70a7616ddec914ecf30a1d8860dd0cd25ac
describe
'2862' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAC' 'sip-files00129.txt'
2a468dbd87a64d04d1906bb7cec77e61
8dee77cfb71f86cac52a8b8b163f02c0b8a17791
describe
'7861' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAD' 'sip-files00129thm.jpg'
0981a23e79d678af52c8bff44ae36509
b5c757ad4bc6d1a457e0d638abb25c244824d76e
describe
'737169' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAE' 'sip-files00130.jp2'
4acfe9dff3127f6d51089f30f6a0ff1d
d0e29f549b4553055fae3616893a353ed093ee88
describe
'128167' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAF' 'sip-files00130.jpg'
455ce6825e568f726dfc8ba5c33465c9
1816f447e387d34fcc967ab6b1e161239215ed9f
describe
'57163' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAG' 'sip-files00130.pro'
5b5c9a2d7dad25d2fa42d492681dfe02
3be49d9a300cacc8d9307d5e48d0072b08f7147f
describe
'33574' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAH' 'sip-files00130.QC.jpg'
24e9f37fcf242a32ae5ec77a57255fc8
ae2145049c4f3a0e90f88e83e4e31bf289ba3c5f
describe
'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAI' 'sip-files00130.tif'
860662cd0cada9da596366e327a18a19
cff5415ea86412b693d7ac61c4098a38e06fde5e
describe
'2541' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAJ' 'sip-files00130.txt'
818d5c1620684b3c6bc6d77a2e5c7002
97ffc446f2b7ee521c2cc994a8b6077629264384
describe
'7697' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAK' 'sip-files00130thm.jpg'
2b5233aaaf93985d8c6f4c2753a68ee4
c90560715b6240017255ccbca3e0e7042b686cf2
describe
'737151' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAL' 'sip-files00131.jp2'
becf11fecc211f4945034b2875a7a2c3
28ff697d8ef3765b71ee6cfe7470155913cd8cf7
describe
'110550' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAM' 'sip-files00131.jpg'
d340f6c88e08ae2e23c08d09b30c344b
2c14869a4726be67d5a5c2b1a80d66e37409b7dd
describe
'55266' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAN' 'sip-files00131.pro'
afb35974d8db483c821320a70cbf2ef0
76b2d5cfa62d6dd3f75c553c9a69f942b05c2987
describe
'28455' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAO' 'sip-files00131.QC.jpg'
85e75620e127ca93c318731f6dfe5ebe
f6f4466ddc251e8381ef45dd5402d06e1b34d074
describe
'5906468' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAP' 'sip-files00131.tif'
ecaed49075929e7c5e9b899c0459a5b7
3ae1e7ca877bc7eced45aefd1dfa4a915dc2bdbc
describe
'2149' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAQ' 'sip-files00131.txt'
c4ed42f76c72a7cd333680657d9e1340
f6b5be6c13f46dfa66f1280bcbe5b18b218e4b45
describe
'6605' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAR' 'sip-files00131thm.jpg'
b9e82a45be9cc72593c81f6e1787d7b8
151e82295bf01875af50d5fbadab78e5aeb96566
describe
'757373' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAS' 'sip-files00132.jp2'
0e64bb816f2bb492bc455884fe683ed7
c905520d8095ee1f8395c200822570c9d75458fe
describe
'86023' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAT' 'sip-files00132.jpg'
b06394a1a564bfc85e65aa255f13a41c
f49eedf5d1617bdd3803a21b330806f5db4a6077
describe
'19327' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAU' 'sip-files00132.QC.jpg'
91eef7214b8b847ed4ab8d56f4397628
ffc290064377780284293346e2f5a081d4ca7e03
describe
'18198296' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAV' 'sip-files00132.tif'
79525dbf1d4d5d67a2cf22e8968198c5
fc744b4fda6e2db1b00644bee097c42b11070eb2
describe
'5413' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAW' 'sip-files00132thm.jpg'
d18c8f9ba419840e62e66c2539ef8b2a
159b9ffd72ca0a74ccd013acb2934ec5a5a2e399
describe
'32210' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAX' 'sip-files00134.jp2'
dc0113c8b7a5568dea81cac3186ec3e2
a493e03e0218985f307d2a2ba522178c8c2f75a5
describe
'7984' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAY' 'sip-files00134.jpg'
6de3fe020f12ae25dba53071475989c5
7f03c30493115051d4ded1e8355895d22202fc21
describe
'1332' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZAZ' 'sip-files00134.pro'
a4614dcc988b8574ef9ce0664df20696
38881d35b06cfeaa62155205a3c69c9e7271f037
describe
'2398' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBA' 'sip-files00134.QC.jpg'
5f0083e8ecc6495b59e2be9c4e1b5851
f96b6aaff8618f6d7dd79f7b67acaf196ba632b1
describe
'5901228' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBB' 'sip-files00134.tif'
545d1a481ac93742d4ef1b21d754a8c0
6f2b4eb85c81b73e353f25e6762a7129078a68c2
describe
'168' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBC' 'sip-files00134.txt'
c6f5d4838a9ccfcb74a20c15771244ff
1cf3a6311b6776d9cd289d72565ff177b5df0e5f
describe
'855' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBD' 'sip-files00134thm.jpg'
c5d4b607f12363fbe5808b34f79397c4
b72a6525a7373bfa23c7ac759af5d175232115de
describe
'769624' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBE' 'sip-files00137.jp2'
d54152df9efd862e224778bb30d4b9db
48531f97501276f90e5ff9c3a64d28a27ca3131f
describe
'137960' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBF' 'sip-files00137.jpg'
4316985dd437ea8cd3a0d84051265e26
dc6481a4bf20bdfafc98d5ee1a491351d1926f33
describe
'27422' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBG' 'sip-files00137.QC.jpg'
42abccb5dfa230bcdead3f99a18f2f4e
5aa9d92614854f52366698ece9ce0bfcdf83b7b4
describe
'18476816' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBH' 'sip-files00137.tif'
95e2f94261e264f54972fe62a221a52d
9e70313500241565bf080b431fe69aa94c0bbb0f
describe
'5355' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBI' 'sip-files00137thm.jpg'
daaebd1e4ecefe6c17b925c87f5d044a
f5b61ff3cd6b75be89bcd8ef96633b90d1e9a8ab
describe
'863842' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBJ' 'sip-files00138.jp2'
a523de298c2928b292554775610ed75f
6e852f47e0f1035a925443ca65fcb86cd548544f
describe
'148244' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBK' 'sip-files00138.jpg'
c70fe8724206da63df08eddd9300a897
e8b32a5e01131b76e9d5eac2fab62bc2101697f1
describe
'30047' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBL' 'sip-files00138.QC.jpg'
afdcfee52bb76b78dab831ad1440ee49
887702e6275058780f38729bd709644a74dd462e
describe
'20739728' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBM' 'sip-files00138.tif'
5cae2c8f140efdfbcd1aac6ca1722ec3
480ba6d7baf9c66070a450f2aa1ca999acbb375f
describe
'6072' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBN' 'sip-files00138thm.jpg'
7c5433adaa6a69bd4a214939f8fdc2c9
0296dc8d0665d6e929ab3613f81f5be757f804d3
describe
'907719' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBO' 'sip-files00139.jp2'
7daac2c0086c05cc09e589dd8c282966
df76aabb24fc476bf6eba775627288e630932419
describe
'83718' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBP' 'sip-files00139.jpg'
60eda6fecf46fe9f048395af36ed6f2d
2a1e28f4e42db08764443c69e85a805b988f80e3
describe
'17394' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBQ' 'sip-files00139.QC.jpg'
48bf1e0ef966b998eeeefc25676c5fda
a06e9299c194c2374efd21099445aa508622fe3d
describe
'21791848' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBR' 'sip-files00139.tif'
c159be9be3e4c87d0f74ef2b9d4a6ffb
54fb019a47446ee632533aec278b12b1a33cc4e1
'2011-12-07T02:34:52-05:00'
describe
'4052' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBS' 'sip-files00139thm.jpg'
c44c468e831fb93e335eeed24972ec4f
fc4a06d90b42ae48b1759c17ecb13bed5fd8f694
describe
'184' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBT' 'sip-filesprocessing.instr'
47d55b34b4706c4c18860e45d132e9ee
321891d471691a89feb7f2e285d9b98e90b3da32
'2011-12-07T02:34:33-05:00'
describe
'185681' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBU' 'sip-filesUF00081107_00001.mets'
5cb9bc61e9be1d1ef00a62b0821c4bbd
94c6a3dc7b1649e088a95b07f4ee5217e700ff40
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/'.
'2013-12-18T19:14:20-05:00' '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/'.
'242100' 'info:fdaE20080503_AAAAZQfileF20080504_AAAZBX' 'sip-filesUF00081107_00001.xml'
307c9b83651cf1092cff672fe8b58bf9
282405232f635b70d1a834ff13658a8c97cca6c2
describe
'2013-12-18T19:14:22-05:00'
xml resolution