The Poor prisoner

E20100423_AAAAAK.xml

UF00005005_00001.pdf

T: NELSON: AN

D-SONS

\

‘

k

se eee



Sn ee



pee i rt






The Baldwin Library

University
mB wt
Florida















Page 7.

THE BOATING PARTY.











(Rett





T- NELSON: AND:«SONS
LONDON: EDINBURGH: AND-NEW-Y ORK
"Ripa rrp 5 = i



Vy x












ENOME forth to the fields, for the sun

“op shines bright,

(ke
my

@.5 And fills the glad earth with a golden

light ;

And a balmy breath is borne on the breeze

From the woodbine-bowers and the fresh-mown
leas ;—

Come forth to the fields, and lad and lass

Shall make them a seat on the fragrant grass ;

And lulled by the song of the neighbouring
brook,

Dream through the day o’er our Picture Book!

For glimpses it gives of the country-side,

Of all its beauty and some of its pride ;





vi ha PREFACE.

Of the boat on the stream, and the bird in its
nest,

And the mountain-lake in its time of rest ;

Of many a scene, both old and new,

With words of counsel, so kind, but true,

That none, we think, will be sorry to look,

At the pages bright of our Picture Book !







THE BOATING PARTY.

Pull away, girls, while your oars keep time,
And your voices join in a merry chime ;
Down the stream where the lilies grow,
How gently shall the good boat go! ,

Edward is steady, and he shall steer,

Lest the banks or the shoals we strike too near ; )
While the oars shall be given to Florence and Nell,
Who will row us safely, and row us well.

The sunshine gilds the sparkling tide,
_ Save where the trees fling shadows wide,
And all is as gay as a poet’s rhyme ;
So, pull away, girls, while your oars keep time.





AQGOTHING is much pleasanter than a
si aN boating-party on a summer evening,
: when the breeze blows soft and cool,
and the last rays of the sun seem to
| light up the waters in a glory of gold
and purple. How delightful it is to dip your
hands into the wave, or gather the silver cups





$ THE BOATING PARTY.

and emerald leaves of the water-lilies, and then,
to pause beneath the broad branches of some
noble tree, and listen to the music of the stream
as it ripples by! It is well, however, on such
occasions, not to move carelessly about the boat,
or lean too far over the side, lest a trip of plea-
sure should be turned into one of sorrow by a
painful accident. Boating parties are delightful,
but unless you have skilful and steady rowers,
they are also dangerous ; and | have known an
hour’s reckless enjoyment purchased by years
of grief and repentance. In all your amuse-
ments, beware of excess; and remember that
there is a wide difference between rashness and
true courage. Many boys run into danger, out
of silly vanity. They think their companions
will admire their boldness. But prudence is far
more commendable, and the truly brave are
never heedless.





















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































THE LAKE,

WONDER where the artist saw this
pleasant. lake. Perhaps in far-off



‘regions, such as Italy or Switzerland ;
perhaps in our own country, in the
north of England or the Scottish Highlands.
Steep hills surround it, and shelter it from the
cold winds, just as God’s love defends us from
mnmany a hidden danger. An old castle crowns
the summit, where, a great many years ago,
some proud lord or gallant knight may have
lived. Would you like to build yourself a hut
on that green island, under the leafy trees? J



10 THE: LARE.

daresay you think it would be very delightful
to sit on the shore, and watch the fisherman
casting his net, or drawing it up with its burden
of shining and tumbling fish. But scenes that
look very pleasant in summer change their
character in winter, and when the waters of the
lake roll to and fro, and the snow covers the
hills and the little isle, you would not like your
hut, I fear. So you see, you must not Judge by
appearances. But you are quite right to admire
the lake now, while it looks so beautiful, and to
make the most of every good and pretty amis
which is placed within your reach.

The sunbeams on the waters smile,

The green trees cluster o'er the isle,

The gentle breeze with music fills

The bosom of the lofty hills.

His daily task the fisher plies,

And scans the net with watchful eyes.

So bright the scene, so very fair—
1 almost wish that I was there!





























THE STAGE-COACH.

Wi @\HE Stage-Coach is a thing of the past; you

wie will hardly ever see one now, but your
parents will remember when travellers
to Edinburgh, or Exeter, or Liverpool,
or any other great city, could only go by the
stage-coach. And very pleasant it was to be
mounted on the outside, where you would obtain
a fine view of the country you passed through,
while the noble horses rattled gaily up hill and
down hill; and when you swept through a
village, all the boys and girls—ay, and men
and women, too—ran out to gaze at you as if
they had never before seen a stage-coach,
though they saw it every day; and the guard



12 THE STAGE-COACH.

blew his horn, and the coachman smacked his
whip, and everybody seemed pleased and jolly !
Very pleasant in summer, mind you; but not
in winter, when the road would be blocked up
by the snow, and the wind blew so keen and
cold as almost to freeze an outside passenger.
We travel now by railway, and if not quite so
agreeable in summer, it is both safer and
quicker. Time, you know, is money; and our
merchants now-a-days could never do half their
business if we went back to the old stage-
coach. There were accidents very often in those
days; for, perhaps, a careless boy would run
across the road just as the coach drew near,
and before the coachman could pull up, the
horses would knock him down, and the wheels
go over his poor little limbs, and he would be
taken up all faint and bleeding! You should
remember never to cross a street just as a Car-
riage or cart comes up; for the driver may not
be able to stop his horse, and then you may
be punished for your imprudence with a broken
leg, or even worse.

To the words of the wise it is prudent to cling,
For folly will always its punishment bring.












Fis: -

WS

it

. aS
RSS

>

SS




i

Se i Mi
Sai

‘Yy 5 ih
i
)

Rises in the morning early ;
She a linnet’s nest has found,
And blithely seated on the ground,
With some bread and milk she tries
To keep alive her feather’d prize.

In her hat she keeps them steady,
While their little bills are ready
To receive their welcome meal—

How happy Effie now must feel!

And having fed each little guest,

She puts them in their mossy nest,
Where soon the parent-birds will come,
And find their darlings safe at home!



LITTLE EFFTIE.,

5 te linnets. Their parents had flown away
; in search of food. So she sat down and
| gave them some of her own bread and
milk; after which she carefully replaced them
in their nest. Had she cruelly carried them
away, I have no doubt they would have died,
for it is very difficult to rear such young birds.
The linnet has a pleasant song, and on a mild
spring morning it is delightful to hear its joyous



y y
pe ih Ue
2}

music thrilling through the air. It is very fond
of society, and several pairs will build their
nests close together, and rear their offspring in
the same neighbourhood without any contention
or ill-temper. ‘They feed and move about in
company, and when their hunger is satisfied,
will all gather.on the top of some sunny tree,
chattering with each other in a low and gentle
note. And they will do this in the winter, on
every bright, clear day, and then fly off to the
nearest pool, and dabble in the water, and
dress their glossy brown plumage, until they feel
refreshed and clean. I do not think that any
one would wish to injure the pretty linnets.





















































































































































































































































BIRD-CATCHING.

af 'l’ is winter, you see, and the fields are
qe covered with snow. Old Gaffer Gray

and his son Dick have gone out bird-




) 5: catching, for they are very poor, and
unless they can get some birds to sell, neither
they, nor the good wife and the little ones at
home, will have any food to-day. Many people
are very fond of keeping song-birds, and so long
as they feed them regularly, and provide them
with a large clean cage, I don’t know that we
can very well blame them. The birds, however,

ought to be caught when young, for old birds,



16 BIRD-CA TCHING.

if caged, will pine away and die. For my part,
] must confess that I would rather see the
feathered songsters flying about on happy wing
than imprisoned in ever so fine a cage; and I
think their song is never so sweet in confine-
ment as when they pour out their full hearts
from the tree’s leafy branch, or‘while hovering
to and fro in the sunshine, or perched. in the
blossomy hawthorn hedge.
How sweet the song ! it seems a strain
Swept from celestial strings,
Or like a breath of music, fanned
By some glad angel’s wings!
In golden drops of melody
The lark’s high chant descends,
While Philomel all sounds of joy
In richest burden blends!

Gaffer Gray’s mode of bird-catching is very
simple. He props up a sieve with a stick, to
which he has fastened a long piece of string.
Under the sieve he scatters a quantity of seed,
and when the birds collect to eat it, he pulls the
string; the stick gives way; and down falls the
sieve over such of the birds as have not taken
flight. I fancy he will not catch many birds
this way; they soon grow afraid of the sieve.

(155)













































































































S{HESE vast mountains are miles and miles
te away! We can scarcely sce their lofty .
“summits for the clouds which hang about
them. Their peaks are covered with
snow; snow that rests upon them in summer and
winter, spring and autumn, year after year;
pure, white, and solid; an eternal crown of
majesty and power. Some mountains are four
or five miles high. Just think of that! You
know how long and difficult a journey it is up
a gentle hill, How you draw your breath

quicker and quicker as you ascend it, and haw
(188) ) 2



18 THE FAR-OFF MOUN PAINS.

flushed and tired you feel when the top of the
hill is gained. Think, then, how wearisome and
laborious it must be to climb a mountain four
miles high, and covered with snow and ice for
the last two miles. You have never seen any
such: mountains, you say. No; but you have
been told of them, and you believe in their
existence. Even so, you ‘have never seen
Heaven, but you read of its glories in your
Bible, and you know that it is the home of God
and the angels, and of just men made perfect.
But before we can attain to its everlasting joys,
we have to accomplish a journey more difficult
than that of ascending a mountain five miles
high. _ The stout-hearted climber, however, gets
to the top at last; and we, if we trust in Christ ;
if we continue hopeful, faithful, and in earnest ;
shall surely be repaid for the toil of our travel
by the blisses of Heaven.
Upward, upward, let us climb!
Long the way, and very dreary ;
Oft we ask for longer time, :
Oft our hearts grow faint and weary ;

Oft our souls in sorrow sigh,
“Help us, Saviour, lest we die!”’







aH NEATH the blooming hedge she sat,
xe A lonely child and wan,
" When Alfred, by her sorrow moved,

His simple speech began :

‘“Why do you cry, my little girl ?
And why are you so thin?
Alack, it seems as if your bones

Would pierce your very skin!”

‘“T ery,” she said; and still the tears
Rolled down her wasted cheek,

And scarcely could she answer him,
So faint was she and weak,—



20

THE BEGGAR CHILD.

‘T cry because my mother’s ill,
And laid upon her bed;
And now since yester morning |
Have never broken bread.”

“O Alfred!” Flory quick exclaimed,
‘She'll starve, I fear, and die!
How sad it is that none for her

A little food will buy:

“ But stay !—Here is our lunch !—I’m sure
That we could spare our store,
We breakfasted quite heartily
Till I could eat no more!”

‘They gave the suff’ring child their roll,
Who scarce her thanks could say,
And then, with happy hearts, to school

Resumed their pleasant way.

Remember, every kindly deed
In God’s high record lives ;
He loves the charitable hand,
He blesses him who gives!

A mite, at least, you all may spare,
From out your plenteous store,
And gracious Heaven will surely help

The child who helps the poor.





deprive the mother bird of her eggs
or her young and callow brood. But
to my mind it is a very cruel amuse-
ment, and one which profits nobody. You
cannot hatch the eggs or bring up the tender





22 BIRDS’-NESTING.

fledglings. You can admire the beautiful colours
of the eggs without carrying them away; or
examine the wonderful manner in which many |
of the nests are made. You see that Ada in
the picture thinks so, and turns away from the
thoughtless boy who has just robbed the parent
birds of their little ones and their tiny dwelling.
Perhaps they are far away now, gathering food
for the support of their young; what will be
their feelings, think you, when they fly back on
rapid wing to their favourite tree, and find
themselves homeless and childless ? They have
built their nest with great pains, and have flown
to and fro in search of twigs and leaves and
moss to make it comfortable, and now—it 1s
gone! I can fancy that when they discover
their loss, their song of mirth and happiness
will be changed into a sad and melancholy
MUSIC.

Oh, do not rob the gentle birds,
Which charm us with their dulcet strain!
All the sweet pleasure that they give,
Would you repay with causeless pain ?



















































THE HOMES OF ENGLAND.



‘OOK through this grove of venerable
trees, and you will see a picturesque
country - house, the home of some
English squire, or, perhaps, of some
well-to-do farmer. Broad plains spread
all around it—meadows for cattle and golden
cornfields; and I daresay a silver-sounding brook
tinkles in the hollow; and near it will run a
leafy lane; and close to the house, I fancy, will
bloom a large and lovely garden. There are



24 THE HOMES OF ENGLAND.

many such beautiful homes in England; hand-
some houses situated in fair country-sides, with
comfort in the interior and prosperity round
about. That such homes exist, we owe, under
the mercy of Ged, to our just government and
reasonable laws, which provide, as far as may
be, for the happiness of the industrious and
honest. But all men are not so favoured, it is
true. Some live in cottages, and some in huts;
for in this world we cannot all be equals in
rank and fortune. But we may be equals in
goodness and virtue; and all may have happy
English homes, if they will obey the will of
God and keep his commandments. Better than
gilded ceilings or gorgeous hangings is a con-
tented mind. The home may be fair to look
at, with fields and gardens and groves to adorn
the landscape; but if evil passions prevail
within it, I would rather dwell in a lonely
mountain cave. ,

Home, sweet home, be it ever so homely !
If Love gilds its walls with heavenly light,
If Content, Hope, and Peace ever smile on its threshold,
And Patience be there with her face angel-bright ;
That home will be blest with a blessing divine,—
Be it ever so homely, that home shall be mine! -





GATHERING PLANTS.




LOVE the wild-flowers better than even
the beautiful blossoms of the garden.
=~” No strange rare blooms brought from

er tropic lands, or far-off countries in
Asia and Africa, are so dear to me as the
modest blue-bell, the forget-me-not, the wild
rose, or the violet. And then, the wee, modest,
crimson-tipped daisy! Is it not more lovely
in its simple dress than the most gorgeous
plants which flourish in conservatories? Above
all, I value the primrose. How beautiful the

















26 GA THERING PLANTS.

hedge-rows look in spring when the green grass
is thickly studded with its golden flowers! I
often go out into the fields and lanes, and, like
Master Charley here, dig up a nice plant. or
_two, root and all, and carefully carrying it home,
put it into a snug corner of my garden, or
into a little wooden box, where it grows and
brightens for many days, I hope you are fond
of flowers. Some one has called them the stars
of earth, and I am sure they are as beautiful as
the stars. How good is God to give us so many
sources of delight. Look at their delicate leaves!
Look at their various colours and forms! You
cannot grow weary of watching them. Yet no
two flowers are alike. Is it not wonderful that
God should have created so many kinds? | Had
there been only a few, we should goon have
tired of them, but there are thousands of vari-
eties, so that one might spend one’s whole life
in studying all about them.

They bloom in the field and the grassy lane,

By the river-bank, o’er the mar shy. plain,

In the deep dark dell, on the mossy bank,

By the marge of the pool, ’mid the rushes dank;
Hills, and dales, and meadows, and bowers,
Everywhere bloom the gentle flowers!























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































ee ae et /

THE OLD TOWER.



Many a sun and moon have shone |
On this old tower, so still and lone, |
With strange and awful shadows cast
About it of the solemn Past:
Its gallant knights are low i’the dust,
Their swords and helmets stained with rust ;
But still it rears its turrets high,

The landmark of an age gone by.




T is evening, and the shades of night

FER, are gathering about the old tower,

a
Ls Ng

ey investing it with a sterner air than it

0 if possesses in the glad sunny noon. And
yet to my eyes it always looks like a thing
gloomy and sorrowful, with its crumbling walls





28 THE OLD TOWER.

thickly bowered in ivy, and its empty windows,
and its ruined courts, where the owl makes his
nest, and the wind seems always whistling and
shrieking. ‘This was a grand castle in the old
days, and look at it now! It is thus that Time
makes sport-of the work of human hands. Lords
and ladies, knights and squires, once lived
beneath its roof, but then the walls were hung
with beautiful tapestry, and the floors strewn
with fragrant rushes, and huge fires blazed on
the hearth, and thick curtains fell before the
windows. I am sure, however, it could never
have been so comfortable as our modern houses,
and we are learning now-a-days that comfort
and happiness are much better than gloomy
grandeur. Strong castles, with stout walls and
heavy gates, were necessary in the ancient time,
when kings and barons were always at war; but
happily for us, men have learned to set a higher
value on law, and order, and peace, and we do
not need to shut ourselves up, like the owls, in
castle or tower. | |







CLIMBING THE CLIFF.

-@ HIS is rather a dangerous freak of
fe Master Harry’s. If he lost his footing,
KX; or the bush to which he clings gave
way, he would be dashed to atoms. It
is allowable to run such risks when some useful
object is to be attained; but it is more than
foolish—it is sinful——to do so for idle bravado or
mere amusement. Do you know how they





30 CLIMBING THE: CLIFF.

gather the sea-birds’ eggs. im. some parts of
England and Scotland? The birds. lay their
eggs in the chinks and on the ledges of stu-
pendous cliffs, at whose base the ocean beats
with a perpetual roar. It is impossible to
climb up these cliffs, they are almost as
straight-as a wall. So three men go out, with
a couple of long, stout ropes, and. an iron
bar. The bar is-fixed firmly in the ground
near the edge of the cliff, and a rope coiled
round it, to the end of which a strong pole or
spar of wood is fastened. One man sits astride
upon this, holding by the rope, and the’ other
two men let him down the face of the cliff, very
slowly and surely, keeping the rope off the rock
lest the strands should be worn through. Thus
he goes from ledge to ledge, and chink to
chink, picking up the eggs, and putting them
into two bags which he wears slung across his
shoulders. When .they are full, he jerks the
rope, and his friends at the top draw him up.
Such are the perilous ways by which some men
are content to earn a living. Happy they whose
lives have fallen in pleasanter places, and con-
tented should they be with their peaceful lot.































































































































THE GREEN LANE.

e IRAVELLERS say that the great charm
et of our own dear land is its green lanes.
Ai Their banks, on either hand, are clothed
with such an abundance of wild-flowers,
hedge-plants, moss, and delicate grasses; the
trees so screen them from the sun, and keep off
the bitter winds; every now and then, as the
lane winds up a hill, you get such charming
glimpses of the country round about; and you
come upon such fine old houses, or trim little
cottages, or such quiet villages with their ancient
churches lifting. above the roofs their tall and





32 THE GREEN LANE.

shining spires, that no one can fail to admire
our green lanes, if he be of a happy and cheerful
disposition, A bad temper finds evil in every-
thing. But each country has some charm
which endears it to its inhabitants. The Italians
are proud of their vineyards and blue skies, the
Swiss of their snowy mountains, the Greeks
of their olive groves, the Americans of their
prairies and vast lakes, and we, in our turn,
may be proud of our green lanes.

Oh, the green green lane, I love it well,

As it climbs the hill or winds through the dell,

Or crosses the stream, or skirts the leas.

Or takes its way through the ancient trees!

I love its hedges, with hawthorn gay,

Where the thrush sings loud, and the linnets play;

I love the spring, so bright and clear,

Which the thirsty cattle loiter near ;

And I would roam again and again
In the happy shades of the green, green lane!





os +r





\ =

a
FESS :
ge o ee oe

me
Za

Die
d LES ELw( fe
"cre OZ op oe a es a

Ue =
THE PET LAMB.

yf ERE are Edwin and Jesse with their
pet lamb, a pretty gentle creature,




2.
Zag Ie

t



, with fleece as white as snow, and meek
* tender eyes that beam with an ex- f
pression of perfect trust. They have
always treated their lamb with gentleness, and i
are now rewarded by the creature’s affection. H
It follows them about like a dog, and when |
either of them appears in the meadow where it
is kept, runs up to them quite merrily, licks
their hands, and frisks about them in a jovial

mood. I am sure there is a great happiness
3



34 THE PET LAMB.

in making those about you happy, and it is as
easy to please your parents or your masters as
to secure the attachment of a pet lamb.

The lamb will soon be too old for a pet,
however ; and when grown up into a fine sheep,
will be handed over to the butcher, and be-
come mutton. That seems very hard, perhaps ;
but remember you will have done your best
to make it happy in its early days. Child-
hood will pass away with you in your turn, and
you will have to face the duties of life,—to be
brave, good, honest men, or loving, pious, and
diligent women. I hope you will then re-
member how much was done by your parents
to make your early days cheerful and pleasant,
and that your gratitude will render you anxious
to cheer their old age by your affectionate
devotion. rian

So be as happy as you can, Edwin and Jesse,
with your toys, and your books, and your pet
lamb. Be obedient, be loving, be charitable,
be humane.

Make, then, the best of each quick-passing hour,
And seek in all the will of God to see ;

As is the seed, so is the full-blown flower, |
And as your youth, so shall your manhood be!





























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































THE RIVER.

‘AG MONG the mountains rises the noble
SY river; pouring out at first from a tiny



spring, buried deep in ferns and water-
plants, and rippling in a narrow pebbly



channel that any child can step across.
But as it goes on its way to the sea, it collects.
the waters from other springs, and from torreats
that come tumbling and splashing down the
rocks, to swell its volume, and the rains of
heaven increase it, and so it continues to crow
broader and deeper as it rushes through the
mountain-glen, and rolls across the open lea.



36 , THE RIVER:

oy

Broader and deeper, broader and deeper, until
the stream that a child could have leapt across,
is able to float great merchant-vessels and ships
of war, and from bank to bank it measures two,
five, or perhaps a dozen miles. And then at
last it disappears in the mighty sea, and men
know its course no more. Poets and wise men.
have loved to compare human life to a river,
for our life, as you know, begins with the small
beginnings of childhood, passes into youth and
manhood with a nobler flow, and is swallowed
up, after many chances and changes, in the
great sea of Kternity. How calm and gentle
the river looks in its mountain valley! Just
so peaceful is your life, dear children, while
sheltered by the love and care of your parents.
But the river will continue to flow from its
source to the ocean long after you and I have
ceased to be. Only, remember, that for us
there is another and a happier world, where
God’s love will fold over us its everlasting
wings.












wk age of a thousand years and more, and
there are oaks still flourishing in Great
“Britain which were hearty and hale
when William the Conqueror landed on our
shores with his Norman knights. But few trees



38 THE OLD OAK-TREE.

are allowed to live to so venerable an age.
The wood is very valuable for ship-building,
and as soon as the oak has grown stout enough
the woodmen come with axe and saw and fell
it to the ground. There it lies, a grand and
noble trunk, to form part of a large ship, per-
haps, which shall bear the British flag to far-
away seas and islands. It will shelter us no
more under its leafy boughs. The summer sun
will smile on it never again, nor will its great
arms in winter again be adorned with the
sparkling snow. The Bible often compares
human life to the life of the brave old oak.
“The lofty looks of man shall be humbled,’’
says the prophet, “and he shall be brought
low, like the oaks of Bashan.”

Oh, the oak! the oak! old England’s tree,
Is very fair, indeed, to see,

With its branches spreading far and wide,
And its massive trunk—a thing of pride!
A thousand winters cannot tame

Its heart of iron, its sturdy frame;

It reigns, the king of the greenwood free,
The royal oak, old England’s tree!



























































































































































































































DRIVING THE CATTLE TO DRINK.




Cen -
SF Tis a hot summer day.. The sun seems

we to burn and scorch all it looks upon.

Bra The flowers hang their heads; the
grass is dry and withered ; the leaves
of the trees droop as if they had lost their sap ;
the roads are covered with dust, but there is no
wind to blow it about; the children look too
tired to play, and loiter about on the bridge,
or sit under the hedge and weave garlands of
daisies; the old cottagers place their stools at
the cottage-doors to enjoy the warm sunshine ;
and the ducks dabble about in any little pool
they can find. The cattle feel the heat very



7



40. | DRIVING THE CATTLE TO DRINK.

keenly. You may see them standing in the
open fields, brushing off the flies with their
tails, and lolling out their parched tongues as
if they were overcome with thirst. How joyful
they seem when the farmer’s boy turns them
out of the meadow, and leads them down to the
river-side! Then they drink such long draughts,
you would almost fancy they never intended to
stop! And they plunge into the cool waters,
quite up to their necks, so as to cool their hot
skins and get rid of the troublesome flies. It
is not much trouble for the farmer’s lad to take
them to the river, and yet what a happiness it
18 to the poor cattle! |
We can often render one another great

services at little cost to ourselves. And we
should always make haste to do so, for we know
not how much good we may effect by what is
really a very little kindness.

Help one another,

Help father and mother,

Help sister and brother ;

A kindly hand lend

To stranger and friend ;

For ever and ever under the sun, .
At a very small cost great good may be done!





THE ROBIN.

‘Art thou the bird whom man loves best,

The pious bird with the scarlet breast,
Our little English robin ;

The bird that comes about our doors
When autumn winds are sobbing ;

The bird who by some name or other

All men who know thee call thee brother,
The darling of children and men? ”’

4. whose books when you are old enough,
Tes it will do you good to read. He sings
> about the robin red-breast, the little red-
coated, hopping, gentle, lovable fellow, that
comes to your window daily for his crumbs of





42 THE ROBIN.

bread, if you are kind and tender with him.
He will be your guest all the year round, if
you will take care to provide for him. Some
years ago, a pair of robins took up their abode in
an old parish church, and actually. built their
nest upon the church Bible, where it lay on the
reading-desk. The good vicar would not allow
them to be disturbed, and got another Bible.
In another church, the clerk when looking for
the lessons of the day (it was the 13th of April),
saw something under his Bible, which rested
upon a raised ledge. It was a robin’s nest, and
held two eggs! The bird was not frightened
or moved, and laid four more, which were
hatched on the 4th of May.

Men love the robin because it is so trustful,
and relies upon their humanity and good feeling.
And it is wise for us to put faith in one another,
and not to be meanly suspicious or envious.
Trust your fellows, and they will trust you.







‘“‘Never to blend our pleasure or our pride
With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels ;”

that 1s, never to find a silly amusement in
teasing any poor helpless creature, as I have
seen naughty children tease their dogs and
kittens, or run after the innocent lambs, and
throw stones at the patient cows. They cannot
tell you how it hurts and annoys them, and you
should show to them as much gentleness and



44 ROVER THE GOOD DOG.

careful kindness as you would to your baby-
brother. For they are God’s creatures, and all
God’s creatures are worthy of being loved.
Edwin here does not tease his dog Rover.

You may be sure of that, or Rover would not
be so ready to play with him, and jump into the
water when Edwin flings his stick among the
water-lilies. Most dogs can swim, and some-
times their power of swimming is very useful to
their owners. I have read of a little girl who
fell off a plank into a deep stream. No one
was near, and it seemed certain she would be
drowned. But a dog she had treated kindly
saw the accident, sprang into the river, caught
hold of her dress, and dragged her ashore, He
then stood by her and barked loudly, until her
parents came to her help.

Oh, Rover, bold Rover, so gallant and fe

There never was dog more faithful than you!

By night you keep watch, like a sentinel steady,

And by day you are always so active and ready

To run by the carriage or walk at my side;

There never was known one more faithful or tried !

Oh, Rover, bold Rover, so gallant and true,
I wish boys and girls were as generous as you!



















the hawthorn hedge, they sit and
amuse themselves by singing songs, and making
nosegays or garlands of wild-flowers. The
cattle, overcome by the heat, lie down on the
grass, or stand knee-deep in the pools; and the
sheep seem almost too lazy to nibble. How

ee



46 SUMMER-TIME IN THE FIELDS.

the birds sing as they rise higher and higher
above the earth, until they seem like specks
against the blue sky! How pleasant the wind
is, as it just stirs the leaves of the trees, and
makes a dimple on the face of the sunlit stream!
What a sweet smell comes from the hedges and
the wild-flowers and the dry grass!—Oh, what
a delightful season summer is! But then we
should not value it so much, if we had no
autumn with its yellow leaves, no winter with
its robe of glittering snow. It is the change,
the contrast, that makes it doubly delightful.
Each season brings with it its own peculiar
blessings, and we must have seed-time as well
as harvest, rain as well as sunshine, to fill up
the measure of God’s goodness to man.

The broad, bright sun is rising high

In the summer’s blue and cloudless sky,

And the warm light spreads o’er the blooming leas,

And a soft air murmurs through the trees,

And the brook goes sparkling and dancing along

With the joyous flow of a merry song:

Come forth, come forth, to the leafy bowers,

And gladden yourselves in the light of flowers ;

Children, come forth with hearts of cheer,
Yor earth is gay, and summer is here!

















































“Yferryman’s cottage, placed, you see,
‘close to the river's bank, and under
the shade of some grand old trees.
Does it not seem just the sort of
country home that you would like? How
pleasant it would be to dabble in the cool
bright water and play among the rushes, or
row about in a boat so large and comfortable!
I daresay you think the ferryman’s life must be
one long stretch of happiness. Well, his life,
like yours or mine, has its pleasures and its



pains. It is summer now, and to row across

PHAT a pretty spot! This is the

Se



48 THE FERRY BOAT.

the rolling river is not a very difficult task, but
in winter when the waves are high and the
wind blows, or when the rain falls heavily, or
when great blocks of ice drift down the stream,
the ferryman thinks his lot a hard one. But
he takes the rough with the smooth, and
bravely does his duty all the year, pulling from
one bank to the other whenever any passenger
wants to cross. He is a very useful man in his
way. ‘There is no bridge over the great river,
Tt would cost too much to build one, and so, if.
you want to reach the pretty village, whose
church-spire you can see through the trees, you
must employ the ferryman. He and his boat
are always ready, and whether it rains, blows,
or shines, are at their post. I hope you will
resemble the ferryman in this, and do your duty
honestly under every circumstance. It may not
always be very agreeable, but duty must be
done.
"Still at your post courageous stand,
A workman tried and steady ;

With honest heart and willing hand
To do your duty ready!











(pOW different is this rude-looking bridge
| , of wood to the noble structures of
lates stone and iron which are thrown over
Ss the rivers of great cities! But it does
very well where it is placed, for few
people or carriages ever cross it, and there
would be no traffic to pay for a handsome stone
bridge in this lonely mountain-glen. In some
parts of America where the valleys are very
deep, a rope is stretched across from one side
to the other, and firmly fastened to poles in the

ground, or to huge trees. An@ then, if you
4



50 THE WOODEN BRIDGE.

want to go over, you have to put yourself in a
basket which is slung upon the rope, and pulled
across by means of another rope. How would
you like such a dangerous journey? In fact
there are all kinds of bridges—wooden, brick,
iron, stone; for men must cross rivers and
streams and valleys, and they cannot do so
without the help of some kind of bridge. Do
you know the longest bridge in the world? It
is in North America, and across an immense
river named the St. Lawrence. It measures —
two miles in length, all but sixty yards, is
sixty feet high, and cost one million seven
hundred thousand pounds. A railway is car-
ried over this bridge, which is named after our
good queen, the Victoria.

It is thus that human skill and industry con-
quer the greatest difficulties, and build bridges
over great rivers or deep valleys. When men
go to build a bridge they keep on working and
working, in spite of obstacles, until the bridge
is built. That is what you must do. |

If at first you don’t succeed,
Try, try, try again!
»






YW yi a last, and away he goes, caleaian

: of along the dusty road as if neither he
See? nor the pony could ever grow tired.

He enjoys it all the more because he

knows he has fairly won his enjoyment. His
papa, who is a rich man and well able to afford
it, promised him a pony if he kept dua—that
is, at the head—of his Latin class for a whole
year. Walter is an industrious boy, and he
set to work with a will. He never missed a
lesson, and he kept his place throughout the
year. So that he has gained his pony, and
what is more, the approval of -his own heart.



52 LAE GRAY PONY.

If he had had no pony, I think he would have
been almost as happy; and you will be so if you
always do your duty, mind what your parents
and teachers say, and endeavour to improve in
your studies. We cannot all have ponies or
prizes, and a time will come when we shall be
too old to care for such things, but we can all
strive to satisfy our consciences. That is a
happiness of which nothing can deprive us, and
which the oldest and the youngest can equally
enjoy. Say to yourself, “I will do my duty; I
will be truthful, honest, patient, and obedient ;
and my reward shall be the knowledge that I
have acted rightly. I want no other gray pony
than that!” God will smile upon your efforts,
and his blessing will surely attend you.

O Jesus, help my tender youth

To keep the path of right and truth ;

Oh, guide me in thine holy way,
My Hope, my Comfort, and my Stay!













































































































































































































































































































THE STATELY MANSION.

‘The stately homes of England!
ft How beautiful they stand,

Amidst their tall ancestral trees,
O’er all the pleasant land!

The deer across the greensward bound,
Through shade and sunny gleam;

And the.swan glides past them with the sound
Of some rejoicing stream,”

ADR, < ?
So¢° HAVE borrowed these lines from a very

tH
ANS

aad am)
NI







agreeable poetess, named Mrs. Hemans.
You see they just describe the beautiful
mansion which is shown in the picture.
There are the tall old trees and the rejoicing
stream. Indeed, it is a fair sight to look upon.



54 THE STATELY MANSION.

There are hundreds of such mansions in our
rich and peaceful country, and the wealthy gen-
tlemen who own them do great good to their
poorer fellow-countrymen by employing them ©
on their farms or in their gardens or about their
estates. You must not allow yourself, however,
to fret or repine if your own home is not so
splendid. _Remember that if others are richer
than you, many, many thousands are poorer,
and that every lot has not only its sorrows but
‘its joys. You can be as happy in a cottage
as in a palace, and in the sight of God all
‘men who do their duty are equal. When I
hear some thoughtless people wishing that
they had been born to rank or wealth, I remind
them that the things of this world soon pass
away, and that if they only will be good and
true and honest, it will matter little hereafter
_ whether. they lived under a gilded ceiling or a
roof of straw. There is hope and comfort for
the meanest in one beautiful saying of Christ’s :
“In my Father's house are many mansions.” And
these are open for the peasant as well as the
prince, to all classes and races of the great
family of mankind. —

















BA
TSE: SNS
NORE Qis7

S eae
q TAN ie

oon /
2 yf

me ~,

) 4 oe Te
; iy) <> ~ ANN ore
we SY eee?

pX
KS



there they were allowed to collect the stray
stalks for their own benefit. They would take



56 GLEANING.

home all they gathered, and the miller would
grind it for them into nice flour, and so many a
poor family obtained food for several days.
The custom has nearly died out, I think, for
farmers now take care that their fields shall be
better reaped, and there is nothing left for the
gleaners. |
Do you remember the story of a gleaner in-
the Bible? If not, ask your mamma to read to
you about pretty, gentle, loving Ruth. ‘She
went, and came, and gleaned in the field after
the reapers,” and there she was seen by the
master, a man of wealth named Boaz, who
could not but admire her innocence, her in-
dustry, and, above all, her affection for her
mother-in-law. And so it came to pass that Ruth
became the wife of Boaz, and their child: was
named Obed, who was the grandfather of David. |
From David descended Joseph, the husband of
Mary, the mother of our Saviour. Remember,
then, that the husband of the human mother. of
Jesus came from the stock of Ruth the gleaner.
It will give you an interest in the scene if at
any time you should see the peasant girls
-gleaning after the reapers in the cornfield.





CARRYING THE TIMBER.

Down with the trees, the mighty trees,
Which long have withstood the winter breeze,
And the summer sun, and the autumn rain,
But shall never lift up their heads again!




"ES: down with the trees, for houses
and ships must be built, and furniture
must be made, and timber, as you know,
is of the greatest value toman. Very
grand and stately the beech and the
oak and the chestnut seem, as they spread
abroad their leafy branches, and rear their
crowns of foliage far above our heads; but the
woodman comes with axe and saw, and the
tallest of them are soon brought low upon the



§3 CARRYING THE TIMBER.

earth. Then their boughs and stems are cut
away, and the solid trunks are piled upon stout
trucks and wains, which require several horses
or oxen to draw them down to the saw-pits.
At the saw-pits they are divided into planks of
various thickness, or into posts and beams,
according to the purposes for which they are
intended. ‘There are different kinds of wood.
The commonest is called deal, which is got
from several trees, Then for shipbuilding men
use oak and pine.and fir; for beautiful tables
and chairs, they bring mahogany and rosewood
from abroad; walnut-wood is also used for
making furniture; our floors and stairs, window-
frames and common doors, are fashioned of deal.
But there are few trees which cannot be made
useful in one way or another. If their timber
is worthless, men often employ their bark or
leaves, from which they get dyes, gums, bal-
sams, medicines, cordage; and others bear
valuable fruits, such as the bread-fruit and
cocoa-nut trees, which are almost the only
support of thousands of men, women, and
children. All that God has created is good,
from the grandest oak to the meanest weed.







ZF :
—e ZAZA
PEL.
A

ZL
LZ









‘
‘I




_ winds blow,
~And summer blossoms most sweetly
; glow, —
| Where the grass is green, and all is
fain, 7
Our pretty pet! we will bury you there.

Come, Edgar, quick, and take your spade,
And see that the grave be trimly made ;
Where the grass is green, and all is fair,—
Our pretty pet! we will bury you there.





60 THE DEAD BIRD.

Long time you sung in the window-seat,
A daily song of burden sweet;
Where the grass is green, and all is fair,—

a

Our pretty pet! we will bury you there.

When we offered you seed or a crumb of bread,
How blithely you chirped, and bent your head;
Where the grass is green, and all is fair,—
Our pretty pet! we will bury you there.

As soon as the sunshine reddened the sky,
You raised your warble, soft though high ;
Where the grass is green, and all is fair, —
Our pretty pet! we will bury you there.

When twilight came with shadows deep,
On your perch you calmly went to sleep ;
Where the grass is green, and all is fair,—
Our pretty pet! we will bury you there.

To all the world shall your name be known,
For over your grave we'll raise a stone,
And write it thereon, in letters fair,—

Ah, GoupEN Dick! we will bury you there.







THE FOX’S DEN.

“Sir Reynard, Sir Reynard, come out of your den; .
Ah, you are afraid of the hounds and the men,

But at night like a thief you cunningly prowl,

And have just enough courage to pounce on a fowl!

; EP leaves, and grasses of every kind, deep
» down in the shelter of a wood, Rey-
nard, the sly old fox, has made his
lair. Unless the hunters and their dogs
should find him out, he will keep himself snug
enough during the day time; but as soon as
night and darkness are on the earth, he will
issue forth, and woe to any rabbit or young hare
that crosses his path! He will steal quietly





62 THE FOX’S DEN.

into Farmer Hodge’s farm-yard, and in spite of
barking dogs and crowing cocks he generally
contirves to seize some poor little chicken, or,
perhaps, a fat young duckling, and then, loaded
with plunder, he glides back to his secret den.
He is very sly and crafty this Master Reynard,
as you may see in his shrewd sidelong glances
and sharp watchful face. He has a broad
head, a sharp nose, erect ears, a long hairy
body, short legs, and a fine long bushy tail.
In size he may be compared to a large dog, but
while the dog is’ generous, and faithful, and
honest, he is a mean, deceitful thief! So all
men love the dog, and all men hate the fox.
Men generally love what is good, even if they
themselves are wicked, and if you wish to secure
the esteem of your friends and neighbours, you
must lead a peaceful and virtuous life. Would
you not rather be loved and cherished like the
dog, than hated and scorned like the fox? But
even if the world did not praise us for domg
our duty, we ought to continue doing it, because
we know it will please Him who for our sakes
became man, and who laid down his life upon
the cross that we, through him, might be saved.

» ©
t















THE BRIDGE.
BEAUTIFUL landscape is this: a

brook running merrily along, now in
the shade of the stately trees, and
now across the open sunny meadows.





YZ
7

I love to pause on its quaint old
wooden bridge, and watch the waters rippling
by. Here they eddy round a mossy root, there
they dimple in a shallow pool. Here they
tumble and toss over a ridge of stones; there
they lie quiet, calm, and still under the broad
shadow of the water-lilies. The cattle come
down to drink of the pure and limpid stream,
which, you see, like everything else that God



64 THE BRIDGE.

has made, is for a good and useful purpose.
You will often hear life compared to a brook
or a river, because it glides by with the same
swiftness, sometimes in sunshine and sometimes
in shadow. Well: this brook may teach you to
make your life of some account to other people.
It is not altogether useless, and you should not
be altogether useless. Young as you are, be
sure that it is in your power to make some
one happier; your parents, perhaps, by your
obedience, or your schoolfellows by your kind-
ness and good temper.

Flow on, sweet brook, nor cease to flow

While leaves are green and flowers are sweet,
And as through mead and vale you go,
~ . Your Maker’s praise in song repeat :

For earth below, and heaven above,
All speak of God the Father’s love.









ag

are a

pecan sree



&
4

MOP Fea eRe

oN Per







NEW SERIES OF SIXPENNY BOOKS,

EACH ILLUSTRATED BY NUMEROUS WOODCUTS.

Post 8vo, 64 pp., Fancy Boards.

1. A PICTURE BOOK OF SPORTS AND PLAYS,—FOR WINTER NIGHTS
AND SUMMER DAYS.

2. MY PRETTY COUNTRY PICTURE BOOK,—OF LANE AND LAKE AND
HILL AND BROOK.

. PEEPS OF HOME AND HOMELY JOYS, —OF YOUTH AND AGE, OF

GIRLS AND BOYS. ..°*

4 WALKS WITH MAMMA O’ER HILLS AND DALES, — wittt SIMPLE
RHYMES AND PLEASING TALES.







— ae



NEW PICTURE PRIMERS.

THE ROYAL ROAD TO SPELLING AND READING; Av Illustrated Spelling
Book, in which all the Peculiarities of English Spelling and Pronunciation are
Explained on the “‘Step by Step” principle. With 257 Engravings. Small 4to,
in Cloth, with Medallion on side. Price. 38: 605°

The “‘Step by Step” principle has been carrf€d out in this book, so that it may
be adopted as a first book for infants, as a manual for senior classes, and as a
compendious book of reference for teachers, and those who desire to become
thoroughly acquainted with the peculiarities of English spelling and pronunciation.

MY PRETTY PICTURE A. B. C. WITH RHYMES TO PLEASE MY
FRIENDS AND ME. With Engravings in colours. Small 4to, Ornamental
Boards. Pricels. —

THE EAR AND THE EYE; or, A NEW WAY TO TRY. With’ Engravings
printed in Colours. "small 4to, in Pictorial Boards. Price 1s.
° This primer is beautifully illustrated. “It is all in rhyme, in which upwards of five
hundred different words are used, but not one of more than three letters.

WOBDS TO SPELL AND READ AS WELL. With Engravings Beton in
Colours. Small 4to, in Pictorial Boards. Price 1s.
The words in this book are all monosyllables. It has nearly a Housind different
words, so arranged that the spelling columns form réacting lessons, and the phrases
and sent2nces forr. perfect rhymes.

THE WAY TO LEARN BY SOUND AND SIGHT, HOW TO SPELL AND
READ AND WRITE. With Hee printed in Colours. Small 4to, in
Pictorial Boards. Price 1s.

These lessons are a! in -monosyllables and in rhyme. They are designed as Exer-
cises ia Spc'ling, Reading, and Dictation.

Upwards of twelve hundred words in commen use are introduced. Words sounded
alike but differently spelt, are given in early every lesson, Words spelt and pro-
nounced alike, but differing in signification, are frequently intro ees and their
meanings are exemplified.



0

NEW PLCTURE BOOK.



OUR VEGETABLE FOOD; Things that a Child Ought to Know. With En-

gravings in Colours. Small 4to, in Pictorial Boards. Price 1s.





+. NELSON AND SONS, LONDON, EDINBURGH, AND NEW YORK.

ene ee









aint Mtl, +3



“ " ‘ c
Sn a a eel ee Repl te 2


xml version 1.0
xml-stylesheet type textxsl href daitss_disseminate_report_xhtml.xsl
REPORT xsi:schemaLocation 'http:www.fcla.edudlsmddaitss http:www.fcla.edudlsmddaitssdaitss2Report.xsd' xmlns:xsi 'http:www.w3.org2001XMLSchema-instance' xmlns 'http:www.fcla.edudlsmddaitss'
DISSEMINATION IEID 'E20100423_AAAAAK' PACKAGE 'UF00005005_00001' INGEST_TIME '2010-04-22T20:59:00-04:00'
AGREEMENT_INFO ACCOUNT 'UF' PROJECT 'UFDC'
DISSEMINATION_REQUEST NAME 'disseminate request placed' TIME '2013-12-09T18:13:52-05:00' NOTE 'request id: 300480; Dissemination from Lois and also Judy Russel see RT# 21871' AGENT 'Stephen'
finished' '2013-12-10T08:25:58-05:00' '' 'SYSTEM'
FILES
FILE SIZE '207' DFID 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEOE' ORIGIN 'DEPOSITOR' PATH 'sip-filescover2.txt'
MESSAGE_DIGEST ALGORITHM 'MD5' 06d85b233464e5f56a687b74aed11405
'SHA-1' a3753577d8d0e1719d7f75a78d3543b1c61992d3
EVENT '2012-06-14T13:02:49-04:00' OUTCOME 'success'
PROCEDURE describe
'34353' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEOF' 'sip-files00018.QC.jpg'
dbd5328abc0a24bae75ead94f0c89e2b
8ff057ec6808e4f7b6eb72c174480009228c9407
'2012-06-14T13:01:29-04:00'
describe
'1407093' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEOG' 'sip-files00062.jp2'
7c2b8708b19018db4f463395e7ff2f05
090bb270447a5c8bfb80fd4ba841f684de8d929b
'2012-06-14T13:02:59-04:00'
describe
'29138' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEOH' 'sip-files00034.pro'
f9f20f84c7858e56123ecb26deabd6a2
d9879de8329a419bb6b3cf952606c70128cd7101
'2012-06-14T13:04:45-04:00'
describe
'10691484' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEOI' 'sip-files00042.tif'
a7cf0e80871e61fd1731600a45d207df
ece8a9a635d9e9fd66fc933c675f6acd86c4b701
'2012-06-14T13:05:48-04:00'
describe
'10819540' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEOJ' 'sip-files00039.tif'
b0ea43afcd78c040cdbd8f2e51a55dc9
4c772e695c6da661a5883db539d60804ac779035
'2012-06-14T13:03:55-04:00'
describe
'187672' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEOK' 'sip-filesspine.jp2'
8855db491f975bb52d2253dbb7080725
adc1dec108a57376575e8fbc2e0ee73dba93a91b
'2012-06-14T13:04:10-04:00'
describe
'946' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEOL' 'sip-files00008.txt'
3b4d0c4a28e4871fb08c646f87859b6e
0a82cfc3b439020f12a594632e7add7a5d73ab60
'2012-06-14T13:02:00-04:00'
describe
'108072' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEOM' 'sip-files00060.jpg'
493d2de06567b96a7c8a9ec3cd5ca8ac
ad3057719b7fb7e7640be9b950ac465e3f4debc2
'2012-06-14T13:01:43-04:00'
describe
'582' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEON' 'sip-files00025.txt'
d0e6a8a71d9d4192ba256dfa09dd149a
2d814fa80cc0d9352a59b8b6a10a5bc7c323d517
'2012-06-14T13:01:39-04:00'
describe
'36057' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEOO' 'sip-files00019.QC.jpg'
5e5b5c902542f22e10a781c9540314c0
c0e87bdeb62990e02708aebe7656b5f675c58f9a
'2012-06-14T13:03:22-04:00'
describe
'34472596' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEOP' 'sip-filescover1.tif'
702d9321f9e2c9659ee3c1e808ac7add
728cc210cab9df408f2a3ddab593c13281767005
'2012-06-14T13:02:47-04:00'
describe
'120951' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEOQ' 'sip-files00028.jpg'
94df27fcda30159a08d9f89bf4e91128
3a88f645b228e74e86b0b574c1da7ce8c498e9d8
'2012-06-14T13:01:59-04:00'
describe
'29603' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEOR' 'sip-files00012.pro'
6401f728ab9759aab929a7c952c79e78
a7378fef306dab9f3fe031c0acb80d6ba3717d8a
'2012-06-14T13:01:49-04:00'
describe
'102713' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEOS' 'sip-files00005.jpg'
2503113f5d6ee3ae683c3eaafa0194dd
d256733bf96d9153567046a5d8d777bfddc38918
'2012-06-14T13:02:50-04:00'
describe
'27316' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEOT' 'sip-files00040.pro'
8cbd2694fe9db3b7aa4938871c00513e
2b604302c5e6177d261f23fb2673150701b070b7
'2012-06-14T13:05:57-04:00'
describe
'1325688' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEOU' 'sip-files00023.jp2'
3cd2d1d54bdac2159c184f7fa9013d27
18bee234a742ba987f1fb1dd39cfe49c0dec7b4a
'2012-06-14T13:02:34-04:00'
describe
'1296583' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEOV' 'sip-files00038.jp2'
a051df4f03c2bbd71abe21314c4691c1
6c57d930407ca21ccb24aec64d7dace90c02ef7f
'2012-06-14T13:06:09-04:00'
describe
'116938' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEOW' 'sip-files00008.jpg'
b8f2a704db9a84d7c4ca51dcd0d7a81e
92e9e42ead53f91912bd62f29825fb18dd8632b9
'2012-06-14T13:04:27-04:00'
describe
'54616' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEOX' 'sip-filescover1.QC.jpg'
279d4f27c7d1cb2b6d120800a47da5cb
98640ef40da09d0a48bb24e76e7ef9c155374168
'2012-06-14T13:03:27-04:00'
describe
'1312924' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEOY' 'sip-files00014.jp2'
495c3ecf33c3917090cb7cb5090d678d
c63f096cbb145a4a0fa2cf5e11bc64e5e8d4eb55
'2012-06-14T13:07:58-04:00'
describe
'9141' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEOZ' 'sip-files00008thm.jpg'
559aef964175d1809ffe9a7f48e4687d
53134716da6b98bf0d8d4ce994600bf085c46639
'2012-06-14T13:05:55-04:00'
describe
'9336' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPA' 'sip-files00018thm.jpg'
6f15cf4eb32d28964867204b8f3b7eb4
e880ad3aa4196b0c44e7ad4b9825ba720ee67351
'2012-06-14T13:01:38-04:00'
describe
'1409660' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPB' 'sip-files00045.jp2'
bdf76ca8aee1506d52123329e2632cd3
43cffc6517021c2e51c3cb4483ecfc9406e964b4
'2012-06-14T13:04:28-04:00'
describe
'30098' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPC' 'sip-files00058.pro'
dd42776ebb2b346fb2ac9e2ef562af57
2f62566610bf90cfb08248321454ef65499be917
'2012-06-14T13:04:03-04:00'
describe
'21654' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPD' 'sip-filescover3.jpg'
7caa843f151621ac87d575d95f2d1657
4c5ecdf0b182efeca9a89448d8dff2e8991985ad
'2012-06-14T13:07:34-04:00'
describe
'125567' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPE' 'sip-files00034.jpg'
19989243e76bbccb7dee808cd067b3fc
0dadccb2efc63f70b1afb21186548680c98041bd
'2012-06-14T13:02:19-04:00'
describe
'159190' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPF' 'sip-files00002.jpg'
843342fb213da3506c83daaf1d18f329
0e1bb7c4d94900c00d636eacaa347251477720f3
'2012-06-14T13:05:47-04:00'
describe
'1425125' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPG' 'sip-filescover4.jp2'
936484d0bd10021e1b442de127ef0bec
6481aca21b144c2da650926e4fd3f9dfd08645cf
'2012-06-14T13:02:39-04:00'
describe
'1338904' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPH' 'sip-files00013.jp2'
cd5a3170fef56dbedc870884484f3f12
e52fea9c7933e5c9a9aa0d8f2505c0832b8ef003
'2012-06-14T13:04:48-04:00'
describe
'134365' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPI' 'sip-files00027.jpg'
14c592e62aaf8fae283677e695966448
8b6e4311ebd8579ae1df7831ed09364f9df665e1
'2012-06-14T13:04:53-04:00'
describe
'10315552' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPJ' 'sip-files00064.tif'
9145e2a7a0407a025c945f7ab2274d2a
cb7ba5a5f249aae5aa28c52473de3beb41a9edf7
'2012-06-14T13:03:04-04:00'
describe
'238' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPK' 'sip-filescover1.txt'
470a1eedf17df1fd07fc6bfd5768a6cf
0f66b5b709ee29d781d5cb196d675af15b9366d9
'2012-06-14T13:05:56-04:00'
describe
WARNING CODE 'Daitss::Anomaly' Invalid character
'37936' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPL' 'sip-files00011.QC.jpg'
f8d40a2e3d40688c7358b94eae48728b
b23831957721d86dcbbb90b11f3578fb25ab6f7f
'2012-06-14T13:04:05-04:00'
describe
'39644' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPM' 'sip-files00034.QC.jpg'
bb414e1e6a27659d99e836e545603c4f
a70ba1caad017fdc21e6f3e3a66054c13097e3e4
describe
'26751' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPN' 'sip-files00028.pro'
7aadd71ce24c185f61f3475479464d89
5dee10a31f59b8b2020a713e52b9c58a3c2dc229
'2012-06-14T13:01:45-04:00'
describe
'10522184' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPO' 'sip-files00026.tif'
d96e1079ea6cbb6abec66add0cb3b6f3
ba5049aa2e193d873899f8c6255e041922cb71db
'2012-06-14T13:03:29-04:00'
describe
'1209' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPP' 'sip-files00018.txt'
5f61a943e5794690c2cfb0ef5e59f44f
897bc37b327699e2c6497e7e1499f51e81a80407
'2012-06-14T13:04:15-04:00'
describe
'10794512' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPQ' 'sip-files00005.tif'
ace3f4f18ae7c7612f05f342f6d939e6
31ff99fd461aa7fa6571df76b25dce95b9ede3a8
'2012-06-14T13:02:07-04:00'
describe
'131764' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPR' 'sip-files00062.jpg'
0e64209a1b535fbab15765ee7fb29582
0a6357d5f227310b2a9f0ca78af30e7120a7ced0
'2012-06-14T13:03:17-04:00'
describe
'10163900' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPS' 'sip-files00020.tif'
593772ff3309161ba16d56b315f1f907
7453897391798979ade0458d4740acded94818fe
'2012-06-14T13:06:29-04:00'
describe
'14420' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPT' 'sip-files00009.pro'
08093c01f0486645470326dcb85983ee
4c409498aa59ad1b3e1ea36d63a0d493946bb62e
'2012-06-14T13:06:33-04:00'
describe
'1334079' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPU' 'sip-files00042.jp2'
e661105cc39d00591fc99492953e7a0b
9868c8c6d20103388324f071c503e9e8480ef803
'2012-06-14T13:07:38-04:00'
describe
'1354300' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPV' 'sip-files00051.jp2'
8e04d46d34fe34fd89f80945a415063d
3145a805aa6ef45161be4cee68385860af451491
'2012-06-14T13:01:35-04:00'
describe
'8808' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPW' 'sip-files00038thm.jpg'
ec92afc3a16d34314348ca2a84684270
f4fbe198c105db9da8b7492592e57930ab21450c
'2012-06-14T13:04:18-04:00'
describe
'705' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPX' 'sip-files00051.txt'
bd59426759536c2512bc04f1a0ee9875
15b7031a08ad22b814d045de87bb5744cd0852ff
'2012-06-14T13:03:46-04:00'
describe
'10086976' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPY' 'sip-files00028.tif'
4e3c0e5214024d5229057ba8d9c90a03
414884455708416924370a3844a5356f8c3af86b
'2012-06-14T13:02:51-04:00'
describe
'1287495' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEPZ' 'sip-files00064.jp2'
92b2ae51db794e4b72093bccf6656d12
31e49d5c746e7a33e12ed1e84cce26366785d9ab
'2012-06-14T13:02:42-04:00'
describe
'134701' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEQA' 'sip-files00030.jpg'
ceb2158a2ed47771af1f765cc10a2ec0
52ff49f6ff10d3df9b63f6aadf3168b3daf6389d
'2012-06-14T13:01:48-04:00'
describe
'1184' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEQB' 'sip-files00040.txt'
3b10bc01795d44801e4eee6a003f9537
13c6a0fb920a6b6f721c4e596c9e41f86744c5dd
'2012-06-14T13:03:57-04:00'
describe
'10917756' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEQC' 'sip-files00056.tif'
531da9c7feecd2ac3f573150a05e81ff
98ca7b9842cb0f68ff1ee7d13c091137557bad92
'2012-06-14T13:06:59-04:00'
describe
'10429924' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEQD' 'sip-files00002.tif'
a016e45329d85de75c6c1547686d7b81
46c51af36022b2a69f7c98462d8a862a6905638f
'2012-06-14T13:01:26-04:00'
describe
'108177' 'info:fdaE20100423_AAAAAKfileF20100423_AAAEQE' 'sip-filesUF00005005_00001.xml'
466615bd7dc769ef3d4e8f42f5801df4
be7100a27265e9c5f4558a89e45d4072800bce6e
'2012-06-14T13:04:00-04:00'
describe
TargetNamespace.1: Expecting namespace 'http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/digital/metadata/sobekcm/', but the target namespace of the schema document is 'http://digital.uflib.ufl.edu/metadata/sobekcm/'.
'2013-12-10T08:19:25-05:00' 'mixed'
xml resolution
http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/digital/metadata/sobekcm/sobekcm.xsd
BROKEN_LINK http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/digital/metadata/sobekcm/sobekcm.xsd
The element type "div" must be terminated by the matching end-tag "