Citation
Young folks at home

Material Information

Title:
Young folks at home stories for young readers
Creator:
Pansy, 1841-1930 ( Editor )
D. Lothrop & Company ( Publisher )
Place of Publication:
Boston
Publisher:
D. Lothrop Company
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
1 v. (unpaged) : ill. (some col.) ; 26 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature ( lcsh )
Brothers and sisters -- Juvenile literature ( lcsh )
Children's stories ( lcsh )
Children's poetry ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1892 ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1892 ( lcsh )
Publishers' advertisements -- 1892 ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1892
Genre:
Children's stories
Children's poetry
Publishers' advertisements ( rbgenr )
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
Frontispiece printed in colors.
General Note:
Publisher's advertisements on endpapers.
Statement of Responsibility:
edited by Mrs. G.R. Alden ("Pansy").

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
026645903 ( ALEPH )
ALG4691 ( NOTIS )
212375369 ( OCLC )

Downloads

This item has the following downloads:

E20080515_AAAAFN.xml

UF00081957_00001.pdf

UF00081957_00001.txt

00006.txt

00026.txt

00047.txt

00080.txt

00058.txt

00105.txt

00060.txt

00054.txt

00092.txt

00051.txt

00055.txt

00061.txt

00153.txt

00162.txt

00137.txt

00067.txt

00142.txt

00037.txt

00033.txt

00100.txt

00096.txt

00145.txt

00108.txt

00062.txt

00002.txt

00112.txt

00146.txt

00076.txt

00057.txt

00148.txt

00158.txt

00087.txt

00066.txt

00073.txt

00075.txt

00007.txt

00127.txt

00027.txt

00063.txt

00114.txt

00091.txt

00071.txt

00120.txt

00000.txt

00059.txt

00136.txt

00150.txt

00042.txt

UF00081957_00001_pdf.txt

00012.txt

00156.txt

00125.txt

00023.txt

00167.txt

00039.txt

00122.txt

00163.txt

00133.txt

00072.txt

00081.txt

00020.txt

00038.txt

00151.txt

00101.txt

00011.txt

E20080515_AAAAFN_xml.txt

00160.txt

00034.txt

00010.txt

00083.txt

00157.txt

00143.txt

00024.txt

00110.txt

00093.txt

00117.txt

00152.txt

00022.txt

00119.txt

00111.txt

00154.txt

00019.txt

00126.txt

00135.txt

00170.txt

00070.txt

00032.txt

00138.txt

00107.txt

00128.txt

00140.txt

00064.txt

00008.txt

00035.txt

00095.txt

00090.txt

00016.txt

00116.txt

00118.txt

00005.txt

00103.txt

00017.txt

00139.txt

00097.txt

00050.txt

00121.txt

00085.txt

00018.txt

00098.txt

00113.txt

00052.txt

00144.txt

00084.txt

00134.txt

00004.txt

00088.txt

00029.txt

00074.txt

00132.txt

00077.txt

00041.txt

00053.txt

00164.txt

00104.txt

00115.txt

00078.txt

00149.txt

00141.txt

00131.txt

00021.txt

00028.txt

00031.txt

00009.txt

00046.txt

00147.txt

00044.txt

00013.txt

00001.txt

00109.txt

00099.txt

00102.txt

00040.txt

00129.txt

00094.txt

00159.txt

00014.txt

00086.txt

00130.txt

00049.txt

00079.txt

00048.txt

00165.txt

00123.txt

00065.txt

00106.txt

00015.txt

00056.txt

00045.txt

00161.txt

00171.txt

00030.txt

00089.txt

00082.txt

00155.txt

00036.txt

00124.txt

00043.txt

00025.txt

00003.txt


Full Text


ea!

re
3
o
a
a
EI
x
o
<
to
o
&























SOUND O



THE PANSY BOOKS

There aré more than a hundred “ Pansy Books,’ mostly by Pansy herself, a few by one or two helpers, a very
Jew by others altogether. They constitute the very highest class of Sunday-school and family literature.

There are substantial reasons for the great popularity of the “ Pansy Books,” and foremost among these is their truth
to nature and to life. The genuineness of the types of character which they portray is indeed remarkable; their heroes
bring us face to face with every phase of home life, and present graphic and inspiring pictures of the actual struggles
through which victorious souls must go.

‘Her stories move alternately to laughter and tears.” . . . Brimful of the sweetness of evangelical religion.”

. ... “Influence cannot fail to be beneficent.” . . . “Girl life and character portrayed with rare powers” ee
‘“‘ Impressive and fascinating.” 7 “ 4 wondrous freshness and vitality appearing on every page.” . . . “The
cause of temperance is sustained with rare power, tact and interest.” . . . “The value and happiness of trusting in
God happily exemplified.” . . . “Nothing for the young surpasses this collection.” . . . “Yoo much cannot be
said of the insight given into the trué way of studying and using the word of God.”

These are a few quotations from words of praise everywhere spoken.

ESTER RIED SERIES. The following cannot well be classified. They are adapted to
various ages in the family circle; always in demand

in orde: her ntioned. ‘ :
To be read vder as here mentioned. at the libraries.

r. Ester Ried. The first book of a series of religious stories

unequalled in popularity. 1.50. Miss Dee Dunmore Bryant. 1.50.
Julia Ried. _ 1.50. Aunt Hannah and Martha and John. 1.50.
The King’s Daughter. 1.50. A Modern Exodus. 1.50.
. Wise and Otherwise. 1.50. Interrupted. 1.50.
The Randolphs. 1.50. From Different Standpoints. 1.50.
Ester Ried Yet Speaking. 1.50. Modern Prophets. 1.50.
An Endless Chain. 1.50. A New Graft on the Family Tree. 1.50.
THE CHAUTAUQUA GIRLS SERIES. oe SOU aoe Ee ones:
Intensely vivid pictures of the soul-growth of four girls dis- One Commonplace Day. 1.50. : ;
tinctly individual, but all spiritually akin. The Pocket Measure, 1.50.
1. Four Girls at Chautauqua. 1.50. The Hall in the Grove. 1.50.
z. Chautauqua Girls at Home. 1.50. Eighty-Seven. 1.50.
3. Ruth Erskine’s Crosses. 1. 50. Divers Women. | 1.50.
4. Judge Burnham’s Daughters. 1.50. Lae Rebecces Life. 1.50.
No books for boys have wielded a wider influence for good Bey Sevenfold Trouble. I-50.
than the following. Christie’s Christmas. 1.50.
Tip Lewis and His Lamp. 1.50. Chrissy’s Endeavor. 1.50.
Those Boys. 1.50. Echoing and Re-echoing. 1.50.
Little Fishers and their Nets. 1.50. Cunning Workmen, 1.25.
The Man of the House. 1.50. : Dr. Deane’s Way. 1.25.
Sidney Martin’s Christmas. 1.50. Mrs. Deane’s Way. 1.25.
Three People. 1.50. Grandes Davinee sore2h
; 2 : 5 oe fiss Priscilla Hunter. 1.25.
Choice Mustrated Libraries for Children. What She Said. 1.25.
Pansy’s Half Hour Library. 8 vols., quarto, boards, 30 At Home and Abroad. 1.00,
cents each. Bobby’s Wolf and Other Stories. 1.00.
Pansy’s Boys and Girls Library. 12 vols., quarto, boards, Five Friends. ‘1.00.
25 cents each. : In the Woods and Out. 1.00.
The Pansy Intermediate Library. to vols., 4.50 net. Mrs. Harry Harper’s Awakening. — 1.00.
The Pansy Primary Library.. No.1. 30 vols., 7.50 net. New Year’s Tangles. 1.00.
The Pansy Primary Library. No. 2. 20 vols., 5.00 net. Next Things. 1.00.
The Pansy Primary Library. No. 3. 24 vols., 6.00 net. Pansy’s Scrap Book for Teachers. _ 1.00.
; Some Young Heroines. 1.00. .
; Ltlustrated quartos, edited by Pansy. Voung Pale Worth Knowing. 1.00,
Pansy’s Picture Book. Cloth, 2.00; boards, 1.50. Bernie’s White Chicken. .75.
-Pansy’s Story Book. Cloth, 1.75; boards, 1.25. Couldn’t be Bought. .75. ;
Pansy’s Sunday Book. Colored frontispiece. Boards, 1.25. Stories from the Life of Jesus. .75.
PINE Tea Om OU CHae: Mae Burton Abroad. .75. Two Boys. .75-
ocia’s Journal. .75.
Selected from Pansy’s writings by Grace Livingston. Getting Ahead. .75. Helen Lester. .75.
16mo, cloth, .75; morocco, 2.00. fi Jessie Wells. .75. Monteagle. .75.
“Mrs. Alden’s writings are so pure, earnest, and helpful Six Little Girls. .75. That Boy Bob. .75.—
that a daily absorption of her pithiest thoughts must prove Pansies. .75. We Twelve Girls. .50.
an enriching process.” — WV. Y. Witness. Her Mother’s Bible. 50.

“ Pansy is one of our most delightful story-tellers. Each page imparts, along with entertainment, moral and spiritual
profit.” — Cumberland Presbyterian, Nashville, Tenn. e

“ Quick of thought and sight, impatient of sham, tenderly loyal to real goodness, Mrs. Alden ‘finds her way into all —
young hearts and many old ones.’’? — Advance, Chicago. Z :

D. LOTHROP COMPANY, Publishers, Bosto~ 7

University} |
| RmB vik |
oe Florida





ifs



sada /



Sa









tet























The waysu. asing baby are numherless; but the -

best of them all is the old one—mother-talk. |

‘What shall she talk about? The pictures and stories
of Babyland. Look at these pictures: for instance.
They have got to be explained, of course; but that is
what they are for, to give the mother something te
talk about.

But, remember, baby hasn’t got used to the pace of
this quick world. Give him time. He couldn’t find

out for himself what a story there is in one of thess ~

simple pictures. There is the mother cat in her rock:

ing-chair with her steaming cup of tea and the kittens

playing blind-fold. How happy they are?
Send five cents to D. Lothz


for a copy of Babyland.





do LN Spay,
Swanney ]

the

WAY

wach





YOUNG FOLKS AT HOME

STORIES LOR YOUNG READERS

EDITED BY

MRS. G. R. ALDEN (“PANSY”)

<=



FULLY ILLUSTRATED

BOSTON
D LOTHROP COMPANY

WASHINGTON STREET OPPOSITE BROMFIELD



CopyricHr, 1892,
BY

D. LorHrop ComMPANyY.

pe



MYRTLE’S

“APRIL FOOL.”





MYRTLE’S “APRIL FOOL.”





Bf was a very handsome “ grown-up”
ye bonnet, and I suppose Myrtle had no
(Se idea how queer. she looked init. The
7 fact is, I believe she thought herself ir-
resistible when she had perched it nicely” on
the back of her “ banged” head, and with her

dress gracefully lifted in one chubby hand, and




very sad. I’m afraid I have none to spare ; the
truth is, we have a large family, and my little
girl especially is so fond of pot pie that T have
to save it for her.”

“Well,” said Myrtle, putting on her most
winning smile, “if you cannot spare any pot
pie perhaps I could borrow me a few straw-
berries; I’m sure I saw a boy bring some to
your house ; I’m very fond of strawberries, and

































































































































































































































THE LONG-HAIRED GIRL.

a bouquet of spring flowers in the other, came
to call on mamma. ;

“Tm Mrs. Delexity,” she said, with a pretty
bow, as mamma answered her knock at the sit-
ting-room door. “I’ve just moved into the
house across the way, and I thought I’d call and
bring you some flowers and ask if you had a
little pot pie you could spare me for dinner.
Tm all out of pot pie.”

“Are you, indeed?” said mamma, “that is

I haven’t had any in most forty-two years.”

“Isit possible? That certainly is hard; but
here again my little girl isin the way. She is so
extremely fond of strawberries that when they
first begin to come in the spring it is very hard
to get enough to satisfy her.”

Mrs. Delexity looked grave. It began to
seem to her that her neighbor’s little girl was
something of a nuisance.

“Don’t you think,” she said, after a thought-



MYRTLE’S

“APRIL FOOL.”





ful pause, “that your little girl ought to be
brought up to think of the poor and needy?”

Mamma stooped over her work basket sud-
denly to hide a laugh, then she said: “I think
so, certainly; but that is a very hard lesson to
teach little girls. My little daughter doesn’t un-
derstand these things very well. Last night she
actually cried because she was asked to share
her milk with Mrs. Gray’s baby.”

Then there was silence for as much as two
minutes, after which the caller looked up
with her own winning smile.

“ Mamma,” she said, “I’m not Mrs. Delexity,
I’m your own little girl. Itis just an April fool,
you know; and I think I cried last night be-
cause I was sleepy. I don’t mean to cry any
more; the baby may have all my milk to-night
— every drop, and some strawberries, too.”

“That is my own unselfish little girl,” said
mamma. “TI like her better than Mrs. Delexity
a great deal.”

“Well, mamma, tell me truly and surely,
were you just a little bit fooled? Because it is
April fool to-morrow, you know, and I want to
know how.”

“Tt was a lovely April fool,” said mamma;
“ the very prettiest one J eversaw in my life. If
all of them were as swest and as harmless I
should not have so much reason to dislike and
dread them as I do.” Thesentence closed with
along-drawn sigh ; Mrs. Markham had forgotten
she was speaking to her wee daughter, and had
become what Myrtle called “grown up” before
she finished her remark.

The boys understood it, though, and won-
dered over the sigh. These were her two
nephews, who with their mother were on a visit
at Aunt Laura’s, and were at this moment at
work in the little play room which opened from
the sitting-room, getting ready a contrivance
which they meant to use next day. Just before
Mrs. Delexity’s arrival, Whiting had said to
Andy, “If this rig I’m fixing for myself doesn’t
scare her, nothing will.”

“T don’t believe it begins with mine,” laughed
Andy. Then they had stopped to listen and to
gigele over “Mrs. Delexity.”

That last sentence, however, sounded like a
story, and by common consent both boys ap-
peared in a few minutes to get it if they could.

“Aunt Laura, do you truly dislike April
fools? What makes you?”

“T have good reason to,” Aunt Laura said,
smiling ou them, but growing grave almost im-
mediately. Then, after amoment’s silence: “I
believe Dll tell you two boys a little story. I
don’t tell it often. I had a beautiful brother,
once, about your age, Whiting, ora little older;
the handsomest boy, I think, I ever saw, and cer-
tainly one of the best; so cheery, he was, and
unselfish and thoughtful for others. We lived
two miles from town, and brother Will used to
go back and forth on horseback. He hada pony
of his own, a gentle, well-trained creature whom
we thought was not afraid of anything. But
one day, on the first of April, all the boys in
school had been wild to play tricks on one an-
other, and on everybody whom they could
catch. Will never played April fool tricks.
He seemed above them. He was good-natured
about it, and would laugh when there was any-
thing really funny, but they hardly ever caught
him; he was too sharp for them. It seems they
were determined to make him their victim if
possible, so they planned that when he rode
home just at dusk — he always went for the mail
at that time — half a dozen of them were going
to dress up as highway robbers and rush out at
him from a bit of wood through which he had
to pass, and demand his pocketbook. They
carried out their plan, so far as to rusb out and
call to him in gruff voices. He was not in the
least frightened. He knew them at once, and
called the leader by name; but poor Tony the
horse was not so wise. It was very dim twilight
and something about their shadows frightened
him; we shall never know what; he acted as
he never had before, reared and plunged, and
finally threw Will off. We struck his back
against a large stone at the side of the path.
That was the last ride my beautiful strong
young brother ever took! He lived three long
hard years, in great pain, unable to sit up in
bed; his back was hurt by the stone. And
when he was only seventeen years old he died.
My only brother.”

“TIumph!” said Andy, in a hoarse voice,
after a long stiliness, “that was as mean as
dirt.”

Aunt Laura brushed a tear from her cheek



MYRTLE'S “APRIL FOOL.”

















































































































































































































































































































































MRS, DELEXITY.



MYRTLE’S

“APRIL FOOL.”—RESURRECTION.





and smiled on him: “ They didn’t intend to be
mean, Andy; they all liked him. They were
only April fooling.”

The boys went back presently to their work,
and were still for several minutes; then Andy
said :

“ Say, Whiting, don’t let’s.”

“ All right,” said Whiting promptly, “say
we don’t.”

“ You see,” said Andy, “her pony may scare,
after all, if it does look like an old sheep; and
if she is queer-looking and long-haired, and all
that, she might get hurt all the same; and we'd
never want to hold up our heads again, Whiting
Stuart, if anything should come of it. She
don’t look any queerer than her brother Jake
does, and maybe he doesn’t know how to saddle
a horse and she might tumble off. Think of
Aunt Laura’s brother Will!”

“T’m agreed to give it up,” said Whiting
with decision. “Let the long-haired girl ride
her sleepy little nag in peace, for all I shall
trouble her. I say, Andy, wasn’t it queer that
the story should have been about a pony and a
scare, and April fool, and all?”

“Queer as sixty,” said Andy. Pansy.

POEM FOR EASTER RECITATION, |
RESURRECTION.

OLD is the midnight air ;
Judea’s vine-clad heights in silence lie,
And dark, you rugged cliffs their shadows fling
Across the olive glens in softness veiled,
Beneath the silver beams of the pale moon.

But hark! there is a sound!
dares

Intrude on spot so sacred? Who disturb

The quiet of the grave? A grave that could

Alone afford repose to Him chase life

Had been one lasting tempest of rebuke,

And scorn, and bitterness, and blackest hate !

What omteis

Who dares approach?
friend

Whose agony and love scorns all restraint,

And at the noon of night, seeks the lone tomb.

Unless some priceless

Is it the noiseless step — the smothered sigh
Of holy friendship, seeking ev’n in death

To hold communion with the loved and lost?
No; ’tis the martial clank of steel-clad men,
The measured tread of Roman sentinels,
Who sullen pace the private garden paths,
And watch the tomb of Jesus.

Wherefore thus?

Does Death not hold secure enough his
prey? 7

Make all secure! Let rocks be sealed,

And men of war be placed at every avenue,

With lance and sword, to guard the still domain.

O earth and heaven !
shakes

The adamantine pillars that have reared

Their dark volcanic heaps against the sky,

So many ages! See, the rocks are rent!

And opening wide, disclose their secret depths.

And mighty thunderings awake this peaceful
dawn.

What dread convulsion

Ye men of blood and valor, who have stood

Unblanched on battle-fields,

Why stand ye thus, with terror-stricken ON

And rolling eye?

The white-robed messengers OE heaven’s high
Ising

Are hovering o’er your heads!

_ now,

Within that sepulchre, is going on—— a mystery.

No human hand may feel the first warm throb

That stirs beneath the shroud.

No eye may view the mantling bloom of re-
awakened life, —

But now — he lives!

And near you

Mrrcur.t.
From Foster's Cyclopedia.

Wuen men do anything for God, the very
least thing, they never know where it will end,
nor what amount of work it will do for him.
Love’s secret, therefore, is to be always doing
things for God, and not to mind because they
are such very little ones. ‘Cast thy bread
upon the running waters, for after a long time
thou shalt find it again.” — Selected.



Steg 2 re me

BESSIE CARPENTER’S NEIGHBOR.





BE ete CARPENTER’S NEIGHBOR.




er was ever ashamed of anybody in my
life I am of you!” This was Bessie’s
remark to her dog Guard as she stood
him up in her lap on his hind feet after
having given him some hearty shakes by way of
punishment.

“The idea of your chasing poor Toby all
over the grounds, when she is so fat she can
scarcely run, too; and barking at her until she
did not know whether she was a cat, or just a
bundle of scare. What if she did put up her
back and spit at you? Asif that could hurt a
great handsome dog like you to be spit at by a
poor little old cat! Isay, sir, J am ashamed of
you. As carefully as you have been brought
up! What isthe use of teaching you anything?
Don’t. you know that Toby is your neighbor,
and that you ought to love her as well as you
do yourself ?

« Didn’t I try my best to explain that to you
only yesterday? And didn’t you bark three
times, which everybody knows means Yes in
your language, when I asked if you understood ?
And here the very next day you go and dis-
grace yourself. That isn’t the worst of it;
you have disgraced me, too. You belong to
me, sir, and you can’t go around doing mean
things without disgracing me. Pm ashamed to
look Mrs. Parkhurst in the face, now, because
she knows that my dog Guard has been chasing
her ugly yellow cat.” :

Guard looked the picture of dignified sullen-
ness, refused to bark or to wag his tail, or do
anything but shake himself and try to get away.
His mistress put him down, presently, smiling
and sighing almost in the same breath.

“Poor fellow! you are only adog. Whata
pity it seems, when you know so much. Never
mind, Guard; you are not to blame for not un-
derstanding the Golden Rule. It isn’t for you to
practice on, I suppose — that’s one comfort —
or you would have been given brains enough to
understand it. But you will have to be taught
by the hardest, not to chase Mrs. Parkhurst’s
cat. I won’t have that, anyway. You will
have to be whipped, Guard, if you do it again.
Do you understand that?”

She shook her finger at him with a mixture of

playfulness and warning, brushed one or two of
his curly hairs from her apron and ran away to ©
finish her dusting.

A very pretty girl was Bessie Carpenter. A
general favorite among the girls and boys of
her set. A leader among them, in fact. On
this particular morning she was unusually happy,
even for her. In two days more she would be
thirteen; and among other delights which she
was sure that day would bring, she was to have
a party. Not avery large one; just the girls
and boys who belonged to her classes in school
and at Sunday-school; but her mother had
made very choice preparations for them, and
Bessie suspected a beautiful secret was being
planned, which had to do with two large car-
riages and double spans of horses. Her father
had just hinted at something of the sort;
enough to give him a chance to laugh at the
glow on her cheek and the sparkle in her eyes.

Bessie did not understand the secret fully,
but she felt almost certain there was one, and
she could trust her father. .

While she went about with her gay-colored
feather duster, filliping little flecks of dust here
and there, she moralized a little on the differ-
ence between her and Guard.

“Ts it really harder for a dog to do right than
it is for people,” she said, “ because he doesn’t
understand? Now if I could only make him
learn just that little rule about loving his neigh-
bor ag himself, how easy it would be for him to
see why he mustn’t chase Toby, hateful old cat .
though she is. It is a nice rule, I think; it
makes everything so plain. And it is easy
enough so far as I can see.”

Her thoughts went out to the neighbors on
either side of her. There was Alice Parkhurst,
her dear friend and constant companion. They
had but one point of difference; Bessie could
never understand how Alice could fondle that
great fat yellow cat, even kiss her, and seem to
care so little for Guard! But she never said
anything about it to Alice. Then there was
Ned Parkhurst, Alice’s brother; everybody
liked him; he was just a splendid boy. Across
the street lived dear old Mrs. Burnham and her
lovely married daughter with her sweet baby.
« All of them just as lovely as they can be!”
said Bessie with emphasis. “I’m sure there is



BESSIE CARPENTER’S NEIGHBOR.





no trouble in liking them just exactly as well as
we do ourselves. And as for the Harts who
live on the other side, they are never at home,
and I don’t know them very well, but I like
them well enough ; I should like them very much
indeed, I think, if I knew them.”

By this time she was at the gate, her pretty
work apron laid aside, her wavy hair pushed
back inside her broad sun hat, and, basket in
hand, on her way to the post-officé for her
father’s morning mail. This was one of her
morning duties. Bessie’s face was sunny still;
she liked all her morning duties; she liked her
world very much. She nodded politely to Mrs.
Burnham’s daughter across the way, and threw
a kiss to the baby who was held up for her
to sce, and thought once more how “nice”
their neighbors all were. Suddenly, with ‘the
lock of the gate still clicking behind her, Bessie
came to a halt; a look of surprise, almost of
dismay, coming into her face.

There was the girl who lived at the Harts
standing at the gate this minute; the girl with
the freckled face and homely nose, who always
wore calico dresses even to church. The girl
who worked for her board and went to school;
and who had no home, and no brothers and
sisters, and the Harts had taken her to stay at
their house because she was the daughter of an
old housekeeper of theirs and they felt sorry
for her.

All this Bessie had known for months; but
the thought which came to her new this morn-
ing and almost overwhelmed her was, that this
freckled-face girl was her neighbor!

“It’s all the home she has,” thought Bessie,
‘and she lives exactly next door to us; there’s
no getting around that. To be sure she never
goes in our set, but neither does Toby Park-
hurst go in Guard’s set ; she can’t get a chance,
poor old cat”—with a little laugh over the
thought of how she would be treated if she at-
tempted it — “perhaps that is the reason Jane
Austen never comes with us. What if I
should! Bessie Carpenter, what if you really
should!”

The overwhelming thought which had
brought the little line of wrinkles out on Bessie’s
forehead was, “ What if I should ask Jane
Austen to my birthday party!” That would

be a surprise to the others, certainly. Could
she doit? Ought she? There was a sudden
dash at last for the post-office, a very rapid
home-coming, and an almost breathless young
woman rushed upstairs to her mother. Such
a great thought as this demanded immediate
sharing.

An hour afterwards she opened the sash of
her French window, stepped out on her piazza,
and called, “ Alice!”

There was an instant raising of the sash
across the lawn and Alice’s curly yellow head
looked out of the window. She had Toby in
her arms.

“Pve got something to tell you. I’m going
to invite Jane Austen to my birthday party.”

“Why-ee! Bessie Carpenter, you’re not, are
you?”

“Yes, I am, truly. I thought about it, and
I’ve been talking with mamma about it, and I’ve
decided to do it.”

“Well, sure enough, why not?” demanded
Alice, after a thoughtful pause. “ She’ll like it,
of course; and the poor thing looks dreadfully
lonesome. Let’s ask her to join our society and
go to things with the others. Why not?”

“Tm sure I don’t know. We ought to, you
see. She’s our neighbor, Alice Parkhurst.
Don’t you remember last Sunday’s talk in the
class?”

“Y-e-s,” said Alice recollectively, ‘so she is.
Well, I would, if I were you; and I will.
Bessie, only look at Toby’s foot where she hurt
it this morning running from Guard. I wish
you could teach Guard to love his neighbors.”

“So do I,” laughed Bessie. “But, you see,
he’s only a dog.” Pansy.

Iv is stated that President Harrison, when
the arrangements had been made for his inau-
gural train to start on Saturday, refused to start
at that time, as that would necessitate his trav-
cling on the Sabbath, to which he objected.
“Tf thou tun away thy foot from the Sabbath
from doing thy pleasure on my holy day; and
call the Sabbath a delight, the holy of the Lord,
honorable ; then I will cause thee to ride upon
the high places of the earth, and feed thee with
the heritage of Jacob thy father.”





(



























































































































































































































































WHEN GRANDMOTHER WAS A LITTLE GIRL.





JOHNNY.





JOHNNY.

By
T was a very pretty room, that one where
Johnny lived. The walls were covered
with cheerful paper; there were a few
bright pictures ; the pretty crib- bedstead
that belonged to Johnny, was made up in spot-
less white, and everything everywhere was as
neat and sweet as thoughtful hands could
make it.

Johnny lived in a great big house —oh!
ever so much larger than your home. There
were wide long halls reaching from one end of
the great house to the other ; there were rooms,
and rooms, and rooms! Some of them very
large, and some small and cosey. There were
beautiful green lawns stretching out from the
broad piazzas, and grand old trees with seats
under them for tired people, and, under one, a
carpet spread, on which some merry babies
tumbled, and kicked and crowed.

A lovely home was this for Johnny, and
everybody was kind to him, yet you would not
have liked to change places with him. Let me
tell you why?

The name of Johnny’s home was “ Hospital.”
A blessed place for the poor sick homeless chil-
dren; thank God for the grand men and women
who thought of it, and planned it. Still one’s
own little home is of course a hundred times
better, if only one has a home; Johnny hadn't,
until he was brought to this.

Another reason is, the woman who bends
over Johnny when his back aches, and his head
aches, and soothes and comforts him, is named
Nurse. A warm-hearted, pleasant-faced, kind-
voiced woman —God bless her!—still one’s
own dear mother would of course be many
times better, when one’s head ached; only
Johnny had no mother.

Still another reason. That poor back of
Johnny’s is not like yours. It often aches. It
has been hurt. ‘The nurse and the doctor hope
he will be well sometime, so he can walk out
in the pleasant yard with the help of crutches;
but they are not sure even of that. They
know he will never walk without them.

How came Johnny here?

One morning, the matron of the hospital and
the nurse of this ward looked at one another

i

sadly and shook their heads.
turned to the doctor and spoke:
nished room is full, Doctor. It is too bad! Pm
so sorry for the poor little fellow; it seems as
though he ought to come in. His mother dead,
and his father drunk, most of the time. Dear,
dear! But we can’t help it. We have rooms,
but not a bit of furniture or bedding, or any-
thing to put in them, and no money to spare
this month. It is very hard.”

Something happened that very afternoon..

Then the matron °
“Every fur-

A letter came, saying the Pansy Society of |



have raised fifty dollars with which to
furnish another room in the hospital.
want some poor sick child put into it as soon
as possible. .

“That he shall be, poor little fellow!” said
the matron, when she heard the news, and she.

and the doctor looked at one another, and
smiled.
brought from oh! such a desolate place, to this.

home, and this sweet clean room, and this soft..

bed.
Something else happened.

dressed to the matron, lay on top. It read:
“The Pansy Society of

the sick little children in the hospital.



Will

the matron please distribute the books and toys’

as she thinks best?”

You may be sure some of them came to-

Johnny.
before, in his life!

He had never owned a picture book

They were both very happy.

So were the members ‘of the Pansy Society
who had sent the box.
of that other Pansy Society who had sent the
money to furnish Johnny’s room.

A great many Pansies are ‘doing such work.
in the world. It is beautiful work. Pansy.

Tur truest confession of love to God ig
made by deeds of love to God done to our
fellow-men in his name.

They '

Two days afterwards, Johnny was.

One day there’
came a box from the freight office, which, when
opened, proved to be filled with nice things...
Books, and toys, and cards, and dollies, all ee
good order, and neatly packed. A letter ad-

send this box for’

One of the children who.
was almost well, came in from her play to help:
Johnny look at the pictures, and enjoy his book.

So were the members.







A PRACTICAL

—

A PRACTICAL APPLICATION,



ESAT had been a very busy morning.
Laura and Minnie had been hard
at work over their lessons, getting
ready for the summer examinations.
Moreover, there was a musical “ Re-

tising was required to getreadyfor it. All this
made them feel more hurried and nervous than
usual; but they reached the middle of the after-
noon without more serious trouble than being
unable to make good sense of a sentence in
the French essay they were translating. At
last they went to Cousin Caryl who had studied
French and graduated; of course she ought to
know.

But Cousin Caryl, if she had graduated, was
puzzled over the sentence and knitted her brows,

i
at
A

HAVING A ‘HURSAL,’?
and struggled with the crooked verb, while the
girls lounged on either side of her and waited.
It was just at that moment that Laura remarked :
“ Minnie, you ought to begin to do your hair
up; you will not get it in manageable trim for

the Anniversaries, if you don’t train it. I
always hate to change the style of wearing my

hearsal” in the air, and much prac- -



APPLICATION.

hair just before ’m to be hurried and flurried
over anything.”

“T’m not going to change the style of wear-
ing my hair,” said Minnie, composedly. I’m
going to wear it down my back all summer; I
think itis ever so much less trouble, and besides,
J like it better.”

“ Well, but, Minnie, it won’t do to wear alight
silk with your hair in that shape; it will soil it.”

“Who said I was going to wear alight silk?”
Minnie asked, her fair cheeks flushing.

“Don’t you expect to have Aunt Mary’s light
silk made over for you for the Anniversaries ?”

“No, I just don’t. How absurd it would
look for me to wear a silk, and you who are two
years older, wear white. That light silk wouldn’t
become me, either; it isn’t my color at all.”

“But, Minnie, you know mamma said she
couldn’t afford to get two new white dresses
this season; and the silk is lovely, and Aunt
Mary gave it for that purpose.”

“T know all that; it won’t cost any more to
have a white dress bought for me than it will
for you, and the silk is becoming to you and it
isn’t to me. Besides, you are the oldest and
ought to wear silk if either of us do.”

“T’m the oldest and therefore I ought to have
the new dress,” said Laura, positively, her
cheeks also growing very red.

“T don’t think so; I’m to play at the Re-
hearsal, and all the girls who play will be
dressed in white. Wouldn’t I feel comfortable
rigged up in Aunt Mary’s old silk while the
others all wore white?” ¥

“ Wouldn’t you feel quite as comfortable as
T should?”

“No, I wouldn’t; because you don’t play;
and some of the singers will dress in colors;
and the dress will become you and it won’t me.”

“ Well,” said Laura, “ J shall speak to mamma
about it, and we'll see. I’m the older and en-
titled to the new dress, and you will find she
thinks so.”

“I don’t believe I shall find any such thing,”
declared -Minnie, her cheeks almost blazing
through the delicate blonde skin. “ Mamma
has good taste, and she weuld see the absurdity .
of such an arrangement. What difference do
you think it makes because you are twenty
months older than I?”



A PRACTICAL

APPLICATION.





a



Now both of these girls were getting very
much excited; there is no telling what they
might have said next, but for an interruption.

It did not come from Cousin Caryl; she was
a cousin who had known the girls but a few
weeks, and she not only felt embarrassed at
their having this dischssion before her, but she
did not know in the least what to say. Nobody

you would have to do as the ’ciples did, put
down your heads and look ’shamed.”

Imagine how those two sisters felt! They
looked at one another for a moment in dumb
astonishment; then they looked at Cousin
Caryl, then all three broke into laughter.

«You little darling!” said Laura, dashing
after Alice, and smothering her, apron and all,



THE DISCUSSION.

thought of little Alice, who was in the conserva-
tory which opened from the sitting-room, and
which she had appropriated as a play room since
the plants had moved-out doors. She had laid
“Emmeline Augusta” and “Harriet Jane
Lorelia”” on the seat behind her, had put on
Laura’s ruffled kitchen apron and Cousin Caryl’s
gun hat, and was having a “hursal” all by her-
self, holding up her sheet music with a dig-
nified air,as much like Laura’s as she could.
In one of the pauses of the music she had
caught the excited tones of Minnie’s voice and
had stopped to listen.

Something about the talk reminded the mid-
get of the very last Bible story she had heard,
which happened to be the one where the disciples
had been disputing by the way, who should be
greatest. Suddenly her clear, silvery voice
broke into the discussion: ‘If Jesus should come
now and ask you what you were talking “bout,

under hugs and kisses. When she looked up
there was a suspicious sparkle on her eyelashes,
but her voice was sweet.

“JT don’t care about the dress much, Minnie ;
I'll have the silk one if you would so much
rather.”

“Well, I wouldn't,” said Minnie quickly.
“You ought to have the new one, of course.
You are the oldest.”



A rire of business men in Missouri have
issued the following advertisement:

« Any man who drinks two drams of whiskey -

per day, for a year, and pays ten cents a drink
for it, can have at our store thirty sacks of
flour, two hundred and twenty pounds of granu-
lated stigar, and seventy-five pounds of green
coffee, for the same money, and get two dollars
and fifty cents premium for making the change
in his expenditures.”.







BEN-HADAD’S FIRST CHRISTMAS.



HERE lives in Cleveland, Ohio, a bright
Bobemian girl. Her parents are infidels.
She used to go to Sunday-school, but ceased,
read Bohemian infidel papers, attended worldly
amusements, assisting in acting at a theatre,
and lost faith in God. She had to make the
fire every morning early. She was not very
successful, often trying several times before it
would burn.
God and His answers to prayer, and she thought
within herself, “If God answers, why not ask
‘Him to aid me to make a fire?’ She tried it,
and lo, the fire started at once. Then she got
the Pansy books, the reading of which was
blessed to her conversion. Now she has re-
nounced the world, determined not only upon
a Christian life, but to be a missionary to her
people.”

NE day in India a native came to the mis-
sionary who was his teacher, and said he
had been talking with some sailors who were
bad men, because they told wicked lies. He
said, among other things they told him that the
water where they lived sometimes got so hard
that men could stand on it! That they could
stand in the middle of a river, and the water
would be too hard to let them through. “But
of course,” said the native, “ you know I would
not believe such a silly lie as that! I know
better.”

“Well,” said the missionary, “that story is
true. Ihave often stood on the water when it
was so hard that men and horses and even
elephants would not break it. Do you believe
that?” :

Over the face of the native came an aston-
ished and puzzled look, but his answer was
prompt.

“Yes, I believe it because you say so;
but I don’t see how it can be!” Let me tell
you what I thought when I read this true
story. ,

I could not help thinking how much more
ready this converted heathen was to believe
what his missionary said, even though he could
not understand how it could be, than we are
sometimes to believe the Lord Jesus Christ
Himself.

Somewhere she had read about |

————=s.

BEN-HADAD’S FIRST CHRISTMAS.

PART I.





j ITTLE Ben-Hadad stood leaning on
6G the window-sill, looking out into the
bit of a yard. There was nothing
to be seen in it then, except snow
and one lonesome tree, gaunt and
bare, that shivered a little every time the wind
blew around the corner. Up and down the
street there was nothing but snow —on the
houses, on the trees, on the few people that
ventured out on the bitterly cold day —un-
usually cold, even for the day before Christmas.
Ben-Hadad shivered. Just then a man went
by, his overcoat buttoned tightly about him,
carrying over his shoulder a Christmas tree, its
long evergreen branches covered with snow,
like the rest of the world. The boy looked
after him thoughtfully. “I suppose,” he said,
thinking aloud, “that we will have Christmas
this year. Won’t it be fun?”

More men went by. The sun was warming
the air, and women began to venture out.
Every one that passed Ben-Hadad knew was
preparing for Christmas. Pocket-books went
one way, and packages of all shapes and sizés
returned. “I suppose,” said Ben-Hadad again,
“that there is nothing in the pocket-books when
they come back, so they don’t care to show
them.” Then he reached down into his pocket
and brought out a dingy two-cent piece, laugh-
ing as he surveyed it doubtfully. “I might
buy a stick of candy for Uncle Flatiron,” he
said, and laughed again,

The door opened just then, and a woman
came in, “To whom are you talking, Ben-
WTadad?” she asked. “And why do you
nearly freeze yourself over there by the win-
dow? Your nose looks like an icicle.”

“T was just thinking aloud, mother, and not
talking to any one. It isn’t very cold here.
My nose is cold because I have been leaning
it against the glass. Come see these birds,
mother. Don’t you like to see the people go
by? They are all getting ready for Christmas.
Don’t they look cold?—the birds, I mean.
Can’t we have Christmas this year?”

“Yow you can talk!” said Mother Hadad,



BEN-HADAD’S FIRST CHRISTMAS.





coming to the window, and looking over the
boy’s shoulder. ‘Yes, Bennie, I think we will
have Christmas this year.”

“That will be nice,” said Bennie decidedly.

“T have always wanted to, when everybody~

seemed to have such fine times, and now the
time has come.”

“ We have only just learned how to celebrate
it, Bennie.” And the boy thought he saw a
wee tear intrude upon the soot on the window-
_ sill. He looked up quickly, but no more ven-
tured out.

“See those birds, mother. Don’t they look
hungry? How do you suppose they will get
anything to eat?”

“T don’t know,” said Mother Hadad, smiling.
“That is, unless you give them some crumbs
off that dry loaf in the pantry.”

“ May I, mother?”

“Tf you will promise not to keep the window
open a'minute after you have put them out,
and be sure’and not stop to throw a snowball
at any one.”

He laughed, and ran away to get the crumbs.



did not love, that he had told them about Him,
and little by little they had been persuaded to
go to his “teacher’s church,” and, to make a
long story short, first Mother Hadad, and then
Father Hadad, had learned to love the Christ,
too, and as little Ben said — only to himself,
not even aloud — “they were both nicer than
they had been before, although of course he
couldn’t love them any more.” |

But after his father and mother had joined
the Christian church, hard times began for
them. For Father Hadad was discharged from
the store where he was working, and they be-
came very poor; sometimes had hardly enough
to eat.

‘It was only about a month before my story

begins that the father had got another place — .

in a store where he received a good salary
—and good times began again for the Hadad
family.

That was how this came to be their first
Christmas.

At supper that night, when Father Hadad
had come home, they began very earnestly to

BEN-HADAD’S VISITORS.

And now, to introduce you to this family: it
consisted of Father and Mother Hadad, and
little Ben-Hadad, all Jews, whose ancestors,
years and years ago, had come over from Pales-
tine. But this year little Ben had been invited
into a Christian Sunday-school, where he learned
so much of Jesus, whom his father and mother

talk over what they would do to celebrate.
“J was called into the office to-day,” said the
father, “and Mr. Sanborn said we would close
the store to-morrow, so he would wish me a
Merry Christmas, and would Ben come to his
house in the morning and get something he and
his wife wanted to send us to celebrate with.”



BEN-

HADAD’S FIRST CHRISTMAS.





“What do you suppose it can be?” asked
Ben-Hadad, his eyes shining.

“JT presume a chicken, or something of that
sort. Mr. Sanborn has a very large poultry
yard, and they tell me that every Christmas he
gives away a great number of chickens and
f turkeys.”

“Tt was kind in him to remember us,” said
Mother Hadad thoughtfully; not as though
she were thinking of what she said, but of
something else.

Presently she laid down her fork, and bend-
ing over to him, whispered in his ear, “ Let us
have a Christmas party!”

Ben-Hadad looked at her to see that she was
in earnest, and clapping his hands, exclaimed,
“ Wouldn’t that be splendid?”

“ Hush!” said Mother Hadad aloud. “ Don’t
tell your father. I guess we can have a secret
of our own.”

Father Hadad raised his hands in mock
despair. “And is my family to tum against
me, and form conspiracies ?” he asked.

“Never you mind,” said his wife, langhing
across the teapot. “I’ve always heard that
Christmas Eve was the time for secrets. Naw,
Ben-Hadad, if you want to talk it over with
me after supper, you will have to help me clear
off the table and wipe the dishes.”

“ All right,” said Bennie, and he was soon
~ armed with a towel. “ said he.

“Not until the work is done,” said
mother. “I must think a little first.”

/ Thinking,” with Ben-Hadad, was hard to
* do at any time, so busy did he keep his tongue.
~ “Mother,” he began presently, “do you sup-





DAP
3egin,





lis

; pose any of our ereat-great-great-grandfathers
—away back, you know—lived near Bethle-
* hem?”
~ ©0 yes!” said Mother Hadad, as she briskly
i ‘ washed a plate. “My family was a Bethlehem

«' one — of the house of David; and so was your
father’s. That makes me think of an old Christ-
mas legend they used to tell in his family.”

“Christmas? They didn’t have any.”

“T know it. But the Hadads that lived in
4 » Bethlehem when Christ was born, were Chris-

‘vians; at least so the story goes. It is about
, little Ben-Hadad, who they say was just your
J age.”

f
i



‘
'b

ner tac

“Go ahead,” said Ben-Hadad briefly, using
terms which I am sure would have shocked his
ancestor.

“Jt is very little of a story. Ben-Hadad was
wandering around one evening, looking for
something todo. You know there were a great
many people in the 2 for they. had come up
to be taxed.”

“T wouldn’t have come if I had been they,”
observed Ben-Hadad. ‘ Let the tax man come
to them!”

“ Then you would have been arrested, per-
haps, for the Romans looked out for their taxes.
But little Ben-Hadad, your ancestor, liked to see
the people, and while he was taking his walk,
he came across the stable where Mary and
Joseph were.”

“ And the baby ?”

“ And the Christ-child. He was there when
the Wise Men from the Hast came with their
gifts, and looked at them wonderingly. And
when he saw where the baby layin the manger,
and that there was but a little straw in it for a
bed, he went about and gathered more, and
brought it to the strange cradle. And just as
Mary was thanking him, the shepherds came in
and told of the angels and their song: ‘Glory
to God in the highest, and on earth peace,
good-will toward When Ben-Hadad
grew up, he saw Jesus crucified, and always
afterward.he wore about his neck a cross made
of two wisps of straw, in memory of what he
had done for the Christ-child.”

“That is a beautiful story,” said Ben-Hadad,
when his mother was silent. “ Do you suppose
it is true, mother?”

“No,” said Mother Hadad, “I do not sup-
pose it is. Stories brought down from so long
ago are apt to be mere traditions. But I think
myself it is a sweet legend, and I will tell you
presently something that I think it teaches.
You have finished your dishes now. While I
am putting the kitchen in order, suppose you
get the Bible, and read me the story of
Christmas, to celebrate Christmas Eve; first in
Matthew, then in Luke.”

So Ben-Hadad got their new Bible, and read
the old story of the shepherds and the Wise
Men, and the star which shone over one of
Bethlehem’s lowliest stables, —

men.’



BEN-HADAD’S FIRST

CHRISTMAS.





“Jn the starry midnight,
Centuries ago.”

Meantime Mother Hadad moved rapidly
about the little kitchen, and hung up the dish-
pans, and brushed off the stove.

Ben-Hadad was silent fora moment or two
when he had finished. “Mother,” he said
presently, “I think that song was the prettiest
thing that ever was written.”

«“ What song, Bennie?”

“Why, the angels’ ‘Glory to God,’ you
know.”

“JT don’t know but I think so, too,”
Mother Hadad.

There was silence then for a long time, save
for the swish of her broom.

“What are you thinking of, Bennie?” she
asked, after a few moments.

“Twas thinking,” said he thoughtfully, “how
much I would like to have been there.”

“Jn Bethlehem?”

“Yes. To have done anything like what he
did, you know, for the Christ.”

Ben-Hadad’s sentences were rather mixed,
but his mother understood him.

“ Bennie,” she said, “turn to the twenty-fifth
chapter of Matthew, and read the fortieth
verse.”

After some searching, Ben-Hadad read:
« And the King shall answer and say unto them,
Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have
done it unto one of the least of these my
brethren, ye have done it unto me.”

“Do you see,” asked Mother Hadad, “ that
you have as much opportunity to do something
for the Christ as had little Ben-Hadad of
Bethlehem ?”

Ben-Hadad was thoughtful. ‘ Mother,” he
asked, “ was that the lesson you wanted me to
learn from the straw story?”

His mother smiled and nodded as she took a
seat by the fire in a low rocker. “Come,” she
said, “now to our party. We can’t afford a
fire in the parlor to-night, we are going to be so
expensive to-morrow. I am going to let you
invite two people to a Christmas supper to-
morrow night. We will have that chicken that
Mr. Sanborn will send us, and mashed potatoes ;
I will make a little apple sauce or something,
for a relish, and you can buy some candy and

said

a cake at the baker’s; we will have a regular
Christmas. Your father had his next month’s
salary paid in advance, and he and I decided
that we could spend a little more money than -
usual, seeing it is our first Christmas.”

Ben-Hadad’s face had grown brighter and
more astonished at every sentence of his
mother’s. “How perfectly magnificent!” he
said. “And I may invite two whole people to
the house ?”

“Unless you have them in pieces,” said his
mother, smiling.

“Whom would you invite ?”

“Two of the least,” said Mother Hadad
promptly.

Ben-Hadad looked astonished.

“ Two of the least of ‘His brethren,’ I mean.
You have not forgotten your lesson? If I
were you, Bennie, I would invite the most dis-
agreeable person and the most uncomfortable
person that I knew.”

Ben-Hadad laughed. “That would be a
funny party. Well, the most disagreeable per-
son I know is Uncle Flatiron—he is the most
uncomfortable person, too, but I will have to
find another.”

Uncle Flatiron was a very cross and very
deaf old man who lived next door, and was so
called because he kept fastened to his door an.
ancient flat-iron for visitors to knock with, as
he could not hear ordinary knocks. The wicked
little boys of the neighborhood used to throw
snowballs against the house, to make him think:
some one was rapping, and come to the door.

Much discussion was held between Ben-
Hadad and his mother concerning the Christ-
mas party, and it was agreed that the former
should invite Uncle Flatiron, and look about,
between then and the next evening, for some
other uncomfortable person.

“ Mother,” he said, “I’m not sure that Uncle
Flatiron is a ¢ brethren.’ ”

Mother Hadad smiled. “God hath made of
one blood all the nations of the earth,” she
said, “and whether he recognizes his family or
not, he is a‘ brethren,’ as you say, all the same.”

Two or three blocks fron the Hadads’ home -
was a large stone church where little Ben-Hadac ¢
used to love to go on Saturday evenings, to
hear the choir, which was a very fine one,











CHRISTMAS.

FIRST

BEN-HADAD’S

a
fd
|
o
4
is]
a
a
%
<
8
4















BEN-HADAD’S FIRST

CHRISTMAS.



practice for the next day. As he had heard
they were to rehearse the Christmas service, he
went around that evening and got his usual
place, a corner near the door; the sexton was a
friend of his, and always let him come in to listen.

The cushions of his seat were soft, and some--

times he would fall asleep during the singing.
In the church there was a large and fine
painting, which the sexton said had been
copied by a very great artist, from one which
represented Mary and the Christ-child. The
face of the mother was gentle and sweet, and
that of the child such a wonderful mingling
of tenderness and simplicity and thoughtful-
ness, that Ben-Hadad never tired of looking at
it. To-night he thought both faces seemed
more lovely than usual, in honor of the great
birthday of to-morrow, and the child seemed
listening to the music the choir sang of Him.

For they sang beautiful songs that evening, ©

Ben-Hadad thought. “It could not have been,”
he said to himself, “that the song of the angels
over the pastures of Bethlehem sounded much
sweeter.” They sang “Glory to God in the
highest, and on earth peace, good-will toward
men!” The wonderful “ Hallelujah Chorus”
from Handel, which has never been equalled,
Ben listened to almost without breathing; but
the best thing of all, was when a very beautiful
lady arose in one corner of the choir, and in a
voice of such richness and sweetness as little
Ben-Hadad had never before heard, sang these
words : —
“0 little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie!

Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by.

Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting light;

The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee to-night.

O morning stars, together
Proclaim the holy birth!

And praises sing to God the King,
And peace to men on earth.

For Christ is born of Mary,
And gathered all above,

While mortals sleep the angels keep
Their watch of wondering love.

How silently, how silently
The wondrous gift is given!
Se God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of his heaven.

No ear may hear His coming,
But in this world of sin,

Where meck souls will receive Him still,
The dear Christ enters in,

Where children pure and happy
Pray to the blessed Child,

Where misery cries out to thee
Son of the Mother mild,

Where Charity stands watching,
And Faith holds wide the door,

The dark night wakes, the glory breaks,
And Christmas comes once more.

O holy child of Bethlehem,
Descend to us, we pray!
Cast out our sin and enter in,

Be born in us to-day.

We hear the Christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell;

O come to us, abide with us,
Our Lord Emmanuel!” *

PaRaNETE.

HERE once was a great preacher by the
name of Monod. In one of his sermons
he told a story about two little girls who were:
watching the sunset. The older one told her
little sister to notice what a long way the sun:
had traveled since morning. The little one.
reminded her that father had told them only
that morning that the sun did not move.
“Yes,” said the older sister, “but I don’t be-’
lieve it. I saw the sun rise over there this
very morning; and now it is away over here:
How can a thing go all that distance without
moving? If we didn’t move we should always;
be where we are now, up on this hill.”
“ But,” said the little one, “you know father
said it was the earth that moved.” x
“T know it,” said the other, “but I don’t be
lieve that, either. I am standing on the earth
now, and go are you. How can you pretend tc
think it moves when you see it does not stir!”
Said the great preacher, “These simple oner
might divide mankind between them, and carry
the banner of their parties through the world,
There never has been, and there never will be
any other division, but they that take, and they /
that will not take, their Father’s word.” ‘
What Father do you think he meant ?

* Dr. Phillips Brooks.



A ee

DAUGHTER.



A THOUGHTEUL - DAUGHTER.

a ‘RS. HASTINGS laid the baby down
# very carefully, even keeping back a
sigh of relief, lest it might waken him
It wus the third time that



Baby had a hard task on hand — that of push-
| ing four double teeth through swollen gums.

They all insisted on coming at onee, and made

his life miserable. The night had been a rest-

less one, and baby and mamma were all tired

out. A soft knock fell on the door. Mrs, Hast-
ings went on tiptoe and opened it. Bridget
sic al there, her broad face looking troubled.
Shi motioned her mistress into the hall.

“ “lout its growing late, and Mr. Fred has
brought company home to dinner, and they are
ae on the train, so he says he must be ready
oi. the minute; and the table isn’t set, and
there’s nothing ready for dessert, and I’m that
fed that I had to come for help, though I



Sa ree re mee

tried my best not to.”
Mrs. Hastings gave the faithful girl a sympa-
alee smile for her thoughtfulness, then said :

' Where is Carrie, Bridget? J thought she
wais to set the table and see to the dessert.”

.“) Miss Carrie is out, ma’ain. She said she
‘would get back in time, if she possibly could,
‘built it is growing late. I think I’d have man-
aged it if company hadn’t come, but Pm afraid
they will miss their train, you see.”

Tl come, Bridget, right away.”

_ Mrs. Hastings returned to tuck the covers
| more car efully about Baby, laid back into place

thy pillow she had arranged for taking a little

rest, while he slept, then made all haste to the

dis ‘Aing-room. Sure enough, it was Inte. She
would have to be brisk indeed if her son’s

‘fr jends did not miss their train. The dishes

;wert on rapidly. ;

{ '« Where is the cream pitcher, Bridget?” she

asked, making the journey to the kitchen for

that purpose. “I can’t find it in the china

{close tee)

: “Miss Carrie took it, ma’am, to put a calla

lily jin last night. She said it was the only

thingy j in the house that was just the right shape,
cand, she would have it ready by dinner time.

ee

#
[
{

i

b

Pll run up-stairs and get it, ma’am. She took
the lily away with her this morning.”

“No,” said Mrs. Hastings. “It will not do
to leave your oven without watching just now.
Pll go myself.” So she toiled up-stairs for the
pitcher, washed and arranged it, then opened
the sugar bowl. It was empty. Keeping the
sugar bowls and salt cellars in order was part of
Carrie’s work. To the store-room for sugar,
then to the kitchen for water with which to
cleanse the salt cellars, which were found to be
in confusion. Now she was ready for the bread
knife. It was notin its place. She spent some
precious minutes in looking for it, then applied
to Bridget.

“QO ma’am! Miss Carrie had it in her room
cutting a bit of vine. She said it was the only
knife that was sharp enough, and she forgot to
bring it back.”

Up-stairs once more for the bread knife, a
search for it under piles of paper and piles of
clean clothes not yet put away; then to the
kitchen to wash it, and Mrs. Hastings glanced
nervously at the clock. “TI shall not be able to
make anything for dessert at this hour,” she
said. “We shall have to depend on fruit.
What were you planning for, Bridget?”

“Why, Miss Carrie said she would make a
lemon custard, ma’am, and I thought she had
till I went to the closet to look for it, and found
the lemons not cut.”

Mrs. Hastings sighed. “We must depend
on apples and raisins,” she said. “ Where are
the raisins Carrie got yesterday ?”

“She did not get any, ma’am. They had
none of the right kind at Moore’s, and she was
going to stop on her way back, at Jones’, and
forgot it.”

“Then it is apples and nothing else. I won-
der what Carrie did not forget. There are no
clean napkins in the drawer, Bridget. What
does that mean ?”

Bridget really looked embarrassed. “ They
haven’t been put away yet, ma’am. You'll

find them on the ironing shelves.”

With a delicacy that Carrie ought to have
appreciated, she kept herself from saying, “ Miss
Carrie forgot to attend to them; and as you
told me, ma’am, not to do it, there was nothing
to be done but let them lie there in the dust.”



THE

BOY WHO HELPED.





All of this Mrs. Hastings knew without being
told. But I have only given you a hint of the
trials that met that tired mother.

Meantime Carrie, in a very becoming winter
hat, with the collar of her sealskin sack drawn
up about her ears, braving the December snow-
storm in a very business-like way, dodged into
stores and shops, and out again, in a flutter of
haste and excitement. :

Just as the very last step needed for the
dimer was taken, the hall door opened with a
rush and the flushed cheeks and shining eyes
of the young girl appeared in the hall, as Mr
JJastings came from the other direction.

“Such atime as I have had, papa!” whispered
Carrie confidentially, as he drew off his over-
coat. “Tye been everywhere in search of
something for mamma’s Christmas present. I
had an idea at the last minute — something that
would make it so pretty —and I started out in
the midst of this snowstorm to look for it. I
thought I would have to give it up, but at last
I found it in a little old store on Dey Street.”

The dining-room door was opened suddenly.

“Mr, Hastings, it will be necessary for you
to come to dinner immediately,” said his wife.
“Fred has company who are to go on the train,
and it is late. Don’t wait for me. I had to
leave the baby and come down to do Carrie’s
work, and he has wakened again and is erying.”
Saying which, she ran up-stairs.

Carrie gave her mother a reproachful ¢lance,
and her father a meaning look. As for the
father, he had not been in the kitchen for the
last hour, and knew nothing about thémother’s
unnecessary steps. So he said, “ Never mind,
daughter; mamma does not know what impor-
tant secrets took you away. She will know all
about it to-morrow.” But she didw’t.

Christmas morning came, and in the Hast-
ings house there was a very quict family. Carrie
presided at the breakfast table, and was pale
and grave. What eating Mr. Hastings did
was disposed of rapidly, and he hurried back
to his wife’s room.

“Utterly worn out,” the doctor had said
when he came down-stairs a little while before.
“ Nervous prostration we must call it, for want
of a better name. Nervous wear-out it ought
to be called. She was on her feet all day yes-

terday, the girl told me, after being broken of
her rest all night. That was the last straw,
probably, and it broke her. O yes! we hone
she will rally, but I don’t know how soon.
These sudden breaks are dangerous things.”
Myra Sparrorp.

THE BOY WHO WELPED.

ERY busy times had there been at Mr.
Parker’s all the week, sweeping, washing”



*E3 the usual time of year for that clea, ‘ing.

until late this year, on purpose, on account of
the wedding. 1
“Since we must clean house any way,’ "Ishe
said, “we may as well delay, and have the house-
in all its freshness for Marie.
doesn’t come every year.
be turned aside from our usual ways a little.’

A wedding

But they had been more than “a little”

turned aside.
must be finished at just such a date.
no use for the carpet men to send word that
they could not possibly come to-day or to-racr-

Having begun the busines: it

row, but would be sure to be on hand byight,

and early Thursday. Bless their dear hesrts !
Thursday was the day of the wedding. Dic
any one suppose that a carpet in the hduse

could wait until that day before it went down ee

This belated carpet was a very important émey,
too ; it was for the library, and had been selected

new by the pretty bride herself to match He
wall paper and the lovely new table scale

Certainly that must be laid, whatever else jvas

left undone. , (
A half-frantic man rushed from one end of

the town to the other in search of a carpet)
man or men, but none was to be found to ra

at just the right time. i

“One would think there was to be a werk--

ding in every house,” the mistress saiil ine
despair, “everybody is so busy. Mr. Parker,
what are we to do?” {

Then did Mr. Parker take off his coat and:
declare there was no help for it; he must put
the carpet down himself. It was hard ‘work.
He was used to managing law-suits and giving:

}

windows, and what uot. It was not quite .

The truth is, Mrs. Parker had put it on

We can afford | to-

It wars of

Te ee

ce







THE

BOY WHO HELPED.





advice and attending to other people’s business
for them in many ways, but this did not help
him a bit when he came to stitching and match-
ing carpets. Some of the tacks went down in
the wrong place and had to come up again, and
did not want to. The tack hammer broke just
when it should have done its best, and hurt
Mr. Parker’s finger. He tossed the hammer
down in disgust, said it was a worthless thing ;
he would have a better one than that before he
drove another tack, or his name was not Parker.
In a very few minutes he came back in triumph ;
he had found a tack-puller that was perfection.
Mrs. Parker, busy as she was, had to come from
the pantry to look at the way it worked.

“A child could use it,” said Mr. Parker,
showing it off with great pleasure. “I believe



“PAP\’S LITTLE MAN.”

Roy could take up tacks with it as well as any
Where is he? Roy, see here,” and five-
year-old Roy came bounding in,“ There,”
said Mr. Parker gleefully, “look at that,”
as the sturdy little hand under his father’s
. direction, lifted the tacks from the floor with
". ease. “I call that an invention worth making.
' Anything that saves time and strength in this
busy world, I’m interested in. ‘The Little
Giant’ they call this creature, and he is well-
named. He does without effort what I have
bothered over for five minutes atatime. Just
watcii how easily it is done.”

Roy watched, too, while the line of crooked

one.

tacks in front of the bay window was drawn
out swiftly and skillfully. Before the tacking
commenced again, Roy was off. He had left
a playmate when he was called, and as soon as
possible ran back to her. More than an hour
afterward the playmate had gone. Roy, left
alone, thought of the new tack-puller and how
nicely that tack came up that his father let him
pull. He thought it must he pleasant work.
He would like to do more of it. He ran to
the library, but it was deserted. My. Parker
had finished his task and the new carpet was
ready for the wedding. It looked firm and
smooth. Though Mr. Parker was not a carpet-
layer by profession, he was one of those who
could do well whatever he undertook. Roy,
as he stood and looked at the rows of tacks,
had a great thought come into his wise brain.
It occurred to him that he might do something
to help his busy papa.

“JT am so relieved to think that carpet is
down,” said Mrs. Parker to the bride-elect that
afternoon. “I was really afraid we should have
to close the library on the ocension, and that

“would have been too bad after buying a carpet

just to please you. But your father has done
it beautifully; a professional could not have
made it look better. Have you been in to see
it, Marie?”

No; Marie had been so busy; but she would
go this minute. “ Poor papa!” she said on the
way there, “itis too bad that he had to do
such work with all the rest he must, attend to.”

“Poor papa, indeed !”
it, only she was too much astonished and dis-
mayed to say a word. Both Indies seemed to
have lost their power of doing anything but
staring, first at the floor, then at each other.
The pretty carpet that had-been so firmly fast-
ened to the floor, lay in loose rolls over the
room ; not a tack left in it! :

“J did it all myself,” satd Roy, bursting in
upon them. “TJ did it every bit myself; I and
the Little Giant. Won’t papa be pleased?”

“What will his father say?” was all the
troubled mother could find voice for; and, as
if to answer her, the father appenred in the
doorway at that moment, took in the situation
at a glance—the dismayed ladics, the loose
carpet, the rows of tacks along the floor, the

She might well say

its

&





CIRCUMSTANCES ALTER CASES.



radiant boy. IJTe thought of the hard night’s
work before him to stretch that carpet again
and get it ready for the wedding next day.
Only a moment he stood watching the surprised,
grieved look which was gradually coming over
the face of the little boy. Then he stooped
and lifted him in his arms, kissed his flushed
checks once, twice, three times, and said,
“Papi's little man! he thought he was helping
papa; itis worth all the work to have a boy
who tries to help.”

“Pye always admired papa,” said’ the bride,
telling the story over again to the man who



CIRCUMSTANCES ALTER CASES.

BS icing hat uae ;
Gi RIS PMAS-DAY though it was, a very
els gloomy-faced little girl stood on the

fi bank of the river and watched the
scene on the ice. The girl’s name was
Sara Mason. She lived in one of the
small houses on a back street, near the river.
There were father, mother, Sara and the baby
in the little house. It was so very little that it
seemed to Sara that they would never find a
place for all the things, though she knew that
they had but few things. It was only two






THE GAY GROUP ON THE Ick,

was to be her husband. “I have always
thought him one of the grandest men in the

world, but I don’t believe he will ever be-

grander in my estimation than he was when he
controlled himself and kissed Roy for undoing
his half-day of hard work.” Pansy.

weeks since they had moved to this town from
a larger and pleasanter house; and being gloomy
and sad over many things which had lately
happened to them, Sara felt homesick and lone-
some.

“Some folks have all the nice things there







ee aca PPE pre cee

CIRCUMSTANCES ALTER CASES.

are in the world, and others must go without.”

She was talking to herself as she looked at
the gay group on the ice, watching them with
such a sullen look on her face that, had they

_been near enough to see it, they might almost

have been frightened. “Just look at that
proud thing sitting there in her sleigh holding
a puppy. I should think such a great girl as
she is would be ashamed to go out riding with
a puppy in her arms. My, my! did I ever see
such a sleigh? Jt is made on purpose for the
ice. I do believe it is lined all over with plush.
I never saw anything so pretty in my life! just
see how it slips along; and my lady looks as
pretty as a queen. She never has trudged
through the snow to the grocery, T’ll be bound.
Those are silly-looking boys drawing her; I
shouldn’t like to have my brothers —if I had

any—rigged up like that. They make me

_think of the boys who rode the ponies the day

when the circus went by; but I suppose that’s
the way grand folks dress. That’s what they
call skating suits, I guess. I wonder what my
lady would say to having baked potatoes and
bread and butter for a Christmas dinner, and
not another thing. J suppose she had turkey
and cranberry sauce and oyster pie, maybe, and
no end of things. It is just as I said: some
folks have all the good things in this world. I
don’t see why I couldn’t have some as well as
such a proud-looking girl as that; she has fur
all over her and a plume on her new hat as long
asmy arm. How would she like to wear an old
hat, I wonder, and a sacque too short and too
narrow and too everything? I s’pose she lives
in one of those grand houses over there, and I

8’ pose she had candies and nuts in her stockings,

and all sorts of beautiful presents, and T had
just an apple. She’s coming this way, I do be-
lieve; she’s going to stop her sleigh and look
at me! She needn’t. I most believe Pll make
a face at her, if she does. I’m as good as she
is, any day, if I can’t prink up in fine clothes
and ride out in a grand plush sleigh, painted
blue-and-gold color.”

“Merry Christmas!” said a clear, pleasant
voice from the sleigh as it drew close to the
shore. “ Will you have a Christmas package ?
T am giving one toeach of my friends. I guess
you are my friend, aren’t you?”

“T don’t know,” said Sara. She thought
afterwards what a rude answer it was to make;
but just then it seemed to be the only one she
could think of.

“Oh! I guess you are; you must be about my
age. All the girls who live here are my friends.
Do you live near this place?”

“T live on Day Street,” said Sara briefly and
coldly.

“Oh! do you? I wondered who lived in
that little red house next to the corner, and I
hoped we’d be good friends. TP’m all alone at
our house; the only girl, you know; and I do
get very lonely sometimes. You will have one
of my Christmas packages, won’t you? Robbie,
hand her this, please.”

It was a large white stocking, made of the
material called milinet. Through its openings
Sara could see the gleam of candies in all sorts
of curious shapes. The sweet voice from the
sleigh went on: —

“This is one of my ways of having a good
time on Christmas. The boys take me out rid-
ing, and stop along shore for me to greet my
friends. Have you brothers and sisters to play
with ?”

“There’s only the baby and me,” said Sara,
speaking a little more politely, and accepting
the white stoeking with a “ Thank you!” won-
dering at the same time whether she ought to
take it, and what else she ought to say.

“Oh! have you a baby at your house? I
wonder if you won’t bring it to see me some-

time. I do love a baby so much. I have only
this dog. Will you bring your baby to call on
me?”.

“ Perhaps your mother wouldn’t want me to,”
said Sara, determined to take no advantage of
all these kindnesses, and be as dignified as she
could.

A sad look flitted over the face of the child
in the sleigh, but her voice was still sweet:
“My mother has gone to Heaven, and my
father, too; but I live with my auntie, and I
know she will be glad to see the baby. She
always welcomes my friends.”

“ Poor little girl without father or mother or
baby; nothing but a dog!” This was the
thought in Sara’s heart, but she did not put it
into words.



GRANDMA’S MISTAKE.



It now occurred to her that it would be polite
to ask the little girl to come and see her, though
she didn’t believe she would want to come to
such a little house as theirs. “If she doesn’t,”
said Sara, hardening her heart again, “Tl not
go near her.”

«“ You might come to our house and see the
baby sometime; it is only a little walk from
where you live, if you live in that big house
over there.” She pointed to one of the grand
river fronts where she strongly suspected the
whole party belonged. The little girl shook
her head. “I live there,” she said, “but it is
too long a walk for me. I might ride there
sometimes, if the coachman can turn down that
street; I can’t walk.”

“ Why not?” Sara’s voice was hard, and she
could hardly keep her lip from curling.. What
a little goosie, to talk of riding a dozen steps.

“T never walked a step in my life. Some-
thing’s the matter with my back, and my feet
have to be lazy all the time; they are good-for-
nothing things; just for ornament.”

Her face was bright again, and she finished
her sentence with a queer little laugh. Sara
could not Inugh. Tears came into her eyes
and rolled down her face. It seemed to her

she had never heard of anything so hard in her ~

life; but all she said was, “O dear!”

The nodding plume leaned quite over the
side of the sleigh. “You are sorry for me,
aren’t you?” said the gentle voice. “Thank
you; but I don’t mind it so very much. I have
a great many things to be glad over.”

“To think that I should have envied her,”
said Sara, speeding home after she had promiscd
to ask her mother to let the baby come on the
first bright day and make a call on her new
friend —“ to think that I should have envied
her, and she has no mother or father or baby
brother; and she never walked a step in her
life! O dear me!”

The strong little feet carried their owner
swiftly through the snow up the path to the
little house; and Mrs. Mason received such a
hugging and kissing as she had not had for
many a day.

“Seems to me you have come home in a
happier mood than you went out,” she said
when she had a chance to speak again.

eee eee

“ Mother, PM never be unhappy and grumbly
again, never, mother. Just think of a little
girl who has not any folks, only aunts and
cousins and such things, and who has never
walked a step in her life! O dear! O dear!
Where’s the baby? Seems as if I wanted to
smother him with kisses. . Catch me grumbling
again!”

But I’m afraid she will the very next time
things don’t exactly suit her. People forget,
you know. Pansy.

GRANDMA’S MISTAKE.

OOR Grandma! IJ do hate to tell her,
And yet it does seem very queer ;

She’s lived so much longer than I have,

And I— why, I’ve known it a year!
Even Alice begins to look doubtful,

And she is so babyish, too,
And mamma slyly laughs at the nonsense,

But Grandma believes it is true.

“T did it all up in brown paper,
And Jaid it just there by her plate;
She put on her glasses so slowly,
I thought that I never could wait.
But when she had opened the bundle,
‘ My patience!’ she said, ‘how complete!
A dear little box for my knitting —
Now isn’t old Santa Claus sweet ?

«¢To think that the funny old fellow
Should notice I needed just this ;

If he should come in here this morning,
I think I should give him a kiss!’

She never once looked at me, never;
Of course [ had nothing to say,

But I was so mortified, truly,
T just had to run right away.

“Poor Grandma! I do-hate to tell her!
But some day, of course, she’ll find out;
And then she will laugh to remember
What once she was puzzled about.
But as for that beautiful work-box,
She laid with such care on the shelf,
How can she think Santa Claus brought it?
I made the thing for her myself.”
— Selected.





KITTY AND HER TINY PARASOL.









HER MOTHERS BIBLE.
By Pansy.

INCLINE MY HEART UNTO THY TESTIMONIES AND NOT TO
COVETOUSNESS.

Trus? IN DO Goo; SO SHALT THOU
PDWELL IN THE LAND, AND VEUILY THOU SHALT BE FED,

BEAR YE ONE ANOTHER’S BURDENS AND SO FULFILL THE

THE Lorp AND

LAW OF CHKIST.
Tir Loup our Gop WILL WE SERVE, AND HIS VOICE
WILL WE OBEY.

Ver said Mrs. Selmser, fingering the
leaves of the large old Bible with loving
touch, “it is all I got; no, I wasi’t disappointed,
because T didn’t expect anything. Maria was
the youngest child, and mother has lived with
her so inany years it stood to reason that she
would leave everything to her. To be sure, as
Reuben says, Maria has enough, and more than
enough, while we find it pretty hard work to
mike the two ends meet; but then, mother
didn’t sense that; she was old, you see, and
didw’t think much about money matters, any-
how; and she had no great to leave, I suppose;
she has always paid her way at Maria’s. Those
children were great pets of hers, of course, be-
ing with them ever since they were born; she
didn’t know our children much. Mother wasn’t
able to travel for a number of years before she
died, and we could never afford to take the
children to see her; so it was all natural enough,
and I’m not a mite disappointed, though I can
see that Reuben is, just a little; that’s natural,
But Pve got the old Bible, and Td rather
have it this minute than anything mother had
to leave. You see it is the one she used regu-
larly for years and years, and it is all marked
up with her verses. You can’t hardly turn a
page but you will come across a verse marked
in red ink, or blue ink, or green ink; mother
was a great hand to mark her Bible, and so was
father. It makes the verses kind of stand out,
you know, so you are obliged to think about
them, even if you are in a hurry; and it kind
of seems to help you get the sense of them; I
don’t know why, ’m sure; Maria didn’t think
so. She never liked to see a Bible marked up ;
she said it Qidn’t look neat.
“T suppose that was why mother gave the

too.

WER MOTHER’S BIBLE.



message to me that she did. Said she, ‘ Jane,
Tm going to leave my big old Bible to you and
your children; I have a feeling that it will help
you more than it will Maria or John” Some
way it did me good to have mother say that,
and know that she had thought about it and
planned to leave her Bible to us; and I’m right
glad to get hold of it. I tell the children I
hope they will learn every one of the marked
verses this year, and store them up; because
their grandmother never marked verses at ran-
dom, as you may say; she picked them out to
live by.”

All the while she talked, Mrs. Selmser kept
up that tender little almost caressing touch of
the worn Bible, and as she turned its leaves and
one caught elimpses of the marked verses, it
gave the impression that the grandmother had
lived on a great many.

“Yes,” said Mrs. Selmser, smiling fondly,
when her attention was called to this, “my boy
Ralph says, ‘Why, mother, if we undertake to
learn all of Grandmother's verses, we might ag
well learn the whole Bible and be done with it.’
And I tell them I don’t know as. they could
learn anything that would make them wiser.”

Miss Edwards, her caller, reached for the
Bible and turned the leaves with careful fingers
and paused over some of the marked verses
with interested face.

“Trust in the Lord and do good; so shalt
thou dwell in the Jand and verily thou shalt be
” read Miss Edwards. “That is heavily
marked.”

“Yes; and I make no doubt there was a story
belonging to it if I only knew it. If you look
close you will see father’s initials in the corner,
and the letters T. P. made very small. You
know about the old lady who marked her Bible
all over with T. P.’s, don’t you? Why, she
meant tried and proved. That story made a
great impression on father, I know, and he used
to mark some verses that way; so did mother.
I know some of the stories. J only wish I knew
all of them.”

“JT only wish they would come true to us, as
well as to grandfather and grandmother,” said
young Ralph in a doleful tone as he leaned over
his mother’s shoulder and looked at the heavily
marked verse.

fed,









A em heh

-lots of gravy.

HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.

“Ralph,” said his mother reproachfully, while
the visitor regarded him with a questioning
smile, “have you tested it?” she asked. But
Ralph, blushing much, had no reply to make.

* Do you know what a hard time the Smiths
are having?” said Mrs. Selmser, closing the
Bible, as one who had turned to entirely another
subject. “Ralph here, found out by accident
that they were actually hungry — those children,
you know. Doesn’t that seem hard? I declare,
when I heard how poor little Mamie snatched
after a bit of bread, it made the tears come.”

Miss Edwards had not heard about them;
she asked many questions, and said that directly
after Thanksgiving she would go and see them.
Then she went away. No sooner was she out
of hearing than Mrs. Selmser had something to
say. ‘I was sorry you spoke in that way about
the verse, Ralph; if Miss Edwards should ever
hear anything about that chicken, she would
think you didn’t want them to have it.”

“She won’t ever hear about it,” said Ralph ;
“and besides, you know I said all the time that
those chickens were dreadful little to make one
do for a big family like ours; Thanksgiving
Day, too.”

“Yes, but, Ralph, you know the Smiths had
nothing at all for dinner, and one chicken is
better than nothing, i8w’t it?”

“We might have sent them something clse,”
Ralph said slowly. It had evidently been hard
work for him to give up that chicken.

“But we hadn't anything else, my boy, that
we could spare, that would have been a kind of
a treat to the Smiths. Don’t you really think,
on the whole, that we did the best we could?”

Ralph gave a little sigh, then looked at his
mother and laughed.

“Ts all right, mother,” he said, “only you
see I had kind of set my heart on our having
those two chickens on Thanksgiving Day all to
ourselves ; most folks have turkeys, you know,
but I told myself I would be contented with
chickens, if we could have two of them, and
It isn’t for the eating either,
that I care so much, it is just because I wanted
to be like other folks, you know.”

“T understand,” the mother said cheerily,
“and you wanted the Smiths to have a good
dinner, too; I know that just as well as though

I could Jook right into your heart. You
wouldu’t lave had them miss of that chicken
for anything, now would you?”

Ralph laughed again, and said he didn’t know
as he should, and went away whistling. As
for Miss Edwards, no sooner was she out of the
house, than for some reason she changed her
mind, and went at once to call on the Smiths.

Here she heard wonderful stories; they had
been in trouble, but they believed their darkest
day had passed, thanks to their neighbors. Mrs.
Smith constantly wiped away the tears as she
told of the many thoughtful kindnesses of Mrs.
Selmser and her family. “And they are poor
themselves,” said Mrs. Smith; “I dare say
they have scrimped themselves a good deal to
help us all they have.”

Miss Edwards did not doubt this, for she
knew a good deal about the Sclmsers. Their
crowning act of kindness, if Mrs. Smith is to
be depended upon, was that chicken. Such a
wonderful story as she heard about it! How
it, with its companion, had been the special
property of Ralph Selmser, the sole survivors
of a brood of seven, all the others having come
to ericf; how Ralph had confided to her boy
Peter that he was raising those chickens for
their Thanksgiving dinner, and how he and his
mother were going to give the father a surprise;
and then to think that they should be willing
to change all their plans, and get along with
only one chicken for themselves, was almost too
much, Mrs. Smith thought. “It isn’t as though
they had plenty to give,” she said, wiping her
eyes, “but they have been ready to divide their
little with the widow and fatherless; I hope
the Lord will make it up to them.”

Mrs. Smith had still more reason for gratitude
before that call was concluded, but it is not
about her that I want to tell you at present.

I want you to think of Ralph Selinser as
looking out of the window on the morning be-
fore Thanksgiving, when little Tim Potter, who
was everybody’s errand boy, appeared in sight,
holding on with both hands to the largest tur-
key Ralph had ever seen.

To his great surprise, Tim opened their side
gate, and squeezed himself and the turkey
through it. He rushed to the kitchen door to
see what was wanted, and the turkey was laid



HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.

at his feet in silence, and Tim was off like the good; so shalt thou dwell in the land, and
wind, verily thou shalt be fed.”

A note was found pinned to the turkey’s leg, While the others all talked at once, wonder-
but when it was examined it said only this: ing how, and why, Ralph stood back with folved
“For Ralph Selmser to give his father and arms, and looked at the turkey.
mother a Thanksgiving dinner.’ And below “Tt is Grandmother’s Bible that did it,” he
it, these words: “Trust in the Lord and do said at last.




sarong set een on

eee

LITT*.E TIM POTTER,















AN OLD-TIME SCENE.



a





WONDERS OF MAN.—THE

“BIFFEL TOWER.”



WONDERS OF MAN.

eee at home by familiarity cease

to excite astonishment; and thence it
happens that many know but little about the
“house we live in” —the human body. We
look upon a man as we look upon a house, from
the outside, just as a whole or unit, never think-
ing of the many rooms, the curious passages,
and the internal arrangements, of the house, or
of the wonderful structure of the man—the
harmony and adaptation of all parts.

In the human skeleton, about the time of
maturity, are 165 bones. The muscles are about
500 in number. The length of the alimentary
canal is about thirty-two feet. The amount of
blood in an adult is nearly thirty pounds, or
full one fifth of the entire weight.

The heart is six inches in length and four
inches in diameter, and beats seventy times per
minute, 4,200 times per hour, 100,800 times per
day, 36,772,000 times per year, 2,565,440,000 in
threescore and ten; at each beat two and a
half ounces of blood are thrown out of it, 176
ounces per minute, 656 pounds per hour, seven
and three fourths tons per day. All the blood

in the body passes through the heart every-

three minutes.
less industry, —

The little organ by its cease-

In the allotted span
The Psalmist gave to man,

lifts the enormous weight of 300,700,200 tons.

The lungs will contain one gallon of air, at
about their usual inflation. We breathe on an
average 1,200 times per hour, inhale 600 gallons
of air, or 14,400 gallons perday. The aggregate
surface of the air-cells of the lungs exceed 20,000
square inches, an area very near equal to the
floor of a room twelve feet square.

The average weight of the brain of the adult
male is three ‘pounds and eight ounces. The
nerves are all connected with it, directly, or
through the spinal marrow. These nerves, to-
gether with their branches and minute ramifica-
tions, probably exceed 10,000,000 in number,
forming a “ body-guard ” outnumbering by far
the mightiest army ever marshalled.

The skin is composed of three layers, and
varies from one fourth to one eighth of an inch

in thickness. [ts average area in an adult is esti-
mated to be 2,000 square inches. The atmos-
pheric pressure being about fourteen pounds to
the square inch, a person of medium size is
subjected to a pressure of 40,000 pounds.

Each square inch of skin contains 3,300
sweating tubes, or perspiratory pores, each of
which may be likened to a little drain tile one
fourth of an inch long, making an aggregate
length over the entire surface of the body of
201,156 feet, or a tile ditch for draining the
body almost forty miles long.

THE “HIFFEL TOWER.”
HAT, you know, is the name of the great
tower being built in Paris, to be ready
for the Exposition there, next summer. It is
built of iron, and is to be nine hundred and
eighty-four feet high. Can you think how high
that is? The Washington Monument, which is
the highest building we have as yet, is five
hundred and fifty-five feet; but here is one
going up, that will be almost as high again.
The tower is for the purpose of lighting the
grounds where the Exposition is to be held. I
cannot decide how much light it will send out.
One writer says it will be as much as nineteen
million candles would give. But who knows
how much that would be!

How would you like to go to the top of that
tower ?

Just take a run over to Paris, next summer,
and try it, will you? You will have a chance to
ride part of the way up, on an elevator. How
far? Oh! only a matter of nine hundred and
seventy-one feet.

WISH all the boys and girls would cultivate
politeness. It means so much! Begin at
home —at your own tables. And by being
polite, I mean never do anything that will be
considered disagreeable by those with whom
you associate. An impolite boy is always an
unpromising one. A smile, a gentle word, a
very little act, has been known to make a boy’s
fortune. So, boys and girls, study politeness.
Rinewoopo.







ROB: A STORY FOR

BOYS.





ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.
By MarGaret SIpNeyY.
CHAPTER I.

we, yt HERE is that-boy?”

Ay Miss Philenalooked up. It
Vv wasn’t in nature to expect her to
hold her gaze to the blue stocking
she was laboriously heeling off,
with that voice ringing in her ears.
However, she said nothing, being used to keep-
ing her tongue between her teeth.

“Do you know?” came at last, a direct ques-
tion.

“T s’pose he hasn’t got home from the mill.”

“You s’pose. Well, if I had him here now,
he’d know better’n to VPiter over that job.
When’d he start ?”

“Oh! something more’n an hourago.” Miss
Philena leaned forward in her high-backed
rocker to get a leisurely view of the corner
clock.

“Humph!” It was more of a grunt than an
exclamation, and the speaker thrust his hard
hands into his pockets, and walked to the one
window yielding a view of the road. Beside
the thoroughfare, occasionally furnishing bits of



- pictures, constantly changing as the pedestrians

and the few people with vehicles passed, there
was not much to provide entertainment for the

‘ inmate of Joel Slocum’s home, housed on a mid-
-winter day. A few gnarled apple-trees in a
‘corner of the house-lot shook their ragged

ibranches in the wind, twisting themselves into
various distortions and affording but scanty
slielter for the score or more of hungry fowls
who fluffed out their feathers in the vain at-
tempt to keep warm under them. Now and
then a lean and ill-favored eur would diversify
matters by rushing down from the old porch to
bark and show all his teeth at them. When
they scattered in all directions, the dog would
go slowly back to throw himself down again on
the porch-floor to watch them reassemble. At
such times there would be a temporary excite-
me it within doors, and Miss Philena would
eatch herself peering out of the window for any
chance guest. But such personages rarely ap-

peared, and soon all things settled down to a
dead level again.

The house, square and roomy, had in its time
been a fine old family mansion. It would be
hard to imagine it ever briiliantly lighted at
night, or overflowing with life in the day time.
Yet such had been the case even in Joel and
Philena Sloeum’s youth. But that was long
since; and the brother and sister, the only rep-
resentatives of the family who chose to remain
in New England, had gradually withdrawn
from people, and, as a natural sequence, losing
interest in others, had at last lost enthusiasm
for their own especial life-work, and instead of
keeping the farm and homestead up to its for-
mer air of opulent content, had let the one run
down through lack of work, and had shut the
other up, one room after another, till now, the
only apartments used were the kitchen and two
bedrooms if we except a small room in the ell,
for Rob.

“That boy grows worse and worse,” growled
Joel, going to the window for the twentieth
time. “It’s because we let him have his head
so much.”

Miss Philena folded her knitting-work with
extreme deliberateness. “Yowre gettin’ ner-
vous,” she said. “We might as well have
tea,” and she proceeded to get out of her chair,
an operation always attended with difficulty,
after sitting long.

Joel regarded her with disfavor. “You
grow stiffer every day,” he observed, not mine-
ing matters.

“T s’pose I do,” she answered coolly ; “that’s
natural, I’m sure. We’re neither of us young,
brother.”

Jocl winced. Any allusion to his age always
made him testy. ‘Well, where’s that boy, I
sh’d like to know,” he repeated.

“So sh’d I,” responded his sister, “but I
ain’t going to growl and grumble over it. Why
don’t you take hold and do something to help
the time along? You might set the table for
once.”

“That’s woman’s work,” said Joel disdain-
fully.

“S’posin’ ’tis,” said Miss Philena, “‘it’s bet-
ter’n no work, in my opinion.” With that she
disappeared in the buttery.



AMBER.





Somebody, whistling along the road, now
drew Joel’s attention, and he peered eagerly
through the gathering darkness to catch sight
of the figure Hale ancing toward the house. A
boy presently turned in between the tall granite
olden time there had been a
merriest

posts where in
gateway, and whistling away at the
of tunes, leaped over the old porch, and threw
open the door, showing a ruddy face, and clear
blue eyes.

“ Talloo!” said Joel, hurrying forward from
the window, “where have you been this long
time, Rob?”

“To the mill,” said the boy.
sent me down Masts with the corn,
shut up. Mr. Griggs is sick.”

“Sick! Griges sick?” cried Joel with inter-

est. “What's the matter? ”
“JT dom’t know. J asked ’em over

“ Aunt Philena
but it’s

at the
house, and they didn’t any of ’em know. Te
had a chill this morning, they said, and he
coughs. That’s all they told me, anyway. Is
supper ready?” turning his hungry young eyes
around for the usual preparations for that meal.

“No, ’tisn’t,” said his uncle shortly; “and
*twon’t be for you,in a good while. Where’s
your bag of corn?”

“T left it at the mill,” said Rob.

“JT thought you said the mill was shut up,”
gaid Joel sharply.

“So it was. But I know where there’s a
hole in the buck shed, so I slipped the corn-bag
in there, instead of carrying it home. And to-
morrow I can run down and see if the mill is
going again. Likely enough somebody’ll run
it, if Mr. Griggs can’t.”

“You're likely enough with your opinions,”
snarled Joel; “fora
you have

» boy of fourteen, I must say
about as many as I ever see. You'd
no right to leave that bag without leave, over
to Grigeses.”

The boy made no reply to this. Ile was
well accustomed to blame; a little more or less
made small difference, and he now busied him-
self in speculations of the liveliest sort as to the
probable time of the supper, the preparations
for which his practiced ear told him were well
under way, judging from various sounds ema-
nating from the buttery: At last Aunt Philena
appeared, bearing in one hand the wooden

bread plate with its usual supply of carefully
trimmed slices, and in the other the remains of
a cold meat pie.

“You home, Rob?” she remarked, by way of
welcome, as she set these down on the table.
“There, pull this out, and lay the cloth.”

“TTe’s left. the bag o’ corn over to Griggses,”
complained her brother. “Now what’ll you
do, pray tell, for your meal?”

“Left the bag of corn over to Griggses,” re-
peated Miss Philena. So the explanation had
to be gone over again. All this while Rob was
setting the table briskly, and trying hard not
to catch whiffs of the pie, it made him so very
impatient to have a taste of it.

Aunt Philena said nothing. It wasn’t her
way when irritated, but at last seated herself
at the head of the rather scanty board.

“Come, Joel,” she said, “supper’s ready.
Do hurry, so that we can get through and the
dishes can be done up. Get into your place,
Rob.”

“Rob isn’t coming to supper,” declared his
uncle, hurrying over to drop into his chair op-
posite his sister. “A boy who can beso long
over an errand like that, and then, to cap all,
can leave a bag o’ corn that’s intrusted to him,
out of his hand, ain’t fit to set by to supper
with us. Go to bed, Rob!” IIe turned to
lim sharply. “Tere, light your candle, and get
along off with you.”

AMBER. ‘
Mf
? HE only place in which amber has peed
found in paying quantities is in thre
Baltic Sea, and the vein extends froin
Western Russia to Denmark, Norwety
and Sweden. In former years the pro-
duction of amber depended principally upon
the storms occurring in the winter time, for
when the sea was convulsed, the amber lying
on the bottom was thrown up on the shore;
but human enterprise stimulated by the dem: ind
for the article has changed all this, and for the
last twenty-five years various engineering ar li.
ances have been used for getting out the am ber
in the quickest and cheapest way.
The most profitable strata have been found







4

ae

ns

ope



AMBER.







=—

in the Courischer Haaf, which is located in the bringing up the sand and what amber there
vicinity of Memel, and there are twenty large may be in it. This is emptied on the deck of
dredging-boats constantly at work day and the ship, and there it is washed, and the amber
picked out from
among the sand
and stone.

The little vil-.
lage where ‘this
industry is car-
ried on is called
Schwartzort. It
is situated on a
narrow strip of
land that extends
about ten miles
beyond the main-
land, and is per-
haps a mile wide
at its widest part.
At one time this
strip of land was
covered with a
forest, but the
wood was sold off
by a Prussian king
in the beginning
of this century to
the Russians.
The land has be-
come barren since
stripped of its
sheltering forest,
and now it is
nothing but a
sandy waste; aud,
were it not for
the amber indus-
try, this beautiful
peninsula would
be desolate.
About ninety
miles further
west is another
little village,
called Palmnick-

} A DIVING SUIT, : en, and here the

; . amber is obtained
aight for eight months in the year. There are in an entirely different manner. The most ap-
lanye strings of iron pails that are constantly proved diving apparatus is used, and the divers
deagging along the bottom of the sea, and go out in row-boats, each of which is fitted



































KITTIE’S PLAID SHAWL.

ae
with an air-pump. They go down into the sea,
where some of them remain as long as four or
five hours. Each diver has a little bag around
his neck, and a peculiar hook, with which he
pulls up sand, and every piece of amber that
he finds is thrown into his bag. An encourage-
ment to the diver is that if he finds a piece of
amber he is entitled to a prize of ten, twenty-
five, or fifty cents, according to the size.

While the divers are below in the sea, en-
gaged in hunting for the amber, the miners are
just as busy on land, for it seems that the same
stratum of the green sand runs, perhaps for
thirty miles or more, into the land. The open-
ine of the mine is perhaps a thousand feet from
the shore, and it is necessary to go down about
one hundred and fifty feet, which is some thirty
or forty feet below the level of the sea. To
keep the mine as dry as possible, there are sev-
eral pumps working day and night; and to pre-
vent the earth from falling in, the passages are
propped up by logs of wood. There are about
forty miles of passageway in these mines, and
there are about seven hundred men employed
for the various departments. As soon as a pas-
sageway is opened, a track is laid, and on this
track there runs a little truck, which holds per-
haps half a ton of sand. The miners simply
eut out the sand and fill the truck. It is then
brought to the surface, when the entire con-
tents are thrown into a long trough filled with
rushing water, which separates the sand from
the amber, which is caught by nets of various
sizes. ‘The amber is then cleaned by machinery,
and assorted according to its quality and purity.
The writer believes himself to be the first
American who ever went down into the amber
mine.

F. R. Katpensere, in the Swiss Cross.





KITLIE’S PLAID SHAWL.



gi ITTIE LEE, look how faded and
(2. small your cloak is! You have grown
224% too big for it.” And Jessie Scott took
up the childish hand that hung beside her own,
as they walked home from school. “See how
far your dress sleeve comes down below your
sack. It is too short for you. Why don’t you

=

ask your mamma to buy you a plaid shawl like
Susie’s and mine?”

“O, Jessie! My mamma says she cannot
afford to get me one,” replied Iitty with a lit-
tle sigh,

“We girls will all go and ask her, won’t
we?” said Jessie, turning to a merry group of
children, on their way home together.

“JT am afraid she will feel bad to have you
ask her,” ventured Kitty, “for I know she
would get me one if she could.”

“Oh! she won’t feel bad, Kitty; perhaps
she does not know how much you want it. |
Will she be home from school now ?”

“T guess so.”



KITTIE AFTER THE PLAID SHAWL ARRIVED,

A merry group of little girls from five to ten
years old trooped into Mrs. Lee’s cosey sitting-
room, and found her just laying aside her hat
and cloak.

“O, Mrs. Lee!” said Jessie, “we have come)
to ask you to buy Kittie a shawl like ours,” and.
she arranged in a row four or five attractive:
little figures in new plaid shawls. ‘ We have
got them, and they are so nice and warm that
Kitty wants one, too.” \

“No one would like better to get one than,

{





sil

8a)
tir

wi
an

Sh

80)
us,

‘ weeks he died.



KITTIE’S PLAID SHAWL.

IT would for Kitty, my dears, but just now I
cannot do it.”

“Oh! do get it, do, Mrs. Lee,” chimed in
a chorus of voices. “They don’t cost so very
much, and I don’t believe you know how much _
little girls want things sometimes.”

“Yes, my little girls, I know very well how
much Kitty wants and really needs it, but the
dear Lord has not given me the money to get
it this winter,’ answered Mrs. Lee in a sad
tone.

“Don’t tease her any more, girls, please
don’t,” said Kitty, almost ready to cry because
she had not said No at once, when her friends
proposed asking her mamma.

The little party left the house, and after
waiting until they were far enough away to be
out of hearing Jessie said, “I do think it is
mean Kitty can’t have anything she wants since
her papa died.”

“No, girls, Mrs. Lee is not mean,” said a
bright, blue-eyed, flaxen-haired little one. “My
papa says Mrs. Lee is very poor now, and I am
sure she is a lovely teacher, and Kitty loves her
mamma dearly. Everybody does not have all
the money they want.”

Mr. Lee had been a professor in the academy
at the city of M ,and with his wife and lit-
ile daughter was very happy in their pleasant
nome, But overwork and fatigue one summer
fuid him low with fever. And after a few
He was young, and looking
\ forward to a long life, like many others, death
‘overtook him, without making any provision
ifor his family. Poor Mrs. Lee was for a time
£0 prostrated with grief at her terrible loss, that
the could not make any effort to help herself.
h position as primary teacher was offered her,
and gladly accepted. Kitty was now six years
old, and as only little more than a year had
passed since her father’s death, there were many
sore ways for money than Mrs. Lee could meet.

It was bed-time and little Kitty came to her
mamma to say her evening prayer. Clasping
her arms about her neck she asked, “ Mamma,
would it be wrong to ask God to give me a
peal shawl ? ”

“Certainly it would not, my darling,” and
slic pressed a loving kiss upon the sweet face so
close to her own.



So the innocent child knelt beside her mam-
ma and in simple faith asked the dear Lord to
bless them, and added, “Please, God, all the
money and all the things in the world are yours!
please send me a plaid shawl! Please do, dear
Jesus! I want it so much.”

Kittie’s head was laid on her pillow that
night with a trusting faith that her wants
would be supplied by that Hand who was so
well able to do it.

Next day, although Kittie watched for her
answer it did not come, so at evening time her
little prayer was repeated with the same faith
and trust. Several days passed in this way.
Each night Kittie’s petition was not forgotten :
“ Please, dear Jesus, send me a plaid shawl.”

About a week after, as the child was ready
for bed, she looked into her mamma’s face, say-
ing, “Mamma, God always hears our prayers,
doesn’t he?”

“Te always hears, my darling, but He does
not always answer as we expect He will. Some-
times He thinks it is not best for us to have
what we ask Him for, and so [He gives something
that He knows is better for us. We cannot
always know what is best for us. But Ife
knows, and He always hears, and He has prom-
ised to answer our prayers in his own way.”

“Well, mamma, Iam going to keep on ask-
ing Him. Maybe He is too busy to listen, but
a bright angel might run and tell Him to hear,
for a little girl is praying. Iam sure He will
answer me, mamma.”

So the childish voice pleaded: “ Dear Jesus,
love mamma and me! Make mea good girl,
and bring me a plaid shawl so that I can say
Jesus gave it to me.”

Next morning before they started for school
a gentleman called at the door, and saying with
a cheery voice, “Good-morning, Mrs. Lee,”
handed her a package. “I was buying a shawl
for my little daughter, and thinking Kittie
might like one, I bought one for her, too.”

Mrs. Lee, with tears in her eyes, told him the
story of the childish faith and prayer, adding,
“<¢Tnasmuch ag ye have done it unto one of the
least of these my children, ye have done it unto
me.’ May God bless you for it.”

He went away, leaving such joy and thanks-
giving and praise to the dear Jesus who had



JAPANESE COURTESY.—“FINISH IT.”



heard and answered prayer, as they could hardly
find words in their full hearts to express.
“But,” said Ixittie, “Mr, Smith is not God.”
“No, darling, but God put the thought of you
into his heart, and through him the dear Lord
has answered your prayer for the plaid shaw.”
What a happy Thanksgiving was theirs !
Mary Wooprvurr.

CONTEMPORARY gives the following

in regard to Japanese courtesy: “ When
a couple of Japanese acquaintances encounter
each other in the street —no matter whether
high or low, male or female, old or young —
they stand with their feet somewhat apart and
bow repeatedly while rubbing their bended
knees with their hands, drawing in their breath
as they rise, and closing their lips with a sud-
den gasp as they flop down again. The con-
versation opens with a sigh and a dry cough:
‘Schibaraku o me ni kakarimasen,’ 7. ¢., ‘It is
along time since J hung upon your eyes. I
have not seen you this long while.” Reply:
Deep sigh with a short cough, 7. ¢., ‘ Yes, alas!
alas! I have long been deprived of the pleasure
of gazing on your features.’ Q.: ‘ How is it
with your respected husband and the charming
baby?” R.: Sigh and cough as before, 7. e,
‘Best thanks for your kind inquiry; they are
both quite well.’ — ‘Since I last had the pleasure
of hanging on your eyes, you have grown much
older and also rather stouter.? R.: Sigh and
cough, 7. ¢., ‘Many thanks for the compliment,
but Iam afraid you flatter me. And so on,
ad libitum, until they part again after series of
bows. If the salutation takes place in the
house, where the cleanliness of the mats affords
fuller play to the instincts of politeness, they
kneel down, place their elbows and hands, palms
downwards, on the floor, and touch the mat
with their forehead. They remain in this atti-
tude, gently murmuring complimentary phrases,
interrupted with sighs, until one of them, feel-
ing the blood rise to his brain, cautiously lifts
his head to peep whether his vis-d-vis has
changed his position; if this is the case they
both slowly work their way upwards; but if
the other still keeps his head on the ground, the
first one quickly ducks down again so as not to
be outdone in politeness by his partner.”

“FINISH IT.”

HEN Samuel F. B. Morse, afterwards
famous as the inventor of the electric
telegraph, was a young painter studying in
London, he made a drawing from a small cast
of the Farnese Hercules, intending to offer it
to Benjamin West as an example of his work.

Being very anxious for the favorable opinion
of the master, he spent a fortnight upon the
drawing, and thought he had made it perfect.

When Mr. West saw the drawing he exam-
ined it critically, commended it in this and that
particlar, then handed it back, saying: “ Very
well, sir, very well; go on and finish it.”

“ But it ds finished,” said the young artist.

“QO no!” said Mr. West; “look here, and
here, and here,” and he put his finger upon
various unfinished places.

Mr. Morse saw the defects, now that they
were pointed out to him, and devoted another
week to remedying them. Then he carried the
drawing again to the master. Mr. West was
evidently much pleased, and lavished praises
upon the work; but at the end he handed it
back, and said, as before: “ Very well, indeed,
sir; go on, and finish it.”

“Ts it not finished?” asked Mr. Morse, by
this time all but discouraged.

“ Not yet; you have not marked that muscle,
nor the articulations of the finger-joints.”

The student once more took the drawing '
home, and spent several days in retouching it. ;
He would have it done this time. /

But the critic was not yet satisfied. The
work was good, “very good indeed; remark.
ably clever;” but it needed to be “finished.”

“JT cannot finish it,” said Mr. Morse, i
despair. ‘

“ Well,” answered Mr. West, “I have tried
you long enough. You have learned more bly
this drawing than you would have accomplished »
in double the time by a dozen half-finished
drawings. It is not numerous drawings, bit
the character of one, that makes a thorough
draughtsman. inish one picture, sir, and you
are a painter.”

It was a good lesson. One principal part of
a teacher’s business is too keep his pupil froum
being too easily satisfied. — Hachange.

!
!

i
f







|

Bre:

the

cc

son,



ea

TAS



HAPPY SONGSTERS.



HER

MOTHER’S BIBLE.





HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.
By Pansy.

TAKE HEED, BRETHREN, LEST THERE BE IN ANY OF YOU
AN EVIL HEART OF UNBELIEF IN DEPARTING FROM THE
LIVING Gop.

Nor bY MIGHT, NOR BY POWER, BUT BY MY SPIRIT SAITIT
tHE LORD OF HOSTS.

GREAT MEN ARE NOT ALWAYS WISE,

THY PEOPLE SHALL BE MY PEOPLE.

Gon.

AND THY GOD MY

HE winter set in very gloomily. Ralph,
leaning over the kitchen table, listening
to his mother while she talked with Mr. Brew-
ster, thought there had never seemed a darker,
and could not help thinking privately that his
mother was a little, just a little, foolish. Oh!
of course he did not put it in those words, even
to himself, but that was what the thought
meant, all the same.

This was the way matters stood. Mr. Selmser
was out of work, and had been for some time
away from home looking for a chance to earn
his living; that very morning had come a letter
from him saying he had only succeeded in get-
ting enough to do to earn his board, and he saw
no prospect in the future, but would hold on a
few days longer. Now here sat Mr. Brewster,
who had come to offer Ralph’s father a place.
“Td be very glad to have him,” said the gentle-

man. “I know him to be a good, steady man,
one to be relied upon. It isn’t much of a place
now, but there might be a better opening before
long. We can’t tell what may happen.”

Mrs. Selmser sewed on, and Ralph wondered
what in the world she could mean, and was
almost tempted to answer for her. At last she
spoke :—

“Tt isn’t the wages, Mr. Brewster, nor the low-
down place, as you may say. My husband is
not one to wait for good places. He would saw
wood for a living, if there wasn’t anything else
to do, and be thankful to get it. But I don’t
think he conld take this job, even if it came to
starving.”

Ralph looked amazed, not to say disgusted,
and Mr. Brewster, mildly astonished, waited for
an explanation.

“You see it is a matter of principle,” ex-
plained Mrs. Selmser. “ Reuben doesn’t believe

in the business; of course he oughtn’t to help
it along.”

A patient smile covered Mr. Brewster’s face..
«“ Oh! is that the trouble?” he said, in a kindly
tone. ‘ Well, my dear madam, you can set
your heart at rest; all in the world we shall
for him to do is to cart empty barrels
There

haye
from the mannfactory to the warehouse.
certainly cannot be any moral question about
that.”

Mrs. Selmser’s needle flew very fast. “The
question is, what goes into the barrels?” she
said at last, speaking gently but very firmly.

Mr. Brewster laughed. “I can’t imagine
what my porter would have to do with such a
question,” he said, still speaking with a show
of kindness. “He is paid for carting barrels,
and as I look at it, it is none of his business in
any way what is done with them after they
leave his hands.”

Mrs. Selmser stayed her needle and looked
steadily at her caller.

“Jt was kind in you to think of us, Mr.
Brewster, and I thank you. But I know my
husband well enough to be sure that he will
have nothing to do with barrels that are going
to have beer put into them; so there wouldn’t
be any use in sending for him.”

“Very well, madam,” said Mr. Brewster,
rising as he spoke. There were two red spots
on his cheeks by this time. “I suppose there |
is no use in my telling you that I think him a |
very foolish man indeed, and that he will be’
likely to starve his family before this hard win-)
ter is over, if he tries to live by such a pagan,
ish conscience as that. But any duty is foe
so I will bid you good-evening.”

“ Mother,” said Ralph, almost before the: ~
door closed after him, “I don’t see how yon
dared to say that to Mr. Brewster. He is a
very great man —the greatest man in this
town. The boys said to- ey that he was the
richest man in the country.”

“J have nothing to do with that,” said Mrs,
Selmeer. “I had to answer him, and there
was nothing else to say, as I look at things.” ;

“But don’t you think you are a little bit —'a
little bit ”— said Ralph, hesitating for a word,
and leaving a blank at last. “ You know father
wouldn’t have to touch beer, and, as Mr.





HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.





Brewster said, what is it to him what goes into
the barrels?”

«“ What difference does it make with you, my
son, if a boy in school borrows your knife to
cut a hole in his desk, and you know what he
is going to do, yet you open your knife and
hand it to him?”

“ That’s different,” said Ralph.

“ Yes, it is,” said his mother, “because the
mischief would only be done to a piece of
wood, while beer, now” — and she, too, left her
sentence blank.

“Come,” she said, after a few minutes of
silence, “read the verses and we will have
prayers, without waiting for Mary Jane. She
said she would be late to-night. They are get-
ting ready for a Christmas dinner, you know.”

“Jt is more than we are doing,” said Ralph,
with asigh. “I don’t see how we are to have
any kind of dinners if father can’t get work.
Shall I read some marked verses, mother ? ”

“Yes, do,” said Mrs. Selmser. “ Let us have
some of mother’s good words to-night to help
us, and don’t you worry about the dinners,
Ralph. Don’t you remember one of the verses
— ‘Verily, thou shalt be fed’ ?”

“One would think Mr. Brewster ought to
know right from wrong,” said Ralph, with an-
other sigh. “ He is a great man.”

Then he turned, without much thought about
it, to the very first marked verse on which his
eye alighted, “Great men are not always wise.”

“Why,” said Ralph in astonishment, “ isn’t
that strange? Did you know that was in the
Bible, mother? Why do you suppose Grandma
marked that?”

“ Maybe she had something to do with great
said Mrs. Selmser,
She was very glad
A lesson that he

men herself, some time,”
with a pleasant sinile.
Ralph had found that verse.
needed very much to learn was that it took
more than money to make greatness.

A few minutes more and the short, earnest

prayer had been offered, the door locked, the
- fire covered for the night, and the kitchen

', deserted.

Meantime, Mary Jane had sent

_ word by a neighbor that there were so many

ee

“Jast” things to do, in order to be ready for
the next day, she had decided to stay all night
and help them through.

Ralph could not help another sigh as he
turned to give a last look at the room. It was
in perfect order, not looking at all, the boy
thought, as a room should look on Christmas Eve.
One solitary stocking hung by the chimney
corner. All the little Selmsers had agreed
that Baby, as the three-year-old Ned was
called, was the only one who could afford to
hang up his stocking this year. “Ned is too
young to understand things,” the mother said,
“but the rest of you do, and will be cheerful
and good, I know. Next year maybe we can
have the chimney corner full of stockings.”
So Ned’s hung alone. It had been a perplexing
thing to fill that stocking, and had really taken
hours of contriving. . Every member of the
family had made some queer thing to put in it.
When they were all stuffed in, and it was found
to be quite filled, I think every one felt a sense
of relief. But the stocking did look lonely to
Ralph as he gave it a last look; and though he
said not a word, he thought in his heart that he
would like very well to hang his beside it, for
company. He told himself, as he climbed up-
stairs, that he didn’t see any sign of ever being
able to hang up his stocking again, or to have
any nice Christmases. They were growing
poorer and poorer; if father did not get work
soon, he did not see what would become of
them.

And so night settled down on the little home,
and the embers of the dying fire lighted the
room. But the stocking by the chimney corner
was not so lonely, after they were all gone, as
Ralph imagined. Certain queer little visitors
came out of their houses and eyed it curiously,
and sighed because it was beyond their reach.

They would have liked so much to gnaw it!
And they too grumbled over this Christmas

Eve,
barn; there was nothing to be had in this house
worth nibbling for!” But they had no marked
verses on which to stay their courage.

The sunshine of the next morning had not
yet conquered the frost on the window-pane,
when Ralph, who was making a fire for his
mother, heard a brisk voice call his name.
“Ralph, my boy, has your father come home?”

“ No, sir,” said Ralph, dropping his armful
of wood, and turning to open the door for Mr.

and said “they might as well live in a



THE

HARD

TEXT.



===



Powell, who was coming up the walk. “He is
in Barton.”

“ TIas he found work yet ?”

“No, sir. Mother had a letter last night,
saying he did not know of anything yet.”

“Glad of it,” said Mr. Powell, and as this
did not sound like a very friendly thing to say,
Ralph did not know how to answer it, so was
quiet, and by this time Mrs. Selmser had heard
the voices and come to the door,

“Good-morning!” said Mr. Powell, talking
fast. “Can you give me just the address to
reach your husband quickly, by telegram?
Ralph tells me he has not’ found employment,
and I want to get hold of him as quickly as
possible. My foreman has given me the slip,
without a day’s warning. I suppose he thinks
I cannot fill his place, and so will have to
bid higher, but I have been wishing for a good
chance to get your husband in the place.
Ihave had my eye on him for a year, but didn’t
see any chance of an opening, so long as the
other behaved himself, but now that he hasn’t,
it is all right. I will telegraph your husband
to come home by the noon train, so you better
have a Christmas dinner all ready for him.
Just send around to our supply store, madam,
for anything you want. I guess you will find
everything there, and your husband will prob-
ably deal with me, after this. I supply all my
people at cost. Brewstertold me last night you
had refused a place for your husband in his
brewery. Glad of it. That’s the grit I like.
He won’t lose anything, I guess. I pay my
foreman a good salary, and it is a permanent
place if a true man wants it.”

Mr. Powell talked fast, and made a short
stay. Ile was the largest business man in town,
and was always in a hurry, but it seemed to
Ralph he would never go. The boy wanted to
throw up his hat to the ceiling and shout, and
stand on one foot and whirl on the other, and
dance what he called a “jig,” and none of these
things seemed exactly proper to do in Mr.
Powell’s presence.

“QO mother, mother!” he said, as soon as he
could get breath again, after all these things
were finally accomplished, “some great men
are wise, anyhow, and Mr. Powell is a great
deal greater than Mr. Brewster ever thought of

being. Why, mother, he pays his foreman as
much as a thousand dollars a year! O, mother!
what if you had told Mr. Brewster father would
come and move his old beer bottles! Wouldn’t
that have been just awful?”

THE HARD TEXT.

“TI came not to send peace, but a sword.” —
Matt. x. 34.

IP Luke ii. 14, the angels sing of Jesus when
He was born “On earth peace.” At first
sight these two verses seem to contradict each
other. They do not. The blessed Book never
docs that. Remember, when one thing in one
part of the Bible seems to conflict with another
part or say something which seems to be wrong,
you are to conclude that a little better under-
standing will set it all to rights in your mind.

“T came not to send peace” to asinner if he
stay in his sins. “There is no peace to the
wicked.” Phere ought not to be. But as soon
as asinner asks Jesus for forgiveness, he gets
peace. That’s the way peace comes on earth;
it is the peace of God in the heart; peace and
joy in belicving.

Now when one gets this peace, it scems so
good that he wants some other one to get it, too.
So he speaks to this other one and urges him to
confess his sins and seek Jesus; and in most
cases this other one gets angry and talks against
Jesus or Christians, That often happens in a
family where one is a true Christian and the
others are not. Yousce how trouble will come.
There will be war in that family.
be a war of swords, but it will be

Tu nay not
a war’ of
words. Jesus does not want the war, and there
wouldnt be any if the sinner would give up.
But he does not usually surrender till after a-
hard battle with Jesus. So Jesus is said to
send a sword or war. It simply means “fam,
come to fight against the wrong, and people
who are on the wrong side and stay there, will.
fight against me and my soldiers.”

My dear, dear children, I wish you may.
never be found with a sword in your hand or
mouth or heart fighting against the Lord. Let:
Iiim put His sweet peace into your heart, and

when you draw the sword, draw it against sin. :

©

~



















SPRING BLOSSOMS AND AUTUMN FLOWERS.































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































yy



























































































































































































































































|

TITIES i nen re piste see re Geta tl ee tees mente een ee ee ee oe me DRC rr naib Se RR a 2 ie et ec





HARRY’S CONCLUSION.







POEM FOR RECITATION.
HARRY’S CONCLUSION.

UCH a row of bright boy faces,
So manly and true and brave!
And the face of the lady before them
Is fair and sweet, though grave.

She is striving to plant the Word of God
Like seed in each boyish heart,
Knowing that sooner or later
Seed thus sown will start.

One of that goodly number —
The bravest, brightest there —

Speaks out in bold, free question,
With manly voice and air:

“What does it mean, please, teacher:
‘If meat make my brother offend,
Never again will I taste of meat
From now till the world shall end’?

‘oWe must eat meat, all of us,
We boys can’t do without ;

We need it some, my mother says,
To make us strong and stout.”

“Pm glad, dear boy, that you asked it—
The answer is one you need;

Listen, all of you, while I give it,
And ever its teaching heed.

“The words are words of the grandest
man
That ever the world has known ;
Of him the world was unworthy —
Unworthy to call its own.

“The words are words of a king of men,
Even the Christ-like Paul —

He whom before the great light shone
Was known by the name of ¢ Saul.’

“You will read about it. I always feel” —
The sweet voice graver grew —

“Proud that I am of the self-same race,
When I think of his life so true.

to go together.
of what their lives seem most empty of — short-
ened in.

“He meant when he spoke the words yc





quote, man as
Just this, and only this: nother!
If any weaker brother r would
Through following him should miss ‘ouldn’t
“ A part of the good they were made for,
He was willing to forego
Much of the glorious liberty
That sons of the Master know. nals
“Tf eating, or drinking, or anything
That would not injure Paul, as when
Would injure his weaker brother, At first
He would not eat at all, ict each
yk never
“Lest following his example, xin one
They so weak should be led astray — another

Away from the path of the righteous,
‘The straight and narrow way.’

> wrong,
Yr under-

mind.
“ T see that you understand me — ier if he
It goes into all of life — : to the
We who are strong must give up much » as soon

To help our brother’s strife.” he gets
a earth ;
The row of boyish faces sik
Had taken a graver look
As home to each young bosom

The lesson each one took.

But Harry, the bold, free spokesman, vane
And his voice had a true, glad ring.

As if to his life he had taken
A precious and joyous thing.

|
j
The voice was exultant, bold and firm: |
“Tf meat make my brother offend, \
Never again will I taste of meat i
From now till the world shall end!”
Eaaty Baker SMALLE.

\

\
Everyzopy’s life and Bible are just madie
Everybody’s Bible is most full

Sometimes I think God shows Him-

self in as many separate Scriptures as separa‘te
souls; or as a soul’s separate questions.

. '
answers everything. — Selected. 1

It all



ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.





ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.

By MarGarer SIDNEY.

CHAPTER It.




OB went slowly up-stairs, opened the
W! door, and went in. He set the candle
YJg down on the deal table that served him

for bureau, wash-stand, and all toilet
arrangements, threw off his clothes, blew out
the flickering light, and got into bed.

“T ought to know how it seems to go hungry
to bed,” he observed philosophically to himself
as he huddled down under the comforters, “ but
somehow to-night it hurts worse than ever.”

The old stairs creaked. At first Rob paid
no attention to the noise. One rat more or less
made but little difference; and despite the
pain and hollowness in his lower regions, the
boy was beginning to feel sleepy. Presently
the latch was lifted, and as he raised his aston-
ished head, he saw Aunt Philena’s cap-frill
rounding the door. She held a tray in one
hand. Involuntarily Rob’s nose wrinkled, while
his hungry mouth twitched.

Aunt Philena came in deliberately, put her
candle down by the side of Rob’s extinguished
one, then brought the tray over to the bedside.

“ Goodness me !” —she could not help shiver-
ing, pulling up her shawl a bit closer around
her thin neck with her free hand — “it’s going
to be a cold night. There! hold your knees
up. Ill set the tray on em.”

Rob’s eyes glistened. Yes, there was a
generous wedge of the meat pie, and a bowl of
milk!

“Oh! now that’s awful good of you,” he
cried, picking up the pie, and without the pre-
liminary of a knife or fork, he set his firm,
white teeth into its midst.

Aunt Philena watched him grimly. Pres-
ently the plate was clean of all crumbs, and
every drop of milk out of the bowl. Then
Rob huddled down again under the bed clothes,
only leaving out two astonished blue eyes to
stare at her.

“Dl have to talk quick,” said Aunt Philena,
shivering again in spite of herself, “for it’s as
cold up here as some folks’ hearts. Got enough

clothes, Rob?” She passed her bony fingers
over the patched quilt.

“Yes, indeed,” said the boy, wriggling in a
comforted way. “Oh! that pie was so good,”

‘and he smacked his lips. “I’m warm enough

when I’m in, Aunt.” Then he waited to hear
what she had to say.

“He gets more unreasonable every day,”
said Aunt Philena abruptly, and pointing to-
ward the floor to indicate the only other occu-
pant of the homestead below stairs. “ Ji things
go on in this way, I don’t know where we'll
end, Rob.”

Rob, not understanding quite what to reply
to this, wisely said nothing.

“[’m sick and tired of it,” declared Aunt
Philena at last, astonished at herself for fur-
nishing such a flow of confidence, “and some-
thing has got to be done. But Pm beat if I
know what.”

Still Rob said not a word.

“ Yowre old enough now to understand some
things, Rob. When you were fourteen I made
up my mind I'd tell you. Your mother, if she’d
lived, would have had her rights here the same
as he and I have; now she’s dead, they’re
yours.”

The boy sat straight up in bed now, the
clothes toxsed back from his young shoulders
that had lost all fear of the cold, the light flash-
ing from his bright blue eyes, and every nerve
strained to catch the astonishing news.

«“ Your uncle don’t mean to cheat you, ’tisn’t
that,” she went on with a tightening of the
thin lips, as if a pain had suddenly seized her
at some unwelcome thought — “ but it is cheat-
ing you, all the same, out of an education, that
will stand you in stead by and by, better than
this land and homestead that will all be yours,
of course.”

«©, Aunt!” cried Rob, springing forward to
lay his brown hand on her long fingers, “if
Uncle Joel will only let me go to school, he
may have all the rest of my share in the prop-
erty. I don’t want it.”

Aunt Philena smiled grimly, the thin lips re-
laxing against their will. “ You'll want every
bit of the property when it comes time for you
to have it,” she said. “You won’t find it hard
to use it, dwindled down as it has, Rob. I can



BEHOLD

THE BARE.



remember this place actually rolling in plenty,
the house full of people, and everybody happy.”
She set her lips together hard now, and fell
into a train of reverie, from which the boy,
awakened to eager aspirations, found it difficult
to rouse her.

“One thing is settled,” at last she said,
slowly, “you are to go to school.” The boy
gave an exclamation of delight. “How it can
be managed, I don’t yet see. But you and I
will keep our own counsel, and go right on just
thesame. And I don’t doubt the plan will come
to me. Any way, you go to school. There,
lie down now, Rob, and go-to sleep.” She
rose, gathered up the dish and bowl that had
been shaken off the tray, and, picking up her
candle, went out, leaving the boy still sitting
erect in the bed, with starry eyes peering into
a future suddenly ablaze with hope.

Rob went down stairs early the next morning,
like a new boy. Mechanically, he went through
the chores that, under his uncle’s arrangement,
grew a little heavier each day. But this winter
morning they did not press. Rob had other
thoughts than complaining ones as he made
the kitchen fire, fed the few animals that
belonged to the dwindled farm, and accom-
plished the other things that were necessary to
set the household in running order for the day.
And when the big bell rang for breakfast, he
was surprised for once to find the meal had
come too soon for him, and he went in and
took his place, fairly aglow with light and
happiness.

“ You are late,” growled Uncle Joel, by way
of morning greeting. And then he stopped at
sight of the boy’s face. “Humph! it does you
good once in a while to go to bed without your
supper, doesn’t it?” he added with a grim
smile. “You'll try it maybe a little oftener in
the future.”

Rob kept his eyes fastened on his plate, and
the rapidly disappearing mush thereon. Some-
how he felt guilty of a piece of deception with
the knowledge of the meat pie and bowl of milk
episode.

But all other reflections were presently lost
in the charming rose-colored reverie into which
he found himself plunged, and soon he foyr-
got the existence of his uncle and aunt in

ee

‘the wild planning of his school duties and

pleasures.

“ What do you mean, sir!” at last thundered
his uncle; “T have spoken to you three times,
and you have not condescended to answer. Go
from the table at once.”

Rob looked up, all his hot young blood in his
face. A new-born feeling of self-respect made
him throw his head back and gaze at the
wrinkled, harsh face. Was he not an equal
sharer in the home privileges as well as the
angry old man who commanded him this way
and that, like a slave? He was on the point of
asserting this new independence, when a glance
at his aunt who sat erect as ever in her high-
backed chair at the end of the table, made him
suddenly pause, push back his chair, and go out
of the kitchen.

Uncle Joel proceeded with his. breakfast
leisurely, making no remark other «ian to snarl
because the eggs were overdone, and the tea
cold. But Aunt Philena took everything as a
matter of course, and made no attempt at
conversation.

“Pve about made up my mind about that
boy,” said her brother, pushing back his chair
on the conclusion of the meal, and deliberately
fastening his keen gray eyes on her. “Dm
about at the end of my patience with him.
He’s an unpromising lot, at best.”

“ He’s Mary’s boy, I suppose you remember,”
observed Miss Philena dryly.

“Hum —yes! but he’s Carter’s boy as well,
and that makes all the difference in the world,”
replied Joel crossly. “No, Philena, I’ve tried
to make something of him quite long enough.
Now he goes.”

BEHOLD THE BABE.
[» ENOLD a babe, whose sunny head
Reposes on a manger bed,
A helpless Babe, and yet a King,
Whose praise the herald angels sing,
While shepherds bow with glad surprise,
Beside the manger where He lies,
And Eastern sages come from far
To hail the rising Morning Star.
— Selected.





|

adil

Ay
V4

ae

BABY’S

CORNER.





BABY’S CORNER.

WHO TOOK CARE OF BABY?

a day inamma sat Baby Lou on the
CI

y bed and put large pillows behind her.



Then she brought some pretty play-
things and put before her, Mamma
sat down by the window and went to
sewing on a red dress for Baby.

Little Lou hugged her dolly and kissed it,
then she danced it up and down and squeezed
its head. She jingled her rattle. She bit her
ivory ring and pounded a tin cup with a spoon,
and swung her string of spools. :

At last she got tired of them all. She said
to herself: “ I will throw my tin horse on the
floor. It will make a nice bang.”

So down it went. Then she threw the string
of spools and the ring. The rattle-box went



BABY LOU.

next; all its little bells jingled as it fell, and
Baby laughed.
Should she throw dolly —her sweet dolly?

‘Yes, she must. Dolly fell on the floor with a

bump and Baby looked sorry. Now everything
was gone. She looked at mamma. She was
just going to put out her hands to beg mamma
to take her, but her eyes felt queer and her
little hands dropped down by her side. In a
second Baby was fast asleep.

“ Ah,” said mamma, “now is a good time

for me to go down stairs and iron Baby’s white
dress.”

So she went and left Little Lou alone, but
she was safe, because the dear God sends angels
to watch over babies while they sleep.

By and by Baby Lou waked up. She turned
her head to the window to look at mamma, but
no mamma was there. Her chair was empty.
Then Baby was afraid. She doubled up her
fat little hand and rubbed her eye and began
to cry.

But what was that queer little noise?

“Peep, peep, peep!”

Baby stopped crying and looked about her.
What did she see? Why, a lovely little yellow
bird hopping around on the bed.

It was Jip, who lived in a pretty cage that
hung on a nail by the window. His door had
been left open, so he came out to see Baby.
Baby did not know Jip could walk. She
opened her eyes wide and stared at him.
He picked at the threads in the spread,
then he turned his head on one side and
looked at Baby with his little round eyes.

He hopped up on the foot board at last
and sung a sweet song. Baby smiled at
him.

Mamma had some callers. They kept
her a long time, but little Lou was not
afraid, because the dear bird was with
her. ;

When mamma came in Jip was stand-
ing on Baby’s pillow, and she was talking
funny little Baby words to him.

“Good little Jip,” said mamma, “did you
take care of precious Baby? Jip shall have a
lump of sugar.”

Mrs. C. M. Livineston.

“You know Truth by being true; you recog-
nize God by being like Him.” Even a Httle
child can understand this.



HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.





HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.
By Pansy.

THE VOICE OF ONE CRYING IN THE WILDERNESS, PREPARE
YE THE WAY OF THE Lorp.

As His custom was, He WENT INTO THE SYNAGOGUE ON
THE SABBATH DAY.

As soon AS HE AD SPOKEN, IMMEDIATELY THE LEPROSY
DEPARTED FROM HIM AND HE WAS CLEANSED.

Who PORGIVETU ALL THINE INIQUITIES, WHO HEALETH
ALL THY DISEASES.

| eee moved restlessly about the room,

not seeming able to settle anything. The
little girls were ready for church, and his
mother had twice told him that he would be
late, before he made up his mind to speak:
“TI don’t believe Pll go to chureh to-day,
mother.”

“ Are you sick?” his mother asked, pausing
in the midst of her bustling about, and looking
at him anxiously.

“No, ma’am, not sick exactly, but you know
I have a cold,” he said, giving a little cough,
as if to prove his words. “I don’t feel just
like going, somehow.”

“ Well,” said Mrs. Selmser, speaking with a
little hesitation, as one who didn’t half-like
what she was going to say, “you know we like
to have all the family about us in church, and
it ought to be an important reason that keeps
one at home, but then, if you don’t feel well
enough to go, that is reason enough. You are
sure you have not a sore throat?” and she
looked at him anxiously.

“O, no, ma’am! my throat isn’t sore a bit;
it is just a cold, you know.” And again he
tried that little cough.

“Well,” said Mrs. Selmser again, “I sup-
pose you will have to stay at home. But what
will you do all the morning? Perhaps I would
better stay with you.”

“Qh! no, indeed,” Ralph said, “I wouldn’t
have you do that for anything. I can get along
all right. I’ve got a nice book to read.”

Mrs. Selmser did not look as pleased as she
might have done over this bit of news. “The
Bible is the best book to read on Sunday when
people cannot go to church,” she said gravely.

“Oh! I shall read the Bible,” Ralph an-

swered eagerly. “ I’m going to read my chapter
the first thing, and some of my marked verses,
before I open my Sunday-school book.”

“And live up to them? Reading Bible ~
verses doesn’t amount to much, you know,
unless you do what they say.”

“Why, of course,” said Ralph, but he spoke
less confidently than before. He knew enough
about the Bible to realize that it was sometimes
a hard book to live up to.

In another hour the family were all gone,
and Ralph was alone in the neat kitchen, with
the fire burning brightly, and his attractive-
looking book on his lap. He had read a few
pages in it the night before, but he did not
himself realize how much this had had to do
with his not feeling well enough to go to church.
His friend, Bennie Stone, had given it.to him
on Saturday morning, to return to the library
for him, and secure another, because he was
going to his grandmother’s to spend Sunday,
and could not do it for himself. Ralph had
not looked into the book until night, and then,
as I say, had found it delightful. All the while
he was undressing, he tried to plan how he
might read that book. He could not draw it
from the school, because it would be his turn
to-morrow to have a book for which he had
been waiting several weeks. If he let this
opportunity pass, there was no telling when he
would have another. It was just as he, was
hopping into bed, that the thought came to
him: “If I shouldn’t happen to be well
enough to go to church to-morrow morning, I-
might read it then.”

On the whole, I do not think it strange that
by morning he thought himself not very well.
The book lay on his lap, but Ralph was mind-
ful of his promise, and reached for Grandmother’s
Bible. First his chapter — he was reading the
Bible through in course. The chapter for the
day proved to be almost entirely composed of
proper names. MJalph tried to give them atten-
tion, but_could not help thinking how uninterest-
ing they were. Now, for a marked verse; he
decided that he would read only one to-day,
and that he would take it from the Gospels —
the first marked verse he saw. This was the
verse: “ As His custom was, he went into the
synagogue on the Sabbath day.” Ralph read it







OPPORTUNITY.





through twice before he began to realize what
“living up” to this verse was going to mean
to him.

Gradually the thought shaped itself in his
mind: “That verse is about Jesus, and to live
up to it, I must do as near like Him as I can.
Well, don’t I, I should like to know? When
have I stayed away from church before? A
fellow can’t go to church when he has a cold.
Disturb all the people coughing. Poh! Ralph
Selmser, what’s the use? You know you haven’t
coughed but three times this morning ; and two
of those you could have smothered if you had
wanted to. And you know if it was Monday,
and there was a coasting spree on the hill,
you would coax like a good fellow, to go, and
know forty reasons why it wouldn’t hurt you.”
Were there two people talking? Ralph felt a
little curious about it himself; they seemed to
hold such different views; but he knew this
much: both of them lived in his heart. Silence
for a few minutes, during which time Ralph
read the marked verse again. Then he rose up,
stretched himself, looked in the glass in the
clock face to make sure that his hair was all
right, and made this remark: “ It is my opinion,
Ralph Selmser, that you had better do ‘as your
custom is,’ and make for church as fast as your
legs can carry you.”

It was during the singing of the second hymn
that he slipped past his father and took.a seat
at his mother’s side. For the benefit of those
interested, I want to report that he did not
cough once during the service.

‘“« What has become of your cold?” asked his
mother after the benediction was pronounced:

“Gone,” he answered with a queer smile.
“There was a verse in Grandmother’s Bible
that cured it.”

Mrs. Selmser asked no more questions; in
some respects she was a wise woman. On the
way home from church she said she shouldn’t
wonder if mother’s Bible would be worth a
fortune to the children.



I xnow no sweeter way to heaven than
through free grace and hard trials together.
And, where grace is, hard trials are seldom
wanting.

OPPORTUNITY.

ARION was not jealous of her little
cousin ; she had smiled on her brightly
this New Year’s morning, and helped
her count the many things she had
to be glad over, and had gotten
through the first half of the hard day without
shedding atear. It was when little Lora climbed
a chair and put both chubby arms around her
mother’s neck, as she said, “ What would Lora
do without her dear, dear mamma?” that
Marion felt a great lump rise in her throat, and
had to turn away quickly to hide the tears.
Even then she was not jealous, only very, very
sad.

Let me tell you about her. Just one year
before, on New Year’s day, she had been living
in the beautiful Southland, with her father and
mother and two big brothers. The day had
been a very happy one. Marion remembered
that the New Year’s dinner had been served on
the south piazza, where the sunshine made
everything warm and bright. She remem-
bered that they had green peas for dinner,
picked that day from their own garden.

Only a year since that time, and now she was
in the frozen North alone. Father, mother,
and brothers all gone! She had not even a
relative in this country with whom she could
live.

An old friend of her father’s had sent for her,
brought her to his home, taught her to call
him uncle, and the whole family had adopted
her, and did everything they could to make her
happy. Lora had counted her that very morn-
ing as one of the “ things” she had to be glad
over. Yet I think you can understand why
she found it hard to keep back the tears.

She ran down stairs and took refuge from
gome one who was coming down the hall, in the
first room she reached. This proved to be the
refreshment room, for, as I have told you, it
was New Year’s day, and Miss Helena was re-
ceiving calls. There was no one in the room
when Marion entered, but in a moment more
two young men came from the parlor. One of
them went to the refreshment table, and began
to help himself, the other stood one side and
waited for him.





OPPORTUNITY.—THE HARD TEXT.

“Shall I pour you a cup of coffee, Nellis?”
asked his friend.

“ No, thanks; I have drank all the coffee I
care for to-day. I will wait here for you.” He
stepped nearer the deep window seat, behind
whose heavy curtains Marion had hidden her-
self. There he saw the pale little girl in a
black dress, with the tears still slowly follow-
ing one another down her cheeks. He was a
special friend of the family, and knew Marion’s
sad story, though she did not know him very
well.

“Happy New Year!” he said softly, respect-
ing her evident desire to hide. “Have you
been happy to-day ?”

Marion struggled with her tears, and tried to
control her voice, as she said, “No, sir.”

“ Not?” he said, putting a surprised tone into
his voice. ‘Isn’t that rather strange on this
first bright day of the New Year?”

She could not help feeling a little indignant.
What was a bright day to her? Of course
he did not know about her, but it seemed
to Marion as though everybody ought to know
just what a desolate little girl she was. She
turned her head a little, so she could see his
face, and said, “ This is the first New. Year’s
day I ever spent away from my father, and
mother, and brothers, and they are all dead,
and I am alone.”

The sentence had been commenced bravely,
but her poor little voice failed her before
its close, and the last word was almost a
wail. Still she made very little noise. The
gentleman at the other end of the room,
drinking coffee, and eating cake, did not hear
her at all.

“T know,” said the tall gentleman by the
window, bending forward a little, and speaking
very gently, “but there is another way to put
it: this is the first New Year’s day your father
and mother and brothers ever spent in Heaven.
They are safe and glad and happy forever, and
the reason they can be happy there without
their little daughter is because they have left
her in the care of One who is so wise and good
and great, that they know He never makes a
mistake about anything, And they know He
has promised that just as soon as the right
time comes, their daughter shall come home to

?

them to live forever. Meantime, while she is
waiting here, this great Friend whom her
parents love and serve, has a little work for her
to do. Part of it is to show people how en-
tirely she trusts Him, and that she can be cheer-
ful and happy because she knows she is in His
hands, and He has made no mistake.”

There were still tears on Marion’s face, but
she was smiling before these sentences were
concluded.

“Thank you,” she said, “I never thought of
it that way. I did not know that I ought to
be happy without them, and sometimes it made
me feel badly to think they could be happy
even in Heaven without me. I won’t ever feel
so, any more.”

“ Come, Nellis,” said the coffee-drinker, “ we
ought to be moving. We shall not get half-
way down our list at this rate.”

“ All ready,” said his friend. “Good-by!”.

This last word spoken softly to the shadow
behind the curtain; and he went away, hav-
ing used his opportunity to bind up a bruised
heart. Pansy.

THE HARD TEXT.
( The Blessed. — Matt. v. 3-9.)

A LITTLE boy was once distressed over

these seven verses because they seemed
to describe seven different persons with a
different promise and some of the promises
not so good as others. One especially,
“ They shall inherit the earth,” seemed to
him very nice. “But what’s all the earth,”
he asked, “if one hasn’t any heaven?” At
last the thought came to him: “ What if
these seven verses are all about the same per-
sons? What if they are a picture of God’s
Child? What if Jesus has painted it for me to
look at and study and try to be like?” His
distress gave way to peace and joy. Jesus
seemed to be looking out of that dear picture
and whispering, “ My child, I want you to be
poor in spirit, to be merciful, to be pure in
heart, to be a peacemaker and much more,
Study this picture at hom, in school, every-
where ; I want to make you like it.”

















NELLIE AYEUS AND TER GRAY-EYED CAT



Rt eee anene erences nearer runnin ay oe





NOB: A STORY FOR BOYS.

= =

ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.
By MarGarrr SipNey.
CUAPTER Ul.

E goes away,” said Joel Slocum again,
[ with a long look into bis sister’s face.

Miss Philena drew her breath hard.
Once she unfolded her thin lips as if to
say something, then, thinking better of
it, shut them again, and a dead silence fell
between the two.

“T shall go over and make the necessary ar-
rangements with Barker to-day,” observed Joel
after the pause had lasted so long that the tick-
ing of the old clock pursued them with a sense
of discomfort; “he’s ready to take him any
time, only I didn’t want to bind him over till
Vd given him more chances to behave himself
there. But the boy’s beyond me; I can’t man-
age him, I’m free to confess. And you— well,
Philena, you’ve taken away what little hope
there was of his being anything. THe’s just got
the upper hands of you. That’s plain enough
to see.”

“Are you going to bind that boy out to
Jedediah Barker ?”’ demanded Miss Philena in
a shrill gust, and starting forward in her chair
to fix her keen black eyes on the irritated face
before her. ‘ What— Mary’s boy ?”

“Indeed Iam!” cried Joel flatly, and throw-
ing all the defiance possible to his nature up to
meet the black eyes, under whose steady gaze
he quailed inwardly. “And it’ll be the making
of the boy. Barker runs the best farm in the
county, and there the youngster will learn how
to work properly, and get some wholesome dis-
cipline, a thing he’s never had here, to teach
him steady habits.”

“You seem to forget that along with Jede-
diah Barker’s reputation for the finest farm in
the country, has gone the other report of his
cruelty to his work-people, and his stingy, close
ways. If all is true that is told of him, it isn’t
the place to trust a dog in, let alone 2 boy —
and our Mary’s boy.”

“You are forever harping on ‘our Mary’s
boy,’ ” cried Joel sharply, and turning off on his
heel to pace to the window. “A boy is a boy,



whether he was Mary’s or some other woman’s.
And don’t I know what’s better for the proper
training of one than you who’ve sat in the
chimney corner all your life— and let things
go to rack and ruin, pray tell? Rob isn’t going
to be hurt over there to Barker’s. The man

wouldn’t dare to do him harm, seeing he’s our

relation. And he will learn that life isn’t made
up of lazy truckling to an uncle and aunt who
let him have his own head, because it’s too
much trouble to do anything else with him. I
shall see Barker to-day.”

He came back to stand in front of his sister.
When she looked at him, she knew that it was
well to change her tactics. For once Joel
would do as he said.

“ Who’s going to do the work here?” she

asked, as if this were the chief obstacle to
providing a place for Rob.

“Pye got that all planned,” said her brother,
with a triumphant laugh. “It’s been all settled
for weeks that whenever I bound Rob out, I
should take one of Barker’s boys that he hasn’t
much use for.”

“Oh!” Miss Philena repressed the shiver
that came creeping over her. A cruel fate
seemed desperately near to closing around
Rob. She must work quickly. Even as this
truth flashed through her, she experienced a
delightful thrill at the novelty of being called
upon for prompt executive action.

“Well, if you’ve made up your mind to do
it,’ she managed to say carelessly, “why, of
course you must, that’s all. But remember, he
don’t go to Barker’s with my consent.”

“ All right. He goes without it, then,” said
Joel, with an unpleasant langh. And though
astonished at her quick relinquishing of Rob’s
cause, he was nevertheless gratified at the pros-
pect of losing the wordy entanglement that had
threatened him. And, manlike, as soon as every-
thing was made smooth for the quick execution
of his idea, he began to think there was not so
much need to take the long drive that morning.

“Pll put you up a lunch,” said his sister
presently, getting out of her chair, “You'll
be gone all day, I s’pose,” and she disappeared
into the buttery.

“T @no as I shall go over there to-day, after
all,” said Joel, going to the small window, and



ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.



aquinting at the clouds. “It looks like rain.
It does rain now,” as a few drops fell aslant
the little panes.

Miss Philena drew a long breath in her safe
eorner behind the buttery door, and clasped
her hands. Providence was tender, after all,
ard the boy might be saved.

“T ghall drop a line to Barker and let him
know I am going to-morrow,” said Joel, turning
off to the tall secretary in the corner. “ After
all, that’s best ; but I'll go to-morrow, rain or no
rain, for I’m determined to have it over with.”

“« All right,” said Miss Philena, coming out
-of the buttery, “then Pll do up my dishes.”

Tl] have the lunch early in the morning,”
said Joel, hunting for a pen in the little drawer,
“ for I shall be off in good time, so’s to be home
‘before dark.” ,

His sister vouchsafed no reply, but set up a
rattling among the breakfast things that showed
her mind intent on her morning work.

Uncle Joel, unaccustomed to letter-writing,
soon forgot, in the pangs the present one was
causing him, the presence or absence of another,
and the kitchen had been deserted for a half
hour or so, when he looked around, and missing
his sister, called out, “ Philena! say, Philena!”

“What do you want?” said a voice in the
upper hall.

“ Where are you?” he answered, not getting
out of his chair.

“Up-stairs doing my work. Pm going to
look over some things in the garret. May be up
there an hour. Do you want anything?”

“No,” he called back. He had wanted to
ask her if there were two ¢’s in necessary,
but reflecting that a woman was apt to be a
trifle tart when called from her feminine occupa-
tions, he concluded that it was better to risk the
spelling and let her alone. So he put in two
to be on the safe side, and escape the charge of
nigeardliness with his letters. :

“What in the name of sense she’s doing
looking over things in that garret, passes me,”
he muttered. “She’s forever at it,” which was
quite true. Miss Slocum, missing much of the
enjoyment that falls to other women, found it
in the excitement of living in the past, always
produced by a temporary sojourn among the
battered hats, unused garments and old furni-

ture of a by-gone generation, reposing in the
garret of the homestead. So as she was going
to be up there, Joel dismissed her from his
thoughts, and his letter being at last completed,
he went out to proceed to the village centre to
post it.

Miss Philena watched him from the cob-
webbed garret window, and throwing down the
moth-caten pantaloons she was examining,
seized a small leather bag she had laid carefully
on the lid of the chest from which she had
drawn it, and hurried over the stairs and out to
the barn.

“ Rob,” she said, with a short metallic click
to each syllable, “ you mustn’t ask any questions,
because there isn’t any time to answer them.
Tl tell you everything you need to know.
Your uncle is going to bind you out to-morrow
to Jedediah Barker unless I save you. But I
can’t unless you do exactly as I tell you.” She
laid her hand on his arm now.

“Hush! don’t speak,” as he straightened up,
the axe with which he was chopping the gnarled.
sticks falling to his side, “every minute is
precious. He may be home soon. Listen!
You run right up garret as quick as you can.
There’s a pair of pantaloons lying on the chest
by the window. They were your uncle’s when
he was your size. J meant to give em to you
before, but he thought you better wait awhile.
Get into ’em as fast as you can and put on
your Sunday jacket, then come to me.”

Rob, with wide eyes, sprang off, and was soon
back, throwing on the coat as he ran, although
it seemed an age to Miss Philena, sitting on an
old log with her gray woollen skirt picked up
around her.

“Now, Rob,” she said, getting up as he
dashed into the old barn, “you are to go to
Mary Ellis’ over in Notting, you understand,
and give her this note.” Miss Philena picked
it out of her gray woollen waist and set it
within the brown hand. “ You must do exactly
as she tells you in everything. I don’t tell you
what you are going to do, or where you are
going, remember, but whatever she says will be
right. Your part is just to obey. Now, here,”
she drew out of her ample pocket the leather
bag and thrust it into bis hand. “I can’t stop
to sew it into your clothes, because I’m afraid



BEN-HADAD’S FIRST CHRISTMAS.





he’ll be home, but Mary will do it for you.
It’s money; be careful of it.”

“ Money!” ejaculated Rob, his eyes starting
out. He had never held money in his life, ex-
cept a few cents at a time, when entrusted with
an errand at the baker’s or grocer’s. And this
bag seemed quite heavy.

“Hush!” warned his aunt, her finger on her
lips; “don’t speak, but go, and God bless you!”

With a sudden movement, she laid her angu-
lar hand on the boy’s thick crop of brown hair.
“Don’t you ever do a thing you wouldn’t have
wished your mother to know.”

Rob set on his well-worn cap with an unsteady
hand, then looked up at hig aunt. “IJ should
like to kiss you,” he said; “I never have, you
know.”



“BACK TO HER MOTHER’S NEGRO CABIN.”

For answer Aunt Philena’s long arms sud-
deniy gathered him up, then as abruptly she
pushed him off. “Go!” and she disappeared
within the house.

tob heard with dazed ears the shuffling tread
of his uncle coming down the road, and slipping
the bag into his pocket, he skulked out of the
back door, being careful to keep within the
shadow of the barn till a friendly thicket
received him from view.

els

BEN-HADAD’S FIRST CHRISTMAS.
PART IL.

FTER that the choir marched out,
singing as they went, and Ben-Hadad,
turning to give a good-by look to the
Madonna and the Child, went out, too.

On the way home he kept his eyes
open, as he had promised to do, for some un-
comfortable person to invite to his Christmas
feast. Just as he was turning the last corner,
he came upon a little colored girl, a ragged

shawl wrapped about her, leaning against a

stone wall, right in the snow, and fast asleep.

She must be having pleasant dreams, Ben-Hadad

thought, for she was smiling in a way that did

not seem to indicate that

she was uncomfortable.

“But she must be
awfully cold,” said Ben,
“and she will freeze if
she stays there asleep.
I think,” he added re-
flectively, “that she is
one of the ‘least.’ Any-
how, ’m going to wake
her up.”

This was no sooner
said than done. The
girl, roused from her
slumber, sleepily cried,
“Heah you, Jawge
Washin’ton!”

Ben-Hadad laughed.
“Tm not George Wash-



darky, noticing the
strange voice, opened her
eyes and stared at him.

“Tt is cold,” he said. “Tf you stay here
asleep, you will freeze. Haven’t you any place
to stay?”

The girl nodded and arose slowly. “I
reckon I kin fin’ a bar’l, or I kin get took up,
nohow.”

Ben-Hadad, not being acquainted with that
class of people whose comfort while sleeping
depends upon their being “took up” by a
policeman for vagrancy, did not understand

at
ington,” he said, and the

Nine



vag

BEN-HADAD’S FIRST CHRISTMAS.

the girl’s plan of lodging in the lock-up, and
was satisfied.

“ Look here!” he said, “are you uncomfort-
able ?”

His new acquaintance laughed. “ Dishyeah
niggah,” she observed, “ don’t git much else.”

Without attempting to parse her sentence,
Ben-Hadad resolved that she was eligible to a
place at his feast, and proceeded,—

“Do you know to-morrow is Christmas ? ”

“JT reckon.”

“ Tfow are you going to celebrate ?”

“Do know.”

“Well, if you want something to eat, and a
chance to get warm, you come around to my
house at six o’clock to-morrow evening to a
Christmas party. Will you?”

His acquaintance was grinning now, having

gotten over her astonishment sufficiently during
the early part of his invitation.
“Dishyeah nigegah will be dere, ef she ain’t
dead nor froze.” And Ben-Hadad taking this
as un nssurance that she “would be happy to
accept,” pointed out his home, and then made
all speed for it, for Mother Hadad was at the
door, lamp in hand, looking anxiously up the
street for him.

« Mother,” he said, “Pye got my other one;
and such singing as I heard! It sounded like
the angels’ song, only it wasn’t ‘Good-will
toward men.’” ;

“Tt is all good-will toward men,” said Mother
Hadad, as she bent over and kissed his forchead,
“whatever belongs to Christmas. That is what
our party is going to be.”

Christmas morning dawned beautiful and
bright, although the air was still very cold, and
the snow had not melted at all. Before the
sun had had time to warm the air, or to make
the little icicles drop their tears of disgust on
the pavement, Ben-Hadad had gone around to
get Mr. Sanborn’s Christmas present. And
lo! it had turned out to be a turkey instead of
a chicken, all dressed and stuffed, and some
apple-pies and doughnuts! How splendid this
would be, thought the young host, for their
party. For although he had hung up _ his
stocking with suecess, and had received some
delightful Christmas presents, nothing gave him
so much pleasure as the thought of the coming

feast. Uncle Flatiron had been invited and
had gruffly consented to come. Ben-Hadad
feared only that his dark-skinned guest would
not be there.

“You will have to go ont in the highways
and hedges for a substitute,” said Mother
Hadad, “if she doesn’t, but I have no doubt
she will appear.”

“ Mother,” said Bennie, “the birds are here
again, and they look hungrier than they did
yesterday.”

Mother Hadad came to the window to look
at the five little sparrows who were huddled
together on one limb of the lonesome tree.

“ Poor things!” she said; “they are uncom-
fortable.”

This gave Ben-Hadad an idea.

“QO, mother! mayn’t I invite them to my
party?”

Mother Iladad Jaughed — her little laugh that
reminded one of the ripple of a shady brook ;
one that could come from smooth water, but
from dashing against little stones.

. “Yes,” she said. “Only they will be asleep

by the time it begins. You will have to give
them a special course beforehand. They are
thinking of starting for a warm place now, to
judge from their looks.”

“ Then I will have to hurry and invite them,”
said Ben-Hadad. “TI will give them bread-
erumbs and cake-crumbs, too, seeing it’s the
party. They caw’t have as much of a variety
as the rest, can they? Do you suppose they
would like some turkey, mother?”

“JT don’t think you would better try them,”
said Mother Hadad, smiling. “They will be
perfectly satisfied with a simple bill of fare.”

When the birds had been to their party,
which they attended gratefully, and had eaten
their erumbs quickly and silently, not talking
about them at all, and had flown awar; when
the stars had begun to peep out just a little,
bashfully, and some stray snowflakes were
strageling around, looking for a place to spend
the night, Ben-[adad stood at the window, and
opening it a little, put his head out te look for
his guests.

“ Mother,” he said, not drawing it in as he
spoke, “I wish I conld have a Christmas plum-
pudding for our party.”



BEN-HADAD’S FIRST CHRISTMAS.



“You do?” asked a deep voice right at his
ear, and turning with a start, his eyes met the
twinkling ones of a young gentleman in a big
overcoat, just going around the corner, with his
arnis full of bundles.

“You do?” the voice repeated. “And
what do you want of a plum-pudding ?”

Ben-Hadad looked embarrassed. “I was
speaking to mother,” he said. ‘But I wanted
the pudding for our party.” '

“Do you usually put your head out of the
window when you want to speak to your
mother? What kind of a party are you going
to have? Who are coming? And what do
you want of a plum-pudding ?”

Ben-Hadad could not help looking astonished
at the man who asked so many questions, and
thought he was a little impolite, but answered
meekly : —

“ Tt is a Christmas party, sir, and only Uncle
Flatiron and a colored girl are coming. They
are two of the ‘least,’ you know — the most
disagreeable and the most uncomfortable persons
that I know. And I only wanted a plum-pud-
ding because they most always have them on
Christmas.”

The man with the big overcoat seemed very
much interested. We laid his packages on the
window-sill, and asked questions about Uncle
Flatiron and the colored girl, and why they
had been invited, and what they were going to
have to eat. When Ben-Hadad told about the
bird’s party, he laughed very loud.

“ Well,” he said, “that is quite an idea. If
I come around and call, when you have had
supper, will you mind ?”

“Oh! no, indeed,” said Ben-Hadad, trying
to think whether there would be chairs enough
in the parlor. Just then his mother came into
the room.

“ Ben-Hadad,” she said severely, “have you
left that window open all this time? What
are you doing?”



“Tam talking to a man with a big overcoat,
that is asking me questions about the party.
He” —

“Well, good-night,” said the man. “A
merry Christmas to you! Perhaps J’ll come
_ around.”

“Tt is right in you to be civil to strangers,”

said Mother Hadad, “ but not to keep the win-
dow open and make the room cold.”

Very soon afterward Uncle Flatiron came,
and a little later Ben-Hadad’s dusky guest, in a
brilliant costume of a red shawl and a yellow
turban, both of which appeared to have beer
picked out of an ash-heap, and bore the marks
of their late residence. While the guests were
being seated and made comfortable, there came
a knock at the front door, and a man who had
just jumped out of a cart. and wanted to get
back to it, handed Ben-Hadad a package, and
saying only, “Paid!” hurried away. Mother
Hadad opened the parcel out on the table, and
behold! it contained an English plum-pudding,
piping hot, just from the bakery. On it was a
card, saying in fine hand writing : —

FOR THE CHRISTMAS PARTY.

From
The “Man with the Big Overcoat.”

My story is already too long, and if I would,
I could not tell you all abont that party. Te
say that none of those present had ever at-
tended such a unique gathering before, would be
little. To say that none of them had ever had
such a good time before, would be but part of

the truth. To be sure, Uncle Flatiron growled

a great deal, but that was only to be expected,
and the unbounded delight of “Sa Yan,” as the
colored girl had introduced herself, who cared
to do little but sit in a corner by the fire and
grin, made up for all lack of good-feeling on the
part of any one else. The turkey and the
cranberries and the apple-pie and the dough-
nuts and the plum-pudding all seemed to do
their very best to be good for Ben-Tadad’s
Christmas feast, and Uncle Flatiron and Sa’ Yan
both did their part to dispose of them. Candy
and nuts were passed around, and then Father
Hadad, who had been as much surprised as
anybody at the party, played checkers with
Uncle Flatiron, because then the old man did
not have to try to hear anything, and Mother
Hadad sat down and talked to Sa’Yan, and
Ben-Hadad flitted about with a beaming face,
the happiest one of the company, smiling on
all the rest.

Just as a game of checkers was finished, snd

ro



BEN-HADAD’S FIRST CHRISTMAS.



there was a lull in the conversation, there came
another knock at the door; when it was opened,
who should stand there but the Man with the.
Big Overcoat, and leaning on his arm a beauti-
ful lady, whom he introduced to Mother Hadad
as his sister, saying they had come to make a
eall on “the party,” to wish them a merry
Christmas !

Mother Hadad showed them chairs, and Ben-
Hadad told how much obliged they were for
the plum-pudding, but right in the middle of
one of his sentences he stopped, for he had
been looking at the sister of the Man with the
Big Overcoat, and had discovered that she was
the lady who had sung in the church the night
before! Then Uncle Flatiron was heard growl-
ing because nobody would talk so he could
hear. it

The young man went over and talked with
him, roaring so loud that the rest of them could
hardly hear themselves think ; but Uncle Flat-
iron became almost good-natured,

Pretty soon the Man with the Big Overcoat
suggested that they should have some music,
and asked his sister: to sing for them. Then
how gladly Ben-Hadad’s heart beat! Ie hoped
she would sing what she had the night before.
As she arose, he listencd eagerly for the first
words.

They were these: —

“QO little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie!

Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by.”

How glad he was that he had the beautiful
singer to sing at his party !

Then the Man with the Big Overcoat asked
Sv’VYan what she could sing; she said “Glory,
Mallclujah!” Te said that was about all he
eould sing, and started it. How the old words
rang through the air! For the young man sang
as loud as he could, and his sister sang, and
Father and Mother Hadad sang, and Sa’Yan
thought she was back in her mother’s negro
eabin, and rocked back and forth in the chair
by the fire, her turban and eyes gleaming in
the weird light. In fact they all sang except
Uncle Flatiron, and he growled quite a pleas-

2
ant growl; so much pleasanter than any he
had growled for a long time that the angels
who were listening, I think, counted him as
singing, too.

Then the Man with the Big Overcoat said he
had a big sleigh around the corner, and would
respectfully invite the party to take a Chirist-
mas sleigh-ride. Everybody said Yes. When
they had wrapped themselves up the sleigh was
at the door, and they all piled in, and were tucked
in by fur robes. The Man with the Big Over-
coat sat on the front seat with his sister, and
next came Mother Hadad and Sa’Yan, and be-
hind, Father Ifadad and Unele Flatiron, with
Ben-Iladad between them.

It was a beautiful night. The stars had all
come out bravely now, although they were
quite outshone by the full moon. And the
snow was so crisp and hard, and the sleigh
went so smooth and fast behind the big horses,
and the bells jing!ed so merrily! And I record
it now, for the interest of future generations,
that during the entire ride, Unele Flatiron gave
not one single growl!

Back again at the TIadads’ home, the Man
with the Big Overcoat took Ben-Hadad aside
and showed him awarm shawl, and an overcoat
almost as big as his, that he wanted him to
present, one to Sv’Yan, the other to Uncle
Flatiron, in the name of The Party. Then he
and his sister started to leave, but Father
Hadad motioned them back, and rose.

“Tt is growing late,” he said (this was a mild
way of putting it! Didu’t he know it had
been growing late all the time?), “and the
party must break up. We hope you have had
a pleasant time; we thank those who have
tried to make it more pleasant, and have so
well succeeded. We trust you have all had a
very merry Christmas, and wish you a very
happy New Year.”

That was a long speech for Father Hadad to
make. IJ£ Ben-Hadad had not insisted upon it,
T do not think he would have made it. The
young host sat over by his mother, still smiling
on every one.

“ Mother,” he whispered, “hasn’t it been
nice? Don’t you think it has been a real good-

- will-toward-men party?”

“Listen,” said his mother, for answer. For



HUNGRY VISITORS.

=
the Man with the Big Overcoat was standing
up to speak.

“JT want to thank you all,” said he, “for the
way in which my sister and I have been re-
ceived at the party, and to say a word about
how nearly I think it has succeeded in being a
true Christmas one. For the real spirit of
Christinas is that of the angels’ song, ‘ Glory to
God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-will
toward men.’ If Iam not mistaken that has been
what your hosts have been trying to make this.
Whoever shows love for the poorest of men
gives glory to God, for His Son has said, ¢ In-
asmuch as ye did it unto one of the least of
these my brethren, ye have done it unto me,
Whatever inakes them Jess unhappy is more of
Tis peace on earth; whoever does them a kind-
ness is working out that for which the Star
shone, the angels sang, the Christ-child came

— good-will toward men. So let us go out to-
night with the idea that we wil: make the com-
ing New Year a Christmas one, in that we shall
live in the spirit of this wonderful day.

“And now in bidding you good-by, let me
repeat what my sister has sung to you : —



“No ear may hear His coming,
But in this world of sin,

Where meek souls will receive Him still,
The dear Christ enters in.

Where children pure and happy
Pray to the blessed Child,

Where misery cries out to thee
Son of the Mother mild,

Where Charity stands watching,

And Faith holds wide the door,
The dark night wakes, the glory breaks,
. And Christmas comes once more.”

PaRANETE.



HUNGRY

VISITORS.

he



HER

HER MOTITER’S BIBLE.

By Pansy.

Tr ANY MAN UWATH EARS TO WEAR, LET HIM HEAR.

(Go HOME TO THY FRIENDS, AND TELL THEM HOW GREAT
THINGS THE Loup HATH DONE FOR THEE, AND HATH HAD
COMPASSION ON TILE.



Di Nor APRAID, ONLY BELIEVE.
AND THEY WENT OUT AND PREACHED TILAT MEN SHOULD
REPENT.

H° 1” said Raiph, pausing over a verse
that was heavily marked with blue ink,
“this isa little bit of a fellow, and it doesn’t
seem to say anything. Grandma marked it,
though, as if she thought it was made of gold,”

“What is the verse?” Mrs. Selmser asked,
with a somewhat unsteady voice; there came
to her just then a memory of her dear old
mother bending over the golilen verses, getting
wealth from them; and it made her heart ache
so for a sight of the mother’s face, that it
seemed for a few minutes as though she could
not wait any longer.

« It is ‘Be-not-afraid-only-believe,” said Ralph,
running the words together as though they were
one, and making only a comma at the close.

se Why, that is a lovely verse, I am sure.”

“Well, it doesn’t say anything; doesn’t finish,
you know. What is a fellow to believe?”

“A boy who belongs to the Lord can use the
verse in a great many ways. I heard a minis-
ter say once it was a blank check, ready to use
for any sum that wasneeded. Believe that God
will take care of you anywhere, no matter what
happens. Don’t you sce ad

« Y-e-s’-m,” Ralph said, with a slow drawl,
«but then I don’t understand such wholesale
verses very well; its short, though, and Pm
going to take it for mine.”

All day Jong he didn’t give the verse a
thoneht.
and was bright and happy ; whistling most of
the time when alone, and forgetting that there
was sneha thing as trouble in the world, or that

Ie was busy in school, and at home,

he had oceasion for anybody’s help. Tlowever,
he sneceeded in offending three boys younger
than himself who were generally in mischief of
some sort. They planned a bit of mischief for
this particular day, which Ralph discovered in
time, and spoiled. They were very angry

MOTHER’S BIBLE.

ad
about it, and promised to “ be even with him.”
Ralph laughed, aud whistled, and wondered
what the chaps thought they could do.

By dark he found out.

It was Ralph’s duty to close the windows of
the schoolrooms, after they had been swept and
dusted, see that all was in order for the night,
and close the heavy doors that locked with
spring locks. We was whistling through the
hall, attending to his work, just as twilight was
falling; the sweeper had been delayed, and it
was later than usual. Three empty coal hods
stood by the door of the coal cellar. Ralph
swung them all over his arm, it being his duty
to leave them in the cellar. First he took the
precaution to fasten back the heavy outside
door lest a gust of wind might blowit shut. It
fastened with a chain and hasp, so no wind
could possibly loosen it; then he went swiftly
down the stcep stairs, whistling, “See the con-
quering hero comes.”

“No, he doesn’t!” murmured a low voice

“ He goes, but he doesn’t ‘come’ so
quickly as he thinks.

outside.
Now, Jim, is your time ;
swing to the door; there’s nobody in sight.”
And Jim pushed, keeping Rob back with one
hand, lest he should rattle the chain and give
Ralph warning in time to escape.

The door closed with a dull thud that stopped
the whistling below. Ralph was just ready to
spring up the steps into daylight again, The
minute he heard that thud, he knew that he
was a prisoner; though how the door had got-
ten loose he could not imagine. It wasn’t a
pleasant prospect for a boy, this being shut
into a great dark cellar, with stone walls and
rats for company; feeling pretty certain that
the long night would have to wear away, and
perhaps a great part of the next day before he
would be discovered.

In fact it might be several days; for he re-
membered with sudden terror that it was Fri-
day night, and the eellar need not be entered
again, probably would not be until Monday.
What should he do?. Which turn ?
Would it be possible for him to live in that
damp, dark spot until he was found? Could he
hope to make noise enouch to attract the atten-
tion of any passer-by? But that was folly ;
the building stood back from the read, in

way

the



HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.







centre of large grounds, and the cellar was at
the back part of the building.

It was then and there, sitting on the lowest
step of the cellar stairs, with his elbows on his
knees, and his head in his hands, that Ralph
thought again of the marked verse: “ Be not
> He was afraid; he
owned it to himself. Vere the words for him?

If he only knew wha to believe! He wished
he had talked longer with his mother about it.
He did believe in the great God, and wanted
to be his servant. But was he expected to
believe that God would plan some way to get
him out of that cellar that night? “How
could He!” said poor Ralph to himself. “No-
body comes to the buildings nights, let alone
the cellars. [ve just got to stay here, of course;
but, O dear, it is dreadful! what will mother
think? They will allbe scared; and they won't
know where to look for me, because I ran home,
between times, while I was waiting for the dust-
ing, and J didn’t tell them I’d got to go back
to the schoolhouse. They will think i’m in the
river, and they’ll go to dragging it and have
an awful time; and here I am in this dreadful
cellar! O, dear! I wish I knew what to believe.”

His mother’s voice seemed to sound in his
ears: “ Believe that God will take care of you
anywhere, no matter what happens.” Those
were the very words she said. Did he believe
it? If he did, why was he afraid? minutes passed, which seemed like hours to
Ralph, then he got down on the coal grimed
floor and prayed this prayer: —

“Dear Lord, ’m in awful trouble; I never
was before, but this is awful! I can’t help
being some afraid. But I believe in Thy power
to keep me safe, even here. O, Lord! take
eare of me, and comfort mother, for Jesus’
sake. Amen!”

You will notice that his faith was not strong
enough to pray to be let out of the cellar. He
believed that to be such an exceedingly improb-
able thing as to be almost impossible.

Yet, as the long slow minutes dragged along,
he heard a sound, and started up and listened
as for his life. Was itrats? No,it came from
overhead. Was it burglars? Then would
they come to the cellar, and finding him, kill
him? The cold sweat stood in great drops on

afraid, only believe”

the poor boy’s face. ‘The heavy door was cer-
tamly being tampered with; he heard the
grating of a key in the lock; he heard it slowly
swing back on its hinges; he saw the glimmer
of alantern. Should he try to hide? No, he
wouldn’t ; instead, he almost laughed aloud in
his sudden relief. The tall form of Professor
Fordham was coming down the stairs.

“Tt?s only me, Professor,” he shouted, as the
startled gentleman paused half-way down; “ it’s
only me, Ralph Selmser. I got shut in; but
how came you to come and let me out?”

“ What does all this mean?” said the Pro-

fessor, setting down his lantern. Then there
were explanations to make. When Ralph had
told as much as he knew of his own story,
Professor Fordham said he had been called to
the coal cellar to look at a flue that the janitor
thought needed attention ; that he had stooped
down on his hands and knees to examine it, and
that when he reached home he missed a pocket-
book that was filled with important papers ;
not finding it anywhere else, he had thought of
the coal cellar, and came at once to look for it.

And Ralph, as he hunted about by the light
of the lantern, and finally picked up the lost
book, said in an awe-stricken tone: “How easy
He did it! And I thought He couldn't!”

“ Did what, my boy?” asked the Professor.

Then Ralph’s pale face flushed a little, as he
said, “I was just thinking out loud, Professor.
You see I thought the Lord would take care of
me here, all night, but I didn’t believe he could
plan any way to let me out, before morning,
anyhow, and he did it just as easy! Mother
will think that it all came about through Grand-
mother’s verses; and maybe it did. I’m afraid
mother is awfully scared. What time is it,
Professor Fordham ?”

“A little after six ;” said the Professor, and
Ralph in great astonishment owned that he
thought it was about midnight.

Then they walked home; but I believe you
will be glad to hear that Professor Fordham
said, when he left Ralph, “ We must look inte
this matter. Doors that are chained back don’t
close without hands. I saw three boys skulking
about where they ought not to be, and have
my suspicions; to-morrow we will see what we
can discover.”

4





HIEF FOUND ovT.



4 THIEE FOUSD OUT.







ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.





ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.

By MarGarrer SipNey.

CHAPTER Iv.



iS y
a \ af ARY ELLIS was taking out her bread
zy Al from the oven. The rosy cheeks

bending over the steaming loaf were

“a ‘y not marks of the morning’s busy work

alone; there was the flush of expec-

taney, and a gentle excitement shone in the

brown eves. Any one who had not been told,

could easily liave guessed that Miss Fis had
some anticipated delight in store.

“There, that’s done,” she eried, hurrying
over tu the table with her burden of swect
loaves, “thank fortune. Everything favors me,
and I do verity believe that I shall get started
to Eliza’s by one o’clock.”

Thereupon tue tity kitchen resounded to a
merry din as Maury hurried from one task to
another, ler mind pleasantly intent on the
‘outing before her, her fingers mechanically per-
forming their ne

eis two whole years since Pve- been to
Eliza Smith’s,” she ran on to herself, “and if I
-dow’t go this week, why, it will be another
twelvemonth, like enough, before I start. Lucky
that everybody is well, and that father and the
boys will let me vif; and I don’t believe it will
‘storm, so I am ‘really and truly, as the chi
dren say, going to have a good time.”

«“Tliza Smith’s,” over in Grafton, the other
side of the hill, a good ten-mile drive, was the
Eden to which Miss Ellis’ eyes always turned
whenever she was so presumptuous as to think
of a vacation. It was the home of an old
schoolmate, who from pinafore days, had grown
up to that girlish intimacy with Mary that en-
utled her to be the sharer of all those delicious
seevets fondly supposed to belong to young
ladies alone, and since the two ladies were
now arrived at the age of thirty years, with
no diminution of their friendship, it was fair
to suppose thatit was worth keeping, and really
merited an occasional interchange of visits.

For the past two years, as Mary had re-
marked to herself, she had been disappointed
for one reason and another, and kept from the

: es
longed-for visit she intended to ‘pay at least
onee a year, But now after many attempts it
was at last within her grasp, and she could set
out with a clear conscience, as everything in
the way of provisions was baked up for the
three days she intended to stay away from
home.

With one eye on the clock, Mary bustled
away, reflecting that everything was so far
along in the work that she could soon press out
the vambric ruffles in the neck and sleeves of
her brown merino dress. She had slipped an
iron on to the stove for that purpose, and in a
few moments she was preparing to run up-stairs
to get the gown. Her hand was on the latch,
when she heard a step in the little entry, then
some one stepped into the kitchen.

“Why, Rob Ferris!” she cried, “how you
scared me.”

“IT knocked,” said Rob, “but you didn’t
hear me, so I came in.”

Iie was trembling from suppressed excite-
ment. His eyes shoue like siars, and his hands
twitched in bis cforts to control them.

“What's the matter?” demanded Miss Ellis,
her hand falling from tlie latch, as she surveyed
him exhaustively. “Goodness, Rob, there
hasn’t anything happened to Miss Philena!”

“No,” said the boy. tead that; she sent
it,” and he thrust a folded paper ipto Miss
Eillis’s outstretched palm.

Mary took it wonderingly, and read the
words written in Miss Philena’s cramped hand-
writing at least chree times. Strange te
say it was not tl after she looked up that it
flashed upon her what the request contained in
the note meant to her.

“T can’t do it!” Then she cried passion-
ately, “It’s out of the question.” Then she bit
her lips and coughed as she looked at the boy.
“Well, Rob, you sit down,” she said at last,
kindly; “Pl be back in a minute,” and skipping
over the flat stone that served as a door-step
like a girl, she ran into the barn.

“John— John!” she called at the foot of
the crooked stairs leading up to the loft,
“come down here — do!”

“What’s up?” demanded John, peering
down at her, and pausing in his occupation of
filling a bag with oats,



Â¥



ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.



Godeea os



“Tio come down,” cried Mary impatiently,

and in her excitement crumpling up a letter
she held in her hand— ‘John, it is the most
dreadful thing!”

John dropped the bag and set down the oat-
measure to get over the stairs quickly. Mary
threw berself on the work-bench and silently
put the letter into his hand.

“Whew!” he whistled as he acvomplished
the last word. ‘Well, what are yon going to
do about it, Mary?”

“Stay at home, of course,” said Mary discon-
solately. “The boy must be gotten over to
Freeburg. I’ve got to give up going to Eliza’s.”

“You can’t,” declared John sympathetically.

«JI must,” said Mary, clasping her hands
tightly together to keep a rush of disappointed
words from utterance, and swinging one foot
irritably. “You'll have to take the horse and
carriage and carry him to Freeburg, instead of
driving me to Grafton. There’s no other way.
Now don’t let us talk any more about it.”

John obediently shut his lips fast and waited
for her plan which he knew would he forthcom-
ing presently, and he was not disappointed.
Mary, accustomed to arrange matters of import-
ance for the household, now rapidly lent herself
to the re-adjustment of the journey her brother
was to take, and then she launched into a dis-
cussion of the trouble at the Slocums’ that had
caused all this change of plans,

“To think of binding out that boy to Job
Barker!” she began in a hushed voice. . “ Joel
Slocum must be going down hill pretty fast to
eome to that.”

“The old scoundrel!” cried John between
his tecth. “Mary, there isn’t much loud talk
about, it, “cause Barker is a man of means, and
awfully smartin his farming ; but it’s whispered
around that Jim Bentley — the boy he brought
home from New York State— has been beaten
terribly. The neighbors complained; they get
nervous, folks say, hearing the noise, and know-
ing there’s brutality at work.”

Mary’s cheek flushed with womanly indigna- -

tion. “The brute—oh! to think of Joel

Slocum being determined to let him get Rob.”
“J don’t really suppose Slocum knew any-

thing of the talk about Barker,” said John.
“Well, he ought to,” retorted Mary, with

spirit, “before he bound out a poor defenseless
boy Into his clutches, and that boy bis nephew.”

“Well, Mary,” said her brother slowly, “if
I were you, I'd set to work to get him,” point
ing with his thumb to the house, “over to Free-
burg; then you can sit and talk comfortable.”

“Yowre right, John,” cried Mary, springing
to her feet and swallowing asigh at the thonght
of Eliza Smith’s expectations changed to woe.
* You get ready, and PU put your lunch up,”
aud she sped into the house.

Rob was pacing the kitchen floor, restless
with excitement. He stopped as she came in,
and looked at her, all his heart in his eyes.

“ Rob,” said Mary, going up to him and taking
his hand, “ your Aunt Philena says we are to get
you over to Freeburg, see you on board the
cars, under the care of the conductor, and that
he will put you off at Parkersville, where her
cousin Hetty Slocum lives; she married a
Russell —William Russell — and your aunt feels
that they will do the right thing by you. She
says that she’s given you the address on a bit
of paper she put in your bag of money.”

Rob’s hand involuntarily sought his bag of
treasures, and his eyes shone. It was impossible
for him not to show that he felt the uplifting
of its presence.

“Better not think too much of it, Rob,” ad-
vised Miss Ellis cautiously, “you'll show it if
you do. Well, now, that’s all [ can do for you;
get you off as soon as [can. But you must ea
a bit first.” She ran into the buttery and pres-
ently returned with a generous supply of cold
meat and a good wedge of custard pie. And
making Rob sit down, she put them before him
and then ran out to hurry John once more.

When she came back, the plate was empty,
and Rob had the appearance of one who could
easily have disposed of twice the amount.

“T know what it is to see boys eat,” she de-,
clared, laughingly, ‘* Rob, I’m only too glad to
have you enjoy it,” and she seized his plate and
was soon refilling it.

“Take plenty of time,” she said, coming back ;

“ John’s got to have his lunch yet.”
_ But the next moment John came into the
kitchen: “I shall eat my snack on the way,
Mary. Put up a good one, and plenty of
cheese. We ought to be off this minnte.”



HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.



UER MOTHER’S BIBLE.
By Pansy.

WHOSOEVER WILL COME AFTER ME, LET HIM DENY HIM-
SELF, AND TAKE UP HIS CROSS AND FOLLOW ME.
WHOSOEVER SHALL NOT RECEIVE THE KINGDOM OF Gov
AS A LITTLE CHILD, HE SUALL NOT ENTER THEREIN,
SUFFER THE LITTLE CHILDREN TO COME UNTO ME, AND
FORBID THEM NOT, FOR OF SUCH IS THE KINGDOM OF Gop.
THou Son or DaviD, HAVE MERCY ON ME,

tee rocked back and forth in the little

wooden rocker in front of the fireplace, _

and turned the leaves of the big Bible in search
of his verse for the next day.

“TIere is one that I like,” he said at last,
“because it is marked with red ink. I like red
ink best, and I'd just as soon choose it; that is,
it would be an easy enough one, only it isn’t
likely I could use it; it doesn’t fit me.”

“How can you tell what verse will fit you
to-morrow ?” asked his mother. “ Read it to
me.”

So Ralph read: “ Whosoever will come after
me, let him deny himsel?, and take up his cross
and follow me.”

“ And you think that doesn’t fit you? Why
not? You don’t mean, I hope, that you don’t
belong to those who want to follow Him?”

“QO, no!” said Ralph promptly; “I don’t
mean that, of coure. But, you see, I haven’t
got anything to deny myself. I go to school
now, and I like to go; and my lessons are nice,
and I like tostudy them; and I don’t have any-
thing to do that I wouldn’t just as lives do as
not. A few months ago it might have fitted
me; I had to keep denying myself lots of
things I wanted to do, but now it’s different.”

Mrs. Selmser smiled a peculiar smile, and
sewed away for some minutes before she spoke
again.

“Tf I were you I would take it, ea I
never heard of anybody who really wanted to
live by it that didn’t have chances enough.
You can’t tell, you see, what to-morrow may
do.”

Ralph laughed lightly. “I ain’t afraid,” he
said. “To-morrow’s Saturday, and ’m going
to give Ned aride on mysled, and I’m going to
get oreen things and berries for Mary Jane to

trim up the room for father’s birthday; and
there isn’t a thing to do all day but T’d rather
do than not. But then, I'll take it and see.”

“Wire! fire! fire!” Itwasthatsound repeated
by shrill voices that awoke Ralph several hours
later.

“To-morrow” had already begun; it was
almost two o’clock. Out tumbled Ralph in
eager haste, and was ready, by the time his
father was, to start in search of the fire. It
was a stormy night; a wild March wind was
blowing, and the air was full of fast whirling
snow. Great crowds had gathered at the scene
of the fire, and a wild haa beautiful scene it
was. Ralph stood and watched the flames,
filled with a feeling that, to say the least, was
not regret, when he discovered that the house
which was evidently going to burn to the ground,
was the home where his tormentors lived! The
very boys who had shut him into the school
cellar, and were always doing something to
annoy him.

“Tt isn’t any fault of mine,” he said sturdily,
ashamed that there was a little feeling of glad-
ness in his heart, and yet trying to apologize
for it. “I wouldn’t have set their house on fire
for anything in this world; and I'd put it out,
quicker, if I could. But since it’s got to burn,
I’m glad it belongs to such mean chaps as PREY
instead of to the fellows I like.”

“Get out!” said aman just at Ralph’s elbow.
He had been working with a will, and had just
stopped for breavh. Je explained the meaning
of his words to a man who was with him.

“It’s that little eat; she’s been under my feet
most of the time. Look at her! she’s scared to
death, and the smoke makes her blind. She’il
get killed here if nobody looks after her. Look
at those sparks! They are going to catch on
the side roof now!” and the men were off.

Ralph stood still and looked, not at the flames,
but at the “little cat.” The special pet of those
two boys! Once he told his mother that he
believed ‘those fellows liked their ridiculous
kitten better than they did their little baby
sister.” Now she was dashing about in a wild
way, right under the feet of the flying firemen,
and was certainly in a fair way to be killed.

“Serve ’em right, too,” declared Ralph.
“Think how they treated my Towser only the



other night; humph! think how they treated
me.” Again there came into his heart that
glad feeling. He wouldn’t have hurt the “little
cat”? for anything; but he knew he was glad
she was likely to be hurt. Suddenly there
came to him a thought so surprising that he
whistled, even there, with the flames rising
higher every minute. Wasn’t it, his duty to
“deny himself” that glad feeling, and “take
up his cross” and that little cat and carry her
home out of harm’s way?

“Pshaw!” he said aloud. “ Likely story
that a Bible verse would have anything to do
with a cat! What kind of denying would that
be, anyhow? As if I wanted their old kitten
to be killed, if she can keep herself from it.”

No use, Ralph. Bible verses apply to smaller
creatures than cats; and you know as well as

you need to know, that a follower of Him .

whose words you are quoting, would be merciful
to the smallest and weakest of his creatures.

Suddenly Ralph gave a dart into the midst
of the smoke, being pushed aside and scolded
by an impatient fireman, and being promptly
ordered home by his own father, who had
dashed into the worst of it, and was helping
fight the fire. Ralph went home, very sorry to
miss the rest of the fire; but the “little cat”
trembling as though she had a chill, was tucked
close to his breast, wrapped under his stout
overcoat. He had denied himself the feeling
of satisfaction over the thought that something
belonging to those scamps of boys had come to
grief.

Perhaps you think the boys were very grate-
ful the next day when they found their pet had
been saved. This was the way they told the
story:

“ And don’t you think, with all the rest, we
cane pretty near losing Spot. That Ralph
Selnnser came prowling around and walked off
with her under his coat, as large as you please!
’ No telling what he would have done with her,
only one of the men saw him and told father,
and he went himself and brought her home.
As if it wasn’t enough to have our house burn
down, but we must have things stolen! Ralph
‘pretends that he took her to save her, because
she was dashing right into the fire, and he heard
a man say she would be killed ; but that is stuff

PEOPLE WILL TALK.

and nonsense; as if a cat didn’t know how to
take care of herself.”

So that was their gratitude !

But when Ralph heard of it, he laughed, and
said to his mother: ‘‘T’ll have to hold on to the
verse, mother. I’m going to deny myself the
pleasure of knocking both those fellows over,
and it feels kind of pleasant to hold myself in ;
J rather like it. But you see if I had let that
little cat kill herself, I should have felt just
awful. It’s queer that Bible verses belong even
to cats!”

PEOPLE WILL TALK.

OU may get through the world, but ’twill
be very slow,
If you listen to all that is said as you go;
Yowll be worried and fretted and kept in a
stew.
For meddlesome tongues must have something
to do,
And people will talk.



If quiet and modest, you'll have it presumed
That your humble position is only assumed —
Yow’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing or else you’re
a fool;
But don’t get excited —keep perfectly cool—
For people will talk.

And then if you show the least boldness of heart,

Or a slight inclination to take your own part,

They will call you an upstart, conceited and vain ;

But keep straight ahead—don’t stop to explain—
For people will talk.

If threadbare your dress or old-fashioned your
hat; :

Some one will surely take notice of that,

And hint very strongly that you can’t pay your
WEN

But don’t get excited whatever they say —

For people will talk.

If your dress is the fashion, don’t think to escape,
For they criticise then in a different shape ;
Yowre ahead of your means, or your tailor’s
unpaid ;
But mind your own business, there’s naught to
be made,
For people will talk.

Now, the best way to do is to do as you please,
For your mind, if you have one, will then be at
ease 5
Of course you will meet all sorts of abuse ;
But don’t think to stop them — it ain’t any use—
For people will talk. — Selected.



“AND THERE WERE GIANTS IN THOSE DAYS.”





“AND THERE WERE GIANTS IN
THOSE DAYS.”

TANTS in those days— giants in these —
Giants of wrong and giants of right, -
Giants who stand and giants who fight,
Giants in action, giants at ease.”

So the preacher spoke, and the people heard
With faces lifted, and straining ear,
Eager to listen, eager to hear —

Not losing an eloquent word.

“There are giant sins in these days of ours,
And giants who meet to strike them down,
Winning stars for the heavenly crown:

Giant lives that bloom like the flowers.

“There are giant powers that build up homes
Where the victims of other giants rest,
Helping always up towards his best

The sinner who meckly and humbly comes ;

“There are giant souls who far away
The cross are lifting, a light to be,
For brothers in darkness over the sea,

Whose light is shining on us to-day.

“ There are giants making the earth more bright,
More like the Eden once lost to man;
Welping their God in His every plan

To bring to the world more life and light.

“ But all giants of good have need to fight,
And need of the help of God alone;
If one terrible giant be overthrown,

They must gird on the armor and keep it bright

“Jt is not hopeless; we all may grow
Into great giants to fight and win;
Though little we may do against the sin,
All may do something, that we know

“ For greater is He who ig on our side,
Than the terrible giant so vile and strong —
The giant troubling the world so long:
Heayen’s hosts are with our weak hosts allied.

“ Chariots and horsemen are ’round about,
Though we see no shadow against the sky ;

God will help us, He cannot lie.
Though the giant was strong and stout,

* Rolling his terrible floods of sin
Over the land for years and years,
Making the world a vale of tears,

God is with us, and we shall win.”

The preacher paused, and I thought that he
Looked like a giant himself that day,
Though his face was old, and his hair was

gray 5
And I guessed what that giant could be.

{ knew the giant of sin and shame —
The giant flooding the earth with woe —
And I vowed that to fight him I'd always vo;
For Rum was the terrible giant’s name.

R. E. R. MONFORT, one of the editors

of the Herald and Presbyter, who is

traveling in Scotland, has been visiting Melrose

Abbey, and tells some interesting things about

the old graveyard. Here are the words he
found on one old red tombstone:

THE BARTH GOETH ON THE EARTB
GLISTENING LIKE GOLD.

THE EARTH GOES TO THE EARTH,
SOONER THAN IT WOLD;

THE BART BUILDS ON THE EARTH
CASTLES AND TOWERS,

THE EARTH SAYS TO TINK EARTH,
ALL SHALL BE OURS.

Those lines will bear studying. [ wonder
how many of my readers can tell what they
mean?

Here is another inscription found on a stone
in Greyfriars Churchyard, which fur tenderness
and qcuaintness, and the power of saymey
great deal in a few words, it seems to me would
be hard to excel.

There is first the name and date, which iast.
by the way, is in the year 1518, and then:

SHE WAS— BUT WORDS ARE WANTING TO SAY WHaT
THINK WHAT A WIFE SHOULD BR,
AND SI WAS THAT



THE WAY MY GRANDMOTHER LOOKED ONCE.



THE WAY MY GRANDMOTHER LOOKED ONCE.

i



























it

i
li
te

i i

















































y

7







aR:

P.





I. P.

SN
Sy

OWN EAST — where is that?

Many years ago there lived a man
whose name began with I. P.

He was a farmer, and there he is now,
plowing. The one who made the picture never
saw I. P., or he would never have made just
such a picture of him; for neither himself nor
his team nor his plow locked like that.

Don’t call him a funny old chap who doesn’t
amount to much till you know something about
him.

He was an industrious man, and that cannot
be said of everybody. He worked hard every
day, rain or shine, following his plow or some-
thing else on his little farm.

.He was an honest man, always paying one
hundred cents on the dollar.

He was a brave man, There were savage
Indians in his days

Lore,

which was fastened about his waist, while his
neighbors pulled with might and main at the
other.

Their joy knew no bounds when they saw the
dead bear follow I. P., who had him firmly by
the ears.

He was a loyal man. His country was in
danger. A young man, whose name begun with
P. R., heard that the British were going over to
Concord to destroy the stores there. Mounting
a fleet horse, he rode at the top of his speed,
calling out at every house on the way “The
British are coming! the British are coming!
Get ready for them.”

On and on he galloped till the startling news
spread through all the region.

Word reached brave, loyal old I. P. ashe was
plowing.

“What do you say?” he shouted back to his
hired man who was plowing on the other side































and sometimes it





















































































































































































































was necessary to































































































































































































































meet them in bat-



















tle. He was not
afraid of Indians.

Once he was
captured by them
and bound to a











































































































































































































































































































































































































































































tree. They began
to throw their
sharp tomahawks







at his head to see





























how near to it

















































































they could come



















































without hitting













































































































and enjoy his ter-



















ror as the fierce
blade same whiz-
zing through the air. But somehow he es-
eaped. Almost as bad as the Indians were the
wild beasts of those days.

I. P. did not. fear them, however. Once he
and his neighbors chased a bear into a cave;
but after him went this fearless farmer, gun in
hand.

Far within he saw two eyes glaring at him.
Aiming as nearly between them as he could,
bang went the old musket, and the next minute
out came I. P. drawn by a rope, one end of



AT THE PLOW.

‘of the field and who had called ont, asking I. P.

if he had heard the news of the battle of Lex-
ington.

No sooner did he catch the words “ British ”
and “Lexington” than the horses were un-
hitched, and almost as fast as P. R. rode J. P.
toward Lexington and offered himself to his
country in her hour of peril.

Then came the bloody battle of Breed’s Hill.
I. P. was there in the thickest of the fight, di-
recting and encouraging the soldiers. He was

pe a ie anette ee SE Tek es



I.

Py





one of the generals. Now do you know him?

But what if I should tell you that he taught
‘that little fellow over there by the head of the
horses to plow, so that he became a splendid
farmer and after the war was over and “ Amer-
ica had gained the day” went“ West ” — which
in those days was New York State — and bought
one hundred and sixty acres of land and in a
few years his new farm was worth ten times
more than he paid for it; and he had a large
family of boys, most of whom became good
farmers, and now in our day one of those boys’
boys owns a farm “out West” — where is that ?
-——of fifty-eight thousand acres!

He plans to plow ten thousand acres each

summer. All his horses are—mules. Three
mules to each plow, and twenty miles a day for
each plow. Notawhip onthe farm; no cruelty
to an animal.

Happy mules; happy cattle! Don’t they
look like it in this picture “ At the Dairy Farm” ?

Who knows but grand old I. P. when he
knelt at the family altar and opened his heart to
God a hundred or more years ago, or when he
followed his honest plow and thought and won-
dered what would some day come to his dear
country — who knows, I say, but he had some
glimpse of our times and the wonderful West

withits wonderful farms, churches and school-
houses! Cc. M. L.





- AT THE DAIRY FARM.



GUNS.—SIMPLICITY IN SPEAKING.





GUNS.

NCE there was a man. He had
coarse, long black hair and high cheek
bones; and his skin was the color of
copper. He and his family lived in
the woods and ate wild game. To get the
game he had a gun. It was made of a string
and two sticks.

He could shoot many yards with it. Many a
rabbit, turkey and deer he brought home for
dinner by the aid of his bow and arrow. His
gun was his capital. (Know what that means ?)

Well, the years went by, and there came
another man into that neighborhood. His face
was white, his hair anburn and waving. Fora
time these men lived in peace. But the white
man loved to shoot the wild game, too. He
had a gun made of iron, and he could shoot
farther than the other man, and kill more wild
animals. Can you guess how trouble came?
It came. They began to shoot at each other.
“Hum” would go the arrow through the air
from the Indian’s bow and just graze the white
man’s ear; then at last “flash” and “bang”
from the iron gun and “whiz” goes the bullet
right into the Indian’s head. Poor Indian falls
like the rabbits he once hit, and his wife is now
a widow. What willshe and the children do
for bread and meat?

After this came another white man. His
gun was better still. Strange to say, these two
white men made war with each other. “Flash”
went the powder, and away flew the bullets
and down went the first man, dead. Their
children have ever since been trying to make
bigger and better guns, almost entirely to see
which can hurt the other most, P?’m sorry to tell.

A while ago some of those grown-up chil-
dren went down to a place called Sandy Hook,
not far from New York, to see a big gun.

It is the largest ever made in the United
States. The Indian’s bow and arrow would be
small and light as a feather by the side of this
awful thing. It is all cast-iron, thirty feet
long; its mouth or bore is twelve inches in
diameter; its weight fifty-four tons; its cost
twenty-nine thousand dollars; it throws an
eight hundred pound ball so far and fiercely as
to knock a hole in an iron armament (what’s





that?) a half-mile away. It costs over one
hundred dollars every time it is fired. It took
a year to make it. May it never be aimed at
your rabbit or your head or the great ship on
which you may be riding to London or the city
in which you live.

There’s a greater gun than the Indian’s or
those two white men’s or this last monster.

It is made — not of two sticks and a string
or iron — but of flesh and blood and something
else. Its mouth is the same size as yours. It
can shoot a thousand miles as easily as one, and
hit a thousand marks at the same moment as
easily as one. Its arrows are words, words!
The smallest of these word bullets can make
the world bleed, or heal the world’s wounds.

You are the gun, and you take aim and fire
as many as a thousand times daily, and hearts
bleed or eyes dance with delight every time of
the “Flash, whiz, bang!”

Look out, my lad and girl, with what you
load and how and why you aim and fire.

Uncie CHARLES.

SIMPLICITY IN SPEAKING.

ENJAMIN FRANKLIN, in his autobiog-
raphy, lays down a canon of good breed.
ing in conversation which is worth keeping in
mind. He says that he formed the habit of
expressing himself “in terms of modest diffi.
dence,” never using the words “certainly, un-
doubtedly, or any others that give an air of
positiveness to an opinion,” on subjects that
may possibly be disputed; saying, rather, “It
appears to me, or, I should think it so, or so, if
I am not mistaken.” This habit, he said, was
of great advantage to him in persuading people
to adopt his views, and also helped him to
gather much valuable knowledge which other-
wise would have been withheld. For, as_a
rule, people do not care to impart information
to one who is firmly intrenched in his own
opinions. Young people are very apt to have
a positive, dogmatic way of expressing them-
selves, and should be trained to a moderate, as
well as graceful, use of language. The use of
slang has a tendency toward the error which
Franklin tried to avoid. — Selected.





JUNE

A

S'TUDY.









“.



JUAL STUDY,

’



ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.





ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.
By Marcarer SIDNEY.

CHAPTER VY.

Oe oun ELLIS motioned to Rob with a
RS) hasty hand. “Come on, boy; we have
wed no time to lose.”

res Rob got out of his chair and walked
up to Mary Ann.

“Thank you,” he said simply.

Mary Ann for answer, touched his ruddy
cheek with her lips. ‘“ Now, Rob, you remem-
ber all I have told you.”

“IT won't forget a single word,” declared
Rob, and slapping his breast where the little
bag of money was concealed. Already he felt
the man of affairs, going out into the world, to
hold his own against the strongest.

“Take care, Rob,” warned Mary Ann;
“don’t touch your coat where that bag is; you
mustn't even look as though you thought of
money.”

“Pl take care,” said Rob, feeling quite big
and old. ;

“Because if you don’t,” said Miss Ellis,
“yow'll find out soon to your sorrow that you
haven’t any money. So be sure now.”

This last was said as Rob hoisted himself up
to the seat beside John Ellis, who at once
gathered up the cotton reins, and slapping the
old horse’s back with the doubled-up ends, cried
out, “Glang there, Dandy; we must move
sharp to get this boy safe over to Freeburg.”

Mary Ann shaded her eyes with her hand as
she stood on the flat door stone and watched
them turn the corner. Then she turned and
went quickly into the house, putting up the
corner of her white apron surreptitiously to her
face, as she stepped into the empty kitchen.

“No use to cry for spilt milk, or a spoilt
visit,” she observed wisely, “but I’m not so old
that I don’t feel it when I get a hurt as I have
to-day. But la! what am I talking of when
that poor boy is the only one to be thought of.
Goodness! it’s worth my disappointment to
cheat old Barker out of his prey.”

So reflecting, Miss Ellis speedily put herself
to rigits in her mind, and taking her sewing she





settled down to the afternoon work, as if she ~
had never thought of such a thing as visiting:
her dearest friend, Eliza Smith.

Meanwhile Rob and his deliverer were mak-
ing good time over toward the hill that sepa-
rated the two friends. Several times John
Ellis essayed to impart good advice to the lad
so strangely thrust upon his charity. But the
words always remained unsaid. “They stick
in my throat,” said John to himself as he
silently drove on, “and good reason why. I
never could abide being lectured to when I was
a shaver like him, He'll have to rough it like
the rest of us, and turn out all the better man
for it. Good gracious, here’s mischief! Get
under the bags, Rob, as quick as you can!”

Rob threw himself over the seat, and was in
a trice under the bags of potatoes with which
the floor of the wagon was strewn. But none
too soon. A man’s voice was presently heard
addressing Mr. Ellis, and although nearly
smothered in his close quarters, and with a
mind given over to his own matters, Rob had
no difficulty in recognizing the sharp, high-keyed
voice of Jed Barker, and he shivered with
anger and an instinctive dread that all might
even now be lost.

“ Good-afternoon, John,” said’ Mr. Barker,
pulling up his sorry beast to a dead stop;
“ well, seems to me you’ve took a queer time to
get your potatoes on the road. Goin’ over to
Freeburg ?” m

“Oh! Pm going to fetch the potatoes to
Simmons on the West Road,” said John Hllis
carelessly, which was quite true, but that
errand was to be performed. on the way to Free-
burg. “Looks like a storm, doesn’t it?”
squinting at the sky. i

“JT dno. ’Pears like it will blow oe
Them clouds don’t mean anything, I take it,”
said Mr. Barker with a short laugh. “Well, I
don’t know as I care whether it rains or shines.
I hain’t any business that spiles. The next
thing I do is to change boys” —

“Eh?” said John Ellis coolly.

“Yes; fact is,” said Mr. Barker growing
confidential, “Slocum and I have come to an
agreement to exchange boys. He don’t like his
bargain, and I don’t like mine. So we agreed
to swap. Hee, hee, hee!”

ee aes ees eee Se Bees Ae





ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS. 2



SSS

—————————[£>=[=—[[=[_[==[——[]ue=



“JT don’t understand,” said John, changing
the reins from one hand to the other nerv-
ously.

“Ye see, the case is about here. Stop
shaking your head, you beast you, or Ill fix
you when I get you home,” giving a vicious
pull to the reins. “Tllearn you! The critter
has got a new curbed bit on, and it ain’t what
he likes — but he’ll catch something that don’t
suit him as well if he don’t lock out. Well, I
was saying, why, you know Slocum’s nephew,
that tall, high-strung chap that Mary Slocum
left on his h.nds.”

“ Mary Slocum had an equal division in the
estate, P’ve always heard,” said John quietly.

“Well, s’posin’ she did, that’s no reason her
boy should get anything out of Joel, if it can
be saved,” retorted Barker with an unpleasant
sneer.

“ Whatever Joel Slocum’s faults are, and we
all have ours, cheating isn’t one of them,” ex-
claimed John Ellis hotly.

“Who said it was?” cried Barker coarsely,
and ejecting the tobacco juice with which his
mouth was usually well-filled, to right and left,
“well, leavin’ out motives as to why he wants
to get rid of the boy, the fact still remains that
he is determined to do it, all the same. [ve
got the boy!” Te roared out the last words,
bringing down his grey woollen glove heavily
on his knee. Rob, huddling under the potato
bags, shivered worse than ever, and held his
breath in a terror that nearly made him scream.
The next words were;

“Yes, ’ve got him sure. Joel has at last
signed the agreement, and my fingers are as good
ason the boy. I’m going for him this afternoon;
then look out. Tl take down his airs; ye won’t
any of you know him in a month. Well, I
must be goin’. Hope ye’ll get your potatoes to
Simmons all right. Glang!” With a cruel
eut to the horse’s back, he sprung off at a smart
pace down the road.

John Ellis waited until he heard no sound of
the retreating wagon wheels; then he leaned
over the back of the seat.

“It’s safe now,” he said under his breath.
“ Come,” as Rob, white from his imprisonment
and the shock, dragged himself out of his close
quarters,

“That brute has for once got outwitted,”
said John through his teeth, as Rob slid into
place on the séat. “Well, my boy, we better
whip up, and get you along as smart as we can.”
With that he brought the whip down on Dandy’s
astonished haunches, making him skip over the
frozen road at a remarkable pace, which in due
time brought the two, so singularly connected
as traveling companions, into the town of Free-
bure.

“Now,” said John, drawing a long breath,
“we're in luck if the train for Parkersville
hasn’t gone out.”

Rob sat straight on the old wagon seat, and
gazed out into the gathering dusk. A railroad
journey under any circumstances was an event
in his short life; under the present conditions
he was thrilled through and through at the
mere thought of the experience; and with the
increasing dread of the terror he had barely
escaped, pursuing him, he peered anxiously
over at the little station in front:of which a
knot of men were standing.

“Tias train gone to Parkersville?” shouted
John Ellis, in a tremor almost as great as the
one overpowering Rob.

“No; she ain’t in,” volunteered one man,
throwing a glance down the track: “ five min-
utes late. Here she comes!”

“No time to buy your ticket,” said John
hoarsely. “Jump out. Here, you, hold my
horse, will you?” to the men. “Tl speak to
the conductor; come on, Rob.”

Rob scuttled after, quivering with excitement,
down the platform-length as the train whizzed
up and stopped. John pulled him forward as
the conductor jumped off the step of the pas-
senger coach.

“This boy wants to go to Parkersville. Will
you see him safely there, and tell him when to
get off?” .

« All right,” said the conductor, his mind on
his train, and the lost time he would have to
make up.

“He will pay for his ticket on the train,’
said John; “there wasn’t any time to buy it.”

“ All right,” said the conductor again; and
looking at his watch, “Jump on, my boy.”

“He hasn’t ever traveled any,” said John,
“and you'll have to kinder look out for him.”

?



PUSS AND TOOTENS.



“Yes, yes; I understand,” said the conductor
sharply. ‘Get on, if you are going to. We
don’t wait here all night.”

“Yes, get on,” said John, with a warm grasp
of the brown hand in his; then he gave him a
gentle push. Rob jumped up on the steps, the
conductor waved his hand, and jumped up
beside him, and Rob was adrift in the world,
the face of the last friend who bound him to
the old home, slowly receding from his view.

PUSS AND TOOTENS.

PUSS AND TOOTENS.



RHAPS the boys and girls reading
Pansy would like to hear something
about them? Well, they are little girls
very dear to their papa and mamma,
Fanny or Puss is six years old, while Mary or





Tootens isnearly four. Puss is a busy wee body,
much occupied helping mamma take care of the
house; having papa’sstudy ready for him when he
comes home tired, and looking after his general
comfort. Papa is sure to find his slippers beside
his big chair, and knows his little maiden has
put them there. Puss has also to attend to her
family of dolls, from Edna the eldest, to Rosie
the youngest, and insists upon her children obey-
ing her. She is very motherly, and it distresses
her much when any of them have some
infantile sickness; at least she says this
one or that has. When such a crisis comes
she at once sends for Dr. Jimmy, her
brother eight years old. If Dr. Jimmy
fails in making the child doll better Dr.
Gordon, her five-year-old brother, has to
be called in. Thetwo doctors always make
the sick one well. They feel its pulse, and
would dearly love to look at its tongue.
Dr. Jimmy is gentle in his treatment, while
Dr. Gordon is somewhat heroic. When
her children are all better Mamma Puss
shows her joy by singing to them “Gen-
tle Jesus, meek and mild,” or “ Twinkle,
twinkle, litle star,” and tells them all
sorts of wonderful stories.

Tootens is a good-natured little pudge,
broad as Jong; takes matters very easy,
and when her brothers and sister are romp-
ing is usually found sitting on a stool be-
side papa, a gentleman she innocently im-
acines can do anything, from mending toys
to building houses. Tootens is very proud
and fond of her one doll, called Lucey, and
her papa often hears her saying to Lucy,
“ Jesus loves me, that I know, for the-
Bible tells me so.” This is Tootens’ favor-
ite hymn, and sometimes when dollie is
asleep she marches up and down the par-
lor with her fat, chubby hands behind her
back, singing the verses to herself.

When bedtime comes Puss and Tootens
kneel at mamma’s knee, ask Jesus to take care
of them till morning light, kiss dear papa, and
go off to the Land of Nod, two of the happiest
little girls in Canada.

Another time I will write something more
about them and their brothers.

Puss anp Tootrns’ Papa.





a

“Tf the apples bloomed to-day,
Tt would be pink, and would be May.
Tf great gold roses opened soon,
Then it would be yellow-June 5
If it snowed —O, Lremember!
‘Myould be white, and be December;

Just because its gray and blue,

April! April! thatmeans you.”
Prom “Children’s Almanac.” EvizaBbeta Stuart PaELrs.







THROUGH THE WOODS.



THROUGH THE WOODS.
(A story in two parts.)
PART I.

T was the gray pony that Helen
wanted to take. He was such a
wise horse that there was no need in
thinking about the trains all the time.
Besides, he could follow those bewil-
dering windings through the woods
as well as though he had Jaid out the roads him-
self, if indeed they had been laid out at all.
But just as she was thinking of asking Phillip
to harness for her she heard Mary’s voice say-





to take those rose-cuttings to Aunt Hattie this
afternoon, and I wanted Gray myself.” |

“ Why can’t you take Brownie?” said Mary.
“'There’s Phillip driving into the yard with him
now; he will be ready to go as soon as he hag
had his dinner.”

“ Well,” said Helen after a minute, “I s’pose
Pll have to do that. I hate to drive Brownie
because he doesn’t know the roads; and he
thinks he does and keeps turning where he ought
not. You have to watch him every minute.”

Mary laughed, and said that was good disci-
pline for Helen; that she was too much in-
clined to dream in the daytime. And then
she climbed into her carriage and drove away.



“sTAND OVER!”

ing in a tone of authority, “Stand over!” and
looking from the window saw she was harness-
ing the gray pony to the high carriage.
“Where are you going?” she called, and
Mary answered promptly that she was going to
Lake Minnow to call on the Allen girls.
“O dear!” said Helen, “I promised mamma

Half an hour afterward Helen drove out in
the phaeton. She was going to call for her
dear friend Winnie Chester who was boarding
at the hotel. Under the seat was her little
hand bag with all needed articles for the night,
because she often stayed at Aunt Hattie’s all
night, and Winnie had promised the very next





THROUGH THE WOODS.





—s

time she went with her to stay and enjoy the
new milk from Aunt Hattie’s cow and the cream
muffins she was sure to make.

It was a lovely afternoon. The ride was
thoroughly enjoyed by both girls. Brownie trot-
ted along briskly, although the roads were sandy
and made just the right turnings, as if he had

“I don’t remember any of them,” said Win-
nie; “the roads look alike to me in this country.
Doesn’t Brownie know the way home?”

“ Brownie is not to be depended upon,” said
Helen gravely. “He thinks he knows every-
thing, but he makes dreadful mistakes. That
is the reason I wanted to take Gray. I do get



WHAT THE

heard and resented Helen’s complaint about him.

Aunt Hattie’s was reached in good time and
in safety, but alas! for the plans about new milk
and cream muftins. Aunt Hattie and Uncle
Henry were both away from home. They had
gone to town for the day. The rose-enttings
had to be consigned to Jake, and the two girls
stayed only long enough for Brownie to get a
drink of water; for the roads were heavy, and
twilight fell carly in this part of the country.
They rode along in a leisurely manner, chatting
pleasantly, stopping every little while for ferns
and mosses. Suddenly Helen said:

“Tt is growing dark. The sun has set; did
you know it? I never thought of such a thing,
and we are not near home; where are we, any-
way? I don’t remember this pond, do you?”

GIRLS SAW.

so mixed up on these roads. This doesn’t look
natural to me, but we will drive on a little
farther and see what we come to.”

What they came to was a rough narrow path
which Helen felt certain she had never seen
before. She drove slowly, with a troubled face,
uncertain whether it was best to go on or to
turn around and try to find the way back. To
add to their perplexity the short twilight had
disappeared and it was unmistakably dark. No
moon, and the trees so thick that the stars gave
very little light. They had almost entirely
ceased talking and were occupied, the one in
trying to drive, the other in the vain hope of
seeing something familiar.

“T can’t see at all,” she said at last; “what
shall we do? I don’t know the way home.”



“Wont your people come to find you when
they see how dark it is?” asked Winnie.

“They think we are going to stay at Aunt
Hattie’s,” ssid. Telen, trying to speak bravely,
but feeling her heart beat so hard that it seemed
to her Winnie must hear it. Silence again for
a few minutes, then Winnie exclaimed :

“There’s a dog barking. Somebody must
be coming. Welen, aren’t you afraid?”

“T see a light,” said Helen, in a cheerful voice.
“We are comiug to a house. Iam go glad.”

Was she? In afew minutes more she knew
that she was sorry. A little old log cabin set
down in the woods, no sign of civilization any-
where, unless that tumbied-down cabin stood
for it and half a dozen growling dogs. In the
doorway stood the worst-looking woman the
girls had ever seen, or rather had ever been able
to imagine. Tall, gaunt, with a long thin chin,
peaked nese, and strong red arms bare to the
elbows. She was speaking to an uucouth man
or bey around whon the dogs frolicked as
though they knew him. The only relief to the
picture was the sight of a very little eirl who
seemed not at all afraid of the dogs, and who
welcomed the ragged, silly-looking man with a
gurvle of Inughter. At sight of the carriage
the whole company, dogs included, turned and
gave undividel attention.

“Lost your way, ch?” said the woman;
“that’s bad such a dark night as this. I reckon
the old man himself couldu’t find the read to
Pine Loch to-night, and] he knows most, roads in
this country. You'll just have to stay all night.
Treckon we can put you somewhere ; you need
daylight for getting homie, that’s certain.
Yowre much as three mile onto’ your way.”

In a silence that was very near despair, the
two girls stepped down from the phaeton,
shrinking from the dogs in a tremble of terror,
despite the woman’s loud assurance that they
wouldn’t “hurt a hair of their heads.? No
sooner were they inside the cabin than, but for
the dogs, they would have rushed out again.
Never had they dreamed of such a place for
human beings to live; rough logs fer walls,
rough boards for floors; an open fireplace for a
stove, over which a pot hung at this minute
filled with a mixture so vile-smelling that the
two frightened girls had almost. to hold their

THROUGH THE WOODS.



breaths to keep from fainting. At least that
was the way it appeared to them; though really
it was nothing worse than the amel! of lard that
was scorching. Utterly refusing to cat a mouth.
ful of the Llack-looking bread that was urged
upon them, and too frightened to do much
besides looking at one another, they were thank-
ful when the woman told them they looked
“tuckered out” and she “reckoned they had
better turn in for the night.” To this ond she
lighted what was really a pine torch, though
the girls did not know it, and prepared to climb
the stairease which was nothin but a ladder.
Meantime the one she called her “ old man”
had come in and the situation had been ex-
plained to him, he nodding wisely at intervals
and saying: “Just so, just so.” Poor Helen
thoueht he looked worse than his wite, and she
followed the woman up the ladder stairs in
haste to get away from the shagey man. Oh!
what would their mothers have thought if they
had seen the room into which their cherished
daughters were shown for the night. The bed-
stead was made of two boxes with slats across,
and a tick filled with dried moss and leaves.
There was a broken chair, and a box that

-served for a table. These were the only at-

tempts at furniture. The one little window had
no sash, nothing but a window shutter through
whose haifopen mouth the baying of those
awtul dogs could be distinctly heard.

“T reckon you dunno’? how to Indna@e a
torch,” said the woman, “so I woi’t leave it for
you, but the light will come up through the
chinks in the logs encagh for you to get into
bed by. I reckon there’s kivers enough. The
nights are mighty cold nowadays.”

Not a word had the friehtened girls to
answer, but the moment the woman and her
torch had disappeared down the ladder they
flew into each other’s arms and sobbed as though
their hearts would break.

“Pm afraid to go to bed,” murmured Winnie,
“and I’m afraid to sit up. We can’t stay here,
Melen. Let’s slip out and ran away.”

“Wecan’t,” whispered Helen; “those awful
dogs— just hear them!” and she shook like a
leaf. “Only think, Winnie, mamma supposes
we are safe in bed in Aunt Hattie’s pretty
room.” Pansy.



no “ i

A BIBLE LESSON.



A BIBLE Lesson. (Krom the painting by Mfrs. Alma-Tadema.)





HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.





HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.
By Pansy.

REJOICE GREATLY, O DAUGHTER oF Zion; sHoUT, O
DAUGHTER OF JERUSALEM}; BEHOLD, THY KING COMETH
UNTO THER,

Has CAME UNTO HIS OWN, AND HIS OWN RECEIVED HIM
NOT.

LOVE IS THE FULFILLING OF THE LAW.

Bur I say unro you, THAT IN THIS PLACE IS ONE
GREATER THAN THE TEMPLE.

H° !” said Ralph, “I’ve got a speck of a
verse this time, and I don’t see much
sense to it, I must say.”

“Read it out,” said his mother, sewing rapidly.
“Tt must be a queer verse if it hasn’t much sense.
Ts it one of Grandmother’s?”

“Q, yes! marked round andround. One, two,



“WHAT IF IIR STOULD !”

three —it is just seven words: ‘Love is the ful-
filling of the law.’ ”

“Tt has plenty of sense, I think. What docs
it say to you?”

“Why, it says,” said Ralph, laughing, “that if

I love you, it doesn’t make any matter whether
I mind you or not. Well, if that’s true, it’s a
nice idea. Shall we try it, mother? [li agree
to love you, right straight through, and then

ee ee ee eee ee
you won’t care about the minding, you see.”

“But I don’t see any such thing. It doesn’t
say that to me, Ralph; and no more it didn’t to
Grandmother; she was very particular about the
minding. What it says is, that if you love folks
enough, you will besure to keep their laws, just
because you love them.”

“ S’pose their laws aren’t worth keeping ?”

“ Yes, I see,” said Mrs. Selmser, stopping to
bite the end of her thread, “my explanation
wasn’t good; there’s no ‘ supposing’ any such
thing in this case, because it is talking about
His laws, and all of them are worth keeping.”

“Well,” said Ralph, after a thoughtful pause,
“JT don’t see how that would make a boy keep
to rules, and things.”

“Just you try it to-morrow,” his mother said,
“and see how many things that verse will fit.”

“To-morrow ” was one of the
worst days in the year for a boy
to keep in exactly the right
track. It was “April fool’s
day,” and it seemed to be well
named; for every boy at least,
as well as some of the girls,
acted as foolish as possible.

} Being a boy, and as full of
| fun as any of them, Ralph had
his temptations, but, on the
whole, got through the day
pretty well, and congratulated
4] himself on the way home, that
-he had had “lots of fun, and
hadn’t done anything very dread-
ful, either.”
| Just around the corner, on
Newton Street, he came plump
upon Jerry Smith.

Jerry had set up business but
a short time before, and was
doing his best to make a living,
selling bunches of carly spring flowers, choice
bits of moss, and lichen, and indeed anything
he could find in the woods or out of it, to sell.
He really worked very hard; sometimes under
most discouraging circumstances ; having been
known to tramp all day long without making a
penny. On this particular occasion he looked
very funny indeed to Ralph. He was bare-
footed, though the spring day was not any too



HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.

°







warm for comfort; he had seated himself in
the shelter of a wall, his hat had fallen off, hig
mouth had fallen open, and Jerry was fast
asleep. ‘Poor fellow, he had been up since day-
light working hard, and selling little; this was
one of his bad days. f

But the only thought Ralph had at first, was
how funny the fellow looked sitting there in
broad daylight, sound asleep. After a moment,
came another thought. Jerry’s mouth stood so
invitingly open. What if he should pop into
it the brown bug he was carrying home for
Miss Edwards’ collection! He could easily get
her another, and what delicious fun it would
be to see Jerry jump and sputter, and sneeze,
and all but choke over that unexpected morsel.

_ “Tt’s a clean little fellow, and not poison, nor
anything.”

This Ralph explained to himself, in reply to
seven inconvenient words which came suddenly
to mind — Grandmother’s marked words: “Love
is the fulfilling of the law.”

“Pshaw!” he added impatiently as the seven
words kept repeating themselves in a kind of
steady undertone. “What sense is there in
saying that, all the while. As if this bug had
anything to do with ‘love,’-or law, and as if
the law was about Jerry, anyhow. I know all
the Commandments, and there isn’t a word in
them about a bug. It isn’t a bad bug, and
he won’t swallow it, either, of course.”

It’s of no use, Ralph. You know too much
about “Grandmother's Bible” to be caught by any
such weak arguments. As distinctly as though
that had been his verse for the day instead of
the other, there came trooping into Ralph’s
mind the words: “ Whatsoever ye would that
men should do to you, do ye even so to them.”

Here was a law not inthe Ten Commandments
in so many words, but spoken by the same voice
of authority.

“Well,” said Ralph reflectively, “I’m not
afraid of brown bugs—not nice clean fellows
like this one. I wouldn’t mind, maybe.” The
last word put in asasort of after thought, spoken
more slowly than the others. He worked the toe
of his strong old shoe deep into the mud while
he stood and thought. Visions of himself in
Jerry’s place, came to him; Jerry who had
probably had very little breakfast, and no dinner

to speak of; Jerry, barefooted, and shivery, try-
ing to sell things that people didn’t want; J erry
who had no nice hot supper waiting for him at
home. If such a strange thing should happen
as that he should ever sit on the street corner
asleep under like circumstances, would he like
to have a fat brown bug put slyly into his
opén mouth by a giggling boy? That was the
question.

“No,” said this honest boy slowly, “I just
wouldn’t.”

Well, then, “Love is the fulfilling of the law.”
Did he love Jerry enough to obey this law for
his sake, and forego his fun? The fact was, he
didn’t believe that he loved Jerry at all; Jerry
might be well enough for those who liked him,
but Ralph had never exactly approved of him
in any way.

Suddenly a curious look came into the boy’s
eyes. Just at that moment this question dawned
upon him: Ralph Selmser, do you love the
Lord Jesus Christ enough to fulfill his law?
It is that wonderful Jesus who cares about
Jerry Smith, and would not have an uncom-
fortable thing done to him. If you do honestly
love him, you will fulfill his law even in what
you consider so small a matter as this.

Back went the bug into Ralph’s pocket. It
had had a narrow escape, but Miss Edwards
was sure of it now for her collection. Ralph
dived his hand into the other pocket and drew
therefrom a lovely square of golden gingerbread.
He had been pumping water for Mrs. Ebenezer
Tucker, and she had given him a large piece of
gingerbread in return. Carefully he broke off
a generous “chunk” and deftly poked it into
Jerry’s open mouth, then dodged behind a
corner.

“Ah! ugh! whissch!” sputtered Jerry, sit-
ting up straight and bringing both hands to his
mouth to remove the obstruction. Then he
stared at it, then rubbed his eyes and looked
about him in all directions, a much bewildered
boy. Suddenly a broad smile spread over his
freckled face.

“Tm blessed,” he said aloud, “if I havent
been asleep, and there’s been an April shower,
and it has rained gingerbread! ”

Whereupon he put the chunk back into his
large mouth.



ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.



=





ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.
By Marearrr Sipnuey.

CHAPTER VL
yy OB gazed at the figure on the platform
(XN) gradually growing smaller to his view
as the train whizzed slowly out of the
little station, then turned, and with a
sinking heart stumbled into the car. It was
only half-filled, and without difficulty he selected
a seat and tried to compose himself as best he
might, to this new and tremendous experience
so suddenly thrust upon him. And as the speed
of the train increased he was astonished to find
instead of the dismay that had been his on part-
ing with John, a feeling of exhilaration taking
possession of him; so much so that he could re-
joice at every revolution of the car-wheels
bearing him off so swiftly.

Was he not his own master, with a bag of
money in his coat, going out to make his future
and shake his fist at evil fortune? Rob threw
back his brown head and involuntarily laid his
hand on the place where the gold was concealed.
Then he remembered, and twitched away his
hand, casting a wide glance around to see if he
were observed.. But he could not so easily con-
trol his imagination. The wildest of visions
danced before his excited eyes. He was even
to shake hands with the Mayor of Fairport
before he got through with making himself.
Perhaps he would be the Mayor himself — or
Governor, who could tell? With that Rob-sank
back in his seat overpowered in the delicious
thought.

“Fare!” said the conductor, punching him
sharply.

“Hey?” said Rob, looking up.

“Fare!” The conductor bestowed another
punch, seeing him only half waked up. “Oh!
you're the boy I was to look out for. Well,
hurry up; can’t wait all day.”

Rob still stared awkwardly, twisting his
brown fingers. If he had asked for a ticket he
would have understood.

“Have you a ticket?” demanded the con-
ductor harshly. “If you haven’t any money
Til put you off at the next station.”



“Oh! let the kid ride,” said a young man in
the seat back. “First time, you know, his
mother let him out. Hee, hee, hee!”

“JT have plenty of money, thank you,” de-
clared Rob proudly, including his interceder
in the glance he bestowed on the train official,
and forgetting Miss Ellis’s charge to use the silver
dollar in his pocket, he threw open his coat,
dragged out the bag of gold, and shaking out a
five dollar piece, he held it triumphantly up
before the conductor’s face. ‘There! take my
pay out of that.”

Conductor Riggs took a good look at the boy.
“Where are you going to?” he demanded
quickly.

“To Parkersville,” contributed Rob, thrilling
at the thought that he was holding such business
converse, and stating his plans like a man.

“J s’pose it’s all right,” said the conductor,
taking the gold bit between a slow thumb and
finger, “but I’m not sure that I ought not to
send you right back. At any rate, Pl give you
this advice: don’t be so quick to show your
money.” He leaned over as he said these last
words, and sent them dowr Rob’s brown ear,
till they seemed to burn into the boy’s brain.

Rob started. A hot flush of mingled shame,
at so soon forgetting the instructions plentifully
furnished him and a vague terror at the con-
ductor’s manner, now seized him. He silently
took the change counted out to him, and afraid
to put it in the bag, dropped it into the pocket
with the silver dollar, against which it rattled
merrily.

“ Going far?” asked.a voice; and Rob, gath-

ered up into the corner by the window, turned _

to see the young man who had advised the con-
ductor to let him go ticket free.

“Yes—no,” said Rob, showing no pleasure
at the chance of making a new acquaintance.

“ Ah!” the stranger dropped easily into the
seat by the boy’s side.

“ Well, now, I can remember, and ’twarn’t
such a very long time ago neither, when I was
a chap like youaleaving home. It comes hard
now, don’t it?” He leaned forward and peered
into the boy’s face. But Rob did not answer.

“But then, I soon got over that,” said the
young man, throwing back his coat with a hand
that had more rings upon it than traces of soap



ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.



and water. “ Yousee when a boy sets out to be
aman there’s a lot of work to do, and he hain’t
no time to suck lis thumbs. Going to Parkers-
ville, T believe?” he brought up confidentially.

Rob was obliged to confess that this was his
élestination.

“ Well, there ain’t much to be seen there;
only a small place, that hain’t grown much in
the last ten years,” said the young man, as if
watching the progress of towns was his chief

eccupation. “If you want to see things buzz,
yowd better go to New York. I tell you, the
dirt flies there.”

“Where’s New York?” asked Rob, betrayed
into curiosity by the delicious power of finding
out the hitherto unknowable.

- now, who could tell him things.
he learn all he could?

“New York? Well, I should smile,” said
the stranger, then concealing the contempt of
his exclamation, “Oh! well, I wasn’t as young
-as you when I first saw the metropolis. If you
hain’t ever seen New York, you better git up
and git there the next chance you have. I tell
you, yowre made when you’re once there.”

Rob turned hot, then cold. The glittering
possibilities dazzled him and he lost what little
head he possessed at first, and before many
moments were over, had communicated enough
of his intentions to easily allow the other to
guess the rest.

“ Now, I tell you what,” exclaimed the young
man, when this drawing out had been accom-
plished and clapping his companion on the back,
“yowre too smart a boy to bury yourself in
that old hole of a Parkersville.

Flere was a man,
Why shouldn’t

I can put you
in the way of making your fortune in a year or
You ain’t the first boy Pve helped up, not
by ajug full. I like you, and Pll do it.
way, old fellow, what’s your name?”
Roh hesitated as it now flashed across him
the danger that lay in the disclosure of his real

80.

By the

self. After he had onee safely reached his
cousi’s no matter who knew his name and his.
tory. But until then, he must be careful.

“T ouess there’s some reason why you want
to keep shady; eh, pal?” suggested the other
in a low voice.

“Tye done nothing Pm ashamed of,” cried
Rob hotly.

——————X—

“Td just as lief anybody’d know my name,”
said his companion; “it’s John Smith, andI don’t
care who knows it.”

But Rob was not to be caught, and he closed
his lips tightly.

“Tucky Pve got to get off at Parkersville,”
said John Smith presently, as the train slowed
up. “Now I can put you in the way of finding
your cousin’s house; then ll just run ahead
and look in on my old father.”

“Do your folks live here?” asked Rob, think-
ing himself quite lucky in finding such a friendly
hand, and surprised that he had not found this
out sooner. !

“Ya-as. Got an old father there. Pretty
rich he is, and he wanted me to stay to home
and take his business — but la! ’twas too dull
for John Smith, so I was off to New York.
Pm going home now for a bit of a visit, then
I’m back to Wall Street again” —

“ Parkersville!”? shouted the brakeman, put-
ting his headin the door. Rob for his life could
not have told what the man uttered, but his
companion bestowed a friendly push upon him,
and getting upon legs that were stiff and unac-
customed to travel, the boy followed his new
friend down the car-aisle and out to the bustle
of the station.

Two minutes later the conductor rushed in, an
impatient frown on his face. “ Why, where’s
that boy?” he cried, confronting Rob’s vacant
seat. ‘J forgot to call the greenhorn when we
reached Parkersville.”

“ He got out,” volunteered a woman across
the aisle, “with that young-man who was his
friend.”

“The one who was sitting back of him?”
demanded the conductor sharply.

“Yes; he was at first, but they got dreadful
intimate, and they went out together.”

The conductor’s color changed and he bit his
lip. But no one knew from anything he said
who Rob’s seatmate was. .And a nervous pas-
senger pulling his coat as he passed her seat, to
ask for the dozenth time when the train would
arrive at Frankport, he was furnished an oppor-
tunity to expend all his annoyance.

Meanwhile Rob and his friend strolled along
Main Street until they reached a corner where
a few bottles in the window seductively labeled



A COLOSSAL BLOSSOM.



choice wine and brandy, with Sample Room
above in glittering letters, brought John Smith’s
feet to a sudden standstill.

“By the way,” he exclaimed, with one of the
hearty claps by which he had already made
known his affection for Rob, “ we must drop in
and see my brother,” and he pulled the boy
along a few steps toward the store.

“Js this your brother’s store?” asked Rob,
running his eyes over the window and its con-
tents.

“Yes,” said John Smith.
fellow.” But Rob stood still.

“|| wait for you out here,” said Rob.

“No,no! Come ahead; what you afraid of Pa

“Nothing, only I'll wait for you here.” The
country lad now planted both feet so firmly on
the ground that the other said briskly “Oh!
well, never mind. I'll see you on your way and
get you all safe at your cousin’s, then PII run
back to my brother’s. Come ahead,” and he
fell into step with the boy.

“Come in, old

“Tt’s too bad for you to go with me,” began |

Rob. “P’raps I can find it alone.”

“No, yon can’t,” said John Smith; “it’s
awful hard to find it. Jim, my brother, won’t
care. He'll wait and.’*twon’t take me long to
run back. Now, your cousin lives off here,”
hurrying the boy down a side street and doub-
ling around that into a narrow lane.

“T thought they lived on the big street,” said
Rob, stumbling after.

“ Well, this is the nearest way,” said John
Smith, rushing ahead. “ You trust me, and
yowll come out all right.”

Rob instinctively put his hand to his coat and
held it fast. But it was too late.
his new friend suddenly paused, and in the angle
of a high, ill-looking tenement, dealt him a
stunning blow on the forehead.

“You young villain, hand over that money!”
hissed John Smith, seizing him by the throat.
“ Quick, or Pl kill you!”

But Rob hung like a faithful dog to his trust,
holding his coat close, obliging John Smith to
tear it open by one vigorous lunge.

“Take that, now, you scamp!” and with a
parting blow he gathered Rob’s money-bag up
and lost himself in the tangle of tenement
houses he knew so well how to thread.

In a minute

= ———— |

A COLOSSAL BLOSSOM.

N the farthest southeastern island of the
Philippine group, Mindinao, upon one of
its mountains, Parag, in the neighborhood of
the highest peak on the island, the volcano Apo,
a party of botanical and ethnographical ex-
plorers found recently at the height of twenty-
five hundred feet above the sea level, a colossal
flower.

The discoverer, Doctor Scha-
denberg, could scarcely believe his eyes when
he saw amid the low-growing bushes the im-
mense buds of this flower, like gigantic brown
cabbage heads. But he was still more aston-
ished when he found a specimen in full bloom,
a five-petaled flower nearly a yard in diameter
—as large as a carriage wheel, in fact. This
enormous blossom was borne on a sort of vine
creeping on the ground, It was known by the
native who accompanied Dr. Schadenberg, who
called it bo-o. The party had no scale by which
the weight of the flower could be ascertained,
but they improvised a swinging scale, using
their boxes and specimens as weights. Weigh-
ing these when opportunity served, it was found
that a single flower weighed over twenty-two
pounds.

It was impossible to transport the fresh
flower, so the travelers photographed it and
dried a number of its leaves by the heat of a
fire. Dr. Schadenberg then sent the photo-
graphs and dried specimens to the Royal Botan-
ical Gardens at Breslau, where the learned
director immediately recognized it as a species
of rafflesia, a plant formerly discovered in
Sumatra and named after the English governor,
Sir Stamford Raffles. The new flower was ac-
cordingly named Rafilesia Schadenbergia.

The five petals of this immense flower are
oval and creamy white and grow around a
centre filled with countless long violet-hued
stamens, thicker and longer in the female, or
fertile flowers, than in the infertile. The fertil-
ization is accomplished by insects, whose larvae:
breed in the decaying flesh of its thick petals.
The fertile flower develops a soft, berrylike
fruit, in which countless seeds are embedded.
The flower exhales a poisonous gas even when
first opened. — Selected.

Alexander





THE WAY TILEY RN

THEIR LIVING.















































































































THE WAY THEY EARN THEIR LIVING,



TWO TROUBLESOME KITTENS.



tz smallest light, just like a little star
< twinkling in the far-away sky. Maud
~ had been asleep aud dreamed a terrible
dream. She thought she had a kitten with two
heads, one where the tail ought to be, following
her down the stairs, down the long hall and out
on the porch. Instead of the usual “Meow ”
it had said to her in a little squeaking voice,
Maud told a lie! Maud told a lie!”

Now she was wide awake ard up in her little
bed, but although she knew there was no truth
in dreams and that kittens never had two
mouths and that she was not on the lawn
in the darkness, she was trembling like a
leaf and felt that she could not possibly
tie down and go to sleep again. J can
tell you just what was the matter; she
knew that if the kitten had been there
and had said those words they would have
been truc, and the kitten not being able
to talk did not take away the sad feel-
ing that she had told a le. “I did not
exactly tell a lie either,” she said to her-
self, “but I lived it, and that is just the
same, and I must see mamma.”

This is the way it happened: Maud
and the kittens had been having the wild-
est kind of a frolic out on the lawn the
night before. She had never seen Sport
act so cunning, and ag for Racer she did
not know that kittens could run go fast.
In the midst of their fun Mary had called
her to open the side gate for the baby’s

carriage, and to run upstairs and get the baby’s ~

sack from the nursery. On her way down she
could Lear her mother’s voice in the sewing-
room. It was growing dusk and Maud had a
slight ccld. She thought of both these things
and felt sure that when her mother heard her
step on the stairs she would say: “ Maudie don’t
go out any more to-night, the dew is falling.”
But Maudie wanted to go out and finish her
frolic with the kittens. What should she do?
You would never guess what she did, and I
hate to have to tell you, but the sorrowful truth
is that she ran back to the nursery, took a pretty

TWO TROUBLESOME KITTENS.

‘little wad of pink cotton that she had remem-

bered seeing on the shelf there and poked great
pieces of itin her ears; then she tramped down
the stairs and through the hall as fast as she
could go. She felt almost certain that her
mother spoke her name, but she stuffed the pink
cotton closer in her pretty ears and sped on.

Then when mamma asked her, half an hour
aiterwards, with grave face:

“Maud, didm’t you hear mamina call when
yon passed through the halla little while ago?
Didw’t you hear mamma tell you not to go out
again?” Maudie looked up with her great
earnest cyes and said ;

“No, mamina, I didn’t hear you at all.” She
thought she was telling the truth, but now, in the
darkness, she knows she looked and acted a lie.



pn a

MAUD I8 TROUBLISD.

Happy Maud, to discover before it was too
late that she could not look and act a lie and be
at rest in her heart. ITappy Maud to have de-
cided then and there that she would tell inamma
all ahout it before she tried to sleep again.
Happy little Maud to have been kissed and for-
given, and to have whispered her soft:

“ Dear Jesus, please forgive me, and don’t let
me use any more pink cotton ever. Amen.”
Then Maud’s head dropped on her pillow and
with a relieved little sigh she fell asleep, and
no kittens with two heads troubled her rest.

Pansy, |

.



|

SE ES an

:



PUNISHING AN ELE PHANT.—THE HARD TEXT.



UNISHING AN ELEPHANT.

ae elephants resemble men in their lia-

bility to sudden outbursts of passion, and
in their exhibition of remorse when, the passion
having subsided, they see the results of their
violenttemper, An illustration of an elephant’s
violence snd contrition is given by General
George Bell, in his “Rough Notes of an Old
Soldier,” written while he was serving in India.

While the party was in camp, a Mahout went
with his elephant to cut forage. As he was
binding it in bundles, the elephant began to help
himself and knocked about the bundles already
tied up.

The Mahout punished the beast for his dis-
obedience by a blow on the shins, which so en-
raged the elephant that he seized the man with
his trunk, dashed him to the ground and tram-
pled him to death.

No sooner had he killed his keeper than he
repented, roared and bolted for the jungle to
hide himself. Six other elephants, guided by

their Mahouts, followed him. On being driven.

into a corner he surrendered, and was led into
camp a prisoner, and chains were placed on his
legs.

Then came his punishment. An elephant
was placed on cither side, each holding a heavy
iron chain. As the dead body of the Mahout
was laid on the grass before hin, the clephant
roared loudly, being perfectly aware of what he
had done.

A Mahout ordered the two elephants to pun-
ish the murderer. Lifting the two heavy chains
high in the air, with their trunks they whipped
him with these iron whips until he made the
camp echo with his roars of pain. Te was
then picketed by himself, and an iron chain at-
tached to his hind leg, which he dragged after
him on the march, — Selected.

Do you know a people in Burmah called the
Karens? It is said that they have sent thirty
thousand dollars in one year to the Baptist Mis-
sionary society, to be used for foreign missions !
Don’t you think Burmah would better send
some missionaries to this country to teach us
how to give?

THE HARD TEXT.
(Like.)

Ye are the salt of the carth.— Matt. v. 13.

F course you know that salt is used tc save
things; meat, for example. And you
know that ye — Christians — are not galt in sach
asense. Suppose you use the little word like,
as one does a key, and see how many such texts
you can unlock, thus: Ye are like salt. Now
see, if you can, what likeness there is between
salt and Christinns,

Then try this dite on verse fourteen. Try it
on Matt vii. 15: vi. 18; John x. 14,7: xv. 1.
Into ever so many such verses put this key, dike,
and quickly the door of difficulty will fly open.
Look, and you will find this very key in Matt.
xiii. 81, 88, 44: xxiii. 27; James i. 6.





HELEN’S SACRIFICE.





HE was feeding Sport the kitten with
asilver spoon, smiling over the curious
3 way in which the little pink tongue
lapped up the creamy drops.

Tabby, the mother, meantime sitting on the
easy chair, with her tail curled gracefully over
her paws, looked on, well pleased with the pere
formance. She had enjoyed her saucer of milk,
having eaten it in her own fashion, without any
spoon, a way that she very much preferred.
But every one to his taste, and if her Sport was
to be brought up to use silver spoons, why, she
was willing.

Before Sport’s supper was over, Mrs. Car-
penter locked in as she passed the hall.
“TTelen,” she said, “I don’t like to have Tabby
on that chair; I don’t especially like to have
eats in this room, any way; and, my dear, you
should not use the table spoons for the kitten!”

“ Why not, mamma? She is just as clean as
any of us; and her little pink tongue laps up
the milk in such a cunning way. She is very
fond of cream; this is nearly all cream I am
giving her to-night, and she likes it much better
than milk.”

“Which reminds me,” said Mrs. Carpenter,
« that I have something to tell you. The Park-



HELEN’S SACRIFICE.

mans sent to-day to know if we could let them
have milk; their Susie is not at all well, and
the doctor has ordered milk for her; but they
can get none, anywhere. I told them your own
litle cow that Grandma gave you was the only
one giving milk now, and that you had the dis-
posing of it yourself, and I would ask you as
soon as you came home.”

“ Well, but, mamma,” said Helen, in a half
reproachful tone, “how could we spare any?
We use every bit of the milk ourselves, and do
not have enough.”

“ Of course we could only spare it by sacritic-
ing, dear; we are willing to do so, if you want
to accommodate little Susy. But I felt as
though, since you had been promised the entire
management of the milk, you should do the
planning yourself.”

Silence on Helen’s part for some minutes,
then a long-drawn sigh; then this:

“TJ suppose, mamma, Tabby and Sport might
go without milk for awhile, though I don’t see
how they can when they have always lived on
it. It does seem as though there ought to be
milk somewhere besides ut our house!”

Mrs. Carpenter said not a word.

“But if you think best,” said Helen, after
another pause, “they can do without for awhile,
I suppose.”

“T certainly think we should accommodate
a sick neighbor if we can,” said Mrs. Car-
penter. “Then I will send them word they
can have a pint a day. Thatis about what you
give Tabby and Sport now; it will give Susy a
spoonful or two of cream, which will be better
than none.” :

This plan was carried out; the next day at
the supper table Mrs. Carpenter, as she helped
Helen to her second glass of rich milk, said:
“ Mrs. Parkman is very grateful for her pint of
milk; she says Susy relishes the cream from it
better than anything they have tried. She ex-
pressed so much gratitude for the accommoda-
tion, that it was almost embarrassing.”

“She should have expressed it to Tabby and
Sport,” said Mr, Carpenter; “as nearly as | can
learn, they are the ones who are sacrificing for
Susy’s benefit; they certainly deserve a vote of
thanks; but as for the rest of us, I do not use
milk, and cannot therefore join the cats in their

benevolence. I think it should be explained te
Susy to whom the gratitude is due.”

“Papa,” said Helen, her cheeks very red, “I
will go without my milk if Susy needs it; I did
not think.”

“The cream from a pint of milk is hardly
enough nourishment for a child who can take
nothing else,” Mr. Carpenter said gravely. “Tf
my daughter would sacrifice for herself, as well
as for her kittens, awhile, I certainly think it
would be more in keeping with the rule by
which she ought to live.”

So Helen joined Tabby and Sport in their
sacrifice and knew for three weeks what it was
to live without milk.

“Tt is harder for the kittens than for me,”
she said to her mother, “ because J can see that
the milk is doing Susy good avd they don’t
know anything about it; they just think I am
hateful, I suppose, because I won’t give it to
them.” This sentence was followed by one of
Helen’s long pauses. Then she said in a grave
tone, “ Mamma, I have just thought of some-
thing very strange. What if the things we
have to giveup, that we want, and that we don’t
understand why we can’t have them — what if
the reasons for doing withont them, are as plain
to the angels as the reason the kittens should
not have milk is plain to me? Only we are
like the kittens about some things, and don’t
understand. Do you know what I mean,
mamma? I can’t explain it very well.”

“T think I do,” Mrs. Carpenter said, smiling.
“Your kittens are very good teachers. They
helped you to apply the Golden Rule to your
own life; now it seems they are leading you to
higher lessons still.”

“Cats have their place,” said Helen, after a
little with great gravity, “but I suppose they
can’t be like people; and I suppose people
shouldn’t be like them.”
“ Myra Sparvrorp.

Herr is a hint from the Princess Maud, of
Wales. She picks up all the peacock feathers
about the palace grounds, makes them into fans,
and fire-screens, and sells them at fairs. What
does she do with the money thus earned?
Why, every cent of it goes for benevolence.



|



BOWING AND MOWING.—*PASS THE PEPPER.”



SOWING AND MOWING.

E careful what you sow, my boy,
For seed that’s sown will grow,
And what you scatter, day by day,
Will bring you joy or woe.

For sowing and growing,

Then reaping and mowing,
Are the surest things that’s known,

And sighing and crying,

And sorrow undying,
Will never change seed that is sown.

Be watchful of your words, my boy,
Be careful of your acts,
For words can cut, and deeds bring blood,
And wounds are stubborn facts.
Whether sleeping or weeping,
Or weary watch keeping,
The seed that is sown still will grow;
The rose brings new roses;
The thorn-tree discloses
Its thorns as an index of woe.

Be careful of your friends, my boy,
Nor walk and mate with vice ;
“The boy is father to the man”;
Then fly when sins entice!
The seed one is sowing
Through time will be growing,
And each one must gather his own ;
In joy or in sorrow,
To-day or to-morrow,
Yow ll reap what your right hand has sown!
Mary M. ANDERSEN.

“PASS THE PEPPER.”
we Ue

‘ was a late snowstorm. April had
$ come with sunny skies, indeed March
Me having come in like a lion had gone out
“Vike a lamb, and already Linda had
taken a walk down the garden paths and
planned her work, only waiting for a few more
hours of sunshine before beginning to arrange
her flower beds. But, to her surprise, and in-
- deed to the surprise of most people, that morn-
ing of the very day when she hoped to set at

work she looked out upon a world white with

aay
new-fallen snow.
back the tears.

“QO dear!” she said, ‘‘I was so tired of snow,
and now the ground is all covered. Mamma,
do you think we will have summer at all?”

Being reassured by her mother’s words of
cheer Linda concluded to dress and make the
best of it. After breakfast she went out to feed
her doves which came flocking around the door
waiting for their breakfast. As she threw out
the crumbs and chattered to them in response
to their cooing, Harry Burr came along and
stopped to join in the chatter. As Linda threw
out the last of her crumbs a thought came to
her which she fancied would be a good thing to
carry out.

“ Just wait a minute, Harry,” she said, and
she ran in to consult her mother. She was
back again in a moment and was saying to
Harry who stood leaning upon a stick he had
picked up somewhere — ITarry was always pick-
ing up something — “larry, mamma says it
would be very nice, and I want you and Bertha
to come over and spend the day; will you come?
You see this snowstorm spoils all the things
Bertha and I had planned to do, and if you
would only come we could get up something in-
teresting. Papa will be away all day, and
mama says Bertha and I may get the dinner

Linda could scarcely keer

all ourselves.”

At this Harry laughed. “That would be an
inducement. But I think Pll put some cookies
in my pocket; I don’t know about your cooking,
nor Bertha’s either.”

“ Oh! I know how to make a lot of things; I
learned out.of books. Say, will you come?”

“ Perhaps; Ill tell Bertha as soon as I get
back from the office.” And he went whistling
away while Linda, sure of her visitors, set about
her preparations. First she must make out her
bill of fare. But mamma suggested that Bertha
should help about that if she was to help cook
So she waited patiently until her
friend appeared. Then they talked of roast
turkey and all the accompaniments. But at
length Linda’s mother suggested that their
plans if carried out would take all their time,
there would be no one to entertain Harry:
so at last they decided to adopt Harry’s sug-
gestion, and have an oyster stew with a salad

the dinner.





THE

SPRING

FRESHET.





or some other simple dish. Mamma asked to

be allowed to provide the dessert, and thus it
tamed out that the two little cooks had not very
much to do, safter all, Dinner was served
promptly and was pronounced quite satisfactory.
Mamma made only one criticisn :

“f think you forgot the pepper, Linda;
please pass the pepper.”

“Which will you have, mamma — black,
white or cayenne ?”

“What is the difference between them?”
asked Bertha.

“Pin sure I don’t know,” sang out Linda with
a merry little laugh, “ only that one is red and
the others are black and white.”

“Well, that is quite a difference,” said
Bertha.

“Oh! now, Bertha has made up her mind to
find out something and there will be no peace
for anybody until she has her curiosity gratified aie

“But I want a piece of bread,” said Linda,
reaching out for the article.

“Vinda Walters! Miss Dallas says puns are
in bad taste,” exclaimed Bertha.

Linda only laughed at that, and turning to
Mrs. Walters she said, “ Now, mamma, tell us
about pepper, please. I want to know now that
Bertha has suggested the question.”

“Well, to begin with, we have really but two
kinds of pepper, or but one kind, for our red or
cayenne pepper is not a pepper, but belongs to
the genus capsicum, while the black and white
peppers are the same thing. The plant of
which pepper is the fruit is a climbing plant
with a woody stein, cultivated in tropical coun-
tries, perhaps more extensively in Sumatra than
elsewhere. The fruit is a red berry which
turns black in drying. For some reason which
T cannot explain, the natives tried the effect of
souking the berries in water until the outer or
dark coat pecled off and left the berries white
or light colored. These they dried and sold as
anew kind of pepper, while it is really the same
as the black, with less strength because deprived
of its outer coat in which much of the pungency
is contained. Pepper is very common nowa-
days, but in ancient times it was considered
quite a luxury and a small quantity of pepper
was thought to be a very suitable gift to bring

to one’s sovereion.”

“ How very queer,” said Linda.

“You see, fashions and customs change,”
with a smile.

“7 should think so,” remarked Harry.

“The red or cayenne pepper is much more
pungent than the others.
small tree and is prepared by drying the seeds
of the fruit which are afterwards mixed with
flour and baked in small cakes, and later ground

It grows upon a

again and put up for inarket.” - :
“Thank you very much,” said Bertha, as Ars.

Walters ended.

have told us when I ask any one to ‘pass the

pepper?!” Wirmor ConpEE.

“T shall remember what you



THE SPRING FRESHET.

()" ! tis house-cleaning day on the mountain,
And grand sweeping-day on the plain!
Mother Nature is doing the business
With a scrubbing-brush made of the rain.

The brooklets and streamlets and rivulets,
She uses them cach for her broom ;

And sweeps away all the old year’s dust,
Making ready for May-time’s fresh bloom.

She washes the trees and the bushes,
She beats up her carpets of leaves,
She scrubs well the rocks and the pebbles,
And for more worlds to clean she still
erieves.

With her broom made from caseades and snow:
banks, ;
And mad brooks and wild spring-time rain,
She hurries with gusts and with torrents
To sweep out and dust the broad plain.

And as house-cleaning day with us ever
Is a most disagreeable season,

We groan and we scold at this weather,
That wearies us all beyond reason.

But when she is through, and the sun shines
On the gay world, so sparkling and bright,
We can all join in saying, “ Dear mother,
Your house-cleaning day was all right!”
Henen M. Wiystow.



fa.

is
3
>
Aa
a
A
<
a
e
a
4
is!
i
a











HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.





HER MOTHERS BIBLE.
By Pansy.

TAKE YE HEED, WATCH AND PRAY ; FOR YE KNOW NOT
WHEN THE TIME Is.

SHE HATH DONE WHAT SHE COULD

THIS DO IN REMEMBRANCE OF ME,

BerrayrEst rHou THE SON OF MAN WITH A KISS ?

ee was in avery happy state of mind.

He had just reached home from an even-
ing spent at the Barwoods’ elegant home ; the
handsomest place in town. He had had an
elegant supper and been shown all sorts of kind
attentions from the young ladies of the house,
and altogether he felt quite satisfied with him-
self, and eager to tell his mother and Mary Jane
the whole story.

“Tt’s the biggest hall I ever saw,” he ex-
plained. “It isn’t just a hall, you know; they
have seats in it, great big old-fashioned arm

>

chairs, and there are pictures and bronze statues
and all sorts of things.

“There is one queer-looking fellow in bronze,
standing by the hall window, that is just as
natural as life. I declare, I couldn’t help think-
ing some of the time that he was alive. But he
has a horrid face. I don’t know why anybody
should want an image of him, I’m sure.

‘Mary Jane, it is well you were not there;
you would have been scared dreadfully over the
dog; he’s the biggest dog Lever saw. His name
is Nero. He goes out with Miss Elice when she
takes a walk. Miss Elice is Sherman’s sister, -
you know; she seems more like his mother. |
guess he has to ask her about things just as
though she were; his mother is dead, you see.
But T do wish you could see that splendid hall
and those lovely wide stairs, and the curtains at
the top and everything.”

Ralph drew a sigh of satisfaction, and
stopped for breath. Then Mary Jane asked a
question.

“Wow came Sherman Barwood to ask you
home with him, all on a sudden?”

“How should I know?” answered Ralph, a
little uneasily. ‘Because he wanted to, [I sup-
‘pose. He’s lonesome in that great big house, I
guess. Some of the boys go home with him
quite often.”

“But he never asked you before, and he is
o.der than you, isn’t he?”

“Not so very much,” said Ralph, turning the
leaves of the big Bible. ‘ Mother, where shal

Tread to-night?” Then, as though Mary Jane’s.

questions annoyed him a little, he returned to
them with a half-laugh: “Of course, Mary
Jane, if he were ever going to invite me, there
would have to be a first time.”

“Ts he a good boy, Ralph?”

It was Mrs. Selmser who asked this question,
looking up from her busy needle, at the boy’s
flushed face for a moment.

“Good enough, I guess,” spoken rather relue-
tantly. Then, catching his mother’s eye,
“ Well, I mean -—sometimes I think he is not
so very honest about things. Gcts a peek into
his books if he can, you know, and wants to
stand well in class without digging for it. But
lots of the fellows do that. Here’s a verse
marked in green ink; how queer-it looks!
Grandmother hardly ever used green ink,
‘Take ye heed, watch and pray; for ye know
not when the time is. That time hasn’t come
yet, has it? What an awful while those men
would have had to wait if they had lived till
now. Im glad they found out about it without
waiting so long.”

Mary Jane laughed ; her brother’s ideas often
seemed to -her very queer; but Mrs. Seimser
was still looking sober over what Ralph had
said before.

“T don’t suppose they had to wait long for a
chance to use the first part of the verse,” she
said significantly, “and for that matter, the last
half can be used to fit into every-day life. We
don’t know when the Lord is coming; that’s
something to watch for; but we don’t know
when danger is coming to us and we need to
watch and pray about that. Maybe you need
to do it over Sherman Barwood and his sudden
friendship for you. I don’t think I care to have
you very great friends with a boy who isn’t
strictly honest and honorable if he does live in
such a grand house.”

“QO, mother!” said Ralph. But having made
this answer he fuund he had nothing more to
say just then. He chose the first verse of the
reading for his, because his mother wanted him
to do so. not because he felt that he needed to





HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.



watch especially, and went off to bed presently
quite satisfied with himself and his friendship
with Sherman Barwood.

Neither did he take any special heed in that
direction. On the contrary he met the handsome
boy’skindnesses more than half-way and winked
at or endured in silence several things which he
knew were wrong, calling theim to himself “not
exactly right,” instead of that short plain word
“ wrong.”

There came a day when he had reason to re-
member his verse, and his mother’s warning,
and Mary Jane’s questions.

There was no getting away from the fact that
he was in serious trouble. The spring examin-
ations were drawing near; every boy in his
class was very anxious indeed to get into the
next grade and some of them were very much
afraid they would not.

“If a fellow could get a peep at the examin-.

ation questions that are lying all this while in
Professor Morehead’s desk he might know
which way to turn to get ready,” said Sherman
Barwood one evening, when Ralph had gone
home with him to get a certain book he had
been promised, and was lingering to enjoy the
beauty and luxury about him. Te often went
home with Sherman Barwood nowadays; was
indeed quite as intimate with him as any bey in
school, and could not help being just a little
proud of Sherman’s evident fondness for his
socicty.

“ Are they there?” asked Ralph, in an inter-
ested tone.

“O yes! safe and sound. Tucked away in
that black-covered book which shuts with a
rubber band. I saw the Professor look them
over the other day, then rubber them up in that
book and push them in under the papers at the
right hand, as though he was afraid if he didn’t
bury them deep cnough some of us fellows
would peep through the keyhole and eet an
idea.”

Ralph laughed.

*«] wish we could,” he said carelessly. “ Es-
pecially Dd like a peep at the philosophy
questions ; just enough to know which section
the most of them were from. Ifeel the shak-
est in that direction of any.”

“J don’t see what particular harm it would

do to let us know which section we are to be
examined in,” said Sherman, still with the air of
one who was only interested because his friend
was. “They don’t expect the class to be
equally well posted on the entire bouk, of course ;
if they would just hint which sections to review
most carefully it might help us and be ail right
enough, for what I can see.”

Ralph laughed. He could “see” that it
wouldn’t be right at all, but what was the use
in saying so? Of course Sherman didn’t mean
that, anyway.

Well, the days passed, and one evening
Ralph was called to Professor Morehead’s room
and asked some questions and told some facts
which perfectly overwhelmed him.

It was quite a long interview, but I can give
it to you in a few words. The examination
papers had been tampered with, some of them;
among others the philosophy questions had
been, the Professor had reason to think, copied.
Certain scraps of paper had been found which
made him pretty sure of it and which also led
him to fear he knew something about who had
done it.

Then he asked the astonished Ralph a few
bewildering questions :

* Are you a particular friend of Sherman
Barwood 2?”

“Why,” said Ralph, blushing, he could hardly
have told for what reason, “I am pretty welt
acquainted with him.”

« And you go to his house quite often? Were
you there on Tuesday evening last?” Ralph
considered and said that he was. “Did youand
Sherman have some talk about the examination
papers?”

“Yes, sir.”

Ralph knew now that his face was very red
indeed.

“ And did you say that you would like to see
the philosophy papers; that you felt shaky
about that study; and that you thought it
would be fair enough to get an idea of what
section they were drawn from chiefly?”

“ No, sir,” said Ralph eagerly. “TI did not
say that; not that last part. I—vyou see, sir,
he — well, we had bot been talking bout the
examination, and” —

And Ralph went through the story as well as



MOE

lian

he could, floundering a @ood deal, embarrassed
by his very effort to recall his exaet words, and
ter cntirely plain to
usa, by the feeling
ihe had

The Be Nosece find assured linn

Professor
that
inter-

to make the mat
Morel
he was
rupted at last.
that that was all he wishel to
had more clues now than he anededds
was his duty to tell Ralph that some very gra
testimony had been brought against himself, but
that he might rest assured the matter should

rend 5 confused,

not cs otiusitnes heen
knows that he
that it
ve

7



RS B

bes

i



n
aa

that he could understand] something of the bit-
terness of that awful betrayal by his own expe.
rience. Had not
something a little like it to him?
coufidence and then repeating the words that he

Sherman Barwood done

Getihig his

had said carelessly as though they were in enr-
nest, and even adding to them words of his own
which Ralph had not thought of saying.

Oh! if he had only “taken heed” ag his
mother and Mary Jane hinted might be ueces-
sary, and not been so vain over this friendship,

ea

“THE BIGGEST HALL I EVER SAW.?

be sifted to the utmost and the truth discovered
if possible.

Then Ralph bad gone home to his mother
with a choking fecling at his throat and indig-
nation too great for tears. Do you wonder that
as he turned the leaves of Grandmother’s Bible
he stopped over the marked verse “ Betrayest
though the Son of man with a kiss!” and felt

he might never have fallen into this terrible
trouble and disgrace.

As it was, it seemed to the poor fellow that
he could not possibly wait for the investigation
which Professor Morchead had promised.



THERE is nothing evil but what is within us;
the rest is either natural or accidental.



THROUGH

THE WOODS.



THROUGH THE WOODS.

(A story in two parts.)

PART IL



ba

<2? EB will never be there again,” said
Winnie, “nor at home either.
are robbers.
wee looks. They have got us in here to
steal our clothes, and my chain and your pin
with a real diamond in it. They will take all
we have and then they will kill us and our
people will never know what became of us.”
“Oh! don’t,” said Helen ina whisper so loud
that 1t was almost a shriek.

Ne
Y

These
T know they are by their

“You are horrid



TUIS TIME JOB MOUNTED GUARD.

and dreadful, Winnie Chester, to say such
things.”

“QO dear! how cold iam. Let us lie down.
We can’t be any worse off than we are now. We
will keep all our clothes on and just lie down in
each other's arms, and we wowt slecp a wink,
only just watch, and if we hear them coming
we will jump up and yell with all our might ;
maybe somebody will hear us and come.”

The first part of this plan was at once carried
into effect. Shuddering so that they could
hardly stand they yet contrived to stumble over

to the bed. Crawling between the covers that
the woman had turned down and covering their
heads, they gave themselves up to the most
hearty crying they had done for years, lark!
there were sounds of persons moving about in
the room below. The two girls hushed their
sobs the better to hear and be ready for the
screams they were resolved to give. 1 was not
reasonable to suppose that any one could hear
them away out in the woods save the family of
whom they stood in fear, still they meant to
try it.

“ Efush!” said Tielen, in a warning whisper,
though Winnie was as still as possible. The
moving about had ceased and all was still for a
moment. Then the gruff voice of the dreadful-
lvoking old man could be distinctly heard
through the wide cracks in the log house.

This was what he said:

“QO, Lord! here we are again at the
end of another day, asking for the same
Thou knowest we are in trouble,
and that we have tried hard and made a
failure of it. What we need now is help
to be willing to fail. We've done our
level best and we want to be willing to
have Thee do just what ought to be done
even if it does seem hard to us. Take
care of us to-night and the young ones
who lost their way, and give us strength
to get through to-morrow, for Christ’s
sake. Amen.”

The listeners upstairs were very still.
The nervous tremblings and sobs had
ceased. Presently Winnie whispered :

“Tm not a bit afraid, are you?”

“Not a speck,” said Helen bravely ; oy.
don’t think he’s such a very bad-looking
old man, do you? And this bed is real clean
if itishard. Isay, Winnie, lct’s go to sleep.”

And they went.

Very early in the morning the baying of the
dogs and the shouting of the little girl, to say
nothing of the eruf— voice of the man and the
shrill voice of the woman, awakened our two
travelers. The first thing they did was to look
at one another and laugh.

“Isn't is funny?” said Helen. “Tm glad
mamma thinks we are safe at Aunt Tattie’s.
What a dreadful night they would have had if

things.



THROUGH

a ee saa ee



they had expeeted us home. Winnie, what
silly creatures we were to Lesoscared last night.
Wow t we haveastory to tell when we get home?”
lated with this, they sprang up and set
about making their toilets with al speetl.

“There you be as bright as roses,” was the
greeting they received from the woman down
stairs. She was frying pork, and the cabin was
full of a greasy, smoky smell.

“Want some breakfast, I dare say,” she
added, as the girls stood in doubt as to where
to go or what do do. “ Well, your pony has
had his and feels all ready for another tramp,
aw’ Dick, he’s waiting to take you to the forks of
the road and put you on the right trail; I reckon
you will know your way from there. Dick is
my boy. We ain’t as bright as some boys. He
had a fall when he was a little fellow and hurt
his head. Ile was the cutest young one up to
that time that you ever see, since that he never
could learn much, But he’s good, Dick is, an’
he knows the way to the forks of the road as
well as the next one, and can be depended on.”
Now you just set by and get your breakfast,
The rest of us eat a good while ago. You were
so tuckered out last night I thought Pd let
you sleep. I’m sorry we ain’t no milk to offer
you, but we have to sell every drop of milk we
have nowdays to make out the bill we owe for
doctoring. Dick was dreadful sick, you know,
and ran up a large bill, and we won’t have milk
to pay for it after to-day either.”

Whereupon she drew a heavy sigh.

“Why not?” ventured Helen. “Aren’t you
going to keep your cow?”

“T reackon not, Miss. Our cow’s got to go to
pay another debt. That’s what the man says.
You see we had sickness for a spell and got
dreadful lehind. ife’s waited a good spell for
his money and he says it’s no kind of use wait-
ing any longer, and he’ll have to take the cow.
The critter’s worth more money than that, but
then, what can poor folks do?” The sentence
closed with another sigh.

“Tt’s forty dollars we owe, and my man has
scoured the woods to raise it and he can’t, so
old Brindle will have to go, an’ she’s worth
sixty dollars, easy.”

The girls looked at one another with almost
bewildered faces and said not a word. It was

THE WOODS.

the first time it had ever dawned upon their
mind that forty dollars or the want of it could
make so much trouble. To these children of
rich fathers it seemed a very small sum indeed.

The crisp fried pork and corn bread were
really not so bad cating, after all, and the girls.
did the meal full justice. In less than an hour
afterwards they were driving briskly along the
road. Brownie pricked up his ears and discoy-
ered that his driver was in haste and there was
no use in trying to mope. At the forks of the
road Helen dismissed her guide, assuring him
that she knew every step of the way now.

What a story they had to tell. It seemed as
though they would never have done describing
the road and the darkness, the cabin, the do
the torches, the fright, and the breakfast.

“Papa,” said Winnie, “they are in such
trouble just for the want of forty dollars. Only
think what a little bit of money to make so
much unhappiness! Papa, can’t we help them
in some way? They were so good to us.”

“T should think we might,” said papa heartily.
“Tam sure we ought never to forget the poor
man’s kindness to our little girl.”

By afternoon it was all arranged. The two
fathers had met_and talked and planned, and
Helen and Winnie were on the road to the cabin
with a carefully sealed envelope in charge.
This time Job, the coachman, mounted ouard
and kept a careful eye to the road. There was
not the slightest danger that Job would lose his
way, and the girls were very willing to have hie
company. Kind as the people in the cabin had
been they had no wish to repeat the experiment
of the night before. Great was the astonish-
ment of the woman (and the does) when the
little pony carriage drove into the yard, and
coming out to see what was wanted she saw
the faces of her two guests.

“Wor pity’s sake!” she said. “ Ain’t you two
got home yet? But that ain’t the same critter

oS
P85,

you had this morning.”

‘No, ma’am,” langhed Helen ; “ this is Gray.
O yes’m! we’ve been home. We just came
to bring you this from our. fathers. They say
it is theit ‘thank you’ for being so kind to us
last night.”

“This” was the envelope in which were in-
closed forty dollars in shining gold. Pawsy.

oe



|
|
|
|
|



BABY’S

A CHRISTMAS DINNER.

4X3 NE, two, three, four kitties! Muff is
’ the old mother cat. She is very big
and has a long tail. She has three

little kittens. One is white as snow;



her eyes are blue, her paws are soft as
silk, her name is Snowball.

Dash is black as a coal, with little streaks
of white. [lis fur is very shiny.

Dot is black and white both. Ter face is
white and her paws are white. Her back is
black.

Snowball is a good little puss. She does
not cry or fret. She does not pout when her
mother tells her she cannot go out of doors
any more that
night. She runs
off to her little
bed in the basket
and curls herself
up like a ball and
soon she is sound
asleep. She lets
Baby pull her ears
and tail. She
does not, bite or
scratch Baby.

Dot is a funny
kittie. She runs
round and round

after her tail.

CORNER.

“Dash, go to bed this minute!” he rung and
hides behind the door.

When Christmas day came, Cook gave
Mother Muff and her kittens a nice dinner.
They had turkey bones and chicken bones with
good meat on them. They had some nice bits
of mince pie, and a big piece of plun pudding,
and some oysters. Oh! such a dinner. All
the kitties opened their eyes wide when they.
saw it.

“Now, children,” said Mother Muff, “ you
must have good manners. You must not begin
to eat until I tell you to. You must not eat
too fast. You must not make a noise with
your lips.”

Snowball and Dot waited, and were good



She never got it

,

yet. She catches

flies and she rans

after Grandmia’s ball. She jumps on the back
of Grandpas chair and tiekles his ear. She
scampers and jumps and rolls over and plays
as hard as she can all day long.

Dash is sometimes a naughty kittie. He
jumps into the flower bed and breaks down the
roses. He scratches the baby. He steals
meat from the cook. When his mother SRYS:



MUFF AND HER CIUILDREN.

kitties, but naughty Dash jumped right into
the plate of dinner.

Then Mother Muff said: “Dash, you are a
very bad cat! Get out of that plate quick!
You must be punished! You must go out be-
hind the woodshed and stay while your sisters
eat their dinners.”

So Snowball and Dot and their mother ate



THE ANGELS’ SONG. ig



their dinners, but poor Dash hang his tail “Good-will toward men!” the angels sang,

= aye : rind, Hy page Foht rs “8
between his legs and went off crying. That starry night so long ago ;
: a , ‘ Mh a assnoe whic! hey . y a
By and by Dash put his head in at the door, The eon which they brought, so sweet,

: 5 : f 4 Shall eer be spread — God wills it so.
and said: “ Mew!” Hismother said: “Tf you ! 5 <
can be good now, you may come and eat your
: “ Good-will toward men!” o’er y
Enea fe ; y - e yard men! a1 all the earth
“ i ‘ Shall sti e our sweet Christinas song, —
So Dash came and ate his diuner. He was ,,, ; ; id
The strains, re-echoed im our hearts,
g ittle cat all the rest of that day.
a good little cat all the rest of oe day Be sung the whole year jong.
Mrs. C. M. Livixeston.

“ Good-will! good-will!” they sweetly chime:

THE ANGELS’ SONG. “ Toward men” the choras sweet ;
Their tones, if followed on with care,
(A Christmas Carol) Will lead to Jesus’ feet.

G LORY to God!” the angels sang,

‘ So this, our Christmas carol song
That starry night so long ago ; d 2

f So old, yet ever new
>Mong Bethlehom’s hills the echoes rang, iz of ?

And eer shall ring — God wills it so. IPL, Sag (Oy? aa ES
Now sung by living true, —
“ Glory to God!”? may stil be sung,
May still be echoed in the heart, We take, to Jead us on through life,
Wherever Christ’s true glory reigns, In discord, melody, and rest,
Where’er love is 1 welcome part. Until we join the angel-choir, *
Where we may sing the best.
With every loving word or thought, :
With every deed of kindvess done, & Glory to Gad!” which -
New strains are added to the hymn, inc Se ene)
And “Glory to God!” again is sung. I hat starry night so long ago,
With — “ Peace on earth, good-will toward
With each submission to God’s will, nee a ees
Whose will is ever best and right, Shall e’er be sung — God wills it so!
With each up-yielding of our hearts,
We glorify him in His sight. The three-thought song the shepherds heard
We hear from Christ, in heaven above,
"Twas “peace on earth” the angels brought, And o’er the earth we'll send the word a
That starry night su long ago; Of peace and joy and love.
The lovely Jesson which they taught
, aes 1 rs 1 oT ee es
Men e’er shail teach — God wills it so! The glorious Star the Wise Men saw,
That led from East te Bethlehem, i

For “peace on earth ” may still he spread: s :
I y ! . Shall Jead us to Messinh’s feet,

"Twas Christ’s most precious gift to men, Rata eee tnen hoe oiens
g ehtness it gav :

And peace must reign from Christmas first
Until He come again.
The gifts they brought the Christ new-born

With always peace, and never strife, Were gold and frankincense and myrrh:
Along our sometimes Weary way, We offer loving hearts, and true,
Each life would be a Christmas life, From every Christmas worshiper.

Kach day a Christmas day. PARANETE.



Full Text
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 'E20080515_AAAAFN' PACKAGE 'UF00081957_00001' INGEST_TIME '2008-05-18T15:36:36-04:00'
AGREEMENT_INFO ACCOUNT 'UF' PROJECT 'UFDC'
DISSEMINATION_REQUEST NAME 'disseminate request placed' TIME '2013-12-09T17:13:08-05:00' NOTE 'request id: 298339; Dissemination from Lois and also Judy Russel see RT# 21871' AGENT 'Stephen'
finished' '2013-12-18T05:44:52-05:00' '' 'SYSTEM'
FILES
FILE SIZE '875539' DFID 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMCL' ORIGIN 'DEPOSITOR' PATH 'sip-files00000.jp2'
MESSAGE_DIGEST ALGORITHM 'MD5' 2428b741bd42d7261b6e052f83ad4229
'SHA-1' bde0afec3d031bd5f4823461dd42aa84730d563e
EVENT '2011-12-13T06:22:08-05:00' OUTCOME 'success'
PROCEDURE describe
'144521' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMCM' 'sip-files00000.jpg'
ad1055ea303b8d31244ce6ab13f20d59
4b1e6462c06ec00aeea6252829fd0a736bef16f4
'2011-12-13T06:21:02-05:00'
describe
'3306' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMCN' 'sip-files00000.pro'
dd85ad615d58755381a11748932ecfce
01a11d19ac12afec9df814446b30097d2e6b022c
'2011-12-13T06:22:42-05:00'
describe
'35229' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMCO' 'sip-files00000.QC.jpg'
960f03e17b9848dd2a5302c00090e75d
2d106c55ba20b71f85173494264571f4e5122331
describe
'21037968' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMCP' 'sip-files00000.tif'
15302cf475c53577cdd7997b6dc05726
864139b661225eecf52a132e37e37c7c25457a5d
'2011-12-13T06:19:49-05:00'
describe
'159' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMCQ' 'sip-files00000.txt'
717d613486d80d023fbc8e636254ae88
5901c3e09468a5cad62974c906b89bc3127a6021
'2011-12-13T06:21:54-05:00'
describe
WARNING CODE 'Daitss::Anomaly' Invalid character
'9280' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMCR' 'sip-files00000thm.jpg'
4e58ec225f5983c75a853e14a0197913
f79228ff2e8cb3beb73ad7c6f7ddccd77fbb618a
'2011-12-13T06:21:44-05:00'
describe
'802067' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMCS' 'sip-files00001.jp2'
fb4623d2bef89dbe9765a76cd18b2f70
5509b8d3e1e0a5b9cc60929f805c5e3743328e89
'2011-12-13T06:21:31-05:00'
describe
'152114' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMCT' 'sip-files00001.jpg'
6c391db3cae9ce0937ac8549e77138f0
71293a33c0e2ee7cae008db26643f86c56a01c4e
'2011-12-13T06:19:26-05:00'
describe
'153368' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMCU' 'sip-files00001.pro'
1c01552c6f2a5751a272b5bf0e29ba41
541333fb9d944d98b148802bf4703f6903a42884
'2011-12-13T06:19:46-05:00'
describe
'35088' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMCV' 'sip-files00001.QC.jpg'
4ce5bd966bcf76cdb30bfaf44b762ad8
8f6d08f639fbaf418decd4814bbc3166f17cd585
'2011-12-13T06:22:37-05:00'
describe
'19273468' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMCW' 'sip-files00001.tif'
6cfd1a9b58751afc7655ecf4664bed40
79e695a801e67b878df3735a519dee52e1732db9
'2011-12-13T06:20:07-05:00'
describe
'8334' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMCX' 'sip-files00001.txt'
2eb05030797bb15b40935e431a1b0123
8a205eaa6da11955f413e7430ac2af5d3d7d33a8
'2011-12-13T06:21:04-05:00'
describe
'8241' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMCY' 'sip-files00001thm.jpg'
4d4dba16b04d53ce0fd37b17bc9556a9
d0ceaf3b6e77d8845b17b22e79faae0cf7caca42
'2011-12-13T06:19:47-05:00'
describe
'747206' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMCZ' 'sip-files00002.jp2'
b045330047ce64606b610a1e90504f73
b8ab8ca762001c811da584baa929b1fefd01e6d2
'2011-12-13T06:20:43-05:00'
describe
'119361' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDA' 'sip-files00002.jpg'
47d0ec1a9d411a24f1d0c3b3531d2705
975abc51255352fe4b26383cad6e4188dbb2ecf6
'2011-12-13T06:20:48-05:00'
describe
'18437' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDB' 'sip-files00002.pro'
a9540a1c8178ca2f12b839d7196b2d77
698756382a867f26f10fd19cd012a6ba6ca9d0f6
'2011-12-13T06:21:06-05:00'
describe
'31619' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDC' 'sip-files00002.QC.jpg'
d2b9d4b7b4598e4a3f71eb9ad11e6038
6aa66f780fd3ffa5f7fe3d12e82a1080944e6cef
'2011-12-13T06:19:59-05:00'
describe
'5991344' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDD' 'sip-files00002.tif'
3d536b5c4d23eb56e88e9fb998fef1f0
021c2df3cc40aa5408dbadabda740c52df6ab43d
'2011-12-13T06:22:26-05:00'
describe
'838' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDE' 'sip-files00002.txt'
2e775559afc1911c7c265682986a07cb
e55cea02d1a21a32aa846a3f59687118f27a6233
'2011-12-13T06:19:35-05:00'
describe
'7954' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDF' 'sip-files00002thm.jpg'
1ed780f31d82874f257116c7f511e4ec
42dd08c2e1b4dedc0b08250b9a0d178f27a9f6eb
'2011-12-13T06:22:36-05:00'
describe
'798098' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDG' 'sip-files00003.jp2'
219742cb036ab5835b34a2ce2469eab6
3da01f8c909e1f65edbf7bf4cf712a0c267f7b90
'2011-12-13T06:20:04-05:00'
describe
'143990' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDH' 'sip-files00003.jpg'
16bb6d1282ab09b3e87d1aa8bdd50e6f
351bbc6eee9b5a3ad76669c5d9ba9092bffa7836
'2011-12-13T06:21:55-05:00'
describe
'32995' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDI' 'sip-files00003.QC.jpg'
2011826aef95ea7dcce0315bace08cba
072f3ba4857215d6e3744fc5fe5564055c38906b
'2011-12-13T06:21:18-05:00'
describe
'19176584' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDJ' 'sip-files00003.tif'
79a959daf15576c28e8cc6efed345de6
3ac9603c173d06291d9d8525655bf985f25b93d2
'2011-12-13T06:19:03-05:00'
describe
'8426' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDK' 'sip-files00003thm.jpg'
8e472fc9565bd8640564e672220349a6
af1e4c16c73c1c9c6384589eb271c4a7d088ea26
'2011-12-13T06:22:25-05:00'
describe
'734517' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDL' 'sip-files00004.jp2'
e8782ce2b9aaa9e8f237f40cd4e3b1a6
0b0048f59034329af4966daaf519ff0817bf99d5
'2011-12-13T06:22:39-05:00'
describe
'46081' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDM' 'sip-files00004.jpg'
4bcf5a0bf98fb867585b976b3f119882
eee67e916d4b20a2f5c4042fa7a5003bcd79650b
'2011-12-13T06:21:09-05:00'
describe
'4730' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDN' 'sip-files00004.pro'
e51d7dc26d158cf43476abec59bcd869
9779fd24adbf2e6d5bb720af262ef7029aa26e1e
'2011-12-13T06:20:28-05:00'
describe
'14175' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDO' 'sip-files00004.QC.jpg'
dbb727fd5970030eecb980b80e313d40
ef147fb7ecbf33d65711fe728931ee958c864ef4
describe
'5886352' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDP' 'sip-files00004.tif'
05dd2e96ee5155b83747e1614e05dc28
c2e94e0d43b7591f2e865d2c48af7569c4057702
'2011-12-13T06:21:08-05:00'
describe
'261' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDQ' 'sip-files00004.txt'
abf86c12971ec80368a2fec1bf986991
b71f64290acb040127f4d5f9470e6fc846c7d8e6
'2011-12-13T06:19:30-05:00'
describe
'3739' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDR' 'sip-files00004thm.jpg'
103ef93e7a4cf5f9a00a6327ee34e955
545c92c52272766d8f5d0052a265f678422f893e
'2011-12-13T06:18:54-05:00'
describe
'179561' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDS' 'sip-files00005.jp2'
894cfbb5c4c12ef21622579ae5442410
4f4714a9333f132f2bd15d7da90a5c4c5ecf33a0
'2011-12-13T06:21:41-05:00'
describe
'11072' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDT' 'sip-files00005.jpg'
43b15ace5da236e57693abe9184b02cd
48d0d64e1571ade6106ce7113e64194e1f0cf53e
'2011-12-13T06:20:52-05:00'
describe
'1298' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDU' 'sip-files00005.pro'
31ddf5d83ddce20d7f4683a9ca4f9f01
3249a0d9e411477931fc6bd73d4d8dfcac061b4f
'2011-12-13T06:20:34-05:00'
describe
'3339' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDV' 'sip-files00005.QC.jpg'
bdbb70e365f4a2ee96ab8e78bc99b457
6609316b253a2b6f344a4ef4540981827272c696
'2011-12-13T06:21:17-05:00'
describe
'5867348' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDW' 'sip-files00005.tif'
cb84ed35a9599cb967801bcae092d184
b36af820e31086f6d8d3e9e55fcdfde2046ab2b1
'2011-12-13T06:18:56-05:00'
describe
'153' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDX' 'sip-files00005.txt'
039cec1daddac9ce5e418758895a3bbd
a99bf896233bd6d7be2765d4549ba6866e02bdc7
'2011-12-13T06:20:19-05:00'
describe
'1145' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDY' 'sip-files00005thm.jpg'
0b4e8f278eb08b17b927d2e415352624
99703a486ce8a306f801f9eb4da22b6472818924
'2011-12-13T06:21:42-05:00'
describe
'736616' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMDZ' 'sip-files00006.jp2'
8f4a962dad0b15b25ff515aed7997248
d7eb3758069db257d871eaa966554ced526a5dc9
'2011-12-13T06:21:01-05:00'
describe
'186946' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEA' 'sip-files00006.jpg'
4ad51b80c7b0d4149b0e8e4020995caa
b9b79ba82c2455ff0df9a88189f04a76178e874b
'2011-12-13T06:22:21-05:00'
describe
'40635' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEB' 'sip-files00006.pro'
ab08e9913c1bb2a123487a7810cbfe24
4b6c9e45ba82d0a705951cbbf6a2e2ce28fcd916
describe
'47224' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEC' 'sip-files00006.QC.jpg'
6440b379af9bfdd508d438acb80e2d6a
911badd980d254e46e0a06999e9a57013ef59075
describe
'5907116' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMED' 'sip-files00006.tif'
489d57a0803059933da4b760b9a78242
ecb6d713eac4461cbef67659a68bd256f62026c8
'2011-12-13T06:18:43-05:00'
describe
'1685' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEE' 'sip-files00006.txt'
41d40a993b77941adc9546f89313c8b8
54a09df43e0efbee992447aa9df487083e078fe7
'2011-12-13T06:20:22-05:00'
describe
'10676' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEF' 'sip-files00006thm.jpg'
a53ecccf4c060981c3f8b5b045daa90f
f12a1b78318d05bb729a33897b0d2b2e322fe58a
'2011-12-13T06:22:32-05:00'
describe
'745110' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEG' 'sip-files00007.jp2'
0770a569fd422ee176ceea0e7df6827f
3c7367b265460c07b0fc4dda2f07f4747476123f
'2011-12-13T06:22:24-05:00'
describe
'165677' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEH' 'sip-files00007.jpg'
20157fc6148d4ec28312e473040211c1
bb3fdb819a7b7eab8eeba8f31c3db440d5da33e4
'2011-12-13T06:21:51-05:00'
describe
'110392' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEI' 'sip-files00007.pro'
6b580e282fbba9565e44761ea9eb5096
1bf06edc79a8ce4ae57640d324d4408fce43e7b1
'2011-12-13T06:18:57-05:00'
describe
'42953' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEJ' 'sip-files00007.QC.jpg'
bc26718c450476a5b7a8af7c075bb3af
a2c190022b6559f332bb5aafa6a4e50a4723b514
'2011-12-13T06:21:43-05:00'
describe
'5974804' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEK' 'sip-files00007.tif'
21805fea66574102b38d0258f153d229
adeb23f80cbf1b0dacdd26f3fe422ed84eb8bf5f
'2011-12-13T06:19:22-05:00'
describe
'4467' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEL' 'sip-files00007.txt'
0feb1cb8b0ecc8d6e4a4747615e97a81
9411a62a30091d8aebba38cdcb0667823369fc2d
'2011-12-13T06:20:08-05:00'
describe
'9562' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEM' 'sip-files00007thm.jpg'
0f3e89b40a8e78eb7beb098452d0b166
dd757205078aa10f5f88fd2376fb72b7b40b6a25
'2011-12-13T06:21:28-05:00'
describe
'723879' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEN' 'sip-files00008.jp2'
8924b8ce4af594df834ef9b58449629d
1a38e3fd65aa66c933c2fb9d216b4c193c2e76f2
'2011-12-13T06:18:41-05:00'
describe
'208003' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEO' 'sip-files00008.jpg'
066dbc6201c9c6751145b7fc9642abb7
3b2dd3f84cc99053e065fca8312df5050d0446bb
'2011-12-13T06:22:47-05:00'
describe
'11483' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEP' 'sip-files00008.pro'
19e3a1b1462e62013b58e0300d847d64
1c2623f38eb93b1033bab7ff835fe9162f62b95c
'2011-12-13T06:18:40-05:00'
describe
'46572' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEQ' 'sip-files00008.QC.jpg'
bb4e8bbea65a64fe4e9bd43b2dfacb47
ae321cc6c04ccd8f7a1d2b36a473c3a772289c15
'2011-12-13T06:19:55-05:00'
describe
'5804264' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMER' 'sip-files00008.tif'
5dfb2b2abf0c33dc466a4716f510c1fd
7b7782b19db51ba2f2be0c2d673e1ebcede840f8
'2011-12-13T06:21:03-05:00'
describe
'616' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMES' 'sip-files00008.txt'
39533ee8c095fbac93704f263f7f56d5
586dadbd81e1feb0fea54f6cc8d1f8fc07e08f5b
'2011-12-13T06:21:07-05:00'
describe
Invalid character
'10345' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMET' 'sip-files00008thm.jpg'
24bc1d20cd81d607683e896b564680c9
6b74fd9ea6e61003d48dfc6cf9aaa1ea6ae3184f
describe
'721788' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEU' 'sip-files00009.jp2'
b4acc66d5f9bdf70d0e3afd22b09b800
199f841cc74138c0a9b8879b25b1457a4d41f65b
'2011-12-13T06:20:20-05:00'
describe
'143197' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEV' 'sip-files00009.jpg'
1c2c299272b4d76b3ae212a22d2a5a55
de7ee4eab261646a67df5e745760b53c33ac1891
'2011-12-13T06:18:39-05:00'
describe
'84294' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEW' 'sip-files00009.pro'
057170fdac436aec1d35d2dee9c39671
9e0d0d53107f095224ea4039cf4763fd11aeabb0
'2011-12-13T06:21:12-05:00'
describe
'40012' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEX' 'sip-files00009.QC.jpg'
c9c3566eac6e2b9de5d06940a4713037
8fabd09c94712e8f45ae908cb8eebdff596cc648
'2011-12-13T06:18:59-05:00'
describe
'5788212' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEY' 'sip-files00009.tif'
53781779524400797bdfccec0d63c944
94ef4b56b0525f411c6b4629d76a97382d3f488e
'2011-12-13T06:22:38-05:00'
describe
'3595' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMEZ' 'sip-files00009.txt'
656296f810ba97fbd4acac374904f6b4
d28aa109ac07decc6eefd6bebabe50e4a7089a62
'2011-12-13T06:21:58-05:00'
describe
'9841' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFA' 'sip-files00009thm.jpg'
b96c0e42566496dc91813a0a223d3008
7186a51c1adf7bb70465bce403e1123272ea47ca
describe
'715438' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFB' 'sip-files00010.jp2'
682ab7cb95e5546fcd60d839eca86f8c
37794f05e5b3a0e73d856eeb18549253da0c27d5
'2011-12-13T06:19:37-05:00'
describe
'185739' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFC' 'sip-files00010.jpg'
fcdf852edb4a6f910f3705f99ae563d0
fbe3aba36fade7badd74dfd3bf4b4210aea8e37f
'2011-12-13T06:22:05-05:00'
describe
'108883' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFD' 'sip-files00010.pro'
b5c678825ecf885c58e8b7dfb3188b25
e7e632deea9bb4c1d6c86e9e70b5dbf474af996c
describe
'48084' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFE' 'sip-files00010.QC.jpg'
19631beac910fa1359e438cee04d2d38
0f9d050d1e73b5d73e92f3239b0eed4751227363
'2011-12-13T06:21:21-05:00'
describe
'5737940' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFF' 'sip-files00010.tif'
5e5418b68ac2d2d343ab6cc0d4aee95e
f6c36b7384e23d3cd661e06a0b7ca496951aa5dd
describe
'4521' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFG' 'sip-files00010.txt'
0f26933683b8872950ae6fd2b4dbac38
9f8f133a674e297b610785ec59ede4651c79fff0
describe
'10708' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFH' 'sip-files00010thm.jpg'
97c12d94ba99b776217f46614706db9c
fb9692df90cc27412f08a5a2e0f1da126f739ebc
'2011-12-13T06:19:12-05:00'
describe
'713312' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFI' 'sip-files00011.jp2'
9f93b4010725fbe5476900509160e355
13ca6fbf3c667aa00237e6d8820a219fb895b52e
'2011-12-13T06:22:23-05:00'
describe
'173608' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFJ' 'sip-files00011.jpg'
280dbf542ee1e267efc5b2677b42e494
5f14ddfd4caa2a352c194c524f1bb8cffc9abcef
describe
'104788' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFK' 'sip-files00011.pro'
d49b1cdf8317d91111311713db417668
2c260e05676c212f5d6188ffd875c9c523f02e2e
'2011-12-13T06:20:05-05:00'
describe
'46699' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFL' 'sip-files00011.QC.jpg'
8149aa5284ee322b4a23ce9c856a8392
0391f80b741ad82e4eaa2c887b435d2cb7d44a8a
'2011-12-13T06:21:57-05:00'
describe
'5720688' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFM' 'sip-files00011.tif'
ccdf233902a31a0057006a31a2383627
b4fe74b3ba799027dc0d09a53900401c59258235
'2011-12-13T06:21:47-05:00'
describe
'4337' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFN' 'sip-files00011.txt'
8ad2821e1fb15ddd38d3111df222b967
f1e061b2c7be23dd31f7bf8a215c80a10c99969c
'2011-12-13T06:19:43-05:00'
describe
'10069' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFO' 'sip-files00011thm.jpg'
bae637aedc1257084059c449ecb86f08
d403c3238d3073b0372a2af0fb2ac511c8f95387
describe
'706931' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFP' 'sip-files00012.jp2'
b85c6b0c1389e61838b1749576a54d86
8bc70872949502120366f73aa3e70ba94caf224a
'2011-12-13T06:19:38-05:00'
describe
'174314' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFQ' 'sip-files00012.jpg'
ddd115107950772a85348b6de9b87ae5
92925a543c2805b1f18154477cc5ae19c83ec8f3
'2011-12-13T06:22:06-05:00'
describe
'1366' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFR' 'sip-files00012.pro'
388ddaf647b4960884dad4f11ee79995
c11d8b519c1a5c92688904982305b9df6610679e
describe
'40357' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFS' 'sip-files00012.QC.jpg'
efb2ef3e864b4678670d3046fff6745e
3de62f3c52a238a2805272b20756636dc88b9f4a
describe
'5668728' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFT' 'sip-files00012.tif'
c61b1b363cfbe759741dcb181a44efe1
d81acbb063fdd95455a25e3d78bb2e81cbf973a6
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFU' 'sip-files00012.txt'
7f4c2327075123854ddbe29396d61ba8
b68ce1f3869fa8277ec6cf1b9b3747fbb79c87ba
'2011-12-13T06:20:41-05:00'
describe
'9305' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFV' 'sip-files00012thm.jpg'
7288bf8a563e7823fa43793e99bbdbd1
a44b6c2b45cd31a0e974b60c2020bb0717d7dd63
'2011-12-13T06:22:33-05:00'
describe
'685757' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFW' 'sip-files00013.jp2'
94aaa788dfba46a08d581ba301f635a0
883d3bc1a1f7d6e008a5a03f276fbab9ba17fe13
describe
'186410' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFX' 'sip-files00013.jpg'
b0ee79f1aa711b3e7e9ff8bcb4965063
085bb9c1d2c980b92a093b73217519babc3072ab
'2011-12-13T06:19:04-05:00'
describe
'100958' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFY' 'sip-files00013.pro'
a8ebad3ee7e95c881be10b1db85fa06d
62fcc39139254cfa4ef66015184e424e788db0ba
'2011-12-13T06:18:50-05:00'
describe
'49995' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMFZ' 'sip-files00013.QC.jpg'
fc933129fee51e18b3a0f878d28326cb
80047a576c7dd80c4aedbd756fa1dff4037f7e0d
'2011-12-13T06:20:13-05:00'
describe
'5500316' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGA' 'sip-files00013.tif'
3f40d856f7313ec778ae1981ceb0abf3
3b66d20bd0229126c1982075c75900aa01068eb0
'2011-12-13T06:21:29-05:00'
describe
'4190' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGB' 'sip-files00013.txt'
e0fe75731a891a32afbeb938c2744d3c
e4945b17f7df6950b7fd840a652b9d424aea7801
'2011-12-13T06:22:18-05:00'
describe
'11159' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGC' 'sip-files00013thm.jpg'
98840b199d10ca5d1766c1a17b3faaec
a6944592f18db185db7e2e0b87d1ad0d462b6313
'2011-12-13T06:21:45-05:00'
describe
'715410' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGD' 'sip-files00014.jp2'
3302b04e9e32a611d1654dfc66a718f4
b4064516953df59564ee09bbd3ba7e7924181e9a
'2011-12-13T06:22:07-05:00'
describe
'183590' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGE' 'sip-files00014.jpg'
5668c89c44c328a71b3b1d25d0abfa3f
bf79a6c60b24432c7105b6cd6cf73b2f63e5ef40
'2011-12-13T06:21:36-05:00'
describe
'80184' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGF' 'sip-files00014.pro'
d8ccea4e68fbe4e07461e086a8927150
1217e127054c70010561d1be871cf438e719e764
'2011-12-13T06:21:52-05:00'
describe
'48578' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGG' 'sip-files00014.QC.jpg'
da793034adbd04261fa56a46c3e2c6b7
fb9a1ce83af9909e0b2db92fa7a4a0caeef1445c
describe
'5737960' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGH' 'sip-files00014.tif'
4833d8ad50bc7bb0da660200693a30b0
b2587359101ccda7a4a170f18880691efe24157d
'2011-12-13T06:22:19-05:00'
describe
'3348' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGI' 'sip-files00014.txt'
17a50b5f76016209727dbde57b90c4cd
b0cfa482cffefa1ee9d41a8e5c33aedfadbd8082
'2011-12-13T06:20:17-05:00'
describe
'11160' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGJ' 'sip-files00014thm.jpg'
bfae2f67a5802700827a77e94566f173
fbae12f9906f9fa9b1e52eca133b5878943f752d
'2011-12-13T06:21:32-05:00'
describe
'679353' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGK' 'sip-files00015.jp2'
c909645f08aa61048acd7a3faae7d199
53092f884fc90397e7378a261b3bab58e986eccc
describe
'159708' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGL' 'sip-files00015.jpg'
e49967b4c27154dae786002ada215c8c
8c4e7d9b617a0c6163cf84c0d0dabd87e9ea0181
'2011-12-13T06:18:49-05:00'
describe
'60858' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGM' 'sip-files00015.pro'
51c1f012e85f2083b179e00532b75834
52aeb77d3c3ebe9c4f5d29464684fce296ab3e4f
describe
'44406' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGN' 'sip-files00015.QC.jpg'
234a71f60c78947174c8364792e398e1
7f3274082c4aa635d0c13526707d8211a76fb42e
'2011-12-13T06:19:00-05:00'
describe
'5449032' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGO' 'sip-files00015.tif'
487a8a69918fbf94771417a9a9dfc947
5947a25406cf8929f5e9c3c580f4637378c98cd5
'2011-12-13T06:18:51-05:00'
describe
'2491' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGP' 'sip-files00015.txt'
a3b429b0b43a6c920825cd8be6bbb10e
478316dab0adb5d87c1d565cf429a20527b23b43
'2011-12-13T06:19:06-05:00'
describe
'10503' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGQ' 'sip-files00015thm.jpg'
d9ca9884878371f19172ca1b0bb86cb4
a98d2f608eb31294e6a4071386f7f6be16b0f726
describe
'741200' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGR' 'sip-files00016.jp2'
93dd68c149a8ac633028d915160051e7
7d1f43634917a93eee26d78ce2589981b18d200c
'2011-12-13T06:22:01-05:00'
describe
'159013' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGS' 'sip-files00016.jpg'
bf35a55908a5cd9e241885287e0a2f8e
757138b49d415ada653582c924e98c9964b56296
describe
'99284' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGT' 'sip-files00016.pro'
f2d39643619277359162c64fa79a40b8
2facddbc822c1bb2b98864ddaf1f92dc52efac50
'2011-12-13T06:19:19-05:00'
describe
'41521' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGU' 'sip-files00016.QC.jpg'
9a11881c44a6040ace74e7ed20133601
f65fa3d2a7c2b435c62d07dec512f94cd797551d
'2011-12-13T06:19:53-05:00'
describe
'5952896' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGV' 'sip-files00016.tif'
112c9130bfebfc38e36cd59f3fa769d6
14bd1be1d0e6f01d3aa558a17c73072dff922fc3
'2011-12-13T06:19:08-05:00'
describe
'4214' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGW' 'sip-files00016.txt'
cabb30b70b5da30b37c65122c83d952d
6fceaf11f5a4aa05d0070f9de6e6c5d5113d0703
'2011-12-13T06:22:09-05:00'
describe
'9447' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGX' 'sip-files00016thm.jpg'
c0dad410f95828c38bd09c59b4a431e4
5844ea64586d7ba9c73122f803add85858c4a2c0
describe
'728159' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGY' 'sip-files00017.jp2'
58b2a9c730440b141225ab8d8794202c
25deb29cfad049f7f415f3476a45e4dfe4407422
'2011-12-13T06:19:33-05:00'
describe
'154136' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMGZ' 'sip-files00017.jpg'
a6b7ed06b3366948e33728635325ac44
7a631b7305520ab04a3c40a8c744b24d034344dc
'2011-12-13T06:18:37-05:00'
describe
'64994' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHA' 'sip-files00017.pro'
6e9ecae9dec5c178f3abae3d49bc9c8d
0ab7e81b794de5e88a2a032a290c8ca0fed27a48
describe
'39323' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHB' 'sip-files00017.QC.jpg'
f007a6e58618702beafc0fe5b60af742
1a81642198e31c2b7d2618fdf50033b07f50110f
describe
'5839160' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHC' 'sip-files00017.tif'
bd5012068646d35343ea3c84d5d9ad3d
55e4af8861dc24d23780d6be7dc4636f92607be4
'2011-12-13T06:18:48-05:00'
describe
'2634' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHD' 'sip-files00017.txt'
81af154f3e78f37c73b478e62809bbd2
f8820543dbf04fbe0733f4bfba320495deb4c775
'2011-12-13T06:19:16-05:00'
describe
'9547' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHE' 'sip-files00017thm.jpg'
b16fd96f565b1959b37809363b0dba21
9c55fe29271ace360f329abb03eba1341917de1d
describe
'759897' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHF' 'sip-files00018.jp2'
a522f26f542bb1c619388042489ed4e2
dd6bc325392bb27608f4e4a14796edda7785579c
describe
'154432' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHG' 'sip-files00018.jpg'
5670e6b25e84eedec2aacc11012772a4
3bf266dde3cd4fd57b0af7d05ead540119c0b49f
'2011-12-13T06:19:01-05:00'
describe
'101602' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHH' 'sip-files00018.pro'
4841e01363b02951d2c682f685f423c2
1590a55e3cbe7a85b6f8442117befaca0ff288d0
'2011-12-13T06:21:19-05:00'
describe
'40932' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHI' 'sip-files00018.QC.jpg'
860f96c0db488abe2fb0829d9f68d6e7
52a1cde3f747c9b38f0a48a528bc632f426de080
'2011-12-13T06:18:46-05:00'
describe
'6093620' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHJ' 'sip-files00018.tif'
87411b5dfa782bd555cf007c0e769d7f
1e041d20fbc168b38c455d0f77c0204f415067d4
'2011-12-13T06:19:39-05:00'
describe
'4314' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHK' 'sip-files00018.txt'
acff52bde892345fe85744387083be2a
0b4ed17395bf03dec094a33e9b4c164a76fd9750
'2011-12-13T06:19:50-05:00'
describe
'9238' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHL' 'sip-files00018thm.jpg'
7ecbd00c9d7e546fb32c207ffb43f10e
dfacc764b6981c3cc74ea49b07714caf7ef89ea2
describe
'717536' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHM' 'sip-files00019.jp2'
0f5afce2201d8b0395104ef7a853426b
190c2d91d8bcfd08ca1915a37121d6f4e61cc499
'2011-12-13T06:20:39-05:00'
describe
'158784' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHN' 'sip-files00019.jpg'
3a12684efef1f2782d3140b3f6b28116
aef776ff3578c01617324f3f5f2653cff6ca052e
'2011-12-13T06:22:30-05:00'
describe
'99548' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHO' 'sip-files00019.pro'
c42e1e712186f8a3de8f3f49a77c7461
dbefda0b6dc49faf52d258f4863cf5e100d95f3c
describe
'43142' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHP' 'sip-files00019.QC.jpg'
cf4d7f50fa53b3b7cb3e9f3812ce7457
87fe2fe2f778ede09169a6a5d2c3cba3687b468a
describe
'5754140' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHQ' 'sip-files00019.tif'
e9b6d1adcbf52cb9a4fc824bf25680d5
1ce68609d5d78b530b6effde146e194fac4122d8
'2011-12-13T06:20:26-05:00'
describe
'4180' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHR' 'sip-files00019.txt'
fac68337567887bd704ddcee64c089a6
cebc68be93dab1cb27390f415af2d4407b156937
'2011-12-13T06:20:55-05:00'
describe
'9853' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHS' 'sip-files00019thm.jpg'
e54552b6d3b228ea7c40716e227ef797
641a7ee16f262d35a76fc4075bc62d23086cf045
describe
'721754' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHT' 'sip-files00020.jp2'
bb1a3f98d2b4dd38ec60f0bf28c88208
f11a1729e5f09b141bdf7d20d4b753bdc0dddabd
describe
'190801' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHU' 'sip-files00020.jpg'
07f49fe6a92d0438560d988578936a24
6acbaf83b7fdbb831ced92e0751866350a9c2f77
describe
'2203' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHV' 'sip-files00020.pro'
29249ff974f27969aa42f37e5a9b81bf
f23627a5822c227bbac5c012019083ee5224af1a
describe
'43626' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHW' 'sip-files00020.QC.jpg'
105ccdb06d7d16a1b2d5c3a8a31d7b08
4a2aae3c6dad45651c0ca6500429208331c9de9f
'2011-12-13T06:22:44-05:00'
describe
'5787644' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHX' 'sip-files00020.tif'
75662e398e998ba15a4bfcfd6b97b086
b8cf251cb1960f291eb632c4a1c9dc0374c94e26
'2011-12-13T06:19:24-05:00'
describe
'99' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHY' 'sip-files00020.txt'
e7ba63a6bf7884b8c409bbe87507522f
3b097fe41b747a9282bb5ce9d01cc73848d9421f
'2011-12-13T06:19:21-05:00'
describe
'10086' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMHZ' 'sip-files00020thm.jpg'
bf50c9de54068611074766100bd1493a
ec6c6c5bf19764d56503ff253743d5eeae64f0c2
'2011-12-13T06:19:36-05:00'
describe
'694224' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIA' 'sip-files00021.jp2'
f07e226b6678fe45beaddcf71fc45f92
0df56d4ffb8cee06890969c0bd6a5dd608c63b24
describe
'154881' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIB' 'sip-files00021.jpg'
2aaf792e34388c6277356c29ff4ee6b2
5e1c2a3cf902ccf98004f75dc9e3598ec5f7bd7b
'2011-12-13T06:18:53-05:00'
describe
'99267' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIC' 'sip-files00021.pro'
786f83d8cafbbae5b8d08b2411fb21ec
212240af2d66b5dbd43bff14f3a34d674e5c6c9c
describe
'40993' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMID' 'sip-files00021.QC.jpg'
e4ac76dc1356a64e2522a4078692674b
d8bd95d112cefcce419eb2d70fb92c53eff4c40f
describe
'5567288' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIE' 'sip-files00021.tif'
fde28ef806fa2f40a38d8744755cca62
d799d90537b9c9dd3af1c1701798da9cf09a89ac
'2011-12-13T06:19:51-05:00'
describe
'4487' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIF' 'sip-files00021.txt'
6c109ac2de02fba56f091b3dbdaf70aa
08c14023ce28603ab7de187c84eeea09f98cad6c
'2011-12-13T06:22:15-05:00'
describe
Invalid character
'9601' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIG' 'sip-files00021thm.jpg'
5d9afd139cf5444a035ecbb1c0d63ea0
a819d1aae01e5160e3286ad3d10adec415b187f8
'2011-12-13T06:22:11-05:00'
describe
'789617' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIH' 'sip-files00022.jp2'
8f7c1f54b614f689ac2f444142701010
f9255aec97bdb5bad1c77384543b66c7fcd0e2df
'2011-12-13T06:19:14-05:00'
describe
'150218' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMII' 'sip-files00022.jpg'
004145e459c739395ffae0987ee59d35
4f5b6701c6a142b9af3c7ddccbf50e205cb6095d
describe
'108129' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIJ' 'sip-files00022.pro'
eeea08a8ee5d66daca239727a821d60a
4067fb1724b150ea45e9de267f194829a13bea5f
describe
'38832' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIK' 'sip-files00022.QC.jpg'
b6c0c744d708d1ced23bdd3495225988
bd1cd1432d5fd561d6ac17ecc572f90e01242b73
'2011-12-13T06:21:13-05:00'
describe
'6331260' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIL' 'sip-files00022.tif'
55c4be546c90260014dd30e8e7723384
94118a81b32fba8bef0f09266e14b148c4fc417f
'2011-12-13T06:20:00-05:00'
describe
'4507' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIM' 'sip-files00022.txt'
9a866d922250c1cae97dff7cfe2a2ff1
86f9b2befa441478af22defe0dfbc1e3672b3572
'2011-12-13T06:22:16-05:00'
describe
Invalid character
'8829' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIN' 'sip-files00022thm.jpg'
08a01376639bad1be7385fdea0f21664
66cac69b9f9ace266e415b26e665f1097411697e
'2011-12-13T06:19:45-05:00'
describe
'774749' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIO' 'sip-files00023.jp2'
e4db961aa9825bb78ae90276bda00f52
ba3f69092647f049c4504f68587c0dd51a80d64a
describe
'153458' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIP' 'sip-files00023.jpg'
aac467ca8907e76143215c4e5471297a
6d54f042cbc783aad3867386ac7a43ceffdd1c87
'2011-12-13T06:20:36-05:00'
describe
'106369' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIQ' 'sip-files00023.pro'
43bf1e6aea6dbf4c7f77a639044de828
7aeee56ed1479f79ae617d3a2bf010c838331b9b
describe
'39900' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIR' 'sip-files00023.QC.jpg'
a911d5eb7ef4fb101209d171bc8e7483
aa62030a56182f7cbcb9369c1ca5112bfbc1a3ed
'2011-12-13T06:21:38-05:00'
describe
'6212204' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIS' 'sip-files00023.tif'
93df4e817834f5ac792963246eb7eb87
bd4211a8020945d5cbd64f3cf574d9bdb52c34cb
'2011-12-13T06:21:22-05:00'
describe
'4421' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIT' 'sip-files00023.txt'
820912fed59346bccc2acddb29ef51a8
9dd265c3bb797ea077ac65c7ff6e0cd031b9ead5
describe
'8781' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIU' 'sip-files00023thm.jpg'
fad62f32008234c9452c45079ecd8bea
8418d93efe7ac81368de1b74ece510f07fabe300
'2011-12-13T06:21:14-05:00'
describe
'751455' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIV' 'sip-files00024.jp2'
8c467cdb9ababc453cfd3268db4523f9
9360a7ca0f9014cf9a6624fd71e67d3dd93a8f48
'2011-12-13T06:21:48-05:00'
describe
'162951' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIW' 'sip-files00024.jpg'
24aa25029552c43853e69d518365671a
57c49bb81b1c10cc8a101c32f1a6f160b0e09d27
describe
'92942' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIX' 'sip-files00024.pro'
0380eea1ae50ba27a4e280feba18eda0
b9c6554a23b6420c303f44d1782238b692e16128
'2011-12-13T06:19:32-05:00'
describe
'41330' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIY' 'sip-files00024.QC.jpg'
274f8f5f258854c16a8ba0bbe7ed3a0c
391354eb8bb8ff6f245147469dcb7967328df188
describe
'6025344' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMIZ' 'sip-files00024.tif'
08d8e28d37b5cd53968801b4e06dda6c
6fb590d1616fc3c0910137a2858521d88fd4af6f
'2011-12-13T06:21:37-05:00'
describe
'3931' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJA' 'sip-files00024.txt'
95399415b9eb7aea6911038cf7c20155
a28a87fa0eb7f7fb1f6292fdbd5fd092f1408c25
describe
'9329' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJB' 'sip-files00024thm.jpg'
7d29489816fcf26374bbf56fc86a496a
b67ce4cd398c493247f79df40605a39fbc7d76c9
describe
'740713' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJC' 'sip-files00025.jp2'
442bd0bebaedba0a1bea23f4f4c3f66f
7a89ed54cb3168d9d310815980b3455c76c0a229
describe
'193584' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJD' 'sip-files00025.jpg'
42795cbdff732821f0dec7d7935573bd
c32b44d0bce2cc536f96b5b160dae119acf47fba
describe
'43107' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJE' 'sip-files00025.pro'
6e4c44b594f98dd564f6dda292af3b71
1090b3119deaf61dc0aa9e8e38541478d8ca03f7
describe
'46098' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJF' 'sip-files00025.QC.jpg'
89f7453e5bc959ef279f2cba3d778f0c
70b7444b02c829f2e3c548a70bb7443737ae3638
describe
'5940756' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJG' 'sip-files00025.tif'
4c7fca4d5f703eb9fc35bbf5f02182d2
8452da89e7abbfd8b333d494c12391c06c94d5fa
describe
'1888' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJH' 'sip-files00025.txt'
5fa1da779a8e4a87cb7a084f4041dfea
75a87ad8f31a70a4e7616ef68e469763d930b737
'2011-12-13T06:22:00-05:00'
describe
Invalid character
'10402' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJI' 'sip-files00025thm.jpg'
2105519600666bf92fa41c298fb17eb6
a1da49a7dc9a4505f21dce638b24346cfdf280f3
describe
'736636' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJJ' 'sip-files00026.jp2'
6e3a43831585c018139d6a3f28f910b0
d274f422c853a28b8f86721b910004ca859dd43b
describe
'166298' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJK' 'sip-files00026.jpg'
33ce45224e1e621ab7619168e330fc20
e216afb1a234e45415c199ebe22d73df5dd8aed7
describe
'107445' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJL' 'sip-files00026.pro'
d55156952cc1a47f4ec41ca17f4b7660
79ac5ea903f5e52fb87c7800d86b9b972316fae1
'2011-12-13T06:18:42-05:00'
describe
'43436' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJM' 'sip-files00026.QC.jpg'
a234a65334b164b00afb1c3584e7da9e
673f33866de797ad3e28b6e2a760649a88a6cd39
describe
'5906992' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJN' 'sip-files00026.tif'
432682604099245b72344e27bb9bb4eb
0d47b69d4ae21e7cff2231800ce048dce91801f3
describe
'4414' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJO' 'sip-files00026.txt'
666b4a97bd3e6ea4523e951194206b87
99fa19ef094d2bfe0cb9692e92f5cb5f76986a1f
'2011-12-13T06:20:50-05:00'
describe
'9737' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJP' 'sip-files00026thm.jpg'
2959d6a11eb6ce106f2e5f90c1dca04d
2192e76e02a939674e2f74ec685cf29fa7369323
describe
'704813' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJQ' 'sip-files00027.jp2'
9d09554831de6bf307949718ebf06c0b
b8ec3ea9967714d8322b889925c20ef5f1ad4792
describe
'162502' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJR' 'sip-files00027.jpg'
c3a34d526924a0c2eea54ae2df51e4c2
7d0f8f5d0cd082e2495496297914e8329ea5b982
describe
'95276' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJS' 'sip-files00027.pro'
e94eb868e5d429edc5af7a94c443dbd7
2716cce00d97394ec08804dbc678ce92d3b5f07b
'2011-12-13T06:22:04-05:00'
describe
'43248' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJT' 'sip-files00027.QC.jpg'
5a757c0147015eeda877236cf25c988c
2d9da1b3c37886b713000c7c8ad24ee0f351e3ba
describe
'5652420' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJU' 'sip-files00027.tif'
d15abf61c058c3c84c89fb2d00257225
2e0823e9cd89415feb447cf216b57d7243098f78
'2011-12-13T06:20:15-05:00'
describe
'4033' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJV' 'sip-files00027.txt'
dacbc3cf40b70aef2cc57bb5eab86a14
e67a80485716681b2eab48d8f64de801c5fa56e8
describe
'10065' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJW' 'sip-files00027thm.jpg'
8fbc63dcff95b829010661c121a62f88
4bd0ba326dd3151cc0c54a33f6d366c9d579146a
describe
'747232' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJX' 'sip-files00028.jp2'
f5c5a2e66708937b137a9b2fc5ff3b3e
ebc531c7209c5eaea7b571c760627b41457aa315
'2011-12-13T06:19:34-05:00'
describe
'128549' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJY' 'sip-files00028.jpg'
4e01eca1822d82197442a910f9062e29
a8c9b6b169b313597b5fca9b8018e804e907d3dd
'2011-12-13T06:21:27-05:00'
describe
'1062' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMJZ' 'sip-files00028.pro'
a1f81695874fa743cf2c93522e3d547a
a0a984305d8d8a4736a162668627ddfbe4986c48
'2011-12-13T06:19:31-05:00'
describe
'30076' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKA' 'sip-files00028.QC.jpg'
f314cb2721a2a8309ce1c88c093597c3
768a79908faed0fcaebe8f26126e0c7684a2a0b6
'2011-12-13T06:22:02-05:00'
describe
'5989992' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKB' 'sip-files00028.tif'
8b5759cfa7fb893bc131f208505ad905
9f1fcaf485f0e7f89f5c98d3bb4be1632aa03bed
'2011-12-13T06:21:16-05:00'
describe
'214' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKC' 'sip-files00028.txt'
38ebc532ccb36063b6e01433892d7194
5769672f05079f631245df7776c7b41d5242a23b
describe
'7253' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKD' 'sip-files00028thm.jpg'
0d57f956324c35f866c55a79ee2a55ec
302a4617fe2fe20c8b9b8746364201382d1a7de7
'2011-12-13T06:22:03-05:00'
describe
'717560' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKE' 'sip-files00029.jp2'
1acf9ef7bd37c578e78c5b6754d5f2f7
82da1a3fb6dd29c95304996a1b420150de865a4c
describe
'168026' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKF' 'sip-files00029.jpg'
163a4321c07d30cdbeb55dbb83bc63b3
8026804276168b4e001423dfcf35769fdb8467bf
describe
'107167' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKG' 'sip-files00029.pro'
0348afe62ba00fee00d3520c20f7e1e8
0ce711def425d32a90a2b7f7e6601690c51b9668
'2011-12-13T06:19:52-05:00'
describe
'43816' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKH' 'sip-files00029.QC.jpg'
9c40aaefb76dc5d081daefc80c8c8552
acaffde03040ef4ad7fc6351c63b8afe9a3778b4
'2011-12-13T06:20:21-05:00'
describe
'5753852' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKI' 'sip-files00029.tif'
7f0803fca26f1962255711c4c9e797c0
e0d30a0b033c844653f78b23b56e202ff18f64cb
'2011-12-13T06:21:20-05:00'
describe
'4381' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKJ' 'sip-files00029.txt'
9aecf4c6f3f95fbed8e326f28ad8b6cb
b151c0896b33e7562568426a40477ae9bdb45694
'2011-12-13T06:21:59-05:00'
describe
'9597' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKK' 'sip-files00029thm.jpg'
c433ea7e177b8badb30a9241898de84f
8c7e2899d8d6c9f78869f873bc61800023bb2832
'2011-12-13T06:20:42-05:00'
describe
'747234' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKL' 'sip-files00030.jp2'
d75ab4f53f4de3af30d8d47a034de366
409b99083c30f1344358f24c99c560c377f31420
describe
'167736' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKM' 'sip-files00030.jpg'
5a041fbc025e6c62940c1694d1105ee8
ab7e2c5fc9947ef1635d85b02ff59ac6c22d1217
describe
'111640' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKN' 'sip-files00030.pro'
a9f9a643bba1405a8afb13e30ac8566b
56c10879fbcc23fad5b108613158495f2acf4c13
'2011-12-13T06:20:49-05:00'
describe
'43087' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKO' 'sip-files00030.QC.jpg'
d4aeef97f1efc889fb4d88f0768d60e8
28a38684a1b863a7cc6b816be8546a94df6eae3c
describe
'5991492' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKP' 'sip-files00030.tif'
a1b3b921ddd16491ee6d3b70bec71a01
2bbfaa21e4219eeca7dab71163584a616f3de9de
'2011-12-13T06:22:43-05:00'
describe
'4613' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKQ' 'sip-files00030.txt'
32786fb56f5c69bfd1df970b4bb8f04e
ee19f4eaa507114ebe60b2245b1adbfa4ad89809
describe
'9366' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKR' 'sip-files00030thm.jpg'
653fe3c38a9863aa78d8111a4cc9833a
babbf89329c9e418046b2ee076d476f45743320f
describe
'713251' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKS' 'sip-files00031.jp2'
79d569a378d3f8cd2402357a7a8561da
7d2abc756454d491fee04ab7e3d24a145899d687
'2011-12-13T06:19:29-05:00'
describe
'130096' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKT' 'sip-files00031.jpg'
97061ae6b4029897800fd5f1c7681c83
6267588793c291e47a15d02f8dd554c9c90f6f33
'2011-12-13T06:22:13-05:00'
describe
'20542' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKU' 'sip-files00031.pro'
c17ffd654540be774cd7fefa506f064c
3f6198a4d6d3ec313b4eec4d335267aafc0ef963
describe
'32818' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKV' 'sip-files00031.QC.jpg'
fdaf3933a89b507acd11e1584d2d654d
160f24f7e9a4352bec1731421053f77f4aac76ec
describe
'5719048' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKW' 'sip-files00031.tif'
319e5f7a53275341ce0323f2999c64c7
b0c4f62187fc9620452c1f28bb7519bd9bd94ce3
'2011-12-13T06:20:16-05:00'
describe
'1131' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKX' 'sip-files00031.txt'
7dc7a9f18d4835700e152ac6bc7ff0f4
a2e1179aeebe3a2702c1117289135393c2fcaf01
describe
'7900' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKY' 'sip-files00031thm.jpg'
a951960d10af51b22b0ec95a71b6a145
f7a248db1d6b47026602b1981bdfc197551f231a
'2011-12-13T06:21:23-05:00'
describe
'719659' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMKZ' 'sip-files00032.jp2'
d10cebdcc9d7f3a0b08fb34c3ac329e4
18ab8548701ceffa31b611321fd99e7b332bccc0
'2011-12-13T06:18:55-05:00'
describe
'174138' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLA' 'sip-files00032.jpg'
8846c7273bde24330ccb9a5ce439c8e4
91e8bd5fb9f8a2a50a801eea9e9eb6746b1b4dc3
describe
'3571' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLB' 'sip-files00032.pro'
bd70148c7abacbe0d234904b0986624c
0b35542841c3be41847987b9892607ff16dc2ff0
describe
'40616' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLC' 'sip-files00032.QC.jpg'
9e0e59c3c7b9169a156caed09372692b
292428ca476e24d381a63aa4429e0001b9dce42d
'2011-12-13T06:19:13-05:00'
describe
'5770892' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLD' 'sip-files00032.tif'
4e63c2021dc549cd71b24d49b48896cd
e1a60ff770bc5cec9c3dee8453ed27558b94f43c
'2011-12-13T06:22:27-05:00'
describe
'395' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLE' 'sip-files00032.txt'
714c6c80c728cc9e797282c6aa8b9dff
f2a5f1b4d044746ef5e6951cc87c7e1e1fb6525b
'2011-12-13T06:22:31-05:00'
describe
Invalid character
'9325' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLF' 'sip-files00032thm.jpg'
0ec18c97db8ecd3cb33f6e23dfcb6c30
99291252ec60285916d2efaef513c77feed8b0a9
describe
'713322' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLG' 'sip-files00033.jp2'
54c7261915e912713c050d33c9ed18b9
16279978422a61d16dbd9f553511293d888d4f31
describe
'169721' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLH' 'sip-files00033.jpg'
1882a71ae018acd7c688cde8ce25ab17
61d9913109c5320d77785924fd2c36e56f25df4d
'2011-12-13T06:18:38-05:00'
describe
'100370' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLI' 'sip-files00033.pro'
2d052727ef100ff49ca4b9a017caadee
5f757e6dbf7797e4ce6084931e71529198a9aaae
'2011-12-13T06:21:24-05:00'
describe
'45224' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLJ' 'sip-files00033.QC.jpg'
49e2ba751f659a6ba4ec812ce8ed9fdc
f0eea52e8ec01e7e939bbc186b9e11e8f3674c30
describe
'5720552' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLK' 'sip-files00033.tif'
cb2336bf8e4ce34fa160cef1ca502ad9
06a0421b30769c1644750654cd661f09277b847c
'2011-12-13T06:20:35-05:00'
describe
'4207' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLL' 'sip-files00033.txt'
5f19735bf9a95ad7750b630c1567b395
07b031c82c80115ad31be91dcfe886f87f020cfc
'2011-12-13T06:20:59-05:00'
describe
'10166' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLM' 'sip-files00033thm.jpg'
02db014ae84f4e825a90e9ffece1b7b8
45776bc19a2b6687018c87b40aeaa893a0347109
describe
'776901' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLN' 'sip-files00034.jp2'
9e44fffba8d5021232254be61ddd99b2
df7d0dd2dd7d9051c171935042156bf0c2ce9441
describe
'150377' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLO' 'sip-files00034.jpg'
488b7b90da9a90c6d349072359f35a09
f40cb5239842722dc45f1b67dcae549aefc1b3aa
describe
'100760' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLP' 'sip-files00034.pro'
1a738ea1917effba8de649f637dd5de6
4a566c6e73d89a277638f0ab4b125a813b75c6cf
'2011-12-13T06:20:33-05:00'
describe
'38406' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLQ' 'sip-files00034.QC.jpg'
61fd1a715f198554b0d38148ab97eb10
8dd6c62dfebd81fe98bdcf16e9f99f0af2c8468a
'2011-12-13T06:22:28-05:00'
describe
'6229344' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLR' 'sip-files00034.tif'
4ce979c22a751b13bdcecbd004fd06c9
487dadaec7e018a4c834434f9eab4152df768a9c
describe
'4144' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLS' 'sip-files00034.txt'
8c2e3825ac7df7f537bb134ffb5bccbb
e98bf78dd0930fa5c31c06c1a32ec462e27d5688
'2011-12-13T06:20:40-05:00'
describe
'8885' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLT' 'sip-files00034thm.jpg'
c0fffb490cc97a33ff7c689a78c41b40
b4d90675789dd391e5302a22192f3614ae7fdc95
describe
'798066' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLU' 'sip-files00035.jp2'
f1a790b04edf39bf53a34b4c07212242
3159a4924c160ad895c6472ab0ac4777a4ba61b1
describe
'140021' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLV' 'sip-files00035.jpg'
ec4179dd3a137b7c0d9a30528f0d0194
95d7e17bc7c081c091ff216e0f68c8c94cbd30cb
describe
'102157' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLW' 'sip-files00035.pro'
faef9f0479191ad93e0b355dc7247828
14f81d1e1ff1eafccae7ef30b4babb58aa2594bd
describe
'35181' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLX' 'sip-files00035.QC.jpg'
303b9df8ee7c21096017b3cab7d608fe
a30d7b493acf538f08a712160423aff849865a67
describe
'6398212' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLY' 'sip-files00035.tif'
3e1881916c8af058711cc504f58dec2b
d4fa4042433e2c5668cadb4183f949b37bfb746d
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMLZ' 'sip-files00035.txt'
059602cad26acdd81efe409c350154e2
e61d60a58fa61619e83a5b3ea7c2a523be65a535
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMA' 'sip-files00035thm.jpg'
f813f2a6bd1de3f6359a44d6de27ec2a
22dba7a9f2c2b08e0076e330ae303b4a5acd64a5
describe
'789591' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMB' 'sip-files00036.jp2'
6445c56785b277aebaffc0dac757f3ee
4d1b5efc53894a5ade08aed64fd3280a9a00968b
describe
'165590' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMC' 'sip-files00036.jpg'
4255abdf92fb9d5ccde92632984339b2
fce9c6056cddc3c6f64e4daa32daf9f8f54cfbcb
'2011-12-13T06:20:47-05:00'
describe
'37127' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMD' 'sip-files00036.pro'
8ddb7ff505eac51cadad7e3732ad8984
3a19a06a2b332a8609d9d02564c2b1bf8c76abee
describe
'41738' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMME' 'sip-files00036.QC.jpg'
b1b1a2539f865a91d4648e63da13bec5
588c1446c2187ffc5067ae542f4e6ef4c5e3ae77
'2011-12-13T06:19:07-05:00'
describe
'6331312' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMF' 'sip-files00036.tif'
c89474c8885140c7ac5f9f377c0def7d
79fcce7e32e858fe7af5f766c215a445ab106183
'2011-12-13T06:21:39-05:00'
describe
'1620' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMG' 'sip-files00036.txt'
4b08b1abf022f2334b3ddb9861197fde
94d04fc4349e70357898f31b3631a2e26b2829fe
describe
Invalid character
'9668' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMH' 'sip-files00036thm.jpg'
6530295b464ad0a7475a54609e9196d4
8bbbddb30313d63ea0b5a683b55ed3a7ee26503d
describe
'784444' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMI' 'sip-files00037.jp2'
3baffe4eb0ca88a989ed2788bd94f77c
6a4e461145181c06e96b6907f94dc7ba330169e7
describe
'149864' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMJ' 'sip-files00037.jpg'
31b22a01bf7a88cb2ccab61306fb588a
069e05940a36b5210d325d8ce2da049c118a4769
'2011-12-13T06:21:25-05:00'
describe
'82776' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMK' 'sip-files00037.pro'
c0922d9222a0c9f9715e828a263f18e8
40ce9f97efd2117b5fcabc34d7c82dea425a833b
describe
'37550' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMML' 'sip-files00037.QC.jpg'
92aac354e4b010ba074c6d2f4eaffafd
48dd52e670cbb2fe0f03c7f3621657af3171cf4d
describe
'6290908' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMM' 'sip-files00037.tif'
090c5cc051c100b346fa26e9711c7d88
4dea7defe7636a21ae696e4089d4ffdf8f275a82
'2011-12-13T06:21:49-05:00'
describe
'3472' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMN' 'sip-files00037.txt'
c76bc0615ae312aa0c582fd9caa96ae5
50f5c032c9f3b607c9dcfd226bba78df5b81df92
describe
'8560' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMO' 'sip-files00037thm.jpg'
6606ecdfb0737bed709a0a23a1d71033
e8cc397f39471d10036958b263c9a4cda632f8bc
describe
'798092' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMP' 'sip-files00038.jp2'
3a24662859513b871922baab01f3645a
cfa33fd66194b1145c37f543c3f4ae91de3386d1
describe
'152102' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMQ' 'sip-files00038.jpg'
bc20aec7d11c7035c3eb209416724eb3
6fd595202c3045754e409a925d6b4f1a43798a4a
describe
'109601' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMR' 'sip-files00038.pro'
be451187b1ea5bfafc5caac2f8fcbe8d
9e101a17a8547d652dd5baaaf17272e2db3512d2
'2011-12-13T06:21:10-05:00'
describe
'38825' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMS' 'sip-files00038.QC.jpg'
b3961b5f34d0c2a580109243c4952e1d
9d53f4f9b3c5012c8f6d3f3ba834c5f6f0d45cef
describe
'6398916' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMT' 'sip-files00038.tif'
bebf5e5356ebbb23759307f976f80e4c
e55670a978260212d2740dc5ab6db630f91ae181
'2011-12-13T06:18:52-05:00'
describe
'4546' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMU' 'sip-files00038.txt'
be38e9119a350432c566c9bc7948b5d4
35a84951bf035697ece99dce351dbd31e4710488
'2011-12-13T06:22:40-05:00'
describe
'8926' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMV' 'sip-files00038thm.jpg'
13fcfd3644434dabf2f25038db8640a3
3c1f5c9136061ae159c443e90510d8d4b3805e10
'2011-12-13T06:20:29-05:00'
describe
'798101' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMW' 'sip-files00039.jp2'
c8208203d4c0c88d3d3158c3afced159
91c71fb078273db32c01797386f5fab3b84324f4
describe
'148771' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMX' 'sip-files00039.jpg'
d43e931e05dc118bab77a7d479424aa9
a685463f5dbf6d7c5cf1bca7deddc52673dddf89
describe
'108395' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMY' 'sip-files00039.pro'
645528694f868e6c83c70d3c57152deb
0a9cc20481756412b790c0c96cfcc48fbec1d822
describe
'37299' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMMZ' 'sip-files00039.QC.jpg'
57ed966d3b9f184375945c3e9e94699f
d1366ee41c3793f3b9f62b71d1bc665a9239d48e
describe
'6398676' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNA' 'sip-files00039.tif'
d3143cae115e8202969c83cec13c0f10
d6890ba72c7be61114edf52b75534514e35dd6ab
'2011-12-13T06:21:26-05:00'
describe
'4454' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNB' 'sip-files00039.txt'
0af3e2aaf7faca4fca7a0458ceebfd31
6ca3fd356f793f1dfc920af2fb38ede507be2d30
describe
'8422' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNC' 'sip-files00039thm.jpg'
23eba4c3eaeeb610d228d77813b2bd5c
c6985e41c9fec04f600ebbef2ff87df3b9d73ef4
describe
'766189' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMND' 'sip-files00040.jp2'
d76918a6f0cddc2d0f1772d6a689fa4c
d73a10426f24d784c6b75d27a5069b8903496f4c
'2011-12-13T06:19:15-05:00'
describe
'167537' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNE' 'sip-files00040.jpg'
baee03bf3023a4af1435b60028e9a97e
51e1704110488000c803d11fc06f9c3dd179ab71
describe
'23347' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNF' 'sip-files00040.pro'
2ad0061ff595b6d641951002a6a6e726
58d09b0654b3440b91bea490845057a36dd727ec
'2011-12-13T06:21:30-05:00'
describe
'38779' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNG' 'sip-files00040.QC.jpg'
553f3afb719d09bc306c330182b844ac
3584777e1a8bac7d111e60c39b5465e1bd36d280
'2011-12-13T06:19:54-05:00'
describe
'6144028' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNH' 'sip-files00040.tif'
3906ee52e9d8c11006944a361cf47086
f167f41422406b82bfd543d56eae8a500a8883eb
'2011-12-13T06:20:53-05:00'
describe
'1239' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNI' 'sip-files00040.txt'
0dfcf285e603f3d2cbdad0e3f4249340
ff797f8e41a1a7a64aa8605a59189c68553b2225
describe
Invalid character
'8705' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNJ' 'sip-files00040thm.jpg'
eeb253684c414ffc1f31606cc4d57d85
b7a65d01bfcbd2b2d987fdaa319a8b818f7489fc
'2011-12-13T06:21:15-05:00'
describe
'798053' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNK' 'sip-files00041.jp2'
f78ab48e9066f5156aecd8b8ae612c43
7abc4d6c8b09608d28959aaf2dfe36c5bc3abcfb
describe
'138968' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNL' 'sip-files00041.jpg'
255f7545d957dac0d55dab2a8f479861
a2992a8af5795aaf9521d26712ab97c773788c96
'2011-12-13T06:19:28-05:00'
describe
'103862' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNM' 'sip-files00041.pro'
3da71a06b760b5286b9f7a73b8f748a6
c6f3f38c925beb999afacd39c469250c6f96dad8
'2011-12-13T06:20:01-05:00'
describe
'35070' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNN' 'sip-files00041.QC.jpg'
fcec4563a38919b60a50973199ffd35c
3aeba3e831b6014e05d07fb046f89d970c0a2a1b
describe
'6398492' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNO' 'sip-files00041.tif'
fa1980e08bb916e738be44e51fad9da6
60ab39ac43ba7001b676ed22c32e3e6faed1486c
'2011-12-13T06:22:29-05:00'
describe
'4279' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNP' 'sip-files00041.txt'
c1bd074c79f6eaa689df92d24a47ee0e
66a2607ec56a89c872154f79968b87b273750fe0
describe
'8008' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNQ' 'sip-files00041thm.jpg'
94e7ceb347186b6b2ecc2bcae166d692
f233e18b4c3f117ed583fcce844f5cfc989bdb9b
describe
'757825' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNR' 'sip-files00042.jp2'
3207fae0abbfe800c4ad06f568ab1a58
230ba88e6cda2227748ccf513d5e2c05bd8b5559
describe
'165234' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNS' 'sip-files00042.jpg'
538578e5795a3955d095626dc9666bba
a924a2bb048069dff6cff1b74e8ca5d642ff9f5a
'2011-12-13T06:22:12-05:00'
describe
'109046' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNT' 'sip-files00042.pro'
34d8cf6d7f6de62fa2698edc7cb75855
83ef6327c9d9c75e016303d2fcc8627af3b8d4a5
'2011-12-13T06:21:35-05:00'
describe
'42550' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNU' 'sip-files00042.QC.jpg'
2eb1237efe61970d6c4f8124cb267715
9d3089903ccb878107cf66172d1d492f5829ac30
'2011-12-13T06:22:34-05:00'
describe
'6076892' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNV' 'sip-files00042.tif'
db6e262c45c7cd8c198e4e1737d0fefc
ecf2e8a23dafab36c3a8417bf89b76d0431e279a
'2011-12-13T06:19:18-05:00'
describe
'4641' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNW' 'sip-files00042.txt'
845373c40ab9e0702a0b193af9842ace
550b10a07561cc6290438b81d8cac47c44111310
describe
'9446' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNX' 'sip-files00042thm.jpg'
d8b8fc355852bc75edff00113f19e878
e471c8eec90d9a245f8d2445a0c5a8bd530aab20
describe
'718877' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNY' 'sip-files00043.jp2'
867d0c867290147b28dfc988c20ef495
5607fbaf45e917d2470cd9a81c64fc9c14fbfc8c
describe
'161795' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMNZ' 'sip-files00043.jpg'
45e8f223114ed75da2fbc793d6f54b72
924824fc5d6826599124177b03e52b62f457415b
describe
'106899' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOA' 'sip-files00043.pro'
98030a173d0c27b2399e7bc5e1abb3b7
3ac8c7179a1f505fa8a08cf9b225d2d996fad5da
describe
'42130' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOB' 'sip-files00043.QC.jpg'
c185f7c84655fc0c24cc8dc12589d656
339818a566c962ae3ebe9eed69395b5af5a06ce1
describe
'5764500' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOC' 'sip-files00043.tif'
7bc8b89d6594ee5be9618f2d8557ee07
04f95de64dd9f88631bfa43ccade52baaafc030c
describe
'4357' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOD' 'sip-files00043.txt'
c0c0c37e18e2d4a276dac00642ad45f8
0620d839a2dcaf9e2e44d9249875e5612465c1d5
describe
'9342' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOE' 'sip-files00043thm.jpg'
d585b71d660e189a7e11a0d8006b0c10
99b474727918fbe0908b76a8af41df202b9d9b1b
'2011-12-13T06:21:40-05:00'
describe
'768418' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOF' 'sip-files00044.jp2'
6a1c7c6458aff91efbad30aca7b52def
cd95f9b4d41f1af8e1df1eb8db01b7ff145aaa92
describe
'125710' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOG' 'sip-files00044.jpg'
4095ad107cf47daff229f39a891c8997
35cf809fe2ee9155cc8f08336d7bf53dff381635
describe
'1429' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOH' 'sip-files00044.pro'
a9e0a826cf356aaf7a46b163f20ff1ec
af9910f218498c20b9f4af63dbcba7de55cecc08
describe
'29024' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOI' 'sip-files00044.QC.jpg'
2d012cf57e724bf31cdc29955e77d598
8ee0de03f2a44d835302708d31e14d08b498069a
describe
'6159188' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOJ' 'sip-files00044.tif'
0e99dfd58d48e1ef523ddac73ddd960e
c8cc4d96663db8f1730d8872b18c06db9223a0f4
'2011-12-13T06:19:05-05:00'
describe
'283' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOK' 'sip-files00044.txt'
23b62469c52ad2ba33f03504eb733f94
9b71b990f8d9988816b37ddc1a07ef3be8429e23
'2011-12-13T06:20:51-05:00'
describe
'7297' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOL' 'sip-files00044thm.jpg'
cf17fe05a3874ee00a76f85cd4a23bac
04bd10f8f3f15c4dc1e0638e3ee855643b078754
describe
'768426' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOM' 'sip-files00045.jp2'
ff0fd8c93855d0517b8ca249c1d9ad1c
86bd24fafbafeb776b71bc91dd770aec6e98a3db
'2011-12-13T06:20:31-05:00'
describe
'112563' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMON' 'sip-files00045.jpg'
247323c03cb5586693afa16e6f14e16d
d0a910300e5fa4548576b1438009d082c3a986c7
describe
'72040' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOO' 'sip-files00045.pro'
56258bde411c9f2a0c6d80f960617bda
2daf3fbf97bfd12625409e6753b5ff96e6945a66
'2011-12-13T06:19:56-05:00'
describe
'30419' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOP' 'sip-files00045.QC.jpg'
7db9a9511b55071d56c42db5b7bcd198
b27cd1e1dd57007fe18c0ed2cca886b588dac52f
describe
'6160676' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOQ' 'sip-files00045.tif'
e6dfe254e2f8b29761d3d36d27969376
e9824ebc82466a83efa0927b2a78b152a71e0bf9
describe
'3117' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOR' 'sip-files00045.txt'
cf4571562aa44f1b35e576fa5aea4f8e
9c43a5e1b22eb2489ba39c770de95b9974ffcadf
describe
'7903' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOS' 'sip-files00045thm.jpg'
d7dbdd651ee00926dced3fc9afae0fa5
17c5e4b08233342cbaae969af5fd8c7f8796b29e
describe
'798060' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOT' 'sip-files00046.jp2'
c549d4b706f2039215a8da5ed630c0c6
c6f817194a664d57fef944777fd34a0f7dce7a16
describe
'139181' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOU' 'sip-files00046.jpg'
3ceefd1c04eb0e413bf2e2e6c46ebe8c
b2b2dad231809320d44c5a8c685b1c308268abcd
'2011-12-13T06:19:02-05:00'
describe
'101343' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOV' 'sip-files00046.pro'
41bf9d1580ce358d67c93b79f1785565
adfd6c269f8ab4da83b3ff22f866b91735385b23
describe
'35847' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOW' 'sip-files00046.QC.jpg'
af5aac27fe6fd5d0464f5792eb95748a
caa47acc96dd6c56e68ebcdfc1d90d5b091b2420
'2011-12-13T06:20:06-05:00'
describe
'6398840' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOX' 'sip-files00046.tif'
a8b0b374642d7183c593f92834d9df44
55193ccdff12c4fdb4085cc430b8a09201eeaf40
describe
'4208' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOY' 'sip-files00046.txt'
a60af2fe979d7b768d92b5c1c66328b1
a2e21c9d1e82ae28f2465e0809e666c077cc4646
describe
'8333' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMOZ' 'sip-files00046thm.jpg'
c56a897f1b3c249bbc18eb5d3874a9d6
2bcba802c9598dc7fa1d84ed79a683aba402c754
describe
'798008' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPA' 'sip-files00047.jp2'
561fcad169c81055c505e394a7301286
b70340a9209f840a7bcc0931a9caad5fcf3daad7
describe
'134141' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPB' 'sip-files00047.jpg'
eed4b0f1e279cf63c744b0db2ba1a6f8
2df5d28c988c5a77124fc8b43643cea58d6508ce
'2011-12-13T06:20:56-05:00'
describe
'100221' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPC' 'sip-files00047.pro'
de34f50c7527375c2df9bd1658acd340
7f5d5768acd539e0723bdc940a67daf019b7e59c
describe
'34043' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPD' 'sip-files00047.QC.jpg'
3df9e2426872d1dc89223ab3f2c48dde
941c8cea6746e8f5884f7745b3cfcc28e7c03952
describe
'6398156' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPE' 'sip-files00047.tif'
afd34b042583ae130631badda322c80b
0783842ac2605fdfeecb7b45885005d7c4e1a85d
'2011-12-13T06:20:11-05:00'
describe
'4174' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPF' 'sip-files00047.txt'
2e6af4d34fc3faa9ebdbee68dd237c8f
0b9d390b2f43da7a829c3ebd859ce92e5070dde0
describe
'7807' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPG' 'sip-files00047thm.jpg'
04a966c1f9d1a4bc9dabc28f6c8e39d4
91aadebba6d851eedfca92c9ee7c0898d71268fb
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPH' 'sip-files00048.jp2'
424b9ae1e2697d2d3c0e11d6c980dbbd
a8dd5b879a3a0141e78f2f5b7e72efe2e302ad7e
describe
'132415' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPI' 'sip-files00048.jpg'
7b64fdbc8037d8896deb2c4ce7a08288
42236c4ec5666d3122c448abf77b61b909ef7edd
describe
'68588' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPJ' 'sip-files00048.pro'
d5b976e38cd054ce71f96a5627d4c972
0a886aa2851adb0b451ef4462a5d2246ed99b545
describe
'32424' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPK' 'sip-files00048.QC.jpg'
2a99614e62cd9d99ad0b0c4daa2e09fd
c7bdb4f56892295745b9471a343745422b5e5921
'2011-12-13T06:20:09-05:00'
describe
'6398468' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPL' 'sip-files00048.tif'
b3f431b16d23670fd8e10e3bcaf709fd
a9625d7fb5d91fc00e81b8aa9b5130a3e0c79023
'2011-12-13T06:20:10-05:00'
describe
'2974' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPM' 'sip-files00048.txt'
5cd8006ca5c7fbc8e0b25e8194da0e89
36a4bff2a05e78ed8b0e93bc0d874778f735a5e8
describe
Invalid character
'8084' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPN' 'sip-files00048thm.jpg'
fe1fb8de92bf982f63e4b3bfc3a20340
a199af62cad00e9ca376d7294253ecfdd846595b
describe
'798055' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPO' 'sip-files00049.jp2'
038a1a2586b4ae6da790268c3ed7ccbd
52dbc8103eda7be69eeb0406dd40314d7a5c434b
describe
'143021' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPP' 'sip-files00049.jpg'
fb4c2bc46c5a38db2766ea4fb9f2b932
b048727185258711b18f188d1c61308d6e328c62
describe
'103945' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPQ' 'sip-files00049.pro'
03d4aaa4a346b8859a1c5903c296c949
0dc76a8462bd01b45499352d024c2879844a7f3c
describe
'36594' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPR' 'sip-files00049.QC.jpg'
a86ed2ce58ff28dda3d0fb06eb9b21c5
2172e131d8727c85c009c82fb10f982d1f150dab
'2011-12-13T06:19:57-05:00'
describe
'6398728' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPS' 'sip-files00049.tif'
0aa29407d7e02a5ba8d774848ba4d023
50f10729fed653a999eae8d68b518c8ba7c685da
describe
'4333' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPT' 'sip-files00049.txt'
f6a30b325dc14c1095b93c59c51d1000
faef7f7b4cb39a9368d96977e422df16e23b19ca
'2011-12-13T06:18:44-05:00'
describe
'8031' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPU' 'sip-files00049thm.jpg'
2298cedeb9c80424d97334bc03a29b80
76795701f04d0d22fd84b9ffacebd006a22e108d
describe
'798085' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPV' 'sip-files00050.jp2'
79a4925057322a6b76f18d6c18f2fa29
2fc134302509aa8166788b73657a4088d93d697f
'2011-12-13T06:22:46-05:00'
describe
'148725' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPW' 'sip-files00050.jpg'
6705e996f8a94eedbcb7276ea108cb46
166b00e7ed5f8cb350354528050d135d75c923a8
'2011-12-13T06:20:25-05:00'
describe
'102433' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPX' 'sip-files00050.pro'
d7a86d268e19c3c3553868033d71fc04
8bbe3711400668f18381f7859ac012705e941bd2
describe
'37362' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPY' 'sip-files00050.QC.jpg'
84555ee1c5ef2458322ebfd8c84b2c41
a88ca44a4a05262073d213b7298ac90d69556e9a
describe
'6398928' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMPZ' 'sip-files00050.tif'
1a40fc6735178755b13cb5ce6496d504
a0c545d67f4ff36c75c2df15a420e136744c77b5
describe
'4245' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQA' 'sip-files00050.txt'
136200ed4ab60face3c31a53b4ae80b1
ef2dd98efa9b55fc5694007fa9800fb1e44101f3
describe
Invalid character
'8677' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQB' 'sip-files00050thm.jpg'
36128ea05badaa8a442962c9c04ec042
ea6d9ae37fd97de998bcf79e0838ae2c6fa9496e
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQC' 'sip-files00051.jp2'
fdec5763c6e70612a7d25f430a1b067a
39b0aad017c5b10519fa10e505111d82ee864f3c
describe
'141107' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQD' 'sip-files00051.jpg'
f82b2aa6a4f3a5fc3c0f09adadaf54a8
2624977c5c8c587cd35f7a101e4031ee28fd6f39
'2011-12-13T06:21:56-05:00'
describe
'101607' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQE' 'sip-files00051.pro'
6cd56693df90ec941c0569c010532815
4395dc7d017c7292edb3461197b7306314fa1920
'2011-12-13T06:19:25-05:00'
describe
'36429' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQF' 'sip-files00051.QC.jpg'
d4829a81eb69099e5edda16490f47f2c
1f6e098b96235a441a47c82e27df32db57e7432c
'2011-12-13T06:20:12-05:00'
describe
'6398708' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQG' 'sip-files00051.tif'
d4efbcd9994e067fa1ccc248dbf5fb72
a376f58cb454d3fe8bf869b3166b57d77d5a740c
describe
'4196' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQH' 'sip-files00051.txt'
e1d7e8d212115480078e43d064a7545b
59d9aa64febba8082df257fcd47e6028a25adef6
describe
'8127' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQI' 'sip-files00051thm.jpg'
2b02424819cc72972a50eb3064cf173f
6139dfcbfecd510ed4c390ff01a1cc6e76f5d931
describe
'798069' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQJ' 'sip-files00052.jp2'
cfbb719c3ffdc655229e3426633d8e11
f4f7116395bf35f1fb14c4e8ae5e7cc43f5ff638
describe
'137360' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQK' 'sip-files00052.jpg'
29c42102a3836c7b8e8275776205c383
82510f60d47587dc0434b96d8a91851dab74efc1
'2011-12-13T06:22:14-05:00'
describe
'2688' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQL' 'sip-files00052.pro'
795ebc79ceed1f97dab929466006f1dc
4f27c243ac8529977214c39e9fd8fd9801a0cb10
describe
'30548' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQM' 'sip-files00052.QC.jpg'
772aba49d483f1228807c59eef999786
efa838b50a859b15b3730367192cf0efce3f0a09
describe
'6397368' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQN' 'sip-files00052.tif'
90ef83e746264ef67b6e81f9a1beec10
27bc9ee8211b7db028828e4d380a23e598ca4fbf
'2011-12-13T06:21:11-05:00'
describe
'433' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQO' 'sip-files00052.txt'
840fd5ae55a536d74f2ea5337f27aafc
1ae80de5b3336596b1bd0d76f38dc99802dcd1e7
describe
Invalid character
'7509' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQP' 'sip-files00052thm.jpg'
328079fea041ac3ed3db4df0d5e60773
4ad938622aa81228602134311ff842a6563a3551
describe
'797995' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQQ' 'sip-files00053.jp2'
dc7af63bfe731a314c1d7f47a9928c4c
c32a0c56c106a5ca59504a28ec8e7c9ccca568ac
describe
'143647' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQR' 'sip-files00053.jpg'
5348265e2875f7fa0684d019eb88169f
5f0bdb7e7377d17c1d15657d8311fffcccbab6f3
describe
'104437' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQS' 'sip-files00053.pro'
2fcbee30f57ba180111f1c842f10b6dc
7927b85964a0432bbf0fa65d7c40820d78833cc7
'2011-12-13T06:20:57-05:00'
describe
'35967' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQT' 'sip-files00053.QC.jpg'
dda6faa3fa414684099cd7cc6e456e85
f018288a7bdba5417d8b2c6ba1f3fea92abb0c76
describe
'6398712' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQU' 'sip-files00053.tif'
c997cb4ff6cf14eae55564984758f286
fb5659afed59ca9a24695d489a25b439c3e273e1
describe
'4315' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQV' 'sip-files00053.txt'
052696c01b640517b28cac58eb38b471
1dc686a19ffc8265fde3b31b80fc2a8662800724
describe
'8139' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQW' 'sip-files00053thm.jpg'
07597913b0f28b4a166c14cfeff7627b
ff88e752fa2955ecfdea3a6af93bca77245b5d31
describe
'798084' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQX' 'sip-files00054.jp2'
03a37e8a37f8a0d5994a6d9f90738035
34851d0907748f1efd762b7438cfa2672208145b
describe
'147765' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQY' 'sip-files00054.jpg'
eddeb5fa7ab1dda27bc370cb21fe3afb
7ecb85c9c951be89417c6df1a693b11eafaed311
describe
'109997' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMQZ' 'sip-files00054.pro'
4e8d534f999486d5f60eaaaf992f77c3
73fd29f9022d3b7fcf67ce8a158f944d5f184f13
'2011-12-13T06:20:14-05:00'
describe
'37365' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRA' 'sip-files00054.QC.jpg'
af5bb377ca01f8957cfaca0686859026
4b3fce9ea0e9e357ef58485984525705b20fcf07
'2011-12-13T06:21:00-05:00'
describe
'6398572' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRB' 'sip-files00054.tif'
a716290e2c6ed64a0583d1a622cc4b1d
b5daf322d0e7774b100a6cd140763e45c7e06f1a
describe
'4525' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRC' 'sip-files00054.txt'
bf362f02d62c5a675d642771c8dc7c7e
b67752d73f13019a8fd43ff65282da3fbd23cab9
'2011-12-13T06:19:11-05:00'
describe
'8428' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRD' 'sip-files00054thm.jpg'
04a7890076a5582ba4fc42ab3e672f75
a32bb2ed6a3ec10bcf20660c6b03ea909a4a1fcc
describe
'798016' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRE' 'sip-files00055.jp2'
daa94b01214ee79736398e85d55bdbeb
0e420ad8340f324ce950ab40cf1f99c0a1b7ca2c
describe
'138913' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRF' 'sip-files00055.jpg'
55b84b6d8a2ecce7dff205d68e39c471
bd4012f0a595d711edba32fbe6c36d7a76645b9f
describe
'69795' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRG' 'sip-files00055.pro'
a1db804779f8c9992f9effd132fc2027
37849c9127a3f0cc0ebbf16ab3872b57fca57b82
describe
'34466' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRH' 'sip-files00055.QC.jpg'
60ccabfd1dadd00d58908cafd7885f8b
5248b8ca0db3b003f2ac971e9a69a85371f93512
describe
'6398500' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRI' 'sip-files00055.tif'
ed8401e05ab5eb3edb1f3c99c5b3200a
35570387dfb62791888ce5fafbeb48eb63877c27
'2011-12-13T06:20:54-05:00'
describe
'3346' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRJ' 'sip-files00055.txt'
05f81aed45e3163c287a1fe144497970
27116d9036e04921df97a96b8cf66670fd2a17d6
describe
'8467' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRK' 'sip-files00055thm.jpg'
c198fc56fc8bdc714e2ee793768fe494
03d001ce0a87fe8fdea9596827714a65eea285f2
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRL' 'sip-files00056.jp2'
8bb748c210130e3f8ec5d591f8afa552
7c13cf84746250e33cf1b4c51ec7a19c474a539b
describe
'137087' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRM' 'sip-files00056.jpg'
70414f8bb91cf0046b035cf4f8eeec09
0a1eb6c7ec2156f0c639543a150558bb6bd68e4c
describe
'102605' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRN' 'sip-files00056.pro'
62cda19adb9b2137044c3f2ddd337277
cc3506934bc34724a34ab991b96af6f7083e665e
describe
'35266' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRO' 'sip-files00056.QC.jpg'
d3535124dc3b6cdabcaf1061351d5f32
4fde197e205ae90af1649e3da547b20e920d112c
describe
'6398208' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRP' 'sip-files00056.tif'
8cded1f82aec9c3c58705a98180e986b
0c6ead8e6bfdf9157708bcbc494f2d79ca7dbe1e
describe
'4194' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRQ' 'sip-files00056.txt'
2ebbadb7b6b3b50a2d6ee700985dddbd
2acbe382248af6432e4c35152ea3f13c7e130e8f
describe
'8217' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRR' 'sip-files00056thm.jpg'
f486ba7575aad09d40ec31d27ee52941
0e36450b7989410892d7d9d347449b44b074c390
describe
'798087' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRS' 'sip-files00057.jp2'
5350306d140b57c9018effda956fdbf1
4a91ce917973d11cccb8d2783db62879da22471b
describe
'142093' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRT' 'sip-files00057.jpg'
0bd6b0bd8433a0176aca0c5e735e1ca9
f6ae43d231ed4df8f7018d77913d6aff82a2f7aa
'2011-12-13T06:22:20-05:00'
describe
'101968' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRU' 'sip-files00057.pro'
57a3caa5c5e9b2ba2ac4cc1f7ffa63dd
97c1bfd6e976c3d137a06f822024557fdfca77db
describe
'36996' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRV' 'sip-files00057.QC.jpg'
ba7e5c6d91114ab1eef63308f6a456e4
1ddeffaccc9118d05a5dfffe8ebfebf18e0ea987
describe
'6398700' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRW' 'sip-files00057.tif'
e5da546b4bae48e0aa90b95723c7e07d
a08a75b69b6aa678e4188a3560b29ddd48c51d01
describe
'4188' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRX' 'sip-files00057.txt'
54f4aa21070f5f9544e94c83967e4661
50b43c305ede9857ca374b365c729b81e0828e44
describe
'8512' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRY' 'sip-files00057thm.jpg'
4ca682ce71185aefb89533995618b69b
6800bf8fa8b942a4edbe67b985d2417640b4da3a
describe
'798022' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMRZ' 'sip-files00058.jp2'
645d35605cebd9039acbc68db5bd487b
96c26656bd17dd0107b9f0cd9e96b2d04cc81b58
describe
'140445' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSA' 'sip-files00058.jpg'
e5ff40b1f337f3071b184c352fc59542
0c5cf3816318ab940ede801f28eb101e865e6983
describe
'102968' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSB' 'sip-files00058.pro'
a005a0bf8ce3debb07c31f09fa05ee27
7b77695aaa709fce4ed428ee75230d78b320ab5a
describe
'35685' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSC' 'sip-files00058.QC.jpg'
2c6f4d55ab0f7c4b78a9e3735bd947a4
ddc8c2e94c5af0ceb65120f4749c3d304493eef0
describe
'6398552' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSD' 'sip-files00058.tif'
97601e5a25253a879c5bb0f194e9afd0
eacad69fbf03c8c7f91c870f3ff7c53c616c96ab
describe
'4308' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSE' 'sip-files00058.txt'
c769aea49533c5b677acce0a1c95d907
eaa407c3853a5d0a5a2f9b8d3386990e4cce0676
'2011-12-13T06:20:38-05:00'
describe
'7876' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSF' 'sip-files00058thm.jpg'
89e7909ac58281055c3f1e8e1c4216a3
d7351c7d9360729c611d211341314589f722f660
describe
'798049' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSG' 'sip-files00059.jp2'
d174675815cb34c853316133ab487848
69438e697091f327d1f937f47629c65ceab8d6ba
describe
'127429' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSH' 'sip-files00059.jpg'
463c6c0ccd3cb7a03359e6540edd1a33
3ca846a0580072f17a652e05a2ee48ca0dec41a2
describe
'41265' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSI' 'sip-files00059.pro'
e5047446b0771dc7a7c95dc4fdfae657
2ed1cddd1371401418063377a17c3c0990bb5b5d
describe
'31451' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSJ' 'sip-files00059.QC.jpg'
fdd0c6d89c55216bd2146d16c864ff74
de4c204532e56b13d1084639a009b75df349e37a
'2011-12-13T06:20:23-05:00'
describe
'6397896' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSK' 'sip-files00059.tif'
edc31826788e5edd609ef5bf50e86848
521bde50f4cf38ee18cb4ae55b27a19c8f54a83f
'2011-12-13T06:19:42-05:00'
describe
'2058' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSL' 'sip-files00059.txt'
41e93ded9013d45c2237f3263f3af8ff
b88d2384ec78f7804bdf29077133dad1bb7e5919
describe
Invalid character
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSM' 'sip-files00059thm.jpg'
4795ddd41bcbef8ce1536fe9eeca5a58
684ed177f6246fb862ef1dffe1712ca436bf8974
describe
'771574' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSN' 'sip-files00060.jp2'
f3e948bf04414ad844997effce502d48
fbc074b8fb0a4152ffab75422d964c5807e4a8d1
describe
'141238' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSO' 'sip-files00060.jpg'
1874bf3a4e99a43632d095d02cbc974e
41e18b2d8022c9d4982e3ced0f83d09d00999551
describe
'108183' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSP' 'sip-files00060.pro'
ce0ed3dafe9c5002ea8b8d15960932e4
de81dfbfd1e932d5df609f53a49895e63c1d716f
describe
'35488' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSQ' 'sip-files00060.QC.jpg'
6cbfe2a017caa611f13b687ed0ed6b84
9810f34bc3f380421edbd3c8d6ed5bfcad23113f
describe
'6186396' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSR' 'sip-files00060.tif'
19a88f1d33cd602a57b2467e507bc487
d325c4615541b5c928a35b9e10403ff07d51ab6e
'2011-12-13T06:22:45-05:00'
describe
'4524' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSS' 'sip-files00060.txt'
d22bb3dab8a1d716487c10f4d15247fc
9cadd215a6b3340232e8562313fbd7b8e97ad2cc
describe
'7997' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMST' 'sip-files00060thm.jpg'
c8c8c35b9d531ba09bd2234aa097fe0f
2dba8ba815edfa13d874401d81489fb226a1618b
describe
'798095' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSU' 'sip-files00061.jp2'
d3964e655b469198bcf805553a2ada6e
13b4db385b0aab6b3cf6e4320eb11b8138d5edd0
describe
'153604' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSV' 'sip-files00061.jpg'
a4aca9474e82c6f0503d4bf5708d87f4
65dcae286321b20f16634f3ed63ae821ac003187
'2011-12-13T06:22:17-05:00'
describe
'112305' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSW' 'sip-files00061.pro'
65610bc29d0fbd484f522092eb37dcc7
d4aa7f8fc4949cb20121bd1b66549161abae041d
describe
'38796' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSX' 'sip-files00061.QC.jpg'
58b0964ea1b2cdaadb0c4a25f7890dc4
2f8b7f033d8d7a42c53db5048ce675974a8fbb7e
describe
'6398812' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSY' 'sip-files00061.tif'
2c0ecf2e28638c87d7db349c9835783e
158c4b01cfc9a996ea1c251879e635ae60c7c156
describe
'4571' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMSZ' 'sip-files00061.txt'
4ccba54fc2dec4030e02b01ad2b45b77
e683f6f5889d3727b60074bec3d83f163445ca95
'2011-12-13T06:20:24-05:00'
describe
'8569' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTA' 'sip-files00061thm.jpg'
dc52ba73678f8506a46d1081476bbdf8
16236c19bb04d814e8fba19c31679cc791b4a077
describe
'781299' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTB' 'sip-files00062.jp2'
47969d6ce3566bba4fc964a522da2b8d
0eb33948b5e7643a9a44e42fcf05499128d5de7a
describe
'144163' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTC' 'sip-files00062.jpg'
498cf15a80e4f05c9b0b0daacf0edcec
2134a660843aeb268ab0f0169b8613b3372561d6
'2011-12-13T06:22:10-05:00'
describe
'2165' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTD' 'sip-files00062.pro'
4c26fdff2d22e2885820588813ae2d47
4fd4c7f5d3ca906228fbbdf7ccb87476163dd689
describe
'32816' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTE' 'sip-files00062.QC.jpg'
521ff0731187039e626ac5f8074bad76
a7738f41ec72a57c600cb37b2c9970ed8efc787d
describe
'6266316' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTF' 'sip-files00062.tif'
fa41a4a7633f5d516e8581f5f96d064c
d23a08f1b564d5df3e33669bb3c7e24fa280b278
describe
'114' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTG' 'sip-files00062.txt'
1a41ec9bde14961d4e1f47c959d5b964
11c3e211c7062a718cbb41ec2b787e87ae639216
describe
Invalid character
'7779' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTH' 'sip-files00062thm.jpg'
c245c895a7b21d8a42b5056b3cf10cde
4f19fce4dd400b8b180b030d47f5dcbc705e02f9
describe
'798089' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTI' 'sip-files00063.jp2'
7b72b50d5d31278292ac237a12ee2596
52163977212ef7036f2ff9b746a8194a3d8d3397
describe
'138440' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTJ' 'sip-files00063.jpg'
746333ad5ab6c72de2979eeb37bc3d69
88117efaf4fb1f645503ced10d07cfad4573f2ea
describe
'103119' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTK' 'sip-files00063.pro'
7d524e0dcf929112d63bb4a33e601861
d410b7cbd366cb019550548e078b4c094900085d
'2011-12-13T06:20:46-05:00'
describe
'35411' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTL' 'sip-files00063.QC.jpg'
23ef92a8bb7f576c754b174d575d6ef5
a69bf1971f5551bf464c5be5e94b1f5a95ed0ba3
describe
'6398424' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTM' 'sip-files00063.tif'
332883517f337a3c4e5d7ea3c9437d3b
7ba2c973e93f75ded46d060ae7f5e215fbee7130
describe
'4280' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTN' 'sip-files00063.txt'
cb41104453f9a7b4d395375c7ca971ec
300692b1dde00c37c0aa867652723547101de051
describe
'7872' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTO' 'sip-files00063thm.jpg'
9a6cd22cd0fb9280eef6051b6ddc85fa
6d1322c82bf56707d0114bb8ed944fd2ac85bf0a
describe
'797965' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTP' 'sip-files00064.jp2'
7ca37a8ba51a4f192953214f2712c129
3150f8b6e0d383b11eb4338c6294c9cf875c67e4
describe
'148364' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTQ' 'sip-files00064.jpg'
64bb9b772928e5bff460b76fffce2a88
539844b2e0892a3b54b85c52c35fc11448f8b317
describe
'110953' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTR' 'sip-files00064.pro'
da696cadca756c4cd49be9d211127696
9fd97e69cc37f89a1098d4584da1af1988518cf6
'2011-12-13T06:19:17-05:00'
describe
'37821' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTS' 'sip-files00064.QC.jpg'
2a77c7692f2f7833d1555992130d34a3
897806efa92ab1bdc6daf011cc263eba1385f9b0
describe
'6398688' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTT' 'sip-files00064.tif'
28c63b4c2cce415ff383a8d5fdcc56a2
27bf5d55120d1e9a4187f75cde6f26d8371a75d0
describe
'4572' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTU' 'sip-files00064.txt'
28f3a8c784db2a761da6b656fce00397
cbe50f21f444e852a10813994740cb68a073949b
describe
'8469' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTV' 'sip-files00064thm.jpg'
ccb42b5ccd666c96d60d528e2dd178a7
9edaf45ff59e0a259dd0ec539c0b7cfa40935bdc
describe
'798034' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTW' 'sip-files00065.jp2'
b601bac3ec2e7f4786bf7d85f28d9be5
c24789c00e8e800d5be4af19b0254de3ab67d52f
describe
'144770' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTX' 'sip-files00065.jpg'
f3f50833aad6ba382dea3e88ef35814f
09a3bbc08fd346d12478770a3a48b747ad9f3538
describe
'106643' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTY' 'sip-files00065.pro'
5b1baf86aaff8157022a43e25f47eb30
94bd556cf108dd642506a8113f55f6506f3efbf1
describe
'37028' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMTZ' 'sip-files00065.QC.jpg'
05d58d049ae4e07e395140bf8e74de88
2bff2ade5b0042dadf7820c1d56be630b75f270f
describe
'6398836' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUA' 'sip-files00065.tif'
eeb58a3ce523b2438ecc80d4b2cfda44
24030ff1265b46ed2ce03d8ffe3489edb06c66d7
'2011-12-13T06:19:41-05:00'
describe
'4378' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUB' 'sip-files00065.txt'
6d6b66261eb5dfa622edcbc3fad4a9cc
883f72911b7f39200927e44a1f12355297bfe1f5
describe
'8465' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUC' 'sip-files00065thm.jpg'
da02852f1e5f728b7afe9d0bea34ddc9
0e24453cf027697c27538f8cf08b1bc5bffba4a7
describe
'776871' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUD' 'sip-files00066.jp2'
7ac7cb919e2a24c96da7f9fb5988b0b2
4b811a4b95b7420d304cb4a75557535dcf523532
describe
'142582' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUE' 'sip-files00066.jpg'
490fa1a638b2f86480d40b6d2793abe6
30f4277df5fcacaba786376832ad3942dc8c0046
describe
'102179' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUF' 'sip-files00066.pro'
a6be67c6b971162cb115cb905308166a
bb34b5aab5f812e0e85dc9079b44393cafcf10a7
describe
'37328' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUG' 'sip-files00066.QC.jpg'
07e514668a85abddc088d5a990b4593e
dfa417903a739707819ba6159f80c14d3e6091a6
'2011-12-13T06:20:18-05:00'
describe
'6229156' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUH' 'sip-files00066.tif'
68699ca91fc95b3ad64c5d027deae377
feb2dbcb9c62ac6520e3f7d50fdc265a0082709b
describe
'4355' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUI' 'sip-files00066.txt'
25aaf9be59fdc6c7e584aec95de56a82
e392cf36c76850928e43406e0eb6b8b917691f58
describe
'8526' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUJ' 'sip-files00066thm.jpg'
50cee6fa3ed900a26ac2edd1ecc04bef
e75b5ff052d55aed940829fd6aa134cc7c2e1081
describe
'798032' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUK' 'sip-files00067.jp2'
9025cfd8026222e3d8f5dcd6ddc7533d
e557f925baa6288624d7895d5d4114d3591bddfa
describe
'107010' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUL' 'sip-files00067.jpg'
6b6758301f1b9dcdf276e38ed4e5465c
4b607d92bded7dcb358d22e9bf0343975424636c
describe
'78078' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUM' 'sip-files00067.pro'
f797e3ed0cf54792e9383ac3e2923b6a
afb352a331cef20554faebf83c4bd073cd5e446f
'2011-12-13T06:21:33-05:00'
describe
'29355' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUN' 'sip-files00067.QC.jpg'
390bc0e91a5aa7acb3ea69991204f0ad
9b0ac5201c9a023507b73a7d7e562a3e265b4521
describe
'6397908' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUO' 'sip-files00067.tif'
eff57bd3fd75baa3510308b4476e2acf
3b942b1b994cbf3b0671c758a265f330153ba152
'2011-12-13T06:22:41-05:00'
describe
'3412' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUP' 'sip-files00067.txt'
09705e63f8d517003b5c1727a178f75e
78518ff3e9c4a125fdd89618cc9caf7a13729c16
'2011-12-13T06:18:45-05:00'
describe
'7287' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUQ' 'sip-files00067thm.jpg'
2fe6eb39fc10a70cbfbfd948ba05ca10
1373760b92b8a6ed5e26cb17f994ebf7ecd74bf4
describe
'797878' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUR' 'sip-files00070.jp2'
c21c8abaf0be8ca7962bd079e223e54d
c6ef8dac389f3ffac0840e29be540a3b6e90e4d5
'2011-12-13T06:20:30-05:00'
describe
'151895' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUS' 'sip-files00070.jpg'
bfac867b8d480a161336a68833f80b7f
13bfeb41a03b9742b29eaea4847b9fd897b07b25
describe
'29520' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUT' 'sip-files00070.pro'
71abad0cc20b6742cca6909446bcb135
20ee351a7913d38e4bd51ed1328ef6a0f788c9e3
describe
'35071' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUU' 'sip-files00070.QC.jpg'
0984151faebce01b10575faeeced3022
1b56b2401f9ad6a0b7f5fbbe99734df6ac03702e
describe
'6398352' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUV' 'sip-files00070.tif'
32c6c135d74c7d7d55d7e53a9870f465
7765820c42b899542bb77745f17766ea2ed58e6b
'2011-12-13T06:22:35-05:00'
describe
'1544' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUW' 'sip-files00070.txt'
5830588fd13f13689e112c9bef38e9e6
33209cae86cb3fa4f8c2606df0d8848f92a61515
describe
Invalid character
'8237' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUX' 'sip-files00070thm.jpg'
f8d9e2dc00d1cc941772584937b0ddd9
726d5410549c4932f005cf5ded152068ae9d8358
describe
'797941' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUY' 'sip-files00071.jp2'
b7af6453fe34a7bddc6bdcc386c547df
5fca96c437fd7cc181bd55a01ceb82416fcd0c84
describe
'147587' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMUZ' 'sip-files00071.jpg'
ae0496ca98caec29233da013f5869756
51711175a6c8d5f054f1f13087ae83eae944d401
describe
'71326' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVA' 'sip-files00071.pro'
eda7d8b2d144aca0961cfe2f2e67c9bb
d01584a0b95437247e6ae5d71ff44db6a1b0282d
describe
'37654' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVB' 'sip-files00071.QC.jpg'
210f3e25b82edee54fb5a7c15c730db8
bd4e2fde174c6252752628488420723b5e4c6ecb
describe
'6399108' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVC' 'sip-files00071.tif'
6ba3db64e8b037988da0dac4c0018ee5
a6906cba833498fb5f17e159d7732210c4104712
describe
'2983' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVD' 'sip-files00071.txt'
4e7bbe4431f7f9d4bdb62238ec764d69
2919d947199103da5a537835ebfac3328f71af38
'2011-12-13T06:19:48-05:00'
describe
'9156' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVE' 'sip-files00071thm.jpg'
ab5ad378d840a0f32408229dacf87692
a39cdbdca5bb974a573b988ce0a0d970bb95424a
describe
'797975' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVF' 'sip-files00072.jp2'
0f39d55d5906cadcf3f73ef12f87c5ad
0061b8212ff1bc299c85a48723c0ce1014ffa53b
describe
'155369' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVG' 'sip-files00072.jpg'
7ce91c63a34aa33a425f33ccbc2689de
2921f5720935a5c4731153a1c88b3ee34799c81d
describe
'34211' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVH' 'sip-files00072.pro'
b141c41f6e3ccf1f83bbe85eddf102e8
f28fdc9cc4288e5828352ad44b9ab2b87e253399
'2011-12-13T06:19:09-05:00'
describe
'36722' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVI' 'sip-files00072.QC.jpg'
6cd273df65d41a51c43e44f203b32b35
3612288368bac0926cae92eb02f17a536b40cebb
'2011-12-13T06:19:58-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVJ' 'sip-files00072.tif'
d689e7df97c866072b2f475bd33bd932
f625055d864ab5a3dc2db798b984dd7111a775fd
describe
'1420' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVK' 'sip-files00072.txt'
7ec3874e68d65d49898b807302f5b7cb
20e5f22b7d72db02bd28da6534521f643dc07de8
describe
'8522' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVL' 'sip-files00072thm.jpg'
958c7079c91333a744b1f13ba2aed854
e3fc0adc441b34498b7b0dd22389256bb4901397
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVM' 'sip-files00073.jp2'
9c8fe962322c3fa39882f093fab7684b
b5922188dd06d5813042dce230b183e58ce301c1
describe
'149180' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVN' 'sip-files00073.jpg'
4aeef4a6b3278f6504df3ae12ff282b3
a5843da95a40e1ae430da448616624de5871b063
describe
'104090' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVO' 'sip-files00073.pro'
ec3a23309267f0bcc2a9b35b9603549d
3d3fa32114fc05c7ea0559c36729247e45e2109a
describe
'38403' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVP' 'sip-files00073.QC.jpg'
88e24ace74f38c641310bdf0c2837147
7e3fa313b3aec8a838b37655d11c38322aba5250
describe
'6399024' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVQ' 'sip-files00073.tif'
dc4b6c5b35702cc5970964ff87144380
3f1ce0a04060b413158d59f1d82d02d8d6b8dd90
describe
'4295' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVR' 'sip-files00073.txt'
f899886e77f3b7665327aae9ba507229
932d64ebd7eef69d1990df1f9191928d0f1ee75b
describe
'8733' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVS' 'sip-files00073thm.jpg'
67c09fc9c71b3e1bc5b59a34fd550021
b59cb80e0c0908338db94bea9d086bfc91b8f8a0
describe
'797728' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVT' 'sip-files00074.jp2'
c23aad7572f7a3a82e4d9f54fb4b2593
75bffb42655d5cc29fd30fcfe526640732835799
describe
'119790' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVU' 'sip-files00074.jpg'
dd9ff7769f4083a34b730e476bcd8d77
13d370f04b82db81b79d4c5e2f61a73014d52a24
describe
'3705' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVV' 'sip-files00074.pro'
93dacabb289b5e76295e416572fda378
344c90d0fce4d5904d3a133742c54fe998a2daac
describe
'26897' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVW' 'sip-files00074.QC.jpg'
82332afe0b4dcc68ebfb5968d3573bbe
2555c8745fb29591afa0c34ebaeed3034b62756c
'2011-12-13T06:18:58-05:00'
describe
'6396432' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVX' 'sip-files00074.tif'
4a734fa6a8987c33b055cee645e59b6d
5e11bef518bad007bfe4562c220e7cf7c76643bf
describe
'198' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVY' 'sip-files00074.txt'
0af8109c27d958c9f48c8617bc1e7134
c81c1c8e40dc5b886d1b85cf0fbe45b857481206
describe
Invalid character
'5902' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMVZ' 'sip-files00074thm.jpg'
05c8f5834de6950fe53fe022092a7118
45cac69b2e457c4ce8a45be3dfb0e9f17c305652
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWA' 'sip-files00075.jp2'
7aee49354561e52fe62da02bc0b08cb8
b187839e70b69d0e894c715c1606d2c7997d8b39
'2011-12-13T06:20:03-05:00'
describe
'138088' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWB' 'sip-files00075.jpg'
0ab3fb7df1b8f676a699ba67723d8116
32d176da9d1fda89c9c0352a4378535a2b10e144
describe
'101036' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWC' 'sip-files00075.pro'
3d93c8c536b05862f72ec2a5a7a55e6d
3d24e007acdd996f2d35fefb09e802f90b3a586d
describe
'35295' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWD' 'sip-files00075.QC.jpg'
42af0e397005c15f66033cd059f76b7e
12e3135bab71905e209a73041b6837e2348f95bf
describe
'6398796' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWE' 'sip-files00075.tif'
9907d9a030a72bfe0bcfdb8f3e90c096
50db22920ff2657c4a7599d8e7eddd08d99ca6d4
describe
'4154' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWF' 'sip-files00075.txt'
6ff3dadc2979ea87b0a8f4da0f030cf4
4afb4898bae6bb1ffb7d474bf43aee4041421372
describe
Invalid character
'8449' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWG' 'sip-files00075thm.jpg'
c9f6f0f1f481ec76c259c8240572eaab
3f4b0d77d85d4e52d322d01b41469b9d753e4fa8
describe
'789631' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWH' 'sip-files00076.jp2'
ae86f78cb6cb20c174055314ee3ff1c9
ea9eb4d71ae13d024a21c9584dfd1d0e961b6202
describe
'141604' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWI' 'sip-files00076.jpg'
d08f01e56a6ff4755f53783cc39aa0e0
bad6d98d2d1302e8c993c895fdd4e2527fa71ef4
describe
'104455' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWJ' 'sip-files00076.pro'
ef116c48e5f90dc8f2179c38673d28d2
e26752d9ce550d0bfe45b1bc1579a3af0557b11b
'2011-12-13T06:19:20-05:00'
describe
'36930' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWK' 'sip-files00076.QC.jpg'
b46afc280c8c62e12ab62bba26f87275
e5fafd5a53b200bdea96bd6859ee9098f999eca9
'2011-12-13T06:20:02-05:00'
describe
'6331080' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWL' 'sip-files00076.tif'
6ebcb3f275f55a864f30663bd268772f
373767be74ee80d256646a415d7879937e1adbfd
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWM' 'sip-files00076.txt'
fb45515cd8a25509991dc7f14e39c0f9
07fe03bbf8a5dc19a1a7f82d5be7ba24d49a5d6b
describe
'8341' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWN' 'sip-files00076thm.jpg'
1958d6f7ebdd6f21c67ede22897c0478
7eb7c19820a786f01932cf0955839d953caeb305
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWO' 'sip-files00077.jp2'
1bd389e5bbd5745635cdb0d3886bf817
59d1b3f4e399ccb7c654d9091fbb4610f803c54d
describe
'157198' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWP' 'sip-files00077.jpg'
4d44cbd8ccece03a2495be7f7dec2832
25b93cf576c8cd60eadf1b87bad522a737209bf5
describe
'76743' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWQ' 'sip-files00077.pro'
d7abf222fc37c007bdffcf7bead3d5f4
553efeaa459e2f77878f1f4451f5d8ea12a2d469
describe
'37865' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWR' 'sip-files00077.QC.jpg'
3196357e407db3af6896a9824cfe93a9
99d56fc2136277ec35168a4f70e638c2ffcd3a8f
'2011-12-13T06:20:44-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWS' 'sip-files00077.tif'
1aea053d4f29ab343edd5226426af6d8
221ea1444b6d6eb9e959ef1a8aa8e20924eccb9b
describe
'3481' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWT' 'sip-files00077.txt'
331208f842644b2ceda3f3ff5282f3f3
1aa80094361316dfba267ee8aeb5b47a28288dcf
describe
Invalid character
'8389' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWU' 'sip-files00077thm.jpg'
9e20cea787eaec49515a97547de828c6
e0b9e764f04a2dd318d7eee084c4ee1a043f5d90
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWV' 'sip-files00078.jp2'
71e649518a9d81091a062ed1dac78968
bf956fb0f0493353a97ca1b8157528e20dfae3f4
describe
'129188' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWW' 'sip-files00078.jpg'
950e0b069b304aed508de5fca2a75060
4e7fcef801208fac840f386a5f9466c1feaecddd
'2011-12-13T06:19:10-05:00'
describe
'11698' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWX' 'sip-files00078.pro'
2309823fad5652a15039897467bd293f
08dad4e5dd8beb284c290f12c79897bd8520c456
describe
'29248' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWY' 'sip-files00078.QC.jpg'
a2384a75497a0c4ba356bb3a7fdf2335
2769eabaf32e8bc105ee15b8a0894bc3a6500b0d
describe
'6397732' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMWZ' 'sip-files00078.tif'
11f8f4c50c20d61860ee7cb66413271e
f3b06a934930182e935291022580e8b2e7ae8431
describe
'1270' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXA' 'sip-files00078.txt'
77c41e601d2aca8f418cc90c0a9a60e0
f3748d22d65dd6d4153eb7d47cf5e6a7d8944588
describe
Invalid character
'7058' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXB' 'sip-files00078thm.jpg'
9027aa0ccf6b872084eb6b586375e306
3214cba80b9dc8e8eb9351c56fdd6e750e78f62a
describe
'797989' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXC' 'sip-files00079.jp2'
2beceaeb08678085f2add07bf475e13c
00debd721ba96569378fa9b5c644b9dc4f46e1f6
describe
'154908' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXD' 'sip-files00079.jpg'
168a711acbc6b780430e756875b26987
05f8eaa85b497caaa4d61cdf356961f20c698555
describe
'45671' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXE' 'sip-files00079.pro'
4482521381e3b7dde9fe96fdc5c69d5e
c900e80f7a10cfb9d52ead0b9a54119fdfdfe377
describe
'37219' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXF' 'sip-files00079.QC.jpg'
cb0908979216d2dbf5bf96941d8cc123
fac28db7a9a6820ee8b543b6782fb6d03b9f2fa3
describe
'6398640' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXG' 'sip-files00079.tif'
8dedbb8f07636f10716fbe92786558ff
f9149ef11074d426f98111e19fa678d523e3dc20
describe
'1934' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXH' 'sip-files00079.txt'
12b42992c42ec81601b31e0bfadb7f84
eeeb0c718df6a22cc58aadae32ebea80bf4e5be0
describe
'8746' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXI' 'sip-files00079thm.jpg'
0bf5d3428c6bcf29e0bf206df4be34c3
8839914f9c5945b2411006a6b515c4aae3240f5b
'2011-12-13T06:20:37-05:00'
describe
'798094' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXJ' 'sip-files00080.jp2'
dddc29ed35ed0f352c0687f593ec3e52
2e4ce486ddf73a0e42a2c38bf17ec28ce1b4e933
describe
'161614' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXK' 'sip-files00080.jpg'
12e3b2448c787c80b7ea7dd9254ba5e5
4094ffdeed1b231f6e5e2ca3b2728d4c86442bef
describe
'55335' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXL' 'sip-files00080.pro'
96776ee84db191fa871a317ebc066627
c5f6f8fdee983efb7c8dcece67801614cdb11cd0
describe
'38881' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXM' 'sip-files00080.QC.jpg'
c73539d7e2921044c02addb62b848fbe
d1a441ce3e1dfa4057d7115eb11ca19691c360c5
describe
'6398908' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXN' 'sip-files00080.tif'
0ceae15ad227abe22fc9b3624b6bea83
6824335a1c85009dc988d5e236953d2be49019c4
describe
'2224' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXO' 'sip-files00080.txt'
5dd86a298910bdfeb5af75083dae2e55
b933b101881b6e6b1fa078002fe38beed9af85af
describe
'8943' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXP' 'sip-files00080thm.jpg'
2cb090f6dba3af4aad09c6c9a9f82c09
de76aaf7d1d200ca83989c8f7f3d84b468de52b1
describe
'798045' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXQ' 'sip-files00081.jp2'
8560d3dedfbfdffd1ff06d971b736a05
5683e53e7eaf32a0c549911c0995ccf1560e232a
describe
'143675' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXR' 'sip-files00081.jpg'
798b9a0bd81fa37cb03526c11b6b6f94
fbaecb1cd0c3b9a3ecc4bd9aa61b6a00313d4867
describe
'113838' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXS' 'sip-files00081.pro'
2d8fb71003b7b499f1503701cc2a46aa
8a2b657368b36f76b8746addb02d36471fd0bf8b
describe
'35760' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXT' 'sip-files00081.QC.jpg'
5ec23ccffb8cec2a093a9a76d4ca8e7b
184bae0c9cad566ffab6cad0a1b2bdf845188b6f
describe
'6398188' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXU' 'sip-files00081.tif'
292e3b19580db980eb3219de8361b8c0
180aa8a1419d2a753b539ea753de369b4f16db12
describe
'4685' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXV' 'sip-files00081.txt'
dcf340fdc9502dd3aae78c867163f50c
6be94e07bb053d55d694ee16293b63a4d4ca2ba3
'2011-12-13T06:21:05-05:00'
describe
'8046' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXW' 'sip-files00081thm.jpg'
814fbdf611a27bd0d0632cb84797af66
1e65cbf3e4f94b2247159845893d9428d08e8de4
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXX' 'sip-files00082.jp2'
d70b270a8d597a2f516ff50e77c0ed3a
cf8df72b596f555cc3fddacd7d58f48c650e5386
'2011-12-13T06:19:44-05:00'
describe
'130034' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXY' 'sip-files00082.jpg'
63feead92601c9ed60b2127efd3f6b07
e60460afc3c1647bf9d7f2939a69139d2548e9d6
describe
'2188' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMXZ' 'sip-files00082.pro'
b1e27b6994da1231b452bda9ae15eb77
bec64084228347273025cd024e3ac94b235b9725
describe
'30103' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYA' 'sip-files00082.QC.jpg'
84460f3ce074e28532dbec6d29fbbad9
6ab277dacc531dac8e4e3a7e809f59c9e61766b0
describe
'6397648' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYB' 'sip-files00082.tif'
7a64aa57ae8fd8acca62bf65c501540b
4076288aec56a459a30c9bca4b04a835ebd1814c
describe
'93' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYC' 'sip-files00082.txt'
fb50333f07a357d9bee8c9a14a2e1660
6b43231a99f0ced94b4e97cf887664703a051d5c
describe
'7438' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYD' 'sip-files00082thm.jpg'
295da1afae463ef54876ec240fd0a3fb
ef6f4e19832b9f5459fa6656ef50bb0851bce305
'2011-12-13T06:19:40-05:00'
describe
'776844' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYE' 'sip-files00083.jp2'
9cb3497c258da2ac707e3c8f76c08765
a66cdb0e37a39673aa7baef24faace646bd9d268
describe
'159706' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYF' 'sip-files00083.jpg'
a915f78edb771652c3cd350c2c989ce5
5d8504c945803470cb4f7842ff38fc321fd99930
describe
'74615' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYG' 'sip-files00083.pro'
dc994af9d16705691f03998aa422100d
3529fbd9b06888ee70b88699692d17d6572ac954
describe
'39823' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYH' 'sip-files00083.QC.jpg'
bacf5f8d8a2f149775e85712b714be68
90b5c0f4ac36aed2fc5c7afc0023345d3b09696e
describe
'6229292' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYI' 'sip-files00083.tif'
9e49c59e99f8b360b48a04794a9f42f5
8fa307d8e42d4975fcabb8de43e3e3e2c667af23
describe
'3480' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYJ' 'sip-files00083.txt'
522b03608aa71469df00f233725d2311
0ccfc49c58d65630e766ccc03f9f681fe2a14d60
describe
Invalid character
'9085' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYK' 'sip-files00083thm.jpg'
e5191c375de59b30fb4d6599bdc89b22
3f18fcb63f79238dfe34ff9bc7a99ccb14aee466
describe
'775141' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYL' 'sip-files00084.jp2'
a59dbc60ed2dce7b63775dfb996af2d8
d63ecaadcf308653f63e1691d894859326994fd1
describe
'158491' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYM' 'sip-files00084.jpg'
27d57c78d346963bb7e07a064a0d4bf4
3d7879ac029294e1585f39cf377e7556e5d74df5
describe
'107307' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYN' 'sip-files00084.pro'
0c886beaa58a6f894b345915e02cdd2f
ff9048795fb40001d26dab7849dc88e408da91d7
describe
'40596' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYO' 'sip-files00084.QC.jpg'
b09280e6e7b54b653bef5358724cd27e
28b573e9b2f7f455d8b6c2b91575a6bc8e5eb328
describe
'6224816' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYP' 'sip-files00084.tif'
c2d42c1ead81eb9a1d81fad7beede89b
fcac5594b962a48a9147d43720e7109e197ac220
'2011-12-13T06:20:45-05:00'
describe
'4473' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYQ' 'sip-files00084.txt'
3655a69ab8a09f629ad1a53141c20b9d
bda0e1f504d1d83ec1850f1009a416efe871040c
describe
'9143' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYR' 'sip-files00084thm.jpg'
f558a5f1172b5e7cc6c4746a712b9b50
7c55185d91536dde4b9f65d56f7a5c4032e29e79
describe
'798102' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYS' 'sip-files00085.jp2'
3419c51ea667266d20c7c838bf3f1747
df6e31e8e3b482bc7489ec311bf02df23691250e
describe
'141724' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYT' 'sip-files00085.jpg'
23107f54b861e65245c70942bf416578
fd11c58b8eb3aa62c57abe2ca9db730921372d5a
describe
'103624' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYU' 'sip-files00085.pro'
7065603d84f3fa43979516361e36da15
b1426eece261f1768eb31da07b65415a2a0de542
describe
'35439' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYV' 'sip-files00085.QC.jpg'
7687e6857c5dfce848043f831285d11a
e2254aa2a388560c7c73d0f2900353812af88880
describe
'6398524' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYW' 'sip-files00085.tif'
09df41ca2476dafc4635134fdd8a3742
2bc5df1ea0267f2dc5fd11e170982618b0cce2b2
describe
'4255' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYX' 'sip-files00085.txt'
d41a2ed0c3d6fdc1ef34c824ab5146c2
d752748968ce00d3434b8bbb928ab57ef80d068e
describe
'7897' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYY' 'sip-files00085thm.jpg'
0e60c5d40a3a92cbd7cac608fef30e3d
47eefead9c060f187e2f5999629b6fe3fc2fcf1f
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMYZ' 'sip-files00086.jp2'
a130b729be11e2fffb2d75ed4105b506
cffad009020116304cb7d3fd2857ce8f0faa7b28
describe
'140052' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZA' 'sip-files00086.jpg'
9d8184c4f12c7948958db42c30babdd9
989627015c311f21b1ccdbb7cdbbe5786200a330
describe
'106704' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZB' 'sip-files00086.pro'
022bb2a169915cdcfc9549908ba68010
4b4c54a70fa911b14f091fad6b1b66d376ee2112
describe
'35332' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZC' 'sip-files00086.QC.jpg'
0b5e31e852933e4f82bbbd96c5aaf2b5
01d2e94cb7a71cda8d001c5d2567b5e8b0ab5edf
describe
'6398264' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZD' 'sip-files00086.tif'
ef7e090424a64d498f27885085ced9e2
7f9e50d8daaea39b0f6957899d7d79cb1eb79a43
describe
'4363' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZE' 'sip-files00086.txt'
798869a094bd7a09804b475a8c726b02
3933f40ac29458aedd39f701af845e2a41ebc47f
describe
'7760' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZF' 'sip-files00086thm.jpg'
41a4a4c8403fa84e161b95cf9e2d3220
e358cfe8db7e5a97c16659b133377946a0f1c20f
describe
'798074' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZG' 'sip-files00087.jp2'
007e9f5fdad9d6d64ea87655082cf1a0
68b70c271e2222b2509d54d108a584ddfa3631fb
describe
'145265' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZH' 'sip-files00087.jpg'
f93c76447be33626093845cef034ad6f
464c84837bd843a53d71d82578d721477a96b602
describe
'106327' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZI' 'sip-files00087.pro'
97ab2ca3e739d3499e8ac3a352b5f2db
5cb0d084d08f1696b311d0a49d246da9c6fc30d9
describe
'37053' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZJ' 'sip-files00087.QC.jpg'
c3522880f8359093527bd60df506f79e
fc05c66238e4af69be956806583beda48f636f4c
describe
'6398568' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZK' 'sip-files00087.tif'
f1afebb9dab06914898ba6e8b04764bf
3cf160a12d92c2d2fc68c42f4c19f9c3116b314a
describe
'4420' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZL' 'sip-files00087.txt'
b8ebd2be8842f5f3da907204422e5a44
03b2fc1b1fa7886c5e4f95c47746b5a664449a44
describe
'8286' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZM' 'sip-files00087thm.jpg'
74652719d0321a257b864e6f786a066d
9a44198a4e40515b9583a0d62b9828c1acf8eec8
describe
'798093' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZN' 'sip-files00088.jp2'
9339d3556e45602fa8226ed605327eb2
bc454b68f25c817f4fc5c642413d5eb5fc5f7239
describe
'134429' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZO' 'sip-files00088.jpg'
4b1518bc35d65974380a55373f0c02de
6a2f47c994e61e4934015b9dd59236312247b777
describe
'1917' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZP' 'sip-files00088.pro'
c24cac72f425d246953a542447f9eb9d
9da98a48af02f4f38f0d53aa715551d20f2a5a4a
describe
'32242' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZQ' 'sip-files00088.QC.jpg'
fe49fb4f495e7b117d40ea8d187a9c0e
ed0288b1dfdc23daaf74e2179f6e1427d82f6e5d
describe
'6397992' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZR' 'sip-files00088.tif'
e9ba465dd9c879576b0b7ac0801888c1
3cae2acbe0bc670b38066f91dacb10640227d00a
describe
'81' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZS' 'sip-files00088.txt'
6b1350d409732cb554e7cae5d93a6bab
31a7d465a56ed50af365bc600f4fe3d2c6eaf0d7
describe
'8087' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZT' 'sip-files00088thm.jpg'
bdd973124ccc555e946e904f62e80a10
0f6354b797c2e52598149a8e146305bb3beb36ba
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZU' 'sip-files00089.jp2'
b34018080b791a213307bf30c074e23e
3192a37b0d3543d3b39a3eaef925abfbfa5116d6
describe
'144983' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZV' 'sip-files00089.jpg'
4fb99d2743a5d0ff8b230f45e234ce87
f900b54716101e4d7fdd4ceb1744721e83e1ad6c
describe
'88815' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZW' 'sip-files00089.pro'
e22db90062bd92ba6bf9a2e873d07979
f558b607ffdf6744a54f4f745cb2337ad48f415b
describe
'35604' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZX' 'sip-files00089.QC.jpg'
909296c9f0d7372ee671b6cf76fd1bda
73fe1f51d2b08ad5a569f8d4928bef1639112508
describe
'6398124' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZY' 'sip-files00089.tif'
4b701aff7da6082cb2aae9e743522921
69a5e9111b8d989a113fa0da7a4943efd0ec0a5a
describe
'3765' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABMZZ' 'sip-files00089.txt'
215f5cac93105c6eea9a86bc0c346bbc
e2d402d4666c30ee31f60cc3082e73dff6859367
describe
Invalid character
'8061' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAA' 'sip-files00089thm.jpg'
4463066f0e2d941e29579f196fdfa787
1b600f9196b476676896c928d5516b01b3e3cba1
describe
'798030' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAB' 'sip-files00090.jp2'
db97337ea8e719f5b58af9eeb82a1d32
db8bf68486b00004d7122b619961d34ed559180c
describe
'135423' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAC' 'sip-files00090.jpg'
7e4d12393f7557fec494f36252e86d6c
cdf6c860f8c2cd537f552be68b40bc10ccba199e
describe
'98081' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAD' 'sip-files00090.pro'
930715098229265bdf1e7d73e2541e09
4ff3f7cbe1f49ddef87d277e6c05e989081de848
describe
'35049' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAE' 'sip-files00090.QC.jpg'
6ae47168ee6dd39d5e0a74d4fbc8a1ca
3a7415dd53296f7118dd27d1ae819ac9a5f90fa1
describe
'6398384' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAF' 'sip-files00090.tif'
0df63103055185899e5192cecda8f83f
1afbcd5d140bccd38aa0150c1b7bc947c99a0da3
describe
'4112' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAG' 'sip-files00090.txt'
9f6f760c620840f4ca94e075a92bc5a2
64f9198f45424c2391ab90bf24853c99b2496246
describe
Invalid character
'8285' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAH' 'sip-files00090thm.jpg'
47fd912e32bbcbfeab4ffa94965ca509
25e9cd4527b2a02427ea8a70973daeb73b143c48
describe
'798097' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAI' 'sip-files00091.jp2'
67b7bbe18c16c9b58733666c17724ab0
fc79580178fcd87d1d6b9784c68b8d53b3b00b0b
describe
'142780' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAJ' 'sip-files00091.jpg'
1e142e5f8f93f9f55d04cb9805047caa
6edd91814bc6f4d2efe06fb8f9c2236202d606cc
'2011-12-13T06:21:46-05:00'
describe
'105890' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAK' 'sip-files00091.pro'
82009d3f445a7c7ede6e2b9e5ca2604c
33442632b56dfca6fe0e2974761f1292a4b7fc47
describe
'36968' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAL' 'sip-files00091.QC.jpg'
e7654b94c7e37a862b27d04867927ca7
4a6d705508ef37122ebde4ffcbd0abcc5765e9e9
describe
'6398804' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAM' 'sip-files00091.tif'
d9fea434f4fc5b324c99676b06b3cd80
3bebc7bbdd9bc9fd85bc57867b287c9df370c99a
'2011-12-13T06:19:27-05:00'
describe
'4311' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAN' 'sip-files00091.txt'
a1c6a27e925f64d0de8ee2cf85c3f31f
7691ebb62b09a958b6ac6136f70fa4b5d7557746
describe
'8324' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAO' 'sip-files00091thm.jpg'
b20fc1b2f9e091a5ea623ffb69a4f78e
79a00b045bcc650df66a04f172a9edd690bdb594
describe
'772583' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAP' 'sip-files00092.jp2'
626552c57a44361baaa706db802c95f6
866d474537e07d7be9b5eada9a5dcc9890b4d5dc
describe
'131614' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAQ' 'sip-files00092.jpg'
1e3fb2e8b6fbedc03f353583b7018102
e9262172a8b80a70d2502ef77d55a19f230e3abe
describe
'92654' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAR' 'sip-files00092.pro'
6e55e2ac9786328ec12387574774963a
c098432e1b5f2043487d914438b16cbd4294ff87
describe
'34186' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAS' 'sip-files00092.QC.jpg'
93f2623ac2851492912047c0d326e8d2
a68e919ad0000320d6d1ad4134fe2faff919ed31
describe
'6194792' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAT' 'sip-files00092.tif'
821625612ba60ec33c83e9de486d1717
0ab35691d9aa4b09d03c23dba0615a217274c36b
describe
'3981' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAU' 'sip-files00092.txt'
59166fabb4553d97b8085784d2f008a1
f286f1c7af5aeeabddf06a06da2408254dfd5723
describe
'8312' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAV' 'sip-files00092thm.jpg'
33397e742247294c576d3eb25b47ddf0
a0055ecfdd92fc32676618381f13c9a1c5dc41a1
describe
'798096' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAW' 'sip-files00093.jp2'
13162cdd2ffe1a9d41a39cb572defc95
23d31831685a5730c98a6161bcb38fb589fee9d8
describe
'121403' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAX' 'sip-files00093.jpg'
3a1b34fb3b4792e719c22849f42de7c5
f04bf23886fd2d2f147670f694214c02285798ee
describe
'93954' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAY' 'sip-files00093.pro'
643db344f4880ed1fab5475f925e3f85
1db8373783b71e3000eee754b0fbf1fbe046690b
describe
'31524' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNAZ' 'sip-files00093.QC.jpg'
8d36e0c41984e329f471978eacfbd066
5d9cb211ced80b24fce80aa4f724d6e6b590f0db
describe
'6397740' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBA' 'sip-files00093.tif'
a983b7bdd3c6dfaf4abd299425bd7f80
75bce07180ec015b9f971a991558db7eaad2e7bc
describe
'3958' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBB' 'sip-files00093.txt'
d63076d63d1b8443a0d2d5505f77c1c9
3b8f77030ecf64942a1e0e480d7632d2919afca5
describe
'7371' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBC' 'sip-files00093thm.jpg'
0a5bc1c867469143549e14896785cce6
863d368254dd24fe4ae32ee0e02b1fe450d83cac
describe
'763078' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBD' 'sip-files00094.jp2'
eaf70175ba434fe0ea3efdfdf2772f20
67bde67d5cd04d76312877c77e43441bd7c47527
describe
'132517' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBE' 'sip-files00094.jpg'
700c700fbc5718fc7f048cfbc357d769
139c1234b2aa0b5ba84a078ad303b674bd7a251f
describe
'13447' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBF' 'sip-files00094.pro'
e908121c8600bacd8e864281a9ea0b84
67cc0110d0bb7afacc0b6586cd7a5f2ff2641ec6
describe
'30351' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBG' 'sip-files00094.QC.jpg'
6c9d981aad76466bafe1908638d91682
f4f9eea3053565efaf354bc1cfa855a913eaa7ba
describe
'6118592' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBH' 'sip-files00094.tif'
1a090ba4f7d42cf43bbdcf566eb71e5e
e6b86e08935deb97b60303dfac709d2eb05c607a
'2011-12-13T06:19:23-05:00'
describe
'885' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBI' 'sip-files00094.txt'
ed52357ab2071d41b18021b32568adff
7918e973957b923e36886c7ab44061aeee959037
'2011-12-13T06:18:47-05:00'
describe
Invalid character
'7465' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBJ' 'sip-files00094thm.jpg'
ffadd596d001960c4aff158256bcef06
37565bc82d102bfb363b7a9ae19d9a4014abb73d
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBK' 'sip-files00095.jp2'
7ec5a0c79bd088bd2a4361fc60e7d440
4a9b086ae9b28173416290d5647e15239aa6b810
describe
'137050' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBL' 'sip-files00095.jpg'
4ea85c7b6cbbc0ac58519bbd313b94c5
f6faf65b72f92897cb2967bc7c6ffab80e772aeb
describe
'104717' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBM' 'sip-files00095.pro'
88d38af4efa551fdaf198d68218d7045
22bdfa0f3dab087401a0249a8194341bfc8e19e4
describe
'35729' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBN' 'sip-files00095.QC.jpg'
d99ebeb4d96ee8d0a9bfcb9e553604d2
a040fa9f819a6af60e4b9328841333b8eafb7b33
describe
'6398412' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBO' 'sip-files00095.tif'
83228c5f8142de766ba8b8c6bd994abc
59e8eb1db1f89483132f2263cbe4ec577f2ad94e
describe
'4292' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBP' 'sip-files00095.txt'
a8d86ff61a30a76593e89ca6972329ea
bb3fa7f5ad9555b4c49dd065a6d13cc6132c9b81
describe
'8058' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBQ' 'sip-files00095thm.jpg'
b7879fc8398bbfc91aa8237b92fc9dcc
926bf957606d304122edc1c2824a597d3d1f6f68
describe
'728102' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBR' 'sip-files00096.jp2'
ec2bee78b15c2d63372971091a0efe9e
65cfbb8ba54b09c34becf2f8c5c00768ee186901
describe
'160447' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBS' 'sip-files00096.jpg'
ac542fa6d163196419d2e07fbc5f63d0
844cabcf5145d20745842615e4b089f470a5d7cd
describe
'101439' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBT' 'sip-files00096.pro'
0db88f50723dd4add46d391e9804ebca
5ec8e773d05baba5729eb8e0d4d3bfe7a1617c34
describe
'41697' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBU' 'sip-files00096.QC.jpg'
8893cb6dcfdf3790b3dcdaa2693ff238
49c4c12d4ba90a5997ecf606958b0292f9cbba08
describe
'5838892' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBV' 'sip-files00096.tif'
f23e2f682087ffa9550b1414c28e4774
62b608e5fbbfaefd6c629e931c5edc876fd1a866
describe
'4135' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBW' 'sip-files00096.txt'
a2d7bcb1e1aa1d38d4630b597f01e2d2
28be2b8ef4c9716c110243c283d76f67aa7f73df
describe
'9664' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBX' 'sip-files00096thm.jpg'
e66c4db08cde70b6f5445dc2215a555e
dd1f7ee3d98df09ee4f0728d8243fc767519f1b6
describe
'798011' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBY' 'sip-files00097.jp2'
e8abfc8da4ebecd08c16c8d9429cf715
d4e15275eb2eab80ccc4b3612d2daf10cbb862f5
describe
'156916' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNBZ' 'sip-files00097.jpg'
515a242f3e2d7494a92bdc63931d6f33
02f8ecb5da51f89f012c9f2ce6440187797d563f
describe
'49679' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCA' 'sip-files00097.pro'
291edc47afc522cb64084cea9b4f9fa6
ad63476170169a7a072fe452890d5c47289a94e0
describe
'37746' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCB' 'sip-files00097.QC.jpg'
5dfc5cf8958e203da098940cf0501b19
6be8dab4c6a59db43297c49ae6283a1c4cded93e
describe
'6398136' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCC' 'sip-files00097.tif'
c395cd82d8b8110921a8ec0230b05cd6
bd9e764851545c8578a605fcde0c6c1eb38c7d84
describe
'2092' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCD' 'sip-files00097.txt'
39993485bccfc26d9f57cf930ce7268c
4cbed129bfb54708586a6b0c48c6b037e7489212
describe
'8720' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCE' 'sip-files00097thm.jpg'
92851467c8596bbb238147d6d8fffbd8
ce39399580982cd1efcb422ebc9f31ee81cde1e9
describe
'770521' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCF' 'sip-files00098.jp2'
97851fdcde55afcb4eabed152e189a96
0211711a110720595c0a28b1446a35416c1af3df
describe
'146831' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCG' 'sip-files00098.jpg'
12ed0d985b28f8f52270e6e04fd6de06
4d4671e863eb4b8e46689a69f40518a7f6e16f9d
describe
'82055' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCH' 'sip-files00098.pro'
cbb0ac49f5e2a2644f06a7215e4202ca
fb12c9da0b37bfca70e66584bcef8eed0a613574
describe
'36556' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCI' 'sip-files00098.QC.jpg'
5c82454f8b6d47911964eb0034c556b1
4dc1f8d08bb9802693cda61b5b94372bce776bec
describe
'6177552' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCJ' 'sip-files00098.tif'
64e8a840a824a7792c2ecdc6fa26a89d
e25cf3df2efc49f8418e2ef01b552ba6caf2a5b4
'2011-12-13T06:21:50-05:00'
describe
'3883' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCK' 'sip-files00098.txt'
1e607bfc39306b2535ae8efbbaf07463
b22bfa27575930beebe87dd16b4ab839f8f16513
describe
'8131' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCL' 'sip-files00098thm.jpg'
aad942958ecef9d6f84850587cdcd2ae
ca2200ed54f98c642774ce4c04fa34b49bf66543
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCM' 'sip-files00099.jp2'
b68f42e22a1ac06071461781eb80bc2b
5c487e6def829a94483f0908430ba670ddee5538
describe
'144485' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCN' 'sip-files00099.jpg'
8f1d72bdc87d2b66a13c6cc36dfc1aac
1edae28bfe49891eb1b1eb0765478ba45a739bea
describe
'111983' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCO' 'sip-files00099.pro'
35929b409a0a0a282bf18128b7553d6c
acb0678e72fde77a9f96ea147947a0ef00cf2199
describe
'35263' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCP' 'sip-files00099.QC.jpg'
591fd23d4522d7f3a14ebefa19e408ee
8beba40e84053e129c426f2e5d53a9dd3e0eb284
'2011-12-13T06:21:53-05:00'
describe
'6398168' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCQ' 'sip-files00099.tif'
4207c4d28ccae086ca028e71c2937841
cf9d9b31ec1f117a8157591c06baf7509e3295ea
describe
'4625' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCR' 'sip-files00099.txt'
e827d3f1bd6b3683ce2d98290a599c67
8e5672764d8bded132ee9f4d1ed5b1114234947a
describe
'7764' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCS' 'sip-files00099thm.jpg'
83e633c80dc1e5e3d5b54cc157400b80
74405c1ca196ec75b67b6f7242e56cfbfa2b0c46
describe
'778957' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCT' 'sip-files00100.jp2'
e67320a0eeff3cae54473bc50fd13e4c
97342b962d62e0d37ed1fde206931db7c02a600a
describe
'113136' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCU' 'sip-files00100.jpg'
d416b7c7efab541e6b2842262328105b
1f82569942ef5ac68ad4fc3712933fd2eaafbd3a
describe
'56925' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCV' 'sip-files00100.pro'
0fbf213368833ce9061d6ff8ec6ffec8
2de67f29453bdfb5d8a01156118d0b4515698659
describe
'30644' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCW' 'sip-files00100.QC.jpg'
a7598a26aa8248ecc112b269ee9359ae
9dcd26993b7efac60fdeb6266b4cc77e1625d3c1
describe
'6244940' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCX' 'sip-files00100.tif'
b5827d400e76576b7035c8160912b967
4549c377f05af5a350cf924d64792e84e8ec507f
describe
'2427' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCY' 'sip-files00100.txt'
49bdedae46f4f14a040978cf99980455
369fed2fdb5f2f66eca99d7059b83eab68b96def
describe
Invalid character
'7460' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNCZ' 'sip-files00100thm.jpg'
16917862112d368fdd54b28cc528afab
0f32f7505e7015bc5b4622d25d00fdd34ec6e5d7
describe
'779974' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDA' 'sip-files00101.jp2'
af5fa23b78b7c191c98a9e877c575db3
30d01b0991aa3befce865e8f7f9cca530669937a
describe
'94091' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDB' 'sip-files00101.jpg'
d698627eb915d2abe0709655a5285483
335ca4fcf445eb33a6d2d52ade72a5b1ca45c875
describe
'69451' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDC' 'sip-files00101.pro'
27d6d4907fa1eb54463cdaf7b1b2f4fd
aa3504fd7d9068aec324dbafead4b5e5de606eb2
describe
'25026' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDD' 'sip-files00101.QC.jpg'
30a6fff793a8022d0ba0b00fa87421db
825f83fc208e81b6d84bea9f144d4742a6cff869
describe
'6251968' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDE' 'sip-files00101.tif'
f8197aeb4406211d58694e7931606fb8
c70d07522ef10851abe6100b44edae9f7aab926a
describe
'3058' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDF' 'sip-files00101.txt'
98ee0cb8978885886a74f04b10c3b8bd
c6134a0e2f61f1b2a36ed1df541fcd51f394f5da
describe
'6372' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDG' 'sip-files00101thm.jpg'
520620178a367d66cb33a38203d7cab3
ff81696d3f22a222e5f558abc89c23d316a2caba
describe
'798091' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDH' 'sip-files00102.jp2'
302cde00c0800ebaf60627008d13c38a
6d195b47fa2bca65f9ac44c830385b36258b46cd
describe
'160137' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDI' 'sip-files00102.jpg'
28279f6db4b42611115ac1a8b5c77148
83cc2fa3a1153c351d7baece4b154c37db1dbd59
describe
'2094' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDJ' 'sip-files00102.pro'
98d786ab7caf4ab55f507436a944da90
9404f462fad239a4b282bd203b0d0ee83d27bbd5
describe
'36920' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDK' 'sip-files00102.QC.jpg'
328a865db02aacd064c67d3ae925dd72
efe45a44e9a7a86eb05acfca5fe4ae1fa5be0166
describe
'6398440' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDL' 'sip-files00102.tif'
4d97806a5acff2cc902e5822d869f22a
b8ca142b88853d617a86288f9cc64027ffbc7b6a
describe
'168' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDM' 'sip-files00102.txt'
8d92b81846540a0aabd87d1f4d578792
0025790a9053c9ca65189a7f250dd3e0b84ddc46
describe
Invalid character
'8489' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDN' 'sip-files00102thm.jpg'
7c86a230383b3c54e7d72e5e3bfbdf02
2a6871de4dfb750a5f6faf7277d677049cb6507c
describe
'757773' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDO' 'sip-files00103.jp2'
e0b11f2408653933d3d5370f91625f74
1d22b193ac07441248e3c6d798f8465a65eb586a
describe
'142686' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDP' 'sip-files00103.jpg'
9a315bceaaf87555d4bfa8603ff73e52
cabe3d9e5ae755aaeae6ac3af119e13b5688ddf4
describe
'100118' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDQ' 'sip-files00103.pro'
927fff2f34580947cf74f36a85cb0dc1
9d805cd1dbedb4174b9c11c24c19a5067cf814e4
describe
'37264' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDR' 'sip-files00103.QC.jpg'
ca48a1d8100e53ae4f202d5c7a3ac283
d3d15745d5dcc9090728de3a8eab083fc1e523dc
'2011-12-13T06:22:22-05:00'
describe
'6075848' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDS' 'sip-files00103.tif'
a3944a667a6fafd8c4153bb75ff15b20
fdb18633fab493ea2019952a2a8459d9c70e136d
'2011-12-13T06:20:27-05:00'
describe
'4192' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDT' 'sip-files00103.txt'
2c55df8dd83b381cb63f52b07847ff0b
2865d9fd1c5bb2656fc573b05ee1dcf33f646d61
describe
'8172' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDU' 'sip-files00103thm.jpg'
a9d14f3c3a3caa52f30d1e6929974c93
674f49e8a00eacfde68aea66cccb493e00d59885
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDV' 'sip-files00104.jp2'
c3053f1acfceb51591e41ccf5312ead3
f7393f3dedec1c4a77092b3f030bdc7b751b84ec
describe
'141399' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDW' 'sip-files00104.jpg'
1ee2aac270f39e4086e2f623cb6afb92
875d02cc0b467fed6013724714e7fafa59a05db8
describe
'104555' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDX' 'sip-files00104.pro'
e1f4033f617e3da27e5a2aa5a6d4aae7
d2728564fcc1235cd8a5ff27f11e4ee4dc43e487
describe
'36009' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDY' 'sip-files00104.QC.jpg'
1256cd22219ee400d907834eb9ea7974
efabaec67ad319b2ba25e4a7cf0de00a1cf2ce67
describe
'6398396' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNDZ' 'sip-files00104.tif'
d064df93c5f6f39f06cd8075edd89e6a
540d66ebaf45e04ade35f8de613f1901771618ff
describe
'4298' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEA' 'sip-files00104.txt'
2f49bf88d140170debb5c20000ac0fdd
b1600d35bbbf020a005681395bbd5febe116f80c
describe
'8366' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEB' 'sip-files00104thm.jpg'
9b35b242925a752e36374825c53ae570
0934f8adc57abb5ffc994cbb758ea1f19e1f3b22
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEC' 'sip-files00105.jp2'
f1c2a0c43363e61889df32ba4aa4107a
655cfd87653e6f92cd3019dc672d3eaa717fda10
describe
'145430' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNED' 'sip-files00105.jpg'
262183f8160fe7a4fc3bc114c19f4733
6ceeefed2ab6b6cc4c6aa23194e55999a4067db9
describe
'105976' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEE' 'sip-files00105.pro'
69c70f88490b22af7d94ddc4b5dcf0de
089da3ed3458e6a59ad8cc09a6f9ea3d4995405d
describe
'36787' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEF' 'sip-files00105.QC.jpg'
65f0dace8e076ccf084acbde2bb3a8ee
a279ccf11142bddf0d06a49349971ccd08f9aac6
describe
'6398772' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEG' 'sip-files00105.tif'
416e758dd714066287a50601f0356d3a
eb73f5369ba6be82a2b17e69d9c583f19e3aae26
describe
'4383' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEH' 'sip-files00105.txt'
be401c3baf0b3e17652bba98efbb533c
12c7d01b413691c600494238f94f9d79b9c641bd
describe
'8446' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEI' 'sip-files00105thm.jpg'
c33eb49cd763b1d57bfc9529a11a959b
c6b87f3036791fc49297330cd6dc42d687b39b27
describe
'798050' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEJ' 'sip-files00106.jp2'
00cd513d3bdfa76682b3abe30bc10832
9137cbf289655378395cd72faeff8cc742fe71ef
describe
'125986' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEK' 'sip-files00106.jpg'
e7b831cafd78d54d81e0692bdebdac2d
0b55f7319cd0221fd98b61056e2d6c9232f5a9f2
describe
'4210' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEL' 'sip-files00106.pro'
c343a81331f8fd512ce7704b64c8981e
9995a335f70a0fc3cf0942ff6c74b6f21d5ac00f
describe
'28821' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEM' 'sip-files00106.QC.jpg'
52a8f46c065690ad0a3dd4e03498d32b
994f1f04c8ab6a6e059ab4d0b5d13e583d26ed64
describe
'6397336' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEN' 'sip-files00106.tif'
3e9263e2e5e06a36a6fbbc9f6fb05cac
7234ba6e0c5a680b121269f6eff6c7d4e82ee3ac
describe
'248' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEO' 'sip-files00106.txt'
65fde146f0d5740f548e2c8aaffc422b
f7f9718e51a77d874c96bcae78c834cff7e6a61d
describe
'6626' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEP' 'sip-files00106thm.jpg'
e29b808783a789d6b0aa3e1f1ed3ed73
0c5a0f9a7b3485fc1a4822eea38f7d2ffbec58eb
describe
'763669' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEQ' 'sip-files00107.jp2'
ee765821fd35ccc49bab6548b42f44dc
efa8c07b403b1ca1f8f63180caf01ccdbb07e5d1
describe
'123872' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNER' 'sip-files00107.jpg'
c78803325099f59c41314e228a78d5c2
6638a6c82eff8c6020415faa02fe7517097407a1
describe
'69034' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNES' 'sip-files00107.pro'
182d33c08769e191348333571266647b
63017aba7a4d7233050029a4420a6130890628cd
describe
'32584' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNET' 'sip-files00107.QC.jpg'
9ffd071c379789da3ae0bede1beac3fb
9cc83e169ebef4ce38f61ab684cc7ea05e98dd29
describe
'6122700' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEU' 'sip-files00107.tif'
b298f036d385b02977c271d3f37a16ef
42ac16482b2b4eca6ad800343d4753027b4f3193
describe
'2855' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEV' 'sip-files00107.txt'
5dbf2fc6cfe098ff90c135ffebfc90af
aded402b8858f5778bae7fa17a7b0770aaefaeff
describe
Invalid character
'7770' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEW' 'sip-files00107thm.jpg'
d2f146d67b2f29c54b373e86a90b0c3f
59761ab16ab66571e0f7a7c27907f9215cb880f0
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEX' 'sip-files00108.jp2'
fd1729bbea61cfc0cc2b780d706e5a8f
1a77e8cd419a939d9ab6f5b336de391c7562e9f2
describe
'118081' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEY' 'sip-files00108.jpg'
a1c11362f8ebe442925be4c3f3501ef1
8449856ff827eca5297d8bc842d9c20c25deee43
describe
'90207' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNEZ' 'sip-files00108.pro'
2d7709fe1047c469a4883a6493904d0b
8564e025d3df40d8bae88a394edcff87da6615ce
describe
'30322' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFA' 'sip-files00108.QC.jpg'
d91a48d95e7ba2937cecdb01ecd0a845
abfba4a91a81d91347db0f68c7b574e9c149c85b
describe
'6397580' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFB' 'sip-files00108.tif'
ca02224d7589b47ab8aea6d449327081
c59f3fbfd0f44a83679621297588f3540ab0be8b
describe
'3855' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFC' 'sip-files00108.txt'
3b739bb0abf44c7b27b370980ee40da7
bc2e13f63a3609301dc9e63c16498dafbca3c5fd
describe
'7303' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFD' 'sip-files00108thm.jpg'
bf6ecb14e3fe4c707e1d6790c47c0528
7faa546c9b5e63dbea62452a0e2f94c98c593c12
describe
'798013' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFE' 'sip-files00109.jp2'
cb311df0c0a382ed94f8ddaf140e517e
29c94477409f73c55f19ceddd5eb14f0722988bc
describe
'110767' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFF' 'sip-files00109.jpg'
6da42129854867a5c63b650f3e71c83f
a180e1b22a4a39d89f9b5636bad0fb56f7ec736c
describe
'31991' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFG' 'sip-files00109.pro'
b9dcece371a870442952c9ff3d63f273
9fb52fe710a6dcf47301844ebfe3e41988b19e4c
describe
'26705' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFH' 'sip-files00109.QC.jpg'
c08b9ba1780fdf4a21b5904506501d42
3e07281d68f23bd6abc2073b35bd1b5470031160
describe
'6397124' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFI' 'sip-files00109.tif'
6a93c1131a57d78bb5050c1e01215d90
e5c1ea520915e4196c50846440f030f1500ac097
describe
'1818' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFJ' 'sip-files00109.txt'
14874735292a0ad05f360d2b63c8c2bb
b8b325de4a735ff0a4999c46823a5bdbb373c5a5
describe
'6430' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFK' 'sip-files00109thm.jpg'
ce559eec8e65a375e6fa2b61a5efc5d4
ec32270aaf4a174f5b1b2d5d19069dc059698615
describe
'775373' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFL' 'sip-files00110.jp2'
df3ba79433bd6d7b45b408c4092bf42d
6241c7e10307477dcc3efad168d210a077ea1737
describe
'140492' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFM' 'sip-files00110.jpg'
0c08374b74e6ee1bf6df393e599465f3
99837523217d24fdd259425ac10fb9c552605403
describe
'103191' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFN' 'sip-files00110.pro'
044345f337e8fec7ff6caa0b35f09ca7
67dda556454954305589efd4c87146a512c8c36a
describe
'36463' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFO' 'sip-files00110.QC.jpg'
c8f4bda14663145ae522ea2a71193a99
9ac7e8a5abdea277b30e49ae2afa11598d84c8d2
describe
'6216976' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFP' 'sip-files00110.tif'
46d2b94cda8bb192cbbb747bd5df47ed
ac2a90e52cc7f988740abf3fa6f619494ca8007c
describe
'4321' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFQ' 'sip-files00110.txt'
7710489507d6b8f679d9c8c7906df370
581b10cf18935cf6896701d616e3ab496a65d7d0
describe
'8229' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFR' 'sip-files00110thm.jpg'
3a92ccbc29a73c42277a7671dea8444f
c414d53a90de237c5f5690c734fa6f7952b7b6ce
describe
'770939' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFS' 'sip-files00111.jp2'
abe398253fe531cabb8f7a3c0ce4ad9f
9c17852aff2c25d433a5fd370f95c9d4104fc962
describe
'93614' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFT' 'sip-files00111.jpg'
daa8b6c4c1f0b4b0fa40ad2f4c74299b
ac72014845e4356bacbf56aafb3f7f772d8a383e
describe
'64460' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFU' 'sip-files00111.pro'
4877b456eaec3451ca1131cc5b466735
f1e884bead489c9510f244eb7662315d277d0f23
describe
'25315' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFV' 'sip-files00111.QC.jpg'
a70a0c9537abef16802e3aea727b2e8c
1ed63a64770d8fb013b291d74af3d9073065360b
describe
'6180904' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFW' 'sip-files00111.tif'
8560924e0c2bfd5d515388251cf73783
52667d6bdc10793fc168522b1b7dd0aef8458818
describe
'2988' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFX' 'sip-files00111.txt'
85728f2d280dfb23144ced3d72cfa082
209aae0f6a4f44ccb6499791eee89f826dcfa9bf
describe
'6252' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFY' 'sip-files00111thm.jpg'
4a4ed85954d46289cc9b02a0eb55225b
6e29f4302c0456e4e31a8c079691c5a5c1c5fda5
describe
'762071' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNFZ' 'sip-files00112.jp2'
b8ab9f14ce749c9b8b5d562abc8c30bc
68bd19ca23f92f03287c0eb031d3daa303c7ea09
describe
'121968' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGA' 'sip-files00112.jpg'
c5f60390ae4b8ae155f9990a23e781d9
7682f4ba0e379150bed57bf0cab40fc3c92390eb
describe
'1471' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGB' 'sip-files00112.pro'
5281a4cf3aa13fa08f88d4d9f807c723
ea8a5699ef29e6f53039d39d2ebb05d500f952a3
describe
'27547' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGC' 'sip-files00112.QC.jpg'
7d2c930537c726c675de8e144aee004b
82610b18d743ea24a38b28b465b5d2730b216dc7
describe
'6108448' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGD' 'sip-files00112.tif'
4797c56dfc2df019b8b5baf6240367d9
347d7002c30a9cb56b657a478f27ca05d2b4d16c
describe
'62' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGE' 'sip-files00112.txt'
401a738fa41997eea24d74fee3af418a
f3af304673730fa3421cf4301d3b30c55eabd0c0
describe
'6604' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGF' 'sip-files00112thm.jpg'
cd1e798d5843eb18c3f173157d116703
d56f4e3600203da91a8c9c70de8ea1281d406bf3
describe
'798018' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGG' 'sip-files00113.jp2'
6bd677f0eec0ce937f16af5b63130273
4c58331b8d28b313e2c54e9c2838e8d166185244
describe
'147723' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGH' 'sip-files00113.jpg'
65426f4cb630c6e84aad7ccb07210c62
664330155e39826c9a5440a81d9ff99b033c4137
describe
'46214' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGI' 'sip-files00113.pro'
e0e525beda0fad4a6bc8323b2ca77db5
153760959ceb190f0bb74a54ecf9923d8ca1cd6c
describe
'36261' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGJ' 'sip-files00113.QC.jpg'
b2af346c07e8b45451b6340bb40ae45e
bf460fc76e31672b57f83357b63413cd5201caaa
describe
'6398632' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGK' 'sip-files00113.tif'
14ef37cb99f55881779630367e9dd68c
5dd618f3d0ec54bc76106da4fdeacd4ba5eb4a73
describe
'1944' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGL' 'sip-files00113.txt'
f5d25463cca955a7a050bf64e0b8209c
48aed3d854604e4bfbf6541c147b43592fadf6be
describe
'8585' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGM' 'sip-files00113thm.jpg'
85bd5b7462423181500d5da45f00c43d
40b58fd35252f60724e130b4652265c8430b6525
describe
'768406' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGN' 'sip-files00114.jp2'
4eb9edfc02a57b2e47f748bba67cce12
5c6dfebcd7de6835b4064f23419d5d75546669a7
describe
'147670' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGO' 'sip-files00114.jpg'
10469e463398faa78dfad8c5e94988e9
25bd9ae39e2dd66247b8a7c1228ede778588a07d
describe
'107259' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGP' 'sip-files00114.pro'
ff82e22ee39ad3b64725f55164627f82
2702d690b5ece1695e147303b6723c2ceae377a6
describe
'38749' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGQ' 'sip-files00114.QC.jpg'
3d8be776111ead6e6bd416147ec6098d
f1145b0a15d4dfa21e4e2d729eee0175ebc41e7c
describe
'6160936' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGR' 'sip-files00114.tif'
50935c25149a81fe3e4485987973c04e
5d8cd6c9a2e58ddfbfbde3b39e5951feae22b17d
describe
'4400' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGS' 'sip-files00114.txt'
73f54b028aa763a721b264ea3306e39e
0e3e23360e7f37fd6e9d6526cf2c7b9d3cd2ec16
describe
'8293' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGT' 'sip-files00114thm.jpg'
1622329337f60d3e8eab52a304805bb1
ca16fcf69d60b2b40e3d6059321fb158320fcb8a
describe
'787889' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGU' 'sip-files00115.jp2'
6095c568d64a21cebbd17f3a201832f6
4402df2f0314341d6aa916ed1fb42231e2258f66
describe
'121695' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGV' 'sip-files00115.jpg'
30d2250d251ac61727ec8abd3ac3bdc1
8fe6af6405e484a9350e843c676544e7084417c7
describe
'88531' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGW' 'sip-files00115.pro'
f758b28d8800135a68801ae21d229e2c
ec74b075c39e43d8064338accd8b012fdf446492
describe
'31877' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGX' 'sip-files00115.QC.jpg'
deade37e0de74f052a88fdc35f8a05ad
1d7743c503f8120fe7299ff6c1c0679e45c8fddb
describe
'6316808' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGY' 'sip-files00115.tif'
7b8aed62bcfdde35b1be0a4c987419f9
75a020de3e402bb2bd2ffb7b76f13cefe5374cf8
describe
'3714' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNGZ' 'sip-files00115.txt'
766da2de1a48a94f4d7d96be8bf8625c
ca3b9054df2b30a835c08ab8c0d8a66d50ba2b96
describe
'7284' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHA' 'sip-files00115thm.jpg'
bf665ec5a548a18bc202f69afd5079dc
909b33c9f352819446c0d5aff8f23c8f24bfdf36
describe
'762068' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHB' 'sip-files00116.jp2'
379abede9a275ae33bafd9f41db8c446
601d6c5fb4c990f81b429568f4bfb5808df3dba8
describe
'124620' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHC' 'sip-files00116.jpg'
78c1fcfaeb840ef0330d414ccc9fdba7
fb8d71f3fee42d182d82e145e2c716e07f46511b
describe
'53262' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHD' 'sip-files00116.pro'
c7d8c61a11f75f0ad8222c8fb654353f
432eba2f561bdce97096563c766f1afd912fc21b
describe
'33132' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHE' 'sip-files00116.QC.jpg'
d84d87502c4716254926d4ab3a285746
a821e688ef3ee806c93a2cf0b31886ab64d10943
describe
'6109956' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHF' 'sip-files00116.tif'
e61945c028897aebdbe81f6c0be2ccaa
b815a225d61348d8e8a9ee7d8dfa784cd26a3f26
describe
'2672' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHG' 'sip-files00116.txt'
7207d9338fd66d5261b6d18f664d44d1
e7b7e51587021a6df414d05ced77602cd7452c64
describe
Invalid character
'8435' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHH' 'sip-files00116thm.jpg'
3ec033066e6d5ca5561e182099da6544
e4edbec413d5350e49870d0fefe3642d7c10c37c
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHI' 'sip-files00117.jp2'
5438e19107270496dad7ea17eaf3cd97
5c32785a2b61b467a742a64a7cc83fbb8744efa6
describe
'124208' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHJ' 'sip-files00117.jpg'
1e3ff928f98d03536461bdd36a37fd45
92a1cc02589aaa6c10404e46d0547fb26b9cbe22
describe
'89217' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHK' 'sip-files00117.pro'
48f0c2501858d93297eae8ee6adc8d30
ddb529960943433f85506e24b4378fb040bdbf17
describe
'33759' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHL' 'sip-files00117.QC.jpg'
f58db2a3dc69f486dd3b1660d7889123
adc8b6c5afcca04061cdb414cb1050eff3d80fa0
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHM' 'sip-files00117.tif'
d0c1d8a9d9497b9060555c655fe3e834
23b205b1c730ca20840c7e0971df202bee6f6814
describe
'3703' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHN' 'sip-files00117.txt'
d6d906eea63f5f718023be24011a4484
ee047509d380aa291e0b40ef962b93bc3c84f8ae
describe
'7830' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHO' 'sip-files00117thm.jpg'
4966b310bc8a23d01e1f0cc6a416761e
74feb2eb432e3a5788068106e43fc549671147be
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHP' 'sip-files00118.jp2'
9f024a93f603b02dbddb69fc9ab12cd5
bfcbcdde2d2b6a064f8e4fda953c6ae1da10f78b
describe
'149042' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHQ' 'sip-files00118.jpg'
2f0913be2c0e6ca906889f5987055c65
412b4356afb7230e883baebf22e6e08ba7e315ac
describe
'107055' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHR' 'sip-files00118.pro'
ba52ca25e40804bc1b439e39a1aeee1b
da7a496fb4dd46a810b1012abf4590ca17a762cf
describe
'37866' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHS' 'sip-files00118.QC.jpg'
5f97ed88f1709507741b7ce9516410d4
c6e2c19a523c9ded511e619828161555a6a95f1a
describe
'6399072' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHT' 'sip-files00118.tif'
567e4b211b6d3c5209851b361fc587f8
611ebe7fa51e6ffac5ac34500a38fd591243b021
describe
'4397' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHU' 'sip-files00118.txt'
d072fceb9c22fdc67173e64458287053
c8b9743e62b8c72de2521f643dd99b294dbcc56f
describe
'8661' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHV' 'sip-files00118thm.jpg'
90e73a221a18839ec9b59a7928aae075
8507864ced9d2d1d9ebe9b1bb9c5332f2e6064b5
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHW' 'sip-files00119.jp2'
ed61309b543bda1e942dc4a496773df0
2600360741e1413d87a137f07523a1ea8c7582f4
describe
'147462' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHX' 'sip-files00119.jpg'
e4c8e8bbb690bb293038f2a7ef46537d
2cc773af0f0eb566ff92db7242b3acc212853bae
describe
'109594' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHY' 'sip-files00119.pro'
5ae4898165f51072979728436be52319
9078356e26ab63821aa9c2aafad1c5cf34119afd
describe
'35543' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNHZ' 'sip-files00119.QC.jpg'
2a058d0baefd79ebc58da5f5483754dd
881cb2c7078c3876713554222e46fe181e93fc84
describe
'6398504' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIA' 'sip-files00119.tif'
d8a1e29c158e5911ee60590f9c63ef3c
3b974af13c0687076efacfad6e4ff8a2e23546f0
describe
'4463' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIB' 'sip-files00119.txt'
1d6847d234eb0086dfb6d91b39d76483
d78f1f1c947e1bdd4a772020bebbbc1eac164fdb
describe
'8006' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIC' 'sip-files00119thm.jpg'
bc1ec91628445bb4c3335d8d48cc1a55
8bd0739f4e7e6cb66f2ee62a6d542447c5a865dc
describe
'798081' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNID' 'sip-files00120.jp2'
8b06173c551b1f8b89e2ca7c8246969e
d4ce3a8a6b2a29662e4bd14292851b142da2863b
describe
'131972' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIE' 'sip-files00120.jpg'
ee95517848372588bc189e399425ddf7
036982b091ee929ba378ae69cdd21f052e506f3c
describe
'14165' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIF' 'sip-files00120.pro'
39777f99089a339d9c1449da56572263
f33b1ac878bd233c20564c41946baf0f11637b83
describe
'30857' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIG' 'sip-files00120.QC.jpg'
7ad2f97c39d709fb59eb753c4f0f0b86
04bfaa9154e3b711164b6ddff2e216d794ed803d
describe
'6396900' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIH' 'sip-files00120.tif'
0be3cea32a5dc1ec16105d6cb8ec92bb
d8475c0f281150ee522c1e24b1925e0b5ee5be01
describe
'779' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNII' 'sip-files00120.txt'
f681d51951ef0b83501e9f2e3a3d6f31
17e5992859f968e18ff3f4d8c08476d36e0c3a7e
describe
Invalid character
'7278' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIJ' 'sip-files00120thm.jpg'
a7e259eda72874f453790a12ddce3a9c
7fdd423ad0c7114368c8d6e0dcaccafa55a5357a
describe
'772603' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIK' 'sip-files00121.jp2'
6342c2baae89028a5508c572491dce95
b1231c52bf36bbdd8c60933e88a1e7dfe0010bed
describe
'146850' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIL' 'sip-files00121.jpg'
4762efe44e0c42c52d4b4a2a133ec2a6
1573cdc761f086f9a57f2d5645f12bffcb388f86
describe
'103633' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIM' 'sip-files00121.pro'
58508912c966602e53b7e9831eb593bb
48196ccf4bb3a0c3f9184781a1e60cf43be2f28b
describe
'37241' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIN' 'sip-files00121.QC.jpg'
18cf8f3d725ef754dda5c936d6529f42
e7440decf77559d5a7ff8919a96f4140af82ad8c
describe
'6194684' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIO' 'sip-files00121.tif'
02665682952a53922428bef813bb3d28
a8ca1ae86d674ac66ee7f0f5bd1057a985d96bf9
describe
'4302' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIP' 'sip-files00121.txt'
377f1b082ef4afce3ffc7f5cc6d4b2b2
6971266f5334ff01b0d6e4ac0ab54019dd23a51a
describe
'8384' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIQ' 'sip-files00121thm.jpg'
4b062b73a6b435fb7c7892eea10bba23
d6d8b756ae3597dd06e86db07576f9ec0ccde1c2
describe
'783257' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIR' 'sip-files00122.jp2'
5909dde1baa39ee2124d999f14ab257e
1200d43615a42477afc1bcf902bd2d0b02cd3acf
describe
'142696' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIS' 'sip-files00122.jpg'
03fce60d739f25360eb2c35d708c1126
017cd3761534118c4f48e721607dc133570f09df
describe
'104863' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIT' 'sip-files00122.pro'
4c96179e667efe5f8f73dab990643aed
0f9b6af032c676f4cdff81eaffc1e7056895cf8b
describe
'36080' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIU' 'sip-files00122.QC.jpg'
fe50e6084c17f30fe65ad63133a3efcc
07bb6cb5c237f00e2bcd77e1a35ab335bd2508ff
describe
'6279636' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIV' 'sip-files00122.tif'
0d2c22f86d6bf9620b9bcc839d8ddbb1
6e28407bd3f5b6f44a5c94b9a1e7444550192858
'2011-12-13T06:21:34-05:00'
describe
'4293' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIW' 'sip-files00122.txt'
452f9b43b56a5498f7e2ceac8d32b857
0842c3d101f4c8b989f8372c8be8c6a408e9fec9
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIX' 'sip-files00122thm.jpg'
ee6c826bce2b32d829d56ab78586c54b
df571a368a9db545eb6075bf1fb5376fa7243b3a
describe
'772626' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIY' 'sip-files00123.jp2'
fb56d50e3eb48915d9331f8244d1f871
a6ce617d54dc1b554d24117d55b94682aae8aec3
describe
'109624' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNIZ' 'sip-files00123.jpg'
aaeb7b8797982e2e8920fa509ba66237
9cb8fad785d4ba3c80802cd13135b991e2c10028
describe
'73433' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJA' 'sip-files00123.pro'
5323e2042887a51bbcc6914daf366c82
9c75b132f57b217ef6167c689c05908f1339955c
describe
'28874' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJB' 'sip-files00123.QC.jpg'
928c41cc98ae7e2610d6c9f9523ec905
0b1e6696da5689cc14c3e50a844c58c2b355c9ec
describe
'6193844' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJC' 'sip-files00123.tif'
cfbfaa6666ded8e34d9c61fbd8e428d0
21dc2a58eb1bb0fe79ff632067b56da0f234d476
describe
'3141' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJD' 'sip-files00123.txt'
feaa849c037fecbfa655c252b0029890
4fbdda3186f3705db795f95979a00cd7cf00b33b
describe
'6887' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJE' 'sip-files00123thm.jpg'
47fc0f446bf68afd9044eddd9f87f01a
f369e14e57153679fb9ecf7e10086fdc26a73abd
describe
'772395' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJF' 'sip-files00124.jp2'
31a2ad47fd34af708074065ebcc67bf8
e04093269fe92de183248c1802c22d17f3ae25e4
describe
'141817' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJG' 'sip-files00124.jpg'
9c58a6f081e21aa6df1d9edc5d676da9
b8cf9428f7e3e45ddc7102267f27d7b18d80f1bd
describe
'101434' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJH' 'sip-files00124.pro'
3c54ae9de9848394f9c61d8b3b7d2ae7
f2a905d03a0468cf4a972cc09586fb5196f3a689
describe
'36455' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJI' 'sip-files00124.QC.jpg'
42cac46e54cf8e09286b239038859cd2
83fdfc2c123a25f4ef210d694ed89b8fe62adcbf
describe
'6193008' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJJ' 'sip-files00124.tif'
0b68f5df64af92bb0b72ba9234a228a5
e6e3f41025249514a2277265eb1f330a4075456f
describe
'4301' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJK' 'sip-files00124.txt'
f1afe650d0080b7f39c2f1e37176e5a8
b9631e685cb907d29b796dda2df3516077b23a3c
describe
'8304' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJL' 'sip-files00124thm.jpg'
238608db2cdeb480c598a98227a329d5
b5ef8e3ca60493fa9e84c0e14b462e875c1b515b
describe
'781145' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJM' 'sip-files00125.jp2'
81ae0793ab3c6c952c78ba5346aac501
b2c8871e22bde732286d6b56b56849ad237b28f5
describe
'141306' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJN' 'sip-files00125.jpg'
b3fe0a20b436d8be3052cf3ee040dd9d
147036042363a71c4a37f327c3bb088264dfe0dc
describe
'106834' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJO' 'sip-files00125.pro'
0aeb983fa7b327d4d897d3fbce21347c
c1ca5045bc6ce836a8f5f46268e45f424861782b
describe
'34580' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJP' 'sip-files00125.QC.jpg'
6582a857b193c62e1f1b0844611b68e2
22d8a79dc18d18ac035b127b2e11ebbe55376019
describe
'6263188' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJQ' 'sip-files00125.tif'
db2e2c441a7ccb2b566f753da82d64e0
b6355985ba7eb19a7fb830d3b4575a15122f88f0
describe
'4369' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJR' 'sip-files00125.txt'
2afe360e138aa791c4b5cff680b08c1d
9959b5fddaeca5c4a14fd89d4837024dcdde6895
describe
'7753' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJS' 'sip-files00125thm.jpg'
acb369141564ae3c04848f8eac338408
0156e8d7331004f57fc20d0d0edf3b566b7af309
describe
'767665' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJT' 'sip-files00126.jp2'
ea0f365fc86f53c6ddc3f5c205e5e1b0
6565f2e91aae80c838c27e5e38977c5a6e3cca12
describe
'144848' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJU' 'sip-files00126.jpg'
7d12382a5030c3b25915e8604a406bc7
cc5b8d0155e3619bd3f88fec4d00b1ffc0c4513e
describe
'52681' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJV' 'sip-files00126.pro'
9e3ae05beefd4c4dbfb73e0a2692cc84
6017da57330a7d402898b8b15f9a5462d4795c50
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJW' 'sip-files00126.QC.jpg'
054410ecb3543ef0d2463667906e36ed
a785dc238083c7f1c0e9421e37e8f2277cbd7ca1
describe
'6156748' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJX' 'sip-files00126.tif'
e00a2dfea2104f748d321ebd8fe5ca3f
58f189eb51bd2d396260cb85785c0390c1335181
describe
'2175' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJY' 'sip-files00126.txt'
55388b2df93a8e4b787bfd14bd44ec11
0401fb749d70b323a58015c4a9a7d37d61c0c4d3
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNJZ' 'sip-files00126thm.jpg'
1324684b282fb981e4e3a4a6b7a99c5a
baad33d8ac20918eee85423dbcb943e38597f88a
describe
'781123' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKA' 'sip-files00127.jp2'
f98a1deb99feaada072f4d6fd987b967
9f38ae663c5672689a64af7aa1fc9be9f941bc92
describe
'132292' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKB' 'sip-files00127.jpg'
0a3b378731fe1b751df8758de449bf63
60aba48accaf4f25b08657e74ddb9d611e3ea2b3
describe
'100949' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKC' 'sip-files00127.pro'
99a3e14801ef01c851b1e20ddc06af19
72ddb8601d01975424b0a11d691535c06a09edee
describe
'33955' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKD' 'sip-files00127.QC.jpg'
6da750b25230328b982e24fce0788945
47fce574936d08dc7a35ffc83747ee91d56b9f5b
describe
'6263080' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKE' 'sip-files00127.tif'
465dfb6d16fbabd3976e3fe7a7eae9a1
3d978a631490eb8acbee98a042f434043389371a
describe
'4133' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKF' 'sip-files00127.txt'
0c893e243a15ace8c121aa42237e9ffe
730bb1c1488c36ee4a660ab794effed09b54e3f8
describe
'7906' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKG' 'sip-files00127thm.jpg'
689fd648692161b71c6a334bce4a6046
a6c551f1a691f0ec31f8e679e9a24f45f7bc7b04
describe
'755697' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKH' 'sip-files00128.jp2'
b2f4325a4c282dacfd07759f84f50d7d
3b231d2950c4b73d2eb0a57739d7a1a8b74271c4
describe
'146749' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKI' 'sip-files00128.jpg'
e59a44bd874e6ba656b5e2fa5e3083eb
cdb028677591afcca820335e2a35194decf55e42
describe
'88446' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKJ' 'sip-files00128.pro'
df0fbe3da21bb126022540218d4cf88d
f5dbfac51c330167f66557e54f191018d6e11e10
describe
'37718' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKK' 'sip-files00128.QC.jpg'
d50c60334d06442f2fb861ce78db6433
117f75afabbe263ebd36476f36390d78fbdfd494
describe
'6059064' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKL' 'sip-files00128.tif'
32cb3ee6d69412b7eaec0efed96c93ca
fb1cd18c5cf6ac373e03f0c2c8165b2edf985a14
'2011-12-13T06:20:32-05:00'
describe
'4006' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKM' 'sip-files00128.txt'
2dd7f96cb6696355b4bd15bb9e494e4d
cbcba531bfc63459232b8b52177f82a83ccdedfb
describe
'8848' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKN' 'sip-files00128thm.jpg'
a42824e9be65d69f8f83091247078573
02bffd927216a75b4621a63c5891c359ec82130e
describe
'777730' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKO' 'sip-files00129.jp2'
8247b63d1acaeb7b23939739d773bae8
b89516e049dc320caef75050f140e269ca7244b5
describe
'131962' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKP' 'sip-files00129.jpg'
d750a8e2578b78b8295f2d23dcf5bfcc
74ac9bb49eea208a37d0c041716b728e40d092d5
describe
'93858' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKQ' 'sip-files00129.pro'
4b093a6e3af485ddb5b2542f3d2dde3c
fd38f78ab0453ad4f8c11c86914997caeee18b54
describe
'34388' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKR' 'sip-files00129.QC.jpg'
8ea125f86122dede36e3bf1da531b08b
31e97c6fc78ce36dea0e4fb7702c959557741e65
describe
'6236292' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKS' 'sip-files00129.tif'
ad04e8bdcc756f7d4e62c846c430af5b
f7b6562ebe0463ea00ae680efa6e3f30c849f228
describe
'3976' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKT' 'sip-files00129.txt'
87b8f462f9055a4b71b122d1754c671c
161249803f34ea7374d2b54a61c5bed08878b27e
describe
'7841' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKU' 'sip-files00129thm.jpg'
66cb380d838c97b63e3f5443962367ab
7381a70a36005a973cdb717dd805607933a9850c
describe
'766271' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKV' 'sip-files00130.jp2'
187c15d4d499a3b3c8e7e016d88f8c5e
f0e516a4281b42b73dfc4f6409b0de5ec76d5296
describe
'118643' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKW' 'sip-files00130.jpg'
b7e9a82a6de936a4d05909c28ecbdd1a
ae18aea88a4589edffcda015788a8578c68ca698
describe
'883' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKX' 'sip-files00130.pro'
dd31d0bfcf5a41c2ba286c071fd2e186
dda8eaea677de54189c6cb1eb1c86ab473ad29a3
describe
'26802' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKY' 'sip-files00130.QC.jpg'
003a5f02d3d1ce703d7f7be118e6cbea
18fe77f2cc176e39f3c6e717ef4c1a33a74b9f85
describe
'6142204' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNKZ' 'sip-files00130.tif'
f2ae8e3c9d7cb2056b74137cf5699e7e
ae1da1c56c1a92746fc33bf36b5cdaedf221a24b
describe
'162' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLA' 'sip-files00130.txt'
bd83c718e44e7e84e361cdd1e63b1519
ee98ed5d646850bfbaa10a2fcbfbcf0644e71548
describe
'6118' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLB' 'sip-files00130thm.jpg'
364efbb74986f2dd0ba5c47a6db6a2de
75bc8d725e1107939226b14fc76f953b5fd447c6
describe
'798056' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLC' 'sip-files00131.jp2'
0c5f42d3a37a1e31db85238dff08595b
deef9649ca478480436e01c4cd577b2c6ba2a13b
describe
'136400' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLD' 'sip-files00131.jpg'
06dafbc2d7cf15549e0af1f6a0f3b7e6
f3125f540840be8adbb443c12ce9f445dbfcb353
describe
'103236' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLE' 'sip-files00131.pro'
e2b8147f2b3fe52c208bab0e72b5d258
d98e1423e7e3a68cdebb98508a407b7f1ccf7484
describe
'35414' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLF' 'sip-files00131.QC.jpg'
d40bce66d55e024383c4a4d950126ce9
ba77751aa57e3794fdc0c8f37412297ceb4023ff
describe
'6398472' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLG' 'sip-files00131.tif'
104f2d89b5f13a59dd69b57febf0bec6
6ba1106dd7cdd68684902b9e96f312b660e2cd69
describe
'4233' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLH' 'sip-files00131.txt'
a42ca28894fa6933cce87b20442cbddf
f81491bd1162564fd84c3ced53281da6e15dd409
describe
'8194' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLI' 'sip-files00131thm.jpg'
97dfca77476fd8424990568e5f656d14
1d2675120dde4c5e95a695fde3a37729b4e39396
describe
'766263' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLJ' 'sip-files00132.jp2'
0e84021cfe7e3726fada78709f738e85
0aec8c704d8d87a891f1500db06328651a0da1ee
describe
'152406' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLK' 'sip-files00132.jpg'
c0a63018a4f8419cae60d06d5b2b9e6b
bc9474f40d56d97cdffeca99ea6e6c15e5a1974c
describe
'110244' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLL' 'sip-files00132.pro'
9b73249762c17e08f80382166ca92680
82f37cc2829d3bfe06f112eb9fdd43d7f549b4df
describe
'39045' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLM' 'sip-files00132.QC.jpg'
3b2ba3b240b4662cfdf15d5bec576ca3
49c78a48ffd494c4914a09578f08fa3bc8a70c49
describe
'6144192' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLN' 'sip-files00132.tif'
597d37fbd8f0ba5fb686a666c7b8af11
b12be1467dc1e98627f39a43fc9a40f15fe4741a
describe
'4551' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLO' 'sip-files00132.txt'
f375022c0e40aec6ca93a9bc3914f773
3cd8d3b14697bdeaecfaa92e16676d2321468cea
describe
'8747' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLP' 'sip-files00132thm.jpg'
f5eb43fa8cea702a8a75fbe04991ba54
65f8ed87f77f11811284b6e05ca5e73792740765
describe
'787099' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLQ' 'sip-files00133.jp2'
ebcb86db712ec68c0d1367363c5ce61c
2a92aaf6e13399744ba6486a35cebcb1ba952a17
describe
'169193' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLR' 'sip-files00133.jpg'
3d9911f363ea35968863f82c5b074a55
c1387b44707dbbf6f55fba20fcc316718baa3cd2
describe
'62344' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLS' 'sip-files00133.pro'
612f793fe84dd3866d7894009f0c9e44
5f9d89fda9f66a99a0e12082bd5d013abe143208
describe
'39979' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLT' 'sip-files00133.QC.jpg'
a8db53b0cebe7c6a9466062a956b221b
3f9ac3123d1537a830cc0f37f8371237bb3d1c86
describe
'6313960' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLU' 'sip-files00133.tif'
8e5306a71e7b521b770e7dcee141b39d
526a0d2e7ab1db8eb521be27053ba65237914e10
describe
'3414' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLV' 'sip-files00133.txt'
8f902754828c1a1ace4067f301a2a7f1
92ebb75f8764b78076ea7d4b95a91dc806e6a6cb
describe
Invalid character
'9140' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLW' 'sip-files00133thm.jpg'
2f09db65ec36149bae45bc1459a4cdbb
1af81e3715bba21e92d9cdb5ffe5dc10014d0605
describe
'787902' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLX' 'sip-files00134.jp2'
4db87049941b031f138f451232fbd6aa
ed972ace36c49eb6027aa409817ddf89cb821b41
describe
'133882' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLY' 'sip-files00134.jpg'
e277196ab2c60d8afdf2920f6e4904d7
929bd8bf9af91894ac6ef6ccde6894897c1d19c1
describe
'97075' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNLZ' 'sip-files00134.pro'
97cb2f46a96bb5e4b1b075c58687b172
3b5f983965f6efb4dceac6dd4c70cd9192194584
describe
'34517' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMA' 'sip-files00134.QC.jpg'
5edf1b07885c05fa5ddb63a7dab6fa9b
ea0ceec4812bfc99b5bf4c21f8671b2f286b5be1
describe
'6317348' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMB' 'sip-files00134.tif'
4696ece6903b485b35d87289bdda6627
59a2b9b9613e70b8e2b456b88edd72c86e6b36cc
describe
'4077' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMC' 'sip-files00134.txt'
53b9dde0b5fd5ed2d79069056e650aba
3aa88150f3095be8215f8aaea1aa62e575ac6019
describe
'7959' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMD' 'sip-files00134thm.jpg'
c3bc302a6d05f155f5798e2d74d6f7dd
bbd356101d0d0b4af37916ef01ae545d4d7c11b2
describe
'732957' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNME' 'sip-files00135.jp2'
d83ebc9079ecd64a3d6105fb90185f8c
c4452ed21a8163f03ac0de39d2841a378baccc55
describe
'150856' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMF' 'sip-files00135.jpg'
c283439baa289272baf78729c810d0ac
26982342b575a97e256455c8542dc0579ddcc6cc
describe
'100727' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMG' 'sip-files00135.pro'
6412ab97e74a424c4ee7e05cc0ac8e65
7705080bdb0e057690f65d2741d8e167ec41a99b
describe
'38905' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMH' 'sip-files00135.QC.jpg'
162b7741f76d3511e48774be906775ac
82fdcf00a09273d4476886366ebd26f77044997d
describe
'5877304' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMI' 'sip-files00135.tif'
9c96c9bf67ccf7eea4d4af58d9298e30
f8ad32db7f41f5f37d5198e0b659166b8e1cd7e7
describe
'4150' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMJ' 'sip-files00135.txt'
6db1ff79bfb12be98a81cb7ae3881c14
976c90dbd342bbf14581c901e390546473984dad
describe
'8949' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMK' 'sip-files00135thm.jpg'
f37713c68496297c56e1d2f2320a4264
f7cfac4f25c5d4899f9d557964400211cc6cfc91
describe
'804446' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNML' 'sip-files00136.jp2'
efdd134373ef306dc74960b5445cac67
be5e1141b14ffbff4c457b70101b96e007e9d187
describe
'139438' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMM' 'sip-files00136.jpg'
15cebc9d18ff5fe4b96ae863fc9509c4
92c46c62f6ca106a1bdf3922e4023db4b899dc73
describe
'108122' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMN' 'sip-files00136.pro'
5742c3981a36ca7f2e195e188073e816
9da5e06ee224531443506ee0ac98f660ceb070cd
describe
'34611' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMO' 'sip-files00136.QC.jpg'
1df9cbc40d4d4b87f199baf250514959
511644c8e7bc0f532f57a42e0ab84221a97abb32
describe
'6449316' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMP' 'sip-files00136.tif'
6c2f867fd055e028faa4ec4db795adfd
577b6fb01499a2e8356edd560252600b9c84f3d0
describe
'4503' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMQ' 'sip-files00136.txt'
47609cd20dc68a655c6139e72fc82db7
5bbfb334b31124db7f9811317a34950110f490db
describe
'8024' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMR' 'sip-files00136thm.jpg'
d6ca9a411b8dbee9a1b5cd501cc91f54
c773ed776b1a37d17416fa1c95a61fcfd80edc3a
describe
'742394' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMS' 'sip-files00137.jp2'
e47b420fa4c6613d1cbaf5ff95828161
b29f59297b3226afebf32efa2b5a0ebd203efa28
describe
'159508' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMT' 'sip-files00137.jpg'
c64b67fef94525b360596fc4524bfe51
dcaa1794fc7a42be29cff52469a47b6e938b3d71
describe
'104270' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMU' 'sip-files00137.pro'
6809d1f079b201ab7cf4f508e35aa037
0009faa8c7d1a2013825e80328070bda88425047
describe
'40594' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMV' 'sip-files00137.QC.jpg'
e2e62f40a7bb950054371f54965a54cf
0a3f6adeaae3974912c397dee356b8f5580c68f3
describe
'5953400' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMW' 'sip-files00137.tif'
380b18000f0b33c00b80cbce277ba33a
33acb31beffd87eca773d1c75d41e72351cb9ac7
describe
'4275' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMX' 'sip-files00137.txt'
065e4c4a722d8a5a7f952dbd7800dbe4
0722a50e5f38831042e4e47f6610fad9d04118ba
describe
'9294' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMY' 'sip-files00137thm.jpg'
c47838f7ecf0c3446fb20af6944b2191
3236d2434855b1b367560b933d42b1d72e1478eb
describe
'767589' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNMZ' 'sip-files00138.jp2'
5f7071b14dd5cf21c0c5b781616fe4f7
de00e4bbe4d54ffc76d6e957980010e77619e9a2
describe
'67849' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNA' 'sip-files00138.jpg'
e4ba3bc348434ea6a3ac3f4f34790fa5
9b8ea26c32c0cf9241aad7462f6a8a12ca6f5d19
describe
'2779' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNB' 'sip-files00138.pro'
97879f8b8301735f9ba0b2932bcfc140
bedae3ccc67c5aecd5b91a5bf75b3c01357ca141
describe
'18548' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNC' 'sip-files00138.QC.jpg'
e492684ac02733625063be4fac9f637b
1c7a879f2df6ac676090b4aec270353d8baeb81a
describe
'6152540' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNND' 'sip-files00138.tif'
c0be1278026f653662ae1925515c4f7b
62af7ec34e79d3d7514832628c3c4503ce335ee4
describe
'126' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNE' 'sip-files00138.txt'
f84553417a87a17cafa354abb35482cf
094452d7ee1d48517252eb1e9d403a5c84f7db3b
describe
'5316' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNF' 'sip-files00138thm.jpg'
edac8049aa527f1750e2505fb82188bb
114f61094fa8d51c9eb16c2a5735666891d78ac9
describe
'739270' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNG' 'sip-files00139.jp2'
4be58393c8b0ce45ad5f8d7d6e7aed3a
599d719cb3ee7cb1b0406f96a91b5721e3a1f506
describe
'141787' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNH' 'sip-files00139.jpg'
37ab497a3c187fdc7fe5101fa6abf70d
7b9b2894791274ff1ef227bef0f896b5e8781db0
describe
'99570' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNI' 'sip-files00139.pro'
b3a4f230490f257a6abdf0f69df71683
4cc70cd21faa1391186eb6aab86325da4fc5f53c
describe
'36407' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNJ' 'sip-files00139.QC.jpg'
48fa35af79ba79c1bb70ef6ef411c1d4
c9ef431c892d47282b460b082ce3ddb22ece63a8
describe
'5927632' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNK' 'sip-files00139.tif'
cf0204f186613e37cc8f1029a30dacb7
817d592d4d9df1f1de53787d2911e01930448e61
describe
'4119' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNL' 'sip-files00139.txt'
fa362619fd63fab7939c6d7c8b7ba304
7e4351bcfb319f1a2a6c917b563b9759e9f2056c
describe
'8238' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNM' 'sip-files00139thm.jpg'
e8d080da9836ccb18a71887e40c8b1a6
024d02e568ce3d5f720efcabf2ccd9a045e318a2
describe
'776907' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNN' 'sip-files00140.jp2'
dac235197a31681576ffda619d561cd1
094c4e7772fdfa263cc0ab76aff2759bc2865aa5
describe
'152674' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNO' 'sip-files00140.jpg'
9b39869798b864a47a8941d687f93e8d
067474b5298ba819f6ebb38329c68c3ef887bc3f
describe
'112865' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNP' 'sip-files00140.pro'
c1a6d92055fd7b530b8988802f6e4aed
249a0fe24885adf1d62def6fe9bf3d346290eb54
describe
'38398' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNQ' 'sip-files00140.QC.jpg'
8c138ca81decc14d1ad149a46d8aa3cb
bedc8bd521938d360bbd235fde2050d8da906ee7
describe
'6228700' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNR' 'sip-files00140.tif'
a7e7094113e62c70b56d81ecdcd14a60
ac101dbf0a61e8b6749ac4501fd412d8825c8d59
describe
'4592' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNS' 'sip-files00140.txt'
807fe98047ce943d8914928e89a67933
16047d7923918e4aae5034c829cd184773f877ee
describe
'8408' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNT' 'sip-files00140thm.jpg'
c4e6c8f13004d45cc79f2e52f14905b9
badd25f9b48558a82b7f1bbfe8bedb696e6dc36d
describe
'767437' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNU' 'sip-files00141.jp2'
523f8c4103653077adcb88ef4a9c6a10
1f250083d9855fbc54d5e82928a3bfffe70f8ff0
describe
'168279' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNV' 'sip-files00141.jpg'
e2b1e368bb5fc6710ec0097e9eb9980a
1287d1d082c9f15f0f9ee6802476501c21133ad9
describe
'50724' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNW' 'sip-files00141.pro'
9374ff00f4e54c4c96112c85f1a44e65
1682ddee2a2ea6697160c557d2558b32de4bb799
describe
'40720' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNX' 'sip-files00141.QC.jpg'
0e86a794c286a6a974807e1dd0642bef
cf56ab538f4d4b0ec196b483128bebccfb71e3cb
describe
'6153068' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNY' 'sip-files00141.tif'
b67261c8bb5741d07867a7292acefe10
4c7eb43947457d3635b75e515feebf6d82428d09
describe
'2409' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNNZ' 'sip-files00141.txt'
19716faec59de7a91c30c46cce0dcaad
dd515224dc78687aece88f6477ae66467a9b04c5
describe
Invalid character
'9473' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOA' 'sip-files00141thm.jpg'
0fd5caa1f13fdb807135290fa0f5ee16
607429d2579e7fe8fb086597252c01765b86771d
describe
'767559' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOB' 'sip-files00142.jp2'
806a25ce2ed04b4f3ed375e70fc2eccf
488c08f6bfb53babcbcfdd0b639716ed2b869a85
describe
'172219' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOC' 'sip-files00142.jpg'
0b9a94ef45a4f8f8fb27b8eaeac7c279
e2256ccf173cea10c304c85a320971d941814d73
describe
'28058' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOD' 'sip-files00142.pro'
0678e144fe5df4784c9ad7a9923e73f6
4d72ab6072ddbc9c3af5ce82fe5c1135e30c2775
describe
'41312' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOE' 'sip-files00142.QC.jpg'
5373cb7406d87a21f935d8b9a90486f3
8c7729616aeb51ba047f87be851dcd45ccd504a1
describe
'6157532' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOF' 'sip-files00142.tif'
1ac29d23956af1172921d4e6845dc118
b2431aeb15d381adc79526574068112850185b1e
describe
'1160' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOG' 'sip-files00142.txt'
17aa06f9a43060f0ba837b247ce24d22
7763d3b4fde28e98a87668657396476b465160a1
describe
'9410' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOH' 'sip-files00142thm.jpg'
23bffd8fb3ee4c363107eefbe9ce455f
079f750ef386ddb0a58f4120eed4348a2121ab0e
describe
'764108' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOI' 'sip-files00143.jp2'
9c84c8daeecfc5f2850ad374ccd382ac
523c74f6736a4a5df67312c3ef168891d649e934
describe
'130282' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOJ' 'sip-files00143.jpg'
076c70eabcd3dd871c7182782a02c513
6a4f5042d2f5878216e10439b45d6567e32b58e0
describe
'97899' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOK' 'sip-files00143.pro'
6fe3dabdd6e8e1780d92176eaf228639
b22a7c0149460d892cf66b9cecc3a1a8defea3ef
describe
'33575' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOL' 'sip-files00143.QC.jpg'
35095784482ccbbd1f136943379efd35
bb21df55c18236e6338ab5a7e61b0ecd77bb1520
describe
'6126408' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOM' 'sip-files00143.tif'
c53e9bd58cc45aa0b5af340f41842f1d
c94444575775c8d528ecbbf2349bd1c9bb82fe18
describe
'4125' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNON' 'sip-files00143.txt'
cbb4a44379b116e2315831b1f2e1a139
f06b09afd5ec864b37a7b0f33a570133206f8903
describe
'7828' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOO' 'sip-files00143thm.jpg'
f2e63d51a014e3022acc51b310ea1cbd
f966b9279090bc7efe3de3cc4d750be59e47f1bd
describe
'718899' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOP' 'sip-files00144.jp2'
5d11493ea2d4a7678819fadedf60dda0
08b97697fb1b18a7ded38ba59ec6fca2c7889911
describe
'155985' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOQ' 'sip-files00144.jpg'
8ea17d2efdfdfeed377f40b82adb2603
59b15b73441585a51d6a0b4385a896175a5f0fdd
describe
'103793' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOR' 'sip-files00144.pro'
f3c90fc112447e47464e2a737733b333
86ebf1abefcfe3c8b73af5e4cd29d5121e40e4e1
describe
'40442' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOS' 'sip-files00144.QC.jpg'
a3ca0ab8fb5b2dffe1622ff9c6f646a2
1ca4b776cae6a382538527f961d9bad34b380d8b
describe
'5764972' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOT' 'sip-files00144.tif'
8fd1b572571c97f58efe938128324fb2
cff8d1f1cc87c6b336838a20b2c39cfd931d2f1c
describe
'4347' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOU' 'sip-files00144.txt'
e2826bb47ad7bf5d351fb1d1ccc49e7b
7389cb40a125c5253e1b601b5d5dc24155444d58
describe
Invalid character
'9052' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOV' 'sip-files00144thm.jpg'
f236c1b13e0169b6a68635306b556046
6e6678a8e2d3439ca660b634eb11e99970fad25d
describe
'775714' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOW' 'sip-files00145.jp2'
6e55690de4920d1533346c38b197bc6e
ca21de9b3ea5e21f998a716cdda2c38890054c7c
describe
'141968' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOX' 'sip-files00145.jpg'
fe8e236cb2d536cc76d00a31f143d19c
b2a1820625914bc6a1197fc996b5140af56a4193
describe
'103924' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOY' 'sip-files00145.pro'
6c36b908c5f6abd6061d29da99c483c6
b7d56fc3fad17e3870181310169dbacdd807b6bd
describe
'36876' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNOZ' 'sip-files00145.QC.jpg'
74e1b685b21a217c5029b7cab11f80c2
7f3a9ae7819f249c67bf6d572374e24e0e56eccb
describe
'6220256' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPA' 'sip-files00145.tif'
72f8a93f51446a6029bcc010d502c221
cb02b526d953a5cef66060d759ea8f6e0974e239
describe
'4244' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPB' 'sip-files00145.txt'
d9eecb59c490e5e0790972d20ba1c7c6
3c7ba9067fe3c6c9188ba461f8639c5e87370136
describe
'8411' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPC' 'sip-files00145thm.jpg'
58a0b228196baf61b2587c5d4bb8c3ec
b5ed5cf48b8fb618bf8d9cfba6a2a4f906a30579
describe
'739257' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPD' 'sip-files00146.jp2'
b44a8494069654faf78e984770ae140f
dab78b1a6db7ff8015abb0157109b7c025d8f158
describe
'141811' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPE' 'sip-files00146.jpg'
17f313e527bab3b9bb03e30a8d3e9740
d280b8dcb80fb5e3c7270613aa494cfe852c76ba
describe
'94013' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPF' 'sip-files00146.pro'
3581ce0fd008644fc33d278ae21bb970
d256b444151dd5a5d1d4426c5adee9b8d2a6e7e9
describe
'36797' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPG' 'sip-files00146.QC.jpg'
faaae452e859eaf330aa3cf53d633590
b3dae7c17553f3ee26e301032e4a9517bf276a79
describe
'5927584' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPH' 'sip-files00146.tif'
83e1ba0ea92d2ad2fc02687c7d63c3bb
8821a57c68fd43b1d14ecd062494eb61e5b6e1e8
describe
'4064' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPI' 'sip-files00146.txt'
05b991b44e00bbd0e9d41d95057d7b32
b7a67c1b71fb973e461c985e0b6cfafb0bf59509
describe
Invalid character
'8621' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPJ' 'sip-files00146thm.jpg'
6bde5959558a2492eca8b67d27d95471
d172fefad2e43cce21e64585ba35d89238b6a0c7
describe
'792963' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPK' 'sip-files00147.jp2'
10851ada970b040703e8ca297ed6aa17
ba256473fe049f07e541be7ba4724ba7bf23def9
describe
'120811' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPL' 'sip-files00147.jpg'
f5d6cdefff337a1b7e1854f960d4ae04
b593a86bd70fbff554fe3ba51009d2294515daa8
describe
'80120' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPM' 'sip-files00147.pro'
cd0a7d153c30e914a299a1b7c3667c05
f27edf91720f0c69c7ddb2619eba97b86cde356f
describe
'31920' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPN' 'sip-files00147.QC.jpg'
a3d3fbb11532ef6fa278dd85c4a122d1
2e1f5f10a21e36746496aa798fe7aea4b98dbe6e
describe
'6357352' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPO' 'sip-files00147.tif'
ceab6abb8598cdb2e03998811850cdbb
37da444c065efc023e85f6d6c8f7e0f3b3829ac9
describe
'3622' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPP' 'sip-files00147.txt'
fabaef5b579e138c37de77adf5fdb9a8
d3bb71936d9d93b65153ab573d0d1a4df2d817e8
describe
Invalid character
'7773' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPQ' 'sip-files00147thm.jpg'
fe14f3516b52502ab077591129b113fb
10889349f63263ec548a078d803b853fbc5865a0
describe
'738682' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPR' 'sip-files00148.jp2'
0fdb35ac3c30d713151a78f728850c91
f86e96e97b63429854b942bde2782f1714c3cb22
describe
'138693' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPS' 'sip-files00148.jpg'
6ecd9a34cd057f1bb61e4520311c96da
b80b2a84473c89b78598e234e2a600e6c40a9207
describe
'3628' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPT' 'sip-files00148.pro'
3bfe11a81e04463eea6530710dc3ab87
3f5f3d1638329d6dbcfd21468e2ec525c35bd593
describe
'32108' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPU' 'sip-files00148.QC.jpg'
0acb1237772d329c95535cf7dd1d3517
7af176a4711d2d8edd71d1a70134bf40590e15ae
describe
'5922444' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPV' 'sip-files00148.tif'
4c8e843898e68fd9bb92dcf52d577711
eaa16ea30f115c9df8383c7bcc4170e02bbbbe24
describe
'314' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPW' 'sip-files00148.txt'
3996f5e8c399fee038faedcacbb0393c
ec2874d23fef0a289a03eecb4dd9f47a6c58abb4
describe
Invalid character
'7524' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPX' 'sip-files00148thm.jpg'
252da96ee5ca381681fe22afe7aa6b3d
361fa03b0ab7b7c8691b7cf956d3f52a62bcb5e1
describe
'798021' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPY' 'sip-files00149.jp2'
ebce3f26ea7f908869ffb16265781dc6
e60809aa8ee7c458190ca035339eba42749ac909
describe
'139930' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNPZ' 'sip-files00149.jpg'
41020ab879c2b8298ea8d483159ae0ca
d0e247d0fc87acd8b6e0c80d8255fafb725b5c29
describe
'105852' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQA' 'sip-files00149.pro'
d34bcb091b102104ef8658d48fda7895
1e3047de51930680299c264fd7fdb2c0123a660b
describe
'34681' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQB' 'sip-files00149.QC.jpg'
0bd32dd6b2862c3e6a72287783db071e
32693c15d3ed669c814fbf84a0598beb61f84e46
describe
'6398060' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQC' 'sip-files00149.tif'
afcf10d4e3fd274ffe1f7e6261e78117
a43c8c7ecd915c4b35d7f840b53dc659da8990b5
describe
'4325' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQD' 'sip-files00149.txt'
b7d0955c73d799ad718b6a546953eac6
edbfe7c4c610c62504cdee3e960bf98d361569c9
describe
'7597' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQE' 'sip-files00149thm.jpg'
bc0d53faec4b116517a4625d5e348d0a
ed43eac845d62f40a25f0cf6a28805e0c2fd7c81
describe
'776890' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQF' 'sip-files00150.jp2'
dfae67b26152df8dc4b2c9997d9eacff
254769a5ef606536326a05fe096ed5ecd25e901e
describe
'158502' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQG' 'sip-files00150.jpg'
9e2f04b7feac09e111a5cc26b10174f1
9a5088bccf895087529042d76add3a89a4f76321
describe
'114479' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQH' 'sip-files00150.pro'
c9e24e3a6404a5dac41b4d4df512f73c
ccb10eeb5dc2faa045279e0d10c9495a61030b84
describe
'39717' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQI' 'sip-files00150.QC.jpg'
6e7742cee256b6f31ae63bf27268fb01
f6a5a845a33886a146557dddbe931951e29857c0
describe
'6228960' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQJ' 'sip-files00150.tif'
f7b82da1f1e156ae258cb3937235080c
abb5977936ed02ab72f749efa01bb9290fc66839
describe
'4626' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQK' 'sip-files00150.txt'
dcaedf62eb731ca1c3c06dcd557c805a
454838edccfad53414848063f55f859d16c5dcb7
describe
'8629' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQL' 'sip-files00150thm.jpg'
a2e5569385d66dc37801048bca96c2bc
c5c60988142e0f4381c1c5e5fddf958be4c57ccb
describe
'747228' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQM' 'sip-files00151.jp2'
7ea9a01e39c90cd8fcd624441f242968
db6ececcce3389533d0aa02d024ab2f5ec054cb5
describe
'133817' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQN' 'sip-files00151.jpg'
fbd911267c9e89ebdeab5434e231faea
42650db490b1953c919ac96b27e47dfa8ba8c353
describe
'60617' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQO' 'sip-files00151.pro'
7f6307f6ed3680b95cb3f8c82f1dc988
86239570d0adcc75b1f394b5eb8be7c491b19404
describe
'37288' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQP' 'sip-files00151.QC.jpg'
e54049530de20befd4ce32ec823c8d7d
1540207db69069ba9cb6027e5dfcfd52569b4985
describe
'5991112' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQQ' 'sip-files00151.tif'
94a872c719ccf1cf79de654263a8d0ec
9f2b38434c85f3fbbb909352ca8a9d31aba53f0f
describe
'3025' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQR' 'sip-files00151.txt'
b0a4429417833d547f1e079f0a8c32cb
d649a60d0c02725f24e1279df8ff82df18dfdaef
describe
'8808' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQS' 'sip-files00151thm.jpg'
26a105eea013ae99524bb33eb44d7657
bf6ad24e53bf27ab1e5c6979512a3cca624c904a
describe
'798041' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQT' 'sip-files00152.jp2'
30e52359366fb4f470a1be57684ad8e6
f8839543a6f89106967671d23554bae744ea1ecc
describe
'129139' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQU' 'sip-files00152.jpg'
de802c1412070a48e52f032f0d201b0e
b45e769b2987cfe7ce96c7d5f2879dea8e56b9bb
describe
'9503' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQV' 'sip-files00152.pro'
fe0b2b019024de5a9e47980d4c25dba3
a53b911de275440802988115f5860e3320d37015
describe
'29663' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQW' 'sip-files00152.QC.jpg'
7d0bfbb9c94d779c58ac0456b03908bb
83ddb8d6be97259e60719f8bdb3a450465f987fc
describe
'6396832' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQX' 'sip-files00152.tif'
2b7609cdd6dd7e2dc2a5dcb1e12ff466
207d916494f3ed62f74511784962fe5f5e36d06a
describe
'531' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQY' 'sip-files00152.txt'
1d3a9cc865776c82cce67040ea015039
ad66187223e3adf421b4883e865b68b9391718c1
describe
Invalid character
'6897' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNQZ' 'sip-files00152thm.jpg'
5c9d54792bb380be0db8f7444f18b28c
5fab4df1f8922757d46c8e98d771d7ef519ca725
describe
'731389' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRA' 'sip-files00153.jp2'
c14966e69943171bf9566522a32b4b37
2fea74d5caa85fd7020dd1cee2bb43a73bc3889a
describe
'144453' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRB' 'sip-files00153.jpg'
14c9d9a14152cef30687b739f2b77768
ca078688b55b23b9235f9b0ecc699a4fdc323869
describe
'112068' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRC' 'sip-files00153.pro'
d3f90e3af341b7c006c6cf3bb253ba5e
06fecca9e2f90ccbb5ee6e3cd6f310f718d48d3b
describe
'37420' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRD' 'sip-files00153.QC.jpg'
fa872c4a5d42f06a2135c08b83d63c20
3772197a5a76856b369a676052b8159abb02d9a9
describe
'5864784' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRE' 'sip-files00153.tif'
eb824528828e8fa06a7153ba5975649a
57eaf88944e0d8f1dcbda1a9459c02af6ed85028
describe
'4704' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRF' 'sip-files00153.txt'
21128754aca6a3e9bea2e6fee08e5542
2ff8f93940571c86092f2ee23a7be8e61abf4ee4
describe
'8862' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRG' 'sip-files00153thm.jpg'
c3aab0ecaea1c4df88f61510f04eb809
268bad0acd44875f5c8df4713274fe6b8cc3c3d3
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRH' 'sip-files00154.jp2'
cd3d4edbe8557bbdc2222168ca930f4d
5634afbdbc38737aedd4bc6f9c3fd2e236ef7ed3
describe
'135740' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRI' 'sip-files00154.jpg'
1af8835da90f6d871b9138523c3239a0
bcce252c105d6953fa12db5ab30b4c08460a310d
describe
'102891' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRJ' 'sip-files00154.pro'
b42e5bcc1a1059c73c3910a924f65f23
ea378c3c2a6db1769b05a7b6c2772ab394b03766
describe
'34016' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRK' 'sip-files00154.QC.jpg'
d46b878677fe6623e32d2e38bb664a61
6c5cc0a08642b895508ec59d37e76fa09cf89ba9
describe
'6398180' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRL' 'sip-files00154.tif'
8fec882320a0fe662b7edf2caca9fae4
4f26775077ffa20c62823b3c425d2484ad1b9870
describe
'4189' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRM' 'sip-files00154.txt'
fee3e2726ec41dd29ce8a2715132b97c
801897e0797fb73595c79a2054cd74f0a120ed35
describe
'7678' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRN' 'sip-files00154thm.jpg'
8272e41e0e9b31239741ff57b33368f0
ad4ecc6d348b123257a41be23f3eeca56ec76979
describe
'751390' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRO' 'sip-files00155.jp2'
fd00e46a709560d16f4308668bd3e214
746e2581c36b1b466a123137fc20c1f1c1d47710
describe
'146707' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRP' 'sip-files00155.jpg'
13727b7f280f6c3b2714a470c0741a74
71ab88a6dc8837a49cacab8caa43aec7e2149d0a
describe
'103643' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRQ' 'sip-files00155.pro'
1f186c889722c814142e7f34948f6719
91a7c890bdbd63ab336aeaf0f5c6c3316102880b
describe
'37834' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRR' 'sip-files00155.QC.jpg'
65480f995eba92ebb7a01d5407dac964
7f19a77fb957e1926c2ecddc149682a6ca64c881
describe
'6024592' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRS' 'sip-files00155.tif'
cdf913dcf768f300debd4ee206471012
2aa5888455077a836af5d9c127b685d27076ea15
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRT' 'sip-files00155.txt'
7b07535f4bafd6b2c633d869e663b21c
9ffdc0df72a71f3e23d553e5dfd549005c8e76d7
describe
'8493' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRU' 'sip-files00155thm.jpg'
18fc120fc2cb544f39c96cdb1012f367
99e3de64c5a886470405d4891fca1daabe7d4657
describe
'758159' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRV' 'sip-files00156.jp2'
980c730e908b3c3dfad81f2dc45daa47
5a9ee74b139f3a8d34193b4fa825cb310d20bfc4
describe
'146428' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRW' 'sip-files00156.jpg'
f49b64e3e1e531673e0633ffa75a248b
55c26c3799bb72557206af4359599c39cc37ef78
describe
'107206' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRX' 'sip-files00156.pro'
79260e41e487376b47e259a6eced3a1a
799b19b8100d09c3214dddeca7e9851df994d039
describe
'36550' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRY' 'sip-files00156.QC.jpg'
52eac6bc6b000b3657f51b939b8d5c50
6211983032972aa7fc973365dee92f74d21ed771
describe
'6078748' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNRZ' 'sip-files00156.tif'
e0444bde40a94ae5e4d2a61e727ed809
97b80d14cda3f1769f633787b21253f0c2e71322
describe
'4396' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSA' 'sip-files00156.txt'
a39661623289d3efc7bdd9c2955c778e
4ebf7be9fbcded115671923619b30f6756ab8923
describe
'8255' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSB' 'sip-files00156thm.jpg'
1f46f34246db1fbd6b80023d06ae3278
4e703b92e09c1fdb38ebfb376fa1c60789e986a4
describe
'736596' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSC' 'sip-files00157.jp2'
c940cd95a278b60bc72d153b25b05048
ada77db716deec971517acc53d8ae1f1c4d0b731
describe
'158581' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSD' 'sip-files00157.jpg'
4d1a013c86e3099715acce1849331fe7
82ff2d75d81be22c642fe8f940738e0619237280
describe
'112981' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSE' 'sip-files00157.pro'
02c05b083deec5e43a034a83538eb75a
e914302bbc3bfb437bbb818449fd7890b493fa2b
describe
'40241' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSF' 'sip-files00157.QC.jpg'
280c180d2c5c46e08e50cc09a7963bad
799c6de43574f7c0693b5ab7336eade9379b72b0
describe
'5905868' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSG' 'sip-files00157.tif'
5e4e3f4f31ecdad6cb87ab443a444c0d
2ab213861cae76bd18165125165f9b6901e97e64
describe
'4643' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSH' 'sip-files00157.txt'
fe732382e5f165e1f34eed89db20c713
eca01e02f93ec967c8e7b3e2e6dee4568b807936
describe
'8941' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSI' 'sip-files00157thm.jpg'
62a1db4a47c3b7d9c2b4cb38419cb47a
a59cd93e1496f5bdf1ba71517f186767fea12975
describe
'742959' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSJ' 'sip-files00158.jp2'
3de186d7de91d8907d8bbc1068dcf051
7aa8ad6704ef87410d28db8aa15183bd93d58753
describe
'154891' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSK' 'sip-files00158.jpg'
49435c918c81ffb7c8ce121591793835
a90ff665f385b928497c5f2e46082ebcedcd2ffb
describe
'101035' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSL' 'sip-files00158.pro'
b1db7b2d2c8ae142484949cec4a13fc6
9b868f5b862553a41ef525f3cf68b0546feb8b54
describe
'39833' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSM' 'sip-files00158.QC.jpg'
3c8ff21534ec9d58b1349bbd18ebec49
4894da3654c14bef5fb638963f1c031b44583188
describe
'5957148' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSN' 'sip-files00158.tif'
f60ec78bd561241302c12d5f6ff50fb1
cf13391ff09264986e71ed0def10e6fad2536ee3
describe
'4223' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSO' 'sip-files00158.txt'
d3361578a3abe36622143b0b656806ed
bba33efdfd673840ac3a8bdaa2b95a98b7be95f5
describe
'9024' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSP' 'sip-files00158thm.jpg'
1db0c14adc7738f431ccb22bb9260cc0
289bdad956983f0f52a46a1d6c771d0b542b37de
describe
'757780' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSQ' 'sip-files00159.jp2'
3a4bd37a1e48b2fd116e4d25c22f84a3
71bdd8baff44785d68efa1372841112c976163f9
describe
'145958' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSR' 'sip-files00159.jpg'
20ceecf119d4b077e66fcc0be4856f00
9eab442f9966e4e8c770a016b9e65a44b0cac51c
describe
'101534' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSS' 'sip-files00159.pro'
aa0682bbf0f94e0950a18a4fb1c32d87
a153e0cb5f2d53969412d97b02ccc56b5e1602b3
describe
'37144' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNST' 'sip-files00159.QC.jpg'
06f5aad95becf81978f10ef17d81b784
5a50d20839adef68b3cbd9200913e7a29b0c91c1
describe
'6075800' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSU' 'sip-files00159.tif'
4c61ba14dbc7010d9e97d00f5f3a0614
2b2d52dfaed3176b7361f24144969c8f98de1304
describe
'4262' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSV' 'sip-files00159.txt'
fcbff91ecebb972315c833e689e0d881
35f46073d317d333c388e97bc5441178eb3d212c
describe
'8363' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSW' 'sip-files00159thm.jpg'
88b1151f7a8bdc32f7b4f684550e5f85
cd3faf2c4583d6435e5866dfa1c3fe8b633aecdf
describe
'721149' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSX' 'sip-files00160.jp2'
341b3f98f31970b4099b76fd2c23c248
c53c445b7bf0365e46f793af672a6ca1586e332b
describe
'173222' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSY' 'sip-files00160.jpg'
c0040f5cb3b94692ef094d3fc8ce2443
de72ec0cbc5764425db4c4c81098b8375a0f91ba
describe
'3660' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNSZ' 'sip-files00160.pro'
1903bee72687fa5b0bd34e4ae09733d7
daa3b9f303ccb45c55e9ce351517f719519a65fa
describe
'39275' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTA' 'sip-files00160.QC.jpg'
c3166232541af3234ab92e7bd5648e8b
146dbd1221433bcc63383dab23a56e8e038f3492
describe
'5792640' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTB' 'sip-files00160.tif'
b3ef59316e96f1dcd75612a6450f54b6
4a7a5f10815f10a0b90f1469b2b97a48c1ccd061
describe
'182' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTC' 'sip-files00160.txt'
35169c1a08b30232da3c4b93c9946a9d
8824b349555e5705a9b7dca50919986515cdf260
describe
Invalid character
'8613' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTD' 'sip-files00160thm.jpg'
8e682e1fdc56baac1c21de7d051b8e7c
ab385e5d50badc615bc2f1ca783b804f33478b10
describe
'718857' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTE' 'sip-files00161.jp2'
8f5a4e42c3c2856043896bd57a7c85a3
1fe140c5c994063a707ced9870f145ecdffa6a6a
describe
'150954' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTF' 'sip-files00161.jpg'
3f0afc62555e34f1ebf4409de9b53ed0
2c668ec2a1c5795100f846c420708f47f7ddf013
describe
'100809' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTG' 'sip-files00161.pro'
6bd4aa13efbe97ef8b41da37e7cec7fe
06335da4e964bfa8c84b8455313f8f4d20a71898
describe
'40092' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTH' 'sip-files00161.QC.jpg'
45503006344e4181286031bf9c8b04c9
87c767c4fde7fed794fd53ff134780aa2f7e3951
describe
'5764688' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTI' 'sip-files00161.tif'
c73bcb40f0a493b191b821dcd4a8d528
af744c588529d8d91b1f80c367ab523fab8ec3f3
describe
'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTJ' 'sip-files00161.txt'
534026c7d1fa4df2e18df45eeb77320a
8914448bfe1727e96b53f645a6db074ef0b57320
describe
'9082' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTK' 'sip-files00161thm.jpg'
0fc2cbb702ca5ac031ca8d8117b1b729
27f982568e9164b5202e727cba9920e12844811e
describe
'738720' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTL' 'sip-files00162.jp2'
006ca162f9613c3089634fe1f72d6c1d
26221e9c4e9f5b21d582de755c587be2f92feebd
describe
'151205' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTM' 'sip-files00162.jpg'
0665d634329a5ba75dc3a4847446f36e
ce2f07f78b8c1a6b9e395603d10fcc2a0318498f
describe
'98601' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTN' 'sip-files00162.pro'
3543b744b83680a9940ccd9280db96f0
b7d841694522c92cbfc124a599e6eb80854e48c2
describe
'40416' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTO' 'sip-files00162.QC.jpg'
778528fcb4acced6bc536884ab741e2a
cb352d53a3de98e6a526232a7508f3ba68856136
describe
'5923864' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTP' 'sip-files00162.tif'
57a58bca9b586880f01a517558a5d5e2
f63bc3be8147c1a9d0ec6e88b9e39f945d3cfb37
describe
'4111' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTQ' 'sip-files00162.txt'
b8d06e941bd14cd06271550fb2a9a4f8
dcfae443da9fe4077c9a29383825208b750acaa7
describe
'9348' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTR' 'sip-files00162thm.jpg'
20670cc17234e8981aff9e8f61c80b7e
298d6847da9fcf3c698f00a8f53de236cb31e8bb
describe
'738718' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTS' 'sip-files00163.jp2'
98c156075f5f37bd9a4c657f03ede39e
1f6251d0d397f4cee7a6de3b47f29e0bfd523683
describe
'154210' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTT' 'sip-files00163.jpg'
0e1bda6f76e453d70ee09aa57d400227
a0647773d97e772bd6008703e64e6b8fa0d29350
describe
'96320' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTU' 'sip-files00163.pro'
9420e0fb94d2602d13db69e7e882a6ad
9fbdb1ccf2a6e0d43566a0b1a51ef3551ad4d637
describe
'41936' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTV' 'sip-files00163.QC.jpg'
a0daf44965c8e0c3567e3f0a8476fecf
2ef71e0ff6075c2f678219698f6ea84be9f234f6
describe
'5924164' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTW' 'sip-files00163.tif'
7b698090b6e2d39133f12503549e7a2b
1b2dabbc656dd49476591f4df27a44bb8a5e27c3
describe
'3944' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTX' 'sip-files00163.txt'
6afaee44c9b9e5cfb07dae4a6627a377
83b8c7b79a43a6b4c7c8014ade65a83fa64b19a4
describe
'9688' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTY' 'sip-files00163thm.jpg'
24bf926601157c16525cb208b43123ca
c5b99a5fcccc2a7c801bd015ebe2e7c378abe4af
describe
'747123' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNTZ' 'sip-files00164.jp2'
c1e3f0fea7cedc7637abaa9b3cc112bb
5bb89e15569e724705c1c3a4525e9e34a2f47334
describe
'157031' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUA' 'sip-files00164.jpg'
97c430ce371f0786ffd2e7cbe4bf783d
fa065e23a9dbb62a6f95c97c1157467f42319361
describe
'55849' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUB' 'sip-files00164.pro'
92926e5170a48a6fbf774beecbe65458
a4eb4670f240ec81a1dbcc69b5e2b400cabf74c0
describe
'40784' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUC' 'sip-files00164.QC.jpg'
3356091eb99cbc7cb52f4f21a54386e1
c45bfcb2d1deb016cd306245737e7918afdbdf23
describe
'5992116' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUD' 'sip-files00164.tif'
1a4d1ca355501adcd670a96dfcfb4b07
315ac88c227d854fc3fcdf2b7e4518dd09d4c27b
describe
'2322' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUE' 'sip-files00164.txt'
e282e1a89b90f9bfa7aa762eca67b5cd
b2303d3206222431114b4e00928b63e5cc157d67
describe
'9696' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUF' 'sip-files00164thm.jpg'
b50500d1383cb3bdbcc4aa71102e6362
639a9809ba76f28435793ed8f10f4c48fce9cdc0
describe
'753544' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUG' 'sip-files00165.jp2'
053106d168c6c00c96ed5c83d817d480
f4663a3344a2b28663e9d534a21e251107d266e7
describe
'149687' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUH' 'sip-files00165.jpg'
a7224d476ccfa30bec47ed00e93af709
a8491118ce780b0027afa51aae037701700d8271
describe
'99765' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUI' 'sip-files00165.pro'
f0a0f37a32d9e83b1e816aa7467da467
4b52e882160933f9390b2b85c142388b7b3182cc
describe
'38302' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUJ' 'sip-files00165.QC.jpg'
88e4fb6a0b0a974d2dfe058a5bd38c43
6d7a0d462327652d54390d30ef845e6cef24dc35
describe
'6042420' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUK' 'sip-files00165.tif'
a28f0614cfb8e3dadc1e2461388bd72a
e229d99f2d1376b6e373cd910c3f27f223a4dba5
describe
'4186' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUL' 'sip-files00165.txt'
e43cc6304d724397a139e1a8dce2d2bb
dbd1f661f136697b9e8648a4112580b7fb4a2ff0
describe
'9118' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUM' 'sip-files00165thm.jpg'
acd2a63583bbfca178a15f330d63b8ed
8f1c7496b13833bb25e5fcc14fee4879a5cf494c
describe
'751472' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUN' 'sip-files00167.jp2'
5984ae559a0776814dcce57fa557fcfd
e3628d8a79fd517e605896df318de6d11438315c
describe
'123254' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUO' 'sip-files00167.jpg'
61ff37400e03e2881a0faf9f753a927c
145e66e90fb684aed847b9cf17b9c2d4d6dd1a0c
describe
'107209' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUP' 'sip-files00167.pro'
5f6de336f1bcb4cee35722ae112c1be2
9cd5267823daf73397bd07d38b169db67e4f0dd9
describe
'34257' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUQ' 'sip-files00167.QC.jpg'
714eac8eb7c751bbd450bc0b15236adc
722df77dc9c81fe92e61b80dd614b0dd6dc6bf86
describe
'6025380' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUR' 'sip-files00167.tif'
d3e5d37f2f4b745982700f4e8b492235
c558926d593edc8817a0877cf1f001895955afe1
describe
'4449' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUS' 'sip-files00167.txt'
ebbc1064723be55399c33502ed9d52ec
e550e64ac29f61fa9204a67746ec38b23c05decf
describe
'8818' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUT' 'sip-files00167thm.jpg'
57ecc40bf3298b57043872fd4df5e11f
4ecd26a0356e51d7c1d74603f3b52a4b4d7955c5
describe
'842526' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUU' 'sip-files00170.jp2'
c6b2450de861c9f5b1f1e01f24eedc7c
926299532c43f81a24423b24f619e848c453a6eb
describe
'150013' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUV' 'sip-files00170.jpg'
c95b20955635b104aca5e5e9e08f9d0b
c7dc7956158d05ecca36b726ddf81afe363d3481
describe
'144834' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUW' 'sip-files00170.pro'
acbb4b63254e3fbe3eafcabf9f93f417
66cf7dc7fca9085bd0e6e3879f7617ef9816cada
describe
'35430' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUX' 'sip-files00170.QC.jpg'
514106ffeed118cde27d237d6a745e96
4c1ef30c799261f701b8e45b56bc1d2df6b6010e
describe
'20228468' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUY' 'sip-files00170.tif'
45a06ef6d4c23d0db646acc80d076167
b07e3c884aa2a2bdca74af56a6485f3a7c3179b1
describe
'6149' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNUZ' 'sip-files00170.txt'
7850ff199043d78dccf6d791541c50dd
f1e715aae7d254859508f4178978d20a13ef10c4
describe
Invalid character
'8274' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNVA' 'sip-files00170thm.jpg'
50d74a036911fd507992ffe1f4c3ab7e
d127d573382d798931ef2efc2ec5625de4560333
describe
'865553' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNVB' 'sip-files00171.jp2'
e653997d39ec5714f92b9c6dda3bfedc
bccd456fa69d7a5b877194c431803f5472659ecc
describe
'162087' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNVC' 'sip-files00171.jpg'
8dc959e4ddfd9e05c9effbd665fabff2
6cfd5153423819b3b798279905b9cc8196d25565
describe
'38036' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNVD' 'sip-files00171.QC.jpg'
95935127a8100859de6e9e1a3fbe3213
8223071221b453a1f4fabd63fdfed70f3512c312
describe
'20796440' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNVE' 'sip-files00171.tif'
c21f796a26a9511cca990282dea9c5dc
30dafdafc03c127e97fca28c0b7488055a7f9fde
describe
'9544' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNVF' 'sip-files00171thm.jpg'
d3921be4c151ddee96ae38effb25dca6
cb666b71160670d362bca263ae53fa41013afd32
describe
'16' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNVG' 'sip-filesprocessing.instr'
0ba243f85c198e812c2c8b0a1cc0ed5a
a2bde15bb1654a2e352e0a609af38b3083b5e705
describe
'287152' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNVH' 'sip-filesUF00081957_00001.mets'
ea42a719ef8519ab15d3f199d89b87b2
61b7dfbd5daa7cbd585f1745646af0eb20df0175
describe
TargetNamespace.1: Expecting namespace 'http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/digital/metadata/ufdc2/', but the target namespace of the schema document is 'http://digital.uflib.ufl.edu/metadata/ufdc2/'.
'2013-12-18T05:35:47-05:00' 'mixed'
xml resolution
http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/digital/metadata/ufdc2/ufdc2.xsdhttp://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema
BROKEN_LINK http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/digital/metadata/ufdc2/ufdc2.xsd
http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema
The element type "div" must be terminated by the matching end-tag "
".
TargetNamespace.1: Expecting namespace 'http://www.uflib.ufl.edu/digital/metadata/ufdc2/', but the target namespace of the schema document is 'http://digital.uflib.ufl.edu/metadata/ufdc2/'.
'368338' 'info:fdaE20080515_AAAAFNfileF20080518_AABNVK' 'sip-filesUF00081957_00001.xml'
78204ad026d53d5576be92efcd08a00a
6a34e39fb48e4a40ed719b6ebaf85e57a7f24e36
describe
'2013-12-18T05:35:50-05:00'
xml resolution




ea!

re
3
o
a
a
EI
x
o
<
to
o
&




















SOUND O



THE PANSY BOOKS

There aré more than a hundred “ Pansy Books,’ mostly by Pansy herself, a few by one or two helpers, a very
Jew by others altogether. They constitute the very highest class of Sunday-school and family literature.

There are substantial reasons for the great popularity of the “ Pansy Books,” and foremost among these is their truth
to nature and to life. The genuineness of the types of character which they portray is indeed remarkable; their heroes
bring us face to face with every phase of home life, and present graphic and inspiring pictures of the actual struggles
through which victorious souls must go.

‘Her stories move alternately to laughter and tears.” . . . Brimful of the sweetness of evangelical religion.”

. ... “Influence cannot fail to be beneficent.” . . . “Girl life and character portrayed with rare powers” ee
‘“‘ Impressive and fascinating.” 7 “ 4 wondrous freshness and vitality appearing on every page.” . . . “The
cause of temperance is sustained with rare power, tact and interest.” . . . “The value and happiness of trusting in
God happily exemplified.” . . . “Nothing for the young surpasses this collection.” . . . “Yoo much cannot be
said of the insight given into the trué way of studying and using the word of God.”

These are a few quotations from words of praise everywhere spoken.

ESTER RIED SERIES. The following cannot well be classified. They are adapted to
various ages in the family circle; always in demand

in orde: her ntioned. ‘ :
To be read vder as here mentioned. at the libraries.

r. Ester Ried. The first book of a series of religious stories

unequalled in popularity. 1.50. Miss Dee Dunmore Bryant. 1.50.
Julia Ried. _ 1.50. Aunt Hannah and Martha and John. 1.50.
The King’s Daughter. 1.50. A Modern Exodus. 1.50.
. Wise and Otherwise. 1.50. Interrupted. 1.50.
The Randolphs. 1.50. From Different Standpoints. 1.50.
Ester Ried Yet Speaking. 1.50. Modern Prophets. 1.50.
An Endless Chain. 1.50. A New Graft on the Family Tree. 1.50.
THE CHAUTAUQUA GIRLS SERIES. oe SOU aoe Ee ones:
Intensely vivid pictures of the soul-growth of four girls dis- One Commonplace Day. 1.50. : ;
tinctly individual, but all spiritually akin. The Pocket Measure, 1.50.
1. Four Girls at Chautauqua. 1.50. The Hall in the Grove. 1.50.
z. Chautauqua Girls at Home. 1.50. Eighty-Seven. 1.50.
3. Ruth Erskine’s Crosses. 1. 50. Divers Women. | 1.50.
4. Judge Burnham’s Daughters. 1.50. Lae Rebecces Life. 1.50.
No books for boys have wielded a wider influence for good Bey Sevenfold Trouble. I-50.
than the following. Christie’s Christmas. 1.50.
Tip Lewis and His Lamp. 1.50. Chrissy’s Endeavor. 1.50.
Those Boys. 1.50. Echoing and Re-echoing. 1.50.
Little Fishers and their Nets. 1.50. Cunning Workmen, 1.25.
The Man of the House. 1.50. : Dr. Deane’s Way. 1.25.
Sidney Martin’s Christmas. 1.50. Mrs. Deane’s Way. 1.25.
Three People. 1.50. Grandes Davinee sore2h
; 2 : 5 oe fiss Priscilla Hunter. 1.25.
Choice Mustrated Libraries for Children. What She Said. 1.25.
Pansy’s Half Hour Library. 8 vols., quarto, boards, 30 At Home and Abroad. 1.00,
cents each. Bobby’s Wolf and Other Stories. 1.00.
Pansy’s Boys and Girls Library. 12 vols., quarto, boards, Five Friends. ‘1.00.
25 cents each. : In the Woods and Out. 1.00.
The Pansy Intermediate Library. to vols., 4.50 net. Mrs. Harry Harper’s Awakening. — 1.00.
The Pansy Primary Library.. No.1. 30 vols., 7.50 net. New Year’s Tangles. 1.00.
The Pansy Primary Library. No. 2. 20 vols., 5.00 net. Next Things. 1.00.
The Pansy Primary Library. No. 3. 24 vols., 6.00 net. Pansy’s Scrap Book for Teachers. _ 1.00.
; Some Young Heroines. 1.00. .
; Ltlustrated quartos, edited by Pansy. Voung Pale Worth Knowing. 1.00,
Pansy’s Picture Book. Cloth, 2.00; boards, 1.50. Bernie’s White Chicken. .75.
-Pansy’s Story Book. Cloth, 1.75; boards, 1.25. Couldn’t be Bought. .75. ;
Pansy’s Sunday Book. Colored frontispiece. Boards, 1.25. Stories from the Life of Jesus. .75.
PINE Tea Om OU CHae: Mae Burton Abroad. .75. Two Boys. .75-
ocia’s Journal. .75.
Selected from Pansy’s writings by Grace Livingston. Getting Ahead. .75. Helen Lester. .75.
16mo, cloth, .75; morocco, 2.00. fi Jessie Wells. .75. Monteagle. .75.
“Mrs. Alden’s writings are so pure, earnest, and helpful Six Little Girls. .75. That Boy Bob. .75.—
that a daily absorption of her pithiest thoughts must prove Pansies. .75. We Twelve Girls. .50.
an enriching process.” — WV. Y. Witness. Her Mother’s Bible. 50.

“ Pansy is one of our most delightful story-tellers. Each page imparts, along with entertainment, moral and spiritual
profit.” — Cumberland Presbyterian, Nashville, Tenn. e

“ Quick of thought and sight, impatient of sham, tenderly loyal to real goodness, Mrs. Alden ‘finds her way into all —
young hearts and many old ones.’’? — Advance, Chicago. Z :

D. LOTHROP COMPANY, Publishers, Bosto~ 7

University} |
| RmB vik |
oe Florida


ifs



sada /



Sa









tet























The waysu. asing baby are numherless; but the -

best of them all is the old one—mother-talk. |

‘What shall she talk about? The pictures and stories
of Babyland. Look at these pictures: for instance.
They have got to be explained, of course; but that is
what they are for, to give the mother something te
talk about.

But, remember, baby hasn’t got used to the pace of
this quick world. Give him time. He couldn’t find

out for himself what a story there is in one of thess ~

simple pictures. There is the mother cat in her rock:

ing-chair with her steaming cup of tea and the kittens

playing blind-fold. How happy they are?
Send five cents to D. Lothz


for a copy of Babyland.


do LN Spay,
Swanney ]

the

WAY

wach


YOUNG FOLKS AT HOME

STORIES LOR YOUNG READERS

EDITED BY

MRS. G. R. ALDEN (“PANSY”)

<=



FULLY ILLUSTRATED

BOSTON
D LOTHROP COMPANY

WASHINGTON STREET OPPOSITE BROMFIELD
CopyricHr, 1892,
BY

D. LorHrop ComMPANyY.

pe
MYRTLE’S

“APRIL FOOL.”





MYRTLE’S “APRIL FOOL.”





Bf was a very handsome “ grown-up”
ye bonnet, and I suppose Myrtle had no
(Se idea how queer. she looked init. The
7 fact is, I believe she thought herself ir-
resistible when she had perched it nicely” on
the back of her “ banged” head, and with her

dress gracefully lifted in one chubby hand, and




very sad. I’m afraid I have none to spare ; the
truth is, we have a large family, and my little
girl especially is so fond of pot pie that T have
to save it for her.”

“Well,” said Myrtle, putting on her most
winning smile, “if you cannot spare any pot
pie perhaps I could borrow me a few straw-
berries; I’m sure I saw a boy bring some to
your house ; I’m very fond of strawberries, and

































































































































































































































THE LONG-HAIRED GIRL.

a bouquet of spring flowers in the other, came
to call on mamma. ;

“Tm Mrs. Delexity,” she said, with a pretty
bow, as mamma answered her knock at the sit-
ting-room door. “I’ve just moved into the
house across the way, and I thought I’d call and
bring you some flowers and ask if you had a
little pot pie you could spare me for dinner.
Tm all out of pot pie.”

“Are you, indeed?” said mamma, “that is

I haven’t had any in most forty-two years.”

“Isit possible? That certainly is hard; but
here again my little girl isin the way. She is so
extremely fond of strawberries that when they
first begin to come in the spring it is very hard
to get enough to satisfy her.”

Mrs. Delexity looked grave. It began to
seem to her that her neighbor’s little girl was
something of a nuisance.

“Don’t you think,” she said, after a thought-
MYRTLE’S

“APRIL FOOL.”





ful pause, “that your little girl ought to be
brought up to think of the poor and needy?”

Mamma stooped over her work basket sud-
denly to hide a laugh, then she said: “I think
so, certainly; but that is a very hard lesson to
teach little girls. My little daughter doesn’t un-
derstand these things very well. Last night she
actually cried because she was asked to share
her milk with Mrs. Gray’s baby.”

Then there was silence for as much as two
minutes, after which the caller looked up
with her own winning smile.

“ Mamma,” she said, “I’m not Mrs. Delexity,
I’m your own little girl. Itis just an April fool,
you know; and I think I cried last night be-
cause I was sleepy. I don’t mean to cry any
more; the baby may have all my milk to-night
— every drop, and some strawberries, too.”

“That is my own unselfish little girl,” said
mamma. “TI like her better than Mrs. Delexity
a great deal.”

“Well, mamma, tell me truly and surely,
were you just a little bit fooled? Because it is
April fool to-morrow, you know, and I want to
know how.”

“Tt was a lovely April fool,” said mamma;
“ the very prettiest one J eversaw in my life. If
all of them were as swest and as harmless I
should not have so much reason to dislike and
dread them as I do.” Thesentence closed with
along-drawn sigh ; Mrs. Markham had forgotten
she was speaking to her wee daughter, and had
become what Myrtle called “grown up” before
she finished her remark.

The boys understood it, though, and won-
dered over the sigh. These were her two
nephews, who with their mother were on a visit
at Aunt Laura’s, and were at this moment at
work in the little play room which opened from
the sitting-room, getting ready a contrivance
which they meant to use next day. Just before
Mrs. Delexity’s arrival, Whiting had said to
Andy, “If this rig I’m fixing for myself doesn’t
scare her, nothing will.”

“T don’t believe it begins with mine,” laughed
Andy. Then they had stopped to listen and to
gigele over “Mrs. Delexity.”

That last sentence, however, sounded like a
story, and by common consent both boys ap-
peared in a few minutes to get it if they could.

“Aunt Laura, do you truly dislike April
fools? What makes you?”

“T have good reason to,” Aunt Laura said,
smiling ou them, but growing grave almost im-
mediately. Then, after amoment’s silence: “I
believe Dll tell you two boys a little story. I
don’t tell it often. I had a beautiful brother,
once, about your age, Whiting, ora little older;
the handsomest boy, I think, I ever saw, and cer-
tainly one of the best; so cheery, he was, and
unselfish and thoughtful for others. We lived
two miles from town, and brother Will used to
go back and forth on horseback. He hada pony
of his own, a gentle, well-trained creature whom
we thought was not afraid of anything. But
one day, on the first of April, all the boys in
school had been wild to play tricks on one an-
other, and on everybody whom they could
catch. Will never played April fool tricks.
He seemed above them. He was good-natured
about it, and would laugh when there was any-
thing really funny, but they hardly ever caught
him; he was too sharp for them. It seems they
were determined to make him their victim if
possible, so they planned that when he rode
home just at dusk — he always went for the mail
at that time — half a dozen of them were going
to dress up as highway robbers and rush out at
him from a bit of wood through which he had
to pass, and demand his pocketbook. They
carried out their plan, so far as to rusb out and
call to him in gruff voices. He was not in the
least frightened. He knew them at once, and
called the leader by name; but poor Tony the
horse was not so wise. It was very dim twilight
and something about their shadows frightened
him; we shall never know what; he acted as
he never had before, reared and plunged, and
finally threw Will off. We struck his back
against a large stone at the side of the path.
That was the last ride my beautiful strong
young brother ever took! He lived three long
hard years, in great pain, unable to sit up in
bed; his back was hurt by the stone. And
when he was only seventeen years old he died.
My only brother.”

“TIumph!” said Andy, in a hoarse voice,
after a long stiliness, “that was as mean as
dirt.”

Aunt Laura brushed a tear from her cheek
MYRTLE'S “APRIL FOOL.”

















































































































































































































































































































































MRS, DELEXITY.
MYRTLE’S

“APRIL FOOL.”—RESURRECTION.





and smiled on him: “ They didn’t intend to be
mean, Andy; they all liked him. They were
only April fooling.”

The boys went back presently to their work,
and were still for several minutes; then Andy
said :

“ Say, Whiting, don’t let’s.”

“ All right,” said Whiting promptly, “say
we don’t.”

“ You see,” said Andy, “her pony may scare,
after all, if it does look like an old sheep; and
if she is queer-looking and long-haired, and all
that, she might get hurt all the same; and we'd
never want to hold up our heads again, Whiting
Stuart, if anything should come of it. She
don’t look any queerer than her brother Jake
does, and maybe he doesn’t know how to saddle
a horse and she might tumble off. Think of
Aunt Laura’s brother Will!”

“T’m agreed to give it up,” said Whiting
with decision. “Let the long-haired girl ride
her sleepy little nag in peace, for all I shall
trouble her. I say, Andy, wasn’t it queer that
the story should have been about a pony and a
scare, and April fool, and all?”

“Queer as sixty,” said Andy. Pansy.

POEM FOR EASTER RECITATION, |
RESURRECTION.

OLD is the midnight air ;
Judea’s vine-clad heights in silence lie,
And dark, you rugged cliffs their shadows fling
Across the olive glens in softness veiled,
Beneath the silver beams of the pale moon.

But hark! there is a sound!
dares

Intrude on spot so sacred? Who disturb

The quiet of the grave? A grave that could

Alone afford repose to Him chase life

Had been one lasting tempest of rebuke,

And scorn, and bitterness, and blackest hate !

What omteis

Who dares approach?
friend

Whose agony and love scorns all restraint,

And at the noon of night, seeks the lone tomb.

Unless some priceless

Is it the noiseless step — the smothered sigh
Of holy friendship, seeking ev’n in death

To hold communion with the loved and lost?
No; ’tis the martial clank of steel-clad men,
The measured tread of Roman sentinels,
Who sullen pace the private garden paths,
And watch the tomb of Jesus.

Wherefore thus?

Does Death not hold secure enough his
prey? 7

Make all secure! Let rocks be sealed,

And men of war be placed at every avenue,

With lance and sword, to guard the still domain.

O earth and heaven !
shakes

The adamantine pillars that have reared

Their dark volcanic heaps against the sky,

So many ages! See, the rocks are rent!

And opening wide, disclose their secret depths.

And mighty thunderings awake this peaceful
dawn.

What dread convulsion

Ye men of blood and valor, who have stood

Unblanched on battle-fields,

Why stand ye thus, with terror-stricken ON

And rolling eye?

The white-robed messengers OE heaven’s high
Ising

Are hovering o’er your heads!

_ now,

Within that sepulchre, is going on—— a mystery.

No human hand may feel the first warm throb

That stirs beneath the shroud.

No eye may view the mantling bloom of re-
awakened life, —

But now — he lives!

And near you

Mrrcur.t.
From Foster's Cyclopedia.

Wuen men do anything for God, the very
least thing, they never know where it will end,
nor what amount of work it will do for him.
Love’s secret, therefore, is to be always doing
things for God, and not to mind because they
are such very little ones. ‘Cast thy bread
upon the running waters, for after a long time
thou shalt find it again.” — Selected.
Steg 2 re me

BESSIE CARPENTER’S NEIGHBOR.





BE ete CARPENTER’S NEIGHBOR.




er was ever ashamed of anybody in my
life I am of you!” This was Bessie’s
remark to her dog Guard as she stood
him up in her lap on his hind feet after
having given him some hearty shakes by way of
punishment.

“The idea of your chasing poor Toby all
over the grounds, when she is so fat she can
scarcely run, too; and barking at her until she
did not know whether she was a cat, or just a
bundle of scare. What if she did put up her
back and spit at you? Asif that could hurt a
great handsome dog like you to be spit at by a
poor little old cat! Isay, sir, J am ashamed of
you. As carefully as you have been brought
up! What isthe use of teaching you anything?
Don’t. you know that Toby is your neighbor,
and that you ought to love her as well as you
do yourself ?

« Didn’t I try my best to explain that to you
only yesterday? And didn’t you bark three
times, which everybody knows means Yes in
your language, when I asked if you understood ?
And here the very next day you go and dis-
grace yourself. That isn’t the worst of it;
you have disgraced me, too. You belong to
me, sir, and you can’t go around doing mean
things without disgracing me. Pm ashamed to
look Mrs. Parkhurst in the face, now, because
she knows that my dog Guard has been chasing
her ugly yellow cat.” :

Guard looked the picture of dignified sullen-
ness, refused to bark or to wag his tail, or do
anything but shake himself and try to get away.
His mistress put him down, presently, smiling
and sighing almost in the same breath.

“Poor fellow! you are only adog. Whata
pity it seems, when you know so much. Never
mind, Guard; you are not to blame for not un-
derstanding the Golden Rule. It isn’t for you to
practice on, I suppose — that’s one comfort —
or you would have been given brains enough to
understand it. But you will have to be taught
by the hardest, not to chase Mrs. Parkhurst’s
cat. I won’t have that, anyway. You will
have to be whipped, Guard, if you do it again.
Do you understand that?”

She shook her finger at him with a mixture of

playfulness and warning, brushed one or two of
his curly hairs from her apron and ran away to ©
finish her dusting.

A very pretty girl was Bessie Carpenter. A
general favorite among the girls and boys of
her set. A leader among them, in fact. On
this particular morning she was unusually happy,
even for her. In two days more she would be
thirteen; and among other delights which she
was sure that day would bring, she was to have
a party. Not avery large one; just the girls
and boys who belonged to her classes in school
and at Sunday-school; but her mother had
made very choice preparations for them, and
Bessie suspected a beautiful secret was being
planned, which had to do with two large car-
riages and double spans of horses. Her father
had just hinted at something of the sort;
enough to give him a chance to laugh at the
glow on her cheek and the sparkle in her eyes.

Bessie did not understand the secret fully,
but she felt almost certain there was one, and
she could trust her father. .

While she went about with her gay-colored
feather duster, filliping little flecks of dust here
and there, she moralized a little on the differ-
ence between her and Guard.

“Ts it really harder for a dog to do right than
it is for people,” she said, “ because he doesn’t
understand? Now if I could only make him
learn just that little rule about loving his neigh-
bor ag himself, how easy it would be for him to
see why he mustn’t chase Toby, hateful old cat .
though she is. It is a nice rule, I think; it
makes everything so plain. And it is easy
enough so far as I can see.”

Her thoughts went out to the neighbors on
either side of her. There was Alice Parkhurst,
her dear friend and constant companion. They
had but one point of difference; Bessie could
never understand how Alice could fondle that
great fat yellow cat, even kiss her, and seem to
care so little for Guard! But she never said
anything about it to Alice. Then there was
Ned Parkhurst, Alice’s brother; everybody
liked him; he was just a splendid boy. Across
the street lived dear old Mrs. Burnham and her
lovely married daughter with her sweet baby.
« All of them just as lovely as they can be!”
said Bessie with emphasis. “I’m sure there is
BESSIE CARPENTER’S NEIGHBOR.





no trouble in liking them just exactly as well as
we do ourselves. And as for the Harts who
live on the other side, they are never at home,
and I don’t know them very well, but I like
them well enough ; I should like them very much
indeed, I think, if I knew them.”

By this time she was at the gate, her pretty
work apron laid aside, her wavy hair pushed
back inside her broad sun hat, and, basket in
hand, on her way to the post-officé for her
father’s morning mail. This was one of her
morning duties. Bessie’s face was sunny still;
she liked all her morning duties; she liked her
world very much. She nodded politely to Mrs.
Burnham’s daughter across the way, and threw
a kiss to the baby who was held up for her
to sce, and thought once more how “nice”
their neighbors all were. Suddenly, with ‘the
lock of the gate still clicking behind her, Bessie
came to a halt; a look of surprise, almost of
dismay, coming into her face.

There was the girl who lived at the Harts
standing at the gate this minute; the girl with
the freckled face and homely nose, who always
wore calico dresses even to church. The girl
who worked for her board and went to school;
and who had no home, and no brothers and
sisters, and the Harts had taken her to stay at
their house because she was the daughter of an
old housekeeper of theirs and they felt sorry
for her.

All this Bessie had known for months; but
the thought which came to her new this morn-
ing and almost overwhelmed her was, that this
freckled-face girl was her neighbor!

“It’s all the home she has,” thought Bessie,
‘and she lives exactly next door to us; there’s
no getting around that. To be sure she never
goes in our set, but neither does Toby Park-
hurst go in Guard’s set ; she can’t get a chance,
poor old cat”—with a little laugh over the
thought of how she would be treated if she at-
tempted it — “perhaps that is the reason Jane
Austen never comes with us. What if I
should! Bessie Carpenter, what if you really
should!”

The overwhelming thought which had
brought the little line of wrinkles out on Bessie’s
forehead was, “ What if I should ask Jane
Austen to my birthday party!” That would

be a surprise to the others, certainly. Could
she doit? Ought she? There was a sudden
dash at last for the post-office, a very rapid
home-coming, and an almost breathless young
woman rushed upstairs to her mother. Such
a great thought as this demanded immediate
sharing.

An hour afterwards she opened the sash of
her French window, stepped out on her piazza,
and called, “ Alice!”

There was an instant raising of the sash
across the lawn and Alice’s curly yellow head
looked out of the window. She had Toby in
her arms.

“Pve got something to tell you. I’m going
to invite Jane Austen to my birthday party.”

“Why-ee! Bessie Carpenter, you’re not, are
you?”

“Yes, I am, truly. I thought about it, and
I’ve been talking with mamma about it, and I’ve
decided to do it.”

“Well, sure enough, why not?” demanded
Alice, after a thoughtful pause. “ She’ll like it,
of course; and the poor thing looks dreadfully
lonesome. Let’s ask her to join our society and
go to things with the others. Why not?”

“Tm sure I don’t know. We ought to, you
see. She’s our neighbor, Alice Parkhurst.
Don’t you remember last Sunday’s talk in the
class?”

“Y-e-s,” said Alice recollectively, ‘so she is.
Well, I would, if I were you; and I will.
Bessie, only look at Toby’s foot where she hurt
it this morning running from Guard. I wish
you could teach Guard to love his neighbors.”

“So do I,” laughed Bessie. “But, you see,
he’s only a dog.” Pansy.

Iv is stated that President Harrison, when
the arrangements had been made for his inau-
gural train to start on Saturday, refused to start
at that time, as that would necessitate his trav-
cling on the Sabbath, to which he objected.
“Tf thou tun away thy foot from the Sabbath
from doing thy pleasure on my holy day; and
call the Sabbath a delight, the holy of the Lord,
honorable ; then I will cause thee to ride upon
the high places of the earth, and feed thee with
the heritage of Jacob thy father.”


(



























































































































































































































































WHEN GRANDMOTHER WAS A LITTLE GIRL.


JOHNNY.





JOHNNY.

By
T was a very pretty room, that one where
Johnny lived. The walls were covered
with cheerful paper; there were a few
bright pictures ; the pretty crib- bedstead
that belonged to Johnny, was made up in spot-
less white, and everything everywhere was as
neat and sweet as thoughtful hands could
make it.

Johnny lived in a great big house —oh!
ever so much larger than your home. There
were wide long halls reaching from one end of
the great house to the other ; there were rooms,
and rooms, and rooms! Some of them very
large, and some small and cosey. There were
beautiful green lawns stretching out from the
broad piazzas, and grand old trees with seats
under them for tired people, and, under one, a
carpet spread, on which some merry babies
tumbled, and kicked and crowed.

A lovely home was this for Johnny, and
everybody was kind to him, yet you would not
have liked to change places with him. Let me
tell you why?

The name of Johnny’s home was “ Hospital.”
A blessed place for the poor sick homeless chil-
dren; thank God for the grand men and women
who thought of it, and planned it. Still one’s
own little home is of course a hundred times
better, if only one has a home; Johnny hadn't,
until he was brought to this.

Another reason is, the woman who bends
over Johnny when his back aches, and his head
aches, and soothes and comforts him, is named
Nurse. A warm-hearted, pleasant-faced, kind-
voiced woman —God bless her!—still one’s
own dear mother would of course be many
times better, when one’s head ached; only
Johnny had no mother.

Still another reason. That poor back of
Johnny’s is not like yours. It often aches. It
has been hurt. ‘The nurse and the doctor hope
he will be well sometime, so he can walk out
in the pleasant yard with the help of crutches;
but they are not sure even of that. They
know he will never walk without them.

How came Johnny here?

One morning, the matron of the hospital and
the nurse of this ward looked at one another

i

sadly and shook their heads.
turned to the doctor and spoke:
nished room is full, Doctor. It is too bad! Pm
so sorry for the poor little fellow; it seems as
though he ought to come in. His mother dead,
and his father drunk, most of the time. Dear,
dear! But we can’t help it. We have rooms,
but not a bit of furniture or bedding, or any-
thing to put in them, and no money to spare
this month. It is very hard.”

Something happened that very afternoon..

Then the matron °
“Every fur-

A letter came, saying the Pansy Society of |



have raised fifty dollars with which to
furnish another room in the hospital.
want some poor sick child put into it as soon
as possible. .

“That he shall be, poor little fellow!” said
the matron, when she heard the news, and she.

and the doctor looked at one another, and
smiled.
brought from oh! such a desolate place, to this.

home, and this sweet clean room, and this soft..

bed.
Something else happened.

dressed to the matron, lay on top. It read:
“The Pansy Society of

the sick little children in the hospital.



Will

the matron please distribute the books and toys’

as she thinks best?”

You may be sure some of them came to-

Johnny.
before, in his life!

He had never owned a picture book

They were both very happy.

So were the members ‘of the Pansy Society
who had sent the box.
of that other Pansy Society who had sent the
money to furnish Johnny’s room.

A great many Pansies are ‘doing such work.
in the world. It is beautiful work. Pansy.

Tur truest confession of love to God ig
made by deeds of love to God done to our
fellow-men in his name.

They '

Two days afterwards, Johnny was.

One day there’
came a box from the freight office, which, when
opened, proved to be filled with nice things...
Books, and toys, and cards, and dollies, all ee
good order, and neatly packed. A letter ad-

send this box for’

One of the children who.
was almost well, came in from her play to help:
Johnny look at the pictures, and enjoy his book.

So were the members.




A PRACTICAL

—

A PRACTICAL APPLICATION,



ESAT had been a very busy morning.
Laura and Minnie had been hard
at work over their lessons, getting
ready for the summer examinations.
Moreover, there was a musical “ Re-

tising was required to getreadyfor it. All this
made them feel more hurried and nervous than
usual; but they reached the middle of the after-
noon without more serious trouble than being
unable to make good sense of a sentence in
the French essay they were translating. At
last they went to Cousin Caryl who had studied
French and graduated; of course she ought to
know.

But Cousin Caryl, if she had graduated, was
puzzled over the sentence and knitted her brows,

i
at
A

HAVING A ‘HURSAL,’?
and struggled with the crooked verb, while the
girls lounged on either side of her and waited.
It was just at that moment that Laura remarked :
“ Minnie, you ought to begin to do your hair
up; you will not get it in manageable trim for

the Anniversaries, if you don’t train it. I
always hate to change the style of wearing my

hearsal” in the air, and much prac- -



APPLICATION.

hair just before ’m to be hurried and flurried
over anything.”

“T’m not going to change the style of wear-
ing my hair,” said Minnie, composedly. I’m
going to wear it down my back all summer; I
think itis ever so much less trouble, and besides,
J like it better.”

“ Well, but, Minnie, it won’t do to wear alight
silk with your hair in that shape; it will soil it.”

“Who said I was going to wear alight silk?”
Minnie asked, her fair cheeks flushing.

“Don’t you expect to have Aunt Mary’s light
silk made over for you for the Anniversaries ?”

“No, I just don’t. How absurd it would
look for me to wear a silk, and you who are two
years older, wear white. That light silk wouldn’t
become me, either; it isn’t my color at all.”

“But, Minnie, you know mamma said she
couldn’t afford to get two new white dresses
this season; and the silk is lovely, and Aunt
Mary gave it for that purpose.”

“T know all that; it won’t cost any more to
have a white dress bought for me than it will
for you, and the silk is becoming to you and it
isn’t to me. Besides, you are the oldest and
ought to wear silk if either of us do.”

“T’m the oldest and therefore I ought to have
the new dress,” said Laura, positively, her
cheeks also growing very red.

“T don’t think so; I’m to play at the Re-
hearsal, and all the girls who play will be
dressed in white. Wouldn’t I feel comfortable
rigged up in Aunt Mary’s old silk while the
others all wore white?” ¥

“ Wouldn’t you feel quite as comfortable as
T should?”

“No, I wouldn’t; because you don’t play;
and some of the singers will dress in colors;
and the dress will become you and it won’t me.”

“ Well,” said Laura, “ J shall speak to mamma
about it, and we'll see. I’m the older and en-
titled to the new dress, and you will find she
thinks so.”

“I don’t believe I shall find any such thing,”
declared -Minnie, her cheeks almost blazing
through the delicate blonde skin. “ Mamma
has good taste, and she weuld see the absurdity .
of such an arrangement. What difference do
you think it makes because you are twenty
months older than I?”
A PRACTICAL

APPLICATION.





a



Now both of these girls were getting very
much excited; there is no telling what they
might have said next, but for an interruption.

It did not come from Cousin Caryl; she was
a cousin who had known the girls but a few
weeks, and she not only felt embarrassed at
their having this dischssion before her, but she
did not know in the least what to say. Nobody

you would have to do as the ’ciples did, put
down your heads and look ’shamed.”

Imagine how those two sisters felt! They
looked at one another for a moment in dumb
astonishment; then they looked at Cousin
Caryl, then all three broke into laughter.

«You little darling!” said Laura, dashing
after Alice, and smothering her, apron and all,



THE DISCUSSION.

thought of little Alice, who was in the conserva-
tory which opened from the sitting-room, and
which she had appropriated as a play room since
the plants had moved-out doors. She had laid
“Emmeline Augusta” and “Harriet Jane
Lorelia”” on the seat behind her, had put on
Laura’s ruffled kitchen apron and Cousin Caryl’s
gun hat, and was having a “hursal” all by her-
self, holding up her sheet music with a dig-
nified air,as much like Laura’s as she could.
In one of the pauses of the music she had
caught the excited tones of Minnie’s voice and
had stopped to listen.

Something about the talk reminded the mid-
get of the very last Bible story she had heard,
which happened to be the one where the disciples
had been disputing by the way, who should be
greatest. Suddenly her clear, silvery voice
broke into the discussion: ‘If Jesus should come
now and ask you what you were talking “bout,

under hugs and kisses. When she looked up
there was a suspicious sparkle on her eyelashes,
but her voice was sweet.

“JT don’t care about the dress much, Minnie ;
I'll have the silk one if you would so much
rather.”

“Well, I wouldn't,” said Minnie quickly.
“You ought to have the new one, of course.
You are the oldest.”



A rire of business men in Missouri have
issued the following advertisement:

« Any man who drinks two drams of whiskey -

per day, for a year, and pays ten cents a drink
for it, can have at our store thirty sacks of
flour, two hundred and twenty pounds of granu-
lated stigar, and seventy-five pounds of green
coffee, for the same money, and get two dollars
and fifty cents premium for making the change
in his expenditures.”.




BEN-HADAD’S FIRST CHRISTMAS.



HERE lives in Cleveland, Ohio, a bright
Bobemian girl. Her parents are infidels.
She used to go to Sunday-school, but ceased,
read Bohemian infidel papers, attended worldly
amusements, assisting in acting at a theatre,
and lost faith in God. She had to make the
fire every morning early. She was not very
successful, often trying several times before it
would burn.
God and His answers to prayer, and she thought
within herself, “If God answers, why not ask
‘Him to aid me to make a fire?’ She tried it,
and lo, the fire started at once. Then she got
the Pansy books, the reading of which was
blessed to her conversion. Now she has re-
nounced the world, determined not only upon
a Christian life, but to be a missionary to her
people.”

NE day in India a native came to the mis-
sionary who was his teacher, and said he
had been talking with some sailors who were
bad men, because they told wicked lies. He
said, among other things they told him that the
water where they lived sometimes got so hard
that men could stand on it! That they could
stand in the middle of a river, and the water
would be too hard to let them through. “But
of course,” said the native, “ you know I would
not believe such a silly lie as that! I know
better.”

“Well,” said the missionary, “that story is
true. Ihave often stood on the water when it
was so hard that men and horses and even
elephants would not break it. Do you believe
that?” :

Over the face of the native came an aston-
ished and puzzled look, but his answer was
prompt.

“Yes, I believe it because you say so;
but I don’t see how it can be!” Let me tell
you what I thought when I read this true
story. ,

I could not help thinking how much more
ready this converted heathen was to believe
what his missionary said, even though he could
not understand how it could be, than we are
sometimes to believe the Lord Jesus Christ
Himself.

Somewhere she had read about |

————=s.

BEN-HADAD’S FIRST CHRISTMAS.

PART I.





j ITTLE Ben-Hadad stood leaning on
6G the window-sill, looking out into the
bit of a yard. There was nothing
to be seen in it then, except snow
and one lonesome tree, gaunt and
bare, that shivered a little every time the wind
blew around the corner. Up and down the
street there was nothing but snow —on the
houses, on the trees, on the few people that
ventured out on the bitterly cold day —un-
usually cold, even for the day before Christmas.
Ben-Hadad shivered. Just then a man went
by, his overcoat buttoned tightly about him,
carrying over his shoulder a Christmas tree, its
long evergreen branches covered with snow,
like the rest of the world. The boy looked
after him thoughtfully. “I suppose,” he said,
thinking aloud, “that we will have Christmas
this year. Won’t it be fun?”

More men went by. The sun was warming
the air, and women began to venture out.
Every one that passed Ben-Hadad knew was
preparing for Christmas. Pocket-books went
one way, and packages of all shapes and sizés
returned. “I suppose,” said Ben-Hadad again,
“that there is nothing in the pocket-books when
they come back, so they don’t care to show
them.” Then he reached down into his pocket
and brought out a dingy two-cent piece, laugh-
ing as he surveyed it doubtfully. “I might
buy a stick of candy for Uncle Flatiron,” he
said, and laughed again,

The door opened just then, and a woman
came in, “To whom are you talking, Ben-
WTadad?” she asked. “And why do you
nearly freeze yourself over there by the win-
dow? Your nose looks like an icicle.”

“T was just thinking aloud, mother, and not
talking to any one. It isn’t very cold here.
My nose is cold because I have been leaning
it against the glass. Come see these birds,
mother. Don’t you like to see the people go
by? They are all getting ready for Christmas.
Don’t they look cold?—the birds, I mean.
Can’t we have Christmas this year?”

“Yow you can talk!” said Mother Hadad,
BEN-HADAD’S FIRST CHRISTMAS.





coming to the window, and looking over the
boy’s shoulder. ‘Yes, Bennie, I think we will
have Christmas this year.”

“That will be nice,” said Bennie decidedly.

“T have always wanted to, when everybody~

seemed to have such fine times, and now the
time has come.”

“ We have only just learned how to celebrate
it, Bennie.” And the boy thought he saw a
wee tear intrude upon the soot on the window-
_ sill. He looked up quickly, but no more ven-
tured out.

“See those birds, mother. Don’t they look
hungry? How do you suppose they will get
anything to eat?”

“T don’t know,” said Mother Hadad, smiling.
“That is, unless you give them some crumbs
off that dry loaf in the pantry.”

“ May I, mother?”

“Tf you will promise not to keep the window
open a'minute after you have put them out,
and be sure’and not stop to throw a snowball
at any one.”

He laughed, and ran away to get the crumbs.



did not love, that he had told them about Him,
and little by little they had been persuaded to
go to his “teacher’s church,” and, to make a
long story short, first Mother Hadad, and then
Father Hadad, had learned to love the Christ,
too, and as little Ben said — only to himself,
not even aloud — “they were both nicer than
they had been before, although of course he
couldn’t love them any more.” |

But after his father and mother had joined
the Christian church, hard times began for
them. For Father Hadad was discharged from
the store where he was working, and they be-
came very poor; sometimes had hardly enough
to eat.

‘It was only about a month before my story

begins that the father had got another place — .

in a store where he received a good salary
—and good times began again for the Hadad
family.

That was how this came to be their first
Christmas.

At supper that night, when Father Hadad
had come home, they began very earnestly to

BEN-HADAD’S VISITORS.

And now, to introduce you to this family: it
consisted of Father and Mother Hadad, and
little Ben-Hadad, all Jews, whose ancestors,
years and years ago, had come over from Pales-
tine. But this year little Ben had been invited
into a Christian Sunday-school, where he learned
so much of Jesus, whom his father and mother

talk over what they would do to celebrate.
“J was called into the office to-day,” said the
father, “and Mr. Sanborn said we would close
the store to-morrow, so he would wish me a
Merry Christmas, and would Ben come to his
house in the morning and get something he and
his wife wanted to send us to celebrate with.”
BEN-

HADAD’S FIRST CHRISTMAS.





“What do you suppose it can be?” asked
Ben-Hadad, his eyes shining.

“JT presume a chicken, or something of that
sort. Mr. Sanborn has a very large poultry
yard, and they tell me that every Christmas he
gives away a great number of chickens and
f turkeys.”

“Tt was kind in him to remember us,” said
Mother Hadad thoughtfully; not as though
she were thinking of what she said, but of
something else.

Presently she laid down her fork, and bend-
ing over to him, whispered in his ear, “ Let us
have a Christmas party!”

Ben-Hadad looked at her to see that she was
in earnest, and clapping his hands, exclaimed,
“ Wouldn’t that be splendid?”

“ Hush!” said Mother Hadad aloud. “ Don’t
tell your father. I guess we can have a secret
of our own.”

Father Hadad raised his hands in mock
despair. “And is my family to tum against
me, and form conspiracies ?” he asked.

“Never you mind,” said his wife, langhing
across the teapot. “I’ve always heard that
Christmas Eve was the time for secrets. Naw,
Ben-Hadad, if you want to talk it over with
me after supper, you will have to help me clear
off the table and wipe the dishes.”

“ All right,” said Bennie, and he was soon
~ armed with a towel. “ said he.

“Not until the work is done,” said
mother. “I must think a little first.”

/ Thinking,” with Ben-Hadad, was hard to
* do at any time, so busy did he keep his tongue.
~ “Mother,” he began presently, “do you sup-





DAP
3egin,





lis

; pose any of our ereat-great-great-grandfathers
—away back, you know—lived near Bethle-
* hem?”
~ ©0 yes!” said Mother Hadad, as she briskly
i ‘ washed a plate. “My family was a Bethlehem

«' one — of the house of David; and so was your
father’s. That makes me think of an old Christ-
mas legend they used to tell in his family.”

“Christmas? They didn’t have any.”

“T know it. But the Hadads that lived in
4 » Bethlehem when Christ was born, were Chris-

‘vians; at least so the story goes. It is about
, little Ben-Hadad, who they say was just your
J age.”

f
i



‘
'b

ner tac

“Go ahead,” said Ben-Hadad briefly, using
terms which I am sure would have shocked his
ancestor.

“Jt is very little of a story. Ben-Hadad was
wandering around one evening, looking for
something todo. You know there were a great
many people in the 2 for they. had come up
to be taxed.”

“T wouldn’t have come if I had been they,”
observed Ben-Hadad. ‘ Let the tax man come
to them!”

“ Then you would have been arrested, per-
haps, for the Romans looked out for their taxes.
But little Ben-Hadad, your ancestor, liked to see
the people, and while he was taking his walk,
he came across the stable where Mary and
Joseph were.”

“ And the baby ?”

“ And the Christ-child. He was there when
the Wise Men from the Hast came with their
gifts, and looked at them wonderingly. And
when he saw where the baby layin the manger,
and that there was but a little straw in it for a
bed, he went about and gathered more, and
brought it to the strange cradle. And just as
Mary was thanking him, the shepherds came in
and told of the angels and their song: ‘Glory
to God in the highest, and on earth peace,
good-will toward When Ben-Hadad
grew up, he saw Jesus crucified, and always
afterward.he wore about his neck a cross made
of two wisps of straw, in memory of what he
had done for the Christ-child.”

“That is a beautiful story,” said Ben-Hadad,
when his mother was silent. “ Do you suppose
it is true, mother?”

“No,” said Mother Hadad, “I do not sup-
pose it is. Stories brought down from so long
ago are apt to be mere traditions. But I think
myself it is a sweet legend, and I will tell you
presently something that I think it teaches.
You have finished your dishes now. While I
am putting the kitchen in order, suppose you
get the Bible, and read me the story of
Christmas, to celebrate Christmas Eve; first in
Matthew, then in Luke.”

So Ben-Hadad got their new Bible, and read
the old story of the shepherds and the Wise
Men, and the star which shone over one of
Bethlehem’s lowliest stables, —

men.’
BEN-HADAD’S FIRST

CHRISTMAS.





“Jn the starry midnight,
Centuries ago.”

Meantime Mother Hadad moved rapidly
about the little kitchen, and hung up the dish-
pans, and brushed off the stove.

Ben-Hadad was silent fora moment or two
when he had finished. “Mother,” he said
presently, “I think that song was the prettiest
thing that ever was written.”

«“ What song, Bennie?”

“Why, the angels’ ‘Glory to God,’ you
know.”

“JT don’t know but I think so, too,”
Mother Hadad.

There was silence then for a long time, save
for the swish of her broom.

“What are you thinking of, Bennie?” she
asked, after a few moments.

“Twas thinking,” said he thoughtfully, “how
much I would like to have been there.”

“Jn Bethlehem?”

“Yes. To have done anything like what he
did, you know, for the Christ.”

Ben-Hadad’s sentences were rather mixed,
but his mother understood him.

“ Bennie,” she said, “turn to the twenty-fifth
chapter of Matthew, and read the fortieth
verse.”

After some searching, Ben-Hadad read:
« And the King shall answer and say unto them,
Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have
done it unto one of the least of these my
brethren, ye have done it unto me.”

“Do you see,” asked Mother Hadad, “ that
you have as much opportunity to do something
for the Christ as had little Ben-Hadad of
Bethlehem ?”

Ben-Hadad was thoughtful. ‘ Mother,” he
asked, “ was that the lesson you wanted me to
learn from the straw story?”

His mother smiled and nodded as she took a
seat by the fire in a low rocker. “Come,” she
said, “now to our party. We can’t afford a
fire in the parlor to-night, we are going to be so
expensive to-morrow. I am going to let you
invite two people to a Christmas supper to-
morrow night. We will have that chicken that
Mr. Sanborn will send us, and mashed potatoes ;
I will make a little apple sauce or something,
for a relish, and you can buy some candy and

said

a cake at the baker’s; we will have a regular
Christmas. Your father had his next month’s
salary paid in advance, and he and I decided
that we could spend a little more money than -
usual, seeing it is our first Christmas.”

Ben-Hadad’s face had grown brighter and
more astonished at every sentence of his
mother’s. “How perfectly magnificent!” he
said. “And I may invite two whole people to
the house ?”

“Unless you have them in pieces,” said his
mother, smiling.

“Whom would you invite ?”

“Two of the least,” said Mother Hadad
promptly.

Ben-Hadad looked astonished.

“ Two of the least of ‘His brethren,’ I mean.
You have not forgotten your lesson? If I
were you, Bennie, I would invite the most dis-
agreeable person and the most uncomfortable
person that I knew.”

Ben-Hadad laughed. “That would be a
funny party. Well, the most disagreeable per-
son I know is Uncle Flatiron—he is the most
uncomfortable person, too, but I will have to
find another.”

Uncle Flatiron was a very cross and very
deaf old man who lived next door, and was so
called because he kept fastened to his door an.
ancient flat-iron for visitors to knock with, as
he could not hear ordinary knocks. The wicked
little boys of the neighborhood used to throw
snowballs against the house, to make him think:
some one was rapping, and come to the door.

Much discussion was held between Ben-
Hadad and his mother concerning the Christ-
mas party, and it was agreed that the former
should invite Uncle Flatiron, and look about,
between then and the next evening, for some
other uncomfortable person.

“ Mother,” he said, “I’m not sure that Uncle
Flatiron is a ¢ brethren.’ ”

Mother Hadad smiled. “God hath made of
one blood all the nations of the earth,” she
said, “and whether he recognizes his family or
not, he is a‘ brethren,’ as you say, all the same.”

Two or three blocks fron the Hadads’ home -
was a large stone church where little Ben-Hadac ¢
used to love to go on Saturday evenings, to
hear the choir, which was a very fine one,








CHRISTMAS.

FIRST

BEN-HADAD’S

a
fd
|
o
4
is]
a
a
%
<
8
4












BEN-HADAD’S FIRST

CHRISTMAS.



practice for the next day. As he had heard
they were to rehearse the Christmas service, he
went around that evening and got his usual
place, a corner near the door; the sexton was a
friend of his, and always let him come in to listen.

The cushions of his seat were soft, and some--

times he would fall asleep during the singing.
In the church there was a large and fine
painting, which the sexton said had been
copied by a very great artist, from one which
represented Mary and the Christ-child. The
face of the mother was gentle and sweet, and
that of the child such a wonderful mingling
of tenderness and simplicity and thoughtful-
ness, that Ben-Hadad never tired of looking at
it. To-night he thought both faces seemed
more lovely than usual, in honor of the great
birthday of to-morrow, and the child seemed
listening to the music the choir sang of Him.

For they sang beautiful songs that evening, ©

Ben-Hadad thought. “It could not have been,”
he said to himself, “that the song of the angels
over the pastures of Bethlehem sounded much
sweeter.” They sang “Glory to God in the
highest, and on earth peace, good-will toward
men!” The wonderful “ Hallelujah Chorus”
from Handel, which has never been equalled,
Ben listened to almost without breathing; but
the best thing of all, was when a very beautiful
lady arose in one corner of the choir, and in a
voice of such richness and sweetness as little
Ben-Hadad had never before heard, sang these
words : —
“0 little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie!

Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by.

Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting light;

The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee to-night.

O morning stars, together
Proclaim the holy birth!

And praises sing to God the King,
And peace to men on earth.

For Christ is born of Mary,
And gathered all above,

While mortals sleep the angels keep
Their watch of wondering love.

How silently, how silently
The wondrous gift is given!
Se God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of his heaven.

No ear may hear His coming,
But in this world of sin,

Where meck souls will receive Him still,
The dear Christ enters in,

Where children pure and happy
Pray to the blessed Child,

Where misery cries out to thee
Son of the Mother mild,

Where Charity stands watching,
And Faith holds wide the door,

The dark night wakes, the glory breaks,
And Christmas comes once more.

O holy child of Bethlehem,
Descend to us, we pray!
Cast out our sin and enter in,

Be born in us to-day.

We hear the Christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell;

O come to us, abide with us,
Our Lord Emmanuel!” *

PaRaNETE.

HERE once was a great preacher by the
name of Monod. In one of his sermons
he told a story about two little girls who were:
watching the sunset. The older one told her
little sister to notice what a long way the sun:
had traveled since morning. The little one.
reminded her that father had told them only
that morning that the sun did not move.
“Yes,” said the older sister, “but I don’t be-’
lieve it. I saw the sun rise over there this
very morning; and now it is away over here:
How can a thing go all that distance without
moving? If we didn’t move we should always;
be where we are now, up on this hill.”
“ But,” said the little one, “you know father
said it was the earth that moved.” x
“T know it,” said the other, “but I don’t be
lieve that, either. I am standing on the earth
now, and go are you. How can you pretend tc
think it moves when you see it does not stir!”
Said the great preacher, “These simple oner
might divide mankind between them, and carry
the banner of their parties through the world,
There never has been, and there never will be
any other division, but they that take, and they /
that will not take, their Father’s word.” ‘
What Father do you think he meant ?

* Dr. Phillips Brooks.
A ee

DAUGHTER.



A THOUGHTEUL - DAUGHTER.

a ‘RS. HASTINGS laid the baby down
# very carefully, even keeping back a
sigh of relief, lest it might waken him
It wus the third time that



Baby had a hard task on hand — that of push-
| ing four double teeth through swollen gums.

They all insisted on coming at onee, and made

his life miserable. The night had been a rest-

less one, and baby and mamma were all tired

out. A soft knock fell on the door. Mrs, Hast-
ings went on tiptoe and opened it. Bridget
sic al there, her broad face looking troubled.
Shi motioned her mistress into the hall.

“ “lout its growing late, and Mr. Fred has
brought company home to dinner, and they are
ae on the train, so he says he must be ready
oi. the minute; and the table isn’t set, and
there’s nothing ready for dessert, and I’m that
fed that I had to come for help, though I



Sa ree re mee

tried my best not to.”
Mrs. Hastings gave the faithful girl a sympa-
alee smile for her thoughtfulness, then said :

' Where is Carrie, Bridget? J thought she
wais to set the table and see to the dessert.”

.“) Miss Carrie is out, ma’ain. She said she
‘would get back in time, if she possibly could,
‘built it is growing late. I think I’d have man-
aged it if company hadn’t come, but Pm afraid
they will miss their train, you see.”

Tl come, Bridget, right away.”

_ Mrs. Hastings returned to tuck the covers
| more car efully about Baby, laid back into place

thy pillow she had arranged for taking a little

rest, while he slept, then made all haste to the

dis ‘Aing-room. Sure enough, it was Inte. She
would have to be brisk indeed if her son’s

‘fr jends did not miss their train. The dishes

;wert on rapidly. ;

{ '« Where is the cream pitcher, Bridget?” she

asked, making the journey to the kitchen for

that purpose. “I can’t find it in the china

{close tee)

: “Miss Carrie took it, ma’am, to put a calla

lily jin last night. She said it was the only

thingy j in the house that was just the right shape,
cand, she would have it ready by dinner time.

ee

#
[
{

i

b

Pll run up-stairs and get it, ma’am. She took
the lily away with her this morning.”

“No,” said Mrs. Hastings. “It will not do
to leave your oven without watching just now.
Pll go myself.” So she toiled up-stairs for the
pitcher, washed and arranged it, then opened
the sugar bowl. It was empty. Keeping the
sugar bowls and salt cellars in order was part of
Carrie’s work. To the store-room for sugar,
then to the kitchen for water with which to
cleanse the salt cellars, which were found to be
in confusion. Now she was ready for the bread
knife. It was notin its place. She spent some
precious minutes in looking for it, then applied
to Bridget.

“QO ma’am! Miss Carrie had it in her room
cutting a bit of vine. She said it was the only
knife that was sharp enough, and she forgot to
bring it back.”

Up-stairs once more for the bread knife, a
search for it under piles of paper and piles of
clean clothes not yet put away; then to the
kitchen to wash it, and Mrs. Hastings glanced
nervously at the clock. “TI shall not be able to
make anything for dessert at this hour,” she
said. “We shall have to depend on fruit.
What were you planning for, Bridget?”

“Why, Miss Carrie said she would make a
lemon custard, ma’am, and I thought she had
till I went to the closet to look for it, and found
the lemons not cut.”

Mrs. Hastings sighed. “We must depend
on apples and raisins,” she said. “ Where are
the raisins Carrie got yesterday ?”

“She did not get any, ma’am. They had
none of the right kind at Moore’s, and she was
going to stop on her way back, at Jones’, and
forgot it.”

“Then it is apples and nothing else. I won-
der what Carrie did not forget. There are no
clean napkins in the drawer, Bridget. What
does that mean ?”

Bridget really looked embarrassed. “ They
haven’t been put away yet, ma’am. You'll

find them on the ironing shelves.”

With a delicacy that Carrie ought to have
appreciated, she kept herself from saying, “ Miss
Carrie forgot to attend to them; and as you
told me, ma’am, not to do it, there was nothing
to be done but let them lie there in the dust.”
THE

BOY WHO HELPED.





All of this Mrs. Hastings knew without being
told. But I have only given you a hint of the
trials that met that tired mother.

Meantime Carrie, in a very becoming winter
hat, with the collar of her sealskin sack drawn
up about her ears, braving the December snow-
storm in a very business-like way, dodged into
stores and shops, and out again, in a flutter of
haste and excitement. :

Just as the very last step needed for the
dimer was taken, the hall door opened with a
rush and the flushed cheeks and shining eyes
of the young girl appeared in the hall, as Mr
JJastings came from the other direction.

“Such atime as I have had, papa!” whispered
Carrie confidentially, as he drew off his over-
coat. “Tye been everywhere in search of
something for mamma’s Christmas present. I
had an idea at the last minute — something that
would make it so pretty —and I started out in
the midst of this snowstorm to look for it. I
thought I would have to give it up, but at last
I found it in a little old store on Dey Street.”

The dining-room door was opened suddenly.

“Mr, Hastings, it will be necessary for you
to come to dinner immediately,” said his wife.
“Fred has company who are to go on the train,
and it is late. Don’t wait for me. I had to
leave the baby and come down to do Carrie’s
work, and he has wakened again and is erying.”
Saying which, she ran up-stairs.

Carrie gave her mother a reproachful ¢lance,
and her father a meaning look. As for the
father, he had not been in the kitchen for the
last hour, and knew nothing about thémother’s
unnecessary steps. So he said, “ Never mind,
daughter; mamma does not know what impor-
tant secrets took you away. She will know all
about it to-morrow.” But she didw’t.

Christmas morning came, and in the Hast-
ings house there was a very quict family. Carrie
presided at the breakfast table, and was pale
and grave. What eating Mr. Hastings did
was disposed of rapidly, and he hurried back
to his wife’s room.

“Utterly worn out,” the doctor had said
when he came down-stairs a little while before.
“ Nervous prostration we must call it, for want
of a better name. Nervous wear-out it ought
to be called. She was on her feet all day yes-

terday, the girl told me, after being broken of
her rest all night. That was the last straw,
probably, and it broke her. O yes! we hone
she will rally, but I don’t know how soon.
These sudden breaks are dangerous things.”
Myra Sparrorp.

THE BOY WHO WELPED.

ERY busy times had there been at Mr.
Parker’s all the week, sweeping, washing”



*E3 the usual time of year for that clea, ‘ing.

until late this year, on purpose, on account of
the wedding. 1
“Since we must clean house any way,’ "Ishe
said, “we may as well delay, and have the house-
in all its freshness for Marie.
doesn’t come every year.
be turned aside from our usual ways a little.’

A wedding

But they had been more than “a little”

turned aside.
must be finished at just such a date.
no use for the carpet men to send word that
they could not possibly come to-day or to-racr-

Having begun the busines: it

row, but would be sure to be on hand byight,

and early Thursday. Bless their dear hesrts !
Thursday was the day of the wedding. Dic
any one suppose that a carpet in the hduse

could wait until that day before it went down ee

This belated carpet was a very important émey,
too ; it was for the library, and had been selected

new by the pretty bride herself to match He
wall paper and the lovely new table scale

Certainly that must be laid, whatever else jvas

left undone. , (
A half-frantic man rushed from one end of

the town to the other in search of a carpet)
man or men, but none was to be found to ra

at just the right time. i

“One would think there was to be a werk--

ding in every house,” the mistress saiil ine
despair, “everybody is so busy. Mr. Parker,
what are we to do?” {

Then did Mr. Parker take off his coat and:
declare there was no help for it; he must put
the carpet down himself. It was hard ‘work.
He was used to managing law-suits and giving:

}

windows, and what uot. It was not quite .

The truth is, Mrs. Parker had put it on

We can afford | to-

It wars of

Te ee

ce




THE

BOY WHO HELPED.





advice and attending to other people’s business
for them in many ways, but this did not help
him a bit when he came to stitching and match-
ing carpets. Some of the tacks went down in
the wrong place and had to come up again, and
did not want to. The tack hammer broke just
when it should have done its best, and hurt
Mr. Parker’s finger. He tossed the hammer
down in disgust, said it was a worthless thing ;
he would have a better one than that before he
drove another tack, or his name was not Parker.
In a very few minutes he came back in triumph ;
he had found a tack-puller that was perfection.
Mrs. Parker, busy as she was, had to come from
the pantry to look at the way it worked.

“A child could use it,” said Mr. Parker,
showing it off with great pleasure. “I believe



“PAP\’S LITTLE MAN.”

Roy could take up tacks with it as well as any
Where is he? Roy, see here,” and five-
year-old Roy came bounding in,“ There,”
said Mr. Parker gleefully, “look at that,”
as the sturdy little hand under his father’s
. direction, lifted the tacks from the floor with
". ease. “I call that an invention worth making.
' Anything that saves time and strength in this
busy world, I’m interested in. ‘The Little
Giant’ they call this creature, and he is well-
named. He does without effort what I have
bothered over for five minutes atatime. Just
watcii how easily it is done.”

Roy watched, too, while the line of crooked

one.

tacks in front of the bay window was drawn
out swiftly and skillfully. Before the tacking
commenced again, Roy was off. He had left
a playmate when he was called, and as soon as
possible ran back to her. More than an hour
afterward the playmate had gone. Roy, left
alone, thought of the new tack-puller and how
nicely that tack came up that his father let him
pull. He thought it must he pleasant work.
He would like to do more of it. He ran to
the library, but it was deserted. My. Parker
had finished his task and the new carpet was
ready for the wedding. It looked firm and
smooth. Though Mr. Parker was not a carpet-
layer by profession, he was one of those who
could do well whatever he undertook. Roy,
as he stood and looked at the rows of tacks,
had a great thought come into his wise brain.
It occurred to him that he might do something
to help his busy papa.

“JT am so relieved to think that carpet is
down,” said Mrs. Parker to the bride-elect that
afternoon. “I was really afraid we should have
to close the library on the ocension, and that

“would have been too bad after buying a carpet

just to please you. But your father has done
it beautifully; a professional could not have
made it look better. Have you been in to see
it, Marie?”

No; Marie had been so busy; but she would
go this minute. “ Poor papa!” she said on the
way there, “itis too bad that he had to do
such work with all the rest he must, attend to.”

“Poor papa, indeed !”
it, only she was too much astonished and dis-
mayed to say a word. Both Indies seemed to
have lost their power of doing anything but
staring, first at the floor, then at each other.
The pretty carpet that had-been so firmly fast-
ened to the floor, lay in loose rolls over the
room ; not a tack left in it! :

“J did it all myself,” satd Roy, bursting in
upon them. “TJ did it every bit myself; I and
the Little Giant. Won’t papa be pleased?”

“What will his father say?” was all the
troubled mother could find voice for; and, as
if to answer her, the father appenred in the
doorway at that moment, took in the situation
at a glance—the dismayed ladics, the loose
carpet, the rows of tacks along the floor, the

She might well say

its

&


CIRCUMSTANCES ALTER CASES.



radiant boy. IJTe thought of the hard night’s
work before him to stretch that carpet again
and get it ready for the wedding next day.
Only a moment he stood watching the surprised,
grieved look which was gradually coming over
the face of the little boy. Then he stooped
and lifted him in his arms, kissed his flushed
checks once, twice, three times, and said,
“Papi's little man! he thought he was helping
papa; itis worth all the work to have a boy
who tries to help.”

“Pye always admired papa,” said’ the bride,
telling the story over again to the man who



CIRCUMSTANCES ALTER CASES.

BS icing hat uae ;
Gi RIS PMAS-DAY though it was, a very
els gloomy-faced little girl stood on the

fi bank of the river and watched the
scene on the ice. The girl’s name was
Sara Mason. She lived in one of the
small houses on a back street, near the river.
There were father, mother, Sara and the baby
in the little house. It was so very little that it
seemed to Sara that they would never find a
place for all the things, though she knew that
they had but few things. It was only two






THE GAY GROUP ON THE Ick,

was to be her husband. “I have always
thought him one of the grandest men in the

world, but I don’t believe he will ever be-

grander in my estimation than he was when he
controlled himself and kissed Roy for undoing
his half-day of hard work.” Pansy.

weeks since they had moved to this town from
a larger and pleasanter house; and being gloomy
and sad over many things which had lately
happened to them, Sara felt homesick and lone-
some.

“Some folks have all the nice things there




ee aca PPE pre cee

CIRCUMSTANCES ALTER CASES.

are in the world, and others must go without.”

She was talking to herself as she looked at
the gay group on the ice, watching them with
such a sullen look on her face that, had they

_been near enough to see it, they might almost

have been frightened. “Just look at that
proud thing sitting there in her sleigh holding
a puppy. I should think such a great girl as
she is would be ashamed to go out riding with
a puppy in her arms. My, my! did I ever see
such a sleigh? Jt is made on purpose for the
ice. I do believe it is lined all over with plush.
I never saw anything so pretty in my life! just
see how it slips along; and my lady looks as
pretty as a queen. She never has trudged
through the snow to the grocery, T’ll be bound.
Those are silly-looking boys drawing her; I
shouldn’t like to have my brothers —if I had

any—rigged up like that. They make me

_think of the boys who rode the ponies the day

when the circus went by; but I suppose that’s
the way grand folks dress. That’s what they
call skating suits, I guess. I wonder what my
lady would say to having baked potatoes and
bread and butter for a Christmas dinner, and
not another thing. J suppose she had turkey
and cranberry sauce and oyster pie, maybe, and
no end of things. It is just as I said: some
folks have all the good things in this world. I
don’t see why I couldn’t have some as well as
such a proud-looking girl as that; she has fur
all over her and a plume on her new hat as long
asmy arm. How would she like to wear an old
hat, I wonder, and a sacque too short and too
narrow and too everything? I s’pose she lives
in one of those grand houses over there, and I

8’ pose she had candies and nuts in her stockings,

and all sorts of beautiful presents, and T had
just an apple. She’s coming this way, I do be-
lieve; she’s going to stop her sleigh and look
at me! She needn’t. I most believe Pll make
a face at her, if she does. I’m as good as she
is, any day, if I can’t prink up in fine clothes
and ride out in a grand plush sleigh, painted
blue-and-gold color.”

“Merry Christmas!” said a clear, pleasant
voice from the sleigh as it drew close to the
shore. “ Will you have a Christmas package ?
T am giving one toeach of my friends. I guess
you are my friend, aren’t you?”

“T don’t know,” said Sara. She thought
afterwards what a rude answer it was to make;
but just then it seemed to be the only one she
could think of.

“Oh! I guess you are; you must be about my
age. All the girls who live here are my friends.
Do you live near this place?”

“T live on Day Street,” said Sara briefly and
coldly.

“Oh! do you? I wondered who lived in
that little red house next to the corner, and I
hoped we’d be good friends. TP’m all alone at
our house; the only girl, you know; and I do
get very lonely sometimes. You will have one
of my Christmas packages, won’t you? Robbie,
hand her this, please.”

It was a large white stocking, made of the
material called milinet. Through its openings
Sara could see the gleam of candies in all sorts
of curious shapes. The sweet voice from the
sleigh went on: —

“This is one of my ways of having a good
time on Christmas. The boys take me out rid-
ing, and stop along shore for me to greet my
friends. Have you brothers and sisters to play
with ?”

“There’s only the baby and me,” said Sara,
speaking a little more politely, and accepting
the white stoeking with a “ Thank you!” won-
dering at the same time whether she ought to
take it, and what else she ought to say.

“Oh! have you a baby at your house? I
wonder if you won’t bring it to see me some-

time. I do love a baby so much. I have only
this dog. Will you bring your baby to call on
me?”.

“ Perhaps your mother wouldn’t want me to,”
said Sara, determined to take no advantage of
all these kindnesses, and be as dignified as she
could.

A sad look flitted over the face of the child
in the sleigh, but her voice was still sweet:
“My mother has gone to Heaven, and my
father, too; but I live with my auntie, and I
know she will be glad to see the baby. She
always welcomes my friends.”

“ Poor little girl without father or mother or
baby; nothing but a dog!” This was the
thought in Sara’s heart, but she did not put it
into words.
GRANDMA’S MISTAKE.



It now occurred to her that it would be polite
to ask the little girl to come and see her, though
she didn’t believe she would want to come to
such a little house as theirs. “If she doesn’t,”
said Sara, hardening her heart again, “Tl not
go near her.”

«“ You might come to our house and see the
baby sometime; it is only a little walk from
where you live, if you live in that big house
over there.” She pointed to one of the grand
river fronts where she strongly suspected the
whole party belonged. The little girl shook
her head. “I live there,” she said, “but it is
too long a walk for me. I might ride there
sometimes, if the coachman can turn down that
street; I can’t walk.”

“ Why not?” Sara’s voice was hard, and she
could hardly keep her lip from curling.. What
a little goosie, to talk of riding a dozen steps.

“T never walked a step in my life. Some-
thing’s the matter with my back, and my feet
have to be lazy all the time; they are good-for-
nothing things; just for ornament.”

Her face was bright again, and she finished
her sentence with a queer little laugh. Sara
could not Inugh. Tears came into her eyes
and rolled down her face. It seemed to her

she had never heard of anything so hard in her ~

life; but all she said was, “O dear!”

The nodding plume leaned quite over the
side of the sleigh. “You are sorry for me,
aren’t you?” said the gentle voice. “Thank
you; but I don’t mind it so very much. I have
a great many things to be glad over.”

“To think that I should have envied her,”
said Sara, speeding home after she had promiscd
to ask her mother to let the baby come on the
first bright day and make a call on her new
friend —“ to think that I should have envied
her, and she has no mother or father or baby
brother; and she never walked a step in her
life! O dear me!”

The strong little feet carried their owner
swiftly through the snow up the path to the
little house; and Mrs. Mason received such a
hugging and kissing as she had not had for
many a day.

“Seems to me you have come home in a
happier mood than you went out,” she said
when she had a chance to speak again.

eee eee

“ Mother, PM never be unhappy and grumbly
again, never, mother. Just think of a little
girl who has not any folks, only aunts and
cousins and such things, and who has never
walked a step in her life! O dear! O dear!
Where’s the baby? Seems as if I wanted to
smother him with kisses. . Catch me grumbling
again!”

But I’m afraid she will the very next time
things don’t exactly suit her. People forget,
you know. Pansy.

GRANDMA’S MISTAKE.

OOR Grandma! IJ do hate to tell her,
And yet it does seem very queer ;

She’s lived so much longer than I have,

And I— why, I’ve known it a year!
Even Alice begins to look doubtful,

And she is so babyish, too,
And mamma slyly laughs at the nonsense,

But Grandma believes it is true.

“T did it all up in brown paper,
And Jaid it just there by her plate;
She put on her glasses so slowly,
I thought that I never could wait.
But when she had opened the bundle,
‘ My patience!’ she said, ‘how complete!
A dear little box for my knitting —
Now isn’t old Santa Claus sweet ?

«¢To think that the funny old fellow
Should notice I needed just this ;

If he should come in here this morning,
I think I should give him a kiss!’

She never once looked at me, never;
Of course [ had nothing to say,

But I was so mortified, truly,
T just had to run right away.

“Poor Grandma! I do-hate to tell her!
But some day, of course, she’ll find out;
And then she will laugh to remember
What once she was puzzled about.
But as for that beautiful work-box,
She laid with such care on the shelf,
How can she think Santa Claus brought it?
I made the thing for her myself.”
— Selected.


KITTY AND HER TINY PARASOL.






HER MOTHERS BIBLE.
By Pansy.

INCLINE MY HEART UNTO THY TESTIMONIES AND NOT TO
COVETOUSNESS.

Trus? IN DO Goo; SO SHALT THOU
PDWELL IN THE LAND, AND VEUILY THOU SHALT BE FED,

BEAR YE ONE ANOTHER’S BURDENS AND SO FULFILL THE

THE Lorp AND

LAW OF CHKIST.
Tir Loup our Gop WILL WE SERVE, AND HIS VOICE
WILL WE OBEY.

Ver said Mrs. Selmser, fingering the
leaves of the large old Bible with loving
touch, “it is all I got; no, I wasi’t disappointed,
because T didn’t expect anything. Maria was
the youngest child, and mother has lived with
her so inany years it stood to reason that she
would leave everything to her. To be sure, as
Reuben says, Maria has enough, and more than
enough, while we find it pretty hard work to
mike the two ends meet; but then, mother
didn’t sense that; she was old, you see, and
didw’t think much about money matters, any-
how; and she had no great to leave, I suppose;
she has always paid her way at Maria’s. Those
children were great pets of hers, of course, be-
ing with them ever since they were born; she
didn’t know our children much. Mother wasn’t
able to travel for a number of years before she
died, and we could never afford to take the
children to see her; so it was all natural enough,
and I’m not a mite disappointed, though I can
see that Reuben is, just a little; that’s natural,
But Pve got the old Bible, and Td rather
have it this minute than anything mother had
to leave. You see it is the one she used regu-
larly for years and years, and it is all marked
up with her verses. You can’t hardly turn a
page but you will come across a verse marked
in red ink, or blue ink, or green ink; mother
was a great hand to mark her Bible, and so was
father. It makes the verses kind of stand out,
you know, so you are obliged to think about
them, even if you are in a hurry; and it kind
of seems to help you get the sense of them; I
don’t know why, ’m sure; Maria didn’t think
so. She never liked to see a Bible marked up ;
she said it Qidn’t look neat.
“T suppose that was why mother gave the

too.

WER MOTHER’S BIBLE.



message to me that she did. Said she, ‘ Jane,
Tm going to leave my big old Bible to you and
your children; I have a feeling that it will help
you more than it will Maria or John” Some
way it did me good to have mother say that,
and know that she had thought about it and
planned to leave her Bible to us; and I’m right
glad to get hold of it. I tell the children I
hope they will learn every one of the marked
verses this year, and store them up; because
their grandmother never marked verses at ran-
dom, as you may say; she picked them out to
live by.”

All the while she talked, Mrs. Selmser kept
up that tender little almost caressing touch of
the worn Bible, and as she turned its leaves and
one caught elimpses of the marked verses, it
gave the impression that the grandmother had
lived on a great many.

“Yes,” said Mrs. Selmser, smiling fondly,
when her attention was called to this, “my boy
Ralph says, ‘Why, mother, if we undertake to
learn all of Grandmother's verses, we might ag
well learn the whole Bible and be done with it.’
And I tell them I don’t know as. they could
learn anything that would make them wiser.”

Miss Edwards, her caller, reached for the
Bible and turned the leaves with careful fingers
and paused over some of the marked verses
with interested face.

“Trust in the Lord and do good; so shalt
thou dwell in the Jand and verily thou shalt be
” read Miss Edwards. “That is heavily
marked.”

“Yes; and I make no doubt there was a story
belonging to it if I only knew it. If you look
close you will see father’s initials in the corner,
and the letters T. P. made very small. You
know about the old lady who marked her Bible
all over with T. P.’s, don’t you? Why, she
meant tried and proved. That story made a
great impression on father, I know, and he used
to mark some verses that way; so did mother.
I know some of the stories. J only wish I knew
all of them.”

“JT only wish they would come true to us, as
well as to grandfather and grandmother,” said
young Ralph in a doleful tone as he leaned over
his mother’s shoulder and looked at the heavily
marked verse.

fed,






A em heh

-lots of gravy.

HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.

“Ralph,” said his mother reproachfully, while
the visitor regarded him with a questioning
smile, “have you tested it?” she asked. But
Ralph, blushing much, had no reply to make.

* Do you know what a hard time the Smiths
are having?” said Mrs. Selmser, closing the
Bible, as one who had turned to entirely another
subject. “Ralph here, found out by accident
that they were actually hungry — those children,
you know. Doesn’t that seem hard? I declare,
when I heard how poor little Mamie snatched
after a bit of bread, it made the tears come.”

Miss Edwards had not heard about them;
she asked many questions, and said that directly
after Thanksgiving she would go and see them.
Then she went away. No sooner was she out
of hearing than Mrs. Selmser had something to
say. ‘I was sorry you spoke in that way about
the verse, Ralph; if Miss Edwards should ever
hear anything about that chicken, she would
think you didn’t want them to have it.”

“She won’t ever hear about it,” said Ralph ;
“and besides, you know I said all the time that
those chickens were dreadful little to make one
do for a big family like ours; Thanksgiving
Day, too.”

“Yes, but, Ralph, you know the Smiths had
nothing at all for dinner, and one chicken is
better than nothing, i8w’t it?”

“We might have sent them something clse,”
Ralph said slowly. It had evidently been hard
work for him to give up that chicken.

“But we hadn't anything else, my boy, that
we could spare, that would have been a kind of
a treat to the Smiths. Don’t you really think,
on the whole, that we did the best we could?”

Ralph gave a little sigh, then looked at his
mother and laughed.

“Ts all right, mother,” he said, “only you
see I had kind of set my heart on our having
those two chickens on Thanksgiving Day all to
ourselves ; most folks have turkeys, you know,
but I told myself I would be contented with
chickens, if we could have two of them, and
It isn’t for the eating either,
that I care so much, it is just because I wanted
to be like other folks, you know.”

“T understand,” the mother said cheerily,
“and you wanted the Smiths to have a good
dinner, too; I know that just as well as though

I could Jook right into your heart. You
wouldu’t lave had them miss of that chicken
for anything, now would you?”

Ralph laughed again, and said he didn’t know
as he should, and went away whistling. As
for Miss Edwards, no sooner was she out of the
house, than for some reason she changed her
mind, and went at once to call on the Smiths.

Here she heard wonderful stories; they had
been in trouble, but they believed their darkest
day had passed, thanks to their neighbors. Mrs.
Smith constantly wiped away the tears as she
told of the many thoughtful kindnesses of Mrs.
Selmser and her family. “And they are poor
themselves,” said Mrs. Smith; “I dare say
they have scrimped themselves a good deal to
help us all they have.”

Miss Edwards did not doubt this, for she
knew a good deal about the Sclmsers. Their
crowning act of kindness, if Mrs. Smith is to
be depended upon, was that chicken. Such a
wonderful story as she heard about it! How
it, with its companion, had been the special
property of Ralph Selmser, the sole survivors
of a brood of seven, all the others having come
to ericf; how Ralph had confided to her boy
Peter that he was raising those chickens for
their Thanksgiving dinner, and how he and his
mother were going to give the father a surprise;
and then to think that they should be willing
to change all their plans, and get along with
only one chicken for themselves, was almost too
much, Mrs. Smith thought. “It isn’t as though
they had plenty to give,” she said, wiping her
eyes, “but they have been ready to divide their
little with the widow and fatherless; I hope
the Lord will make it up to them.”

Mrs. Smith had still more reason for gratitude
before that call was concluded, but it is not
about her that I want to tell you at present.

I want you to think of Ralph Selinser as
looking out of the window on the morning be-
fore Thanksgiving, when little Tim Potter, who
was everybody’s errand boy, appeared in sight,
holding on with both hands to the largest tur-
key Ralph had ever seen.

To his great surprise, Tim opened their side
gate, and squeezed himself and the turkey
through it. He rushed to the kitchen door to
see what was wanted, and the turkey was laid
HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.

at his feet in silence, and Tim was off like the good; so shalt thou dwell in the land, and
wind, verily thou shalt be fed.”

A note was found pinned to the turkey’s leg, While the others all talked at once, wonder-
but when it was examined it said only this: ing how, and why, Ralph stood back with folved
“For Ralph Selmser to give his father and arms, and looked at the turkey.
mother a Thanksgiving dinner.’ And below “Tt is Grandmother’s Bible that did it,” he
it, these words: “Trust in the Lord and do said at last.




sarong set een on

eee

LITT*.E TIM POTTER,












AN OLD-TIME SCENE.



a


WONDERS OF MAN.—THE

“BIFFEL TOWER.”



WONDERS OF MAN.

eee at home by familiarity cease

to excite astonishment; and thence it
happens that many know but little about the
“house we live in” —the human body. We
look upon a man as we look upon a house, from
the outside, just as a whole or unit, never think-
ing of the many rooms, the curious passages,
and the internal arrangements, of the house, or
of the wonderful structure of the man—the
harmony and adaptation of all parts.

In the human skeleton, about the time of
maturity, are 165 bones. The muscles are about
500 in number. The length of the alimentary
canal is about thirty-two feet. The amount of
blood in an adult is nearly thirty pounds, or
full one fifth of the entire weight.

The heart is six inches in length and four
inches in diameter, and beats seventy times per
minute, 4,200 times per hour, 100,800 times per
day, 36,772,000 times per year, 2,565,440,000 in
threescore and ten; at each beat two and a
half ounces of blood are thrown out of it, 176
ounces per minute, 656 pounds per hour, seven
and three fourths tons per day. All the blood

in the body passes through the heart every-

three minutes.
less industry, —

The little organ by its cease-

In the allotted span
The Psalmist gave to man,

lifts the enormous weight of 300,700,200 tons.

The lungs will contain one gallon of air, at
about their usual inflation. We breathe on an
average 1,200 times per hour, inhale 600 gallons
of air, or 14,400 gallons perday. The aggregate
surface of the air-cells of the lungs exceed 20,000
square inches, an area very near equal to the
floor of a room twelve feet square.

The average weight of the brain of the adult
male is three ‘pounds and eight ounces. The
nerves are all connected with it, directly, or
through the spinal marrow. These nerves, to-
gether with their branches and minute ramifica-
tions, probably exceed 10,000,000 in number,
forming a “ body-guard ” outnumbering by far
the mightiest army ever marshalled.

The skin is composed of three layers, and
varies from one fourth to one eighth of an inch

in thickness. [ts average area in an adult is esti-
mated to be 2,000 square inches. The atmos-
pheric pressure being about fourteen pounds to
the square inch, a person of medium size is
subjected to a pressure of 40,000 pounds.

Each square inch of skin contains 3,300
sweating tubes, or perspiratory pores, each of
which may be likened to a little drain tile one
fourth of an inch long, making an aggregate
length over the entire surface of the body of
201,156 feet, or a tile ditch for draining the
body almost forty miles long.

THE “HIFFEL TOWER.”
HAT, you know, is the name of the great
tower being built in Paris, to be ready
for the Exposition there, next summer. It is
built of iron, and is to be nine hundred and
eighty-four feet high. Can you think how high
that is? The Washington Monument, which is
the highest building we have as yet, is five
hundred and fifty-five feet; but here is one
going up, that will be almost as high again.
The tower is for the purpose of lighting the
grounds where the Exposition is to be held. I
cannot decide how much light it will send out.
One writer says it will be as much as nineteen
million candles would give. But who knows
how much that would be!

How would you like to go to the top of that
tower ?

Just take a run over to Paris, next summer,
and try it, will you? You will have a chance to
ride part of the way up, on an elevator. How
far? Oh! only a matter of nine hundred and
seventy-one feet.

WISH all the boys and girls would cultivate
politeness. It means so much! Begin at
home —at your own tables. And by being
polite, I mean never do anything that will be
considered disagreeable by those with whom
you associate. An impolite boy is always an
unpromising one. A smile, a gentle word, a
very little act, has been known to make a boy’s
fortune. So, boys and girls, study politeness.
Rinewoopo.




ROB: A STORY FOR

BOYS.





ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.
By MarGaret SIpNeyY.
CHAPTER I.

we, yt HERE is that-boy?”

Ay Miss Philenalooked up. It
Vv wasn’t in nature to expect her to
hold her gaze to the blue stocking
she was laboriously heeling off,
with that voice ringing in her ears.
However, she said nothing, being used to keep-
ing her tongue between her teeth.

“Do you know?” came at last, a direct ques-
tion.

“T s’pose he hasn’t got home from the mill.”

“You s’pose. Well, if I had him here now,
he’d know better’n to VPiter over that job.
When’d he start ?”

“Oh! something more’n an hourago.” Miss
Philena leaned forward in her high-backed
rocker to get a leisurely view of the corner
clock.

“Humph!” It was more of a grunt than an
exclamation, and the speaker thrust his hard
hands into his pockets, and walked to the one
window yielding a view of the road. Beside
the thoroughfare, occasionally furnishing bits of



- pictures, constantly changing as the pedestrians

and the few people with vehicles passed, there
was not much to provide entertainment for the

‘ inmate of Joel Slocum’s home, housed on a mid-
-winter day. A few gnarled apple-trees in a
‘corner of the house-lot shook their ragged

ibranches in the wind, twisting themselves into
various distortions and affording but scanty
slielter for the score or more of hungry fowls
who fluffed out their feathers in the vain at-
tempt to keep warm under them. Now and
then a lean and ill-favored eur would diversify
matters by rushing down from the old porch to
bark and show all his teeth at them. When
they scattered in all directions, the dog would
go slowly back to throw himself down again on
the porch-floor to watch them reassemble. At
such times there would be a temporary excite-
me it within doors, and Miss Philena would
eatch herself peering out of the window for any
chance guest. But such personages rarely ap-

peared, and soon all things settled down to a
dead level again.

The house, square and roomy, had in its time
been a fine old family mansion. It would be
hard to imagine it ever briiliantly lighted at
night, or overflowing with life in the day time.
Yet such had been the case even in Joel and
Philena Sloeum’s youth. But that was long
since; and the brother and sister, the only rep-
resentatives of the family who chose to remain
in New England, had gradually withdrawn
from people, and, as a natural sequence, losing
interest in others, had at last lost enthusiasm
for their own especial life-work, and instead of
keeping the farm and homestead up to its for-
mer air of opulent content, had let the one run
down through lack of work, and had shut the
other up, one room after another, till now, the
only apartments used were the kitchen and two
bedrooms if we except a small room in the ell,
for Rob.

“That boy grows worse and worse,” growled
Joel, going to the window for the twentieth
time. “It’s because we let him have his head
so much.”

Miss Philena folded her knitting-work with
extreme deliberateness. “Yowre gettin’ ner-
vous,” she said. “We might as well have
tea,” and she proceeded to get out of her chair,
an operation always attended with difficulty,
after sitting long.

Joel regarded her with disfavor. “You
grow stiffer every day,” he observed, not mine-
ing matters.

“T s’pose I do,” she answered coolly ; “that’s
natural, I’m sure. We’re neither of us young,
brother.”

Jocl winced. Any allusion to his age always
made him testy. ‘Well, where’s that boy, I
sh’d like to know,” he repeated.

“So sh’d I,” responded his sister, “but I
ain’t going to growl and grumble over it. Why
don’t you take hold and do something to help
the time along? You might set the table for
once.”

“That’s woman’s work,” said Joel disdain-
fully.

“S’posin’ ’tis,” said Miss Philena, “‘it’s bet-
ter’n no work, in my opinion.” With that she
disappeared in the buttery.
AMBER.





Somebody, whistling along the road, now
drew Joel’s attention, and he peered eagerly
through the gathering darkness to catch sight
of the figure Hale ancing toward the house. A
boy presently turned in between the tall granite
olden time there had been a
merriest

posts where in
gateway, and whistling away at the
of tunes, leaped over the old porch, and threw
open the door, showing a ruddy face, and clear
blue eyes.

“ Talloo!” said Joel, hurrying forward from
the window, “where have you been this long
time, Rob?”

“To the mill,” said the boy.
sent me down Masts with the corn,
shut up. Mr. Griggs is sick.”

“Sick! Griges sick?” cried Joel with inter-

est. “What's the matter? ”
“JT dom’t know. J asked ’em over

“ Aunt Philena
but it’s

at the
house, and they didn’t any of ’em know. Te
had a chill this morning, they said, and he
coughs. That’s all they told me, anyway. Is
supper ready?” turning his hungry young eyes
around for the usual preparations for that meal.

“No, ’tisn’t,” said his uncle shortly; “and
*twon’t be for you,in a good while. Where’s
your bag of corn?”

“T left it at the mill,” said Rob.

“JT thought you said the mill was shut up,”
gaid Joel sharply.

“So it was. But I know where there’s a
hole in the buck shed, so I slipped the corn-bag
in there, instead of carrying it home. And to-
morrow I can run down and see if the mill is
going again. Likely enough somebody’ll run
it, if Mr. Griggs can’t.”

“You're likely enough with your opinions,”
snarled Joel; “fora
you have

» boy of fourteen, I must say
about as many as I ever see. You'd
no right to leave that bag without leave, over
to Grigeses.”

The boy made no reply to this. Ile was
well accustomed to blame; a little more or less
made small difference, and he now busied him-
self in speculations of the liveliest sort as to the
probable time of the supper, the preparations
for which his practiced ear told him were well
under way, judging from various sounds ema-
nating from the buttery: At last Aunt Philena
appeared, bearing in one hand the wooden

bread plate with its usual supply of carefully
trimmed slices, and in the other the remains of
a cold meat pie.

“You home, Rob?” she remarked, by way of
welcome, as she set these down on the table.
“There, pull this out, and lay the cloth.”

“TTe’s left. the bag o’ corn over to Griggses,”
complained her brother. “Now what’ll you
do, pray tell, for your meal?”

“Left the bag of corn over to Griggses,” re-
peated Miss Philena. So the explanation had
to be gone over again. All this while Rob was
setting the table briskly, and trying hard not
to catch whiffs of the pie, it made him so very
impatient to have a taste of it.

Aunt Philena said nothing. It wasn’t her
way when irritated, but at last seated herself
at the head of the rather scanty board.

“Come, Joel,” she said, “supper’s ready.
Do hurry, so that we can get through and the
dishes can be done up. Get into your place,
Rob.”

“Rob isn’t coming to supper,” declared his
uncle, hurrying over to drop into his chair op-
posite his sister. “A boy who can beso long
over an errand like that, and then, to cap all,
can leave a bag o’ corn that’s intrusted to him,
out of his hand, ain’t fit to set by to supper
with us. Go to bed, Rob!” IIe turned to
lim sharply. “Tere, light your candle, and get
along off with you.”

AMBER. ‘
Mf
? HE only place in which amber has peed
found in paying quantities is in thre
Baltic Sea, and the vein extends froin
Western Russia to Denmark, Norwety
and Sweden. In former years the pro-
duction of amber depended principally upon
the storms occurring in the winter time, for
when the sea was convulsed, the amber lying
on the bottom was thrown up on the shore;
but human enterprise stimulated by the dem: ind
for the article has changed all this, and for the
last twenty-five years various engineering ar li.
ances have been used for getting out the am ber
in the quickest and cheapest way.
The most profitable strata have been found




4

ae

ns

ope



AMBER.







=—

in the Courischer Haaf, which is located in the bringing up the sand and what amber there
vicinity of Memel, and there are twenty large may be in it. This is emptied on the deck of
dredging-boats constantly at work day and the ship, and there it is washed, and the amber
picked out from
among the sand
and stone.

The little vil-.
lage where ‘this
industry is car-
ried on is called
Schwartzort. It
is situated on a
narrow strip of
land that extends
about ten miles
beyond the main-
land, and is per-
haps a mile wide
at its widest part.
At one time this
strip of land was
covered with a
forest, but the
wood was sold off
by a Prussian king
in the beginning
of this century to
the Russians.
The land has be-
come barren since
stripped of its
sheltering forest,
and now it is
nothing but a
sandy waste; aud,
were it not for
the amber indus-
try, this beautiful
peninsula would
be desolate.
About ninety
miles further
west is another
little village,
called Palmnick-

} A DIVING SUIT, : en, and here the

; . amber is obtained
aight for eight months in the year. There are in an entirely different manner. The most ap-
lanye strings of iron pails that are constantly proved diving apparatus is used, and the divers
deagging along the bottom of the sea, and go out in row-boats, each of which is fitted
































KITTIE’S PLAID SHAWL.

ae
with an air-pump. They go down into the sea,
where some of them remain as long as four or
five hours. Each diver has a little bag around
his neck, and a peculiar hook, with which he
pulls up sand, and every piece of amber that
he finds is thrown into his bag. An encourage-
ment to the diver is that if he finds a piece of
amber he is entitled to a prize of ten, twenty-
five, or fifty cents, according to the size.

While the divers are below in the sea, en-
gaged in hunting for the amber, the miners are
just as busy on land, for it seems that the same
stratum of the green sand runs, perhaps for
thirty miles or more, into the land. The open-
ine of the mine is perhaps a thousand feet from
the shore, and it is necessary to go down about
one hundred and fifty feet, which is some thirty
or forty feet below the level of the sea. To
keep the mine as dry as possible, there are sev-
eral pumps working day and night; and to pre-
vent the earth from falling in, the passages are
propped up by logs of wood. There are about
forty miles of passageway in these mines, and
there are about seven hundred men employed
for the various departments. As soon as a pas-
sageway is opened, a track is laid, and on this
track there runs a little truck, which holds per-
haps half a ton of sand. The miners simply
eut out the sand and fill the truck. It is then
brought to the surface, when the entire con-
tents are thrown into a long trough filled with
rushing water, which separates the sand from
the amber, which is caught by nets of various
sizes. ‘The amber is then cleaned by machinery,
and assorted according to its quality and purity.
The writer believes himself to be the first
American who ever went down into the amber
mine.

F. R. Katpensere, in the Swiss Cross.





KITLIE’S PLAID SHAWL.



gi ITTIE LEE, look how faded and
(2. small your cloak is! You have grown
224% too big for it.” And Jessie Scott took
up the childish hand that hung beside her own,
as they walked home from school. “See how
far your dress sleeve comes down below your
sack. It is too short for you. Why don’t you

=

ask your mamma to buy you a plaid shawl like
Susie’s and mine?”

“O, Jessie! My mamma says she cannot
afford to get me one,” replied Iitty with a lit-
tle sigh,

“We girls will all go and ask her, won’t
we?” said Jessie, turning to a merry group of
children, on their way home together.

“JT am afraid she will feel bad to have you
ask her,” ventured Kitty, “for I know she
would get me one if she could.”

“Oh! she won’t feel bad, Kitty; perhaps
she does not know how much you want it. |
Will she be home from school now ?”

“T guess so.”



KITTIE AFTER THE PLAID SHAWL ARRIVED,

A merry group of little girls from five to ten
years old trooped into Mrs. Lee’s cosey sitting-
room, and found her just laying aside her hat
and cloak.

“O, Mrs. Lee!” said Jessie, “we have come)
to ask you to buy Kittie a shawl like ours,” and.
she arranged in a row four or five attractive:
little figures in new plaid shawls. ‘ We have
got them, and they are so nice and warm that
Kitty wants one, too.” \

“No one would like better to get one than,

{


sil

8a)
tir

wi
an

Sh

80)
us,

‘ weeks he died.



KITTIE’S PLAID SHAWL.

IT would for Kitty, my dears, but just now I
cannot do it.”

“Oh! do get it, do, Mrs. Lee,” chimed in
a chorus of voices. “They don’t cost so very
much, and I don’t believe you know how much _
little girls want things sometimes.”

“Yes, my little girls, I know very well how
much Kitty wants and really needs it, but the
dear Lord has not given me the money to get
it this winter,’ answered Mrs. Lee in a sad
tone.

“Don’t tease her any more, girls, please
don’t,” said Kitty, almost ready to cry because
she had not said No at once, when her friends
proposed asking her mamma.

The little party left the house, and after
waiting until they were far enough away to be
out of hearing Jessie said, “I do think it is
mean Kitty can’t have anything she wants since
her papa died.”

“No, girls, Mrs. Lee is not mean,” said a
bright, blue-eyed, flaxen-haired little one. “My
papa says Mrs. Lee is very poor now, and I am
sure she is a lovely teacher, and Kitty loves her
mamma dearly. Everybody does not have all
the money they want.”

Mr. Lee had been a professor in the academy
at the city of M ,and with his wife and lit-
ile daughter was very happy in their pleasant
nome, But overwork and fatigue one summer
fuid him low with fever. And after a few
He was young, and looking
\ forward to a long life, like many others, death
‘overtook him, without making any provision
ifor his family. Poor Mrs. Lee was for a time
£0 prostrated with grief at her terrible loss, that
the could not make any effort to help herself.
h position as primary teacher was offered her,
and gladly accepted. Kitty was now six years
old, and as only little more than a year had
passed since her father’s death, there were many
sore ways for money than Mrs. Lee could meet.

It was bed-time and little Kitty came to her
mamma to say her evening prayer. Clasping
her arms about her neck she asked, “ Mamma,
would it be wrong to ask God to give me a
peal shawl ? ”

“Certainly it would not, my darling,” and
slic pressed a loving kiss upon the sweet face so
close to her own.



So the innocent child knelt beside her mam-
ma and in simple faith asked the dear Lord to
bless them, and added, “Please, God, all the
money and all the things in the world are yours!
please send me a plaid shawl! Please do, dear
Jesus! I want it so much.”

Kittie’s head was laid on her pillow that
night with a trusting faith that her wants
would be supplied by that Hand who was so
well able to do it.

Next day, although Kittie watched for her
answer it did not come, so at evening time her
little prayer was repeated with the same faith
and trust. Several days passed in this way.
Each night Kittie’s petition was not forgotten :
“ Please, dear Jesus, send me a plaid shawl.”

About a week after, as the child was ready
for bed, she looked into her mamma’s face, say-
ing, “Mamma, God always hears our prayers,
doesn’t he?”

“Te always hears, my darling, but He does
not always answer as we expect He will. Some-
times He thinks it is not best for us to have
what we ask Him for, and so [He gives something
that He knows is better for us. We cannot
always know what is best for us. But Ife
knows, and He always hears, and He has prom-
ised to answer our prayers in his own way.”

“Well, mamma, Iam going to keep on ask-
ing Him. Maybe He is too busy to listen, but
a bright angel might run and tell Him to hear,
for a little girl is praying. Iam sure He will
answer me, mamma.”

So the childish voice pleaded: “ Dear Jesus,
love mamma and me! Make mea good girl,
and bring me a plaid shawl so that I can say
Jesus gave it to me.”

Next morning before they started for school
a gentleman called at the door, and saying with
a cheery voice, “Good-morning, Mrs. Lee,”
handed her a package. “I was buying a shawl
for my little daughter, and thinking Kittie
might like one, I bought one for her, too.”

Mrs. Lee, with tears in her eyes, told him the
story of the childish faith and prayer, adding,
“<¢Tnasmuch ag ye have done it unto one of the
least of these my children, ye have done it unto
me.’ May God bless you for it.”

He went away, leaving such joy and thanks-
giving and praise to the dear Jesus who had
JAPANESE COURTESY.—“FINISH IT.”



heard and answered prayer, as they could hardly
find words in their full hearts to express.
“But,” said Ixittie, “Mr, Smith is not God.”
“No, darling, but God put the thought of you
into his heart, and through him the dear Lord
has answered your prayer for the plaid shaw.”
What a happy Thanksgiving was theirs !
Mary Wooprvurr.

CONTEMPORARY gives the following

in regard to Japanese courtesy: “ When
a couple of Japanese acquaintances encounter
each other in the street —no matter whether
high or low, male or female, old or young —
they stand with their feet somewhat apart and
bow repeatedly while rubbing their bended
knees with their hands, drawing in their breath
as they rise, and closing their lips with a sud-
den gasp as they flop down again. The con-
versation opens with a sigh and a dry cough:
‘Schibaraku o me ni kakarimasen,’ 7. ¢., ‘It is
along time since J hung upon your eyes. I
have not seen you this long while.” Reply:
Deep sigh with a short cough, 7. ¢., ‘ Yes, alas!
alas! I have long been deprived of the pleasure
of gazing on your features.’ Q.: ‘ How is it
with your respected husband and the charming
baby?” R.: Sigh and cough as before, 7. e,
‘Best thanks for your kind inquiry; they are
both quite well.’ — ‘Since I last had the pleasure
of hanging on your eyes, you have grown much
older and also rather stouter.? R.: Sigh and
cough, 7. ¢., ‘Many thanks for the compliment,
but Iam afraid you flatter me. And so on,
ad libitum, until they part again after series of
bows. If the salutation takes place in the
house, where the cleanliness of the mats affords
fuller play to the instincts of politeness, they
kneel down, place their elbows and hands, palms
downwards, on the floor, and touch the mat
with their forehead. They remain in this atti-
tude, gently murmuring complimentary phrases,
interrupted with sighs, until one of them, feel-
ing the blood rise to his brain, cautiously lifts
his head to peep whether his vis-d-vis has
changed his position; if this is the case they
both slowly work their way upwards; but if
the other still keeps his head on the ground, the
first one quickly ducks down again so as not to
be outdone in politeness by his partner.”

“FINISH IT.”

HEN Samuel F. B. Morse, afterwards
famous as the inventor of the electric
telegraph, was a young painter studying in
London, he made a drawing from a small cast
of the Farnese Hercules, intending to offer it
to Benjamin West as an example of his work.

Being very anxious for the favorable opinion
of the master, he spent a fortnight upon the
drawing, and thought he had made it perfect.

When Mr. West saw the drawing he exam-
ined it critically, commended it in this and that
particlar, then handed it back, saying: “ Very
well, sir, very well; go on and finish it.”

“ But it ds finished,” said the young artist.

“QO no!” said Mr. West; “look here, and
here, and here,” and he put his finger upon
various unfinished places.

Mr. Morse saw the defects, now that they
were pointed out to him, and devoted another
week to remedying them. Then he carried the
drawing again to the master. Mr. West was
evidently much pleased, and lavished praises
upon the work; but at the end he handed it
back, and said, as before: “ Very well, indeed,
sir; go on, and finish it.”

“Ts it not finished?” asked Mr. Morse, by
this time all but discouraged.

“ Not yet; you have not marked that muscle,
nor the articulations of the finger-joints.”

The student once more took the drawing '
home, and spent several days in retouching it. ;
He would have it done this time. /

But the critic was not yet satisfied. The
work was good, “very good indeed; remark.
ably clever;” but it needed to be “finished.”

“JT cannot finish it,” said Mr. Morse, i
despair. ‘

“ Well,” answered Mr. West, “I have tried
you long enough. You have learned more bly
this drawing than you would have accomplished »
in double the time by a dozen half-finished
drawings. It is not numerous drawings, bit
the character of one, that makes a thorough
draughtsman. inish one picture, sir, and you
are a painter.”

It was a good lesson. One principal part of
a teacher’s business is too keep his pupil froum
being too easily satisfied. — Hachange.

!
!

i
f




|

Bre:

the

cc

son,



ea

TAS



HAPPY SONGSTERS.
HER

MOTHER’S BIBLE.





HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.
By Pansy.

TAKE HEED, BRETHREN, LEST THERE BE IN ANY OF YOU
AN EVIL HEART OF UNBELIEF IN DEPARTING FROM THE
LIVING Gop.

Nor bY MIGHT, NOR BY POWER, BUT BY MY SPIRIT SAITIT
tHE LORD OF HOSTS.

GREAT MEN ARE NOT ALWAYS WISE,

THY PEOPLE SHALL BE MY PEOPLE.

Gon.

AND THY GOD MY

HE winter set in very gloomily. Ralph,
leaning over the kitchen table, listening
to his mother while she talked with Mr. Brew-
ster, thought there had never seemed a darker,
and could not help thinking privately that his
mother was a little, just a little, foolish. Oh!
of course he did not put it in those words, even
to himself, but that was what the thought
meant, all the same.

This was the way matters stood. Mr. Selmser
was out of work, and had been for some time
away from home looking for a chance to earn
his living; that very morning had come a letter
from him saying he had only succeeded in get-
ting enough to do to earn his board, and he saw
no prospect in the future, but would hold on a
few days longer. Now here sat Mr. Brewster,
who had come to offer Ralph’s father a place.
“Td be very glad to have him,” said the gentle-

man. “I know him to be a good, steady man,
one to be relied upon. It isn’t much of a place
now, but there might be a better opening before
long. We can’t tell what may happen.”

Mrs. Selmser sewed on, and Ralph wondered
what in the world she could mean, and was
almost tempted to answer for her. At last she
spoke :—

“Tt isn’t the wages, Mr. Brewster, nor the low-
down place, as you may say. My husband is
not one to wait for good places. He would saw
wood for a living, if there wasn’t anything else
to do, and be thankful to get it. But I don’t
think he conld take this job, even if it came to
starving.”

Ralph looked amazed, not to say disgusted,
and Mr. Brewster, mildly astonished, waited for
an explanation.

“You see it is a matter of principle,” ex-
plained Mrs. Selmser. “ Reuben doesn’t believe

in the business; of course he oughtn’t to help
it along.”

A patient smile covered Mr. Brewster’s face..
«“ Oh! is that the trouble?” he said, in a kindly
tone. ‘ Well, my dear madam, you can set
your heart at rest; all in the world we shall
for him to do is to cart empty barrels
There

haye
from the mannfactory to the warehouse.
certainly cannot be any moral question about
that.”

Mrs. Selmser’s needle flew very fast. “The
question is, what goes into the barrels?” she
said at last, speaking gently but very firmly.

Mr. Brewster laughed. “I can’t imagine
what my porter would have to do with such a
question,” he said, still speaking with a show
of kindness. “He is paid for carting barrels,
and as I look at it, it is none of his business in
any way what is done with them after they
leave his hands.”

Mrs. Selmser stayed her needle and looked
steadily at her caller.

“Jt was kind in you to think of us, Mr.
Brewster, and I thank you. But I know my
husband well enough to be sure that he will
have nothing to do with barrels that are going
to have beer put into them; so there wouldn’t
be any use in sending for him.”

“Very well, madam,” said Mr. Brewster,
rising as he spoke. There were two red spots
on his cheeks by this time. “I suppose there |
is no use in my telling you that I think him a |
very foolish man indeed, and that he will be’
likely to starve his family before this hard win-)
ter is over, if he tries to live by such a pagan,
ish conscience as that. But any duty is foe
so I will bid you good-evening.”

“ Mother,” said Ralph, almost before the: ~
door closed after him, “I don’t see how yon
dared to say that to Mr. Brewster. He is a
very great man —the greatest man in this
town. The boys said to- ey that he was the
richest man in the country.”

“J have nothing to do with that,” said Mrs,
Selmeer. “I had to answer him, and there
was nothing else to say, as I look at things.” ;

“But don’t you think you are a little bit —'a
little bit ”— said Ralph, hesitating for a word,
and leaving a blank at last. “ You know father
wouldn’t have to touch beer, and, as Mr.


HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.





Brewster said, what is it to him what goes into
the barrels?”

«“ What difference does it make with you, my
son, if a boy in school borrows your knife to
cut a hole in his desk, and you know what he
is going to do, yet you open your knife and
hand it to him?”

“ That’s different,” said Ralph.

“ Yes, it is,” said his mother, “because the
mischief would only be done to a piece of
wood, while beer, now” — and she, too, left her
sentence blank.

“Come,” she said, after a few minutes of
silence, “read the verses and we will have
prayers, without waiting for Mary Jane. She
said she would be late to-night. They are get-
ting ready for a Christmas dinner, you know.”

“Jt is more than we are doing,” said Ralph,
with asigh. “I don’t see how we are to have
any kind of dinners if father can’t get work.
Shall I read some marked verses, mother ? ”

“Yes, do,” said Mrs. Selmser. “ Let us have
some of mother’s good words to-night to help
us, and don’t you worry about the dinners,
Ralph. Don’t you remember one of the verses
— ‘Verily, thou shalt be fed’ ?”

“One would think Mr. Brewster ought to
know right from wrong,” said Ralph, with an-
other sigh. “ He is a great man.”

Then he turned, without much thought about
it, to the very first marked verse on which his
eye alighted, “Great men are not always wise.”

“Why,” said Ralph in astonishment, “ isn’t
that strange? Did you know that was in the
Bible, mother? Why do you suppose Grandma
marked that?”

“ Maybe she had something to do with great
said Mrs. Selmser,
She was very glad
A lesson that he

men herself, some time,”
with a pleasant sinile.
Ralph had found that verse.
needed very much to learn was that it took
more than money to make greatness.

A few minutes more and the short, earnest

prayer had been offered, the door locked, the
- fire covered for the night, and the kitchen

', deserted.

Meantime, Mary Jane had sent

_ word by a neighbor that there were so many

ee

“Jast” things to do, in order to be ready for
the next day, she had decided to stay all night
and help them through.

Ralph could not help another sigh as he
turned to give a last look at the room. It was
in perfect order, not looking at all, the boy
thought, as a room should look on Christmas Eve.
One solitary stocking hung by the chimney
corner. All the little Selmsers had agreed
that Baby, as the three-year-old Ned was
called, was the only one who could afford to
hang up his stocking this year. “Ned is too
young to understand things,” the mother said,
“but the rest of you do, and will be cheerful
and good, I know. Next year maybe we can
have the chimney corner full of stockings.”
So Ned’s hung alone. It had been a perplexing
thing to fill that stocking, and had really taken
hours of contriving. . Every member of the
family had made some queer thing to put in it.
When they were all stuffed in, and it was found
to be quite filled, I think every one felt a sense
of relief. But the stocking did look lonely to
Ralph as he gave it a last look; and though he
said not a word, he thought in his heart that he
would like very well to hang his beside it, for
company. He told himself, as he climbed up-
stairs, that he didn’t see any sign of ever being
able to hang up his stocking again, or to have
any nice Christmases. They were growing
poorer and poorer; if father did not get work
soon, he did not see what would become of
them.

And so night settled down on the little home,
and the embers of the dying fire lighted the
room. But the stocking by the chimney corner
was not so lonely, after they were all gone, as
Ralph imagined. Certain queer little visitors
came out of their houses and eyed it curiously,
and sighed because it was beyond their reach.

They would have liked so much to gnaw it!
And they too grumbled over this Christmas

Eve,
barn; there was nothing to be had in this house
worth nibbling for!” But they had no marked
verses on which to stay their courage.

The sunshine of the next morning had not
yet conquered the frost on the window-pane,
when Ralph, who was making a fire for his
mother, heard a brisk voice call his name.
“Ralph, my boy, has your father come home?”

“ No, sir,” said Ralph, dropping his armful
of wood, and turning to open the door for Mr.

and said “they might as well live in a
THE

HARD

TEXT.



===



Powell, who was coming up the walk. “He is
in Barton.”

“ TIas he found work yet ?”

“No, sir. Mother had a letter last night,
saying he did not know of anything yet.”

“Glad of it,” said Mr. Powell, and as this
did not sound like a very friendly thing to say,
Ralph did not know how to answer it, so was
quiet, and by this time Mrs. Selmser had heard
the voices and come to the door,

“Good-morning!” said Mr. Powell, talking
fast. “Can you give me just the address to
reach your husband quickly, by telegram?
Ralph tells me he has not’ found employment,
and I want to get hold of him as quickly as
possible. My foreman has given me the slip,
without a day’s warning. I suppose he thinks
I cannot fill his place, and so will have to
bid higher, but I have been wishing for a good
chance to get your husband in the place.
Ihave had my eye on him for a year, but didn’t
see any chance of an opening, so long as the
other behaved himself, but now that he hasn’t,
it is all right. I will telegraph your husband
to come home by the noon train, so you better
have a Christmas dinner all ready for him.
Just send around to our supply store, madam,
for anything you want. I guess you will find
everything there, and your husband will prob-
ably deal with me, after this. I supply all my
people at cost. Brewstertold me last night you
had refused a place for your husband in his
brewery. Glad of it. That’s the grit I like.
He won’t lose anything, I guess. I pay my
foreman a good salary, and it is a permanent
place if a true man wants it.”

Mr. Powell talked fast, and made a short
stay. Ile was the largest business man in town,
and was always in a hurry, but it seemed to
Ralph he would never go. The boy wanted to
throw up his hat to the ceiling and shout, and
stand on one foot and whirl on the other, and
dance what he called a “jig,” and none of these
things seemed exactly proper to do in Mr.
Powell’s presence.

“QO mother, mother!” he said, as soon as he
could get breath again, after all these things
were finally accomplished, “some great men
are wise, anyhow, and Mr. Powell is a great
deal greater than Mr. Brewster ever thought of

being. Why, mother, he pays his foreman as
much as a thousand dollars a year! O, mother!
what if you had told Mr. Brewster father would
come and move his old beer bottles! Wouldn’t
that have been just awful?”

THE HARD TEXT.

“TI came not to send peace, but a sword.” —
Matt. x. 34.

IP Luke ii. 14, the angels sing of Jesus when
He was born “On earth peace.” At first
sight these two verses seem to contradict each
other. They do not. The blessed Book never
docs that. Remember, when one thing in one
part of the Bible seems to conflict with another
part or say something which seems to be wrong,
you are to conclude that a little better under-
standing will set it all to rights in your mind.

“T came not to send peace” to asinner if he
stay in his sins. “There is no peace to the
wicked.” Phere ought not to be. But as soon
as asinner asks Jesus for forgiveness, he gets
peace. That’s the way peace comes on earth;
it is the peace of God in the heart; peace and
joy in belicving.

Now when one gets this peace, it scems so
good that he wants some other one to get it, too.
So he speaks to this other one and urges him to
confess his sins and seek Jesus; and in most
cases this other one gets angry and talks against
Jesus or Christians, That often happens in a
family where one is a true Christian and the
others are not. Yousce how trouble will come.
There will be war in that family.
be a war of swords, but it will be

Tu nay not
a war’ of
words. Jesus does not want the war, and there
wouldnt be any if the sinner would give up.
But he does not usually surrender till after a-
hard battle with Jesus. So Jesus is said to
send a sword or war. It simply means “fam,
come to fight against the wrong, and people
who are on the wrong side and stay there, will.
fight against me and my soldiers.”

My dear, dear children, I wish you may.
never be found with a sword in your hand or
mouth or heart fighting against the Lord. Let:
Iiim put His sweet peace into your heart, and

when you draw the sword, draw it against sin. :

©

~
















SPRING BLOSSOMS AND AUTUMN FLOWERS.































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































yy



























































































































































































































































|

TITIES i nen re piste see re Geta tl ee tees mente een ee ee ee oe me DRC rr naib Se RR a 2 ie et ec


HARRY’S CONCLUSION.







POEM FOR RECITATION.
HARRY’S CONCLUSION.

UCH a row of bright boy faces,
So manly and true and brave!
And the face of the lady before them
Is fair and sweet, though grave.

She is striving to plant the Word of God
Like seed in each boyish heart,
Knowing that sooner or later
Seed thus sown will start.

One of that goodly number —
The bravest, brightest there —

Speaks out in bold, free question,
With manly voice and air:

“What does it mean, please, teacher:
‘If meat make my brother offend,
Never again will I taste of meat
From now till the world shall end’?

‘oWe must eat meat, all of us,
We boys can’t do without ;

We need it some, my mother says,
To make us strong and stout.”

“Pm glad, dear boy, that you asked it—
The answer is one you need;

Listen, all of you, while I give it,
And ever its teaching heed.

“The words are words of the grandest
man
That ever the world has known ;
Of him the world was unworthy —
Unworthy to call its own.

“The words are words of a king of men,
Even the Christ-like Paul —

He whom before the great light shone
Was known by the name of ¢ Saul.’

“You will read about it. I always feel” —
The sweet voice graver grew —

“Proud that I am of the self-same race,
When I think of his life so true.

to go together.
of what their lives seem most empty of — short-
ened in.

“He meant when he spoke the words yc





quote, man as
Just this, and only this: nother!
If any weaker brother r would
Through following him should miss ‘ouldn’t
“ A part of the good they were made for,
He was willing to forego
Much of the glorious liberty
That sons of the Master know. nals
“Tf eating, or drinking, or anything
That would not injure Paul, as when
Would injure his weaker brother, At first
He would not eat at all, ict each
yk never
“Lest following his example, xin one
They so weak should be led astray — another

Away from the path of the righteous,
‘The straight and narrow way.’

> wrong,
Yr under-

mind.
“ T see that you understand me — ier if he
It goes into all of life — : to the
We who are strong must give up much » as soon

To help our brother’s strife.” he gets
a earth ;
The row of boyish faces sik
Had taken a graver look
As home to each young bosom

The lesson each one took.

But Harry, the bold, free spokesman, vane
And his voice had a true, glad ring.

As if to his life he had taken
A precious and joyous thing.

|
j
The voice was exultant, bold and firm: |
“Tf meat make my brother offend, \
Never again will I taste of meat i
From now till the world shall end!”
Eaaty Baker SMALLE.

\

\
Everyzopy’s life and Bible are just madie
Everybody’s Bible is most full

Sometimes I think God shows Him-

self in as many separate Scriptures as separa‘te
souls; or as a soul’s separate questions.

. '
answers everything. — Selected. 1

It all
ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.





ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.

By MarGarer SIDNEY.

CHAPTER It.




OB went slowly up-stairs, opened the
W! door, and went in. He set the candle
YJg down on the deal table that served him

for bureau, wash-stand, and all toilet
arrangements, threw off his clothes, blew out
the flickering light, and got into bed.

“T ought to know how it seems to go hungry
to bed,” he observed philosophically to himself
as he huddled down under the comforters, “ but
somehow to-night it hurts worse than ever.”

The old stairs creaked. At first Rob paid
no attention to the noise. One rat more or less
made but little difference; and despite the
pain and hollowness in his lower regions, the
boy was beginning to feel sleepy. Presently
the latch was lifted, and as he raised his aston-
ished head, he saw Aunt Philena’s cap-frill
rounding the door. She held a tray in one
hand. Involuntarily Rob’s nose wrinkled, while
his hungry mouth twitched.

Aunt Philena came in deliberately, put her
candle down by the side of Rob’s extinguished
one, then brought the tray over to the bedside.

“ Goodness me !” —she could not help shiver-
ing, pulling up her shawl a bit closer around
her thin neck with her free hand — “it’s going
to be a cold night. There! hold your knees
up. Ill set the tray on em.”

Rob’s eyes glistened. Yes, there was a
generous wedge of the meat pie, and a bowl of
milk!

“Oh! now that’s awful good of you,” he
cried, picking up the pie, and without the pre-
liminary of a knife or fork, he set his firm,
white teeth into its midst.

Aunt Philena watched him grimly. Pres-
ently the plate was clean of all crumbs, and
every drop of milk out of the bowl. Then
Rob huddled down again under the bed clothes,
only leaving out two astonished blue eyes to
stare at her.

“Dl have to talk quick,” said Aunt Philena,
shivering again in spite of herself, “for it’s as
cold up here as some folks’ hearts. Got enough

clothes, Rob?” She passed her bony fingers
over the patched quilt.

“Yes, indeed,” said the boy, wriggling in a
comforted way. “Oh! that pie was so good,”

‘and he smacked his lips. “I’m warm enough

when I’m in, Aunt.” Then he waited to hear
what she had to say.

“He gets more unreasonable every day,”
said Aunt Philena abruptly, and pointing to-
ward the floor to indicate the only other occu-
pant of the homestead below stairs. “ Ji things
go on in this way, I don’t know where we'll
end, Rob.”

Rob, not understanding quite what to reply
to this, wisely said nothing.

“[’m sick and tired of it,” declared Aunt
Philena at last, astonished at herself for fur-
nishing such a flow of confidence, “and some-
thing has got to be done. But Pm beat if I
know what.”

Still Rob said not a word.

“ Yowre old enough now to understand some
things, Rob. When you were fourteen I made
up my mind I'd tell you. Your mother, if she’d
lived, would have had her rights here the same
as he and I have; now she’s dead, they’re
yours.”

The boy sat straight up in bed now, the
clothes toxsed back from his young shoulders
that had lost all fear of the cold, the light flash-
ing from his bright blue eyes, and every nerve
strained to catch the astonishing news.

«“ Your uncle don’t mean to cheat you, ’tisn’t
that,” she went on with a tightening of the
thin lips, as if a pain had suddenly seized her
at some unwelcome thought — “ but it is cheat-
ing you, all the same, out of an education, that
will stand you in stead by and by, better than
this land and homestead that will all be yours,
of course.”

«©, Aunt!” cried Rob, springing forward to
lay his brown hand on her long fingers, “if
Uncle Joel will only let me go to school, he
may have all the rest of my share in the prop-
erty. I don’t want it.”

Aunt Philena smiled grimly, the thin lips re-
laxing against their will. “ You'll want every
bit of the property when it comes time for you
to have it,” she said. “You won’t find it hard
to use it, dwindled down as it has, Rob. I can
BEHOLD

THE BARE.



remember this place actually rolling in plenty,
the house full of people, and everybody happy.”
She set her lips together hard now, and fell
into a train of reverie, from which the boy,
awakened to eager aspirations, found it difficult
to rouse her.

“One thing is settled,” at last she said,
slowly, “you are to go to school.” The boy
gave an exclamation of delight. “How it can
be managed, I don’t yet see. But you and I
will keep our own counsel, and go right on just
thesame. And I don’t doubt the plan will come
to me. Any way, you go to school. There,
lie down now, Rob, and go-to sleep.” She
rose, gathered up the dish and bowl that had
been shaken off the tray, and, picking up her
candle, went out, leaving the boy still sitting
erect in the bed, with starry eyes peering into
a future suddenly ablaze with hope.

Rob went down stairs early the next morning,
like a new boy. Mechanically, he went through
the chores that, under his uncle’s arrangement,
grew a little heavier each day. But this winter
morning they did not press. Rob had other
thoughts than complaining ones as he made
the kitchen fire, fed the few animals that
belonged to the dwindled farm, and accom-
plished the other things that were necessary to
set the household in running order for the day.
And when the big bell rang for breakfast, he
was surprised for once to find the meal had
come too soon for him, and he went in and
took his place, fairly aglow with light and
happiness.

“ You are late,” growled Uncle Joel, by way
of morning greeting. And then he stopped at
sight of the boy’s face. “Humph! it does you
good once in a while to go to bed without your
supper, doesn’t it?” he added with a grim
smile. “You'll try it maybe a little oftener in
the future.”

Rob kept his eyes fastened on his plate, and
the rapidly disappearing mush thereon. Some-
how he felt guilty of a piece of deception with
the knowledge of the meat pie and bowl of milk
episode.

But all other reflections were presently lost
in the charming rose-colored reverie into which
he found himself plunged, and soon he foyr-
got the existence of his uncle and aunt in

ee

‘the wild planning of his school duties and

pleasures.

“ What do you mean, sir!” at last thundered
his uncle; “T have spoken to you three times,
and you have not condescended to answer. Go
from the table at once.”

Rob looked up, all his hot young blood in his
face. A new-born feeling of self-respect made
him throw his head back and gaze at the
wrinkled, harsh face. Was he not an equal
sharer in the home privileges as well as the
angry old man who commanded him this way
and that, like a slave? He was on the point of
asserting this new independence, when a glance
at his aunt who sat erect as ever in her high-
backed chair at the end of the table, made him
suddenly pause, push back his chair, and go out
of the kitchen.

Uncle Joel proceeded with his. breakfast
leisurely, making no remark other «ian to snarl
because the eggs were overdone, and the tea
cold. But Aunt Philena took everything as a
matter of course, and made no attempt at
conversation.

“Pve about made up my mind about that
boy,” said her brother, pushing back his chair
on the conclusion of the meal, and deliberately
fastening his keen gray eyes on her. “Dm
about at the end of my patience with him.
He’s an unpromising lot, at best.”

“ He’s Mary’s boy, I suppose you remember,”
observed Miss Philena dryly.

“Hum —yes! but he’s Carter’s boy as well,
and that makes all the difference in the world,”
replied Joel crossly. “No, Philena, I’ve tried
to make something of him quite long enough.
Now he goes.”

BEHOLD THE BABE.
[» ENOLD a babe, whose sunny head
Reposes on a manger bed,
A helpless Babe, and yet a King,
Whose praise the herald angels sing,
While shepherds bow with glad surprise,
Beside the manger where He lies,
And Eastern sages come from far
To hail the rising Morning Star.
— Selected.


|

adil

Ay
V4

ae

BABY’S

CORNER.





BABY’S CORNER.

WHO TOOK CARE OF BABY?

a day inamma sat Baby Lou on the
CI

y bed and put large pillows behind her.



Then she brought some pretty play-
things and put before her, Mamma
sat down by the window and went to
sewing on a red dress for Baby.

Little Lou hugged her dolly and kissed it,
then she danced it up and down and squeezed
its head. She jingled her rattle. She bit her
ivory ring and pounded a tin cup with a spoon,
and swung her string of spools. :

At last she got tired of them all. She said
to herself: “ I will throw my tin horse on the
floor. It will make a nice bang.”

So down it went. Then she threw the string
of spools and the ring. The rattle-box went



BABY LOU.

next; all its little bells jingled as it fell, and
Baby laughed.
Should she throw dolly —her sweet dolly?

‘Yes, she must. Dolly fell on the floor with a

bump and Baby looked sorry. Now everything
was gone. She looked at mamma. She was
just going to put out her hands to beg mamma
to take her, but her eyes felt queer and her
little hands dropped down by her side. In a
second Baby was fast asleep.

“ Ah,” said mamma, “now is a good time

for me to go down stairs and iron Baby’s white
dress.”

So she went and left Little Lou alone, but
she was safe, because the dear God sends angels
to watch over babies while they sleep.

By and by Baby Lou waked up. She turned
her head to the window to look at mamma, but
no mamma was there. Her chair was empty.
Then Baby was afraid. She doubled up her
fat little hand and rubbed her eye and began
to cry.

But what was that queer little noise?

“Peep, peep, peep!”

Baby stopped crying and looked about her.
What did she see? Why, a lovely little yellow
bird hopping around on the bed.

It was Jip, who lived in a pretty cage that
hung on a nail by the window. His door had
been left open, so he came out to see Baby.
Baby did not know Jip could walk. She
opened her eyes wide and stared at him.
He picked at the threads in the spread,
then he turned his head on one side and
looked at Baby with his little round eyes.

He hopped up on the foot board at last
and sung a sweet song. Baby smiled at
him.

Mamma had some callers. They kept
her a long time, but little Lou was not
afraid, because the dear bird was with
her. ;

When mamma came in Jip was stand-
ing on Baby’s pillow, and she was talking
funny little Baby words to him.

“Good little Jip,” said mamma, “did you
take care of precious Baby? Jip shall have a
lump of sugar.”

Mrs. C. M. Livineston.

“You know Truth by being true; you recog-
nize God by being like Him.” Even a Httle
child can understand this.
HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.





HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.
By Pansy.

THE VOICE OF ONE CRYING IN THE WILDERNESS, PREPARE
YE THE WAY OF THE Lorp.

As His custom was, He WENT INTO THE SYNAGOGUE ON
THE SABBATH DAY.

As soon AS HE AD SPOKEN, IMMEDIATELY THE LEPROSY
DEPARTED FROM HIM AND HE WAS CLEANSED.

Who PORGIVETU ALL THINE INIQUITIES, WHO HEALETH
ALL THY DISEASES.

| eee moved restlessly about the room,

not seeming able to settle anything. The
little girls were ready for church, and his
mother had twice told him that he would be
late, before he made up his mind to speak:
“TI don’t believe Pll go to chureh to-day,
mother.”

“ Are you sick?” his mother asked, pausing
in the midst of her bustling about, and looking
at him anxiously.

“No, ma’am, not sick exactly, but you know
I have a cold,” he said, giving a little cough,
as if to prove his words. “I don’t feel just
like going, somehow.”

“ Well,” said Mrs. Selmser, speaking with a
little hesitation, as one who didn’t half-like
what she was going to say, “you know we like
to have all the family about us in church, and
it ought to be an important reason that keeps
one at home, but then, if you don’t feel well
enough to go, that is reason enough. You are
sure you have not a sore throat?” and she
looked at him anxiously.

“O, no, ma’am! my throat isn’t sore a bit;
it is just a cold, you know.” And again he
tried that little cough.

“Well,” said Mrs. Selmser again, “I sup-
pose you will have to stay at home. But what
will you do all the morning? Perhaps I would
better stay with you.”

“Qh! no, indeed,” Ralph said, “I wouldn’t
have you do that for anything. I can get along
all right. I’ve got a nice book to read.”

Mrs. Selmser did not look as pleased as she
might have done over this bit of news. “The
Bible is the best book to read on Sunday when
people cannot go to church,” she said gravely.

“Oh! I shall read the Bible,” Ralph an-

swered eagerly. “ I’m going to read my chapter
the first thing, and some of my marked verses,
before I open my Sunday-school book.”

“And live up to them? Reading Bible ~
verses doesn’t amount to much, you know,
unless you do what they say.”

“Why, of course,” said Ralph, but he spoke
less confidently than before. He knew enough
about the Bible to realize that it was sometimes
a hard book to live up to.

In another hour the family were all gone,
and Ralph was alone in the neat kitchen, with
the fire burning brightly, and his attractive-
looking book on his lap. He had read a few
pages in it the night before, but he did not
himself realize how much this had had to do
with his not feeling well enough to go to church.
His friend, Bennie Stone, had given it.to him
on Saturday morning, to return to the library
for him, and secure another, because he was
going to his grandmother’s to spend Sunday,
and could not do it for himself. Ralph had
not looked into the book until night, and then,
as I say, had found it delightful. All the while
he was undressing, he tried to plan how he
might read that book. He could not draw it
from the school, because it would be his turn
to-morrow to have a book for which he had
been waiting several weeks. If he let this
opportunity pass, there was no telling when he
would have another. It was just as he, was
hopping into bed, that the thought came to
him: “If I shouldn’t happen to be well
enough to go to church to-morrow morning, I-
might read it then.”

On the whole, I do not think it strange that
by morning he thought himself not very well.
The book lay on his lap, but Ralph was mind-
ful of his promise, and reached for Grandmother’s
Bible. First his chapter — he was reading the
Bible through in course. The chapter for the
day proved to be almost entirely composed of
proper names. MJalph tried to give them atten-
tion, but_could not help thinking how uninterest-
ing they were. Now, for a marked verse; he
decided that he would read only one to-day,
and that he would take it from the Gospels —
the first marked verse he saw. This was the
verse: “ As His custom was, he went into the
synagogue on the Sabbath day.” Ralph read it




OPPORTUNITY.





through twice before he began to realize what
“living up” to this verse was going to mean
to him.

Gradually the thought shaped itself in his
mind: “That verse is about Jesus, and to live
up to it, I must do as near like Him as I can.
Well, don’t I, I should like to know? When
have I stayed away from church before? A
fellow can’t go to church when he has a cold.
Disturb all the people coughing. Poh! Ralph
Selmser, what’s the use? You know you haven’t
coughed but three times this morning ; and two
of those you could have smothered if you had
wanted to. And you know if it was Monday,
and there was a coasting spree on the hill,
you would coax like a good fellow, to go, and
know forty reasons why it wouldn’t hurt you.”
Were there two people talking? Ralph felt a
little curious about it himself; they seemed to
hold such different views; but he knew this
much: both of them lived in his heart. Silence
for a few minutes, during which time Ralph
read the marked verse again. Then he rose up,
stretched himself, looked in the glass in the
clock face to make sure that his hair was all
right, and made this remark: “ It is my opinion,
Ralph Selmser, that you had better do ‘as your
custom is,’ and make for church as fast as your
legs can carry you.”

It was during the singing of the second hymn
that he slipped past his father and took.a seat
at his mother’s side. For the benefit of those
interested, I want to report that he did not
cough once during the service.

‘“« What has become of your cold?” asked his
mother after the benediction was pronounced:

“Gone,” he answered with a queer smile.
“There was a verse in Grandmother’s Bible
that cured it.”

Mrs. Selmser asked no more questions; in
some respects she was a wise woman. On the
way home from church she said she shouldn’t
wonder if mother’s Bible would be worth a
fortune to the children.



I xnow no sweeter way to heaven than
through free grace and hard trials together.
And, where grace is, hard trials are seldom
wanting.

OPPORTUNITY.

ARION was not jealous of her little
cousin ; she had smiled on her brightly
this New Year’s morning, and helped
her count the many things she had
to be glad over, and had gotten
through the first half of the hard day without
shedding atear. It was when little Lora climbed
a chair and put both chubby arms around her
mother’s neck, as she said, “ What would Lora
do without her dear, dear mamma?” that
Marion felt a great lump rise in her throat, and
had to turn away quickly to hide the tears.
Even then she was not jealous, only very, very
sad.

Let me tell you about her. Just one year
before, on New Year’s day, she had been living
in the beautiful Southland, with her father and
mother and two big brothers. The day had
been a very happy one. Marion remembered
that the New Year’s dinner had been served on
the south piazza, where the sunshine made
everything warm and bright. She remem-
bered that they had green peas for dinner,
picked that day from their own garden.

Only a year since that time, and now she was
in the frozen North alone. Father, mother,
and brothers all gone! She had not even a
relative in this country with whom she could
live.

An old friend of her father’s had sent for her,
brought her to his home, taught her to call
him uncle, and the whole family had adopted
her, and did everything they could to make her
happy. Lora had counted her that very morn-
ing as one of the “ things” she had to be glad
over. Yet I think you can understand why
she found it hard to keep back the tears.

She ran down stairs and took refuge from
gome one who was coming down the hall, in the
first room she reached. This proved to be the
refreshment room, for, as I have told you, it
was New Year’s day, and Miss Helena was re-
ceiving calls. There was no one in the room
when Marion entered, but in a moment more
two young men came from the parlor. One of
them went to the refreshment table, and began
to help himself, the other stood one side and
waited for him.


OPPORTUNITY.—THE HARD TEXT.

“Shall I pour you a cup of coffee, Nellis?”
asked his friend.

“ No, thanks; I have drank all the coffee I
care for to-day. I will wait here for you.” He
stepped nearer the deep window seat, behind
whose heavy curtains Marion had hidden her-
self. There he saw the pale little girl in a
black dress, with the tears still slowly follow-
ing one another down her cheeks. He was a
special friend of the family, and knew Marion’s
sad story, though she did not know him very
well.

“Happy New Year!” he said softly, respect-
ing her evident desire to hide. “Have you
been happy to-day ?”

Marion struggled with her tears, and tried to
control her voice, as she said, “No, sir.”

“ Not?” he said, putting a surprised tone into
his voice. ‘Isn’t that rather strange on this
first bright day of the New Year?”

She could not help feeling a little indignant.
What was a bright day to her? Of course
he did not know about her, but it seemed
to Marion as though everybody ought to know
just what a desolate little girl she was. She
turned her head a little, so she could see his
face, and said, “ This is the first New. Year’s
day I ever spent away from my father, and
mother, and brothers, and they are all dead,
and I am alone.”

The sentence had been commenced bravely,
but her poor little voice failed her before
its close, and the last word was almost a
wail. Still she made very little noise. The
gentleman at the other end of the room,
drinking coffee, and eating cake, did not hear
her at all.

“T know,” said the tall gentleman by the
window, bending forward a little, and speaking
very gently, “but there is another way to put
it: this is the first New Year’s day your father
and mother and brothers ever spent in Heaven.
They are safe and glad and happy forever, and
the reason they can be happy there without
their little daughter is because they have left
her in the care of One who is so wise and good
and great, that they know He never makes a
mistake about anything, And they know He
has promised that just as soon as the right
time comes, their daughter shall come home to

?

them to live forever. Meantime, while she is
waiting here, this great Friend whom her
parents love and serve, has a little work for her
to do. Part of it is to show people how en-
tirely she trusts Him, and that she can be cheer-
ful and happy because she knows she is in His
hands, and He has made no mistake.”

There were still tears on Marion’s face, but
she was smiling before these sentences were
concluded.

“Thank you,” she said, “I never thought of
it that way. I did not know that I ought to
be happy without them, and sometimes it made
me feel badly to think they could be happy
even in Heaven without me. I won’t ever feel
so, any more.”

“ Come, Nellis,” said the coffee-drinker, “ we
ought to be moving. We shall not get half-
way down our list at this rate.”

“ All ready,” said his friend. “Good-by!”.

This last word spoken softly to the shadow
behind the curtain; and he went away, hav-
ing used his opportunity to bind up a bruised
heart. Pansy.

THE HARD TEXT.
( The Blessed. — Matt. v. 3-9.)

A LITTLE boy was once distressed over

these seven verses because they seemed
to describe seven different persons with a
different promise and some of the promises
not so good as others. One especially,
“ They shall inherit the earth,” seemed to
him very nice. “But what’s all the earth,”
he asked, “if one hasn’t any heaven?” At
last the thought came to him: “ What if
these seven verses are all about the same per-
sons? What if they are a picture of God’s
Child? What if Jesus has painted it for me to
look at and study and try to be like?” His
distress gave way to peace and joy. Jesus
seemed to be looking out of that dear picture
and whispering, “ My child, I want you to be
poor in spirit, to be merciful, to be pure in
heart, to be a peacemaker and much more,
Study this picture at hom, in school, every-
where ; I want to make you like it.”














NELLIE AYEUS AND TER GRAY-EYED CAT



Rt eee anene erences nearer runnin ay oe


NOB: A STORY FOR BOYS.

= =

ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.
By MarGarrr SipNey.
CUAPTER Ul.

E goes away,” said Joel Slocum again,
[ with a long look into bis sister’s face.

Miss Philena drew her breath hard.
Once she unfolded her thin lips as if to
say something, then, thinking better of
it, shut them again, and a dead silence fell
between the two.

“T shall go over and make the necessary ar-
rangements with Barker to-day,” observed Joel
after the pause had lasted so long that the tick-
ing of the old clock pursued them with a sense
of discomfort; “he’s ready to take him any
time, only I didn’t want to bind him over till
Vd given him more chances to behave himself
there. But the boy’s beyond me; I can’t man-
age him, I’m free to confess. And you— well,
Philena, you’ve taken away what little hope
there was of his being anything. THe’s just got
the upper hands of you. That’s plain enough
to see.”

“Are you going to bind that boy out to
Jedediah Barker ?”’ demanded Miss Philena in
a shrill gust, and starting forward in her chair
to fix her keen black eyes on the irritated face
before her. ‘ What— Mary’s boy ?”

“Indeed Iam!” cried Joel flatly, and throw-
ing all the defiance possible to his nature up to
meet the black eyes, under whose steady gaze
he quailed inwardly. “And it’ll be the making
of the boy. Barker runs the best farm in the
county, and there the youngster will learn how
to work properly, and get some wholesome dis-
cipline, a thing he’s never had here, to teach
him steady habits.”

“You seem to forget that along with Jede-
diah Barker’s reputation for the finest farm in
the country, has gone the other report of his
cruelty to his work-people, and his stingy, close
ways. If all is true that is told of him, it isn’t
the place to trust a dog in, let alone 2 boy —
and our Mary’s boy.”

“You are forever harping on ‘our Mary’s
boy,’ ” cried Joel sharply, and turning off on his
heel to pace to the window. “A boy is a boy,



whether he was Mary’s or some other woman’s.
And don’t I know what’s better for the proper
training of one than you who’ve sat in the
chimney corner all your life— and let things
go to rack and ruin, pray tell? Rob isn’t going
to be hurt over there to Barker’s. The man

wouldn’t dare to do him harm, seeing he’s our

relation. And he will learn that life isn’t made
up of lazy truckling to an uncle and aunt who
let him have his own head, because it’s too
much trouble to do anything else with him. I
shall see Barker to-day.”

He came back to stand in front of his sister.
When she looked at him, she knew that it was
well to change her tactics. For once Joel
would do as he said.

“ Who’s going to do the work here?” she

asked, as if this were the chief obstacle to
providing a place for Rob.

“Pye got that all planned,” said her brother,
with a triumphant laugh. “It’s been all settled
for weeks that whenever I bound Rob out, I
should take one of Barker’s boys that he hasn’t
much use for.”

“Oh!” Miss Philena repressed the shiver
that came creeping over her. A cruel fate
seemed desperately near to closing around
Rob. She must work quickly. Even as this
truth flashed through her, she experienced a
delightful thrill at the novelty of being called
upon for prompt executive action.

“Well, if you’ve made up your mind to do
it,’ she managed to say carelessly, “why, of
course you must, that’s all. But remember, he
don’t go to Barker’s with my consent.”

“ All right. He goes without it, then,” said
Joel, with an unpleasant langh. And though
astonished at her quick relinquishing of Rob’s
cause, he was nevertheless gratified at the pros-
pect of losing the wordy entanglement that had
threatened him. And, manlike, as soon as every-
thing was made smooth for the quick execution
of his idea, he began to think there was not so
much need to take the long drive that morning.

“Pll put you up a lunch,” said his sister
presently, getting out of her chair, “You'll
be gone all day, I s’pose,” and she disappeared
into the buttery.

“T @no as I shall go over there to-day, after
all,” said Joel, going to the small window, and
ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.



aquinting at the clouds. “It looks like rain.
It does rain now,” as a few drops fell aslant
the little panes.

Miss Philena drew a long breath in her safe
eorner behind the buttery door, and clasped
her hands. Providence was tender, after all,
ard the boy might be saved.

“T ghall drop a line to Barker and let him
know I am going to-morrow,” said Joel, turning
off to the tall secretary in the corner. “ After
all, that’s best ; but I'll go to-morrow, rain or no
rain, for I’m determined to have it over with.”

“« All right,” said Miss Philena, coming out
-of the buttery, “then Pll do up my dishes.”

Tl] have the lunch early in the morning,”
said Joel, hunting for a pen in the little drawer,
“ for I shall be off in good time, so’s to be home
‘before dark.” ,

His sister vouchsafed no reply, but set up a
rattling among the breakfast things that showed
her mind intent on her morning work.

Uncle Joel, unaccustomed to letter-writing,
soon forgot, in the pangs the present one was
causing him, the presence or absence of another,
and the kitchen had been deserted for a half
hour or so, when he looked around, and missing
his sister, called out, “ Philena! say, Philena!”

“What do you want?” said a voice in the
upper hall.

“ Where are you?” he answered, not getting
out of his chair.

“Up-stairs doing my work. Pm going to
look over some things in the garret. May be up
there an hour. Do you want anything?”

“No,” he called back. He had wanted to
ask her if there were two ¢’s in necessary,
but reflecting that a woman was apt to be a
trifle tart when called from her feminine occupa-
tions, he concluded that it was better to risk the
spelling and let her alone. So he put in two
to be on the safe side, and escape the charge of
nigeardliness with his letters. :

“What in the name of sense she’s doing
looking over things in that garret, passes me,”
he muttered. “She’s forever at it,” which was
quite true. Miss Slocum, missing much of the
enjoyment that falls to other women, found it
in the excitement of living in the past, always
produced by a temporary sojourn among the
battered hats, unused garments and old furni-

ture of a by-gone generation, reposing in the
garret of the homestead. So as she was going
to be up there, Joel dismissed her from his
thoughts, and his letter being at last completed,
he went out to proceed to the village centre to
post it.

Miss Philena watched him from the cob-
webbed garret window, and throwing down the
moth-caten pantaloons she was examining,
seized a small leather bag she had laid carefully
on the lid of the chest from which she had
drawn it, and hurried over the stairs and out to
the barn.

“ Rob,” she said, with a short metallic click
to each syllable, “ you mustn’t ask any questions,
because there isn’t any time to answer them.
Tl tell you everything you need to know.
Your uncle is going to bind you out to-morrow
to Jedediah Barker unless I save you. But I
can’t unless you do exactly as I tell you.” She
laid her hand on his arm now.

“Hush! don’t speak,” as he straightened up,
the axe with which he was chopping the gnarled.
sticks falling to his side, “every minute is
precious. He may be home soon. Listen!
You run right up garret as quick as you can.
There’s a pair of pantaloons lying on the chest
by the window. They were your uncle’s when
he was your size. J meant to give em to you
before, but he thought you better wait awhile.
Get into ’em as fast as you can and put on
your Sunday jacket, then come to me.”

Rob, with wide eyes, sprang off, and was soon
back, throwing on the coat as he ran, although
it seemed an age to Miss Philena, sitting on an
old log with her gray woollen skirt picked up
around her.

“Now, Rob,” she said, getting up as he
dashed into the old barn, “you are to go to
Mary Ellis’ over in Notting, you understand,
and give her this note.” Miss Philena picked
it out of her gray woollen waist and set it
within the brown hand. “ You must do exactly
as she tells you in everything. I don’t tell you
what you are going to do, or where you are
going, remember, but whatever she says will be
right. Your part is just to obey. Now, here,”
she drew out of her ample pocket the leather
bag and thrust it into bis hand. “I can’t stop
to sew it into your clothes, because I’m afraid
BEN-HADAD’S FIRST CHRISTMAS.





he’ll be home, but Mary will do it for you.
It’s money; be careful of it.”

“ Money!” ejaculated Rob, his eyes starting
out. He had never held money in his life, ex-
cept a few cents at a time, when entrusted with
an errand at the baker’s or grocer’s. And this
bag seemed quite heavy.

“Hush!” warned his aunt, her finger on her
lips; “don’t speak, but go, and God bless you!”

With a sudden movement, she laid her angu-
lar hand on the boy’s thick crop of brown hair.
“Don’t you ever do a thing you wouldn’t have
wished your mother to know.”

Rob set on his well-worn cap with an unsteady
hand, then looked up at hig aunt. “IJ should
like to kiss you,” he said; “I never have, you
know.”



“BACK TO HER MOTHER’S NEGRO CABIN.”

For answer Aunt Philena’s long arms sud-
deniy gathered him up, then as abruptly she
pushed him off. “Go!” and she disappeared
within the house.

tob heard with dazed ears the shuffling tread
of his uncle coming down the road, and slipping
the bag into his pocket, he skulked out of the
back door, being careful to keep within the
shadow of the barn till a friendly thicket
received him from view.

els

BEN-HADAD’S FIRST CHRISTMAS.
PART IL.

FTER that the choir marched out,
singing as they went, and Ben-Hadad,
turning to give a good-by look to the
Madonna and the Child, went out, too.

On the way home he kept his eyes
open, as he had promised to do, for some un-
comfortable person to invite to his Christmas
feast. Just as he was turning the last corner,
he came upon a little colored girl, a ragged

shawl wrapped about her, leaning against a

stone wall, right in the snow, and fast asleep.

She must be having pleasant dreams, Ben-Hadad

thought, for she was smiling in a way that did

not seem to indicate that

she was uncomfortable.

“But she must be
awfully cold,” said Ben,
“and she will freeze if
she stays there asleep.
I think,” he added re-
flectively, “that she is
one of the ‘least.’ Any-
how, ’m going to wake
her up.”

This was no sooner
said than done. The
girl, roused from her
slumber, sleepily cried,
“Heah you, Jawge
Washin’ton!”

Ben-Hadad laughed.
“Tm not George Wash-



darky, noticing the
strange voice, opened her
eyes and stared at him.

“Tt is cold,” he said. “Tf you stay here
asleep, you will freeze. Haven’t you any place
to stay?”

The girl nodded and arose slowly. “I
reckon I kin fin’ a bar’l, or I kin get took up,
nohow.”

Ben-Hadad, not being acquainted with that
class of people whose comfort while sleeping
depends upon their being “took up” by a
policeman for vagrancy, did not understand

at
ington,” he said, and the

Nine
vag

BEN-HADAD’S FIRST CHRISTMAS.

the girl’s plan of lodging in the lock-up, and
was satisfied.

“ Look here!” he said, “are you uncomfort-
able ?”

His new acquaintance laughed. “ Dishyeah
niggah,” she observed, “ don’t git much else.”

Without attempting to parse her sentence,
Ben-Hadad resolved that she was eligible to a
place at his feast, and proceeded,—

“Do you know to-morrow is Christmas ? ”

“JT reckon.”

“ Tfow are you going to celebrate ?”

“Do know.”

“Well, if you want something to eat, and a
chance to get warm, you come around to my
house at six o’clock to-morrow evening to a
Christmas party. Will you?”

His acquaintance was grinning now, having

gotten over her astonishment sufficiently during
the early part of his invitation.
“Dishyeah nigegah will be dere, ef she ain’t
dead nor froze.” And Ben-Hadad taking this
as un nssurance that she “would be happy to
accept,” pointed out his home, and then made
all speed for it, for Mother Hadad was at the
door, lamp in hand, looking anxiously up the
street for him.

« Mother,” he said, “Pye got my other one;
and such singing as I heard! It sounded like
the angels’ song, only it wasn’t ‘Good-will
toward men.’” ;

“Tt is all good-will toward men,” said Mother
Hadad, as she bent over and kissed his forchead,
“whatever belongs to Christmas. That is what
our party is going to be.”

Christmas morning dawned beautiful and
bright, although the air was still very cold, and
the snow had not melted at all. Before the
sun had had time to warm the air, or to make
the little icicles drop their tears of disgust on
the pavement, Ben-Hadad had gone around to
get Mr. Sanborn’s Christmas present. And
lo! it had turned out to be a turkey instead of
a chicken, all dressed and stuffed, and some
apple-pies and doughnuts! How splendid this
would be, thought the young host, for their
party. For although he had hung up _ his
stocking with suecess, and had received some
delightful Christmas presents, nothing gave him
so much pleasure as the thought of the coming

feast. Uncle Flatiron had been invited and
had gruffly consented to come. Ben-Hadad
feared only that his dark-skinned guest would
not be there.

“You will have to go ont in the highways
and hedges for a substitute,” said Mother
Hadad, “if she doesn’t, but I have no doubt
she will appear.”

“ Mother,” said Bennie, “the birds are here
again, and they look hungrier than they did
yesterday.”

Mother Hadad came to the window to look
at the five little sparrows who were huddled
together on one limb of the lonesome tree.

“ Poor things!” she said; “they are uncom-
fortable.”

This gave Ben-Hadad an idea.

“QO, mother! mayn’t I invite them to my
party?”

Mother Iladad Jaughed — her little laugh that
reminded one of the ripple of a shady brook ;
one that could come from smooth water, but
from dashing against little stones.

. “Yes,” she said. “Only they will be asleep

by the time it begins. You will have to give
them a special course beforehand. They are
thinking of starting for a warm place now, to
judge from their looks.”

“ Then I will have to hurry and invite them,”
said Ben-Hadad. “TI will give them bread-
erumbs and cake-crumbs, too, seeing it’s the
party. They caw’t have as much of a variety
as the rest, can they? Do you suppose they
would like some turkey, mother?”

“JT don’t think you would better try them,”
said Mother Hadad, smiling. “They will be
perfectly satisfied with a simple bill of fare.”

When the birds had been to their party,
which they attended gratefully, and had eaten
their erumbs quickly and silently, not talking
about them at all, and had flown awar; when
the stars had begun to peep out just a little,
bashfully, and some stray snowflakes were
strageling around, looking for a place to spend
the night, Ben-[adad stood at the window, and
opening it a little, put his head out te look for
his guests.

“ Mother,” he said, not drawing it in as he
spoke, “I wish I conld have a Christmas plum-
pudding for our party.”
BEN-HADAD’S FIRST CHRISTMAS.



“You do?” asked a deep voice right at his
ear, and turning with a start, his eyes met the
twinkling ones of a young gentleman in a big
overcoat, just going around the corner, with his
arnis full of bundles.

“You do?” the voice repeated. “And
what do you want of a plum-pudding ?”

Ben-Hadad looked embarrassed. “I was
speaking to mother,” he said. ‘But I wanted
the pudding for our party.” '

“Do you usually put your head out of the
window when you want to speak to your
mother? What kind of a party are you going
to have? Who are coming? And what do
you want of a plum-pudding ?”

Ben-Hadad could not help looking astonished
at the man who asked so many questions, and
thought he was a little impolite, but answered
meekly : —

“ Tt is a Christmas party, sir, and only Uncle
Flatiron and a colored girl are coming. They
are two of the ‘least,’ you know — the most
disagreeable and the most uncomfortable persons
that I know. And I only wanted a plum-pud-
ding because they most always have them on
Christmas.”

The man with the big overcoat seemed very
much interested. We laid his packages on the
window-sill, and asked questions about Uncle
Flatiron and the colored girl, and why they
had been invited, and what they were going to
have to eat. When Ben-Hadad told about the
bird’s party, he laughed very loud.

“ Well,” he said, “that is quite an idea. If
I come around and call, when you have had
supper, will you mind ?”

“Oh! no, indeed,” said Ben-Hadad, trying
to think whether there would be chairs enough
in the parlor. Just then his mother came into
the room.

“ Ben-Hadad,” she said severely, “have you
left that window open all this time? What
are you doing?”



“Tam talking to a man with a big overcoat,
that is asking me questions about the party.
He” —

“Well, good-night,” said the man. “A
merry Christmas to you! Perhaps J’ll come
_ around.”

“Tt is right in you to be civil to strangers,”

said Mother Hadad, “ but not to keep the win-
dow open and make the room cold.”

Very soon afterward Uncle Flatiron came,
and a little later Ben-Hadad’s dusky guest, in a
brilliant costume of a red shawl and a yellow
turban, both of which appeared to have beer
picked out of an ash-heap, and bore the marks
of their late residence. While the guests were
being seated and made comfortable, there came
a knock at the front door, and a man who had
just jumped out of a cart. and wanted to get
back to it, handed Ben-Hadad a package, and
saying only, “Paid!” hurried away. Mother
Hadad opened the parcel out on the table, and
behold! it contained an English plum-pudding,
piping hot, just from the bakery. On it was a
card, saying in fine hand writing : —

FOR THE CHRISTMAS PARTY.

From
The “Man with the Big Overcoat.”

My story is already too long, and if I would,
I could not tell you all abont that party. Te
say that none of those present had ever at-
tended such a unique gathering before, would be
little. To say that none of them had ever had
such a good time before, would be but part of

the truth. To be sure, Uncle Flatiron growled

a great deal, but that was only to be expected,
and the unbounded delight of “Sa Yan,” as the
colored girl had introduced herself, who cared
to do little but sit in a corner by the fire and
grin, made up for all lack of good-feeling on the
part of any one else. The turkey and the
cranberries and the apple-pie and the dough-
nuts and the plum-pudding all seemed to do
their very best to be good for Ben-Tadad’s
Christmas feast, and Uncle Flatiron and Sa’ Yan
both did their part to dispose of them. Candy
and nuts were passed around, and then Father
Hadad, who had been as much surprised as
anybody at the party, played checkers with
Uncle Flatiron, because then the old man did
not have to try to hear anything, and Mother
Hadad sat down and talked to Sa’Yan, and
Ben-Hadad flitted about with a beaming face,
the happiest one of the company, smiling on
all the rest.

Just as a game of checkers was finished, snd

ro
BEN-HADAD’S FIRST CHRISTMAS.



there was a lull in the conversation, there came
another knock at the door; when it was opened,
who should stand there but the Man with the.
Big Overcoat, and leaning on his arm a beauti-
ful lady, whom he introduced to Mother Hadad
as his sister, saying they had come to make a
eall on “the party,” to wish them a merry
Christmas !

Mother Hadad showed them chairs, and Ben-
Hadad told how much obliged they were for
the plum-pudding, but right in the middle of
one of his sentences he stopped, for he had
been looking at the sister of the Man with the
Big Overcoat, and had discovered that she was
the lady who had sung in the church the night
before! Then Uncle Flatiron was heard growl-
ing because nobody would talk so he could
hear. it

The young man went over and talked with
him, roaring so loud that the rest of them could
hardly hear themselves think ; but Uncle Flat-
iron became almost good-natured,

Pretty soon the Man with the Big Overcoat
suggested that they should have some music,
and asked his sister: to sing for them. Then
how gladly Ben-Hadad’s heart beat! Ie hoped
she would sing what she had the night before.
As she arose, he listencd eagerly for the first
words.

They were these: —

“QO little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie!

Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by.”

How glad he was that he had the beautiful
singer to sing at his party !

Then the Man with the Big Overcoat asked
Sv’VYan what she could sing; she said “Glory,
Mallclujah!” Te said that was about all he
eould sing, and started it. How the old words
rang through the air! For the young man sang
as loud as he could, and his sister sang, and
Father and Mother Hadad sang, and Sa’Yan
thought she was back in her mother’s negro
eabin, and rocked back and forth in the chair
by the fire, her turban and eyes gleaming in
the weird light. In fact they all sang except
Uncle Flatiron, and he growled quite a pleas-

2
ant growl; so much pleasanter than any he
had growled for a long time that the angels
who were listening, I think, counted him as
singing, too.

Then the Man with the Big Overcoat said he
had a big sleigh around the corner, and would
respectfully invite the party to take a Chirist-
mas sleigh-ride. Everybody said Yes. When
they had wrapped themselves up the sleigh was
at the door, and they all piled in, and were tucked
in by fur robes. The Man with the Big Over-
coat sat on the front seat with his sister, and
next came Mother Hadad and Sa’Yan, and be-
hind, Father Ifadad and Unele Flatiron, with
Ben-Iladad between them.

It was a beautiful night. The stars had all
come out bravely now, although they were
quite outshone by the full moon. And the
snow was so crisp and hard, and the sleigh
went so smooth and fast behind the big horses,
and the bells jing!ed so merrily! And I record
it now, for the interest of future generations,
that during the entire ride, Unele Flatiron gave
not one single growl!

Back again at the TIadads’ home, the Man
with the Big Overcoat took Ben-Hadad aside
and showed him awarm shawl, and an overcoat
almost as big as his, that he wanted him to
present, one to Sv’Yan, the other to Uncle
Flatiron, in the name of The Party. Then he
and his sister started to leave, but Father
Hadad motioned them back, and rose.

“Tt is growing late,” he said (this was a mild
way of putting it! Didu’t he know it had
been growing late all the time?), “and the
party must break up. We hope you have had
a pleasant time; we thank those who have
tried to make it more pleasant, and have so
well succeeded. We trust you have all had a
very merry Christmas, and wish you a very
happy New Year.”

That was a long speech for Father Hadad to
make. IJ£ Ben-Hadad had not insisted upon it,
T do not think he would have made it. The
young host sat over by his mother, still smiling
on every one.

“ Mother,” he whispered, “hasn’t it been
nice? Don’t you think it has been a real good-

- will-toward-men party?”

“Listen,” said his mother, for answer. For
HUNGRY VISITORS.

=
the Man with the Big Overcoat was standing
up to speak.

“JT want to thank you all,” said he, “for the
way in which my sister and I have been re-
ceived at the party, and to say a word about
how nearly I think it has succeeded in being a
true Christmas one. For the real spirit of
Christinas is that of the angels’ song, ‘ Glory to
God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-will
toward men.’ If Iam not mistaken that has been
what your hosts have been trying to make this.
Whoever shows love for the poorest of men
gives glory to God, for His Son has said, ¢ In-
asmuch as ye did it unto one of the least of
these my brethren, ye have done it unto me,
Whatever inakes them Jess unhappy is more of
Tis peace on earth; whoever does them a kind-
ness is working out that for which the Star
shone, the angels sang, the Christ-child came

— good-will toward men. So let us go out to-
night with the idea that we wil: make the com-
ing New Year a Christmas one, in that we shall
live in the spirit of this wonderful day.

“And now in bidding you good-by, let me
repeat what my sister has sung to you : —



“No ear may hear His coming,
But in this world of sin,

Where meek souls will receive Him still,
The dear Christ enters in.

Where children pure and happy
Pray to the blessed Child,

Where misery cries out to thee
Son of the Mother mild,

Where Charity stands watching,

And Faith holds wide the door,
The dark night wakes, the glory breaks,
. And Christmas comes once more.”

PaRANETE.



HUNGRY

VISITORS.

he
HER

HER MOTITER’S BIBLE.

By Pansy.

Tr ANY MAN UWATH EARS TO WEAR, LET HIM HEAR.

(Go HOME TO THY FRIENDS, AND TELL THEM HOW GREAT
THINGS THE Loup HATH DONE FOR THEE, AND HATH HAD
COMPASSION ON TILE.



Di Nor APRAID, ONLY BELIEVE.
AND THEY WENT OUT AND PREACHED TILAT MEN SHOULD
REPENT.

H° 1” said Raiph, pausing over a verse
that was heavily marked with blue ink,
“this isa little bit of a fellow, and it doesn’t
seem to say anything. Grandma marked it,
though, as if she thought it was made of gold,”

“What is the verse?” Mrs. Selmser asked,
with a somewhat unsteady voice; there came
to her just then a memory of her dear old
mother bending over the golilen verses, getting
wealth from them; and it made her heart ache
so for a sight of the mother’s face, that it
seemed for a few minutes as though she could
not wait any longer.

« It is ‘Be-not-afraid-only-believe,” said Ralph,
running the words together as though they were
one, and making only a comma at the close.

se Why, that is a lovely verse, I am sure.”

“Well, it doesn’t say anything; doesn’t finish,
you know. What is a fellow to believe?”

“A boy who belongs to the Lord can use the
verse in a great many ways. I heard a minis-
ter say once it was a blank check, ready to use
for any sum that wasneeded. Believe that God
will take care of you anywhere, no matter what
happens. Don’t you sce ad

« Y-e-s’-m,” Ralph said, with a slow drawl,
«but then I don’t understand such wholesale
verses very well; its short, though, and Pm
going to take it for mine.”

All day Jong he didn’t give the verse a
thoneht.
and was bright and happy ; whistling most of
the time when alone, and forgetting that there
was sneha thing as trouble in the world, or that

Ie was busy in school, and at home,

he had oceasion for anybody’s help. Tlowever,
he sneceeded in offending three boys younger
than himself who were generally in mischief of
some sort. They planned a bit of mischief for
this particular day, which Ralph discovered in
time, and spoiled. They were very angry

MOTHER’S BIBLE.

ad
about it, and promised to “ be even with him.”
Ralph laughed, aud whistled, and wondered
what the chaps thought they could do.

By dark he found out.

It was Ralph’s duty to close the windows of
the schoolrooms, after they had been swept and
dusted, see that all was in order for the night,
and close the heavy doors that locked with
spring locks. We was whistling through the
hall, attending to his work, just as twilight was
falling; the sweeper had been delayed, and it
was later than usual. Three empty coal hods
stood by the door of the coal cellar. Ralph
swung them all over his arm, it being his duty
to leave them in the cellar. First he took the
precaution to fasten back the heavy outside
door lest a gust of wind might blowit shut. It
fastened with a chain and hasp, so no wind
could possibly loosen it; then he went swiftly
down the stcep stairs, whistling, “See the con-
quering hero comes.”

“No, he doesn’t!” murmured a low voice

“ He goes, but he doesn’t ‘come’ so
quickly as he thinks.

outside.
Now, Jim, is your time ;
swing to the door; there’s nobody in sight.”
And Jim pushed, keeping Rob back with one
hand, lest he should rattle the chain and give
Ralph warning in time to escape.

The door closed with a dull thud that stopped
the whistling below. Ralph was just ready to
spring up the steps into daylight again, The
minute he heard that thud, he knew that he
was a prisoner; though how the door had got-
ten loose he could not imagine. It wasn’t a
pleasant prospect for a boy, this being shut
into a great dark cellar, with stone walls and
rats for company; feeling pretty certain that
the long night would have to wear away, and
perhaps a great part of the next day before he
would be discovered.

In fact it might be several days; for he re-
membered with sudden terror that it was Fri-
day night, and the eellar need not be entered
again, probably would not be until Monday.
What should he do?. Which turn ?
Would it be possible for him to live in that
damp, dark spot until he was found? Could he
hope to make noise enouch to attract the atten-
tion of any passer-by? But that was folly ;
the building stood back from the read, in

way

the
HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.







centre of large grounds, and the cellar was at
the back part of the building.

It was then and there, sitting on the lowest
step of the cellar stairs, with his elbows on his
knees, and his head in his hands, that Ralph
thought again of the marked verse: “ Be not
> He was afraid; he
owned it to himself. Vere the words for him?

If he only knew wha to believe! He wished
he had talked longer with his mother about it.
He did believe in the great God, and wanted
to be his servant. But was he expected to
believe that God would plan some way to get
him out of that cellar that night? “How
could He!” said poor Ralph to himself. “No-
body comes to the buildings nights, let alone
the cellars. [ve just got to stay here, of course;
but, O dear, it is dreadful! what will mother
think? They will allbe scared; and they won't
know where to look for me, because I ran home,
between times, while I was waiting for the dust-
ing, and J didn’t tell them I’d got to go back
to the schoolhouse. They will think i’m in the
river, and they’ll go to dragging it and have
an awful time; and here I am in this dreadful
cellar! O, dear! I wish I knew what to believe.”

His mother’s voice seemed to sound in his
ears: “ Believe that God will take care of you
anywhere, no matter what happens.” Those
were the very words she said. Did he believe
it? If he did, why was he afraid? minutes passed, which seemed like hours to
Ralph, then he got down on the coal grimed
floor and prayed this prayer: —

“Dear Lord, ’m in awful trouble; I never
was before, but this is awful! I can’t help
being some afraid. But I believe in Thy power
to keep me safe, even here. O, Lord! take
eare of me, and comfort mother, for Jesus’
sake. Amen!”

You will notice that his faith was not strong
enough to pray to be let out of the cellar. He
believed that to be such an exceedingly improb-
able thing as to be almost impossible.

Yet, as the long slow minutes dragged along,
he heard a sound, and started up and listened
as for his life. Was itrats? No,it came from
overhead. Was it burglars? Then would
they come to the cellar, and finding him, kill
him? The cold sweat stood in great drops on

afraid, only believe”

the poor boy’s face. ‘The heavy door was cer-
tamly being tampered with; he heard the
grating of a key in the lock; he heard it slowly
swing back on its hinges; he saw the glimmer
of alantern. Should he try to hide? No, he
wouldn’t ; instead, he almost laughed aloud in
his sudden relief. The tall form of Professor
Fordham was coming down the stairs.

“Tt?s only me, Professor,” he shouted, as the
startled gentleman paused half-way down; “ it’s
only me, Ralph Selmser. I got shut in; but
how came you to come and let me out?”

“ What does all this mean?” said the Pro-

fessor, setting down his lantern. Then there
were explanations to make. When Ralph had
told as much as he knew of his own story,
Professor Fordham said he had been called to
the coal cellar to look at a flue that the janitor
thought needed attention ; that he had stooped
down on his hands and knees to examine it, and
that when he reached home he missed a pocket-
book that was filled with important papers ;
not finding it anywhere else, he had thought of
the coal cellar, and came at once to look for it.

And Ralph, as he hunted about by the light
of the lantern, and finally picked up the lost
book, said in an awe-stricken tone: “How easy
He did it! And I thought He couldn't!”

“ Did what, my boy?” asked the Professor.

Then Ralph’s pale face flushed a little, as he
said, “I was just thinking out loud, Professor.
You see I thought the Lord would take care of
me here, all night, but I didn’t believe he could
plan any way to let me out, before morning,
anyhow, and he did it just as easy! Mother
will think that it all came about through Grand-
mother’s verses; and maybe it did. I’m afraid
mother is awfully scared. What time is it,
Professor Fordham ?”

“A little after six ;” said the Professor, and
Ralph in great astonishment owned that he
thought it was about midnight.

Then they walked home; but I believe you
will be glad to hear that Professor Fordham
said, when he left Ralph, “ We must look inte
this matter. Doors that are chained back don’t
close without hands. I saw three boys skulking
about where they ought not to be, and have
my suspicions; to-morrow we will see what we
can discover.”

4


HIEF FOUND ovT.



4 THIEE FOUSD OUT.




ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.





ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.

By MarGarrer SipNey.

CHAPTER Iv.



iS y
a \ af ARY ELLIS was taking out her bread
zy Al from the oven. The rosy cheeks

bending over the steaming loaf were

“a ‘y not marks of the morning’s busy work

alone; there was the flush of expec-

taney, and a gentle excitement shone in the

brown eves. Any one who had not been told,

could easily liave guessed that Miss Fis had
some anticipated delight in store.

“There, that’s done,” she eried, hurrying
over tu the table with her burden of swect
loaves, “thank fortune. Everything favors me,
and I do verity believe that I shall get started
to Eliza’s by one o’clock.”

Thereupon tue tity kitchen resounded to a
merry din as Maury hurried from one task to
another, ler mind pleasantly intent on the
‘outing before her, her fingers mechanically per-
forming their ne

eis two whole years since Pve- been to
Eliza Smith’s,” she ran on to herself, “and if I
-dow’t go this week, why, it will be another
twelvemonth, like enough, before I start. Lucky
that everybody is well, and that father and the
boys will let me vif; and I don’t believe it will
‘storm, so I am ‘really and truly, as the chi
dren say, going to have a good time.”

«“Tliza Smith’s,” over in Grafton, the other
side of the hill, a good ten-mile drive, was the
Eden to which Miss Ellis’ eyes always turned
whenever she was so presumptuous as to think
of a vacation. It was the home of an old
schoolmate, who from pinafore days, had grown
up to that girlish intimacy with Mary that en-
utled her to be the sharer of all those delicious
seevets fondly supposed to belong to young
ladies alone, and since the two ladies were
now arrived at the age of thirty years, with
no diminution of their friendship, it was fair
to suppose thatit was worth keeping, and really
merited an occasional interchange of visits.

For the past two years, as Mary had re-
marked to herself, she had been disappointed
for one reason and another, and kept from the

: es
longed-for visit she intended to ‘pay at least
onee a year, But now after many attempts it
was at last within her grasp, and she could set
out with a clear conscience, as everything in
the way of provisions was baked up for the
three days she intended to stay away from
home.

With one eye on the clock, Mary bustled
away, reflecting that everything was so far
along in the work that she could soon press out
the vambric ruffles in the neck and sleeves of
her brown merino dress. She had slipped an
iron on to the stove for that purpose, and in a
few moments she was preparing to run up-stairs
to get the gown. Her hand was on the latch,
when she heard a step in the little entry, then
some one stepped into the kitchen.

“Why, Rob Ferris!” she cried, “how you
scared me.”

“IT knocked,” said Rob, “but you didn’t
hear me, so I came in.”

Iie was trembling from suppressed excite-
ment. His eyes shoue like siars, and his hands
twitched in bis cforts to control them.

“What's the matter?” demanded Miss Ellis,
her hand falling from tlie latch, as she surveyed
him exhaustively. “Goodness, Rob, there
hasn’t anything happened to Miss Philena!”

“No,” said the boy. tead that; she sent
it,” and he thrust a folded paper ipto Miss
Eillis’s outstretched palm.

Mary took it wonderingly, and read the
words written in Miss Philena’s cramped hand-
writing at least chree times. Strange te
say it was not tl after she looked up that it
flashed upon her what the request contained in
the note meant to her.

“T can’t do it!” Then she cried passion-
ately, “It’s out of the question.” Then she bit
her lips and coughed as she looked at the boy.
“Well, Rob, you sit down,” she said at last,
kindly; “Pl be back in a minute,” and skipping
over the flat stone that served as a door-step
like a girl, she ran into the barn.

“John— John!” she called at the foot of
the crooked stairs leading up to the loft,
“come down here — do!”

“What’s up?” demanded John, peering
down at her, and pausing in his occupation of
filling a bag with oats,



Â¥
ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.



Godeea os



“Tio come down,” cried Mary impatiently,

and in her excitement crumpling up a letter
she held in her hand— ‘John, it is the most
dreadful thing!”

John dropped the bag and set down the oat-
measure to get over the stairs quickly. Mary
threw berself on the work-bench and silently
put the letter into his hand.

“Whew!” he whistled as he acvomplished
the last word. ‘Well, what are yon going to
do about it, Mary?”

“Stay at home, of course,” said Mary discon-
solately. “The boy must be gotten over to
Freeburg. I’ve got to give up going to Eliza’s.”

“You can’t,” declared John sympathetically.

«JI must,” said Mary, clasping her hands
tightly together to keep a rush of disappointed
words from utterance, and swinging one foot
irritably. “You'll have to take the horse and
carriage and carry him to Freeburg, instead of
driving me to Grafton. There’s no other way.
Now don’t let us talk any more about it.”

John obediently shut his lips fast and waited
for her plan which he knew would he forthcom-
ing presently, and he was not disappointed.
Mary, accustomed to arrange matters of import-
ance for the household, now rapidly lent herself
to the re-adjustment of the journey her brother
was to take, and then she launched into a dis-
cussion of the trouble at the Slocums’ that had
caused all this change of plans,

“To think of binding out that boy to Job
Barker!” she began in a hushed voice. . “ Joel
Slocum must be going down hill pretty fast to
eome to that.”

“The old scoundrel!” cried John between
his tecth. “Mary, there isn’t much loud talk
about, it, “cause Barker is a man of means, and
awfully smartin his farming ; but it’s whispered
around that Jim Bentley — the boy he brought
home from New York State— has been beaten
terribly. The neighbors complained; they get
nervous, folks say, hearing the noise, and know-
ing there’s brutality at work.”

Mary’s cheek flushed with womanly indigna- -

tion. “The brute—oh! to think of Joel

Slocum being determined to let him get Rob.”
“J don’t really suppose Slocum knew any-

thing of the talk about Barker,” said John.
“Well, he ought to,” retorted Mary, with

spirit, “before he bound out a poor defenseless
boy Into his clutches, and that boy bis nephew.”

“Well, Mary,” said her brother slowly, “if
I were you, I'd set to work to get him,” point
ing with his thumb to the house, “over to Free-
burg; then you can sit and talk comfortable.”

“Yowre right, John,” cried Mary, springing
to her feet and swallowing asigh at the thonght
of Eliza Smith’s expectations changed to woe.
* You get ready, and PU put your lunch up,”
aud she sped into the house.

Rob was pacing the kitchen floor, restless
with excitement. He stopped as she came in,
and looked at her, all his heart in his eyes.

“ Rob,” said Mary, going up to him and taking
his hand, “ your Aunt Philena says we are to get
you over to Freeburg, see you on board the
cars, under the care of the conductor, and that
he will put you off at Parkersville, where her
cousin Hetty Slocum lives; she married a
Russell —William Russell — and your aunt feels
that they will do the right thing by you. She
says that she’s given you the address on a bit
of paper she put in your bag of money.”

Rob’s hand involuntarily sought his bag of
treasures, and his eyes shone. It was impossible
for him not to show that he felt the uplifting
of its presence.

“Better not think too much of it, Rob,” ad-
vised Miss Ellis cautiously, “you'll show it if
you do. Well, now, that’s all [ can do for you;
get you off as soon as [can. But you must ea
a bit first.” She ran into the buttery and pres-
ently returned with a generous supply of cold
meat and a good wedge of custard pie. And
making Rob sit down, she put them before him
and then ran out to hurry John once more.

When she came back, the plate was empty,
and Rob had the appearance of one who could
easily have disposed of twice the amount.

“T know what it is to see boys eat,” she de-,
clared, laughingly, ‘* Rob, I’m only too glad to
have you enjoy it,” and she seized his plate and
was soon refilling it.

“Take plenty of time,” she said, coming back ;

“ John’s got to have his lunch yet.”
_ But the next moment John came into the
kitchen: “I shall eat my snack on the way,
Mary. Put up a good one, and plenty of
cheese. We ought to be off this minnte.”
HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.



UER MOTHER’S BIBLE.
By Pansy.

WHOSOEVER WILL COME AFTER ME, LET HIM DENY HIM-
SELF, AND TAKE UP HIS CROSS AND FOLLOW ME.
WHOSOEVER SHALL NOT RECEIVE THE KINGDOM OF Gov
AS A LITTLE CHILD, HE SUALL NOT ENTER THEREIN,
SUFFER THE LITTLE CHILDREN TO COME UNTO ME, AND
FORBID THEM NOT, FOR OF SUCH IS THE KINGDOM OF Gop.
THou Son or DaviD, HAVE MERCY ON ME,

tee rocked back and forth in the little

wooden rocker in front of the fireplace, _

and turned the leaves of the big Bible in search
of his verse for the next day.

“TIere is one that I like,” he said at last,
“because it is marked with red ink. I like red
ink best, and I'd just as soon choose it; that is,
it would be an easy enough one, only it isn’t
likely I could use it; it doesn’t fit me.”

“How can you tell what verse will fit you
to-morrow ?” asked his mother. “ Read it to
me.”

So Ralph read: “ Whosoever will come after
me, let him deny himsel?, and take up his cross
and follow me.”

“ And you think that doesn’t fit you? Why
not? You don’t mean, I hope, that you don’t
belong to those who want to follow Him?”

“QO, no!” said Ralph promptly; “I don’t
mean that, of coure. But, you see, I haven’t
got anything to deny myself. I go to school
now, and I like to go; and my lessons are nice,
and I like tostudy them; and I don’t have any-
thing to do that I wouldn’t just as lives do as
not. A few months ago it might have fitted
me; I had to keep denying myself lots of
things I wanted to do, but now it’s different.”

Mrs. Selmser smiled a peculiar smile, and
sewed away for some minutes before she spoke
again.

“Tf I were you I would take it, ea I
never heard of anybody who really wanted to
live by it that didn’t have chances enough.
You can’t tell, you see, what to-morrow may
do.”

Ralph laughed lightly. “I ain’t afraid,” he
said. “To-morrow’s Saturday, and ’m going
to give Ned aride on mysled, and I’m going to
get oreen things and berries for Mary Jane to

trim up the room for father’s birthday; and
there isn’t a thing to do all day but T’d rather
do than not. But then, I'll take it and see.”

“Wire! fire! fire!” Itwasthatsound repeated
by shrill voices that awoke Ralph several hours
later.

“To-morrow” had already begun; it was
almost two o’clock. Out tumbled Ralph in
eager haste, and was ready, by the time his
father was, to start in search of the fire. It
was a stormy night; a wild March wind was
blowing, and the air was full of fast whirling
snow. Great crowds had gathered at the scene
of the fire, and a wild haa beautiful scene it
was. Ralph stood and watched the flames,
filled with a feeling that, to say the least, was
not regret, when he discovered that the house
which was evidently going to burn to the ground,
was the home where his tormentors lived! The
very boys who had shut him into the school
cellar, and were always doing something to
annoy him.

“Tt isn’t any fault of mine,” he said sturdily,
ashamed that there was a little feeling of glad-
ness in his heart, and yet trying to apologize
for it. “I wouldn’t have set their house on fire
for anything in this world; and I'd put it out,
quicker, if I could. But since it’s got to burn,
I’m glad it belongs to such mean chaps as PREY
instead of to the fellows I like.”

“Get out!” said aman just at Ralph’s elbow.
He had been working with a will, and had just
stopped for breavh. Je explained the meaning
of his words to a man who was with him.

“It’s that little eat; she’s been under my feet
most of the time. Look at her! she’s scared to
death, and the smoke makes her blind. She’il
get killed here if nobody looks after her. Look
at those sparks! They are going to catch on
the side roof now!” and the men were off.

Ralph stood still and looked, not at the flames,
but at the “little cat.” The special pet of those
two boys! Once he told his mother that he
believed ‘those fellows liked their ridiculous
kitten better than they did their little baby
sister.” Now she was dashing about in a wild
way, right under the feet of the flying firemen,
and was certainly in a fair way to be killed.

“Serve ’em right, too,” declared Ralph.
“Think how they treated my Towser only the
other night; humph! think how they treated
me.” Again there came into his heart that
glad feeling. He wouldn’t have hurt the “little
cat”? for anything; but he knew he was glad
she was likely to be hurt. Suddenly there
came to him a thought so surprising that he
whistled, even there, with the flames rising
higher every minute. Wasn’t it, his duty to
“deny himself” that glad feeling, and “take
up his cross” and that little cat and carry her
home out of harm’s way?

“Pshaw!” he said aloud. “ Likely story
that a Bible verse would have anything to do
with a cat! What kind of denying would that
be, anyhow? As if I wanted their old kitten
to be killed, if she can keep herself from it.”

No use, Ralph. Bible verses apply to smaller
creatures than cats; and you know as well as

you need to know, that a follower of Him .

whose words you are quoting, would be merciful
to the smallest and weakest of his creatures.

Suddenly Ralph gave a dart into the midst
of the smoke, being pushed aside and scolded
by an impatient fireman, and being promptly
ordered home by his own father, who had
dashed into the worst of it, and was helping
fight the fire. Ralph went home, very sorry to
miss the rest of the fire; but the “little cat”
trembling as though she had a chill, was tucked
close to his breast, wrapped under his stout
overcoat. He had denied himself the feeling
of satisfaction over the thought that something
belonging to those scamps of boys had come to
grief.

Perhaps you think the boys were very grate-
ful the next day when they found their pet had
been saved. This was the way they told the
story:

“ And don’t you think, with all the rest, we
cane pretty near losing Spot. That Ralph
Selnnser came prowling around and walked off
with her under his coat, as large as you please!
’ No telling what he would have done with her,
only one of the men saw him and told father,
and he went himself and brought her home.
As if it wasn’t enough to have our house burn
down, but we must have things stolen! Ralph
‘pretends that he took her to save her, because
she was dashing right into the fire, and he heard
a man say she would be killed ; but that is stuff

PEOPLE WILL TALK.

and nonsense; as if a cat didn’t know how to
take care of herself.”

So that was their gratitude !

But when Ralph heard of it, he laughed, and
said to his mother: ‘‘T’ll have to hold on to the
verse, mother. I’m going to deny myself the
pleasure of knocking both those fellows over,
and it feels kind of pleasant to hold myself in ;
J rather like it. But you see if I had let that
little cat kill herself, I should have felt just
awful. It’s queer that Bible verses belong even
to cats!”

PEOPLE WILL TALK.

OU may get through the world, but ’twill
be very slow,
If you listen to all that is said as you go;
Yowll be worried and fretted and kept in a
stew.
For meddlesome tongues must have something
to do,
And people will talk.



If quiet and modest, you'll have it presumed
That your humble position is only assumed —
Yow’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing or else you’re
a fool;
But don’t get excited —keep perfectly cool—
For people will talk.

And then if you show the least boldness of heart,

Or a slight inclination to take your own part,

They will call you an upstart, conceited and vain ;

But keep straight ahead—don’t stop to explain—
For people will talk.

If threadbare your dress or old-fashioned your
hat; :

Some one will surely take notice of that,

And hint very strongly that you can’t pay your
WEN

But don’t get excited whatever they say —

For people will talk.

If your dress is the fashion, don’t think to escape,
For they criticise then in a different shape ;
Yowre ahead of your means, or your tailor’s
unpaid ;
But mind your own business, there’s naught to
be made,
For people will talk.

Now, the best way to do is to do as you please,
For your mind, if you have one, will then be at
ease 5
Of course you will meet all sorts of abuse ;
But don’t think to stop them — it ain’t any use—
For people will talk. — Selected.
“AND THERE WERE GIANTS IN THOSE DAYS.”





“AND THERE WERE GIANTS IN
THOSE DAYS.”

TANTS in those days— giants in these —
Giants of wrong and giants of right, -
Giants who stand and giants who fight,
Giants in action, giants at ease.”

So the preacher spoke, and the people heard
With faces lifted, and straining ear,
Eager to listen, eager to hear —

Not losing an eloquent word.

“There are giant sins in these days of ours,
And giants who meet to strike them down,
Winning stars for the heavenly crown:

Giant lives that bloom like the flowers.

“There are giant powers that build up homes
Where the victims of other giants rest,
Helping always up towards his best

The sinner who meckly and humbly comes ;

“There are giant souls who far away
The cross are lifting, a light to be,
For brothers in darkness over the sea,

Whose light is shining on us to-day.

“ There are giants making the earth more bright,
More like the Eden once lost to man;
Welping their God in His every plan

To bring to the world more life and light.

“ But all giants of good have need to fight,
And need of the help of God alone;
If one terrible giant be overthrown,

They must gird on the armor and keep it bright

“Jt is not hopeless; we all may grow
Into great giants to fight and win;
Though little we may do against the sin,
All may do something, that we know

“ For greater is He who ig on our side,
Than the terrible giant so vile and strong —
The giant troubling the world so long:
Heayen’s hosts are with our weak hosts allied.

“ Chariots and horsemen are ’round about,
Though we see no shadow against the sky ;

God will help us, He cannot lie.
Though the giant was strong and stout,

* Rolling his terrible floods of sin
Over the land for years and years,
Making the world a vale of tears,

God is with us, and we shall win.”

The preacher paused, and I thought that he
Looked like a giant himself that day,
Though his face was old, and his hair was

gray 5
And I guessed what that giant could be.

{ knew the giant of sin and shame —
The giant flooding the earth with woe —
And I vowed that to fight him I'd always vo;
For Rum was the terrible giant’s name.

R. E. R. MONFORT, one of the editors

of the Herald and Presbyter, who is

traveling in Scotland, has been visiting Melrose

Abbey, and tells some interesting things about

the old graveyard. Here are the words he
found on one old red tombstone:

THE BARTH GOETH ON THE EARTB
GLISTENING LIKE GOLD.

THE EARTH GOES TO THE EARTH,
SOONER THAN IT WOLD;

THE BART BUILDS ON THE EARTH
CASTLES AND TOWERS,

THE EARTH SAYS TO TINK EARTH,
ALL SHALL BE OURS.

Those lines will bear studying. [ wonder
how many of my readers can tell what they
mean?

Here is another inscription found on a stone
in Greyfriars Churchyard, which fur tenderness
and qcuaintness, and the power of saymey
great deal in a few words, it seems to me would
be hard to excel.

There is first the name and date, which iast.
by the way, is in the year 1518, and then:

SHE WAS— BUT WORDS ARE WANTING TO SAY WHaT
THINK WHAT A WIFE SHOULD BR,
AND SI WAS THAT
THE WAY MY GRANDMOTHER LOOKED ONCE.



THE WAY MY GRANDMOTHER LOOKED ONCE.

i



























it

i
li
te

i i

















































y

7




aR:

P.





I. P.

SN
Sy

OWN EAST — where is that?

Many years ago there lived a man
whose name began with I. P.

He was a farmer, and there he is now,
plowing. The one who made the picture never
saw I. P., or he would never have made just
such a picture of him; for neither himself nor
his team nor his plow locked like that.

Don’t call him a funny old chap who doesn’t
amount to much till you know something about
him.

He was an industrious man, and that cannot
be said of everybody. He worked hard every
day, rain or shine, following his plow or some-
thing else on his little farm.

.He was an honest man, always paying one
hundred cents on the dollar.

He was a brave man, There were savage
Indians in his days

Lore,

which was fastened about his waist, while his
neighbors pulled with might and main at the
other.

Their joy knew no bounds when they saw the
dead bear follow I. P., who had him firmly by
the ears.

He was a loyal man. His country was in
danger. A young man, whose name begun with
P. R., heard that the British were going over to
Concord to destroy the stores there. Mounting
a fleet horse, he rode at the top of his speed,
calling out at every house on the way “The
British are coming! the British are coming!
Get ready for them.”

On and on he galloped till the startling news
spread through all the region.

Word reached brave, loyal old I. P. ashe was
plowing.

“What do you say?” he shouted back to his
hired man who was plowing on the other side































and sometimes it





















































































































































































































was necessary to































































































































































































































meet them in bat-



















tle. He was not
afraid of Indians.

Once he was
captured by them
and bound to a











































































































































































































































































































































































































































































tree. They began
to throw their
sharp tomahawks







at his head to see





























how near to it

















































































they could come



















































without hitting













































































































and enjoy his ter-



















ror as the fierce
blade same whiz-
zing through the air. But somehow he es-
eaped. Almost as bad as the Indians were the
wild beasts of those days.

I. P. did not. fear them, however. Once he
and his neighbors chased a bear into a cave;
but after him went this fearless farmer, gun in
hand.

Far within he saw two eyes glaring at him.
Aiming as nearly between them as he could,
bang went the old musket, and the next minute
out came I. P. drawn by a rope, one end of



AT THE PLOW.

‘of the field and who had called ont, asking I. P.

if he had heard the news of the battle of Lex-
ington.

No sooner did he catch the words “ British ”
and “Lexington” than the horses were un-
hitched, and almost as fast as P. R. rode J. P.
toward Lexington and offered himself to his
country in her hour of peril.

Then came the bloody battle of Breed’s Hill.
I. P. was there in the thickest of the fight, di-
recting and encouraging the soldiers. He was

pe a ie anette ee SE Tek es
I.

Py





one of the generals. Now do you know him?

But what if I should tell you that he taught
‘that little fellow over there by the head of the
horses to plow, so that he became a splendid
farmer and after the war was over and “ Amer-
ica had gained the day” went“ West ” — which
in those days was New York State — and bought
one hundred and sixty acres of land and in a
few years his new farm was worth ten times
more than he paid for it; and he had a large
family of boys, most of whom became good
farmers, and now in our day one of those boys’
boys owns a farm “out West” — where is that ?
-——of fifty-eight thousand acres!

He plans to plow ten thousand acres each

summer. All his horses are—mules. Three
mules to each plow, and twenty miles a day for
each plow. Notawhip onthe farm; no cruelty
to an animal.

Happy mules; happy cattle! Don’t they
look like it in this picture “ At the Dairy Farm” ?

Who knows but grand old I. P. when he
knelt at the family altar and opened his heart to
God a hundred or more years ago, or when he
followed his honest plow and thought and won-
dered what would some day come to his dear
country — who knows, I say, but he had some
glimpse of our times and the wonderful West

withits wonderful farms, churches and school-
houses! Cc. M. L.





- AT THE DAIRY FARM.
GUNS.—SIMPLICITY IN SPEAKING.





GUNS.

NCE there was a man. He had
coarse, long black hair and high cheek
bones; and his skin was the color of
copper. He and his family lived in
the woods and ate wild game. To get the
game he had a gun. It was made of a string
and two sticks.

He could shoot many yards with it. Many a
rabbit, turkey and deer he brought home for
dinner by the aid of his bow and arrow. His
gun was his capital. (Know what that means ?)

Well, the years went by, and there came
another man into that neighborhood. His face
was white, his hair anburn and waving. Fora
time these men lived in peace. But the white
man loved to shoot the wild game, too. He
had a gun made of iron, and he could shoot
farther than the other man, and kill more wild
animals. Can you guess how trouble came?
It came. They began to shoot at each other.
“Hum” would go the arrow through the air
from the Indian’s bow and just graze the white
man’s ear; then at last “flash” and “bang”
from the iron gun and “whiz” goes the bullet
right into the Indian’s head. Poor Indian falls
like the rabbits he once hit, and his wife is now
a widow. What willshe and the children do
for bread and meat?

After this came another white man. His
gun was better still. Strange to say, these two
white men made war with each other. “Flash”
went the powder, and away flew the bullets
and down went the first man, dead. Their
children have ever since been trying to make
bigger and better guns, almost entirely to see
which can hurt the other most, P?’m sorry to tell.

A while ago some of those grown-up chil-
dren went down to a place called Sandy Hook,
not far from New York, to see a big gun.

It is the largest ever made in the United
States. The Indian’s bow and arrow would be
small and light as a feather by the side of this
awful thing. It is all cast-iron, thirty feet
long; its mouth or bore is twelve inches in
diameter; its weight fifty-four tons; its cost
twenty-nine thousand dollars; it throws an
eight hundred pound ball so far and fiercely as
to knock a hole in an iron armament (what’s





that?) a half-mile away. It costs over one
hundred dollars every time it is fired. It took
a year to make it. May it never be aimed at
your rabbit or your head or the great ship on
which you may be riding to London or the city
in which you live.

There’s a greater gun than the Indian’s or
those two white men’s or this last monster.

It is made — not of two sticks and a string
or iron — but of flesh and blood and something
else. Its mouth is the same size as yours. It
can shoot a thousand miles as easily as one, and
hit a thousand marks at the same moment as
easily as one. Its arrows are words, words!
The smallest of these word bullets can make
the world bleed, or heal the world’s wounds.

You are the gun, and you take aim and fire
as many as a thousand times daily, and hearts
bleed or eyes dance with delight every time of
the “Flash, whiz, bang!”

Look out, my lad and girl, with what you
load and how and why you aim and fire.

Uncie CHARLES.

SIMPLICITY IN SPEAKING.

ENJAMIN FRANKLIN, in his autobiog-
raphy, lays down a canon of good breed.
ing in conversation which is worth keeping in
mind. He says that he formed the habit of
expressing himself “in terms of modest diffi.
dence,” never using the words “certainly, un-
doubtedly, or any others that give an air of
positiveness to an opinion,” on subjects that
may possibly be disputed; saying, rather, “It
appears to me, or, I should think it so, or so, if
I am not mistaken.” This habit, he said, was
of great advantage to him in persuading people
to adopt his views, and also helped him to
gather much valuable knowledge which other-
wise would have been withheld. For, as_a
rule, people do not care to impart information
to one who is firmly intrenched in his own
opinions. Young people are very apt to have
a positive, dogmatic way of expressing them-
selves, and should be trained to a moderate, as
well as graceful, use of language. The use of
slang has a tendency toward the error which
Franklin tried to avoid. — Selected.


JUNE

A

S'TUDY.









“.



JUAL STUDY,

’
ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.





ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.
By Marcarer SIDNEY.

CHAPTER VY.

Oe oun ELLIS motioned to Rob with a
RS) hasty hand. “Come on, boy; we have
wed no time to lose.”

res Rob got out of his chair and walked
up to Mary Ann.

“Thank you,” he said simply.

Mary Ann for answer, touched his ruddy
cheek with her lips. ‘“ Now, Rob, you remem-
ber all I have told you.”

“IT won't forget a single word,” declared
Rob, and slapping his breast where the little
bag of money was concealed. Already he felt
the man of affairs, going out into the world, to
hold his own against the strongest.

“Take care, Rob,” warned Mary Ann;
“don’t touch your coat where that bag is; you
mustn't even look as though you thought of
money.”

“Pl take care,” said Rob, feeling quite big
and old. ;

“Because if you don’t,” said Miss Ellis,
“yow'll find out soon to your sorrow that you
haven’t any money. So be sure now.”

This last was said as Rob hoisted himself up
to the seat beside John Ellis, who at once
gathered up the cotton reins, and slapping the
old horse’s back with the doubled-up ends, cried
out, “Glang there, Dandy; we must move
sharp to get this boy safe over to Freeburg.”

Mary Ann shaded her eyes with her hand as
she stood on the flat door stone and watched
them turn the corner. Then she turned and
went quickly into the house, putting up the
corner of her white apron surreptitiously to her
face, as she stepped into the empty kitchen.

“No use to cry for spilt milk, or a spoilt
visit,” she observed wisely, “but I’m not so old
that I don’t feel it when I get a hurt as I have
to-day. But la! what am I talking of when
that poor boy is the only one to be thought of.
Goodness! it’s worth my disappointment to
cheat old Barker out of his prey.”

So reflecting, Miss Ellis speedily put herself
to rigits in her mind, and taking her sewing she





settled down to the afternoon work, as if she ~
had never thought of such a thing as visiting:
her dearest friend, Eliza Smith.

Meanwhile Rob and his deliverer were mak-
ing good time over toward the hill that sepa-
rated the two friends. Several times John
Ellis essayed to impart good advice to the lad
so strangely thrust upon his charity. But the
words always remained unsaid. “They stick
in my throat,” said John to himself as he
silently drove on, “and good reason why. I
never could abide being lectured to when I was
a shaver like him, He'll have to rough it like
the rest of us, and turn out all the better man
for it. Good gracious, here’s mischief! Get
under the bags, Rob, as quick as you can!”

Rob threw himself over the seat, and was in
a trice under the bags of potatoes with which
the floor of the wagon was strewn. But none
too soon. A man’s voice was presently heard
addressing Mr. Ellis, and although nearly
smothered in his close quarters, and with a
mind given over to his own matters, Rob had
no difficulty in recognizing the sharp, high-keyed
voice of Jed Barker, and he shivered with
anger and an instinctive dread that all might
even now be lost.

“ Good-afternoon, John,” said’ Mr. Barker,
pulling up his sorry beast to a dead stop;
“ well, seems to me you’ve took a queer time to
get your potatoes on the road. Goin’ over to
Freeburg ?” m

“Oh! Pm going to fetch the potatoes to
Simmons on the West Road,” said John Hllis
carelessly, which was quite true, but that
errand was to be performed. on the way to Free-
burg. “Looks like a storm, doesn’t it?”
squinting at the sky. i

“JT dno. ’Pears like it will blow oe
Them clouds don’t mean anything, I take it,”
said Mr. Barker with a short laugh. “Well, I
don’t know as I care whether it rains or shines.
I hain’t any business that spiles. The next
thing I do is to change boys” —

“Eh?” said John Ellis coolly.

“Yes; fact is,” said Mr. Barker growing
confidential, “Slocum and I have come to an
agreement to exchange boys. He don’t like his
bargain, and I don’t like mine. So we agreed
to swap. Hee, hee, hee!”

ee aes ees eee Se Bees Ae


ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS. 2



SSS

—————————[£>=[=—[[=[_[==[——[]ue=



“JT don’t understand,” said John, changing
the reins from one hand to the other nerv-
ously.

“Ye see, the case is about here. Stop
shaking your head, you beast you, or Ill fix
you when I get you home,” giving a vicious
pull to the reins. “Tllearn you! The critter
has got a new curbed bit on, and it ain’t what
he likes — but he’ll catch something that don’t
suit him as well if he don’t lock out. Well, I
was saying, why, you know Slocum’s nephew,
that tall, high-strung chap that Mary Slocum
left on his h.nds.”

“ Mary Slocum had an equal division in the
estate, P’ve always heard,” said John quietly.

“Well, s’posin’ she did, that’s no reason her
boy should get anything out of Joel, if it can
be saved,” retorted Barker with an unpleasant
sneer.

“ Whatever Joel Slocum’s faults are, and we
all have ours, cheating isn’t one of them,” ex-
claimed John Ellis hotly.

“Who said it was?” cried Barker coarsely,
and ejecting the tobacco juice with which his
mouth was usually well-filled, to right and left,
“well, leavin’ out motives as to why he wants
to get rid of the boy, the fact still remains that
he is determined to do it, all the same. [ve
got the boy!” Te roared out the last words,
bringing down his grey woollen glove heavily
on his knee. Rob, huddling under the potato
bags, shivered worse than ever, and held his
breath in a terror that nearly made him scream.
The next words were;

“Yes, ’ve got him sure. Joel has at last
signed the agreement, and my fingers are as good
ason the boy. I’m going for him this afternoon;
then look out. Tl take down his airs; ye won’t
any of you know him in a month. Well, I
must be goin’. Hope ye’ll get your potatoes to
Simmons all right. Glang!” With a cruel
eut to the horse’s back, he sprung off at a smart
pace down the road.

John Ellis waited until he heard no sound of
the retreating wagon wheels; then he leaned
over the back of the seat.

“It’s safe now,” he said under his breath.
“ Come,” as Rob, white from his imprisonment
and the shock, dragged himself out of his close
quarters,

“That brute has for once got outwitted,”
said John through his teeth, as Rob slid into
place on the séat. “Well, my boy, we better
whip up, and get you along as smart as we can.”
With that he brought the whip down on Dandy’s
astonished haunches, making him skip over the
frozen road at a remarkable pace, which in due
time brought the two, so singularly connected
as traveling companions, into the town of Free-
bure.

“Now,” said John, drawing a long breath,
“we're in luck if the train for Parkersville
hasn’t gone out.”

Rob sat straight on the old wagon seat, and
gazed out into the gathering dusk. A railroad
journey under any circumstances was an event
in his short life; under the present conditions
he was thrilled through and through at the
mere thought of the experience; and with the
increasing dread of the terror he had barely
escaped, pursuing him, he peered anxiously
over at the little station in front:of which a
knot of men were standing.

“Tias train gone to Parkersville?” shouted
John Ellis, in a tremor almost as great as the
one overpowering Rob.

“No; she ain’t in,” volunteered one man,
throwing a glance down the track: “ five min-
utes late. Here she comes!”

“No time to buy your ticket,” said John
hoarsely. “Jump out. Here, you, hold my
horse, will you?” to the men. “Tl speak to
the conductor; come on, Rob.”

Rob scuttled after, quivering with excitement,
down the platform-length as the train whizzed
up and stopped. John pulled him forward as
the conductor jumped off the step of the pas-
senger coach.

“This boy wants to go to Parkersville. Will
you see him safely there, and tell him when to
get off?” .

« All right,” said the conductor, his mind on
his train, and the lost time he would have to
make up.

“He will pay for his ticket on the train,’
said John; “there wasn’t any time to buy it.”

“ All right,” said the conductor again; and
looking at his watch, “Jump on, my boy.”

“He hasn’t ever traveled any,” said John,
“and you'll have to kinder look out for him.”

?
PUSS AND TOOTENS.



“Yes, yes; I understand,” said the conductor
sharply. ‘Get on, if you are going to. We
don’t wait here all night.”

“Yes, get on,” said John, with a warm grasp
of the brown hand in his; then he gave him a
gentle push. Rob jumped up on the steps, the
conductor waved his hand, and jumped up
beside him, and Rob was adrift in the world,
the face of the last friend who bound him to
the old home, slowly receding from his view.

PUSS AND TOOTENS.

PUSS AND TOOTENS.



RHAPS the boys and girls reading
Pansy would like to hear something
about them? Well, they are little girls
very dear to their papa and mamma,
Fanny or Puss is six years old, while Mary or





Tootens isnearly four. Puss is a busy wee body,
much occupied helping mamma take care of the
house; having papa’sstudy ready for him when he
comes home tired, and looking after his general
comfort. Papa is sure to find his slippers beside
his big chair, and knows his little maiden has
put them there. Puss has also to attend to her
family of dolls, from Edna the eldest, to Rosie
the youngest, and insists upon her children obey-
ing her. She is very motherly, and it distresses
her much when any of them have some
infantile sickness; at least she says this
one or that has. When such a crisis comes
she at once sends for Dr. Jimmy, her
brother eight years old. If Dr. Jimmy
fails in making the child doll better Dr.
Gordon, her five-year-old brother, has to
be called in. Thetwo doctors always make
the sick one well. They feel its pulse, and
would dearly love to look at its tongue.
Dr. Jimmy is gentle in his treatment, while
Dr. Gordon is somewhat heroic. When
her children are all better Mamma Puss
shows her joy by singing to them “Gen-
tle Jesus, meek and mild,” or “ Twinkle,
twinkle, litle star,” and tells them all
sorts of wonderful stories.

Tootens is a good-natured little pudge,
broad as Jong; takes matters very easy,
and when her brothers and sister are romp-
ing is usually found sitting on a stool be-
side papa, a gentleman she innocently im-
acines can do anything, from mending toys
to building houses. Tootens is very proud
and fond of her one doll, called Lucey, and
her papa often hears her saying to Lucy,
“ Jesus loves me, that I know, for the-
Bible tells me so.” This is Tootens’ favor-
ite hymn, and sometimes when dollie is
asleep she marches up and down the par-
lor with her fat, chubby hands behind her
back, singing the verses to herself.

When bedtime comes Puss and Tootens
kneel at mamma’s knee, ask Jesus to take care
of them till morning light, kiss dear papa, and
go off to the Land of Nod, two of the happiest
little girls in Canada.

Another time I will write something more
about them and their brothers.

Puss anp Tootrns’ Papa.


a

“Tf the apples bloomed to-day,
Tt would be pink, and would be May.
Tf great gold roses opened soon,
Then it would be yellow-June 5
If it snowed —O, Lremember!
‘Myould be white, and be December;

Just because its gray and blue,

April! April! thatmeans you.”
Prom “Children’s Almanac.” EvizaBbeta Stuart PaELrs.




THROUGH THE WOODS.



THROUGH THE WOODS.
(A story in two parts.)
PART I.

T was the gray pony that Helen
wanted to take. He was such a
wise horse that there was no need in
thinking about the trains all the time.
Besides, he could follow those bewil-
dering windings through the woods
as well as though he had Jaid out the roads him-
self, if indeed they had been laid out at all.
But just as she was thinking of asking Phillip
to harness for her she heard Mary’s voice say-





to take those rose-cuttings to Aunt Hattie this
afternoon, and I wanted Gray myself.” |

“ Why can’t you take Brownie?” said Mary.
“'There’s Phillip driving into the yard with him
now; he will be ready to go as soon as he hag
had his dinner.”

“ Well,” said Helen after a minute, “I s’pose
Pll have to do that. I hate to drive Brownie
because he doesn’t know the roads; and he
thinks he does and keeps turning where he ought
not. You have to watch him every minute.”

Mary laughed, and said that was good disci-
pline for Helen; that she was too much in-
clined to dream in the daytime. And then
she climbed into her carriage and drove away.



“sTAND OVER!”

ing in a tone of authority, “Stand over!” and
looking from the window saw she was harness-
ing the gray pony to the high carriage.
“Where are you going?” she called, and
Mary answered promptly that she was going to
Lake Minnow to call on the Allen girls.
“O dear!” said Helen, “I promised mamma

Half an hour afterward Helen drove out in
the phaeton. She was going to call for her
dear friend Winnie Chester who was boarding
at the hotel. Under the seat was her little
hand bag with all needed articles for the night,
because she often stayed at Aunt Hattie’s all
night, and Winnie had promised the very next


THROUGH THE WOODS.





—s

time she went with her to stay and enjoy the
new milk from Aunt Hattie’s cow and the cream
muffins she was sure to make.

It was a lovely afternoon. The ride was
thoroughly enjoyed by both girls. Brownie trot-
ted along briskly, although the roads were sandy
and made just the right turnings, as if he had

“I don’t remember any of them,” said Win-
nie; “the roads look alike to me in this country.
Doesn’t Brownie know the way home?”

“ Brownie is not to be depended upon,” said
Helen gravely. “He thinks he knows every-
thing, but he makes dreadful mistakes. That
is the reason I wanted to take Gray. I do get



WHAT THE

heard and resented Helen’s complaint about him.

Aunt Hattie’s was reached in good time and
in safety, but alas! for the plans about new milk
and cream muftins. Aunt Hattie and Uncle
Henry were both away from home. They had
gone to town for the day. The rose-enttings
had to be consigned to Jake, and the two girls
stayed only long enough for Brownie to get a
drink of water; for the roads were heavy, and
twilight fell carly in this part of the country.
They rode along in a leisurely manner, chatting
pleasantly, stopping every little while for ferns
and mosses. Suddenly Helen said:

“Tt is growing dark. The sun has set; did
you know it? I never thought of such a thing,
and we are not near home; where are we, any-
way? I don’t remember this pond, do you?”

GIRLS SAW.

so mixed up on these roads. This doesn’t look
natural to me, but we will drive on a little
farther and see what we come to.”

What they came to was a rough narrow path
which Helen felt certain she had never seen
before. She drove slowly, with a troubled face,
uncertain whether it was best to go on or to
turn around and try to find the way back. To
add to their perplexity the short twilight had
disappeared and it was unmistakably dark. No
moon, and the trees so thick that the stars gave
very little light. They had almost entirely
ceased talking and were occupied, the one in
trying to drive, the other in the vain hope of
seeing something familiar.

“T can’t see at all,” she said at last; “what
shall we do? I don’t know the way home.”
“Wont your people come to find you when
they see how dark it is?” asked Winnie.

“They think we are going to stay at Aunt
Hattie’s,” ssid. Telen, trying to speak bravely,
but feeling her heart beat so hard that it seemed
to her Winnie must hear it. Silence again for
a few minutes, then Winnie exclaimed :

“There’s a dog barking. Somebody must
be coming. Welen, aren’t you afraid?”

“T see a light,” said Helen, in a cheerful voice.
“We are comiug to a house. Iam go glad.”

Was she? In afew minutes more she knew
that she was sorry. A little old log cabin set
down in the woods, no sign of civilization any-
where, unless that tumbied-down cabin stood
for it and half a dozen growling dogs. In the
doorway stood the worst-looking woman the
girls had ever seen, or rather had ever been able
to imagine. Tall, gaunt, with a long thin chin,
peaked nese, and strong red arms bare to the
elbows. She was speaking to an uucouth man
or bey around whon the dogs frolicked as
though they knew him. The only relief to the
picture was the sight of a very little eirl who
seemed not at all afraid of the dogs, and who
welcomed the ragged, silly-looking man with a
gurvle of Inughter. At sight of the carriage
the whole company, dogs included, turned and
gave undividel attention.

“Lost your way, ch?” said the woman;
“that’s bad such a dark night as this. I reckon
the old man himself couldu’t find the read to
Pine Loch to-night, and] he knows most, roads in
this country. You'll just have to stay all night.
Treckon we can put you somewhere ; you need
daylight for getting homie, that’s certain.
Yowre much as three mile onto’ your way.”

In a silence that was very near despair, the
two girls stepped down from the phaeton,
shrinking from the dogs in a tremble of terror,
despite the woman’s loud assurance that they
wouldn’t “hurt a hair of their heads.? No
sooner were they inside the cabin than, but for
the dogs, they would have rushed out again.
Never had they dreamed of such a place for
human beings to live; rough logs fer walls,
rough boards for floors; an open fireplace for a
stove, over which a pot hung at this minute
filled with a mixture so vile-smelling that the
two frightened girls had almost. to hold their

THROUGH THE WOODS.



breaths to keep from fainting. At least that
was the way it appeared to them; though really
it was nothing worse than the amel! of lard that
was scorching. Utterly refusing to cat a mouth.
ful of the Llack-looking bread that was urged
upon them, and too frightened to do much
besides looking at one another, they were thank-
ful when the woman told them they looked
“tuckered out” and she “reckoned they had
better turn in for the night.” To this ond she
lighted what was really a pine torch, though
the girls did not know it, and prepared to climb
the stairease which was nothin but a ladder.
Meantime the one she called her “ old man”
had come in and the situation had been ex-
plained to him, he nodding wisely at intervals
and saying: “Just so, just so.” Poor Helen
thoueht he looked worse than his wite, and she
followed the woman up the ladder stairs in
haste to get away from the shagey man. Oh!
what would their mothers have thought if they
had seen the room into which their cherished
daughters were shown for the night. The bed-
stead was made of two boxes with slats across,
and a tick filled with dried moss and leaves.
There was a broken chair, and a box that

-served for a table. These were the only at-

tempts at furniture. The one little window had
no sash, nothing but a window shutter through
whose haifopen mouth the baying of those
awtul dogs could be distinctly heard.

“T reckon you dunno’? how to Indna@e a
torch,” said the woman, “so I woi’t leave it for
you, but the light will come up through the
chinks in the logs encagh for you to get into
bed by. I reckon there’s kivers enough. The
nights are mighty cold nowadays.”

Not a word had the friehtened girls to
answer, but the moment the woman and her
torch had disappeared down the ladder they
flew into each other’s arms and sobbed as though
their hearts would break.

“Pm afraid to go to bed,” murmured Winnie,
“and I’m afraid to sit up. We can’t stay here,
Melen. Let’s slip out and ran away.”

“Wecan’t,” whispered Helen; “those awful
dogs— just hear them!” and she shook like a
leaf. “Only think, Winnie, mamma supposes
we are safe in bed in Aunt Hattie’s pretty
room.” Pansy.
no “ i

A BIBLE LESSON.



A BIBLE Lesson. (Krom the painting by Mfrs. Alma-Tadema.)


HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.





HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.
By Pansy.

REJOICE GREATLY, O DAUGHTER oF Zion; sHoUT, O
DAUGHTER OF JERUSALEM}; BEHOLD, THY KING COMETH
UNTO THER,

Has CAME UNTO HIS OWN, AND HIS OWN RECEIVED HIM
NOT.

LOVE IS THE FULFILLING OF THE LAW.

Bur I say unro you, THAT IN THIS PLACE IS ONE
GREATER THAN THE TEMPLE.

H° !” said Ralph, “I’ve got a speck of a
verse this time, and I don’t see much
sense to it, I must say.”

“Read it out,” said his mother, sewing rapidly.
“Tt must be a queer verse if it hasn’t much sense.
Ts it one of Grandmother’s?”

“Q, yes! marked round andround. One, two,



“WHAT IF IIR STOULD !”

three —it is just seven words: ‘Love is the ful-
filling of the law.’ ”

“Tt has plenty of sense, I think. What docs
it say to you?”

“Why, it says,” said Ralph, laughing, “that if

I love you, it doesn’t make any matter whether
I mind you or not. Well, if that’s true, it’s a
nice idea. Shall we try it, mother? [li agree
to love you, right straight through, and then

ee ee ee eee ee
you won’t care about the minding, you see.”

“But I don’t see any such thing. It doesn’t
say that to me, Ralph; and no more it didn’t to
Grandmother; she was very particular about the
minding. What it says is, that if you love folks
enough, you will besure to keep their laws, just
because you love them.”

“ S’pose their laws aren’t worth keeping ?”

“ Yes, I see,” said Mrs. Selmser, stopping to
bite the end of her thread, “my explanation
wasn’t good; there’s no ‘ supposing’ any such
thing in this case, because it is talking about
His laws, and all of them are worth keeping.”

“Well,” said Ralph, after a thoughtful pause,
“JT don’t see how that would make a boy keep
to rules, and things.”

“Just you try it to-morrow,” his mother said,
“and see how many things that verse will fit.”

“To-morrow ” was one of the
worst days in the year for a boy
to keep in exactly the right
track. It was “April fool’s
day,” and it seemed to be well
named; for every boy at least,
as well as some of the girls,
acted as foolish as possible.

} Being a boy, and as full of
| fun as any of them, Ralph had
his temptations, but, on the
whole, got through the day
pretty well, and congratulated
4] himself on the way home, that
-he had had “lots of fun, and
hadn’t done anything very dread-
ful, either.”
| Just around the corner, on
Newton Street, he came plump
upon Jerry Smith.

Jerry had set up business but
a short time before, and was
doing his best to make a living,
selling bunches of carly spring flowers, choice
bits of moss, and lichen, and indeed anything
he could find in the woods or out of it, to sell.
He really worked very hard; sometimes under
most discouraging circumstances ; having been
known to tramp all day long without making a
penny. On this particular occasion he looked
very funny indeed to Ralph. He was bare-
footed, though the spring day was not any too
HER MOTHER’S BIBLE.

°







warm for comfort; he had seated himself in
the shelter of a wall, his hat had fallen off, hig
mouth had fallen open, and Jerry was fast
asleep. ‘Poor fellow, he had been up since day-
light working hard, and selling little; this was
one of his bad days. f

But the only thought Ralph had at first, was
how funny the fellow looked sitting there in
broad daylight, sound asleep. After a moment,
came another thought. Jerry’s mouth stood so
invitingly open. What if he should pop into
it the brown bug he was carrying home for
Miss Edwards’ collection! He could easily get
her another, and what delicious fun it would
be to see Jerry jump and sputter, and sneeze,
and all but choke over that unexpected morsel.

_ “Tt’s a clean little fellow, and not poison, nor
anything.”

This Ralph explained to himself, in reply to
seven inconvenient words which came suddenly
to mind — Grandmother’s marked words: “Love
is the fulfilling of the law.”

“Pshaw!” he added impatiently as the seven
words kept repeating themselves in a kind of
steady undertone. “What sense is there in
saying that, all the while. As if this bug had
anything to do with ‘love,’-or law, and as if
the law was about Jerry, anyhow. I know all
the Commandments, and there isn’t a word in
them about a bug. It isn’t a bad bug, and
he won’t swallow it, either, of course.”

It’s of no use, Ralph. You know too much
about “Grandmother's Bible” to be caught by any
such weak arguments. As distinctly as though
that had been his verse for the day instead of
the other, there came trooping into Ralph’s
mind the words: “ Whatsoever ye would that
men should do to you, do ye even so to them.”

Here was a law not inthe Ten Commandments
in so many words, but spoken by the same voice
of authority.

“Well,” said Ralph reflectively, “I’m not
afraid of brown bugs—not nice clean fellows
like this one. I wouldn’t mind, maybe.” The
last word put in asasort of after thought, spoken
more slowly than the others. He worked the toe
of his strong old shoe deep into the mud while
he stood and thought. Visions of himself in
Jerry’s place, came to him; Jerry who had
probably had very little breakfast, and no dinner

to speak of; Jerry, barefooted, and shivery, try-
ing to sell things that people didn’t want; J erry
who had no nice hot supper waiting for him at
home. If such a strange thing should happen
as that he should ever sit on the street corner
asleep under like circumstances, would he like
to have a fat brown bug put slyly into his
opén mouth by a giggling boy? That was the
question.

“No,” said this honest boy slowly, “I just
wouldn’t.”

Well, then, “Love is the fulfilling of the law.”
Did he love Jerry enough to obey this law for
his sake, and forego his fun? The fact was, he
didn’t believe that he loved Jerry at all; Jerry
might be well enough for those who liked him,
but Ralph had never exactly approved of him
in any way.

Suddenly a curious look came into the boy’s
eyes. Just at that moment this question dawned
upon him: Ralph Selmser, do you love the
Lord Jesus Christ enough to fulfill his law?
It is that wonderful Jesus who cares about
Jerry Smith, and would not have an uncom-
fortable thing done to him. If you do honestly
love him, you will fulfill his law even in what
you consider so small a matter as this.

Back went the bug into Ralph’s pocket. It
had had a narrow escape, but Miss Edwards
was sure of it now for her collection. Ralph
dived his hand into the other pocket and drew
therefrom a lovely square of golden gingerbread.
He had been pumping water for Mrs. Ebenezer
Tucker, and she had given him a large piece of
gingerbread in return. Carefully he broke off
a generous “chunk” and deftly poked it into
Jerry’s open mouth, then dodged behind a
corner.

“Ah! ugh! whissch!” sputtered Jerry, sit-
ting up straight and bringing both hands to his
mouth to remove the obstruction. Then he
stared at it, then rubbed his eyes and looked
about him in all directions, a much bewildered
boy. Suddenly a broad smile spread over his
freckled face.

“Tm blessed,” he said aloud, “if I havent
been asleep, and there’s been an April shower,
and it has rained gingerbread! ”

Whereupon he put the chunk back into his
large mouth.
ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.



=





ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.
By Marearrr Sipnuey.

CHAPTER VL
yy OB gazed at the figure on the platform
(XN) gradually growing smaller to his view
as the train whizzed slowly out of the
little station, then turned, and with a
sinking heart stumbled into the car. It was
only half-filled, and without difficulty he selected
a seat and tried to compose himself as best he
might, to this new and tremendous experience
so suddenly thrust upon him. And as the speed
of the train increased he was astonished to find
instead of the dismay that had been his on part-
ing with John, a feeling of exhilaration taking
possession of him; so much so that he could re-
joice at every revolution of the car-wheels
bearing him off so swiftly.

Was he not his own master, with a bag of
money in his coat, going out to make his future
and shake his fist at evil fortune? Rob threw
back his brown head and involuntarily laid his
hand on the place where the gold was concealed.
Then he remembered, and twitched away his
hand, casting a wide glance around to see if he
were observed.. But he could not so easily con-
trol his imagination. The wildest of visions
danced before his excited eyes. He was even
to shake hands with the Mayor of Fairport
before he got through with making himself.
Perhaps he would be the Mayor himself — or
Governor, who could tell? With that Rob-sank
back in his seat overpowered in the delicious
thought.

“Fare!” said the conductor, punching him
sharply.

“Hey?” said Rob, looking up.

“Fare!” The conductor bestowed another
punch, seeing him only half waked up. “Oh!
you're the boy I was to look out for. Well,
hurry up; can’t wait all day.”

Rob still stared awkwardly, twisting his
brown fingers. If he had asked for a ticket he
would have understood.

“Have you a ticket?” demanded the con-
ductor harshly. “If you haven’t any money
Til put you off at the next station.”



“Oh! let the kid ride,” said a young man in
the seat back. “First time, you know, his
mother let him out. Hee, hee, hee!”

“JT have plenty of money, thank you,” de-
clared Rob proudly, including his interceder
in the glance he bestowed on the train official,
and forgetting Miss Ellis’s charge to use the silver
dollar in his pocket, he threw open his coat,
dragged out the bag of gold, and shaking out a
five dollar piece, he held it triumphantly up
before the conductor’s face. ‘There! take my
pay out of that.”

Conductor Riggs took a good look at the boy.
“Where are you going to?” he demanded
quickly.

“To Parkersville,” contributed Rob, thrilling
at the thought that he was holding such business
converse, and stating his plans like a man.

“J s’pose it’s all right,” said the conductor,
taking the gold bit between a slow thumb and
finger, “but I’m not sure that I ought not to
send you right back. At any rate, Pl give you
this advice: don’t be so quick to show your
money.” He leaned over as he said these last
words, and sent them dowr Rob’s brown ear,
till they seemed to burn into the boy’s brain.

Rob started. A hot flush of mingled shame,
at so soon forgetting the instructions plentifully
furnished him and a vague terror at the con-
ductor’s manner, now seized him. He silently
took the change counted out to him, and afraid
to put it in the bag, dropped it into the pocket
with the silver dollar, against which it rattled
merrily.

“ Going far?” asked.a voice; and Rob, gath-

ered up into the corner by the window, turned _

to see the young man who had advised the con-
ductor to let him go ticket free.

“Yes—no,” said Rob, showing no pleasure
at the chance of making a new acquaintance.

“ Ah!” the stranger dropped easily into the
seat by the boy’s side.

“ Well, now, I can remember, and ’twarn’t
such a very long time ago neither, when I was
a chap like youaleaving home. It comes hard
now, don’t it?” He leaned forward and peered
into the boy’s face. But Rob did not answer.

“But then, I soon got over that,” said the
young man, throwing back his coat with a hand
that had more rings upon it than traces of soap
ROB: A STORY FOR BOYS.



and water. “ Yousee when a boy sets out to be
aman there’s a lot of work to do, and he hain’t
no time to suck lis thumbs. Going to Parkers-
ville, T believe?” he brought up confidentially.

Rob was obliged to confess that this was his
élestination.

“ Well, there ain’t much to be seen there;
only a small place, that hain’t grown much in
the last ten years,” said the young man, as if
watching the progress of towns was his chief

eccupation. “If you want to see things buzz,
yowd better go to New York. I tell you, the
dirt flies there.”

“Where’s New York?” asked Rob, betrayed
into curiosity by the delicious power of finding
out the hitherto unknowable.

- now, who could tell him things.
he learn all he could?

“New York? Well, I should smile,” said
the stranger, then concealing the contempt of
his exclamation, “Oh! well, I wasn’t as young
-as you when I first saw the metropolis. If you
hain’t ever seen New York, you better git up
and git there the next chance you have. I tell
you, yowre made when you’re once there.”

Rob turned hot, then cold. The glittering
possibilities dazzled him and he lost what little
head he possessed at first, and before many
moments were over, had communicated enough
of his intentions to easily allow the other to
guess the rest.

“ Now, I tell you what,” exclaimed the young
man, when this drawing out had been accom-
plished and clapping his companion on the back,
“yowre too smart a boy to bury yourself in
that old hole of a Parkersville.

Flere was a man,
Why shouldn’t

I can put you
in the way of making your fortune in a year or
You ain’t the first boy Pve helped up, not
by ajug full. I like you, and Pll do it.
way, old fellow, what’s your name?”
Roh hesitated as it now flashed across him
the danger that lay in the disclosure of his real

80.

By the

self. After he had onee safely reached his
cousi’s no matter who knew his name and his.
tory. But until then, he must be careful.

“T ouess there’s some reason why you want
to keep shady; eh, pal?” suggested the other
in a low voice.

“Tye done nothing Pm ashamed of,” cried
Rob hotly.

——————X—

“Td just as lief anybody’d know my name,”
said his companion; “it’s John Smith, andI don’t
care who knows it.”

But Rob was not to be caught, and he closed
his lips tightly.

“Tucky Pve got to get off at Parkersville,”
said John Smith presently, as the train slowed
up. “Now I can put you in the way of finding
your cousin’s house; then ll just run ahead
and look in on my old father.”

“Do your folks live here?” asked Rob, think-
ing himself quite lucky in finding such a friendly
hand, and surprised that he had not found this
out sooner. !

“Ya-as. Got an old father there. Pretty
rich he is, and he wanted me to stay to home
and take his business — but la! ’twas too dull
for John Smith, so I was off to New York.
Pm going home now for a bit of a visit, then
I’m back to Wall Street again” —

“ Parkersville!”? shouted the brakeman, put-
ting his headin the door. Rob for his life could
not have told what the man uttered, but his
companion bestowed a friendly push upon him,
and getting upon legs that were stiff and unac-
customed to travel, the boy followed his new
friend down the car-aisle and out to the bustle
of the station.

Two minutes later the conductor rushed in, an
impatient frown on his face. “ Why, where’s
that boy?” he cried, confronting Rob’s vacant
seat. ‘J forgot to call the greenhorn when we
reached Parkersville.”

“ He got out,” volunteered a woman across
the aisle, “with that young-man who was his
friend.”

“The one who was sitting back of him?”
demanded the conductor sharply.

“Yes; he was at first, but they got dreadful
intimate, and they went out together.”

The conductor’s color changed and he bit his
lip. But no one knew from anything he said
who Rob’s seatmate was. .And a nervous pas-
senger pulling his coat as he passed her seat, to
ask for the dozenth time when the train would
arrive at Frankport, he was furnished an oppor-
tunity to expend all his annoyance.

Meanwhile Rob and his friend strolled along
Main Street until they reached a corner where
a few bottles in the window seductively labeled
A COLOSSAL BLOSSOM.



choice wine and brandy, with Sample Room
above in glittering letters, brought John Smith’s
feet to a sudden standstill.

“By the way,” he exclaimed, with one of the
hearty claps by which he had already made
known his affection for Rob, “ we must drop in
and see my brother,” and he pulled the boy
along a few steps toward the store.

“Js this your brother’s store?” asked Rob,
running his eyes over the window and its con-
tents.

“Yes,” said John Smith.
fellow.” But Rob stood still.

“|| wait for you out here,” said Rob.

“No,no! Come ahead; what you afraid of Pa

“Nothing, only I'll wait for you here.” The
country lad now planted both feet so firmly on
the ground that the other said briskly “Oh!
well, never mind. I'll see you on your way and
get you all safe at your cousin’s, then PII run
back to my brother’s. Come ahead,” and he
fell into step with the boy.

“Come in, old

“Tt’s too bad for you to go with me,” began |

Rob. “P’raps I can find it alone.”

“No, yon can’t,” said John Smith; “it’s
awful hard to find it. Jim, my brother, won’t
care. He'll wait and.’*twon’t take me long to
run back. Now, your cousin lives off here,”
hurrying the boy down a side street and doub-
ling around that into a narrow lane.

“T thought they lived on the big street,” said
Rob, stumbling after.

“ Well, this is the nearest way,” said John
Smith, rushing ahead. “ You trust me, and
yowll come out all right.”

Rob instinctively put his hand to his coat and
held it fast. But it was too late.
his new friend suddenly paused, and in the angle
of a high, ill-looking tenement, dealt him a
stunning blow on the forehead.

“You young villain, hand over that money!”
hissed John Smith, seizing him by the throat.
“ Quick, or Pl kill you!”

But Rob hung like a faithful dog to his trust,
holding his coat close, obliging John Smith to
tear it open by one vigorous lunge.

“Take that, now, you scamp!” and with a
parting blow he gathered Rob’s money-bag up
and lost himself in the tangle of tenement
houses he knew so well how to thread.

In a minute

= ———— |

A COLOSSAL BLOSSOM.

N the farthest southeastern island of the
Philippine group, Mindinao, upon one of
its mountains, Parag, in the neighborhood of
the highest peak on the island, the volcano Apo,
a party of botanical and ethnographical ex-
plorers found recently at the height of twenty-
five hundred feet above the sea level, a colossal
flower.

The discoverer, Doctor Scha-
denberg, could scarcely believe his eyes when
he saw amid the low-growing bushes the im-
mense buds of this flower, like gigantic brown
cabbage heads. But he was still more aston-
ished when he found a specimen in full bloom,
a five-petaled flower nearly a yard in diameter
—as large as a carriage wheel, in fact. This
enormous blossom was borne on a sort of vine
creeping on the ground, It was known by the
native who accompanied Dr. Schadenberg, who
called it bo-o. The party had no scale by which
the weight of the flower could be ascertained,
but they improvised a swinging scale, using
their boxes and specimens as weights. Weigh-
ing these when opportunity served, it was found
that a single flower weighed over twenty-two
pounds.

It was impossible to transport the fresh
flower, so the travelers photographed it and
dried a number of its leaves by the heat of a
fire. Dr. Schadenberg then sent the photo-
graphs and dried specimens to the Royal Botan-
ical Gardens at Breslau, where the learned
director immediately recognized it as a species
of rafflesia, a plant formerly discovered in
Sumatra and named after the English governor,
Sir Stamford Raffles. The new flower was ac-
cordingly named Rafilesia Schadenbergia.

The five petals of this immense flower are
oval and creamy white and grow around a
centre filled with countless long violet-hued
stamens, thicker and longer in the female, or
fertile flowers, than in the infertile. The fertil-
ization is accomplished by insects, whose larvae:
breed in the decaying flesh of its thick petals.
The fertile flower develops a soft, berrylike
fruit, in which countless seeds are embedded.
The flower exhales a poisonous gas even when
first opened. — Selected.

Alexander


THE WAY TILEY RN

THEIR LIVING.















































































































THE WAY THEY EARN THEIR LIVING,
TWO TROUBLESOME KITTENS.



tz smallest light, just like a little star
< twinkling in the far-away sky. Maud
~ had been asleep aud dreamed a terrible
dream. She thought she had a kitten with two
heads, one where the tail ought to be, following
her down the stairs, down the long hall and out
on the porch. Instead of the usual “Meow ”
it had said to her in a little squeaking voice,
Maud told a lie! Maud told a lie!”

Now she was wide awake ard up in her little
bed, but although she knew there was no truth
in dreams and that kittens never had two
mouths and that she was not on the lawn
in the darkness, she was trembling like a
leaf and felt that she could not possibly
tie down and go to sleep again. J can
tell you just what was the matter; she
knew that if the kitten had been there
and had said those words they would have
been truc, and the kitten not being able
to talk did not take away the sad feel-
ing that she had told a le. “I did not
exactly tell a lie either,” she said to her-
self, “but I lived it, and that is just the
same, and I must see mamma.”

This is the way it happened: Maud
and the kittens had been having the wild-
est kind of a frolic out on the lawn the
night before. She had never seen Sport
act so cunning, and ag for Racer she did
not know that kittens could run go fast.
In the midst of their fun Mary had called
her to open the side gate for the baby’s

carriage, and to run upstairs and get the baby’s ~

sack from the nursery. On her way down she
could Lear her mother’s voice in the sewing-
room. It was growing dusk and Maud had a
slight ccld. She thought of both these things
and felt sure that when her mother heard her
step on the stairs she would say: “ Maudie don’t
go out any more to-night, the dew is falling.”
But Maudie wanted to go out and finish her
frolic with the kittens. What should she do?
You would never guess what she did, and I
hate to have to tell you, but the sorrowful truth
is that she ran back to the nursery, took a pretty

TWO TROUBLESOME KITTENS.

‘little wad of pink cotton that she had remem-

bered seeing on the shelf there and poked great
pieces of itin her ears; then she tramped down
the stairs and through the hall as fast as she
could go. She felt almost certain that her
mother spoke her name, but she stuffed the pink
cotton closer in her pretty ears and sped on.

Then when mamma asked her, half an hour
aiterwards, with grave face:

“Maud, didm’t you hear mamina call when
yon passed through the halla little while ago?
Didw’t you hear mamma tell you not to go out
again?” Maudie looked up with her great
earnest cyes and said ;

“No, mamina, I didn’t hear you at all.” She
thought she was telling the truth, but now, in the
darkness, she knows she looked and acted a lie.



pn a

MAUD I8 TROUBLISD.

Happy Maud, to discover before it was too
late that she could not look and act a lie and be
at rest in her heart. ITappy Maud to have de-
cided then and there that she would tell inamma
all ahout it before she tried to sleep again.
Happy little Maud to have been kissed and for-
given, and to have whispered her soft:

“ Dear Jesus, please forgive me, and don’t let
me use any more pink cotton ever. Amen.”
Then Maud’s head dropped on her pillow and
with a relieved little sigh she fell asleep, and
no kittens with two heads troubled her rest.

Pansy, |

.
|

SE ES an

:



PUNISHING AN ELE PHANT.—THE HARD TEXT.



UNISHING AN ELEPHANT.

ae elephants resemble men in their lia-

bility to sudden outbursts of passion, and
in their exhibition of remorse when, the passion
having subsided, they see the results of their
violenttemper, An illustration of an elephant’s
violence snd contrition is given by General
George Bell, in his “Rough Notes of an Old
Soldier,” written while he was serving in India.

While the party was in camp, a Mahout went
with his elephant to cut forage. As he was
binding it in bundles, the elephant began to help
himself and knocked about the bundles already
tied up.

The Mahout punished the beast for his dis-
obedience by a blow on the shins, which so en-
raged the elephant that he seized the man with
his trunk, dashed him to the ground and tram-
pled him to death.

No sooner had he killed his keeper than he
repented, roared and bolted for the jungle to
hide himself. Six other elephants, guided by

their Mahouts, followed him. On being driven.

into a corner he surrendered, and was led into
camp a prisoner, and chains were placed on his
legs.

Then came his punishment. An elephant
was placed on cither side, each holding a heavy
iron chain. As the dead body of the Mahout
was laid on the grass before hin, the clephant
roared loudly, being perfectly aware of what he
had done.

A Mahout ordered the two elephants to pun-
ish the murderer. Lifting the two heavy chains
high in the air, with their trunks they whipped
him with these iron whips until he made the
camp echo with his roars of pain. Te was
then picketed by himself, and an iron chain at-
tached to his hind leg, which he dragged after
him on the march, — Selected.

Do you know a people in Burmah called the
Karens? It is said that they have sent thirty
thousand dollars in one year to the Baptist Mis-
sionary society, to be used for foreign missions !
Don’t you think Burmah would better send
some missionaries to this country to teach us
how to give?

THE HARD TEXT.
(Like.)

Ye are the salt of the carth.— Matt. v. 13.

F course you know that salt is used tc save
things; meat, for example. And you
know that ye — Christians — are not galt in sach
asense. Suppose you use the little word like,
as one does a key, and see how many such texts
you can unlock, thus: Ye are like salt. Now
see, if you can, what likeness there is between
salt and Christinns,

Then try this dite on verse fourteen. Try it
on Matt vii. 15: vi. 18; John x. 14,7: xv. 1.
Into ever so many such verses put this key, dike,
and quickly the door of difficulty will fly open.
Look, and you will find this very key in Matt.
xiii. 81, 88, 44: xxiii. 27; James i. 6.





HELEN’S SACRIFICE.





HE was feeding Sport the kitten with
asilver spoon, smiling over the curious
3 way in which the little pink tongue
lapped up the creamy drops.

Tabby, the mother, meantime sitting on the
easy chair, with her tail curled gracefully over
her paws, looked on, well pleased with the pere
formance. She had enjoyed her saucer of milk,
having eaten it in her own fashion, without any
spoon, a way that she very much preferred.
But every one to his taste, and if her Sport was
to be brought up to use silver spoons, why, she
was willing.

Before Sport’s supper was over, Mrs. Car-
penter locked in as she passe