Citation
Tales for all seasons

Material Information

Title:
Tales for all seasons by Fanny Forester, (Mrs. E.C. Judson)
Creator:
Judson, Emily C ( Emily Chubbuck ), 1817-1854
Nelson, Thomas, 1822-1892 ( Publisher )
Place of Publication:
London ;
Edinburgh
Publisher:
Thomas Nelson
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
222 p., <1> leaf of plates : col. ill. ; 17 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Short stories, English ( lcsh )
Young women -- Conduct of life -- Fiction ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Fiction ( lcsh )
Embossed cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1851 ( rbbin )
Bldn -- 1851
Genre:
Embossed cloth bindings (Binding) ( rbbin )
novel ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
England -- London
Scotland -- Edinburgh

Notes

General Note:
Short stories.
Funding:
Brittle Books Program

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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:
026771612 ( ALEPH )
45625126 ( OCLC )
ALH0167 ( NOTIS )

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°

Cales for all Seasons.

_BY

FANNY FORESTER,

(MRS. E. C. JUDSON.)

All seasons have their voices; joyous then

When Spring is vocal with the amorous birds, |
And Summer too, when flowers are in the full;

When Autumn gives the treasures they had told;

While round the Winter’s hearth, the sum of all |
Fills the long evening with remembered joys.

; ‘>

LONDON:
THOMAS NELSON PATERNOSTER ROW;
AND EDINBURGH.



MDCCCLI,













soba
aogn
ie -





CONTENTS,

Willard Lawson—
Chap. I. Leaving Home,. . . .« . « oe “Se 1
— eee 8 OS ee ee es ae a eee ° 22
-« III, The Orator, © ee ee oe. ee oe
The French Emigrants, .. . . . . 2. A 38
See Ange Pigtmage, © ok pea we oe eee ae
Lilias Fane, OO! ee a ee a ek 74
The Unuseful, oS eRe ee oe ee Be a
nn oe a Ek ce a ee es: eS Ss ee ee
BorntowearaQoronet, . . . . , , ee ee eee a
NE hi i ee | a o> @ © esta
Two Nights in the “ Nieuw ee 6k fk SS Se ee eee
Lucy Dutton, . 8 eee ee ee ee ee a ee
Mystery, i OA a aes a ee ga
The Priest’s Soliloquy (an Extract), . . . (+ €. 2 =a cee
SE ee ig i ge “ee
My First Grief (an Extract), je Se a ee a ee ee
The Mignionette (a Fable), * ©. 6 6 €:* 6 & 4 ee
Ministering Angels, J en ee a a ee Pe
The Raina Thought-maker, . . . . , . ©¢ © » * ene
Genius, es ‘2.5 4. ce * e 217







TALES FOR ALL SEASONS.

BY

FANNY FORESTER,



WILLARD LAWSON.

CHAPTER I.—LEAVING HOME,

‘¢ You will be sorry for it, Willard.”

‘‘ Sorry! I tell you, Sophy, I have been in leading
strings long enough; and I will go where I can, now
and then, do as I choose!”

‘* You will be back in less than three days.

*‘ No, not in less than three years. Come, tell’ me
what I shall bring you from over the seas; they have all
sorts of gimcracks in the Indies, and maybe I shall go
to China, or—”

‘* Or take a peep into Symm’s hole, or a ride on the
roc’s back. Bring me a pair of slippers from Lilliput.”

‘I will bring you a pair so small that you cannot
wear them, if that is what you like; and a rare India
shawl, to beat cousin Meg’s.”



10 WILLARD LAWSON,

‘‘ T hope you will get your purse well replenished; I
daresay you will find them in N. "
? ”?

‘¢ Don’t speak so contemptuously of our mammoth
city, Will; there will be a little fading out of those hand-
some curls, I dare say, before you will see a larger.”

‘I tell you, Sophy, I am going to sea. What part
of the world I may visit, -I don’t know; but it will be
many a long year before you will see me again.”

‘© Nonsense, Will, think of scrambling up ropes and
perching in the air like a monkey! You have always
had a taste that way, I know, but try it in a gale, and



é6



you would soon come to the conclusion that you had a
little too much of it. Come, this freak of yours is all
nonsense; be obedient, and father will be kind to you,

9



but you know it was wrong for you to go

‘¢ T know it was not wrong, Sophy, and I am glad I
went. I should like to know what right anybody has to
hinder me from speaking to a school-fellow now and then,
or even from shaking my toe in a dance, if I choose.
Wondrous good some people are, indeed! I wish they
would tell me how much worse dancing is than anger ;
and did n’t you see how pale he turned? James turned
pale too, for I believe he thought I would get knocked

own. I almost wish he had done it.”

“¢ Willard !”

‘‘ He drives me to it, Sophy.”

‘‘ Tf you go away with these bad feelings, I am afraid
you never will come back again.”

‘© Maybe—but—-yes, I shall—of course I shall. I



WILLARD LAWSON. 11

shall want to see you, and—and all. Oh, I shall come
back sometime.”

‘¢ T am afraid not, Willard.”

The observation seemed to induce a new train of
thought, for the boy’s excited countenance assumed an
unusual soberness ; a tear crept to his eye and twinkled
on the upraised lash, but he brushed it hastily away, and
with a ‘‘ never fear for that, Sophy,” sprang to the door,
as though afraid to trust his voice with another word.
The sister waited awhile for his return, thinking that he
would at least bid her a good night ; but when she per-
ceived that he was not coming, she began to persuade
herself that he was ashamed of his folly, and would be in
better temper in the morning, or that her father would
abate some of his sternness; at any rate, somehow, the
difficulty would be settled, as others had been before ; and
so she went to sleep. ‘These troubles were nothing
new to her. Mr Lawson was a noble-minded, upright
man, who exercised a kind of patriarchal sway, not only
in his family, but over the whole neighbourhood. He
was a good father and a kind neighbour in the main, but
stern and self-willed; all suavity and gentleness when
obeyed, but woe to the luckless one who dared to oppose
his plans or wishes! To such, if the truth must be owned,
Mr Lawson was a tyrant. He had managed, how-
ever, without unpleasant bickerings, to bring up his fa-
mily in the strictest integrity; and they were now about
him, doing honour to his gray hairs. They had yielded
to him; he had led them wisely, and now they honoured
him with all their hearts, Sons and sons-in-law looked
up to him with reverence; all but a bold, daring boy,



12 | WILLARD LAWSON.

j

his youngest child, the handsomest and the bravest, but,
alas! so full of faults! Willard had ;talénts, but he did
not like the trouble of cultivating them; like many an-
other, he was so well satisfied with*hisnatural acuteness,
that he could see no necessity for bestowing labour oni
the mental soil. Mistaken Willard! - Mistaken thou-
sands! He was spirited as a young colt that spurns the
bit, and grew restive under his father’s control before he
had reached a dozen of summers. Now he had grown
into a tall stripling, and considered himself very nearly
a man, and was he to be led about likea baby? I think
—I do not know—but I really think that if Mr Law-
son had not been quite so authoritative and unbending,
his son Willard would have been more manageable ; but
yet I must admit that he never required anything of
him which was not right.. Then Willard was frank and
joyous, with a heart full of generous sentiments and brim-
ming over with sympathy and kindness; and it must be
owned that there was something which shut down over
his spirit like a lid whenever he entered his father’s house.
He had felt it when a little boy playing in the sunshine
on the lawn; and used to think, when called in at even-
ing, of the atmosphere of a damp, dark cellar in the
spring-time; but the uncomfortable feeling had increased

as he grew older, and now Willard Lawson did not love

his home. It was a rare good place for his intellect, but

there was no room there for his heart to expand. All

were kind—his sister Sophia especially so, but it was a

kindness which was always smooth, and even, and cold;

no bubbling, no sudden gushes, like the spring which

lures the travel-stained wanderer from the way-side, or

*

<



>.
im i,
“*

VILLARD LAWSON 18










; ,
y fountain leapingup at the kiss of the br and
@ glance of the oe ; but a quiet, calm, lifeless

sort, df kindness, that seemed to lack that universal in-
sp re fion—love. Sohe went away from home for society,
not, aways selecting the best, for how could the boy
know

“how to choose rightly? He found more sympathy
without doors than within; and so Willard Lawson,
7 young as he was, had set both feet resolutely in a most
. dangerous path, Beware, Willard! Nay, but he will
not beware; he has ‘been in leading strings long
enough,” and he has resolved on emancipation.

How much Willard Lawson slept that night I will not
attempt to say; how many misgivings visited his heart in
the lone darkness, or how much dearer his home became
as he thought upon the words of his sister,—“ If you
leave us with these bad feelings, I am afraid you never
will come back again.” The thoughts and emotions
were his own, his own to brood over, his own to bury ;
forget he probably never would. Morning dawned at
last, and by the first faint glimmer Willard rose and
dressed himself. He then walked about the little room,
as though taking a farewell of every article of furniture,
and looked from the window, and walked again, till a
tear, actually a big round tear, rolled from his eyes like
a red-hot bullet, and dropped upon his hand. He was
alone now, and so it was no shame to weep ; and Willard
did not even put a hand to his eyes while the liquid sor-
row rained down over his cheeks in torrents. Poor boy |
It is a pitiful thing to forsake the roof which sheltered

us in our helplessness ; where the only real love the wide,” 27.5
earth knows beamed on our infant eyes; where tender- @





14 WILLARD LAWSON,

ness and purity and truth bud and blossom in the sun-
shine of kindness and the dew of innocence; the dear
hallowed hearth-stone, circled round with sacred affections,
—pitiful to leave it, and for what? Thank God for the
gilded veil behind which the Protean future is allowed
to conceal her features! Who would look into the
book of fate and read at a glance his own destiny?
Willard Lawson had no very bright hopes this morn-
ing ; for the false star glittering but yesterday before his
eyes, had set in darkness, been extinguished in tears. He
had laughed and sported in that room ; he had slept there
while angels guarded him; he had lisped his first prayers
there, and there too had he almost forgotten the duty.
He was still but a boy, and yet he was very much changed ;
and he thought upon this change with sadness. What an
innocent little fellow he was when he went to sleep hug-
ging his first top to his bosom, and thinking what a dear
good papa his was to bring such an invaluable present
from the town! And how often, in his childish reverence,
had he thought of that same father, and wondered if his
heavenly Father could be any better or any wiser! And
how disobedient he had been of late, and self-willed, and
disrespectful; in actions rather than words, and in thoughts
more than either. Dost thou relent, Willard? Is there
“not a softening in thy heart? Are not thy lips moving to
the words, ‘‘ I will arise and go unto my father?” Ah!
stay thee, rash youth! Gently, gently! There is a balm
in penitential tears! I already see the rainbow arching
thy heart. It is a precious moment, Willard; beware!
Nay, all is lost! That movement below, followed by the
whistle of Bluff Bill, the man-of-all-work, has sent other



WILLARD LAWSON. 15

thoughts into the head of the stripling, and the scale is
turned. The tears are brushed away, and in quiet, but
hurriedly, the room is left without a tenant,

Willard stood in the yard, beneath the dear old trees
where he had sported in childhood. The large, long-
limbed butter-nut had never seemed so beautiful as now,
since the day when, an urchin in petticoats, he had
scrambled up its jagged trunk to get a peep into the
snug little home of Madam Redbreast, and came down
again amid huzzas and chidings ; and as for the elm trees,
he had pruned them himself many a time, and he had
watched them year after year, till he knew the position
of every graceful branch against the sky, as he knew the
places of the children at his father’s table. There was a
locust precisely his own age, and the circumstance had
been so often mentioned, that he felt as though somehow
that tree belonged to him—was linked to his life—was
a part of himself, which he ought to carry away, or rather
which he ought to stay and cherish. He cast a glance
around to see that no one was near; and then he threw
his arms about the dear old tree, and pressed his lips to
the rough, dew-spangled bark, as though it had been a
living object of love. ‘This done, he looked back upon
the house hurriedly, and passed on. In the stable stood
gay Larry, the fine young saddle-horse, which turned at
the sound of his voice, and laid his finely arched neck over
his shoulder, with all the affection of a child ; and he
patted the animal and passed his hand over his smooth
glossy skin, and then buried his face in the flowing mane
and wept unrestrainedly, Poor Willard! Larry was an
old playmate, and that Larry loved him wag clear, for to

ere ab
See Se



16 WILLARD LAWSON.

no other one was he so gentle and obedient. Oh, if
Larry could but go with him! Our hearts warm toward
thee, dear Willard, more than they did a half-hour since,

when the careless whistle of Bill awakened thee to all thy
stubbornness ; for there is that in thy spirit which the
angels know to be priceless. ‘Thou art even as mettle-
some as thy pet Larry; but thou art good and noble, too,
for thou lovest the poor dumb animals which look up to
thee for care and protection, even as thou shouldst look
to heaven. Mayst thou never lose the manly softness,
young Willard! The lad found as he passed on that he
had bestowed more love on Lawson farm than he had
imagined. ‘The cows—one in particular, which had al-

ways been called his—looked into his face with a kind of
pleading mournfulness—a sad, beseeching expression,
+hat seemed to him made up of love and censure; and
vaen they came lowing after him, as though they would
yet entreat his return, Even the fowls gathered about
his feet familiarly, and raised a chorus of sounds which it
was not difficult for him to interpret. ‘ Sir Chaunticlere”
shook his long parti-coloured plumes ominously, and sent
out a shrill, high-ringing warning; the hens, cackling,
flocked before him, like a swarm of butterflies in August ;
and a dove flew from its perch to his shoulder, and then
nestled in his bosom, looking up to him, with its warm,
melting eyes swimming in love as his were in tears. There
is yet time to retract, Willard. ‘Take back those dan-
gerous steps, and no one will know they have been
trodden. No, this is not among things possible to the
boy. The parting is taking the very life from the inner-
most core of his heart, tearing away the threads which



WILLARD LAWSON. 17

invisible fingers have been braiding within, ever since his
baby foot tottered on the threshold of being: but who
ever suspected Willard Lawson of wavering or fickleness ?
Why, we might as soon expect his father himself to change
his mind and reverse a decision! Willard, boy as he is,
will never hesitate and falter after he has resolved; but
it is no part of his philosophy to dispense with feeling.
Perhaps—I am not sure how strong the sense of right may
be in his bosom—but, perhaps, if he were thoroughly con-
vinced that he was taking a wrong step, one which he
would regret in all after life, he might yet be induced to
go back and nestle again, more lovingly than.ever, among
the dear old associations which are clustering around him,
striving to entangle for good his erring feet. But Willard
with his bold, free spirit swelling in his bosom, will never
stay with Larry and the other dumb things that love him,
at what his boyish inexperience deems a sacrifice of his
yet unbearded manliness.

Willard passed from the barn-yard without venturing
to look upon the garden patch, for he had had chiding
enough without listening to the gentle murmurs of the
green things that the morning breeze was dallying with ;
and leaping the stile, he took his way across a rich field
of clover, which the little spirits of the night and the
messenger sun-rays had decked out in matchless diadems.
Sometimes a little sheet of gossamer, fastened to shafts of
emerald, gleamed with all the colours of the rainbow, here
and there breaking from its fastenings, as highly gifted
spirits sometimes sink beneath the weight of their own
wealth. Spires of grass bent beneath clusters of the same
jewels; and the fragrant clover-heads and nodding but-

B



18 WILLARD LAWSON.

ter-cups flashed and sparkled like the coronct of a duch-
ess. Birds, sweet, glad little creatures, with wings and
voices but too familiar, carolled from the tree-tops, or
wheeled and careered in mid-air, mad with exultant hap
piness, (blessed spirits of the air!) and the bee, in his
glossy black coat, with more gold than even a gay cour-
tier of the olden time would have cared to deck his man
tue with, sped beneath the soft clouds like an arrow, and
plunged headlong among the luxuriant sweets of the fra-
grant clover blossoms. How all these glad things con-
trasted with the heavy spirit of the young wanderer! A
stream went dancing and bubbling by, right merrily ; and
close beside the rustic bridge was a deep place, where he
had.angled for trout for many a summer. Willard glanced
at itdnd seemed inclined to stop, then passed on—re-
turned again, and kneeling down, bent his head far over
and peered earnestly down into the water. A fin swept
by, with a thin layer of silver over it; and he caught a
glimpse of a mottled back, crimson and amber, and a
pale, soft azure in a setting of gray. Another followed,
and then came a troop of little silver things, hurrying
after each other, as though on their way to a fairy wed-
ding, scarce rippling the water as they went. _ Willard
caught by a branch of the birch tree that grew there
when he first opened his eyes on the landscape, and swung
himself to the bank. His seat wagas soft as the richest
carpet, woven of glossy brown and gold; and as he again
bent over the stream, he scooped up handfuls of the cold
water and dashed them over his burning face, jewelling
his wavy hair and the luxurious bank together. Along
the borders of the stream grew clumps of willows, their



WILLARD LAWSON. 19

narrow leaves trembling on the breath of the morning,
and now and then a wild elm, shagged with green away
down to the earth, or a round-topped maple, or a silver-
coated beech ; and at their roots sprang troops of flow-
ers, bending their blue and crimson cups to the water,
while in the spots of light breaking through their branches
swarmed clans of bright-hued insects, dipping their gay
wings in the liquid gold of morning, and warming their
bloodless limbs at the heart of nature. It was beautiful,
and Willard had often thought so; but now his heart
yearned toward the familiar scene, and he would have
taken the whole to his bosom and folded his arms about
it, as tenderly as a mother clasps the child she dotes upon.
Again the tears rushed to his eyes, and again he dashed
the cool water upon his face; and, without turning for
another glance, hurried on. ‘The sheep were speckling
the green of the neighbouring pastures, and the horses
were bounding and tossing their manes in play, or quietly
cropping the grass at their feet ; but Willard had grown
wiser, and did not trust himself among them. He sprang
over the fence and proceeded resolutely along the road-
side. But his trials were not yet over. With a cry of
joy, that seemed almost human, a dog rushed over the
banks among the thorny bushes, scattering down a shower
of rain-drops, bounded over the fence, and leaped, qui-
vering all over with, gladness, to the shoulders of his
young master.

“Good dog! good Rover!” exclaimed the boy, in a
husky, broken voice, patting the head and smoothing the
neck of his favourite. “ Good fellow! I did not want to
scold you, and so—Bill should have known better than



20 WILLARD LAWSON,

to set you free. But I must take nothing, not even my
own dog, from the farm. Go back, Rover, go back !”

The dog seemed to understand the words, though they
were spoken low and sorrowfully, and without a gesture,
and he looked up with his large meek eyes into the boy’s
face—oh, so pleadingly! Poor Willard’s heart had been
swelling until his bosom seemed hardly large enough to
contain it, but this last appeal was too much ; and, with
uncontrollable sobbings, he threw himself upon the neck
of his dumb favourite, and clung to him as though he had
no other associate or friend on earth. And he had no
other now. Poor Willard! For awhile the wanderer
sobbed on in utter abandonment ; the dog now thrusting
his nose into his bosom, now licking his hands and face,
and striving by such mute eloquence to win him from his
grief, whatever might have occasioned it. At last the
youth mastered the emotion, and with trembling lip and
swimming eye, stood again upon his feet.

“Go home, Rover—go! Go, Rover! Rascal! down!
down! go home !”

The dog, at the first command, given fulteringly, had
sprung again to his master’s shoulders, wagging his tail,
as though to congratulate him on his restored calmness,
But at the last words, spoken authoritatively, he crouched
at his feet, whining piteously, and looking up to his face
with the most beseeching fondness. If the eyes be the
mirror of the soul, what a soul some brute animals must
have! Willard turned his head from their chiding, ap-
pealing gaze, and choked down the heart that was spring-
ing to his throat, while, in a louder and still more com-



WILLARD LAWSON. 21

manding tone, he exclaimed, pointing with his finger and
stamping with his foot, ‘‘ Back, Rover! Go home!”

The dog only lowered his head quite to the dust, and
whined more piteously than before. Perhaps Willard
was afraid to trnst his voice again, but he certainly was
resolved on making the animal obey him. Taking a knife
from his pocket, he proceeded, not very deliberately, to
a tree which drooped its heavy branches over the stone
wall by the wayside. The dog did not move, but his
large, pitiful eyes followed his young master to the tree,
and watched him with a look of meek sorrow while he
cut a limb from it and hastily trimmed away the leaves,
But—as he returned! Willard was within a yard of his
mutely eloquent friend, when the dog seemed of a sudden
to comprehend his intent; and with a sharp, piercing
cry, made up of more emotions than often swell in a
human bosom—a cry of intense, heart-crushing anguish—
he leaped the fence and bounded away. Willard watched
him ; not with tears now, for there was something horri-
fying in what he had done, but with a kind of awe-
stricken fear, until he reached the little bridge which had
been thrown over the creek in the pasture. Here the
dog for the first time relaxed his speed, turned about, and
stretching his neck, ominously, in the direction in which
Willard stood, sent forth a long, dismal howl. Howl
after howl—how] after howl—prolonged—terrible !_ And
the boy, putting his fingers to his ears, ran with all his
speed, till he had left the hill between himself and his
home. Pause once more, and bethink thee, Willard !
Perchance, that far-off howl, dying now in the distance,
is warning thee of coming evil. Pause and think !



22 WILLARD LAWSUN.

As Willard hurried on, though he passed familiar farm-
houses, bidding adieu to the scenes of boyhood, perhaps
for ever, a change gradually came over him; for the
clear, fresh air of morning brushed his cheek and cooled
his forehead, giving courage to his heart ; and the brisk
motion quickened his blood and took some of the pain
from his pulse-throbs. By degrees his thoughts passed
over from the things he was leaving, to the future; and
he went on, whistling ‘‘ A life on the ocean-wave,” and
carelessly switching the thistles and May-blossoms with
the stick which he had cut for Rover.

CHAPTER II.—A STRANGER,

Witiarp had been wandering by the wharf all day,
passing from one vessel to another, talking with seamen
and laying plans for the future with apparent boldness ;
but, spite of all this, there was a desolate feeling at his
heart, which was fast writing itself in unboyish characters
of thought upon his face. He still had with him the
stick which he brought from Lawson farm; and carried
suspended from it a small bundle of things which he had
taken the forethought to tie up in a pocket handkerchief
on the morning he left home. ' This, with a very scanty
purse, was all he had on earth ; neither money, nor goods,
nor friends. But he possessed that which was worse for
him, unguided as he was, than his wants—a bold, im-
pulsive nature, self-confidence, and an undoubting trust
in, others, warmth and energy and gaiety, and a desire
to see everything and test everything ; while, just at this
moment, when he most needed it, a hinge was loosened



WILLARD LAWSON. 23

in his strong heart. He wandered alone to a back street,
dark, narrow and filthy, for he was taking his first lesson
in economy, and seated himself on a bench at the door
of an alehouse, Strange beings were passing by. The
drunkard and the pauper, the undisguised miserable and
the degraded mirthful in their misery, the needy beggar
and the beggar by profession; all went trooping on ;
varied only now and then by a face which had some
tokens of decency in it, to break up the disgusting mo-
notony. After awhile men began to gather in the ale-
house, for night came creeping on. And such men!
Willard had never dreamed of their like before. There
were oaths and blasphemies, and brutal jests and coarse
loud peals of laughter, and wrangling, with now and then
an expostulation that had but little gentleness about it ;
and as Willard listened, he moved uneasily on his bench
and looked about him with some anxiety, for his pros-
pects for the night were anything but agreeable. But
should he be coward enough to change his quarters ?
Willard was but a boy, and boys have some super-
refined notions of courage. He stretched himself upon
the bench, placing his little bundle under his head. He
had not been in this position long when his attention was
attracted by another new-comer. The stranger was tall
and broad-shouldered—magnificently made ; and as he
stept into the light beyond the doorway, Willard raised
his head and looked after him admiringly, Was it some
brigand chief, some proud and powerful sea-robber, or
could it be a mere common man like the others there,
smoking and drinking and swearing? He could not be
a good man, for Willard knew that this was no place for



24 WILLARD LAWSON.

the good. And yet he did not look like one given to
vicious habits or evil passions. His rich, wavy hair was
slightly grizzled, but it had evidently been touched by
no pencil more objectionable than Time carries ; his com-
plexion was pale and delicate, quite unlike that of a sea-
robber ; and his soft blue eye was full of mildness and
love. He wore a stiff, military-looking coat, buttoned
closely to the chin, displaying his strong muscular pro-
portions to the best advantage, and carried in his hand
a heavy walking-stick, headed with silver. Willard could
not discover in what the stranger’s peculiarity either of
dress or manner consisted, and yet there was a pecu-
liarity which attracted the attention of all the bar-room
loungers. He spoke a word or two to those nearest him
on entering, in a voice of singular richness and energy ;
and then drawing back a little from the company, placed
himself upon a settle, just inside the door. He was evi-
dently a stranger to the rest of the company as to Wil-
lard; and although he seemed disinclined to join in their
mirth, his eye wandered from one to another with an in-
terested kind of curiosity, which puzzled our young friend
not a little. Was there any affinity existing between the
spirit of the stranger and a scene like this? There was
a nobleness in his countenance and a majesty in his air,
which belonged to no common person—an arch-angel
fallen, perhaps, for, if not fallen, why should he be there
among the vicious and degraded ? Willard watched him
wonderingly, and as he watched, the heads within began
to dance together, the night-lamps joined them, and
finally the stars, and at last the boy’s dull eyes closed
entirely, and his chin rested upon his shirt-collar, Wil-



WILLARD LAWSON. 25

lard was tired and sleepy that night. How long he gave
himself up to the dream-spirits he did not know; but
when he awoke, a voice of singular kindness, close to his
ear, remarked, ‘‘ You have slept soundly, my son.”

‘* T have had an unusual pillow,” returned Willard,
smiling, and raising his head from the shoulder where it
had rested, ‘‘ I trust I may not have hugged it too long
for its owner’s convenience.”

‘¢ That is its owner’s care. It was presented unasked,
and might have been reclaimed at any moment. But,
surely,” added the stranger, in a lower tone, ‘‘ you are
not in the habit of resorting to such a place as this?”

‘‘T might return the compliment,” answered Willard,
laughing, “for I take your remark as something of a
compliment ; I wondered myself to sleep upon the sub-
ject.”

‘¢ And what did you decide ?”

** Nothing.”

‘“‘T have met with better success in my study. You are
a stranger.”

‘‘ Not quite a companion for men like those ?—thank
you.”

*‘ You are far from home, for the first time ?”

‘‘ The first time,” returned Willard, with a sigh.

* You have not always been happy in that home ?”

‘There ’s no great skill in that—who has ?”

“You left it in anger.”

‘Go on, wizard.”

‘‘'You know you have taken a false step, and feel much
regret; but you are too proud to return.”



26 WILLARD LAWSON.

‘¢ No, no, I am not sorry I have done it. I am not
sorry—lI would n’t go back for the world!”

‘¢ Rover misses you.”

Willard started, and turned slightly pale.

”



** And your sister Sophy

‘¢ Ha! I believe you are the deuce, man.”

‘* Not quite, my son; your guess has even less courtesy
in it than mine, when I dub you runaway.”

** Who and what are you that you should know so
much of me—know the names of Sophy and Rover ?”

** T can tell you more—you have a desire to go to sea.”

* Right, but you must have dealings with his black
majesty.”

‘* And more.” Here the stranger took the youth’s
hand affectionately in his, and looked into his face with
solemn earnestness, ‘‘I can tell you more, my son; and
I am no magician to discover it. I see it written upon
your forehead ; I see it beaming in your eye. God has
done that for you which may make you among men like
yonder star among these feeble lamp-lights. He has
gifted you with a quick, powerful intellect, and a warm,
earnest heart; but that power may be degraded and
spend itself on trifles; that warmth may be perverted.
The gallant craft you are about to launch upon the broad
ocean of the world, (pardon me, my son,) with tender
sails and warped rudder, is a thing too noble to subject
to such a risk. If you were an older sailor you would
make better preparations for your voyage. No, I am
laying no unusual weakness to your charge. I see the
fire in your eye; I read strength of purpose on that bold



WILLARD LAWSON. 27

brow, and I know what a strong will may enable you to
do. But beware, my son! as noble vessels as yours
have been wrecked; as strong minds have yielded the
jewel of intellect — integrity, unswerving principle ;
hearts as true as yours have blackened under the finger
of pollution. What talisman have you to bear you
safely through? ‘There was a time, I think—there must
have been a time when you prayed, ‘ lead us not into
temptation ;’ and now you are voluntarily walking in the
way of it. Do I not tell you truth, my son?”

‘¢ What am I to do?” asked Willard, with a quiver-
ing lip.

‘¢ First sit down and tell me all your troubles and
your plans.”

‘¢ You seem to be pretty well informed on that subject
already.”

“ I never saw you, nor heard of you till this evening.”

‘‘ How, then, do you know so much about me?”

*“ Your face is just now strangely full of thought—
you look innocent—you are respectably clad—you carry
a bundle on your walking-stick—you are in a place given
up to the vicious—you go to sleep unsuspectingly where
any but a stranger would feel pretty sure of having his
pocket picked—you murmur names in your sleep—your
speech on awaking is intelligent; am I a wizard?”

‘‘ You are observing.”

‘‘ T came here to observe ; and shall be but too happy
if I can be of service to you.”

“ I thank you, but I believe my path is pretty plain
before me. I have had conversation with a shipmaster
to-day, and have very nearly enlisted as a sailor. You



28 WILLARD LAWSON.

are very kind; but, notwithstanding your warning, I have
a fancy that he who cannot preserve purity of mind and
morals on the water, would scarce do it on the land.”

“ Very true, my son. Is it your intention to go out
as a common sailor?”

“ Yes, I begin at the bottom of the hill. I have no
friends to help me to a better berth.”

‘“‘ Your associates then must necessarily be men who,
if not vicious, are ignorant—you will have no change of
companionship, nothing to elevate your thoughts and
feelings—all a dark, degraded level about you, and you
must be more than human not to sink to it. You are
young, too, and do not yet understand your capabilities,
because you have not tested them. You should be tho-
roughly educated P

‘“‘T do not like study, sir.”

‘“‘ Scarce an excuse for a man, my son. If the bird
should chance not to like the air, we might give it to
some little girl to enslave, or if the fish should find the
water disagreeable, we should scarce take the trouble to
reason with it—let the foolish thing die ; but the immor-
tal mind is not a bird or a fish, to be granted its whim
and perish. The question is not what you fancy, but
what you need. Nothing worth having flies to you and -
alights upon your hand ; you must seek, dig, dig, dig, and
the ‘ hid treasure,’ when found, will be worth a thousand
worlds to you. There is something glorious, too, in the
labour. You commence in this world a process which is
to be carried on hereafter under the eyes of angels—
which is to make the bliss of eternity. Think of the great,
undying, God-like mind within you, lying all uncultivated,





WILLARD LAWSON. 29

its capacities undeveloped, its powers unimproved, its af-
finity to the Deity unrecognised—benefiting no one, in-
fluencing no one, lost like rubbish among the things that
perish—a chasm in the great intellectual unity, a monster
‘ of ingratitude to the God who endowed it, and a curse to
itself. You cannot walk through the world as the fool
walks, and be happy; for there is that within you which
demands your life-long care, and if you neglect it—listen
to me, my son, believe me, for I have seen more years
and more men than you have, and I have made natures
like yours my study—if you neglect it, you may almost as
well turn at once to yonder bar and find your associates
there. You cannot satisfy the yearning of the deathless
spirit for the food it covets, with husks; it will not be
toyed with; and when, starved, enslaved, trampled on,
its sharp cry comes to your ear, you will drown it as—
those men drown it. Look! that one with the scar across
’ the brow, and the frightful scowl had—has no common
mind—you will discover it for yourself if you watch his
actions and his words. On the table yonder, degrading
himself lower than any mountebank, is one made to love
beauty and harmony—a poet by nature, a harlequin by
prostitution.”

‘ You seem to know them well,” remarked Willard,
throwing a scrutinizing glance on his monitor. |
“‘ As I know you; I have never met them before.”

** T had been looking at them before you came in, and
I thought them either fools or madmen ; there seems to
be no reason either in their actions or words, ’

“ They are both; but not half as mad as you are now
to run voluntarily into the same danger.”



80 WILLARD LAWSON.

Willard drew himself up. ‘“ I have reason to be highly
flattered, sir, with your opinion of my strength of charac-
ter and purity of principle.”

The stranger laid his hand soothingly on the shoulders
of the half-angry youth, which lowered beneath its mag-
netic touch, until he stood smiling beside him as before.
‘“¢ Have you more than human strength, my son? There |
is an angel hovering over your heart I know; but is there
one standing at its door with a flaming sword to keep out
evil? Is it chained fast that it cannot go into error ? Are
you stronger than the Son of the Morning, and purer
than he, that you cannot fall? Does none of the original
sin of our ruined natures cleave to you, and have you
added nothing thereto? A Redeemer died for you; but
did he make it impossible for you to sin? or was it not
this same Holy One who said, ‘ Watch and pray, lest you
enter into temptation?’ Think of the indignant exclama-
tion of one as pure-hearted and unsuspecting as you are:
‘ What! dost thou think thy servant a dog that he should
do this great thing?’ And what things did he not do?
What crime too black for him afterwards? ‘There was a
time, I doubt not, when yonder harlequin would have
been indignant had his present degradation but been
hinted at. But listen to him now. That was a beautiful
sentiment to drop from such lips—but how distorted—
and finished with an oath—hear him, There was a time
when he was innocent and self-confident, and I am sure
not many years ago. Wait me here while I recall those
days. If I can but lay my finger on the right chord, I
may produce a vibration which will call up some well-nigh
forgotten strain of better days, and do him good.”



WILLARD LAWSON. 31

The stranger stepped to the table, where a light-haired,
fair-faced, lithe young man was dancing and singing
songs, and performing various feats of buffoonery for the
amusement of the boisterous company about him.”

‘¢ Henry Crayton, I believe !”

‘* Ah! ‘what’s in a name?’ ‘ Avoid ye! get thee
behind me!’ ‘Do you squinny at me?’

‘ When the wine-cup is smiling before us,

And we pledge round to hearts that are true, boys, true,
Remember your part’s to encore us;

So here 's for a hulabuloo—loo, loo, loo,

So here ’s for—here ’s for—’

Where are your voices, boys? Oh, there is the big
shadow yet—out with it, man!”

‘*T have a message for you.”

‘¢ Then deliver thyself, an’ thou art not breathless with
the weighty matter, my little foot-page. Speak on;
these are all our right loyal subjects, and we have no
secrets from their ears.”

‘“* T had better wait your leisure,” replied the stranger,
turning away.

‘‘ Leisure! here’s for you, then. I come—I come!”
and, plunging from the table, young Crayton alighted on
his hands, turned a somerset, cleared himself of the ap-
plauding crowd, and joined the tall stranger on the
portico.

‘*Perhaps I should apologize for interrupting your
agreeable amusement,” Willard heard his new friend re-
mark,

‘‘ Agreeable! Well, there is laughing and the hours
go by—yes, it is agreeable. You had an errand?”



32 WILLARD LAWSON.

‘“‘ My message was a petition.”

“ You had better have presented it then while I was
on my throne. Ha, ha!”

‘It is a solemn one.”

‘¢ Well, speak, though I have no liking for solemn
things,” answered the half-sobered youth,

‘ Let ’s laugh and be merry,
For old Charon’s ferry,
It ——’

I beg your pardon, speak on.”

“An angel once dwelt in your heart, and he would
fain come back again. Innocence is the lost one’s name
—oh, take her to your bosom, and with her she will
bring a sister—Peace.” Willard did not hear the re-
ply, but he thought it was a scoff, and he wondered if it
were possible for him ever to become so degraded. The
two men still pursued their walk up and down the portico,
their voices gradually growing lower and more earnest,
till not a single word could be distinguished. At last
they parted. ‘The younger walked away in the darkness,
and the stranger monitor returned to the waiting Willard.

“Poor fellow! He is very miserable, for he is as
sensitive concerning his degradation as though it were not
his own work. He was not sorry to find sympathy and
encouragement, and I have left him with an arrow in his
heart which he may turn to balm, Heaven help him !
He has promised to come to me in the morning for em-
ployment. If he should, I will do the best I can for
him, and I think some friends that I have in town would
second my endeavours.”



WILLARD LAWSON. 33

‘Do you believe that he will keep his promise?”

“Tt is doubtful. He might reform, but it is hard to
retread steps of darkness and bitterness ; better commence
aright, my son.”

Willard wished himself at home again, and almost
thought that he would submit to his father’s control,
(tyranny he named it,) in order to avoid the fearful
hazard of his present position.

“© T would commence aright,” he began, falteringly, ‘* I
would commence aright—but—I cannot go back to
Lawson farm, ‘There is no one to guide me here, no one
to advise me; what shall I do?”

‘© And why not go back, my son?”

‘¢ T am not happy there—I cannot be. If there were
any one to talk to me as you do, to awaken me to a
consciousness of my own powers, and teach me to culti-
vate and improve them, I might find pleasure in that ;
but I shall go away and forget what you have told me,
and I cannot do right when Iam unhappy. No, [never
will go back to Lawson farm.”

‘© Go with me then, will you not?”

“© Where ?”

‘¢ To—to complete your education, to fit yourself for
usefulness in the sphere which to-day you may choose ;
to-morrow will be lost to you. Go with me, my son,
and you never will regret this most important decision of
your life.”

‘* How can I go? Iam but one remove from beg-
gary, though I decline the profession in favour of the
‘ bounding billow.’ Here is my wardrobe in this pocket-
handkerchief, and here my purse—just ten shillings

C



34 WILLARD LAWSON,

in it—a weighty capital with my expectations! I have
nothing else in the wide world.”

*‘ You have a strong hand and a strong intellect. Im-
prove well what you have, and I will make the rest easy
for you.”

** Who then are you ?”

The stranger pulled a card from his pocket, and put
it in the hand of the youth, who stepped nearer the
light to read it. In a moment he returned, his eye
moist and his voice tremulous.

‘‘ T have heard of you. You have been very kind to
reason so with my waywardness, and I commit myself,
without question, to your guidance; for your voice has
reached to my inmost spirit, and roused aspirations which
might have slumbered for ever.”

‘You will go with me, then ?”

“ T will. I dare not refuse. It almost seems to me
that you have been sent here, in this hour of danger, by
my dead mother.”

‘¢ Perhaps ; the spirits that have gone home before do
watch over us, my son.”

CHAPTER III.——-THE ORATOR.

AN immense concourse of the proudest intellects our
country can boast, had assembled at ——-—. There
was a hush like the pulseless silence of the tomb; for
the inspiration of a mighty spirit had passed over them ;
and each rapt listener suspended his breathing, lest even
that should drown some tone replete with the eloquence



WILLARD LAWSON. 85

of the mighty indwelling spirit. The voice of the speaker
was one well known in the council-hall, ‘one to which
senators had listened with reverence, one which wisdom
honoured and philanthropy had cause to bless. And he
now spoke eloquently and feelingly upon a subject, which
it was evident interested him beyond measure—the dis-
persion of the clouds from the intellectual horizon of the
human race; and the full, steady light, flooding every-
thing in its way, which was spreading itself from zenith
to nadir. He spoke of the might of mind even in its
clay prison; of the man of the wise thought beside the
man of the strong arm; of the little voice which comes
up from the lone philosopher’s cell to shake the broad
earth with its thunders; and of the foolish one, who goes
out among his fellows, never knowing nor making it
known that he carries more than the wealth of an empire
in his bosom. He went back to the earth’s midnight,
and plunged into the closet of the alchymist and the cell
of the monk, where genius wrestled with superstition, in
the dense darkness, and where knowledge long hid her
mourning head; and he brought up from each a libation
to pour upon the altar of intellectual democracy. He
pointed to the lone stars that formerly glittered, wonders
to gaze at, in the wide heaven of literary fame ; and then
he suddenly unrolled a new firmament, all spangled over
with orbs full of brilliancy and beauty, but so lost in the
universal light as to be scarce discoverable. And with
what heartfelt eloquence he hailed the glorious morning!
Ah! he must have been standing beneath a sun of his
own, to be so enraptured with the spirit-warming efful-
gence; for there are those who even now see nothing



36 WILLARD LAWSON,

but feeble rush-lights, glimmering in the darkness ; who
long for the olden time, when but one star blazed aloft to
light a century, and after its exit the world slumbered on,
till another came, darting its wild coruscations athwart the
gloom with startling fitfulness. He was not a mere ora-
tor; he was an artist, a Pygmalion, and his creations
breathed—glowed—burned ; his Promethean hand had
stolen the sacred fire, and he scattered it with a wild pro-
fusion, which left a spark on every heart—not to kindle
passion, but to burn away the dross, and leave the god-
like spirit unalloyed, in unshackled freedom. He ceased,
and that vast concourse arose and walked away in sub-
dued silence. Each mind, however deeply buried in fri-
volities, flung open its portals to thought, and thought is
the angel which, once admitted, rectifies and renovates
the whole inner being.

Among those who listened to the thrilling eloquence
of the gifted orator was a noble-browed, mild-eyed old
man, with locks of snow, and a face whose expression
combined benevolence with native dignity. His broad
chest heaved: with emotion while he listened ; and, when
the eyes of others kindled with enthusiasm, his closed
over with the warm tears which gushed up from a foun-
tain stirred in his bosom only; for he knew that from a
little seed which he once held between his own fingers,
sprang all those sentiments so fraught with life, so redo-
lent with wisdom and purity. In a few minutes they had
grasped hands—the noble old man, and the son of his
better nature. They met not with outward caressings,
but with a close clasping of the spirit which is sometimes
granted on this side of bliss, and a more than womanly



WILLARD LAWSON. 87

gush of tenderness quivering in either voice; for it is a
gross wisdom which claims not love for its twin.

Go on, Willard Lawson! gather thy jewels about thee,
as thou art gathering them now; make thine own setting
one of unsurpassed glory; for soon a brow thou lovest
will turn from earth to be adorned in heaven; and on
that noble brow the jewel of thine own bright spirit will
glitter.



THE FRENCH EMIGRANTS.

‘‘ Sez, mother, see! we are coming nearer and nearer
every moment. It is a beautiful town—so bright and
cheerful! and everything looks so fresh about it! Oh!
it does one’s heart good to see the land again. And that
is Fort James, perched on that high point, and looking
down as though it were the guardian of the waters. We
shall be very happy here, in this charming home !—You
look sad, mother.”

So spake a slight, dark-haired stripling, with the warm
hue of a southern sun upon his cheek; as, leaning over
the vessel’s side, while she rode proudly into the harbour
of New York, he fixed his glowing eye upon the long
hoped-for asylum of the new world. The young queen
of western commerce was indeed bright that morning ;
with the pretty fort for a crown, and skirts sweeping back
into the green shadow, all jewelled over with happy
hearth-stones. Indeed, never was town more finely
spread out for a sea-view; and the yellow Holland brick,
of which many of the buildings were constructed, and the
mingled red and black tiles which covered the roofs of
more, with the glow of the sunlight upon them, made it
as gay asasachem’s bride. ‘The broad banner waved
and flaunted cheerily from the top of the tall flag-staff,



rt

THE FHfNCH EMIGRANTS. 39

seeming to promise protection to the stranger and the
defenceless; and as the ship glided majestically over the
just rippling waters, long and loud were the cheers that
arose from the multitude collected on the shore ; and the
formal salutation from the fort met with a ready response
from the hearty crew. All now was confusion on board
—a glad, joyous confusion; pleased exclamations fell
from one lip, only to be snatched up and echoed by, ano-

ther; and handkerchiefs fluttered in the air, in reply to

like signals from waiting friends on the land.

“You look sad, mother,” repeated the boy, lowering
his voice, till its soft tones contrasted strangely with the
universal gaiety, and turning upon her a glance of ten-

~ derly respectful inquiry.

“Tf I felt so, I should be ungrateful, my son. God
has guided us’ from a land of persecution to the garden
which he has planted for his oppressed. But you spoke
of home, Francois, and I thought of our vine-covered
hills, and of the sunny valley, on the banks of the Loire,
where I have left sleeping all but you.”

“ Do not think of it again, my mother.”

The woman pressed her hand for a moment against her
forehead, as though stifling, meanwhile, some deep emo-
tion ; then said, in a different tone, ‘‘ If we only had that
lost casket, Frangois! The Captain has not always been
kind to us, and I dread meeting him now—he has almost
seemed to doubt the truth of our story. Heaven help
us! but it will be along time before we can pay this
passage money!” .

“‘ Never fear for that, mother; money comes almost
by the asking, they say, here, and I shall soon be a man,



40 THE FRENCH EMIGRANTS.

now. I will build you a little cabin under the shelter of
the trees. The men have told me just how it is done,
and I long to be at work this very moment, I will build
you a nice cabin, and I will kill game which you shall
cook for us two, and we will sit down at evening, just as
we used to sit in our pretty cottage in France before that
horrible persecution, and you shall—Don’t look so
troubled, mother ; you are thinking of this ugly affair of
the money, now. I can trade in furs, and—do I hardly
know what, but just what the other settlers do to get
rich ina day. You must remember that I am not a
little boy, now, but can take care of myself, and you too ;
and they tell me that the term Huguenot is an honour-
able one here. Oh! we shall be very happy! think you
not so, mother ?”

‘* Anywhere with thee, my noble boy!” returned the
matron, gazing fondly upon the eloquent young face
turned so earnestly to hers. ‘* With freedom to worship
God as he has bidden, and with thee, my last earthly
hope and trust, beside me, what more could I ask or de-
sire ?”

The ship had anchored in the bay, and hurriedly the
gea-wearied passengers were landing. Many. citizens
lad come on board; and on the shore, friend grasped
the hand of friend, with such cordial words of greeting
as the first heart-bound carried to the lip. Among all
glad ones, none were gladder than the enthusiastic French
lad. With bared head, and joy-flashing eye, he stood
beside his mother watching the happy throng, as though
in their happiness he could forget his own exile. But
that was not the source of his animation. He was



THE FRENCH EMIGRANTS. 41

looking to the future—his young spirit buoyed up by
hopes as yet unintelligible to himself, but brighter for the
very veil which covered them; and his heart beating
with the tenderness which was all centered on one human
being—his widowed, and, but for him, childless mother.

‘‘ Stand here a moment, and I will see where we can
be set ashore. I am longing to plant my foot on that
spot of green.” So saying, the youth mingled in the
crowd, and the widow turned her eyes from the view of
her new home, to follow, with the fond pride of a mother,
his graceful figure as it moved, all unlike the others,
about the deck. In a few moments he returned, the
masses of raven hair, which had been flung back to allow
the fragrant land-breezes to play upon his temples, half-
shading his pale cheek, and his white lip quivering with
agitation,

‘Francois! what is it, my son? speak!’

‘Oh! it is too much—too much! I shall die here,
so near the land!” and the boy, forgetting his boast of
manhood, leaned over the railing and wept passionately.

The mother placed her hand soothingly upon his glossy
curls, which shook as though the throbbing heart below
had been in them; and waited patiently his explanation.

“ We must stay here, mother—and I cannot live in
this horrid ship another night, I am sure I cannot.”

“ We have spent many happy nights and days in it,
my son,” returned the widow, softly ; “* but why must we
stay now? Who detains us?”

“ We cannot land till the ship charges are paid—so
they have told me ; and that will be never—never.”

A look of troubled surprise spread itself over the



42 THE FRENCH EMIGRANTS.

_ widow’s countenance ; but still her spirit was in subjec-
tion to the careful tenderness of the mother. “I am
sorry for your sake, Francois; but cheer up, my son! It
will do them no good to detain us here, and they will let ~
us go in the morning—I am sure they will.”

‘¢ If they would set me on the land, I would work like
a galley-slave, but they should receive the uttermost far-
thing.”

‘¢ We will tell them so—we will tell them so. Cheer
up, Frangois, and let us look upon the city again. It is
but a little while till morning.” ,

Francois seemed to make an effort for his mother’s
sake, and raised his head ; but how changed was the ex-
pression of those two faces, as they again turned towards
the land!

Only a few feet from the exiles had stood, for the last
ten minutes, a person who regarded them closely, though
by them entirely unnoticed. His mild blue eyes, and fair,
good-humoured face, bespoke him a Hollander; and the
massive silver buckles at his knees and on his shoes, pro-
claimed him an individual of some consequence, which
was farther confirmed by the deferential manner of those
around him, A close observer would have detected a
strange mixture of the child and the man in that face.
The eye was soft and gentle as a woman’s, while the
mouth evinced a singular degree of firmness and decision ;
and, though the very spirit of benevolence rested on the
retreating forehead, with its crown of half-silvered hair,
the bold determination with which the broad nostril was
now and then expanded, contradicted the bare supposi-
tion of weakness. His attention had been attracted by



THE FRENCH EMIGRANTS. 43

the interesting foreigners; he had seen the boy bound, .
like a freed deer, from the side of his mother, and return
drooping and dispirited; and he had seen that mother
stifling some deep emotion for the sake of her boy. It
was evident that he did not understand their language,
for he watched them as though studying out the cause of
their sorrow, until they turned away their faces; and
then, with a look of sympathy, he left them, probably
believing them to be of the number who had crossed the
ocean in search of friends, to find them only in their
graves.

Two days passed, and still the lone Huguenot strangers
were prisoners in the ship, in sight of the green earth and
of cheerful firesides.

“This,” exclaimed the widow, as she crouched in the
cabin, desolate and heart-sick, ‘ this is worse than all
the rest—not for me—TI could bear it—I could bear any
thing alone ; but my poor, poor boy r

She was roused by aslow, dragging step, so unlike the
elastic spring of her idol, that, but for its lightness, she
would not have recognised it.

“ Mother, it is decided—I have just learned our fate ‘ee
and the fragile boy sunk, like a crushed blossom, at her
feet.

The widow tried to assume a tone of encouragement.
“ What is it, Francois? any thing is better than this close
ship, with the green earth and shady trees so near us. I
cannot bear to see you droop and pine, my love—if they
would but give you back the strength and pride this sor-
row has stolen—if I could but see your bright head erect

son 2?
again” —



44 THE FRENCH EMIGRANTS.

‘‘Tt never can be, mother; better that we both were
dead—dead in our graves in France! Oh! why did we
ever come away? ‘There they would give us nothing
worse than a dungeon or a coffin ; here they will not let
us so hide ourselves—will not let us die. What think
you, mother?” and now, the boy, dashing the hair back
from his forehead, changed his mournful tone to one of
mad energy. ‘In an hour or two, we are to be exposed
in their market-place, in the open street—sold like their
Holland plough-horses and Utrecht heifers” —

The widow’s life might have gone out from her, in that
one wild scream of heart-piercing agony. She was pre-
pared for toil—for suffering in almost every shape. She
could have borne even slavery, herself; but her boy, her
proud, high-hearted boy! the beautiful biossom that
God had given to bless her bereavement! the bird, that,
if but an autumn breeze shook the roof-tree rudely, had
nestled in her bosom for protection !—her frail, but
noble boy, so delicate, so gentle to her, yet so spirited !
—should he, too, be crushed beneath a foot triple-shod
with iron? Should his fair, polished limbs, through
which she had so often traced the flow of the red life-
current, which her lip had touched, and her loving eye
admired, canker beneath the heavy chain of a life-lasting
bondage? Should that eagle eye grow cold in child-
hood ? that bright lip forget its smile? that free, glad-
some heart become the grave of all its freshly budding
wealth of feeling? Was there no appeal? Could she not
find, in the crowd which thronged that busy city, a single
human heart which she could excite to something like
sympathy? that would be content to crush her to the

ts



THE FRENCH EMIGRANTS. 45

earth, wring her spirit till every cord should snap asun-
der, and save her boy? Alas! what could be done by
a stranger, a lone, feeble woman, confined to her prison
in the ship? If she could be led forth to the haunts of
men, and they would listen, those who could understand
her language were fugitives like herself, and probably
nearly as helpless. So the miserable Frenchwoman
crouched upon the low settle in entire helplessness, and
moaned as though her spirit would have passed on each
breath. Minute after minute, minute after minute of
slowly moving time went by; and still the sobbing boy
rested his forehead upon his mother’s knees; and still
the mother clasped her hands, and moaned on.

There was a quick, heavy tread upon the cabin stairs;
but neither looked up. It came nearer, and paused be-
side them; but the woe-laden exiles moved not; they
had no ear for anything but their own misery.

‘‘T have good news for you, madam,” commenced a
somewhat harsh voice, hesitatingly, ‘‘ good news — do
you hear me? can you listen ?”

The widow raised an alarmed eye to the face of the
speaker, and clung, with a desperate grasp, to her son.

The boy’s apprehension was quicker. ‘* Good news!
What? In God’s name, do not mock us !”

‘‘T am sent by one, who cannot speak our language,
to say —”

The man paused a moment to note the effect of his
words.

“ Speak on!” exclaimed Frangois ; ‘* you torture us.”

“To say that your ship charges are paid; and you
are free, free to go wherever you list.”



46 THE FRENCH EMIGRANTS.

The widow stared in eager doubt, her hand still grasp-
ing firmly the arm of her boy. But Francois! the droop-
ing blossom of the moment previous ! How the eloquent
blood came rushing to his cheek, and how his dark eye
flashed with awakened hope! Not a single exclamation
broke from his lip; but he stood like a proud young
eagle pluming his wings for flight.

It was several minutes before the exiles were prepared
to listen to an explanation of their good fortune. When
they did, they were told simply that a benevolent mer-
chant, endeared to the common people of New York for
his many virtues, had seen them on the day of their
arrival, and had found his sympathies deeply enlisted by
their evident disappointment, and the sorrow it occa-
sioned. Afterwards, he lost sight of them until the de-
cision of the tribunal, which would have made them
slaves; when, finding his influence insufficient to prevent
the disgraceful proceedings, he had stepped in with his
purse, and discharged the debt.

“© You are now free to go wherever you like,” conti-
nued the good natured interpreter ; “but you are in-
vited to the house of your benefactor, where you will find
friends, and a home until you choose to leave it.”

“ God bless the noble merchant! I will be fas slave
for ever !” exclaimed Frangois, his heart swelling with
~ enthusiastic gratitude.

The widow’s lips moved, and warm tears, for the first
time, gushed from her eyes, and rained down over her
face ; but her voice was too much broken by emotion to
convey the sentiment she would have uttered.

By the dock stood (his heart in his face and that all



THE FRENCH EMIGRANTS. 47

sunshine) a blue-eyed, bright-haired youth, with the
merchant’s own forehead, and a lip of lighter and more
graceful mould. The young Hollander was scarce infe-
rior in beauty, as he waited there to perform his most
grateful task, to Frangois himself. The merchant had
been too modest to appear as a benefactor in the public
street, well known as he was, and he had sent his son to
bring home the strangers. A snug little waggon, such
as was commonly used by the better sort of Hollanders,
awaited them, and they were soon seated and proceeding
on their way. As they neared the market-place, and the
merchant’s son caught a glimpse of the crowd assembled
(some, uninformed of what had occurred, to witness the
sale of the helpless strangers, and some to report and
expatiate upon the generous deed of their townsman), he
instantly gave the reins to his horses, and turned his head
in an opposite direction. There was at first a slight
movement in the crowd, face after face turning toward
the street. Then came a low murmur, swelling gradually
higher and higher, till at last it burst into a mighty and
universal shout, ‘‘ LONG LIVE THE NOBLE LEISLER!
‘¢ LEISLER FOR EVER |” “ LEISLER FOR EVER !”



THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE

“‘ Disciple. When the soul sinks to earth and its wings fal:

away, how may they be restored again ?
Zoroaster. By sprinkling them with the Waters of Life.
Disciple. But where are those waters to be found ?
Zoroaster, In the Garden of God.”

I wap been poring over some of the half beautiful, half
ridiculous fictions of the Oriental theologians, startled
every now and then to find a real diamond gleaming up
from the mystic rubbish of darkened genius, and sad-
dened by learning how very near the truth some few had
groped, while they had gone down to the grave without
having discovered one ray of its pure light.

Gray shadows were falling upon Strawberry Hill, when
I closed the book and leaned from the window, thinking,
as I marked a dark-eyed girl of some five summers cross-
ing the log bridge, how would the mighty Zoroaster have
been rejoiced to receive the key to truth now in the
keeping of even that little child. The shadows length-
ened and grew dimmer as I watched, the twilight deep-
ened, and my thoughts took on the same mistiness; the
Persian allegories, the Rabbinical fictions, and the sublime
doctrines of the Chaldeans became strangely m





THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE. 49

my dreaminess ; and hill, stream, and meadow faded from
my closing eyes, as a new scene opened upon them, I
was at once transported to one of the innermost recesses
of a solemn and hoary forest, which I believed had slum-
bered for centuries among its own undisturbed shadows,
untrodden by the foot of man. But even asI stood
wondering in the midst of this magnificent loneliness, I
heard a voice in plaintive sadness exclaim, “* How long!
how long!” and I at once recognised the presence of one
of those fallen angels described by the Rabbins, He had
stood upon the heights of heaven, when earth was a
gloomy mass of darkness ; he had seen ‘ the Spirit of
God move upon the face of the waters;” and he had
jomed the music of the stars, when this beautiful globe
sprung to life and light. He had nestled in the trees of
Eden, and dipped his wing in the waters of the Euphrates;
but he had sinned, alas! and those beautiful wings had
fallen away. And when I saw a frail fragile creature by
his side, that I knew had trod the earth for centuries,
though there was less than the weight of twenty summers
on her clear brow, I read his sin and its punishment.
For her sake his wings had fallen, and with her he must
wander a pilgrim upon the earth, until the end of time.
For years and years they had made their home among
men—for years and years listened to the melodies of the
rich voiced bul-bul as he warbled from the rose-trees of
voluptuous Cashmere ; drunk the perfume f¥om Persian
groves, and wandered in the romantic valleys of the Nile ;
but though they grewnot weary of beauty, there was that
in the hearts of men and in their acts which made them

sad. So the angel and his bride wandered away to dark-
D



50 THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE.

er, sterner regions. ‘They climbed the icy peaks of the
rugged Altai, slept beneath the hardy evergreen of Sibe-
ria, and braved, hand in hand, the winds which howled
along the dreary plains of Kamschatka. And still they
wandered on, till Zillah and her angel were the first
to leave their footprints on the soil of the New World.
They had since seen nation after nation grow up and
wither ; they had seen gay cities built, and again brave
old trees growing over them ;— change, change came
everywhere, but not to them. At last, another race had
claimed the soil and by might possessed it. The hearts
of the angel and his bride sickened at wrong and car-
nage ; and it was then that they plunged into the heart

of the wilderness, and made them a home in its solitary

depths.

An hour-glass had just been turned, and the angel
bent thoughtfully over it, watching the glittering sands
as they dropt, one by one, into the empty glass below.
Beside him reclined, like Eve in the original Eden, a
beautiful woman. A heavy grape-vine overshadowed
her; and underneath, and by her side, bloomed gorgeous
flowers of every hue, all matted into the luxurious green.
The hand of improvement had not yet wrested from the
wilderness its treasures, Her soul-full eye, with even
more of tenderness than thought in it, rested lovingly
upon the angel,

“ That'we should measure hours, my Zillah,” he said
at length, like children of a broken day! we whose
seconds are marked to us by the seasons, and whose
minutes are centuries !”

‘‘ And is there no change yet upon the dial-plate ?”



THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE. 51

‘¢ None. When I spent a thousand years and all my
skill upon this. dial, I little thought that cycle after cycle
would pass—cycle after cycle—years wither and go to
their graves, and young years spring up bearing with
them new germs of life, and still not a shadow come to
tell us that the evening of our long, long day was nearer
than at its morning.”

‘¢ And the other signs, in the heavens and on the earth,
and among men. Are there no way-marks yet discover-
able? nothing to say how long ere this sweet, sad jour-
ney will be ended, and my angel shall have the wings
again, which he lost for me ?”

“© Yes, it is a sweet journey, Zillah ; though so—so
long! There was unfathomable mercy in the punish-
ment awarded me, in that thou wert left ; and cheerfully
we will bide our time.”

Long and wistfully had the fallen angel watched for
some sign of the earth’s dissolution ; but yet his only
remark was, ‘‘ We will bide our time.” He had looked
for the stars to pale; but still they burned on with the
same unchanging radiance as when first the band of se-
raphim went forth to light their fires; he had watched
cloud after cloud thickening and dissolving in the hea-
vens, almost expecting to see in their endless transforma-
tion a form which he yet believed he should recognise,
step from their soft folds. But there had been no change
in these, save as they obeyed the biddings of the wind,
since from the walls of the upper Paradise he looked down
on their first fresh loveliness. There had been no sign
in heaven, and none, none on earth, What mark of age
was there in the strong-limbed giants of the wood, that



52 THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE.

stood cloud-capt around his bower in the wilderness ?
Life, life was everywhere. Everything, even death it-
self, teemed with it; for, if but a flower closed its young
eye, and turned earthward withering, flowers innumerable
sprang up where it stood; and so the mighty destroyer
became the parent of beauty and bloom. The earth had
never reeled nor paused for a single moment in its bright
circuit among the stars; but on, on, beautifully and
quietly she moved, like a bird from Paradise flown by the
hand of the Eternal. The angel had watched her in his
unvarying round, and though his eye had become dimmed
by the atmosphere of earth, he could yet see deep into
the mysteries above him. He knew much, very much o¢
the heaven-lore which God has written on the stars; but
yet the weakness of his vision was painful to him. and he
longed for the day when his mind could span the universe
as at its creation. He knew where the pelican brooded
on her rocky desert nest, and saw in the red blood drunk
by her children from her willing breast but another type
of that which has its types everywhere. He had followed
the eagle in the eye of the sun, and knew the language
of his scream, the thought which prompted every move-
ment of his strong pinion, and the dreams that hovered
over him in the cloud-capt couch he had builded on the
crag. He had seen the wing of the bird grow heavy be-
neath the weight of centuries ; and when at last it drooped
and faltered, he knew the secret which cost the adventu-
rous Spaniard a life—the fountain where it went to lave
and grow young again. He had bent his ear to the flower
and listened to its whisperings ; the foot-falls of the even-
ing dew were familiar to him; and not a drop of water



THE ANGEL'S PILGRIMAGE. 53

had a tinkle, not a leaf a murmur, and not a bird a song,
the language of which he had not interpreted to his still
youthful bride, the gentle Zillah. But the flower whis-
pered of Life; the dew brought a life-draught in every
tiny globule; and the gushing water, and the fresh-lipped
leaves, and the mellow-throated birds, and the wander-
ing breeze, all joined in a chorus which brought sadness
to the spirit of the angel. It was all Lire! Lire! but
it was that life which bears somewhere in it the seeds of
dissolution ; not a blossom from the tree guarded by the
flaming sword of cherubim.

‘¢ Are there no way-marks?” repeated Zillah. ‘ It
is long since we grew sick of the glitter and falsehood
about us, and so turned to the delicious stillness of this
quiet wilderness—very long, my angel. Let us go back
again, Perhaps we may find a faint shadowing of what
we seek in the actions of men—in their virtue, their wis-
dom, or possibly their vices. It may be that His handi-
work shall never fail; that the earth and the heavens are
immutable ; and that we are to be free when my poor
fallen brethren have received back upon their bosoms the
marred image which he first left there, or when their con-
tinued sins have worn away its slightest traces, It may
be that by wisdom they will gain a spirit-mastery, and
so drop the cumbering clay and its defilements together,
and then thou mayst return to thy home and take thy
Zillah with thee. Let us go, forth and look upon the
work of mortals, and see if they are not writing their own
destiny with their own hands.”

The angel was persuaded, and hand in hand the twain
went forth upon their pilgrimage.



54 THE ANGEL'S PILGRIMAGE.

The vision changed, and I again met the wanderers in
a great city. A noisy rabble filled the streets, and the
hoarse laugh and ribald jest passed freely as they hurried
on. Zillah shrank from their infectious touch, and as she
did so, I heard the angel whisper, ‘‘ It could not have
been worse in the ancient cities which HE destroyed by
fire.” But every minute the crowd became more dense,
and as the multitude pressed in one direction, the pilgrims
turned their heads and suffered themselves to be borne
onward by it. It stopped beneath a scaffold, and the two
strange spectators cast upon each other inquiring glances.

‘ It is some merry-making for the rude populace,” at
last the angel remarked, ‘‘ and lo! yonder comes the
harlequin.”

‘‘ Then he mimics woe,” said Zillah, ‘¢ for he seems in
an agony of suffering.”

In an agony of suffering indeed was the wretched cri-
minal, as he crawled rather than walked across the scaf-
fold, wringing his hands and uttering low, half-stifled sobs
which could not be mistaken.

‘¢ Tt is no jest,” said the angel, *“‘ and yet these men
come as merrily as to a nuptial banquet. Can it be that
these poor creatures of a day find food for mirth in a bro-
ther’s suffering ?”

‘* See! What are they doing with him?” exclaimed
Zillah in alarm.

The arms were pinioned,. the cap was drawn upon the
head, and the executioner proceeded to adjust the cord.

‘¢ It—it is a scene unfit for us!” said the angel shud-
dering, and averting his eyes with horror.

A minute after there was a movement in the crowd



THE ANGEL'S PILGRIMAGE. 55

which made a sound like the sullen murmur of the sea;
and the laugh and the jest went round as before, while
the soul of a man, a brother, was passing, with all the
blackness of its fearful guilt upon it, into the fathomless
future, and the presence of the Judge. Poor Zillah
trembled like the lightly poised hare-bell in a storm ;
there was a startled glance in her soft eye, her cheek be-
came blanched, and her tongue faltered as she exclaimed,

‘¢ What can it mean? Have they taken away his life,
the little span which, notwithstanding its briefness, men
love better than their souls?”

“ Ay, my Zillah—his life! The frail bark has been
cut from its moorings to drift away upon the unknown
ocean, by hands which even to-morrow will strive to cling
to this cold shore and strive in vain. But this is not a
fitting scene for thine eyes to look upon, my bright bird
of the sunshine,—nor mine—nor mine!” he added in a
low murmur. ‘“ Oh! for my lost, earth-bartered
wings |” ,

‘‘ Bartered for me,” returned Zillah, in a tone no loud-
er than her breath, but fraught with an exquisitely sad
melody.

The angel answered only with a look, but it brought a
tint to her cheek and a beautiful light to her eye.

‘¢ And this is murder,” she continued, after a moment’s
pause.

‘No; not murder, but the terrible punishment of a
terrible crime. When’thy race, my poor Zillah, lost
every trace of the image they first bore, and turned
against each other, like the wolves and tigers of the wil-



56 THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE.

derness, the GREAT ONE passed a decree that blood alone
should wash away the stain of human blood; and this
man’s hand was red with that which had flowed in the
veins of his brother.”

‘‘ Ah! the multitude should have veiled themselves in
sackcloth, and sprinkled the gray ashes upon the floors
of their dwellings,” said Zillah, her lip growing still paler
and quivering with horror. ‘‘ The entire people should
have thronged the altar. Mourn, mourn, ye proud na-
tion! It is the son of your bosom whose baseness has
required this terrible deed at your hands; and He alone
who ‘ rideth upon the wings of the wind,’ whose ‘ pavi-
lion is in the secret place,’ knows how far the infection
has spread. Alas! my race! my poor, degraded, ruined
race !”

‘‘ This sad spectacle must needs beget sad feelings,”
returned the angel, ‘“ and yet the thoughtless crowd
make merry as at a bridal; and those who come not
here to regale their eyes with the sufferings of a brother,
pass carelessly on, chaffer in the market-place, pore over
the page, obey the beck of pleasure, and forget that an-
other black, black seal is added to the degradation of
man, Ah, my Zillah, the end is afar off. I catch no
glimpse of the living waters; my sight grows dim in this
darkness, and my foot is heavy, very heavy.”

‘t Look!” exclaimed Zillah, ‘* the dead man is lowered
to his coffin, and they all throng to look at him; see how
they jostle each other !”

‘““ Ay; and still they laugh and jest! The red drop
is at the heart of every one of them; and they are now



YHE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE. 57

gorging the fiendish principle with blood which they dare
not shed. Let us hence.”

It was with difficulty that the angel and his compa-
nion extricated themselves from the brutal multitude—
men who, seeming to snuff blood afar off, flock to see the
spark of life extinguished on the heart’s altar, and can
be kept back only by high prison walls or the glitter of
the bayonet. But at length they were free, and hastily
did they move away from the scene of retribution and
cruelty.

‘* Alas! for thy lost wings, my angel,” sighed Zillah,

when the frightful din had died away upon the ear.
* “* The Waters of Life are not here,” was the sorrow-
ful reply, ‘‘ not here in the midst of cruelty and blood ;
the heart of man is no better than at the beginning,
and—it is no worse. The doom is not yet written, the
book of good and evil is not yet sealed—how long! how
long !”

Another crowd now obstructed the way, swarming to
an immense edifice, some eager, some careless—trades-
met talking of the common business of the day, lawyers
mooting dubious points in wrangling tones, though usually
with courteous words, boys with shrill voices hawking
their various wares, and the rabble, as ever, jesting, laugh-
ing, and jostlng. Among the crowd were two persons
discussing the execution of that morning.

‘* They hurry the poor wretch into eternity unpre-
pared, as though he were a dog or an ox! It is barba-
rous!” said one.

‘* A relic of the dark ages,” observed his companion ;
‘‘ necessary in the infancy of time, when men were like

of



58 THE ANGEL'S PILGRIMAGE,

the beasts of the field, and could be restrained only by
the strong arm; but that philanthropic and enlightened
statesmen of the nineteenth century” —

His voice was lost to the ear of the angel, who had
pressed on eagerly to catch the sound; for after what he
had beheld that morning, the knowledge that the whole
human race was not intent on blood was grateful to him,

‘* Those men have pity—let us follow them,” he said
to Zillah.

‘‘ But they pity only the red hand,” was the reply ;
“‘ they said nothing of the bloody shroud, and the deso-
late hearth-stone.”

The two pilgrims pressed forward and entered at the
door of a spacious apartment which was crowded to over-
flowing. A row of venerable persons occupied cushioned
seats raised on a kind of dais at the extremity of a large
room. On one side of these sat twelve men in busy con-
ference, and on the other, a goodly number lolled over
tables covered with green baize cloth, some yawning, and
others biting the ends of their feather pens, or fastening
and unfastening them behind their ears. Two dark faces
glowered on each other immediately below the cushioned
seats ; and lower still, in a small square box, a person
leaned forward, balancing on his elbows, and now prying
into one face, and now another, with eyes which the
angel trembled but to look upon. At last the twelve men
rose, and a silence as of death brooded over that vast
multitude. A question was asked by a mild gray-haired
man from the dais, and a deep, heavy voice resounded
throughout the hall of justice, “Nor Guiry.” The
crowd cavght the sound, and peal on peal arose the



THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE. 59

deafening plaudits, the arched roof ringing back the
sound, pausing to catch it again, and then replying, as
though it had been a living voice answering from above.

‘¢ This is a proud triumph,” said a voice beside the
pilgrims.

‘¢ An innocent man, victim to some accident or slander-
ous tongue, doubtless,” returned the angel.

‘‘ No, no; a greater scoundrel never trod the soil!
never.”

‘‘ But he is innocent of this crime.”

‘He is guilty—stranger, guilty ; everything has con-
spired to prove it, and not a man in this room but is
morally convinced of the fact.”

‘¢ How, then, has he escaped ?”

‘¢ By the help of yon lawyer’s quibbles.”

‘‘ A partaker of his crimes, I suppose,” remarked the
angel,

‘He a partaker of his crimes! he, the most honourable
lawyer in the nation!”

‘‘T am a stranger,” remarked the angel, apologeti-
cally ; ‘¢and I would fain know why this honourable man
soils his soul for the sake of the guilty, and why you and
all this multitude rejoice to see crime go out from your
midst free to gather about itself still more filth and black-
ness.”

‘¢ We rejoice in the exercise of mercy,” returned the
stranger, |

‘¢¢Shall man then dare to shiver
The mystic golden bowl ?
Send back unto its Giver
The God-born deathless soul ?



60 fHE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE.

Shall he the frail spark smother,
All earth cannot re-light ?

His weak, sin-heavy brother
Cast from his holier right ?’

‘No, no! we are enlightened people, and the law of
blood is distasteful to us.”

‘Is then the law abolished among you?” inquired the
angel, somewhat anxiously.

‘‘ Not abolished; there are wolves and tigers still in
the land, and they cry for vengeance in the name of the
God of mercy.

‘** Ay, from earth the blood-stained banish,
Snatch away his little time ?
’ Tis noble sure to punish
By copying the crime!
Heap the sods upon his breast,
Crush him down in all his sin !’“—

“Woe, woe to such a bloodthirsty spirit! Thank
God, however, that the murderous iron rule is gradually
yielding to the voice of mercy, and the law of love is pre-
vailing. ‘ God is love.’”

‘* God is just!” echoed the angel, as he turned to de-
part.

‘* They disobey the express command of the Almighty,
given before the framing of the nations,” said Zillah,
‘‘ and bring an attribute of his own holy character as an
excuse,”

‘Their justice is cruel and heartless,” answered the
angel, ‘‘ and their mercy is weak and wicked. Love and
Justice wait hand in hand before the Great White Throne ;



THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE. 61

but these men cannot link them together, for their eyes
are darkened, and heavy clouds are gathered about their
souls. We need not search further, Zillah.”

‘* Nay, a little longer—a little longer,” pleaded the
soft voice; ‘ perchance they have a treasure, a talisman,
a seed of good which we have not yet discovered. I feel
that this distorted law of love has grown out of a holy
principle which may even now be swelling and bursting
from the rubbish. I will follow thee no longer, my
angel, for my heart is sick and my foot weary; but tread
thou these fearful paths, search thou for the hidden foun-
tain, and when thou hast gained a sprinkling of its waters,
fly to me and tell me time has ended. It is here, it is
somewhere here. I feel its life-giving presence.”

For many days and nights the angel wandered in dark
dens of wickedness, his purer nature quivering and
shrinking at the sounds of blasphemy. His foot followed
in the track of the crouching, prowling assassin; his ear
listened to the voice of the midnight robber ; the thief
brushed him as he crossed his path, and the vile, the
polluted of every grade, passed before his eyes like so many
demons of the pit. The air grew heavy with sin, and
clogged his breath ; his frame drooped, for there was a
weight upon it far heavier than fatigue could cast ; even
the rays of the sun struggled and grew ghastly in such
pollution, and the stars seemed red and blegged.

Then he turned to brighter scenes, scenes on which
the sun dared shine, not indeed in his first purity, clear
and soft like the light of Paradise, but with a wild bril-
liance, which, while it dazzled the eyes, and withered the
young plants that the dews neglected to visit, bore yet a



62 THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE,

fair promise of seed-time and harvest, day and night, to
the hearts of men.

But even here was the villain’s heart mantled in hy-
pocrisy ; here prowled the disguised wolf; here towered
the beauitful marble above reeking bones and the foul
mould of Death. In this brave light Revenge stalked up
and down, an honourable and an honoured guest. Here
Avarice spread a yellow crust upon the heart, which
burned in, and seared, and grew thicker, and gnawed at
every chord that might have sounded a tuneful cadence,
still increased in thickness till there was no power to
resist ii from within; and then from the fearful gan-
grene sprang a brood of crimes, all veiled indeed, all
proper and legal, which made the angel recoil as from the
less refined but scarce blacker ones that swarmed the
dens he had left. Here too lurked fair Envy smiling and
flattering, until she could place her foot upon the victim’s
head, and then down! crush! crush!—no pity, no re-
morse. Nay; why should mortal head dare rise higher
than hers! Among flowers of the richest fragrance and
brightest hue coiled Scandal; and when her serpent hiss
rose upon the air, the flowers drooped, and their per-
fume was mingled with her noisome breath.

‘Tt is all in vain—all in vain!” sighed the angel, as
he returned again to his companion. ‘ The heart of
man remainsgthe same as when this now degraded hand
wielded the sword which guarded the gate of Eden ;
dark thoughts, violent. passions, wicked imaginings, all
lurk within him, all are fostered and cherished in his
bosom. And yet, my Zillah, there is something, or the
foreshadowing of something—a veiled star, a pale light



THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE. 63

fringing the cloud, a low murmur as from the concealed
fountain, a breath of pure air ever and anon stirring the
seared leaves, and passing over the pulses of my soul.
There is something, Zillah, which had well nigh made me
hear the rustle of my own wings, and fixed my eyes on
Paradise. I cannot tell what it is, but I feel it—I feel
it.”

‘Even so do I,” returned the fair Zillah ; “* and for
that was it that I chose this spot. I have builded me
an altar, and here, my angel, have I worshipped while
thou has been seeking.”

‘I have sought in vain—all in vain,” returned the
angel mournfully ; ‘* Oh! when will the end be?”

‘** And then shall the end come!’” answered a deep
melodious voice, which made Zillah start, and the angel
open his large, mild, mournful eyes in wonder.

The figure that stood beside them might have risen from
the shivering piles of withered leaves which the wantoning
night-wind had thrown up in heaps along the plain; or
shaped itself from the mist that dangled in long gray
wreaths from the tops of chimneys, hovered in great sha-
dowy wings around silent windows, or rolled up, fold on
fold, like an ominous curtain from the reeking earth. It
was that of a man, but not such as walk the world in mo-
dern times, His beard was parted upon the lip, and
descended, a mass of waving silver, to the girdle ; and
long floating locks, like the snow in whiteness, shaded his
scarce wrinkled brow, beneath which looked out a pair of
eyes as soft, mild, blue and dewy, as the sky of a summer
evening. The angel felt his heart irresistibly drawn
back to the time when he was sinless, for there was some-



64 THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE.

thing pure and spirit-like upon the face of the stranger,
which, though it lacked the loftiness of a brother angel,
was yet so beautiful, so meek, and so full of love, that the
highest seraph would scarce have lost by the exchange.
He was evidently old, very old; but it was such age as
the father of our race might have exhibited, when eight
centuries had passed over him and left him still unscathed.
His voice was deep, strong, and mellifluous ; his eye un-
dimmed ; his cheek full, though lacking somewhat the
roundness of youth; his lip ruddy, his frame muscular
and erect, and his foot firm. Still he was old—that
could not be doubted; but Time had never touched him
with palsied finger ; no blight had reached sinew, or brain,
or heart, and every year that had passed over him had
brought new strength and vigour.

*** And then shall the end come!’” he repeated in
fervid tones; while a deep enthusiasm kindled in every |
feature a voiceless eloquence.

‘¢ When, father ?” inquired the angel reverently.

‘¢ ‘When the commandment shall have been obeyed,—
when the work is accomplished ””—

‘¢ What commandment? what work? Are we to
search? to dig? If thou knowest where this fountain
flows, tell me, oh, tell me! I will climb the most inac-
cessible rock, I will penetrate the cave where sleeps the
deadliest miasma, with my single hand I will open a
passage to the core of the earth—only tell me where to
seek, and I will ask no more.”

The stranger fixed a wondering and yet benign glance
upon the perturbed countenance of the angel. ‘+ And
dost thou not know ?”



THE ANGEL'S PILGRIMAGE. 65

‘No, no; but tell me, and I will bless thee for ever !”

‘¢ Nay, bless Him—Him! Surely thou hast heard of
the Glorious Ransom ?” ’

“ I have heard,” whispered the angel, in deep awe,
“ but it was THERE ; and even our harps and voices were
silent. I dare not speak of that where the air is so heavy
with the weight of earth’s defilements. And it can never
come to me.”

“To thee! there is not a human being”—

‘ Nay, nay, old man ; thou dost not understand thine
own words, But tell me of the end. I see something
upon thy forehead unlike the brand of thy miserable race,
and I think the golden secret lies in thy bosom. I would
fain know when this weary pilgrimage will be finished.”

The venerable ancient fixed his penetrating eye for a
moment on his companion, whispering to himself, ‘¢ And
he too! it cannot be! I thought myself alone !” and
then, evidently puzzled, though more than pleased to
recite a story in which his whole soul was interested, he
commenced—

‘« Kighteen hundred years ago Rome was at the height
of her glory. All the principal nations of the earth owned
her sway and gloried in their bondage. ‘The redder
forms of tyranny had departed. ‘The brow of Octavius
Augustus was mild beneath his crown ; while under the
patronage of the wise Mecenas, and by the taper of Gre-
cian genius, the loftiest forms of art were born and flou-
rished. ‘The voice of eloquence sounded in the forum ;
the flowers of poesy budded and blossomed in palace and
in cot; life sprang from the silent marble ; the canvass

glowed, and Philosophy linked arms with Pleasure, and
E



66 THE ANGEL’s PILGRIMAGE,

wandered about her sacred groves, or dallied in her luxu-
rious gardens, But He was not a Roman. On her proud
brow the Queen of the Nations wore the half-crushed
chaplet of Grecian liberty; a beautiful wreath dropping
with the matchless perfume which still lingers around her
broken columns and crumbling arches, around the spiri-
tual ideal breathing in the creations of her artists, and
around the graves of her philosophers, her poets, and her
statesmen. But He was not of Greece. In one proud
hand Rome held a jewel unequalled in gorgeousness, a
golden lotus gathered from the banks of the Nile, and
now crimsoned by the blood of the beautiful and perfi-
dious Cleopatra ; and in the other she clasped a rude but
strong and valuable chain, whose rough links bore the
names of Gaul, Germany, and Switzerland. But Hz came
from none of these.

‘* The mistress of the world felt quivering beneath her
sandalled foot, and pressed more closely as it quivered, a
strange nation, with strange laws, strange customs, and a
strange religion ; despised alike by the Roman, the Greek,
and the Egyptian; small in territory, divided within itself,
weak in arms, and learned but in its own laws. This was
the once favoured nation of the Jews, Jerusalem, fallen,
degraded, enslaved, still bore some traces of ancient
splendour. There stood the Holy Temple, though dese-
crated by Mammon ; the children of the prophets still
gathered in their synagogues; and the proud Pharisee
swept in his fringed garments from the council-chamber
to the altar, lounged on rich cushions, and quaffed the
blood of the grape from goblets of massive gold and richly
chased silver. But Hx claimed not his home in Jerusalem,



THE ANGEL'S PILGRIMAGE. 67

In Galilee, m despised, contemned Galilee, and not its
fairest city—not Capernaum, not Cana—but in poor,
mean, hated, contemptible Nazareth—there sprang the
Fountain of life ; there, from that dark, unknown corner,
from that smallest, most degraded city of the most de-
graded quarter of the earth, Hx, the Mighty One, the
King of Glory, walked forth, and named himself the Son
of Man, the Saviour of a fallen, helpless, miserable race.”

‘¢ I know Him—I know Him,” murmured the angel,
bending his knee and shading his brow with his hand.
‘‘ Go on,” he added after a moment’s pause; “* go on;
tell me more; it cannot reach me, but—my poor Zillah !
—tell me all.”

‘‘ He sought meanness of origin and poverty, not be-
cause there was virtue in these, but for the sake of the
lowly poor,” continued the stranger, his cheek glowing
and his eye lighting excitement of his theme. ‘“‘ His
mother was the betrothed bride of a poor carpenter ; his
cradle was in a stable—His, the sovereign Prince of the
Universe! But a choir of angels came to rouse the earth
to sing his welcome; a new star was set upon the brow
of night, and in its light the magii of the East, the philo-
sophers of the Persian court, bent in worship to the clay-
shrined God; and a haughty monarch so trembled in
his kingly purple, when he heard of the obscure infant,
that hundreds of tiny graves were opened, each stained
by the blood of the helpless and moistened by a mother’s
tears.”

“Go on! go on!” whispered the angel.

‘¢ The humble Nazarene put on the tasselled robe of a
teacher ; but he turned not to the palace for his disciples,



68 . THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE.

nor lingered he by the proud door of the Sanhedrim. He
wandered by the lone Galilean lake; he sought those
places where men never look for honour, calling the un-
lettered and the lowly to his side; the ignorant fisherman
from his nets, and the despised publican from his scrip :
and yet this obscure man, with these humble followers,
stirred at once proud, pompous J ewry to her centre.
He toiled and suffered, toiled and suffered, and wept,
and then he died, as none but malefactors ever died
before.”

The old man paused in his story, as though too much
agitated to proceed; while the angel echoed in mingled
awe and surprise, ‘‘ He died! He could not die!”

‘‘ Hle—he was borne to his sepulchre,” continued the
meek ancient ; ‘‘ but the grave could not hold the Son of
God. He died for us, he rose for us, and he waits us at
the right hand of his Father.”

There was a long, unbroken, almost breathless silence,
—Zillah bending forward in meek awe, her brow pressed
to the altar, the face of the angel buried reverentially in
his folded arms, and the patriarch standing with upraised
eye and clasped hands, his face glowing with love and
rapture,

‘‘ And the ransomed—when will He call them home?”
at last the angel inquired.

‘They drop into the grave at morning, in the blaze
of day, and at midnight ; every eur, every moment—
even now, while we speak, some freed spirit is passing,
and there are snowy wings that hover at the portal of
death to bear it away to Paradise.”

‘‘ But when will He call all? when will the end be?”
inquired the angel, with tremulous eagerness.

*



THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE. 69

‘‘ Thou wouldst know when will arise the cry of the
angel, ‘ Thrust in thy sharp sickle, and gather the ~—
of the vine of the earth; for her grapes are fully ripe.’
But futurity has the secret hidden deep in the folds of
her misty robes, and neither man nor angel may rob her
of the treasure. Yet, my son, I can give thee the key,
and if ”—

Quick! quick!”

“He told us—He—He taught.’ The old man
paused, composed his features, and resumed: “ To those
disciples called from the wayside, from the boat of the
fisherman and lowly roof of the labourer, rude, unlettered,
and of no repute among men, whose hands had never
touched the soft palm of the Pharisee, and whose voices
had learned to tremble and falter in such an august pre-
sence—to these lowest of the sons of this world, He con-
fided the wealth of heaven, such rare jewels of truth as
never before glittered beneath the stars; and these
humble, unknown men He commissioned to bear their
treasures to all the nations of the earth. At Jerusalem
they began, and tower and temple trembled to their deep
foundations, ‘Thence they scattered their living pearls
over hill and vale, far and wide, wherever the foot of
man had trodden or lay the stain of sin.

‘‘ Even Grecian philosophy bent her polished ear when
a follower of the Crucified stood in one of the proudest
courts of Athens, and Epicurean and Stoic were alike
confounded by the simple but sublime eloquence of truth.
Rome, too, proud Rome acknowledged the still small
voice which had stolen up from far Nazareth ; but when she
strove to honour it with purple and crimson, the voice died

“sr
s

“t



70 THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE.

among the caves and dens of the wilderness; the jewel
receded from her grasp while she placed its blazing
semblance on her forehead ; and all Europe bowed the
knee to the falsehood. But while in the name of the
crucified Nazarene, who trod the earth in sadness and
dishonour, the princes of the earth drew the lance, and
knight and noble paved the way to his own emolument ;
while war and carnage ran riot throughout Christendom,
and Jew and Saracen were taught to despise the religion
which turned men into beasts of prey and deformed the
face of creation ; from distant caves and lowly valleys the
meek voice of prayer still arose, and still the casket of
the jewels of truth was the human heart. Through the
red blood flowing at the mandate of Egyptian priest and
Roman pontiff; through the crevices of the rocks of
Switzerland, the hidden nooks environing the valley of
Piedmont, the republican plains of Germany, and the
wild, picturesque mountains of Scotland; through wrong
without ruth, through the dungeon and the rack, through
bloody knife and blazing faggot, these jewels of truth,
these Waters of Life, have been borne ””—

‘And now! where are they now?” interrupted the
angel, with almost vehement earnestness.

“Dost thou see yon church-spire, piercing the gray
mist, and glittering in the one pale ray which the moon
sheds from her veiled throne? Go thither and love, and
raise thy wings heavenward. Or here,”’ lifting the folds
of his robe and disclosing a small volume; ‘here the
Waters spring ; here the Tree of Life flourishes, Search |
thou wilt find its blossoms on every page.”’

“Not for me! Alas! not or me!” murmured the



THE ANGEL'S PILGRIMAGE. 71

angel; while Zillah, raising her forehead from the altar
where it had rested, and extending her hands, eagerly
exclaimed, ‘‘For me! for me! to fit me for the day
when thy wings, my angel, shall be full of glory that we
may mount together to the throne of the Eternal. But,
father, I would fain know when that may be. We are
to tread the earth until that hour.”

‘‘ And I,’”’ returned the ancient, ‘‘have the same pil-
grimage before me.”

‘¢ But when, oh when shall it be accomplished ? ”

‘‘ Not until every altar like this thou hast reared shall
be cast down.”

Zillah raised a startled eye to the face of the patriarch,
and cast herself precipitately before the altar.

‘‘ What! have I not told thee that the Great Sacrifice
has been offered, and may not my testimony be believed ?
Did I not stand beside the cross, and, while bidden to
tarry till a second coming, see the sinless victim bleed?
What wouldst thou more? Canst thou not make the
sacrifice thine own? Faith and love alone are required of
thee—wilt thou not believe ? ”

Zillah remained still meekly bending before the altar,
but her thoughts had risen far above it. The light of
truth was slowly breaking over her countenance, illumi-
nating each feature with a deep, subdued enthusiasm,
till the frail, beautiful daughter of earth seemed to bear
more traces of heaven than the exiled angel.

“‘ Every false altar must be cast down,” continued the
ancient; ‘the commandment must be obeyed; the
Fountain of Life must gush forth in the midst of every
people ; the jewels of truth, borne through suffermg and



72 THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE.

blood till nearly half the world acknowledges their beauty,
must be scattered freely over every portion of the globe,
and far above the standards of the nations must float the
banner of the Crucified—He that was God, was man,
and is the God of glory henceforth and for ever. The
mighty work intrusted to us at that holy parting moment
must be accomplished, ‘and then shall the end come.’ ”

‘‘T too will go forth upon this holy mission,” said
Zillah, bowing her head meekly ; ‘‘ perchance my weak
hand may be blest, since to all that share in the salvation
has the sweet work been intrusted.” |

‘‘And I cannot loiter here,” returned the angel,
‘though I have forfeited my right to be in any way a
ministering spirit to the race. Go thou, my Zillah, and
I will hover in thy footsteps, I will nurse the flowers thou
lovest, and scatter their perfume in thy pathway, When
evil is near, I will shield thy loved head. I will watch by
thy side during the remainder of this fearful night ; and
when the morning at last dawns, thou shalt know its ap-
proach by the ray which falls upon thy angel’s renovated
pinions. To the work, my Zillah; it is one which will
ennoble even thee,” |

The mild old man smiled; and I almost fancied that I
saw something stirring at the side of the angel, as though
every fresh consecration of ransomed mortal brought
nearer the hour of triumph; and then the entire vision
vanished.

I was leaning from my window as an hour previous ;
but the little girl stood no longer upon the bridge, and
Strawberry Hill and the hoary gld trees above it were
slumbering in soft summer shadows. The moon, now a



THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE. 73

soft silver crescent, had climbed far up her azure path-
way, and lay a sweet smile upon the face of the sky, and
the earth was smiling back a beautiful response in every
dew-drop. For a moment I thought the creatures of my
drama were about me, but in the next I knew that Zillah
and her angel were born of the wildest fiction; and that
the ashes of the beloved disciple, if not mingled with the
farthest elements, still slept at Ephesus. But much, very
much, had mingled in my thoughts in which dreaming
had no part. And as I carefully separated the threads
of fiction that had entangled themselves in the richer woof
of truth, I longed to exclaim, in the words of my fabulous
Zillah, ‘I too will go forth upon this holy mission |”



LILIAS FANE.

AxoutT five miles from Alderbrook there is a handsome
red school-house, with a portico in front, shaded by an
immense butternut ; white window-shutters to keep out
rogues at night, but of no use at all during the day ; and
a handsome cupola, in which is a bell of sufficient power
to be heard, particularly on still days, all over the dis-
trict. This specimen of architecture, being intended to
serve the double purpose of church and school-house, is
the pride of the little community; and, indeed, it well
may be, for there is not its equal in the whole country
round. When the school-house was first built, the neigh-
bours all resolved to support a ‘first-rate school ;” and
for many years they employed teachers who came well re-
commended, and claimed a large salary. Squire Mason
said no pains were spared,—everything was done that
man could do; yet, somehow, no teacher seemed to give
general satisfaction ; and so many left, either in indigna-
tion or disgrace, that ‘‘ the Mason school” gained the re-
putation of being the most ungovernable in the county.
If truth must be told, this was not without reason; for
people who build new school-houses must, of course, listen
to new doctrines, and most of the families in ‘‘ the Mason

,district” had imbibed somewhat extensively the notions
% »

_9&



LILIAS FANE. 75

prevalent among reformers of the present day, who think
that Solomon was only joking when he recommended the
rod. At last, after some renegade youngsters had sum-
marily dismissed, with a broken head, a dark, square-
shouldered, piratical looking man, who, in a fit of despe-
ration, had been chosen for his enormous strength, people
became quite discouraged, and the principal meny of the
district, old farmer Westborn, Mr Martin, and Squire
Mason, called a meeting to discuss affairs. Some pro-
posed whipping all the boys round, and commencing a
new school; others thought it best to shut up the house
entirely, and set the young rebels to cutting wood ; while
Mr Martin was of opinion that if some af the ‘ worst
ones ” could be kept at home, there would be no diffi-
culty with the rest. Upon this hint others spake ; and
the meeting at last decided on obtaining a female teacher
to take charge of the little ones, the “ big boys ” being
entirely voted out. Squire Mason himself had a son who
was considered a “rollicking blade,” up to all sorts of
mischief; and of the half-dozen shock-headed Westborns,
there was not one that had failed to give the former mas-
ter blow for blow. Affairs were, however, now to assume
a calmer aspect ; and the meeting proceeded forthwith
to appoint a school-committee, consisting of Mr Martin,
who had no children of his own, and was consequently ex-
pected to take a great interest in those of his neighbours ;
Mr Fielding, a quiet bachelor of thirty-five or thereabout;
and one or two others, who were selected for the sake of
making the numbers strong, and not for anything that they
were expected to do. ‘The principal duty of the acting
part of the committee was to obtain a teacher ; but they

‘es
os



76 LILIAS FANE.

were also to manage all other affairs thereunto pertain-
ing.

Luckily a lady had been recommended to Mr Martin,
during the preceding autumn, as a perfect prodigy ; and,
as our school-committee men were quiet sort of people,
who did not like to make unnecessary trouble, a letter,
superscribed ‘* Miss Lilias Fane,” was thrown into the
post-office box, which, in due time, brought as favourable
an answer as could be desired.

It was a cold stormy morning in December, when the
public stage-coach set down the new school-mistress at
the door of Mr Martin’s house. A bundle of cloaks and
blankets rolled from the opened door into the hands of
the good deacon, who was obliged to support, indeed
almost to carry, an invisible form into the house, where
his good dame stood ready to divest it of all unneces-
sary incumbrances. At first, a large blanket was re-
moved, then muff and cloak, and yet shawl, hood, and
veil remained; and Mrs Martin could not help con-
jecturing how precious must be the nut which way
blessed with so much shell. The task of untying strings
and removing pins being accomplished, a volume of flaxen
ringlets descended over a pair of tiny white shoulders,
and a soft blue eye stole timidly from its silken ambush
up to the face of Mrs Martin ; but meeting no sympathy
there, it retreated behind the drooping lid; and little
Miss Fane, blushing up to the pretty flaxen waves that just
shaded her forehead, smiled, and curtsied, and then
crouched by the blazing fire like a petted kitten. Mrs
Martin retreated involuntarily ; and Mr Martin parted his
lips, drew up his eye-brows, and shrugged his shoulders,



LILIAS FANE, 77

between astonishment and contempt. What! that child
assume the duties and responsibilities of a school-teacher,
and, above all, in such a school! Why, Susan Harman
could put her out of the door with one hand, and the
very littlest boy overmaster her. ‘There sat the new
schoolmistress, and there stood the deacon and his dame,
gazing at her, perfectly speechless, when Mr Fielding
drove up to the door; it being considered his especial
duty to introduce new teachers, and particularly lady
teachers, to the school-house. Now the bachelor had
some very fine notions of tall, elegant figures, and digni-
fied manners ; indeed, he had a rule for everything, step-
ping, looking, and even thinking ; and consequently, he
was taken quite by surprise when his eye first lighted on
the unpretending little schoolmistress. Her figure was
slight, and exceedingly fragile, and her face the very per-
fection of infantile sweetness. This was all that Mr
Fielding had an opportunity to observe, as she stood before
him in graceful confusion, replying to his very formal
salutation, and answering his still more formal questions
about the weather, the state of the roads, and the time
of her arrival. 'The bachelor, however, was confident
that Miss Fane was a very incompetent school-teacher ;
and Miss Fane was quite as confident that the bachelor
was a very incompetent beau. First, he gave her what
the little lady considered an impertinent stare, as a
school-committee-man has a right to do; then he made
a great many commonplace remarks, as a man that
wishes to appear very dignified will do; and then he
desired to see Mr Martin in private, as a man when he
wishes to let you know that he is about to discuss your



78 LILIAS FANE.

character should do. Poor Lilias Fane! with all her
simplicity she was not deficient in discernment, and she
felt piqued at the manners of the people, particularly Mr
Fielding, whose real superiority she instantly detected,
despite of the clumsy awkwardness behind which he
managed to hide himself, So, tossing back her sunny
curls, and calling for hood and shawi, in spite of all Mrs
Martin’s entreaties to the contrary, she was half-way to
the school-house before the gentlemen decided that they
could do nothing less than give her a trial. It was
with the utmost surprise that the bachelor heard of the
flight of his bonny bird; for he was the greatest man in
the district, and every one was but too much delighted
to gain his notice. He owned a fine cottage close by
the Maple Grove, with beautiful grounds about it, and
every elegance that wealth could command and taste dic-
tate within; and there he resided, with his mother and
a little nephew, in very enviable quiet. It was evident
that his knowledge of the world was thorough, and he
had probably, at some period of his life, taken a part in
its tumult ; but the retirement of private life best suited
him, and he had for several years buried the most per-
fect specimen of a gentleman of the old school extant
among the rural luxuries of Grove Cottage. Here, how-
ever, none of the punctilios, on which he set so high a
value, were omitted, for he was too thoroughly a gentle-
man to throw aside the character when behind the scenes ;
and all honoured him for his strict integrity, as well as
' intellectual superiority. Mr Fielding had not a particle
of misanthropy in his composition ; so, notwithstanding a
secret touch of exclusive feeling, arising probably from a



LILIAS FANE. 79

vonsciousness of possessing but little in common with
those around him, he mingled with the people of the
neighbourhood as though nothing but a certain degree of
coldness and personal dignity prevented him from being
on a perfect equality with them; and he exhibited so
much real interest in all that concerned their welfare,
that he possessed their entire confidence.

When Mr Fielding learned that the little lady had
gone away alone, he looked surprised ; but recollecting
how bashful she had appeared when standing in his august
presence, he at once saw the matter in a more pleasing
light ; so, calling on Mr Martin to bestow his burly cor-
pus in the seat intended for pretty Lilias Fane, the two
committee-men proceeded leisurely toward the school-
house.

In the meantime poor Lilias was trudging through the
snow, her nether lip pouting after the most approved
style of angry beauties, and her little heart throbbing with
a variety of contending emotions, none of which were ac-
tually pleasurable, except the one excited by a little pile
of silver which she saw in prospect—the fruit of her own
labour. At thought of this, she brushed away the tear
that sparkled on her lashes, and, drawing up her slight
figure with an air of determination, stepped boldly and
decidedly into the portico, and placed her hand on the
latch of the door. ‘This done, she paused ; the little
heart, but a moment before so resolute, fluttered tumul-
tuously ; the head drooped, the eyes brimmed over, and
the fingers extended so firmly, now quivered with agita-
tion. Poor Lilias Fane! what would she not have given



80 LILIAS FANE.

to feel her mother’s arms about her, and weep on her
sympathizing bosom ?

Farmer Westborn, and Squire Mason, and the rest of
the school-meeting men, were in earnest when they decid-
ed that the ‘‘ big boys” should not be allowed to attend
school ; but they had been in earnest a great many times
before ; so the boys knew perfectly well what it meant,
and were now on hand, preparing for the reception of the
new teacher. Little did poor Lilias Fane imagine what
stout hearts awaited her entrance, or her courage would
not have been prompt to return; but the thought of
home, her widowed mother, and helpless little brothers
and sisters, in connection with the all-important salary,
nerved her up. Again she erected her head and wiped
away the tears ; then, throwing open the door, she walk-
ed quietly and firmly into the room. What a spectacle!
children of all sizes, from the little aproned chap, hardly
yet from the cradle, up to the height of the new school-
mistress, and youths towering far above her, in almost the
pride of manhood, turned their faces toward the door,
and stood gaping in silent astonishment. There were
Susan Harman, and Sally Jones, and Nabby Woods, all
older than the schoolmistress, and several others who
were larger ; and at the extremity of the room stood Al-
fred Mason, a man in size if not in form, surrounded by
the six shock-headed Westborns, Bill Blount, Philip Clute,
and Nehemiah Strong, all school rowdies of the first wa-
ter. Well might they stare, for such a vision never met
their eyes before ; and well might bright Lilias smile at
the looks of wonder that greeted her at every turn. A
smile, if it is a perfectly natural one, full of mirthfulness,

4



LILIAS FANE. 81

and slightly spiced with mischief, is the best of all pass-
ports to a young heart ; and not a face was there in the
whole room but caught the infection, and answered with
a bashful grin the twinkle of the little maiden’s eye and
the curl of her lip. Oh! sadly did naughty Lilias com-
promise the dignity of the schoolmistress ; but what she
lost in one respect was more than made up in another.
Nabby Woods went about brushing the slippery dried
peas from the floor, lest the smiling fairy of a new school-
dame should be made their victim, as had been duly
planned for a week beforehand ; and Philip Clute, first
glancing at Alfred Mason for approbation, stepped awk-
wardly forward and put a whole chair in the place of the
broken one that had been stationed before the desk for the
benefit of the new teacher ; thus making himself the first
to receive her cheerful salutation. Philip had never been
known to shrink before birchin rod or cherry ferule ; but
Lilias Fane, with her merry blue eye and face full of kind-
ness and gentleness, half-hidden in the mirthful dimples
which played over it—sweet Lilias Fane was a different
thing. She could not be looked upon with indifference,
and poor Philip twisted himself into as many shapes as a
cloud-wreath in a tempest, or a captured eel, and turned
as red as the blood-beets in his father’s cellar. On pass-
ed the bright-faced Lilias around the room, nodding to
one, smiling to another, and addressing some cheerful
remark to those who seemed a little afraid of her, until
she reached the group over which the redoubtable Mason
presided. By this time she had gained all hearts; for
hadn’t she said we, when talking to the “big girls,” as

though she didn’t feel herself a bit above them? and
F



82 LILIAS FANE.

hadn’t she patted the heads of the younger ones with
her pretty little hand, in a way which proved beyond the
possibility of a doubt that she was a decided enemy to
hairpulling? Alfred Mason had seen it all; and to prove
to the new schoolmistress that he was a little superior to
the Westborns & Co., he advanced three steps and made
a bow as much like Mr Fielding’s as he could. This
done, he passed his fingers through his shining black hair,
twitched his shirt-collar, and elevated head and shoulders
after a very manly fashion, as though silently resolving
not to be afraid of anything this side of fairy land, though
appearing in the shape of a Titania herself. But be-
witching, roguish, naughty Miss Fane did bewilder him
notwithstanding ; for having always considered himself a
rascally scape-grace of a boy, bound to do as much mis-
chief as he could, he suddenly found himself transformed
into a man; and a beautiful creature, with a child’s
blushes and a woman’s smiles, asking him questions in
the most respectful tone, hoping that she should be se-
conded by the young gentlemen before her in all her
efforts, and insinuating, very gracefully and very sweetly,
how much she relied upon them for success in her present
undertaking. The smile, the tone of voice, the manner,
combined with the flattering address, were perfectly ir-
resistible ; and Alfred Mason, after perpetrating another
bow, addressed a few whispered words to his companions,
and walked away to aseat. His example was immediate-
ly followed by the whole school, and Miss Fane was left
standing in the midst of subjects as loyal as any sovereign
would care to reign over, At this agreeable crisis the
door opened, and it may well be believed that in every



LILIAS FANE. 83

dimple of Lilias Fane’s young face lurked a roguish smile,
as her eye lighted on Mr Fielding and Mr Martin.
The bachelor observed it, and he was “the least bit in the
world” disconcerted, while Mr Martin raised his eye-brows
and shrugged his shoulders more emphatically than ever,
but not contemptuously. If the two committee-men
had been astonished before, they were doubly so now;
and it was with a much more respectful air than he had
at first assumed, that Mr Fielding saluted the little lady,
and apologized for his previous neglect.

‘You have undertaken avery heavy task, Miss
Fane,” he remarked, in a tone which, from the proxi-
mity of the audience on the seats, was necessarily low,
and thus seemingly confidential.

‘thoughtless Lilias! she shook her head and smiled.
“Tt is a dreadful responsible station,” chimed in Mr
Martin.

A shade of seriousness flitted over the face of Lilias,
and then she smiled again.

‘Qur school is considered a very difficult one,” ob-
served the bachelor.

“I apprehend no difficulty at all,” Lilias replied, in a
tone of gaiety.

‘But, Miss Fane,” persisted Mr Martin, “it is my
duty to undeceive you as to the character of our school.”
Still the little lady smiled confidently. ,

“Very difficult to manage, I can assure you,” added
the bachelor.

Lilias glanced around the room with a triumphant,
incredulous air, as much as to say, ‘‘ It seems to me just
the easiest thing in the world,” (the saucy little gipsy:)



84 LILIAS FANE.

—but she did not say it. Her only reply was to beg
the privilege of consulting two such able advisers, should
she chance to meet with unexpected difficulties. Mr
Martin received the compliment graciously, not probably
observing a touch of sarcasm, more discoverable in the
dancing blue eye than in the voice; but Mr Fielding
looked displeased, bowed stiffly, and, after a few formal
words, took his leave, followed by Mr Martin.

‘¢ T shouldn’t wonder,” remarked the latter, after they
were a little way off, —‘‘ I shouldn’t wonder if this little
Miss Fane made a pretty good teacher after all. It’s
wonderful that the children should be so orderly this
morning.”

Mr Fielding gave his head a twitch, something be-
tween a shake and a nod, and looked knowing. It was
evident that he could say a great deal if he chose. This
non-committal movement is Wisdom’s favourite cloak; and
so much in vogue is it, that it sometimes even passes
current when the cloaked is missing.

For that day at least Lilias Fane was happy. She
smiled and was smiled upon. And she began to think it
was just the pleasantest thing in the world to be the pre-
siding genius of such a place, exercising uncontrolled
power, dispensing smiles and sunshine at will, beloved
and loving. But her day of darkness was to come.
Scarce a week had passed before there were indications
of a revolt among some of her subjects; and she was
alarmed to find that there were difficulties which a smile
and a loving word could not heal. At home, her dear
delightful home, she had been taught to believe them a
universal balm—oil for the wildest wave, a hush for the

,



LILIAS FANE. 85

deadliest tempest. But yet, never was schoolmistress
idolized like darling Lilias Fane. Even the hearts of the
Westborns began to melt beneath the glances of her
beaming eye, and Alfred Mason was her never-failing
friend and champion. Poor AlfMason! Sad was the
reputation he bore in the district ; and nobody would
believe he was in earnest when he behaved properly; but
he was in reality more given to mirth than malice, fonder
of fun than real mischief—and he could see no fun at all
in annoying sweet Miss Fane, But she was annoyed
nevertheless, not so much by her pupils, as by remarks
which were constantly reaching her concerning her youth,
inexperience, and consequent inefficiency. It was said
that see was a child among the children ; and so she was,
but how could she help it—the bright pet Lilias! Scarce
sixteen summers had burnished her fair locks, and her
heart was full of childish impulses. It was said that
she had no dignity of manner, and stood among her pu-
pils as one of them—faults which she was but too con-
scious of possessing. As well might you look for dignity
in a humming-bird or a fawn, as in Lilias Fane—the
darling! She loved her pupils dearly, and could not
but betray her interest. She had too many sympathies
in common with them to stand aloof in joy or sorrow ;
and in the loved and the loving. were merged the teacher
and the taught. It was even said that her voice had
been known to mingle in the merry shout that sometimes
arose from the school-room; and there must have been
some truth in the report ; for her pupils could not have
had the heart to laugh when she was serious. In truth,
Lilias Fane was a strange teacher ; though she may have



86 LILIAS FANE.

taught the lore most needed—those heart-lessons, richer
than all the theories of all the schools united. In her
other lessons she was capricious. She taught what she
loved, and that she made her pupils love ; but what was
dry and difficult she passed over, as in studying she had
been allowed to do by her too indulgent governess. Yet
she was unwearied in her efforts, and never thought of
self when the good of her pupils was concerned ; and so,
despite the faults in her system of education, her school
made rapid improvement. But no degree of improve-
ment was sufficient to satisfy those who detected these
faults; and soon the war of words ran high for and
against the poor schoolmistress, whose only offences were
too much beauty, too immature youth, and a too kind
heart. These things could not occur without Miss Fane's
knowledge ; for her young friends, in their mistaken zeal,
repeated every word to her, and she (poor simple-hearted _
child!) was undignified to listen to their representations,
and receive their expressions of sympathy. They were
all the friends she had. Thus passed one-third of Lilias
Fane’s term of service in alternate storm and sunshine,
till at last farmer Westborn took a decided step ; and,
in spite of young shock-heads’ remonstrances, removed all
of his six children from school. Sad was the face poor
Lilias Fane exhibited on this occasion; and all of her
flock were sad from sympathy. Looks, some of sorrow,
and some of indignation, were exchanged among the
elder pupils; and the younger ones gazed in silent won-
der on the flushed face and tearful eye of her who, never-
theless, would now and then give them a smile, from sheer
habit. At last the day ended, and sad, and low, and



LILIAS FANE. 87

kinder even than usual, were the good-nights of the
sympathizing group, as, one by one, they disappeared
through the door, till the poor little school-mistress was

left alone ; and then she covered her face with her hands
and wept.

‘“¢ T wouldn’t mind it, Miss Fane,” said a timid but
sympathizing voice close by her ear.

“ How can I help it, Alfred?” asked weeping Lilias,
without raising her head; ‘‘Mr Westborn must have a
sad opinion of me, or he never —”

‘Mr Westborn is a fool! the meanest man —”

“© Alfred 1”

‘¢ You don’t know him, Miss Fane, or you would say
so too. But don’t cry any more—don’t ; come over and
see Mary—you have true friends, Miss Fane—you—
they —” and here Alfred stopped short; for, although
particularly anxious to console Miss Fane, he seemed to
be suffering under a most painful embarrassment. The
gentle, indeed touching tone of voice was not lost on poor
Lilias ; although there seemed to be some reason why she
should not listen to it ; for she raised her head, and, with
more calmness than she could have been expected to com-
mand, replied, ‘‘ You are very kind, Alfred, and I thank
you, but —”

‘‘T understand you, Miss Fane,” interrupted the
youth, somewhat proudly; “‘ kindness should not be too
obtrusive.”

‘© No, Alfred, you mistake me. I prize the sympathy
of my friends but too highly ; and it is gratifying to know
that all my pupils, if no others, are of the number.”



&

88 LILIAS FANE.

“‘ Yes, they all are—yet—Miss—Miss Fane —” and
Alfred stammered on, more embarrassed than ever.

‘‘ T can assure them that their kindness will be remem-
bered most gratefully, and their friendship warmly re-
turned,” added Miss Fane, with a gentle dignity, which
prevented familiarity, while it soothed.

Alfred Mason stood for a few moments irresolute, and
Lilias resumed. ‘* To you, in particular, Alfred, am I
deeply indebted. You have defended me in my absence;

assisted me in school, both by your example and counsel ;

and have performed the thousand little services which
have contributed thus far to make my time here among
strangers pass so agreeably. I shall never forget you,
kind, generous friend that you are! And Mary, too—
my own brother and sister could not have watched more
carefully over my comfort and happiness. I have much
to say to you of this, but not now. To-night I have sub-
jects of thought less pleasant, and must be alone.”

‘‘T shouldn't like to trouble you, Miss Fane, but I
came to tell you there is to be a school-meeting to-night.
Oh, how I wish I were a man! in influence, I mean; for
I know that I have a man’s soul, a—”

‘¢ What is the school-meeting for, Alfred ?”

‘*¢ Oh, Mr Fielding—cross old bachelor !—but I won’t
tell you anything about it—it’s too provoking!”

‘‘T shouldn’t expect any good from Mr Fielding,”
said Lilias, with an unusual degree of acrimony. Why
so exceedingly indignant at him, when, if he had not
sympathized, he surely had done thee no injury, gentle
Lilias ?

‘¢ He! no danger of his doing good anywhere—though



LILIAS FANE. 89

he says he ‘ pities the young lady’—pities! But who do
you think he wants to get in your place?”

Lilias stood aghast, for in all her troubles the thought
of losing her situation had not occurred to her ; and now
they had actually planned her removal, and were about
appointing a successor. ‘* Who, Alfred?” she gasped,
tremblingly.

“© Would you believe it, Miss Fane—that ugly, cross,
vinegar-faced Miss Digby—it is too bad! At any rate, _
they will rue the day they get her here. What is the
matter, Miss Fane? you are as pale as death.”

‘ Nothing—go now, Alfred—you shall tell me more
to-morrow.”

Well might young Lilias Fane turn pale, poor child,
at this intelligence; for at that very moment she held
her mother’s last letter in her bosom; and in that letter
had the fond, hoping mother rejoiced over the bright
prospects of her darling, called her the guardian angel of
the family, and hoped that through her efforts comfort
might again be restored to their little home. And now
to be obliged to return in disgrace, disappoint the expec-
tations of that doting parent, and become a burden where
she should be a helper, was too much—more than she
could bear. Alfred obeyed her, and retired in sorrowful
silence ; and poor Lilias, pressing one small hand upon
her aching head, paced the floor in a bitterness of spirit
that she had never felt before. We may be angels while
love makes an Eden for us; but when we go out among
the thorns, we find another spirit rising up, and learn,
alas! that we are not yet all meekness and purity. The
disheartening lesson was embittering still more the spirit



90 LILIAS FANE.

of Lilias, as she paced up and down her deserted room.
But why should Mr Fielding be so unkind? how had
she offended him? These questions puzzled her most
painfully ; and then, heavily and hopelessly, came thoughts
of the future. What should she do? She was sure of
the sympathy of good-natured Mary Mason; but such a
friend was scarce sufficient for the exigency. ‘There was
no one to advise her ; no one who, acquainted with all the
circumstances of the case, could say what was for the
best ; no one even who could be made to comprehend her
feelings. And she longed to pour out all her troubles in
some friendly bosom. Once the thought of Alfred Ma-
son crossed her mind, but she only muttered, blushing
even there, ‘‘ kind, silly boy!” and again recurred to the
one grand question—what should she do? In the midst
of these reflections, a footstep sounded on the threshold,
and before she had time to wonder who was there, Mr
Fielding stood before her. The surprise seemed mutual ;
but Lilias, probably from her sense of injury, was the first
to recover her presence of mind. She crushed a whole
shower of bright crystals that were in the act of descend-
ing, elevated her head, and with a slight courtesy, was
proceeding to adjust her cloak, when Mr Fielding ap-
proached her.

‘‘ Excuse me, Miss Fane, for this intrusion; I did not
expect to find you here; but since I have, perhaps you
will favour me with a few moments’ conversation ?”

‘‘ With pleasure, sir, in a proper place,” said Lilias,
keeping down her anger with a strong effort. ‘ I pre-
sume Mr Martin will be happy to see you?”



LILIAS FANE. 91

“Tt is you that I wish to see, Miss Fane, and for that
I shall have no good opportunity at Mr Martin’s.”

‘‘ Your communication must be of consequence,” said
Lilias, endeavouring to assume an air of carelessness.

‘You are right—it is of some consequence to you,
and so, of course, to your friends.”

‘“‘ Among which, I am well aware, that I have not the
honour to reckon Mr Fielding,” said Lilias, provoked
beyond endurance, by this seeming duplicity. The bache-
lor was evidently the most imperturbable of mortals.
The little maiden’s eye flashed, and her cheeks were crim-
son with indignation ; but not a muscle of his face moved ;
he neither looked confused nor angry, but in his usual
tone replied, ‘I will not contend with you upon that
point, Miss Fane; for mere professions are empty things.
However, it is my wish to act the part of a friend by you
now.”

‘‘ You will have an opportunity to exhibit your friend-
ship in the school-meeting this evening,” said Lilias, with
a curling lip; ‘and, if I am rightly informed, it is your
intention to do so.”

Strange to say, Mr Fielding was not yet demolished,
but with increasing sang froid he replied, ‘if you had
received less information from injudicious persons, it
might have been better for you, and most assuredly would
have saved you much unhappiness.”

The little lady trotted her foot in vexation, for she
knew his remark to be true; meantime, muttering some-
thing about even injudicious friends being preferable to
the most punctilious enemies.



92 LILIAS FANE.

‘‘ There I beg leave to dissent,” said Mr Fielding,
with perfect coolness ; ‘‘ honourable enemies—”

“¢ Excuse me, sir,” interrupted Lilias, losing all
patience. ‘I am not in a mood for discussion to-night,
and you—it is almost time for the school-meeting.”

‘© The school-meeting has been deferred.”

“ Deferred!” Miss Fane’s young face brightened like
the sky with an April sun-flash ; for what might not a
little more time do for her? and she extended her hand
involuntarily, while a ‘forgive me” hovered on her smile-
wreathed lips.

‘Tt will not take place till next week ; and in the mean
time,” continued Mr Fielding, hesitatingly, ‘‘ it would—if
I might—if you would but have confidence in my motives,
Miss Fane, I would venture a piece of advice.”

““To which I am bound to listen,” said Lilias, gaily,
and turning upon the adviser a face radiant with hap-
piness ; for the week’s respite had quite restored her
fallen spirits.

‘¢ Bound ?”

‘‘ From choice, I mean,” said Lilias, with a smile whieh
made the bachelor quite forget that she had been angry.

‘Then I will talk freely as to a friend—a sister,” and
Mr Fielding spoke in a low tone, and hurried his words,
as though the ice might be beginning to thaw. ‘‘ Your
position must be a very painful one. You have, I know,
gained all hearts, but the judgments of many are against
you, and the prejudices of more. You have many pro-
fessed friends, and they do indeed feel kindly toward you ;
but each has some petty interest to serve, some feeling of



LILIAS FANE. 93

rivalry to gratify, and there is not one among them in
whom you can place implicit confidence.”

‘“‘T know it! I have felt it all, only too deeply, too
bitterly ; but what can I do? Oh, if my mother could
be here!” and, overcome by the sudden revulsion of
feeling, Lilias burst into tears.

‘‘ Then go to her, Miss Fane—go to-morrow—her dis-
interestedness you cannot doubt,”

‘Nor is there room for doubt in the case of another
person,” retorted Lilias, in a tone of bitterness. ‘* You
have at least the merit of dealing openly, Mr Fielding.”

‘¢ You distrust me without cause, Miss Fane,” said the
bachelor, warmly ; ‘it is to save you pain that I recom-
mend this course ; and it was in the hope of inducing you
to withdraw, that I persuaded them to defer the meeting.
We have coarse natures here, and you must not come in
contact with them. Allow me to advise you, and do not
enter your school again.”

Poor Lilias Fane! the net was about her, and flutter
as she would, she could not get free. ‘Then they in-
tend to dismiss me ?” she asked, despondingly.

“If you give them the opportunity, I fear they will.”

‘* What have I done, Mr Fielding, to deserve this ?”

‘‘ Every thing that is good and praiseworthy; but a
district school is not the place for one like you. A school-
teacher must not be too sensitive—she must know how
to endure, to return buffetings.”

‘‘ Oh, Mr Fielding, I am sure it is not necessary for a
school-teacher to be bad or heartless. I know what un-
fits me for the place—I have too little character—too



94 LILIAS FANE.

little self-dependence ;—but I should improve—lI am sure
I should. Icannot leave my school until I am obliged
to leave it; as perhaps even you will do me the justice
to believe, I would have undertaken it only from neces-
sity. Even a week is of importance to me.”

“ T have not felt at liberty to inquire your motive, Miss
Fane, but I have felt assured that it was no unworthy
one, and your partial failure is attended with no disgrace.
Indeed,” and there was so much sincerity in Mr Fielding’s
words, that he did not think how warmly he was praising,
‘‘T have watched your patience, your industry, your gen-
tleness and sweetness, with admiration ; and it is to the
very qualities, most admirable, that your want of success
may be traced.”

“ And so I must go!” exclaimed Lilias, with a fresh
gush of feeling. ‘* My poor, poor mother! Indeed, Mr
Fielding—but you must be my friend, and I will do as
you bid me, for there is nobody in the world to say just
what I ought to do.”

The bachelor was almost as much agitated as poor
Lilias Fane. Fresh interest seemed to be gathering
around the little schoolmistress, and yet he had too much
delicacy to press inquiries, which at any other time would
seem impertinent. There was, however, a better under-
standing between the school-committee-man and the lady-
teacher ; and so another half-hour was passed in conver-
sation without a single angry word, after which, the two
emerged from the school-house together, and taking a
seat in the gig, proceeded toward Mr Martin’s.

That night bright young Lilias Fane, for almost the
first time in her life, went to her pillow with an aching



LILIAS FANE. 95

heart, though caused by a seeming trifle in comparison
with her other sources of sorrow. Nurtured in the lap
of luxury, made beggars by the death of a husband and
father, who was an object of almost idolatry to a loving,
helpless group; visited by disappointment, neglect, and
sickness, the little family had struggled on and been
happy. They had stemmed the torrent together. But
Mrs Fane’s exertions were wasting life. Liilias was the
eldest child, and her only dependence. What could the
delicate, fragile, young girl do to be useful? Plain sewing
yielded but slight recompense to fingers too little accus-
tomed to its mysteries, and, in the retirement which Mrs
Fane had chosen, ornamental needle-work found no mar-
ket. True, Lilias knew something of drawing and music;
but she had never thought of either as a profession, and
she felt conscious that her knowledge of both was too
superficial to turn to account. Little did Mrs Fane or
Lilias know of a district school, particularly in the win-
ter; but they knew that teaching was considered a re-
spectable employment ; so the trial was made, and bitter
to Lilias was the result.

The next morning the children assembled at the
school-house as usual, but they were soon dispersed by
the sad intelligence that Miss Fane had been called sud-
denly home; which information caused quite a sensation
throughout the district. Alfred Mason kicked over the
breakfast table when he heard the news, declared that
it was Mr Fielding’s work, and he ought to be hanged,
and chopped wood furiously all the rest of the day.

Some people thought “it quite strange that Miss Fane
did not go home in the stage-coach, as she came, and



96 LILIAS FANE.

there was some litile gossiping on the subject ; but Mrs
Martin said Mr Fielding had convinced her that his gig,
with the soft cushions, was much more comfortable, and
warm, and safe, and had talked so much of the incon-
veniences of stage-coach travelling, that the good dame
declared she should ‘be afeared of the ugly things all the
days of her life.”

In the mean time, the lady and gentleman were pur-
suing their way very sociably, if not very happily; and
Lilias found, to her infinite astonishment, that Mr
Fielding, when he threw off the school-committee-man,
and had no unpleasant point to gain (such as telling
a lady she is mistaken in her vocation), could be vastly
agreeable. He even went so far as to draw a picture
of her successor, the vinegar-faced Miss Digby, at which
Lilias laughed so heartily that she could not help won-
dering the next moment what had become of her sad-
ness. Looking for sadness or any other unwelcome
visitor (vide the old adage), is the very way to bring it
to your presence ; and so Mr Fielding felt himself called
upon to play the agreeable to an unusual extent ; and
Lilias wondered how she could be so happy, until she was
obliged to explain the cause of her misery, just for the
sake of refreshing her memory. And then Mr Fielding
was sad too—oh, so sad! And then he said something
in a very low tone—doubtless to let her know how much
he pitied her; but it must have been awkwardly done,
for Lilias blushed a great deal more than when she was
angry with him. Mr Fielding blushed too, and both
looked as though they were quite ready to quarrel again.
What a lucky circumstance that they did not arrive at



LILIAS FANE. 97

this crisis before, for now Lilias exclaimed joyously, ‘‘ Oh, -
we are home!” and the gig drew up before Mrs Fane’s
door.

It would be impossible to say whether Mrs Fane felt
more gladness or surprise at the sight of Lilias; and the
little ones gathered around her, ‘“ all clamorous,” not
‘‘ for bread,” but kisses.

Mr Fielding glanced from the noisy, happy group to
the pale, thin face of the mother, and then around upon
the scanty furniture ; and, callous old bachelor as he was,
he felt his heart swelling in his throat, and the moisture
in his eye made him ashamed of himself.

Mr Fielding did not return home that day, for his
horse had lost a shoe, which it was necessary should be
replaced ; and the next day there came a snow-storm,
which only a madman would brave ; then the third day,
I do not quite know what detained him, but it must have
been something of importance, as he was the last man in
the world to exchange the comforts of home for the in-
conveniences of a village hotel, without sufficient reason.
On the fourth day, however, toward night, he was so for-
tunate as to undertake his homeward journey; but, before
this, he was closeted a long time with the again radiant
Lilias, and afterward with her mother; and he finally
quitted them, with a face so brimming over with happiness,
as to show—perhaps—how glad he was to get away!

Early the ensuing spring, the cottage down by the
Maple Grove had a new mistress ; and another, close by,
was purchased and fitted up tastefully for a pale, sweet
widow and her bright-eyed children ; the eldest of whom,

‘Alfred Mason declares a vast deal prettier than her sister
Lilias, a



THE UNUSEFUL.

MAN is a born equestrian; and from the time when
mother Eve fixed her anxious heart on improving her
condition, and crushed a world at a single bound, to this
present writing, he has never lacked a hobby whereon to
exercise to his heart’s content. And it is no tame, gentle
exercise ; for, whatever the hobby may be, and whether
well-mounted or otherwise, he not only rides tantivy, but
hesitates not to ‘‘run through a troop and leap over a
wall.” We have innumerable hobbies now-a-days ; and
many of them (to our credit be it said) are of an excel-
lent character. But, poor things! they are ridden down
most savagely.

You may have seen, among these poor, jaded, spavined,
wind-galled, would-be-racers of beasts of burden, a huge
mammoth, with a back like a continent, and legs like
those of Mark Antony in Cleopatra’s dream. This is a
universal hobby that men have named UsEFutness ; and
such strong claims has it to the suffrages of all but the
butterflies, that whoever eschews the wing of the idler,
must needs accept a seat. There is no medium, no spot
of terra firma on which we may stand and labour in quiet,
sober earnest; one must either flutter in the air a giddy
thing, or gallop away almost as madly on the back of



THE UNUSEFUL. 99

this irresistible hobby. But we do, verily, constitute a
goodly array ; and so uncompromisingly do we ride down
everything that is elegant and beautiful, and indolently
lovely, that we are even in danger of doubting the wis-
dom of the Deity in placing those soft, sun-draped, luxu-
riously lazy clouds in the summer heavens ; in scattering
the idle, balm-breathing flowers so profusely by the way-
side ; and in sending out the play-loving zephyrs to dally
through the live-long day with every bud that has a lip
to kiss, and every light-poised leaf that palpitates at its
sly whispers, like’a lady’s boddice at the first word that
takes its course from the tip of a lover’s tongue into her
heart, Yet our hobby is a most noble beast originally.
What a great pity that it should be made so stupidly un-
gainly by its mad riders! A finer animal never lost its
attractiveness by man’s re-moulding ; and while most of
us jolt along upon the back of our spoiled hobby, we
leave its spirit to the quiet, unassuming ones who close
one hand to the labours of the other. What can be more
beautiful than Usrrutness—the great object of our
present existence? What more repulsive than the de-
formed images to which each, according to his particular
fancy, gives the name? So many a person, giving up the
world to the wltraists, who are sent to occupy one of the
‘‘ human extremes,” preserves the spirit in its purity, and
is most unusefully useful.

Of a character somewhat resembling this was my
friend Nora Maylie; though I think that in its formation
nature had more to do than principle. To estimate
things properly and reasonably, requires both maturity of
judgment and independence of thought.



100 THE UNUSEFUL.

Nora Maylie must have been born under an unpro-
mising star, for in infancy she was fair, fat, and good-
natured ; without any of that unwelcome vivacity, so il-
lustrative of perpetual motion ; but with a very knowing
look upon her baby features, that told you, at once, the
repose of her manner sprang not from a lack of good
sense; at least enough of it to place her on a par with
other babies. ‘This sensible look was Nora’s curse, for
it gave her a preéminence over her sisters ; and in pro-
portion to her height was the number of stones cast at
her, It was at once decided that she was born to a high
destiny ; and so she waddled off to school as soon as her
chubby little feet would bear her weight. But physi-
ognomical promises are deceitful. Nora was not a par-
ticularly playful child, and very far from being mischiev-
ous; but yet, all through two golden summers of her
school-life, she took her daily course from a to zed, with-
out once dreaming but her whole duty consisted in echo-
ing back, with her own pretty lisp, each letter as it was
pronounced for her.

Nora Maylie was the youngest of five daughters, all
professional women, and notedly, eminently useful. I
will not say that Rachel, the eldest, could make a nice
dish of tea, or prepare a delicious jelly for a fevered lip ;
but she could make dresses superbly. She was perfect
‘1 her art. Not that she was obliged to make dresses—
by no means! Old farmer Maylie had enough in scrip
and granary for his family, with now and then a bit to
keep the poor around him from a surfeit of want ; but
that made no difference. Mrs Maylie hated not idleness
merely, but a tendency to dwell on the minutie of life,



THE UNUSEFUL. 101

in preference to taking that decided stand indicative of a
woman of character. She was herself a notable house-
wife; and she had always privately regretted that she
could boast no higher excellence. She would have liked
well to figure more largely than was now in her power ;
for, on account of the exclusively domestic character of
her education, the office of directress in a sewing society
was the highest that she had ever been able to assume.
She was a sensible woman, however, and not only wisely
kept her chagrin to herself, but when she saw that Ma-
tilda, her second daughter, evinced a fondness for such
vain pursuits as dressing dolls, and painting paper flowers
with sorrel-leaves and Indian strawberries, she at once
decided that the child had a great genius in the millinery
line. Susan and Mary had a predilection for intellectu-
ality, and took to books as readily and naturally as ducks
take to the genial pool while yet in pen-feathers ; and so,
of course, they must be teachers—school-teachers—the
most useful of all the multitudes of useful people the
world contains. But little Nora (Mrs Maylie’s diminutive
for Eleanora), as I have said, was an anomaly. At four,
she took patch-work to school; but poor Nora! She
couldn’t see into the philosophy of over-and-over seams.
She would rather spread the pretty calicoes on her knee,
and admire their bright colouring, or twist them up into
dolls with paper heads, and closely-pined drapery. Then
she was particularly given to losing thimbles, and knotting
thread ; and her needle, however clumsy, was always
bent or broken at the point—the legitimate result of her
devotion to badly cracked hickory nuts. And then such
stitches! Why the little girls laughed till the tears came



102 THE UNUSEFUL.

into their eyes from very merriment at the sight; but
when they saw the big drops standing in hers, they all
patted her velvet cheeks lovingly, and smoothed her hang~
ing hair; and if they found her inconsolable, made a
chair with their crossed hands and bore her away in
triumph to the play-ground. In their wise, confidential
talks, they used to say that Nora Maylie was just the
dearest little creature in the world, but it was a great
pity she could not sew. As some compensation for my
little friend’s deficiencies, I should like to be able to say
that she was a good scholar; but no assertion could have
less truth in it—she was just no scholar at all. And yet
I am not certain but a careful observer of human nature,
even though less shrewd than the worldly-minded mother,
might have detected, in this very backwardness, this re-
fusal to trammel the mind with that which seemed in no
wise calculated to enrich it, the germ of a higher order
of intellect than common minds appreciate. As it was,
however, there was no one near to raise the one fold of
ignorance from the beautifying soul beneath; and so Nora
was judged by her non-attainments. How heartily she
hated the monotonous a, b, c, and the smart, flippant
ab ab, e b eb, i b ib, that made her companions’ tongues
resemble so many mill-clappers, When, by dint of con-
stant dinging, she could make out the words of a few easy
sentences, such as ‘‘no—man—may—put—off— the—
law—of—God,” she still evinced the same dead level of
intellect, and hated her books, and hated (as poor Mrs
Maylie often despairingly observed) everything that was
useful. But Nora did not hate to follow her mother
through the routine of her day’s labour ; to run for the



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24e3f906d50fa097e08448eb7f06d6cf
0e2c7300f52a171fe6b72a2ae9f5751ecadf13a9
'2011-08-17T07:45:00-04:00'
describe
'11003' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKHW' 'sip-files00008thm.jpg'
a478a70818f4750426dfad68c05f0fc3
0c13013440ebf9e9dea9069da873f692e1d39fe5
'2011-08-17T07:51:46-04:00'
describe
'1129865' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKHX' 'sip-files00009.jp2'
a5cdb31cd106d2a0b823d78534fd1cf6
37e16ae16e931dd6e5236dcccd54b20d8d96ad25
'2011-08-17T07:50:27-04:00'
describe
'108900' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKHY' 'sip-files00009.jpg'
7fd4a76cd4dfa7ff598b4708327c7ef0
7f29adf05c8bd0e50dbf4cf3b3df37e8af295842
'2011-08-17T07:46:46-04:00'
describe
'43478' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKHZ' 'sip-files00009.pro'
91809d30e93ba0222afc963761e9d0e1
73c31157c91ec407d25c647197c40b6801b37eee
'2011-08-17T07:52:39-04:00'
describe
'39761' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIA' 'sip-files00009.QC.jpg'
ff9d14ae237fe29e646868c24f8058f1
70b92047106a58b55ad1a0d0bd7ba7a53516d69f
'2011-08-17T07:47:31-04:00'
describe
'9061708' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIB' 'sip-files00009.tif'
cf0cd116f5c4a4a15316d9cc12d5ea3b
0728e489e7b40831501faf33430b865dac425a37
'2011-08-17T07:53:18-04:00'
describe
'1795' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIC' 'sip-files00009.txt'
27395e46b10d81bd6176175d304bb0ce
4642fe356d67d6eb1066a53fd33c8a4a0073cda4
'2011-08-17T07:49:16-04:00'
describe
'11153' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKID' 'sip-files00009thm.jpg'
41561362ade5ce89cef2b08ecfa917cd
817c4e8605b4fc9ec0e08392a542d344e46fa3cf
'2011-08-17T07:52:08-04:00'
describe
'1071757' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIE' 'sip-files00010.jp2'
18334a2a81f61c1cb00bdc7a02d4045b
16fb5c939be4c3f8d32d6f43d249b08165130771
'2011-08-17T07:51:04-04:00'
describe
'107625' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIF' 'sip-files00010.jpg'
6dafb6d27b0c8695d570e28288a7a1c3
bb9cbb101fa8cee214b6ff87fe308516d0e9efc9
'2011-08-17T07:48:17-04:00'
describe
'42037' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIG' 'sip-files00010.pro'
de2700511cd091847b0ba061b947af41
fe25329dffc317458ef911350eb74cb430d0ebcc
'2011-08-17T07:43:32-04:00'
describe
'38789' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIH' 'sip-files00010.QC.jpg'
e552c8810b9ee8fafec79c21c49fc327
01e7eab0be27f5708981d8455800a18b379a1587
'2011-08-17T07:49:37-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKII' 'sip-files00010.tif'
5a68cd2e1630a836534f3edc4928e746
d65e11ae29188f308035b31c0852cc982f385cff
'2011-08-17T07:44:30-04:00'
describe
'1808' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIJ' 'sip-files00010.txt'
1615dd713c2b105b28c44a2f84e2278e
95447e0fcc22eddb7550d268bdc958164f6e6bae
'2011-08-17T07:53:58-04:00'
describe
'11104' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIK' 'sip-files00010thm.jpg'
ee920cc29ba88b263a03ebbaa6d471a4
77f284965ceaedf01e3a6bba3fcc5eb274a04d8c
'2011-08-17T07:48:09-04:00'
describe
'1129809' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIL' 'sip-files00011.jp2'
aec1cf3c6f625fe75ac596bb3166e293
c1ebc7633686aa5e9b8f58f7c5099efff6e19712
'2011-08-17T07:51:24-04:00'
describe
'107954' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIM' 'sip-files00011.jpg'
b703ffdfc79e51866291a56a0fb88426
5f02a0af99813626eba7b82927d1bdf0529c3568
'2011-08-17T07:48:38-04:00'
describe
'43685' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIN' 'sip-files00011.pro'
6c92221eded2e36b4f983b05243cb28b
9fb3a1c3cad5bb35b47a24b3b0e6ef76a7876a22
'2011-08-17T07:50:58-04:00'
describe
'39540' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIO' 'sip-files00011.QC.jpg'
e8fe5e2d9e32b1c1a27136fa4411649a
ff11c1816a0947adc4b0c14474977aa063f4ef42
'2011-08-17T07:53:02-04:00'
describe
'9061416' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIP' 'sip-files00011.tif'
c92e52a6fe32c7b8104bd645886d3015
100a427c45ddf8bd17e4f81e6d487309e9fcd24c
'2011-08-17T07:43:22-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIQ' 'sip-files00011.txt'
c33460c736966fe22fdbbc6846a5c52b
8ac321b94acd08280eda1a2ca28b747eb35cdac5
'2011-08-17T07:43:45-04:00'
describe
'10717' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIR' 'sip-files00011thm.jpg'
fb0a08e2c6be38a74c853e9fff977ab9
73c596e1cf884fa44a74a29c15f8382fa983487c
'2011-08-17T07:45:26-04:00'
describe
'1071782' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIS' 'sip-files00012.jp2'
2ec500141a9372c6cae610f6417863a1
4d5c3ee2f92302697c5378288618174f13622690
'2011-08-17T07:50:06-04:00'
describe
'104497' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIT' 'sip-files00012.jpg'
7289cd30c1f7f2cae95b50499b22761e
f7ce96645face87b66a45ceb2a6e920fb8375067
'2011-08-17T07:43:10-04:00'
describe
'42916' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIU' 'sip-files00012.pro'
c73a057a9ea30a1a27001764ee3b95ae
59f3916507da48915d32b673b3c7280d82ea31c9
'2011-08-17T07:52:05-04:00'
describe
'38245' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIV' 'sip-files00012.QC.jpg'
7e7efb23c774c1bc25f0f9a1f65fdaf3
d3b8b4ff3c9ea5e5a745cb4fa114036333bf9696
'2011-08-17T07:49:45-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIW' 'sip-files00012.tif'
4d63e0394d6976ef1f45573534b30968
738988b33aa05100f7546f564a2cc19aba8d9675
'2011-08-17T07:46:51-04:00'
describe
'1826' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIX' 'sip-files00012.txt'
08f7d100635130bbc43145197dfd92d4
5f87b2f4c809dc0cbb6098c1f8ef414264eb4638
describe
'10966' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIY' 'sip-files00012thm.jpg'
52a5b9aa4ad5271afba7edd569359363
37725f686747e936310eb2808541867e3b9f9e1e
'2011-08-17T07:44:49-04:00'
describe
'1044712' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKIZ' 'sip-files00013.jp2'
de6610910c77450f9d9a1ce43d39a365
36280f96f72ad7cb8c1afdf623e1428e26f62dfa
'2011-08-17T07:44:36-04:00'
describe
'101613' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJA' 'sip-files00013.jpg'
4e2440d2c9f1822ea7dcee6d4a36f822
8f34f9e828bee3f5a57c57a827190a0f17d5e9f9
'2011-08-17T07:50:59-04:00'
describe
'43140' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJB' 'sip-files00013.pro'
40cfc1522f34b775fb2bbc67c72c0451
94dfbbde2df15c5e6fb69abdcc368059e0cf45b6
'2011-08-17T07:50:41-04:00'
describe
'36463' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJC' 'sip-files00013.QC.jpg'
9918c91904ff87cf39531639b712fbcc
8dc49377a4ca5c2d458e7aacae0ba62907309ef3
'2011-08-17T07:46:35-04:00'
describe
'8380388' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJD' 'sip-files00013.tif'
a331bcd272fa744798b91ccb619bd323
9a14a15fc58bafbd11da0c7181cc40157475ca53
'2011-08-17T07:48:26-04:00'
describe
'1771' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJE' 'sip-files00013.txt'
bde595d1806bc34c0b38ea174d66c2f7
b092e88284d0a1aca8f49b15f2592e97a60c788e
'2011-08-17T07:51:40-04:00'
describe
'11696' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJF' 'sip-files00013thm.jpg'
53aaddeb18982ce515f1a25df88e9ddd
5beff2af7ad28483304ee9fc79adb22bb4c5f84a
'2011-08-17T07:53:30-04:00'
describe
'1071706' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJG' 'sip-files00014.jp2'
da167316d198df796279298a7bca6aaa
2df1ed9e70fd13f2b4e47e5fff87746748abe987
'2011-08-17T07:48:31-04:00'
describe
'107402' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJH' 'sip-files00014.jpg'
3e8500b5ba411a588d7f257a664b0fa2
e2ca800c7d866c831d4819b1edf3e04e624bd6f6
describe
'43829' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJI' 'sip-files00014.pro'
c7d0baddcda54deb79aeadc9afe4566d
148000f36d29354756b4b8c9924eec7d98ab650d
describe
'38467' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJJ' 'sip-files00014.QC.jpg'
f372c161e729af6669849e1aa30eeb1e
2bb0503190628e784936ee15b0904845da68b4c7
'2011-08-17T07:46:48-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJK' 'sip-files00014.tif'
8a72356c6efa255ec791efe0f5e410e8
99d775e301717641ec72e3c3c77d9bec267495bb
'2011-08-17T07:53:05-04:00'
describe
'1862' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJL' 'sip-files00014.txt'
ca49f453048e8c41ebcef36eb8cfd319
8b92fea8015d68744d42bf283ffa86c8f25dae2f
describe
'10937' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJM' 'sip-files00014thm.jpg'
331f89b8859f6b97f4a099f06139b6d8
220f55e0adfd637b7fd3ce729491f2169b2e97d4
'2011-08-17T07:45:04-04:00'
describe
'1129896' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJN' 'sip-files00015.jp2'
95479a9b4ba066c85053db73bff99775
ba0132482c8db720c032f383db273699885efadf
'2011-08-17T07:43:09-04:00'
describe
'103294' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJO' 'sip-files00015.jpg'
3e6cd63ebbda96469c1d8c3cc2f8a4e0
be00b652458da931ddd3d4a1c1cb6d36826af2b2
'2011-08-17T07:49:31-04:00'
describe
'44133' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJP' 'sip-files00015.pro'
f7a4c5929f216a3302a0c274aa6ccee6
a6717c626e851522e88e267f3c59f85f49787234
'2011-08-17T07:52:09-04:00'
describe
'36860' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJQ' 'sip-files00015.QC.jpg'
a5671171b70ff55564c969ee027b7385
b280bc667ae6effb5550861f56f581da0e83321c
'2011-08-17T07:47:38-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJR' 'sip-files00015.tif'
4c21fa5044eba9d447678f192a713588
b7f9cf6e9a1ce66682af3ff28d605319092c9966
describe
'1802' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJS' 'sip-files00015.txt'
f010b5d78b510a359580254313683620
c02607039b0491d8eb76ab55bdb4c7adbbfc85fa
'2011-08-17T07:46:32-04:00'
describe
'10397' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJT' 'sip-files00015thm.jpg'
93394eefb41ebb307728fa7d9457bd44
6e469df07dc2890239f065a236d71a607458a959
'2011-08-17T07:45:31-04:00'
describe
'1071783' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJU' 'sip-files00016.jp2'
7662b51582dded8d4c206292a6413153
86aa80ebe377c7083f24342de9809a1a594ea643
'2011-08-17T07:49:58-04:00'
describe
'103518' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJV' 'sip-files00016.jpg'
a8b891776af7d599c310ac212c35d07e
2bc43f1ea8b30d1e2422de43c9de017cbe1f214b
'2011-08-17T07:51:55-04:00'
describe
'42284' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJW' 'sip-files00016.pro'
28af90d6ec1ef034c57ec8c6102ba47d
dc398d310a713beaea3f54b0ff99d84476a852df
'2011-08-17T07:44:23-04:00'
describe
'38364' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJX' 'sip-files00016.QC.jpg'
f450bc0f3959a4163e176411643bcb1d
4b13847ad77696c0f0e8b946c0ad5b0b46555e8b
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJY' 'sip-files00016.tif'
a2e4862b33795fff438997e7aa07839e
172c26fddb87ebd7b2ce7bfed3129f84cd381cf4
'2011-08-17T07:48:01-04:00'
describe
'1744' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKJZ' 'sip-files00016.txt'
9688e7c5cbbac4de4099e5beccce859d
e281c97cdbb0cd082fae8c87ba29c24b1ff5af85
'2011-08-17T07:51:42-04:00'
describe
'11305' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKA' 'sip-files00016thm.jpg'
d10952ebc49187b561b8992b2fc0dba2
64a5214279ba514d6d454055f39387533c74fa53
'2011-08-17T07:43:29-04:00'
describe
'1129817' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKB' 'sip-files00017.jp2'
91b19f4a1d22fc4c5bfc5ada7b8dd45c
32e5f41734d2e60968c9e45a932ee0ba833e4dbd
'2011-08-17T07:44:00-04:00'
describe
'97955' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKC' 'sip-files00017.jpg'
3096b1eda3de3ec7b0ed525e7ba7afc8
c8fcfa38bd08ef50ce29a2833f545dd9d817bd31
'2011-08-17T07:45:12-04:00'
describe
'40968' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKD' 'sip-files00017.pro'
24ba1588d0008e05a5e76c7f6aaf07a5
7bc0b05e2cd5a3dcf7ebc889d762aa2174cd6ddc
'2011-08-17T07:53:16-04:00'
describe
'35084' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKE' 'sip-files00017.QC.jpg'
d0ff67028584d9ba54cf47cde8acf116
a02c23fe01920f8aa0f6ef3eb135ddd6ff4d7a7b
'2011-08-17T07:49:48-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKF' 'sip-files00017.tif'
9085f7d94e6017e1c50da59e5dbbb570
857d0002ef6616bac5d29396e067c32c21e99753
'2011-08-17T07:53:19-04:00'
describe
'1724' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKG' 'sip-files00017.txt'
9b381586035afb5b5054e804ef9f8f40
78c7ca0a128743aba90a6d502db7e667ceb66c67
'2011-08-17T07:50:15-04:00'
describe
'9684' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKH' 'sip-files00017thm.jpg'
888020288c93fc26d2cfe20f3adf94da
ffbb492f4b137c251bc985db8259c06f42e1da29
'2011-08-17T07:46:41-04:00'
describe
'1029362' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKI' 'sip-files00018.jp2'
71803e4860d381876b50a483968cac87
067794faa64dd6ddb1442a4d998223f04242ff8d
'2011-08-17T07:54:03-04:00'
describe
'102139' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKJ' 'sip-files00018.jpg'
6e01eed941ed132453115b406fa8606d
1a77dee6fc2220efe6f3ed829e0aa3cf5700c2bd
'2011-08-17T07:43:18-04:00'
describe
'42750' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKK' 'sip-files00018.pro'
c2e2aab2ab291212b4b52131d596a43d
19e158df749d42b446c6307e42224b1b820ca60c
'2011-08-17T07:47:11-04:00'
describe
'37372' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKL' 'sip-files00018.QC.jpg'
10249930b92b3c2da7280769a58270cf
a71f06904c0034fb74a278083b0a2c8e52acc8e7
'2011-08-17T07:45:19-04:00'
describe
'8244575' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKM' 'sip-files00018.tif'
15108f6bf0822a3050888e162aaf958d
e482fc08fe45a1d1642f1bebd17ba746e04ff297
describe
'1786' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKN' 'sip-files00018.txt'
708e90d09b0482a126b745aea3f04747
a59af75793490314c4be4e154855f461e4dbc988
'2011-08-17T07:52:17-04:00'
describe
'11248' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKO' 'sip-files00018thm.jpg'
e4288604e1ec1451ba49546acd837315
e72f8dcee6601ab5b731bd0f2d4a445bf61c9637
'2011-08-17T07:43:05-04:00'
describe
'1129900' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKP' 'sip-files00019.jp2'
954a8f0c97ac73d1cf4bb374956b27df
5c70e2dacd70cd1f970e4c721ccd2c359ce04bf2
describe
'96342' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKQ' 'sip-files00019.jpg'
d6446aa05c8be185012facf31a485351
c50bebe0cf1eb0f622906b2932aefec3c9afb32f
'2011-08-17T07:49:41-04:00'
describe
'39737' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKR' 'sip-files00019.pro'
1f662f6ef7ebca8e5bf3192a355432e0
5f163a40bd8fa9200695825631b4b64725ae2bb1
'2011-08-17T07:50:48-04:00'
describe
'34465' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKS' 'sip-files00019.QC.jpg'
5b326c9c1b92b194b76276f4fb38eb06
d965a8fcee9feafe83d105c5f2d12efbd39afc0d
'2011-08-17T07:43:06-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKT' 'sip-files00019.tif'
0f4cfe4fa4061ec11f8b50e8593d0f1d
2272260726abcfdf930fb63a0ca1def5eeacf1fa
'2011-08-17T07:54:09-04:00'
describe
'1648' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKU' 'sip-files00019.txt'
80437feda233bb57f369a06fb5ee5ff6
913af984cf33833e67b040b0b5a874dc5e5cf38a
'2011-08-17T07:52:20-04:00'
describe
'9617' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKV' 'sip-files00019thm.jpg'
ea566fcd1eee25e51ef43f1e4f034774
b8990665114824877034ba6461ba6956e3fb1a23
'2011-08-17T07:53:49-04:00'
describe
'1071793' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKW' 'sip-files00020.jp2'
7cf67bcdeed87bcfcefc7d3a40af0d20
0671202590ec75d57635bd8ef771d4ea4e56c10b
'2011-08-17T07:51:38-04:00'
describe
'101723' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKX' 'sip-files00020.jpg'
00d0bae629a4317975e8a0963048ed40
cbbe80646f275878e641301c18b025683c029aac
'2011-08-17T07:53:32-04:00'
describe
'42594' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKY' 'sip-files00020.pro'
1ae16f7620dd0ab4cf0876468da03930
1c972c9370c7ef4ab88eb4e503494bf304a00c95
'2011-08-17T07:51:11-04:00'
describe
'37397' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKKZ' 'sip-files00020.QC.jpg'
32cd9a23514d68b29f870eb1c984032a
efaf175754c499e51760032900fece20952d0830
'2011-08-17T07:51:44-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLA' 'sip-files00020.tif'
a0e4ed7ae81f84902745a7cb2c7dfff8
e205e28610d973a3b1b58d5deddb3aefcf3a9022
'2011-08-17T07:43:47-04:00'
describe
'1749' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLB' 'sip-files00020.txt'
86390774630f2e9729f30404f3e82844
960172fc792e108d0592a109ab340f1eb2f98af5
'2011-08-17T07:49:53-04:00'
describe
'10944' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLC' 'sip-files00020thm.jpg'
72b99b60dbd555ef5c34e4a18b16864b
c84c4b4abec2383371a5432721c4942ccf30a9bc
'2011-08-17T07:50:14-04:00'
describe
'1129884' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLD' 'sip-files00021.jp2'
b7dd87b9b607d322f23bf5e979a66f03
875b87cb77f0664cf421b40d21208467307e08c5
'2011-08-17T07:50:10-04:00'
describe
'102614' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLE' 'sip-files00021.jpg'
5a63fe428374da40ea63290745579f1e
6a22845aa0cc2a1a647de1fd650b1dd7bb5eef46
'2011-08-17T07:47:27-04:00'
describe
'44429' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLF' 'sip-files00021.pro'
618ba6d62fe92c6c8b6e5c15523116ea
be14cd13b487db457da8c670a44d8902b62a8ab7
'2011-08-17T07:54:04-04:00'
describe
'36909' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLG' 'sip-files00021.QC.jpg'
aa47accebecdec9299aec11bb8244776
d939927c5c37283f77bcc0f94b36af2d1da8b913
'2011-08-17T07:50:11-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLH' 'sip-files00021.tif'
52f24afaf2aca9528204cbf895b655f0
f59c2e4a61478183dce9bc03dad5533e1303c37a
'2011-08-17T07:50:09-04:00'
describe
'1812' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLI' 'sip-files00021.txt'
ed5c9a3a7609146e2a02d59ccb28bc08
c8921c907c692aa4d985df73ff3820da23764faf
'2011-08-17T07:49:15-04:00'
describe
'9985' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLJ' 'sip-files00021thm.jpg'
faeec074237805ed672fc1cf6f2a6bb4
c457be2c7033b4522a560865be2c820c941b1926
'2011-08-17T07:48:25-04:00'
describe
'1071753' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLK' 'sip-files00022.jp2'
9a99e0ec1cc2b36a88c180b6d8f4afb2
3dd29681aefa03ee8b024bda6dd3308774e055fb
'2011-08-17T07:43:49-04:00'
describe
'80370' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLL' 'sip-files00022.jpg'
bfa840434e469473b853ec1666584ddd
ecf2b98806065886f5034db7afecdfc3535202d4
'2011-08-17T07:47:37-04:00'
describe
'32774' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLM' 'sip-files00022.pro'
45b7c9c051771efb28a87d012da2f889
6da2d3e70487232aa5b431ef454f51816f0d9f79
'2011-08-17T07:44:33-04:00'
describe
'29012' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLN' 'sip-files00022.QC.jpg'
17a1927e3abed149a0883adbda2049b4
c2a5873b4142691840c69f82a5451dd040444b03
'2011-08-17T07:47:08-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLO' 'sip-files00022.tif'
776a943df9f031d403541e9220373c3c
165833263795cd5c0e789663ffdc8adcd0bca237
'2011-08-17T07:49:44-04:00'
describe
'1396' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLP' 'sip-files00022.txt'
bf1cf9ce891b4be6b9cb5d7efcf91fb6
ce38cf7661ba267d76d82ab076fbc75dcc345ec0
'2011-08-17T07:51:37-04:00'
describe
'8724' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLQ' 'sip-files00022thm.jpg'
081f025e169ea0293064fb7205d5ec31
3e803e3680a7c49432bcb569ea6f22e683939ceb
'2011-08-17T07:49:59-04:00'
describe
'1129894' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLR' 'sip-files00023.jp2'
47695b9f37130833c615f835a5693cb4
38ed201d5ca4f8e0a07b80c2329ab3e3f158287e
describe
'88420' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLS' 'sip-files00023.jpg'
bc3acf389547e6b8822abdc8520a8b62
eab86fa67ddc1e660fe3a2478efb3725b61daccc
'2011-08-17T07:45:06-04:00'
describe
'37268' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLT' 'sip-files00023.pro'
7859b3888dadd4d77dca84ede138f110
fe4060a90012f22d85d0245d841e6bdc7cdb9e38
'2011-08-17T07:52:48-04:00'
describe
'31636' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLU' 'sip-files00023.QC.jpg'
ba73df3d36420ea33de01a17844b681f
1753dfce608495a37fd9f4dcbfdd12579f72c22d
'2011-08-17T07:51:35-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLV' 'sip-files00023.tif'
7055cb511cf9c68255c28513db852a05
0fe1748bca65c65b78d722d0a076b6c5ef419d07
describe
'1548' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLW' 'sip-files00023.txt'
8a1c79050079307d045d8685e6114469
b6902c970703257b195ba1efd6df102f20eed14f
'2011-08-17T07:52:02-04:00'
describe
'9220' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLX' 'sip-files00023thm.jpg'
5d0bcbc6f2626a74d8d810f4261ba7df
cd345b6c10981f1c6bbef670b284edd59254ab23
'2011-08-17T07:52:11-04:00'
describe
'1034080' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLY' 'sip-files00024.jp2'
2fedc281f3243575a7396b20b6153cac
fe9ef015331ca61fc222342da558b48ebe317968
'2011-08-17T07:43:14-04:00'
describe
'89339' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKLZ' 'sip-files00024.jpg'
34f4c7fa4ad092f050053bb6de3d1e4b
9d3543dd4e20783eeaabbbe9c1fb07ac19101129
'2011-08-17T07:53:09-04:00'
describe
'36812' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMA' 'sip-files00024.pro'
82c4edc5dae406172e592ce573140702
4e67a498a9189394292290a6ba95d32e25e48b31
'2011-08-17T07:53:10-04:00'
describe
'32430' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMB' 'sip-files00024.QC.jpg'
ff569d5ecc991e38d773fa8af38bed6b
c2e5d7f25818493dec069efdf2f8d51df9e72cad
'2011-08-17T07:44:34-04:00'
describe
'8283145' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMC' 'sip-files00024.tif'
6434382396679c11749473340e5b4819
d83be265dc1251c81ba50aa11150e42e27615141
'2011-08-17T07:49:39-04:00'
describe
'1561' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMD' 'sip-files00024.txt'
bdd2c3e08315ba8e9f55de75f197384b
6caff516a8c4bdff4cc9ebe146599aac306a83bc
'2011-08-17T07:52:06-04:00'
describe
'10545' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKME' 'sip-files00024thm.jpg'
8da561de7fea856de2cc71f83089c7a3
4a0b6dbdb29ca66605811be6c9256db3d0884131
'2011-08-17T07:51:22-04:00'
describe
'1108234' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMF' 'sip-files00025.jp2'
8ed2f6d38389f9f946a8b521b0bd83fd
8b9394d3fe5277c1eeb46cd609c24b8f21bc03e1
describe
'94312' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMG' 'sip-files00025.jpg'
132392d92a4aec82dcf73055df93ea8e
3be308e22d7efc6eed8f5cecd74aa440942ecb97
describe
'40985' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMH' 'sip-files00025.pro'
739992a1959665d64284814625fb961e
f5a18271742aa3da4a8459d905e320919563d329
'2011-08-17T07:52:34-04:00'
describe
'34136' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMI' 'sip-files00025.QC.jpg'
f9803cd2fbd8061d1af72837a4ff470d
9627ebf3cc2cad893b9d1c9da09540d811632934
'2011-08-17T07:45:27-04:00'
describe
'8875617' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMJ' 'sip-files00025.tif'
33404c10f94bde5a24f95b43c1a063f6
4144bf858e5e9a4e78e00177877160a6bddd0dc6
describe
'1723' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMK' 'sip-files00025.txt'
2c4d79aee39bee04da24f976cc8de909
72c826eeed58f82dd1365de30489961719d67acc
'2011-08-17T07:52:23-04:00'
describe
'9397' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKML' 'sip-files00025thm.jpg'
3c60e6161e599ffcae492ffcbd8ee62a
1d4304666ec1b39188e04d767d0b935bb52fa679
describe
'1077682' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMM' 'sip-files00026.jp2'
3e78c5b0e1bbb66372023d0e78544f22
385c350b43bb21282851ae1a0d5e33ff3f11834d
'2011-08-17T07:53:20-04:00'
describe
'99498' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMN' 'sip-files00026.jpg'
8ccb5b88854f386fcafc51adc4ec5c28
21e8c0704022d49c7a78d2394f0b770ba84fc2f6
'2011-08-17T07:50:49-04:00'
describe
'41257' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMO' 'sip-files00026.pro'
cc3a0d680563f63826c630bbbcd4f7ea
1fb14f2e5be3693f2ed083b2df78069849465431
'2011-08-17T07:43:27-04:00'
describe
'36435' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMP' 'sip-files00026.QC.jpg'
236a28ae2e2ced811c484ad24cf307f5
09448b8cf5b71c239ad22cef12014c737658a2dd
'2011-08-17T07:51:43-04:00'
describe
'8631131' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMQ' 'sip-files00026.tif'
12ffdc9741f42f25ded39e291df263a4
63caf73b7c06f08e89cfc9e6e1baca7d7d3caf61
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMR' 'sip-files00026.txt'
a830039fa56ba55b8a6d894663eda3a3
53248a9f16344344b25a86bf01b6e8dfb9c4b93e
'2011-08-17T07:52:58-04:00'
describe
'9980' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMS' 'sip-files00026thm.jpg'
f7d3276aa82ab3905b2a57210cd3c564
d958023ef5305cb31a4665613c4f245b9bdf483c
'2011-08-17T07:50:52-04:00'
describe
'1108161' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMT' 'sip-files00027.jp2'
8980098ac2f701752aa5b2db78157115
279b87e9d08c99f7206f621cd364609067254d64
describe
'102628' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMU' 'sip-files00027.jpg'
b7ecd87b27cefb6925f487bec50ac847
569256a9c29e7807b8d465580b7fe307bdd8daca
'2011-08-17T07:46:42-04:00'
describe
'43058' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMV' 'sip-files00027.pro'
944cc8004f63ede766bf7940c58df65d
c13508e808bfb3eb48d5b3deffa6481e8ac6ae47
'2011-08-17T07:43:53-04:00'
describe
'37359' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMW' 'sip-files00027.QC.jpg'
7659db346a79bfb1dedb7e7f2c0ec35d
53797ecc47ddd0afe93d5604497d5e0044f5c06f
'2011-08-17T07:50:33-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMX' 'sip-files00027.tif'
0f2c0faf6e9cd19121ba51513d7e222d
21502e36e597280f0bc6e77b2c7e59147689b7f4
'2011-08-17T07:50:05-04:00'
describe
'1793' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMY' 'sip-files00027.txt'
042406212e62d0d29e877512aa144366
bd9435f3b314ad2831f998c44de3a0d1452fab1f
'2011-08-17T07:44:26-04:00'
describe
'10204' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKMZ' 'sip-files00027thm.jpg'
91c2259c9411a1eca7cf34251106c29a
91657c19d97a64a57d87806abb9f6aadb6635ae1
'2011-08-17T07:48:42-04:00'
describe
'1077644' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNA' 'sip-files00028.jp2'
77872630359bf48e80a56b7ab34be4f2
39360bb153a866f14f8a6bac1955282ccf5580c0
describe
'82958' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNB' 'sip-files00028.jpg'
b68d0833f728fb2e9746f3be0386ea36
16124b78ce071763f0f7e53b2c3cc3ef5669fa89
'2011-08-17T07:53:34-04:00'
describe
'34179' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNC' 'sip-files00028.pro'
ae06174bbd4dd46a2dbed60f92a9a4dc
fc3504dfc70abaf0c41a27ea5da34c812eb79f5f
'2011-08-17T07:46:33-04:00'
describe
'29586' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKND' 'sip-files00028.QC.jpg'
309b67f78aba509a273e79602c9a993a
9460bb245221f3380e01c3d6dfe4bba0edfbedd6
'2011-08-17T07:48:21-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNE' 'sip-files00028.tif'
0342d378673cff2c655c5e62be6f1f3c
530b8c60b3bb51c1e1f80421e3e9fcaa49ce9bf8
'2011-08-17T07:49:52-04:00'
describe
'1467' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNF' 'sip-files00028.txt'
c49cf4717de20085f1cb2fc686758fc4
1006e2513d9a057a3264c9a010c0e2212ab6ef23
'2011-08-17T07:50:57-04:00'
describe
'9163' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNG' 'sip-files00028thm.jpg'
761ffd4dcf759921869b865463f8a809
44f0b53ce3981360e655f1a5d55cb62e41bf8c7c
'2011-08-17T07:54:00-04:00'
describe
'1108219' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNH' 'sip-files00029.jp2'
5ff927c10f12fe5cdb7d02e6f5043f4e
1b588d86c7162c2ab92aa45b21b5bdaf1099bfdf
'2011-08-17T07:53:47-04:00'
describe
'86457' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNI' 'sip-files00029.jpg'
7ddb295035e6d79cb806f69db1fbc30f
c1b822852d11312d772f2d75f9c017ee975a2843
'2011-08-17T07:43:54-04:00'
describe
'34899' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNJ' 'sip-files00029.pro'
6ebd7fa18f0ea9b4fad94c75f418818b
338e9d323152a80e8b5093d33f3335715f93ae5e
'2011-08-17T07:53:03-04:00'
describe
'31329' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNK' 'sip-files00029.QC.jpg'
fcfdcfa500c9a9f9fcc2999880bc97e4
c935a6fd857fd0e8b47cae1351efd20727884127
'2011-08-17T07:52:04-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNL' 'sip-files00029.tif'
2e0904a7a26e701d7a773289c23d5e61
ac0111d103b5b015b8ddbf986b92541fe02fe9bd
'2011-08-17T07:52:56-04:00'
describe
'1515' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNM' 'sip-files00029.txt'
b548946f0da8cdc6fed90fe2ecb0df35
285767720fe230de7d5ebf4343868006f5b25ae5
'2011-08-17T07:46:04-04:00'
describe
'8743' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNN' 'sip-files00029thm.jpg'
090f59bd55ae0f5ebf68d8c7b862fcbe
01924476275028d7618acc9a12357709e63da47f
'2011-08-17T07:52:36-04:00'
describe
'1077654' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNO' 'sip-files00030.jp2'
83dabecaffd9cd3102ca319b90e57d79
36b9de0987fa537e145afb6bd24f78b1f6dd2887
'2011-08-17T07:48:14-04:00'
describe
'89987' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNP' 'sip-files00030.jpg'
011934630b456fbe2cf3985b6cb68f12
43d822bc94149377aa8f6665d9237e36fd1961df
describe
'36115' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNQ' 'sip-files00030.pro'
ac2171ccb0220628f56013433ad0e758
114ab0863f28ff98516e7d0a4f9530df59494484
'2011-08-17T07:44:41-04:00'
describe
'32676' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNR' 'sip-files00030.QC.jpg'
ce3e4de8f79a2d16409701cd2508f324
e4bfc52d53b2484a537130e764e9e90694982fe0
'2011-08-17T07:49:09-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNS' 'sip-files00030.tif'
0e6ba67ae7aebe38b8377d55187b0a70
35f6b595488033348f7ff3bc7b5ecdadb96ff522
'2011-08-17T07:51:12-04:00'
describe
'1581' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNT' 'sip-files00030.txt'
831373590ba7dc54d9a3e5cc833cab9f
92bd786136dd1d77d5ac9725c94a11f9ca991027
'2011-08-17T07:46:56-04:00'
describe
'9631' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNU' 'sip-files00030thm.jpg'
5748fa6094af03770966709de959c380
45ff27a7d630cf2267dc14ea981c977ec33c05c6
describe
'1108144' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNV' 'sip-files00031.jp2'
87e205c448fc300413d965896078ddd8
66701f9b423f39ffe93e4b2eacbc7324912e2cb6
'2011-08-17T07:52:47-04:00'
describe
'78152' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNW' 'sip-files00031.jpg'
a0bcaaf21e104deade1bcd63af1cf83b
f61ded292090693024038181af029ffc35699b36
'2011-08-17T07:51:52-04:00'
describe
'32036' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNX' 'sip-files00031.pro'
83d8bc969c3fa271698ae0eefed32e56
bb1d41c4ac47856608bfbf514d7d031f657116a9
describe
'27769' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNY' 'sip-files00031.QC.jpg'
d6f1f261fdbc97327c5b496f962725cd
e83b22eddd29cf97afdecd84b365514221e6d294
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKNZ' 'sip-files00031.tif'
6fd320008de63c2c44c5bde4d039896d
1c931cd09a4c8d833c659d2903328ea7c9a271ca
'2011-08-17T07:48:41-04:00'
describe
'1361' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOA' 'sip-files00031.txt'
84525f3a45f7f901163020458be79e3c
40fde1d79685e2fec6833275d253dfa4bbd44d61
describe
'8070' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOB' 'sip-files00031thm.jpg'
162cd449d9e51cf02faa75b9c6b9fcba
925e7d5fb1ddf46668e30ac528f597637ab3a1f5
'2011-08-17T07:49:49-04:00'
describe
'1077676' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOC' 'sip-files00032.jp2'
b53f749c9078594d10779e06f4d601ec
2d6e3c4f736d0cd4dd3c3357b67c5b764f9f8151
'2011-08-17T07:50:28-04:00'
describe
'104024' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOD' 'sip-files00032.jpg'
6f413693f9bf796f2a09a3da09032719
8ab5bfb6b36b51e2c25bf462e3ebffd24e7535e2
describe
'43568' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOE' 'sip-files00032.pro'
97276849d4f5bc30beb057200aadb246
c87f2a255e5f892e9a625c3234282b0c27fded8a
describe
'38219' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOF' 'sip-files00032.QC.jpg'
ea9d99b61207cbd4fe81767e3421e0cb
1a7452f43148050087deac9c19a1b0a5500b1850
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOG' 'sip-files00032.tif'
325a7bd1a2251c11347af483f743aacf
51ead66b36398f152a7ba5338230acf3c043da24
'2011-08-17T07:50:46-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOH' 'sip-files00032.txt'
e227f4bdaa8016156029c71d2e65832d
a90f6aaf8a7d0c6badf59269eb4df4dcd04a0963
describe
'10189' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOI' 'sip-files00032thm.jpg'
a99c994d05d9fb6a3f75905dfefc5f1e
2a042d744a6d633ace53b1cdc2f25b3ad6f62791
'2011-08-17T07:52:15-04:00'
describe
'1108230' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOJ' 'sip-files00033.jp2'
dd9a5808a952d96738728a546731c9e8
10c7790be369863b7e40f41e4cf4713db2a2e010
'2011-08-17T07:49:54-04:00'
describe
'100594' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOK' 'sip-files00033.jpg'
3d9fdeede15824bb17f8a5d9662524fb
de8a4264dba9949ba7fed19c694d29249927cff9
'2011-08-17T07:46:39-04:00'
describe
'43176' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOL' 'sip-files00033.pro'
df2de88807a7078d7113132a247a2eaa
40fbaf54c035c27ea85a69351e9fc9b857a671fb
'2011-08-17T07:50:12-04:00'
describe
'36566' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOM' 'sip-files00033.QC.jpg'
edf2064d25068ce5537e852a6dd7e741
62e5fc12d38b8bc31abce34c83fbe5a8d66c9d31
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKON' 'sip-files00033.tif'
335a64ed05b99e4517eed117f7ebccf8
c51af7c9ecec952ebf223f6c62f29388a46f4546
'2011-08-17T07:52:50-04:00'
describe
'1765' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOO' 'sip-files00033.txt'
3e9e8abc93a2c0f7be7ccdba4b450368
0475c89a408c55d749370d2ed8cf258c89dd07cf
'2011-08-17T07:52:37-04:00'
describe
'9932' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOP' 'sip-files00033thm.jpg'
1939dd049716d3ba6c67f78c1b73d71c
450bdf4aac489bdf0632253ba3cfe795fdff67f4
'2011-08-17T07:44:22-04:00'
describe
'911653' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOQ' 'sip-files00034.jp2'
c22ce544982f6015f2932b28c5856858
1e09783d38b4a8a8b3c9e7b73dad1a2bf7d0e827
'2011-08-17T07:53:28-04:00'
describe
'34993' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOR' 'sip-files00034.jpg'
b8796eaca7b84c34190e96b2767a7fdd
6bfbf677491017bb43d81b3fccf4ab918cf31c13
describe
'10610' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOS' 'sip-files00034.pro'
c554c2b30aef045473707c890b252e74
748e499cb5064abef9e55a45d09ab49ba79473be
'2011-08-17T07:51:02-04:00'
describe
'12113' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOT' 'sip-files00034.QC.jpg'
2159bef78f6a9ab8e1268992bba627c1
b4c99d059313c5a24316a828d72635d35d7067c2
'2011-08-17T07:44:51-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOU' 'sip-files00034.tif'
28d684ffa9cf5ca1f2fe6c1ec71e04a3
92e794002a3de089f11edd0c706197a0bd354722
'2011-08-17T07:51:19-04:00'
describe
'470' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOV' 'sip-files00034.txt'
849a63fdd73b16e94b2873a304bc1034
654c9bfe97564375448aa792f1f55b4c050a7495
'2011-08-17T07:51:06-04:00'
describe
'3614' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOW' 'sip-files00034thm.jpg'
65b8ac26e89407609c17e74a73b26881
e40f80a2eff8d06dce7a7fa205451257c31954f5
'2011-08-17T07:50:39-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOX' 'sip-files00035.jp2'
7e719568df295a35bf2f7649a31d6336
8b11b7165e066e38c4726fad7e8dccc2d921375c
'2011-08-17T07:44:25-04:00'
describe
'80446' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOY' 'sip-files00035.jpg'
a1268e36a3971d2d7ed8460acccbf164
fe3acbbfc59fdc5a66c85f9d75c2bfac6606b67a
'2011-08-17T07:54:10-04:00'
describe
'31629' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKOZ' 'sip-files00035.pro'
602c69591f63701c3b7f46d80fa13094
fe6339fd512a9c104eefd504943096ebfa7d325f
'2011-08-17T07:52:24-04:00'
describe
'28477' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPA' 'sip-files00035.QC.jpg'
fa50610c7832be90a8adef34a9507b34
0abd245b0e748aa8c6da57c13ee81db299863dcb
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPB' 'sip-files00035.tif'
d8d65f3c84b8140a3e54705c6f5aaff5
04c3bcc4d20b3b16c460862607d272afd3b31df5
'2011-08-17T07:50:45-04:00'
describe
'1319' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPC' 'sip-files00035.txt'
f7b3cc746efcf5ca4ee39012bcc371fe
92db82654711aceee27e6919fddfe87e1c311f03
'2011-08-17T07:47:32-04:00'
describe
'7767' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPD' 'sip-files00035thm.jpg'
42dab524a5a93f19a881bffba4d693f0
5e30ffe1104d5d8c6ea1f2f377d76a42844037db
'2011-08-17T07:52:53-04:00'
describe
'1077680' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPE' 'sip-files00036.jp2'
54e22a9726854d376c512df73f0d0cec
5542438762443c743a882e3ad3dda28fa6c9c910
'2011-08-17T07:52:28-04:00'
describe
'100662' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPF' 'sip-files00036.jpg'
9bb07dfd94f0aed15ba7ae45b1867e25
d9b35936e8cfda67cf076ee134c0186d76066bc2
'2011-08-17T07:53:50-04:00'
describe
'41140' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPG' 'sip-files00036.pro'
eff11eed8137605a6a829dc04744ad9b
435de086e863d0d92a3aa0babea678019c6c83c0
'2011-08-17T07:50:00-04:00'
describe
'35916' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPH' 'sip-files00036.QC.jpg'
a3e5aac136097fd8c55266a5be29c6a7
e7fb885e9564b9e4b90e6bd891950828f3fc5c0d
'2011-08-17T07:52:26-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPI' 'sip-files00036.tif'
e4e9f229f2e4e9fd0d6177d29c31774a
d6b42f7f8bbe37de55134ddefcf698db7eb2bc36
'2011-08-17T07:43:37-04:00'
describe
'1715' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPJ' 'sip-files00036.txt'
ddeb52f004f8fcfc7e6c8b37c7ec5fab
8f3815271d6bad67c0cd3bca01405d795901c418
'2011-08-17T07:45:03-04:00'
describe
'10110' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPK' 'sip-files00036thm.jpg'
f18297b068b625dd59f1d71f6118e644
07340fe7c7011d418f89c7de7ea91857c1e6820e
describe
'1108222' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPL' 'sip-files00037.jp2'
cff7fb2cdde8f4a7c04fce984d2891d0
6e73332e491567a77e4f5daef76f602fb91027a7
describe
'98341' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPM' 'sip-files00037.jpg'
6258c0aa9e22777a8919884e820492cd
3879742c5f7a958aba4d29e1aafebb26e3ebd71a
'2011-08-17T07:53:53-04:00'
describe
'40993' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPN' 'sip-files00037.pro'
88f5bce1708fe832f30cebcfba21b49c
97cbf9f0b90ee6381dde641ea1b46b12da1c761e
describe
'36473' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPO' 'sip-files00037.QC.jpg'
744863258beb0ecc385d9a9eeb06e093
bd9ad475f6dd4e9b1dd56f51f067525b95647f54
'2011-08-17T07:42:57-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPP' 'sip-files00037.tif'
8cac6968d1148241b840174e7be2a94d
0bb5e5ce2941bbdae8dea26b0c8105d65ccd14cd
'2011-08-17T07:46:07-04:00'
describe
'1683' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPQ' 'sip-files00037.txt'
92e5f6161338c85861595472b0b62218
d0e96585b72fce65966b51a81c5a78e3f7815f1a
describe
'10007' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPR' 'sip-files00037thm.jpg'
2166e21611c5d3b2545cea2792e6a0b4
4a610d74a4ede18397d3bcef862d09ba269ac228
'2011-08-17T07:45:09-04:00'
describe
'1042314' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPS' 'sip-files00038.jp2'
5c43cbac600b9dab1fa2cba5d7afa9c3
4d83d3a2f5b32bd6fc70a0e200e7de2bf24a121c
'2011-08-17T07:49:26-04:00'
describe
'98819' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPT' 'sip-files00038.jpg'
0a2de71fc06e8539a17546e349c375a3
19b39e2f844165fa0e60a8a813e6bb3824af7e55
'2011-08-17T07:50:26-04:00'
describe
'40608' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPU' 'sip-files00038.pro'
646fb1b38f2d4af300a6a63533b20d9f
a044b898dfbbdeda15eac68c2da9e1c97f9f192f
'2011-08-17T07:53:13-04:00'
describe
'36347' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPV' 'sip-files00038.QC.jpg'
efa6af769224d1129d35fe5d376aae4f
e203279831e1b851ed37e1eebc9c79bd24dd6e81
'2011-08-17T07:44:15-04:00'
describe
'8348141' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPW' 'sip-files00038.tif'
f96d15420273fac5e153397faecfb2a4
07c5249c70754036f3666aedbaba32b7d6757ea4
'2011-08-17T07:46:03-04:00'
describe
'1702' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPX' 'sip-files00038.txt'
deaec413ab86aaa067d736a314b5954d
035296d49d6651d0dbeaf9706a27860d4b8229b6
describe
'10471' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPY' 'sip-files00038thm.jpg'
7e91aa962cd276093c433955b6dfde5d
c1644becff1ebdca8104cf95426d151651029d98
'2011-08-17T07:49:02-04:00'
describe
'1108221' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKPZ' 'sip-files00039.jp2'
5ab43db4ea5fb4d97c8342fee19f63a2
e3d09e90fae7620e600b43505ae87e2ca4c8fc7a
describe
'96486' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQA' 'sip-files00039.jpg'
f338814f78679878caf76d77d8903f90
c9baf73d37fb95d18e7397c3e972b5a524a5f9ce
describe
'40847' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQB' 'sip-files00039.pro'
71f2969cbfafb59d8b6bf4defd5daa4f
e5cc0e424d468ad48a2929493be575ec1f4a93b8
'2011-08-17T07:49:30-04:00'
describe
'34493' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQC' 'sip-files00039.QC.jpg'
7c361792352c126d83901ef64c1ed758
08947e2a5b476ca654c2b1c27048f4f1a3f3718e
'2011-08-17T07:47:44-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQD' 'sip-files00039.tif'
f6124ba9a1e09018c04fea695b991108
21cadb51e2fd7d5472e91a3bcb67c859a958e0f6
describe
'1687' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQE' 'sip-files00039.txt'
f42a7f36ecfc37fd4b28b0d4240ce640
df6990020323cd9b7c0b52bfb84e9c35a864776a
describe
'9404' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQF' 'sip-files00039thm.jpg'
dca5a0b0b58e2c658cd12944dc3f671a
9217a4e015b926b43881a54b44cb5bbac84a5b5f
describe
'1077630' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQG' 'sip-files00040.jp2'
c3d4e7e3abd3fde404b892f6a266be1d
ea6e01063b76c733ea81c7db2042f2650b193dc3
describe
'93897' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQH' 'sip-files00040.jpg'
3f35373fb029247e93f38c40856ebac2
5f37c597bd3f75af68dd5a64049c90e6596ebf4e
'2011-08-17T07:49:35-04:00'
describe
'38429' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQI' 'sip-files00040.pro'
b1931b7d6758b9873e5a35ed96d319d9
f629690fcf3fe36dc82a89a7e71fb9b8181272a3
'2011-08-17T07:52:07-04:00'
describe
'33424' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQJ' 'sip-files00040.QC.jpg'
72b00d3235b92d1e9e6ccb99a3aa48b9
5f92123fa4e6417d9a10c8d5759056365becb57b
'2011-08-17T07:47:00-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQK' 'sip-files00040.tif'
64453e866184e8a6b918bb73f14839ed
8576b04adf5708e4bc832342ab1606ffd09edf34
'2011-08-17T07:45:02-04:00'
describe
'1616' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQL' 'sip-files00040.txt'
5802d48d5e40037db1ff0207282451e2
45cebbae492fc03fd6061b6701103e705ef9a73d
'2011-08-17T07:51:41-04:00'
describe
'9681' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQM' 'sip-files00040thm.jpg'
f06e6fe65cc45442e3eb7f3608b67eff
d00f68eebb1a6c2ce43a15642f63dc4a19804013
'2011-08-17T07:45:21-04:00'
describe
'1108229' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQN' 'sip-files00041.jp2'
859ca4a4928a5782ba5182cce24ca2bc
d8d9db9b52eea94ba04a7383b72d17a15f6d09d6
describe
'101903' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQO' 'sip-files00041.jpg'
974f981e2c22979f1aeead7cc4ba59e7
699e44f7c620025f21ac3d28bdfcef763d6520ee
'2011-08-17T07:50:53-04:00'
describe
'43527' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQP' 'sip-files00041.pro'
3b2ed911d6dd423330305f5dbb92998e
5d63f1c59e2cd3f1510c3984e89abc1566fd570c
describe
'37384' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQQ' 'sip-files00041.QC.jpg'
38e61fd682c1bdf1b7d9696668e6080b
a0bebdb3b5bb87627862f3dd2db7aa554ee487d7
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQR' 'sip-files00041.tif'
0a77e11e067b9b82348b86d00f790b2b
036b803c9136d837e5c6ab98a99baa77f91ab4cf
describe
'1789' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQS' 'sip-files00041.txt'
caa8bcffefa9797ffb23cf046a87dc7c
49c5a1f6c26e5e4d1b7090bb888f1544ddfe4ab1
'2011-08-17T07:49:08-04:00'
describe
'9911' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQT' 'sip-files00041thm.jpg'
df95cfa990b5f487084e8e1c50b7ebaf
8bbf1aad30ee00529ff2891f886998c92c2c1cf6
'2011-08-17T07:51:01-04:00'
describe
'1077669' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQU' 'sip-files00042.jp2'
1f4005f4016d4e8ba0d68eb5a8a1f3ac
0cc138278bb25a94ec1dab2d194bd6fbd1a61308
describe
'94676' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQV' 'sip-files00042.jpg'
ebaf0f2b29c003064e201ed9410b7435
886dd5d8ee4a72cb9b37e8171e16a861fc5b8cbb
describe
'38266' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQW' 'sip-files00042.pro'
2d25fd90f4c0b5f84df18bd95cae2c4f
5954fb60789ed2e11c751280377477800145e0a3
'2011-08-17T07:52:03-04:00'
describe
'34963' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQX' 'sip-files00042.QC.jpg'
66b8cbc8f7a046c457d46f7a12de5bcd
c4842bef75f020c2c8d0671508a3f97dfc64c37b
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQY' 'sip-files00042.tif'
9c96bfd25c7f4c3eec0b9712a16ba230
ffe8071103d47c854e83693c321fb2c565793f0a
'2011-08-17T07:46:31-04:00'
describe
'1600' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKQZ' 'sip-files00042.txt'
8e398866929784c69e6243f900cfa9d2
ca3d6ef54fd6cd8138dd4a38fd93f6c4686cb6bd
'2011-08-17T07:48:05-04:00'
describe
'10030' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRA' 'sip-files00042thm.jpg'
5d9a9f8fe336cd59ebc1a5cae5706d7a
71c9fc44b8878b6cfed0b0e677404a4f13a9a636
'2011-08-17T07:54:01-04:00'
describe
'1108211' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRB' 'sip-files00043.jp2'
351eabc74b8568830ab0affe60e05779
677f5eca390923ffbfc7639b1bc9ea6fb9724caa
'2011-08-17T07:49:23-04:00'
describe
'99761' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRC' 'sip-files00043.jpg'
f7ff2304fd101bb821562ff30f832329
ac0a2bf7e0fd6840b53bea6a0412a30bf39ad505
'2011-08-17T07:51:34-04:00'
describe
'41237' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRD' 'sip-files00043.pro'
ae98e52826bb80e1b0bd34537fc7c45b
47ec62efd2b6cc18bccb369b00bceb7e9a04c630
describe
'36119' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRE' 'sip-files00043.QC.jpg'
71f37c927090bb2b969a3c874af6c3e9
f921de771fafa0f6c12a9696b61ee777f7843ef0
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRF' 'sip-files00043.tif'
fc4454cf421be01904ce3ce663e50bd1
6e4c064318e3c69c4ac6e2838ee6ffe56954c6d2
'2011-08-17T07:49:32-04:00'
describe
'1739' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRG' 'sip-files00043.txt'
ce76506efd967d7c2e9efb702c9abe39
91482760aeed0b2982502bbc0b742697afdf20c0
'2011-08-17T07:50:37-04:00'
describe
'9649' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRH' 'sip-files00043thm.jpg'
6bd1be129c9535f6281340ff360639c5
e237ee0bbf7456c2dd56a6ca31f0110935c40ae8
'2011-08-17T07:44:06-04:00'
describe
'1025762' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRI' 'sip-files00044.jp2'
91bb8f3de69029d246b06e07a4e6dfd3
ce3ed88dcb38b545d59c5ee39787284f0e113ae5
'2011-08-17T07:43:25-04:00'
describe
'78357' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRJ' 'sip-files00044.jpg'
6a800e0aed7d8c94b3d7d6974680d005
705540ce476d76350233c82b3946fff64f414433
'2011-08-17T07:48:22-04:00'
describe
'30536' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRK' 'sip-files00044.pro'
81c8c401326cc000cbb78cf052e51b43
96fd632268fa7b0a181ceed590275b9a90ef2144
'2011-08-17T07:45:22-04:00'
describe
'27635' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRL' 'sip-files00044.QC.jpg'
815bc88a1ed76b3515fce676ffca5731
b7ee434697c0eeb824fbca01db655adbf8d0c87e
'2011-08-17T07:45:20-04:00'
describe
'8215723' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRM' 'sip-files00044.tif'
a13eeac6e0e64d7ef36fe6d4d764acd9
61d54c6749077ea73bf4f400c25d77e83b3d5fa3
'2011-08-17T07:45:53-04:00'
describe
'1258' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRN' 'sip-files00044.txt'
ddca242f8acb37fb2714e331090d5239
e3d8462af4b6333822203bdd7e70c2415603d232
describe
'8416' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRO' 'sip-files00044thm.jpg'
893e58dabaed41a84bcc3303432b6103
e58f618b65c7fba5c6ca1a4e6d5d9e5f7be8ffb3
describe
'1108199' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRP' 'sip-files00045.jp2'
3d8490f46d2afb5654d9d9474e8eaa78
3979fd2def3ee54a6a37b95a560f4318f97ccfb1
'2011-08-17T07:44:35-04:00'
describe
'75901' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRQ' 'sip-files00045.jpg'
4273d21e0ea5dda6fa7b6a902f5abfd4
8d2c30b20b821e8ec57ed8cd6285775e10e90740
describe
'30223' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRR' 'sip-files00045.pro'
27b3ca42182e28a81b16858cba7c6cca
c17407ddb8131c139ca36ec8f8289cf1a40f4762
describe
'26621' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRS' 'sip-files00045.QC.jpg'
f9ad5b756700df3fc915ae3504365105
30d3dafa1b5865a3bbb53d6dbc4c70e003daf9a1
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRT' 'sip-files00045.tif'
9afa16c0ef0176417debe2c9169117b6
8b98cf81aef2a8ed4bf15b5b2d9ae1fa3c83835a
'2011-08-17T07:43:39-04:00'
describe
'1266' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRU' 'sip-files00045.txt'
ec861cd937257ef7afc26558c4026473
838b7bc49c836b8bb9a45f59c46bc62258916710
'2011-08-17T07:53:01-04:00'
describe
'7321' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRV' 'sip-files00045thm.jpg'
cd1854ea3b0aecd4893a4d73e0d45cbe
f29a445750fdfc260e94f14faf85b4e506bb7448
describe
'1077681' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRW' 'sip-files00046.jp2'
2b0128ec9525bf0364dbf23bcef08c44
8e9c9dc629999f86272dedaac4de39a49de357c8
describe
'105418' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRX' 'sip-files00046.jpg'
9dd604077be713cb411e8a6e7ff5b226
b01f1fdcbf2c9244e9df6f1f2a8db7e7d22f94eb
describe
'43558' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRY' 'sip-files00046.pro'
8dd62852249842d5df5b85e3528553aa
1017c671a964ec63800d5fb70f03c5af42abcd61
'2011-08-17T07:47:04-04:00'
describe
'37879' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKRZ' 'sip-files00046.QC.jpg'
002c917a13f85d492de209f2fbe912f4
c763f22a4daf4d1083340d5dae0597722be7891c
'2011-08-17T07:44:18-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSA' 'sip-files00046.tif'
ff57b59080d160247500655d58c6ef8e
041d56a8735debd90c7bce3ea8f84badbca84994
'2011-08-17T07:43:31-04:00'
describe
'1779' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSB' 'sip-files00046.txt'
5477bba928df4ad2836fc20d593994c6
c41c6f7c76c2779f542f176f986e134cf62a338a
'2011-08-17T07:46:43-04:00'
describe
'10377' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSC' 'sip-files00046thm.jpg'
3713f5fa5c99b169e919bb8d7202277f
2d9885187508068dd2283010afbddd8c70d7f705
'2011-08-17T07:54:02-04:00'
describe
'1108226' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSD' 'sip-files00047.jp2'
f7a1534a97ec7a3c00e1472b196efbad
917de82ae422516bb1ad3cf71735db7b7e6e219a
'2011-08-17T07:44:47-04:00'
describe
'98011' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSE' 'sip-files00047.jpg'
337f63f3d55e4e43817d23047fa9d393
60f8d1e325abd8fd9918009f7ac28543cad92e1c
describe
'40308' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSF' 'sip-files00047.pro'
f9e3b05f18905f1636ef93a76796b0b3
f3047a79f65e55c86cfcc1881460a4c7ec856987
'2011-08-17T07:50:54-04:00'
describe
'35877' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSG' 'sip-files00047.QC.jpg'
f0228b763f6d5df13370070becdcd68d
62f38c20b68dd74e04c705c8a6ec4fe893684fe6
'2011-08-17T07:49:47-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSH' 'sip-files00047.tif'
777542c5291ecdaa8fe85a4b1f6970cf
b45071c13c379a391fdf420c5f96fe910955f24a
'2011-08-17T07:44:37-04:00'
describe
'1651' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSI' 'sip-files00047.txt'
478528cf981974b4a55424c41a5338a3
505daae4b91246049174a5ca10887f79a74c022d
'2011-08-17T07:43:35-04:00'
describe
'9977' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSJ' 'sip-files00047thm.jpg'
bb3c118a96f20b03e490878d53297332
94d45343aafc6a26f59bb89d72fd817631fce5f3
'2011-08-17T07:47:18-04:00'
describe
'993129' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSK' 'sip-files00048.jp2'
2ab3296e101685fafca7ad2e44dd4c7f
ece740a40fc2a53445fcef482318ff1b2d13ac6c
'2011-08-17T07:50:47-04:00'
describe
'99412' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSL' 'sip-files00048.jpg'
ee75c90029744a6390d7c30a5fa735fd
5f581f124a9688ccaf0bdc109ae55a04fa8ea99f
'2011-08-17T07:42:56-04:00'
describe
'40836' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSM' 'sip-files00048.pro'
046d7b4e027c9250224fb7a99c34d181
4e2716fee1e65b702c4f8be051f67df33c99dd07
'2011-08-17T07:50:16-04:00'
describe
'36311' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSN' 'sip-files00048.QC.jpg'
dd1a88a376eda4aacdd2f112f1fac289
d7d81c77b4b50c3e6e2e079eefe0944fea09ec92
describe
'7955055' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSO' 'sip-files00048.tif'
fb90e3e2494d95d3aca59e9e97f9cd6c
d87766f45eb70a1bdb500f284f2c9c1290caa94f
'2011-08-17T07:48:18-04:00'
describe
'1693' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSP' 'sip-files00048.txt'
d1b915c8b6a704d77d03df25fab47c34
863327c507ce884689c749496f1f0912718678fb
'2011-08-17T07:52:31-04:00'
describe
'11447' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSQ' 'sip-files00048thm.jpg'
a611c95b1deefdbaf55a5cfc40fec3b2
cea6ba199eb7d18280aaf1f716185fd0f722cdd4
'2011-08-17T07:49:12-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSR' 'sip-files00049.jp2'
b7756b98ae6c97b85c5cc904d1a58f9a
f635d9ff8bc7b06e8e439a601cdcb143e6125f91
'2011-08-17T07:50:36-04:00'
describe
'101661' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSS' 'sip-files00049.jpg'
53af58e125dcb3ee2725ca3a7a42d66f
ef5bf21a28aae6345ae09cb30294020a796987c6
'2011-08-17T07:53:41-04:00'
describe
'44361' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKST' 'sip-files00049.pro'
07a56fe8c50df77e5fab727840ccb175
84fa93a06b8eb00a2b7dd23c08e6df894bfefd5f
describe
'35955' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSU' 'sip-files00049.QC.jpg'
2407491f3012bf45030bc9c0230d0f01
c5a36c93578f44eff071acc1988640d146387002
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSV' 'sip-files00049.tif'
e5272a3a1ef5caaf9483a9ef854f527a
6479217cb6747bd2ff93f93db699b81bfffc584e
describe
'1803' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSW' 'sip-files00049.txt'
fab39f2c97083eb5b79461dc8126d3d3
d6531653e23b8ec9e3ae6b3cbe8ec85438de9452
describe
'9704' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSX' 'sip-files00049thm.jpg'
ae4f5fbee04d20c096c0ffacc32c5078
9377ab7fec00317192fa371f32205517fedf00db
describe
'1006490' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSY' 'sip-files00050.jp2'
af320a5f21e7666193783c6ccd116cbc
f0a46d48d1a39733deda7b65b6b819da55752858
'2011-08-17T07:45:11-04:00'
describe
'98843' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKSZ' 'sip-files00050.jpg'
de75c7f896ec1692458539ead6cb53fa
ca7c0770096f0b1e1839bf745eb59b9e2f11ba9e
describe
'41806' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTA' 'sip-files00050.pro'
b506cd0fef47a0c5d3b97d5a83654bcf
5e771497abfa7374da632d9f15526f48703407ea
'2011-08-17T07:49:06-04:00'
describe
'35657' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTB' 'sip-files00050.QC.jpg'
21287113a0e3fc37dd9073f8f45d2beb
654347f5102190f4eaceb9930c32e2257b708dac
'2011-08-17T07:50:19-04:00'
describe
'8061545' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTC' 'sip-files00050.tif'
f6eed96d457d2af64f9d4e4dbaf223b5
97ec95c6c7d51d1f1d6bc8ae0391eca3648e57fc
describe
'1732' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTD' 'sip-files00050.txt'
d3e15af29f43cece09fe42e32e96ead4
733b663df833e95649a9d7fece81a524b41f0187
'2011-08-17T07:49:19-04:00'
describe
'10962' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTE' 'sip-files00050thm.jpg'
9761d9b2eeae70524e91ac7c6abec2d2
720df1960a74ecaff7243a955c874bf88ddc4a1e
describe
'1108146' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTF' 'sip-files00051.jp2'
698666030affccfca593def84225344e
3e91a4668cf67604ca9e1674e9bbcf51412458fc
'2011-08-17T07:44:01-04:00'
describe
'92153' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTG' 'sip-files00051.jpg'
7c2e88e41f85ab1999d49432f4621581
789d6e012553b66d6908cb27c4f4092c8fe0e9c8
describe
'39331' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTH' 'sip-files00051.pro'
caf3498299403ac727987d0e15a6e0b2
59cbefed72bdfdbbac5f699a1c7e5dcc6773b902
'2011-08-17T07:52:16-04:00'
describe
'33777' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTI' 'sip-files00051.QC.jpg'
58bffa6d8eac115ca72f07ea8df0cfc1
922277726157f70023e823135bb26175363019e1
'2011-08-17T07:47:34-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTJ' 'sip-files00051.tif'
e200c05d6ef24b7b041e4030f773ffc5
186e18f63fad2aa8734fd8e6569e0c2b6b918abd
describe
'1624' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTK' 'sip-files00051.txt'
2d4552e0180faa82ec7f88c5c4893765
11fdfea8398a630747db4e6c9592c7266031539d
describe
'9628' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTL' 'sip-files00051thm.jpg'
f63ea51437723980e50d2ac0e3a12169
6991bdb9e2092710fe57be774ce9d1c7aae3b28d
describe
'1016374' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTM' 'sip-files00052.jp2'
32ac1dc0158c4b4464e1cae9ddebc8ad
f2f6a46b27ff7cf0c43b8dba3489be18c3b3f626
'2011-08-17T07:53:37-04:00'
describe
'90704' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTN' 'sip-files00052.jpg'
c85db03808c0ea4d9d347024a3e186f1
3d8fe1e1dc4614b20aa25e0f7a73345630d4dfc6
'2011-08-17T07:47:10-04:00'
describe
'37580' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTO' 'sip-files00052.pro'
55d8be41317b7e9e18d7f618c4496aa8
ae553b8c5acfb4bc285771881d074da0e72178bf
'2011-08-17T07:48:44-04:00'
describe
'33901' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTP' 'sip-files00052.QC.jpg'
ddcb363cc8520074093c4a7f17020107
6fe642aae9bfd34beb3296ea0d728459921a1c1e
'2011-08-17T07:44:55-04:00'
describe
'8140735' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTQ' 'sip-files00052.tif'
6620a9bb382318717bc216a38be10bc3
cb078ac496e526d7851bb398230873aa4c7b03f1
'2011-08-17T07:43:43-04:00'
describe
'1576' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTR' 'sip-files00052.txt'
b82a41305e9202afc2fc1fd39bf559d0
09f297ea20653f650f4f5ce9d2c15443a698d3f7
'2011-08-17T07:53:07-04:00'
describe
'10488' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTS' 'sip-files00052thm.jpg'
69d2c346845e0b12290ea8de168468ab
2e6ecc1b7712ae6d213409dc0569ac0a9a79edfd
'2011-08-17T07:43:44-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTT' 'sip-files00053.jp2'
992608287ebc6de320f0ad8d49d9e4d9
9ca5976d7b281b65d16513d0987443716cc4556e
describe
'92092' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTU' 'sip-files00053.jpg'
34852f07a58317976c67fe4b3f49243f
4ac0f5e1159f9c1b67106b7c42133f01ea4fff32
'2011-08-17T07:51:29-04:00'
describe
'39341' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTV' 'sip-files00053.pro'
a7329ffd6a917bb33fb90eede82d432f
c9b075d7e981c93d2d8575619b9c76dfbfd0c26b
describe
'33065' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTW' 'sip-files00053.QC.jpg'
98c5e85af96a7a68cccdd84fcfa4b316
a76971ca506d7f173d90cea4ee317a3f07938446
'2011-08-17T07:52:21-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTX' 'sip-files00053.tif'
2673a6bc4d3c4e75b02941c4892b7a4a
15aee6e3e44cefe9c2fce3747430d30e66022b06
describe
'1626' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTY' 'sip-files00053.txt'
57a4ab3faff7b6431b18ea4458b92449
b7117d02a21cf08912d1891ef41e7a25a3989a49
'2011-08-17T07:52:01-04:00'
describe
'9099' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKTZ' 'sip-files00053thm.jpg'
b76c84ee6a4751997b678ce9487bca8a
1160aa2d1adcf9aba1fe7912540464d864343c86
'2011-08-17T07:44:54-04:00'
describe
'1009684' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUA' 'sip-files00054.jp2'
409411a5290bb4e1c3d8deba66d2c77f
931e72f23e1ead51f2b762d4b1c1444e795b5672
'2011-08-17T07:53:38-04:00'
describe
'92644' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUB' 'sip-files00054.jpg'
fa477479513affed147d65e6b772d050
dc7ff7ca145fa499cac3367ac27cfb7f73c06748
'2011-08-17T07:43:11-04:00'
describe
'38871' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUC' 'sip-files00054.pro'
d613c3b5de14dda58426381927141fe2
f249e2f70b536e9d1419bebb35fd639b7da300f3
'2011-08-17T07:48:29-04:00'
describe
'33628' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUD' 'sip-files00054.QC.jpg'
920ec7020353411794f8755d4766c99e
0fb47b8fde473826741901d3ed50dfbab5487e8c
'2011-08-17T07:47:42-04:00'
describe
'8087339' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUE' 'sip-files00054.tif'
98e5604f6ed3ffe18578313074eb5f5d
fd5aeacae778296e0e000625d9f9d0edb70ba4e7
describe
'1614' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUF' 'sip-files00054.txt'
405b9e2cf4a9a5d0296c6569cb819743
de0096000d3f3b4ebf17a01dfcb34f7df1f0d676
describe
'10474' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUG' 'sip-files00054thm.jpg'
d29979ab2983f34b4408df1ea4f4b9bb
d403df1c30e4ccd580cf7ef9fbf9d481a5f08740
'2011-08-17T07:43:30-04:00'
describe
'1108214' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUH' 'sip-files00055.jp2'
ec79262a53c5cf6006dff2d925a0bee4
388bdf20c787b797c83e05ea2861969a17f0e620
'2011-08-17T07:44:13-04:00'
describe
'96495' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUI' 'sip-files00055.jpg'
666166b2078d7b0c51eaa0f490982ac4
2f6292b54771973a9441080aca37bf6c98379859
'2011-08-17T07:52:29-04:00'
describe
'40940' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUJ' 'sip-files00055.pro'
dfe060575a358ed063f885b795114f84
1fb9ef0e63a6cd7d8efcd9ce341afed1f0dbc9b0
describe
'35056' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUK' 'sip-files00055.QC.jpg'
fcf194e98ca2612608a51ceaefd91c63
e46290a0e0836ecd44c43e365c8a103ae33ee3c6
'2011-08-17T07:51:25-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUL' 'sip-files00055.tif'
71d943e53bd251c9d664df7653b8e305
c88fef0be09cfa121eed987d4f43f22bb6e3964d
'2011-08-17T07:48:43-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUM' 'sip-files00055.txt'
123715f71fb5a4e38fdbc9511fd2e876
f7c0c5fa9467325bc1071c70cfcf0ef7bdeb794b
'2011-08-17T07:50:20-04:00'
describe
'9607' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUN' 'sip-files00055thm.jpg'
fedb37b76d4a3ae69be9b43f0459025c
0dbdbdb83243f4356bc9f98c34d64bfdfb39f8cc
describe
'1017739' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUO' 'sip-files00056.jp2'
02033944754999325d7980d47d5ca233
825b35e3f91e558c6148a8c9b46ae54ff92b790c
'2011-08-17T07:47:03-04:00'
describe
'77144' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUP' 'sip-files00056.jpg'
840e1ff61d70a4a2d20a8a890f0a4fdb
334b558199b9914846524b92ae3c5abf08d0530f
'2011-08-17T07:52:18-04:00'
describe
'31663' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUQ' 'sip-files00056.pro'
d65228df186efecd28afd3ab68a3659f
4e08c47399b9606dbaa0fe1e71f30059b91173d6
'2011-08-17T07:49:10-04:00'
describe
'28074' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUR' 'sip-files00056.QC.jpg'
cd7700be6b91a73042a0ca8a22ffae1d
126edf58c765682b417072ea0de43a3a6ec5f6a8
describe
'8151531' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUS' 'sip-files00056.tif'
6d8e993426bee5194535f37f92c2845b
aec85271bc055b0aa49a060a481c230d5a40cc4b
'2011-08-17T07:51:31-04:00'
describe
'1394' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUT' 'sip-files00056.txt'
7d30140969a57d3a3fa3b2beb9eed04a
659adbbd65ed28a834380abfcfdd997e3fb0bd58
'2011-08-17T07:47:21-04:00'
describe
'9085' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUU' 'sip-files00056thm.jpg'
a3c2d89a2411387f8444c9378fb93dc7
2381485e9b3954a91f66f3d650677f34810c2ed3
describe
'1108188' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUV' 'sip-files00057.jp2'
446766ed757f59183a29b1aae81712c0
f6daa5e644e99fd2874dd80137c0405191ef5b3b
describe
'72871' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUW' 'sip-files00057.jpg'
e9583ab9064418491cb73139fd3d301c
95307f9633fedca0a2a354f69915666901240162
'2011-08-17T07:51:36-04:00'
describe
'30767' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUX' 'sip-files00057.pro'
75c187ce336b44ab533f646837e3848f
ceede88d263f1737e1e76f1374fc9d5bdf81b82d
'2011-08-17T07:51:50-04:00'
describe
'25705' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUY' 'sip-files00057.QC.jpg'
2fd0f476feb5b063774abc98fcb3358d
56167d2f6c7abb0dbdeffec423d3e4cd00651bc1
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKUZ' 'sip-files00057.tif'
b2bff7c28e3a252c9d0a13116caa90b3
328329928e35ced35b761cba4a9882b72ab87878
'2011-08-17T07:43:15-04:00'
describe
'1448' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVA' 'sip-files00057.txt'
2fffa8360a1eed90f5fb1dba2361e3c1
aff39444898ec9c5947f0e27444e14c0d410de8e
'2011-08-17T07:44:24-04:00'
describe
'7763' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVB' 'sip-files00057thm.jpg'
feb4422073dfdcbbe2a7c7afab6d1027
092313ff281a78e7994e20355e3820d6f18124cc
describe
'1027651' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVC' 'sip-files00058.jp2'
e1fd02aa74f6dd59023d22591c9f5109
f14cc5a07ae0cbaeabe3bdf2e013729a2c3950c6
describe
'100982' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVD' 'sip-files00058.jpg'
adab4a874f98c9921700a9d21e73f77d
d6502845a56bbca0c8226878690d538829edba46
'2011-08-17T07:47:19-04:00'
describe
'43328' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVE' 'sip-files00058.pro'
97ea9bc5383045316449cef10fd2f0f1
f83422164cc45fd637b2791d76f4c5e6fd3a6be5
'2011-08-17T07:43:38-04:00'
describe
'36177' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVF' 'sip-files00058.QC.jpg'
4e4b41e77c9c03a60a92e989f78ef778
8b16e02879b1249c67a3fa6f70ac25f896ac1c33
describe
'8231037' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVG' 'sip-files00058.tif'
c00741f63a61accd5b6c1eb5f1b6b6e4
de062959e3b960b9184e25609f4f79a74023c058
'2011-08-17T07:50:23-04:00'
describe
'1829' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVH' 'sip-files00058.txt'
6256baefb134c68bd5c4cb0dcf69aff5
99747cf73b586f02a9f7056a3892b68c16d6a158
describe
'10843' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVI' 'sip-files00058thm.jpg'
59fdd67531c8a3cb3a06a924b71558f7
d26a50b0fb98cbf35b6281645d52e307ee65b4ea
'2011-08-17T07:45:32-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVJ' 'sip-files00059.jp2'
3cd1300a32ef3ae0042e3167dd6c00e2
6dfab4cdc369de3b3b1c2e93a4a71d269cec1386
describe
'100821' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVK' 'sip-files00059.jpg'
106a79dd6e74e15c509a005e4e9ffba5
fb86f5f1ef7a501ecc49c5bd07d31bb602d43639
describe
'42272' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVL' 'sip-files00059.pro'
a5b6de5ccc962a356d5cf4a93bf9022a
ac9c50e5f5d94406d52b24cc1de8f4d1f2f54dc1
describe
'37204' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVM' 'sip-files00059.QC.jpg'
44fb19c5f3147375417411b78ccb7435
79ff33d9b76a0a8b50aa17d575f445fe57bd97d7
'2011-08-17T07:49:38-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVN' 'sip-files00059.tif'
2d14bd8f19b13d9b7395fcb12a961ce9
d15c8a54ec68eab77025b63bbb2b3c639629084b
describe
'1737' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVO' 'sip-files00059.txt'
b02c0c07b45da62f7077ebc2a0372fdd
a24d4b58c33946f7cc1e1cb95aa5de437566263c
describe
'10094' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVP' 'sip-files00059thm.jpg'
9167b0b984779b42594794a7c15bf561
3cbd6c36ceb7734411ad27e6439ba8e595dbbd2e
'2011-08-17T07:52:51-04:00'
describe
'1115092' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVQ' 'sip-filesBack.jp2'
13ded74b5c9d49cd2956ca152f0a2068
9238404e6d87dbe3ac631c6728834efb9af48173
'2011-08-17T07:44:14-04:00'
describe
'1011269' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVR' 'sip-files00060.jp2'
88e58c5a5451bdf90caf02aa23410930
7cee16bcf2245e5892a0dd2526fb31995c2fce53
describe
'99116' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVS' 'sip-files00060.jpg'
fa591c16f55f91d3e7295ac5101fd960
079d5cf7513bcfd9aeba4bd4848266ef231b3cfa
'2011-08-17T07:44:39-04:00'
describe
'41162' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVT' 'sip-files00060.pro'
0d239365494dff027c23116d5c7fbece
92f16338f7f89c6e55fd920ad0b6015f53a03cb4
describe
'36362' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVU' 'sip-files00060.QC.jpg'
3452746259d647a976a5caf6c6a6b235
b11340b0f43b5d6aeb629d31f7dab3b9637c9cde
describe
'8099795' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVV' 'sip-files00060.tif'
9f72977e70ffd95d24788ff104d5db0a
d61ac1ce943d899e363cdccfcc90fa1e59f870b7
'2011-08-17T07:52:10-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVW' 'sip-files00060.txt'
d35277d3e0785e6321e0020b29db1634
5a0d6c283dab0d80ee7b2b1cfae4b96990377665
'2011-08-17T07:50:29-04:00'
describe
'11300' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVX' 'sip-files00060thm.jpg'
b8f22ed087192aee0a860a2665b6950e
6530e26fe510afa55c91ddbbb0a1f328106c6061
describe
'1069371' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVY' 'sip-files00061.jp2'
c3ddd61e37711fa34fdec5a4cfa70229
e78132c19b4b197f8d51c7e796edf5e00f115f69
'2011-08-17T07:51:27-04:00'
describe
'94964' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKVZ' 'sip-files00061.jpg'
0fe057fd812c26bd414bf5a68a366c48
8cc3c422dad7be93b063001a546bd1c4aad64d42
describe
'39806' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWA' 'sip-files00061.pro'
28505ae7a39342d6abe8b53417513b2f
aeab2bd78d49b2831028f2554ddadf99b1687092
describe
'34423' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWB' 'sip-files00061.QC.jpg'
b3d959d01bef4e15b283da86ba8bd95d
1fe32dd3252b0fcdc4de0e9437295c47c00fcfb9
'2011-08-17T07:49:56-04:00'
describe
'8564611' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWC' 'sip-files00061.tif'
799f73bd86bc81992e43f15468b3c874
1a73635091227ccf62927b7bb9519c1e9f16e738
'2011-08-17T07:43:23-04:00'
describe
'1656' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWD' 'sip-files00061.txt'
b06603d4bc6d6319798fce23e2a8fda6
503950dbf21522d724e0baa0926270329a584123
describe
'9360' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWE' 'sip-files00061thm.jpg'
2e11dcaec8bef1d6c95f50cbfc182ff6
675c9b2f5de809f19764ccb4434d03ac3bbcc9f3
'2011-08-17T07:42:59-04:00'
describe
'1046365' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWF' 'sip-files00062.jp2'
06d15ac67ac274c0f4d604bfdbb2406f
23ba35747cd30b29767a88d7d2493429a4a632ae
describe
'99091' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWG' 'sip-files00062.jpg'
3aa3c298a751160de53dff24c2a99df8
dc52be386ea012c56f0fbbd9b64c72ed1542bb92
'2011-08-17T07:53:39-04:00'
describe
'39699' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWH' 'sip-files00062.pro'
7549dbdc1f1e95960df2723770acba62
c6063fa492f91efa4bc705a8b2773417474974e2
describe
'36014' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWI' 'sip-files00062.QC.jpg'
7caee5c6b8f6499b84f8e7d982fb1e9d
ae7c2c480dc5c64053e85a62e070fb12df00f151
describe
'8380457' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWJ' 'sip-files00062.tif'
4a64c0eec38f1823f70323e104e0016f
a9abad32a9d2988b572361a7a358a81c375fa39f
'2011-08-17T07:54:07-04:00'
describe
'1730' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWK' 'sip-files00062.txt'
3152b656f75761d55b29a5e97c9f102a
35b05434b3dad459cbc5c51b63ece885fc14a960
'2011-08-17T07:50:56-04:00'
describe
'9956' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWL' 'sip-files00062thm.jpg'
94f4257e975568caa1808f3132d4976e
155aa717596d0c87db1dcd17c12fd6f9d4db33e0
'2011-08-17T07:50:02-04:00'
describe
'1069368' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWM' 'sip-files00063.jp2'
5c1b414a9c54919214c37e13b95f8183
660ad08d9a2974f510e9b4d4eb398c0fba1803c4
'2011-08-17T07:48:37-04:00'
describe
'103930' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWN' 'sip-files00063.jpg'
df573e0373acda087b27b4e9e4923d8a
b2a868e7757ba8ac32b909f04611a27c5453c96d
describe
'43100' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWO' 'sip-files00063.pro'
dad42951085f4af1740ff24d10b9551e
e379b5103d5a2f0bc5507c5889279f81590af530
'2011-08-17T07:51:59-04:00'
describe
'37846' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWP' 'sip-files00063.QC.jpg'
8690f8123221f402b37f4f6b85b270ad
9bc87ab293f5d19e1d039d56cbafb9639ed7751d
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWQ' 'sip-files00063.tif'
76a54641724d0617086c1b0b70e82fbf
52b3ce2b22f4bbda0738cecfd6398819876864ca
'2011-08-17T07:45:23-04:00'
describe
'1780' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWR' 'sip-files00063.txt'
575e08803bb8c7a5ca2bff2436526a2d
e81c58a0a76547a843f592d3b21a9d9d68067067
'2011-08-17T07:48:13-04:00'
describe
'10150' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWS' 'sip-files00063thm.jpg'
93b41b2157a32f2d3adc54220e5ffd1b
f827ff2222c40fe8c9a8bda1d43447d3cb89fab3
'2011-08-17T07:43:04-04:00'
describe
'1046364' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWT' 'sip-files00064.jp2'
573d34900c4779c4780e44b165a98a65
f9cd1c9a6887a741a5d2fe33f347f5430b3514f0
'2011-08-17T07:49:03-04:00'
describe
'100912' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWU' 'sip-files00064.jpg'
c8a404758c80c2fa4b5c8afc0821f8ef
f6e91871497392dacd6d26c51b238d5031464a80
describe
'40481' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWV' 'sip-files00064.pro'
1be2fc946839ff381b889ac10b521db6
5c544ccdc2f83df3b723d03c1a497ea9c6ae68ad
'2011-08-17T07:45:42-04:00'
describe
'37368' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWW' 'sip-files00064.QC.jpg'
0d6a8d1adc9117fc1c1d743e150198e6
2f2a0e8423e2d5b49de59f88695f3677dcd08316
'2011-08-17T07:50:08-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWX' 'sip-files00064.tif'
7f98bd414ac9c219389c9555bf62a887
89b6fdba11234287513fde442309f0c0e24ac7f3
'2011-08-17T07:44:32-04:00'
describe
'1700' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWY' 'sip-files00064.txt'
afe8424ea43f5c0449cd7912f7a29ed9
434bf1e671b7ab5e12377ab6eb2e492e1ad3429a
'2011-08-17T07:51:13-04:00'
describe
'10294' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKWZ' 'sip-files00064thm.jpg'
a55459dbae9914a8b4dac24d32849e45
94fecf58b07ba34c8eff2ccb5014a70001e3a265
describe
'1069363' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXA' 'sip-files00065.jp2'
25d851f92256bc2d154e897a21842f60
01518643548e6ea43b9c35ac4559a81db3ca0169
'2011-08-17T07:48:07-04:00'
describe
'96733' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXB' 'sip-files00065.jpg'
4efcb11d3c7a27e196fb8fd46a1bab33
ca025463fc678361da2d5c478c30d41f370175e8
describe
'40098' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXC' 'sip-files00065.pro'
7f628727564b9ba1da11d7c42d33b4eb
c5142c9252734cc9e633667377b0976f6b59dc0b
'2011-08-17T07:52:49-04:00'
describe
'35935' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXD' 'sip-files00065.QC.jpg'
cf043750582509f2b7be4a416aa284eb
96eb5d6b4742d3cfc553b756c960eb9637d7ba4e
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXE' 'sip-files00065.tif'
5afa25c3dc69bb89bc9cfa0362a9bd16
7d25b27f08d15b42932cae1736b73d9ee0644e4f
'2011-08-17T07:50:17-04:00'
describe
'1663' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXF' 'sip-files00065.txt'
47cc0caac01028f1e6c437fab21f7021
0f5298ef27d462633170d543577291457ac01238
'2011-08-17T07:46:44-04:00'
describe
'9744' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXG' 'sip-files00065thm.jpg'
273d5f957a0a4f4bb6f90bc100129360
10a26847324064610c35ff3310124b7c32157fcb
'2011-08-17T07:51:58-04:00'
describe
'1046367' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXH' 'sip-files00066.jp2'
bca39bcd56a79904a652072207b13b68
9e44432922a02d92fb3e728d1436e8012d03ca1d
describe
'101782' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXI' 'sip-files00066.jpg'
c421941a7f779f88b53d0556164be1d3
a59dc93abc1b1a199fc7db9d4c7f4dc82d2a6691
'2011-08-17T07:45:25-04:00'
describe
'40833' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXJ' 'sip-files00066.pro'
5b786f0e232d6a919ee86731b94d68b3
df32e54634ef2b9ed60322751b68e483df1e9e17
'2011-08-17T07:45:13-04:00'
describe
'37899' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXK' 'sip-files00066.QC.jpg'
4b677875ac0fb18848927bc348c3f6a3
543fa2983ed9265e8b7f5f54eb910e3cf6f5e33f
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXL' 'sip-files00066.tif'
814f0fd459244142df0a95baeac5a59f
b3033a7e3f0d011fbefd3bf132c1fe41591df1e0
'2011-08-17T07:52:46-04:00'
describe
'1706' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXM' 'sip-files00066.txt'
0fc7b21f51ab3e9fd61cd2bce06668c2
a510ff5190ec88cbef7b613155c1914f23e32a93
describe
'10539' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXN' 'sip-files00066thm.jpg'
554382aa2b6425b5ceab4127c76ea3eb
c6f4ad1378666a9c6e6f74ad6b34991efee6f446
'2011-08-17T07:50:01-04:00'
describe
'1069366' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXO' 'sip-files00067.jp2'
df8a463963719faaa6d404f627c81c5c
fa254944115f3ad0e8a0577a80cd5b9cc9d9d966
'2011-08-17T07:43:28-04:00'
describe
'104053' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXP' 'sip-files00067.jpg'
7b994ea457a5413b54ac35248af68c98
9d9d6d9e94a7e4fa0b870db7d411ce589ef54d84
describe
'41955' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXQ' 'sip-files00067.pro'
ae753d0a1b4d96bde420721da20c25bc
4d3253b0025e62c5df75eb0844dd9e5c25403614
'2011-08-17T07:53:00-04:00'
describe
'38197' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXR' 'sip-files00067.QC.jpg'
bda2552f87d56a6ea78cb1639db303dc
fb208091102ff6344e220e205bed01743f1e892a
'2011-08-17T07:52:54-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXS' 'sip-files00067.tif'
3b78bbaf27b006947d953bf0a84f9914
f5c9e8d5cae83a6288b3b7075d30d7711e5af2f1
describe
'1726' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXT' 'sip-files00067.txt'
9fa842a4330f5f7ceab58c92d8abed0d
9d6a76829fbbf4d985466ae3343edde42daa51a6
describe
'10445' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXU' 'sip-files00067thm.jpg'
3580456183892105cd784f85d4c486ee
2b062a1fda642ff1479928d86df47e509e88cecf
'2011-08-17T07:47:48-04:00'
describe
'1046312' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXV' 'sip-files00068.jp2'
08b910214c8259b335f3dfefa721544e
3d7b876e5e21eb6252fdb639301552b572adb47a
'2011-08-17T07:53:54-04:00'
describe
'97568' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXW' 'sip-files00068.jpg'
cf286b0884ae2b966cf2d73d64f0a8a3
944c50453d1b3803285e38c7432e34e8ddf4d4fd
describe
'39535' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXX' 'sip-files00068.pro'
6a90f4707d587fed3397a6509ba9f42b
b150c2de3601101520b2d049e57679b3cf827957
'2011-08-17T07:51:16-04:00'
describe
'35841' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXY' 'sip-files00068.QC.jpg'
8e248a37fdaf4f5765dba63a7064d22c
8507ba6ec7352d6b1640a9bfd7b6908c93b6f339
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKXZ' 'sip-files00068.tif'
134c95a02035d58e388052f99e290411
dbf1615439a1d7f72d7c3ecb9eb467580b53c57b
'2011-08-17T07:53:29-04:00'
describe
'1675' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYA' 'sip-files00068.txt'
d1436f1a7385212aaa6bac2eb5588707
d22dcf0dd3cb430293adf263914aa7e6443dd0a6
describe
'10299' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYB' 'sip-files00068thm.jpg'
f6c94cee222a593bee7fef45e9f32218
914a1cc89b8076a5aef78f6a4e081f3f8ac8f14c
'2011-08-17T07:43:40-04:00'
describe
'1069377' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYC' 'sip-files00069.jp2'
d8f3af3fd7b3f218e268253d9894b781
fdd053004f42b2f04d0e9fdbcb35cba78a01348a
'2011-08-17T07:54:08-04:00'
describe
'100373' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYD' 'sip-files00069.jpg'
fff527829955a0ccd143703713a95194
571909109e48bee4d654d4861d38be43a4decc94
describe
'41016' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYE' 'sip-files00069.pro'
1a3b3b3bbf568825c65b436e4c02ac0e
7cab6321a401e4372fc79dd917ccddeb244ea68c
'2011-08-17T07:53:23-04:00'
describe
'36786' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYF' 'sip-files00069.QC.jpg'
ed5a242c3bdc6026d78e4e49bbd3c1b9
210d7de5c9569d399bebf992f4c49d7668f80e52
'2011-08-17T07:46:02-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYG' 'sip-files00069.tif'
bed0b87e329b3c55585989875c2b994b
f733337f903570279254ac0defdf2a8687739ad4
'2011-08-17T07:51:51-04:00'
describe
'1707' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYH' 'sip-files00069.txt'
1698948a90253eb304f5cff986b84640
7b3571515d4692e78fccdcc58a2a37ca9aff4c01
'2011-08-17T07:52:33-04:00'
describe
'10329' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYI' 'sip-files00069thm.jpg'
52c7b8ff913122c169db00f3114cb9c7
01fce980b8463a2af49f3989940887918a90dfec
'2011-08-17T07:44:31-04:00'
describe
'1025871' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYJ' 'sip-files00070.jp2'
3ac0a0c8b6d5dd1e92f359119676f710
b143622e46feb1c42828cfb15f9cbe042d9053b5
describe
'55620' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYK' 'sip-files00070.jpg'
b919afdaea4bb5b6ebf3e2f3e12f8b84
32cf3b5106f921e0a59e04954d156770b73b8e56
describe
'19504' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYL' 'sip-files00070.pro'
9dffae82e99aef7b6201868e1ae632ae
daa44e219b4c8f088384164d8e4ee01338ab0d47
describe
'19903' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYM' 'sip-files00070.QC.jpg'
731374af89fc8f2cd87e60ce788336d8
7f9369052c833492fff9b6019c2a0fc620476450
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYN' 'sip-files00070.tif'
9e9d82464ac9ee22ae4434cb3eaafe18
df2874e34f8e6e30e97c1832743c0460333d0869
'2011-08-17T07:50:21-04:00'
describe
'819' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYO' 'sip-files00070.txt'
786cc2cf3b8e2b4a26b3db278fc4a7de
18b02a5974a9e2ec8d1d0f363c86ea0621080ad0
describe
WARNING CODE 'Daitss::Anomaly' Invalid character
'5681' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYP' 'sip-files00070thm.jpg'
a5ae7675acc256c67762fcdd6a72dfd1
f7099436448c69a31f620d497d89792250175079
describe
'1069341' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYQ' 'sip-files00071.jp2'
1e6cfc89739e97014777daa6edec0e32
2f082fca86dc8ac30100133ba43d2f7d7e5e5b2e
'2011-08-17T07:52:52-04:00'
describe
'82800' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYR' 'sip-files00071.jpg'
eb005da22bc8f030a8994629c8386fd7
adb559c08e87b11d831ca44ba0463a0cbc7631f5
'2011-08-17T07:52:14-04:00'
describe
'32935' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYS' 'sip-files00071.pro'
1e385b15be3698c93a58da901fa57029
e500c3c970841d1de80f764db21db6e9d5860892
'2011-08-17T07:48:39-04:00'
describe
'30393' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYT' 'sip-files00071.QC.jpg'
fadc9edfb02d422afd84e1be5895fe40
b8d8120588aecfaec3ca9c701b36ab339fabee43
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYU' 'sip-files00071.tif'
21d8161e1ba3fbc800f9a6e2d0082d17
cbd725739eaa7df2d2eb022ebd02de10bfd9a9cf
describe
'1376' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYV' 'sip-files00071.txt'
053a2c5d98793a5873cb66f8634031bc
5f3233d226dd82cdc2108197bcde9dfaacbc5630
'2011-08-17T07:44:52-04:00'
describe
'8210' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYW' 'sip-files00071thm.jpg'
181e9eaf9bcf0e1fe459bb670e43f0c1
9101fef9004989ca6086f2053d55d867cd379c30
'2011-08-17T07:45:52-04:00'
describe
'1046368' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYX' 'sip-files00072.jp2'
07108aac05667848e6141aa0d62872f7
6e3692b26759e72f95c3dd28926186d86db0e4ae
describe
'108071' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYY' 'sip-files00072.jpg'
07f8d83ef7f5e574252243a10ea6f6ec
6b4eb02bbdae20c9ba1918ecb3996b3125895faa
describe
'43905' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKYZ' 'sip-files00072.pro'
2b0e1466f4f9140900c8a2a3276d3692
b6e3c137506e4b2844315fe3ee4d0eb1698d4c0f
'2011-08-17T07:51:53-04:00'
describe
'39820' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZA' 'sip-files00072.QC.jpg'
0c0a8f619e8b3dde05d0bc5cf924de5d
fafec889cf0805e02d63305af8c538dcbe5ce73e
'2011-08-17T07:45:34-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZB' 'sip-files00072.tif'
6b8b0bf7e8918f64d699029dcc9e0436
c4157b9b120df69bef0823dc20e2179d95a1750d
'2011-08-17T07:47:01-04:00'
describe
'1897' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZC' 'sip-files00072.txt'
4ec8196f4dea4b650881c82d05f720ff
0b64ad2e5bc30d34a576e1d316b0601951e2e678
'2011-08-17T07:46:08-04:00'
describe
'10748' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZD' 'sip-files00072thm.jpg'
a4e3246823edafdd10c275620207e8d7
dce9749a286f18a2d0837c5de8f388bd3ff9019e
'2011-08-17T07:46:55-04:00'
describe
'1069375' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZE' 'sip-files00073.jp2'
102db9fca139778f761cb851e353a7b4
c7c539f10f740e55e47430cf75f0758394d76b58
describe
'98434' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZF' 'sip-files00073.jpg'
f82f2b25c2975d2243649f891976043f
ee5a2227b2f7cebd7167fcc0d912c769c5fd666d
describe
'41420' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZG' 'sip-files00073.pro'
936da96d51bb5515187d01be0b7212c1
d39da589dcd877724ee2e97a2bc200ec78d708ac
describe
'36196' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZH' 'sip-files00073.QC.jpg'
dc3e378bc54fd3fd664a8bbc5f050157
dfe2a7a93789b248de4fa17d8c514b4453acbbac
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZI' 'sip-files00073.tif'
2588dbd5937359855ce2d822290b602f
9eed36328c50c630c6d43151a2d31c6841e3f0d2
'2011-08-17T07:49:40-04:00'
describe
'1716' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZJ' 'sip-files00073.txt'
bd77ae06971e9e84148266e1fc7e6dc6
8d459764fee7922e2cd194bc00b054b512f72dcb
'2011-08-17T07:43:46-04:00'
describe
'10057' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZK' 'sip-files00073thm.jpg'
7a8d71630178273f36f11ab3988f95b4
4320b1cc473b4af7fecaf675d5ce91a763b96ad7
describe
'1046366' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZL' 'sip-files00074.jp2'
614cbce715d7b40282f35e3945f1c9c7
7717f40523cdf7ecb1d19b9728476030293db3f4
'2011-08-17T07:48:24-04:00'
describe
'103196' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZM' 'sip-files00074.jpg'
0e34ee681cf0ae4a65cc596734e06282
d6ad8477a852ce6dcaaa80a20b8997771e352907
'2011-08-17T07:48:33-04:00'
describe
'42970' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZN' 'sip-files00074.pro'
15a615421ddb3d8fb71b128440a6b01a
06edc3f2d6a70377c6b301ad102ff459fd56f57e
'2011-08-17T07:44:27-04:00'
describe
'38009' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZO' 'sip-files00074.QC.jpg'
0204137515fa00f174f8ce01fee54028
132aaf85af16ffcc435f0a3a9ffe7ae89c267caf
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZP' 'sip-files00074.tif'
d33c53d4fcbe66eb131e24d31a2b7ec4
a5aedd7b69dcf4292074d801a133ead5645e3fca
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZQ' 'sip-files00074.txt'
22fc16e1a57bc6c020b40ae95a35eacf
dd4620aa6a89c37e510d76c52824ed4060fc2f53
describe
'10207' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZR' 'sip-files00074thm.jpg'
a0fc3dde5109ff5abd43cac712d7d6f5
8c1c846b7efd4a22194e09b323f07a53597c9acc
describe
'1069351' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZS' 'sip-files00075.jp2'
762196ca0a9c38288fba9193e3e23bd2
a5f59c528dff4bbdb55f22021aa7e80a52b48feb
describe
'104226' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZT' 'sip-files00075.jpg'
eb998f7d27366e7422e0cb8227283d5d
394742718e6596ca38cfbbaf2e5f5c9ce1a678f9
'2011-08-17T07:53:08-04:00'
describe
'43921' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZU' 'sip-files00075.pro'
58cad3efda7d4c54066777d40bc1fdef
303dd695d38634de640279986838051b99000e24
'2011-08-17T07:51:47-04:00'
describe
'38629' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZV' 'sip-files00075.QC.jpg'
cbadc98d21441706d003e34c39ae9b61
975ff1533cb02ae63eeb1b4f814dbd0113b75351
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZW' 'sip-files00075.tif'
82b54ea91808ded9c63514d7d21cfcfe
c7d9213a359652b0156c2943be3a75aa15a57ee6
describe
'1801' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZX' 'sip-files00075.txt'
718f62a7d5adc5034450c3d841fab316
60d0895c640a2ae994eca70abe25386569f998ad
describe
'10305' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZY' 'sip-files00075thm.jpg'
a2b245be2c2147bec4df585e714a2675
e603d114dfe2e0bd24724e4d7290b0179c53f016
describe
'1046369' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAKZZ' 'sip-files00076.jp2'
af624c7a51b941614d398639b0bc0ed6
8b1a02fbd96fee0dcab403ea5b11a2e22594e7e4
'2011-08-17T07:47:02-04:00'
describe
'98897' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAA' 'sip-files00076.jpg'
b6ce539be1f3b89eddbf06f6b4d406b8
1cfbf47be7d2779cba11dce7e2d3c878fde317a2
describe
'40262' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAB' 'sip-files00076.pro'
40fce27f7688c65efac7fb10c1f79408
429c854b1afddec80571e054afd1386b5952da46
'2011-08-17T07:52:44-04:00'
describe
'36387' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAC' 'sip-files00076.QC.jpg'
51fe781d349c60dda1e6188cfba4347e
084852c17c10874ef0baeeab9a8ee19ccb094673
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAD' 'sip-files00076.tif'
6ad3148c287177761911da636d74e272
0935d50a47d30676225a6cd18b561bccdeffe1c7
'2011-08-17T07:45:33-04:00'
describe
'1666' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAE' 'sip-files00076.txt'
c093cc332786c65a777895013316f3fa
9f120fb0e311226d7b850444c04b4eb1273a8bf2
'2011-08-17T07:51:05-04:00'
describe
'9942' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAF' 'sip-files00076thm.jpg'
7e91732779e48a5c76ffcbb82bf29561
5a360ee6fa37d5d9648cf427136f771006779311
'2011-08-17T07:45:16-04:00'
describe
'1069374' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAG' 'sip-files00077.jp2'
f322499a40b558de54982a9c13028458
7c147e0c3de7be3e12d87f1f928aead4d9d13473
describe
'103846' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAH' 'sip-files00077.jpg'
06d1332db5e1c267fe5cd7d9f4b592ad
4fd09731e2311d22f3b1b218464b28a34e731e67
'2011-08-17T07:49:33-04:00'
describe
'42914' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAI' 'sip-files00077.pro'
8770554330abdb8852ab9a94e0f446c8
6928b88d0dc36cd2869228316aedf04a68cf199b
'2011-08-17T07:44:07-04:00'
describe
'37502' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAJ' 'sip-files00077.QC.jpg'
1bd250bfeb4e64b3cae4e4f3870e51b0
85ac83d1072f1060abb9235fa24d6b491596048a
'2011-08-17T07:48:03-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAK' 'sip-files00077.tif'
6574b2349388f103d39b0ae2cda3ab2a
0ba2878226f060b48251199b582055708bc1cf7b
describe
'1758' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAL' 'sip-files00077.txt'
4b0971d13e299495058bfe156022b57f
9c6afa1cb5989e0a1bb3799434a0c692b87dd2af
'2011-08-17T07:43:41-04:00'
describe
'10209' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAM' 'sip-files00077thm.jpg'
1e7806f5b7071628489bb8083a7be7b6
41ce28a1a4146a8d6e07885e37564ef9ce9bd200
describe
'1046344' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAN' 'sip-files00078.jp2'
23588e6456687e428d483eb0a6dcc6be
3a37e4957c629e9de0af4a8d45bd1a631e817516
describe
'107785' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAO' 'sip-files00078.jpg'
ce5e1d4d3b7720bb619b333dafa08468
02022c5b8bf7387117a66dae1ec43b53d7ca8332
describe
'43948' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAP' 'sip-files00078.pro'
ebbdda3159c68425896a93aabeb6d542
b75a251e27624d7c3d8ccdd070cc216d88ca9327
'2011-08-17T07:48:10-04:00'
describe
'39246' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAQ' 'sip-files00078.QC.jpg'
080916129fd036e530602d80b65edccd
3cc13c9d394ae1991af73461af5b849130374f4c
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAR' 'sip-files00078.tif'
5c340367b275264f6381eb2f2c7cb61b
cd0a25494f6058e547108c58624c793cc4e0b9e1
describe
'1806' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAS' 'sip-files00078.txt'
f6b95882637eb7fbdaa93fe686eb6b08
df39cb11006876bb27e6b9b54a9359084551fc88
'2011-08-17T07:45:07-04:00'
describe
'10577' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAT' 'sip-files00078thm.jpg'
69e37908c50945819b141dd3bc4c8b63
7b82cbe6d40d70b432b1ce0cc5cd29ceca175c87
'2011-08-17T07:47:16-04:00'
describe
'1069354' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAU' 'sip-files00079.jp2'
05d5a2a3d1558a7c2e861b45d4c38436
6d546c56a5274ff998a34556f01438748112cf3c
'2011-08-17T07:50:24-04:00'
describe
'103189' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAV' 'sip-files00079.jpg'
ee5ad612cff0db74bcb1a7c7c7cbf6a4
c60d3c11eab561d7a84d59355ad9499d42853c86
describe
'44078' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAW' 'sip-files00079.pro'
82c8daab203675cd5756190fb93cbe36
00144382e988e48cefda51f90a55627d2d698284
'2011-08-17T07:52:19-04:00'
describe
'37660' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAX' 'sip-files00079.QC.jpg'
3ab9d412cfc1b836472f1f5e7c951541
fc85b7cdad187365d93cdbecb4b80215f21b362e
'2011-08-17T07:44:45-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAY' 'sip-files00079.tif'
780a196b77b46799afe0d204a23142e3
da10b428f4b40d3a408693b5782d5ffe9651eaf2
'2011-08-17T07:48:40-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALAZ' 'sip-files00079.txt'
29ccce0698de2f8ad46bb3805d38a8ad
341a1c150b798afb0a77967f2ca9da7cdffaf755
'2011-08-17T07:51:28-04:00'
describe
'10026' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBA' 'sip-files00079thm.jpg'
6f6a7623866cc2c3b9bd7c5a946c2e34
ecb86e832fe69aaf7782b1d28a7219ab15eb87f3
describe
'1046142' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBB' 'sip-files00080.jp2'
8e49a8b0f15c331a1dba17d747789be1
b01dcf90dd705d6472fb909908925ae899a7f951
'2011-08-17T07:53:48-04:00'
describe
'90271' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBC' 'sip-files00080.jpg'
024644a49901677c8c6e3c0227212898
25ff5aa205559d95e222eda53ca80e505c1d8eab
'2011-08-17T07:48:08-04:00'
describe
'36923' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBD' 'sip-files00080.pro'
1a7898eba0d99167681e6a0b572c339d
5f104e6250dfcca4b2d91a2bf17bd079aabf999e
'2011-08-17T07:49:46-04:00'
describe
'33626' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBE' 'sip-files00080.QC.jpg'
5dc19c7e94dae33134827b0e490386dc
9791c82668cd83d68ffe82b4f4d362e9982df512
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBF' 'sip-files00080.tif'
ebc962d473f5f951c9110a65700ce031
385530d2b9e5fe545123bd3c6b339f8efb02b3ba
'2011-08-17T07:51:18-04:00'
describe
'1580' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBG' 'sip-files00080.txt'
6d91902eaf38554c9ede51e7a2514844
bb3449ab72da2d83af04d4ca336c2c1a1e7979bb
'2011-08-17T07:48:02-04:00'
describe
'9724' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBH' 'sip-files00080thm.jpg'
525d4daf7808047b19d48d8d407a0449
839a6466eab85086a49118fe169a0d82345349fd
'2011-08-17T07:50:04-04:00'
describe
'1069340' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBI' 'sip-files00081.jp2'
c53bd078d2c02cd689ee9140a9d7b8fa
338263ab078459bb2de2faaedbedceeb34667f03
'2011-08-17T07:45:43-04:00'
describe
'100100' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBJ' 'sip-files00081.jpg'
4d2cecfd891d4e67f5c92b660f7058e1
199c3d509fdb16672afef9d1217f8feedf65a6ff
'2011-08-17T07:44:48-04:00'
describe
'41048' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBK' 'sip-files00081.pro'
e41aa043f24ecb6a9bb842060b78c973
3bac4f33f1f0fc4d24cc38361ce9158c0a922525
describe
'37422' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBL' 'sip-files00081.QC.jpg'
5e03c235c8dea52481b115c2674798f8
3f34cb548e2b8a8393d43510ab7dddcee1d28afa
'2011-08-17T07:53:04-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBM' 'sip-files00081.tif'
85e51f25b66c7c07ad9a19225182413f
87e0c35d1f29a93ad30f053ab69a867ef69dea2c
describe
'1691' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBN' 'sip-files00081.txt'
7bc18915af5ed548557f8d87d1e57aea
f9342a123ebf3e227faf49881e76a2bc42b9deb9
'2011-08-17T07:44:05-04:00'
describe
'10098' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBO' 'sip-files00081thm.jpg'
a5b3b7ec6b949c9736e6278e9ae0f027
5aebf1bbc4e935cba65429e7c94f494fba15061f
describe
'1046299' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBP' 'sip-files00082.jp2'
51ef81332728a8593cecbad25fb5ad84
1e5860eeb9672df27164b8bf5de6c27faf194a08
describe
'104554' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBQ' 'sip-files00082.jpg'
d609ddd4bbf9470dc087e4761f09476a
e3bf68d9f81136a397df346a1f0db19d2f0433a5
describe
'42450' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBR' 'sip-files00082.pro'
b4675da77ddab875f5e9822c2d0c8be4
7b765a2d923eece6b71232e1125589dda570f1ab
'2011-08-17T07:45:41-04:00'
describe
'38801' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBS' 'sip-files00082.QC.jpg'
fd9628e66685747a26d390a74736dd31
c24d768fcea647e376db5c6d93a1505fff810c32
'2011-08-17T07:43:01-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBT' 'sip-files00082.tif'
2d75a5c9f852cd993acc82be3bddfc38
a142a07c0936c8df6e0e41bc67a402fffcb2bceb
describe
'1753' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBU' 'sip-files00082.txt'
7e8cdf230ee99acd2c9135dc5acd80ea
f684af76797cecda3e8116061632406895fccbbe
describe
'10649' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBV' 'sip-files00082thm.jpg'
81eb4478dae6c91046ea8976dc9dd8f8
3b020aa9d4b397145d4e52353e019e8069e15fb5
describe
'1069254' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBW' 'sip-files00083.jp2'
c1842bbfb163d0ed2ad7aad67c1a16c6
0cfbe19275c3a9b808849a01cbd24f7a5086a80e
'2011-08-17T07:43:13-04:00'
describe
'104742' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBX' 'sip-files00083.jpg'
99735b0d495b7316cf37c8ebbf606219
a0e85a313c264969f91a433620f907acec3bc0dd
describe
'43573' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBY' 'sip-files00083.pro'
0b0baf06ae08f1f2e3a2dce74d2c0bc9
bc649d2c1596ee0c9e8e6a3beb27a3f70e85f55e
describe
'38571' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALBZ' 'sip-files00083.QC.jpg'
24c2f0cac818a5f7f43de82637ad3b18
26775061cfd69c343aa57e70a1984740be6b0cee
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCA' 'sip-files00083.tif'
0fb271eb22a0c273e63973aec0d555c9
c342c2634001c635d158c678d18eb4a31935dbc4
'2011-08-17T07:47:26-04:00'
describe
'1792' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCB' 'sip-files00083.txt'
9917b150169fe5b00dc4a2fa65b033fa
bdf730e9742b058852ffcfa325b9bf8d3f14ae19
'2011-08-17T07:47:17-04:00'
describe
'10419' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCC' 'sip-files00083thm.jpg'
e6e64023837b37f8a3fbc8076066494f
7ef38be1baec2edf5aad4489f8e202c9a397fca9
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCD' 'sip-files00084.jp2'
f8cb3ddc7c2c1ded42e9d9bdba08a8a8
03f52d608056a08c55f43286669ad9ec08a67109
'2011-08-17T07:46:11-04:00'
describe
'88256' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCE' 'sip-files00084.jpg'
aede6f3f16f5f4a5da8bfda077f0366a
b0cf8b88a66b440f0cc2df0eb9231365963bc451
'2011-08-17T07:44:19-04:00'
describe
'35436' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCF' 'sip-files00084.pro'
5d11efe798ee8a28fd89a47e6ecbcb45
55a40db3efc59ddb18be4e9d6b9b024c7c784ad5
'2011-08-17T07:51:15-04:00'
describe
'32790' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCG' 'sip-files00084.QC.jpg'
f615de3f4d7ab1f9739c17f3d607bbd1
2899a59f496a627bc1e7978c4d33839e3ea438a7
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCH' 'sip-files00084.tif'
894d38367396cf701228ab5842b1c14e
b8246f614f684ec15abf6fded3a3a3c8d7a6e103
describe
'1504' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCI' 'sip-files00084.txt'
9311562fec0f519e81f0d546b2dbc86d
d92a2211d885ba8d035916928c95290d61f57fc8
describe
'9324' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCJ' 'sip-files00084thm.jpg'
f8401ed0354e48ca93616cfb28868df5
440a7867bd49c6e7ca04bed6ba4ad604587cfa9d
describe
'1069355' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCK' 'sip-files00085.jp2'
ec7e6245759eb6cc9a52dffb90950f11
f442ad20c331ca113f963bb2462e17050b19843a
'2011-08-17T07:48:06-04:00'
describe
'97283' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCL' 'sip-files00085.jpg'
dd1dfc0dc713440b228101d6bda3c5c3
17626d855b5db1f53ba048a52090d08690db9616
'2011-08-17T07:45:18-04:00'
describe
'39692' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCM' 'sip-files00085.pro'
a45215631db5532fbacc1105381bd552
5b09fd5c377c7e5b7c2bd6d3c102a0e24adf8c9b
describe
'36060' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCN' 'sip-files00085.QC.jpg'
d5598bdf851d83e6c86de5cbcecabddd
ce6df7f6625deac003f09167197b2afde9bf9059
'2011-08-17T07:49:55-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCO' 'sip-files00085.tif'
50c8eccf080b5d356f16b981ef000b3a
112afde800d5232f9f689b9d13a00146aae4068b
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCP' 'sip-files00085.txt'
d4353ffb5d8250fa42c38553289fcc2a
5cc913ca40a22bac42262eeabbe8d912b7ec8e2d
describe
'9826' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCQ' 'sip-files00085thm.jpg'
874c0eecb76bf4e4d6f01d53e5e5acbb
0b5d47046b84e1f1f7dceb55e82cb1c11b8812be
describe
'1046289' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCR' 'sip-files00086.jp2'
de19fa8e63daa2156777f31f4c1d5c96
6d3acf4e549ea270dc57397110496a820bed5ed3
describe
'100037' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCS' 'sip-files00086.jpg'
7f113a7f211874bb5e0eab3f80aa99a1
e6216286c681dfc8124a9c8c8fdc6690358b218e
'2011-08-17T07:43:50-04:00'
describe
'40269' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCT' 'sip-files00086.pro'
ff3a5a466251ea9e06d024101db57930
120eb7286fa1bb051431800724393b4f6d486c50
'2011-08-17T07:48:28-04:00'
describe
'36634' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCU' 'sip-files00086.QC.jpg'
a9269e42645373c568c326df788c2da9
a555a6efab51587e022c4e6cab3e82054f92fd69
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCV' 'sip-files00086.tif'
9449d390be1603c771d6bd29455cdba0
7b041dc2693799156b9629f677bff28623e4a8f9
'2011-08-17T07:51:20-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCW' 'sip-files00086.txt'
de4a63541c3383d63d1ba4c1c02eeacf
9ac9de99c5f4a6a39b7ec9f1a57cc7cf1098486c
'2011-08-17T07:49:27-04:00'
describe
'10300' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCX' 'sip-files00086thm.jpg'
f9882ce297100fd020e6b9dc0b8d26fa
c2e8ce595fe32205e555d62dc63f44bd4c26d1a7
'2011-08-17T07:44:08-04:00'
describe
'1069356' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCY' 'sip-files00087.jp2'
d2dd6c99a83e502c75bbfecda73299c1
4f122a4c78dcb4846e4184ca26bf69d2ebdf280f
describe
'98447' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALCZ' 'sip-files00087.jpg'
e2a1f33e30543d1fee59b8b773dba0f6
29a4bc76179501ac177c3607cd84aa304d352382
'2011-08-17T07:53:33-04:00'
describe
'40410' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDA' 'sip-files00087.pro'
c8bccbcfecfc334b6681c96b7dca251c
68ba663d55f6df3f70857550c4b3796e51108f92
describe
'35831' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDB' 'sip-files00087.QC.jpg'
6716fa03e583e564efeeb7698fbd8f87
401ca40d6887330b7d624f8a0c25a28e88d0f770
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDC' 'sip-files00087.tif'
88d506b938a4374cb4923aebf1b84d26
746bf156eab3b5e52b8e467939fbc6bea71d48e1
describe
'1668' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDD' 'sip-files00087.txt'
133e95184958659d6def2f9acbd08dd7
2e3d6f71acb586c1be2b2765e48777f7508864c4
describe
'9794' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDE' 'sip-files00087thm.jpg'
a3ddebf2b8d8755fbbc59696865dab9a
916d42dc7e2ac6d6bf8529c27d47fe87e84b82f0
describe
'1046356' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDF' 'sip-files00088.jp2'
52eb08c1face473d91c58350620d779d
90285ff368d4e0f5494331f420fecedb09bd7327
'2011-08-17T07:52:00-04:00'
describe
'92581' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDG' 'sip-files00088.jpg'
0ec907739bf5c7c39d6047de16e20f9d
d6d8bc9a7ccc8bdd90c931558b5a07f915983040
describe
'38012' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDH' 'sip-files00088.pro'
0c8c64887ad43cfbcf00a3f48d7d8e83
973eb46be7d3a68caf4390b820ef7d86bacb8d08
describe
'33727' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDI' 'sip-files00088.QC.jpg'
d68d35530e42aa5fd2f81baf241af1ce
554e3064c90a814cb79f61414f59920793fd3d33
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDJ' 'sip-files00088.tif'
c247943e388c0c6b883800fa78140484
4dca7a3784292ab3f4e29d307cbffee17f3d0224
'2011-08-17T07:53:22-04:00'
describe
'1604' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDK' 'sip-files00088.txt'
8d49aa5c9127416b833c968b4f3e531f
cd0684a80123cd276e504420f7714a68ad05c39e
describe
'9427' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDL' 'sip-files00088thm.jpg'
8294ede1aaa70f492c6d852ce41433cb
2b105b18f69a66baf3548114c0869daa350cc2a1
'2011-08-17T07:48:30-04:00'
describe
'1069329' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDM' 'sip-files00089.jp2'
80e95628de5cdd8da37594bf5e1794e3
c2d061478c769ba709827a3f4ddf6bbbb5302a4b
'2011-08-17T07:43:59-04:00'
describe
'118967' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDN' 'sip-filesBack.jpg'
595b86e65ff4a19e497dc400c8cb08c0
2d85a65dfd88e33e0a33d5ded262f68fdafeef26
describe
'93011' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDO' 'sip-files00089.jpg'
5e4c6f4d7e2af85beac74f3b232ae5fa
a0fbdbe40e6740e650567c6d34f63354b0cb07ae
describe
'37953' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDP' 'sip-files00089.pro'
1204648b51ed44b10a499cf1f18da3bd
7e7bf2d33743931f27829a10f08f0392abd15a23
describe
'34121' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDQ' 'sip-files00089.QC.jpg'
fb8a5ba1e22df2b9922c0366d83465e7
a218fd1fda7cec04ccb36a14b2fc29d2422fe294
'2011-08-17T07:53:45-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDR' 'sip-files00089.tif'
217f6e5eec1581115e712e69ff7568ba
21445b7f7ebe540e93092ce009f3dae154717755
describe
'1599' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDS' 'sip-files00089.txt'
2dca50716e79ae4950b31b145b964583
dcb269d40f0dc81b3109c04c5e1d2399b6a85da6
describe
'9334' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDT' 'sip-files00089thm.jpg'
814d86aaedbb1b216d42861e6e894f5d
4e9b70e070406fc48be34e1d3ec3b338467f283a
'2011-08-17T07:49:20-04:00'
describe
'1046370' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDU' 'sip-files00090.jp2'
b82074de4920d0072be10ab084eb67c3
735e9385809320cfdc2bd47b1b29d3f2387297a2
describe
'95841' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDV' 'sip-files00090.jpg'
0c4496a1b5b1d7b5d07e3217b941c9c0
ceef40983ee20e35d6545cff122c67bc4c4960b4
describe
'38302' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDW' 'sip-files00090.pro'
8529f75786684102ad518d77fe675c88
fe26e793e39e92d04b61890a945863a94b25d6e4
describe
'35070' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDX' 'sip-files00090.QC.jpg'
8943615ef4449fc73dfa08c9c776e2fa
011bb3cc1b3e0141edad798d09340989fe13d466
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDY' 'sip-files00090.tif'
4cf788933d368835d5a1c8005b46074e
0c24335f450c8a066b6f3c14cdbe174064ce25b5
describe
'1611' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALDZ' 'sip-files00090.txt'
ffc53fcadfbb017bd412e8df8ecbb9f9
eaad4f74211664498d9b503f7c20b2d4e18bc6df
describe
'9689' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEA' 'sip-files00090thm.jpg'
ed7b2d3639f092d41c5689469d2bb7e6
aff18693d829d5b71b11c42f4682edcbea92850b
'2011-08-17T07:44:28-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEB' 'sip-files00091.jp2'
f75f6be3ae0b67f3c89e272da7e15b34
1f6ed726c45b4b0e3f4245e68a45e541e10ad3db
describe
'98305' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEC' 'sip-files00091.jpg'
577d31a89ecaef679b08b977f10c444e
6d3c2ee22dfe43fb1de766f0d162a5441320d7b5
describe
'41372' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALED' 'sip-files00091.pro'
d17b11714de5053ebe185dafa03c79a4
1fd3e795cec277efdae592c3db11dfa33bed2064
'2011-08-17T07:50:40-04:00'
describe
'35587' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEE' 'sip-files00091.QC.jpg'
f6cf767478d997e57c90b39e47fe249d
1a2d6825c3a7fad4b5d512484f12c39792e05c1f
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEF' 'sip-files00091.tif'
0c1dd82b4782e1583bb57cb3ef42851f
9a076725ccf05bcf040744845352c82e000b50d7
'2011-08-17T07:48:20-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEG' 'sip-files00091.txt'
9d831fe5d75df1ee155a06f2b4f47e5c
e23e050dfeec5496c5af825a8012d046c2c54106
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEH' 'sip-files00091thm.jpg'
c4f35aa811ea5b31f939aeab43e7a5ff
8067db42ae4e9e161b0c8af10bd8da609ad157c2
'2011-08-17T07:47:20-04:00'
describe
'1046340' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEI' 'sip-files00092.jp2'
be0fa1a69bd6091d275a02ba7a26ec59
cfa6517fca8209b6cfdd4156efd146f110b86606
'2011-08-17T07:50:55-04:00'
describe
'102962' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEJ' 'sip-files00092.jpg'
faff04b674feca14967abf40a8267d29
f9133a45cd8f88ad86495569de820672755748db
describe
'42105' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEK' 'sip-files00092.pro'
81066ef30e60e970a6dd7aed9a91915f
8c1623053560b2a4065a5db984237574a8476b94
describe
'37671' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEL' 'sip-files00092.QC.jpg'
057ee54930059de01b0fc8ec3830b417
f60fe565f14c9f2561f94f8374a676fdf09108fc
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEM' 'sip-files00092.tif'
8412c6563d8026a4e5225d9c658d68a8
d1dcf0dc2333a9968baef41c03a73fd7acd5f7a3
describe
'1754' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEN' 'sip-files00092.txt'
f52989de32701a43acfdcbcb123722a5
78507ad434c6c91a4fef930af9d9ae0ffdc2f23a
'2011-08-17T07:43:16-04:00'
describe
'10296' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEO' 'sip-files00092thm.jpg'
ce49dd6211d4146681c47230e9473fe1
82b994d09dfbc0b7900a5b8a810f526d92fd13dc
describe
'1069336' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEP' 'sip-files00093.jp2'
b445c1f60b3fee070e011dd98fc3c422
0449ce83063b07aad589ff596f49edc7e7ae2f93
describe
'106628' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEQ' 'sip-files00093.jpg'
41e4052f8d476d8b46c263979b055b0d
7694a29de24cd53a0bbf46bbf0a00e5bb51dd9d5
describe
'41977' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALER' 'sip-files00093.pro'
96d8db86a52a6f9e43bf26d74ed52086
2d457984b86ef4cbd877e1d78c62b95078c7ab74
describe
'38989' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALES' 'sip-files00093.QC.jpg'
45fb71e4bc51423e0b1b4ac176289a27
40ba1f890f1d7fb4c6378e06ff8afb1cfb818842
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALET' 'sip-files00093.tif'
68abf3d2e665d780b779ddefc47bbebf
3c83192cfafa2937d001b5b8f46ac8322a161847
describe
'1731' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEU' 'sip-files00093.txt'
ad6b2fed6c6d04edaa044f614eeecf74
0514f282bf89c3503413c52a3619fbe3c51a2f6f
describe
'10579' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEV' 'sip-files00093thm.jpg'
f773f73c86f1c53f5a49f615a9c83c77
4e134d68158ddfb3fbb93b69fa11c63f77e4e628
describe
'1046360' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEW' 'sip-files00094.jp2'
95b4979573b8c84dd518a1d775527dc0
ca82470fb26a06c121b534c042df803411809f1c
describe
'102867' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEX' 'sip-files00094.jpg'
f9ab02a2539a1db64cbb6a2411c0f3a9
5f637a9609ac2dba013844dfdd51f0f7ff054346
describe
'41078' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEY' 'sip-files00094.pro'
2b808be5919f5942db8e059b0bc22b34
0218ac6d74c26d5ba2be3f83f82dfee896ba813a
'2011-08-17T07:43:42-04:00'
describe
'36869' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALEZ' 'sip-files00094.QC.jpg'
0d5a55fc2c703e5fb1807cd0ec746aed
636a442d6a5439d8f0ede64cd0d9aaad5b77ebc4
'2011-08-17T07:48:34-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFA' 'sip-files00094.tif'
2f4e4e45269b2a07a4a7ac2f8becd0b4
5e3b2bb4899715d676c20a3e697f5563884de24e
describe
'1727' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFB' 'sip-files00094.txt'
3743a19e8156f0238dcbf34861d1b90c
9d97349fcc882a87ffb55257aef98a7014015964
'2011-08-17T07:46:05-04:00'
describe
'10095' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFC' 'sip-files00094thm.jpg'
88aac0bd126e26ac5e90df85be5e733c
f266431614d7f259b69fd5837c47d04fd038f571
describe
'1069332' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFD' 'sip-files00095.jp2'
970cf6ca51e2e95964b97303286977b1
f561fb4a192d3fe634a2eebbbd779ac3ba590e50
describe
'77659' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFE' 'sip-files00095.jpg'
f375e0bef3123152b60b0f464231346a
f989494f207ccf24bb8e191e116b1b550c3a9847
'2011-08-17T07:53:12-04:00'
describe
'31565' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFF' 'sip-files00095.pro'
5ed56c280a863499e4e1bdb969885646
0821e027a8e63389e2f33c02055e8f93a9455943
describe
'28416' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFG' 'sip-files00095.QC.jpg'
a48b1349515e9370ba88f107b12c5021
d14be078f8b9697e08b75f6ab351eac350b9408f
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFH' 'sip-files00095.tif'
2f5463fc8dbdf71921e32c739f691df7
094a6ddcb36add314acd484af4c479f41a2e656b
'2011-08-17T07:51:09-04:00'
describe
'1328' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFI' 'sip-files00095.txt'
98aa83c512556bbc80224b2acf48f038
8a8c21e726713f292517e1ab44df841acfbf939e
'2011-08-17T07:54:13-04:00'
describe
'7750' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFJ' 'sip-files00095thm.jpg'
0d203f2e2d2f4c57bd5d7e5ca827ed3a
61bfaa7336486551970e955016dc6aef7f91ba30
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFK' 'sip-files00096.jp2'
48d5fd2fbe27bf2df44c4094d92b4b29
c31c10f5046faf3a6f0aa66ad9b9ef963076470e
describe
'101837' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFL' 'sip-files00096.jpg'
24dcc78438abe1a9865c3f51140027c0
bb2e594919b0a330f5925803377661d1e3364d38
'2011-08-17T07:43:36-04:00'
describe
'42535' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFM' 'sip-files00096.pro'
84f714ccf678c34b977a47e9d5c1025d
f34ef33c537243bcd1663d8683277c85998c33e2
describe
'37360' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFN' 'sip-files00096.QC.jpg'
21d9d138419938677538b35948c434e3
77e7e714675b1b07447b82e398938620f5ec5c69
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFO' 'sip-files00096.tif'
eac96d6ff7aad1b7844a37d246925323
cb8a0d573770df683f871db267fe6f6efb21cef5
'2011-08-17T07:44:21-04:00'
describe
'1776' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFP' 'sip-files00096.txt'
436eedccf8dd0d1530b0c8c98fa9f070
3339e7370e32ae4244fc342430db4fedb39c79a1
'2011-08-17T07:43:19-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFQ' 'sip-files00096thm.jpg'
3cb9b4c426475ee976aa1b79bbadcf8d
69505d9f251c0475e317a8f33900bafbb50fa2c9
describe
'1109444' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFR' 'sip-files00097.jp2'
c712e5a29e5d0ffb3605ee1fd639c287
dd4efd2f47b75c9afdfdb955177812d38336816d
'2011-08-17T07:49:29-04:00'
describe
'99642' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFS' 'sip-files00097.jpg'
62cdc607c745731868fcec921df3d634
41162f989725f8c6bbf225a99b710c1fe60a26f2
describe
'42896' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFT' 'sip-files00097.pro'
18778186d751da90840fa18790c928a9
309de62c9cfbe1ff3c8aee87e75573bf360492c7
describe
'36643' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFU' 'sip-files00097.QC.jpg'
a960c82d1e3424849bac9059ef83accc
66b74e9bb2a255754f5258f0303023e5ac1aeba9
describe
'8885233' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFV' 'sip-files00097.tif'
f5793831d5ba7e9b4c565f07ab9fef71
084d52bf4a04cfd54fac5e7afd525bbdb547f267
describe
'1777' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFW' 'sip-files00097.txt'
9e696e6905cd6eafbf0f204524e3e980
07cc583777091f1bdc8e034f326b45aa6667c0b0
'2011-08-17T07:48:11-04:00'
describe
'9625' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFX' 'sip-files00097thm.jpg'
1dceb896edcbdf6ab841c3b82fa15a63
8cc4bf1b0771f882d018e97fc100bd1a7b7d5098
'2011-08-17T07:52:25-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFY' 'sip-files00098.jp2'
414abfa8478fd504f4f5b52b280dba5a
ef8f2c4f79c5039944b8003a3b989a28682abf35
'2011-08-17T07:45:01-04:00'
describe
'105829' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALFZ' 'sip-files00098.jpg'
23c489a4fcae788f07b7e9556808a423
05159d6635e65e4451fc52720cce77ecc2f76676
describe
'44058' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGA' 'sip-files00098.pro'
18ac0dcbe629019531b491cbffdc4a95
364d871af1f8761e2f584de98e5d5ec740689888
'2011-08-17T07:51:49-04:00'
describe
'38666' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGB' 'sip-files00098.QC.jpg'
9986fd8df4fe176fee00e822d5887c0a
b9e463245603936e57179d1b41b88b8b5816349a
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGC' 'sip-files00098.tif'
4dda1b06a7063d852fe9a4fc15ff4903
db8ae7f87596d6e6d19c3802d0146f6b1b5f0f8b
'2011-08-17T07:52:59-04:00'
describe
'1843' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGD' 'sip-files00098.txt'
cbbe1eaeb2e90967b8fb7fa52b2116a5
f8609122d487cf44903133ce3f9f1db0b36ba63c
describe
'10550' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGE' 'sip-files00098thm.jpg'
23ad3d6666eb734529ac8bcdc21c5bd3
96aef6b780ce7bb6a74d1e78232d81a1ee515a86
'2011-08-17T07:44:17-04:00'
describe
'1109429' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGF' 'sip-files00099.jp2'
9b7aece838f4fab42139702c4c994d73
17d2adc6b068bb5e4b1034150e341876ab0a6423
describe
'103230' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGG' 'sip-files00099.jpg'
2c7595b7155d99fd7709524861bdfb7e
050da4c2c11c6a6471e22e21f7e24ad4b4905173
describe
'43521' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGH' 'sip-files00099.pro'
cabc8094f52e94919e1b419d6fa88181
946f26891b73517853696672750b714a491e4c44
'2011-08-17T07:48:23-04:00'
describe
'38977' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGI' 'sip-files00099.QC.jpg'
33d5a9c04f2d6573e41b530b96193aed
6b210f645ae50a062ee195f2af152c0e5af247f4
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGJ' 'sip-files00099.tif'
ece52b5ea9bf7036caaa3e46097c86f0
5b74a6a67c248d871871db8633ad4f3118606745
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGK' 'sip-files00099.txt'
9790e7771d7623015053af2b3bd6f2a3
8c801df439b0981f5cfc796925e942adb440d5c9
describe
'10357' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGL' 'sip-files00099thm.jpg'
f9495f60c32a3c5fb44871f46ca42e5d
c29efa4d80a68df126c65ed42402c72d5dd1022d
describe
'1046361' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGM' 'sip-files00100.jp2'
eba6e501dfc263a8ec99caf6627fb3b0
bab16dc5ca37e6030cca2213dd4133c872e131ef
describe
'102587' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGN' 'sip-files00100.jpg'
5c665113ff20071532f54d956a4b3ff1
087b4706605b29ec8911db5accff43798a7199fe
describe
'42755' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGO' 'sip-files00100.pro'
dfa1e197e6b3160c4c74682b5b0ed743
95a3acd5ec218b22ec00d99a688656c4a50bc00a
describe
'37872' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGP' 'sip-files00100.QC.jpg'
48c9ad4525f8fc26f3998261d7f2b064
805ef83a83e9ba14f6a54f839155cc3015da07a4
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGQ' 'sip-files00100.tif'
b00ecaf47eeac4d32c1075189b2ce5ae
b477ebe4066c4da4a666f8988f6579abdc15fd0a
'2011-08-17T07:47:35-04:00'
describe
'1778' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGR' 'sip-files00100.txt'
28ca61e2a5a56edf4cc4f5732b095283
c467038e05351a127e8f754e89dfba496bb9e7b7
describe
'10324' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGS' 'sip-files00100thm.jpg'
33dd9509974cc15fb671f37d9d00a70b
c6687257fe924a3da074e17cb0ab89f2008b6542
'2011-08-17T07:52:40-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGT' 'sip-files00101.jp2'
8ef5c63e9a6461078b4fbb7b005e31bf
8a231002977c7f8fcf7038b8d8919d95d02a1786
describe
'104765' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGU' 'sip-files00101.jpg'
2a08ed9e5ab2d40fbcc83025e40c0b12
92016813f3a9482dc74b6a448897eff8de124eaf
describe
'43035' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGV' 'sip-files00101.pro'
183f95ef39a2a14c4ede865760deed70
fa6a0d53bfc7769345015ca1540823e69cf888ef
describe
'38184' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGW' 'sip-files00101.QC.jpg'
53195b0e38a77087140eb88b34e52961
de0dc071809ce6447b418337bf2e22daafb14f2a
'2011-08-17T07:45:24-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGX' 'sip-files00101.tif'
4eeb14435460c4ce7af8cf2f9ef27f56
9e8be18c29991d163b14dac0136d978a34719306
describe
'1763' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGY' 'sip-files00101.txt'
ecc56c9e0665e7594c88452e0dd3a466
a0131dc6d8e6b89a11e878db0e31682908cddfa9
describe
'10184' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALGZ' 'sip-files00101thm.jpg'
d6175592c90ec24874bfa5e7ad0cedfe
133e5357142f3ca03c291612263830f9fdca1898
describe
'1046334' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHA' 'sip-files00102.jp2'
a8cc2c463e441d09a5d76b094de4c675
7925ea1d2cbdeb22c2ccec37f0daec5c25d4f380
describe
'104740' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHB' 'sip-files00102.jpg'
0b82456575ba4492effdaafaed319eb2
70bb8686e8f3cca6a28faba223b78b4a6aeaa71b
'2011-08-17T07:43:34-04:00'
describe
'43094' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHC' 'sip-files00102.pro'
cd034d32a55d5e5ac4ccb42c96dc24a3
b6a30c7df419233ab6dcb1f9f6ea2e766f4b34a3
'2011-08-17T07:49:13-04:00'
describe
'38583' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHD' 'sip-files00102.QC.jpg'
46c8895eb315b00fd548a9befd528a78
2cb69ff519ae89bf1aab00d4faa7dccd7f729c66
'2011-08-17T07:50:13-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHE' 'sip-files00102.tif'
b37a97da9e018b70440ff1b905d65849
beacce1ef6cb178e05e3960161a84126928fca65
describe
'1787' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHF' 'sip-files00102.txt'
1218f1c8744f4901105bdf0af5e8a881
d97e8e33b6f2fbb65c3518b43039eec776e6dacd
describe
'10393' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHG' 'sip-files00102thm.jpg'
3b3ff6e43dd31d3394561fda617506fe
926e806584fc2d00bd373fe4b65a743643041b50
describe
'1109447' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHH' 'sip-files00103.jp2'
d6f9d1df04396fba09a22a0d0c137796
0fd513be2dfcc2b9806c087989a659b9a49cf3a3
describe
'103842' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHI' 'sip-files00103.jpg'
2c495e9746cf3987556b0b8b80f3086e
63a545fdd169a4d80159bdffe08dd260d8a50f3d
describe
'43971' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHJ' 'sip-files00103.pro'
d9fcde2375ba281fb69168a80c6f2819
6da8ba0b5545c4db987296948a70354485cb5980
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHK' 'sip-files00103.QC.jpg'
f943c4b55cd474eb51f7c1797b67fa73
ff420aa7bde35806ee39c9439619736782586a23
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHL' 'sip-files00103.tif'
f85b96a85673430f38fc3523dd57352c
e08b0de7edbc43edd23e864ff65c07f7e7894041
'2011-08-17T07:47:29-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHM' 'sip-files00103.txt'
7b208bb9d3bd40bdf1ec28e63cf8eb0c
00432fe9caeb0427c657f60bd0044f85621fd404
describe
'10001' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHN' 'sip-files00103thm.jpg'
d5b9800da61c917a6b4ee59dd9c3b411
ed51baf3f56a71efb64018753018af86ddf9ee47
describe
'1046224' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHO' 'sip-files00104.jp2'
84e75f258046463e19fdebd84bbda940
e0b02806fe791125615a25350d3f92d91083dd6a
describe
'96199' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHP' 'sip-files00104.jpg'
17cec01b33f7770483935f7120d063ed
accdea99cbd6339412280bcf1dfec3dd90200913
describe
'39949' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHQ' 'sip-files00104.pro'
84d83ec47f7a6ace9e37466afe489fba
33180dda95ed5112f292b7047fe021eb19388572
describe
'35459' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHR' 'sip-files00104.QC.jpg'
1473f6c60ff71e19b672156a03254efe
41f12f1b8ab3fb86a947bd8626393d3ac9955528
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHS' 'sip-files00104.tif'
e16b0878a702374d1c1e9a27cd471546
2bbc8412c4286dbaad0fe0f68a355d71971b6423
describe
'1697' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHT' 'sip-files00104.txt'
d76541cdfe21f473f354bec08565e97f
0a288d11257fa6aa5e4e09eaef7ab99af5760030
describe
'9692' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHU' 'sip-files00104thm.jpg'
34242fcd0de1ee527d9a6fb3695f8b83
396b9084e8d3dc9c02d538339598ce85bed2cba4
describe
'1072027' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHV' 'sip-files00105.jp2'
cccd85e7a0a4c541cfd46c7968de48b5
b5534b2a0b8988c4ddbc436bbfd490a2e7929038
describe
'103821' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHW' 'sip-files00105.jpg'
17f237de59fdac27d69224aad191414b
efdb3c6a37a8761da28b2dd2277ef84cddff0570
'2011-08-17T07:43:33-04:00'
describe
'42956' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHX' 'sip-files00105.pro'
8e27615d72e365ac1491310c7d26bf02
9bf710157a69740bb1dc737666cbd5b1e24df7c2
describe
'38102' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHY' 'sip-files00105.QC.jpg'
95c87067602c47e7c15d71e1b448489f
eef4e218620f4ede252f80aad467d3be555d56fa
describe
'8585827' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALHZ' 'sip-files00105.tif'
99411e4826e439e0b0f668e1c86b29f9
824493af1bd4ed301b26d79a65b0a72bc41f8e36
'2011-08-17T07:54:05-04:00'
describe
'1756' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIA' 'sip-files00105.txt'
c7f14a3398814f857297c8f489e558fc
ff0029d0e137d78b9c920c50fb0cf2949dcfaef1
describe
'10288' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIB' 'sip-files00105thm.jpg'
b8269a9d1914588a9d7174f016648ade
9ffcdfed44fae6347db7d610ce83c1a70040045c
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIC' 'sip-files00106.jp2'
8ecb8dcf9c86e120cc3284c9cabaa0ef
c6bc54e3310a8402d8b3127142fd86a0786d5303
describe
'103504' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALID' 'sip-files00106.jpg'
542950ceeee5a96af26950805ffc71dc
e40f5cc2288cb758dbb4c5334f50aaa20bba21b0
describe
'43362' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIE' 'sip-files00106.pro'
4c0d58d938a12f2075bed2daabffcdf8
17846088fbc2a0739453696563f7d3927bdd40d8
describe
'37522' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIF' 'sip-files00106.QC.jpg'
58646fbf7d134fa7255faed9e2f5ed84
4255b7e6bdfa726f07cbf8994aa07cedb0401f7c
'2011-08-17T07:43:51-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIG' 'sip-files00106.tif'
50265194614fee3fb51ffd300da77f27
f854a03cec6b180e8ac1ead48abbc4dd8e39c616
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIH' 'sip-files00106.txt'
a3a97209935606a28d0d6e4578089852
6c1b92e59aab7bad91b1d4307fee6576e796edb7
describe
'10132' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALII' 'sip-files00106thm.jpg'
cad4a201686bf501d3b93dc046535d21
8e068f82891329b79d507be462714761eb0c1da4
'2011-08-17T07:46:58-04:00'
describe
'1091327' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIJ' 'sip-files00107.jp2'
ca8fd1a8aacfa2830f374d5b810884b6
cde886bfb6ab125b67f5424e9dc7d06120740bd1
describe
'63739' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIK' 'sip-files00107.jpg'
fe672ec4eedf08fbe746412d2aae2610
65255d63c3ade8833c189a8401fe8f502fd0b988
'2011-08-17T07:51:32-04:00'
describe
'24328' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIL' 'sip-files00107.pro'
6c96dfea60f42d472850683e1899afb0
fc1144d3f64681f577c4ea955b9303ba50eb3fc1
'2011-08-17T07:48:00-04:00'
describe
'23681' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIM' 'sip-files00107.QC.jpg'
6048b55ea837da9f6813931cf154094c
80284ac46abc48670f8ec7acb05aea2bb6e5fe7c
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIN' 'sip-files00107.tif'
b92ded3b079874286a233df4bd7274ea
1bf560b4052d17441ca80093415eef40c6b6df40
'2011-08-17T07:43:00-04:00'
describe
'1001' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIO' 'sip-files00107.txt'
762ddf48b29c13d7f2e5bee2f75bf7df
5ed34c71bcfd10a610e755fe6bd97043dcb83db3
describe
'6512' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIP' 'sip-files00107thm.jpg'
90af92dc915538a2bba42c1e2bc33049
0fb1925d431781c23bdc4579faae4ca70f45a503
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIQ' 'sip-files00108.jp2'
03b63c04be54c6eb96858d2c10781078
e53195c4263755ed3a8bb0b76b230a487d1a3c7a
'2011-08-17T07:53:36-04:00'
describe
'63778' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIR' 'sip-files00108.jpg'
386238ba5f2088096a3f5cb9af312754
2a315ad67b6b994da3fc4c340750a5bc1b63db05
describe
'24922' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIS' 'sip-files00108.pro'
0eec1c17d8401c35c1a489e05bf30cf0
a56e0e9dfc34559d85f91808e320a092d9bdc39b
'2011-08-17T07:52:22-04:00'
describe
'22469' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIT' 'sip-files00108.QC.jpg'
24f0de80dd05d36a2cca2a86b02842d8
77876a7454fe889fd21839af921796a394de82c9
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIU' 'sip-files00108.tif'
c22d584a02f25abad516cb4b0280526d
886c19df820876440a45c6e3171dad158d2d02ef
describe
'1113' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIV' 'sip-files00108.txt'
c0d0dc4cc0882a4c60cdc7ff5d289887
23997aa7d00d65e49c8d814236c28f56305319e6
describe
'6703' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIW' 'sip-files00108thm.jpg'
02befcbc3ba88acf351fb857c088fa83
5a66c947df864733a3fb8c918d5a613a01958b4e
describe
'1096572' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIX' 'sip-files00109.jp2'
ae5719cd1e087da3ccaaaf5650239419
929d8bc5856ceefea510ac7a12d7ce5c480219ea
describe
'87600' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIY' 'sip-files00109.jpg'
bb35d69249f4138e3d371434fb9e22e2
4edad2a8673573b2b1958cd833c2218195c50458
describe
'40819' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALIZ' 'sip-files00109.pro'
b531898d074b9d834885e570e91137d9
0d3b11a57190a550653e02bc030b64fe619edb87
describe
'33010' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJA' 'sip-files00109.QC.jpg'
264c98505cd6d3cd508662a0af421c4e
7c68aff8d10e0ae188353c22c77e74516a6c60aa
describe
'8783597' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJB' 'sip-files00109.tif'
5416ae2b753bae5c7d9555af62fd5319
7125ff1aeb5aa4594b2ccb044705a829c2fb68a8
describe
'1717' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJC' 'sip-files00109.txt'
07c56ccc7cce662904d0c2f68c23bcc2
1fbfce0cc11c377c492149d059e83bd518f69938
describe
'9083' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJD' 'sip-files00109thm.jpg'
b355fba11ef1318dea65384cadc7115a
c837f9f992cb783dec206eb2705243bd55a12379
'2011-08-17T07:44:57-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJE' 'sip-files00110.jp2'
a6e1860e29475231262d69ac30f3c87a
5bffbc8abad529324649231809862be74fbaabe1
describe
'92737' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJF' 'sip-files00110.jpg'
86317f33af0bde87c97efc80cd911e45
cbbdd718cdf80aa3f4f956937b212c29acc48bbc
describe
'40514' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJG' 'sip-files00110.pro'
e7fb2d14658152447bb6ea5f2286d5b2
9434e458eb89bcad9b4c39d4947f496c4a572805
'2011-08-17T07:53:35-04:00'
describe
'34935' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJH' 'sip-files00110.QC.jpg'
3d68e062e17a42fbede1fcaaa91b4837
c36570175ccfd878203f01d7db9a881401eaa113
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJI' 'sip-files00110.tif'
cf53dc346da89971a03a5fdd7f187fdb
7411ca2ccbb3a3d6a8de55acd41a2035962d073d
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJJ' 'sip-files00110.txt'
27acdc51fdb612fee13051ccbfb07b15
6f64c2fbb8b53e94337bcab514a28b0174f36b91
describe
'9769' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJK' 'sip-files00110thm.jpg'
cce52c5fd2072445cb92c3dc0870096e
a98db5d8a7cbd36c1b2bc04fd2e6552c12cd16a1
describe
'1096678' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJL' 'sip-files00111.jp2'
887bd8cd1eda3319e994e66fb7eedd49
0943e2e83fbbb92aa61f62ce3028a681828473bf
describe
'97065' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJM' 'sip-files00111.jpg'
30fb4061082df84d6fac731a6159b305
afbfb80b6566ff6ffc53bf4a50deacae7dc2a9c9
describe
'42108' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJN' 'sip-files00111.pro'
27f005970c87d8d3ff9a134b2112592a
f04109a2164f229ae80a967a210a815cfd6965d1
describe
'36124' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJO' 'sip-files00111.QC.jpg'
8c8d54a790e0dc99256b8ec84d264e54
db847e97c27a38cc7f6435f6ee87702f5f392ca1
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJP' 'sip-files00111.tif'
fbcbff32c3a13856c6e3cc18471eba01
8cf03b6c274f722c5fb6c30e54093ce9c19baa64
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJQ' 'sip-files00111.txt'
bfc0c769fcf6fbd9f2b4dd418b3669ea
02782a7fcc1259cfeb68a10eb914497b753bd3bb
describe
'9848' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJR' 'sip-files00111thm.jpg'
eff982494e4c7581eec9176200cac1bf
2740e6eecb9706e6973f2b6d512e86a6ef64bad6
'2011-08-17T07:50:51-04:00'
describe
'1046190' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJS' 'sip-files00112.jp2'
14d4a41fb7122d20f4430f561ab4f845
96659fdb08ca31b837cb548fa319781624e9f2b9
describe
'100725' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJT' 'sip-files00112.jpg'
1798d06ca5dadcde6ac31bfcba5cc608
0cb03437af8d798207b9bd6bd46d7445da4b0de0
'2011-08-17T07:51:03-04:00'
describe
'42093' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJU' 'sip-files00112.pro'
1f050456b4855b9bff6c45cbcb474cef
7e21803d31b96e5137251529d3ffbcd1a6af7e03
describe
'37369' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJV' 'sip-files00112.QC.jpg'
bdfb6af7cde6367646af08a318d3226a
e6d16cc7a1e331763e8354bf7bda7c1afeddc1ff
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJW' 'sip-files00112.tif'
45b72f0c92173d7d1f0dd1d59a3b8098
91fa27bc0ff1171abf43f96fdeddf93fc2a26c95
'2011-08-17T07:44:46-04:00'
describe
'1760' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJX' 'sip-files00112.txt'
b3bcb19e615008d242859719f15080fc
6793e95045e237c1a88162c2952e5bd38c0b4299
describe
'10208' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJY' 'sip-files00112thm.jpg'
1b7c38152ff42aeb2672e6cd9bd2bc61
82a7850be55654830d50fecc929a19015d9b11dd
describe
'1096717' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALJZ' 'sip-files00113.jp2'
f70e46676084621f2dd773defc564168
7c13f79a65d46164eae07b491b307b6a1ea10dda
describe
'97836' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKA' 'sip-files00113.jpg'
1fdf7669f9427542e001edc881e0b667
99c6b96fd68ac6029f2ffc4c7481bb198f3765f5
describe
'42577' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKB' 'sip-files00113.pro'
f61cff1b2011d6c774ec58189e3b4625
2ade858bdcd52521ef8dd10f05ffed8075a66b07
'2011-08-17T07:49:11-04:00'
describe
'36420' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKC' 'sip-files00113.QC.jpg'
afa695f7611daae62db9896661c5a012
57fba9a7db9b183b4e18ddbfb21c75ee873fdd90
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKD' 'sip-files00113.tif'
e8ef150376b30fd4f67cc79423e3561a
0097d94110113680b26844e486e4de5686080650
describe
'1761' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKE' 'sip-files00113.txt'
18a081309d21d1c85ff41d5b9bda6f3b
4ccf2b10a99f863980d604a590f96d5b97276503
describe
'9968' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKF' 'sip-files00113thm.jpg'
28d48d3159c9d2735b99437c1f728105
f3ef461bfff81256b6075634a4ff62083a9c80fb
'2011-08-17T07:54:11-04:00'
describe
'1046352' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKG' 'sip-files00114.jp2'
2b81192c22e56f61b66680f2beb44015
c8ccf0759136df2477e3157c41ae3c0f551dad54
describe
'95319' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKH' 'sip-files00114.jpg'
2193cb27e117da04946963c6f26179c3
28c012c7cc8316ce54ffb3f7cadbfd1f4d77bd42
'2011-08-17T07:50:32-04:00'
describe
'39905' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKI' 'sip-files00114.pro'
9b9f2d4b868a22d9ae5b3d4de24c0ba6
3e959f4ee311caed330253b9b3522cd78f31e20a
describe
'35214' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKJ' 'sip-files00114.QC.jpg'
024963baab9e7ddfd19ea6324946952c
5e5033e3b95152e5a2a45b38b2b6a3af12f77a0c
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKK' 'sip-files00114.tif'
6498b5c8a866dcf3b1d0628092dc6e17
f8618448e1bd20c31f965b7da7a3ad170eb01c46
'2011-08-17T07:49:14-04:00'
describe
'1710' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKL' 'sip-files00114.txt'
ec2f8963afc64b04ed1a321889e1f6da
1df9140f065eb33b2e30b6d1bf762e867a220bc9
'2011-08-17T07:45:47-04:00'
describe
'9738' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKM' 'sip-files00114thm.jpg'
48495f88d5e014d77b6da7c6df8f6645
ec370fd3515b88dbc08544d2e48f1123b5392ade
describe
'1096738' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKN' 'sip-files00115.jp2'
73ec5480bb0120e6cd45754f4db14473
75957518940f4303f91b5c16cc6baeafdb418cd8
describe
'99386' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKO' 'sip-files00115.jpg'
ea1962000d8c9714ae2be3a38bb878b8
ad8eb06ce9948fc9e58d5a695ef9c169a71af89c
'2011-08-17T07:45:57-04:00'
describe
'41862' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKP' 'sip-files00115.pro'
d6cfff539b6e7613f8dcfcf6bc81acca
6e83a3d694ccd073e27868b28638365f10506f96
describe
'36646' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKQ' 'sip-files00115.QC.jpg'
88e1e837303adba2d5abcd938b4e4e37
2564a251f0d1f205a5ed40f2d8200b60a6b18196
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKR' 'sip-files00115.tif'
f37b14907f751d1f4fb00acfb90bd400
1fee6933cdab5e8387644d391dca109e3bc54d46
'2011-08-17T07:46:45-04:00'
describe
'1728' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKS' 'sip-files00115.txt'
b89039d373ffe2c883406825a7e66a1b
6fa7fab2760438c41d0eadd6b97a79e1ba52ac7b
'2011-08-17T07:49:21-04:00'
describe
'9974' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKT' 'sip-files00115thm.jpg'
bcef7868a1ffd768e647cc102db8105f
2861da98f5496b492121aa18c95c6d201a3d9bf6
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKU' 'sip-files00116.jp2'
c185a54e024e533e0fe36c4e9dab9003
8ccf2c4a668173a840c8802a66afaa41a016e2d6
'2011-08-17T07:46:10-04:00'
describe
'102509' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKV' 'sip-files00116.jpg'
da8386f1939e0b477c18e1953fcbc0d8
682975b891ddbd923ebb9c17406027b583d28208
describe
'42147' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKW' 'sip-files00116.pro'
f31f2d11709fa6549f84e2b9de651a55
690d2a571152893115a4545ff63e7aa7a0ea3b56
describe
'37716' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKX' 'sip-files00116.QC.jpg'
2d305eea5c1386c068c82fc53d3020e4
13c42a8ac375d06ee79f787b7aff5f53071a0b8f
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKY' 'sip-files00116.tif'
31753726475e0a95a5698f212f80dc95
ef19e90f5b8664325f874b85b6e3001ec1b41184
describe
'1767' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALKZ' 'sip-files00116.txt'
95586184cea5a8bec95a4d946ee6aa1a
3fff4256b052d20bb91bfa518a86c60a81a83e2f
'2011-08-17T07:44:56-04:00'
describe
'10354' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLA' 'sip-files00116thm.jpg'
592138465e6d40658388ba8644a54913
b2b6e3c2ddbb0b9b9b0c8acdebacfd4b3c57d5a9
describe
'1096724' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLB' 'sip-files00117.jp2'
387dd20ecb0de78fc18086205fbe9058
8bf067c8b8acc042683e3af8cce6371b3ead6ef7
'2011-08-17T07:50:38-04:00'
describe
'98792' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLC' 'sip-files00117.jpg'
cc8d939b35266f2a3e5e440bb6d1ee78
9a61bddc15e2709394d1a00f2b2ae4faa2aed810
describe
'42311' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLD' 'sip-files00117.pro'
87a7b9c703257f5517e28ec31c9b610d
1f74219d64b7eca30b748a9ac69284f1eca0bd75
'2011-08-17T07:51:45-04:00'
describe
'36055' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLE' 'sip-files00117.QC.jpg'
fc823f1bac87481119183f5995a4c8a0
10fec7693053a3af3e6270b83b449a6dfd558280
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLF' 'sip-files00117.tif'
0d49f3bd79bffa955c67539d3bfc26d5
628dbad3c23ee31e42ef2c958194d65706cb4f83
'2011-08-17T07:51:57-04:00'
describe
'1738' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLG' 'sip-files00117.txt'
601e1ac362240ca96effad059bd49182
1c054c3edaac73fedb50028f4466067495ad19fe
describe
'9915' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLH' 'sip-files00117thm.jpg'
d74c3fab797fdd9a40d33caf90d7bbcb
148fa2ee54a2dfd62ebc52477a59011b1ac8a498
describe
'1046358' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLI' 'sip-files00118.jp2'
460636317a2736d1f29cc7074b9d6dbc
0482e4eca88765e53e08de6b2470734ac3528119
'2011-08-17T07:50:07-04:00'
describe
'95827' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLJ' 'sip-files00118.jpg'
d9ecfb8554adc3c9bdfc00d4a2998e42
4fd5f502143c460ab5756b55e69470d8530c0fcb
describe
'26779384' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLK' 'sip-filesBack.tif'
c79518eff6f9ad191ac2a2da0367fde1
0e4bca63ca7868e1fe3a982bfb28bde29d725b3f
'2011-08-17T07:52:35-04:00'
describe
'39747' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLL' 'sip-files00118.pro'
295aac5cbe51db2eace977379dfa6108
e14f5fc8ec67dad136d61626b8eb8eed5a3508a3
'2011-08-17T07:43:21-04:00'
describe
'35509' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLM' 'sip-files00118.QC.jpg'
2a695b0c7b895c6649db29c0d45cf853
2ee1485319796d48c119ef65d483b06a662fb065
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLN' 'sip-files00118.tif'
d041427df7822642d53356794f1a9191
14ed19d9805f1957476dde0fd6a567ce4e2aa219
describe
'1654' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLO' 'sip-files00118.txt'
a2477385700327c2acadaa11c4951870
797e8f5c7582dd4822150e3ed1e1de808e540c5f
describe
'9765' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLP' 'sip-files00118thm.jpg'
115a6a67d78fb4cf789338228eabb6e0
fbfcf28b3d57f2e9d6a908c3164775833b9dc004
describe
'1096662' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLQ' 'sip-files00119.jp2'
c08570526fc9e9d81878de3048911e3b
a81db2c893c13e9aecf990826681d62a588d7af6
describe
'94782' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLR' 'sip-files00119.jpg'
9f02f339e1eebbceed081e92db65bbe3
3fe0c78996197db7fd5814cbaf27750398b48544
describe
'39611' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLS' 'sip-files00119.pro'
bfa6ee30ee239c8718ab972f7d16b8fc
518216db14199b20892ad2d5c850c1cb518fdc1a
describe
'35209' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLT' 'sip-files00119.QC.jpg'
60b0cadb18a014800f4ca563ca25baee
4c49a3bbbd1ea6b50a1cf49ee9ad38c2bc366797
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLU' 'sip-files00119.tif'
b54fc2d6e2ecfd5b96dfebb4b23c4510
29aa408a2c9746446f099b961a30235e640b4ea2
describe
'1646' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLV' 'sip-files00119.txt'
7c428a8f53d4e658d43aa5c861c723b7
b1ee705c5a5e4123482c544852a82fff186788c0
describe
'9634' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLW' 'sip-files00119thm.jpg'
f033df218c59d5a6e6dfe002007022c0
21ecae3fd62220e8bf96e124a1d624b50dc22813
'2011-08-17T07:45:05-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLX' 'sip-files00120.jp2'
2848cc1a2cd27e572306faf72c854cf6
5694948a7260e37ba7381f85a1d6f06872748d26
describe
'101294' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLY' 'sip-files00120.jpg'
e82f8bfc92ce6713c0068d923ac3c3ac
9dbe99bbfd36f9fea9965a67d6e6517eca166b6e
describe
'41400' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALLZ' 'sip-files00120.pro'
b7323c7fc433c76c52fecede472cc0a8
75438e809cdd7cdf6c4bae5376be2b8395cb4c5b
describe
'37840' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMA' 'sip-files00120.QC.jpg'
eb56e05965d7bf08bb0030ffaf189e92
aa1beeffae5433f303ad18ac834305047aa9bafd
'2011-08-17T07:53:26-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMB' 'sip-files00120.tif'
c21857bc61f3571e9a5507f4cfe42132
2dffcc6ade29d79fe7897dd5eec2d602942425da
describe
'1721' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMC' 'sip-files00120.txt'
d6747b812aa098258db9bf4c19e8501a
0e925af7a7ae20b0a096d970c00d2f3a6ac9d269
describe
'10372' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMD' 'sip-files00120thm.jpg'
6bbb9dc54b8e6fac617b8729637474f2
cb891c8dc4a6fe493ea3eb658fca8d84c09a3726
describe
'1096732' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALME' 'sip-files00121.jp2'
05764c4846c885515173582509932eff
0a2666b009bb6949c66b9318fb6c06022336a847
'2011-08-17T07:44:10-04:00'
describe
'96749' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMF' 'sip-files00121.jpg'
1e5f8f7d69d0b6699301661025151cb2
da8ef26119b465db22a5447d1c56574f1c4c2d73
describe
'41714' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMG' 'sip-files00121.pro'
76228d8a705002deea753f46efea070f
f12fdc0120385698e0f334b709cc3628aa1d426d
describe
'35313' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMH' 'sip-files00121.QC.jpg'
2ae23f613251e9e3705118ead116b2fb
8cb5b1bf2839a247f88b74f71120936aed9a9cb4
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMI' 'sip-files00121.tif'
b4d70038cd1e8ff9b4bcafb7b1fb7e3f
5f7b65b1f44ea06b5432115e13d0f6f4f538d090
'2011-08-17T07:53:59-04:00'
describe
'1741' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMJ' 'sip-files00121.txt'
17cc235ea17a72ff150a5e082cf24a8b
bdbff82c46070abbddfe19126b6ebd71b4da800c
describe
'9503' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMK' 'sip-files00121thm.jpg'
e5f8d8d6cc19d0ac1a7c42c04796ceae
cc164d8d618196c386bc4f217c4ca92f9857d0ec
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALML' 'sip-files00122.jp2'
3430507ce2c0ecbe982915adbf27dd3c
b650ffd7ed0fa509fd477a3ecace2f544b8b53f5
describe
'93271' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMM' 'sip-files00122.jpg'
b5c72f7bd5cd1c4bc23a90060892f5d5
12ae7188e88f1bfb414f5e500b1ef41c0f3350dc
describe
'38406' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMN' 'sip-files00122.pro'
0ebeb67b06f8c5874ffee99cbd360260
76e5806054f56dd799dde2f88ea38321741bb806
'2011-08-17T07:47:58-04:00'
describe
'33871' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMO' 'sip-files00122.QC.jpg'
b4ef59f343056dd4174acfb51384f8c4
ff9f75a51d665f9eb02414dcc22861433e5559eb
'2011-08-17T07:48:04-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMP' 'sip-files00122.tif'
cd1532133e284aaed0f2843a0ba61944
8b04214a7e3b6da728aaa26949037db49d416aee
'2011-08-17T07:49:36-04:00'
describe
'1633' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMQ' 'sip-files00122.txt'
a69cd67e6b1fffbfebcf33b3348fbcca
d8b51cc9d4e14ce2ccdaecb6aa9deab38f577464
describe
'9630' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMR' 'sip-files00122thm.jpg'
b9e4d7536d186e6a70962daec7484e93
945b1393b983b40a9c791d965b6253dfd33cd3b9
describe
'1096720' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMS' 'sip-files00123.jp2'
d800ae200d238c610e7c6ab8b87dc603
8dc295475f662c496c6276fbddedeb8832ca206d
describe
'90301' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMT' 'sip-files00123.jpg'
5bad693aea58ddb00a80b0ea4864ace2
17855f3e9a3227dfb4f1fccee17bba459e300944
describe
'38177' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMU' 'sip-files00123.pro'
801fb42afe435fa0e7f8bb65a104e141
c185ea92db146f78ac6e8ea4d730405e3391054d
describe
'33745' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMV' 'sip-files00123.QC.jpg'
c23ac8a2469e0f38761f7334a39b1c8d
c448fce96c5e182829dfc28b4d519c57e3815c41
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMW' 'sip-files00123.tif'
8753fdad6493bd58d99643c5f2f571f1
af0d11bda470d1cd470bb7271873ce4638a307d3
describe
'1595' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMX' 'sip-files00123.txt'
34d446e34c4ecdb0f0df256d875b4015
549715c5cf669897519764b82b887599307001be
describe
'9203' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMY' 'sip-files00123thm.jpg'
7377572cad8d7541ba404f7bb7637d6e
c8fa091aa2526afb0feb5d6cf6b7a52c91100acf
'2011-08-17T07:48:27-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALMZ' 'sip-files00124.jp2'
8fad8e87aa527eeb9215e504a8029fb1
ef29b76169e542ffd478202303ba8ef33a698aa6
'2011-08-17T07:46:12-04:00'
describe
'88887' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNA' 'sip-files00124.jpg'
a1e340cab48e830206de26926ebcea25
c69ce94f85c784691ee5fd68d5e5e71b0c3b0b84
describe
'36356' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNB' 'sip-files00124.pro'
8837c825fc0549d4f8d0f47faccb6e7a
d8f7f81197076499efc666af62feb2fefbaef465
'2011-08-17T07:51:08-04:00'
describe
'32713' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNC' 'sip-files00124.QC.jpg'
118aff6e7ca715a2ef80733229a04255
c82f5eb030bb5b684ff3cb81b1bcf6031b9c3b63
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALND' 'sip-files00124.tif'
340cf52c50bcaa324d1cf91f8380a310
f55b71611c3e29294913891fbdcf3365f1886479
describe
'1544' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNE' 'sip-files00124.txt'
388212c1581dab6e7e94a444deec445b
cec198392a3d52bb2a6ead0134febfbfa015d3b7
describe
'9332' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNF' 'sip-files00124thm.jpg'
21753cd3c0aba67f1c913333e6fcc6c8
03cf64e67efaa389ff02c5abfa07cc1c8c2773d0
describe
'1096711' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNG' 'sip-files00125.jp2'
0be7ef7c33cb87ec6bff111b55ea8cdb
601784c91b9710083a16f7672690ed0c158f907b
'2011-08-17T07:46:34-04:00'
describe
'90360' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNH' 'sip-files00125.jpg'
be57666dbb3a2f6498486ab3d91f49fe
21ab612c33e9dc2b39dd15799d6c28b6845b8ded
describe
'38612' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNI' 'sip-files00125.pro'
9d183faea0a212dd6fa7604dd3223b55
a7ab904eff529fc978cef7677e78f10281527525
describe
'33251' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNJ' 'sip-files00125.QC.jpg'
04225f3173907eccb6b7c97838d36cdc
53bb60b3732910b76eedf39e28e1d9830950fa34
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNK' 'sip-files00125.tif'
ab621d6a0ef5cefac8cac986fd5864e1
8173e42df7d99926828999e3ced220d53583c934
'2011-08-17T07:50:31-04:00'
describe
'1642' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNL' 'sip-files00125.txt'
615a4c5e9e23747a864fd44ce771e912
0f17075d4c5d37fe6998db19babee4721685fcad
describe
'9183' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNM' 'sip-files00125thm.jpg'
c9d05ad807a69ebba1f99c428a1f5a56
2f310158da29dd6c08afbf29d9c02deafd4c3514
describe
'1046210' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNN' 'sip-files00126.jp2'
361222c4099b61c9162e7b2ff51f9304
252f5f7557ccbfd6e24954086ccb1822b1d9fd62
describe
'102883' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNO' 'sip-files00126.jpg'
090bd0d61c299cdbdb03d88428f67753
0011e1733406a4cc10c19e6f02287371b6b0b176
'2011-08-17T07:51:21-04:00'
describe
'41748' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNP' 'sip-files00126.pro'
811c723ec6a7f91aaf09c207d7c04923
1bf24195a3d3c3485c5e1178745567b621dadf24
describe
'37358' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNQ' 'sip-files00126.QC.jpg'
9d458e56ad2e7095b241102659bd5aa3
90b7c7ebfbc0d2a70269fb2c4c9f83615a6b0dc7
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNR' 'sip-files00126.tif'
801923fe30b2595ab91da0a9670da7ea
63c2098363045b8dfcec64038c4dd1ba040f8a52
'2011-08-17T07:46:01-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNS' 'sip-files00126.txt'
73347f592a8bf0a11b301fa76b0438ee
423c07b234b563b493b102404428e516d8afde95
'2011-08-17T07:44:04-04:00'
describe
'10328' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNT' 'sip-files00126thm.jpg'
392f2e61bff92cf52c054343980e3c67
ce42f32cc35a079df4e2daf00b95cae26e101066
describe
'1096728' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNU' 'sip-files00127.jp2'
3cc6d1435187abcf7e532a62430887f2
187b8d9ceed57dc8738741a0d929c4b01e3a3915
describe
'90467' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNV' 'sip-files00127.jpg'
ee3c8cf3024f4f528a4f3b9ca85907f1
b2fcf81a690782963f6902e0f2da7a0180d98830
describe
'37002' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNW' 'sip-files00127.pro'
18aacabc0270eb0627abc3b755e2fd59
ea2e1ae2e0f1ad97e89000b91f6543bdcb31ec17
describe
'32923' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNX' 'sip-files00127.QC.jpg'
1ac1fcea5cfa462dad69ef0a176ca0c3
29d611824810b7dd285a5b4b1a8c02f49ea24e3b
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNY' 'sip-files00127.tif'
98128631c6fd67b72927b44afd0308da
94367303d721485775908a76929d8a12360e7270
describe
'1534' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALNZ' 'sip-files00127.txt'
ba3f29cfc4ab8d8cef350386ab56f2f5
f4d947dc415a41d164dd290c46fa047d51da36e7
describe
'9596' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOA' 'sip-files00127thm.jpg'
9d333b1d1ee23c0990ed4c25620816c3
d873745ccfc606cd20d88cb0a7b99c10d0ed85b7
describe
'1046255' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOB' 'sip-files00128.jp2'
52e15e7c4e03582b5bde470a73a91ba5
96936e52f439dc370aa2579cb3577c75a044a565
describe
'96643' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOC' 'sip-files00128.jpg'
a597c3c7b8102233ea5bafa7d8f78d37
0e49141cb8ef34f331af4d62e9976e4545a65717
'2011-08-17T07:45:45-04:00'
describe
'40159' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOD' 'sip-files00128.pro'
94299c7a4e50e4aa0bc823a42decfe3c
50c269b29b77b37f250786b0299464b4ac0105e0
'2011-08-17T07:54:12-04:00'
describe
'35284' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOE' 'sip-files00128.QC.jpg'
49e323bacffab497b4126a8ec1ca8c6c
65a53078938caed85c5d6dbb2b487c213d77d3d3
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOF' 'sip-files00128.tif'
a843a4de8ded54c11c6f98b23b7dbca6
0a5ce659242810ae8babb6ccd62b905051097ae3
'2011-08-17T07:53:52-04:00'
describe
'1681' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOG' 'sip-files00128.txt'
c18bf1b82b383ff30713924d75e8ee85
23de9d1c1cef322926625960d3e13ce7f29e38c5
describe
'9970' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOH' 'sip-files00128thm.jpg'
ecaf270e84676a67a168c36cddef887d
f6d40b437f010aae295c31525464b607432a594d
'2011-08-17T07:50:03-04:00'
describe
'1096709' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOI' 'sip-files00129.jp2'
a444e80190fc82fd75140ad3c3243197
9d476d7561e97077058ba0877d49a8a932d8a68d
describe
'99218' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOJ' 'sip-files00129.jpg'
6cb70a92ee10eb5fe795263e04d79d26
07ae59b1f4adc4fcc3832aa1af64e3f68a700f53
describe
'43034' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOK' 'sip-files00129.pro'
71a7ae4808f05d7909d1b9018a537728
5b90c60679af9b65996373cc3f4805f414c1c0b2
'2011-08-17T07:54:06-04:00'
describe
'36644' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOL' 'sip-files00129.QC.jpg'
89b48fbe715c6a216114a5d5f9552a80
2137dc3df5d8e8bafbfa7b424d05545025d57b55
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOM' 'sip-files00129.tif'
12e54e5514dde6637f50b98c0c617b7e
444ec4a32ad5787592070b3b57dd3f52f2bbee77
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALON' 'sip-files00129.txt'
6d38e64a082e02b14fb359602c8c48b9
60e8234446c9833b49c92cf29a6cb2f4235bb431
'2011-08-17T07:44:43-04:00'
describe
'9549' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOO' 'sip-files00129thm.jpg'
c4c4863a0641814c656ffa8d627a1956
c9c55bd61bbe43058b40339ab84dbab2ea7ed2c6
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOP' 'sip-files00130.jp2'
dfaaef6b21f03af093c3f7d3ebbc710e
4753f259d1660a978b500d306c1ec61102cdcebe
'2011-08-17T07:49:50-04:00'
describe
'100695' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOQ' 'sip-files00130.jpg'
fff7f0a5c33f7cae7f312d538449a29e
dd01b703a67fc57e77e64fe09ba44ec209abb6da
describe
'41721' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOR' 'sip-files00130.pro'
d2a22658750947f3ff1b1a4624c4df2e
f188f663313e33905d63fa42ef9cff556c39474b
'2011-08-17T07:47:09-04:00'
describe
'37159' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOS' 'sip-files00130.QC.jpg'
bafaa3350998bc8e7f604aa8da4f2954
2085ca3fedf7825ef8d8caec7aaf487eb7f6a9e0
'2011-08-17T07:51:39-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOT' 'sip-files00130.tif'
3e7ffb7f158a08ee26fc4c70caa3353b
8d30295ddfc25d68b7d9b9efdf6e2c819796c66c
describe
'1750' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOU' 'sip-files00130.txt'
bcb7c34c6f6ed54d7c1d2cab45c66e39
abfb5e83e11ef1c08c5a598dbc7be188acae8c45
describe
'10304' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOV' 'sip-files00130thm.jpg'
7566b641fdc9223777d462e617fabd55
0471300653ca271f2b69cc07aec3bd482f2488aa
describe
'1096725' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOW' 'sip-files00131.jp2'
9eb5a6d238d0af6e34faf5dea1c31759
21551bb59081fb55a95b2e58bb10ec2d4ceb3762
describe
'96962' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOX' 'sip-files00131.jpg'
f9a09c7877d7fc626d408f3f8201a1d8
95cae2f86130dab29840de052548d5c56034e104
describe
'42444' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOY' 'sip-files00131.pro'
2678aebb5c4d510cc1562dfaf970f324
2d7c88a2e69de5aeb99314cae9624b7e544757de
'2011-08-17T07:49:43-04:00'
describe
'35854' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALOZ' 'sip-files00131.QC.jpg'
3508faec16bb11df050bf4a926592c63
e87f28c1552658aa3b2dd90fba8252e0cc2d7d20
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPA' 'sip-files00131.tif'
f941b956e27c4b28b263068b9bd6fd9c
c629a1850b12986424ba1514c03395e737283bc7
'2011-08-17T07:46:17-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPB' 'sip-files00131.txt'
fb566284c646c6b969a1f8bbb8bc0efb
41819a8df3b21f323b4c0c1fdb9b85adc26a0bf0
describe
'9815' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPC' 'sip-files00131thm.jpg'
575d0e9ca1ccab4f1a415a88ad344f18
fd3534f265ac165b33ccbc66b5fa2bd2b244bc6d
describe
'1046309' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPD' 'sip-files00132.jp2'
b5c77f6dd977a4918885a8dc904ef619
520ff93305b347008ff0ba20a2fc818ce05f3699
describe
'86200' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPE' 'sip-files00132.jpg'
0f7b5ac824d1dbb8922a540e638c9887
641f93579774a46c9c775807321f4ef3f2ab6d3e
describe
'35416' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPF' 'sip-files00132.pro'
4088d0065ecefb4b7f4536a37d6d4079
18963c4419e6faf6b45ca8dc779bbd9b131222f3
describe
'31276' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPG' 'sip-files00132.QC.jpg'
2648cf9ae25801e829682178388937ae
8ddcf962f444057ad21f028b4da747645987f071
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPH' 'sip-files00132.tif'
647a6b0d0210f8abce1612d1954b3dd3
614238cd6a13b0b27e692d9aabe8b0bf29593d13
describe
'1486' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPI' 'sip-files00132.txt'
c648b968ec1121314b62fbe1ec3cf149
e66cfa29a1c2321519519bee81f6952a477e1dbc
describe
'8548' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPJ' 'sip-files00132thm.jpg'
f57362e68f08d1f14710b74a3177739b
b7d39918c46ced78b4ec48bf8b265bdb5c2674a5
'2011-08-17T07:50:50-04:00'
describe
'1096713' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPK' 'sip-files00133.jp2'
258e815cb454e83099040152918923da
6b4d212eab89c99d2b07325e4699571bc2fa393b
describe
'80298' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPL' 'sip-files00133.jpg'
bbd3f1bf11bab6880a9e2802ae103ad9
e9142132d32bdbacdd8ce2204e12ef6c1f38057a
describe
'32554' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPM' 'sip-files00133.pro'
f544d657266aaa91dd9c92855c0167f3
e84fbf8093e88204a42fbc83903d270247623380
describe
'29271' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPN' 'sip-files00133.QC.jpg'
aa02e5d6797a2846642ebf885dc491b7
1b8b41a1e689524e303027cf2b1e5bd10a074588
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPO' 'sip-files00133.tif'
3f3e98fe3e206a619fdea85b951bc2b6
2ddd17ad77b3fab5993c49d2a4ebe772f0a33e2c
describe
'1352' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPP' 'sip-files00133.txt'
03c0e4d96e6d392460c34690a97a5f70
6f54608aa8812084da5dabfb5c8f6b0ae28541a0
describe
'8211' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPQ' 'sip-files00133thm.jpg'
dfba3d6afa0002e25cf52ba07e7175cc
37efc767d18e239aad1526f722ad0bec9daf42bf
describe
'1046346' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPR' 'sip-files00134.jp2'
98f24f6750ba5495c1fec02eda59bfa2
949787dc2ae30f9fe2305b1e413a4c10f9d41b46
describe
'102444' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPS' 'sip-files00134.jpg'
bdc3727f4e790bf9596f24ac22ba8461
29347c3886095b30ad54ba59776aceb3833e9369
'2011-08-17T07:53:31-04:00'
describe
'42150' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPT' 'sip-files00134.pro'
47f113ea0142d1be876b2cbcdeee9198
a583bb298c2aded634ac687e3e32286b509dae18
describe
'37832' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPU' 'sip-files00134.QC.jpg'
e87aa332ff021a9f06947fefc646cf17
5f25c681c80616690da9b12a033ba409bc279ab4
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPV' 'sip-files00134.tif'
a2e4c009caa6c4f70a2fc6abfe1cca96
4684c8bf4eda4d0b15e3cae9f0ec308674d70228
'2011-08-17T07:52:12-04:00'
describe
'1783' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPW' 'sip-files00134.txt'
e651b412fa8108e710ff10402fe593e5
23ee23d07709f62b3e8e50cffffcf9eeb7646058
'2011-08-17T07:50:22-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPX' 'sip-files00134thm.jpg'
f5a50c77a431d626053e593881040e35
b5be53c3c19fda0e430deec0feaeb27c33c7071e
describe
'1096730' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPY' 'sip-files00135.jp2'
9eb8c4c9306573712de61decd9761cde
e10773fee4299e427338aa52db58f230a052ab60
'2011-08-17T07:48:36-04:00'
describe
'102797' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALPZ' 'sip-files00135.jpg'
1af7fc3ca7154a4102d65103de48263a
f32399ba3bff771b04436553cb1d5b4e196fd104
describe
'44007' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQA' 'sip-files00135.pro'
58166582f68e29eb2d8e5797a6c65b8a
9c3b5ef748f5e478764d0ab87d5037d9a1027f2f
describe
'37544' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQB' 'sip-files00135.QC.jpg'
fb9896cd9002053dcd3c445ccdbab416
6298960394fc823dcabe21add303cf577faea1ea
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQC' 'sip-files00135.tif'
18981e0658544e36edeba53f63b7e8be
e2758ead6cedc702cdf1ce6bc053e221396d0297
'2011-08-17T07:44:44-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQD' 'sip-files00135.txt'
35cc0326df64ec159e99333f5a6a5bcc
844140a74a39289cf1b64325752a06b1b4d70bf3
'2011-08-17T07:51:30-04:00'
describe
'10041' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQE' 'sip-files00135thm.jpg'
8b843e96a80a983517e7cd284a09927a
7d0f64e064e31a4975296e0c2abb2e0ad05c6c9e
describe
'1046363' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQF' 'sip-files00136.jp2'
baca7b0565619ba1bf92b9a017ec3f69
07257af50d6f54cd57a726930123243ae7d73d73
describe
'102482' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQG' 'sip-files00136.jpg'
b31a386492edcac7b8ee22bab4796379
516e6fd8ddd16bb621cb465bf6d59196a9ee9a6b
describe
'42667' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQH' 'sip-files00136.pro'
c7d8d085cac6770a126656b417eac8ac
ca59b4208df04b545cd9e6ea6616929885c386cd
describe
'37627' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQI' 'sip-files00136.QC.jpg'
59a4f669aedbde954480c9ec566608a0
7eb4cd59718e8022719ea4d3d34919389c2b3e9e
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQJ' 'sip-files00136.tif'
609bc2948b02d957973f9e2c676a8b3f
2225f9a667b752b4d59da954182bca2b7610d575
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQK' 'sip-files00136.txt'
85b53200a5127c523f634590c64643c9
0156eae79534b0d1e8b5f2828b48562892a28e56
describe
'10391' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQL' 'sip-files00136thm.jpg'
f13b18334e25f52b78cf7c926608e327
be6b0955cc8da0f0642fa86bba2f163977383ea6
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQM' 'sip-files00137.jp2'
1058afa49779e72d89483549c6d7303f
c33b48e17dbef2efa525b1039fd3ea7d419ecf98
describe
'99956' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQN' 'sip-files00137.jpg'
4eaf07d86ce44dcad28f5fdba652b448
21814ce07695092ffb82d5011d5e7e714f0dc749
'2011-08-17T07:44:53-04:00'
describe
'42690' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQO' 'sip-files00137.pro'
1b3722b07c8afb707fec6ec4633fbe44
787a9d08099cb9c8335228180a28912c89e7a7eb
describe
'36927' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQP' 'sip-files00137.QC.jpg'
6d110ff7d044f30bc3608a777838c65c
dc2c2f5680ddc7ea3065f7669a616c58c954d775
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQQ' 'sip-files00137.tif'
d2ee0ee80f3b305e2071b85adebc4ff6
5914a71f126689c0992bc01729a07784f88ac224
'2011-08-17T07:53:56-04:00'
describe
'1755' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQR' 'sip-files00137.txt'
4f22a84454dec7b49b75612be5f9029c
973fc8ec44bc0e9f6c0485e28c263b37d86f65c1
describe
'10191' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQS' 'sip-files00137thm.jpg'
d974932d03ea14b09161918e30a5c7dd
2bd36079149905f2a00d3e5aef54a3249f68403b
describe
'1046353' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQT' 'sip-files00138.jp2'
5746fe60a6f227485f37547867308843
1281ab034a5b4ef47c498264beeb76feba05e5ab
'2011-08-17T07:45:10-04:00'
describe
'101024' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQU' 'sip-files00138.jpg'
243fa61dce145ad389dc613e6c1a0814
7aecbcca26c243297a1dba6412ddc170b77a5184
describe
'41913' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQV' 'sip-files00138.pro'
6d0369965ad5d394d4a367d0801263cf
4395b5e0cb16e21937b9c2df839b3a018580f64f
describe
'37087' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQW' 'sip-files00138.QC.jpg'
793aaa62fb86a2500b53bc891e0ba520
ceaeb42daa1b7a3442a53823c19cff33be2cb7ba
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQX' 'sip-files00138.tif'
911b63c026634988db752e87f864b935
4565fe967beb782284ea0bc442c82877ddbdf0ff
describe
'1752' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQY' 'sip-files00138.txt'
5bd90302a52d6ca7d24982d53f8d72a9
5b84642b37f761a384f7b09c6bfb8d4b6b635c6a
describe
'10275' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALQZ' 'sip-files00138thm.jpg'
de0ca153ba14f41e380c2b11c5b4bc3b
5b7c058495a8121795cfc050d7d5d407305163af
describe
'1096726' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRA' 'sip-files00139.jp2'
b332b02af7eaac90cf42282fb4b2e734
e7f32505cdf3f32271e88611985ed0c147b23c8f
'2011-08-17T07:53:24-04:00'
describe
'99792' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRB' 'sip-files00139.jpg'
b48e62817a6a1aa08cd91d89778e28a6
30d6f695e3de1fe203ff4bc6d11f4bdd53dc1a80
describe
'43411' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRC' 'sip-files00139.pro'
8d3b4f3d3ebbc7f3d4308cc32613b39a
2377015235106f9c5ea9ef981de484f9ad56d3e4
describe
'36453' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRD' 'sip-files00139.QC.jpg'
c9ee1c41589e2fe09b78710a9b99fee8
c8a742af4bbb0befed0078c53f8cb496bd67719d
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRE' 'sip-files00139.tif'
d8fbcfd456d50b9048e40f17fda582ad
c3ee0e2fb500431dc02a1a48052e9687d9d07774
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRF' 'sip-files00139.txt'
6a437ae01249119817c28f04b32ef7fa
f9d900e07b5b5ba4310b36cf744208a760b277b8
describe
'9949' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRG' 'sip-files00139thm.jpg'
aace21637af7fef5b6f859fbc8196bbd
96dfec94e0a5b7e9f7389c6ecab2fc25b93219c5
describe
'1046148' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRH' 'sip-files00140.jp2'
9427e9923444e7c44cac4d41852b47d9
26ba7e3daa4c1467de0ccaf4152ae982952afd03
describe
'97020' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRI' 'sip-files00140.jpg'
2236068ad68ba1692bb92f43d3f46061
73021b44bab555b8e1c58dd36bd2dcdb9fce4c40
describe
'39856' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRJ' 'sip-files00140.pro'
09faada7aba7757e5737dd97fc3b6818
d2daf95d33b41bd6bd9247adbacbbff4610a6f82
describe
'35837' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRK' 'sip-files00140.QC.jpg'
ece3232134ecbe8bde3f7773e69a99f6
80456a2a0c4fefcf71584c842ca4c644b81800bf
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRL' 'sip-files00140.tif'
efd2193c9d665b62c33f107f9e8fa965
fec998be0f0daf76271cc8eccc7c9680df18c83f
describe
'1690' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRM' 'sip-files00140.txt'
f40af70e15fb71bdeb803a49720a3ca5
cfd8f5904c73c4fc26e1e9b0677979e49a500e62
describe
'9895' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRN' 'sip-files00140thm.jpg'
5fff09727b0ef4f4d3c7248ea1605d37
58c9a5c6d45752870ff79f4570425e3e3d868928
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRO' 'sip-files00141.jp2'
fe43adb941047db1a680b4f8dee89fd3
03fdd97dc0142996f68d8333d61fa5b3c31b335e
describe
'91813' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRP' 'sip-files00141.jpg'
0c0149424869b6af7a7c4b536bc70a35
50aee628cbe16314595299d5b45749851edab803
describe
'39449' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRQ' 'sip-files00141.pro'
21e69f546d1ebade15d49d2558ff3952
2f76350c89690858bd97af1b179281ed326074df
describe
'33368' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRR' 'sip-files00141.QC.jpg'
49fd38e8557a861b1b33f68e984515c7
caa30fb8102ddf1d9a5db001673af571d8a6a2f3
'2011-08-17T07:52:13-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRS' 'sip-files00141.tif'
4e5cd79ad366a0b5ccc1ad4444a3e5e0
5798a89e974cf40c7663637a41d800c669d16df0
'2011-08-17T07:51:26-04:00'
describe
'1640' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRT' 'sip-files00141.txt'
7ab8284e87c9b7f237b2cacec8392c0d
e8d06202033f556cd8e0ee1dfc78c426fb9983d9
describe
'9408' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRU' 'sip-files00141thm.jpg'
1a583da25418a762b622ef61ffa63871
21e3ac8c75c87fe4db324d5a99242fd03bcec139
describe
'1046261' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRV' 'sip-files00142.jp2'
ad74210bc12ae882bd8caf0e0a41243e
efa8c314f9222fe805fd477ece45d1596d04994a
describe
'101957' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRW' 'sip-files00142.jpg'
8cbb91c584df897386bc450098b55a88
dc110978546f8f4b7237d99492b701f3ef1fcc2a
describe
'41567' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRX' 'sip-files00142.pro'
94bcc9659bbbe8577b6d848767268f6a
d9c73198a21ae5f7316a4dc76b0c2b3fc69ed4d1
describe
'37328' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRY' 'sip-files00142.QC.jpg'
06ce21b27bfc3018a680c7b89e54e7f9
9e2ca7f7ed7364a721b44e9af572620cb7f224fc
'2011-08-17T07:53:17-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALRZ' 'sip-files00142.tif'
a37dc774b0aab4dd05a1d2c997a080f0
df10c1c770562c2741feffd66db7e5803364fe25
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSA' 'sip-files00142.txt'
195fce5087580ba00d31a9a84d54ae4a
af939a0199aa997d5bd3f2c07d499578a5de92b8
describe
'10528' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSB' 'sip-files00142thm.jpg'
439551522d8de433392f1e7f6bcd7fb2
7db91abf0703a16b90f0d1c3dfbe9d99d0809bb7
describe
'1096573' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSC' 'sip-files00143.jp2'
7c70a8fb60a9d4f7940effc30ca04d7a
5df866b49d2c521099759a2479336a1486eb96b3
describe
'100533' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSD' 'sip-files00143.jpg'
0427db705a9db8189623e020ac330f7a
16dd62469e93d354ef6a063223e617094c3b4326
describe
'42523' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSE' 'sip-files00143.pro'
a87929554695d0c5b8c6bb20914cde07
4b1cef79f82cfc4350de2f25a774fa637c9ddc3e
describe
'36991' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSF' 'sip-files00143.QC.jpg'
33b43f10e239f8cb3a4656e4700f8765
4d1c9cc4d0ca1a33b4b5cf577873de56eede9f19
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSG' 'sip-files00143.tif'
7ba26fe66bdcdd49d55d04e59491fb11
798a827a1b581fe2f184211a6728378f2de5cdfc
'2011-08-17T07:52:43-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSH' 'sip-files00143.txt'
c952e053275afc06c0873eb76039f0e2
32b53b26311f08f66aadc89f1b9f19ba31761dbd
'2011-08-17T07:49:25-04:00'
describe
'9921' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSI' 'sip-files00143thm.jpg'
cfb58cd3b41e9bca8102cb5888e8b112
6bdcfc410607c0f4903da46cc42bf47d07c730f5
'2011-08-17T07:47:25-04:00'
describe
'1046172' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSJ' 'sip-files00144.jp2'
ceab26a0a4494a934d59a7c1412519d7
7d9f8401a6fc9fee65c0ca4ba28eabebb656cfb5
describe
'101078' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSK' 'sip-files00144.jpg'
eb173982d1a6e2912b6e33128788514c
ae9494a75f7a090ee33260be44ce468120a33c5c
'2011-08-17T07:43:24-04:00'
describe
'41523' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSL' 'sip-files00144.pro'
f57de5d5b17d0bcd7c1961b5b3ad8d01
0e445a7a1672ef9d7e0fc3549197a9fcf7cc81d7
describe
'36998' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSM' 'sip-files00144.QC.jpg'
afb5a74a5d84133d9f86d0b115831c0a
5aad9fe91743b75db371a73ead800adde5f862ed
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSN' 'sip-files00144.tif'
487759638d9c8327f37c97f0952f0c52
ab9564592f6e26f3c56e72cc0d6a68fd2c4d845a
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSO' 'sip-files00144.txt'
605d724a72bbfbfbd0a0b9f2716bba54
75fad20e4b0f54fde75a236e156b5fb5b57e06a0
describe
'10090' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSP' 'sip-files00144thm.jpg'
18a9f4593df996d4aa3f2ccddf860f2c
22459595287bd4ec821d3ed630339ce2a3d74604
describe
'1096685' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSQ' 'sip-files00145.jp2'
aea3634493261fe870288ae0cbb309f7
d7c6d89f48e6b4a4e0acb7762ae1ae48a1e32aed
'2011-08-17T07:49:22-04:00'
describe
'93692' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSR' 'sip-files00145.jpg'
2fbf861fbc76edfaa67deafeff87cb5e
c52bc56cc40c29b01bcc4edbd49de086a73240b3
describe
'39826' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSS' 'sip-files00145.pro'
5b7bc497d4ef6da028c92d7d3ebbc3b7
196eef099f9c816386a69ddac63b16724980461f
describe
'34203' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALST' 'sip-files00145.QC.jpg'
ee58aae8f5fbe63e534261c2ea1ad1d9
03b87449b77e69133c4f93746d75bf9032cb2380
'2011-08-17T07:53:42-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSU' 'sip-files00145.tif'
7a43cd2a9a0b39bdfea8826485452480
a6d5ca4e807cfc0c52c1a909cc9f2827d7c78c25
'2011-08-17T07:44:20-04:00'
describe
'1655' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSV' 'sip-files00145.txt'
d0f9141c61d41a4946c9ab38db6b4ca0
fc9c6a583a4c8ca4f00169e743f1b2b6ed4c78f5
describe
'9429' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSW' 'sip-files00145thm.jpg'
8651ad6db112f8491c903b6f7f7d8361
2390c60b4e388866fe478a1bf34c5c556a674d25
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSX' 'sip-files00146.jp2'
f3eee1733a04d17aacb2a6bb84881548
f5525a6082ad882177dfb4399a6ed78f36cdc1a9
describe
'98225' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSY' 'sip-files00146.jpg'
1eede66906666598a01ab29f65299f21
223626670124e50967b69b905b55310119b0f94e
describe
'40588' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALSZ' 'sip-files00146.pro'
3413219ee156e3a0fcaccd0707635e61
2949ee7cb9eba074847177a7f0bfe4e1d5845be4
describe
'36244' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTA' 'sip-files00146.QC.jpg'
c9f237d6644e2bad9c71d13c53c82a2c
b423e9cdc90e3be1220ebc3dd727e99030699587
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTB' 'sip-files00146.tif'
dd764ac3b3b58e36c57570014b6094ea
a1a5191fd4736a424a39f16af4cef2f67197b175
describe
'1695' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTC' 'sip-files00146.txt'
b2cac87b3930eced81d70323b997a8cd
811bf6482b084ccfe1c5113ea850644937a2ae08
describe
'10193' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTD' 'sip-files00146thm.jpg'
ea9ad1af77e54c1146f2afab1e177a33
222e944080ce4b37aa018cbfae432f30f0909102
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTE' 'sip-files00147.jp2'
37e630bbfc347f09e45a19c88aa2d779
80d54d73a87ac3a4815637cd5467dd8080dc50da
'2011-08-17T07:52:55-04:00'
describe
'79631' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTF' 'sip-files00147.jpg'
c4f7dcf68efafd76d5493300205e9cb5
298c2fc3e38b45841078327b91d50af0b7fa510c
describe
'33281' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTG' 'sip-files00147.pro'
8426f72580867137ceb2eafbff03eff9
fcffb71e65529a9b4557bc23ae1d3877070fbc7e
describe
'29222' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTH' 'sip-files00147.QC.jpg'
cc073b47475701c260b640402f28164c
a9cb9dc3755c721e49a87ca636a786ebe2216c05
'2011-08-17T07:48:15-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTI' 'sip-files00147.tif'
ce0cbc2128b6e4d275c576e5347792ad
07b3f60464a766ae2b40decd9055e81917fc6a1b
describe
'1367' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTJ' 'sip-files00147.txt'
9f5dffcd3e9cc2beedf4542b085f29ac
02ce54a0057eb3eac3fabb23ed0817a7b2603e19
describe
'7807' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTK' 'sip-files00147thm.jpg'
9e6fb3f5e0bf995d8677233e16937717
f0a68de5413169376378670b527d0d8eeecf263e
describe
'1046345' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTL' 'sip-files00148.jp2'
c0023447825bdcf1258f66e7bf24619c
67dff9931f9487ec8e6f7c7ac05ef72c8f0751c3
describe
'74692' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTM' 'sip-files00148.jpg'
9f7ca02bd693c19a00b616d11ace5730
abf15616240f877d40cb4daec7fcdb8438c809b1
'2011-08-17T07:51:00-04:00'
describe
'29510' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTN' 'sip-files00148.pro'
4638fa5642b16530e520deb50cce7a16
0d367ddeb9a51194be04a12ea30006dadca680df
describe
'27401' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTO' 'sip-files00148.QC.jpg'
107c73cabb88c9746ce0ed10b3e2e274
acc8563e62666309446ab3aebf7e13e6de79de05
'2011-08-17T07:51:54-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTP' 'sip-files00148.tif'
2962f2721d9be00a351b489f7ea2f4ae
0a363afaa92995225f45c22b70a6feee7aec92d0
describe
'1273' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTQ' 'sip-files00148.txt'
c79e43928ec5107fb80520815756b2b2
eb14e263fc3741e3dd9ccbbaee9453a7d7c7b3e9
'2011-08-17T07:49:34-04:00'
describe
'7821' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTR' 'sip-files00148thm.jpg'
836dabd808fab01bd9996bd8c41a3f9f
91bdc0d6eab8e38913690636956ff4718a8363eb
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTS' 'sip-files00149.jp2'
1c102e3adda2b4437f9ba73fa8dd862b
e5b2f282d2dacc0ae5d249c717e00720293db4df
describe
'100246' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTT' 'sip-files00149.jpg'
b2dbe38bb75bfff171f40538e34c4962
9f8d374f0c2ff28835826a3f088424c7f267b058
describe
'42926' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTU' 'sip-files00149.pro'
7d4b0e6463f34bb270750032548d58b7
f42534323ca2deacf8991c9d6654ea11f2b0cb98
describe
'37124' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTV' 'sip-files00149.QC.jpg'
c6facd2f7d0786cdb5aab5101a5e950e
405cdb01b4f3031f18107a50c21cf69c7fe6e760
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTW' 'sip-files00149.tif'
c4edb5ea7a4fb886bbfdc396223f4763
8713d94292abf2a98eb54541b420d06d8c56ed51
'2011-08-17T07:48:12-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTX' 'sip-files00149.txt'
c750c90b3a4f5dee613de1448c3808f8
589ee60ef0776287252d361f52dcbe48919efd44
describe
'10105' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTY' 'sip-files00149thm.jpg'
5e057dd08117805bd3ed3800222a5318
a16fd1417e67161fcf0428bde8237184951a4ad3
describe
'1046362' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALTZ' 'sip-files00150.jp2'
932d0c4bb688f1f921012044501b9526
3eddbebaed1005b3f8961adc7a66cd5ce13c486d
describe
'100552' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUA' 'sip-files00150.jpg'
e3dfcb5ca3421d7d4817504f326ef9a7
b94679de6bf576468c2a1427d465e1e21781c04d
describe
'41879' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUB' 'sip-files00150.pro'
c849ce9b7c8d4dd279a6986c7ce12b8b
bc3322196e4a5f3688d297348e74bc554a799f68
describe
'37238' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUC' 'sip-files00150.QC.jpg'
4c6e9d714de9b4ef71343b6664d752ce
012888267ea8abdbf2b48a6e84e1e76fe27ed7de
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUD' 'sip-files00150.tif'
527feeed3c203041714aeac06d4473a0
936da49c0c5ffcd04ec11f834e954e24fdddb6fc
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUE' 'sip-files00150.txt'
42fc2396170c44cd1b10e0c91fc262fb
3f472f9f6a7744859c24e6b578529415423cd07a
describe
'10160' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUF' 'sip-files00150thm.jpg'
54486de76700452c49b4641892c1ec1b
16c9232e922805d461f73804b1850c191744bb46
describe
'1096690' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUG' 'sip-files00151.jp2'
efafc14ac76ba673b2a4e7098047e66a
9649d46c21d55816e318654f10cbb156cffb1313
describe
'89944' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUH' 'sip-files00151.jpg'
6de2916fe65142c354cd8645151b7d49
034147d2b7abe2d13629d20d8c200d1dec25acdb
describe
'38271' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUI' 'sip-files00151.pro'
ae8109e5234df86bae908ebe373448de
032a25dcbefaf90777e7f4e6a1e04f0ad2b41672
describe
'32955' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUJ' 'sip-files00151.QC.jpg'
842c7560479cd6ef706873210e8eda11
c86f87c20c056bccb6ace0390cc2fcf2cd14e9d7
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUK' 'sip-files00151.tif'
7b82ca9729358da95671199fcdce706e
1c26c48536513add7a0088a5343fc163ba8cf16a
'2011-08-17T07:53:40-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUL' 'sip-files00151.txt'
5de44c865f087c84a5da967a3b467476
cfe7ab6a9a120bb796a61550cb8ae80876ce33a0
describe
'8984' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUM' 'sip-files00151thm.jpg'
d5d71e48b0f4e501883a51d87c562858
8235e211dc17f90df20b26a1538600261f58fde6
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUN' 'sip-files00152.jp2'
4513843bdce08f36a4f9b92a7de16791
0f15bc2da54ef1f2d65559021de92b59209741a5
describe
'95469' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUO' 'sip-files00152.jpg'
4523dbc55f2fb3a85a157b010e1c98cc
ff09f5e75edb2417e5a4cf0b193827d02ab09566
'2011-08-17T07:50:25-04:00'
describe
'39223' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUP' 'sip-files00152.pro'
5f5dd30f8c0aeb085e90db254c318cfb
5977e9ab07fb22e2739157bc5ce6a4869d006e9f
describe
'34919' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUQ' 'sip-files00152.QC.jpg'
40b80fd1171afaab47339d52bbe218aa
ad6b2a9e0ba449efbf869f5e29a024b34a9d5179
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUR' 'sip-files00152.tif'
af7e7b0d9c63aeab3031b1917cbe620b
cf5b74c4a4863472a22fe20c6d4a6925aebee5f2
'2011-08-17T07:53:06-04:00'
describe
'1657' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUS' 'sip-files00152.txt'
c95904e14def408e7d327347ed77259e
306bad3fc1239e477bdbeb4416a650260df7e2ee
describe
'9587' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUT' 'sip-files00152thm.jpg'
816b04463cb2a14f5656f82872dfffbb
62e5926892e1292b8137cde3cab45f516a37694c
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUU' 'sip-files00153.jp2'
d7c191cf9520344d05bbed95ecdac401
c0990be58feedf6cc62f0432d97a3ab28d82121b
describe
'92529' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUV' 'sip-files00153.jpg'
2c0fe9db770410c935a1f111ab6f0286
6977ce27ec3703c5d87012f5aa9d3b8336b12364
describe
'39052' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUW' 'sip-files00153.pro'
9fa8e605a6ef531012d41b52b0f3395b
7a661a973017c62580dca3cfd815efb5881b764e
describe
'33814' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUX' 'sip-files00153.QC.jpg'
614529c3bef555d4d485d5a30b9b3faa
14b99708d9b32a23c2f7c08c2d944ab246ef3a0c
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUY' 'sip-files00153.tif'
54bbf4f200651bae59f9fa2fa1d91320
d315040afd8f3b56f615bf7fbb73fffe1f98a827
describe
'1659' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALUZ' 'sip-files00153.txt'
02100958d214cc7de3b88820b32f46a2
82b5059ad7143e109259c59f8656e09723bb8521
describe
'9173' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVA' 'sip-files00153thm.jpg'
a11420ae5bd391682fef68e483358c0b
871a3b7a522666b2f884e466b67e24e34a3f35f1
describe
'1046341' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVB' 'sip-files00154.jp2'
5a1353a38c45d3864f080843ce29a8c2
3a987d7540a8c9f0f135450ea48ccc28742daf62
describe
'97755' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVC' 'sip-files00154.jpg'
09bddaf16689734a37ec0de16af486cb
e7f3fda045daf975aa69fb06101709f15df57f87
describe
'40157' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVD' 'sip-files00154.pro'
b6115561faa0fe2307cb44dc37fa749e
dcc98c5dd8f3fcfa0416558d42b48167f0bfce39
describe
'35565' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVE' 'sip-files00154.QC.jpg'
59e8d9fc7fafc78a67b247491966b46b
05845e0c915c5cd5b982fc8cdb5e66a833b96ded
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVF' 'sip-files00154.tif'
70716d13f3df7c1cacbcc6d7c8c21287
940c562ce8bffaad49a80a07754cae2349d014f3
describe
'1699' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVG' 'sip-files00154.txt'
13ed57ebe87dc45889222621238acd1d
9d89b91225cd274e6e9756f3535c65ae93492067
describe
'9800' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVH' 'sip-files00154thm.jpg'
94dabb625f5365b8795956fde1466d51
3f204eb83a9c5cef317253b4b427fc960580e0e6
describe
'1096653' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVI' 'sip-files00155.jp2'
44832ca0aafc78b23fbb24aba1fe5e8c
1ad2f717226820ecbed6e16caaff23e2a83ec980
describe
'98199' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVJ' 'sip-files00155.jpg'
c6e6a4340f46310e32963ba261ad4ad1
785daa38741696a1c3d8465f75f1939edc19d6d3
describe
'39899' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVK' 'sip-files00155.pro'
09cb2c4863984d798676db2d2b6542d4
9e1cf6abd9adc5bd8b59da928f26044367aba3fc
'2011-08-17T07:48:35-04:00'
describe
'37377' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVL' 'sip-files00155.QC.jpg'
c5f904d1c9cc848901d594aa3e185db7
a36c6982c623760c7510c25c824262600e3ab820
describe
'8795784' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVM' 'sip-files00155.tif'
87f27c346a9ac066a146558bf523ae58
a94c63b260f5c1206336bdd70b6dd913d191d0f8
describe
'1602' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVN' 'sip-files00155.txt'
07216bf55e7913a2f009b0a3b6f4e38c
84d839121ad09a6ea9b68f408551f3971c4e62d8
describe
'9948' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVO' 'sip-files00155thm.jpg'
d1359f2c7d1d3a2f9573b584b96b42a6
05205adfccfe0d0500cffa24b2c340f75671b0dc
describe
'1046330' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVP' 'sip-files00156.jp2'
bb8b3e857b751fddbaa9c0450f0a8e0e
a2912d4a732a2545300ad0088dc053959f9e3042
describe
'93283' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVQ' 'sip-files00156.jpg'
fe7bd6f8d9c8be2756b7a4c398da745e
8910ae1d058e4586155e1d3233b667efa6ef95ba
describe
'38428' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVR' 'sip-files00156.pro'
c8702fac5d1a60b708e59df9e0a885c0
7ca31382de3010583d73eff85df856216eb23aa6
describe
'34606' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVS' 'sip-files00156.QC.jpg'
22d4211acbfa11873660adbee3e802ba
f8fa2e58f4bbf8b1b2dfa132f89e7b5030214871
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVT' 'sip-files00156.tif'
329e6d1288283f787b08cc846feb00d0
41e23185c1ea684ccfdb3bddd4849191606c7804
describe
'1605' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVU' 'sip-files00156.txt'
e5d93a70366706a71d2b913e851c7bcc
1c806b6fdab48eef0b0fdfa29f6142f664dc8dab
'2011-08-17T07:54:15-04:00'
describe
'9672' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVV' 'sip-files00156thm.jpg'
3432aa7504621c25f0632bfda8225c41
e58769dc75b64f62bbfb429cf287f0b0b1111aee
describe
'1096649' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVW' 'sip-files00157.jp2'
3b735a4e3e956d709b0cd6b34c3d43ec
ea25ebf9d457cfb0e32691c6fa0d383072499d3c
'2011-08-17T07:48:59-04:00'
describe
'100242' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVX' 'sip-files00157.jpg'
5a69a76a0b676a5a21914674fd9d0821
5a695ecaf055232740d64f87cebe6821032ac39b
'2011-08-17T07:43:07-04:00'
describe
'39736' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVY' 'sip-files00157.pro'
d5921d588c3ab4bde9b2679ac36a5bfc
9f382abb1e40e85833ab077c44158271fe89b53c
describe
'36750' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALVZ' 'sip-files00157.QC.jpg'
8e0297fa535e820e1f886e4b2443cea1
3e838f6350595d59e061b917332ae5825e153562
describe
'8795776' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWA' 'sip-files00157.tif'
0bd10feeb83325dca424d0310b6faa13
ab1d34bca58f1e0a3858dea210ceab56e1474a1a
'2011-08-17T07:50:34-04:00'
describe
'1650' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWB' 'sip-files00157.txt'
3838ad28a65cb070b7b8e4ac86b99974
6b6cd27f2a441dae99b850bc8bd46cc4779f311d
describe
'9912' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWC' 'sip-files00157thm.jpg'
fdd86c6a5a05bb88b8b4a9cb87958464
4b37a760a32e21d39324ca860c31458c789cd580
'2011-08-17T07:45:37-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWD' 'sip-files00158.jp2'
a7de468fb378de99df15c4b97df88961
bf1416144b08beba40087b42d59d8a2f19f3ec89
describe
'95050' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWE' 'sip-files00158.jpg'
28aec0bce8c2b8277885a38466a5058f
3127a26721a58ec72bc03058bec2c1b56d91ccb6
describe
'38170' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWF' 'sip-files00158.pro'
392ee27cbbf39f4841ba153401d9574e
34db58457b8c9815a2f342a8ed8e617f8809db00
describe
'34537' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWG' 'sip-files00158.QC.jpg'
90866c1fa8972db9eba9ca907c4239a6
02c759cef9f3b67515efa66588be06e9566d2d0a
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWH' 'sip-files00158.tif'
db745dad8d98c14fbe0ac4dd183919fd
f961053c6d5ddd4055c2c8c171b7698c447bcb6d
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWI' 'sip-files00158.txt'
d62301c35854dda816c5d1850c1b46a1
fcdd5e937dde267f9f0d6015c23eb5ac6f12a21e
describe
'9810' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWJ' 'sip-files00158thm.jpg'
d434be0764babd141431d28faf088523
5240f830c2a16810147955c172858b99a286b03d
describe
'1096646' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWK' 'sip-files00159.jp2'
b5eb73972a1d77bded20ad35d22ea552
c2e49477e789c8ff9447a9285e100ca7fae39c9a
describe
'88093' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWL' 'sip-files00159.jpg'
041ca225a276fd4043ed06004d24c663
2fae9adcdf173b512754c203b87c3ba7ca8648fa
describe
'33468' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWM' 'sip-files00159.pro'
bea2ab0bf3892224f3f15d02d1da76ea
4a90477fc8e98af6350df9ec26c0b00d4e35155a
describe
'32316' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWN' 'sip-files00159.QC.jpg'
1398bc1d10f714ebe721c08f61ceab1b
9a7b897fbd1aaca022bc684602ec15e9533a258e
describe
'8795016' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWO' 'sip-files00159.tif'
32ea95b7d09fa706d7763f043e4b199b
375966cfc79cf3b35349d219634df5eb8cb7224e
'2011-08-17T07:53:15-04:00'
describe
'1339' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWP' 'sip-files00159.txt'
8759e141d9835dd3a6da0f67f422b5b4
b91927f8c119ddbf814bc9c20df3fc947b336a21
'2011-08-17T07:43:58-04:00'
describe
'8928' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWQ' 'sip-files00159thm.jpg'
055511cd155527f44dd3708ee75af493
ddc018f088143dd9492393c7f26ce04781d38588
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWR' 'sip-files00160.jp2'
cbdd5ca2ec912688153661c92408598e
987b81da319007fb3e28e8dba0f2bfd23269523c
describe
'118510' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWS' 'sip-files00160.jpg'
f4aac339c2953134c86ace733d24943e
213de75774b8a1b12083d3027546fc186b4b7afe
'2011-08-17T07:46:27-04:00'
describe
'38710' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWT' 'sip-files00160.pro'
34622085db81457da81b8c6db27e53f9
dd8a1cbff46525c90d6d7971dc5e3ccbdedf4116
describe
'41156' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWU' 'sip-files00160.QC.jpg'
f55583e00898e0421b8102b6332f4735
66613a2a4c3f390b797413f509f21482a4f38398
describe
'8393664' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWV' 'sip-files00160.tif'
5a39610b154973f3f6d2d5be936993bb
307553d460aa5e828ac8e8992386df338a74eb8b
'2011-08-17T07:53:25-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWW' 'sip-files00160.txt'
abc250472e5e9e5f2914ec844d87495d
6b44a42589571ed4b902ffe75a99c352c2d5c495
describe
'11555' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWX' 'sip-files00160thm.jpg'
1371ebeca1197f9dbb989f07cb999909
ec5c434e968c6f5adbae6248a2c1ca35677d22c8
describe
'1096600' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWY' 'sip-files00161.jp2'
73e0023580c47436548a56a2fc135c0b
779ea6813536d1d877020cf33e98bfa314c55fd0
describe
'87946' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALWZ' 'sip-files00161.jpg'
f43c8611bf310938ef9463715c494eb9
f136acbe19787044b5e6cf7f043b8b36de52b8ad
'2011-08-17T07:43:12-04:00'
describe
'35502' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXA' 'sip-files00161.pro'
faa7308e26141e76d7ba9ce0ebda022d
ed2998bbcb29265f79e38f30b6bd05c6f585101e
describe
'31740' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXB' 'sip-files00161.QC.jpg'
8b788e1fe0b6e2f63f3391f8df0a889c
e90f6969cf6e7ac34bc82359b70c55ef89b5addc
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXC' 'sip-files00161.tif'
01a3b4e8ed1d121e7a4ec587d62678ea
55368dc7cf4a6d8c22c325845073f3bb86fae2dc
'2011-08-17T07:44:38-04:00'
describe
'1514' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXD' 'sip-files00161.txt'
f2e4599bf8f089b19a7e4eff44e18e15
1a56f451c1c4dbae8ca76bdaf801d1ccb44a1af8
describe
'9193' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXE' 'sip-files00161thm.jpg'
f1b2392fba51e2a814bcd13a909f2fa5
030d69ccd419bc6b2f82ad489874713052cf55d1
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXF' 'sip-files00162.jp2'
f22069ce698fcc996abe5ca3a3f33124
bdd1a1f13dcaf777afab720d49f40ea4e4d5743f
describe
'103310' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXG' 'sip-files00162.jpg'
88e81836b6e40ccd3846cdaa3a6e5f4a
43566e9ed2106064966d2e8fbc94d86ea73e0974
describe
'43749' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXH' 'sip-files00162.pro'
36389dda07f3ef558f5e33398ab9bf45
0cc10cd9d10fd86dc1f70745c7b4b8543d2b7f6a
describe
'37517' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXI' 'sip-files00162.QC.jpg'
1621ac9fb2299273755a3b9c6828d479
32816c704dcd20d8d6696708a7bcbda7d7898a3c
'2011-08-17T07:43:17-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXJ' 'sip-files00162.tif'
b1b47ec4162b7f4079645a20454d2b8e
18c3271acf39c3932deec1ff584a25f2188a58b7
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXK' 'sip-files00162.txt'
8770382dce4bba460ee5e0dffc727a5a
087f276069b64b9c42c85261041918b35785e183
describe
'10087' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXL' 'sip-files00162thm.jpg'
869aad1732f494d89b0e7a7580be2004
d43773df5a8bec6d9588e13d38f3b5371c2d7ddc
describe
'1096643' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXM' 'sip-files00163.jp2'
ffa53b03230078d632401bab3f675438
4f68e44814ac215bac7e51ac17a6555d56b2627e
'2011-08-17T07:53:51-04:00'
describe
'107729' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXN' 'sip-files00163.jpg'
9fb17cc4240aac78a274dcff6be080e5
8d15809468473b9698750c976463a4240b404f01
describe
'43740' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXO' 'sip-files00163.pro'
67e02d752322453333ec044660191550
1041d339f4133493d207a0b5a568500ad499a246
describe
'39874' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXP' 'sip-files00163.QC.jpg'
fc9a2c0210d4b1a5a0d31ca7757fc0ae
cd68737d9e6f772bf35239d928b6f25e67c5f514
describe
'8782875' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXQ' 'sip-files00163.tif'
2c8c2b8651056472d24d796f8d8a48a2
12a591f4e80aa033e9bf6d14515229e634f8df6b
describe
'1762' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXR' 'sip-files00163.txt'
08be79343e3dad71a676a2c11bc299bf
f7d32b81b02ce83ee70a246c3b0993ad596ba032
describe
'10611' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXS' 'sip-files00163thm.jpg'
13d3a147a693e5c2f73c2f7de4549686
345e0895941f17c6850bb8abae0b477ced6bc788
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXT' 'sip-files00164.jp2'
563b660ce5947fa15d4f5f08a495bc05
52a12a9248266812591414c6175794788028fa22
'2011-08-17T07:47:40-04:00'
describe
'91517' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXU' 'sip-files00164.jpg'
a893d19748ebcec38d6ae0e3c44d099d
dab5ea17b20d975a593eda7a12a2b50e337a2327
'2011-08-17T07:43:55-04:00'
describe
'37014' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXV' 'sip-files00164.pro'
a9b1dc0fa306136bcdd19b075d9561e1
5916bee6c4c0424a133fc2cc4cbbb77d50799e10
describe
'33984' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXW' 'sip-files00164.QC.jpg'
04dc1e0ee7f278124eeb03c20ba0b040
1d9aa2eaf18020fedbf6aa4b9d7228b6c9976b9c
'2011-08-17T07:46:53-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXX' 'sip-files00164.tif'
3aa99a62c80d30b6954e1e234fc66e02
178eacce3b943ed83802363fba3caf4a6325b491
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXY' 'sip-files00164.txt'
5b53a32f3c6ce601c2773d8d63923701
7397b669985977edc0f71137d6748f3cc6adec0c
describe
'9861' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALXZ' 'sip-files00164thm.jpg'
16ab622f4f7bbc89f84d078dd170bfd3
bdf9b839f9ec44e9c73d0935275ecf46774899c3
describe
'1096723' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYA' 'sip-files00165.jp2'
13d75cf55c1431531f758148f4dc5086
96a5b52e7f36db0be01931a20976291e47820b7e
describe
'99616' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYB' 'sip-files00165.jpg'
4d3f4cfe5020a16300c0f92a230f02ff
a316dd6d9c1bec6e3bc32f97b8dd46678d39ea15
describe
'42253' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYC' 'sip-files00165.pro'
407222870508e848ea7761e1f431610d
a56fe95a7c82d22de3ab1e674901c1834b5132da
'2011-08-17T07:51:10-04:00'
describe
'36625' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYD' 'sip-files00165.QC.jpg'
19ee7561a0217ccb78445b2b93d5c7b9
2a2a6968ee761a301bb3e85305936a644004edde
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYE' 'sip-files00165.tif'
0f69f9e48ce94db2d02c553f19d40dc9
7596eebad2dfb6398755513140a1e268b0694de7
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYF' 'sip-files00165.txt'
36a7f69fd528fb398665761e04de6320
aca0bea21a5234b2629ad8bfb786b76eebd72338
describe
'9845' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYG' 'sip-files00165thm.jpg'
b84098f021d75fbeb9e18f16471e063d
381c9adeb9376d7b2654089cb9e06ad9a76efed8
describe
'1046262' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYH' 'sip-files00166.jp2'
4fbacc04568add0fc54d3dee5e215534
684a82252990cf1f4da5195977e8111d0339866f
describe
'91113' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYI' 'sip-files00166.jpg'
3dcbdff45f65e10be7a75364f239a5a5
0bffd8098af51d453a0ca6617072b0f0ba95d7b4
describe
'37653' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYJ' 'sip-files00166.pro'
1b60f0ba66126a29e74898133fa699ff
c9cbe8ae884837ed4d8366fae32d959a62ee5a79
describe
'33176' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYK' 'sip-files00166.QC.jpg'
a3321214f943bec3a326b7bee97c9c30
d93c7d191407b3137b50074a45ffe4c3e71a29f3
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYL' 'sip-files00166.tif'
295abf728d658dd30f9c022bb58486b0
d505dcad07ce85b2a25b24482c8d77b8637c1924
describe
'1597' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYM' 'sip-files00166.txt'
799ef7fda0c92dd085de206d59605606
46a45c817c79f0449c495984eaa8e0154c6c98e2
describe
'9513' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYN' 'sip-files00166thm.jpg'
779f5df082300a2eb5841c6cdc64d02a
6a713c92304af34cb443b2323d5d9291c3c28448
describe
'1096628' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYO' 'sip-files00167.jp2'
f6140780b73d6a0401679fa3d592e3ce
39b55cb7a2dd09eb23acd8a526210fe9674519e9
describe
'96850' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYP' 'sip-files00167.jpg'
228923d4b84e2e39f2243c1b53a485d5
194ff42b9e7b57f64a7140cbd879e06c890dd03a
describe
'39320' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYQ' 'sip-files00167.pro'
ab3f34c0715ac0596e920c919348075f
78e948888f71dec1cdc7f017e34dc17cd0135a5c
describe
'35732' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYR' 'sip-files00167.QC.jpg'
12dedd00a93d13b3952eff15c37088d5
6258d0afcaa6b686fc45047a2cec5c1e9c2aaa3b
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYS' 'sip-files00167.tif'
65c90c1476e756ed65d42be25e25fb5b
8e2a38c2e774c1a70b591b0b7a3a5c99e38a122d
describe
'1592' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYT' 'sip-files00167.txt'
04fadb77d23314474b65369412058c02
74cea73a3f27abd9191acddcbf1bda01f941ade4
describe
'9931' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYU' 'sip-files00167thm.jpg'
aad8fcb36b52ace95b96b0547f08c3d8
5a558b98cdbda5f1a81224acee18cf260db6090b
describe
'1046327' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYV' 'sip-files00168.jp2'
3fb8bdd43e48009de72b8bceeab51136
8161cce8e7b208765348024da8f4e3e5ded9a24a
describe
'99455' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYW' 'sip-files00168.jpg'
0bac68c67233a8b382287e32b57f7d97
eaf9ba82a8d5a2cfa217ea468526f03db0ac289c
describe
'41378' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYX' 'sip-files00168.pro'
526b7098ca5d7b9e2ba19d9f697175e4
22070fb20459d99cb1ecb2a66322f0f59f6ddbb1
describe
'36339' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYY' 'sip-files00168.QC.jpg'
55e9f706623a15692a5c799b7c8dca74
299d69dc818a7691890c783732a3af8b229c5fc5
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALYZ' 'sip-files00168.tif'
a92cca621faaf41eb07de53ba7c6c4ce
012f5644ddd9a51d3b8a0afb4dcfd0a879a4d818
'2011-08-17T07:53:11-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZA' 'sip-files00168.txt'
e08da10a2d1e6678b1c5e76c440fe811
7609fc971ecdebdcfc3a9cdc3d0497fe93185e04
describe
'10178' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZB' 'sip-files00168thm.jpg'
c7c953045aeeaf0941d3b89280669e2e
9e9f925f4ea988f8569856e138d2860f6628f99a
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZC' 'sip-files00169.jp2'
2c53c9b2137652040337d720e99f6b37
7d6a74122cf316f1e7e59706f6785cd96b373fa5
describe
'95794' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZD' 'sip-files00169.jpg'
dfc83012200ca38476d7d29acec534fa
2f7be205a15f32adf37aaf39ed5fc717b1a8709d
describe
'41813' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZE' 'sip-files00169.pro'
7d5df75b01c141c56c4c426186ea1a86
a09dbd82e3ab8ad72d5f6af116a7b435a3bc5f36
describe
'34858' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZF' 'sip-files00169.QC.jpg'
a3e6d5d11b8b59221183c06ef50ef5af
c459b27056b25c04cde8eb06b9facfa8bbccc60f
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZG' 'sip-files00169.tif'
53ea646b360889e86bf1f85af2c601fb
b0a92d7b7fd60f379ada18848e4cc863d77815cc
describe
'1713' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZH' 'sip-files00169.txt'
ec4cae63e029028f3354efc1a351cefe
ecaf4b570ef56456ac06b0d7f825cac464edf8dd
describe
'9656' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZI' 'sip-files00169thm.jpg'
e8b6055c7db6cbbf96dece5c1859f73a
b5b67f3c2156cd0511ff55f262e9fa9f2f24c682
describe
'1046226' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZJ' 'sip-files00170.jp2'
d6ec9436004ae9e182b2d9c4847dbb95
2871d5a9451e6279bb4e38577423f07b8757065f
describe
'102943' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZK' 'sip-files00170.jpg'
2c18f5b3240b45d0a02a9794580ff97a
7b2ae53fa6744c31d3f70414b4668f7e752a75a8
describe
'42313' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZL' 'sip-files00170.pro'
3310de9199b87731bbde79d6bde7dd84
e83dff49d7f74428b4cc773cddf946f759d2a8ab
describe
'37854' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZM' 'sip-files00170.QC.jpg'
1cb4104ac1f6f47ea5615d0ebad006f4
3398021bb84ba6ebcd89773fc89e2f646acffe23
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZN' 'sip-files00170.tif'
ef7513d8887bf1702cd1883d6f343cd8
9875975215d749c03d468648cf9ed9b9cfef193a
describe
'1748' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZO' 'sip-files00170.txt'
c6c0b7a7747449abf15de3f66eb66117
03ec091b83b257fc63d12b0cc1a856c752e5abf3
describe
'10401' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZP' 'sip-files00170thm.jpg'
8ce5c5abc98c525c6a7029097860e54f
a0fffbb1dc3619e1f31ec0173bed6496118d31fd
describe
'1096641' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZQ' 'sip-files00171.jp2'
49219f9254eb8572d897361db99a19dc
ed5704fbda55d69c3500e964943c644cc655ef2a
describe
'104324' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZR' 'sip-files00171.jpg'
a71e810c9cabcfd618f3c46e797a1667
6facad62774d7eb140720b23632e9135322c4737
'2011-08-17T07:47:49-04:00'
describe
'43843' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZS' 'sip-files00171.pro'
d48b4037e43ca3e9a7b1ce2b60fa81d0
c48053631514bb19c2a36722c6eb36196600e369
describe
'38034' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZT' 'sip-files00171.QC.jpg'
5140cfda929eed7dafc9b614164a067a
229d4aba6ac4729488dbed712f2c0fedc5fd3fb8
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZU' 'sip-files00171.tif'
11d2de981eda7a04d9d2a8488c8c24fa
b6edab91d1db0b4be69175647d5425f49f817acd
'2011-08-17T07:52:45-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZV' 'sip-files00171.txt'
bbb750f15ea61039d027fadc2d84382f
68df287283d166ec4a3bce13b21a11d39d332958
describe
'10387' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZW' 'sip-files00171thm.jpg'
01ba98bc2489d384a637eb05bee83828
a341379222ca879940bd4a462a5375de046f3972
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZX' 'sip-files00172.jp2'
35e13a4b11eef8e9f3a6a674642ec68d
0b328158522fb06ff0d3b0467fe45ccb8194afdc
describe
'104689' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZY' 'sip-files00172.jpg'
66b52f7d7b45f90e406d407f23e3fc41
2e70f77c62b68c23f30af0cf756c89ceecbe4b39
describe
'43449' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAALZZ' 'sip-files00172.pro'
23f5bcbaf054858eec94d2aa84d48981
25cefed5c100322ac8181bc96ceabb3ca6b49f15
'2011-08-17T07:45:46-04:00'
describe
'38919' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAA' 'sip-files00172.QC.jpg'
d459252a0c6969cf89cd6297c63e52cc
0e9b69833b5d744fdc88efe7b1cff21fc4201f1a
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAB' 'sip-files00172.tif'
f44f9cbdd93497e6b0663c4c9861e561
97a17c4dfaf10b9d6232f39dfa06ea24173ddf6c
describe
'1781' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAC' 'sip-files00172.txt'
d7dd2d81d44d4ede2f9ee6ea79002ab6
6e902b5f4071407dbac2d4524467b0f56b87b186
describe
'10469' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAD' 'sip-files00172thm.jpg'
2486c7fbdf8c2dab0da9c51307be33d2
9876c3371d94a9f7cd7c50deeaf60fea0e9a9dea
'2011-08-17T07:48:19-04:00'
describe
'1103367' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAE' 'sip-files00173.jp2'
9f64abec66b34f46ae0fe3d0742def4d
e4c19caba7ba65551a8e6cb50f3a7428288482f7
describe
'85183' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAF' 'sip-files00173.jpg'
9fd2706a231d90dfa6e7c7182d82ac88
e024293a9d9551d26f66ae51f8a68f3f7d71b50d
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAG' 'sip-files00173.pro'
2ca97c5c8d86b20238bc4f35a2f34a55
3975213438cfcdbb165a5b2ca526acfc87c64561
describe
'31222' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAH' 'sip-files00173.QC.jpg'
4957dae90a9c7ba3249d21b3e82b75e2
8fe3835199eb73d1f83ff7d091f4d8fb4d326793
describe
'8837091' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAI' 'sip-files00173.tif'
f1e00d7227f6fa9815524b02c0f59e9e
7f210129b2adbef4784b6d21ae0edf3b0ed5758c
'2011-08-17T07:47:33-04:00'
describe
'1527' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAJ' 'sip-files00173.txt'
830e453c5862e03d6231198621ee7743
81320656952b729f2c3e625196f4db01f8d1c71c
describe
'8520' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAK' 'sip-files00173thm.jpg'
dc9990cc1a36346fffc7e0e61926b890
d7760812a255d177848a1c4f61bbe97dd5f90e23
describe
'760382' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAL' 'sip-files00174.jp2'
8cda9e42721419e4ab5af14541131e43
6d144f7f21bfab2322b31e8850c595f327d0daf3
describe
'27833' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAM' 'sip-files00174.jpg'
c06cb279bdfc2e2ca5a1c144e12c91c9
7210bb2ba0d54318798d65dec6583c73f4af3e38
describe
'7689' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAN' 'sip-files00174.pro'
9ee47d009db447cb567e6803fd3e122b
92965c709ea6bbc7312550c6743fd50bf03456cb
describe
'9235' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAO' 'sip-files00174.QC.jpg'
33d8cef05d73ee36cc15d317f1aeaeb7
8ce438ce31d070df4344f7bcae9f4eb8e9082ce2
'2011-08-17T07:53:14-04:00'
describe
'8550517' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAP' 'sip-files00174.tif'
2a2bcefede66d3836d65a12ad670b1b5
46f4df30ebef60c7f86b1bd847119c677821e13b
describe
'328' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAQ' 'sip-files00174.txt'
8ca27de986db532d9c3a36979e5bcc88
78046105e8f6899bfe9b0f3c16914dd1d27f7eea
describe
'3029' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAR' 'sip-files00174thm.jpg'
4d0b5b18235b61bbab2929cae1a5e637
a819e39097b06bbfc5e43cd6f85e9758141573f9
describe
'1080299' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAS' 'sip-files00175.jp2'
e857e7ac413ccb956b449b71ceb6bc41
239c0d08c65e17e7636944b6098c7117afdbd125
describe
'74406' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAT' 'sip-files00175.jpg'
01cb72e65eb97164f0efe64762edc29e
e5324ab9956c594d5864490e136f8df07e7690b5
describe
'31494' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAU' 'sip-files00175.pro'
81ebde7938fb942d318a5dd2078040a4
8b41b930c12307f1e7458c2da8f9e7188cf9152c
describe
'27256' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAV' 'sip-files00175.QC.jpg'
7ff4deefc3a8f1c1e876bf8376130350
90b2ae428899710d7909d4dc969babfc57b2fbfe
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAW' 'sip-files00175.tif'
bee6e33abdf0da20c8193eb8e8555a7f
02fdfd83b2552bf39955c0aa12f71f3fbea1209f
describe
'1317' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAX' 'sip-files00175.txt'
97f909d3b3a5102367b8624b1ce08118
a118944717b809f2b77ffa8dff8028e664a5e70b
describe
'7355' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAY' 'sip-files00175thm.jpg'
072170568f3cbe0fef84e2eb1c15da96
49c6c367c0a16afc981c48d36b6a23c2432a9bbb
describe
'1067587' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMAZ' 'sip-files00176.jp2'
8dd3d285211717aaa639f3a698b70236
a2eaefc01ed8db05000d313783332716ad7601dc
describe
'97497' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBA' 'sip-files00176.jpg'
d92a151ef5adb6115ebcf62f6f1616ea
8b046e1ae6ff0284139168e8696c4c73e02d0f4f
describe
'42972' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBB' 'sip-files00176.pro'
3663cda9eb3b98d8c0794a6eb5dc5e0c
7a4fb0be405e088b49d047178accfcfef5d0f9cd
'2011-08-17T07:52:32-04:00'
describe
'35402' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBC' 'sip-files00176.QC.jpg'
92128085f014e208fd38200b8e1a3f72
5e173b4ce9ce1566ad8e4b8f097a8de25950b8ff
'2011-08-17T07:50:43-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBD' 'sip-files00176.tif'
3dec0dea45619fdf9e0e7e6e0bb185cb
cbe777248785f239ed1af301a00eb7d148ecd0ea
describe
'1775' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBE' 'sip-files00176.txt'
287a5eadc158add3245de5bd130ff760
41b569ac47d2317c111550c2e45390f5194260ed
describe
'10217' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBF' 'sip-files00176thm.jpg'
d829587ff3fa87921deca07433b2d3fd
60f58b171758258b5730dc48bf790dddbdbd3022
describe
'1103421' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBG' 'sip-files00177.jp2'
273a7656b333e322228365d676f29e5f
64f174671d526d9edad2cfc3b94a284d31b298d3
describe
'96385' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBH' 'sip-files00177.jpg'
d0d77faff70c5887b37b9282dc528dd1
bda2330736d73d97fba745792b04c29b7856d64e
describe
'42264' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBI' 'sip-files00177.pro'
87888e13c9d1d31d7ba3fbe8b26d3aa9
c2c329339d9f0ab23887745d1a68a9c7a7db21f0
describe
'35028' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBJ' 'sip-files00177.QC.jpg'
ddb94a4b29cd7db311a844244fffb73b
aa94dc0cf1c99a63211fa4171d3e38d65fff7e25
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBK' 'sip-files00177.tif'
81d73e87c024df60d4c801770c7a55b8
75f1f416aa0dda6a0a51dc40bc3b033ab45d1646
describe
'1743' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBL' 'sip-files00177.txt'
e7bc3d9367d92b187afb64d4c1890671
094197c6a6a3904784e50c0c365c6de02bf27750
describe
'9209' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBM' 'sip-files00177thm.jpg'
458f473d1b97eed764cba03d1b725313
071b3a654508006355671df412972cc148f4b13b
describe
'1067570' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBN' 'sip-files00178.jp2'
8d1b73549f2f70516c8295fc57263c4d
0fc9fd29981cc55ba07e0da7f16ba44533c2854b
describe
'92518' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBO' 'sip-files00178.jpg'
abcd8dd520677108c9d10a750496f38b
6a22d37cb12e94f609fdd4324adbf268f195b277
describe
'41008' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBP' 'sip-files00178.pro'
27b7800957f601739bc74bc2803f234c
943e88b5f71ac8a807270e27128a5223b696e049
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBQ' 'sip-files00178.QC.jpg'
ea87f7a1ea03ab4597cf9fd6f663fdcd
2a5176574500fc98bd606ac95bcc848325d6100e
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBR' 'sip-files00178.tif'
8e8620f679e9cecbe8158a96c6308bc2
40ed5eb537b0a2c2a73025daac509b432be355d7
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBS' 'sip-files00178.txt'
ad75e728f541cde0e17170476402628b
ebe2467a66b77b7c65794d7900a47c6b79724ffc
describe
'9732' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBT' 'sip-files00178thm.jpg'
6942d219ca66c6f3236474ac4d9883f7
48fdeda0135b2d262c7deae12dc598100db6c117
describe
'1103404' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBU' 'sip-files00179.jp2'
666c8298e6c6d8ef85deab1f5fd86505
ba258b15120271b0ae09f75adb3b691772fbf5a9
describe
'98572' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBV' 'sip-files00179.jpg'
7d63b4226a5bd376db02e5ba5632d859
6b2568be6af585c141cd0526225325539fd6a68b
describe
'43592' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBW' 'sip-files00179.pro'
7df8282da3eb9273875cd4c39084107b
8e145dfd8a06367f26240c740c9d5cae607e6165
describe
'35989' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBX' 'sip-files00179.QC.jpg'
85490830b4d84296efd1adba058ece39
5ae2c5fd7b8cde2c052e829d5d5ddc5e0d816a4e
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBY' 'sip-files00179.tif'
f9cdc99ab6278ad953eea76a4624776e
653a7af811591f17ca795f3b627903479a33f86a
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMBZ' 'sip-files00179.txt'
77d42576d0922135e8d0894faf8b82df
8d06ac86b45a1336a28e201bb89c34daceff9ca8
describe
'9746' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCA' 'sip-files00179thm.jpg'
2c4fa253e9110977d67e3d1baec65395
2dfa8bc81d26abc2d1fb2343b12068d3066028a9
describe
'1067438' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCB' 'sip-files00180.jp2'
2c1ca3024b1f9b24ff2e5bf97dd6875f
0ad765a487c312f7aea213bc14dc70f582a7508f
describe
'96719' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCC' 'sip-files00180.jpg'
9e3caec64de925bb841b3c780d8d8eaf
536090744fe71feca9f5dc9526b2d36c74fa9653
describe
'41582' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCD' 'sip-files00180.pro'
eb6eeb390f88f388088ccf91615dc894
417361ee01bf6a9c295cc91d341bd1f850313bf3
describe
'35626' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCE' 'sip-files00180.QC.jpg'
4ff4a4e66d1d7582e5ffc4c42a019443
31b77721ca2f78cf64fec6ba3332ddd86b9395e6
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCF' 'sip-files00180.tif'
e7a81cc919cd93e76003c6917921f9d8
2cfab08d596b4007a32bcc244972118534f50143
describe
'1722' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCG' 'sip-files00180.txt'
f49b8eebc9cac8e72697ace55ad2322b
e52ed4b4944d57e06ec963455771a4567bf72bb9
describe
'10290' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCH' 'sip-files00180thm.jpg'
17a65a1836aa4b7d6c88ea5cbe1c2b31
75ccc7b70807b0593463542d81081153f22bae18
describe
'1103419' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCI' 'sip-files00181.jp2'
42956d42b30267cce3c1c3ce92c864d2
8183ae720a84ad90fd0ae994206f1c5fe59cd286
describe
'98001' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCJ' 'sip-files00181.jpg'
c0cb82af112e4a22dccb26440d93e8d5
34f3772a521c2f29df22d977567d0e5047a5796c
describe
'42920' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCK' 'sip-files00181.pro'
e1b6ebb372e9f0a97f4ef3291c0dd157
bfd3f1298c0da34c35e41e0c1e842117a96a3456
describe
'35348' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCL' 'sip-files00181.QC.jpg'
1d0cb4156b0e5621314dcc3c4069da2c
db81bc20948dc612422e190301a42503f3ddeeb4
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCM' 'sip-files00181.tif'
3cec24f99a65574495c1205a33db1abe
02fb452df9bd2239d22d2a992df9b81aaba5ed6a
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCN' 'sip-files00181.txt'
7f86747697af7f70829bd825f374a787
939d32fd94cf03cdc6c49fe1a2072a957fd75475
describe
'9222' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCO' 'sip-files00181thm.jpg'
3915bf648d9c4e69d91b5bb5a68f15fb
38d809876091740efa59ea8a3df1698b0a818170
describe
'1067601' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCP' 'sip-files00182.jp2'
964d2c391309031360d2fb88869cc972
da43dc359c0a0f8d494865192be5431741be5f25
describe
'93823' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCQ' 'sip-files00182.jpg'
9c2d41cdb86f56b31bbc7eac9e40a21e
7b6e0395058adce2421b64f12da1cfa023fadf4d
describe
'40636' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCR' 'sip-files00182.pro'
63bb963fe24586dbd2131c25eec2488e
2d9fc9b05b20b74a50d5c6ce6e594f8a102423e3
'2011-08-17T07:43:48-04:00'
describe
'34143' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCS' 'sip-files00182.QC.jpg'
a5abe1a213bcb20ac53f22d3b44b678f
a535b8a1cc1848e601822f7b748dcabe77678607
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCT' 'sip-files00182.tif'
50e1f3c1369c518598ed8d75964d4998
2c25e169ac1725a7f4b64c56e74fd2750149ab62
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCU' 'sip-files00182.txt'
2cc83f2384b75f36273cc80663d104f8
ce6ff9926b27e970c447d48d8691c29f5dd1761a
describe
'9714' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCV' 'sip-files00182thm.jpg'
4aa7affaf87b8ac95aa6c1bc8f7b9181
c6474fcbd5eeafe86acf6598e730f79ceb796b2e
describe
'868327' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCW' 'sip-files00183.jp2'
d58f7762eceb4d58a9df976a9310e486
da04d4a32d2d381dd422ffe95a76b3d93dc93bf8
'2011-08-17T07:46:22-04:00'
describe
'47882' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCX' 'sip-files00183.jpg'
be5cbe900ba7961196d5c8bc7cde3283
b537dc32c09980444a5038dff9c3ac415ce15702
describe
'17855' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCY' 'sip-files00183.pro'
a9373c7c1fb88aa3252c10cdd21c1d5e
1cba8e5b793a25bcfca9dd7ebcb15b65c695e17b
describe
'17248' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMCZ' 'sip-files00183.QC.jpg'
5a70ae166fce9a7ac3620dbc378441c9
a45806d526abff7f18166c765aa35e87bac9fd10
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDA' 'sip-files00183.tif'
8b65f0d550b2c5544f4b37ca4fde85d1
69128e4154fe624671341bdc37f7cd2b0b7eb20c
describe
'739' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDB' 'sip-files00183.txt'
763d8b6fd42bbb12adf00a6a8c7584ae
8575d30f0ab375c07018abde705ddbfb3d8493c0
describe
'4923' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDC' 'sip-files00183thm.jpg'
aee9956dcdf517d2981bd875dac7e5e3
d6972f3b43ecb530b2f547b3b629c9857dfc79f0
describe
'1067562' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDD' 'sip-files00184.jp2'
5c24b06cdcbaf82469d4e93595f4e3cc
ff9628c324e9b8fe5da323f4df1458bf66f2eff1
describe
'80712' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDE' 'sip-files00184.jpg'
eebcb507c3b20938df4b4fe2b03ee950
d31fe507a57e5bc2bc99c08c8154066ecb8c2438
describe
'34730' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDF' 'sip-files00184.pro'
28c490e82398c2a2c9768643351d3019
5cc11a097f5efeec62ae3e66bdf6c7e4b583d785
describe
'29052' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDG' 'sip-files00184.QC.jpg'
c38bb5755e61f5f7b3f768d0a3d42385
f78b847a9c669394ab96656a835fb3350298ba63
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDH' 'sip-files00184.tif'
b919c30591302ac92e55e3fcf86eed71
dea02c38d1950ed3956309e88e7151cf56c54eee
describe
'1462' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDI' 'sip-files00184.txt'
79a59e867520be05873c410372c8166c
b3f12bf5c66d4ae15b463bcc5917f9ea670667c6
describe
'8269' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDJ' 'sip-files00184thm.jpg'
76d64abbad72d0709a5990dc3ffe9e33
ee1e8d3aad3a838541423dbc126c03e4f62d3100
describe
'1103378' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDK' 'sip-files00185.jp2'
6149e68e593e65c0e5d18eedc17dd123
17d4697eb100beb3a491430c977c2dcb12066f22
describe
'97816' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDL' 'sip-files00185.jpg'
d5c624b23277f3c5026f5924d8409846
0c88ba2440774d8b2e1c252e2c775d83686fdcc4
describe
'44077' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDM' 'sip-files00185.pro'
a34891e924dbe6e0d35f85cea2f08c97
09a239c877c565466b1fcbace090e55464844b73
describe
'36104' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDN' 'sip-files00185.QC.jpg'
7708806b278506ee1c8459d564978568
051e8d43e90020fa2b99a85ca104a0e3d530787d
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDO' 'sip-files00185.tif'
e9eb5178a3c7f61d08dad75c303a3d57
36269b301384c04ff7df8be07f2ee32f98a7c9c6
describe
'1800' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDP' 'sip-files00185.txt'
542d75a6b9f9e591ac6a49c79c14e1d1
31aecb3e4afc7596c12cfaae19b2655d70bbdd2f
describe
'9350' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDQ' 'sip-files00185thm.jpg'
5ccac9861e51352a56be7679347323c4
cf04cf1a8cbdbf6d2ac69e2d245b7514144eb5af
'2011-08-17T07:42:55-04:00'
describe
'1067581' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDR' 'sip-files00186.jp2'
73b2c7a06153363cd44aec24bf397ad7
739dc4fb81213cc7d7d7140190b9a1a2813ced52
describe
'74580' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDS' 'sip-files00186.jpg'
2a92b618fc342ecd66d55f9c7857c5b8
7712554ab4050553a9650a76c2a1dcd2959adf6d
describe
'31765' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDT' 'sip-files00186.pro'
7ee71a9a126b69db44abcd6901b722c0
3cd12ec67c61fa62e936c3660e901c867c74b7d7
describe
'26534' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDU' 'sip-files00186.QC.jpg'
7abc273da53e23882850b5956b5c0b0e
6e02b3df80b13d16b7d6200a09a4cd0686faf810
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDV' 'sip-files00186.tif'
909fc71b8bf089eab159e1c57fc21bd1
9056517a323b4dbca87d47431086cbb7ec906bd3
describe
'1357' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDW' 'sip-files00186.txt'
882ccd6f6b954956c141d34f6f1e537a
e1c6cb502ba641f4822a909b71eac27028ae64b3
'2011-08-17T07:44:59-04:00'
describe
'7859' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDX' 'sip-files00186thm.jpg'
40178f67b224c569056af80a52be78c8
3f165c82f67daeca0466c290f68de444d7b3a09c
describe
'1103417' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDY' 'sip-files00187.jp2'
133ab1c803743544e93e85b1d09f1d86
35e21b235afa7fb968bb77a80c1ae2e2f16ff5c1
describe
'101102' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMDZ' 'sip-files00187.jpg'
b074f48c028a2f6b6444e915b2665b8b
5e596f16b43663976c64838268fa9eabf2c94f44
describe
'45596' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEA' 'sip-files00187.pro'
10dd685f818910490bf774a7f59a52d2
71dc88d5e7d3510461b04191ec7fdead6e1e81b3
describe
'36757' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEB' 'sip-files00187.QC.jpg'
1d73feab989a2ad88b04ba796b12ad3a
d598975948172bb5670e916316f3974221090996
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEC' 'sip-files00187.tif'
0f260d1541cfe62a10bb801076bdb41f
cd200f54500174b2e347e80dcb6e51b02b5b57cc
'2011-08-17T07:45:08-04:00'
describe
'1861' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMED' 'sip-files00187.txt'
b6b1340cacdf3a000f30b468a0c7f3f5
afbb9b5de186171776174dcdeb8f620ad981642a
describe
'9831' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEE' 'sip-files00187thm.jpg'
59ae152145bbb7d13d91b2c6eaa664d0
a195323d834d9f7696c14bc06f53f6c1a9ece2d5
describe
'1067497' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEF' 'sip-files00188.jp2'
742f1fab53029d04a74bc024578589da
c781dcfecfb9afbd2166cd1d4ea6ba145dd8ba4a
'2011-08-17T07:44:50-04:00'
describe
'98247' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEG' 'sip-files00188.jpg'
a8362f315b54f779cd9ac2d716ac1a0f
99385582a3b41e98d59d426e9028d8a05c54faa1
describe
'43488' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEH' 'sip-files00188.pro'
c365c326b65e933bf4d41bc7785859d7
73132cea01a80594cecfb92f76bc419f8c9b1585
'2011-08-17T07:46:16-04:00'
describe
'35845' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEI' 'sip-files00188.QC.jpg'
eac3fba53bcf099989d830b55ec2e1f7
8f11808d53ce5f2dfce5a5fd2b6afec2bad21cf9
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEJ' 'sip-files00188.tif'
41abad655f285f7c522eae166926a8fa
1ddcbefbe11ee665575b4f2e520bd9d84781e22f
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEK' 'sip-files00188.txt'
e44da22b1c069158a24be3dac5bb86da
312f6d0dfe7dc27ba2d33d26954864debc2fc3d9
'2011-08-17T07:52:38-04:00'
describe
'9953' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEL' 'sip-files00188thm.jpg'
1cca951d80bf04ffd78e8dd995ac171f
c3150b6789d58f4cc9248f56b053e10bcc038171
describe
'857008' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEM' 'sip-files00189.jp2'
9fb070a194eb4bbeb0e41c837d3c049e
25ae280dc0cf63d120aa5fcd55fa84ba50af3545
describe
'47714' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEN' 'sip-files00189.jpg'
651949a11caf609e0f3d5bb5df25880c
d9c592f03f471b699494c5c2d4ef6b3db94adecf
describe
'18684' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEO' 'sip-files00189.pro'
bdd6e975a7eb6e3f449264321b6d6b21
740c2c13bcc780d3d9f414a5f2eaae21a78f11b9
describe
'17131' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEP' 'sip-files00189.QC.jpg'
3f396ae8e2a9988f3363c0b6b75bd9dd
4411370ddb570c524041607d6f1352ff5f5ce846
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEQ' 'sip-files00189.tif'
e23c246704050db3ff28e7f3bc8493f2
06e037c32db4b77e9107c33ae26073a8de292047
'2011-08-17T07:45:14-04:00'
describe
'774' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMER' 'sip-files00189.txt'
93bb19f21447199dc3996722a98ceb2b
a30fc0e9e10a6c1e95bce7ba4dc9ac1cd212dced
describe
'4708' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMES' 'sip-files00189thm.jpg'
fa2a7e44669be6918f19a203c66a4b09
b64b1abda0785052afe1268e6bb3bfee5efb5041
describe
'1067563' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMET' 'sip-files00190.jp2'
ba5bb5a2bc00c616b0df369a7b0bb6c5
1b148b831a5cae915e5ef8ab0ae6f9cf8c1e583d
describe
'78205' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEU' 'sip-files00190.jpg'
90a434309e4b49e706a7ca6b0ee7a369
211ad8ec599ed8d462e6aa189aeaa41463aa2e2d
'2011-08-17T07:47:53-04:00'
describe
'32059' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEV' 'sip-files00190.pro'
298832290926c2da689f636ebd2b1413
9622684d9c4f0aed0cf910b81ee38701cddd97b0
describe
'28256' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEW' 'sip-files00190.QC.jpg'
0a65376a8d95846a12c3d259a8c24fc7
497e06408edfa20d415319e57891d6deb716f217
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEX' 'sip-files00190.tif'
a0d0a8878638c21c07db9dec2c197219
711bf01e87331870bdd7625803ba18d17e4dbbbc
describe
'1398' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEY' 'sip-files00190.txt'
b74909aedd9f6694cf9ca10430affeb5
f11e1fac588b406ef41f483ed268fef515ee83b7
describe
'8131' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMEZ' 'sip-files00190thm.jpg'
5e880768c0064c61232efe862f2f7695
17dc8d30f4552504ca409da36ade0f73b71a968c
'2011-08-17T07:49:57-04:00'
describe
'1103400' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFA' 'sip-files00191.jp2'
aae55522861712b125d8be484b9b93de
6d3c6612dc6636e0612430a1de768cca29ef35bc
'2011-08-17T07:44:42-04:00'
describe
'101440' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFB' 'sip-files00191.jpg'
f41f94df5bd55a7208d0df28a379333f
01218f239b3c6abbb598c9aa48d0461add3fac82
describe
'44092' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFC' 'sip-files00191.pro'
cbad3c458045464fcf0ec387de13fb3c
6b617c1f56b5667ac05c5f1ec13a9d57b32f3087
describe
'37305' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFD' 'sip-files00191.QC.jpg'
7d4e74512f33003d7cc6020517210786
85e9609d017b2d29f47c31d77301d18f929b0e79
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFE' 'sip-files00191.tif'
527f1b6ed0d7422243de87fd04519eba
ec19d9e9bfbaf244f125642240d53ffa1771d2eb
'2011-08-17T07:46:21-04:00'
describe
'1821' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFF' 'sip-files00191.txt'
f29635354076b724616a6c1f422b7ded
d15d943a29f50c4f13fa84b35fa82b09043201af
describe
'9928' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFG' 'sip-files00191thm.jpg'
8d371ecf7bb77ddb220141547ba43e68
d39419e1e446c5fbc29bd680067692d173e32ed2
describe
'1067578' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFH' 'sip-files00192.jp2'
cf16ea86544575280231a2f52dfaa822
624bb76d2b3d98248831038fb639d44eebec8899
describe
'97797' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFI' 'sip-files00192.jpg'
af6615a5efa91c684defaa5a831a90ca
f739ab567d8ec811ebf0929bf4bfaf193b4bcc32
describe
'42531' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFJ' 'sip-files00192.pro'
413ab645198f825239b550186af96871
f0ef742c38d9ffe0d4c6d89ed2e9b66b35e97cad
describe
'36363' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFK' 'sip-files00192.QC.jpg'
d057fa8295da06f330a81f9afe0dae1f
7a4e844fe7575fd9f1821a4d0ed1a63018dab2b9
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFL' 'sip-files00192.tif'
14176374964cc54d7e6d5cc88a1543ae
40f8f8cd1964b202f7313cbf50e5ecb4363ad6dd
'2011-08-17T07:49:17-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFM' 'sip-files00192.txt'
3a9c4827dcdfee59c4aef3ca3801edd0
9fe9e952b15f0204047f057999d3973c44bbf5f2
describe
'10319' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFN' 'sip-files00192thm.jpg'
d7d41584c2f96ce5d30486116c1f6ff1
f4d6a061adb2965ef1c9c89e756051943eae09e4
'2011-08-17T07:47:13-04:00'
describe
'975171' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFO' 'sip-files00193.jp2'
65908b36a785334698379913cbee31fd
76bbfbc0fe77d1888f0db30795d0ec482c6eeb87
describe
'63696' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFP' 'sip-files00193.jpg'
25231e9094200058334ea60b56117308
1a0a4750808a6c30c6af4074a55cf420d9541522
describe
'25361' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFQ' 'sip-files00193.pro'
5f9b969bc3b3350adec2233a7ba69cbc
facfa2063df874610cc5383cf7cf616376ebc704
describe
'23061' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFR' 'sip-files00193.QC.jpg'
fd42c985ea6dfa525a66618c2a1e9c47
cfc528d277ddf29f98228039b6d29c65423b217d
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFS' 'sip-files00193.tif'
053adaeafacf28e0a2afd7fed62ceb97
f8e46ab91a69909bbaa85fa16cae049ca16b9dc3
'2011-08-17T07:44:09-04:00'
describe
'1047' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFT' 'sip-files00193.txt'
daee81d33e54090e639bfec666f0bc74
5aea9a3771e340807d70a32bb57f068c9a4b9bdb
describe
'6418' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFU' 'sip-files00193thm.jpg'
bac9f97d45fe0672dfab94c758e9fb69
e526c7c06eea4587892d36fb3b350ca9229965a5
describe
'1067548' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFV' 'sip-files00194.jp2'
7ac771a8aea7dbb9cc02b4e8a06b7a22
7f0a90a811a666c41b26d9bf768c48f8a4c50cc2
describe
'73675' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFW' 'sip-files00194.jpg'
f36a9d7b8a67fa3d3b071ae990fcb4a5
adf3d4179428bd2d9647b1bee3e7a03da6f70e73
describe
'30543' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFX' 'sip-files00194.pro'
7530b0f3a1592294c7865302e59858bb
321855ba4b6093dbb1680cadebcca9f3db4de838
describe
'27172' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFY' 'sip-files00194.QC.jpg'
d7cabefaf864079b503af349a846d428
290deb1fdaebc5e1b7888ded3f8aa70d0eb7f22e
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMFZ' 'sip-files00194.tif'
bbe2b1b8008f3f201cd48e6544d3e14d
56a7ec78db239e70ab15b3641ea243bb0b7edfb0
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGA' 'sip-files00194.txt'
2f9bb160ae7d0f34c49296fb52349b25
0d2a2bf20c005071e61ccc4dda7ebe4eb2fdd43c
describe
'7902' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGB' 'sip-files00194thm.jpg'
d7e167a0575dda4dc9feb3be0b35f0a9
580497f3abf56d712448f4852852ac2bf27bec19
'2011-08-17T07:47:54-04:00'
describe
'1103418' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGC' 'sip-files00195.jp2'
199c3b99fc5d5eb84ebbd6a0b4587dbd
2e8ea1ada236dd4f7e78df2709ea0478baeaf7f9
describe
'76061' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGD' 'sip-files00195.jpg'
3a0f070b662edbb977a0d70d5877dab0
b7acd8ed76c172f05b9d9504670a9eb0221c4875
describe
'30645' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGE' 'sip-files00195.pro'
a74be699eb68612d014822ee1990795c
42b6f725cd953356268cafeade970880f6549227
describe
'27869' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGF' 'sip-files00195.QC.jpg'
7650f431cb02c7c673f701eb8d6245a2
1e4f47ad4d9aaa434100256eb440b05965f6a7ea
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGG' 'sip-files00195.tif'
63a994db706dc37771b7e370773fd155
48519311569a8ed8cfda03dcfe5b4bea7d99c87a
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGH' 'sip-files00195.txt'
06cee87539c8c4b12fe58de8a0585049
9a5fb940e81476766116af08e6949ab42a8b9646
'2011-08-17T07:44:12-04:00'
describe
'7779' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGI' 'sip-files00195thm.jpg'
50aa3b3026251a09cc652860ce498fce
9a3e8809a39492ac37a9ba4f949627cf9acb98b5
describe
'1067592' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGJ' 'sip-files00196.jp2'
103039f7916c5db70f616f0ca80727ba
47e2e781ae6fac75afccd5c239b6c07103457e21
'2011-08-17T07:49:18-04:00'
describe
'75244' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGK' 'sip-files00196.jpg'
182b638cbc3b952b831c67e3ab50c043
85583815d84a1ec5aa12699512c3034ee6eca8a3
describe
'30483' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGL' 'sip-files00196.pro'
5a845e32f2fc18fbbbdef9b42f66c455
1344908a32b076d074e2ec06af27abb5a5013f40
'2011-08-17T07:46:25-04:00'
describe
'27624' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGM' 'sip-files00196.QC.jpg'
2627b047b5d2303885ddb2c496fa54e4
2f6f561ac0e7ebdefab7c0dc975aaf00574fd394
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGN' 'sip-files00196.tif'
0f82997edc1e62b3f7e2a1921fe783f5
f35458cf17990b24311d0da37db31cf547703897
'2011-08-17T07:47:39-04:00'
describe
'1292' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGO' 'sip-files00196.txt'
235c6cdd19379b84cb01c9ef6f655200
9ba3e731ae502200b55b012e08c31ea9eb1887a7
describe
'8293' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGP' 'sip-files00196thm.jpg'
29db232c48ac4ce56efb98335378545a
f1fd83be2c9e6e8a3f468fc565aa9ffe3c701a8a
describe
'1103399' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGQ' 'sip-files00197.jp2'
93774c04112325dc50b100e3896b3bbd
c305f6d7c02eb16c46d920c2aab08288b2e9bd04
describe
'103509' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGR' 'sip-files00197.jpg'
0b12f8ca07d6406efea012b29bb07ad9
6ace5343c00d8672d723752b45b8c2f59a6dd22a
describe
'43451' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGS' 'sip-files00197.pro'
16135deb075b75c9d63ee75f4b7f1f37
7aacaae35ca5ed0164c21e5fe4183bc1cdd61ea5
describe
'37873' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGT' 'sip-files00197.QC.jpg'
b78f87c3c688f6aa2543c756d02cb834
ad9d6b3976e58a615afba66fefce3d54c4021805
'2011-08-17T07:46:57-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGU' 'sip-files00197.tif'
b2ca8f16a0d9fa9d7beb300661e2d9b5
f2dbf77455fd2c3447b15d08201939f56955395a
describe
'1774' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGV' 'sip-files00197.txt'
742edc72e6c967748ce6ed77db3e4c90
2f327ef36b06d6c9c29dba50723195137f3f6aee
'2011-08-17T07:44:40-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGW' 'sip-files00197thm.jpg'
aa1038d47b4055eb2c2f1b4f1f370e1e
e51cb3ff31b9bf6dfe1b645a6a0501168cc1db93
describe
'1067567' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGX' 'sip-files00198.jp2'
2d0ad9ced32ee3bc302f6687da3796b6
e75d44e3010988eded8be9dfc0151323908c911b
describe
'101075' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGY' 'sip-files00198.jpg'
e5080c220944b6b67f5eb665e84c22e2
6d17fdc2a2230cd96e23c1b373e171e38f1f605b
describe
'42693' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMGZ' 'sip-files00198.pro'
20f41ec3d8bccbb46df2215bd563b5ba
9d67eea26ac20c9afd22ee082ba5e1a8056cded2
describe
'36762' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHA' 'sip-files00198.QC.jpg'
e3734cf93efb9dc20c1f3de278e0d8de
00a91b8da846ad7076627c45dc3c1d0c8ab12e90
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHB' 'sip-files00198.tif'
7133348d83457a90979c48cbd0d8f5ea
a5d7a40410344abc0d24491cbea9edbf5cf7a5e4
describe
'1764' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHC' 'sip-files00198.txt'
e36c208b96592256049df18482e743a9
41eb90d686dc8f4926041274f1132b8f86fabc9f
describe
'10344' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHD' 'sip-files00198thm.jpg'
46c4b6f4f7934d0d691645e916ebd8db
0219f81985768d614751a2a0fcaa4468673c979f
describe
'880763' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHE' 'sip-files00199.jp2'
6adf25705f3043ce8545c6a84bf2246e
eecb936569b1e9cfdfb64b8d5114c4e083c89d59
describe
'53295' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHF' 'sip-files00199.jpg'
15fabd3540b72b1295caaf71f2445d90
514f7a074e5fea18b0b50152cbaf27f02407dad6
describe
'20210' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHG' 'sip-files00199.pro'
0c6d93efb9c02ddd8feb1c3f590efd60
b6de2ab0803b17de62d42efe6a60d8836d6e4f25
'2011-08-17T07:46:50-04:00'
describe
'18727' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHH' 'sip-files00199.QC.jpg'
333dfc35d980666177b6834eea93d3b9
58028c4ecde1041ce6616731509dad7dcbf8084d
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHI' 'sip-files00199.tif'
736153f9f43c3974e4744ef23c8adcf0
9c420c0d00fde202963423d2acced61b71ee78e1
'2011-08-17T07:47:30-04:00'
describe
'845' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHJ' 'sip-files00199.txt'
c5d90b15a02f308b00457ac9c4224411
97299474f9ca42a2b6aa6ac110fa89c84fb1adc7
describe
'5750' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHK' 'sip-files00199thm.jpg'
92f04e9e2d70252147a9873260e03f2f
16ccee0107def5e141538adfd8e8b51dd0515a9a
describe
'880643' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHL' 'sip-files00200.jp2'
5813291de89d26fdf93e001857178067
f9a8e589ce80714b959b0dd02c3ffa2479d460a4
describe
'50258' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHM' 'sip-files00200.jpg'
a4049bf4aae59bbbe3409bd976d9a021
9c6a1b52cbf70012e4dda1288a9245632fc8971a
describe
'19202' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHN' 'sip-files00200.pro'
7a80e8d80f4597d0acdb3a2f0dc17ace
29f4f00ae4d05e7c007942baa856016862c71cce
describe
'18158' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHO' 'sip-files00200.QC.jpg'
554212096251c739badec5a1cfbb85a5
0709b3899b245296185cc9f025cac9093a70c007
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHP' 'sip-files00200.tif'
5d01211040ae712c94e0c38c99e0bad7
8a2e6b696a61fb838b05efd9d7c074144a5640fa
describe
'838' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHQ' 'sip-files00200.txt'
7ab1f11632eb274d4e68fcd68d7e44b3
e46fb018d97393a943bf04e1e227a562261244fb
'2011-08-17T07:43:26-04:00'
describe
'5477' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHR' 'sip-files00200thm.jpg'
2ee51dea121edcbf1e9e95e127526a3e
51b85db27e6829be86228c257032916b53ae53a0
describe
'958814' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHS' 'sip-files00201.jp2'
3683c4e66fc1bb8f01cfe4000736783a
1a8d2f8127c8403f441714a8ed12a1b6734c2796
describe
'62053' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHT' 'sip-files00201.jpg'
c6f1f45227ce1ae404c4da6839279af4
17c79b02d43ea48091111ca3cd662c71f3c4a0f7
describe
'24804' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHU' 'sip-files00201.pro'
142b052f482228eb3269d863499b1256
e9695c2889c265d63e042316fedee844987f55c8
describe
'22241' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHV' 'sip-files00201.QC.jpg'
224d816f8b1955498f829e26cab071fe
805d835a7b239edd5a2bdc04f925a50b06f58f54
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHW' 'sip-files00201.tif'
784996faaf3b2437719ae212824ebfee
b5b5444418a84b246750bd54f7e93f646cc4bdab
describe
'1069' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHX' 'sip-files00201.txt'
6d187f0dd688eb1b9986c678622e176c
0a4031d6d5207da0e725d7253fc4d1f67d3e970a
describe
'6614' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHY' 'sip-files00201thm.jpg'
557637879eb23e6f3fc7d3a87e36abd9
96f9962bc3f87e7a9b3d8e9942e806c20dfb937c
describe
'806587' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMHZ' 'sip-files00202.jp2'
9d6cc49e8ef70db9dd1c4f4e1e152055
4bbead1ddb5372e07a3506c6001e33058f3ffd79
describe
'37946' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIA' 'sip-files00202.jpg'
fdf2c5b6434f966b37bb8b32bdbc7d3e
547dece6bfec531e029afd6259c01e77bec5f3e0
describe
'13153' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIB' 'sip-files00202.pro'
a4fe35c8db8c7c7f21b21d3db3271519
323912c832dc73cdc71021b44eeb7791c549ec86
describe
'13564' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIC' 'sip-files00202.QC.jpg'
7dcbccb0375f9a5fb2cc36fb6cefb9d3
918638c7a31ba82fe71a5459eb87987adf94968f
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMID' 'sip-files00202.tif'
7f1c52476f7089081a7406e933d8d847
ebb62355eb83d6700f86230223829f3f8c8e9bb6
describe
'578' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIE' 'sip-files00202.txt'
7f1f5b022ab9778d56de4826b290f7f0
aa971ad4d3bfd064eebbecb5515423c77af69eec
describe
'4100' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIF' 'sip-files00202thm.jpg'
54c2094e4efd6904ff641362503ced97
f2da345120cc524c83023c7f01aff0501bc2ad98
describe
'1103422' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIG' 'sip-files00203.jp2'
2b66fbd1a6dad65fa3f0d0738cde9c67
3646c1364a17457b92b894ca09e118d7f62ed061
describe
'80971' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIH' 'sip-files00203.jpg'
782a79fa17b7c955ba05b3f6080da27f
a4d43dda15208274c032a897ed4b1e93a681c592
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMII' 'sip-files00203.pro'
485ed8b7576faee6983afc7350d8e9af
4bb428e660128fbb33176de5726ddbb850085d22
describe
'29906' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIJ' 'sip-files00203.QC.jpg'
62c55a44fbad1131471149eeb3a97682
0d8813bc42393d5673d89e3ed30b0f6281c8e8ee
'2011-08-17T07:45:17-04:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIK' 'sip-files00203.tif'
052e32c06183fe1a750ae84a34306640
808ee5741135fbeee96a95cdfefc759225c15da8
describe
'1399' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIL' 'sip-files00203.txt'
16bf251edd1c94778743fbf77774d1f3
3ae7928bf897ea24b67c2d086856f61a8d5335c1
describe
'8024' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIM' 'sip-files00203thm.jpg'
2b0bd33a77b0abce6cd265110a2e7412
044ebef7b56a44b2034bf745777611e2ca484738
describe
'1067599' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIN' 'sip-files00204.jp2'
1a03bfc7f52ce7cea9adba652e463929
32e53dd9f2b140c0d60db69a3188d75b1b96c787
describe
'101993' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIO' 'sip-files00204.jpg'
406952643ca8e615b298d3acc6a8a632
801b2252c9e6c075229e94c9fbef14e8c11141b7
describe
'43273' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIP' 'sip-files00204.pro'
a98ca2ddebdc1e9e09797c11cb5d74ca
bbdd708ccbe3153f569a7713ff98d44615e2f293
describe
'37243' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIQ' 'sip-files00204.QC.jpg'
ad78ef1a79d90705b976070978ab86ba
7834464b6b2d5e609a05d1fbb893d64690e2a284
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIR' 'sip-files00204.tif'
ac9d5fe5ef23d31dcf9ac44008d2f334
14a25370d12a878de151068c2cf8117227528480
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIS' 'sip-files00204.txt'
df7c2f98bc38cf5f6a6b0862de69d217
4ac04cfa8644b35e55f9c2895e531fd3740b3a44
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIT' 'sip-files00204thm.jpg'
eee02fd54325d4e889a9ac7c6192a989
eeb0f2ae1ed7626471d6c35e3db9f82c825051ab
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIU' 'sip-files00205.jp2'
602fd749d0a9cf250522a63b9d3b479c
901a4af1791b36e474179afd17c19771903a9e87
describe
'100207' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIV' 'sip-files00205.jpg'
cb74aa1d3b2e593f5daa00c5283adcb1
12757bbb1a1a0635b0b10492d00e752dd15646fd
describe
'42070' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIW' 'sip-files00205.pro'
3f3cf4a12ab0c04a2ddbdd59f0870231
a1056ddd4c3b76609e61dfba8be42fd32ccc4140
'2011-08-17T07:45:38-04:00'
describe
'36754' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIX' 'sip-files00205.QC.jpg'
b9319316c989974a571a7ddc2e3cc809
f899f8efb12cb03bdf8d6c51049a2d501c8dc2a9
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIY' 'sip-files00205.tif'
6e0995d4b93d4d36382eab56d772f792
f997a5995b75d7149b5eec55a96c5ef02041f6e3
describe
'1729' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMIZ' 'sip-files00205.txt'
2b22a47f7ab93860d1c99d1bc6c67adf
5eead258379d39d7c7c5f5c3c830b6f2530878a0
describe
'10240' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJA' 'sip-files00205thm.jpg'
6d72153be3ceb3c91097114db047d625
1bf8cb572cf14e46e5fa1841bcaead2ccb1cdeb4
describe
'1067556' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJB' 'sip-files00206.jp2'
5a8c1c45db77c26b00082eb0c03b0b67
cfd055873b89356e94fe58f3e0094ec81dec3d7d
describe
'101515' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJC' 'sip-files00206.jpg'
2576315c8d70513db2695af1b923635e
c66d50d6f3c19698c39374e3d2be3645667ef97e
describe
'43192' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJD' 'sip-files00206.pro'
edbb6bfa0cd8f810bc88e61d45e4a27a
7c2638c35704c9293955cbdb6062c06bef6dd880
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJE' 'sip-files00206.QC.jpg'
78e76bd92c6242db9c3fb90a9a2009a7
6ad8706ceee59170684d8562deef2aa4b92b2b20
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJF' 'sip-files00206.tif'
b02db14d57e4a3567ce11cacfb7b5b90
51fdcb1328a1f6dbfc8d1de93c48477761342768
describe
'1858' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJG' 'sip-files00206.txt'
b9a5d5125ff9e793003445fcd14ef1fe
60624e8cac08cc9a584001afbccc2a4c6673aa00
describe
'10641' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJH' 'sip-files00206thm.jpg'
649b1b831ed32d53762a7b274e3a8abe
50f32507789035f91b78f3215f2512b8c1684d44
describe
'1103383' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJI' 'sip-files00207.jp2'
4bb9c15791a717eb5276d55199865c0a
3152f9093dd90a8ba996044b84194ab5e009f455
describe
'102995' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJJ' 'sip-files00207.jpg'
362b2a8066a0271a941f5444898f5504
b6021a2b95188311446cd96701defcc166d811d0
describe
'44422' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJK' 'sip-files00207.pro'
f0f158fefca0030046277733093043dc
af27039442d05b9e0299ef2633d2de8d1b75e5c6
describe
'38080' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJL' 'sip-files00207.QC.jpg'
e3c300368157447be968e7e7e64f3f9f
8d95aafeaea0ddfa29fae60b53778c18e0f3af9e
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJM' 'sip-files00207.tif'
90046870d752b93fed088b18be220338
d492df2eb47b02b458ae14549f84e264be53768e
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJN' 'sip-files00207.txt'
141bda703c6b2faf5dd9310d10ec360a
6251f413559e7fb90b965ea87fd50cff736ba3e5
describe
'9936' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJO' 'sip-files00207thm.jpg'
17f2caec9e4e6333e3e5fa340e4fe476
b616d63d2d5f878fac92d4d6dea7c3f7d66130b2
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJP' 'sip-files00208.jp2'
9d23346f07620a79c3b1d4cda3db6c99
9ee2cd8c20e7cbe2b11a5b18713afa0627954983
describe
'101065' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJQ' 'sip-files00208.jpg'
332a66bff4b4ffa199d081f808d16544
d1417eb0120a683d04d6392f92c4b50f1e8ed33f
describe
'43501' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJR' 'sip-files00208.pro'
664e8d7dd8cb99815a16429cbb9e19c8
5fdb289a577d10c815d276743bd52e5a6209560b
describe
'36855' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJS' 'sip-files00208.QC.jpg'
aedd186a3b364c25fe56f67e8302615d
bfe2eb451b996d82dd25cff7a7e4efe105a55bec
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJT' 'sip-files00208.tif'
dd942cf4480857b4842ec8c64a180200
28cedc3b52408ce499a6cd648122762c84aa786e
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJU' 'sip-files00208.txt'
cfd8fe3b3855c207821ad1798fa8ec54
aa9cef62fd1b0b7d9d83c3045ecfc3d16661a9ec
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJV' 'sip-files00208thm.jpg'
014c57ce127468f1a7120c18b460ddac
f22935bcb01266d974e53bf46675d4a76a34fe01
describe
'1103346' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJW' 'sip-files00209.jp2'
4a6fee1e52fd60c5731b077d4671f5e1
7ecd77ee9add0c2c6b5db20fd7a4282ac2ffe880
describe
'83393' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJX' 'sip-files00209.jpg'
93142e2e6fafd3bdf615b3d15ebd17b0
e720f7537062944b2d62f0aa1c7667915b5c98c7
describe
'37231' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJY' 'sip-files00209.pro'
9ee5524bbe5b33830ea8aee937bcae4e
d286876982f8e09996b9826a3f265275489dcdde
describe
'29709' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMJZ' 'sip-files00209.QC.jpg'
f99e2de94606c9b7803ba9e87fbe8eee
32bcf80f8dd5c2ca809941b4f376d1a047841e66
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKA' 'sip-files00209.tif'
1d748be3aaa9fc18b1b8e810c5b28c0c
80f08565a93ca8c95f46dae06b85b4d7c435ed6a
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKB' 'sip-files00209.txt'
df3e46ea3ae2e0e23a0778136d3fb8e9
20484c0c03736b4d3811e9a3b440852cb98766ec
describe
'8237' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKC' 'sip-files00209thm.jpg'
6c9571079b2419ff816f26ef10701123
61674af347631cf6eda2d93694f49e12b17fb97a
describe
'1030767' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKD' 'sip-files00210.jp2'
0c284a64b092ad2a772ac48446d4b356
0b72474a441766130b8cb12854e66e5eae39a393
describe
'62911' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKE' 'sip-files00210.jpg'
f760f6d599884766f78d639db57d588a
2dd60611b316766e599118eb962a631f083ac296
describe
'30067' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKF' 'sip-files00210.pro'
b25dad8381a570225ac5d9af5cef52e4
dbbc2d59c4b8595118faad0e4bb8d46aad7ad9d5
describe
'21520' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKG' 'sip-files00210.QC.jpg'
71dab8348350d3b04e6da4c6973e3669
b18535cb9f25c4ec5e452389fdedddeb930a4755
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKH' 'sip-files00210.tif'
b3764aa7e2d650955d4315c967c9b3c9
89c8b484ed5825955750c7a8bf33a1a398b709d9
describe
'1350' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKI' 'sip-files00210.txt'
6952c8512d60198586e7afea96ed1ae5
2a95326de70351d6f8b0359426a25d36422fd653
describe
'6179' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKJ' 'sip-files00210thm.jpg'
6b1827cc2a4a021e282e5fffe7480179
e400e2261850533e10e1dc0dffaf2a2cd6d3fc2c
describe
'1103414' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKK' 'sip-files00211.jp2'
55d10039d2ee32d1a84b402b3a578e65
132c80a41a11062b6a0b6ba5a7291f6a555f5bdc
describe
'91086' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKL' 'sip-files00211.jpg'
33c28e390f20eceb2bae2662e238ffb8
48c7e167592f2a7d8a806d608f4c67b505a97082
describe
'39363' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKM' 'sip-files00211.pro'
b145858027016fed0cff25d452bbbd2f
8caab65d9c6335c982b5d93da2edb8d7df8602a1
describe
'33122' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKN' 'sip-files00211.QC.jpg'
6f6610be38434187e54ae0268ecc490c
0aa0528e079eece30020d17964b9208b2bfdffcc
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKO' 'sip-files00211.tif'
9e65362377c85c53181e8958195870fe
21946b934d6bb64b0ec50898bc823dd5db41ca66
describe
'1682' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKP' 'sip-files00211.txt'
bfe408b58120b086b3c747e239ee8de3
c4722b09d560a619ff6f18fb9c403289f41f76d3
describe
'9061' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKQ' 'sip-files00211thm.jpg'
ffa46b7391f8f0057292649fad9b0a20
5cfd353ca7df69317bf7cca9aaaeab86bd711131
describe
'1067552' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKR' 'sip-files00212.jp2'
0509fa457300f7ba77232423c8bfc1dc
e8e4b9e6602cc00352fafebf9cba4f17170a3168
describe
'91718' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKS' 'sip-files00212.jpg'
fc5993a480255b51e31af34f43b0479b
2cb55d81b1f29cc0125226f73caf3cc4a9e6d568
describe
'38791' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKT' 'sip-files00212.pro'
452448c5c75b571fb9a562ffdbd447a3
8bb79e532de9bb238f6cb2205be9819eead8aa28
describe
'33120' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKU' 'sip-files00212.QC.jpg'
7b42582b8cc88ea0369206ab611a998d
8e2d955f43093285999c2cadd20ae7b1e1522622
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKV' 'sip-files00212.tif'
34a191250a1417b7ded185598c10ec3d
4f7b99e817008bfc43592f41e314cf9824b3e42e
'2011-08-17T07:46:40-04:00'
describe
'1652' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKW' 'sip-files00212.txt'
d7f960f568c0d383ba9250c2511c8a29
a6e01089c74400298e38422e309855cdb6124332
describe
'9841' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKX' 'sip-files00212thm.jpg'
5a79d91555173bcca9d296dd7c07d395
1529326345c8f5fec7d4cd990a4de910ea32d2d7
describe
'947370' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKY' 'sip-files00213.jp2'
0c1bce88589acf02744a198aa68e3d3b
a261e8fe0aac999a93504a6d1e6d1aec74230e0a
describe
'56192' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMKZ' 'sip-files00213.jpg'
39b8aed2ecb4687e7ab4e307b6769618
4e8ea284f736597a5800bdc4a8b882bb67972bbb
'2011-08-17T07:53:27-04:00'
describe
'21374' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMLA' 'sip-files00213.pro'
5068451eb05dc84ea14c596d1ec16375
bb8a67abc82d3d5c202587f2f2cb5e67ea71fb7a
describe
'20324' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMLB' 'sip-files00213.QC.jpg'
d84ddfbe62a1dc3d78dbe7c826552483
6fe427aa74a85753bc63c2d7227909c34aec794b
describe
'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMLC' 'sip-files00213.tif'
67b21ac816260dc031a04f39244e218f
7498f256e2e34455211792871ee2fb4d8db4adf8
describe
'881' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMLD' 'sip-files00213.txt'
0afc107437e990628c9e312ce46f3d23
df1e981ff7cd3e7e7d9b25a7ed17773fbe0991d2
describe
'5562' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMLE' 'sip-files00213thm.jpg'
34837de90a3d1b9ee02f2ad98fcd65b7
e6f00991c92dfe902222a9019e75fe030df60753
describe
'1067550' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMLF' 'sip-files00214.jp2'
5befdc04dd79d45fe4e22487f96365c7
716b2beccb37378d89b791c0e6aacd77ec248a8d
describe
'81621' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMLG' 'sip-files00214.jpg'
34d5632b6ff6c3cd0896498c0aebe57c
430249c028577de5dd8e23aeb83c953e65c3b643
describe
'32711' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMLH' 'sip-files00214.pro'
821fe8e2e21b9e3228b92885ca153caf
6b11460336d9a28968d30d0e91615855b74cadb6
describe
'29697' 'info:fdaE20080805_AAAABCfileF20080806_AAAMLI' 'sip-files00214.QC.jpg'
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xml resolution






°

Cales for all Seasons.

_BY

FANNY FORESTER,

(MRS. E. C. JUDSON.)

All seasons have their voices; joyous then

When Spring is vocal with the amorous birds, |
And Summer too, when flowers are in the full;

When Autumn gives the treasures they had told;

While round the Winter’s hearth, the sum of all |
Fills the long evening with remembered joys.

; ‘>

LONDON:
THOMAS NELSON PATERNOSTER ROW;
AND EDINBURGH.



MDCCCLI,










soba
aogn
ie -


CONTENTS,

Willard Lawson—
Chap. I. Leaving Home,. . . .« . « oe “Se 1
— eee 8 OS ee ee es ae a eee ° 22
-« III, The Orator, © ee ee oe. ee oe
The French Emigrants, .. . . . . 2. A 38
See Ange Pigtmage, © ok pea we oe eee ae
Lilias Fane, OO! ee a ee a ek 74
The Unuseful, oS eRe ee oe ee Be a
nn oe a Ek ce a ee es: eS Ss ee ee
BorntowearaQoronet, . . . . , , ee ee eee a
NE hi i ee | a o> @ © esta
Two Nights in the “ Nieuw ee 6k fk SS Se ee eee
Lucy Dutton, . 8 eee ee ee ee ee a ee
Mystery, i OA a aes a ee ga
The Priest’s Soliloquy (an Extract), . . . (+ €. 2 =a cee
SE ee ig i ge “ee
My First Grief (an Extract), je Se a ee a ee ee
The Mignionette (a Fable), * ©. 6 6 €:* 6 & 4 ee
Ministering Angels, J en ee a a ee Pe
The Raina Thought-maker, . . . . , . ©¢ © » * ene
Genius, es ‘2.5 4. ce * e 217

TALES FOR ALL SEASONS.

BY

FANNY FORESTER,



WILLARD LAWSON.

CHAPTER I.—LEAVING HOME,

‘¢ You will be sorry for it, Willard.”

‘‘ Sorry! I tell you, Sophy, I have been in leading
strings long enough; and I will go where I can, now
and then, do as I choose!”

‘* You will be back in less than three days.

*‘ No, not in less than three years. Come, tell’ me
what I shall bring you from over the seas; they have all
sorts of gimcracks in the Indies, and maybe I shall go
to China, or—”

‘* Or take a peep into Symm’s hole, or a ride on the
roc’s back. Bring me a pair of slippers from Lilliput.”

‘I will bring you a pair so small that you cannot
wear them, if that is what you like; and a rare India
shawl, to beat cousin Meg’s.”
10 WILLARD LAWSON,

‘‘ T hope you will get your purse well replenished; I
daresay you will find them in N. "
? ”?

‘¢ Don’t speak so contemptuously of our mammoth
city, Will; there will be a little fading out of those hand-
some curls, I dare say, before you will see a larger.”

‘I tell you, Sophy, I am going to sea. What part
of the world I may visit, -I don’t know; but it will be
many a long year before you will see me again.”

‘© Nonsense, Will, think of scrambling up ropes and
perching in the air like a monkey! You have always
had a taste that way, I know, but try it in a gale, and



é6



you would soon come to the conclusion that you had a
little too much of it. Come, this freak of yours is all
nonsense; be obedient, and father will be kind to you,

9



but you know it was wrong for you to go

‘¢ T know it was not wrong, Sophy, and I am glad I
went. I should like to know what right anybody has to
hinder me from speaking to a school-fellow now and then,
or even from shaking my toe in a dance, if I choose.
Wondrous good some people are, indeed! I wish they
would tell me how much worse dancing is than anger ;
and did n’t you see how pale he turned? James turned
pale too, for I believe he thought I would get knocked

own. I almost wish he had done it.”

“¢ Willard !”

‘‘ He drives me to it, Sophy.”

‘‘ Tf you go away with these bad feelings, I am afraid
you never will come back again.”

‘© Maybe—but—-yes, I shall—of course I shall. I
WILLARD LAWSON. 11

shall want to see you, and—and all. Oh, I shall come
back sometime.”

‘¢ T am afraid not, Willard.”

The observation seemed to induce a new train of
thought, for the boy’s excited countenance assumed an
unusual soberness ; a tear crept to his eye and twinkled
on the upraised lash, but he brushed it hastily away, and
with a ‘‘ never fear for that, Sophy,” sprang to the door,
as though afraid to trust his voice with another word.
The sister waited awhile for his return, thinking that he
would at least bid her a good night ; but when she per-
ceived that he was not coming, she began to persuade
herself that he was ashamed of his folly, and would be in
better temper in the morning, or that her father would
abate some of his sternness; at any rate, somehow, the
difficulty would be settled, as others had been before ; and
so she went to sleep. ‘These troubles were nothing
new to her. Mr Lawson was a noble-minded, upright
man, who exercised a kind of patriarchal sway, not only
in his family, but over the whole neighbourhood. He
was a good father and a kind neighbour in the main, but
stern and self-willed; all suavity and gentleness when
obeyed, but woe to the luckless one who dared to oppose
his plans or wishes! To such, if the truth must be owned,
Mr Lawson was a tyrant. He had managed, how-
ever, without unpleasant bickerings, to bring up his fa-
mily in the strictest integrity; and they were now about
him, doing honour to his gray hairs. They had yielded
to him; he had led them wisely, and now they honoured
him with all their hearts, Sons and sons-in-law looked
up to him with reverence; all but a bold, daring boy,
12 | WILLARD LAWSON.

j

his youngest child, the handsomest and the bravest, but,
alas! so full of faults! Willard had ;talénts, but he did
not like the trouble of cultivating them; like many an-
other, he was so well satisfied with*hisnatural acuteness,
that he could see no necessity for bestowing labour oni
the mental soil. Mistaken Willard! - Mistaken thou-
sands! He was spirited as a young colt that spurns the
bit, and grew restive under his father’s control before he
had reached a dozen of summers. Now he had grown
into a tall stripling, and considered himself very nearly
a man, and was he to be led about likea baby? I think
—I do not know—but I really think that if Mr Law-
son had not been quite so authoritative and unbending,
his son Willard would have been more manageable ; but
yet I must admit that he never required anything of
him which was not right.. Then Willard was frank and
joyous, with a heart full of generous sentiments and brim-
ming over with sympathy and kindness; and it must be
owned that there was something which shut down over
his spirit like a lid whenever he entered his father’s house.
He had felt it when a little boy playing in the sunshine
on the lawn; and used to think, when called in at even-
ing, of the atmosphere of a damp, dark cellar in the
spring-time; but the uncomfortable feeling had increased

as he grew older, and now Willard Lawson did not love

his home. It was a rare good place for his intellect, but

there was no room there for his heart to expand. All

were kind—his sister Sophia especially so, but it was a

kindness which was always smooth, and even, and cold;

no bubbling, no sudden gushes, like the spring which

lures the travel-stained wanderer from the way-side, or

*

<
>.
im i,
“*

VILLARD LAWSON 18










; ,
y fountain leapingup at the kiss of the br and
@ glance of the oe ; but a quiet, calm, lifeless

sort, df kindness, that seemed to lack that universal in-
sp re fion—love. Sohe went away from home for society,
not, aways selecting the best, for how could the boy
know

“how to choose rightly? He found more sympathy
without doors than within; and so Willard Lawson,
7 young as he was, had set both feet resolutely in a most
. dangerous path, Beware, Willard! Nay, but he will
not beware; he has ‘been in leading strings long
enough,” and he has resolved on emancipation.

How much Willard Lawson slept that night I will not
attempt to say; how many misgivings visited his heart in
the lone darkness, or how much dearer his home became
as he thought upon the words of his sister,—“ If you
leave us with these bad feelings, I am afraid you never
will come back again.” The thoughts and emotions
were his own, his own to brood over, his own to bury ;
forget he probably never would. Morning dawned at
last, and by the first faint glimmer Willard rose and
dressed himself. He then walked about the little room,
as though taking a farewell of every article of furniture,
and looked from the window, and walked again, till a
tear, actually a big round tear, rolled from his eyes like
a red-hot bullet, and dropped upon his hand. He was
alone now, and so it was no shame to weep ; and Willard
did not even put a hand to his eyes while the liquid sor-
row rained down over his cheeks in torrents. Poor boy |
It is a pitiful thing to forsake the roof which sheltered

us in our helplessness ; where the only real love the wide,” 27.5
earth knows beamed on our infant eyes; where tender- @


14 WILLARD LAWSON,

ness and purity and truth bud and blossom in the sun-
shine of kindness and the dew of innocence; the dear
hallowed hearth-stone, circled round with sacred affections,
—pitiful to leave it, and for what? Thank God for the
gilded veil behind which the Protean future is allowed
to conceal her features! Who would look into the
book of fate and read at a glance his own destiny?
Willard Lawson had no very bright hopes this morn-
ing ; for the false star glittering but yesterday before his
eyes, had set in darkness, been extinguished in tears. He
had laughed and sported in that room ; he had slept there
while angels guarded him; he had lisped his first prayers
there, and there too had he almost forgotten the duty.
He was still but a boy, and yet he was very much changed ;
and he thought upon this change with sadness. What an
innocent little fellow he was when he went to sleep hug-
ging his first top to his bosom, and thinking what a dear
good papa his was to bring such an invaluable present
from the town! And how often, in his childish reverence,
had he thought of that same father, and wondered if his
heavenly Father could be any better or any wiser! And
how disobedient he had been of late, and self-willed, and
disrespectful; in actions rather than words, and in thoughts
more than either. Dost thou relent, Willard? Is there
“not a softening in thy heart? Are not thy lips moving to
the words, ‘‘ I will arise and go unto my father?” Ah!
stay thee, rash youth! Gently, gently! There is a balm
in penitential tears! I already see the rainbow arching
thy heart. It is a precious moment, Willard; beware!
Nay, all is lost! That movement below, followed by the
whistle of Bluff Bill, the man-of-all-work, has sent other
WILLARD LAWSON. 15

thoughts into the head of the stripling, and the scale is
turned. The tears are brushed away, and in quiet, but
hurriedly, the room is left without a tenant,

Willard stood in the yard, beneath the dear old trees
where he had sported in childhood. The large, long-
limbed butter-nut had never seemed so beautiful as now,
since the day when, an urchin in petticoats, he had
scrambled up its jagged trunk to get a peep into the
snug little home of Madam Redbreast, and came down
again amid huzzas and chidings ; and as for the elm trees,
he had pruned them himself many a time, and he had
watched them year after year, till he knew the position
of every graceful branch against the sky, as he knew the
places of the children at his father’s table. There was a
locust precisely his own age, and the circumstance had
been so often mentioned, that he felt as though somehow
that tree belonged to him—was linked to his life—was
a part of himself, which he ought to carry away, or rather
which he ought to stay and cherish. He cast a glance
around to see that no one was near; and then he threw
his arms about the dear old tree, and pressed his lips to
the rough, dew-spangled bark, as though it had been a
living object of love. ‘This done, he looked back upon
the house hurriedly, and passed on. In the stable stood
gay Larry, the fine young saddle-horse, which turned at
the sound of his voice, and laid his finely arched neck over
his shoulder, with all the affection of a child ; and he
patted the animal and passed his hand over his smooth
glossy skin, and then buried his face in the flowing mane
and wept unrestrainedly, Poor Willard! Larry was an
old playmate, and that Larry loved him wag clear, for to

ere ab
See Se
16 WILLARD LAWSON.

no other one was he so gentle and obedient. Oh, if
Larry could but go with him! Our hearts warm toward
thee, dear Willard, more than they did a half-hour since,

when the careless whistle of Bill awakened thee to all thy
stubbornness ; for there is that in thy spirit which the
angels know to be priceless. ‘Thou art even as mettle-
some as thy pet Larry; but thou art good and noble, too,
for thou lovest the poor dumb animals which look up to
thee for care and protection, even as thou shouldst look
to heaven. Mayst thou never lose the manly softness,
young Willard! The lad found as he passed on that he
had bestowed more love on Lawson farm than he had
imagined. ‘The cows—one in particular, which had al-

ways been called his—looked into his face with a kind of
pleading mournfulness—a sad, beseeching expression,
+hat seemed to him made up of love and censure; and
vaen they came lowing after him, as though they would
yet entreat his return, Even the fowls gathered about
his feet familiarly, and raised a chorus of sounds which it
was not difficult for him to interpret. ‘ Sir Chaunticlere”
shook his long parti-coloured plumes ominously, and sent
out a shrill, high-ringing warning; the hens, cackling,
flocked before him, like a swarm of butterflies in August ;
and a dove flew from its perch to his shoulder, and then
nestled in his bosom, looking up to him, with its warm,
melting eyes swimming in love as his were in tears. There
is yet time to retract, Willard. ‘Take back those dan-
gerous steps, and no one will know they have been
trodden. No, this is not among things possible to the
boy. The parting is taking the very life from the inner-
most core of his heart, tearing away the threads which
WILLARD LAWSON. 17

invisible fingers have been braiding within, ever since his
baby foot tottered on the threshold of being: but who
ever suspected Willard Lawson of wavering or fickleness ?
Why, we might as soon expect his father himself to change
his mind and reverse a decision! Willard, boy as he is,
will never hesitate and falter after he has resolved; but
it is no part of his philosophy to dispense with feeling.
Perhaps—I am not sure how strong the sense of right may
be in his bosom—but, perhaps, if he were thoroughly con-
vinced that he was taking a wrong step, one which he
would regret in all after life, he might yet be induced to
go back and nestle again, more lovingly than.ever, among
the dear old associations which are clustering around him,
striving to entangle for good his erring feet. But Willard
with his bold, free spirit swelling in his bosom, will never
stay with Larry and the other dumb things that love him,
at what his boyish inexperience deems a sacrifice of his
yet unbearded manliness.

Willard passed from the barn-yard without venturing
to look upon the garden patch, for he had had chiding
enough without listening to the gentle murmurs of the
green things that the morning breeze was dallying with ;
and leaping the stile, he took his way across a rich field
of clover, which the little spirits of the night and the
messenger sun-rays had decked out in matchless diadems.
Sometimes a little sheet of gossamer, fastened to shafts of
emerald, gleamed with all the colours of the rainbow, here
and there breaking from its fastenings, as highly gifted
spirits sometimes sink beneath the weight of their own
wealth. Spires of grass bent beneath clusters of the same
jewels; and the fragrant clover-heads and nodding but-

B
18 WILLARD LAWSON.

ter-cups flashed and sparkled like the coronct of a duch-
ess. Birds, sweet, glad little creatures, with wings and
voices but too familiar, carolled from the tree-tops, or
wheeled and careered in mid-air, mad with exultant hap
piness, (blessed spirits of the air!) and the bee, in his
glossy black coat, with more gold than even a gay cour-
tier of the olden time would have cared to deck his man
tue with, sped beneath the soft clouds like an arrow, and
plunged headlong among the luxuriant sweets of the fra-
grant clover blossoms. How all these glad things con-
trasted with the heavy spirit of the young wanderer! A
stream went dancing and bubbling by, right merrily ; and
close beside the rustic bridge was a deep place, where he
had.angled for trout for many a summer. Willard glanced
at itdnd seemed inclined to stop, then passed on—re-
turned again, and kneeling down, bent his head far over
and peered earnestly down into the water. A fin swept
by, with a thin layer of silver over it; and he caught a
glimpse of a mottled back, crimson and amber, and a
pale, soft azure in a setting of gray. Another followed,
and then came a troop of little silver things, hurrying
after each other, as though on their way to a fairy wed-
ding, scarce rippling the water as they went. _ Willard
caught by a branch of the birch tree that grew there
when he first opened his eyes on the landscape, and swung
himself to the bank. His seat wagas soft as the richest
carpet, woven of glossy brown and gold; and as he again
bent over the stream, he scooped up handfuls of the cold
water and dashed them over his burning face, jewelling
his wavy hair and the luxurious bank together. Along
the borders of the stream grew clumps of willows, their
WILLARD LAWSON. 19

narrow leaves trembling on the breath of the morning,
and now and then a wild elm, shagged with green away
down to the earth, or a round-topped maple, or a silver-
coated beech ; and at their roots sprang troops of flow-
ers, bending their blue and crimson cups to the water,
while in the spots of light breaking through their branches
swarmed clans of bright-hued insects, dipping their gay
wings in the liquid gold of morning, and warming their
bloodless limbs at the heart of nature. It was beautiful,
and Willard had often thought so; but now his heart
yearned toward the familiar scene, and he would have
taken the whole to his bosom and folded his arms about
it, as tenderly as a mother clasps the child she dotes upon.
Again the tears rushed to his eyes, and again he dashed
the cool water upon his face; and, without turning for
another glance, hurried on. ‘The sheep were speckling
the green of the neighbouring pastures, and the horses
were bounding and tossing their manes in play, or quietly
cropping the grass at their feet ; but Willard had grown
wiser, and did not trust himself among them. He sprang
over the fence and proceeded resolutely along the road-
side. But his trials were not yet over. With a cry of
joy, that seemed almost human, a dog rushed over the
banks among the thorny bushes, scattering down a shower
of rain-drops, bounded over the fence, and leaped, qui-
vering all over with, gladness, to the shoulders of his
young master.

“Good dog! good Rover!” exclaimed the boy, in a
husky, broken voice, patting the head and smoothing the
neck of his favourite. “ Good fellow! I did not want to
scold you, and so—Bill should have known better than
20 WILLARD LAWSON,

to set you free. But I must take nothing, not even my
own dog, from the farm. Go back, Rover, go back !”

The dog seemed to understand the words, though they
were spoken low and sorrowfully, and without a gesture,
and he looked up with his large meek eyes into the boy’s
face—oh, so pleadingly! Poor Willard’s heart had been
swelling until his bosom seemed hardly large enough to
contain it, but this last appeal was too much ; and, with
uncontrollable sobbings, he threw himself upon the neck
of his dumb favourite, and clung to him as though he had
no other associate or friend on earth. And he had no
other now. Poor Willard! For awhile the wanderer
sobbed on in utter abandonment ; the dog now thrusting
his nose into his bosom, now licking his hands and face,
and striving by such mute eloquence to win him from his
grief, whatever might have occasioned it. At last the
youth mastered the emotion, and with trembling lip and
swimming eye, stood again upon his feet.

“Go home, Rover—go! Go, Rover! Rascal! down!
down! go home !”

The dog, at the first command, given fulteringly, had
sprung again to his master’s shoulders, wagging his tail,
as though to congratulate him on his restored calmness,
But at the last words, spoken authoritatively, he crouched
at his feet, whining piteously, and looking up to his face
with the most beseeching fondness. If the eyes be the
mirror of the soul, what a soul some brute animals must
have! Willard turned his head from their chiding, ap-
pealing gaze, and choked down the heart that was spring-
ing to his throat, while, in a louder and still more com-
WILLARD LAWSON. 21

manding tone, he exclaimed, pointing with his finger and
stamping with his foot, ‘‘ Back, Rover! Go home!”

The dog only lowered his head quite to the dust, and
whined more piteously than before. Perhaps Willard
was afraid to trnst his voice again, but he certainly was
resolved on making the animal obey him. Taking a knife
from his pocket, he proceeded, not very deliberately, to
a tree which drooped its heavy branches over the stone
wall by the wayside. The dog did not move, but his
large, pitiful eyes followed his young master to the tree,
and watched him with a look of meek sorrow while he
cut a limb from it and hastily trimmed away the leaves,
But—as he returned! Willard was within a yard of his
mutely eloquent friend, when the dog seemed of a sudden
to comprehend his intent; and with a sharp, piercing
cry, made up of more emotions than often swell in a
human bosom—a cry of intense, heart-crushing anguish—
he leaped the fence and bounded away. Willard watched
him ; not with tears now, for there was something horri-
fying in what he had done, but with a kind of awe-
stricken fear, until he reached the little bridge which had
been thrown over the creek in the pasture. Here the
dog for the first time relaxed his speed, turned about, and
stretching his neck, ominously, in the direction in which
Willard stood, sent forth a long, dismal howl. Howl
after howl—how] after howl—prolonged—terrible !_ And
the boy, putting his fingers to his ears, ran with all his
speed, till he had left the hill between himself and his
home. Pause once more, and bethink thee, Willard !
Perchance, that far-off howl, dying now in the distance,
is warning thee of coming evil. Pause and think !
22 WILLARD LAWSUN.

As Willard hurried on, though he passed familiar farm-
houses, bidding adieu to the scenes of boyhood, perhaps
for ever, a change gradually came over him; for the
clear, fresh air of morning brushed his cheek and cooled
his forehead, giving courage to his heart ; and the brisk
motion quickened his blood and took some of the pain
from his pulse-throbs. By degrees his thoughts passed
over from the things he was leaving, to the future; and
he went on, whistling ‘‘ A life on the ocean-wave,” and
carelessly switching the thistles and May-blossoms with
the stick which he had cut for Rover.

CHAPTER II.—A STRANGER,

Witiarp had been wandering by the wharf all day,
passing from one vessel to another, talking with seamen
and laying plans for the future with apparent boldness ;
but, spite of all this, there was a desolate feeling at his
heart, which was fast writing itself in unboyish characters
of thought upon his face. He still had with him the
stick which he brought from Lawson farm; and carried
suspended from it a small bundle of things which he had
taken the forethought to tie up in a pocket handkerchief
on the morning he left home. ' This, with a very scanty
purse, was all he had on earth ; neither money, nor goods,
nor friends. But he possessed that which was worse for
him, unguided as he was, than his wants—a bold, im-
pulsive nature, self-confidence, and an undoubting trust
in, others, warmth and energy and gaiety, and a desire
to see everything and test everything ; while, just at this
moment, when he most needed it, a hinge was loosened
WILLARD LAWSON. 23

in his strong heart. He wandered alone to a back street,
dark, narrow and filthy, for he was taking his first lesson
in economy, and seated himself on a bench at the door
of an alehouse, Strange beings were passing by. The
drunkard and the pauper, the undisguised miserable and
the degraded mirthful in their misery, the needy beggar
and the beggar by profession; all went trooping on ;
varied only now and then by a face which had some
tokens of decency in it, to break up the disgusting mo-
notony. After awhile men began to gather in the ale-
house, for night came creeping on. And such men!
Willard had never dreamed of their like before. There
were oaths and blasphemies, and brutal jests and coarse
loud peals of laughter, and wrangling, with now and then
an expostulation that had but little gentleness about it ;
and as Willard listened, he moved uneasily on his bench
and looked about him with some anxiety, for his pros-
pects for the night were anything but agreeable. But
should he be coward enough to change his quarters ?
Willard was but a boy, and boys have some super-
refined notions of courage. He stretched himself upon
the bench, placing his little bundle under his head. He
had not been in this position long when his attention was
attracted by another new-comer. The stranger was tall
and broad-shouldered—magnificently made ; and as he
stept into the light beyond the doorway, Willard raised
his head and looked after him admiringly, Was it some
brigand chief, some proud and powerful sea-robber, or
could it be a mere common man like the others there,
smoking and drinking and swearing? He could not be
a good man, for Willard knew that this was no place for
24 WILLARD LAWSON.

the good. And yet he did not look like one given to
vicious habits or evil passions. His rich, wavy hair was
slightly grizzled, but it had evidently been touched by
no pencil more objectionable than Time carries ; his com-
plexion was pale and delicate, quite unlike that of a sea-
robber ; and his soft blue eye was full of mildness and
love. He wore a stiff, military-looking coat, buttoned
closely to the chin, displaying his strong muscular pro-
portions to the best advantage, and carried in his hand
a heavy walking-stick, headed with silver. Willard could
not discover in what the stranger’s peculiarity either of
dress or manner consisted, and yet there was a pecu-
liarity which attracted the attention of all the bar-room
loungers. He spoke a word or two to those nearest him
on entering, in a voice of singular richness and energy ;
and then drawing back a little from the company, placed
himself upon a settle, just inside the door. He was evi-
dently a stranger to the rest of the company as to Wil-
lard; and although he seemed disinclined to join in their
mirth, his eye wandered from one to another with an in-
terested kind of curiosity, which puzzled our young friend
not a little. Was there any affinity existing between the
spirit of the stranger and a scene like this? There was
a nobleness in his countenance and a majesty in his air,
which belonged to no common person—an arch-angel
fallen, perhaps, for, if not fallen, why should he be there
among the vicious and degraded ? Willard watched him
wonderingly, and as he watched, the heads within began
to dance together, the night-lamps joined them, and
finally the stars, and at last the boy’s dull eyes closed
entirely, and his chin rested upon his shirt-collar, Wil-
WILLARD LAWSON. 25

lard was tired and sleepy that night. How long he gave
himself up to the dream-spirits he did not know; but
when he awoke, a voice of singular kindness, close to his
ear, remarked, ‘‘ You have slept soundly, my son.”

‘* T have had an unusual pillow,” returned Willard,
smiling, and raising his head from the shoulder where it
had rested, ‘‘ I trust I may not have hugged it too long
for its owner’s convenience.”

‘¢ That is its owner’s care. It was presented unasked,
and might have been reclaimed at any moment. But,
surely,” added the stranger, in a lower tone, ‘‘ you are
not in the habit of resorting to such a place as this?”

‘‘T might return the compliment,” answered Willard,
laughing, “for I take your remark as something of a
compliment ; I wondered myself to sleep upon the sub-
ject.”

‘¢ And what did you decide ?”

** Nothing.”

‘“‘T have met with better success in my study. You are
a stranger.”

‘‘ Not quite a companion for men like those ?—thank
you.”

*‘ You are far from home, for the first time ?”

‘‘ The first time,” returned Willard, with a sigh.

* You have not always been happy in that home ?”

‘There ’s no great skill in that—who has ?”

“You left it in anger.”

‘Go on, wizard.”

‘‘'You know you have taken a false step, and feel much
regret; but you are too proud to return.”
26 WILLARD LAWSON.

‘¢ No, no, I am not sorry I have done it. I am not
sorry—lI would n’t go back for the world!”

‘¢ Rover misses you.”

Willard started, and turned slightly pale.

”



** And your sister Sophy

‘¢ Ha! I believe you are the deuce, man.”

‘* Not quite, my son; your guess has even less courtesy
in it than mine, when I dub you runaway.”

** Who and what are you that you should know so
much of me—know the names of Sophy and Rover ?”

** T can tell you more—you have a desire to go to sea.”

* Right, but you must have dealings with his black
majesty.”

‘* And more.” Here the stranger took the youth’s
hand affectionately in his, and looked into his face with
solemn earnestness, ‘‘I can tell you more, my son; and
I am no magician to discover it. I see it written upon
your forehead ; I see it beaming in your eye. God has
done that for you which may make you among men like
yonder star among these feeble lamp-lights. He has
gifted you with a quick, powerful intellect, and a warm,
earnest heart; but that power may be degraded and
spend itself on trifles; that warmth may be perverted.
The gallant craft you are about to launch upon the broad
ocean of the world, (pardon me, my son,) with tender
sails and warped rudder, is a thing too noble to subject
to such a risk. If you were an older sailor you would
make better preparations for your voyage. No, I am
laying no unusual weakness to your charge. I see the
fire in your eye; I read strength of purpose on that bold
WILLARD LAWSON. 27

brow, and I know what a strong will may enable you to
do. But beware, my son! as noble vessels as yours
have been wrecked; as strong minds have yielded the
jewel of intellect — integrity, unswerving principle ;
hearts as true as yours have blackened under the finger
of pollution. What talisman have you to bear you
safely through? ‘There was a time, I think—there must
have been a time when you prayed, ‘ lead us not into
temptation ;’ and now you are voluntarily walking in the
way of it. Do I not tell you truth, my son?”

‘¢ What am I to do?” asked Willard, with a quiver-
ing lip.

‘¢ First sit down and tell me all your troubles and
your plans.”

‘¢ You seem to be pretty well informed on that subject
already.”

“ I never saw you, nor heard of you till this evening.”

‘‘ How, then, do you know so much about me?”

*“ Your face is just now strangely full of thought—
you look innocent—you are respectably clad—you carry
a bundle on your walking-stick—you are in a place given
up to the vicious—you go to sleep unsuspectingly where
any but a stranger would feel pretty sure of having his
pocket picked—you murmur names in your sleep—your
speech on awaking is intelligent; am I a wizard?”

‘‘ You are observing.”

‘‘ T came here to observe ; and shall be but too happy
if I can be of service to you.”

“ I thank you, but I believe my path is pretty plain
before me. I have had conversation with a shipmaster
to-day, and have very nearly enlisted as a sailor. You
28 WILLARD LAWSON.

are very kind; but, notwithstanding your warning, I have
a fancy that he who cannot preserve purity of mind and
morals on the water, would scarce do it on the land.”

“ Very true, my son. Is it your intention to go out
as a common sailor?”

“ Yes, I begin at the bottom of the hill. I have no
friends to help me to a better berth.”

‘“‘ Your associates then must necessarily be men who,
if not vicious, are ignorant—you will have no change of
companionship, nothing to elevate your thoughts and
feelings—all a dark, degraded level about you, and you
must be more than human not to sink to it. You are
young, too, and do not yet understand your capabilities,
because you have not tested them. You should be tho-
roughly educated P

‘“‘T do not like study, sir.”

‘“‘ Scarce an excuse for a man, my son. If the bird
should chance not to like the air, we might give it to
some little girl to enslave, or if the fish should find the
water disagreeable, we should scarce take the trouble to
reason with it—let the foolish thing die ; but the immor-
tal mind is not a bird or a fish, to be granted its whim
and perish. The question is not what you fancy, but
what you need. Nothing worth having flies to you and -
alights upon your hand ; you must seek, dig, dig, dig, and
the ‘ hid treasure,’ when found, will be worth a thousand
worlds to you. There is something glorious, too, in the
labour. You commence in this world a process which is
to be carried on hereafter under the eyes of angels—
which is to make the bliss of eternity. Think of the great,
undying, God-like mind within you, lying all uncultivated,


WILLARD LAWSON. 29

its capacities undeveloped, its powers unimproved, its af-
finity to the Deity unrecognised—benefiting no one, in-
fluencing no one, lost like rubbish among the things that
perish—a chasm in the great intellectual unity, a monster
‘ of ingratitude to the God who endowed it, and a curse to
itself. You cannot walk through the world as the fool
walks, and be happy; for there is that within you which
demands your life-long care, and if you neglect it—listen
to me, my son, believe me, for I have seen more years
and more men than you have, and I have made natures
like yours my study—if you neglect it, you may almost as
well turn at once to yonder bar and find your associates
there. You cannot satisfy the yearning of the deathless
spirit for the food it covets, with husks; it will not be
toyed with; and when, starved, enslaved, trampled on,
its sharp cry comes to your ear, you will drown it as—
those men drown it. Look! that one with the scar across
’ the brow, and the frightful scowl had—has no common
mind—you will discover it for yourself if you watch his
actions and his words. On the table yonder, degrading
himself lower than any mountebank, is one made to love
beauty and harmony—a poet by nature, a harlequin by
prostitution.”

‘ You seem to know them well,” remarked Willard,
throwing a scrutinizing glance on his monitor. |
“‘ As I know you; I have never met them before.”

** T had been looking at them before you came in, and
I thought them either fools or madmen ; there seems to
be no reason either in their actions or words, ’

“ They are both; but not half as mad as you are now
to run voluntarily into the same danger.”
80 WILLARD LAWSON.

Willard drew himself up. ‘“ I have reason to be highly
flattered, sir, with your opinion of my strength of charac-
ter and purity of principle.”

The stranger laid his hand soothingly on the shoulders
of the half-angry youth, which lowered beneath its mag-
netic touch, until he stood smiling beside him as before.
‘“¢ Have you more than human strength, my son? There |
is an angel hovering over your heart I know; but is there
one standing at its door with a flaming sword to keep out
evil? Is it chained fast that it cannot go into error ? Are
you stronger than the Son of the Morning, and purer
than he, that you cannot fall? Does none of the original
sin of our ruined natures cleave to you, and have you
added nothing thereto? A Redeemer died for you; but
did he make it impossible for you to sin? or was it not
this same Holy One who said, ‘ Watch and pray, lest you
enter into temptation?’ Think of the indignant exclama-
tion of one as pure-hearted and unsuspecting as you are:
‘ What! dost thou think thy servant a dog that he should
do this great thing?’ And what things did he not do?
What crime too black for him afterwards? ‘There was a
time, I doubt not, when yonder harlequin would have
been indignant had his present degradation but been
hinted at. But listen to him now. That was a beautiful
sentiment to drop from such lips—but how distorted—
and finished with an oath—hear him, There was a time
when he was innocent and self-confident, and I am sure
not many years ago. Wait me here while I recall those
days. If I can but lay my finger on the right chord, I
may produce a vibration which will call up some well-nigh
forgotten strain of better days, and do him good.”
WILLARD LAWSON. 31

The stranger stepped to the table, where a light-haired,
fair-faced, lithe young man was dancing and singing
songs, and performing various feats of buffoonery for the
amusement of the boisterous company about him.”

‘¢ Henry Crayton, I believe !”

‘* Ah! ‘what’s in a name?’ ‘ Avoid ye! get thee
behind me!’ ‘Do you squinny at me?’

‘ When the wine-cup is smiling before us,

And we pledge round to hearts that are true, boys, true,
Remember your part’s to encore us;

So here 's for a hulabuloo—loo, loo, loo,

So here ’s for—here ’s for—’

Where are your voices, boys? Oh, there is the big
shadow yet—out with it, man!”

‘*T have a message for you.”

‘¢ Then deliver thyself, an’ thou art not breathless with
the weighty matter, my little foot-page. Speak on;
these are all our right loyal subjects, and we have no
secrets from their ears.”

‘“* T had better wait your leisure,” replied the stranger,
turning away.

‘‘ Leisure! here’s for you, then. I come—I come!”
and, plunging from the table, young Crayton alighted on
his hands, turned a somerset, cleared himself of the ap-
plauding crowd, and joined the tall stranger on the
portico.

‘*Perhaps I should apologize for interrupting your
agreeable amusement,” Willard heard his new friend re-
mark,

‘‘ Agreeable! Well, there is laughing and the hours
go by—yes, it is agreeable. You had an errand?”
32 WILLARD LAWSON.

‘“‘ My message was a petition.”

“ You had better have presented it then while I was
on my throne. Ha, ha!”

‘It is a solemn one.”

‘¢ Well, speak, though I have no liking for solemn
things,” answered the half-sobered youth,

‘ Let ’s laugh and be merry,
For old Charon’s ferry,
It ——’

I beg your pardon, speak on.”

“An angel once dwelt in your heart, and he would
fain come back again. Innocence is the lost one’s name
—oh, take her to your bosom, and with her she will
bring a sister—Peace.” Willard did not hear the re-
ply, but he thought it was a scoff, and he wondered if it
were possible for him ever to become so degraded. The
two men still pursued their walk up and down the portico,
their voices gradually growing lower and more earnest,
till not a single word could be distinguished. At last
they parted. ‘The younger walked away in the darkness,
and the stranger monitor returned to the waiting Willard.

“Poor fellow! He is very miserable, for he is as
sensitive concerning his degradation as though it were not
his own work. He was not sorry to find sympathy and
encouragement, and I have left him with an arrow in his
heart which he may turn to balm, Heaven help him !
He has promised to come to me in the morning for em-
ployment. If he should, I will do the best I can for
him, and I think some friends that I have in town would
second my endeavours.”
WILLARD LAWSON. 33

‘Do you believe that he will keep his promise?”

“Tt is doubtful. He might reform, but it is hard to
retread steps of darkness and bitterness ; better commence
aright, my son.”

Willard wished himself at home again, and almost
thought that he would submit to his father’s control,
(tyranny he named it,) in order to avoid the fearful
hazard of his present position.

“© T would commence aright,” he began, falteringly, ‘* I
would commence aright—but—I cannot go back to
Lawson farm, ‘There is no one to guide me here, no one
to advise me; what shall I do?”

‘© And why not go back, my son?”

‘¢ T am not happy there—I cannot be. If there were
any one to talk to me as you do, to awaken me to a
consciousness of my own powers, and teach me to culti-
vate and improve them, I might find pleasure in that ;
but I shall go away and forget what you have told me,
and I cannot do right when Iam unhappy. No, [never
will go back to Lawson farm.”

‘© Go with me then, will you not?”

“© Where ?”

‘¢ To—to complete your education, to fit yourself for
usefulness in the sphere which to-day you may choose ;
to-morrow will be lost to you. Go with me, my son,
and you never will regret this most important decision of
your life.”

‘* How can I go? Iam but one remove from beg-
gary, though I decline the profession in favour of the
‘ bounding billow.’ Here is my wardrobe in this pocket-
handkerchief, and here my purse—just ten shillings

C
34 WILLARD LAWSON,

in it—a weighty capital with my expectations! I have
nothing else in the wide world.”

*‘ You have a strong hand and a strong intellect. Im-
prove well what you have, and I will make the rest easy
for you.”

** Who then are you ?”

The stranger pulled a card from his pocket, and put
it in the hand of the youth, who stepped nearer the
light to read it. In a moment he returned, his eye
moist and his voice tremulous.

‘‘ T have heard of you. You have been very kind to
reason so with my waywardness, and I commit myself,
without question, to your guidance; for your voice has
reached to my inmost spirit, and roused aspirations which
might have slumbered for ever.”

‘You will go with me, then ?”

“ T will. I dare not refuse. It almost seems to me
that you have been sent here, in this hour of danger, by
my dead mother.”

‘¢ Perhaps ; the spirits that have gone home before do
watch over us, my son.”

CHAPTER III.——-THE ORATOR.

AN immense concourse of the proudest intellects our
country can boast, had assembled at ——-—. There
was a hush like the pulseless silence of the tomb; for
the inspiration of a mighty spirit had passed over them ;
and each rapt listener suspended his breathing, lest even
that should drown some tone replete with the eloquence
WILLARD LAWSON. 85

of the mighty indwelling spirit. The voice of the speaker
was one well known in the council-hall, ‘one to which
senators had listened with reverence, one which wisdom
honoured and philanthropy had cause to bless. And he
now spoke eloquently and feelingly upon a subject, which
it was evident interested him beyond measure—the dis-
persion of the clouds from the intellectual horizon of the
human race; and the full, steady light, flooding every-
thing in its way, which was spreading itself from zenith
to nadir. He spoke of the might of mind even in its
clay prison; of the man of the wise thought beside the
man of the strong arm; of the little voice which comes
up from the lone philosopher’s cell to shake the broad
earth with its thunders; and of the foolish one, who goes
out among his fellows, never knowing nor making it
known that he carries more than the wealth of an empire
in his bosom. He went back to the earth’s midnight,
and plunged into the closet of the alchymist and the cell
of the monk, where genius wrestled with superstition, in
the dense darkness, and where knowledge long hid her
mourning head; and he brought up from each a libation
to pour upon the altar of intellectual democracy. He
pointed to the lone stars that formerly glittered, wonders
to gaze at, in the wide heaven of literary fame ; and then
he suddenly unrolled a new firmament, all spangled over
with orbs full of brilliancy and beauty, but so lost in the
universal light as to be scarce discoverable. And with
what heartfelt eloquence he hailed the glorious morning!
Ah! he must have been standing beneath a sun of his
own, to be so enraptured with the spirit-warming efful-
gence; for there are those who even now see nothing
36 WILLARD LAWSON,

but feeble rush-lights, glimmering in the darkness ; who
long for the olden time, when but one star blazed aloft to
light a century, and after its exit the world slumbered on,
till another came, darting its wild coruscations athwart the
gloom with startling fitfulness. He was not a mere ora-
tor; he was an artist, a Pygmalion, and his creations
breathed—glowed—burned ; his Promethean hand had
stolen the sacred fire, and he scattered it with a wild pro-
fusion, which left a spark on every heart—not to kindle
passion, but to burn away the dross, and leave the god-
like spirit unalloyed, in unshackled freedom. He ceased,
and that vast concourse arose and walked away in sub-
dued silence. Each mind, however deeply buried in fri-
volities, flung open its portals to thought, and thought is
the angel which, once admitted, rectifies and renovates
the whole inner being.

Among those who listened to the thrilling eloquence
of the gifted orator was a noble-browed, mild-eyed old
man, with locks of snow, and a face whose expression
combined benevolence with native dignity. His broad
chest heaved: with emotion while he listened ; and, when
the eyes of others kindled with enthusiasm, his closed
over with the warm tears which gushed up from a foun-
tain stirred in his bosom only; for he knew that from a
little seed which he once held between his own fingers,
sprang all those sentiments so fraught with life, so redo-
lent with wisdom and purity. In a few minutes they had
grasped hands—the noble old man, and the son of his
better nature. They met not with outward caressings,
but with a close clasping of the spirit which is sometimes
granted on this side of bliss, and a more than womanly
WILLARD LAWSON. 87

gush of tenderness quivering in either voice; for it is a
gross wisdom which claims not love for its twin.

Go on, Willard Lawson! gather thy jewels about thee,
as thou art gathering them now; make thine own setting
one of unsurpassed glory; for soon a brow thou lovest
will turn from earth to be adorned in heaven; and on
that noble brow the jewel of thine own bright spirit will
glitter.
THE FRENCH EMIGRANTS.

‘‘ Sez, mother, see! we are coming nearer and nearer
every moment. It is a beautiful town—so bright and
cheerful! and everything looks so fresh about it! Oh!
it does one’s heart good to see the land again. And that
is Fort James, perched on that high point, and looking
down as though it were the guardian of the waters. We
shall be very happy here, in this charming home !—You
look sad, mother.”

So spake a slight, dark-haired stripling, with the warm
hue of a southern sun upon his cheek; as, leaning over
the vessel’s side, while she rode proudly into the harbour
of New York, he fixed his glowing eye upon the long
hoped-for asylum of the new world. The young queen
of western commerce was indeed bright that morning ;
with the pretty fort for a crown, and skirts sweeping back
into the green shadow, all jewelled over with happy
hearth-stones. Indeed, never was town more finely
spread out for a sea-view; and the yellow Holland brick,
of which many of the buildings were constructed, and the
mingled red and black tiles which covered the roofs of
more, with the glow of the sunlight upon them, made it
as gay asasachem’s bride. ‘The broad banner waved
and flaunted cheerily from the top of the tall flag-staff,
rt

THE FHfNCH EMIGRANTS. 39

seeming to promise protection to the stranger and the
defenceless; and as the ship glided majestically over the
just rippling waters, long and loud were the cheers that
arose from the multitude collected on the shore ; and the
formal salutation from the fort met with a ready response
from the hearty crew. All now was confusion on board
—a glad, joyous confusion; pleased exclamations fell
from one lip, only to be snatched up and echoed by, ano-

ther; and handkerchiefs fluttered in the air, in reply to

like signals from waiting friends on the land.

“You look sad, mother,” repeated the boy, lowering
his voice, till its soft tones contrasted strangely with the
universal gaiety, and turning upon her a glance of ten-

~ derly respectful inquiry.

“Tf I felt so, I should be ungrateful, my son. God
has guided us’ from a land of persecution to the garden
which he has planted for his oppressed. But you spoke
of home, Francois, and I thought of our vine-covered
hills, and of the sunny valley, on the banks of the Loire,
where I have left sleeping all but you.”

“ Do not think of it again, my mother.”

The woman pressed her hand for a moment against her
forehead, as though stifling, meanwhile, some deep emo-
tion ; then said, in a different tone, ‘‘ If we only had that
lost casket, Frangois! The Captain has not always been
kind to us, and I dread meeting him now—he has almost
seemed to doubt the truth of our story. Heaven help
us! but it will be along time before we can pay this
passage money!” .

“‘ Never fear for that, mother; money comes almost
by the asking, they say, here, and I shall soon be a man,
40 THE FRENCH EMIGRANTS.

now. I will build you a little cabin under the shelter of
the trees. The men have told me just how it is done,
and I long to be at work this very moment, I will build
you a nice cabin, and I will kill game which you shall
cook for us two, and we will sit down at evening, just as
we used to sit in our pretty cottage in France before that
horrible persecution, and you shall—Don’t look so
troubled, mother ; you are thinking of this ugly affair of
the money, now. I can trade in furs, and—do I hardly
know what, but just what the other settlers do to get
rich ina day. You must remember that I am not a
little boy, now, but can take care of myself, and you too ;
and they tell me that the term Huguenot is an honour-
able one here. Oh! we shall be very happy! think you
not so, mother ?”

‘* Anywhere with thee, my noble boy!” returned the
matron, gazing fondly upon the eloquent young face
turned so earnestly to hers. ‘* With freedom to worship
God as he has bidden, and with thee, my last earthly
hope and trust, beside me, what more could I ask or de-
sire ?”

The ship had anchored in the bay, and hurriedly the
gea-wearied passengers were landing. Many. citizens
lad come on board; and on the shore, friend grasped
the hand of friend, with such cordial words of greeting
as the first heart-bound carried to the lip. Among all
glad ones, none were gladder than the enthusiastic French
lad. With bared head, and joy-flashing eye, he stood
beside his mother watching the happy throng, as though
in their happiness he could forget his own exile. But
that was not the source of his animation. He was
THE FRENCH EMIGRANTS. 41

looking to the future—his young spirit buoyed up by
hopes as yet unintelligible to himself, but brighter for the
very veil which covered them; and his heart beating
with the tenderness which was all centered on one human
being—his widowed, and, but for him, childless mother.

‘‘ Stand here a moment, and I will see where we can
be set ashore. I am longing to plant my foot on that
spot of green.” So saying, the youth mingled in the
crowd, and the widow turned her eyes from the view of
her new home, to follow, with the fond pride of a mother,
his graceful figure as it moved, all unlike the others,
about the deck. In a few moments he returned, the
masses of raven hair, which had been flung back to allow
the fragrant land-breezes to play upon his temples, half-
shading his pale cheek, and his white lip quivering with
agitation,

‘Francois! what is it, my son? speak!’

‘Oh! it is too much—too much! I shall die here,
so near the land!” and the boy, forgetting his boast of
manhood, leaned over the railing and wept passionately.

The mother placed her hand soothingly upon his glossy
curls, which shook as though the throbbing heart below
had been in them; and waited patiently his explanation.

“ We must stay here, mother—and I cannot live in
this horrid ship another night, I am sure I cannot.”

“ We have spent many happy nights and days in it,
my son,” returned the widow, softly ; “* but why must we
stay now? Who detains us?”

“ We cannot land till the ship charges are paid—so
they have told me ; and that will be never—never.”

A look of troubled surprise spread itself over the
42 THE FRENCH EMIGRANTS.

_ widow’s countenance ; but still her spirit was in subjec-
tion to the careful tenderness of the mother. “I am
sorry for your sake, Francois; but cheer up, my son! It
will do them no good to detain us here, and they will let ~
us go in the morning—I am sure they will.”

‘¢ If they would set me on the land, I would work like
a galley-slave, but they should receive the uttermost far-
thing.”

‘¢ We will tell them so—we will tell them so. Cheer
up, Frangois, and let us look upon the city again. It is
but a little while till morning.” ,

Francois seemed to make an effort for his mother’s
sake, and raised his head ; but how changed was the ex-
pression of those two faces, as they again turned towards
the land!

Only a few feet from the exiles had stood, for the last
ten minutes, a person who regarded them closely, though
by them entirely unnoticed. His mild blue eyes, and fair,
good-humoured face, bespoke him a Hollander; and the
massive silver buckles at his knees and on his shoes, pro-
claimed him an individual of some consequence, which
was farther confirmed by the deferential manner of those
around him, A close observer would have detected a
strange mixture of the child and the man in that face.
The eye was soft and gentle as a woman’s, while the
mouth evinced a singular degree of firmness and decision ;
and, though the very spirit of benevolence rested on the
retreating forehead, with its crown of half-silvered hair,
the bold determination with which the broad nostril was
now and then expanded, contradicted the bare supposi-
tion of weakness. His attention had been attracted by
THE FRENCH EMIGRANTS. 43

the interesting foreigners; he had seen the boy bound, .
like a freed deer, from the side of his mother, and return
drooping and dispirited; and he had seen that mother
stifling some deep emotion for the sake of her boy. It
was evident that he did not understand their language,
for he watched them as though studying out the cause of
their sorrow, until they turned away their faces; and
then, with a look of sympathy, he left them, probably
believing them to be of the number who had crossed the
ocean in search of friends, to find them only in their
graves.

Two days passed, and still the lone Huguenot strangers
were prisoners in the ship, in sight of the green earth and
of cheerful firesides.

“This,” exclaimed the widow, as she crouched in the
cabin, desolate and heart-sick, ‘ this is worse than all
the rest—not for me—TI could bear it—I could bear any
thing alone ; but my poor, poor boy r

She was roused by aslow, dragging step, so unlike the
elastic spring of her idol, that, but for its lightness, she
would not have recognised it.

“ Mother, it is decided—I have just learned our fate ‘ee
and the fragile boy sunk, like a crushed blossom, at her
feet.

The widow tried to assume a tone of encouragement.
“ What is it, Francois? any thing is better than this close
ship, with the green earth and shady trees so near us. I
cannot bear to see you droop and pine, my love—if they
would but give you back the strength and pride this sor-
row has stolen—if I could but see your bright head erect

son 2?
again” —
44 THE FRENCH EMIGRANTS.

‘‘Tt never can be, mother; better that we both were
dead—dead in our graves in France! Oh! why did we
ever come away? ‘There they would give us nothing
worse than a dungeon or a coffin ; here they will not let
us so hide ourselves—will not let us die. What think
you, mother?” and now, the boy, dashing the hair back
from his forehead, changed his mournful tone to one of
mad energy. ‘In an hour or two, we are to be exposed
in their market-place, in the open street—sold like their
Holland plough-horses and Utrecht heifers” —

The widow’s life might have gone out from her, in that
one wild scream of heart-piercing agony. She was pre-
pared for toil—for suffering in almost every shape. She
could have borne even slavery, herself; but her boy, her
proud, high-hearted boy! the beautiful biossom that
God had given to bless her bereavement! the bird, that,
if but an autumn breeze shook the roof-tree rudely, had
nestled in her bosom for protection !—her frail, but
noble boy, so delicate, so gentle to her, yet so spirited !
—should he, too, be crushed beneath a foot triple-shod
with iron? Should his fair, polished limbs, through
which she had so often traced the flow of the red life-
current, which her lip had touched, and her loving eye
admired, canker beneath the heavy chain of a life-lasting
bondage? Should that eagle eye grow cold in child-
hood ? that bright lip forget its smile? that free, glad-
some heart become the grave of all its freshly budding
wealth of feeling? Was there no appeal? Could she not
find, in the crowd which thronged that busy city, a single
human heart which she could excite to something like
sympathy? that would be content to crush her to the

ts
THE FRENCH EMIGRANTS. 45

earth, wring her spirit till every cord should snap asun-
der, and save her boy? Alas! what could be done by
a stranger, a lone, feeble woman, confined to her prison
in the ship? If she could be led forth to the haunts of
men, and they would listen, those who could understand
her language were fugitives like herself, and probably
nearly as helpless. So the miserable Frenchwoman
crouched upon the low settle in entire helplessness, and
moaned as though her spirit would have passed on each
breath. Minute after minute, minute after minute of
slowly moving time went by; and still the sobbing boy
rested his forehead upon his mother’s knees; and still
the mother clasped her hands, and moaned on.

There was a quick, heavy tread upon the cabin stairs;
but neither looked up. It came nearer, and paused be-
side them; but the woe-laden exiles moved not; they
had no ear for anything but their own misery.

‘‘T have good news for you, madam,” commenced a
somewhat harsh voice, hesitatingly, ‘‘ good news — do
you hear me? can you listen ?”

The widow raised an alarmed eye to the face of the
speaker, and clung, with a desperate grasp, to her son.

The boy’s apprehension was quicker. ‘* Good news!
What? In God’s name, do not mock us !”

‘‘T am sent by one, who cannot speak our language,
to say —”

The man paused a moment to note the effect of his
words.

“ Speak on!” exclaimed Frangois ; ‘* you torture us.”

“To say that your ship charges are paid; and you
are free, free to go wherever you list.”
46 THE FRENCH EMIGRANTS.

The widow stared in eager doubt, her hand still grasp-
ing firmly the arm of her boy. But Francois! the droop-
ing blossom of the moment previous ! How the eloquent
blood came rushing to his cheek, and how his dark eye
flashed with awakened hope! Not a single exclamation
broke from his lip; but he stood like a proud young
eagle pluming his wings for flight.

It was several minutes before the exiles were prepared
to listen to an explanation of their good fortune. When
they did, they were told simply that a benevolent mer-
chant, endeared to the common people of New York for
his many virtues, had seen them on the day of their
arrival, and had found his sympathies deeply enlisted by
their evident disappointment, and the sorrow it occa-
sioned. Afterwards, he lost sight of them until the de-
cision of the tribunal, which would have made them
slaves; when, finding his influence insufficient to prevent
the disgraceful proceedings, he had stepped in with his
purse, and discharged the debt.

“© You are now free to go wherever you like,” conti-
nued the good natured interpreter ; “but you are in-
vited to the house of your benefactor, where you will find
friends, and a home until you choose to leave it.”

“ God bless the noble merchant! I will be fas slave
for ever !” exclaimed Frangois, his heart swelling with
~ enthusiastic gratitude.

The widow’s lips moved, and warm tears, for the first
time, gushed from her eyes, and rained down over her
face ; but her voice was too much broken by emotion to
convey the sentiment she would have uttered.

By the dock stood (his heart in his face and that all
THE FRENCH EMIGRANTS. 47

sunshine) a blue-eyed, bright-haired youth, with the
merchant’s own forehead, and a lip of lighter and more
graceful mould. The young Hollander was scarce infe-
rior in beauty, as he waited there to perform his most
grateful task, to Frangois himself. The merchant had
been too modest to appear as a benefactor in the public
street, well known as he was, and he had sent his son to
bring home the strangers. A snug little waggon, such
as was commonly used by the better sort of Hollanders,
awaited them, and they were soon seated and proceeding
on their way. As they neared the market-place, and the
merchant’s son caught a glimpse of the crowd assembled
(some, uninformed of what had occurred, to witness the
sale of the helpless strangers, and some to report and
expatiate upon the generous deed of their townsman), he
instantly gave the reins to his horses, and turned his head
in an opposite direction. There was at first a slight
movement in the crowd, face after face turning toward
the street. Then came a low murmur, swelling gradually
higher and higher, till at last it burst into a mighty and
universal shout, ‘‘ LONG LIVE THE NOBLE LEISLER!
‘¢ LEISLER FOR EVER |” “ LEISLER FOR EVER !”
THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE

“‘ Disciple. When the soul sinks to earth and its wings fal:

away, how may they be restored again ?
Zoroaster. By sprinkling them with the Waters of Life.
Disciple. But where are those waters to be found ?
Zoroaster, In the Garden of God.”

I wap been poring over some of the half beautiful, half
ridiculous fictions of the Oriental theologians, startled
every now and then to find a real diamond gleaming up
from the mystic rubbish of darkened genius, and sad-
dened by learning how very near the truth some few had
groped, while they had gone down to the grave without
having discovered one ray of its pure light.

Gray shadows were falling upon Strawberry Hill, when
I closed the book and leaned from the window, thinking,
as I marked a dark-eyed girl of some five summers cross-
ing the log bridge, how would the mighty Zoroaster have
been rejoiced to receive the key to truth now in the
keeping of even that little child. The shadows length-
ened and grew dimmer as I watched, the twilight deep-
ened, and my thoughts took on the same mistiness; the
Persian allegories, the Rabbinical fictions, and the sublime
doctrines of the Chaldeans became strangely m


THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE. 49

my dreaminess ; and hill, stream, and meadow faded from
my closing eyes, as a new scene opened upon them, I
was at once transported to one of the innermost recesses
of a solemn and hoary forest, which I believed had slum-
bered for centuries among its own undisturbed shadows,
untrodden by the foot of man. But even asI stood
wondering in the midst of this magnificent loneliness, I
heard a voice in plaintive sadness exclaim, “* How long!
how long!” and I at once recognised the presence of one
of those fallen angels described by the Rabbins, He had
stood upon the heights of heaven, when earth was a
gloomy mass of darkness ; he had seen ‘ the Spirit of
God move upon the face of the waters;” and he had
jomed the music of the stars, when this beautiful globe
sprung to life and light. He had nestled in the trees of
Eden, and dipped his wing in the waters of the Euphrates;
but he had sinned, alas! and those beautiful wings had
fallen away. And when I saw a frail fragile creature by
his side, that I knew had trod the earth for centuries,
though there was less than the weight of twenty summers
on her clear brow, I read his sin and its punishment.
For her sake his wings had fallen, and with her he must
wander a pilgrim upon the earth, until the end of time.
For years and years they had made their home among
men—for years and years listened to the melodies of the
rich voiced bul-bul as he warbled from the rose-trees of
voluptuous Cashmere ; drunk the perfume f¥om Persian
groves, and wandered in the romantic valleys of the Nile ;
but though they grewnot weary of beauty, there was that
in the hearts of men and in their acts which made them

sad. So the angel and his bride wandered away to dark-
D
50 THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE.

er, sterner regions. ‘They climbed the icy peaks of the
rugged Altai, slept beneath the hardy evergreen of Sibe-
ria, and braved, hand in hand, the winds which howled
along the dreary plains of Kamschatka. And still they
wandered on, till Zillah and her angel were the first
to leave their footprints on the soil of the New World.
They had since seen nation after nation grow up and
wither ; they had seen gay cities built, and again brave
old trees growing over them ;— change, change came
everywhere, but not to them. At last, another race had
claimed the soil and by might possessed it. The hearts
of the angel and his bride sickened at wrong and car-
nage ; and it was then that they plunged into the heart

of the wilderness, and made them a home in its solitary

depths.

An hour-glass had just been turned, and the angel
bent thoughtfully over it, watching the glittering sands
as they dropt, one by one, into the empty glass below.
Beside him reclined, like Eve in the original Eden, a
beautiful woman. A heavy grape-vine overshadowed
her; and underneath, and by her side, bloomed gorgeous
flowers of every hue, all matted into the luxurious green.
The hand of improvement had not yet wrested from the
wilderness its treasures, Her soul-full eye, with even
more of tenderness than thought in it, rested lovingly
upon the angel,

“ That'we should measure hours, my Zillah,” he said
at length, like children of a broken day! we whose
seconds are marked to us by the seasons, and whose
minutes are centuries !”

‘‘ And is there no change yet upon the dial-plate ?”
THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE. 51

‘¢ None. When I spent a thousand years and all my
skill upon this. dial, I little thought that cycle after cycle
would pass—cycle after cycle—years wither and go to
their graves, and young years spring up bearing with
them new germs of life, and still not a shadow come to
tell us that the evening of our long, long day was nearer
than at its morning.”

‘¢ And the other signs, in the heavens and on the earth,
and among men. Are there no way-marks yet discover-
able? nothing to say how long ere this sweet, sad jour-
ney will be ended, and my angel shall have the wings
again, which he lost for me ?”

“© Yes, it is a sweet journey, Zillah ; though so—so
long! There was unfathomable mercy in the punish-
ment awarded me, in that thou wert left ; and cheerfully
we will bide our time.”

Long and wistfully had the fallen angel watched for
some sign of the earth’s dissolution ; but yet his only
remark was, ‘‘ We will bide our time.” He had looked
for the stars to pale; but still they burned on with the
same unchanging radiance as when first the band of se-
raphim went forth to light their fires; he had watched
cloud after cloud thickening and dissolving in the hea-
vens, almost expecting to see in their endless transforma-
tion a form which he yet believed he should recognise,
step from their soft folds. But there had been no change
in these, save as they obeyed the biddings of the wind,
since from the walls of the upper Paradise he looked down
on their first fresh loveliness. There had been no sign
in heaven, and none, none on earth, What mark of age
was there in the strong-limbed giants of the wood, that
52 THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE.

stood cloud-capt around his bower in the wilderness ?
Life, life was everywhere. Everything, even death it-
self, teemed with it; for, if but a flower closed its young
eye, and turned earthward withering, flowers innumerable
sprang up where it stood; and so the mighty destroyer
became the parent of beauty and bloom. The earth had
never reeled nor paused for a single moment in its bright
circuit among the stars; but on, on, beautifully and
quietly she moved, like a bird from Paradise flown by the
hand of the Eternal. The angel had watched her in his
unvarying round, and though his eye had become dimmed
by the atmosphere of earth, he could yet see deep into
the mysteries above him. He knew much, very much o¢
the heaven-lore which God has written on the stars; but
yet the weakness of his vision was painful to him. and he
longed for the day when his mind could span the universe
as at its creation. He knew where the pelican brooded
on her rocky desert nest, and saw in the red blood drunk
by her children from her willing breast but another type
of that which has its types everywhere. He had followed
the eagle in the eye of the sun, and knew the language
of his scream, the thought which prompted every move-
ment of his strong pinion, and the dreams that hovered
over him in the cloud-capt couch he had builded on the
crag. He had seen the wing of the bird grow heavy be-
neath the weight of centuries ; and when at last it drooped
and faltered, he knew the secret which cost the adventu-
rous Spaniard a life—the fountain where it went to lave
and grow young again. He had bent his ear to the flower
and listened to its whisperings ; the foot-falls of the even-
ing dew were familiar to him; and not a drop of water
THE ANGEL'S PILGRIMAGE. 53

had a tinkle, not a leaf a murmur, and not a bird a song,
the language of which he had not interpreted to his still
youthful bride, the gentle Zillah. But the flower whis-
pered of Life; the dew brought a life-draught in every
tiny globule; and the gushing water, and the fresh-lipped
leaves, and the mellow-throated birds, and the wander-
ing breeze, all joined in a chorus which brought sadness
to the spirit of the angel. It was all Lire! Lire! but
it was that life which bears somewhere in it the seeds of
dissolution ; not a blossom from the tree guarded by the
flaming sword of cherubim.

‘¢ Are there no way-marks?” repeated Zillah. ‘ It
is long since we grew sick of the glitter and falsehood
about us, and so turned to the delicious stillness of this
quiet wilderness—very long, my angel. Let us go back
again, Perhaps we may find a faint shadowing of what
we seek in the actions of men—in their virtue, their wis-
dom, or possibly their vices. It may be that His handi-
work shall never fail; that the earth and the heavens are
immutable ; and that we are to be free when my poor
fallen brethren have received back upon their bosoms the
marred image which he first left there, or when their con-
tinued sins have worn away its slightest traces, It may
be that by wisdom they will gain a spirit-mastery, and
so drop the cumbering clay and its defilements together,
and then thou mayst return to thy home and take thy
Zillah with thee. Let us go, forth and look upon the
work of mortals, and see if they are not writing their own
destiny with their own hands.”

The angel was persuaded, and hand in hand the twain
went forth upon their pilgrimage.
54 THE ANGEL'S PILGRIMAGE.

The vision changed, and I again met the wanderers in
a great city. A noisy rabble filled the streets, and the
hoarse laugh and ribald jest passed freely as they hurried
on. Zillah shrank from their infectious touch, and as she
did so, I heard the angel whisper, ‘‘ It could not have
been worse in the ancient cities which HE destroyed by
fire.” But every minute the crowd became more dense,
and as the multitude pressed in one direction, the pilgrims
turned their heads and suffered themselves to be borne
onward by it. It stopped beneath a scaffold, and the two
strange spectators cast upon each other inquiring glances.

‘ It is some merry-making for the rude populace,” at
last the angel remarked, ‘‘ and lo! yonder comes the
harlequin.”

‘‘ Then he mimics woe,” said Zillah, ‘¢ for he seems in
an agony of suffering.”

In an agony of suffering indeed was the wretched cri-
minal, as he crawled rather than walked across the scaf-
fold, wringing his hands and uttering low, half-stifled sobs
which could not be mistaken.

‘¢ Tt is no jest,” said the angel, *“‘ and yet these men
come as merrily as to a nuptial banquet. Can it be that
these poor creatures of a day find food for mirth in a bro-
ther’s suffering ?”

‘* See! What are they doing with him?” exclaimed
Zillah in alarm.

The arms were pinioned,. the cap was drawn upon the
head, and the executioner proceeded to adjust the cord.

‘¢ It—it is a scene unfit for us!” said the angel shud-
dering, and averting his eyes with horror.

A minute after there was a movement in the crowd
THE ANGEL'S PILGRIMAGE. 55

which made a sound like the sullen murmur of the sea;
and the laugh and the jest went round as before, while
the soul of a man, a brother, was passing, with all the
blackness of its fearful guilt upon it, into the fathomless
future, and the presence of the Judge. Poor Zillah
trembled like the lightly poised hare-bell in a storm ;
there was a startled glance in her soft eye, her cheek be-
came blanched, and her tongue faltered as she exclaimed,

‘¢ What can it mean? Have they taken away his life,
the little span which, notwithstanding its briefness, men
love better than their souls?”

“ Ay, my Zillah—his life! The frail bark has been
cut from its moorings to drift away upon the unknown
ocean, by hands which even to-morrow will strive to cling
to this cold shore and strive in vain. But this is not a
fitting scene for thine eyes to look upon, my bright bird
of the sunshine,—nor mine—nor mine!” he added in a
low murmur. ‘“ Oh! for my lost, earth-bartered
wings |” ,

‘‘ Bartered for me,” returned Zillah, in a tone no loud-
er than her breath, but fraught with an exquisitely sad
melody.

The angel answered only with a look, but it brought a
tint to her cheek and a beautiful light to her eye.

‘¢ And this is murder,” she continued, after a moment’s
pause.

‘No; not murder, but the terrible punishment of a
terrible crime. When’thy race, my poor Zillah, lost
every trace of the image they first bore, and turned
against each other, like the wolves and tigers of the wil-
56 THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE.

derness, the GREAT ONE passed a decree that blood alone
should wash away the stain of human blood; and this
man’s hand was red with that which had flowed in the
veins of his brother.”

‘‘ Ah! the multitude should have veiled themselves in
sackcloth, and sprinkled the gray ashes upon the floors
of their dwellings,” said Zillah, her lip growing still paler
and quivering with horror. ‘‘ The entire people should
have thronged the altar. Mourn, mourn, ye proud na-
tion! It is the son of your bosom whose baseness has
required this terrible deed at your hands; and He alone
who ‘ rideth upon the wings of the wind,’ whose ‘ pavi-
lion is in the secret place,’ knows how far the infection
has spread. Alas! my race! my poor, degraded, ruined
race !”

‘‘ This sad spectacle must needs beget sad feelings,”
returned the angel, ‘“ and yet the thoughtless crowd
make merry as at a bridal; and those who come not
here to regale their eyes with the sufferings of a brother,
pass carelessly on, chaffer in the market-place, pore over
the page, obey the beck of pleasure, and forget that an-
other black, black seal is added to the degradation of
man, Ah, my Zillah, the end is afar off. I catch no
glimpse of the living waters; my sight grows dim in this
darkness, and my foot is heavy, very heavy.”

‘t Look!” exclaimed Zillah, ‘* the dead man is lowered
to his coffin, and they all throng to look at him; see how
they jostle each other !”

‘““ Ay; and still they laugh and jest! The red drop
is at the heart of every one of them; and they are now
YHE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE. 57

gorging the fiendish principle with blood which they dare
not shed. Let us hence.”

It was with difficulty that the angel and his compa-
nion extricated themselves from the brutal multitude—
men who, seeming to snuff blood afar off, flock to see the
spark of life extinguished on the heart’s altar, and can
be kept back only by high prison walls or the glitter of
the bayonet. But at length they were free, and hastily
did they move away from the scene of retribution and
cruelty.

‘* Alas! for thy lost wings, my angel,” sighed Zillah,

when the frightful din had died away upon the ear.
* “* The Waters of Life are not here,” was the sorrow-
ful reply, ‘‘ not here in the midst of cruelty and blood ;
the heart of man is no better than at the beginning,
and—it is no worse. The doom is not yet written, the
book of good and evil is not yet sealed—how long! how
long !”

Another crowd now obstructed the way, swarming to
an immense edifice, some eager, some careless—trades-
met talking of the common business of the day, lawyers
mooting dubious points in wrangling tones, though usually
with courteous words, boys with shrill voices hawking
their various wares, and the rabble, as ever, jesting, laugh-
ing, and jostlng. Among the crowd were two persons
discussing the execution of that morning.

‘* They hurry the poor wretch into eternity unpre-
pared, as though he were a dog or an ox! It is barba-
rous!” said one.

‘* A relic of the dark ages,” observed his companion ;
‘‘ necessary in the infancy of time, when men were like

of
58 THE ANGEL'S PILGRIMAGE,

the beasts of the field, and could be restrained only by
the strong arm; but that philanthropic and enlightened
statesmen of the nineteenth century” —

His voice was lost to the ear of the angel, who had
pressed on eagerly to catch the sound; for after what he
had beheld that morning, the knowledge that the whole
human race was not intent on blood was grateful to him,

‘* Those men have pity—let us follow them,” he said
to Zillah.

‘‘ But they pity only the red hand,” was the reply ;
“‘ they said nothing of the bloody shroud, and the deso-
late hearth-stone.”

The two pilgrims pressed forward and entered at the
door of a spacious apartment which was crowded to over-
flowing. A row of venerable persons occupied cushioned
seats raised on a kind of dais at the extremity of a large
room. On one side of these sat twelve men in busy con-
ference, and on the other, a goodly number lolled over
tables covered with green baize cloth, some yawning, and
others biting the ends of their feather pens, or fastening
and unfastening them behind their ears. Two dark faces
glowered on each other immediately below the cushioned
seats ; and lower still, in a small square box, a person
leaned forward, balancing on his elbows, and now prying
into one face, and now another, with eyes which the
angel trembled but to look upon. At last the twelve men
rose, and a silence as of death brooded over that vast
multitude. A question was asked by a mild gray-haired
man from the dais, and a deep, heavy voice resounded
throughout the hall of justice, “Nor Guiry.” The
crowd cavght the sound, and peal on peal arose the
THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE. 59

deafening plaudits, the arched roof ringing back the
sound, pausing to catch it again, and then replying, as
though it had been a living voice answering from above.

‘¢ This is a proud triumph,” said a voice beside the
pilgrims.

‘¢ An innocent man, victim to some accident or slander-
ous tongue, doubtless,” returned the angel.

‘‘ No, no; a greater scoundrel never trod the soil!
never.”

‘‘ But he is innocent of this crime.”

‘He is guilty—stranger, guilty ; everything has con-
spired to prove it, and not a man in this room but is
morally convinced of the fact.”

‘¢ How, then, has he escaped ?”

‘¢ By the help of yon lawyer’s quibbles.”

‘‘ A partaker of his crimes, I suppose,” remarked the
angel,

‘He a partaker of his crimes! he, the most honourable
lawyer in the nation!”

‘‘T am a stranger,” remarked the angel, apologeti-
cally ; ‘¢and I would fain know why this honourable man
soils his soul for the sake of the guilty, and why you and
all this multitude rejoice to see crime go out from your
midst free to gather about itself still more filth and black-
ness.”

‘¢ We rejoice in the exercise of mercy,” returned the
stranger, |

‘¢¢Shall man then dare to shiver
The mystic golden bowl ?
Send back unto its Giver
The God-born deathless soul ?
60 fHE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE.

Shall he the frail spark smother,
All earth cannot re-light ?

His weak, sin-heavy brother
Cast from his holier right ?’

‘No, no! we are enlightened people, and the law of
blood is distasteful to us.”

‘Is then the law abolished among you?” inquired the
angel, somewhat anxiously.

‘‘ Not abolished; there are wolves and tigers still in
the land, and they cry for vengeance in the name of the
God of mercy.

‘** Ay, from earth the blood-stained banish,
Snatch away his little time ?
’ Tis noble sure to punish
By copying the crime!
Heap the sods upon his breast,
Crush him down in all his sin !’“—

“Woe, woe to such a bloodthirsty spirit! Thank
God, however, that the murderous iron rule is gradually
yielding to the voice of mercy, and the law of love is pre-
vailing. ‘ God is love.’”

‘* God is just!” echoed the angel, as he turned to de-
part.

‘* They disobey the express command of the Almighty,
given before the framing of the nations,” said Zillah,
‘‘ and bring an attribute of his own holy character as an
excuse,”

‘Their justice is cruel and heartless,” answered the
angel, ‘‘ and their mercy is weak and wicked. Love and
Justice wait hand in hand before the Great White Throne ;
THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE. 61

but these men cannot link them together, for their eyes
are darkened, and heavy clouds are gathered about their
souls. We need not search further, Zillah.”

‘* Nay, a little longer—a little longer,” pleaded the
soft voice; ‘ perchance they have a treasure, a talisman,
a seed of good which we have not yet discovered. I feel
that this distorted law of love has grown out of a holy
principle which may even now be swelling and bursting
from the rubbish. I will follow thee no longer, my
angel, for my heart is sick and my foot weary; but tread
thou these fearful paths, search thou for the hidden foun-
tain, and when thou hast gained a sprinkling of its waters,
fly to me and tell me time has ended. It is here, it is
somewhere here. I feel its life-giving presence.”

For many days and nights the angel wandered in dark
dens of wickedness, his purer nature quivering and
shrinking at the sounds of blasphemy. His foot followed
in the track of the crouching, prowling assassin; his ear
listened to the voice of the midnight robber ; the thief
brushed him as he crossed his path, and the vile, the
polluted of every grade, passed before his eyes like so many
demons of the pit. The air grew heavy with sin, and
clogged his breath ; his frame drooped, for there was a
weight upon it far heavier than fatigue could cast ; even
the rays of the sun struggled and grew ghastly in such
pollution, and the stars seemed red and blegged.

Then he turned to brighter scenes, scenes on which
the sun dared shine, not indeed in his first purity, clear
and soft like the light of Paradise, but with a wild bril-
liance, which, while it dazzled the eyes, and withered the
young plants that the dews neglected to visit, bore yet a
62 THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE,

fair promise of seed-time and harvest, day and night, to
the hearts of men.

But even here was the villain’s heart mantled in hy-
pocrisy ; here prowled the disguised wolf; here towered
the beauitful marble above reeking bones and the foul
mould of Death. In this brave light Revenge stalked up
and down, an honourable and an honoured guest. Here
Avarice spread a yellow crust upon the heart, which
burned in, and seared, and grew thicker, and gnawed at
every chord that might have sounded a tuneful cadence,
still increased in thickness till there was no power to
resist ii from within; and then from the fearful gan-
grene sprang a brood of crimes, all veiled indeed, all
proper and legal, which made the angel recoil as from the
less refined but scarce blacker ones that swarmed the
dens he had left. Here too lurked fair Envy smiling and
flattering, until she could place her foot upon the victim’s
head, and then down! crush! crush!—no pity, no re-
morse. Nay; why should mortal head dare rise higher
than hers! Among flowers of the richest fragrance and
brightest hue coiled Scandal; and when her serpent hiss
rose upon the air, the flowers drooped, and their per-
fume was mingled with her noisome breath.

‘Tt is all in vain—all in vain!” sighed the angel, as
he returned again to his companion. ‘ The heart of
man remainsgthe same as when this now degraded hand
wielded the sword which guarded the gate of Eden ;
dark thoughts, violent. passions, wicked imaginings, all
lurk within him, all are fostered and cherished in his
bosom. And yet, my Zillah, there is something, or the
foreshadowing of something—a veiled star, a pale light
THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE. 63

fringing the cloud, a low murmur as from the concealed
fountain, a breath of pure air ever and anon stirring the
seared leaves, and passing over the pulses of my soul.
There is something, Zillah, which had well nigh made me
hear the rustle of my own wings, and fixed my eyes on
Paradise. I cannot tell what it is, but I feel it—I feel
it.”

‘Even so do I,” returned the fair Zillah ; “* and for
that was it that I chose this spot. I have builded me
an altar, and here, my angel, have I worshipped while
thou has been seeking.”

‘I have sought in vain—all in vain,” returned the
angel mournfully ; ‘* Oh! when will the end be?”

‘** And then shall the end come!’” answered a deep
melodious voice, which made Zillah start, and the angel
open his large, mild, mournful eyes in wonder.

The figure that stood beside them might have risen from
the shivering piles of withered leaves which the wantoning
night-wind had thrown up in heaps along the plain; or
shaped itself from the mist that dangled in long gray
wreaths from the tops of chimneys, hovered in great sha-
dowy wings around silent windows, or rolled up, fold on
fold, like an ominous curtain from the reeking earth. It
was that of a man, but not such as walk the world in mo-
dern times, His beard was parted upon the lip, and
descended, a mass of waving silver, to the girdle ; and
long floating locks, like the snow in whiteness, shaded his
scarce wrinkled brow, beneath which looked out a pair of
eyes as soft, mild, blue and dewy, as the sky of a summer
evening. The angel felt his heart irresistibly drawn
back to the time when he was sinless, for there was some-
64 THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE.

thing pure and spirit-like upon the face of the stranger,
which, though it lacked the loftiness of a brother angel,
was yet so beautiful, so meek, and so full of love, that the
highest seraph would scarce have lost by the exchange.
He was evidently old, very old; but it was such age as
the father of our race might have exhibited, when eight
centuries had passed over him and left him still unscathed.
His voice was deep, strong, and mellifluous ; his eye un-
dimmed ; his cheek full, though lacking somewhat the
roundness of youth; his lip ruddy, his frame muscular
and erect, and his foot firm. Still he was old—that
could not be doubted; but Time had never touched him
with palsied finger ; no blight had reached sinew, or brain,
or heart, and every year that had passed over him had
brought new strength and vigour.

*** And then shall the end come!’” he repeated in
fervid tones; while a deep enthusiasm kindled in every |
feature a voiceless eloquence.

‘¢ When, father ?” inquired the angel reverently.

‘¢ ‘When the commandment shall have been obeyed,—
when the work is accomplished ””—

‘¢ What commandment? what work? Are we to
search? to dig? If thou knowest where this fountain
flows, tell me, oh, tell me! I will climb the most inac-
cessible rock, I will penetrate the cave where sleeps the
deadliest miasma, with my single hand I will open a
passage to the core of the earth—only tell me where to
seek, and I will ask no more.”

The stranger fixed a wondering and yet benign glance
upon the perturbed countenance of the angel. ‘+ And
dost thou not know ?”
THE ANGEL'S PILGRIMAGE. 65

‘No, no; but tell me, and I will bless thee for ever !”

‘¢ Nay, bless Him—Him! Surely thou hast heard of
the Glorious Ransom ?” ’

“ I have heard,” whispered the angel, in deep awe,
“ but it was THERE ; and even our harps and voices were
silent. I dare not speak of that where the air is so heavy
with the weight of earth’s defilements. And it can never
come to me.”

“To thee! there is not a human being”—

‘ Nay, nay, old man ; thou dost not understand thine
own words, But tell me of the end. I see something
upon thy forehead unlike the brand of thy miserable race,
and I think the golden secret lies in thy bosom. I would
fain know when this weary pilgrimage will be finished.”

The venerable ancient fixed his penetrating eye for a
moment on his companion, whispering to himself, ‘¢ And
he too! it cannot be! I thought myself alone !” and
then, evidently puzzled, though more than pleased to
recite a story in which his whole soul was interested, he
commenced—

‘« Kighteen hundred years ago Rome was at the height
of her glory. All the principal nations of the earth owned
her sway and gloried in their bondage. ‘The redder
forms of tyranny had departed. ‘The brow of Octavius
Augustus was mild beneath his crown ; while under the
patronage of the wise Mecenas, and by the taper of Gre-
cian genius, the loftiest forms of art were born and flou-
rished. ‘The voice of eloquence sounded in the forum ;
the flowers of poesy budded and blossomed in palace and
in cot; life sprang from the silent marble ; the canvass

glowed, and Philosophy linked arms with Pleasure, and
E
66 THE ANGEL’s PILGRIMAGE,

wandered about her sacred groves, or dallied in her luxu-
rious gardens, But He was not a Roman. On her proud
brow the Queen of the Nations wore the half-crushed
chaplet of Grecian liberty; a beautiful wreath dropping
with the matchless perfume which still lingers around her
broken columns and crumbling arches, around the spiri-
tual ideal breathing in the creations of her artists, and
around the graves of her philosophers, her poets, and her
statesmen. But He was not of Greece. In one proud
hand Rome held a jewel unequalled in gorgeousness, a
golden lotus gathered from the banks of the Nile, and
now crimsoned by the blood of the beautiful and perfi-
dious Cleopatra ; and in the other she clasped a rude but
strong and valuable chain, whose rough links bore the
names of Gaul, Germany, and Switzerland. But Hz came
from none of these.

‘* The mistress of the world felt quivering beneath her
sandalled foot, and pressed more closely as it quivered, a
strange nation, with strange laws, strange customs, and a
strange religion ; despised alike by the Roman, the Greek,
and the Egyptian; small in territory, divided within itself,
weak in arms, and learned but in its own laws. This was
the once favoured nation of the Jews, Jerusalem, fallen,
degraded, enslaved, still bore some traces of ancient
splendour. There stood the Holy Temple, though dese-
crated by Mammon ; the children of the prophets still
gathered in their synagogues; and the proud Pharisee
swept in his fringed garments from the council-chamber
to the altar, lounged on rich cushions, and quaffed the
blood of the grape from goblets of massive gold and richly
chased silver. But Hx claimed not his home in Jerusalem,
THE ANGEL'S PILGRIMAGE. 67

In Galilee, m despised, contemned Galilee, and not its
fairest city—not Capernaum, not Cana—but in poor,
mean, hated, contemptible Nazareth—there sprang the
Fountain of life ; there, from that dark, unknown corner,
from that smallest, most degraded city of the most de-
graded quarter of the earth, Hx, the Mighty One, the
King of Glory, walked forth, and named himself the Son
of Man, the Saviour of a fallen, helpless, miserable race.”

‘¢ I know Him—I know Him,” murmured the angel,
bending his knee and shading his brow with his hand.
‘‘ Go on,” he added after a moment’s pause; “* go on;
tell me more; it cannot reach me, but—my poor Zillah !
—tell me all.”

‘‘ He sought meanness of origin and poverty, not be-
cause there was virtue in these, but for the sake of the
lowly poor,” continued the stranger, his cheek glowing
and his eye lighting excitement of his theme. ‘“‘ His
mother was the betrothed bride of a poor carpenter ; his
cradle was in a stable—His, the sovereign Prince of the
Universe! But a choir of angels came to rouse the earth
to sing his welcome; a new star was set upon the brow
of night, and in its light the magii of the East, the philo-
sophers of the Persian court, bent in worship to the clay-
shrined God; and a haughty monarch so trembled in
his kingly purple, when he heard of the obscure infant,
that hundreds of tiny graves were opened, each stained
by the blood of the helpless and moistened by a mother’s
tears.”

“Go on! go on!” whispered the angel.

‘¢ The humble Nazarene put on the tasselled robe of a
teacher ; but he turned not to the palace for his disciples,
68 . THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE.

nor lingered he by the proud door of the Sanhedrim. He
wandered by the lone Galilean lake; he sought those
places where men never look for honour, calling the un-
lettered and the lowly to his side; the ignorant fisherman
from his nets, and the despised publican from his scrip :
and yet this obscure man, with these humble followers,
stirred at once proud, pompous J ewry to her centre.
He toiled and suffered, toiled and suffered, and wept,
and then he died, as none but malefactors ever died
before.”

The old man paused in his story, as though too much
agitated to proceed; while the angel echoed in mingled
awe and surprise, ‘‘ He died! He could not die!”

‘‘ Hle—he was borne to his sepulchre,” continued the
meek ancient ; ‘‘ but the grave could not hold the Son of
God. He died for us, he rose for us, and he waits us at
the right hand of his Father.”

There was a long, unbroken, almost breathless silence,
—Zillah bending forward in meek awe, her brow pressed
to the altar, the face of the angel buried reverentially in
his folded arms, and the patriarch standing with upraised
eye and clasped hands, his face glowing with love and
rapture,

‘‘ And the ransomed—when will He call them home?”
at last the angel inquired.

‘They drop into the grave at morning, in the blaze
of day, and at midnight ; every eur, every moment—
even now, while we speak, some freed spirit is passing,
and there are snowy wings that hover at the portal of
death to bear it away to Paradise.”

‘‘ But when will He call all? when will the end be?”
inquired the angel, with tremulous eagerness.

*
THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE. 69

‘‘ Thou wouldst know when will arise the cry of the
angel, ‘ Thrust in thy sharp sickle, and gather the ~—
of the vine of the earth; for her grapes are fully ripe.’
But futurity has the secret hidden deep in the folds of
her misty robes, and neither man nor angel may rob her
of the treasure. Yet, my son, I can give thee the key,
and if ”—

Quick! quick!”

“He told us—He—He taught.’ The old man
paused, composed his features, and resumed: “ To those
disciples called from the wayside, from the boat of the
fisherman and lowly roof of the labourer, rude, unlettered,
and of no repute among men, whose hands had never
touched the soft palm of the Pharisee, and whose voices
had learned to tremble and falter in such an august pre-
sence—to these lowest of the sons of this world, He con-
fided the wealth of heaven, such rare jewels of truth as
never before glittered beneath the stars; and these
humble, unknown men He commissioned to bear their
treasures to all the nations of the earth. At Jerusalem
they began, and tower and temple trembled to their deep
foundations, ‘Thence they scattered their living pearls
over hill and vale, far and wide, wherever the foot of
man had trodden or lay the stain of sin.

‘‘ Even Grecian philosophy bent her polished ear when
a follower of the Crucified stood in one of the proudest
courts of Athens, and Epicurean and Stoic were alike
confounded by the simple but sublime eloquence of truth.
Rome, too, proud Rome acknowledged the still small
voice which had stolen up from far Nazareth ; but when she
strove to honour it with purple and crimson, the voice died

“sr
s

“t
70 THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE.

among the caves and dens of the wilderness; the jewel
receded from her grasp while she placed its blazing
semblance on her forehead ; and all Europe bowed the
knee to the falsehood. But while in the name of the
crucified Nazarene, who trod the earth in sadness and
dishonour, the princes of the earth drew the lance, and
knight and noble paved the way to his own emolument ;
while war and carnage ran riot throughout Christendom,
and Jew and Saracen were taught to despise the religion
which turned men into beasts of prey and deformed the
face of creation ; from distant caves and lowly valleys the
meek voice of prayer still arose, and still the casket of
the jewels of truth was the human heart. Through the
red blood flowing at the mandate of Egyptian priest and
Roman pontiff; through the crevices of the rocks of
Switzerland, the hidden nooks environing the valley of
Piedmont, the republican plains of Germany, and the
wild, picturesque mountains of Scotland; through wrong
without ruth, through the dungeon and the rack, through
bloody knife and blazing faggot, these jewels of truth,
these Waters of Life, have been borne ””—

‘And now! where are they now?” interrupted the
angel, with almost vehement earnestness.

“Dost thou see yon church-spire, piercing the gray
mist, and glittering in the one pale ray which the moon
sheds from her veiled throne? Go thither and love, and
raise thy wings heavenward. Or here,”’ lifting the folds
of his robe and disclosing a small volume; ‘here the
Waters spring ; here the Tree of Life flourishes, Search |
thou wilt find its blossoms on every page.”’

“Not for me! Alas! not or me!” murmured the
THE ANGEL'S PILGRIMAGE. 71

angel; while Zillah, raising her forehead from the altar
where it had rested, and extending her hands, eagerly
exclaimed, ‘‘For me! for me! to fit me for the day
when thy wings, my angel, shall be full of glory that we
may mount together to the throne of the Eternal. But,
father, I would fain know when that may be. We are
to tread the earth until that hour.”

‘‘ And I,’”’ returned the ancient, ‘‘have the same pil-
grimage before me.”

‘¢ But when, oh when shall it be accomplished ? ”

‘‘ Not until every altar like this thou hast reared shall
be cast down.”

Zillah raised a startled eye to the face of the patriarch,
and cast herself precipitately before the altar.

‘‘ What! have I not told thee that the Great Sacrifice
has been offered, and may not my testimony be believed ?
Did I not stand beside the cross, and, while bidden to
tarry till a second coming, see the sinless victim bleed?
What wouldst thou more? Canst thou not make the
sacrifice thine own? Faith and love alone are required of
thee—wilt thou not believe ? ”

Zillah remained still meekly bending before the altar,
but her thoughts had risen far above it. The light of
truth was slowly breaking over her countenance, illumi-
nating each feature with a deep, subdued enthusiasm,
till the frail, beautiful daughter of earth seemed to bear
more traces of heaven than the exiled angel.

“‘ Every false altar must be cast down,” continued the
ancient; ‘the commandment must be obeyed; the
Fountain of Life must gush forth in the midst of every
people ; the jewels of truth, borne through suffermg and
72 THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE.

blood till nearly half the world acknowledges their beauty,
must be scattered freely over every portion of the globe,
and far above the standards of the nations must float the
banner of the Crucified—He that was God, was man,
and is the God of glory henceforth and for ever. The
mighty work intrusted to us at that holy parting moment
must be accomplished, ‘and then shall the end come.’ ”

‘‘T too will go forth upon this holy mission,” said
Zillah, bowing her head meekly ; ‘‘ perchance my weak
hand may be blest, since to all that share in the salvation
has the sweet work been intrusted.” |

‘‘And I cannot loiter here,” returned the angel,
‘though I have forfeited my right to be in any way a
ministering spirit to the race. Go thou, my Zillah, and
I will hover in thy footsteps, I will nurse the flowers thou
lovest, and scatter their perfume in thy pathway, When
evil is near, I will shield thy loved head. I will watch by
thy side during the remainder of this fearful night ; and
when the morning at last dawns, thou shalt know its ap-
proach by the ray which falls upon thy angel’s renovated
pinions. To the work, my Zillah; it is one which will
ennoble even thee,” |

The mild old man smiled; and I almost fancied that I
saw something stirring at the side of the angel, as though
every fresh consecration of ransomed mortal brought
nearer the hour of triumph; and then the entire vision
vanished.

I was leaning from my window as an hour previous ;
but the little girl stood no longer upon the bridge, and
Strawberry Hill and the hoary gld trees above it were
slumbering in soft summer shadows. The moon, now a
THE ANGEL’S PILGRIMAGE. 73

soft silver crescent, had climbed far up her azure path-
way, and lay a sweet smile upon the face of the sky, and
the earth was smiling back a beautiful response in every
dew-drop. For a moment I thought the creatures of my
drama were about me, but in the next I knew that Zillah
and her angel were born of the wildest fiction; and that
the ashes of the beloved disciple, if not mingled with the
farthest elements, still slept at Ephesus. But much, very
much, had mingled in my thoughts in which dreaming
had no part. And as I carefully separated the threads
of fiction that had entangled themselves in the richer woof
of truth, I longed to exclaim, in the words of my fabulous
Zillah, ‘I too will go forth upon this holy mission |”
LILIAS FANE.

AxoutT five miles from Alderbrook there is a handsome
red school-house, with a portico in front, shaded by an
immense butternut ; white window-shutters to keep out
rogues at night, but of no use at all during the day ; and
a handsome cupola, in which is a bell of sufficient power
to be heard, particularly on still days, all over the dis-
trict. This specimen of architecture, being intended to
serve the double purpose of church and school-house, is
the pride of the little community; and, indeed, it well
may be, for there is not its equal in the whole country
round. When the school-house was first built, the neigh-
bours all resolved to support a ‘first-rate school ;” and
for many years they employed teachers who came well re-
commended, and claimed a large salary. Squire Mason
said no pains were spared,—everything was done that
man could do; yet, somehow, no teacher seemed to give
general satisfaction ; and so many left, either in indigna-
tion or disgrace, that ‘‘ the Mason school” gained the re-
putation of being the most ungovernable in the county.
If truth must be told, this was not without reason; for
people who build new school-houses must, of course, listen
to new doctrines, and most of the families in ‘‘ the Mason

,district” had imbibed somewhat extensively the notions
% »

_9&
LILIAS FANE. 75

prevalent among reformers of the present day, who think
that Solomon was only joking when he recommended the
rod. At last, after some renegade youngsters had sum-
marily dismissed, with a broken head, a dark, square-
shouldered, piratical looking man, who, in a fit of despe-
ration, had been chosen for his enormous strength, people
became quite discouraged, and the principal meny of the
district, old farmer Westborn, Mr Martin, and Squire
Mason, called a meeting to discuss affairs. Some pro-
posed whipping all the boys round, and commencing a
new school; others thought it best to shut up the house
entirely, and set the young rebels to cutting wood ; while
Mr Martin was of opinion that if some af the ‘ worst
ones ” could be kept at home, there would be no diffi-
culty with the rest. Upon this hint others spake ; and
the meeting at last decided on obtaining a female teacher
to take charge of the little ones, the “ big boys ” being
entirely voted out. Squire Mason himself had a son who
was considered a “rollicking blade,” up to all sorts of
mischief; and of the half-dozen shock-headed Westborns,
there was not one that had failed to give the former mas-
ter blow for blow. Affairs were, however, now to assume
a calmer aspect ; and the meeting proceeded forthwith
to appoint a school-committee, consisting of Mr Martin,
who had no children of his own, and was consequently ex-
pected to take a great interest in those of his neighbours ;
Mr Fielding, a quiet bachelor of thirty-five or thereabout;
and one or two others, who were selected for the sake of
making the numbers strong, and not for anything that they
were expected to do. ‘The principal duty of the acting
part of the committee was to obtain a teacher ; but they

‘es
os
76 LILIAS FANE.

were also to manage all other affairs thereunto pertain-
ing.

Luckily a lady had been recommended to Mr Martin,
during the preceding autumn, as a perfect prodigy ; and,
as our school-committee men were quiet sort of people,
who did not like to make unnecessary trouble, a letter,
superscribed ‘* Miss Lilias Fane,” was thrown into the
post-office box, which, in due time, brought as favourable
an answer as could be desired.

It was a cold stormy morning in December, when the
public stage-coach set down the new school-mistress at
the door of Mr Martin’s house. A bundle of cloaks and
blankets rolled from the opened door into the hands of
the good deacon, who was obliged to support, indeed
almost to carry, an invisible form into the house, where
his good dame stood ready to divest it of all unneces-
sary incumbrances. At first, a large blanket was re-
moved, then muff and cloak, and yet shawl, hood, and
veil remained; and Mrs Martin could not help con-
jecturing how precious must be the nut which way
blessed with so much shell. The task of untying strings
and removing pins being accomplished, a volume of flaxen
ringlets descended over a pair of tiny white shoulders,
and a soft blue eye stole timidly from its silken ambush
up to the face of Mrs Martin ; but meeting no sympathy
there, it retreated behind the drooping lid; and little
Miss Fane, blushing up to the pretty flaxen waves that just
shaded her forehead, smiled, and curtsied, and then
crouched by the blazing fire like a petted kitten. Mrs
Martin retreated involuntarily ; and Mr Martin parted his
lips, drew up his eye-brows, and shrugged his shoulders,
LILIAS FANE, 77

between astonishment and contempt. What! that child
assume the duties and responsibilities of a school-teacher,
and, above all, in such a school! Why, Susan Harman
could put her out of the door with one hand, and the
very littlest boy overmaster her. ‘There sat the new
schoolmistress, and there stood the deacon and his dame,
gazing at her, perfectly speechless, when Mr Fielding
drove up to the door; it being considered his especial
duty to introduce new teachers, and particularly lady
teachers, to the school-house. Now the bachelor had
some very fine notions of tall, elegant figures, and digni-
fied manners ; indeed, he had a rule for everything, step-
ping, looking, and even thinking ; and consequently, he
was taken quite by surprise when his eye first lighted on
the unpretending little schoolmistress. Her figure was
slight, and exceedingly fragile, and her face the very per-
fection of infantile sweetness. This was all that Mr
Fielding had an opportunity to observe, as she stood before
him in graceful confusion, replying to his very formal
salutation, and answering his still more formal questions
about the weather, the state of the roads, and the time
of her arrival. 'The bachelor, however, was confident
that Miss Fane was a very incompetent school-teacher ;
and Miss Fane was quite as confident that the bachelor
was a very incompetent beau. First, he gave her what
the little lady considered an impertinent stare, as a
school-committee-man has a right to do; then he made
a great many commonplace remarks, as a man that
wishes to appear very dignified will do; and then he
desired to see Mr Martin in private, as a man when he
wishes to let you know that he is about to discuss your
78 LILIAS FANE.

character should do. Poor Lilias Fane! with all her
simplicity she was not deficient in discernment, and she
felt piqued at the manners of the people, particularly Mr
Fielding, whose real superiority she instantly detected,
despite of the clumsy awkwardness behind which he
managed to hide himself, So, tossing back her sunny
curls, and calling for hood and shawi, in spite of all Mrs
Martin’s entreaties to the contrary, she was half-way to
the school-house before the gentlemen decided that they
could do nothing less than give her a trial. It was
with the utmost surprise that the bachelor heard of the
flight of his bonny bird; for he was the greatest man in
the district, and every one was but too much delighted
to gain his notice. He owned a fine cottage close by
the Maple Grove, with beautiful grounds about it, and
every elegance that wealth could command and taste dic-
tate within; and there he resided, with his mother and
a little nephew, in very enviable quiet. It was evident
that his knowledge of the world was thorough, and he
had probably, at some period of his life, taken a part in
its tumult ; but the retirement of private life best suited
him, and he had for several years buried the most per-
fect specimen of a gentleman of the old school extant
among the rural luxuries of Grove Cottage. Here, how-
ever, none of the punctilios, on which he set so high a
value, were omitted, for he was too thoroughly a gentle-
man to throw aside the character when behind the scenes ;
and all honoured him for his strict integrity, as well as
' intellectual superiority. Mr Fielding had not a particle
of misanthropy in his composition ; so, notwithstanding a
secret touch of exclusive feeling, arising probably from a
LILIAS FANE. 79

vonsciousness of possessing but little in common with
those around him, he mingled with the people of the
neighbourhood as though nothing but a certain degree of
coldness and personal dignity prevented him from being
on a perfect equality with them; and he exhibited so
much real interest in all that concerned their welfare,
that he possessed their entire confidence.

When Mr Fielding learned that the little lady had
gone away alone, he looked surprised ; but recollecting
how bashful she had appeared when standing in his august
presence, he at once saw the matter in a more pleasing
light ; so, calling on Mr Martin to bestow his burly cor-
pus in the seat intended for pretty Lilias Fane, the two
committee-men proceeded leisurely toward the school-
house.

In the meantime poor Lilias was trudging through the
snow, her nether lip pouting after the most approved
style of angry beauties, and her little heart throbbing with
a variety of contending emotions, none of which were ac-
tually pleasurable, except the one excited by a little pile
of silver which she saw in prospect—the fruit of her own
labour. At thought of this, she brushed away the tear
that sparkled on her lashes, and, drawing up her slight
figure with an air of determination, stepped boldly and
decidedly into the portico, and placed her hand on the
latch of the door. ‘This done, she paused ; the little
heart, but a moment before so resolute, fluttered tumul-
tuously ; the head drooped, the eyes brimmed over, and
the fingers extended so firmly, now quivered with agita-
tion. Poor Lilias Fane! what would she not have given
80 LILIAS FANE.

to feel her mother’s arms about her, and weep on her
sympathizing bosom ?

Farmer Westborn, and Squire Mason, and the rest of
the school-meeting men, were in earnest when they decid-
ed that the ‘‘ big boys” should not be allowed to attend
school ; but they had been in earnest a great many times
before ; so the boys knew perfectly well what it meant,
and were now on hand, preparing for the reception of the
new teacher. Little did poor Lilias Fane imagine what
stout hearts awaited her entrance, or her courage would
not have been prompt to return; but the thought of
home, her widowed mother, and helpless little brothers
and sisters, in connection with the all-important salary,
nerved her up. Again she erected her head and wiped
away the tears ; then, throwing open the door, she walk-
ed quietly and firmly into the room. What a spectacle!
children of all sizes, from the little aproned chap, hardly
yet from the cradle, up to the height of the new school-
mistress, and youths towering far above her, in almost the
pride of manhood, turned their faces toward the door,
and stood gaping in silent astonishment. There were
Susan Harman, and Sally Jones, and Nabby Woods, all
older than the schoolmistress, and several others who
were larger ; and at the extremity of the room stood Al-
fred Mason, a man in size if not in form, surrounded by
the six shock-headed Westborns, Bill Blount, Philip Clute,
and Nehemiah Strong, all school rowdies of the first wa-
ter. Well might they stare, for such a vision never met
their eyes before ; and well might bright Lilias smile at
the looks of wonder that greeted her at every turn. A
smile, if it is a perfectly natural one, full of mirthfulness,

4
LILIAS FANE. 81

and slightly spiced with mischief, is the best of all pass-
ports to a young heart ; and not a face was there in the
whole room but caught the infection, and answered with
a bashful grin the twinkle of the little maiden’s eye and
the curl of her lip. Oh! sadly did naughty Lilias com-
promise the dignity of the schoolmistress ; but what she
lost in one respect was more than made up in another.
Nabby Woods went about brushing the slippery dried
peas from the floor, lest the smiling fairy of a new school-
dame should be made their victim, as had been duly
planned for a week beforehand ; and Philip Clute, first
glancing at Alfred Mason for approbation, stepped awk-
wardly forward and put a whole chair in the place of the
broken one that had been stationed before the desk for the
benefit of the new teacher ; thus making himself the first
to receive her cheerful salutation. Philip had never been
known to shrink before birchin rod or cherry ferule ; but
Lilias Fane, with her merry blue eye and face full of kind-
ness and gentleness, half-hidden in the mirthful dimples
which played over it—sweet Lilias Fane was a different
thing. She could not be looked upon with indifference,
and poor Philip twisted himself into as many shapes as a
cloud-wreath in a tempest, or a captured eel, and turned
as red as the blood-beets in his father’s cellar. On pass-
ed the bright-faced Lilias around the room, nodding to
one, smiling to another, and addressing some cheerful
remark to those who seemed a little afraid of her, until
she reached the group over which the redoubtable Mason
presided. By this time she had gained all hearts; for
hadn’t she said we, when talking to the “big girls,” as

though she didn’t feel herself a bit above them? and
F
82 LILIAS FANE.

hadn’t she patted the heads of the younger ones with
her pretty little hand, in a way which proved beyond the
possibility of a doubt that she was a decided enemy to
hairpulling? Alfred Mason had seen it all; and to prove
to the new schoolmistress that he was a little superior to
the Westborns & Co., he advanced three steps and made
a bow as much like Mr Fielding’s as he could. This
done, he passed his fingers through his shining black hair,
twitched his shirt-collar, and elevated head and shoulders
after a very manly fashion, as though silently resolving
not to be afraid of anything this side of fairy land, though
appearing in the shape of a Titania herself. But be-
witching, roguish, naughty Miss Fane did bewilder him
notwithstanding ; for having always considered himself a
rascally scape-grace of a boy, bound to do as much mis-
chief as he could, he suddenly found himself transformed
into a man; and a beautiful creature, with a child’s
blushes and a woman’s smiles, asking him questions in
the most respectful tone, hoping that she should be se-
conded by the young gentlemen before her in all her
efforts, and insinuating, very gracefully and very sweetly,
how much she relied upon them for success in her present
undertaking. The smile, the tone of voice, the manner,
combined with the flattering address, were perfectly ir-
resistible ; and Alfred Mason, after perpetrating another
bow, addressed a few whispered words to his companions,
and walked away to aseat. His example was immediate-
ly followed by the whole school, and Miss Fane was left
standing in the midst of subjects as loyal as any sovereign
would care to reign over, At this agreeable crisis the
door opened, and it may well be believed that in every
LILIAS FANE. 83

dimple of Lilias Fane’s young face lurked a roguish smile,
as her eye lighted on Mr Fielding and Mr Martin.
The bachelor observed it, and he was “the least bit in the
world” disconcerted, while Mr Martin raised his eye-brows
and shrugged his shoulders more emphatically than ever,
but not contemptuously. If the two committee-men
had been astonished before, they were doubly so now;
and it was with a much more respectful air than he had
at first assumed, that Mr Fielding saluted the little lady,
and apologized for his previous neglect.

‘You have undertaken avery heavy task, Miss
Fane,” he remarked, in a tone which, from the proxi-
mity of the audience on the seats, was necessarily low,
and thus seemingly confidential.

‘thoughtless Lilias! she shook her head and smiled.
“Tt is a dreadful responsible station,” chimed in Mr
Martin.

A shade of seriousness flitted over the face of Lilias,
and then she smiled again.

‘Qur school is considered a very difficult one,” ob-
served the bachelor.

“I apprehend no difficulty at all,” Lilias replied, in a
tone of gaiety.

‘But, Miss Fane,” persisted Mr Martin, “it is my
duty to undeceive you as to the character of our school.”
Still the little lady smiled confidently. ,

“Very difficult to manage, I can assure you,” added
the bachelor.

Lilias glanced around the room with a triumphant,
incredulous air, as much as to say, ‘‘ It seems to me just
the easiest thing in the world,” (the saucy little gipsy:)
84 LILIAS FANE.

—but she did not say it. Her only reply was to beg
the privilege of consulting two such able advisers, should
she chance to meet with unexpected difficulties. Mr
Martin received the compliment graciously, not probably
observing a touch of sarcasm, more discoverable in the
dancing blue eye than in the voice; but Mr Fielding
looked displeased, bowed stiffly, and, after a few formal
words, took his leave, followed by Mr Martin.

‘¢ T shouldn’t wonder,” remarked the latter, after they
were a little way off, —‘‘ I shouldn’t wonder if this little
Miss Fane made a pretty good teacher after all. It’s
wonderful that the children should be so orderly this
morning.”

Mr Fielding gave his head a twitch, something be-
tween a shake and a nod, and looked knowing. It was
evident that he could say a great deal if he chose. This
non-committal movement is Wisdom’s favourite cloak; and
so much in vogue is it, that it sometimes even passes
current when the cloaked is missing.

For that day at least Lilias Fane was happy. She
smiled and was smiled upon. And she began to think it
was just the pleasantest thing in the world to be the pre-
siding genius of such a place, exercising uncontrolled
power, dispensing smiles and sunshine at will, beloved
and loving. But her day of darkness was to come.
Scarce a week had passed before there were indications
of a revolt among some of her subjects; and she was
alarmed to find that there were difficulties which a smile
and a loving word could not heal. At home, her dear
delightful home, she had been taught to believe them a
universal balm—oil for the wildest wave, a hush for the

,
LILIAS FANE. 85

deadliest tempest. But yet, never was schoolmistress
idolized like darling Lilias Fane. Even the hearts of the
Westborns began to melt beneath the glances of her
beaming eye, and Alfred Mason was her never-failing
friend and champion. Poor AlfMason! Sad was the
reputation he bore in the district ; and nobody would
believe he was in earnest when he behaved properly; but
he was in reality more given to mirth than malice, fonder
of fun than real mischief—and he could see no fun at all
in annoying sweet Miss Fane, But she was annoyed
nevertheless, not so much by her pupils, as by remarks
which were constantly reaching her concerning her youth,
inexperience, and consequent inefficiency. It was said
that see was a child among the children ; and so she was,
but how could she help it—the bright pet Lilias! Scarce
sixteen summers had burnished her fair locks, and her
heart was full of childish impulses. It was said that
she had no dignity of manner, and stood among her pu-
pils as one of them—faults which she was but too con-
scious of possessing. As well might you look for dignity
in a humming-bird or a fawn, as in Lilias Fane—the
darling! She loved her pupils dearly, and could not
but betray her interest. She had too many sympathies
in common with them to stand aloof in joy or sorrow ;
and in the loved and the loving. were merged the teacher
and the taught. It was even said that her voice had
been known to mingle in the merry shout that sometimes
arose from the school-room; and there must have been
some truth in the report ; for her pupils could not have
had the heart to laugh when she was serious. In truth,
Lilias Fane was a strange teacher ; though she may have
86 LILIAS FANE.

taught the lore most needed—those heart-lessons, richer
than all the theories of all the schools united. In her
other lessons she was capricious. She taught what she
loved, and that she made her pupils love ; but what was
dry and difficult she passed over, as in studying she had
been allowed to do by her too indulgent governess. Yet
she was unwearied in her efforts, and never thought of
self when the good of her pupils was concerned ; and so,
despite the faults in her system of education, her school
made rapid improvement. But no degree of improve-
ment was sufficient to satisfy those who detected these
faults; and soon the war of words ran high for and
against the poor schoolmistress, whose only offences were
too much beauty, too immature youth, and a too kind
heart. These things could not occur without Miss Fane's
knowledge ; for her young friends, in their mistaken zeal,
repeated every word to her, and she (poor simple-hearted _
child!) was undignified to listen to their representations,
and receive their expressions of sympathy. They were
all the friends she had. Thus passed one-third of Lilias
Fane’s term of service in alternate storm and sunshine,
till at last farmer Westborn took a decided step ; and,
in spite of young shock-heads’ remonstrances, removed all
of his six children from school. Sad was the face poor
Lilias Fane exhibited on this occasion; and all of her
flock were sad from sympathy. Looks, some of sorrow,
and some of indignation, were exchanged among the
elder pupils; and the younger ones gazed in silent won-
der on the flushed face and tearful eye of her who, never-
theless, would now and then give them a smile, from sheer
habit. At last the day ended, and sad, and low, and
LILIAS FANE. 87

kinder even than usual, were the good-nights of the
sympathizing group, as, one by one, they disappeared
through the door, till the poor little school-mistress was

left alone ; and then she covered her face with her hands
and wept.

‘“¢ T wouldn’t mind it, Miss Fane,” said a timid but
sympathizing voice close by her ear.

“ How can I help it, Alfred?” asked weeping Lilias,
without raising her head; ‘‘Mr Westborn must have a
sad opinion of me, or he never —”

‘Mr Westborn is a fool! the meanest man —”

“© Alfred 1”

‘¢ You don’t know him, Miss Fane, or you would say
so too. But don’t cry any more—don’t ; come over and
see Mary—you have true friends, Miss Fane—you—
they —” and here Alfred stopped short; for, although
particularly anxious to console Miss Fane, he seemed to
be suffering under a most painful embarrassment. The
gentle, indeed touching tone of voice was not lost on poor
Lilias ; although there seemed to be some reason why she
should not listen to it ; for she raised her head, and, with
more calmness than she could have been expected to com-
mand, replied, ‘‘ You are very kind, Alfred, and I thank
you, but —”

‘‘T understand you, Miss Fane,” interrupted the
youth, somewhat proudly; “‘ kindness should not be too
obtrusive.”

‘© No, Alfred, you mistake me. I prize the sympathy
of my friends but too highly ; and it is gratifying to know
that all my pupils, if no others, are of the number.”
&

88 LILIAS FANE.

“‘ Yes, they all are—yet—Miss—Miss Fane —” and
Alfred stammered on, more embarrassed than ever.

‘‘ T can assure them that their kindness will be remem-
bered most gratefully, and their friendship warmly re-
turned,” added Miss Fane, with a gentle dignity, which
prevented familiarity, while it soothed.

Alfred Mason stood for a few moments irresolute, and
Lilias resumed. ‘* To you, in particular, Alfred, am I
deeply indebted. You have defended me in my absence;

assisted me in school, both by your example and counsel ;

and have performed the thousand little services which
have contributed thus far to make my time here among
strangers pass so agreeably. I shall never forget you,
kind, generous friend that you are! And Mary, too—
my own brother and sister could not have watched more
carefully over my comfort and happiness. I have much
to say to you of this, but not now. To-night I have sub-
jects of thought less pleasant, and must be alone.”

‘‘T shouldn't like to trouble you, Miss Fane, but I
came to tell you there is to be a school-meeting to-night.
Oh, how I wish I were a man! in influence, I mean; for
I know that I have a man’s soul, a—”

‘¢ What is the school-meeting for, Alfred ?”

‘*¢ Oh, Mr Fielding—cross old bachelor !—but I won’t
tell you anything about it—it’s too provoking!”

‘‘T shouldn’t expect any good from Mr Fielding,”
said Lilias, with an unusual degree of acrimony. Why
so exceedingly indignant at him, when, if he had not
sympathized, he surely had done thee no injury, gentle
Lilias ?

‘¢ He! no danger of his doing good anywhere—though
LILIAS FANE. 89

he says he ‘ pities the young lady’—pities! But who do
you think he wants to get in your place?”

Lilias stood aghast, for in all her troubles the thought
of losing her situation had not occurred to her ; and now
they had actually planned her removal, and were about
appointing a successor. ‘* Who, Alfred?” she gasped,
tremblingly.

“© Would you believe it, Miss Fane—that ugly, cross,
vinegar-faced Miss Digby—it is too bad! At any rate, _
they will rue the day they get her here. What is the
matter, Miss Fane? you are as pale as death.”

‘ Nothing—go now, Alfred—you shall tell me more
to-morrow.”

Well might young Lilias Fane turn pale, poor child,
at this intelligence; for at that very moment she held
her mother’s last letter in her bosom; and in that letter
had the fond, hoping mother rejoiced over the bright
prospects of her darling, called her the guardian angel of
the family, and hoped that through her efforts comfort
might again be restored to their little home. And now
to be obliged to return in disgrace, disappoint the expec-
tations of that doting parent, and become a burden where
she should be a helper, was too much—more than she
could bear. Alfred obeyed her, and retired in sorrowful
silence ; and poor Lilias, pressing one small hand upon
her aching head, paced the floor in a bitterness of spirit
that she had never felt before. We may be angels while
love makes an Eden for us; but when we go out among
the thorns, we find another spirit rising up, and learn,
alas! that we are not yet all meekness and purity. The
disheartening lesson was embittering still more the spirit
90 LILIAS FANE.

of Lilias, as she paced up and down her deserted room.
But why should Mr Fielding be so unkind? how had
she offended him? These questions puzzled her most
painfully ; and then, heavily and hopelessly, came thoughts
of the future. What should she do? She was sure of
the sympathy of good-natured Mary Mason; but such a
friend was scarce sufficient for the exigency. ‘There was
no one to advise her ; no one who, acquainted with all the
circumstances of the case, could say what was for the
best ; no one even who could be made to comprehend her
feelings. And she longed to pour out all her troubles in
some friendly bosom. Once the thought of Alfred Ma-
son crossed her mind, but she only muttered, blushing
even there, ‘‘ kind, silly boy!” and again recurred to the
one grand question—what should she do? In the midst
of these reflections, a footstep sounded on the threshold,
and before she had time to wonder who was there, Mr
Fielding stood before her. The surprise seemed mutual ;
but Lilias, probably from her sense of injury, was the first
to recover her presence of mind. She crushed a whole
shower of bright crystals that were in the act of descend-
ing, elevated her head, and with a slight courtesy, was
proceeding to adjust her cloak, when Mr Fielding ap-
proached her.

‘‘ Excuse me, Miss Fane, for this intrusion; I did not
expect to find you here; but since I have, perhaps you
will favour me with a few moments’ conversation ?”

‘‘ With pleasure, sir, in a proper place,” said Lilias,
keeping down her anger with a strong effort. ‘ I pre-
sume Mr Martin will be happy to see you?”
LILIAS FANE. 91

“Tt is you that I wish to see, Miss Fane, and for that
I shall have no good opportunity at Mr Martin’s.”

‘‘ Your communication must be of consequence,” said
Lilias, endeavouring to assume an air of carelessness.

‘You are right—it is of some consequence to you,
and so, of course, to your friends.”

‘“‘ Among which, I am well aware, that I have not the
honour to reckon Mr Fielding,” said Lilias, provoked
beyond endurance, by this seeming duplicity. The bache-
lor was evidently the most imperturbable of mortals.
The little maiden’s eye flashed, and her cheeks were crim-
son with indignation ; but not a muscle of his face moved ;
he neither looked confused nor angry, but in his usual
tone replied, ‘I will not contend with you upon that
point, Miss Fane; for mere professions are empty things.
However, it is my wish to act the part of a friend by you
now.”

‘‘ You will have an opportunity to exhibit your friend-
ship in the school-meeting this evening,” said Lilias, with
a curling lip; ‘and, if I am rightly informed, it is your
intention to do so.”

Strange to say, Mr Fielding was not yet demolished,
but with increasing sang froid he replied, ‘if you had
received less information from injudicious persons, it
might have been better for you, and most assuredly would
have saved you much unhappiness.”

The little lady trotted her foot in vexation, for she
knew his remark to be true; meantime, muttering some-
thing about even injudicious friends being preferable to
the most punctilious enemies.
92 LILIAS FANE.

‘‘ There I beg leave to dissent,” said Mr Fielding,
with perfect coolness ; ‘‘ honourable enemies—”

“¢ Excuse me, sir,” interrupted Lilias, losing all
patience. ‘I am not in a mood for discussion to-night,
and you—it is almost time for the school-meeting.”

‘© The school-meeting has been deferred.”

“ Deferred!” Miss Fane’s young face brightened like
the sky with an April sun-flash ; for what might not a
little more time do for her? and she extended her hand
involuntarily, while a ‘forgive me” hovered on her smile-
wreathed lips.

‘Tt will not take place till next week ; and in the mean
time,” continued Mr Fielding, hesitatingly, ‘‘ it would—if
I might—if you would but have confidence in my motives,
Miss Fane, I would venture a piece of advice.”

““To which I am bound to listen,” said Lilias, gaily,
and turning upon the adviser a face radiant with hap-
piness ; for the week’s respite had quite restored her
fallen spirits.

‘¢ Bound ?”

‘‘ From choice, I mean,” said Lilias, with a smile whieh
made the bachelor quite forget that she had been angry.

‘Then I will talk freely as to a friend—a sister,” and
Mr Fielding spoke in a low tone, and hurried his words,
as though the ice might be beginning to thaw. ‘‘ Your
position must be a very painful one. You have, I know,
gained all hearts, but the judgments of many are against
you, and the prejudices of more. You have many pro-
fessed friends, and they do indeed feel kindly toward you ;
but each has some petty interest to serve, some feeling of
LILIAS FANE. 93

rivalry to gratify, and there is not one among them in
whom you can place implicit confidence.”

‘“‘T know it! I have felt it all, only too deeply, too
bitterly ; but what can I do? Oh, if my mother could
be here!” and, overcome by the sudden revulsion of
feeling, Lilias burst into tears.

‘‘ Then go to her, Miss Fane—go to-morrow—her dis-
interestedness you cannot doubt,”

‘Nor is there room for doubt in the case of another
person,” retorted Lilias, in a tone of bitterness. ‘* You
have at least the merit of dealing openly, Mr Fielding.”

‘¢ You distrust me without cause, Miss Fane,” said the
bachelor, warmly ; ‘it is to save you pain that I recom-
mend this course ; and it was in the hope of inducing you
to withdraw, that I persuaded them to defer the meeting.
We have coarse natures here, and you must not come in
contact with them. Allow me to advise you, and do not
enter your school again.”

Poor Lilias Fane! the net was about her, and flutter
as she would, she could not get free. ‘Then they in-
tend to dismiss me ?” she asked, despondingly.

“If you give them the opportunity, I fear they will.”

‘* What have I done, Mr Fielding, to deserve this ?”

‘‘ Every thing that is good and praiseworthy; but a
district school is not the place for one like you. A school-
teacher must not be too sensitive—she must know how
to endure, to return buffetings.”

‘‘ Oh, Mr Fielding, I am sure it is not necessary for a
school-teacher to be bad or heartless. I know what un-
fits me for the place—I have too little character—too
94 LILIAS FANE.

little self-dependence ;—but I should improve—lI am sure
I should. Icannot leave my school until I am obliged
to leave it; as perhaps even you will do me the justice
to believe, I would have undertaken it only from neces-
sity. Even a week is of importance to me.”

“ T have not felt at liberty to inquire your motive, Miss
Fane, but I have felt assured that it was no unworthy
one, and your partial failure is attended with no disgrace.
Indeed,” and there was so much sincerity in Mr Fielding’s
words, that he did not think how warmly he was praising,
‘‘T have watched your patience, your industry, your gen-
tleness and sweetness, with admiration ; and it is to the
very qualities, most admirable, that your want of success
may be traced.”

“ And so I must go!” exclaimed Lilias, with a fresh
gush of feeling. ‘* My poor, poor mother! Indeed, Mr
Fielding—but you must be my friend, and I will do as
you bid me, for there is nobody in the world to say just
what I ought to do.”

The bachelor was almost as much agitated as poor
Lilias Fane. Fresh interest seemed to be gathering
around the little schoolmistress, and yet he had too much
delicacy to press inquiries, which at any other time would
seem impertinent. There was, however, a better under-
standing between the school-committee-man and the lady-
teacher ; and so another half-hour was passed in conver-
sation without a single angry word, after which, the two
emerged from the school-house together, and taking a
seat in the gig, proceeded toward Mr Martin’s.

That night bright young Lilias Fane, for almost the
first time in her life, went to her pillow with an aching
LILIAS FANE. 95

heart, though caused by a seeming trifle in comparison
with her other sources of sorrow. Nurtured in the lap
of luxury, made beggars by the death of a husband and
father, who was an object of almost idolatry to a loving,
helpless group; visited by disappointment, neglect, and
sickness, the little family had struggled on and been
happy. They had stemmed the torrent together. But
Mrs Fane’s exertions were wasting life. Liilias was the
eldest child, and her only dependence. What could the
delicate, fragile, young girl do to be useful? Plain sewing
yielded but slight recompense to fingers too little accus-
tomed to its mysteries, and, in the retirement which Mrs
Fane had chosen, ornamental needle-work found no mar-
ket. True, Lilias knew something of drawing and music;
but she had never thought of either as a profession, and
she felt conscious that her knowledge of both was too
superficial to turn to account. Little did Mrs Fane or
Lilias know of a district school, particularly in the win-
ter; but they knew that teaching was considered a re-
spectable employment ; so the trial was made, and bitter
to Lilias was the result.

The next morning the children assembled at the
school-house as usual, but they were soon dispersed by
the sad intelligence that Miss Fane had been called sud-
denly home; which information caused quite a sensation
throughout the district. Alfred Mason kicked over the
breakfast table when he heard the news, declared that
it was Mr Fielding’s work, and he ought to be hanged,
and chopped wood furiously all the rest of the day.

Some people thought “it quite strange that Miss Fane
did not go home in the stage-coach, as she came, and
96 LILIAS FANE.

there was some litile gossiping on the subject ; but Mrs
Martin said Mr Fielding had convinced her that his gig,
with the soft cushions, was much more comfortable, and
warm, and safe, and had talked so much of the incon-
veniences of stage-coach travelling, that the good dame
declared she should ‘be afeared of the ugly things all the
days of her life.”

In the mean time, the lady and gentleman were pur-
suing their way very sociably, if not very happily; and
Lilias found, to her infinite astonishment, that Mr
Fielding, when he threw off the school-committee-man,
and had no unpleasant point to gain (such as telling
a lady she is mistaken in her vocation), could be vastly
agreeable. He even went so far as to draw a picture
of her successor, the vinegar-faced Miss Digby, at which
Lilias laughed so heartily that she could not help won-
dering the next moment what had become of her sad-
ness. Looking for sadness or any other unwelcome
visitor (vide the old adage), is the very way to bring it
to your presence ; and so Mr Fielding felt himself called
upon to play the agreeable to an unusual extent ; and
Lilias wondered how she could be so happy, until she was
obliged to explain the cause of her misery, just for the
sake of refreshing her memory. And then Mr Fielding
was sad too—oh, so sad! And then he said something
in a very low tone—doubtless to let her know how much
he pitied her; but it must have been awkwardly done,
for Lilias blushed a great deal more than when she was
angry with him. Mr Fielding blushed too, and both
looked as though they were quite ready to quarrel again.
What a lucky circumstance that they did not arrive at
LILIAS FANE. 97

this crisis before, for now Lilias exclaimed joyously, ‘‘ Oh, -
we are home!” and the gig drew up before Mrs Fane’s
door.

It would be impossible to say whether Mrs Fane felt
more gladness or surprise at the sight of Lilias; and the
little ones gathered around her, ‘“ all clamorous,” not
‘‘ for bread,” but kisses.

Mr Fielding glanced from the noisy, happy group to
the pale, thin face of the mother, and then around upon
the scanty furniture ; and, callous old bachelor as he was,
he felt his heart swelling in his throat, and the moisture
in his eye made him ashamed of himself.

Mr Fielding did not return home that day, for his
horse had lost a shoe, which it was necessary should be
replaced ; and the next day there came a snow-storm,
which only a madman would brave ; then the third day,
I do not quite know what detained him, but it must have
been something of importance, as he was the last man in
the world to exchange the comforts of home for the in-
conveniences of a village hotel, without sufficient reason.
On the fourth day, however, toward night, he was so for-
tunate as to undertake his homeward journey; but, before
this, he was closeted a long time with the again radiant
Lilias, and afterward with her mother; and he finally
quitted them, with a face so brimming over with happiness,
as to show—perhaps—how glad he was to get away!

Early the ensuing spring, the cottage down by the
Maple Grove had a new mistress ; and another, close by,
was purchased and fitted up tastefully for a pale, sweet
widow and her bright-eyed children ; the eldest of whom,

‘Alfred Mason declares a vast deal prettier than her sister
Lilias, a
THE UNUSEFUL.

MAN is a born equestrian; and from the time when
mother Eve fixed her anxious heart on improving her
condition, and crushed a world at a single bound, to this
present writing, he has never lacked a hobby whereon to
exercise to his heart’s content. And it is no tame, gentle
exercise ; for, whatever the hobby may be, and whether
well-mounted or otherwise, he not only rides tantivy, but
hesitates not to ‘‘run through a troop and leap over a
wall.” We have innumerable hobbies now-a-days ; and
many of them (to our credit be it said) are of an excel-
lent character. But, poor things! they are ridden down
most savagely.

You may have seen, among these poor, jaded, spavined,
wind-galled, would-be-racers of beasts of burden, a huge
mammoth, with a back like a continent, and legs like
those of Mark Antony in Cleopatra’s dream. This is a
universal hobby that men have named UsEFutness ; and
such strong claims has it to the suffrages of all but the
butterflies, that whoever eschews the wing of the idler,
must needs accept a seat. There is no medium, no spot
of terra firma on which we may stand and labour in quiet,
sober earnest; one must either flutter in the air a giddy
thing, or gallop away almost as madly on the back of
THE UNUSEFUL. 99

this irresistible hobby. But we do, verily, constitute a
goodly array ; and so uncompromisingly do we ride down
everything that is elegant and beautiful, and indolently
lovely, that we are even in danger of doubting the wis-
dom of the Deity in placing those soft, sun-draped, luxu-
riously lazy clouds in the summer heavens ; in scattering
the idle, balm-breathing flowers so profusely by the way-
side ; and in sending out the play-loving zephyrs to dally
through the live-long day with every bud that has a lip
to kiss, and every light-poised leaf that palpitates at its
sly whispers, like’a lady’s boddice at the first word that
takes its course from the tip of a lover’s tongue into her
heart, Yet our hobby is a most noble beast originally.
What a great pity that it should be made so stupidly un-
gainly by its mad riders! A finer animal never lost its
attractiveness by man’s re-moulding ; and while most of
us jolt along upon the back of our spoiled hobby, we
leave its spirit to the quiet, unassuming ones who close
one hand to the labours of the other. What can be more
beautiful than Usrrutness—the great object of our
present existence? What more repulsive than the de-
formed images to which each, according to his particular
fancy, gives the name? So many a person, giving up the
world to the wltraists, who are sent to occupy one of the
‘‘ human extremes,” preserves the spirit in its purity, and
is most unusefully useful.

Of a character somewhat resembling this was my
friend Nora Maylie; though I think that in its formation
nature had more to do than principle. To estimate
things properly and reasonably, requires both maturity of
judgment and independence of thought.
100 THE UNUSEFUL.

Nora Maylie must have been born under an unpro-
mising star, for in infancy she was fair, fat, and good-
natured ; without any of that unwelcome vivacity, so il-
lustrative of perpetual motion ; but with a very knowing
look upon her baby features, that told you, at once, the
repose of her manner sprang not from a lack of good
sense; at least enough of it to place her on a par with
other babies. ‘This sensible look was Nora’s curse, for
it gave her a preéminence over her sisters ; and in pro-
portion to her height was the number of stones cast at
her, It was at once decided that she was born to a high
destiny ; and so she waddled off to school as soon as her
chubby little feet would bear her weight. But physi-
ognomical promises are deceitful. Nora was not a par-
ticularly playful child, and very far from being mischiev-
ous; but yet, all through two golden summers of her
school-life, she took her daily course from a to zed, with-
out once dreaming but her whole duty consisted in echo-
ing back, with her own pretty lisp, each letter as it was
pronounced for her.

Nora Maylie was the youngest of five daughters, all
professional women, and notedly, eminently useful. I
will not say that Rachel, the eldest, could make a nice
dish of tea, or prepare a delicious jelly for a fevered lip ;
but she could make dresses superbly. She was perfect
‘1 her art. Not that she was obliged to make dresses—
by no means! Old farmer Maylie had enough in scrip
and granary for his family, with now and then a bit to
keep the poor around him from a surfeit of want ; but
that made no difference. Mrs Maylie hated not idleness
merely, but a tendency to dwell on the minutie of life,
THE UNUSEFUL. 101

in preference to taking that decided stand indicative of a
woman of character. She was herself a notable house-
wife; and she had always privately regretted that she
could boast no higher excellence. She would have liked
well to figure more largely than was now in her power ;
for, on account of the exclusively domestic character of
her education, the office of directress in a sewing society
was the highest that she had ever been able to assume.
She was a sensible woman, however, and not only wisely
kept her chagrin to herself, but when she saw that Ma-
tilda, her second daughter, evinced a fondness for such
vain pursuits as dressing dolls, and painting paper flowers
with sorrel-leaves and Indian strawberries, she at once
decided that the child had a great genius in the millinery
line. Susan and Mary had a predilection for intellectu-
ality, and took to books as readily and naturally as ducks
take to the genial pool while yet in pen-feathers ; and so,
of course, they must be teachers—school-teachers—the
most useful of all the multitudes of useful people the
world contains. But little Nora (Mrs Maylie’s diminutive
for Eleanora), as I have said, was an anomaly. At four,
she took patch-work to school; but poor Nora! She
couldn’t see into the philosophy of over-and-over seams.
She would rather spread the pretty calicoes on her knee,
and admire their bright colouring, or twist them up into
dolls with paper heads, and closely-pined drapery. Then
she was particularly given to losing thimbles, and knotting
thread ; and her needle, however clumsy, was always
bent or broken at the point—the legitimate result of her
devotion to badly cracked hickory nuts. And then such
stitches! Why the little girls laughed till the tears came
102 THE UNUSEFUL.

into their eyes from very merriment at the sight; but
when they saw the big drops standing in hers, they all
patted her velvet cheeks lovingly, and smoothed her hang~
ing hair; and if they found her inconsolable, made a
chair with their crossed hands and bore her away in
triumph to the play-ground. In their wise, confidential
talks, they used to say that Nora Maylie was just the
dearest little creature in the world, but it was a great
pity she could not sew. As some compensation for my
little friend’s deficiencies, I should like to be able to say
that she was a good scholar; but no assertion could have
less truth in it—she was just no scholar at all. And yet
I am not certain but a careful observer of human nature,
even though less shrewd than the worldly-minded mother,
might have detected, in this very backwardness, this re-
fusal to trammel the mind with that which seemed in no
wise calculated to enrich it, the germ of a higher order
of intellect than common minds appreciate. As it was,
however, there was no one near to raise the one fold of
ignorance from the beautifying soul beneath; and so Nora
was judged by her non-attainments. How heartily she
hated the monotonous a, b, c, and the smart, flippant
ab ab, e b eb, i b ib, that made her companions’ tongues
resemble so many mill-clappers, When, by dint of con-
stant dinging, she could make out the words of a few easy
sentences, such as ‘‘no—man—may—put—off— the—
law—of—God,” she still evinced the same dead level of
intellect, and hated her books, and hated (as poor Mrs
Maylie often despairingly observed) everything that was
useful. But Nora did not hate to follow her mother
through the routine of her day’s labour ; to run for the
THE UNUSEFUL. 103

spoon or carving-knife when it was wanted, and antici-
pate the thousand little wants that occasion a careful
housewife so many steps. She learned this readily, for
her heart was her teacher. Neither did she hate the ar-
rant idlers of which I have before spoken: the dallying
breezes, the sleepy flowers, the chatty brooks, and the
slow-sailing clouds. Oh no! they were too like her dear
little self, too natural and graceful, ay! and too idle
withal, to be anything but friends to their free and care-
less playmate. Oh, Nora! Nora! thou wert a sore trial
to thy poor mother’s heart! But what a pity that our
first mother could not have remained contented in her
ignorance—then we might all have been like thee. Dear,
darling Nora! We cannot respect thee, as the dictionaries
define respect ; but we can take thee to our hearts and
hold thee there for ewer.

Years passed, and Nora had seen a dozen summers.
She had retrieved her character at school, in a degree, but
yet she had never mastered the multiplication table.
Every word of a little book of fairy tales, the daily ob-
ject of Mrs Maylie’s animadversions, was as familiar to
her as the robin’s song trilled forth every morning be-
neath her window, or the splash of the spotted trout that
made its home in the brook at the hill’s foot; Watts’
dear delightful children’s melodies, from ‘‘ How doth the
little busy bee,’’ to the’ end of the catalogue, were on her
tongue’s tip, to say nothing of the ‘* Children of the
Wood,” and other ballads, for whose loss no modern
rhymster can compensate ; but Nora could not repeat a
rule from Lindley Murray. When not engaged in homely
acts of love within doors, she would wander from field tn


164 THE UNUSEFUL.

field, through meadow and copse, over hills, and into
deep solemn dingles, until the tangled masses of hair
shaded her face like a veil woven of golden threads, and
her joyous eyes looked out wonderingly from their sunny
ambush, like two renegade stars that had leaped from
their azure mounting and set up for themselves in the
amber shades of an October wilderness. There she would
lie hours beneath a shady tree, her straw bonnet by her
side, wild flowers scattered around her, and a bar of sun-
light resting on her feet, gazing into the sky with those
large chamelion eyes all bathed in light, and with an in-
tensity belonging only to idle dreamers like herself.

Time still went on, and Nora was obliged, like her
sisters, to choose a profession. She said she did not care;
they might bind her to whatever they chose; though she
intimated that if they could provide her with a little spade
and a little hoe, she should by all means prefer horticul-
ture. Such an enchanting spot as she would make of the
old kitchen garden! The beans, and cabbages, and onions
should be uprooted at once. The peas might remain—
though she would have all sweetpeas—but all the other
weeds should give place to the beautiful violets, and tia-
rellas, and fringe-wort that she would bring from the
woods. And Nora Maylie really grew animated at her
own foolish plans.

If truth must be told, Mrs Maylie was more troubled
about the perverseness of her youngest daughter than if
it had been any of the others ; for never had a mother’s
ambition a more beautiful corner-stone for the erection of
its castles than this. She had first conceived Nora to be
a genius, but she had waited long and vainly for what
oo

TIE UNUSEFUL. 105

she considered genius-like developments. Nora was ur-
ambitious and unassuming, and all the puffing and pushing
‘n the world could not make her other than what she was.
Disappointed in her first hopes, Mrs Maylie had set her
heart on making a teacher of Nora; but alas! Nora’s
head was not of the right stuff. She loved books dearly,
but such books! Why there was not, if we allow Mrs
Maylie to be the judge, a useful one among them all!
She revelled in the enchanting luxuries of literary flower-
gatherers: they were the mirrors to reflect her own
heart, and the glorious world about her, and her own
imaginings. But what science for a school-teacher! Mrs «
Maylie was in a dilemma. She hesitated a while, and
then,“ with praiseworthy decision, seized it by the only |
horn to hang a hope upon. It was decided that Nora
Maylie, in view of her tastefulness and. lack of intellectu-
ality, should be a milliner; and she was forthwith sent.
to her sister’s shop. Matilda was an accomplished busi- —
ness-woman, giving a sharp eye to all the ways and means
of trade, and she perceived at once that the beautiful
face of her young sister would be a great ornament to
her front shop. Nora was, therefore, placed by the side
of the forewoman, for the express purpose of fascinating
customers; for human calculations are often fallacious.
I have intimated before (or, if I have not, I should have
done so) that my friend Nora had an unusual share of
artless good-nature, kind consideration for everybody ex-
cept herself, of whom she never thought a moment ;
and hence she was ill-fitted for the sphere in which
she seemed destined to act. ‘The very first day of her
appearance as a tradeswoman, she was foolish enough to
106 THE UNUSEFUL.

tell a sallow-complexioned lady that a pea-green hat,
which she was on the point of purchasing, was unbe-
coming, and so the sale was lost. Another bonnet she
thought too heavily laden with ornaments, and so the
purchaser ordered a large cluster of artificial flowers,
on which Matilda had resolved to speculate a little, taken
from the crown. Matilda expostulated and reasoned,
but as the simple sister only opened wide her beautiful
eyes in astonishment, and seemed utterly incapable of
appreciating the arguments, and moreover, as a week’s
trial gave no symptoms of reformation, she was removed
to the back shop. But here it was but Jittle better; for
although she knotted ribands and arranged flowers with
exquisite taste, she had a way of softening the drudgery
of the business not at all pleasing to an inhabitant of
Dollar-land. If she had been satisfied to play the idler
herself, it might have been endured; but Nora could not
bear to see those half-dozen necks bent with painful im-
moveableness over bits of silk and stiffened muslin ; and
those eight times half-dozen fingers ply, ply, plying the
needle constantly, as though the whole of existence was
comprised within the contracted space enclosed by those
four walls. And so she bewildered the little coterie with
the things she had seen in her dreams; the rounded
periods falling from her bulbous lips slowly and with a
delicious quietude that bewitched while it lulled the
senses. There was an interested uplifting of eye-brows
and a relaxing of fingers when she spoke, and smiles be-
came more frequent and stitches less, until the detrimental
influence of the unuseful sister became strikingly appa-
rent. The prudent Matilda again resorted to argument,
THE UNUSEFUL. 107

but as Nora’s strange obtuseness on these subjects seemed
unconquerable, she was at last obliged to discharge her
thoughtless apprentice to save her establishment from
ruin. Poor Nora! she was deeply pained at the distress
her friends evinced on her account; and she begged to
be taken home, promising to do anything and everything
there that should be required of her. But this, as has
been already seen, was no part of Mrs Maylie’s plan. She
had disposed of all her daughters as she desired, and if
she had manceuvred less than mammas who seek for a
life-establishment, she did not take to herself less credit
for her successful management. But in the case of her
youngest daughter she had entirely failed. She had re-
solved to make Nora a star, but Nora would not shine.
Indeed, it would have been impossible to make her think
about herself long enough to know whether she shone or
not ; and the idea of supporting a character, even for five
minutes, would have been oppressive to her. Slowly she
moved about the large old farm-house with a step as
noiseless as
“ That orbéd maiden, with white fire laden,
Whom mortals call the moon,”

cheerful, and kind, and loving; but as characterless as
the pet-lamb which she led about the garden by its grass-
woven collar. Yet rare beauties, rare for such beauty-
scorning people as the Maylies, sprang up beneath her
touch wherever she turned. Her very presence seemed
to infuse into everything about her a calm, quiet lovel-
ness; and there was a soft repose in her manner, that
made her influence felt by the most bustling of the work-
108 THE UNUSEFUL,

ing-bees in that busiest of all busy hives. Even Mrs
Maylie looked on, and wondered that everybody should
yield to Nora; and wondered that with her lazy ways
she could accomplish so much; and then sighed that
what was accomplished was of so little use. To be sure,
Nora brought the easy-chair to her father when he came
in tired from the field ; and smoothed his hair and kissed
his cheek ; and then supported the basin on his knee,
while the old man bathed his heated brow with the cold
water she had dipped from the spring; but old farmer
Maylie had been his life-long accustomed to waiting on
himself, and this was an unpardonable waste of time.
And Nora carried flowers, fresh, fragrant flowers, into
mother’s little bed-room, and re-arranged the simple
furniture, and put a snowy muslin curtain in place of the
soiled paper one at the window ; and, in short, wrought
such an entire change, that even Mrs Maylie herself
smiled involuntarily whenever she opened the door,
though she was always heard to lament, immediately after,
that such wondrous talent should be wasted on such tri-
vial pursuits. But it was with her brothers that Nora
Maylie was the all-in-all, Hers was the only woman’s
influence that they had ever felt ; for their mother and
elder sisters were too much like themselves—pushing,
elbowing, jostling, calculating, hurrying, eating, and
sleeping—both of those last in a greater hurry than any
of the others. But coming into Nora’s presence was like
entering a new atmosphere. There was something supe-
rior—something pure, serene, refining, calculated to
suppress turbulent passions, and noisy tones, in her soft,
yielding manner, and low, musical voice, that no one


THE ONUSEFUL. , 109

could resist. The bare, gloomy parlour, which was never
opened but to company, Nora won her mother into giv-
ing up to her direction, and soon it was entirely meta-
morphosed, and made a delightful withdrawing-room for
the family in the cool of the day. And there Nora sat
with her brothers: her luxuriously developed figure so
simply, yet so tastefully draped, as to lead one to believe
that the addition of a single fold would mar its symmetry ;
the pearly whiteness of her skin, with the most delicate
rose-tint on dewy lip and downy cheek, contrasting
strikingly with their bronzed labour-stained faces ; her
massy volumes of hair, folding plainly around a head
whose beauty would have mocked the chise of Pyginalion,
and gathered into a magnificent knot behind; her full,
white, exquisitely moulded hands folded over a manly
shoulder, or wandering like lost snow-flakes among dark,
stubby clusters of hair; her breathing lips parted, and
sounds wandering thence at dreamy intervals, the mes-
sengers of a heart all goodness, all simplicity, all love.
And sometimes she would bring books, the books she de-
lighted in; and though the brothers never glanced their
eyes over such pages themselves, Nora’s soulful voice,
with its bird-like tones and eloquent cadences, was the
interpreter between the poet’s heart and theirs. ‘The
Masters Maylie used to boast of their business-like sisters ;
asserting that nobody could drive bargains like Rachel
and Matilda; and nobody could maintain order among
the rebellious spirits of the school-room like Susan and
Mary ; but their hearts always fell back upon the unuse-
ful Nora, and they declared, with softened faces and
gentler voices, that she was good for nothing but to love.
110 THE UNUSEFUL.

But there they were wrong. She cheered, she encou-
raged, she smoothed difficulties, she soothed peevishness,
and softened heartlessness ; her loving spirit stealing un-
observed on all, and distilling its own dews over the
whole household. None resisted her power, for there was
nothing in it to resist. It was impalpable, undiscoverable ;
and yet most deliciously felt—most unhesitatingly acknow
ledged. Was it a matter of regret that Nora Maylie
was an unuseful woman ?

[I did not promise you a tale, dear reader (did I ?)
when I commenced this sketch. If you expected one,
you were misled by your own imagination, for I thought
only of dashing off, with a few simple strokes, the cha-
racter of a friend, who, whatever her faults, you will ac-
knowledge has some virtues. If, however, you have be-
come sufficiently interested in gentle Nora Maylie, to
desire to hear more, I may resume the thread of my
narrative at some future period. ]
NORA MAYLIE.

cc Do }”

Tell more of Nora Maylie? Ah yes! with pleasure ;
I love dearly to think of her.

Please vacate that ottoman, ’Bel, and betake yourself
to the sofa. My first sketch was written on that, and I
have a kind of fondness for it; ‘‘ by the same token,” as
an Trish woman would say, that we love the haunts of
our childhood. Besides, it is just the right height ; al-
lowing head, neck, and a very small portion of the
shoulder to rise above the table. That will oblige me to
sit straight.

High-shouldered? Oh no! see how easily the thing is
done, and without the possibility of lounging.

Then I have another reason for affecting this ottoman.
Geniuses have queer notions (as well as other spoiled
children), and the world pets and indulges them, and
encourages their eccentricities, till oddity becomes the
universal badge of the tribe, and men reason something
on this wise :

All geniuses have queer notions ;
A has queer notions ;

Therefore A is a genius,
Or, au contraire :

~
112 NORA MAYLIE.

All geniuses have queer notions ;
A has no queer notions ;
Therefore A is not a genius.

Now I have set my heart on playing make-believe,
since I am not a genius; and so I must contrive up some
little peculiarity. Burns wrote his first things on the
air, while sauntering over the ‘“‘ banks and braes of bonny
Doon ;” and sealing the light-winged scrip to his me-
mory, he carried it home to copy from at leisure. It
was a very odd thing of the Doon man! Any common
individual would have written better in a quiet room,
with the most convenient of standishes, a half-dozen
nicely nibbed pens, and a quire of foolscap cut and paged,
all spread invitingly before him. (And, between our two
selves, "Bel, I think J should prefer such a room,
genius or no genius.) But here is another case, quite in
point. The whilome proprietary of Glenmary found the
shadow of a bridge, a wall impregnable to truant thoughts ;
and he has made the spot, seldom looked upon but by
rafters and cross-beams, and the little winged people that
go among them to find summer-lodgings, classic ground.
That bridge at Glenmary ! What a scrambling there will
be to see it one of these days !

And this ottoman! it is a very trivial thing, to be
sure, but that is what makes it important; and I shall
take pains to let it be known that this is my own pecu-
liar property, leaving it to be inferred that I could not
possibly write anywhere else. Then think of your great-
grandchildren, *Bel, exhibiting this same pretty otto-
man—the cover so faded that you could not recog-
nize it, and the hair peeping through a thousand crevices
NORA MAYLIE. 113

think of their exhibiting it to their gaping little ones
as—I can no more, ’Bel; for, even while these light
words are on my tongue, there comes a grave between
my eye and the point it would settle on.

Wheel around the sofa, dear, and sit close beside me ;
for the ugly vision has got upon my heart, and you
must wile it away, while I tell, whomsoever chooses to
read, something more of Nora Maylie.

St, cousin! ’st! The public is my audience now, and
will care no more for that point-lace of yours than they
would for so much ‘ Lisle thread.”

Dear reader, how left we Nora Maylie? Indolent and
good-natured, was she not? Disliking anything like
bustle, and resisting every attempt to be made something
of, with an invisible strenuousness that made wise people
marvel mightily, whether her nature were of wax or ada-
mant? I think we so left her, and so we find her; as
like what she was as yon sun will be to its present self,
when we, who now glory in its light, are shut away from
it by the coffin-lid. Few changes come upon such
characters as that of the fair Nora. They appear before
us quietly and without ostentation, as the bright-eyed
pansy unfolds its petals in the spring-time ; and, like that
loveliest of lovely things, they live on, smiling in the
sunshine, and bending to the storm with a pliant grace-
fulness which mars not their beauty. And yet those who
looked only at outward circumstances would have said
that Nora Maylie was changed most entirely. You will
recollect that at sixteen poor Nora was considered unfit
to become a milliner even, and sent home in disgrace to

H
114 ‘ NORA MAYLIE.

do nothing. At eighteen she was altogether above the
necessity of doing anything.

Mrs Maylie chanced to have a sister, who married a
fortune, together with an aged and gouty metropolitan ;
and this lady chanced to get a glimpse of our fair Nora.
[nstiantly Mrs Maylie was made to understand that she
had mistaken her daughter’s vocation ; and so the young
beauty was be-jewelled, be-flounced, and bedizened, till
it wes proved by every possible experiment, that, adorn-
ed or unadorned, she was all the same, and transferred
to a fashionable drawing-room. Everybody said that
Nora Maylie was a very lucky individual, and many a
pretty maiden sighed with envy as the proud mother re-
count: d her darling’s triumphs. But what thought the
young lady herself? Alas! the perverseness of human
nature! Nora longed for the green woods where she
had fist dreamed over the gorgeous creations of minds
as dre*my and as idle as her own; the silver-toned voice
arising from the little trout-stream at the foot of the hill
was for ever in her ear, and she was sure no man-made
music could compare with it ; and there were birds and
floweis, and—shall I tell you? Those were very homely
tastes of Nora Maylie’s. The tame rabbits, peaking
their ears at every sound; old Mooly, with her crumpled
horns and sober, sensible face; the doves that used to
fly fiom the barn-top to her bosom ; the hens, with their
domestic, motherly ways; and the geese, with their
pre*ty necks and tea-party voices—all these were to poor
Nora as so many lost friends, whose places could not be
. supplied by the simpering things in stays and broadcloth
that flocked to do her homage.
NORA MAYLIE. 115

And were there any other home attractions for Nora
than these, and her own kin ? Anything for which she
would have resigned her envied position, with all the
eagerness of a pent-up stream leaping every barrier, and
bounding away to the ocean’s bosom ?

You may never have heard of Will Waters, a hand-
some, dark-eyed, roguish-looking, care-for-naught sort
of a fellow, who would rake up more hay in four hours
than anybody else could between twilight and twi-
light, and give the rest of his time to rod or gun, or
some other heathenish amusement. Was there a dance,
Will Waters was in the midst, leading out the brightest
of the blushing damsels ; was there a husking, it was an
entire failure without Will Waters’ songs; and at fourth-
of-July orations and stump speeches, and other move-
ments for the public good, nobody could hold a candle to
clever Will Waters. Yet (great men will have their
failings) Will was a wild fellow, very wild ; and people
said he was not to be depended upon in the least. No-
body could tell what bad things he had done or was in
danger of doing ; and everybody loved him for his frank
heartsomeness, his ready wit, and his gay good-nature ;
but still, it was the general impression that Will Waters,
though a “ very promising young man,” would somehow
manage to seduce his nature into breaking its promise.

There was a village between Mr Waters’ farm and Mr
Maylie’s ; and Will’s handsome face was no stranger to
the village beauties, who had wasted. more smiles on him
than often burnish a coat of country finish ; but Will
had somehow dodged the whole artillery and passed on.
Away in the woods, skirting fair fields of pale green
136 NORA MAYLIE.

maize and dancing flax, so proud of its light-poised gem
of blue, Will Waters was destined to another trial ; and
this time the weapon was pointed by a more celebrated
marksman than himself.

The sun was just scattering his last grains of gold-dust
upon the spotted alders that leaned over the trout-stream
at the foot of “the Maylie hill,’ when Will Waters, his
fowling-piece over his shoulder, and his dog by his side,
leaped the chattering brook ; and, making a great crack-
ling and crashing among the underbush, landed headlong
upon a velvety band, hemmed in by witch-hazel, black-
‘berry bushes, and the white-flowering dog-wood. The
rude entrée was occasioned by an officious grape-vine
that had taken a fancy to put its arms around the young
man’s foot, course-booted though it was; but Will
Waters was in a very proper position, considering all things.
Beneath the deep shade of a broad-leaved bass-wood,
whose peculiar perfume made the air around heavy with
richness, appeared, in wondering amazement, the mistress
of this silvan drawing-room, A bob-o’link had come up
from his home among the sedges over the brook, and
was perking his pretty bill, and smoothing his plumage
with a knowing impudence, directly before her face ; but
quick was the exit of Master Robert when wild Will
Waters became an actor in the scene. A scarce adult
mouser, fast asleep on its mistress’ knee, opened its yel-
low eyes in affright, and scampered off as fast as its vel-
vet feet would carry it; and a crow that had lighted on
a limb above, and sat in silence, hopefully civilized by
the nearness of the white-browed divinity, spread his
black wings and rushed skyward with a caw! caw!
NORA MAYLIE. 117

which threw Madam Echo into an ecstacy of noisy fear.
But the fair human joined not at all in the commotion.
True, she rose to her feet, but not with that twitch and
jerk which many another would have adopted ; she rose
with the astonished dignity of one who intends to say by
the movement, “I am quite superior to being annoyed
by you, but I should like to know how far your impu-
dence will carry you;” and her large, changeable eyes
were opened to their greatest width.

“ The position could have been no more appropriate
had it been of my own choosing, O fairest thou of witch-
ing Silvans !” exclaimed the youth, springing to his knee,
‘and repeating the salaam.

The lady blushed a little, and looked as though not
quite sure of what she ought to do in such a case, and
so she did nothing; though her face grew talkative with
its declaration of amused curiosity.

“Ts it not enough that you have snares at your door-
way, nymph most beautifu ’ continued wild Will; ‘‘ but
must he who enters your charmed circle find the chains
rivetted about him for ever?”

““ Nay,” returned the lady with a delicious smile that
belied her mocking words, ‘nay, poor youth, I pity thy mis-
hap, and release thee without a ransom ; depart in peace!”

“ Bid the poor charmed thing be free, that is beneath
the eyes of the basilisk,” exclaimed Will in a tone of
mock mournfulness.

“Be free!’’ repeated the lady; ‘ the basilisk with-
draws his gaze ;” and she gathered up her scattered im-
plements, and with a slight curtsey was turning away.

““ Nay, lady,’’ exclaimed the hunter in an altered tone,
118 NORA MAYLIE.

springing to his feet and shouldering his fowling-prece,
“ T intruded unwittingly upon your sanctum ; and though,
by your leave, I cannot regret the accident, you must
not abandon it ; for see, I am gone.”

As he spoke, Will stepped back a few paces ; but how
he could consider himself gone, is a query in my mind to
this day ; for there was a good yard of the golden-hued
moss between him and the blackberry bushes and Co.
which palisaded the pretty retreat. The lady, however,
must have believed him, for she turned round very
quietly, and fixed her eye on pussy, which was peeping
her little head from a clump of thorns that threatened to
disfigure her coat most sadly. Will Waters retreated
slowly, until the folded leaf of the dog-wood touched the
hem of his hunting-frock ; and then, with an air of the
most respectful deference, he ventured a remark on the
beauty of the wood-land scene. ‘The lady, in common
civility, could but answer, and Will replied ; and then
the lady’s voice gave out a bar of music which Will
Waters could not allow to close the interview, and so
I should not like to tell you how much time



passed, dear reader, for it was shockingly imprudent in
Nora Mayut« to allow herself to be so beguiled. Will
Waters, however, understood his cue well enough to
lean upon his fowling-piece ; and Nora turned her back
upon the bass-wood tree, and employed her fingers in
making baskets of its leaves. The twilight was putting
on its grayest hue, when Nora recollected that she should
be returning home; and though the youth did not ven-
ture to accompany her in person, his eyes followed her
every step across the fields.
NORA MAYLIE. 119

Will Waters made two or. three ineffectual attempts
to get up a whistle on his way homeward that evening ;
and once he struck out ito a song very clamorously ;
but he was so absent-minded as to break off in the mid-
‘dle of a word, which word is waiting for its other half te
this day.

The very next evening Nora Maylie was again sur
prised in her rustic bower ; put, as the young hunter
came in a different manner, and, moreover, as he made a
very characteristic apology (prettily impudent) for coming
at all, the lady did not consider it necessary to rise from
her rich cushions. Neither did the bob-’link fly away—
instead, he gave out a glorious gush of music; pussy
opened her eyes lazily, and immediately closed them again ;
and a good-natured little thrush, that saw fit to make it-
self quite at home there, went hopping along on the
ground, and never once turned its eye to inquire whether
the intruder came for it or its neighbours. Very well
might humble browny manifest such indifference; for
wild Will’s step had an exceedingly innocent sound to it,
scarce rustling a leaf, much less presuming on the enter-
tainment which, by the aid of the grape-vine, he had
furnished for woodland edification the day previous. I
know not how it was, but Nora Maylie took the intrusion
something in the spirit of Mrs Thrush, whose back of
plebian brownness never ruffled a feather ; and so wild
Will Waters leaned his gun against the bass-wood, and
placed himself at the lady’s feet without the ceremony of
asking. Will Waters had a dashing way of talking which
Nora had never heard before, and so she decided in her
own mind that it was dramatic Shaksperian, or something
120 NORA MAYLIE,

of that sort; while Nora’s voice reminded the young
hunter of the whisper of the south-wind, dallying with
the silver-lined blades of grass, on whose waving tips he
had often been borne away to the land of dreams.

That our young friends were mutually pleased with
each other, was very certain; and that their friends would
be mutually displeased, should the acquaintance chance
to ripen into anything more than common friendship,
was quite as certain. As far as farmer Maylie was known,
it was thought that his handsome daughter would make
an unprofitable wife; and Mrs Maylie would have been
struck with consternation at the thought of committing
her poor child, with her lamentable deficiencies, to the
keeping of such a dashing, careless fellow, as wild Will
Waters. But young people never will fall in love pru-
dently ; and this second interview decided the fate of Will
and Nora. To be sure, they did not meet then nor af-
terwards as lovers, but they did meet, nevertheless ; and
two young people do not go every day to the same spot,
and listen to each other’s voices, and look into each
other’s faces, and read from each other’s hearts to no
purpose. No, no! the temple that God made, the solemn
old wood, is a dangerous place for beauty and manliness,
that should not love, to meet in. There is so much of
love in every wind-moved pulse which beats there, that
the heart must own a tripple crust of worldliness to brave
its influence.

At last Mrs Maylie’s eyes became opened to the truth,
but she was saved the trouble of expostulation by the
timely interference of her wealthy sister; and so Nora
was borne away to other scenes. Before she went, how-
NORA MAYLIE. 121

ever, the moon witnessed a very solemn meeting between
herself and Will Waters; there were vows, and tears,
and comforting words, and baseless castle-building enough
~ to occupy long hours ; and then, with promises, the fif-
tieth time repeated, and other words whose meaning was
derived from the breath that bore them, the lovers parted.

“For ever?”

We shall see.

Was it strange, then, that Nora Maylie did not love
the city ? that her aunt’s splendid drawing-room was a
prison to her, and the mustachioed things, caught in the
trap the sharp lady was setting for her benefit, a living
annoyance ? There was one thing in Nora’s favour ; she
had an inexhaustible fund of good feeling. She could
never bear to see even her enemy (Nora was not con-
scious of having one, however) unhappy, and so she could
not be thoroughly unhappy herself. While we feel an in-
terest in a single living being, we are many a good league
from misery. Nora felt an interest in a great many.
Her aunt treated her with habitual kindness, and for her
she had gratitude ; her gouty uncle was more like a bear
than a human being, and for him she had pity; a great
many persons shewed her infinite respect, for which she
returned an overflowing measure of the same, with a
mingling of something warmer; and the few that loved
her she loved with all her heart. Oh, no! Nora was
not miserable, but she was sad—sometimes very sad; for
her thoughts, in gaiety or loneliness, were full of Will
Waters and her own quiet home. Nora was still de-
termined not to be made anything of.

And Will? What of him ?
122 NORA MAYLIE.

He turned from Nora Maylie on the evening of their
last meeting ; and, standing beneath the bass-wood where
he had first met her, he spread open his heart and cha-
racter to his own inspection. Long and serious was the
examination ; and then, with the centred light of his
proud eye mocking the stars above him, his fine face full
of animation, and his head elevated with a consciousness
of his own powers, he bounded from the love-charmed
circle, leaped the creek, and bent his way homeward.
Determination was in his firm step, and hope glanced
from every lineament of- his face. Mr Waters had mea-
sured off an elder son’s portion a few years previous, and
why might not Will hope the same favour? The next
morning he asked, and was refused. Moreover, he was
made to understand that if he married ‘that shiftless
Maylie girl,” he should not have a cent “ to the longest
day he lived.”

It was very impolitic as well as disrespectful in Will
Waters to make the answer he did; and, for one, I do
not blame the old gentleman for snubbing him for it.
But Will had never been used to such things, and he
had no idea of being made a little boy of, in his three-
and-twentieth summer ; and so, after a few more words
hotly peppered with anger, he turned on his heel and
walked away.

‘A year and a half have I worked on this farm since
I might have been doing for myself, and all for nothing,”
muttered Will, as his eye wandered over the closely-
shaven meadows, and the fields of grain, with their up-
right sheaves, many of which had been bound by his
own hand,
NORA MAYLIE, 123

‘6 Well, I have you yet,” and he stretched out his
strong arm, and regarded it for a moment very affection-
ately; then reaching it above his head, he twisted off
a heavy bow and lodged it far away in the meadow.

“ Ha! ha!” laughed Will, regarding his own feet with
the most decided approbation, and clapping his hands
together, ‘ shall I beg of an old man, whose acres are
his all, with such things as these to carve out a fortune
with ? No, no! Will Waters is not a beggar yet ;” and
he trudged on right manfully.

That winter there was one axe rang from the woods
from dawn till nine in the morning, and from four till
darkness made the trees almost invisible ; and the re-
maining hours the axe was sheltered beneath a little
wood-shed beside the village school-house, while its
owner presided within. Every body remarked that a
wonderful change had come over Will Waters. And
what was to be his reward? How was fair Nora Maylie?
Did she stand the winter’s test of gaiety? At first,
though surrounded by a crowd of admirers, she seemed
to have no preference ; all passed alike before her; but,
ere winter set in, Nora had grown partial. One by one,
her suitors stood back for the favourite, till Nora scarce
ever appeared with anybody but young Horace Dacre.
It was said that there was an engagement in the case,
that the seal of the ring would soon be appended; and
Nora took no pains to deny the charge. Neither did
Nora’s aunt. On the receipt of a letter from her sister,
Mrs Maylie looked up her best cap, and went into the ex-
travagance of a new silk gown. The next she heard was
that Dacre was married, and that her daughter had had
124 NORA MAYLIE.

a very narrow escape—she was a bride’s maid, How
angry aunt, and mother, and Rachel, and Matilda, and
Susan, and Mary were with Nora! and how Nora, and
the sly bridegroom, and shy bride, congratulated them-
selves on the success of their provoking ruse amour.
Oh! there must have been a spice of evil aljout Nora,
notwithstanding her quiet ways. Two-thirds of the
winter had gone, when the astonishing dénouement took
place ; and there was a most glorious fishing-season well-
nigh lost through the silliest of girlish freaks. Nothing
daunted, however, the manceuvrer resolved to gather up
the scattered fragments of time still left her ; and, to
prevent imposition, she took the cards into her own
hands ; and she played so adroitly that a fortune soon
lay at Nora’s feet. Nora would have put it beneath her
feet, had she consulted only her own feelings on the oc
casion—not that she had any particular dislike for a for-
tune, but there was a certain jncumbrance upon it that
she did not like. So Nora, like the foolish girl that she
was, refused the whole.

But as fast as Nora said no, Nora’s aunt said yes; and
as the affirmative could boast superiority in years, Mr
Lever (the lady’s principal objection to the fortune) was
inclined to think that the affirmative had it. Still Nora
was obstinate, and her aunt was obstinate, and Mr Lever
was obstinate; so it was thought proper to have Mrs
Maylie’s counsel.

Early in the spring, the dressmaker, the milliner, and
the two school-mistresses, were called home to put the
farm-house in order for the reception of important guests.
It was reported far and wide that Nora Maylie had
NORA MAYLIE. 125

come home to be married ; a version of matters in which
popular gossip invented less than the lady’s own friends.
When they told Will Waters, he smiled contemptuously ;
and when they told his father, he smiled too, and said
he hoped his son would return to reason now. When,
however, Nora came home, accompanied by her aunt and
Mr Lever, the face of Will Waters grew anxious, and
his smile lost its complacency.

And now Mr Lever had plenty of assistants in his
wooing, and things would have gone on swimmingly, had
not Nora possessed the most provoking of pliable natures.
Had she only stormed, and declared that she would
sooner die; that they might kill her, but she would never
commit such horrid perjury, there would have been some
hope; but when Nora, with her sweet, low voice, re-
peated every day, ‘‘ it cannot be, mother,” Mrs Maylie’s
heart grew faint, and she was almost tempted to give up
the contest. Her sister, however, was more persevering ;
and finally, affairs were brought to a crisis. The father
was called in, and, being urged on all sides, he at last
resorted to authority.

“ Obey ! or you are no child of mine!” was the stern
paternal injunction.

Poor Nora! should she accept the splendour that was
dazzling all eyes but hers, and by the favour of those she
loved most dearly? or should she go forth upon the
world an outcast, orphaned by worse than death, friend-
less and penniless ?

“ You shall have my answer to-morrow,” was all that
Nora said.

The sun had just looked his last good-night, aud many
126 NORA MAYLIE.

a bright cluster of golden rays was loitering in its way
heavenward, when Nora Maylie, attired in her simplest
muslin, and with the little straw hat she had worn the
summer previous, tied under her chin, stole from the se-
clusion of her own chamber, and glided like a spirit across
the fields. When she had reached the old trysting-spot,
hedged in by the blackberries and witch-hazel, she pushed
aside the bushes, and knelt upon the roots of the now-
budding bass-wood. Then she arose and passed on.
She crossed the brook on the stepping-stones, and hurried
over the springy ground beyond, until her feet were
pathed in the cold draught held by the deceitful soil ;
and on she went, still more hurriedly, until her father’s
broad lands all lay behind her. Climbing a fence, Nora
was just losing herself among the stately patriarchs of the
forest, when she heard her own name pronounced in
tones more of wonder than gladness, and she stood face
to face with Will Waters.

“Twas—was going to the village,” remarked the
lady, her large eyes turning doubtfully to her lover’s,
and veiling themselves in alarmed perplexity at the cold-
ness they encountered.

Nora did not know how many tongues had been busy
with the ear of Will Waters.

“T will not detain you,” was the answer, and with an
iyonical smile and a low bow the young man vacated the
path.

“But I hoped—to—to meet—you there.” Nora stam-
mered excessively, and the colour went and came upon
her cheek with strange precipitancy.
NORA MAYLIE. 127

6 Me!”
“Ts it so very strange, then? I have gone down to
the knoll by the brook many a time to meet you, Will.”

?



‘Ay; but then you were

“Then I was happy in home and friends—now I have
neither—you have taught me—not one.”

“Nora?”

“You may as well know it, Will—though it matters
but little now. I came out to tell you that, without your
protection, I have nowhere to go! I came to ask your
advice—your—your—”

“Without my protection, Nora? I do not well see
how that can be; but, were you ten times dyed in false-
hood, you should not ask it in vain ;” and the young
man’s arms were extended, as though, if their shelter
could yet be accepted, they should be a shield that none
of the ills of life could penetrate.

Nora did not draw back, nor yet advance, for she was
stricken to the heart by this suspicion, where she had ex-
pected the confidence and sympathy so much needed.
The large, round tears broke from their dark-fringed
enclosure, and followed each other silently, gemming her
palpitating boddice ; while the lady answered, almost in
a whisper, ‘* I do not ask it now, Will! Oh, you are so,
so changed !”

“ Tt is not J, Nora—look into your own heart if you
would know where the change lies. But, perhaps—per-
haps—” and now there was a strange eagerness in the
tones of Will Waters—‘ if there should be a mistake,
Nora! if they have belied you! if

A sudden flash of joy lighted up the face of the young


128 NORA MAYLIE.

man. His supposition became at once reality, He had
been a fool, and she—he did not say what ; but his arms
were a little farther advanced and folded over, and Nora
Maylie lay within them. Not a word of explanation was
necessary now, for heart was beating against heart, and
they told their own true story. But words were spoken,
nevertheless, so low that the light-winged zephyr sitting
upon the lip could scarcely hear them; yet they proved,
beyond a doubt, that Will Waters and Nora Maylie were
both unchanged. And so—and so—

Weare intruders, dear reader ; let these foolish lovers
have the next hour to themselves.

The hour is passed, and Will Waters and Nora are
beneath the bass-wood.

““ And if you cannot effect this most cruel compromise,
dear Nora, you will meet me here at ten to-morrow e

6 T will.”

‘Do not promise them too much, Nora ; do not quite
cut off all hope. You are right, 1 suppose ; I know you
must be; but it is a hard thing for me to consent to. I
would not have believed that I ever could.”

“You would not but that it is right, Will.”

See that touchingly sweet smile accompanying the
lady’s words! Will Waters cannot resist it, and he ac-
knowledges, with almost idolatrous zeal, who taught him
right; and so, with mutual blessings, they part.

The compromise ?

Nora had decided that her friends had no right to
force her into a marriage which her heart did not sanction,
and therefore that she ought to resist it firmly. On the
other side, as the bestowal of her hand on Will Waters
NORA MAYLIE. 129

involved no point of conscience, obedience was her first
duty. This may sound like cold reasoning ; but it was
arranged with many tears, even with sobs, there in the
little chamber, and it was whispered with anything but
coldness in those dear old woods. And, strange enough,
the gentleman consented ! Notwithstanding he had be-
come estranged from his own father, and for six months
had been in the neighbourhood of his home without once
stepping his foot over the threshold, he could not but
consent to a measure which seemed so much a matter of
course to Nora, that he was ashamed to offer more than
a score of objections.

The next morning, while yet the clock was on the
stroke of ten, Nora Maylie pushed aside the witch-hazel
and dog-wood, and placed her hand within that of Will
Waters—a mute acknowledgment that he was her last
and only friend ; and Will accepted the sacred gift as a
man should do, Carefully he led her down to the road-
side, where a carriage stood waiting them, lifted her to a
seat, and they drove away to the village.

There were tears in the eyes of the fair bride who stood
in parson Lee’s little parlour that morning ; and a proud,
happy resoluteness in the whole air and manner of the
bridegroom, softened and subdued by an appreciation of
the touching trustfulness that had possessed him of that
quivering hand, And so they went forth, they two, with
but the rewards of his winter’s toil to buy them bread,
and with scarce a voice to cheer them on their way.
How everybody laughed when it was reported that Will
Waters had borne his unuseful bride to the wilds of the
far west! As though Will Waters, with his strong arm

I
130 NORA MAYLIE.

strong spirit, and his sweet Nora, with her loving heart,
could not make a pathway for themselves in the wilder .
ness !

Please make me another pen, ’Bell; this story drags
shockingly.

Not finish it, did you say? Why, people will think
they starved there in the woods, or the wolves ate them
up, or, at least, that they encountered the ague and
fever.”

‘¢ Which is not true ?”

Which is not true. I have called Nora Maylie my
friend, and so she is, though we did not quite grow up
together. ‘The first time that I ever saw her was on the
morning of her marriage. The holy man had just put
the ‘‘ amen” to his prayer, when one whom we both
love, ’Bell, sent me to the village with a pretty bridal
bouquet, and I had the honour of presenting it myself.
The kiss on my cheek, and the light touch of that soft
hand upon my head, was quite enough to secure my lit-
tle heart for ever, even though I had not. loved Will
Waters as children usually love those who pet them
most; My mother took the young couple into the fa-
mily, sympathized with and advised them, and wafted
many a prayer westward after they had gone.

We never heard that any bad luck happened to Will
Waters ; but somehow no news came of his having planted
a city, or given his name to a village, or of having
gained emolument to himself; and so it was generally
supposed that the young couple were having plenty of
time to repent their folly.

It was eight years last spring since Will and Nora
NORA MAYLIE. 131

were married, and a year this summer since I saw them.
I never forgot Nora's sweet bridal face ; and when, by
the aid of a dashing steamer, I had measured nearly all
the links in the great northern chain of waters, you may
be assured that I was quite willing to look upon a per-
son that I had seen before. And, after jolting all day
in a big, springless waggon, and sleeping at night in a
villainous garret, lighted by four panes of glass, that
would not shove, sharing my breathing-stuff with a dozen
others—pah! I will never subject myself to such things
again, "Bel!

* 27"

Perhaps I would for a sight of those glorious old
woods and magnificent prairies—nothing short. But, as
I was saying, after all this, you may well suppose that I
would be grateful for any corner, however small, where
the fresh air I revelled in by day might not be wholly
shut from me at night.

We expected to find our friends in rather low circum-
stances, and so we inquired at every log hovel for Mr
Waters, and every time were answered, “ farther on.”
Everybody scémed familiar with the name. We had
left the last of these western edifices about five miles be-
hind, when suddenly our road changed its character ;
and from having ‘ two wheels in the gutter and two in
the air,” our clumsy vehicle righted itself, and jogged
along on all fours with very decent sobriety; at the
same time we found ourselves in a fine clearing. A robe
of variegated gold and green, flounced by a fold of silver
in the shape of a creek, with here and there groups of
trees looking into it, was spread out to our view; and
132 NORA MAYLIE.

we turned questioning glances on each other, wondering
if this could be the possession of Will Waters. There
was an air of thrift about it that said nay; while many a
little tasteful arrangement—shade trees left standing
where they should be; the brook made to shew its bright
mischievous face at bewitching intervals; a beautiful grove
on a rise of ground beyond, which looked as though it
was intended to be made something yet more beautiful ;
with a thousand other proofs of a care for something less
important than clearing the land and raising good crops,
made us waver in our opinion. There was a clump of
green that we could not make out in advance of us; and
as we drew near, we called on the driver to slacken his
pace while we endeavoured to satisfy our curiosity ; and
what think you it was? Why, a magnificent avenue,
fenced in by stately old elm trees, and leading up to the
most charming little bird’s nest that ever nursed such wee
witching things as we saw frolicking among the vines
over-arching the door-way. Curiosity stood on tip-toe,
and J went up the avenue to repeat the inquiry we
had so often made before. We saw him tap at the
door, and caught a glimpse of a white dress through a
crevice. Ina moment he turned back, accompanied by
a charming woman, who glided over the hard pathway
with singular gracefulness. We knew our old friend
Nora at a glance, and we did not allow her to reach the
end of the avenue before we had her in our arms, She
was scarcely changed. There was the same warm, soul-



full expression in the varying eye; the same loving smile
upon the lip, with a deeper happiness pourtrayed in
every lineament of her eloquent face; a richer hue of
NORA MAYLIE. 133

health upon her cheek, and a feeling in every glance and



movement. J whispered me that there was soul in
the very touch of that foot, as it kissed the earth; and a
more careless observer than J would have detected

the soul in the turn of the white neck, and the carriage



of the classic head.

And the bright creatures at the door? The young
mother presented them to us with all a mother’s love and
pride, and we were not inclined to undervalue her jewels.

The house was built of logs, carefully caulked, and
was white-washed inside and out. Very simple and un-
pretending was it, with its low walls buried by the cling-
ing grape-vines which had been brought thither from the
wood. And there were marks in the pretty garden-
patch of Nora’s ‘ little spade and little hoe,” as well as
of implements wielded by a heavier hand. The lady,
doubtless, found more beautiful flowers in the woods of
Iowa, than those which had received her girlish homage
in New York. It was a very pleasant room into which
we were ushered; but simply enough furnished for the
cell of a hermit, A piece of furniture answering to a
bureau stood against the wall, surmounted by a small,
well-filled book-case ; beneath a window, shaded by
a snowy muslin curtain, was a couch, evidently an ar-
ticle of home manufacture, cushioned with a pretty
calico ; and beyond this, directly beneath a plain, cher-
ry-framed mirror, stood something like a dressing-table,
so completely covered by its simple cloth, that eyes
less curious than ours might not have discovered the
white pine feet below, and so judged it to be the work
of the couch’s artisan. Mrs Waters had indulged in
134 NORA MAYLIE.

one luxury; those handsome porcelain vases on either
corner of her dressing-table were not useful things, for
they could not have been purchased for no earthly pur-
pose but to hold the flowers which were now making
the air of the apartment rich with their perfume. Pos-
sibly, however, they were a present from her husband,
made sometime after encountering unusual luck in trad-
ing off his grain. On the same table stood a willow
work-basket, with the hem of a little cambric apron
lying up against its rim ; and chairs of basket-work, and
a very pretty carpet, evidently a recent purchase, com-
pleted the furniture of the apartment. Not quite, how-
ever. There was another table now occupying the centre,
with a snow-white cloth spread over it, and upon that a
simple repast, lacking but the smoking tea-urn, and the
cakes, which, from the peculiar flavour emanating from
the room beyond, we knew to be in a course of prepara-
tion, My eyes (I must acknowledge it, though I be set
down as a table-lover from this day forth) turned from the
golden-hued butter, and the delicious strawberries peep-
ing their dainty crimson heads from the sweet cream in
which they nestled so provokingly, to the promising
kitchen, and back again, with wondrous eagerness, when,
lo! a scream of delight from the little watchers in the
door-way, and a new comer was introduced among us.

That wild Will Waters !

Wild enough to be sure he seemed then, with his
heartily-expressed joy at seeing us; but how came he by
that unstudied polish, that courteous manner, that je ne
sais quot which marks the gentleman—how came he by
it here in the wilderness, where his whole business must
NORA MAYLIE. 135

needs be felling trees and ploughing land? So did not
Will Waters leave us. He was bold and blunt then, and
notwithstanding his many engaging qualities, had but
little more refinement than his neighbours ; but now,
though his manliness had not suffered by it, you would
have believed that he had been a metropolitan for a life-
time. It was strange, unaccountable—ah, no! not un-
accountable. We turned to the sunny face of the wife ;
we marked her singularly quiet air, the choice words and
delicate sentiments that she uttered; then the sweet,
carefully-dressed and carefully-taught children, and the
neatly-furnished apartment ; and the riddle was unfolded.
We saw for whom that pure white dress had been donned
‘1 the close of the day, for whom the little muslin collar
had been taken from the drawer probably half an hour
before, and for whom the glossy braids of hair were so
carefully adjusted about the fine head.

Blessings on sweet Nora Maylie! True, she was no
genius ; and she could not become a teacher, nor a mil-
liner even; neither was she of the material to be moulded
into a woman of fashion; but she was a most charming
wife and mother. We found her a charming hostess,
too, and lingeringly did we turn from her sunlit door.

When a poet again inquires, ‘‘ Where is happiness ?”
I will point him to a little log cottage, nestled among
wild grape-vines, in the far-off woods of Towa.
BORN TO WEAR A CORONET.

Some people are born to wear a coronet, no doubt ;
but why such things happen on this side of the Atlantic,
where plain, simple, republican blood alone is allowed to
pass current, I cannot imagine. Yet that such things
do actually occur here, I am certain, and so would you
be, dear reader of mine, if you had ever seen Rosina
Brown. Well do I remember her—a tall, dark-haired
maiden, in the first half of her teens, with a form re-
markably well developed, an easy air, and a very peculiar
manner of carrying a head which was in reality a very
fine head, when it was not thrown back so far as to de-
stroy the equilibrium of the figure. In school-girl phrase,
she was a magnificent creature, with hair like the raven’s
wing, and eyes to match, features of nature’s most ex-
quisite workmanship, a queen-like figure, and a step like
Juno’s. People less enthusiastic would have said that
she was a very fine girl, who, if she did not spoil herself
by disagreeable airs, might become a useful and accom-
plished woman. We were not so tame and common-
place, however; and, from the dignified Miss Martin,
who had come to Alderbrook “ merely to review her
studies,” down to us lisping Peter Parleyites, we all re-
garded such equivocal encomiums with the contempt they
BURN TO WEAR A CORUNEI. 137

merited. Oh! how we did lament the vulgarity of
American society, and deprecate the debasing sentiment
which is the corner-stone of our government. But for
those ‘ rusty-fusty old men,” who put their heads to-
gether, as old men are for ever doing, to destroy all the
dear delightful romance of life, by making believe that
all the people in the world are born free and equal, our
splendid beauty might have been at least a countess.

“The head of Zenobia!” Miss Martin would sigh,
and, “* Such a head!” came the echo from lip after lip,
with a half-lisped finis from the baby-pet Fanny Forester.

Alas! that Nature, who it is generally believed may
be implicitly trusted in matters touching pedigree, should,
on this occasion, so far forget herself as to send a model
for a princess of the blood royal across the water, where
women are expected to wash their own dishes and scrub
their own floors !

It must have been some awkward mistake, and I have
since come to the conclusion that Miss Rosina Brown
was intended for the Queen of England, and the more
simple Victoria for Miss Rosina Brown. Be that as it
may, many were the fresh-hearted, simple-souled little
damsels who threw up their pretty hands in ecstacy at
every sentiment she uttered, and heard her animadvert
on fashion, refinement, and, above all, aristocracy, with
staring eyes and gaping mouths. Among these did Miss
Rosina move a queen, though deprived of any other
court. We understood the contraction of her brow, the
drawing up of her neck, and the curl of her lip perfectly
well; and unfortunate indeed was the stranger who, by
some peculiarity of voice or manner, or the display of
138 BORN TO WEAR A CORONET.

some article of dress not precisely in accordance with our
sovereign’s taste, call down upon herself these unequivocal
marks of disapprobation. But Miss Brown—(if her title
must needs be simple Miss, pray why could n’t it have been
Neville or Montfort, or something that had at least a
shadow of nobility about it ?)—Miss Brown, with all
her holdings forth on aristocracy, could not have defined
the word any better than two-thirds of the brilliant
misses and ambitious mammas that have so well nigh
exhausted the theme by their continual harpings, both be-
fore her day and since her settlement. She knew that
aristocrats were a touch above the vulgar; that they lost
caste by making themselves useful ; that they should not
come in contact with—with—well, even I, her pet pupil,
have forgotten whom ; but it is a class whose traits it is
given them to understand intuitively, That aristocracy
is a shadowy word to me yet; for it is enveloped in
the misty veil of Miss Brown’s explanations. I think it
conveyed the idea of some exclusive privileges, I do not
recollect what, and a particular way of bowing and
curtsying, I have forgotten how ; whether it had anything
to do with the curl of the hair, or bend on the bridge of
the nose, I cannot say; but it certainly had» with the
curvature of the lips, for I recollect one sweet girl was
voted plebeian by Miss Brown’s court, because, after
numerous lessons, she could not throw up the corners of
her pretty mouth, as my Zikka does when angered by
the bit. Neither do I know whether high birth had part
or parcel in the matter of making an aristocrat, but I
half suspect in theory it had; for I remember one young
lady who was considered an unfit associate, because her
BORN TO WEAR A CORONET. 139

father was a ‘‘ vile mechanic ;” and Miss Brown carefully
concealed from us the fact, that her dear papa was
the same Adam Brown, the flower of his profession, who
had graced so well the character of ‘¢ mine host,” proud,
rather than ashamed, of the gilt letters emblazoned on
the swinging sign before his door. Adam Brown was a
worthy, pains-taking man, kind and affable, and very
much of a gentleman withal, having not the slightest
suspicion that his business was incompatible with the
maintenance of that character. Neither was his fair
daughter troubled with any qualms about the matter ;
but she flitted like the gladsome thing that she was
among the numerous visitors, laid the snowy cloth, served
the tea, and performed the thousand other offices that
none can grace so well as a sweet little girl, flashing with
spirit and dimpling with good humour. Indeed, though
afraid of scandalizing myself by the expression of such a
sentiment, I do more than half suspect that much of Miss
Brown’s Zenobian grace was picked up in this very man-
ner. Ifshe did not owe the shape of her head to the
duties of the hostel, she certainly did the carriage of it ;
and not a coroneted brow in Christendom could bear its
honours more proudly than she the clustering wealth of
her own black tresses. But things were not destined to
continue long in such an even course. Adam Brown
died, lamented as men who “ act well their parts” always
will be, and left his daughter an heiress.

It was a sad day when our clique of exclusives was
broken up by the loss of the nucleus round which we
gathered ; but we all promised never, never to forget
Rosina Brown, and kept the promise as well as school-
140 BORN TO WEAR A CORONET.

girls usually do. Ina short time rumour brought to our
ears something, I scarce know what, about her marriage;
and, one by one, most of us followed in her wake, till
scarce a heart in our little band but beat the echo to
another’s throbbings. Then we were scattered widely ;
none but us “ little ones” remaining at Alderbrook, and
we were of course so fluttered at the idea of growing up
into womanhood as to forget our a-b-c days entirely.
Even our little keepsakes found their way into the ashes,
or at best some old bag or oaken chest in the garret ;
and scarce a trace remains to tell of bygone days, ex-
cept, now and then, a faded flower within the heart,
which the dews of memory cannot soften into life. Thus
lasting are the friendships founded on a momentary
fancy, and nourished by flattery. Sometimes I felt some
interest—not curiosity, oh, no !—in the fate of my dear
Rosina ; but I always quieted myself with the reflection
that she must be the star of some proud circle ; and, if
truth must be told, I had become so in love with the
quiet, simple beauties of our darling Underhill, that I
valued her estate but lightly, however high it might be.
But of its elevation I doubted not; and when fame con-
descended, now and then, to waft the name of some
beautiful lady, one who was the cynosure of all eyes in
her own land, across the Atlantic, I involuntarily in-
quired if she were not American born.

More than a dozen years had passed when I took a
journey to the far west. Oh! those wild, luxuriant
woods! Every pulse within me dances at the remem-
brance of them, and even yet my heart flutters like a
eaged bird in sight of its own free heaven. How I
BORN TO WEAR A CORONET. 141

clapped my hands, and laughed, and shouted in baby-
like glee, until the old woods rang with ten thousand
answering echoes. Then how I sat and dreamed, till
fancy transported me to gay Sherwood, and I detected
among the changing foliage the Lincoln green, and
started at every leaf that rustled, expecting to see peer-
ing out upon me the face of bold Robin Hood, or some
one of his merry foresters. Oh! beautiful wild, wild
west! I love thee, not ‘despite thy faults,” but, as
rare Elia did things scarce more loveable, “ faults and
all.” LI love even thy corduroy roads, mud and under-
brush, log houses without windows, quizzing inhabitants,
and gruff, bragging hosts, who think it very strange that
people can have any objection to sleeping a dozen in a
room, particularly if it be summer, and that room has
no air-hole but a chink in the wall, made for the especial
benefit of beetles and musquitoes.

We had left Will Waters’ fine farm away in the dis-
tance, and commenced our return home. Oh, such
roads! Our ample waggon was like a miniature ark of
particularly clumsy make, now rising on the tip-top of a
pillow, and suddenly sinking almost out of sight. Then
we had an over-turn, and that was the climax of
the day’s enjoyment; for nobody was hurt, and every-
body laughed, and perpetrated stale witticisms and
laughed at them again; till the birds were no doubt
convinced that upsetting a big travelling-waggon is one
of the rarest sports we humans engage in. Next the
horses, panting as though worn out by their own strong
will, set their forward feet stubbornly down, refusing to
part company with the turf even for an instant; the
142 BORN TO WEAR A CORONET.

driver flourished his whip and swore roundly, the gentle-
men coaxed the horses, soothed the driver, and laughed
with us, who, with comical glances, half of mirth half of
anxiety, nibbled the tips of our kid gloves and wondered
what we should do, ‘Then all at once one prying fellow
of our party announced that a spring was broken, a pin
lost, or something of that sort had occurred, which
women are sure to get wrong if they mention it after-
wards ; to which the provoking driver responded that a
horse had lost a shoe. And so, as in duty bound, we
all laughed again, not heartily, as before, but a nervous,
hysterical laugh. The gentlemen looked perplexed ; we
cast sidelong glances at the woods, as though the wolves
had already smelt out our discomfiture, and were only
hiding behind the nearest trees till night-fall ; and the
driver used harder words than ever. A consultation was
now held, rather short to be sure, as consultations are
apt to be when there remains but one path to choose ;
and then each gentleman tucked his lady under his arm,
and on we jogged as merrily as before. It might be
five miles, indeed it might be twenty, to any human
habitation, but no—it was only one. A neat log cabin,
situated in the very centre of a paradisal bower, its
white-washed walls nearly concealed by woodbine and
eglantine, loomed up from an expanse of cleared land ;
and, all at once, our rejoiced party discovered that we
were very tired, and could not have lived to walk farther
than this one mile. Beautiful dark-eyed children, in
neat, coarse dresses, were playing about the cottage,
and interrupting with the cry— Oh ! look here, father !”
‘Father! Robin has hit the target !”"—a tall, sun-
BORN TO WEAR A CORONET. 143

embrowned, intellectual looking man, who was reading
in the doorway. We were cordially welcomed by this
man, and shown into a little room full of flowers and
green bushes, through the leaves of which the hot air,
made heavy by the weight of the sunshine, cooled itself
and dallied lovingly with the flowers, then came to play
about us who knew so well how to appreciate both its
freshness and its perfume.

“¢ A little paradise !” whispered I.

“ Almost equal to the nestling-place of your friend
Nora,” returned J—, in the same tone.

“ A pretty good house-keeper for the woods, I ima-
gine,” added another of our party.

‘ House-keeper, indeed! Who would think of a
housekeeper’s arranging all this? It was undoubtedly
some little sprite with taste enough to prefer such a
bright spot to fairyland!” And I tossed my head in
make-believe playfulness ; but, im reality, feeling quite
resentful that any one should think of such prosaic things
as house-keeping in a place like this.

So I looked about among the foliage for my silvan
deity, but nothing was there more fairy-like than a
domesticated robin, which, perched on a fresh bough that
waved above the snowy pine mantel, was practising a
little duet with its partner in the fragrant bass-wood,
just beyond the court-yard fence. But we had no more
time for observation or remark, Our hostess, a young
woman of dignified, matronly air, as unlike a fairy as
anything you can imagine, came in to welcome us ; and,
shortly after, we were seated around a plenitful board,
smoking with hot corn cakes, and the most fragrant im-
144 BORN TO WEAR A CORONET.

perial, and—oh! didn’t we do justice to these same?
And did the fresh cream, and the strawberries, and the
snowy cold bread for those who preferred it, and the
raspberry jam, or any of the other nice things, suffer
from neglect ? During the repast, the fine eyes of our
hostess frequently turned on me, and there was such a
peculiar attraction in their deep darkness, that mine in-
variably met them. Then there was a little blushing, a
little confusion on both sides, and a resolution on my
part not to be so rude and stare so again. After tea we
repaired to the little embowered parlour, while our hos-
tess was ‘ putting things to rights,” and in less than a half
hour were joined by her and her husband. They kept
up an interesting conversation, but I was silent and per-
plexed. There was something in the face, air, and man-
ner of this woodland lady that was familiar ; and at the
same time I was sure that I had never seen any one so
dignified, so self-possessed, and yet so simple and unaf-
fected in every word and movement. I ran over my list
of acquaintances that had ‘ married and gone west ;”
but no, it was none of these.

‘“ Fanny,” exclaimed J., somewhat impatiently, “ are
you dreaming? I have spoken to you three times with-
out getting an answer. Our host tells me that his wife
spent some of her school days at Alderbrook.”

‘© At Alderbrook ?”

It came like a flash of light...

‘¢ Rosina Brown !”

‘‘ My little Fanny!” and we were locked fast in each
other’s arms.

My countess, my queen, here in the wilderness, actually
BORN TO WEAR A CORONET. 145

washing her own dishes, and sweeping the floor of her
own log-house, and ‘ not always with a civilized broom
either,” as she laughingly asserted. Only think of it!
Of course I was astounded ; and no wonder that I did not
venture on asking a single question, while she overpowered
me with a whole volley. But at midnight, when all were
alseep within, and the stars alone kept watch without
(Rosina assured me that there was not a wolf in the whole
neighbourhood), we stole away, and beneath the silent
trees renewed our former intimacy.

“© And so you wonder,” said Rosina, ‘‘ at my being
here. Well, so do I sometimes ; but oftener I wonder
why I am so happy, so contented, so willingly circum-
scribed in my wants and desires, and yet so free in soul
and fancy. Believe me, Fanny, I never before knew a
single day of such pure, unalloyed happiness as I have
enjoyed every day since we sheltered our pretty birds
within this forest nook. Don’t you think they are pretty,
Fanny? ‘They stole their red cheeks from the dewy
flowers, and their bright eyes have grown brighter by
looking on the beautiful things about them. Then these
stately old trees have made them thoughtful and deep-
hearted ; and they are little musicians too, vying with the
woodland minstrels in melody.”

‘‘ Perfect cherubs—and so happy and healthful ! i?

‘‘ Yes, happy, and healthful, and frolicsome, as the
young colts you must have passed when you wound around
the bend in the creek. They used often to be sick, and
_ I watched beside them until all the colour was gone from
my cheek, and I acquired this stoop in my shoulders—

see! I never shall be straight again !” ‘
146 BORN TO WEAR A CORONET.

© Oh! I should not observe it at all—it is very slight
indeed, and you will soon overcome it. But do tell me
how it happened that you, of all others, should marry a
farmer, and—and—”

“A poor man, you would say. I did not.”

And then I listened to a story, of which I should never
have dreamed that Rosina Brown could be the subject.

Rosina had met Richard Merrival several times before
she came to Alderbrook, and their acquaintance was re-
newed every vacation. So when she had “ finished,” and
he threw off the student and was admitted to the bar, it
was no great wonder that he pleaded his first cause in
the queenly presence of Rosina Brown. It were a pity,
indeed, if such a handsome young barrister should plead
in vain; and so Merrival ensnared his lady-bird, and
bore her away to town; and there, in an elegant man-
sion, surrounded by every luxury, their chief study seemed
to be how to make everything about them more luxurious
still. At length their means failed, and Merrival applied
to his father. But this fountain of wealth was dry. Fail-
ure had followed up the old man’s golden schemes, and
Richard Merrival and his father were beggars. Rosina
saw herself falling ; she knew that the magic circle of
which she had been the brightest star was shutting her
without its pale; the glittering bubble, which, in her
girlish days, she believed it the chief aim of her life to
grasp closely, was crushed within her hand. All that
was bright, all that was gladsome, all that was worthy
of possession in this world—every meteor that for long
years she had gazed upon and believed a sun—all the
roses that had clustered so luxuriantly about her path—
BORN TO WEAR A CORONET, 147

all receded now, and the world lay stretched out before
her, a wilderness. And yet, an old friend came, one
who had loved her when a little girl in the inn by the
way-side, and she would not know him. No! come
poverty, come beggary, come starvation even, —these
should not bow her spirit to go back to things she had
despised. She could suffer, but she would not bend.
And so the old friend went away, and Rosina wondered
where she should find bread for her children.

But Merrival, though he had spent years in idleness,
was gifted and eloquent. He knew that his profession
was a fortune in itself, and he gathered strength, as
manliness ever does when struggling with obstacles.
With a heart somewhat lightened, he sat down by his
humble fireside at evening, to gain sympathy from the
loved ones. But discontent and misery were there. His
wife complained ; his pampered children missed their ac-
customed luxuries, and they complained also ; recrimina-
tion followed between the husband and the wife, and they
lay down to rest with hearts full of bitterness toward each
other. When the whole world is the object of bitterness,
the individual is never spared.

Weeks passed, and Richard Merrival grew gay again ;
but it was over the cup of death. His laugh was long
and loud, and his eye had a fearful sparkle in it—a flash
that every one knew was but the kindling of pent-up
misery. The little cottage grew dark and darker, the
loving heart grew desolate; but on the top wave of
anguish rode always the harrowing thought —‘‘ Bread,
bread for the little ones whom God has given me !”

Months—years went by, and Rosina was a drunkard’s
148 BORN TO WEAR A CORONET.

wife! Not a tithe of the degradation of such a lot was
abated ; but the bitterness of her spirit was drowned
in sorrow. She had watched day and night by the bed-
side of innocence, and she grew gentle in such an atmo-
sphere. Then she laid two of her sweet nurslings in the
grave, and so 4 link was forged between her heart and
heaven.

A change came over Merrival. Poverty had taken up
its abode by his fireside ; suffering and sorrow were there,
but none of these had driven him thence. It was the
bitterness of crushed pride ; and that was a guest there
no longer. He laid his hand upon the icy forehead of
his dead child, his first-born darling boy, and took upon
his soul a vow, and that vow never was broken. And
now behold them, pale and weary, but calm and hopeful,
wending their way to the far west, where they might for-
get their vain dreams and their degradation together.

‘We are yet poor in gold and lands,” continued
Rosina, ‘“‘ but are rich in health and peace, in our
children, and in each other. And now, my dear Fanny,”
she added, as we turned toward the house, ‘‘I am as
aristocratic as ever. We lord it over the natives of these
wilds, the birds and beasts, as though we were peers of
the realm—Nature’s realm—and claim the exclusive pri-
vilege of making each other happy, and of offering our
humble roof to the stranger benighted in these woods,—
privileges which not a living thing about us ventures to
exercise.”

‘‘ But do you never long for society, Rosina?”

* Society ?”

She led me to a couch where two living rose-buds,
BORN TO WEAR A CORONET. 149

two bright-lipped sleeping Hebes, lay nestling in each
other’s arms, and throwing back rich clusters of golden
curls, kissed cheek, and lip, and forehead,—a gentle,
loving pressure, so mother-like that a tear sprang to my
eye, for I seemed again lying in my own little cot at
Alderbrook.

‘‘ Look at these, Fanny; and my two noble boys!
What more society could I desire, unless it be his! I wish
you knew my husband, Fanny. I used to boast that he
was a perfect gentleman, and so he was; but that is an
abused term, and now I know the highest praise that I
can offer is that he is a man /—in heart, and soul, and
intellect, a man—full of integrity, and courage, and
strength, and truth—in short, my little Fanny, he is, as
I suppose every loving wife thinks of her lucky Benedict
—the one man in the world !”

It was almost morning when Mrs Merrival and myself
gave the good-night kiss, and turned away to dream of
our school-days at Alderbrook.

When the sun arose, and the discovery was made that
we should be detained a whole day and night longer in
our parlour-bower, my resignation on the occasion en-
titled me to become patlern-woman for the whole party ;
and our hostess looked anything but sad at our discom-
fiture. It was a happy day; and, when evening came
again, I no longer wondered that Rosina was satisfied
with her society. In the course of the day I took a peep
into the little library, composed of a few choice volumes,
to which the Merrivals had clung in weal and woe ;
walked into the garden and viewed, not only the wall-
flowers and sweet-peas, but the beans and cabbages ; and
150 BORN TO WEAR A CORONET.

then went to the log barn across the creek, and brought
in our own hands the fresh eggs that were served up for
dinner. I learned, also, that Master Robert Merrival,
the active little fellow who had just ‘‘ hit the target,” on
our arrival, mounted the pony Roger every Saturday, and
rode off fifteen miles to the nearest post-office, whence he
returned well laden with papers and letters.

Another morning came, and we turned with reluctance
from our: parlour-bower, and with still more reluctance
from the dear ones who had constructed it, to pursue our
journey. The adieus, the prayers and prophecies, the
clasping of hands and kissing of lips, I will not attempt
to describe ; neither the heart-swell that it took so many
miles to calm; for I would not leave a tear here at the
close of my tale. So we parted, the Alderbrook Zen-
obia and her little worshipper. A strange throne that of
rare Rosina Brown’s!”—her hut away in the green
Well!
I will not brave a strait-jacket for the sake of having



wilderness. And yet—and yet, I do believe

my say; but whatever mistake Fortune may have made
in the execution of her plan, of one thing I am certain,
my proud-browed friend was at least born to wear a
coronet. J. says I am mistaken; that I must be think-
ing of her husband’s ‘‘ crown.”
DORA’

Eves, like a wet violet, nestled among profusion of
the softest-hued Persian fringes, and hair, gathered from
the elfin fields of Erin, and combed and twisted into
waves by fairy fingers—such had Dora’! Then those
lips, with their sad sweetness, and the love-thought in
each corner! and the pale polished cheek, and vein-
crossed forehead !

Sweet, delicate Dora’ t—-much do I fear, that such a
vision of loveliness will never again appear at Alder-
brook.

It was years and years ago that Dora’ moved among
our mothers here, with a step like a fawn’s, a head erect
and earnest, like a wild deer on the look-out for the
huntsman, and a face full of half-joyous, half-solemn
surprise, such as Eve must have worn when her foot first
crushed the dews and flowers of Eden. Beautiful was
Dora’, as a dream which turns from the daylight to
nestle in some young heart, or a thought that refuses to
syllable itself in clumsy words; and yet, beautiful was
she never called ; but all paused and looked upon her as
she passed by, and smiled, and owned a stronger power,
though they knew not what it was, than that of beauty.

Stand by me, reader, and follow the direction of my
152 DORA’.

finger, over the bend in the brook, and along the white
cloverfield to the foot of that little knoll with the two
elm-trees on its crown. Do you perceive the top of a
chimney peeping from the green things piled up there,
like a monument to a Silvan? You may not discover
it, but I, who have looked so many times, know that
little speck of reddish brown to be a chimney. Well,
beneath is the smallest pattern of a human shelter that
your eyes ever lighted on; now pretty much gone to
decay, and grown entirely over with moss and hop-vines,
I have heard that a white rose-bush once quite over-
topped the front corner, and sunflowers innumerable
peeped their yellow heads above the eaves at the back ;
and I have myself a distinct remembrance of stopping to
admire the trumpet-honeysuckle, that years ago graced
the door-way; but not a flowering thing opens in that
vicinity now. There, all alone, once lived Aunty’
Evans; a good, gentle old woman, who, for the want
of better things to love, kept always about her a
family of kittens, chickens, rabbits, and tame pigeons.
Besides this, she used to make gingerbread for the little
people that always looked in upon their way from school,
and supply the whole village with sage, rue, and chamo-
mile, from a garden that would have been no wonder in
Lilliput. Aunty Evans could not have been said to be
without the means of living, for she fed herself, and not
unfrequently her less industrious neighbours, with the
proceeds of her busiest of all busy needles. One day,
a letter, marked on the outside, ‘‘ in haste,’’ was sent her
from the village post-office ; and, in an hour after, the
fire was extinguished upon her hearth, the latch-string
DORA’. 153

drawn, and Aunty Evans, for the first time in her life,
found herself in the stage-coach. In a few days she re-
turned with a pale, sad little girl, all in black, and was
‘nvited at once to a grand tea-party, for curiosity’s sake.
But the old lady had only a short story. A friend had
died, and bequeathed her an only child.

‘ Has she money?” asked the gossips.

Aunty Evans said ‘“‘ No;” and then they all shook
their heads and looked mysterious ; and somehow, in
few minutes, though there could be no connection be-
tween it and the other subject, they were all talking
about the new and excellent regulations which had been
made at the almshouse. Aunty Evans expressed herself
very glad that the poor children were to be better cared
for; and thereupon sipped her tea without further con-
cern, That subject was immediately abandoned, and
the conversation took an unaccountable turn, calculated
to overthrow entirely the doctrine of association, for
somebody began talking about the price of plain needle-
work. Most of the ladies were of the opinion, that a
sempstress could no more than support herself comfort-
ably ; and if by chance she did accomplish more than
that, it was her ‘ bounden duty” to lay by the surplus
for a ‘¢ rainy day.” Aunty Evans appeared to listen to
all this very composedly ; but in reality her thoughts
were a little absent, She was planning the number of
shirts she should be obliged to make, in order to send
the litle orphan, Dora’, to the best school in the village.

Dora’ was sent to school; and forthwith, the pale
child became as great a favourite as Aunty Evans her-
self. Dora’s voice had a tone in it, like the stroke of a
154 pora’,

silver bell reaching us through a medium of tears; and
she might always be found, whether under the cherry-
tree, at the back of the school-house, or nestled in a
rich clover-bed, or seated on the spotted alders by the
brook-side, with a group of children about her, singing
the little songs that she learned of Aunty Evans. How
deliciously sweet was that voice! And though the words
could claim to be of no higher order than

“ Little bird, with bosom red,
Welcome to my humble shed :”

Or,
** Pretty bee, busy bee,
If you’d but sing to me.”

Many a stern old man paused to listen, and many a busi-
ness woman raised her red bandana to her eyes, as those
clear, touching tones fell, despite the crust above it, on
her heart. The women did not know why they were thus
affected ; but Aunty Evans would have told them there
was a shadow within, from which that voice stole its
touch of sorrow, and which, later in the day of her life,
would fall back upon her heart.

Aunty Evans might, quite unknown to those about
her, have been a prophetess; but Dora’ went on, year
after year, singing all the time more and more sweetly,
and with more touching pathos, while the shadow, if any
there was, must have been nearly melted by the neigh-
bouring sunshine, One individual, considering himself
somewhat wiser than his neighbours, whispered at length
to some others, that the peculiarity in Dora’ Evans’s
voice was the despairing plaint of prisoned genius ; but
Alderbrook had no citizen mad enough, even though all
DORA’. 155

had credited the suggestion, to bind the child for this to
a lot of splendid misery. Dora’s neighbours knew little
of raising a God-given power to that point of famous
infamy, where even its admirers are privileged to jest
about it ;—they were common men, and had never learned
that it is the misfortune of genius to consume itself in a
bonfire, that others may be amused by its coruscations.
So Dora’ went on singing every Sabbath in the village
choir, singing at the fireside of Aunty Evans, and sing-
ing at the social gatherings in the village ; always thank-
ful, and rejoicing that she had a power which could make
herself and everybody else so happy. Thus passed year
after year, until Dora’ was fifteen ; and the shadow had
as yet settled on neither heart nor brow.

Dora’ sat upon the knoll that I have pointed out under
the two elm-trees, circled by a row of young faces, all
turned earnestly and lovingly to hers.

“ Sing it again, Dora’! do! do! just once again, dear!
it is so pretty!” went the pleading round; and Dora’
smiled, and began to sing.

That morning a stranger had reached Alderbrook by
the stage-coach. He wasa small man, slightly moulded ;
with eager piercing eyes, two wrinkles passing from their
inner corners half-way up the forehead ; an aquiline nose,
sallow cheeks, and thin lips always pressed closely to-
gether. Though he could scarcely have attained the
middle age, he was slightly bald ; frequent threads of
silver mingled in his black hair and beard ; and upon his
face there was many a line, the work of a more hasty
156 DORA’.

pencil than time carries. Just as Dora’ commenced her
song, this man was hurrying along, with his usual quick
step, close beside the fence. As the first strain fell on
his ear, he raised his eyes, and cast up to the clouds,
and away into the tree-tops, a glance of eager inquiry.
Again it came, and again; and a smile full of beautiful
delight broke over the listener’s compressed lips, and a
fire was kindled in the centre of his now dilated eye,
which seemed burning back into his very soul.

“ Ha!” he exclaimed, as his glance fell upon the
pretty group cresting the green knoll; and then he
crossed his arms upon his breast, lowered his earnest
brows, and bent his ear to listen.

The stranger did not leave Alderbrook that day ;
neither did he then continue his walk ; but returning to
the ‘« Sheaf and Sickle,” as soon as the little party be-
neath the elms was broken up, he possessed himself of
all his landlady knew concerning the rustic songstress.

‘Such a voice!” he muttered, as he strode up and
down the piazza; “such compass! such delicacy ! such
pathos! she would madden them. It would be a gene-
yous deed, too—poor orphan!”

He passed on, his steps growing every moment quicker,
and his eyes more eagerly bright. “Ay, ay! I will do
‘+! I cannot leave such a diamond in this desert i"

That night the artist tapped at the humble door of
Aunty Evans; and drawing his chair alongside the old
lady, unfolded his plans. She listened coldly.

«The child is well with her mother—she cannot go.”

“ But such a gift, madam!”
DORA’. 157

“A gift from God! it is a sin to tamper with it.”

“ Ay, from God!” answered the artist solemnly; “ it
is a sin to leave it unimproved.”

An hour was spent in fruitless argument, when the
composer suddenly inquired, ‘¢ But what says the young
lady herself? let her speak.”

‘¢ Yes, let Dora’ answer,” returned Aunty Evans, tri-
umphantly. ‘Thank God! I may trust her! what say
you, my child?”

“« What sayest thou, gifted one, to the glorious art r

Dora’s face was buried in the folds of muslin that hung
about the little window, and at first she did not raise it.

¢¢ Speak as you would have it, darling,” said the old
lady softly, drawing near, and bending over her idol.

Such dreams as had been swimming in the young girl’s
fancy! Such a consciousness that every word the com-
poser had said of her wondrous power was true! Such
an irresistible longing to give utterance to an undefinable
something that she had always felt struggling within her !
How could she resist it? Dora’ loved her kind foster-
mother; but now there was a fever at her heart, and
her brain was in a whirl. She raised her eyes. How
changed were they !—the soft, meek dewiness had passed
—they had grown larger and darker, and wore an in-
tensity of meaning, a depth of feeling and purpose, that
made them strange to Aunty Evans. The love-thought
had almost vanished from the corners of the mouth; the
lips lay apart like two lines of burning crimson, the upper
drawn up and knotted in the middle, and a spot of bright
red glowed in the centre of each pale cheek. Dora’ did
not speak. It needed not that she should.
158 DORA’,

“The shadow is falling!’’ murmured Aunty Evans.
‘*My poor, poor Dora’! Oh, I have had a fearful
watch !”

She folded the child in her arms, kissed her hot cheek,
placed her hands upon her throbbing temples; and, say-
ing to the composer, ‘‘ She will go with you,” motioned
lim to leave them alone.

Aunty Evans was not so ignorant of worldly things as
to trust her precious charge, without due precaution, to
the keeping of a stranger. She possessed herself of ample
knowledge concerning the character and standing of the
composer ; and was very exacting in all her arrangements
for the child’s welfare—evincing a lynx-eyed policy that
she had never been supposed to possess. Above all, she
insisted on her being allowed to return to her humble
home at any moment she should express the wish. So
Dora’ went away from Alderbrook, and Aunty Evans
was left alone.

Bright Summer passed in her glory—melancholy Au-
tumn laid a worn head upon the bosom of Winter, and —
with sighs yielded up the spirit—and Winter came on
with his cold breath and blazonry of jewels. Six months
had passed away since Dora’ sang to her companions on
the knoll beneath the two elm-trees. Now she stood in
a luxuriously furnished apartment, the soft flaxen ringlets
shading her delicate throat as of yore, but with little else
to mark her identity with the violet-eyed child that had
sung in the fields at Alderbrook, The pale, earnest face
of the composer looked out upon her admiringly from a
pile of cushions at the other end of the apartment; and
DORA’. 159

she was aware of the gaze, and seemed bent on gratifying
him; for her small hands were clasped with unwonted
energy, and determination burned in her cheek and
flashed from her eye. She stood near a piano at which
a stranger was seated; and, after his fingers had passed
over the keys, her voice broke forth in all its olden
melody. But now it was subject to her control ; now
she knew the fecling that she would express, and her
voice became but the wings to bear it out. The pri-
soned genius had found utterance. Was Dora’ happy
row? Out upon such simplicity! How could it be
otherwise? Was she not about to entrance a world?
What blissful emotions would creep into a thousand
hearts at listening! And would not the enchantress find
an all-sufficient reward in the adulation of millions? Ah!
Dora’, Dora’! bend thy brow to the halo! tread upon
the roses! Never think how the first may darken ; how
the last may shrivel and fall away from the sharp thorns
beneath them! ‘The path has been well trodden and
watered—pass on !

The good composer, Dora’s friend, was dead.

It had been published far and wide, told in the draw-
ing-room and in the coffee-house, in the private parlour
and in the public saloon, in hall, alley, and shop, lisped
in the boudoir and cried in the street—everywhere, in all
the places where the virtuous dwell and vicious hide
themselves, it had been told that a new star had arisen
in the musical horizon; and those who would never care
for the artiste on account of her art, were told that she
160 DORA’,

was young and beautiful. What a crowd came out to
greet the first appearance of our star! Should she not
have felt honoured? Lights flashed, jewels blazed,
plumes waved and nodded, smiles sped to their destina-
tion, or lost themselves upon the air, and all—for her !
Not one, not one! Poor Dora’! even in her triumph,
how desolate ! |

A burst of applause greeted her appearance ; and, for
a moment, her heart bounded, and her eye flashed with
gratified ambition. Then rows of faces gaped upon her
from pit, box, and gallery ; eyes were strained, and glasses
levelled, and the young songstress felt the warm blood
mounting hastily to her forehead. Poor Dora’! even in
her triumphs how humiliated !

She sang as she had ever sung; for genius is always
conscious of its own sacredness, and will not be stared
down by bold impudence, nor raised up by admiring
plaudits. She sang, and garlands fell at her feet; and,
all night long, the applauses of that multitude rang, like
the idle mockeries that they were, in her ear. Was it
for this she had toiled, and hoped, and given her better
nature up to a withering ambition? Was this her tem-
ple in the clouds, now dissolving in its own nothingness—
a thing of vapour, bound together by a chain of gilded
water-drops? The wings were melted, and Icarus was
fast approaching the Agéan. What a blessing that
mankind so seldom reach the goal of hope! The chase
is glorious—in empty, unsatisfying success lies the curse.

It was the anniversary of the evening on which Dora’
had resolved to turn from the bosom of her foster-mother
DORA’. 161

to the world which was beckoning her. A light was
burning on the white pine-table, and beside it sat Aunty ~
Evans, her Bible on her knees. She appeared older,
much older, than on that night twelve-month. Thought
had cut strange lines upon her face, and deepened the
look of simple good nature, once so conspicuous there, to
one of earnest, almost painful solicitude. ‘The door was
open, and the fragrance from the honey-suckles and
roses stole into the apartment ; but Aunty Evans thought
not a word of the honey-suckles and roses. She was
indulging most painful reflections. A passing figure
rustled the vines, a shadow fell across the door-way, and
a light foot pressed the threshold; yet Aunty Evans
looked not up.

‘‘ Mother! mother !—I have come home to you—I
am sick, Jam weary! Give me a place, mother—a
place to die !”

There were sobbings and tears, half joyous, half heart-
broken, in the little cottage that night; and in the
morning all the villagers gathered to look upon the
returned idol. How changed! Poor Dora’! it is need-
less to follow thee to the grave. The spirit that, finding
food nowhere on earth, turns and eats into itself, can en-
dure but a little time ; and we will be more thankful for
the natural light that again beamed in thine eye, and the
natural feeling that slumbered about thy lips, than sorry
for thine early loss. ‘Thy rest is among the flowers,
where the bees steal their sweets, and the birds spread
their wings to the sunlight.

Sleepest thou not passing well, young Dora’?
TWO NIGHTS IN THE “NIEUW NEDERLANDTS.”

It was on the night of the 25th of February 1643,
that a middle-aged man, with an honest, frank, sun-
browned face and a powerful frame, sat and warmed
himself by the kitchen fire in the governor’s house at
Fort-Amsterdam. He was singularly uneasy; every now
and then clenching his fist and moving his nervous arm
as in angry gesticulation; while his fine eye turned from
one object to another with a kind of eager dread, and
his naturally clear, open countenance was drawn into a
scowl compounded of various strong emotions. He was
alone, and bore himself much as though belonging to
the household ; for he certainly could not have been
greatly inferior to its master in point of dignity. All
within doors was perfectly silent—painfully so, it seemed
to the stern watcher—and within, the heavy, monotonous
tread of a sentinel, at a little distance, gave the only
evidence that the pulse of the young city had not ceased
its breathings. At last, the man drew from his pocket a
massive ‘* Nuremburg egg,” and held it up to the light.

“Twelve o’clock — five — almost ten minutes past!
Thank God, if their hellish plan has miscarried!”

A long, loud, terrible shriek, as of a multitude of
voices combining their agony, came up from the distance
TWO NIGHTS IN THE NIEUW NEDERLANDTS. 163

even as he spoke; and, dropping the watch upon the
stone hearth, the listener sprang with an exclamation of
horror to his feet.

‘God forgive me, if I curse my race and nation! It
is a deed worthy of the devil—and they call themselves
men and Christians !”

He strode up and down the long kitchen, his brows
knit and his hand on the hilt of his sword, muttering, as
he went, ** Without the consent of the committee !— in
the face of my protestation as its head !—the bloody-
minded littleness of the assassin !—creeping upon the
defenceless at midnight !—why, their savage doings at
Swanendael and Staten Island were Christian deeds to
this! If evil come, if evil come of it, Wilhelm Kieft,
thou shalt be the first sufferer, if there be strength in the
hand of Pieterszen de Vries to push thee from thy kennel.
Dog! base dog! Nay; I belie the brute to name thee
so, cowardly blood-sucker that thou art!”

He opened the door, and, walking forth, mounted the
parapets. The cries of suffering and terror had entirely
ceased ; but the noise of fire-arms came from Pavonia,
and gleams of light flashed from the opposite shore and
gilded the waters of the bay.

‘‘ A mighty feat, indeed! ‘worthy the heroes of old
Rome!’ Noble Kieft! thy employers shall have a full
account of these brave doings.” ‘

The speaker felt a hand upon his shoulder.

‘* Wa, De Heer! I am glad to see you,”

‘‘ But you should have slept, my good Lilier ; you will
have cause to think lightly enough of your adopted home,
without seeing this.”
164 TWO NIGHTS IN THE

‘¢ What means it, De Vries?”

“ Our gallant Director is desirous of making himself
famous; and so has concocted a piece of villa~v that no
buccaneer captain on the high seas would stain his s:onour
withal.”

“‘T thought an enemy had been surprised, and”



“An enemy! no, Lilier, a friend! Let us go im—
the air smells of murder, and I cannot bear it.”

“JT do not understand you. What is it?”

“Treachery. More than one hundred of our friends
and neighbours, Indians from Tappaen and Wickquaes-
geck, lay down in sight of the fort to-night, never
dreaming of harm; and they have all been murdered in
their sleep.” |

‘‘ Not by white men ?”

‘“‘ By Kieft’s soldiers.”

‘“‘Dastardly! Such things should not be suffered.”

‘‘ How are they to be avoided? The Company care
but little for our interests, farther than our prosperity has
a bearing on their commercial enterprises.”

“They ought to be made to listen ; for if a better and
more prudent man be not selected to take charge of the
colonies, the abuses of Van Twiller, as you used to re-
count them to me in Holland, will find more than a
parallel.”

‘¢ Wouter Van Twiller was a thrice sodden fool; yet
he had a man’s heart in his bosom, and his errors were
the result of weakness, not vice; he had no taste for
lapping up human blood. We have men to govern us
in the East Indies, but here they give us nothing but
blockheads and serpents.”
NIEUW NEDFRLANDTS. 165

By this time the two men had gained the kitchen fire,
and the light was shining full upon their faces. The
companion of the patroon:was a very young man, of
‘slight figure and delicate features, and withal a high-bred
air, which denoted his patrician rigin. His leading
characteristic seemed to be extreme gentleness ; and cer-
tainly there was nothing in the large blue eyes and bright
golden curls that fell about his neck, instead of being
gathered into a queue after the fashion of the Hollanders
(if the observer could but shut his eyes on an occasional
drawing in of the lip and swell of the nostril), indicative
of superior manliness. Yet (and the bold voyager knew
it and loved him for it) in that very bosom slept materials
for a hero. So might have looked the voluptuous king
who dallied away his time among fountains and flowers
and singing girls; but became a lion in the hour of peril,
and, building his own funeral pile, clung to his throne
till both were ashes. Yet the comparison is not a fair
one, for Lilier, if gentle as a girl when there was no cause
for the exercise of deeper qualities, was also as pure.
With a spirit deeply imbued with religious fecling, he
had early embraced the sentiments of the Huguenots ;
and when a mere boy had turned to Holland, the asylum
of the persecuted of all creeds and nations. There he ~
had met with De Vries, then master of artillery in the .
service of the United Provinces, and afterwards the hardy
voyager and discreet colonist. There was something in
the bold chivalrous character of this enterprising ‘man, to
whom, as the historian Bancroft has it, Delaware owes
its existence, that made him a kind of lion-hearted
Richard to the Frenchman. Hence a warm friendship
166 TWO NIGHTS IN THE

sprang up between them ; for which the impulsive ro-
mance of the one and the steady sternness of the other,
offered ample materials. De Vries seemed ever ready
to regard his young friend with the affectionate interest
of a parent; while, at the same time, particularly in the
presence of strangers, he preserved towards him a defer-
ence of manner which men were ready enough to set
down to the account of high birth.

The Hollander had spread open his broad, tough palm
to the genial blaze, and was watching in gloomy silence
the flickering light coquetting with the rafters above his
head, apparently without a thought of his companion,
who leaned pensively against the pictorial tiles in the
chimney, when the door was suddenly pushed open, and
two persons sprang into the centre of the kitchen. ‘The
first was a tall savage, nearly naked, his face painted
with colours of red and black, a snake-skin bound around
his forehead, a tuft of coarse plumes on his head, and
tomahawk in hand; the other was a female. She cast a
timid glance about her as she entered, and glided quietly
‘nto the shadow of the chimney, as though shrinking
from the bold glare of the light. Not so the man.
Recognizing the patroon, he planted himself at once be-
fore him, and unhesitatingly claimed his protection.
They had come from beyond the Tappaen, he said, he
and his brother warriors, with their women and children,
and encamped at Pavonia ; but the Maquas, their ene-
mies from Fort-Orange, had come upon them in the
night, and murdered all while sleeping.

“No! by heaven, Lickquequa,” exclaimed the honest
patroon, “you shall not so belie the Maquas. The fort .
NIEUW NEDERLANDTS. 167

1s no place for a skin of the colour that you wear; you
have run your neck into the trapper’s noose. It is the
Swannekins themselves that have murdered your war-
riors.”

The Indian laid his hand upon his tomahawk, and his
eyes glittered.

“Do you understand me? Your enemies are here—
within these very walls—they will send you to a better
hunting-ground than Wickquaesgeck.”

“Lickquequa will take a scalp with him,” said the
Indian, with a grim smile.

“¢ Ay, take it!” answered the patroon, lifting a mass ©
of grizzled hair from his forehead, and shewing a tempt-
ing line of white that presented quite a contrast to the
bronzed complexion below; ‘take it, and avenge the
foul wrong you have suffered to-night.”

The muscles in the face of the Indian relaxed just
sufficiently to evince his admiration, without compromising
his reputation for dignified indifference ; but Lilier had
too little knowledge of Indian character to read the emo-
tion correctly. )

“You are mad, De Heer,” he exclaimed earnestly ,
‘you never consented to this murder; you are the
Indian’s friend, and will get this man in safety from the
fort. Come, we will convey him through the back door,
and along "



‘We will convey him openly. Lickquequa is my
neighbour, and entitled to my protection. I will not
skulk and creep about for fear of Kieft and his blood-
hounds ; I will go out openly, with this man beside me ;
and, if any one attempts to interfere, I will shoot him.”
168 TWO NIGHTS IN THE

The Frenchman saw that it would be useless to dis-
pute the point, for De Vries’ blood was heated ; and he
followed the two men in silence. As they passed out,
and were about closing the door, the woman who had
escaped with Lickquequa, slid silently through the open-
ing and crept along in the shadow cast upon the ground
by the group before her. The young man beckoned her
to draw nearer, for it was prudent to make the party as
small as possible ; and, shrinkingly, the woman obeyed.
That was a beautiful face which raised itself beaming
with gratitude to Lilier’s, but in the next moment it was
nearly hidden in the embroidered mantle folded over her
bosom; for the Indian maiden was either very modest or
very timid. The gate was unguarded, and they passed
on without a challenge.

Lilier’s sympathies had at first been strongly enlisted
in the cause of humanity ; and now that cause was
scarce likely to lose anything by uniting youth and
beauty with it. There was a deep cast of romance in
his character, and this incident had sufficient romantic
interest in it, to combine with the witching hour and the
glittering moonlight in giving to his thoughts a colour
which he would have been ashamed to shew De Vries.
Thus it was that his manner to the fugitive Indian girl,
while studiously attentive, yet put on a delicate reserve,
which would have been peculiarly appropriate had an
honourable cavalier suddenly found himself the escort
and protector of one of the fairest dames of Europe.
Human nature is everywhere the same, of whatever hue
the cheek may be; and understands the language ad-
dressed to it, though the tongue may use a strange
NIEUW NEDERLANDTS. 169

jargon; but it was difficult to discover whether the
courtly manners of the young Frenchman were in this
instance appreciated,

When they had crossed a corner of the woods, and set
their fugitives safely on their way to Tappaen, De Vries
proposed taking leave of them and returning to the fort.

© Go,” said Lickquequa, coldly.

The maiden raised again her finely-sculptured head,
and as she did so, a bright moonbeam came glancing
downwards, revealing the rich complexion, the large,
mournful eyes, the finely-arched brows, and the luxurious
lips. It was immediately lowered again, and she fol-
lowed in the track of Lickquequa.

“She must not go alone, so ugprotected!” exclaimed
Lilier, looking at De Vries for approbation.

The patroon smiled.

‘‘ She is a woman, and the Indian takes no notice of
her.”

‘6 She does not want his notice, nor ours. She is in
her own palace now, and is growing quite the queen.
Look! see how freely and proudly she steps. She does
not crouch now, and would laugh at the very word pro-
tection. See! her path leads away from Lickquequa’s.
God grant that she has no father’s, or brother’s, or
lover’s death to avenge; for, Lilier, it is proud blood
that flows in those veins, and, if she would, she might
light a train with it that Nieuw Nederlandts would feel
to its centre. I know by her dress that she is the
daughter of one of their sagamores.”

‘¢ But woman’s words have no weight in the council.”

“Certainly not. These people, however, have such
170 TWO NIGHTS IN THE

broad ears when the cry is for vengeance, that a word
whispered in the wigwam may call into action a thousand
tomahawks.”

Lilier looked after the retreating figure of the Indian
maiden, and thought of Zenobia ; then he remembered
the glimpses he had of her face, and he walked back to
the fort by the side of De Vries without speaking a
word.

The treachery of the whites, as might have been anti-
cipated, met with a deadly vengeance. The exasperated
savages scoured the whole country from Nieuw Amster-
dam nearly to Fort-Orange; and houses, barns, and hay-
stacks made merry bonfires for them in the dead of
winter. Grain and cattle were destroyed ; men stripped
of their scalps and left bleeding at their hearth-stones ;
and women and children dragged, shrieking, from the
ruins of their homes and the corpses of the slain, to en-
counter cold, fatigue, and not unfrequently death, with
their unfeeling captors. In this state of things, De
Vries applied to the governor for soldiers to protect his
estate, but received only a promise.

“JT will go myself,” said the indignant patroon to his
friend; ‘one arm without dishonour is worth more than
a score of these paid murderers; and though they only
obeyed orders, poor fellows! I believe an honest man’s
hearth is better without them. Come with me, Lilier, in
God’s name, and we two shall be enough for Vriesen-
dael.”

A long and unsatisfactory conversation with the go-
vernor delayed the departure of De Vries beyond the ap-
NIEUW NEDERLANDTS. 17%

pointed hour ; but, at last, all was arranged, and the two
friends set off in a little boat together. The sun was
brightly beautiful, winter though it was. The trees, all
decked out in trappings of crystal, set off with brilliants
of every hue, leaned over the bank to see themselves in
the mirror below; and pencils of light, seemingly splin-
tered by contact with the cold air, scattered showers of
scintillations on the sheets of ice that bordered the little
sea, on the shivering water, and the snow-covered shore.
Evening came on, and the boat, notwithstanding a float-
ing block of ice that now and then threatened to upset it,
shot like a winged bird over the crisp water. A dip, a
elimmer of silver as the moonlight came to kiss the up-
lifted pinion, a broken chain of pearls—and down again
went the disappointed wing, to bear up with it the same
shattered treasures, and again and again to seek them,
till that little boat, with its steadily-plying oars, became a
struggling, living thing, bearing within it a restless human
spirit. On sped they thus, till, about the time of mid-
night’s coming, they shot into the swifter current formed
by the mingling of the waters, Rounding a miniature
cape covered with gigantic trees, they came suddenly in
sight of Vriesendael.

‘ Good God!” burst from the lips of the patroon ;
and, leaping from the boat, he dashed through the water,
and sprang, sword in hand, upon the bank. Lilier was
scarce a step behind him.

‘Hold, De Vries! stay! listen—listen to reason, De
Heer |”

‘‘ Reason! and my property on fire, my people mur-
dered, and perhaps my own family ! Curses on the bloody
172 TWO NIGHTS IN THE

policy of Wilhelm Kieft! It is his own hand that has.
set fire to Vriesendael.”

A fearful conflagration was indeed sweeping over the
little valley. The houses of the tenants, barns, haystacks
—everything combustible was now in a broad blaze; and
with the crackling of the flames, the crash of falling tim-
bers, and the occasional discharge of fire-arms, mingled
the triumphant yell of the maddened and revengeful
savages. ‘The first impulse of De Vries lasted but a mo-
ment, and then he collected all the energies of his power-
‘ful mind, and looked upon the scene with the eye of a
brave man accustomed to danger, and prepared to meet
just such a crisis as this. ‘The fury of the seyages was
now all directed towards his own dwelling, a strong
block-house with embrasures; and from the firing it
was evident that some of his people had taken refuge
there. If this could be reached, under his direction the
vengeance of the foe might be baffled; and to reach it
unobserved, and effect an entrance, became now the all-
important object. Keeping within the shadow of the
woods, they crept along, nearer and nearer the glaring
light, and nearer the yelling savages, treading down the
frozen snow and snapping the brittle twigs fearlessly ; for
it must have been a heavy sound indeed that would have
attracted attention at that terrible hour, As they passed
a jagged rock, casting a deep shadow on the ground, a
light tread, scarce heavier than that of a squirrel, at-
tracted the attention of De Vries; and at the same
moment he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. ,

‘‘ White chief, stay! no—no go! Lickquequa—he
save ; stay—stay !”
NIEUW NEDERLANDTS, 173

There was plenty of light to see the beautiful face of
the Indian girl, as these words with difficulty broke from
her lips; her warm, dark eye, with all its pleading ear-
nestness, turning from one face to the other; timidity,
everything but the touching interest of a gratefui heart,
entirely banished ; and her whole countenance eloquent
with truth and nobleness of purpose. De Vries half
paused to answer; but as he did so, a shriek rang out
from his own dwelling—a woman’s voice. In the same
instant a glittering tomahawk glanced past him; there
came a savage yell, and two dark forms sprang into the
red glare cast at his feet by the burning buildings. He
heard the wild, terrified scream of the Indian girl, a
groan, and a crackling of the underbrush as of something
falling ; and then with two or three bounds he left the
whole group far behind him. That other shriek !—the
voice was dearly familiar, and it drowned for the moment
every thought of the mere friend.

The tomahawk that had caught the eye of De Vries
struck the temple of Lilier. He reeled, clutched with
both hands at the vacant air, and plunged into the
crusted snow, stunned and bleeding. In a moment his
foes were upon him in all their savage fury; but the
heart of a friend is quicker and stronger than the venge-
ful hand of an enemy, even though there be a broad-
sword in it. The arms of the grateful Indian girl were
thrown about him—a beautiful defence ; and her cheek,
crimsoned with his blood, rested protectingly upon his
forehead. How earnestly simple was the tale she told,
her soul-full face looking up from the hair all matted
with the red gore! And how eloquently she pleaded for
174 TWO NIGHTS IN THE

her saviour! The savages paused, with their hands up-
lifted, clutching fast the instruments of death ; and be-
stowing a single glance on the girl, turned in astonishment
towards the block-house. The firing had entirely ceased,
and not a single savage yell was to be heard. In his
own opened door stood, strongly relieved by the full
light, the herculean figure of the hardy and courageous
patroon ; and before him, within arm’s reach, an Indian,
seemingly engaged in a parley. The strange silence also
arrested the attention of the girl. She raised her head,
and a ery of joy broke from the lips, and left them parted
with a bright smile.

“ Go!” she said in her own musical tongue, oo! it
is Lickquequa, and the white men are saved.”

She was right. The Indian, whom De Vries had led
from the fort on the night of the massacre, had repre-
sented the patroon as a friendly chief, who loved his red
neighbours ; and the Indians had already slung their
bows over their shoulders, and lowered their tomahawks
by their sides. The two savages looked again on the
scalp of the wounded man greedily ; but it was half-
sheltered by the beautiful person of his protectress ; and
they turned away and joined silently the dark body re-
treating from the besieged house.

As soon as they were gone, the girl bent tenderly over
her charge, putting her cheek close down to his lips, to
see if she could catch a breath upon it, and trying to
win, by the pressure of her slight fingers, a single an-
swering flutter of the heart. It came at last—a light,
faint tremour; and radiant was the flash of joy that
lighted up her face, radiant, and yet half-subdued, as
NIEUW NEDERLANDTS. 175

though the breath of a smile might be too strong for the
faltering wing of the half-reluctant spirit just poising it-
self upon the outer verge of life. Hastily she unbuckled
the sword at his side, slid his head from her knees, and
stole up the hill-side, among jagged rocks and broken
wood and crusted snow, till her practised eye recognised
the spot she sought. ‘Then kneeling down and digging
with her unwonted weapon into the bank, she laboured
patiently until she reached the ground. It was covered
with green leaves; and snatching a handful hastily, she
hurried back with them to her charge. Again raising
his head to her bosom, she washed the wound with the
soft snow gathered from beneath the crust ; and warming
the leaves between her hands, laid them gently upon it,
and bound them with her own girdle of wampum. Then
removing the mantle from her shoulders, she folded it
softly about his; and now clasping his icy hands, now
watching the uncertain breath that seemed every moment
ready to flit from his lip, she bent over him as tenderly
as a mother over the cradle of her first-born. And her
care was rewarded ; for long before De Vries could leave
his alarmed family and go out in search of the course of
his friend, the languid eyes of the awakened Frenchman
had turned helplessly to the dark, tearful ones watching
his slumbers ; and he had closed them again, more than
content with his resting-place. He slept, to dream of
that same beautiful face ; and she looked upon his closed
lids and dreamed too; such dreams as our first mother
must have had when she opened her eyes on Eden. It
was not an easy thing for the poor girl to resign her
charge when the white men came and took him from her ;
176 TWO NIGHTS IN THE

for she felt as though she had a claim upon that life
which her tenderness had won back to earth after the
last cord was loosened and the spirit’s wing lifted heaven-
wards.

Two centuries have passed, and the colours of by-gone
events are so blinded and dimmed, and in some instances
glossed over by modern fulsehood, that little more than
the crimson may be recognised. The heart of truth, the
eye of love, and the brow of beauty, are things that fade
from the earth, to write their names on the pages of
heaven. So is a holy lesson lost ; for though truth and
purity yet dwell with us, there is a poison in the breath
of the world that keeps them for ever hidden. ‘Thus
two beings who lived long

‘¢ *Mid trees and flowers and waterfalls,
And fountains bubbling from the moss,
And leaves that quiver with delight,
As from their shade the warbler calls ;”

who lived and loved in a luxurious wilderness, and passed
the golden autumn of their days, like the beautiful rich
things about them, can find no historian. Let their
memories rest with them—the halo has fallen on some
heart. Yet would any look upon a quiet, simple picture,
let them spend a day among the Helderburgs. I have
seen there a doting old lady, who loves to talk of the
flowery dell where she was born, and the happy genera-
tions that have moved among those flowers. If you
could induce her to pass down the river with you, she
NIEUW NEDERLANDTS. 177

would point you to an ancient tree, beneath whose young
shade a French Huguenot, of high birth and high virtues,
plighted his faith to the daughter of a proud Sagamore
living among the hills, And the old lady loves well to
boast of the French and Indian blood in her veins.
LUCY DUTTON.

Ir was an October morning, warm and sunny, but
with even its sunshine subdued into a mournful softness,
and its gorgeous drapery chastened by a touch of the
dreamy atmosphere into a sympathy with sorrow. And
there was a sorrowing one who needed sympathy on that
still, holy morning—the sympathy of the great Heart
which beats in Nature’s bosom—for she could hope no
other. Poor Lucy Dutton !

There was a funeral that morning—a stranger would
have judged by the gathering that the great man of the
village was dead, and all that crowd had come out to do
his ashes honour—but it was not so. Yet the little, old-
fashioned church was filled to overflowing. Some there
were that turned their eyes devoutly to the holy man that
occupied the sacred desk, receiving from his lips the
words of life; some looked upon the little coffin that
stood, covered with its black pall, upon a table directly
below him, and perhaps thought of their own mortality,
or that of their bright little ones ; while many, very many,
gazed with cold curiosity at the solitary mourner occupy-
ing the front pew. ‘This was a young creature, in the
very springtime of life,—a frail, erring being, whose only
hope was in Him who said, ‘t Neither do I condemn thee
LUCY DUTTON. 179

—go, and sin no more.” ‘There was a weight of shame
upon her head, and woe upon her heart, that together
made the bereaved young mother cower almost to the
earth before the prying eyes that came to look upon her
in her distressing humiliation. Oh! it was a pitiful sight!
that crushed, helpless creature’s agony.

But the year before, and this same lone mourner was
considered a sweet, beautiful child, whom everybody was
bound to protect and love ; because, but that she was the
pet lamb of a doting old woman, she was without friend
and protector. Lucy Dutton was the last blossom on a
tree which had boasted many fair ones. When the grave
opened to one after another of that doomed family, till
none but this bright, beautiful bud was left, she became
the all in all, and with the doting affection of age was
she cherished. When poverty came to Granny Dutton’s
threshold, she drew her one priceless jewel to her heart,
and laughed at poverty. When sorrows of every kind
compassed her about, and the sun went down in her hea-
ven of hope, another rose in a holier heaven of love ; and
Lucy Dutton was this fountain of love-born light. The
old lady and her pretty darling occupied a small, neat
cottage, at the foot of the hill, with a garden attached to
it, in which the child flitted all day long, like a glad spirit
among the flowers. And, next to her child-idol, the
simple-hearted old lady loved those flowers, with a love
which pure natures ever bear to the beautiful. It was
by these, and the fruit produced by the little garden, that
the twain lived. Many a fine carriage drew up before
the door of the humble cottage, and bright ladies and
dashing gentlemen sauntered beneath the shade, while
180 LUCY DUTTON.

the rosy fingers of Lucy adjusted bouquets for them, her
bright lips wreathed with smiles, and her sunny eye turn-
ing to her grandmother at the placing of every stem, as
though for approbation of her taste. Not a child im all
the neighbourhood was so happy as Lucy. Not a child
in all the neighbourhood was so beautiful, so gentle, and
so good. And nobody ever thought of her as anything
but a child. Though she grew to the height of her
tallest geranium, and her form assumed womanly propor-
tions, nobody, not even the rustic beaux around her,
thought of her as anything but a child. Lucy was so
artless, and loved her dear old grandmother so truly, that
the two were somehow connected in people’s minds, and
it seemed as impossible that the girl should grow older,
as that the old lady should grow younger.

Lucy was just booked for fifteen, with the seal of in-
nocence upon her heart, and a rose-leaf on her cheek,
when “ the Herman property,” a fine summer residence
that had been for years unoccupied, was purchased by a
widow lady from the metropolis. She came to Alder-
brook early in the spring, accompanied by her only son,
to visit her new possessions, and finding the spot exceed-
ingly pleasant, she determined to remain there. And so
Lucy met the young metropolitan ; and Lucy was beau-
tiful, and trusting, and thoughtless; and he was gay,
selfish, and profligate. Needs the story to be told?

When the Howards went away, Lucy awoke from her
dream. She looked about her, and upon herself, with
the veil taken from her eyes; and then she turned from
all she had ever loved ; for in the breaking up of those
dreams was broken poor Lucy’s heart.
LUCY DUTTON. 181

Nay, censor, Lucy was a child—consider how very
young, how very untaught—oh! her innocence was no
match for the sophistry of a gay city youth! And young
Howard stole her unthinking heart the first day he looked
in to purchase a bouquet. Poor, poor Lucy!

Before the autumn leaves fell, Granny Dutton’s bright
pet knelt in her little chamber, and upon her mother’s
grave, and down by the river-side, where she had last
met Justin Howard, and prayed for death. Sweet, joy-
ous Lucy Dutton, asking to lay her bright head in the
grave! Spring came, and shame was stamped upon the
cottage at the foot of the hill. Lucy bowed her head
upon her bosom, and refused to look upon anything but
her baby ; and the old lady shrunk, like a shrivelled leaf,
before this last and greatest of her troubles. The neigh-
bourhood had its usual gossip. There were taunts, and
sneers, and coarse jests, and remarks severely true ; but
only a little, a very little, pity. Lucy bore all this well,
for she knew that it was deserved ; but she had worse
than this to bear. Every day she knelt by the bed of
the one being who had doted upon her from infancy, and
begged her blessing, but in vain.

“ Oh! that I had laid you in the coffin, with your
dead mother, when all around me said that the breath
had passed from you !’’ was the unvarying reply; ‘ then
my gray hairs might have gone down to the grave with-
out dishonour from the child that I took from the gate
of death, and bore for years upon my bosom. Would
you had died, Lucy !”

And Lucy would turn away her head, and, in the bitter-
ness of her heart, echo, “‘ Ay! would that I had died !”
182 LUCY DUTTON.

Then she would take her baby in her arms, and, while
the scalding tears bathed its unconscious face, pray God
to forgive the wicked wish, and preserve her life for the
sake of this sinless heir to shame. And sometimes Lucy
would smile—not that calm, holy smile which usually
lingers about an infant’s cradle, but a faint, sicklied play
of the love-light within, as though the mother’s fond heart
were ashamed of its own throbbings. But before the
autumn passed, Lucy Dutton was fearfully stricken.
Death came! She laid her last comfort from her bosom
into the coffin, and they were now bearing it to the grave,
—she, the only mourner. It mattered but little that the
grandmother’s forgiveness and blessing came now; Lucy
scarce knew the difference between these words and those
last spoken ; and most earnestly did she answer, ‘* Would,
would that I had died!” Poor, poor Lucy!

She sat all through the sermon, and the singing, and
the prayer, with her head bowed upon the side of the
pew; and when at last they bore the coffin to the door,
and the congregation began to move forward, she did not
raise it until the kind clergyman came and led her out to
take a last look at her dead boy. Then she laid her thin,
pale face against his within the coffin, and sobbed aloud.
And now some began to pity the stricken girl, and whis-
per to their neighbours that she was more sinned against
than sinning. Still none came forward to whisper the
little word which might have brought healing, but the
holy man whose duty it was. He took her almost for-
cibly from the infant clay, and strove to calm her, while
careless eyes came to look upon that dearer to her than
her own heart’s blood. Finally, curiosity was satisfied ;
LUCY DUTTON. 183

they closed the coffin, screwed down the lid, spread the
black cloth over it, and the procession began to form.
Minister Green left the side of the mourner, and took his
station in advance, accompanied by some half dozen
others ; then four men followed, bearing the light coffin
in their hands, and all eyes were turned upon the
mourner. She did not move.

‘¢ Pass on, madam,” said Squire Field, who always act-
ed the part of marshal on such occasions; and though
little given to the weakness of feeling, he now softened
his voice as much as it would bear softening. ‘ This
way—right behind the—the—pass on !”

Lucy hesitated a moment, and many a generous one
longed to step forward and give her an arm; but selfish
prudence forbade. One bright girl, who had been Lucy’s
playmate from the cradle, but had not seen her face for
many months, drew impulsively towards her ; but she met
areproving eye from the crowd, and only whispering, ‘‘ I
do pity you, Lucy!” she shrunk back, and sobbed almost
as loud as her erring friend. Lucy started at the words,
and, gazing wildly round her, tottered on after the coffin.

Loud and slow, and fearfully solemn, stroke after
stroke, the old church-bell doled forth its tale ; and slowly
and solemnly the crowd moved on with a measured tread,
though there was many a careless eye and many a smiling
lip, turning to other eyes and other lips with something
like a jest between them. On moved the crowd after
the mourner; while she, with irregular, laboured step,
her arms crossed on her bosom, and her head bent to
the same resting-place, just kept pace with the body of
her dead boy. Winding through the opened gate into
184 LUCY DUTTON,

the churchyard, they went trailing slowly through the
long, dead grass, while some of the children crept slily
from the procession, to pick up the tufts of scarlet and
yellow leaves, which made this place of graves strangely
gay; and several young people wandered off, arm in arm,
pausing as they went, to read the rude inscriptions let-
tered on the stones. On went the procession, away to
the farthermost corner, where slept the stranger and the
vagabond. Here a little grave had been dug, and the
coffin was now set down beside it, while the long proces-
sion circled slowly round. Several went up and looked
into the dark, damp cradle of the dead child; one ob-
served to his neighbour that it was very shallow; and
another said that Tom Jones always slighted his work
when there was nobody to see to it; anyhow, it was not
much matter, the child would stay buried; and another
let drop a jest, a hard, but not a very witty one, though
it was followed by a smothered laugh. All this passed
quietly ; nothing was spoken above a low murmur; but
Lucy heard it all; and as she heard and remembered,
what a repulsive thing seemed to her the human heart !
Poor Lucy Dutton!

Minister Green stood at the head of the grave and said
a prayer, while Lucy leaned against a sickly-looking tree,
alone, and pressed her cold hands against her temples,
and wondered if she would ever pray again—if God would
hear her ifshe should. Then they laid the little coffin upon
ropes, and gently lowered it. The grave was too short,
or the men were careless, for tliere was a harsh grating
against the hard earth, which made Lucy start and extend
her arms ; but she instantly recollected herself, and, clasp-
LUCY DUTTON. 185

ing her hands tightly over her mouth, lest her agony
should make itself heard, she tried to stand calmly, Then
a handful of straw was thrown upon the coffin, and im-
mediately a shovelful of earth followed. Oh! that first
sinking of the cold clod upon the bosom we have loved !
What a fearful, shivering sensation does it send to the
heart and along the veins! And then the benumbing
faintness which follows, as though our own breath were
struggling up through that damp covering of earth!
Lucy gasped and staggered, and then she twined her arm
about the body of the little tree, and laid her cheek
against its rough bark, and strove hard to keep herself
from falling.

Some thought the men were very long in filling up the
grave, but Lucy thought nothing about it. She did not,
after that first shovelful, hear the earth as it fell; and
when, after all was done and the sods of withered grass
had been laid on, Minister Green came to tell her, she did
not hear his voice,. When she did, she pushed back the
hair from her hollowed temples, looked vacantly into his
face, and shook her head. Others came up to her—a
good-natured man who had been kind to her grand-
mother ; then the deacon’s wife, followed by two or three
other women ; but Lucy only smiled and shook her head.
Glances full of troubled mystery passed from one to ano-
ther ; there was an alarmed look on many faces, which
those more distant seemed to comprehend ; and still others
came to speak to Lucy. It was useless—she could find
no meaning in their words—the star of intellect had gone
out—the temple was darkened. Poor, poor Lucy Dut-
ton |
186 LUCY DUTTON,

They bore her home—for she was passive and helpless
—home to the sick old grandmother, who laid her wither-
ed hand on those bright locks, and kissed the cold cheek,
and took her to her bosom, as though she had been an
infant. And Lucy smiled, and talked of playing by the
brook, and chasing the runaway bees, and of toys for her
baby-house, and wondered why they were all weeping,
particularly dear grandmamma, who ought to be so happy.
But this lasted only a few days, and then another grave
was made, and yet another, in the poor’s corner; and the
grandmother and her shattered idol slept together. The
grave is a blessed couch and pillow to the wretched.
Rest thee there, poor Lucy !
MYSTERY.

Lire is all a mystery. The drawing of the breath,
the beating of the pulse, the flowing of the blood, none
can comprehend. We know that we are sentient beings,
gifted with strange powers, both intellectual and physi-
cal; capable of acting, thinking, feeling, comparing, rea-
soning, and judging ; but we do not know by what means
we perform these different functions, not even so much as
to comprehend how the simplest thought is originated.
The mind of an idiot—of one of the lower animals even
—is a study too deep for us. ‘‘ The goings forth of the
wind,” the ‘balancing of the clouds,” the living leaf
bursting from the dead brown stem, all processes of na-
ture, however common or simple, are beyond the grasp
of human intellect. Each of us is a mystery to self and
to the friends that look upon us. We raise an arm, and
we know that in that simple movement a thousand little
assistants are required ; but we do not fully understand
the philosophy of their application; and we are totally
ignorant of the grand principle, without which they are
cold, unfeeling clay. Our friends, too, are complete
mysteries to us. They are always acting as we were sure
they would not; and they move about complete em-
bodiments of mystery ; with hearts almost wholly unex-
plored, heads full of strange theories, and natures subject
fo incomprehensible impulses and caprices. Within,
188 MYSTERY.

without, around, we can comprehend nothing; we can-
not solve even the simplest thesis of nature, whether writ-
ten on the human constitution, or this earth builded by
the great Architect for our use. The past to us is chaos;
the present is a waking dream, in which ‘ seeing we see
not, and hearing we hear not ;” and the future is wrapped
in the deepest, the most impenetrable obscurity. We
know neither how nor for what purpose we exist; nor
what is to be the destiny of that principle within us which
every heart-throb proclaims to be eternal. When we
pause to think, our own shadows may well alarm us ;
and when we turn our dim, weak eyes on our own igno-
rance, even to our partial selves so palpable, we shall not
dare to sneer at the wildest vagary that the human mind
has ever engendered. Sneer! why, what know we, poor,
puny, imbecile creatures that we are! of truth or false-
hood, save that moral truth which stamps us the offspring
of the Eternal ; that unswerving trust which is our only
safety—our anchor while drifting on these dark, unknown
waters? There is none to solve the deep mystery of the
things about us; but we feel in the darkness the clasp of
a strong Hand. Oh, may we never strive to cast that
hand from us! In the far, far distance burns one Star.
Oh, may we never raise a cloud between its light and
our bewildered eyes! May we never, never forget, in
the midst of the mystery by which we are encompassed,
that ‘‘ we are not our own,” that we are not gifted with
the power of guiding ourselves; and may we yield the
trust of childhood to the sure foot, the strong arm, and
the all-seeing eye of Him who made us what we are, and

is leading us to the place where we may learn what we
have been and shall be
THE PRIEST’S SOLILOQUY.-
AN EXTRACT.

Ir is even so, thought the good old man, as the door
closed behind the misguided misanthrope ; this is a beau-
tiful world of ours, but it is the gilded cage of many a
fluttering spirit that, nevertheless, would shrink from
freedom if it were offered. Keyling is miserable, more
miserable than the poor wretch crouching amid rags, and
filth, and loathsomeness (for such suffering can bear no
comparison with mental agony), and yet he knows not
why. What matters it to him that the earth is green,
and the heavens surpassingly magnificent? He knows
that the impress of his foot will ere long disappear from
the one, and his eye close upon the other. He knows
that the flowers will bloom, the birds sing ; that summer
will flush the fields, and winter bring in turn its peculiar
attractions, when his heart is pulseless and his tongue
mute ; but he does not know that in the dissevering of
the silver cord is gained the freedom for which the spirit
pants. This world is too narrow for his soul to expand
in, and he feels cramped and chained ; yet, if the door
of his cage were flung open, he would tremble at sight of
the unknown space beyond, and would not venture out,
but cling to the gilded wires until torn away by the re-
190 THE PRIEST’S SOLILOQUY.

sistless hand of death. Earth never satisfied an immortal
mind; the “ living soul,” which is nothing less than the
breathing of Deity himself, can be satisfied but with in-
finity—infinity of life, action, and knowledge. Its own
feeble glimmer is enough for the fire-fly; and its wing
and voice, with the free heavens and beautiful earth, for
the bird ; they were formed by the Almighty’s hand, but
their life is not an emanation of his life, and their little
spirits “‘go downward to the earth.” But what can
satisfy the deathless soul immured in a clay prison, with
but clouded views of the finite beauties around it, and
wholly unconscious of its divine origin and final destiny ?
No wonder Keyling is miserable ; for he is blinder than
the untutored savage who “ sees God in clouds and hears
him in the wind.” For years he has been struggling for
a meteor; while it receded, he never paused or wearied ;
but, when his hand closed over it and he grasped a sha-
dow, the truth dawned upon his spirit; and, in the bit-
terness of its first perception, he cursed himself and cursed
his destiny. He hates the world, and himself and man-
kind, and talks madly of the death-damps, the grave, and
the slimy earth-worm, as though superior to their horrors;
but yet he is in love with life, as much as the veriest de-
votee of pleasure in existence. It is this panting for im-
mortality, this longing for a wider range, that makes him
sometimes imagine, in his impatience, that he is anxious
to lie down to his eternal rest and never wake. If his
spirit could but understand its heavenward destiny, if he
would learn to look beyond these narrow boundaries, if,
in despising the worthless, he would properly estimate the
high and imperishable, poor Keyling would find that even
THE PRIEST’S SOLILOQUY. 191

on earth there are inexhaustible sources of happiness.
Alas for the weakness of human nature! What a very
wreck a man becomes when left to his own blindness and
folly! The loftier the intellect, the higher its aspirations ;
and the more comprehensive its faculties, the lower does
it descend in darkness, if the torch of religion has never
been lighted within. It is misery to feel the soul capable
of infinite expansion, and allow it a range no wider than
this fading, ever-changing earth; to taste the bliss of
life, mingled with the bitter draught of death; to love
the high and holy, and never look toward the fountain of
holiness—deep, deep, and mingling in its pure tide the
richness of all wisdom and knowledge. Oh, how de-
pressing must be the loneliness of such souls! How
awful the desolation! Too high for earth, and knowing
naught of heaven! Even the good in their natures is
perverted, and adds to the chaos of darkness within.
When they see the strong oppress the weak, vice triumph
over virtue, innocence borne down by care and poverty,
and guilt elevated to a throne, they say this is enough to
know of Him who holds the reins of such a government ;
and, in their folly, deem themselves more merciful than
the Father of mercies, Making this world the theatre of
life, and the years of man its sum, they fix upon this in-
conceivably small point in comparison with the whole ;
and, from such a limited view, dare to tax the Ruler of
the universe with injustice. Unable to comprehend the
policy of the divine government, and misapprehending the
object and tendency of earthly suffering, they lose them-
selves in the mazes of sophistry, and become entangled in
the net their own hands have spread.
192 THE PRIEST’S SOLILOQUY.

Poor Keyling ! he has drank of the poisonous tide of
infidelity, and every thought is contaminated the moment
it springs up into the heart. This gives its colouring to
the earth and sky, to life anddeath. It breaks the chain
that binds the world of nature to its Creator, dissolves
the strongest fascination of the beautiful things around us,
and renders meaningless the lessons traced by the finger
of God upon every thing he has made. It removes the
prop from the bending reed, and the sunlight from the
heart ; it binds down the wing of hope, and turns the
apraised eye earthward ; it offers only “ the worm, the
eanker, and the grief,” and points the fluttering soul to a
grave of darkness and oblivion.
AUNT ALICE:

To people who look on one side of Aunt Alice’s cha-
racter, she appears a saint; sinless as those who have
gone home to heaven, a ministering angel of light. To
people who look on the reverse of the picture, and see
spots of this shining through, all distorted by the un-
happy medium, she is a miserable, canting hypocrite.
Both are wrong; Aunt Alice is neither, though much
nearer saintship. A third class of people, having a whole-
Some contempt for extremes, and intending to be very
generous in their estimate, call Aunt Alice a singular cha-
racter; and moreover affirm, that she loves to be singu-
lar, and pursues her somewhat eccentric course more for
the sake of attracting attention and exciting remark, than
from a love of it. They too are wide of the mark,
That Aunt Alice performs a vast amount of good is not
to be denied; and that she goes about, her left hand
often destroying her right hand’s work, is equally certain.

Aunt Alice is a widow, and all her children being
married, she has nothing to detain her from what she
‘ considers her duties. Is there a sick-bed in all the
neighbourhood ? she is there. Her own hand administers
the cordial, her own bosom supports the sufferer’s head,
her own lips whisper consolation, and breathe balm upon

N
194 AUNT ALICE,

the wounded spirit. ‘Then, Aunt Alice is a ministering
angel; and to see her untiring devotion, her ready self-
sacrifice, and her humble piety, you would wonder that
she was left upon the earth where she had not a sister
spirit. She holds the dying infant in her arms, receives
its last sigh, wraps it in its little shroud, and lays it in the
coffin. Then she turns to the bereaved mother, and tells
her that her cherished bud is only transplanted to be better
watched over and cared for; and Aunt Alice never goes
away until she sees a clear light breaking through the tears
in the mourner’s eye, and knows that the stricken spirit has
learned to love the Hand that but bore its treasure be-
fore it to Paradise. But it is only to the poor, the
wretchedly miserably poor, that Aunt Alice goes thus.
It is only to them that her hand is extended, and her
purse and heart opened. The rich have many friends ;
she knows they do not need her, and she cannot waste
her precious time upon mere civilities. So deeply is this
impressed upon the mind of Aunt Alice, that she too
often neglects the lesser charities of life—the ready smile,
the encouraging word, and the kindly glance, so expres-
sive of sympathetic interest—and thus incurs distrust,
and builds up a high wall for her own influence to pass
over before it can reach the heart of the worldling.
Moreover, she has seen so much of real suffering—that
which tears the heart, shrivels up the muscles, and withers
the spirit within the bosom—that the sorrow which can-
not be traced back to a cause, and an adequate one
(some real, palpable cause, whose length, breadth, and
entire bearing she can measure), meets no sympathy
from her. She feels a contempt for those minor ills,
AUNT ALICE. 195

born of delicacy and nursed in the lap of luxury. She
does not know how deeply the cankering iron may eat
into the spirit, when she cannot see it protruding be-
yond; she does not know that the Angel of Woe has a
seat which he sometimes occupies by every hearth-stone,
and that his visitation is always heaviest when he comes
disguised. So Aunt Alice never pities those who cannot
write down some fearful calamity: never even does she
pity those who can, and are not willing to deserve her pity
by opening to her its most secret fold. Sensitiveness
she calls pride, and pride is one of the faults which she
never forgives. Yet Aunt Alice is very forgiving; her
charity, indeed, ‘ covereth a multitude of sins.” The
most sinful, those who have widest erred—the poor, for-
saken victim of shame and misery and guilt, she ever
takes by the hand, whispering kindly ; “* This is the way,
walk ye in it.” Among those whom crime has made
outcasts from society, she labours unceasingly ; and many
rescued ones can point to her as the parent of their bet-
ter natures. Yet there is no one so severe on foibles as
Aunt Alice. Does her neighbour wear a gayer bonnet
than pleases her taste; is any one so dazzled by the fas-
cinations of society as to err in world-loving ; are men
entangled in the net of pleasure and lured to sin, instead
of being pushed into it by want and woe ; for them
Aunt Alice has no sympathy.

Yet, again, a current saying among the poor is, that
the good lady has no clasp upon her purse ; it is told by
others that she has a hard and griping hand. In truth,
Aunt Alice values money highly ; but she values it only
so far as it gives her the means to benefit her fellow-men.
196 AUNT ALICE.

From every penny appropriated to another purpose she
parts grudgingly. She studies economy for the sake of
the suffering; and, not content with economizing herself,
she endeavours to compel those with whom she has deal-
ings to do so also. Aunt Alice will bandy words a half
hour with a tradesman for the sake of a few shillings ;
and, turning round, she will double those shillings in cha-
rity. It is not that she prefers generosity to justice, but
her view of things is contracted. Her errors are of
judgment, not feeling.

I do not wonder that people call Aunt Alice a hypo-
crite—but I do wish that they could look into the bosom
where rests the meek and quiet spirit which they falsify.
Oh! Aunt Alice has a true and generous heart—a heart
panting to be like His who loved the sinner, while hating
all sin. A generous heart has she! Pity that it should
be curbed, half its fervour checked, and many of its best
pulsations hushed, by the narrow mind which is its guide
and governor |
MY FIRST GRIEF,

AN EXTRACT.

I LAUGHED and crowed above this water, when I was
a baby, and therefore I love it. I played beside it, when
the days were years of summer-time, and the summers
were young eternities of brightness, and therefore I love
it. It was the scene of my first grief too, Shall I tell
you? There is not much to tell, but I have a notion that
there are people above us, up in the air, and behind the
clouds, that consider little girls’ doings about as import-
ant as those of men and women, The birds and the angels
are great levellers.

It was a dry season; the brook was low, and a gay
trout, in a coat of golden brown, dotted over with crim-
son, and a silver pinafore, lay weatherbound on the half-
dry stones, all heated and panting, with about a tea-
spoonful of lukewarm water, turning lazily from its head,
and creeping down its back at too slow a pace to afford
the sufferer hope of emancipation. My sympathies—lit-
tle girls, you must know, are made up of love and sym-
pathy, and such like follies, which afterwards contract
into—n’importe! I was saying, my sympathies were
aroused ; and, quite forgetting that water would take the
gloss from my new red morocco shoes, I picked my way
198 MY FIRST GRIEF,

along, and laying hold of my fine gentleman in limbo,
succeeded in burying him, wet face and all, in the folds
of my white apron! But such an uneasy prisoner! More
than one frightened toss did he get into the grass, and
then I had an infinite deal of trouble to secure him
again. His gratitude was very like that of human’s,
when you do them unasked service.

When I had reached a cool, shaded, deep spot, far
adown where the spotted alders lean like so many self-
enamoured narcissuses, over the ripple-faced mirror, I
dropped my apron, and let go my prize. Ah! he was
grateful then! He must have been! How he dived,
and sprang to the surface, and spread out his little wings
of dark-ribbed gossamer, and frisked about, keeping all
the time a cool, thin sheet of silver between his back and
the sun-sick air! I loved that pretty fish, for I had
been kind to it; and I thought it would love me too,
and stay there, and be a play-fellow for me; so I went
every day and watched for it, and watched until my
little eyes ached; but I never saw it again. That was
my first grief; what is there in years to make a heart
ache heavier? That first will be longer remembered
than the last, I dare say.
THE MIGNIONETTE,

A FABLE,

I xnow there is an angel in some bosoms—an angel
which the Redeemer leaves to guard his own peculiar
jewels—which will touch most delicately the keys of love
and truthfulness, whatever nets the world without may
be weaving to cripple its pure wings. But, in general,
we are imitative creatures, and we copy from our sur-
roundings. We catch the tricks of the leaves, and the
breezes, and the flower-buds, when we make our
homes among them; and when we congregate on hot
pavements, the air we breathe is searing to the spirit,
however you may tell us it affects the spirit’s casket. It
is better to be a ‘* God-make” than a ‘“‘ man-make,” as
the little deaf mute, Jack, would say; and men will re-
fashion God’s doings, even in our own natures, if we do
not prevent them. For this reason, it seems to me not
only peculiarly silly, but wicked, to transplant the early
spring violet from the brook-side to your conservatory.
A gay, fashionable man, with a touch of poetry, and
more of worldliness about him, attempted it a few years
ago; but he spoiled his flower. Poor Minna Gray!
She was a pure, gentle creature; but when she was re-
moved from the influences of home, with so much to
200 THE MIGNIONETTE.

attract, so much to wonder at and bewilder, was it strange
that her young heart should grow stagnant to any but
the thrilling touch of the magic world that accorded so
well with her dreams of fairy-land? No; if the world-
weary man would have the wild violet in its fragrance,
and freshness, and purity, he must go and live beside it; _
it is well worth the sacrifice, and will droop in any other
soil. We have a strange notion in this strange world,
of fashioning pure things to our own hands, instead of
fashioning ourselves to them.

In the days when all the moveless dumb things on the
earth talked and walked about, a Thistle grew down in
the corner of a neglected garden, in the midst of other
Thistles, all proud of their purple blossoms and brave
defences. But there was one thing about the porcupine-
like armour of the Thistle family, which did not quite
please this gallant knight. They were all bristling with
prickles; and they could not draw near each other with
the loving confidence displayed by the little bed of Mig-
nionette close by ; so, in the midst of kindreds and friends,
the Thistle felt alone. Perhaps, if he had cast off his
own armour, and wheedled from the air some of the
swectness it had rifled from his fragrant neighbours, the
others might have imitated him; but, instead of that,
like many a poet of the present day, he stood up in all
his exclusiveness ; and, from dawn to dew-fall, sighed for
companionship. At last he began to throw loving glances
towards the Mignionette ; and one little, fragrant, dewy
blossom saw him, and blushed, hiding her meek head
behind her companions. From that day the knight re-
solved to woo the little trembler, and fashion her beauti-
THE MIGNIONETTE. 201

ful spirit for his own happiness. ‘‘ She shall grow close
beside me,” he said to himself; ‘her roots shall twine
with mine down in the dark earth, and her slender, deli-
cate stem I will support and train upwards, and she will
cling lovingly to me for ever.” So he expended a few
more tender glances, and sent some gallant speeches by
the little wind-messengers; and at last pretty Mignon
stept from the midst of her sisters, and laid her fragrant
head on the bosom of her mettlesome wooer. Fora
little time, whose life so bright as that of Knight Thistle?
But sometimes the sharp thorns in his armour wounded
his gentle bride, and then came tears and chidings ; some-
times, when he bent his head to touch her bright lip,
there seemed a strong scent of the Thistle in her breath,
instead of the fragrance which had made the whole garden
rich; and sometimes, at midnight, when the wind was a
little noisier than usual, and the tall Thistle-heads hissed
a response, he fancied that another hiss arose close beside
him, and he did not love his Mignon more for growing so
like himself, Finally, after a year or two had passed, the
Thistle found, to his dismay, that the roots of the Mignio-
nette were so interwoven with those of her stout neigh-
pours, that they were in no wise distinguishable ; then
thorns grew from her sides, and wounded as his had
done ; she put a purple crown upon her head, and became
a Thistle. It was not very strange, for she had lain
upon his heart, and its throbbings were not good for her ;
she had listened to his whispers, and in them had for-
gotten the pure, sweet converse of her sisters, though
her fainting spirit longed for it; and she had breathed
202 THE MIGNIONETTE.

the air that the Thistles breathed, until her whole nature
was contaminated.

But from that day to this, the whole family of Thistles
(which has since become very numerous, and does not
always wear the purple) declare the modest little Mignio-
nette to be no purer, no gentler, no sweeter or more
loving, than themselves ; and they firmly believe that there
are no such virtues as these in the wide world, and those
who seem most to practise them, are only the most adroit
deceivers.

Ah! pretty Mignionettes, sweet Violets, bright Minna
Grays ; beware of the world—nestle in your seclusion—
guard well your simple, trustful hearts ; your innocence is
no match for the strong continual influence which always
enters by the purest door of your natures to desecrate
your treasures,
MINISTERING ANGELS,

MorTueEr, has the dove that nestled
Lovingly upon thy breast,
Folded up its little pinion,
And in darkness gone to rest ?
Nay; the grave is dark and dreary,
But the lost one is not there ;
Hear’st thou not its gentle whisper,
Floating on the ambient air ?
It is near thee, gentle mother,
Near thee at the evening hour ;
Its soft kiss is in the zephyr,
It looks up from every flower.
And when, Night’s dark shadows fleeing,
Low thou bendest thee in prayer,
And thy heart feels nearest heaven,
Then thy angel babe is there.

Maiden, has thy noble brother,

On whose manly form thine eye
Loved full oft in pride to linger,

On whose heart thou couldst rely,
Though all other hearts deceived thee,

All proved hollow, earth grew drear,
204

MINISTERING ANGELS.

Whose protection, ever o’er thee,
Hid thee from the cold world’s sneer,-~.
Has he left thee here to struggle,
All unaided on thy way ?
Nay ; he still can guide and guard thee,
Still thy faltering steps can stay :
Still, when danger hovers o’er thee,
He than danger is more near ;
When in grief thou ’st none to pity,
He, the sainted, marks each tear.

Lover, is the light extinguished
Of the gem that, in thy heart
Hidden deeply, to thy being
All its sunshine could impart ?
Look above! ’tis burning brighter
Than the very stars in heaven ;
And to light thy dangerous pathway,
All its new-found glory ’s given.
With the sons of earth commingling,
Thou the loved one mayst forget ;
Bright eyes flashing, tresses waving,
May have power to win thee yet:
But e’en then that guardian spirit
Oft will whisper in thine ear,
And in silence, and at midnight,
Thou wilt know she hovers near.

Orphan, thou most sorely stricken
Of the mourners thronging earth,
MINISTERING ANGELS. 205

Clouds half veil thy brightest sunshine,
Sadness mingles with thy mirth.

Yet, although that gentle bosom,
Which has pillowed oft thy head,

Now is cold, thy mother’s spirit —
Cannot rest among the dead.

Still her watchful eye is o’er thee
Through the day, and still at night

Hers the eye that guards thy slumber,
Making thy young dreams so bright.

O! the friends, the friends we ’ve cherish’d,
How we weep to see them die!

All unthinking they ’re the angels
That will guide us to the sky!
THE RAIN A THOUGHT-MAKER.

Wow p you believe it, ‘‘ Bel”—that there is poetry
in a woodpile—genuine, unmitigated poetry, dipped up
from the very heart of Helicon? Would you believe it?
Well, there is; and, what is better still, it is not a moth
born of the sunshine, but a genuine bird of Parnassus,
dashing rain-diamonds from its wings, and weaving rain-
bows, and turning rain-clouds into—whatever you choose
—the friar’s cowl and gown, or the ermine and velvet of
St James, as your taste suggests. But it is a Niobe; or
rather a Venus bathing in an upper sea; for the muse of
the woodpile, you must know, is a rain-divinity. To il-
lustrate. We have had a week—O, such a week! If I
possessed any mechanical skill, it would have made a Noah
of me six days ago. Drizzle, drizzle! patter, patter!
from darkness to darkness ; for the day is one continued
twilight, the damp light coming in and going out at its
usual hours, as though it acted only from a sense of duty
—sick and dizzy enough, meanwhile, to prefer being
alone. The night, too—but nights never hang heavily
on my hands, thanks to the little people from Dreamland.

Did you ever spend a rainy day in the country,
“Bel?” You will say, yes; for, now I have asked, I
recollect one or two when you were with us. But Wal-
ter was here then; so, of course, your sun shone. Once
THE RAIN A THOUGHT-MAKER. 207

imagine those rainy days without a lover, ‘“* Bella;” and
then think of seven of them all in a row, so near alike
that you cannot distinguish one from its twin ; and you
must keep an almanac in your hand to prove to yourselt
that yesterday has not come back again to cheat you into
living a stale day. By the way, what a fresh life we have
of it; for ever using new time, moments just coined from
stray fragments of eternity, soiled by nobody’s breath,
and thrown by as soon as tarnished or embalmed by ours.
Not quite thrown by either. They are following after
us, a line of strange things strangely broidered over, to
buoy us heavenward, like the tail of a kite, or drag us
down, a chain of lead. ‘ Revenons a nos moutons.”

The woodpile. There it stands, with the water drip,
dripping from it—all motionless, and meek as Mooly
‘‘ midway in the marshy pool;” (you admire musical
sounds, “ Bel;” and there is alliteration for you, worthy
of the fair Laura Matilda herself.) Drip! drip! there’s
something chiding in that woodpile—a dumb reverence
for what is, which makes me ashamed of wishing for the
ninety-ninth time, as I was on the point of doing, that
the rain “ would be over and gone.” Resigned to the
decrees of Providence! O, it is a hard thing, ** Bel.”
Think of our hopes, as they are first formed, with a heart-
throb in every tiny bud; then think of them as they be-
gin to expand, blushing, brightening, bursting out from
the envious green, fresh and glorious—our gay, gorgeous
hopes ; think of them in their glad beauty, and watch
the coming of the rain-storm. How they strive to stand,
poor perishable things! How they wave, and quiver,
and wrestle! and then see their bright petals swept
208 THE RAIN A THOUGHT-MAKER,

downward and scattered, gemming the wet ground before
one sun-ray had given them a baptismal kiss, Lost be-
fore named! Poor hopes! Pitiable hopers !

Not poetry, did you say? Well, it is philosophy,
then; and I am by no means sure that there is the dif-
ference of a maple and an elm stick between the two. I
am inclined to believe that the same divinity presides
over both. To be sure, poetry shews the dimpled foot,
mantled only by the hem of a lady’s robe; while philo-
sophy strides off in buskin and hosen; but you may see
them step behind the scenes at any moment, and exchange
attire,

I have gained quite an affection for that woodpile,
since I have had nothing else to look at; and it went to
my heart this morning to have a heavy armful transferred
to my room for the purpose of correcting the dampness
of the atmosphere. I felt as though committing a kind
of sacrilege ; worse still, burning my monitor, because
perhaps its teachings chid me. And then, when the wild
flames were all raving around it, how could I help,
‘ Bel;” unclasping a clasp, and looking into the morrow
of a little trembler, who would fain cling a life-long to
the present ? My life has been one track of roses ; I have
imbibed their freshness, and drunk their perfume ; my
smiles have been heart-born, and every tear has had a
rainbow in it. I have led a happy, happy life, “* Bel”—
thank God! who has granted every blessing to a hoping
mother’s prayers. But a wiser than the hoping has said :
‘‘ Ifa man live many years, and rejoice in them all, yet
let him remember the days of darkness ; for they shall be
many.” Not entire darkness, “ Bel;” for I know of
THE RAIN A THOUGHT-MAKER. 209

stars that will always sparkle, of lamps that will always
burn; but still there are days of trial awaiting me—per-
haps in the distance, perhaps very near, even at the door.
I cannot die till my lip has pressed the bitter. Heaven
help me, then! and not me alone, but all of us,

I wish you could sit by me this morning, and see my
fire burn. There is John Rogers himself, with his picket
fence of little people, to keep him from running away,
just as he stands in the primer; and there is the veri-
table hero, Jack-the-giant-killer, if I am to judge by the
enormous club he carries, three times the size of himself :
and there—there, as I live, is your own Broadway, the
genuine article, the shops all tricked out in finery, and
the passers-by in the same way bedizened—all walking
show-cases. And now the fire-scene changes, and I look
into a magnificent palace,—my foot is aching just to
press that gorgeous carpet, and—there, a stick has rolled
down upon it, and my palace is in the condition of many
another one that I have builded. That big stick of
maple seems to me like a martyr, suffering for opinion’s
sake. Certainly it is the very stick that I saw yesterday
turning its bleached face heavenward with a submissive-
ness which had no sigh in it ; and with its last year’s green
for a text, it preached me a long sermon. It was not a
very agreeable one, however. Shall I tell you a few
things it wrote on my heart ?

I never afflicted myself much at the decay of empires
——never gave half as many tears to the downfall of all
the mighty mourning places of the old world combined,
as I shed over the grave I dug in childhood for a poor

broken-winged robin I had’ striven to win back to life.
O
210 THE RAIN A THOUGHT-MAKER.

My heart is not big enough for that kind of sympathy ;
and there is no use in trying to convince me that there is
a piace in the world of quite as much consequence as
Alderbrook. If I should wake some of these mornings,
and find the houses all turned into stacks of chimneys —
(we have few Grecian pillars, and such like unnecessaries,
so our ruins would not be very romantic), and the direc-
tion of the only nice street we have, such a disputable
thing, that the antiquarians of Crow-hill would wrangle
about it for ever after ; I say, if I should awake and find
changes like these, I should probably weep a few such
tears as have, during the lapse of centuries, bathed the
ruins that claim the world for mourners. But, after all,
it would be nothing in comparison with seeing a new
grave dug over the white stile yonder, among the cy-
presses. ‘The decay of life, the extinguishing of the lamp
lighted by the hand of God,—0O, there is something in
that which I can feel! I do not know what kind of life
there was in that maple-tree last summer—how high,
how glorious, how much like this which is now swelling
in my veins and bubbling at my heart—but I do know
that there was life in it. And life, of whatever kind, is
a mysterious, a fearfully mysterious thing. But it is gone
now ; and the living tree, which gloried in the sunlight,
and wrestled with the winds of heaven—that had veins
and arteries, through which the life-current wandered as
through mine, is degraded to the impassiveness of the
stone—below the stone in its early perishableness, as the
human frame is below that in a more revolting dissolution.
Sometimes I fancy, as the stick lies smouldering in that
crust of gray ashes, that the principle of life has not yet
THE RAIN A THOUGHT-MAKER. 211

departed from it; for the unwilling yielding to the flame,
the occasional brightening up, as though a hoping soul
looked through it, the half-mirthful crackle, and the low,
mournful song, like its own requiem, all seem to speak of
an inner life, which the axe of the woodman failed to
reach, I observe too, as I watch it, fragments crumb-
ling back into ashes ; while above floats off a blue wreath,
waving and curling—winging its way heavenward with
all the gladness of an emancipated spirit. Will you be-
lieve with me, ‘ Bella,” that this is the same spirit which
animated the living leaves of the maple-tree, when they
coquetted with the summer sunlight, and folded the wind
genil in their green arms, and whispered, with their fresh
lips, of things which, I suppose, the birds know more
about than we? Why should it not be? I have no objec-
tion to the Indian’s plan of taking dogs, and horses, and
other loveable things, to heaven; though I am not sure
that I should like to see him chase the ‘‘ spotted Fomen,”
or put a veto on the flourish of bright wings; but I think
all these will be a study for us there. Our natures have
become contracted in this cramped-up breathing-place,
where we are hustled about, and jostled against each
other, till self-protection—sel/, self-everything—is the one
chord vibrating to our every breath. We have arranged
a book of nature, and put ourselves in as a frontispiece
(the picture—other living things, only the border) ; but
the whole may be reversed in heaven.

“* Just as short of reason he may fall,
Who thinks all made for one, as one for all.”



And what egotism to believe our own the only deathless
spirits to pass from this bright earth to a brighter Para-
212 THE RAIN A THOUGHT-MAKER

dise ! Ourselves alone gifted with the true life—all things
else cursed with a mockery, a semblance, like the iris-hued
bubble to the sun.

But, ‘‘ Bell,” I do hope this maple-stick is as insensible
as it seemed on the wood-pile yesterday; for I have no
great fancy for playing the executioner, though it did
teach me an ugly lesson. What that lesson was I have
only hinted at yet ; it is scarce a thing to repeat to one
so bright and joyous as you are. Perhaps you never
think of the dark phantoms that trouble the existence of
other mortals—but O, “ Bell,” death is a thing to dread!
And then it is such an ever-present thing; we are so re-
minded: of it every moment of our lives! There is no
hour so sacred, no place so secure, but we cast a look
over the shoulder at the fearful shape following us. At
dawn and at dew-fall, at noon-tide blaze and in the
star-broidered midnight, it is all the same.

When day is dying in the west,

Each flickering ray of crimson light,
The sky, in gold and purple dressed,

The cloud, with glory all bedight,

And every shade that ushers night,
And each cool breeze that comes to weave
Its dampness with my curls—all leave

A lesson sad.

~ Last night I plucked a half-shut flower,

Which blushed and nodded on its stem ;

A thing to grace a Peri’s bower ;
It seemed to me some priceless gem
Dropped from an angel’s diadem ;

But soon the blossom drooping lay,

And, as it withered, seemed to say :

We're passing all,
THE RAIN A THOUGHT-MAKER. 213

I loved a fair-haired, gentle boy’
(A bud of brightness—ah, too rare!)
I lov’d him, and I saw with joy
Heaven's purity all centred there ;
But he went up that heaven to share ;
And, as his spirit from him stole,
His last look graved upon my soul,
Learn thus to die!

I ’ve seen the star that glowed in heaven,
When other stars seemed half asleep,
As though from its proud station driven,
Go rushing down the azure steep,
Through space unmeasur’d, dark and deep ;
And, as it vanished far in night,
I read by its departing light,
Thus perish all!

I ’ve in its dotage seen the year,
Worn-out and weary, struggling on,
Till falling prostrate on its bier,
Time marked another cycle gone ;
And as I heard the dying moan,
Upon my trembling heart there fell
The awful words, as by a spell,
Death—death to all

They come on every breath of air,
Which sighs its feeble life away ;
They ’re whispered by each blossom fair,
Which folds a lid at close of day ;
There’s nought of earth, or sad or gay,
There’s nought below the star-lit skies,
But leaves one lesson as it flies—
Thou too must die!

And numberless those silvery chords,
Dissevered by the spoiler’s hand,
Bié « THE RAIN A THOUGHT-MAKER,

But each in breaking still affords
A tone to say we all are banned ;
And on each brow by death-damps spanned,
The pall, the slowly-moving hearse,
Is traced the burden of my verse,—
Death—death to man!

Ah! the strong, the mighty may well turn pale, and
quake, and shrivel, and mewl, even as an infant in its
swaddlings, with that skeleton finger stealthily winding
itself among the warm bloodful veins, turning them to
ice as it goes. With that dark sovereign of a darksome
hour looking into his eyes and counting through these
faithful mirrors the pulsations of the heart below; scat-
tering, one by one, the sands from his glass, and stealing,
drop by drop, the life from its fountain, the brave, strong-
souled man may measure courage with the timid maiden,
and never blush to find an equal in heroism. To have
those who have loved, caressed, and watched over us
with sleepless attention, turn loathingly from us and
hustle us into the earth, among the stones and festering
germs of poisonous weeds, with the frozen clods upon our
bosoms, to moulder in darkness and gloom, to be trod
upon and forgotten ; while beautiful beings that we could
love, O so dearly! are flitting above us; and the light
is glancing; and birds, drunk with joyousness, wheeling
and careering in the sunbeam; and all the world going
on merrily, as when our hearts went with it—Oh! what
has man’s courage, man’s strength, man’s stern self-con-
trol, to offer against such an overwhelming certainty !
There is so much in this dear, beautiful world, too, for
THE RAIN A THOUGHT-MAKER. 215

the heart to cling to! What is there in the sad cata-
logue of human suffering like wrenching away

——That holy link which first
Within the soul’s rich mine was moulded;
When life awoke, and love’s pure wing
Another nestling close enfolded ?

We turn to the hearth-stone in the hour of pain, and
nestle back upon a mother’s bosom ; and we say, we can-
not leave it—we cannot die! A father’s proud eye is
on us—ambition blossoms in our hearts beneath it; and
then, how stiflingly steal over us thoughts of the coffin
and the grave! How can we die in the dew of our
morning, with all those glowing visions unrealized ! How
can we pass in age, when the thousand chains which
we have been our life-long forging, are all linked to the
bright beautiful things here, which we can but love!
Father in heaven, teach me trust in Thee! As these
chords, which Thou hast strung, lose tone, and canker
against thy cunning workmanship, gather them into thine
own hand, and attune them anew to accord with the
harps of angels. ‘Teach me trust in Thee; that when
the coffin-lid shuts out the sunshine, and the green-bladed
grass springs between my breast and the feet of the living,
I may still be in the midst of light, and joy, and love—
love measureless as eternity.

I had quite forgotten that I was writing a letter,
“‘ Bel,” and have jotted down the thoughts as they came
tumbling to the point of my pen, with a merciless lack
of consideration for you, who are probably basking in
the mirth-giving brightness of a sunny morning. But
216 THE RAIN A THOUGHT-MAKER.

by this you will discover that a rainy day in the country
is not without its uses. It gives us thinking-time, and
that lengthens our lives ;—none live so fast and have so
few way-marks as the butterflies. ‘Besides, thought is
the father of action—so, to that great sheet of mist, and
the dripping rain, and the beaded grass, and the streets,
many a good deed may owe its parentage. But now my
stick of maple is nearly charred, and my eyes are trying
to hide themselves behind pairs of fringes which are near-
ing each other for an embrace. I will to sleep, ‘ Bel,”
with a looking-glass in the window, to give me intelligence
of the first strip of blue that disengages itself from the
prisoning clouds. Adieu, my bright cousin! All good
attend you, and no more rain visit New York than may
be needed as a thought-maker.
GENIUS.

THERE is a melancholy pleasure in turning over the
records of genius, and familiarizing ourselves with the
secret workings of those minds that have, from time to
time, made memorable the ages in which they lived, and
ennobled the several nations which gave them birth.
But it is not the indulgence of this feeling which makes
such a study peculiarly profitable to us: from these re-
cords we may learn much of the philosophy of the human
mind in its most luxurious developments. Genius seems
to be confined to no soil, no government, no age or na-
tion, and no rank in society. When men lived in wan-
dering tribes, and could boast no literature, the bright
flamé-burned among them, although wild and often deadly
its ray ; and the foot of oppression, which crushes all else,
has failed to extinguish it. Hence it has rashly been
inferred that this peculiar gift, possessed by the favoured
few, may be perfected without any exertion on their part,
and is subject to none of the rules which in all other cases
govern intellect ; but that, uncontrolled and uncontrol-
lable, it must burst forth when and where it will, and be
burned up in the blaze of its own glory, leaving but the
halo of its former brightness upon the historic page.
This inference, however, is alike erroneous and dangerous.
218 GENIUS.

Though genius be an unsought gift, a peculiar emanation
from the divine Mind, it was not originally intended as
a glorious curse, to crush the spirit which it elevates.
Perchance the pent-up stream within the soul must find
an avenue ; but he who bears the gift may choose that
avenue—may direct, control, and divert; he may
scatter the living waters on a thousand objects, or pour
their whole force upon one; he may calm and purify
them, by this means rendering them none the less deep,
or he may allow them to dash and foam until, how-
ever they sparkle, the dark sediments of vice and misery
thus made to mingle may be found in every gem.

Let us turn to the oft-quoted names of Byron and
Burns—names that can scarcely be mentioned by the
admirers of genius without a thrill of pain. To the poor
ploughman on the banks of the Doon was sent the
glorious talisman, and with it he unlocked the portals of
nature, and read truths even in the flower overturned by
his ploughshare, unseen by common eyes. But.mark his
veering course; think of his (comparatively) wasted
energies. He could love the wild flowers in the braes
and the sunlight on the banks of his ‘* bonny Doon ;”
he could, at least at one time, smile at’ his lowly lot ;
and he ever contended against fortune with a strong and
fearless hand. But while the polished society of Edin-
burgh owned his power, and he swayed the hearts of
lads and lasses of his own degree at will, he could not
control himself; and many of those light songs, which
are now on gladsome lips, might, could we enter into
the secrets of the poor bard, be but the sad way-marks
of the aching heart, as it grew each day heavier till it
sank into the grave. Burns, the light-hearted lover of
GENIUS. 219

his ** Highland Mary,” and Burns, the care-worn excise-
man, were very different persons; but neither outward
circumstances, nor the genius that characterized both
alike, was the cause. ‘The world has been blamed in his
case; but the world, after it first noticed, could have
done nothing to save. The poet, had he known his
moral strength and cared to exert it, could have saved
himself, as his superiority to many of the foibles and
prejudices of human nature, and his manly independence
on many occasions, evinced.

Byron, like his own archangel, ruined guiding a fallen
son of clay in his search after mysteries, has delved
among hidden treasures, and spread before us the richest
gems of Helicon; but scarce one of these but is dark in
its glory, and, although burning with all the fire of
heaven-born poesy, sends forth a mingled and dangerous
ray. But had a mother whispered her pious counsels in
his ear in boyhood ; had a friendly finger pointed out a
nobler revenge when that first cutting satire was penned ;
and had a better, a holier sentiment than the mean
passion of revenge urged him on to action and governed
his after aspirations, think you that the archangel of
earth would have stood less glorious? No. Byron’s
spirit had a self-rectifying power, and he could have
used it, but he did not ; and, although he has well won
the laurel, a poison more bitter than death is dropping
from every leaf.

It was not an ungrateful public that spread the death-
couch of Savage in a debtor's prison, or dug the suicidal
grave of ‘ Bristol’s wondrous boy.” They were them-
selves ungrateful ; they guarded not well the gift they
bore, and fell victims to their own misdirected powers.
220 GENIUS.

The common mind, never tempted, may wonder at
the waywardness of genius and despise the weakness of
its possessor ; and the generous one that sees the struggle
and mourns the wreck, may pity and apologize ; and
both are in some degree right. While we admire and
pity, we must wonder at the weakness of the strength
that, subduing all else, fuiled beneath its own weight.
We know that the gifted ones of earth often have
stronger passions, more irresistible wills, and quicker and
more dangerous impulses than other men; and for this
very reason should they cultivate more assiduously the
noble powers by which these passions and impulses are
governed. ach individual possesses them; but they
must be cultivated.

It is our conception of the mysteries of this gift which
leads us to look back with such peculiar interest upon the
infancy of a man of genius, expecting there to discover
at least some flashes of the divine ray which lighted up
his after-life. The dusty memories of nurses and village
oracles are ransacked for anecdotes, which oftentimes
neither the additions suggested by pride and partial affec-
tion, nor the transforming medium of the past, through
which they are viewed, can swell into anything like supe-
riority to the sayings and doings of other children. He
who will watch an intelligent child through one day,
will be astonished at the bright flashes of untaught intel-
lect which, could they be abstracted from the childish
notions in which they are almost entirely buried, would
be thought, by any but him who found them in such
amusing vicinity, the sure precursors of greatness,

True, real genius often shews itself in childhood ; but
that it always does, or that such a development is de-
GENIUS. 221

sirable, may be seriously questioned. The child who
writes verses at six, or gives other indications of a genius
surpassing his years, may be wondered at and admired
as a prodigy; but the parent ought to tremble to ob-
serve the premature fruit bursting through the petals of
the not yet unfolded bud. There is an evidence of
disease in this, which, in one way or another, almost
always proves fatal. ‘This unnatural power wears out
itself or the frame of its possessor ; either the mind or
the body must fail under such a rapid development,

The village pedagogue in his old age may look about
him wonderingly ; for it is not unlikely that the least
promising of all his flock takes the highest stand, while
his bright, ever-ready favourite, that he was sure would
become a great man, does not rise above mediocrity.
There is nothing strange or capricious in this, It is the
sure result of natural causes, and has its counterpart in
all the works of nature—even in the human frame.
Rapid growth produces weakness in the bones and
sinews ; and, in some cases, this growth has been so
rapid as to become an actual disease, and carry its
victim to the grave. Many are the instances of intellec-
tual growth so rapid as to weaken the mind and sink it
even below mediocrity, or, on the other hand, to produce
premature death. For examples of this last result we
need not go to the tombs of the early dead in the old
world, nor is it necessary to visit the banks of Saranac,
where drooped the fairest buds that ever shed the fra-
grance of heaven upon earth. We can find them in our
own midst. Many are the gifted little beings who,
after basking in the sunshine and rejoicing among the
222 GENIUS.

flowers for a few short summers, pass away all unknown
to the world—leaving only the frail memorials of their
early genius to soothe, yet sadden even in the moment
of soothing, the hearts that cherished them.

It would be going too far to censure those who have
the guidance of such minds ; but it would save worlds of
disappointment, did they know that such promises are
deceitful and deserving of but little confidence. And
sometimes, doubtless, the poor victim might be saved
years of pain and disease, and, perchance, be spared to
the world through a long life, were not the powers of
the mind forced by unnatural means to expand too soon
—before either the mind or body had acquired the
strength and hardiness necessary to its own healthy exis-
tence. Many have seen this evil, and endeavoured to
remedy it by checking such unnatural growth ; but this
is perhaps the most fatal error that could be committed.
The mind, when it first becomes conscious of its own
capabilities, puts no limits to them, and will only be
urged onward by each barrier thrown in its way ; but a
judicious hand may direct its course, calm its turbulence,
soothe its sensitiveness, and teach it to be its own sup-
porter, without endangering in the least degree its fresh-
ness and originality. The power of controlling its own
impulses does not render a nature tame ; but as it is
necessary to every person, how much more so to him
who has a strong, high spirit, that cannot be subdued by
others ; that, spurning the control of him who should be
its master, over-masters him, and is left unprotected.

THE END.
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