Citation
Happy holidays

Material Information

Title:
Happy holidays a volume of pictures and stories
Cover title:
Happy holiday stories
Creator:
Nister, Ernest ( Publisher, Printer, Author )
Bennett, H. M. (Harriet M.) ( Illustrator )
Lucas, Seymour ( Illustrator )
Maguire, Helena, 1860-1909 ( Illustrator )
Weatherly, Frederic Edward, 1848-1929 ( Author )
Glasgow, Geraldine R ( Author )
Molesworth, Olive ( Author )
Brown, Maggie ( Author )
E.P. Dutton (Firm) ( Publisher )
Place of Publication:
London
New York
Publisher:
Ernest Nister
E.P. Dutton & Co.
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
1 v. (unpaged) : ill. (some col.) ; 25 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile literature ( lcsh )
Children's stories ( lcsh )
Children's poetry ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1895 ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1895 ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1895
Genre:
Children's stories
Children's poetry
Spatial Coverage:
England -- London
United States -- New York -- New York
Germany -- Bavaria
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
Date of publication from inscription.
General Note:
Contains prose and verse.
Statement of Responsibility:
illustrated by Harriett M. Bennett, Mrs. Seymour Lucas, Helena Maguire, etc. ; written by F.E. Weatherly, Geraldine R. Glasgow, Olive Molesworth, Maggie Brown, E. Nesbit, etc.

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:
026630457 ( ALEPH )
ALG4021 ( NOTIS )
231756611 ( OCLC )

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Holidays.

ALKS and talks when the songbirds sing,
Carols to tell of coming Spring.
Summer Holidays, gladsome days
Spent in the golden sunshine rays.
Autumn hours, when the leaves of brown
From bough and branch come rustling down.
' Fireside holidays, when the rain
Patters and beats at the window pane.
Laugh, my little folks, laugh and sing,
Whatever the changing seasons bring;
Summer or winter, rain or sun,
They're Happy Holidays everyone.
Clifton Bingham.





@











eal Volume of Pictures a

and Oteries ,
Iffustrated by :
Parrett (2 Dennett. D'S Seymour Lucas,
Re lene Daguire i Go






— “Written by
FE Weatherly
Geraldine RN. Glasgow
Olive Dolesworth,
(aggre Brown.

CL TNES OIG Ge,

London: ‘ New York:
€.P Dutton &C?

Ernest Nister Printed in Bavaria.



Introduction,

T was very dull. Dorothy went and looked
ft out of window, but that only made her
feel more miserable still, for the rain-
drops were streaming down the panes of glass
so thick and fast she could hardly see out,
and what there was to see was all blurred
and wretched—people hurrying under dripping
umbrellas; mud, fog, and gas lamps mistily
shining. Dorothy crept back to the fire, and
crouched down by the fender, and wished
Martha would come and light the lamp.

But Martha didn’t come. She was upstairs,
helping Mother with Baby, for Baby was very
ill. Dorothy was very sorry Baby was ill, but
then it was rather aggravating his getting
bronchitis, just in the Christmas’ holidays too,
and when Father had been called away suddenlv
on business abroad. Poor Dorothy felt herself rather injured.

It grew darker, and darker! Now all the room was in shadow save for the fire-
light, glancing here and there on the polished furniture. Outside it was quite, quite
night, and the rain poured down steadily. Dorothy could hear it trickle, trickle down
the pipe somewhere. It seemed to make her feel more miserable still.

Who was that ringing? Yes, it was the front bell. There it came again—and
again. Martha must be deaf not to hear it. Dorothy ran out into the hall and
listened. No, there was no one in the kitchen. Martha must be upstairs with Mother
and poor Baby, and Cook must be out. Oh! there it was again—“ring! ring! ring!”
Perhaps she had better open the door and see who it was?

It was rather an undertaking, that of opening the front door. Dorothy had to
stand on tip-toe to’reach the latch, and before it was undone she was rather out of
breath. But at last she managed it, and there, on the step, stood a boy, in a shiny
mackintosh cape, streaming with wet, and with a parcel in his hand.

“Please,” he said, in a squeaky voice, “does a little girl named Dorothy live here ?”





“Yes,” said Dorothy, “that’s me. I live here.”

“Oh! that’s all right,’ he said, in a tone of relief, “Here’s a parcel for you.”

“A parcel,” gasped Dorothy; “a parcel—for me? I—I—think it must be a
mistake. .Where does it come from?”

“Oh! it isn't a mistake,” said the boy, nodding. “It is allright. It’s from the
Story Shop, and it’s got your name wrote outside. Here it is,’ and he pushed a
Square packet into Dorothy’s arms, and then ran down the steps, whistling.

Dorothy stood a minute quite stiff with surprise. Then as the rain came beating
in at the door, she thought she had better shut it. Then she looked at her parcel.
It had her name outside in large letters—she could read it quite easily. It was a
brown-paper parcel, it was rather wet, and it felt hard. Perhaps she might as well
look inside.

Dorothy went slowly into the dining-room. The lamp wasn’t lighted yet, but
the fire had blazed up and made a beautiful bright light. She. sat down on the
hearthrug, and untied her parcel.

Inside was a nice interesting-looking book, with a picture on the cover. Dorothy
gave a cry of joy. “Oh, what a lovely book!” she said aloud, though she was all
alone; “and what a lot of
beautiful stories—‘The Golden
Rule,’ ‘Fruit and Flowers,’ ‘Remi-
niscences of a Doll,’ ‘Multipli-
cation is Vexation.’ Ah! what
happy holidays I shall have
after all, with this book to read.”

Dorothy settled herself more
comfortably on the hearth-rug.
She began to read the first story,
and in two minutes had forgotten
the rain, the bronchitisy Baby,
the dulness, and the neglect of
Martha.

She was far, far away in
Storyland and the land where
all the well-known figures in
Nursery Rhymes live, where all
good boys and girls love to
be, where it is always warm,
always beautiful, and never—no,
never dull!







her.

ttle Mot

i

L



Tiiffle. {Mother

I you please I’m little mother.
I've a family of ten;
There’s three dollies, and a puppy,
And five chickens, and a: hen.

Every morn I feed my chickies;
Wash and dress my dollies three;
Take my puppy for a scamper—
So I’m quite a busy bee.



If I didn’t love them dearly—
Hen and chicks and dollies too—
I should think it dreadful trouble,
But I love them all—I do.
Clifton Bingham.

©) sf
pe Se, fl Rairy Flower Cledding.
HIE Blue-bells are ringing the wedding chimes.

Through the woods the guests are pouring, to the fairy wishing-well.

For a wood-fairy is going to marry a flower-fairy. And slow -
old snails hurried along, leaving a silver path for the bride to traverse ;
while glow-worms took up their stations, at irregular intervals, to light
the happy couple on their way; and bats spread out their wings, and made a canopy
for the invited guests; and fire-flies flew here and there, gleaming with a thousand
coloured lights.

The guests streamed in, and took their places, round the old moss-covered well
in the wood. The “Buttercup” sat next to the stately “Ladyfern,” whilst dainty
“Sheep-parsley” gossiped with ‘“Harts’-tongues,” and “Heather” and “Ragged-Robin”
sat in the porch with the white “Star of Bethlehem,” and the “Pimpernelle” seated
herself on the “Goose-grass,” and the “Daisy” and the “Cuckoo-flower’ stood hand-

in-hand, behind the wild red “Sorrel.”
Hark! a burst of fairy music, and the tall Field-grasses wave their green banners,

cy
,
‘






and the “Dog Violets” bark for joy,
and chase the pale “Primroses” to the
edge of the fountain.

The “Blue-bells” and the “Hare-
bells” ring merrily, and form up into
two long lines, through which the
bride and bridegroom pass, and the
“Lords and Ladies’ follow in the
procession. And the bride steps fear-
lessly with her lord, looking proudly
in his handsome face, smiling brightly
on all around her, while he doffs his
“Acorn” helmet, and bows graciously
right .and left.

He is the chief of the fairies who
guard forest and fruit trees. His face
is bronzed and sun-burnt, like a “Beech” .
nut, his dreamy eyes are as black as “Sloes,” and-his lips as red as “Cherries.”
His long scarlet stockings are woven from the skin of “Hawthorn” berries, his doublet
and hose are made of “Copper Beech’’-leaves, slashed with crimson “Bramble,” his
sharp pointed sword is “Pine-needle,’ and in his long tanned “Fungus’-leather boots,
“Knight-spurs” jingle.

But now all eyes are turned to the bride.

“Wild roses” nestle in her. cheeks, the white “Hawthorn-blossom” is on her

breast and arms, sweet “Violets” shine in her eyes, and “Honey-suckle” clusters and. :
twines in her golden hair, all shining and glistening like straw.
; Her blushing face is half hidden by the dainty veil of “Ladies’ Lace,” and her
dress sparkles with the colours of the rainbow, woven into gossamer spiders’ web,
draped with gauze wings. The ‘“TFox-gloves’ have sent her the mittens. And the
bride and bridegroom kneel down together, and the setting sun and the rising moon
marry them—-henceforth they are one. :

Where the forest trees grow, there the wild flowers are loveliest, and wood and
field and meadow are never separated from them, and they kiss each other, and swear
to be faithful and true. :

All the flowers and trees crowd round them, and wish them joy and happiness ;
and two little blue flowers go before, crying, “Speed well” and ‘Forget-us-not.”

The fairy wedding is over, and the birds are singing, and the fountain is bubbling,
and the wood is full of beautiful flowers, and each one has a story to tell you.
Foan H. Becker.





Home.




\\ HEN I'm big, I'll be a sailor,

) Sailing o’er the ocean free,

y Seeing all the wondrous countries .
Far across the bright blue sea!

But however far I wander,
And wherever I may roam,
Pll remember Mother always—
For where Mother is, is Home!
C. B.

The Swallows’ fest.

. T was Spring-time, and little Alice had been out into the garden to
“see if she could find a few violets» for Father's buttonhole.

She had picked quite a large bunch of them, and came dancing
into the house again, her cheeks aglow and her eyes sparkling. “Oh,
Mother,” she cried, “the swallows are coming back—come and look. I
know they are our swallows, for they are wheeling round and round the
pond just like they did last year. Do you think any of them will build
their nest under my window again ?”

“T can't say, my dear,” said Mother, “but I think it is very likely.
Is the old nest there still ?”

a “No, Mother. Don't you remember it was blown away in the great

storm, just before Christmas ?”

Very soon Alice's doubts were set at rest, for a pair of pretty little swallows:
after circling round the house for some time, evidently intent upon choosing a cosy
corner in which to.build, settled on Alice’s window-sill, and shortly afterwards began
making a neat little home for themselves, out of mud, hay, and wool. The hay and
the wool were used to line the nest, and to keep snug and warm the five pretty
eggs which Mrs. Swallow placed there.

By-and-by the eggs cracked, and out came five wee heads, and five pairs of bright
black eyes gazed enquiringly into Alice’s face, as she leant from her window to watch
them. What a comfortable home the mud nest was, and what a happy family were ©








the swallows! They thought themselves quite safe in their nest under the roof, but
alas, poor birdies! there was a terrible misfortune in store for them. One day two
boys were coming along the lane which ran past the back of Alice’s home, and spied
the nest. They saw the old birds fly out to fetch food, and guessed there were young -
birds in the nest. :

From that moment they made up their minds to steal the nestlings if they possibly
could. Of course, they could not reach the nest, but they climbed the garden wall and,
with a long pole, managed to knock down the poor swallows’ pretty home.

The parent birds were away, but the nestlings in their fright made such a
screaming and a squeaking, that Cook came running out to see what was the matter.

“You bad boys!” she cried, when she. saw what they had done. “Oh! what will
Miss Alice say, and she so set on them birds!”

Alice did not say much, but she cried so bitterly that it was all Cook could do to
comfort her. es ; 5

“See here, dearie,’ Cook said, fondling Alice’s curls, “don’t you cry no more, and
we'll see if we can’t make them another nest.”

“Oh! Cook, could we?” said Alice, brightening up at once. “Oh! do let us try.”

‘So Cook got a small box and lined it with soft wool, and then placed the poor
little birdies in it, and set the box. on Alice’s window-sill. When the old birds came
home it was very sad to see theif grief on finding the nest, which they had taken so
“much pains to build, broken and spoilt, but they had their babies still, and soon these
brave little birds determined to build themselves another nest.

Then what do you think Happened? Why, another pair of swallows, who lived
next door, set to work to help them. First Alice’s swallows would fly to the pond,
round which was an abundance of clay, and, bringing a piece of it in their bills, .
would dab it on the wall; then their neighbours came with their load, and so on.
At last the house was all built up again, and with great difficulty the parent birds
helped their young ones into it.

Then there was a rejoicing. It seemed -as though Mr. and Mrs. Swallow invited
all their friends to a merry-making, for such a twittering and chattering was never
heard. They all flew round and round the house, now swooping almost down to the
ground, and now soaring up into the sky. At last it grew dark, and then they all bade
each other good-night, and went home to bed.

No one ever attempted to disturb the swallows’ nest again, so that the swallow
family lived there happily until the cold weather came, when, to Alice’s regret, Mamma
and Papa Swallow and their five children, who were good big birds then, spread their
wings and flew away to warmer climes.

“Never mind, Alice,” said her Mother; “they will come back again in the Spring.”

And they did.











Princess
Pearl.

CHAPTER I.

€€P down at the bottom of the
LD sea there is a fair city where
the mermaids dwell. Some ©
: night, if you are very good, when all
— .the world is sleeping, I will come for
you, and carry you away in my arms to see this city. The houses are built of rocks,
covered with green sea moss, the rooms are carpeted with soft sand, and the windows
are curtained with every variety of sea-weed. The gardens are planted with the most
wonderful flowers you ever saw, and the little mermaids and mermen sport all day
with gold and silver fishes, tiny crabs,'and baby lobsters.
You will think that no one could possibly be unhappy or discontented in such
a pretty home—yet there once lived a little mermaid who was very discontented with
her lot. She had one day floated to the surface of the sea, and had seen a group
of children playing on the beach. They made chains of flowers, and danced round and
round till they were tired; then they iay still and laughed and laughed, because—well,
simply because they were so happy. Their mother came and called them home, and
they ran to her and put their little arms round her, and she kissed them and said,
“Have my bairnies been happy?” “Oh, so very happy,” said the children. Then they
went away, and the little mermaid sighed and said, “I wish I were a little mortal, to
play all day in the bright sun.” Then she sank down to her rocky home, and sat





thinking, thinking, thinking. The other little mermaids came flocking round her, and
asked her to come and play with them, but she shook her head sadly, and said she
was tired of playing with shells and crabs and lobsters.

Day after day she floated to the top of the sea, and each day the longing to be
a mortal grew in her breast, till at last she summoned up courage, and went to an
old witch mermaid, and asked her if she could possibly turn her into a little mortal.

“Ugh!” grunted the old witch, “and what do you want to be a mortal for?”

“Because they are so happy,” said the little one.

“Not so happy as you are down here,” said the witch. “Still, you may have your
way, but remember, I can make you a mortal on one condition only:—If you are
happy all will go well, but if you are so unhappy as to weep, the spell will be broken,
and you will be doomed to return to the bottom of the sea and weep your life away.”

The mermaid listened thoughtfully, and then said——

“Yes, I accept the conditions, for I am sure I shall never, never be unhappy if
only you will make me a mortal.”

So the old witch took a handful of red sand, and flung it into her cauldron. A
dense smoke arose and surrounded the little mermaid, who speedily lost all consciousness.

CHAPTER II.

When she came to herself again, she was lying in a gorgeous cradle, and a rosy-
cheeked maiden was bending over her.

“Well, little baby,” she said, “so you've come at last. Do you hear the bells ringing
in your honour? Ah! it’s well to be a King’s daughter.”

Then the rosy-cheeked maiden, who was called Alice, took her up in her arms,
and carried her into the next room, where a lovely lady lay. “I have brought the
baby to your Majesty,” she said; “see what a lovely child she is.’ Then the King
came in, looking so happy. He bent down and kissed both the Queen and the baby.

“We were happy before,” he said, “but God has been very good, and roe us
still greater happiness. What shall we call our darling?”

“I think,” said the Queen, “we will call her Pearl,” and the baby lay and smiled,
and thought what a- world of happiness it was.

Little Pearl grew and flourished—the idol of the King and Queen, and the pet or
the whole Court. Sweet-tempered and gracious to all, they all loved her, and vied with
each in trying to make her happy.

Sometimes she thought of the old days when she had been a little mermaid, and
once she said to the Queen: “Before I came to you, Mother, I was a little mermaid
and lived at the bottom of the sea.” But the Queen laughed, and said, “Little Pearl,
little Pearl, you have been dreaming.”

Then Pearl remembered the children she had seen playing long ago on the sea



beach, and said, “Mother dear, are there no little children to play with me?” And
the Queen answered: “There are many children in the land who will be only too
pleased and proud to play with the Queen’s daughter. I will send for one to come and
play with you.” And Pearl laughed, and clapped her hands.

The next day a pretty little girl came to Court, and Pearl was delighted. She
kissed her, and took her to see her toys, and said, “Choose what you will, dear little
girl, and you shall have it for your own.” But the child said, “If I may choose what



I please, I would like to go home to my Mother. I was so happy at home, but the
Queen sent for me, and I was brought here, but I cannot be happy away from Mother,

even with you, Princess Pearl.”

Then Alice, the Nurse, said crossly, “Thou art a wicked, ungrateful child, and dost
not deserve to live with my sweet Princess.”

But little Pearl said: “Do not cry, little girl. Play with me a little while, and
to-morrow your Mother shall come and see you.”



So the two children played together all day, and the next day-the child’s Mother
came to Court, and little Esther was happy again. But the Mother could not often
come to visit her little girl, and so one day she begged the Queen to allow her to
take Esther home again, but the Queen said, “No; it pleases the Princess Pearl to



have ittle Esther here; therefore, she must stay-—-the Princess must not be made
unhappy.” .

But day after day Esther grew paler and paler, and not all the fine presents that
Pearl lavished upon her could make her forget her Mother. Then Pearl said, “Little



Esther, if you cannot be happy here with me, then you shall go home to your Mother;
but it will grieve me sadly to part with you.”

“Then, indeed, she shall not go,” said Alice. “Perchance a good whipping will
cure her sour looks,” and therewith she fetched a stout whip and commenced to
belabour the trembling child.

For one second Pearl stood gazing in astonishment, and then, as little Esther
screamed in agony, she burst into tears.

Alas! the spell was broken! Pearl fell fainting to the ground.

They carried her into the stately castle, and fetched physicians from far and wide.
But these all shook their heads, and said they could do nothing for little Pearl, for
she was dead. The King and Queen stood weeping by her side.

“Alas!” they said, “she was too good and pure for earth. She has broken her
gentle heart over the sorrows of a poor peasant child.”

CHAPTER III.

But Pearl was not really dead: she was sitting in her old rocky home, weeping
her life away. The mermaids and mermen stood afar off, and gazed in wonder at
her. “Ah,”. said they, “she has lived in the great world and learnt its sorrows—that is
why she sits and weeps.” /

The little fishes came swimming about her, trying to tempt her to play with them
once more, but the oysters came close up to her, and opened their shells in astonish-
ment, so that, as she wept, the tears rolled down her cheeks and feli into the oysters’
mouths and were swallowed up!

Then when little Pearl had wept herself away, the oysters shut up their shells
with a snap, and went away home to bed. They did not sleep very well, however,
for a fisherman came and put some of them into his basket, and took them to the
market to be sold.

The King’s cook came to the market and bought the oysters, but when he opened
them he saw a beautiful strange seed in each shell. He did not know they were
the Princess’s tears, but he thought them so pretty that he carried them to
the Queen.

When the Queen saw them she said—

“They are so lovely and so pure that they remind me of my little Pearl. I will
make a necklace of them, and wear them in memory of my lost darling.”

And now, if anyone is very, very good and true, people say, “She is as pure as
a pearl,” for nothing can be lovelier or purer than tears of pity shed for the sorrows

of others.
Lucy L. Weedon.





Goung Jr. and {M2rs. Grow.

WO very-well-brought-up young Crows, who had grown too big to live with
n- their Mamma, and too hungry to visit their great-uncles and aunts very often,
made up their minds that, as soon as ever the nice sweet Spring came round,

they would set up nest-keeping all on their own account.

So when St. Valentine’s Day arrived, they flew here and they flew there. They
poked their busy bills into the fork of a tree, and tapped it, and cast their dark bright —
eyes around the tree’s root, and tapped it. The fact was, they were a too particular
couple of Crows.

At last, after a great deal of searching, and prying, and tapping, and peeping, they
found a tree which suited Mr. Crow completely, and Mrs. Crow, well, perhaps three-
quarters.

“You see, Mr. Crow,” said his mate, “we must not be too hasty in our selection
of a site. There’s the wind to be considered, and the dust to be considered, and
several other odds and ends, which you, Mr. Crow, know little or nothing about.”

“Well, when I lived at home with my Mamma——” began Mr. C.

But Mrs. C. interrupted him—

“If there's one thing that annoys me more than another, my pet, it is those
stupid stories you tell, which usually begin, ‘When I lived at home with my Mamma’!
But I’ve made up my mind’—here the lady bird danced a quaint little hornpipe, to



show that really she kad made up her mind—“and we will build our nest on that
bonny bough! Now, may I trouble you to pass a few straws, please ?”

Poor Mr. Crow was so surprised that affairs had been so quickly settled, that he
blinked twice, and then nearly toppled over.

“Hallo, there!” cried some Crows perched up aloft, “what are you doing?”

“Foundationing !” answered Mrs. Crow quite grandly.

“Be off!” cried an old lady Crow, with a terrible gruff voice.

“Madam,” piped Mr. Crow, in a regular tiff, “do you know that you are addressing
my better—much better half?”

“Be off!” cried the old lady Crow again. “Away with you! We want no silly
young couples here. Why, this is the very best and finest tree in the rookery, and
tenanted by the wisest and most venerable birds!”

“Do you know, when I lived at home with my Mamma
Crow. But the old lady Crow interrupted him with—

“Nonsense! See, all the crows are laughing at you!”

“Except grand-dad in the corner there,” struck in another elderly female Crow,
“and I see he is smiling all round his beak and half way down his back!”

Then you should have seen the tussle which followed, for as fast as the nice
and particular young couple tried to build a nest—and they did try hard—all the old
crow couples, uniting together, very quickly pulled it to pieces. There were sticks

~ flying here, and straws flying there; and the wool they

= had gathered tickled their beaks, while the dust that they .
raised got down their throats—till, good gracious me!
what a fuss and a scene there was, to be sure!

At length, thoroughly tired and beaten, young Mr.
and Mrs. Crow flew away, and alighted on a bramble-bush.

“’Pears to me,” — said
Mr. Crow, blinking sideways,
“pears to me, my love, we've
been ‘snubbed !”

Mrs. Crow waited awhile. -
But as her mate said nothing
about “when he lived at
home with his Mamma,” she
sighed and said—

“Any place will do to
build in now, darling.”

“Well,” said Mr. Crow,
shaking his head, “old couples

’ volunteered Mr.








seem to think that young couples should not begin nest-keeping at the top of high
trees, but must work their way upwards. So suppose we build our nest just where
we can, eh?”

“Oh, very well, my dear,” said she; “a middle-class tree will do for me; in a
stick-and-mud nest quite happy I'll be. For trees keep on growing and growing, you
see; and some day (in this, I think you'll agree) we may yet live high up in the
world, Mr. C.!”

Mary Boyle.

Al Jolly Ride.

ERE we go round the Nursery floor,
Round the table, and past the door;
Jigetty jog, and joggetty gee—
That’s the way for Marjy and me.



Here we go up, and here we go down,
All the day to Elfin Town ;

And if Dolly won't ride, Dolly must drop,
For we can’t bother to stay or stop.

— a) What shall we see when we get there?
a —, Kings and queens and palaces fair.
And what will the fairy people cry
As Marjy and I come riding by?

We'll see the folks ride up and down,

Some on gray and some: on brown ;

But there’s not a horse in the world so wide,
Half as good as the one we ride.

For he can gallop and he can trot,
And as for whipping, he wants it not;
But he carries us up, and carries us down,
All the day to Elfin Town.
LE. Weatherly.



Fruif and Flowers.

C6 RAN DMOTHER ,” said Meg, “did you hear what the minister said about
CG. the Fruit Show and the flowers? There’s blackberries and such like.”
“Well, they’re not likely to come your way, child,” said Mrs. Meadows
breathlessly. She was old, and the wind and rain tired her.

“You don't know,” urged Meg, a little tremulously; “no one don’t know. There’s a
place—-ever such a way off. Oh, Grannie, what if I could pay a bit towards the rent?”

“Rent ain’t so easy come by,” said her Grandmother, and she sighed.

It was always the dream of Meg’s life to pay something towards the rent; so she
held her heavy umbrella lower, and walked along
the wet footpath, saying the minister’s words over
and over to herself.




se a ale se
BS HS ae *

“Where are you going, Meg?” said the school-
mistress. ‘Your lessons to-day are disgraceful, and
you have not proved your sum. I must
keep you in.”

It was Wednesday afternoon, and
the day was warm and beautiful.

Meg's brown eyes were full of
tears, and her lip was trembling.

“Please,” she said, with a
hot clasp on the teacher’s skirt,
‘not to-day. I'll be better
afterwards, but I have a deal
on my mind.”

“Indeed,” said the teacher,
with a quick look at her, “I
think you have always some-
thing on your mind, Meg.”

“Tt’s the Show to-morrow,”
said Meg breathlessly, “and I’ve se
brought a basket, and I know
a field with blackberries—and
the rent’s due Saturday.”



“IT see,” said the school-mistress very gently. “Go, dear, I am glad you should
get the blackberries.”

So Meg flew away, with her hair streaming, to a bit of grass lane, between two
farms, where the blackberries caught the early sunshine, and had ripened splendidly.

Meg did not waste a moment. One by one she picked the large, ripe fruit, and
set them solemnly in the basket, lined with red and yellow leaves. The grass was
very wet, and the briars scratched her, but, by-and-by, as she scrambled on, she was
conscious of some one else scrambling on the other side of the hedge. First she
saw a boot—a good, strong, rich boot—and then a blue wing, and a pair of very
blue eyes, peeping at her.

“Why, Miss Helen!” said Meg faintly.

“Yes, it’s me,” said Miss Helen. “I’m picking blackberries for the prize—I didn’t
know that anyone else knew of this place. Let me see yours. Oh, what beauties!
But mine are just as good. I have to be home by five, so I can’t talk any longer,”
she cried, as she sprang back through the hedge.

It was no use trying—as Granny said, Meg had no luck. “What did Miss Helen
want with the prize?” she said to herself bitterly, as she hurried blindly on.

There was a singing in her ears, and a dizzy feeling in her head, but still she
carefully picked the largest berries, and laid them on the leaves, and, by-and-by, at
a gap in the hedge, she pushed her way through, and jumped down. Close at her
feet was a basket of splendid berries, and far down the field, Miss Helen, with a
hooked stick, was pulling the branches down. Meg looked at the sudden temptation
at her feet. She did not hesitate a moment, but, with a little whisk of her skirt, the
basket toppled over, and she was back on her own side of the hedge again, picking
away as fast as she could, with a very white face and trembling hands. It was quite
five minutes before she heard Miss Helen’s voice again, and then, for a minute, her
heart stood still, till she saw the blue wing forcing its way through the hedge.

Miss Helen was holding out the empty basket, talking and gasping and pushing
all at once.

“Meg, look here, it has upset—all my blackberries! Oh, these tiresome prickles !
And I haven’t another minute. They were such beauties—isn’t it disappointing ?”

Meg's frightened eyes were on Miss Helen’s empty basket.

“Isn't it disappointing?” said Miss Helen again, impatiently. “I picked them so
carefully. I have been here a whole hour, and no one knows. Very likely Nurse is
dragging the pond by this time; the boys will be furious, and all for nothing. :
must go; I daren’t stay a moment longer. Well, it gives you the prize, Meg, any way.”

The blue eyes cleared a little, and the blue wing left off trembling.

“It was my own fault. I just hustled it down any way, and of course it tilted
over. Anyhow, I’m glad it’s you, Meg. Good-bye!”



Helen and the empty basket ran across the muddy field, and disappeared in the
lane, and Meg, with cheeks grown suddenly red, picked furiously, until the berries
were piled almost up to the handle, and it was growing late and dark.

“Yes, they are fine berries,” said her Grandmother, peering at them through her
spectacles. “They must have given you a deal of trouble picking, and I’m sure you
deserve the prize.”

Meg said nothing.

“Why, what's the matter, child?” said Mrs. Meadows, looking up from the basket
on her knee. “You've had no tea, and you're wonderful white. Set the berries on
one side, and eat a bit of something before you go to bed.”

But Meg could not eat—not with that condemning basket set before her! She took
it up hastily, and pushed it far back into the cupboard, and then she hurried over
her tea, and went to bed. She felt certain everything would seem better in the
morning !

And so it did! The sun shone, and she was very hungry,
and the blackberries were certainly beautiful, with their trim- ve
ming of red and yellow leaves; and, after all, as ry
Meg kept saying to herself, Miss Helen had no
need of the prize, and she wouldn't miss
it a mite. But, all the same, when she
stood amongst the crowd of children in the
tent, and saw the great red figure 1 Ae i, 2 -
across the handle of her basket, she shrank
away in a kind of terror. But there was no
going back! The minister had put on
his spectacles, and the other children
behind were pushing her forward; and
then, in a kind of hush, she heard her










own name—

“Margaret Meadows.”

She made one step forward,
and then she stopped. She tried
to speak, but it seemed as if no
sound would come—and then a
voice said, “She is fainting—give
her air.”

“No, no, no?’ cried out Meg,
in a strange voice. “I really
haven't no right to it;



it's Miss Helen’s by
rights.”

There was a mur-
mur of voices, and
the dense crowd of
children drew back,
and left Meg standing
alone in the middle
ofthe tent. The tears
were streaming down
her face, but she felt
brave now, and
happier. :

“She and me, we
was picking in the

same field,” she said, in a trembling
voice, “and [ tipped it over. They was the same as mine.”

Again dead silence, and Meg felt a tiny tug at her sleeve. One of the children
was clinging to her, and whispering.

“Oh, Meg, not before folks,” she said.

- Meg stared at her. What did the folks matter ?—all these fine ladies and gentle-
men, who had never seen her before, and would never see her again. Granny will
never forgive me—that was all that mattered.

“Tut, tut!” said the minister, “what does it all mean, eh, Helen? Here’s the five
shillings, Margaret, and I feel certain you will make good use of them.”

Meg looked round at the blank, unresponsive faces, and shook her head, and
folded her hands behind her. She wanted to make them understand how wicked she
had been, but her voice trembled so that she could hardly speak. Then the silence
grew terrible, and she stretched out her hands, and said, “Grandmother,” in a frightened
voice.

And then a wonderful thing happened. The ladies and gentlemen parted, and Miss
Helen ran forward, and Grandmother came hobbling in on her black stick, right in
front of everyone, with her face just the same as usual, and her knotted hands
trembling; and she came right up to Meg, and put her arm round her, and hid her
face from everyone in the folds of her thin shawl.

“1 think, sir,” she said, in her cracked old voice, “that what Meg means to say
is, that she hasn’t won the prize fair, and she don’t deserve it; and if you'll give me
room, ladies and gentlemen, I'll take her home.”

“Stop a bit, Mrs. Meadows,” said the minister. “Helen seems to know all about





,

it, and the half is Margaret’s anyway.” He came bustling to the front, and put the silver
piece in Mrs. Meadows’ hand; then he just touched Meg’s hair, and said, “Poor
Margaret,’ in a very kind voice; and the crowd began to melt away, and Meg and
her Grandmother were left alone.

When they were safe at home, and the door was shut, Meg knelt before the
cold hearth, and lifted her miserable brown eyes to the old woman’s face.

“T’m—I’m—ashamed, Granny,” she said.

“Ah, it’s a terrible feeling—is shame,” said her Grandmother.

“J thought I was all alone, with those hundreds of eyes on me,” said Meg
brokenly; “and then you came, Gran, just through all the grand folks, and hid
me from them, and spoke up for me—you as was always so proud like, and so
honest—and—and me so bad!”

“I know, you see,’ said Granny gently, and stroking Meg’s hair tenderly. “The
gentry, they don’t know all the bitterness of it to a young thing. You set your
heart on it, and then it don’t come no nearer, and the wicked thoughts come with a
rush. No; it takes a deal of wisdom to understand ali about it, but I’ve been that
way myself, child.”

There is only one little thing to
add to the story of poor Meg’s temp-
tation, but it is a pleasant thing, as
we find that last words
sometimes are.

When Meg was just
starting to school next
morning, she was surprised
to see a little note slipped
under the door, in a dainty
envelope with a crest. Out-
side there was written in
a straggling hand, “With
Helen’s love,’ and_ inside
was a receipt for a
month’s rent.

As Helen said next day
in the school-room—

“Paying people’s rent
is very pleasant. I wish I
could do it oftener.”

Geraldine R. Glasgow.








Dolly's Barber.

RAY, Barber, cut my Dolly's hair,
But please to take the greatest care;

I fear I’ve treated her most sadly,
It does want cutting very badly.

But then she’s had a cold, you know,
And so I thought I'd let it grow;

But now her cold has gone away,
And she must have it cut to-day,

Because to-morrow, if it’s fine weather,
We're going out to tea together.
Clifton Bingham.



The Golden Rule.

OR, nearly half an hour Maggie had been pushing the
shabby perambulator up and down the wide parade-
ground in the centre of the camp, for the drums and
fifes were playing tattoo, and Freddy liked to look at
the red coats and the smart bandsmen. Now it was
all over and he was fretful, and Maggie's tired little
voice went droning on at some funny little words she
had set to the tune of the “March Past” :—

“Freddy's got to go to bed—
Oh, dear! Oh, dear!

First some milk, and then some bread,
Whilst the men are drinking beer.

Freddy's bed is nice and clean,
But his legs are very queer.
He can’t sit in the canteen,



He can’t never have no beer.”

Her feet were very tired, and she stood first on one leg, and then on the
other, to rest them. A great many of the soldiers’ wives were sitting on their
doorsteps, with babies on their laps, and here and there a parrot, in a bright cage,
talked, like the rest, at the top of his voice. In the doorway of the hut where
Maggie’s Mother lived, a lady was standing, and Maggie saw that “Tuck,” the puppy,
had caught the braid of her skirt in his teeth, and was unravelling it.

She stopped the perambulator with a jerk.

“You lie still a minute, Freddy,” she said, “and be a good boy against I come
back. There's that bad dog of yours taking the trimming off the lady’s dress, and
he’s biting at the little lady’s shoes. Oh, you may laugh, you bad boy, but it ain’t
nothing to laugh at, I can tell you.”

She shook up his hard little pillow with one hand, and ran the perambulator
back, until one wheel was wedged on to an empty doorstep. Then she dashed across
the deserted parade-ground, with her lank hair flying from under her battered hat,
and her scanty cotton skirt flapping.

She touched the lady on the arm.

“Please, ma'am, Tuck’s eating off the young lady’s shoes,” she said. “And he's
got a tangle of braid off your dress.”



She knelt down, and took the puppy in her arms, giving it some futile slaps.

“Now be’ave yourself, Tuck, or you won't get no supper. Tell the lady you're
sorry—oh, you ain't sorry, ain't you?—don’'t you know how to be’ave yourself to the
Colonel’s lady ?”



She kept giving it little reproachful taps, as she rose to her feet, and
curtsied to the Colonel’s lady. Her Mother had run in for a needle, and was
kneeling on the steps stitching up the tangled braid. The little girl, whose long

brown legs and bronze shoes had attracted the puppy, came over and patted it
gingerly.



“This is Maggie, ma'am,” said Maggie’s Mother from her knees.

“Yes, I know.” The lady had a kind voice, and she looked compasconaiey
at the meagre frame, and thin white face, in which the dark eyes seemed so
pathetically large. “I think she looks as if a little change would do her good,
don’t you?”

Maggie pricked up her ears, and stared more than ever; but at that moment
there came across the parade-ground a shrill angry cry that roused her.

“Lor’, Mother, I was forgetting Freddy,’ she said. “Ill run and give him
enother turn. He’s that tired wi’ sitting, and hé don’t seem so happy to-night, may
be the puppy’ll amuse him.”

She dropped another prim little curtsy, and ran hastily away, the thin cotton
skirt outlining very distinctly the thinner legs it covered.

The lady looked after her thoughtfully. The angry cries had ceased, and she
was bending over the perambulator with a sort of premature tenderness in every
line of her body. Freddy had folded his arms round the puppy, and the pathetic
little voice was once again droning out its monotonous chant :—

“Freddy’s got to go to bed—
Oh, dear! Oh, dear!”

She broke off abruptly.

“There, the lady’s gone, and the little lady, and Mother's sittin’ waitin’ for us.
Lor, how my poor legs do ache—but it ain't nothin’ when you're used to it.”

She smiled her odd little wistful smile into Freddy’s tired face, and covered the
whining puppy with his guilt.

“No, you ain’t going to get any supper, not if you cry ever so. I don’t hold
wi spoiling children, nor puppies neither, and when it comes to eating the clothes
off the very back of the Colonel’s lady, there ain't nothing bad enough for you, and
I don’t know whatever’ll happen to you.”

She took the puppy out, with a determined shake, and set it down on the
‘doorstep. Then she put her small arms round Freddy and lifted him. He raised
his hands with difficulty, and clung to her, but his crippled legs hung uselessly
down. They were cramped with long sitting, and he whimpered as she rubbed
them gently, and carried him into the hut. Almost unconsciously her lips took up
the plaintive song where it had ended abruptly :—

“Freddy's bed is nice and clean,
But his legs are very queer.”

She put him gently in his Mother's arms, and stooped over him, with a very
bright smile.
“He’s wore out, Mother—the lady stayed so long.”



“T am afraid you are tired too, dear.”

“T’m never tired, Mother.”

“Well, go and get a breath of air outside, love, and I'll get Freddy to bed
as quick as I can—for I’ve a message to you from the lady.”

Freddy was fretful, and did not want to get out of his Mother's comfortable
lap, and into his corner of the large, low bed, that nearly filled the back room of
the hut. However, at last he fell asleep,
and she laid him gently down, without
disturbing him, and then came out, and
sat beside Maggie on the step.
ee The child laid her tired
fy “head on her Mother's knee,
/ and shut her eyes. In a
minute she was half asleep,
till the quiet voice roused her.

“Wake up, Maggie, I
have something to tell you.
The Colonel's lady knows of *
a place by the seaside, some-
where—where poor children’s
taken mm for a bit, and made
strong. She wants
you to get your
things ready by
next Friday, and the
Colonel'll pay your
way out of the
S Pat funds.”

SSS hy ie ee ae ae “Me, Mother!”
ww MGS, said Maggie. She
was wide awake now, sittmg up, with her keen, dark eyes fixed on her Mother's face.

“Yes, love, you; you've not had a bit of a change, dear, in all these three
years, and Freddy’s very wearing.”

She sighed, and lowered her voice, and put out her hand to draw Maggie back
on to her knee, but Maggie still sat upright, staring at her.

“Now, there’d be some sense in it if it was Freddy,” she said.

Mrs. Lappin looked at her anxiously.




















“You won't make a trouble about it, Maggie,” she said; “the lady’s taken a
deal of trouble. It’s a nice sea, with shells, and such things—and you always were
one for the sea.’

“When I was a baby, Mother,” said Maggie contemptuously. “Where’s the good
of shells to me now? No, I won't make no trouble; I’m going to bed now.
Kiss me, Mother.”

“You're tired, love—shall I put you into bed as if you was a baby?”

“No; you wait for Father, and sit with him here a bit. I’ll manage well enough
by myself.”

She slipped into the grey room where Freddy tossed uneasily under the sheet,
and when she had said her prayers, she leant over him, and kissed him with passionate
tenderness.

Maggie rose at dawn next morning, and dragged her weary legs to the officers’
quarters, where the parlour-maid was taking in the milk. All the upstairs blinds
were down, but, through the open door, she could hear a child laughing, and little
snatches of song. She would not go into the kitchen, as the maid suggested, but
she sat down upon the doorstep, to wait till the mistress should come downstairs.
It was warm and sunny, and the air was drowsy, so she was almost asleep again
when a voice roused her.

‘Who is it? Oh, I see—Maggie. Your Mother has told you? Go and break-
fast in the kitchen first, and we will talk about the seaside afterwards.”

Maggie had stumbled to her feet, and her heart was beating with low thumps,
-but she had to speak.

“If you please, ma’am,” she said, “it’s about that; I couldn't go to the seaside,
not if it. was ever so. There’s no one to do a stroke of work at home but Mother
and me—I couldn't be spared.” .

“But it will make you strong, Maggie.”

“Pm as strong as I want,” said Maggie; “I don’t never ail nothing.”

The Colonel’s wife felt the thin arm she defiantly stretched out, and smiled.

“I don’t care for the sea,’ went on Maggie, her words tumbling on one another
in her eagerness. “It keeps on so—night and day; you can’t never rest for it.”

“But the shells, Maggie?”

The Colonel's daughter was dancing down the stairs with the same brown stockings
that Maggie had so admired the night before. She came and pushed her curly brown
head under her mother’s arm.

“Doris loves the shells, don’t you, Doris?” said the Colonel's wife. ‘And here
is a little girl who does not want to go to the sea.”

“Oh-h-h!” said Doris.

“No, I don’t want to—not a mite,” said Maggie quickly; “but Freddy loves



it, and, at the Home, I daresay, they would just as
lief have one as another.”

“But, Maggie,” said the lady gently, “it would
do you more good than Freddy—you are thin and
pale, and you are always tired. It would be
Freddy’s turn next year.”

“And who's to say he'll be here next year,”
said Maggie thickly. “It don’t mean nothing to
me—I hate the sea, but Freddy’s wanted to
go all his life.”

“You really hate the sea, Maggie?”

“Yes, I do,” said Maggie, with a red
flush on her thin cheeks.

There was a moment’s silence, then
Mrs. Resgrave said gently:

“Well, what do you want me to
say, Maggie?”

Maggie’s eyes filled with tears.

“T want you to let Freddy go, ma’am,
e ge instead of me. He’s such a poor little
chap, and he’s that heavy to drag about,
I can’t get him far; and I’d love to think
he was by the sea, with shells and things, to satisfy him.”

“Well, go and get your breakfast, child, and I will think it over.”

“Mother,” said Doris, as she skipped into the dining-room, clinging to her mother’s
dress, “how funny of Maggie not to like the sea!”

“J am not quite sure that she doesn’t, Doris,’ said her mother.

“But it is very wicked to tell stories,’ said Doris, with wide eyes, “and she
said she didn’t.”

“Tt is always wrong to tell stories, Doris,’ said her mother, “but there is a
golden rule, which I think Maggie is learning by heart, and when people are very
young, and very ignorant, they do not always walk in the narrow road. It is
a golden rule called Love, Doris, and it makes even a camp-hut a very happy
place.” | ;

“But, Mother,’ said Doris, “couldn’t Maggie come with us, even if Freddy goes
to the seaside? It wouldn’t be very dear, would it, if we told Nurse not to give |
us supper, and if we only had puddings once a week, just on Sundays, for Philip’s
sake—he likes Sunday puddings so much better than common ones?”

“Perhaps we could manage it without giving up the puddings, Doris. Eat your












breakfast now, and I will speak to Father, and we will go over and talk to Mrs,
Lappin again to-night.” .

Maggie, flushed and panting, burst into the hut an hour later, and flew into
her Mother’s arms.

“It’s all right, Mother—Freddy’s to go, not me. The lady’s put the other name
in the letter.”

“Oh, Maggie!”

‘Why, you didn’t think I’d go!” said Maggie indignantly, “and him and you
left here. Just to think of the selfishness of it! But it'll be all right now. You're
going to the sea, Freddy, where there’s sand, and shells, and crabs, and all sorts
of lovely things, and your poor legs ll get strong, darling, and you won't want to
be carried about no more.”

“But I wonder the lady let you change, dear,” said her Mother.

“Mother,” said Maggie soberly, “I had to be a bad girl, and tell a story about
it. I told the lady I hated the sea, and I wouldn't go nigh it. Do you think God'll
forgive me, Mother, seeing I did it for Freddy?”

“T daresay He will, Meg, but it seems a pity, love. It seems as if it spoilt the
pleasure of it a bit. There, don’t cry, gk a love, but help me to dress
Freddy against the lady comes. Father's f( 7A, just gone by with the regiment,
and he'll hear the band if we set him fe) on the step.”

Geraldine R. Glasgow.








Rilfy’s Costume.




CAN NOT dress you, Kitty mine,
In furbelows and flounces fine;
And as for dainty dancing-shoes,
They're not the things that you would use.

It would not do for you to wear
Feathers or flowers to deck your hair;
And neither fringe nor “bun,” ’tis clear,

Would suit your beauty, Kitty dear.

Nor should I like to see you deck
With gaudy gems your fluffy neck;
And as for bracelets, fans, and rings—

You can despise such silly things.
But just a knot of ribbon blue,

With my best love, I’ve got for you,
And two bob-cherries at each ear,

And you'll look charming, Kitty dear.

For folk may criticise your dress,
But, Kitty, I'll not love you less.
Whate’er it be, howe’er you go,
You are the dearest Kit I know.
I. FE. Weatherly.







(orrR, 1GHT
1895, r
BY ENISTER

Under the Mistletoe.








The Dandelion Puffs.

HE sun had just risen: and the morning dew
lay sparkling on the grass, hanging from the
tender green leaves like glittering jewels in a
royal diadem.

A blackbird was whistling in the thick
branches of an elm-tree, and on the fallen trunk of one
of its tall dead companions, a robin sat, thinking—he was so
very still. And fairies coming late home from their moon-
light revels, returned their red caps, and hung them up
neatly, in straight lines, on the green fox-glove stems from whom
they had borrowed them, collected the dew-jewels, and fastened
them in their gossamer coats, and hid them under wild-rose
bushes, and then disappeared themselves, leaving a toadstool to
mark their residence.

And timid brown hares forsook their bracken shelter and ran
home to their burrows, deep in the earth. Young thrushes twittered
in their nests, begging the old birds to teach them to fly.

Away they hurry, flapping their. tiny wings; beautifully clumsy—like a little
child learning to walk; falling as often, but never disheartened; screaming madly in
the sunshine, laughing merrily at their own awkwardness.

‘How well they succeed, all, but one—and the others shout for her to make
haste—and she hurries after them, half running, half flying.

“Back to the nest, children!”’—“Back to the nest!’—‘Hide yourselves !’—and
the old birds cry and beat their wings, driving the young ones before them, into
the hollow where buttercups and speedwell grow,—and the tall “sheep-parsley”
shelters them, as they bury their heads in the dark leaves.

“Are you all here?” and the mother bird hovers over them, scanning them
eagerly.

“Yes, “all,” comes back in breathless whispers.

“Why are you all so frightened? Why should we hide? JZ will see what
is the matter,’ pipes the eldest, and boldest flier: so he shoots his little black
head out of cover. He can see nothing to alarm them; the blackbird has left off
whistling, and the robin has vanished, but there is nothing to be afraid of; high
up in the sky he can see a little black speck; so he watches it fascinated, while his

little heart beats “thump, thump,” in his little body.



Suddenly there grew, out from nowhere, a black cloud, between him and the
sunshine, and he hears the mother calling wildly to him—‘Where is the little sister
bird?”—crying plaintively, “Come, come, my little one; we wait for you'—and
running restlessly to and fro, seeking: her. And the black cloud hangs over them,
and the bold little bird cannot take his gaze from it, as the little sister bird
flutters helplessly towards them, with wide-open staring eyes. Then a sharp, terrified
scream rings through the mie air, and some white blood-stained feathers fall
slowly to earth.

And then the little bird can see nothing but father and mother mixed up with
the cloud. Now whirling furiously round and round, now high, now low, struggling,
panting, striking desperately with their hard bills, fighting for dear life and the dead
little one.

And when he looks again, the ground is strewn with feathers, and the black
cloud is gone.

“Brave old birds!’—it was well and nobly fought.

But their wounds were many and sore, and their hearts are bursting with grief.
The little one lies, on a soft patch of turf, in a little pool of its own life’s blood,
and a strange flower with long, jagged green leaves is shielding it from the hot
rays of the morning sun, shaking the cool dew on its closed dull ‘eyes, fearlessly
lifting its own little bright golden face to catch each beam of light.

And the fairies rush out of their hiding-places, waving their bright swords of
sharp, shining pine needles, vowing vengeance on the cruel hawk who had killed
their minstrel, the little singing thrush.

And the mother bird cries softly, smoothing out the ruffled plumage, and the
little ones gather round her with awe-stricken faces, and the fairies stand round
“them all, building a little arbour of sweet grasses, and then they vanished again,
bidding the strange flower keep guard, for, they said to each other, ‘He is as brave
as a lion and as glorious as the mid-day sun.”

So the golden flower watched by the poor dead singing-bird, shielding his
mangled body from the burning heat, while the blackbird whistled, and the robin
hopped about for sympathy; and the old birds cried in inconsolable sorrow, till the
shadows grew long, and the sun sank to rest in his rosy cloud bed.

And the fairies trooped out again, with their glow-worm torches, and covered
the dead songster with dazzling jewels; and kind spiders wove her winding-sheet ;
and the nightingale sang the funeral dirge, while the evening star looked down; and
the brave little flower hung his golden head, and cried that he might not watch
any longer, because the sun had kissed him good night, and had tied on his green
night-cap, and he couldn't open his eyes—“they were asleep.”

And the full moon shore bright and clear in heaven, and smiled on him, and



said so kindly, “My
child, the fairies have
rightly said you were
as brave as a lion, *
and as fearless as the ¢
day. The good sun |
has made you golden | +
and beautiful, and Z will ... :
‘make you round and ~
silvery—so that you.
may also watch with
me, through the night,
with a hundred watchful eyes,—that will never sleep.”

And immediately, a pale round silvery globe of the most delicate seeds formed
themselves on the green stalk, where the golden blossom had drooped, and a tiny
yellow bud raised his head, and stood beside his valiant brother, waiting for the
morning sun to kiss his eyes open.

And the fairies joined hands, and danced round them—the new flower and the
old—and called them the “Dandy Lions’—because they were so dainty, and so strong,
and so pretty. ;

And so they grew together always—the “Sun blossom” and the “Moon flower
puff,” for ever the loving faithful guard of forest, of field, and meadow.

Foan Becker.




AA Grumble.

Z seems a very funny thing
That when it’s time to shut. my eyes,
The little stars should open theirs
All wide awake up in the skies.

I really think it is too bad

That I can’t watch them at their play.
I wish they didn’t go to bed

And do their sleeping through the day.

M. Hedderwich Browne.



Slumber Sona,



Â¥
f
“a
“O/ Sleep the Ferryman comes at night,
l With visage grave and grim,

To search for babes by candlelight,

And bear them away with him,




a

ea

=
ig

i Down Dreamland Bay, in a cradle boat
As snug as snug can be,
Where silver star-fish gently float
Beneath a blue, blue sea.

He rows them first, as the big sun sets,
To the land where the poppies grow,
And at sight of these they quite forget
Their Mothers who love them so.

They give to Sleep a nod and a wink,
As much as if to say:

“J like you well; I rather think
I'll go with you all the way.”

From Poppyland to Slumber-shore
Through wondrous sights «h y roam,
Then with the tide they turn once more,
And hoist the sail for home.

Now, why do they need a good-night kiss?
Is it the journey’s far ?
No; Sleep the Ferryman knows by this
Whose Baby-boy you are. _
Lily Oakley.



Multiplication is ‘Vexation.



THEL was very unhappy.
On a gay, golden June day

it did seem hard to be
cooped up in a_ stuffy school-
room, among inky exercise-books
and torn atlases, with a long
multiplication sum to do—six
lines, most of them nines and
‘sevens. That was because she
was sentenced to be kept in for
not knowing such a stupid thing
as that seven times nine are
sixty-three. And she had. the
long sum to do as a punishment.
Outside, the bees were humming,
and the others were having tea
on the lawn. Ethel Knew how
sweetly the scent of stocks and
sweet-williams mixed, with the
scent of strawberries.

“It’s too bad,’ she said.
“Seven times nine indeed—what
can it matter? JI shall never
ES have seven of anything nice, let

hoo alone seven times nine of it.”

“Ugh—scrape—screw—youp,’ said the slate-pencil. “What a very ignorant little
girl! Have you got a bit of ribbon?”

Ethel stared at it, and before she knew what she was doing she found herself
tying a dolly’s sash round the slate-pencil.

“There’s no time to wash our faces,’ it said. “But I feel a bit smarter now.
Come on!” and it took Ethel’s hand, and then she saw the slate she had propped
up against the arithmetic-book had changed into a door. She and the slate-pencil
hurried through, and found themselves suddenly in a wood.

“It’s very rude of you to drag me along like this,” she said. “You're only
a slate-pencil.”



“I can do sums. though,” said the slate-pencil sharply, “when I’m in proper
company.”

Ethel wished she hadn’t spoken.

“Youre not such a bad sort of little girl,’ the slate-pencil went on. “Tor one
thing, you never put me in your mouth when youre thinking. Perhaps that’s
because you never think. Now, what do you suppose sums are for?”

“To do the housekeeping-books,” said Ethel, “and you never want multiplication
for that—only addition.”

“Well,” said the slate-pencil, “I’m taking you to see some of the things multi-
plication is wanted for.” .

The next minute they were under a green.arch, and all around them thousands
of tiny fairies, all dressed in green and gold and white, were hurrying about in
every direction.

“Just as though they had lost their lesson-books and were late for school,”
thought Ethel. .

The Fairy Queen stood on a big mushroom in the middle, and called out
directions to everybody, in the sweetest voice in the world.

“Five thousand daisies on Ethel’s lawn at home—say twenty-five petals in each
fril—how many petals?”

“A hundred and twenty-five thousand,” cried dozens of tiny voices.

“Then look out the frills and fit them on at once.”

“Seventeen lilies in Ethel’s garden—two dewdrops each—how many dew-drops?”

“Thirty-four,” cried everybody before Ethel had had time to murmur, “Twice
seven are fourteen.”

“There are forty-seven rosebuds who don’t know how to open. It will take
three fairies to each rosebud—how many is that?”

“A hundred and forty-one,’ cried the slate-pencil, who couldn’t restrain himself
another moment.

“Right!” cried the pretty Queen, looking kindly at him, and then she went
on giving her royal commands. There were flowers to be fed and glow-worms to
be lighted, and little birds by millions waiting to be taught their night songs.

“How busy the fairies are!” cried Ethel. “I wonder how they ever get their
work done.”

“It's multiplication does it,’ said the slate-pencil, playing proudly with his sash.
“You can’t do that sort of thing with addition, like butchers’ bills.”

“But, of course, it’s easy for fairies,” said Ethel.

“Oh, is it?” squeaked the slate-pencil. “You come and see—that’s all.’

So off they went to the fairy school. The fairy school-children sit on little
benches, made of green rushes fastened together with rose thorns instead of nails.



They write on rose-leaves, with daisy petals for pens, and they are never, never,
never kept in!

The fairy who was teaching them asked them questions, and they all seemed
to remember what they had been taught.

“Would you like to put a few questions to the class?” said the fairy politely,
and Ethel asked the first question that came into her head.

“What are they doing at home?”



“Qh, that’s easy,” said the fairy, as all the little hands went up:—Because
fairies can see everything that’s going on all over the world.”

“They're saving cake for Ethel,’ said all the class, and when they all spoke
together it was like the pattering of soft rain on green leaves.

“Plain cake?” said Ethel.

“Yes,” said the head-mistress, Fairy Kindly. “Would you like it to be currant 2”

“Ol, yes,” said Ethel.





but she got him to help her with the sum; and as

- took great pains, she actually got it right the first time.
When the others gave her the cake they had

currant-cake, and there were fifty-six currants in each

Good Advice.

L

And you must be very

“Three pieces of cake for
Ethel,’ the fairy went on,
“with fifty-six currants in each
—how many currants will that
be?”

“One hundred and _ sixty-
eight,” cried the slate-pencil
hastily, and one hundred and
sixty-eight fairies started off
at once to put the currants in.

“Thank you so much,” said
Ethel. “I think I had better
go home and do my sum now,”
—for the thought of the cake
had made her quite hungry.

“Make a curtsy, and come
on, then,” said the slate-pencil,
and the next moment she was
rubbing her eyes in surprise
at finding herself back in the
school-room again.

The slate-pencil was lying
beside her, still wearing his
sash. He would not speak,
she worked very slowly, and

saved for her it really was
piece too—for Ethel counted

EE. Nesbit.

OU’ K€ invited out.to tea, Dolly,

good;

And don’t forget your manners,

And do nothing wrong or rude.
Let folk see you're a lady,
Though you're only made of w

ood.



Dof and Don.

NE bright afternoon in the middle of summer a girl of about eighteen
sat alone in a cool, shady drawing-room, reading a letter which had
just been brought in to her. As she read the end of it the door
opened and a lady came into the room.

“Oh, Mamma,” the girl exclaimed, “it is all settled—we are to have Dot next
week ; he'll arrive on Thursday. His mother says it will be a great help if we can
look after him during their removal, and that he is such a good, quiet little boy she
doesn’t think he’ll give us much trouble, and really, with Papa being ill, it is a good
thing she is not sending Don here, isn’t it ?”

“Certainly,” answered her mother, when she in her turn had read the letter.
“But how strange it is that two little brothers—twins, too!—should be so different
in character. From what Mildred says, Don gets more mischievous or naughty’
every day, and she could hardly trust him with us unless his nurse came too. I am
really glad we are not to have ‘the pickle’ on our hands.”

A day or two later Frances drove down to the station to meet her little cousin
Dot. The first thing she saw
as she walked on to the plat-
form was a very tall footman,
with an extremely red face,
holding a tiny boy in a sailor
suit firmly by the hand.

“That must be Dot,” she
thought, as the little boy turned
a pair of great blue eyes towards
her. “But I hope there’s
nothing the matter—I’m afraid
he’s been crying.”

The footman looked very
relieved as she came up to
‘him, but kept a firm hold
of his charge until Frances,
having made’ sure that
the child was indeed her
little cousin, took his other
hand in her own. .

“Twill drive him















home myself,” she said, “and his luggage
can follow in the cart. I suppose,’ she
added to the footman, who stood by
wiping his forehead vigorously, “that
you can go back by the next train ?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he answered eagerly, “
and departed; and a minute or two. later Franccs
and her guest were trundling along the shady lanes
at the best speed Frances’ fat pony was equal to.

“What a quaint little chap he is,” thought the girl,
as she only got a solemn nod in answer to every “4
questicn she put to her tiny cousin. “I wonder why he-won’t speak — I trust he’s
not home-sick already.” Then aloud she added: “I hope you'll be very happy with
us, dear—though I’m afraid you'll be dull without your Mamma. Youre her little
comfort, aren't you? She tells me she always calls you her ‘little comfort.”

For the first time her small companion opened his mouth.

“Did Mamma say that?” he asked slowly, in a solemn, surprised voice. ‘“Did
Mamma say I was her little comfort ?”

“Why, yes, darling, of course she did; and lots of other things. You see I know
all about you, Dot. She told me how good you are to Baby, and—what are you
looking so frightened at?’ she went on laughingly, as the child stared up at her
with an expression she could not quite understand.

“Nofink,” he answered slowly, while his face grew redder and redder. “I was
finking; only—but—I’ll be very happy with you because you're nice. I suppose
you are nice to me because Mamma said those things ?”

Frances again felt rather puzzled, but she had not time to answer, for just at that
moment they drove up to the front door of her home. She lifted Dot down from the
cart and gave him a kiss as she did so. Dot’s arms were immediately flung round her neck.

“Dear Francie,” he whispered, “please go on loving me and—and I'll be very good.”

The next day Frances wrote to Dot’s mother—her cousin Mildred—and told
her how pleased they all were with the little boy. Never, she said, had she known
such a dear loveable child, “though I’m afraid,” she wrote, “that he has. not much to
amuse him. Still, he seems very bright and happy.”

Dot meanwhile was growing more and more devoted to Frances, in whose care
he was almost entirely left; and though she, on her side, grew daily fonder of the
little boy, at times she felt that there was something she couldn’t quite understand.
For one thing, Dot seemed not to care to speak of his home—or of any home things !
Two days after his arrival Frances asked him what message he would like her to
send to his mother, to whom she was then writing.







“And to Don,” she added; “you want to send your love to Don, don’t you?”

Dot had moved away from her as she spoke, and gave no answer to her question;
so Frances repeated it. Then, to her surprise, he turned a very red face towards
her, and she saw that tears were not far off,

“I don’t want to send love to anybody,” he muttered crossly, and nothing that
Frances could say would make him explain what was the matter, though a few. minutes
later he ran up to her and said he was sorry for having answered so naughtily.

The next morning after breakfist a letter
came to Frances from Dot’s mother. She and
he were sitting together in the school-rcom.

“See here, Dot,” she exclaimed, before
she opened it, “a letter from your Mamma!”

Dot's face grew scarlet. He gave
a kind of gasp, and before Frances
knew what he was after, he rushed
up to her and pulled the envelope
out of her hands. He would
have torn it in pieces
had not Frances caught
him by the arm.

“My dear little boy,”
she said gravely, “what
on earth does this
mean ?”

* Dot stood silent
before her, his chest
heaving up and down.
Frances felt too puzzled
to know what more to say. The
letter lay on the floor between them;
she stooped down and picked it up.

“Francie, Francie,” cried Dot, running up to her again, “don’t read the letter!
oh, don't read it! If you won't I'll tell you what I’ve done! I've only been
purtending to be good; I’m the naughty one—I’m Don/ Dot got a cold and
couldn't leave Mamma, so she sent me instead. I was naughty about coming—
I kicked James hard the whole way in the train—I cried as loud as I could!
Then you were kind to me because you fought I was good—you fought I was
Don! So I purtended to be good, for you to love me, and now you won't love
me any more—oh-h-h !”














Dot—Don rather—here burst into a loud wail, which, however, did not reach its
full force as it was smothered on Frances’ shoulder.

“My darling little boy,” she went on saying softly, and each time she said it
Don gave her such a hug his arms really grew tired.

When, Jater on, Frances read the letter, she understood how the mistake had
first arisen. The servant who had brought Don as far as the station had forgotten
to give a note from the children’s mother which explained that, owing to his
having caught a severe cold, Dot was unable to go to his cousin’s, so she had—
in some fear and trembling it must be allowed—sent off Don in his stead.

Don stayed with Frances for another whole week, and during that time these two
had several long talks together. Don learnt to his surprise that the only thing Frances
thought he had done wrong was in not letting her know her mistake—not telling
her at once that he was Don.

“But I purtended to be good—that was naughty, wasn’t it,” said he uneasily.
“I felt all the time it was naughty to purtend.”

“You pretended to be- Dot, but I think you really éried,” said Frances.

Don's face cleared. “Then being good was real!” ane exclaimed delightedly.
“It’s easier than I fought! I'll go on wif it always now.”

“Yes, do,” see Frances, smiling; “though now and then you ‘ll find it will seem
difficult again.”

“Will it?” said Don sadly. “Still,” brightening up as he spoke, “I'll go on—for
Mamma will be so surprised if I turn into a comfit as well as Dot! Won't it be
nice, Francie?” — ee

“Very nice,” said Francie, and Don gave her another hug.

Olive Molesworth.

By-and-By.

S I came down the stair one day,

I met a little maiden gay ;

«, Please come and play with me,” said I.
“T will,” she answered, “by-and-by |"



“I’m very busy now, you see— So as I left her on the stair,
I’m playing with my doggies three ; Still playing with her doggies there—
I’d like to come and play with you, “I hope, my little maid,” said I,

But they will miss me if I do!” “Twill very soon be by-and-by.”



ayvmat









The

@overness.

c KNOW I shall hate her!” cried Jim.
“Nasty thing!” said Kate.
“Narlty fing!’ repeated Baby George.
“I don’t see why we should have a governess at all!” said Jim.
“It’s a shame!” said Dolly.
“That it is,’ said Jim.
And Baby George repeated, “A same.”
“Well,” said Dick, “I'll never do anything this Miss Tracy tells me—so there!
Come on, let's have a jolly good snowballing—she won't be here till to-night.



Aunt’s got some people coming to lunch, but they won’t interfere with us.”
And the children were soon busy rolling their big snowball — to make it even
bigger than before. \

Their Mother and Father were in India, and the children had been three months
with their Aunt, getting more and more unmanageable—learning nothing new and
forgetting everything they had learned—even their manners. So now they were to
have a governess—and she was coming that very evening.

But they soon forgot their troubles in the pleasure of their snow-play. ‘Come
on!” cried Jim, presently; “let’s have a battle—only soft balls, Dick, because of the
girls, You and Kate and Baby against Dolly and me.”

The forces divided, and the armies began to make ready their ammunition—piles of
small snowballs heaped in the convenient storage between the gnarled tree-roots.

Then they began the fight. Such pelting and running and dodging, such shouts of
laughter—the very lodge-keeper looked out to see what was going on, and went.
back to her house-work with a “God bless their little hearts !”

At first the two sides seemed evenly matched—but Baby was rather a hin-
drance because you had to be so careful not to hit him, and he often threw a
Snowball at one of his own side in mistake. Gradually Dick’s side was being driven
back towards the trees, and Jim was pursuing them with a shower of snowballs,
when suddenly a ball came flying from an unexpected quarter and caught him fairly
in’ the face.

He looked round. A very pretty young lady was standing by a tree, laughing
at him; when he turned she threw another snowball, and as-it hit him on the
arm, cried, “Go on! go on!—I’m on Baby’s side.” And after a moment’s pause
the fight went on. ,

But now indeed the chance of battle had changed. The new comer protected
Baby with her skirts, threw her balls well, and only laughed when she was hit.
At last the luncheon-bell. rang. .

“Oh, dear,” cried Dolly, “what a pity ! I suppose you're on your way to
have lunch with Aunty at one. Our dinner is afterwards at two. What’s your name?”

“Amy,” said the pretty young lady.

“You're a jolly good chap at a snow-fight, Miss Amy,” said Jim, “will you
play with us again ?” ,

“Oh, yes, if you'll have me. And now,. as you say, I must be going on.”

The children brushed the snow off her jacket and walked with her to the
house. When Baby said he was tired she carried him on her back. The children
were as metry as grigs, and chattered all the way, telling their new friend all
their troubles—particularly the one about the governess, which now came back to
them with fresh force after their delightful game.



os



A Good Shot





“It’s very hard for you, no doubt,” said Miss Amy, “but just think what it
will be for your governess! And you're not going to do anything she tells you !
I.am sorry for fer. I wouldn’t try to teach you for anything if you'd made ‘up
your minds never to obey me.”

“Oh, but we would obey you,” said Dick; “you're such a good fellow.”

“Yes,” said Kate, “you're pretty like our own dear darling Mamma in India.”

“I love oo,” said Baby, holding on tight round her neck.

“T wish you hadn't come only to lunch,” said Jim. “If you were going to be a visitor
you would sleep in the best room-—and you could help us against the horrid governess.”

“I’m afraid I couldn’t do that,’ said Miss Amy gravely.

“Why?” asked all the children at once.

“You.won't love me any more if I tn you,” she said.

“Oh, yes, we will, whatever you say.’

“Well, then,’ she answered slowly, “I couldn’t help you to be naughty because
—TI am the new governess!”

' “You don’t mean it?” cried the children, stopping short.

“But I do,” she said.

There was silence a minute and Miss Amy looked a little anxious. They had got
close to the house now—the next minute Aunt Ellen put her head out of the front door.

“Whatever is this dreadful. noise ?” she asked anxiously.

“Oh, it’s only us!” answered Dick. “We're giving three cheers for the governess.”

E. Nesbit.

Georgie’s ‘Penny.

“ OOD-BYE, Dorothy !” called Mother.
G “Good-bye, Georgie!” called Aunt Jeanie.




ee: Georgie ran to the Nursery window, and
ae ‘es bs waved his hand; but Dorothy curled herself up in the
arm-chair, and looked just as cross as a small girl can look.
“Come and play at something, Cousin
Dorothy,” said Georgie. j
Dorothy frowned.
“Won't you show me your new doll ?” said
Georgie.
Dorothy shook her head.
“Mother promised to take me with her,

”

she said.





“Well, but you have company,” said Georgie, “and you ought to be polite to your
company.”
“J didn’t want the company to come,”

Mother.”
“You're a cross old thing,” said Georgie, “and I wish the company hadn't come,”

and he thrust his hands into his pockets, and stared out of the window.
“It’s just like a girl,” he began, pulling his handkerchief out with a jerk.
Something rolled out of his pocket on to the floor.

Dorothy looked up. -
“There,” said Georgie, “now I’ve lost it. I quite forgot it was in my pocket.”

“What was it?” asked Dorothy, uncurling herself from the chair.
“A penny,” said Georgie.

said Dorothy ; “I wanted to go out with



Dorothy jumped down on to the floor.
“A penny!” she cried. “Why, Georgie, we'll go shopping.”

“We will,” said Georgie,
clapping his hands.

“Put on your hat,” said
Dorothy, “and I'll get mine.
I wish I could-wear my best
one, but I can’t reach the
box, and I don’t think I'll
ask Sarah to get it for me.”

“Never mind your best hat,” said Georgie; “girls always bother about their
clothes. Come on.”

“Come quickly downstairs,” said Dorothy ; “Sarah is in the garden, so she won't see us.”

Not until they were outside the front door did either of them remember the penny.

’ “I thought you had it,” said Dorothy. ane

“Well, we can’t get in again,” said Georgie; “we must go without it, Dorothy. We'll
just tell the shop pedple that we left the money at home.”

They trotted down the road quite happily.

Dorothy knew the way, and the shops were not very far from home.

‘Shall we buy a toy or sweets?” said Dorothy.

“T think a toy,” said Georgie, “I want a rocking-horse very badly ; but of course
we couldn’t carry that.”

“A rocking-horse,” said Dorothy, laughing. “You can’t buy arocking-horse witha penny.”

“Dorothy,” said Georgie, pointing to the pavement, “look there! It is beginning
to rain, and I shall get my new coat wet.”

“Boys sometimes bother about their clothes,” said Dorothy slyly. “We will wait
under this arch until it stops.”

But the shower was quite a sharp one, and the children quickly grew tired of waiting.

“I wish we had an umbrella,” said Georgie.

“We'll borrow one,” said Dorothy; “we'll ask the old lady at the china-shop to
lend us hers.”

Georgie looked at Dorothy admiringly.

They both ran quickly from the arch to the shop, and Dorothy walked boldly in.

The old lady was standing behind the countér, and she smiled at Dorothy.

“What does you: Mamma want, Missie?” she said.

“Nothing, thank you,” said Dorothy, “but I want an umbrella.”

“An umbrella!” said the good old lady. “I don’t sell umbrellas.” @

“Of course not,” said Dorothy, “I know that; but we don’t want to buy oné—we
want you. to lend us one.”





The old lady looked rather astonished, but she went into the parlour behind the
shop, and brought out a very large, very old umbrella.
said Dorothy ; “thank you very much.”

”

‘We'll bring it back quite safely,



CualHada ‘
4 OD

”

“We shan’t be long, you know,” said Georgie.
When the children got outside the shop, they found that the rain had almost

stopped, but Dorothy carefully put up the umbrella.



“J don’t think we shall want it,” said Georgie; “it’s scarcely raining at all. Shall
we give it back to the old lady?”

“Not until we've finished our shopping,” said Dorothy.

So the children marched along under the big umbrella. Dorothy found it quite
as much as she could manage.

“Oh dear, it is so heavy,” she sighed, after a few minutes.

“Well, put it, down,” said Georgie; “the sun is shining.”

“Perhaps I had better,” said Dorothy.

But it was far more easily said than done, and although both the children tried
their hardest they could not move it.

“Well, we must keep it open,” said Dorothy.

“We can’t go into any shops, then,” said Georgie. “I wish we'd never borrowed iL

“I can hold the umbrella and you can go into the shops, and then you can hold
the umbrella whilst I go into the shops,” said Dorothy. “Here is the sweet-shop—
what shall we get ?”

“Chocolate,” said Georgie.

“All right,” said Dorothy; “take the umbrella and I'll go in and ask.”

Georgie took the umbrella, and Dorothy walked into the shop. ane was a young
woman behind the counter whom Dorothy did not know.

“Have you any chocolate ?” said Dorothy.

“Yes, miss,” said the girl; “chocolate plain, chocolate drops, chocolate almonds,
chocolate creams, chocolate cakes—which will you have ?”

Much to the astonishment of the girl, Dorothy ran out of the shop.

“Georgie, do you like chocolate creams?” she said.

“No,” said Georgie; “but it’s my turn now; you take the umbrella, Dorothy.”

Dorothy took the umbrella, and Georgie marched into the shop.

“I want some chocolate, please,” said Georgie to the girl.

“So did the other one,” said the girl. “How much money have you?”

“A penny,” said Georgie, “only we shall have to—’.

“Georgie!” called Dorothy. And Georgie ran out of the shop.

“Georgie,” said Dorothy, “we must go home. I thought ¢
I saw Mother and Aunt Jeanie.” =i

The girl came to the shop-door.

“Look here,” she said, “do you
want any chocolate? I can’t be bothered
like this. JI don’t believe you've got
any money.”

“We can’t shop now—we are going
home,” said Dorothy.





ad















“She is a cross girl,” said Georgie, as
the girl shut the shop-door with a bang.

«Well, never mind,” said Dorothy.

Once more the two set out in
the sunshine, under the umbrella
that would not shut up.

They were quite pleased when
they reached the china-shop, and
were able to hand it back to the
old lady.

“Where have you been?” said
Sarah as she let the children in at
the side-door. “Go upstairs at once.”

Dorothy looked at Georgie and
nodded, and the nod meant: “They
have come home: we shall get scolded.”

“They must be in Mother’s bed-
room,” said Dorothy. “we'd better
go and tell them all about it.”

“No, don’t tell,’ said
Georgie.

“IT always tell Mother
everything,” said Dorothy.

She began to speak as soon
i as Georgie opened the bed-room
: : j door.

“Mother, we've been shopping: you don’t mind my going out if I tell you,
and you were out.”

Then she stopped, for Georgie was laughing.

The room was empty. Mother and Aunt Jeanie had not come home.

“But they will be back directly, and then we shall have to tell them,” said Dorothy.

“Well, come and look for the penny,” said Georgie.

They went back to the Nursery, and they searched every nook and corner, but
the penny was not to be found.

“T, am sorry I’ve lost it,” said Georgie.

“Well, never mind,” said Dorothy, “we went shopping; only I do wonder what

Mother will say.”
Maggie Brown.



Granny's Bridesmaids.




ES, ’tis a charming picture
Of a time that’s passed away—

A picture of Granny’s sisters,

i> On Granny’s wedding-day.

©) See, from the painted window
Aslant comes a stream of light

On five little waiting fairies

’ Gowned in gossamer white.

Didn't they. wear quaint bonnets !
But the tiny one’s shy face
Has only its dainty framing
Of ribbon and filmy lace.
“Ah, what a pretty darling !”
Folks must have whispered there—
“Never a sweeter angel
Strewed flowers than Baby Clare.”



All of the group are scattered,
So long it is ago;
They are getting old, like Granny,
Except little Clare, you know.
She is walking in God’s own garden,
And the years may pass away,
But she will be young and lovely
As on Granny's wedding-day.
Ellis. Walton.




~~



x, phy :
A so









In Mischief.

NE morning Tommy’s Father and his Aunt, who lived in Africa, were planting
Q) seeds in the kitchen-garden, when Tommy appeared at the top of the steps,
with something held tightly in his arms. =

“There’s Tommy squeezing one of the puppies again,” said his Aunt.

“Tommy, put that puppy. down,” his Father called out.

But he did not move.

“Put that puppy down,” shouted his Father again.

There was a clatter, and out of his arms fell three little condensed tins! In his
little mind there was an indistinct idea that grown-up people were rather stupid some-
times. Why should they call his cans a puppy, and why should he be told to drop them ?

All this excitement made Tommy forget he had meant to build-a castle with the
tins, but he soon became tired of watching the seed-planting, so he wandered towards
the house again.

On his way he passed the Kaffir kitchen-maid, Christina.

“Black Kistina,’ he murmured to himself, looking at her dark face.

Then he went into the nur-
sery, but there were no stairs
to climb, as in Africa the houses
are only built with one storey.

“That you, Master
Tom?” said Nurse from the
next room. ‘Play quietly—
Baby is asleep.”

“Baby fellah s’eep,” he
echoed, and then he peeped
into the cot.

“Baby fellah not
back like Kistina,’ he .
said, gazing at him with

" interest.

“Tam going to the
kitchen for a minute,
MasterTom,’saidNurse,
putting her head in at
the door. “Keep, quiet

?











till I get back.” Tommy grew tired of playing with his tea-set,
and, presently, he took the brush out of the blacklead box,
which was standing in the fireplace, and began blacking his nails.

Suddenly an idea struck him. “Make Baby fellah back like
Kistina,’ he whispered, with a chuckle; and, dragging the pot
to the side of the cot, he daubed large patches on his face,
and on the sheets and pillow too, I am sorry to say.

“Fun,” said Tommy to himself.

Baby’s roars brought Nurse flying from the kitchen, and his
Mother from the drawing-room, and, at their exclamations,
Daddy, who was passing, looked in to see what had happened.

It was a sight. Baby had a big smudge on each cheek
and one over his eye, and two or three on the top of his
bald head. Tommy was almost as black. He stood in the
middle of the room, the picture of guilt.

“Velly solly, Daddy,’ he said cheerfully. .

“That, I am afraid, does not meet the case.”

Tommy looked puzzled.

“Make Baby fellah b’ack like Kistina,” he said.

Daddy suppressed a smile. ‘So I see.”

Tommy eyed him doubtfully. “Whip Tommy?” he said at length.

“No, I shall not whip you this time,” answered his Father.

“Corner, Daddy?” suggested Tommy, brightening.

“Yes, the corner will do. You must stay there for ten minutes.”

At the end of five minutes: “Velly solly, Daddy,” he said again.

“So am I; but there are five minutes more, for you to make up your mind in,
that you will never make Baby fellah black again.” ,

At the end of the next five minutes he was in his Father’s arms, and then, taking
his hand, trotted out cheerfully to see what fresh mischief he could get into.



L. Butt.
)
Babys Hour.
OME away, my little man. - She will rock you, oh so gently,
It is time to take your “nap.” And you'll hold her by the hand
Climb up into your own cradle, © While you drift away so softly

Which is Mammy’s warm snug lap. __. Into far-off “Sleepyland.”





HERE was once a little child called Lily,
she was so fair and graceful. Near her

home was a broad piece of water called
“Lake Beautiful,” and it was her great delight to sail on this lake and pluck the water-
lilies. She would lean over the side of the boat and gaze into. the shining depths, and
listen to the mermaids singing down below, and she would long to be a mermaid too,
and have no tiresome lessons to learn, or nurse to come in at eight o’clock and put
her to bed, when she was so wide-awake. :

One day Lily had been out on the lake, and when she returned home her arms
were full of beautiful water-lilies. These she gave to her Mother, all but one, which
she placed in a vase in her own room. A

That night Lily could not sleep; there was a strange humming noise in the room,
as of a very small voice singing and talking, so at last Lily sat up and looked around
her. She noticed the noise proceeded from the direction of the vase, where she had
placed the water-lily, and, looking towards it, she saw, standing in the centre of the
flower, the most beautiful little fairy imaginable, dressed in white, and wearing a gold
crown studded with diamonds, and so bright were the rays that shot from the precious
stones that the whole room was illuminated. The fairy was singing a low chant, and





waving her exquisitely transparent wings to and fro, keeping time to her singing. This
was the song she sang: —

“Fair little maiden, away we'll flee
To the silvery lake. Oh! come with me,
And you shall learn. how sweet to dwell,
Far under the waves, in the mermaids’ cell.”

Lily listened in astonishment, and when the fairy ceased singing she said: “Pretty
fairy, I should like to be a mermaid, but I do not think I can run away at night,
without saying good-bye to Mother.”

But the fairy anwered her, and said, “Did you not say to-day that you wished
you were a mermaid, with no tiresome lessons to learn ?”

“Yes,” said Lily; “I did.”

“Well, I overheard you,” said the fairy, “and so I have come to fetch you away.
Your name is Lily, like mine; and if you will only come and dwell in our lake, we
will make you happy. Think how pleasant it will be never to have any lessons to
learn, but to play all day long with gold and silver fishes, or to float to the top of
the lake and talk to the water-lily fairies.”

Lily thought it would be very pleasant indeed, but still she could not make up
her mind to leave her Mother; so the fairy lost patience, and said she would waste
no more time arguing, but would fly straight away home. She told the child to open
the window, which she did, and the fairy flew towards it, but, pausing a moment, she
said, “I give you one more chance. If to-morrow you should change your mind, come
to the lake, and when you have sailed right out to the middle, where the large patch
of lilies grows, stretch out your arms to them, and say :—

“ To the silvery.lake away I flee.
For I would learn how sweet to dwell,
Far under the waves, in the mermaids’ cell.’

Then the lilies will take you in their arms and lull you to sleep, and when you awake
you will be a mermaid.”

The fairy kissed her tiny hand to the child, and flew away through the open window.

The next day Lily’s lessons were more trying than ever, or was it, perhaps, Lily
‘herself who was a trifle naughty ? Well, whichever way it was, at the end of the morning
her Mother said to her: “As my little girl has been so careless this morning she must
be punished. There will be no rowing on the bright lake this afternoon, for Lily must
stay in the school-room until her lesson is learned.”

This made Lily very angry, and she stamped and cried with rage, and finally



decided she would run away
and be a mermaid. So off she
ran at once, and, scrambling
into the old boat, floated out
into the middle of the lake.

_ Then she stretched out
her arms, and repeated the
linés the fairy had taught her.
And the lilies lifted their
stately white heads, and folded
their long green arms about
her, and rocked her to sleep.

When she awoke she felt a
little stiff and cramped, and,
looking down, found that her
two pretty little feet had dis-
appeared, and in place of them
she had a tail like a fish, all
eg covered with silver scales.

She felt a little inclined to cry at this, but, turning round, saw close behind
‘her a lovely little mermaid, with a crystal mirror in one hand and a golden comb in
the other. The mermaid smiled sweetly at Lily, and said—

“Now come with me, and we will go together to some quiet nook, and comb our
hair, and have a nice long talk.”

“I would rather play,” said Lily. “I hate to have my hair combed.”

“Qh, you dirty creature!” said the mermaid, and Lily blushed, and felt ashamed
of herself, and added that she had forgotten to bring her comb with her.

“Well, you must have a comb if you are to sive here, or else you be will con-
sidered no better than the fishes; so come with me to Grandmamma and we will
hear what she says.”

They swam along, until they reached a grotto of mother-of-pearl, which Lily
and her friend entered. :

Lily, who had expected to see a very old lady mermaid, was surprised to find
that Grandmamma looked very little older than her grandchild. She had forgotten,
you see, that mermaids never grow old. ,

“Well, Friskey, and what do you want with me?” said Grandmamma. “And
who's your friend ?”

“This is Lily, the new mermaid, who arrived yesterday, and she has forgotten
to bring her comb and glass.”





“Oh, that’s easily remedied,” said Grandmamma. “I have a set to spare, and
will sell them to her for a couple of teeth.”

“What!” screamed Lily, “give you my teeth! No! I'd rather go without the
comb and glass.”

However, by dint of threats and persuasion, she at last consented, and allowed
Grandmamma and Friskey to draw two of her little back teeth, and in exchange
she was presented with a pretty little mirror, like her friend’s, and a golden comb.
She swam away with depressed spirits, for, apart from the pain of having her teeth
drawn, she could not help wondering where she should put her new possessions
when she was not using them, her present costume having no pockets, and she
saw no signs of a dressing-table, like the pretty one in her little room at home,
and on to which she loved to climb to peep at her little face in the looking-glass
which stood on it. For one whole hour Lily had to sit and comb her hair, whilst
she told her curious friend all about home, her Mother, and her friends. At last
they ceased combing, and the mermaid said, “Now we must go, for it is time for
our singing-class.”

Now, that singing-class Lily did enjoy—not that she herself sang much, but
the voices of the other mermaids were so sweet that it was a joy to listen to
them. When the singing was over, they all played “hide-and-seek.” But it was
not nearly such fun as the games at home. Lily was hampered with that glass
and comb, and managed to:scratch one little mermaid with it as she tried to catch
her, and this angered the mermaid, and I am sorry to say she pinched Lily.
Altogether, she felt a mermaid’s life was rather a mistake, and wished she could
go home.

As the days went by, Lily grew more and more discontented, and at last she
became so miserable that she made up her mind to try and escape, but looking
at her scaly tail, she felt she must get rid of that first or her Mother might not
know her again. So she floated up to the patch of water-lilies and told her troubles
to the fairies, and ended by begging to have her feet given her back again, for,
“Oh,” she said, “I do so want to see my Mother—she is better than all the
mermaids in the world.”

“Tt is all the fault of your name,” said the Queen. “If you had been called
Mary Jane I should have left you alone; but, of course, I thought Lily by name,
Lily by nature. However, I will do the best I can under the circumstances.
I cannot make you into a child again, but if-you are quite sure you can no longer
be happy as a mermaid, I will change you into a beautiful white bird, and then
you can fly to your Mother and live near her, and though she may not recognise
her little girl in you, still you can sing to her the sweet songs you have learnt
from the mermaids, and then she will learn to love you.”





Oh! how Lily longed to throw her arms round her Mother’s neck and ask to
be forgiven. As this could not be, she sadly thanked the fairies for their kindness,
and tried to comfort herself with the thought that, any way, she would see her Mother
again.

“I will just say good-bye to Friskey, and then, dear Queen, please make me into
a little white bird.” ,

She sank down to the bottom of the lake, and soon found Friskey, combing her
hair as usual.

“Friskey dear,” she said, “I’ve come to say’ good-bye. The Lily Queen has promised
to change me into a little white bird, and so I am going to fly away and look for



Mother. And, Friskey, will you have
my comb and glass as a keepsake?
though I don’t know what you will do
with them.”

The tears stood in. Friskey’s eyes

as she kissed Lily, and said, “You are
a good little thing, and I hope you will
find your Mother.”
Then with a wave of her hand to Friskey, Lily
floated away. When she reached the fairies once more, the
Qtieen spread her wings, and flew above her head, There,
poised in the air, she commenced to sing :—




“Little white birdie, fly home to thy nest!
Fly, little wand’rer, to Mother's soft breast;
In Mother’s fond arms sweetly thou'lt rest.
Fly home, little birdie, fly home to thy nest!”

As the fairy sang the last line, Lily felt a curious faint sensation steal over her,
and then a delicious sense of freedom, and she commenced to fly upwards.

Oh! this was a thousand times more delightful than being a mermaid. She flew
round and round, just to try her wings, and then, bidding the fairies adieu, she spread
her wings towards the shore to find her Mother. Oh! what pleasure it was to see
the old home again ! She perched on her Mother’s window-sill, and commenced to
sing one of the beautiful songs the mermaids had taught her; but to her astonishment,
no Mother came to listen to her song.

Then she flew to the nursery window. Her two little sisters were in the
room, in their white night-gowns, ready to go to bed. They looked very sad, but
smiled when they saw the pretty white bird, and clapped. their hands; so Lily
flew down to the table and let them stroke her soft plumage. But still there was
no sign of Mother. Then she flew into every room in the house, and at last
stopped by the cage of some little song-birds. ‘Dear birds,” said she, “where is
my Mother?”

“We do not know your Mother, beautiful white bird; but the.Mother of the
house has been taken away to-day, and they have laid her in the churchyard.”

Away flew the bird to the churchyard, but when she reached it, she could
not see her Mother. There was a newly-made grave, covered with some lovely
white lilies. “Ah,” said the bird, “the lilies will tell me, for I am their name-
sake.” So she said, “Dear lilies, have.you seen my Mother?” and the lilies knew
‘her at once, and said: “This is your Mother's grave, but do not grieve, for she



is not here, but God gave her wings like yours, and she has flown away, far, far
up into the sky. If you are not afraid to follow, you.may find her yet.”

“T am afraid of nothing,” said the bird, “if only I can find my Mother.”

Away she flew up, up into the sky, and as she flew, her feathers changed
into pure, white robes, and she felt she was once more little Lily; only the wings
remained, and these seemed to grow larger and stronger, so that she no longer
felt the least weariness or fatigue, but soared above the soft and fleecy clouds till
she reached the blue region beyond; and then she heard faint echoes of most
exquisite singing, that seemed to make her heart rejoice and fill her whole being
with gladness.

On, on she flew, and now she hears her Mothers voice joining in the
heavenly song. Still higher soars the little one, and then—“Ah, Mother, Mother!”
and the little white bird is resting on her Mother's breast in Paradise.

Lucy L. Weedon.

ay NK * Toullaby.
- so7 WO little birdies fly home from the’ west,

Winging in haste to their cosy wee nest.
Lulla-lulla-by.



’ Two little butterflies fold their bright wings ;
Soothing their slumbers a nightingale sings.
Lulla-lulla-by.

Two little violets droop in the glade,
Modestly hiding their heads in the shade.
-Lulla-lulla-by.

Two little bairnies are weary of play;
Sweet be their dreams at the close of the day.
Lulla-lulla-by.

Butterflies, violets, all pretty things,
Peacefully sleep when the nightingale sings.
Lulla-lulla-by.
M. M. Buchanan.



« a

IEA



“Cithout a fQoment’s Delay.”

to Daphne. They had just come up from their morning dip, they ‘were
partly dressed, and Daphne was rubbing Dick’s hair dry for him, like the
good little sister she was.
“Never mind,” she said. “Father will be home soon now. All sorts of things
are always happening to him, so he will have lots to tell us.”
“That’s jolly, of course,” Dick said; “but it’s not at all the same thing.”
Dick and Daphne and Eddy and Dolly and Baby and Binkie were all staying
at the seaside with their Aunt, till Father should come home from beyond the

seas, where he had gone to make their fortunes.

me WISH something would happen to us, something out of a book,” said Dick



Aunt Jane was kind in her way, but she had never had a baby of her very
own; so she did not understand everything, and thought lots of things wrong which
never seemed so to the children.

“She seems to think it as wicked to forget to brush your hair as it is to tell a
lie,” Dick used to say.

“I wish Father would come now—this minute,’ said Daphne sadly, rubbing
Dick’s head so hard that he could hardly hear what she said; and Binkie whined
a little, partly from sympathy, and partly because he was very wet and rather cold.

“It’s no use wishing,’ said Dick. “Come on, Binkie,’ and he jumped up, and
ran down to the edge of the sea, and began to throw stones and sticks in for
Binkie, who brought them out now and then—just to oblige his master.

- At last Dick threw a curious stone with seaweed growing on it. Away went
Binkie after it. The stone lodged on a bit of rock covered with sea-weed. Binkie
gave up the chase.

“What a jolly little rock,” said Daphne. “Let’s wade out and get on it.”

“And we'll get back that funny stone with the sea-weed,” said Dick.

So out they went. But when Dick put his hand down among the sea-weed
it touched something hard and round, and not at all like any stone. He picked
it up, and then, “Oh, Daff!” he cried; “here zs an adventure—a real one”; for what
he had picked up was a large glass bottle that was lying on the soft sea-weed.
He had read tales enough to know what this meant.

It seemed long to the children before they had waded through the shallow
water to the beach, and sat down to examine their treasure. _A piece of bladder
was tied over the top of the bottle. Dick got this off and prised out the cork
with his pocket-knife. Inside was a thin roll, also fastened up in bladder. They
got it out and opened it, with their hearts beating loudly. Inside there was
a paper.

“IT knew there would be,’ cried Dick. “Oh! Daff, something has happened
—this is just like the books.”

This is what was on the paper :—

“The passengers, crew, and officers of the ‘Britomart’ are wrecked on an island.
[Here followed some letters and figures the children could not understand.] There
is no food but what we saved from the ship, and we must starve if assistance
does not reach us before many weeks. Whoever finds this is earnestly entreated by
us all to take or send it, WITHOUT A MOMENT’S DELAY, @o the Occidental Navigation.
Company, Fenchurch-street. Have pity!—there are women and children among us.
Any delay may cost their lives.”

The children, white and wet-eyed, looked at each other.



“Oh, poor, poor things!” cried Daphne. “What shall we do?”

“T don’t know,” said Dick; “I must think. Daff, dear, you mustn't say a word
to anyone. We'll go home to dinner now—we must—and after dinner we'll see.”

“Won't you tell Auntie?”

“Nor? said Dick steadily. “She's so silly, she’d think we'd made it up. i‘

So they went to find the others, who were building a sand-castle, and glonous,
enthroning Baby upon it.

That dinner was dreadful. Never had hashed mutton and rice pudding seemed
so dull.

“You don’t seem well, Daphne,” said her Aunt. “Perhaps you had better go
to bed after dinner. You may be sickening for something.”

After that the rice pudding began to disappear at a great rate, Daphie Sxbiaining
between the mouthfuls that she was “quite all right.”

After dinner Dick drew her into his bedroom, as they went up to put on
their hats for “the beach”—Aunt Jane’s only idea of amusement.

“Daff,” he said earnestly, “we must take this up to London.’ Daphne opened
her eyes very round and wide.

“To London?” she said.

“Yes. Now, don’t be frightened. There’s a train in half an hour. Get on your
best things, and we'll slip out, now that Aunt Jane’s having her ‘forty winks’ after
dinner. She'll give us bread-and-water for a week afterwards—but never mind.”

“But couldn’t we send it by telegraph?” asked Daphne.

“There isn’t any telegraph in Sandyside, stupid,” said Dick, and, full of the
excitement of his adventure, he was very glad to be able to say it. “You know
what it said:—‘without a moment’s delay,” he went on.

And Daphne, fired by the sight of his bravery, said, “Oh, Dick, it must be right!
Perhaps we are saving the lives of the ladies and the poor little children.”

They broke open their money-boxes—there was plenty of money in them, for
they were saving up to buy a pony—and though the man looked rather curiously .
at the two little figures who wanted “two half-returns to London, please,’ yet he
did not stop them; and presently the train steamed out of Sandyside Station, bearing
with it Dick and Daphne and the destinies of the “crew, passengers, and officers
of the ‘Britomart.’”

It seemed a long journey, and Daphne cried a little, but: Dick cheered her
‘up as well as he could. But when they got to the big, crowded London station
even Dick hardly knew what to do. .

‘Let us get into a hansom,” suggested Daphne; “that’s what Father does ‘when
he’s in a hurry.”

“And we are in a hurry—‘not a moment’s delay,’” said Dick, as res Sob in.







(crviag i

1895
SY E/WISTE

A Big Wave.




















The hansom set them down at the doors o. a
large handsome building in Fenchurch-Street, which
seemed all swing-doors and glass plates.

The clerks stared curiously at the children as

Dick stepped forward.

“Please,” he said, “I want
to see the Occidental Navigation
Company.”

“What! all of it?’ said the
clerk, laughing. But the anxiety
in the little face touched him.

~ What is it?” he asked,

Then Dick began his tale—
but at the name of the ‘Britomart’
‘4. the clerk came from behind his
counter, and led the children
ee =~ oe, on to an inner room.

“News of the ‘Brito-
mart, sir,’ he said, and
a white-haired gentleman
looked up quickly. Then
the children—both _half-
crying with fatigue and ex-
citement—told their story,
and showed the bottle and
‘letter. The old gentleman read the latter eagerly, and then he held out his hand.

“Upon my word, sir,’ he said to Dick, “youre a man. You've saved their
lives. One of our ships leaves dock to-night. If you'd waited to write, she would
have sailed before I got your letter; and I could not have chartered another to
start for several days.”

“And if we'd telegraphed?” said Daphne timidly.

“If you'd telegraphed, my dear, I should have thought it was a hoax.”

He touched his bell. “Here, Thompson, see these children home—wherever it
is—and explain to their people.” And with that he hurried off to send help to
those shipwrecked folk—“without a moment’s delay.”

Thompson, the clerk who had first seen them, did take them home, and petted
and made much of them; and so won on Aunt Jane by his account of what they
had done, that there was never the slightest mention of bread-and-water.

* * * * * *



Six weeks later Dick and Daphne were playing desert islands. They always |
played it on the rock where they had found the bottle, and as there was only
just room for them to stand, it was not easy.

A voice hailed them from the shore.

“It is Mather!” they cried, and the next minute they were hanging on his neck.

“Where did you get that gold watch, my boy?” said his father, later.

“From the Occidental Navigation Company,’ said Dick proudly, “and Daff has,
one too.” Then he told his Father the story. His Father listened quietly, and then
he said, “If there had been ‘a moment’s delay’ I should not have been here. Our
provisions were all gone.”

“Then were you——?” cried the children.

“Yes,” said he, holding them closer to him. “JZ was a passenger on board the

‘Britomart.’”
, £2. Nesbit.

The Iwo Ihiffle Bears.

AC CE upon a time there were two little brown bears. One was a nice, good
little bear; the other was a cross, surly little bear.
One day, when these two bears were out together, the cross little bear
said to his brother:

“Go to the baker’s shop, and buy two buns fe our dinner, while I wait for
you in this field.”

So the good little bear went, for he
always did what he was told. But as he
came out of the baker's shop, a rough little
boy ran up, and snatched the buns from him. —

The little bear cried. He could not buy
any more buns, because he had spent all the
money he had. So he went back to_ his.
brother in the field:

“Where are the buns?” snieied the cross
little bear. ;

“A naughty boy took them away from
me,” replied the good little bear.

“Nonsense!” cried the cross bear; “do you
expect me to believe that? No! ‘You have.





eaten both buns yourself.
Nasty, greedy little thing !”
And the cross little bear
boxed the good little bear’s
ears.

The good little bear
turned away, crying. He.
wandered out of the field,
and walked sadly along
a road.

Presently he met a
pretty little girl, who held:
in her hand a golden collar

oe and a golden chain.
“What a dear, wee
bear!” exclaimed she. “You
sweet little thing! Will
you come and live with me,,
and be my little bear?”

“Oh, yes,” replied the
good little bear eagerly.
“I should like that very

_ much indeed.”

Then the little girl fastened the golden collar around the little bear's neck,
and led him by the golden chain to her beautiful home.

Here he had cakes and sweets every day. He was petted and caressed, and was,
very happy.

But the cross little bear, walking along another road, met a cross-looking man,
who held in his hand an iron collar and a heavy iron chain.

“Aha!” laughed the man, when he saw the bear. “This is just the fellow for
me! I will take him and teach him to dance, so that I may get pennies.”

Then the man put the iron collar around the cross little bear's neck, and led
him by the iron chain to his miserable home.

The poor bear had to go out every day to dance in the streets, and get
pennies for the cross man. This made him very tired. He got little food, but!
plenty of kicks and blows.

So the nice little bear lived with the nice little girl, and the cross little bear
lived with the cross man.



Ee D,





AA Vhrisfmas Guest.

UPPOSIX_G we were sitting,
One cosy Christmas night,
Close round the blazing: fire,
And the lamps were burning bright.

With Mother in the middle,
And Baby on her knee,

And all of us as merry
And as happy as could be.

Suppose we heard a knocking,
Of some one at the gate,

Who prayed that they might enter,
Although it was so late;

Some beggar asking shelter,
Because the night was cold,
And want, and care, and trouble

Had made him very bold.

And we would cry, “Ah, Mother,
The beggar must not stay,

It is so nice and cosy,
And this. is Christmas Day !

“Tell them to give him something,
For he is wet with snow.

We do not want to see him;
Just tell him he must go!”

And supposing Mother hushed us,
_ Put Baby on the floor,

-And went along the passage,

And opened wide the door;

And on the threshold standing,
In garments wet and thin,

Supposing there was really
The Christ-Child looking in!

Just think how we should wonder
His tender eyes to meet,

And pray of Him to enter,
And warm His shining feet!





It makes you very gentle
In speaking to the poor,

To think some day the Christ-Child
May stand outside your door.

It makes you very anxious And He may say to Mother:
To give the poor your Jest, “You loved my poor, you see,

To feel some day the Christ-Child And what you did to others,
May be your Christmas guest. Was always done to Me!”

Geraldine R. Glasgow.



Two Title Kriends.

€ meant no harm—he never did, and he loved Dolly; so he
clambered up on the wall, and looked over.

“What are you doing, Dolly ?” he said.

Dolly was so busy she could hardly look up.

“Ym making my baby into a black child,” she said. “1
found the stuff on the box Nurse does the fire-grate with,
and it’s lovely.”

“You might stop now,” he said, “and come and sit up

here on the wall beside me.”

“Oh, I’m too busy,” Dolly said. “I’m pretending my baby doesn’t want to be
black, and she’s screaming, and making a dreadful fuss, but it’s for her good—that’s
what Nurse says to me.”

_ “Oh, Nurses all say that,’ he said. “But I don’t believe it’s really true. If your
Nurse came this minute, I'd say to her, ‘Nurse, you are not fe /

“Miss. Dolly !” said Nurse’s voice. “Wherever is that child? Oh, here you are,
missy, and messing with my blacklead! Well, I never! Into the fire your doll goes
as soon as ever we get home! As to you, Master Dick, get off that wall directly.”

“Yes,” said Dick meekly.

“I tell you for your good,” said Nurse. “You'll get a bad fall some day.”

“I’m getting down,” said Dick hurriedly. ‘Good-bye, Dolly.”

Geraldine R. Glasgow.





FA lsitfle Soldier.

LITTLE china soldier
A On a little bracket stands,
And he holds a little gun
In his little china hands.

But whether it is loaded
I really cannot say,
For he never pulls the trigger,
And I hope he never may.
M. H. Browne.







Full Text
xml version 1.0
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DISSEMINATION IEID 'E20080808_AAAAEG' PACKAGE 'UF00083797_00001' INGEST_TIME '2008-08-08T19:27:52-04:00'
AGREEMENT_INFO ACCOUNT 'UF' PROJECT 'UFDC'
DISSEMINATION_REQUEST NAME 'disseminate request placed' TIME '2013-12-09T17:24:28-05:00' NOTE 'request id: 298739; Dissemination from Lois and also Judy Russel see RT# 21871' AGENT 'Stephen'
finished' '2013-12-16T15:54:19-05:00' '' 'SYSTEM'
FILES
FILE SIZE '776570' DFID 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASQI' ORIGIN 'DEPOSITOR' PATH 'sip-files00001.jp2'
MESSAGE_DIGEST ALGORITHM 'MD5' 8445d43c41920f0ac3425c62b99172bb
'SHA-1' 86893da674d155055032f66fd31d70654cf3e078
EVENT '2011-11-07T13:06:01-05:00' OUTCOME 'success'
PROCEDURE describe
'154066' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASQJ' 'sip-files00001.jpg'
dd0d7f3c5220a6c86be29020a5196647
9083847be648e7d419d9cf1769cae4978e130b5e
'2011-11-07T13:07:28-05:00'
describe
'35848' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASQK' 'sip-files00001.QC.jpg'
a99c0c75188123db8981528b71fb978b
42e08ac41c922a166e307b1ae4ca7a26032ddca1
'2011-11-07T13:05:47-05:00'
describe
'18650580' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASQL' 'sip-files00001.tif'
c5a2c4e7e925c797fb69ecf3a78f8be0
ac2bf168191089af86326118d008f787119b90bd
'2011-11-07T13:05:50-05:00'
describe
'9164' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASQM' 'sip-files00001thm.jpg'
c74c9511aa1340956678584f06f3115f
999fd8022652121e6d6f36b359bb0472fc567a13
'2011-11-07T13:05:28-05:00'
describe
'760133' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASQN' 'sip-files00002.jp2'
c0ee4da54e7e9b15970dea7ab7e1d48d
123255294f6afc117b366f8671346c5fe04448a8
'2011-11-07T13:06:43-05:00'
describe
'76477' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASQO' 'sip-files00002.jpg'
1a05b66cdeea113ec6c7c965554a102b
9d01b61b84ad18eca465661589f2ca73dfd4682f
'2011-11-07T13:06:35-05:00'
describe
'16739' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASQP' 'sip-files00002.QC.jpg'
057101fd8c02fb916268eaeba1a0c101
0d477a80a54100fab53881c2aff6634ffa35ad33
'2011-11-07T13:05:01-05:00'
describe
'18251364' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASQQ' 'sip-files00002.tif'
cf461a674588686becafe50687a1f723
86bfe79f1823736698767c54dd55ba61ffa0e579
'2011-11-07T13:07:15-05:00'
describe
'3776' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASQR' 'sip-files00002thm.jpg'
2304932b1d8dce9339be39df513abc82
fd2a2e98c2fe3292f5818332457e61fad944f36c
'2011-11-07T13:08:36-05:00'
describe
'660154' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASQS' 'sip-files00003.jp2'
aefe4cc28e2ce0309769a16b705f5632
3b7af8b707b947155c5648fd06d0bffdee24a21f
'2011-11-07T13:07:23-05:00'
describe
'74462' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASQT' 'sip-files00003.jpg'
bfe8377ca17f9384cb0e88322f7741f2
517c5f2a0d908e823d7abb6363f52efd2faadfc2
'2011-11-07T13:06:17-05:00'
describe
'16054' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASQU' 'sip-files00003.QC.jpg'
107a74a3cfc8716abb92377bd19ea01b
981034ee0932a3262876e0b38a2d3266c64102d7
'2011-11-07T13:07:46-05:00'
describe
'15851928' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASQV' 'sip-files00003.tif'
fd57bf0d4baae9dca24a784b38763866
8910e664fbac634c270486c8685acfdc81588b24
'2011-11-07T13:05:40-05:00'
describe
'3811' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASQW' 'sip-files00003thm.jpg'
d2270cec5944eabb9cf6b8441774ab8a
1d9163913ee6ad754fcacfc0dcb6ad57d5c4b49a
'2011-11-07T13:07:51-05:00'
describe
'648197' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASQX' 'sip-files00005.jp2'
33d80486d6738387ca475060328449dc
c7928e68ddc41e7c49ac6c15f852c586231ed96e
'2011-11-07T13:06:50-05:00'
describe
'115697' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASQY' 'sip-files00005.jpg'
33656a1d6f670261a179c191864a18fa
c7b5bb30f4e8799edbfb33ab4dd1f968edf27d84
'2011-11-07T13:04:46-05:00'
describe
'638' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASQZ' 'sip-files00005.pro'
4339c3b789f8786487a7ecff1f3b62e3
718b32d57a2fa893d3b2874588e9c127274b5ff2
'2011-11-07T13:06:40-05:00'
describe
'26127' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRA' 'sip-files00005.QC.jpg'
03d26b597714deda9d76a09099a41dcf
0dcf7910e5001dfd1633bbaad4ee91f967e2db34
'2011-11-07T13:06:51-05:00'
describe
'5196116' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRB' 'sip-files00005.tif'
b04d1421593648a2024a90379e0f9ced
951175dee334f63fd3d09269b011a7f7c50e6408
'2011-11-07T13:05:55-05:00'
describe
'25' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRC' 'sip-files00005.txt'
1b1290612dafbf68bc9b0b44b06ec071
dfbbf24db0ba0e6142d44a1ab96ad73ceef91e3c
'2011-11-07T13:04:42-05:00'
describe
'6077' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRD' 'sip-files00005thm.jpg'
5f936e045454776480f2f0a1722b10fe
11b416dd0ae7161f4e9cf529db67c49fc65a848b
'2011-11-07T13:04:47-05:00'
describe
'676702' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRE' 'sip-files00006.jp2'
06ec56caabc7bb35239248613fa6b5bc
516e325247428cdc2457ba0b93da48a4c0c2e1d5
'2011-11-07T13:05:20-05:00'
describe
'61568' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRF' 'sip-files00006.jpg'
1e336f68371a78ceec6d132b3dcd8a14
2f08a7074db44965a6d27047e56831162b9d4913
'2011-11-07T13:05:14-05:00'
describe
'12786' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRG' 'sip-files00006.pro'
5e8ea3914497a6a77e3b01fc937bdaea
1adaa582d0a6676bd55aab4364604ae88df00852
'2011-11-07T13:06:20-05:00'
describe
'15152' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRH' 'sip-files00006.QC.jpg'
8e1448d53066d612441993803c11f5d3
d2f80b825d90bf6686586cad7ff5dae9874ef98e
'2011-11-07T13:06:42-05:00'
describe
'5423448' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRI' 'sip-files00006.tif'
241b6b845e59f557e4be6b531f222df0
39dd25fee06ef5c0425d3f61a5abe1152d583efd
'2011-11-07T13:08:12-05:00'
describe
'589' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRJ' 'sip-files00006.txt'
36ca80a5e000986586eeaee191b0c9fe
0f2b483c9f7e0f6c13542628154f61c89286558f
'2011-11-07T13:06:19-05:00'
describe
'3914' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRK' 'sip-files00006thm.jpg'
821a0f3b4353acc57aab9415abf12c0e
608c285da552f0988558d7429bf04fa962570176
'2011-11-07T13:04:35-05:00'
describe
'520447' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRL' 'sip-files00008.jp2'
b62bbe185b44118164afd8f930db14b2
59728e6aaaf048b82604e0bb25a4d6b1ab494bcb
'2011-11-07T13:04:39-05:00'
describe
'145280' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRM' 'sip-files00008.jpg'
ab021c664ef59fc395677cbdfc705eea
6ca8be1a2fdaec86a2f1582323687e2b01d025bc
'2011-11-07T13:07:12-05:00'
describe
'2991' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRN' 'sip-files00008.pro'
fa435febed9c3530ae954db91d76ff09
4d37a34181b6fba7597bd4900ad818dbe4425a51
'2011-11-07T13:07:19-05:00'
describe
'31825' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRO' 'sip-files00008.QC.jpg'
83fceaed7ada3235e2ea27a9782406a3
c50260eb083f845e81a829b7559a208b55b74b7f
'2011-11-07T13:07:27-05:00'
describe
'12503988' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRP' 'sip-files00008.tif'
e7078b380ae329ec0dc1ce9c56578f83
ec7ad76157d48bdcb70bfff800e6178be428229a
'2011-11-07T13:05:42-05:00'
describe
'222' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRQ' 'sip-files00008.txt'
150d5e6daa4c029a95e0bcf71eed670a
34c728067e7dea27f34cb76968b0c61fff9ad770
'2011-11-07T13:08:41-05:00'
describe
WARNING CODE 'Daitss::Anomaly' Invalid character
'7886' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRR' 'sip-files00008thm.jpg'
f7af51a7595a2791876067067e6b5046
bd602e7d4e1163b99b8d8cb286cdbda071909a59
'2011-11-07T13:05:09-05:00'
describe
'675736' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRS' 'sip-files00009.jp2'
cc3ff0944ce1fd2388eda50afab560ac
7447490211b30ec0c0fc8f698b2537f5bc6f2d62
'2011-11-07T13:05:02-05:00'
describe
'89518' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRT' 'sip-files00009.jpg'
b48d1a13928d8b93663f650e9d168398
e66fe4ac5ec60bd12ec5e6260275274a73cab8aa
describe
'9711' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRU' 'sip-files00009.pro'
2a21a4535e8d545fae8f208f5d46ad20
9a9a65cdb81119f1ec36fb707dd71fb7940b2d9f
'2011-11-07T13:07:05-05:00'
describe
'22737' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRV' 'sip-files00009.QC.jpg'
47dbec59df54b555623ae6dfc190cc72
dc28c0f78aabc3395cb268d73684069d1ea9d8c9
'2011-11-07T13:04:45-05:00'
describe
'5417024' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRW' 'sip-files00009.tif'
5587aae4f58de531c0fff945fb6d655d
c927269f5963327a4cd68d409448458272afbd79
'2011-11-07T13:08:09-05:00'
describe
'549' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRX' 'sip-files00009.txt'
9e4cc80fa533e8491ce423294ec61bdd
e8b2a7e2738ccaba622650ec2c093f6a68ea1d16
'2011-11-07T13:05:11-05:00'
describe
Invalid character
'5828' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRY' 'sip-files00009thm.jpg'
8599edd1b8eb15a27f64a05c05592a6e
3a2a0ba5a4468bf24d324b59f6c290b5d6690eb1
'2011-11-07T13:05:21-05:00'
describe
'676724' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASRZ' 'sip-files00010.jp2'
bd5de471c3002aab381a4e6fb60f9450
5e4b3788c420732922a45f5436a6cb696d97ed83
'2011-11-07T13:08:31-05:00'
describe
'120667' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSA' 'sip-files00010.jpg'
0d428ec8cc322ffca1b30483d50a79e2
ef6327c5f8024ff371aec957b23ab05534ec51f6
'2011-11-07T13:05:56-05:00'
describe
'53038' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSB' 'sip-files00010.pro'
0090ef5d607e0fe69bcb75c9119a4314
9510fee8e0e63564c3e991bf0d6e06293471797b
describe
'32627' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSC' 'sip-files00010.QC.jpg'
1d4c0da74165acdd731a25fc172b29b1
045348c15c3f6d660c22dd97eea5281b29bcf601
'2011-11-07T13:07:21-05:00'
describe
'5425924' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSD' 'sip-files00010.tif'
c0e8902576b99d99ad80fd21460e5433
3b448fb891f08b9373648d6d6285286edc1727d5
'2011-11-07T13:04:40-05:00'
describe
'2630' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSE' 'sip-files00010.txt'
37b79f7463e0580d0963ec829d1ab793
f9ef1ee42df7b07efa6a7190ca7aaa8ffda0be0d
'2011-11-07T13:08:33-05:00'
describe
'7781' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSF' 'sip-files00010thm.jpg'
269bbad640a7ff919b2832b4412c865b
9c33eb5e4e24d4c9f8a18088806a9bc27b5f7e4e
'2011-11-07T13:08:37-05:00'
describe
'676490' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSG' 'sip-files00011.jp2'
c6534521b4973cd05830987fd8d1c80d
8b8086de4fa04652ea17ce1f08b4d6dd0791afab
'2011-11-07T13:05:15-05:00'
describe
'125216' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSH' 'sip-files00011.jpg'
d5107fd460db27b9f1fbe694d7d33528
2b0cd96accf24c6716e21be89aa3d69b0de11bed
'2011-11-07T13:07:17-05:00'
describe
'51004' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSI' 'sip-files00011.pro'
cfab160bdaa36b2b4197b811af201498
96d0995254795d603005f91c8c04521b41ba11fc
'2011-11-07T13:06:15-05:00'
describe
'34027' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSJ' 'sip-files00011.QC.jpg'
1a459d8f606cd2d682875fd3a78f6dd4
298dffeb852884e4f92b66745114fde28ed5c53c
'2011-11-07T13:05:46-05:00'
describe
'5425988' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSK' 'sip-files00011.tif'
7da9c2ef173abdb47a2c56f359e9f0fa
d9316429f1fe8a040603cd13bacf847abac4ade7
'2011-11-07T13:04:54-05:00'
describe
'2165' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSL' 'sip-files00011.txt'
2abb044c103022ba2f5f378a6054ced8
90b0abdecc6285b3f7f630f1333622355cc6c6b9
'2011-11-07T13:07:09-05:00'
describe
'7920' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSM' 'sip-files00011thm.jpg'
7a26b4758d8d376ef0e5a4559a48dfd8
348dfcff342cf1c2f72e1cdd1f37f26946955f06
'2011-11-07T13:07:57-05:00'
describe
'676734' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSN' 'sip-files00012.jp2'
7be36caf40c0ed11181e2a38143d80d1
b72d4aa3ce14d5cd952698ee3b0e69d930de71a9
'2011-11-07T13:04:52-05:00'
describe
'178103' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSO' 'sip-files00012.jpg'
c696d7983687178e1e4126d6561ad481
c36faafc4f114e955d2a606aa9061f0e81f4f3f5
'2011-11-07T13:08:10-05:00'
describe
'2915' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSP' 'sip-files00012.pro'
413631f16047284168cf6c79142e5fce
2244127b459d0b89660de4fd7fe5df68ecf27e6a
'2011-11-07T13:05:13-05:00'
describe
'41524' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSQ' 'sip-files00012.QC.jpg'
a4c520184691c6e18be1429f4f62214f
a37ac487c0ce0dfa2ba4c6695a690dbfdc478e62
describe
'5427912' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSR' 'sip-files00012.tif'
03de4c0ee44a8e87a5b81ccbafcfc395
4053432d23f779cb8dc10f219b5c6629d0b76a72
'2011-11-07T13:07:49-05:00'
describe
'180' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSS' 'sip-files00012.txt'
440a332ddc38d2fa1714c25051adb86e
781bd63c696e5545cd7231f0ba17b3426da3970f
describe
Invalid character
'9924' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASST' 'sip-files00012thm.jpg'
d73788c7e5cdf94d3986d22643209bd6
c4694ff8838631a0fc510e75b0809bb12f9eb25c
'2011-11-07T13:05:45-05:00'
describe
'676732' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSU' 'sip-files00013.jp2'
8e35fb2e6c4efd0ecb02508af8298f0d
2f95771ba5b06ee1166053a138088826677b65a8
'2011-11-07T13:05:36-05:00'
describe
'89335' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSV' 'sip-files00013.jpg'
4fd9ba1f502fb79a7d283f76e1944a67
22b77720570f8c96b613f3530d0e07beaaeaa122
'2011-11-07T13:04:59-05:00'
describe
'39600' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSW' 'sip-files00013.pro'
5638028e7029bc12250af94dfe0b7b90
d052884c29c93020f5c0769ce9a032fa7c5f8eb5
'2011-11-07T13:08:21-05:00'
describe
'25597' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSX' 'sip-files00013.QC.jpg'
44bb15dde157021fee002ee9344f6688
bbd728d0b0a46802d91f898aa2d6b0562b946cba
'2011-11-07T13:08:23-05:00'
describe
'5425456' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSY' 'sip-files00013.tif'
0d0fb0eb06ee443a5deb908a1ef6a406
cbb3d0ef6eaf2fd2714540c702e9aa47b3f9a71a
'2011-11-07T13:04:17-05:00'
describe
'2022' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASSZ' 'sip-files00013.txt'
48cba4fa7f0ccc903f1dab516d2d27b4
1b0d0751be4af8e6241bfabb680c7c4ac4c8bde5
'2011-11-07T13:05:31-05:00'
describe
'6761' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTA' 'sip-files00013thm.jpg'
71d2da66fb35259e6569524418fa5a2d
78d0cee8d7e4f84d3984ee85b54343650809193a
'2011-11-07T13:06:18-05:00'
describe
'676721' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTB' 'sip-files00014.jp2'
efb0ae2216724fd49c45ec06dc40d15c
3d5afde0e8ca4d1d4bcf44fe7b4d688db7b9cb77
'2011-11-07T13:05:17-05:00'
describe
'130237' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTC' 'sip-files00014.jpg'
ad8eb8d703078d18082b5c2b0651549e
aa584f67103e3ffc0082f47a221584a9780fd8e7
'2011-11-07T13:07:42-05:00'
describe
'57859' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTD' 'sip-files00014.pro'
f6643883d078fbe194ced3ce23f1b71e
ff43e46b83e3bc5e4638da1a8ce209ec873c1aaf
'2011-11-07T13:08:42-05:00'
describe
'36402' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTE' 'sip-files00014.QC.jpg'
3b2b420bce15757afdad00fa87dacc8d
4fdaa5c019ecaeebbcfe46bcaf2479ad8e41c0b8
'2011-11-07T13:07:07-05:00'
describe
'5426396' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTF' 'sip-files00014.tif'
2268dd2cb37a769fa9ded5ac55a2e3e2
341d9c76a31fb0217b97bae671de50df9eb4c12d
'2011-11-07T13:04:21-05:00'
describe
'3067' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTG' 'sip-files00014.txt'
9dd4762a43750066149494d18ca1a14b
8a0e8e3a1aa6223aa543a8ed93aef01ff07fde15
'2011-11-07T13:05:06-05:00'
describe
Invalid character
'8464' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTH' 'sip-files00014thm.jpg'
8bc225f2c4911926f021376ab782b0b3
00b67f758b405ca92e72361351c62524749c1558
'2011-11-07T13:06:05-05:00'
describe
'676719' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTI' 'sip-files00015.jp2'
bc0a71ceee06a1803dca34ff40f072eb
90f4ce106500765c8a46de02f888d7675b69260b
'2011-11-07T13:05:27-05:00'
describe
'100193' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTJ' 'sip-files00015.jpg'
4270a4085ad869fc11fd00451dffc4a2
9145dc982f9619bef6fb289ff5d07484c4e30539
'2011-11-07T13:07:06-05:00'
describe
'44941' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTK' 'sip-files00015.pro'
ec7d442ac7ed14a417f1aa9064e68de6
82aef76881bd0169b643340a2793b1e6d83d329a
'2011-11-07T13:05:16-05:00'
describe
'28743' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTL' 'sip-files00015.QC.jpg'
64c1aa13f86b930ed84f2462d2788cd5
0392ea1265d169ee99416e2e10fcf3110788eede
'2011-11-07T13:06:06-05:00'
describe
'5425392' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTM' 'sip-files00015.tif'
0fc151fd7da2f39b0d34dcb99486fd0f
dcd726a49da91b3244d2ac0ce7cebf6836e53060
describe
'2265' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTN' 'sip-files00015.txt'
84928d3e3c0f3e379ca081b9838cfd36
b59868836c097584af9de69a8c5a9fc0bd740ada
'2011-11-07T13:05:00-05:00'
describe
'6951' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTO' 'sip-files00015thm.jpg'
3453cc3abc458eab2be5f9f87cf239be
36fd9e0858c62dab36b5c75c2e30501792f4e88a
'2011-11-07T13:08:14-05:00'
describe
'676729' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTP' 'sip-files00016.jp2'
321a50bf9a20abf17599801e07e19d4e
c7aafcfafb304d450e6ba2105aa563d726a13057
'2011-11-07T13:04:48-05:00'
describe
'161885' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTQ' 'sip-files00016.jpg'
b38fdacd76dc511fe540ee1922399c02
041276a568d43bbd8a945141b570e6fb16d10b90
'2011-11-07T13:07:18-05:00'
describe
'72429' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTR' 'sip-files00016.pro'
b2a5e14b04f8577cec25668b0a19d18f
134d51597eec84f4e11e670946a2779f413a6937
describe
'43729' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTS' 'sip-files00016.QC.jpg'
de44f7ca672d98a1b1b50b081dc470a4
0130f56de56d6f4828e04df7609b6975ffc04594
'2011-11-07T13:06:30-05:00'
describe
'5427164' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTT' 'sip-files00016.tif'
ab9b1a755e56838ec3367b624476fc6b
2537f5574146eb60d292342714f288bd03772940
'2011-11-07T13:06:56-05:00'
describe
'2875' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTU' 'sip-files00016.txt'
e0a4b39616d512f91f8e1bd299a80390
5e3a035bc33d1933bc220db28d41ebc3fa408a25
'2011-11-07T13:07:01-05:00'
describe
'9571' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTV' 'sip-files00016thm.jpg'
a63df8ec9924670428a0f418015aa85c
43fc5ed2464ccf154ce2d5dead9f783b6a63ba9d
'2011-11-07T13:04:57-05:00'
describe
'684070' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTW' 'sip-files00017.jp2'
68be3976e334e7d0c414157712c87edd
898723104e7c52bae8de5bd2f1ceddd7113d9e65
describe
'128143' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTX' 'sip-files00017.jpg'
415977c96fa7714c94da4785520d3e1d
e7f23a6f88a0acecda40a57f9559c38305e72997
'2011-11-07T13:05:41-05:00'
describe
'1249' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTY' 'sip-files00017.pro'
c5d1d7c301221067ba15d4757410b5bc
b20fb2a2b41e2615774b2cc6f8b5657a98b96fae
'2011-11-07T13:07:33-05:00'
describe
'30377' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASTZ' 'sip-files00017.QC.jpg'
dbdbf60f9dcdd164f4668134ec227555
333a45a06ee26e831a95a450ef7c0ee5b996a3b9
describe
'16430044' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUA' 'sip-files00017.tif'
001bbd49a0e95f5ba22380bd52ab54f7
a66144c17347d0e27d7c942a30f48c6e9339aae7
'2011-11-07T13:05:32-05:00'
describe
'125' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUB' 'sip-files00017.txt'
a3dc97c009df0038a0f1dc912337c225
13d9198201334775d4f5abe7e62a8de84ec52dea
'2011-11-07T13:08:06-05:00'
describe
Invalid character
'7804' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUC' 'sip-files00017thm.jpg'
827c8722944777e272bcd2f02d357875
7b9a703e131dc848e2ce2f9abc77fa46ddf8552d
describe
'676591' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUD' 'sip-files00019.jp2'
b8d397848b2f95b03fb7bc7441b3a4d1
73bc17a91652b29c2094af0c425d6d3ee2741c51
'2011-11-07T13:05:59-05:00'
describe
'124113' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUE' 'sip-files00019.jpg'
bf776718f8eb41a9f5ace77909459445
ed3aa31382cbbcdd7daef1827dc3245d8469cf64
'2011-11-07T13:06:21-05:00'
describe
'39466' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUF' 'sip-files00019.pro'
075f1d141c6a460cabe87a54a8b8e7a8
0e904fe3921e0361d5972cf6bdf13399f7cb3409
'2011-11-07T13:06:45-05:00'
describe
'33334' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUG' 'sip-files00019.QC.jpg'
c40c710272ff7ee3a1ae050bbe2e1308
57726f989e8eff2f1a05781bc360ac3e7cb864c5
describe
'5426188' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUH' 'sip-files00019.tif'
1ea491b1a6d44c9ee382c2cd347cf0a4
7c37724b33e119d3516d947a78543539695a4740
describe
'1983' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUI' 'sip-files00019.txt'
72ba5139129fa7cfd362caaec0134a5f
c74d8385b5c7a0e893c651f8f37f569ed5d7040c
'2011-11-07T13:07:24-05:00'
describe
Invalid character
'8046' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUJ' 'sip-files00019thm.jpg'
061772d0d80484610bde5c43f8ea04fe
c2c8017c1fab80651d719f56678c23d60dffc2ea
'2011-11-07T13:05:48-05:00'
describe
'676731' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUK' 'sip-files00020.jp2'
2a9b957fa0f5de87760bdfb6980defc4
6ebfe576cc1d71c264d3d40634e6bf8ede0f9b54
'2011-11-07T13:05:34-05:00'
describe
'136470' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUL' 'sip-files00020.jpg'
22d52c9a702c455f2cb41bc76c546631
f9ed3be98d8e9ad7688a3304d20428ec1482a4c6
describe
'69818' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUM' 'sip-files00020.pro'
8bcad5d7813be1f5e44195e9f44af14d
01a80e7e2fb98dcc8b7c8ead2e1b98d78ff97838
describe
'38650' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUN' 'sip-files00020.QC.jpg'
5f547153c39faf88e484324324c46864
1d76b8ed6eba83d16a3c786eff7779be538d3102
'2011-11-07T13:07:11-05:00'
describe
'5426772' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUO' 'sip-files00020.tif'
0c529609896abd5052e3d8e20ada0f0b
caeb23e374c38265693c60bcc2c1d575807a8c23
'2011-11-07T13:05:52-05:00'
describe
'2816' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUP' 'sip-files00020.txt'
ff3bf8ef903f07afcd2948e93c4a4837
7f7f95f94bc388d318d73fea785ebf3e028a1821
'2011-11-07T13:06:12-05:00'
describe
'9192' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUQ' 'sip-files00020thm.jpg'
d69ba250f247d47d15304391517b4500
0a9c4a33c73d952d7cfdc016cec4d6776b64478f
describe
'676596' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUR' 'sip-files00021.jp2'
63f2c37787400982c3f6f0653d4b860b
23fb74abb1dc078cb4fbee1b341a821bc4edc158
'2011-11-07T13:06:41-05:00'
describe
'109832' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUS' 'sip-files00021.jpg'
99edf844dddb8c758c1c38121a394cff
1f1f3a0fe352cef2a1ff02fa40b91e34eb83e2e8
'2011-11-07T13:06:02-05:00'
describe
'26510' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUT' 'sip-files00021.pro'
a88fe154e91090c22fdb08d39cbb30f3
89f052e6d9056f7f369395c34fbf1d9040d4a336
'2011-11-07T13:04:34-05:00'
describe
'28346' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUU' 'sip-files00021.QC.jpg'
27de4fe4db872fc3600b5c74b1ea9a97
c3e745d8d45beae842e631bc8a4c145fa095bede
'2011-11-07T13:07:31-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUV' 'sip-files00021.tif'
e96a921df9bc03d068d4643d2e39ec79
4556c2562f3fd8f9c78f346a25218ff65aeafa5b
'2011-11-07T13:06:49-05:00'
describe
'1049' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUW' 'sip-files00021.txt'
fde103f22d73630608d23ff443d63308
bc32f0035691cf5b2cad9b54e78dd507937ed232
describe
'6973' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUX' 'sip-files00021thm.jpg'
04dab457205907a838e9a29d528ffc7a
0446c11db7b7361727bcac843a252b7e2f6079ae
'2011-11-07T13:07:29-05:00'
describe
'676620' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUY' 'sip-files00022.jp2'
e745a3f84940ff29722df3daa4a7a1ed
b23be4fd044132a0cdd0c6b026632d587ed522af
describe
'109974' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASUZ' 'sip-files00022.jpg'
00fb86835ac88f73073ec57288a17311
2bd4ce007dce08dc728b0a5c1d9a86447fdd3876
'2011-11-07T13:04:23-05:00'
describe
'15639' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVA' 'sip-files00022.pro'
a2cb831bf521829bb217684c4c86b9f0
ae46a3a45abbcc986abb18de076d391299635655
'2011-11-07T13:07:03-05:00'
describe
'27510' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVB' 'sip-files00022.QC.jpg'
1f16be1313cf6028f9ffb843319e4d28
ed91c13d367587959834c44a5b3153c9e1b9b867
describe
'5425984' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVC' 'sip-files00022.tif'
73eb8380f0f083310f430297ad695f12
1803f432b5394839ecef3bf2f853b294b4036445
'2011-11-07T13:08:03-05:00'
describe
'627' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVD' 'sip-files00022.txt'
e7bda3a05af50a23b9126999d59681aa
a566e27f6453933b14e0db1ffbc1f89299ab4e69
'2011-11-07T13:07:47-05:00'
describe
'6440' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVE' 'sip-files00022thm.jpg'
6d3a2621ed7ccc95cf109aa0797c9b04
e2fa418b045a6e441d8e9d50c91ce93664ab744b
describe
'676694' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVF' 'sip-files00023.jp2'
458fbfb9849bc50c4c1ffca49049595d
681440e761aca566548db7580b6ce7f482d3df4a
'2011-11-07T13:08:26-05:00'
describe
'117561' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVG' 'sip-files00023.jpg'
5f6e8764583970911f35f521153bab4b
822ab0c6e39fbeba160940dd7774a4f60d55db8c
'2011-11-07T13:06:34-05:00'
describe
'60544' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVH' 'sip-files00023.pro'
f35f3d54478ab522ed0dc4497490a6ec
06ecd7ff66cccdc28cb1de35d8a636d1774dbe79
'2011-11-07T13:06:03-05:00'
describe
'33863' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVI' 'sip-files00023.QC.jpg'
3c0eee6211d1445578c72c822e7a01bb
0d1b9527983b1cceec50c72845d551f9998e2c84
describe
'5426212' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVJ' 'sip-files00023.tif'
5a04ef45e68ec932ca61bdd3dccf5f66
a0ede26d4712b487df36e54c2451171089c098fa
describe
'2520' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVK' 'sip-files00023.txt'
233085b37aa691114b0894cc7abbaf5b
a1260a01c983633cedba4eb920bd176d3f1a188a
describe
'8381' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVL' 'sip-files00023thm.jpg'
f06e44377777f102c6b1ae592b0cfbfa
4dd40d5d15f0b7b1bb7b7e0b385f607c2762d2a8
'2011-11-07T13:04:19-05:00'
describe
'676678' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVM' 'sip-files00024.jp2'
ba7b08f8f6eed4e5652c6ff9c29b33b8
83a701b9d9b4402f1560a6e1fe804468b92ce7d6
describe
'103833' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVN' 'sip-files00024.jpg'
cc11228f6ce4eabf9e72df180504ff34
de5f5ddf47d45cde37b527990be50a405adef5c8
'2011-11-07T13:06:23-05:00'
describe
'35535' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVO' 'sip-files00024.pro'
0a51487a3a4e94474c1954e907a44fdd
99672bbd1d7bca5fad7dc957a975994c06fcda62
'2011-11-07T13:05:38-05:00'
describe
'29607' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVP' 'sip-files00024.QC.jpg'
c464e888601a2b6715d7523e0b4a5597
1f79c0721158432ac1d75e5448c15708b15e9a1a
describe
'5426276' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVQ' 'sip-files00024.tif'
d40da138aeb0b01aa4f90e8f1e7b8c41
c2e3d27289d5db8c64a777b9efd26c136958f598
'2011-11-07T13:04:53-05:00'
describe
'1504' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVR' 'sip-files00024.txt'
0372ec8f6b3920ccc1980cc3d944c097
33165ab69fd93e3b3f1d5f1774cf6a9580327015
'2011-11-07T13:04:20-05:00'
describe
Invalid character
'7620' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVS' 'sip-files00024thm.jpg'
3e048a175ca0c9fa6012c0ff8c80f876
98b23c833540813a929cc66290fad00c84c9f582
'2011-11-07T13:05:54-05:00'
describe
'676733' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVT' 'sip-files00025.jp2'
d06b6904f5b3660fbb26f50013bda8ec
34d6a61f3af1680cd560f3e943fafcae32335044
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVU' 'sip-files00025.jpg'
6d73e0e9d4a4487c02e1693790b96172
1e2a151814dde75c442ea49609d210919866a2cc
'2011-11-07T13:06:10-05:00'
describe
'54420' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVV' 'sip-files00025.pro'
a3004454f6e7d2125407ba5ae05547b5
521155fc06af8f6b1e0499d070451a4e38df125a
'2011-11-07T13:04:38-05:00'
describe
'34102' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVW' 'sip-files00025.QC.jpg'
75c6c5e809cb737116eb2ae18365fb1a
b9a8cba51a9db7a8b12aaf3fd10923f922994ca6
'2011-11-07T13:06:16-05:00'
describe
'5426472' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVX' 'sip-files00025.tif'
6e38f64bcfb3baf00327eb7b73346c4b
5350e3df9dfed87bb8af7c14ff3e8cdac7229d25
'2011-11-07T13:08:05-05:00'
describe
'2939' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVY' 'sip-files00025.txt'
afa0695cf8324220d148d363ab87ad9f
3f55ce220328e8193263620a0c14dc1f9ffb81ba
'2011-11-07T13:07:02-05:00'
describe
Invalid character
'8417' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASVZ' 'sip-files00025thm.jpg'
b00ea59443f6b8b1f5789664c87a9ad1
b4f9467c138b8058d2464bb26013c57fc30ae597
describe
'676663' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWA' 'sip-files00026.jp2'
48229bc2b6b74d93f33494538536c6b6
3e26d205b1693df2956782df3b72e9f069012940
describe
'76290' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWB' 'sip-files00026.jpg'
92081d30129c77b354c481908fd1b0da
f4da0372d6ac3a57d2607baafd67659a5fa33788
'2011-11-07T13:07:35-05:00'
describe
'31551' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWC' 'sip-files00026.pro'
e921feeb1b859794ebd600730ac953b1
16b333adf0d17a4d5a330b732c4d215dd01e545b
'2011-11-07T13:05:23-05:00'
describe
'22469' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWD' 'sip-files00026.QC.jpg'
14e64ba5667e9ec0c3740afb365dbbb3
28088afe19fcb3a42a0c168d4dd4917104064871
'2011-11-07T13:06:09-05:00'
describe
'5424956' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWE' 'sip-files00026.tif'
c8ea495863df099e82d9eecd9cb26577
8dae92aa0665d3cc8d7af8ca4ff9e4339a795830
'2011-11-07T13:05:44-05:00'
describe
'1902' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWF' 'sip-files00026.txt'
f23b84965b2e9f722cdea4a9e164c9df
e24f656ddf127ae43e8bae8d596cdac391dbaa77
describe
Invalid character
'5782' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWG' 'sip-files00026thm.jpg'
e4e960d981fae8c489485fa9daf52624
d659b4be22816641814cbf759e69bf8632b5be0b
'2011-11-07T13:08:07-05:00'
describe
'676700' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWH' 'sip-files00027.jp2'
d5709871b20b878706e440e2aa0efb40
7e9e5f9a1784b223953f7ac385770299b218f7e3
'2011-11-07T13:05:58-05:00'
describe
'114339' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWI' 'sip-files00027.jpg'
38582b6cf358130f7b9ba5c46c4e2152
8ceb6aeedf9f229d18dc4e1e9f4e285a35e19d18
describe
'39854' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWJ' 'sip-files00027.pro'
88c9659d3f5948ac2caf48eb51d11d1d
e5e980270db4a58db198b517ea840f2dd8d824fe
'2011-11-07T13:04:56-05:00'
describe
'31120' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWK' 'sip-files00027.QC.jpg'
727fd60d9f3bdc2d629019a45a35a260
819c8b7b72b7e2edee2b3eaf85db8f7d1e9620c5
describe
'5426000' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWL' 'sip-files00027.tif'
283e9892e069e5d24522807bd296a819
3cc0265f9d5711ae2dc7ff2b00ccc6ffa01efe53
describe
'1767' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWM' 'sip-files00027.txt'
488cb907f68bd20dc313021305d55173
3ee7402c43038414f7e8ec2391746c6101097113
'2011-11-07T13:04:51-05:00'
describe
'7644' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWN' 'sip-files00027thm.jpg'
62baa8cc70cf58b927d2caaa407e192d
3804c01748672b2dd456d4eefee436cbb4beb871
'2011-11-07T13:08:20-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWO' 'sip-files00028.jp2'
0b6b711ebc1b527027952152661607ad
0b0e5a07c57f6098171642cfc2f637a48a11d54b
'2011-11-07T13:06:25-05:00'
describe
'141555' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWP' 'sip-files00028.jpg'
3056cc0e03773a8f9c1c4b3a326f3b08
473eeda8eaf32fcb203747985219edf3111f7431
'2011-11-07T13:05:39-05:00'
describe
'74208' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWQ' 'sip-files00028.pro'
6bbf71ea1d3aba80ff29118d51b88a02
eebe8d0869b82e0e024ef16f69fefe35f19c63cb
'2011-11-07T13:04:58-05:00'
describe
'39923' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWR' 'sip-files00028.QC.jpg'
f7efa2222dfc2074e4c774fa5a19851b
7e8dafd4b370d3eeb5756f69a20b0ad4df66052d
describe
'5426684' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWS' 'sip-files00028.tif'
e8aa4c9701c77a5ceec6f3692440797e
735abe0c9cf73e5d09a7724a1350b17f4740dcda
describe
'2951' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWT' 'sip-files00028.txt'
5d7035f92bc9249f0be85dfb859ffefb
d40fa521395bec0f44e1a43ebeeb2d42f1742d4b
describe
'9034' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWU' 'sip-files00028thm.jpg'
bba8d2c043b448a63d1b914d2959c73c
1bb10c88d5bde80536286026344bd9773707a352
'2011-11-07T13:06:04-05:00'
describe
'676569' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWV' 'sip-files00029.jp2'
ab0813858eb395253bebd32391c9ab23
894cd5596e192fe95801b174166b2292d1f4abeb
'2011-11-07T13:06:58-05:00'
describe
'132801' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWW' 'sip-files00029.jpg'
b3466835da9d5a3062bab155c635882a
1822864db8d7ecdd6dfd3599e2b69a6b3803328d
describe
'53608' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWX' 'sip-files00029.pro'
652e9fbc1c8b84ac73942fcece903758
984f10dc4bf23cf7819e35836be7400633a4cea0
describe
'36012' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWY' 'sip-files00029.QC.jpg'
26ff5282bbbf956c589d65fab0655c87
ed2a2ba88f3d6bda1662ff4f0a0425436605a779
'2011-11-07T13:07:50-05:00'
describe
'5426636' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASWZ' 'sip-files00029.tif'
4b2f9a93c38d4f330d8792acc4dcae74
cc407626192a6061db140bc90c112e50fa1e79f2
'2011-11-07T13:08:11-05:00'
describe
'2306' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXA' 'sip-files00029.txt'
a498658698448f7e44480d8e4a8c1afc
861ee3d506dcecc349edda9d548a3ec2a238cbb3
describe
'8339' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXB' 'sip-files00029thm.jpg'
4e33f16e1aca71387adbd6bec17a6c97
b189ac8f6aeb110bd9f91188b4fcbbb7d5816884
'2011-11-07T13:07:26-05:00'
describe
'676711' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXC' 'sip-files00030.jp2'
14ea0e19f9fcd74d0dc0d5d24e5c1f7c
2ef9105dfede233cc23fe8b8bee083483b0c346d
describe
'137105' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXD' 'sip-files00030.jpg'
2662ac701a0ee112ef83dcb5080983ce
c0a46782ad0aba955b74d6c1737397e5fdcfaea7
'2011-11-07T13:04:43-05:00'
describe
'53986' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXE' 'sip-files00030.pro'
a7e0359f07b254da31cc44eadca7780d
2bfdee92fbc5903c80bc190ad0ab7e01aaefd1d2
'2011-11-07T13:05:10-05:00'
describe
'37990' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXF' 'sip-files00030.QC.jpg'
09b4159ddac5786357adf177c1e266a8
2682575932e696285446c9cecde34d3f1787c4ec
'2011-11-07T13:08:22-05:00'
describe
'5427012' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXG' 'sip-files00030.tif'
e55b5c3bf87dd52799789ef7566ba00c
3e2b0cf2552890cc8ed2910156595bd5b8692a37
describe
'2949' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXH' 'sip-files00030.txt'
17918caea26fb3e39022d0e81b1eec38
d638cd20683c7d51e87d8fcdf78470b81a2e230c
describe
Invalid character
'8980' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXI' 'sip-files00030thm.jpg'
d5e0d680fd67e2d41ab136b50dc48a43
4e01b8b13abc928248f6df5afc67b41b9a8f18e1
describe
'676730' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXJ' 'sip-files00031.jp2'
376506c07a3dc0e972c2ee6528f0f169
4f2980b92e8c862ac44f4b0bf7f9583745382047
'2011-11-07T13:06:11-05:00'
describe
'129893' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXK' 'sip-files00031.jpg'
1b2a4881f402ba437f35162737fcf456
00bc054748050b5589980efb369053a16643224d
describe
'46905' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXL' 'sip-files00031.pro'
b523561a8af1177b40f8adcd43dc5689
71f606e0822855883f5b3369ccd251135312e7ed
'2011-11-07T13:06:32-05:00'
describe
'35266' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXM' 'sip-files00031.QC.jpg'
0fc3dce228bcce40b286db00ff037e8e
442ab964b1da4d9ad61f807e7f3f9ec3d622c9bb
describe
'5426628' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXN' 'sip-files00031.tif'
67d07728d60091d4262728879cdf7ce8
99fc311b489bceac09d0ec7f508be2250ce7e426
'2011-11-07T13:04:24-05:00'
describe
'1963' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXO' 'sip-files00031.txt'
901e4ee914b9ef2e60c62cb8a1cefa05
35bf4f1d9d1893d2838707067f470b8f09b082b5
describe
'8579' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXP' 'sip-files00031thm.jpg'
7c2fbf71821d8493c9a5a53dad6fb5e9
b744731ad53ba6a9f8508ee451e35e750c7ceb6a
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXQ' 'sip-files00032.jp2'
2467e95881e1797df5e821702b3819e1
8ca42694501591ddf997f7009682d9f5483bcbea
describe
'81448' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXR' 'sip-files00032.jpg'
07e25703009ef53bba93d31eb3ea42f3
9aa08145bffffcfb37f6f6bce3a7674a4829d9ad
'2011-11-07T13:07:13-05:00'
describe
'10820' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXS' 'sip-files00032.pro'
841dd32f5061a19ab8957b48e167182d
fa7d386d53af1d54f0b7404182bb54b80744c079
describe
'22595' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXT' 'sip-files00032.QC.jpg'
b08d0caaedce56374ddca6b724c737b1
fc62f6707efcef6abce760915bacb16646f18895
'2011-11-07T13:08:27-05:00'
describe
'5425084' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXU' 'sip-files00032.tif'
048c91589fb6eaa687fff4b72076f3c1
bc685275b4b4efb434f3e872a229a40b96810977
'2011-11-07T13:08:13-05:00'
describe
'478' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXV' 'sip-files00032.txt'
036381168b0210a7b90c5403f844fdde
0eab3f5c79794575af95d223bc1e1278cdce3657
describe
'5861' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXW' 'sip-files00032thm.jpg'
fa18407a1ece0b14c12688f4775ac8b2
75c5964debeaddb4495ffced8932c202429ab6e4
describe
'676714' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXX' 'sip-files00033.jp2'
4f32b1d1a33798fc37dff900ceac4790
2f208611d9a5d8a15e390bc215d32330b6c06279
describe
'115501' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXY' 'sip-files00033.jpg'
faf6835b84bcd8f5fa80c101d142b245
b1f3801330764f4050ffde3ebf3ebc52f15ee7c8
'2011-11-07T13:06:55-05:00'
describe
'51796' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASXZ' 'sip-files00033.pro'
d54fc0d591f7f8f1733494b07fd4dcd6
bbbdd50c04fac387a383edbe716008a5d7f997b9
describe
'33071' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYA' 'sip-files00033.QC.jpg'
cfd62ae9a1a8661792f1004198bb3dbb
dd1bf4e4a254493278d68fd6db2aea3fa31a6bad
'2011-11-07T13:06:00-05:00'
describe
'5426168' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYB' 'sip-files00033.tif'
0a0cab68e3c948f52acee7fc5e470257
1bd65e7c241e6e936914f37babef87d4dd0c9464
'2011-11-07T13:08:38-05:00'
describe
'2514' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYC' 'sip-files00033.txt'
b4f43ef64ea1e1cd54b8461d01080064
3de11ccc295f4cbe136d71afbee08e823a4993f8
describe
'8013' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYD' 'sip-files00033thm.jpg'
8c026e4cd3d2321da64d68ef539798d6
0427b749124e6b976b324ffeb61bdd9bd76018d9
'2011-11-07T13:08:34-05:00'
describe
'676712' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYE' 'sip-files00034.jp2'
0ba7be7a94abe860c742eddc84d942ea
bb7b659f1466cb3529ddfacf5c1f5b9357a3f632
describe
'109347' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYF' 'sip-files00034.jpg'
386123603cd93a96ba5bfb0b0ac6bfc6
bd10ab269a9d1ee46335f7921e0e7c33c712ba7c
describe
'16141' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYG' 'sip-files00034.pro'
c6cb7a35d7713f9c5fe1cfd9e8b5dc41
7cf06883878cd7ffcbd40319e871d82ca51f2a10
describe
'28239' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYH' 'sip-files00034.QC.jpg'
888848d371901adad91f15e14f1b3c24
6ee237ff31444a998351278acade294b3b6d75e1
describe
'5425488' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYI' 'sip-files00034.tif'
faf9523b893fc5da204dd27c3878af49
89c51c90a194e593d7efb21d54699f99f2d8e26d
describe
'670' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYJ' 'sip-files00034.txt'
0666b6863e5220c820ae1da1fee10959
929d65f38b50ecaea321ecfb1ec0c4db82d14bcf
describe
Invalid character
'6967' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYK' 'sip-files00034thm.jpg'
e00f2678122db40021dc83ea1e21b2e6
76c4f7ee3aaad60b61ebf4af9b620228aa9aca5e
'2011-11-07T13:06:22-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYL' 'sip-files00035.jp2'
a40d13a4fee8834ba1067000f0bbba1f
fcd67f0db3bb02fcc7911a04f7f669741a26ba05
'2011-11-07T13:07:30-05:00'
describe
'117130' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYM' 'sip-files00035.jpg'
32142cb2f7ec223e3d0f45e57338aedc
486c4d8aa71faa4f2ffcc4bdffa796a3d108f346
describe
'61548' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYN' 'sip-files00035.pro'
71c69531aa1b74f3180b024424a931bf
e9c55da96c38ebd09ba81e6905a32a7777f39176
'2011-11-07T13:04:55-05:00'
describe
'34107' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYO' 'sip-files00035.QC.jpg'
2654b967c95a2921702cb36a56c60a79
04032eb26225ff3c3b2e43ccf94059777bc533f4
describe
'5425800' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYP' 'sip-files00035.tif'
2cd8c5ac78a23875e9cc30d1316c837d
c363cd5eb91d77667fde329f895011807f5dfea3
describe
'2583' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYQ' 'sip-files00035.txt'
603181aa37738283a220d0c9251eb67a
e4be287e08672495dec62eb4bed7bb07be47cbb4
'2011-11-07T13:06:13-05:00'
describe
'7970' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYR' 'sip-files00035thm.jpg'
8486412a4f19dd19c3b4e9d6da187ef7
71c668262cb68b7169e53adf47ac8668938572b1
'2011-11-07T13:07:37-05:00'
describe
'676718' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYS' 'sip-files00036.jp2'
3874892f70abc59ef6a5373b773d164d
1ce8a2e8ffce194b33c2fe19706e2e53778dda86
'2011-11-07T13:08:35-05:00'
describe
'126113' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYT' 'sip-files00036.jpg'
57035908665db4a7df7638b97060b288
bcd2412b76fea020d8149a395df56d0721790160
'2011-11-07T13:05:22-05:00'
describe
'41646' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYU' 'sip-files00036.pro'
c4b456139a91da46abd6df2b5ed50db1
4f564ce345a488215af36e146b9fa17565929996
'2011-11-07T13:05:26-05:00'
describe
'34823' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYV' 'sip-files00036.QC.jpg'
49ab081077ab8ab1f3f399156b8799f1
a9f37a432be1aeac95f71c3aaf9d3d3910ca4ab5
'2011-11-07T13:07:43-05:00'
describe
'5426696' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYW' 'sip-files00036.tif'
905533cb06cb8e921cc4ec17b99b6969
f37bb8ed05e38d84b87b3b01fbcd284c322b1c96
describe
'2223' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYX' 'sip-files00036.txt'
625982f03054cbab1af945b90602c446
ec90c6c21fd581b11da766f250ae44c91c98c0d0
describe
Invalid character
'8463' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYY' 'sip-files00036thm.jpg'
c1f4fe1d14720941a76b2150c03a1084
4608b124295206ed315ac701e75811a12c4c1434
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASYZ' 'sip-files00037.jp2'
1283d4f9473719a625bcbd706285c327
312b2468eec55236f81b73c3ab0fafdde61310c7
'2011-11-07T13:07:00-05:00'
describe
'121775' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZA' 'sip-files00037.jpg'
1f9c33cd5cfe7f2930fe848ae1da0db2
1939544e658e182de8249da91f6262913d0a7245
'2011-11-07T13:08:45-05:00'
describe
'63189' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZB' 'sip-files00037.pro'
f8f3eb03d61d550ff8bf63cbd06ca4fa
b44effd30e1950f0ab7b51ed4c269a86d9a6eee8
'2011-11-07T13:08:32-05:00'
describe
'35507' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZC' 'sip-files00037.QC.jpg'
bac17f6f22674c721fd8934e7eb4f4a9
c59d26a6f9a8a05e7e87eb29d67f60fc40ae900f
describe
'5426436' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZD' 'sip-files00037.tif'
2637f8884816ecabdc7b2900848cb7a9
7831c9ee6900fe99f6f8727c86347e3f737a9fb8
describe
'2544' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZE' 'sip-files00037.txt'
508c96904aebadd6f6071b6c97605f62
0511082e8a4adbda9d78e28d1dfc647d0d06f7d6
describe
'8623' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZF' 'sip-files00037thm.jpg'
b5dcec53e5e508208c9bdf11b9008689
973a45d18bdfeb4eeffffb351909f5b0c17ca6d1
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZG' 'sip-files00038.jp2'
ed17e91fcad01eaacfc76fc927090f46
562f2561b7d5c7623f76546e1d151368a9bc6310
describe
'131754' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZH' 'sip-files00038.jpg'
6e63586c49dc67e843e52ac0b9595b90
7480e8b4bc7ce7b0198a8eeacb1d85d7b2bb9a95
'2011-11-07T13:06:59-05:00'
describe
'52358' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZI' 'sip-files00038.pro'
156c46544a2e4c046ba640917c065a34
59b8eb4cc76061480a2d12d85ec381cb89dc164f
'2011-11-07T13:06:53-05:00'
describe
'36557' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZJ' 'sip-files00038.QC.jpg'
f9de7df10b92074d7d3827f32f0886d2
c7d8af7474c33ffaa93dd3ce6b6b37ef9b8f9f7c
describe
'5426900' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZK' 'sip-files00038.tif'
995200a72f1805ffbea4c11b9e445c99
e1adafbebea72b7aa5d2f88640e4eeed0ffdae57
describe
'2873' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZL' 'sip-files00038.txt'
7846730763d9f55a42e754e5ff3d77e8
75d2ef13bf55348d555314ce2be3cd34f9e0fa78
describe
'8687' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZM' 'sip-files00038thm.jpg'
5a4cf0ef1e41f006b2d2920968b9131f
1d8d9593e884c8f712342f5ba3b9efbad6f281b7
'2011-11-07T13:08:39-05:00'
describe
'676592' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZN' 'sip-files00039.jp2'
78a9d8a913ecdfd4255f9804fc8b32fa
92563357f827d91a4a701383062c472f08230e88
'2011-11-07T13:06:26-05:00'
describe
'97891' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZO' 'sip-files00039.jpg'
0edf6937f2ae98b8d54ae7f19fef2fc6
b5f06da70ad8ba94e71ecd3bc010ad6af6b658aa
describe
'33543' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZP' 'sip-files00039.pro'
c9e87707db712e141c5a4e9676d0f581
22094274bb9175e543935bb7a98274d90bced3b6
describe
'27714' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZQ' 'sip-files00039.QC.jpg'
4270be1221d072a5397a22b9ec0e3c02
3698b1e0787ee426eef32018f1ec55f4e723551e
describe
'5425712' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZR' 'sip-files00039.tif'
e0d1ccd5b2b5fc4890bcf880dabbd1ef
4a4732fe4955d4143bf5e1b13d85adc823e8bef1
'2011-11-07T13:07:58-05:00'
describe
'1420' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZS' 'sip-files00039.txt'
d545671dd2d5750ef35df52b4b77166e
35cc2c13a07178a8e25c5fd19988177e7f24e609
'2011-11-07T13:05:05-05:00'
describe
Invalid character
'6962' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZT' 'sip-files00039thm.jpg'
54bc1a65113e770511487a686c68de71
65d17e64a27dbb2734192b57bb3e268c307e4285
describe
'676631' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZU' 'sip-files00040.jp2'
48d36744cd231dc6005340160d03c8e7
57210e1023e85cb7bbb65bc5bdeb568299611a93
'2011-11-07T13:05:03-05:00'
describe
'73394' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZV' 'sip-files00040.jpg'
f058cf2df410dc5c856ed1571975618b
c86a67fd59a09977cf983cabf7e2719e40010dce
describe
'20484' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZW' 'sip-files00040.pro'
8726fb480847f7051e235f446fb93a73
3139049912727cf7b9bbb98d12fd6c7257ae2c7e
'2011-11-07T13:06:31-05:00'
describe
'19213' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZX' 'sip-files00040.QC.jpg'
744160377055e2a241077558a4294fe5
b1e817ccb4cb3f0087c2d46faa3e68a3ad2f8190
describe
'5423764' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZY' 'sip-files00040.tif'
d3fef7edc8deaf8f3182790a91cac713
1b7fe87f222df9308a0b29281bbc1311c7686ee6
describe
'1363' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAASZZ' 'sip-files00040.txt'
95896fde9f32fa5a98ce8023b9384fbf
2aa2d3ab9e2e16c8d58e41b75d482ed337dd2515
describe
'4492' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAA' 'sip-files00040thm.jpg'
779bac4da81d538abd93fc3bb3c703c5
54fec44517938b4b3e714fab9396f8aa5d299417
'2011-11-07T13:06:57-05:00'
describe
'602114' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAB' 'sip-files00041.jp2'
4bb41386f7bfe97bd5f4abf9f91499ec
bae2ab5157009c18db7b635c417d29245c443af5
describe
'111368' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAC' 'sip-files00041.jpg'
96229b89e832ec9a614205114aabe03f
8c3b091a051d09409aefe1b137f1a6236c42fcab
'2011-11-07T13:08:02-05:00'
describe
'1614' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAD' 'sip-files00041.pro'
af53a4f46438d505d7ac15420ab69d50
6a45f8de88872f2fd4b747840b6ea36318516f48
describe
'24141' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAE' 'sip-files00041.QC.jpg'
0426a850a390b79aa93fc1a8100f0aac
3ac771215f5e647502f57d70667674b2c6aa44d1
describe
'14459816' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAF' 'sip-files00041.tif'
bd387f290844e3c139f95108b0dec7c2
b2e61de56a32b20c924fa7e777a2385c17a9da7f
'2011-11-07T13:08:28-05:00'
describe
'126' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAG' 'sip-files00041.txt'
d0fc73120ff02b307d86c58c7e09e3cc
d487479c7770e991f8f80fa5a928f1298763fb3a
'2011-11-07T13:08:29-05:00'
describe
Invalid character
'6218' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAH' 'sip-files00041thm.jpg'
7aad02cd62e8c70f66becdcfabddd3b5
35e0b7bf4da8df6d73617bbf59ff36e59409aaf2
'2011-11-07T13:07:40-05:00'
describe
'676715' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAI' 'sip-files00043.jp2'
c5ffb3bea62f6a0db51c11e2c928fbcd
2145340bf48901a64bcca4af988ac46660bda251
'2011-11-07T13:08:04-05:00'
describe
'135460' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAJ' 'sip-files00043.jpg'
0bd065ad35a13e0e727d613b334e888a
86a9c500e79e2ea05bb8b29537c9f394ddffa6be
'2011-11-07T13:07:04-05:00'
describe
'58051' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAK' 'sip-files00043.pro'
265c7b99aae82a79fcbca5c40296b9bf
6ca43a67f0c182a7b4877ebb5f545b3b727b9f0e
'2011-11-07T13:07:53-05:00'
describe
'37610' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAL' 'sip-files00043.QC.jpg'
76a52a8eb9f0dfdcec220be4cd08d116
1f0ceb28b2a8f382489475704d4fb6eac2a048d7
describe
'5426844' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAM' 'sip-files00043.tif'
c75d780fcc651f1cc83681d1a447919b
7267183f5ad6d97f3c8f097ae7b391f3409528c3
'2011-11-07T13:04:26-05:00'
describe
'2659' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAN' 'sip-files00043.txt'
9ffd8c0f3f1563bedbd10697317794f7
34b93d28acae00e07c7cde70edd9313a8613a0c6
describe
'8887' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAO' 'sip-files00043thm.jpg'
dc28efc8e7249fcde9ff439bc671e626
33e264f51fb6394e133a97fe689edf82462001bc
'2011-11-07T13:08:25-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAP' 'sip-files00044.jp2'
88a6baafccd09505bfd0abc814de9657
de00719aad77ae08ba3ada5413973c28abdcb7a2
describe
'137958' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAQ' 'sip-files00044.jpg'
8f39e54a2378104beeb01eee7bf03f98
bdcf4a36b97cc80e76af4dd14704522ccac79d60
'2011-11-07T13:05:12-05:00'
describe
'73316' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAR' 'sip-files00044.pro'
357f9edd40714e1a827c109b2a3b64ad
11c46c03f81eb194d8de33859c180a9244782ecb
describe
'39118' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAS' 'sip-files00044.QC.jpg'
10cdf8b591a2f6b36ae94d30347c243b
2064b0c08e0b2b62a273184f7645f7671f977966
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAT' 'sip-files00044.tif'
7fc2d9b32702af6d204932486d0b698b
ee7ecb1f13756b1a46bc74afbb7bb73bc9587998
'2011-11-07T13:05:53-05:00'
describe
'2920' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAU' 'sip-files00044.txt'
727fdbcb287645b54a46a613411a269b
6ee68ce12b403c516dee02641837a689178aac88
'2011-11-07T13:04:36-05:00'
describe
'9074' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAV' 'sip-files00044thm.jpg'
3ad5d7e43b78d97b261226f46f1b8a93
a5fe19aa9977e61868b862a7f498e8a53e107aec
describe
'676707' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAW' 'sip-files00045.jp2'
90d91707e6813519a4225aadd2f3b1f6
68b7056fbf844fdc18663cb317d8c7a5b9f87074
describe
'93966' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAX' 'sip-files00045.jpg'
4ba0decac91630bc224e026989fa7b7f
b9e5cd03a4ed107869434ca644ec7093bf4b5478
describe
'35256' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAY' 'sip-files00045.pro'
d817921d3bc8a0f9dc68ca3819c4da19
c38d4e68198dcd24de30ad8f2fa3193708641fdc
describe
'26357' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATAZ' 'sip-files00045.QC.jpg'
92bdf5617ab1ff1d64fbeba4b6cc9796
ee6c1f4d5d6043a361e9a40022ca1b26d6ce7276
'2011-11-07T13:04:27-05:00'
describe
'5425272' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBA' 'sip-files00045.tif'
aace16152ac9b0e9290cf27a3fc330fc
2b15fa18f3e8004433d15b5da6e6596121dec417
'2011-11-07T13:07:22-05:00'
describe
'1819' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBB' 'sip-files00045.txt'
4f19c548d7cffd264fc142fa152739fe
e88c3d6122be712130bac36e3376bde8460a672e
describe
'6396' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBC' 'sip-files00045thm.jpg'
64de389b9a102fa20222abe347335a86
8551850d533bdef40671fd46f632bec12ddd031f
describe
'647794' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBD' 'sip-files00046.jp2'
12a0d8cc3181025bf835b8f1cde2e480
7c4d271f8070913665511f63b1c70759272ff256
describe
'56694' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBE' 'sip-files00046.jpg'
4f8d5c4cd0e250a3cea6d74c15fcf61a
1349aeef97e92afe43818f2e1c307410b999387e
describe
'23259' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBF' 'sip-files00046.pro'
6da939a748ad1f3cf35bc16b0f1e7872
738ea39ecf225aca9862706f0eaaa42291b48725
'2011-11-07T13:07:34-05:00'
describe
'16490' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBG' 'sip-files00046.QC.jpg'
a4e29f706c21d75d4eb0c278b5d517b4
45a12c37bb67e8fc22d62be7350c6c607a63e772
'2011-11-07T13:05:37-05:00'
describe
'5424136' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBH' 'sip-files00046.tif'
a6683e07a92fefc7ecb4f04f8fdd267a
786b995c46f5d20aa7f8f08ff80a52beabe9d9ff
describe
'1478' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBI' 'sip-files00046.txt'
e83de7463cb475520cd8a65e3548aaf5
fb7cdf2c5ff456c762a349ff63697263f6c40b9d
describe
'4715' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBJ' 'sip-files00046thm.jpg'
babe6ae6fd8360853aa0d6b6ca82d5e1
3a43d84a657b1148bdb6ac81ae388416f0906d27
describe
'676654' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBK' 'sip-files00047.jp2'
bb7e91eef3d85e1af04974268710a882
33e256b0082fec7069e6c8e3018ad1ded10ba575
describe
'122865' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBL' 'sip-files00047.jpg'
daa82f198aafe389dbec6c2ec3b49a49
4a826b78679329993175c734e30d2bc92caf5e50
'2011-11-07T13:06:39-05:00'
describe
'43054' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBM' 'sip-files00047.pro'
7e91306a5996a4eb50ff755edaec60b1
e1a1349660f443a78b67e8488304efa283542124
'2011-11-07T13:06:14-05:00'
describe
'33207' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBN' 'sip-files00047.QC.jpg'
cdf8b6b6725f6a84dfc9d310675f2015
c9d13937a3ab29eb99f198906997bea927217abe
describe
'5426336' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBO' 'sip-files00047.tif'
36ea27c89d87852251684c6add3db0c1
38a1e0db1b19d3b600488137038ce9af637e5144
describe
'2450' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBP' 'sip-files00047.txt'
83c52a7eaca5705e58b6ac51dd99fa7c
3b2c538be9420b2801a31c590481e8c11303b08d
describe
Invalid character
'8251' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBQ' 'sip-files00047thm.jpg'
fa3629b23ab66a25f6eb705ee5d075c2
7a7f121a67bbca5706ec33a621f31a7558ce72fb
'2011-11-07T13:05:51-05:00'
describe
'676726' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBR' 'sip-files00048.jp2'
4a9ad9bc6c4a81109050617f06215107
120d1ed8c5cb9d4d904e22db470c971f9f71bed8
'2011-11-07T13:07:48-05:00'
describe
'116749' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBS' 'sip-files00048.jpg'
d118fcdc1755c136d0c98bbcb04c79d8
75f3fc2e8942d24b92747815d2f7422c49d5cc7e
describe
'61047' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBT' 'sip-files00048.pro'
48c7f63d9b8b75101b01878442c08f49
be2375f756dda911f3d9895105f8ad84f4462511
describe
'34886' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBU' 'sip-files00048.QC.jpg'
c6b36bc994b5299d89b74ffa0ca38422
b3969c19d26af78828fa474ae215fc1209bf7ff3
describe
'5426220' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBV' 'sip-files00048.tif'
5ad2482dce5d6215f3032cced2292a25
a3cd9071d55edb2607462f3c6fe03ef293bdec79
describe
'2489' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBW' 'sip-files00048.txt'
6f58a66f179765b24cca6fc6a4b5c2ef
7a12484d378590baa738535936f54fe0f0f2ed24
describe
'8366' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBX' 'sip-files00048thm.jpg'
4b46125d5b66964c774d2da657b31bdb
23312206a8c90fd1577e39637204b13a49fc6b66
describe
'676713' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBY' 'sip-files00049.jp2'
85f5bed74d2bc2725fac967da2fd2928
a0ca9d2ae8bf3d5a3f8db3d7e6f8365da78a8278
describe
'111063' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATBZ' 'sip-files00049.jpg'
33be1a9ff42929013c6fa0cc502bcbc7
7c792ccf9a474a0d787059f71448ca2df4b780a9
'2011-11-07T13:07:36-05:00'
describe
'20971' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCA' 'sip-files00049.pro'
e2ab5a7a0a07f43391330875277bff4a
4b30dfc2578fae8d8a5604f4d1536592c8e820e0
describe
'29409' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCB' 'sip-files00049.QC.jpg'
67669ae946a5dff547bf9cdd48c65f4d
cbf4c64eb1af0d3f9a5f44da6e884903e5235b72
describe
'5425992' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCC' 'sip-files00049.tif'
a931e849fa2a61e447dca8eb9f3f25be
e96d06922cf3df3069a40613d864c9984ffea109
'2011-11-07T13:05:24-05:00'
describe
'857' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCD' 'sip-files00049.txt'
4c14bce37bd04b0a96994387437a9a37
63034723eca8ba5b921e0e29e2e98b86bc04e818
describe
'7319' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCE' 'sip-files00049thm.jpg'
6b5723047d7327a58a62c07e6c078916
2edfc5c3ea8798ee5d30fd5d0ea21a3217c9922e
'2011-11-07T13:05:43-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCF' 'sip-files00050.jp2'
db6326baa8e50b25a2eb73ebaf941b6c
3eaf214173a984c377af49f83506c656a3f7ce2e
describe
'106638' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCG' 'sip-files00050.jpg'
ad73c0b0f45f2f8d9f82434a9b8c6988
2805c61275e03913737ed32d6c91adde206cca49
describe
'38354' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCH' 'sip-files00050.pro'
6b0a1cf1762ee3ff93afab82b5fbf0d5
6b979e52ad41d9ec8473b5f3f5c7e3d2e6a06c8e
describe
'29052' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCI' 'sip-files00050.QC.jpg'
36cd11f4dd5ed7fab54c86616638408a
78b610f4a90ad393c0bd5feb301e2d4896de837d
describe
'5425636' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCJ' 'sip-files00050.tif'
6b28dbe5228a4400f43fef819f5cff14
b3f6e9852d81215095b062942b9000babcdaf22f
'2011-11-07T13:05:07-05:00'
describe
'2654' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCK' 'sip-files00050.txt'
edab133a96610853c60775fc4c6ebba7
cca413b961eaa2f0dfc23f173e3e40d3bc45fd3d
describe
'7297' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCL' 'sip-files00050thm.jpg'
f9f4bab65183f1e4e4c63ca77919ac04
6aff22f47e0a0d35fcc80f6cefeaf7073b8266ad
describe
'676622' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCM' 'sip-files00051.jp2'
a12300a766b1a9eb4d08fddeff22ae04
8415afe2ea577b0515f1a5227c6c997027c68f27
describe
'132087' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCN' 'sip-files00051.jpg'
587039daac20812eb683de9ff7f52b64
c10632c37f225646457555d9dba98b4518a24c67
'2011-11-07T13:07:10-05:00'
describe
'44535' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCO' 'sip-files00051.pro'
043a489a2dfa7c4c921fb339cd1700b4
cdbb85045e828d6886c548bbdbcd2cdbdc7bbad8
describe
'35875' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCP' 'sip-files00051.QC.jpg'
040c96573af0164448a7a5af4082e1dc
53813f6d8b35515f16192a657e23c0e6695ef68d
describe
'5427040' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCQ' 'sip-files00051.tif'
bc33adb5a130920b1533e7f5a0c7b6f9
535e72d3c2b2cfb84865e04af10efefa94395c1e
describe
'1884' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCR' 'sip-files00051.txt'
a53e30ff14f2b047554c3d4216030e26
f248638239fe040fb07b83d78c1079400303e6a6
describe
'9044' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCS' 'sip-files00051thm.jpg'
8251a34310b14e9a2b83ad5cede8a699
e80902cd073d28ea2c75cb29ccc3697a565f0a9d
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCT' 'sip-files00052.jp2'
d5f13c5b6e71728404aabea0204f8a87
ddecefe99b3d2445c882e22597d2d22419e8b361
describe
'147585' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCU' 'sip-files00052.jpg'
919a2c4f2a3aa9186a0df1498a55afd4
4458eebc02c139f1ae1d11a0be2193ac9f6ab07e
describe
'67441' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCV' 'sip-files00052.pro'
84dc9cd3a2c65cf05babc9b550edbf18
5e5f184198c6f52f53cb572978692f16500df3ff
describe
'40618' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCW' 'sip-files00052.QC.jpg'
ad6246190370a00e321de52c1981786a
8865b89a24659a17424ac8bb216cc383e319cf7d
describe
'5426920' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCX' 'sip-files00052.tif'
f40757751b407b162e11181f497a0d01
d6f6551986de6d8c7fab2dceca44edcf5e0d58b5
describe
'2687' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCY' 'sip-files00052.txt'
7b71358fe235a0f78f882d51f1a40c12
3c0b54adbaff3a1688e0305faaea62f616ffbf0b
describe
'9354' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATCZ' 'sip-files00052thm.jpg'
dc70922d113fcab2cf3aaa04a7200177
7f7f28050dbfc5fb12648f32fb1854c5b6e530f8
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDA' 'sip-files00053.jp2'
26164c7ad00058f8b0a7dc62a84d0c40
311287a25652311961f94d47a28e4c0e6201c112
describe
'133772' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDB' 'sip-files00053.jpg'
871f37438f82501b03157ab9074160d1
118e42e669817888334698d45eb82d22275537fd
describe
'47928' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDC' 'sip-files00053.pro'
16324f341bf88ebdebd1dcdb5d37fedb
fc33d51168aa3616c2df7d33712b645404c87b26
describe
'36106' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDD' 'sip-files00053.QC.jpg'
33de36ad550aa6302cfe160ccd05495c
c9411692bf2fdcbffa31ff381ea250754080639b
describe
'5426836' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDE' 'sip-files00053.tif'
884cce2e9c8715cb9860f0e0ca568a0d
c6ed35201171a947bb425e721b64363c2a302ae6
describe
'1959' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDF' 'sip-files00053.txt'
68a6bf71afeb8496c70df08edbb4b2cc
ee50f8c8babbda3aaadcca9ad22d1777740acb3f
describe
'8601' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDG' 'sip-files00053thm.jpg'
bdcd46b42a6050d8f6685803fcb9f224
ef0424dc29f8f3580711d82d621738f542ac2635
'2011-11-07T13:05:19-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDH' 'sip-files00054.jp2'
36d73b43eaaff4f9d459c26acf1f1f8a
7e591336c91af4e319437b84f332974008260ddf
describe
'135947' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDI' 'sip-files00054.jpg'
d24977a8163db027452bea4f48ffa4a9
e9914f0bb80765bae3e04702e0b4cf08f2cc8aa6
describe
'53595' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDJ' 'sip-files00054.pro'
edca9575915d990d69e59b8194b720ff
7dab9aff8fe89800be9cd1f14083d8476a748baa
'2011-11-07T13:07:38-05:00'
describe
'35955' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDK' 'sip-files00054.QC.jpg'
e2bdf1703a5c6c985fef421e62dbe987
cb8d76211aa6948b0f1738928abc463a0f2db827
describe
'5426512' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDL' 'sip-files00054.tif'
27fcf938d1576822d3a3a7f0837a33c7
fbbc1918a7838f6927b49a749d7cf4a5fdc97018
describe
'2389' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDM' 'sip-files00054.txt'
59dc2ead709217a73b916e9f219d101e
c77b00c8d59e5ef447a9074e365a61a0ac256b20
describe
'8707' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDN' 'sip-files00054thm.jpg'
a970af20ff015b80da65b7ed8895a738
153151295d7019486d10f1a434c740e0f4f28413
describe
'509117' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDO' 'sip-files00055.jp2'
a7f1880daa1ad9512462942793435668
69bffde947af574a9d3eeeee1bf031e534898c5e
describe
'161858' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDP' 'sip-files00055.jpg'
5b18e138505d2b502cc6804c41558ca2
283d3164014a8a94a5679ced13f5aabd451ac1ac
describe
'1491' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDQ' 'sip-files00055.pro'
c1de3b826de5d6be30202d022b8678c1
ed4ed9522d3c6142832ece58fa635a27a78b3f42
'2011-11-07T13:08:01-05:00'
describe
'36645' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDR' 'sip-files00055.QC.jpg'
12ea7c4c5ae7435a459b7db52ffd5b2d
dd74a63084f4a0873235f3dff8af58896b0a5c8b
'2011-11-07T13:07:41-05:00'
describe
'12231620' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDS' 'sip-files00055.tif'
06845bc270e66ad68d703d51cf66eef4
7ec0199b2ce87e4d0c76893ebfa4194aa7075cfb
'2011-11-07T13:07:08-05:00'
describe
'230' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDT' 'sip-files00055.txt'
cd76baf4f3fad537e0aac8f4f55d005f
0356a5152071dfc7214326b54ac14b79686597c9
describe
Invalid character
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDU' 'sip-files00055thm.jpg'
57fb04b9efa9c2976a6eda1a054865f8
eda431a9c7b5013c33dfe505c891b60700d1077b
describe
'676594' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDV' 'sip-files00057.jp2'
8895c9151bed4be538efe6b6cda390c5
c06d169e1a5f98b4992f27f14442202beca1c894
describe
'102275' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDW' 'sip-files00057.jpg'
e9c6eee61a603d4f4d19494767d822a3
738b936e0d0187d50906f817e1664a9a4143982e
describe
'11395' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDX' 'sip-files00057.pro'
f7bc41c3689b08056045e2bc739de0c3
2f5f18e834efe0ca48deb65936314577dd71d09f
describe
'24758' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDY' 'sip-files00057.QC.jpg'
27e96d28822dda3e908c64defcabb88c
3dd767016f00cdaa699e1de622b680db1fc1f7e5
describe
'5425340' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATDZ' 'sip-files00057.tif'
e1b03d5aa22aaf63e5ef910d5242cd4f
2b542068b44d4922cf253f16f0ec12473af4db43
'2011-11-07T13:05:18-05:00'
describe
'512' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEA' 'sip-files00057.txt'
fdf7d762d8a8c9fbc0b43a6e72a6418a
3fc20900ed7beed1f8142be0802dfcbe4a8348af
'2011-11-07T13:05:33-05:00'
describe
'6211' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEB' 'sip-files00057thm.jpg'
981a4e23a15265a8485f17e41d4330b4
22814ea95d29b708f42e1cb498c6defc2ad6de7f
describe
'676727' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEC' 'sip-files00058.jp2'
b9f225f6c7c19d8507fb545505f0f9d8
945432f4e0d9b7d0e99446738cccd50b15e03b4a
describe
'137853' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATED' 'sip-files00058.jpg'
27425e9f8189f57612f0220cf7a5f2e8
8cbe01e8769aa8ea1dba4c003b08475ebf065f1f
'2011-11-07T13:07:52-05:00'
describe
'68494' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEE' 'sip-files00058.pro'
bc23df9e8b6da4e13444d423907859f2
ab68176714454c8da8eb3e5a88997967b590aa99
'2011-11-07T13:05:30-05:00'
describe
'39469' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEF' 'sip-files00058.QC.jpg'
45586707813fec956e0fc5d839d202d3
bec6c2746131179855e5fd9a2d05be81676e57bb
describe
'5426664' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEG' 'sip-files00058.tif'
b73920da9f4f5653bad899d6f57f9925
929c8143dd9b60973f73190d3a7effb387816c5a
describe
'2728' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEH' 'sip-files00058.txt'
96bf3be1544ff678a592f58cdc7a4093
8c86d2fa92065b92f865a98fe391e9c494de5865
describe
'9245' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEI' 'sip-files00058thm.jpg'
74fc6c85005a7ca305856fa513655c56
0448951ba087e02553589650ef892a4e6dacb8bd
describe
'676717' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEJ' 'sip-files00059.jp2'
6dcbebf095e825cf197f2add8b1fd185
11df3b3b05f1048ae73df09f4b8682c8c4393bc5
describe
'159885' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEK' 'sip-files00059.jpg'
f5286b01717bb0a1f69b3614b7cec99b
a1d6dcef967c06788d4a8092ef617abaf5ca8109
describe
'2244' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEL' 'sip-files00059.pro'
0e76ac92ce1082ef5da2885d7a1fdca3
265ec82852527447695a170e6f7d2a488925cf06
'2011-11-07T13:08:30-05:00'
describe
'35215' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEM' 'sip-files00059.QC.jpg'
a33f5a6269429814746d17ba71d8605f
328b5630d8ddc228fd3d0f6c54699a0c177fb855
describe
'5425524' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEN' 'sip-files00059.tif'
f697238b24f68351b9967d9d3d576107
1a6c100164757a3afd6e7bfeeaad8b219709eeab
describe
'138' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEO' 'sip-files00059.txt'
b3d1249b27f4b7885a0eae5079f133a5
b75f901e9546543b97a7524eda7c8f4a43b56f32
describe
Invalid character
'7794' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEP' 'sip-files00059thm.jpg'
1ec7e0974a75bda794dc8355c80dff3c
3867bf5427e4da8efe6b2649cc037983cec0f53d
describe
'676720' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEQ' 'sip-files00060.jp2'
a364daa664576361d34939ba459221cd
c2e0e40b1ecf1dde870373c80798b66d4c80012f
describe
'107349' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATER' 'sip-files00060.jpg'
7bd3bb7bdde96073c13c66ce22e55b00
dd11bc321aaa15d94f56dbd529ce94408f55d8bf
'2011-11-07T13:06:52-05:00'
describe
'47418' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATES' 'sip-files00060.pro'
d9debe58ec71a9f79bad5c30229ef707
f29bbeaa73cb1061376a2802f96f2bde6966c04a
describe
'30512' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATET' 'sip-files00060.QC.jpg'
e727e482aca6910676d11c93553db41c
f951e4ce17286ecca8c3fc03eb81436ee6ccffe8
describe
'5426016' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEU' 'sip-files00060.tif'
2bd7fa8e10733e35fe383e45bff42cdb
6bdd404e820d94a25077b4a6786f1ff7cf3dacaf
describe
'2378' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEV' 'sip-files00060.txt'
c48aec5f67d670387664d434da7e6d3b
24e1c681fb18146f6e978d613d293ffcd6e5bec7
describe
'7604' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEW' 'sip-files00060thm.jpg'
210798f2bfdaa69db961468c0173f6f7
e79ef5e9cdbec7ad8f4ae84f1c06b3964e965165
'2011-11-07T13:07:59-05:00'
describe
'676696' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEX' 'sip-files00061.jp2'
d4675808f832a3af96feddc3b62b7f07
f9595f64492754031bdb313584fb420448cf7d20
describe
'103193' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEY' 'sip-files00061.jpg'
47286b98983f53eed027617b3601bfd2
191478e1a16633eac6e68faeba65a7c4b461ceb6
describe
'17066' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATEZ' 'sip-files00061.pro'
7c29938292e965a1382a307a88c09e6e
9338089f48fa36fec9f1cf36e69f1617666398bb
describe
'26364' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFA' 'sip-files00061.QC.jpg'
a89c012e32dd97be853f04d43c8d0261
b9212bb5ecb5c8292af20cf25b6b6a59c8126a95
describe
'5425356' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFB' 'sip-files00061.tif'
577c2c5ccd0cc7a66096316e2304c53f
54190aeff7f1d70b91f343896cf4301d51201b68
describe
'771' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFC' 'sip-files00061.txt'
cb01397d08b20a285e0c3d3f54c96e39
3088b1b98a99243962777e469f8d63d12e235cc1
describe
'6539' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFD' 'sip-files00061thm.jpg'
d69b364a808bd735ae6515d3b84c5243
e4ab2f50c03da7b23172f92daf834dac277b8128
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFE' 'sip-files00062.jp2'
2d11d0482e350b8c7f82f139e15773f8
73c9ca7ad3f2bb0b3c59d80341bd6b7547e9a7e7
describe
'119559' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFF' 'sip-files00062.jpg'
25d140cfe66cbf7dc03b31a152d17aaa
0b687c91edb6c9ef32ca01b8bfa3e9e10dc2ca1f
describe
'54940' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFG' 'sip-files00062.pro'
5922cd2ae96eb60b4271d801101f58cf
53a2b533e794dca83f7658dc3a69cd3639af118a
describe
'34845' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFH' 'sip-files00062.QC.jpg'
0c09f9a6d990b4493c6f8588ce36c75d
68b2ab6f64bffc5c5763223f9a57978ab5ac9a67
describe
'5426612' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFI' 'sip-files00062.tif'
f372f9e8669d860e122dfdeeb43e0370
95ab69a8321e455475f2dd83344d45485b32e6a7
'2011-11-07T13:05:25-05:00'
describe
'2671' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFJ' 'sip-files00062.txt'
2a4543de1f8569558d5fecec84992c46
45419c547306fecbd26adc67aaf43890ff2ced3e
describe
'8711' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFK' 'sip-files00062thm.jpg'
7336cfeb95b39dbf322ddc53a8b53ddc
e8f71327284b85403fdc30fa1c7c03fd36c58e4a
describe
'676612' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFL' 'sip-files00063.jp2'
c0102a2892cca00582eb9cf4f590f0a2
3cd0c8a87d60438f18939eea4a89156eff9ff844
describe
'115375' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFM' 'sip-files00063.jpg'
85db454ab603158c26853def27693a1b
d143095e97f1b95660a8024fd6460fd0d9be5c8e
describe
'10844' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFN' 'sip-files00063.pro'
6b15d7e6ff88ce193b713cb47079f5c6
0a3b8fbaf0c402f3c606c3d91e5b103b1c4f8fda
'2011-11-07T13:07:44-05:00'
describe
'28719' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFO' 'sip-files00063.QC.jpg'
223d5a5ff223283627290dc598799825
c7c4ee75c3790d6fd7cc3ca5f6b7bf9b0f549c80
describe
'5425976' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFP' 'sip-files00063.tif'
a9e298be41e08ad404dce6eaf963b1ff
fe5e08f05a0499b2f03f63df4303f71e2659c3c4
'2011-11-07T13:06:24-05:00'
describe
'455' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFQ' 'sip-files00063.txt'
4470d2373495b7c1323e49c91992b7ed
dff9946316f75a13b8e750b23b9f703dc644c45f
describe
Invalid character
'7418' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFR' 'sip-files00063thm.jpg'
bb8aced89a010afd4b964496a7c5af7c
c7bf1a3cd8a3190e49a0c892f1f0de35884067f9
'2011-11-07T13:08:08-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFS' 'sip-files00064.jp2'
06f28c94260db7a391fb9598f52142c7
483b4880cbc0150e79049863ad790b27c9541e69
describe
'118085' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFT' 'sip-files00064.jpg'
750d120b1e485d13f45f5efaac1a9186
4fd7f3309f29ebea012fd410575b264b8b0a1994
describe
'55840' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFU' 'sip-files00064.pro'
00ffb2164d8789c06f7503fb3aca3917
47ebd471376d2b1e6f39716af1625a2e9cf1023c
describe
'33148' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFV' 'sip-files00064.QC.jpg'
5bcff648fb65be44fdfc6672af74d315
258c7eef177dda350315cbcee6af840b2304cb39
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFW' 'sip-files00064.tif'
6106abe790e551f5125c4a751b48d582
6668b2833dcaf1345cc8e34c56de13be954f1597
describe
'2343' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFX' 'sip-files00064.txt'
a5dd3769d67102c0edf64317488b1978
5f55a846b7ba7f9c82a2979c5488df75ee8fb102
describe
'8010' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFY' 'sip-files00064thm.jpg'
c247bec641fcf50327329886d436d027
61e33777bc4c9177dd4ba8134fd210a57dd612ad
describe
'676703' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATFZ' 'sip-files00065.jp2'
eb269e30761f56dfc67bd7584467e131
0457efc28125cc55a51ed62fa0c1a53d62011e42
describe
'117628' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGA' 'sip-files00065.jpg'
1c94e856fc1d854f486b9dc835e77e83
f1bb98cee73f7912ee9d71656a3084ed18735a07
describe
'39557' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGB' 'sip-files00065.pro'
818c48536e4f673f8cd6ce70d307487b
c30512f0c3219012be7dd31658f06285bad81e5e
describe
'31748' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGC' 'sip-files00065.QC.jpg'
05c549a85e5406c6a00a773729df3fbb
467c03dd8c04466f1e1a2874c23984bbb218f2e4
'2011-11-07T13:08:44-05:00'
describe
'5426228' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGD' 'sip-files00065.tif'
1beb2f5a198ee034a57e5c405bd3d591
72c78f1074c6ecd550c7c251d2d5434b2802bd91
'2011-11-07T13:04:33-05:00'
describe
'2564' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGE' 'sip-files00065.txt'
3cd2bce30af06b35f678f74ceeb4709d
a1c91278c2977864eb308c48fad5d1ff811b108d
describe
'8004' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGF' 'sip-files00065thm.jpg'
10d6e35ec0368c5ce41baaa3ce9deb36
9d69a27560878f88361fbd5dca48342a22c3b34b
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGG' 'sip-files00066.jp2'
a78f80c1b2b234d38aece8d993db4a4e
b755fb68910f5b3721ad3fcedb9dee20bd4ba725
describe
'90861' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGH' 'sip-files00066.jpg'
7c174d5773849a0174eb8e4bf9a9f31e
ea8c8151b44322b0b17f6a420890b319a03bb731
describe
'21762' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGI' 'sip-files00066.pro'
7d07b6d45e4a7aa2b63979b4a508c962
df9be820394da6cfdce2a97f9a4abf148868025b
describe
'22370' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGJ' 'sip-files00066.QC.jpg'
1009907a31c02657c98bfd1434a9bfec
e019d7865afc8728c5026025fdecf8743d067b27
describe
'5424708' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGK' 'sip-files00066.tif'
809e206b2580ee234a4cfe6842c5e429
1e542c97c317d2e05038f9a731a08e1b38d090a9
describe
'977' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGL' 'sip-files00066.txt'
cc65665e060cb09a2a495df771e80f99
dd057d67d3937f4161e2ca07dba61c91c1fbe120
describe
'5444' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGM' 'sip-files00066thm.jpg'
ec90bd5a932c6af589e12dd0e6c045d2
63548218466cf7456ed9cb65c5b944f0d464931d
describe
'507236' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGN' 'sip-files00067.jp2'
eb1b774b27987d6f5c3ab397feb62b12
e1a3463df18b432a015a5c521119da54c54d6e62
describe
'168407' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGO' 'sip-files00067.jpg'
ea2e5686419639964a48b601784839b0
109723d4a758f8ff32ad196c2264ddd181d5c89c
'2011-11-07T13:06:29-05:00'
describe
'2067' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGP' 'sip-files00067.pro'
d03283b348bcabce744e3d8b835177e6
2590e5bd3ce8efa1571967f65fdc93cdea03ae10
describe
'38463' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGQ' 'sip-files00067.QC.jpg'
fb88cc84928b613326ebcd92e3098898
4afdee21fd69d2e3858c503af8381e56f08589eb
describe
'12185956' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGR' 'sip-files00067.tif'
4dcd523865f1c13c6f02e13bc2ac726c
91c579caa0ca828532822968a6e7420c9c0434c1
'2011-11-07T13:07:16-05:00'
describe
'119' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGS' 'sip-files00067.txt'
35f8be5eb1163f6044f9456f72a22561
394f4c24e2366cdad1f6a7e64724b814f2d71827
describe
Invalid character
'9319' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGT' 'sip-files00067thm.jpg'
8da69723eddd2335102bd8a36df08ae4
d95ef470d4882419b86b17aeb0e4e30c4132c41d
describe
'676610' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGU' 'sip-files00069.jp2'
5cc6b7f0acdf3b17d144edb5227556b0
94e937ecc16916c8fed8546751819b57ceef6fd3
'2011-11-07T13:06:54-05:00'
describe
'116549' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGV' 'sip-files00069.jpg'
edfb65d1a11962de6d4697d92acc9a43
7b9acc86a83cdb51c61dd568bce391b93f992a6a
describe
'42357' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGW' 'sip-files00069.pro'
a56e53a5c4be69c54947fa854a0bcb3f
e647fb7d32fe09539a6fa1aaf33718ed8e9540b9
describe
'32178' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGX' 'sip-files00069.QC.jpg'
799736de4eedf88169abc216f8c27cd5
67ffa3014e911db2b9fed2e985ab57f6f205f760
describe
'5426240' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGY' 'sip-files00069.tif'
2ecc47a4a025ade7d8184a4986ee5da4
25226c4a9400a400bd23a423c75a5a720b3a2ca9
'2011-11-07T13:07:45-05:00'
describe
'1892' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATGZ' 'sip-files00069.txt'
ab32efbe437d7b40c79c9555dfbf557a
dfcb8f79d0619d7c39050d5a5ef7cbd8c97c7a9a
'2011-11-07T13:05:04-05:00'
describe
'7834' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHA' 'sip-files00069thm.jpg'
4f655336b673c9bf47cf6c523a742965
11566b37cc13bc65a77c86eb1defa3c7046e60b7
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHB' 'sip-files00070.jp2'
c736be49c55bf0c120dfa913ad4dacd8
6008f75af9d4b4a4a07fe732d9384a6c8d438141
describe
'121906' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHC' 'sip-files00070.jpg'
80248d2f9c6e7b6295b7985e78e4938a
c7aa0035ba3dfbda5593c7215bd75b025dfbd61c
describe
'50428' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHD' 'sip-files00070.pro'
f676d4bf7efa5a9bb1841e24e469e829
a44ecee08eea8a0ec15535ae1743a66ad7fe7aca
describe
'33238' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHE' 'sip-files00070.QC.jpg'
0d84f8b6480cf5ac235c86e1145eb93a
c0505f9de787158b5a0343e375288e2d091cb4fb
describe
'5426284' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHF' 'sip-files00070.tif'
4d1e5fd68aea87a51742da3a7af5b1f8
5bb3d4064153a5b8cc045996b64a1b18decc33dc
'2011-11-07T13:04:44-05:00'
describe
'2582' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHG' 'sip-files00070.txt'
0ed1e4e85a3d4171145d4bd04025731e
61362f4dc988250634e53fc9cbef0736340ce969
describe
'8041' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHH' 'sip-files00070thm.jpg'
df752b660014ebb23ed6314198efde59
c68188d2f9f0f071281eb2f12f313be7f3a0219a
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHI' 'sip-files00071.jp2'
c1f4b3a9e3e2c49e784d19b8984463cd
8607b427e30da186425b831a85658276e1e50bbb
'2011-11-07T13:05:08-05:00'
describe
'125711' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHJ' 'sip-files00071.jpg'
bdc11c24aed5efd84c92716c929be01d
d3a1adc31b9983c164341892053157bc37d15fb6
describe
'35173' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHK' 'sip-files00071.pro'
17f8fb8e8fa8058efcbe15001f89c5bc
024d4f8a2ce8fee818bb51dc4620f9b88e1b1db9
describe
'33184' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHL' 'sip-files00071.QC.jpg'
50403c818d517b4f082fb32817ea9a21
46d5fa1b3b6fd1c85dbe1c7292779ceb6975b2b9
'2011-11-07T13:04:25-05:00'
describe
'5426216' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHM' 'sip-files00071.tif'
bd96e4a8bd684c3a74d15adedc962d0e
4bae0fc1a675035d71dc99ebed0c65256209b91d
describe
'1544' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHN' 'sip-files00071.txt'
94e3170eded3c7e9035d0858b8a3a42e
7fe9939359bda3a484588377e6227b4425e1f752
describe
'7744' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHO' 'sip-files00071thm.jpg'
dedb5bb4dad16b28218f772a387c7c45
62463a7fb672bb6b0b3375497983b5a75d2ce285
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHP' 'sip-files00072.jp2'
45e608440d08f941bf28faf687ed53e7
b0355f671e4c941d1a1bda531a4e7019d895985a
'2011-11-07T13:06:08-05:00'
describe
'123231' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHQ' 'sip-files00072.jpg'
9d6d2c67c976bf83895b9dcfe447c3e7
6dc0559cc6dc07e5591d58ab8e536b99d1e55146
describe
'62574' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHR' 'sip-files00072.pro'
285ffd15c620d69d421e5867c8a74769
ae1edf4fb2316bc76a9946c3093052fa47eb5cb0
describe
'35055' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHS' 'sip-files00072.QC.jpg'
0d039c6f9fe9ace33f95364cddd5b7f6
9e86e89bf387ab5b7fbfa1a98cb40e6fd59d6608
'2011-11-07T13:07:20-05:00'
describe
'5426452' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHT' 'sip-files00072.tif'
8518dad6f21b6ac898a5c32c59833cb7
b9f79710768fd59318d35c0ca5e0b68a7ab6a3af
describe
'2636' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHU' 'sip-files00072.txt'
2b1f2db15546824aa86a1085cfad98b1
d59d82478b6626a8ecfe94bdbc88cd65e169b040
describe
'8396' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHV' 'sip-files00072thm.jpg'
7c5c1c9d7fdae7cd713fb537033c9241
4210416ca0e23b93590a77e08959053583bb782f
describe
'676728' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHW' 'sip-files00073.jp2'
4f5780aff64c2222aba9ba71e568ce95
ffc83f8d0475026811c6f2f0f97be1843ed9b6a0
describe
'130004' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHX' 'sip-files00073.jpg'
224803e82f025fc4efd05f03ede6a67c
71ebde484c80d93f4c4ed70b99353ef9f8d8bcee
describe
'51103' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHY' 'sip-files00073.pro'
2d3c076b738e0676b95e0616ce89af65
d62703419c729d1324e8bf42d7457f093b06b130
describe
'36140' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATHZ' 'sip-files00073.QC.jpg'
7ebb4d5e8005b87c5dd720a26b7ac7f9
bba3cd54d215331a78899e36026f2a1d0a5c7031
describe
'5426708' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIA' 'sip-files00073.tif'
2c29df0423f1612da65e102e4bc4f017
58447e437b8434a67b86106fe5ebdeae2d2e4770
'2011-11-07T13:08:43-05:00'
describe
'2895' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIB' 'sip-files00073.txt'
fa4e8ac250493fa9052de12ed59d2587
62bec6162e5897a6901b63231b1b59bea80e010f
describe
Invalid character
'8686' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIC' 'sip-files00073thm.jpg'
2c83aef6d86b7880272dd0db2dceee7f
cfe8b36de01f886971e840e1226aa63340cb8f66
describe
'676685' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATID' 'sip-files00074.jp2'
6ac8932ca714c7973a30f4f11109d05d
1aec15ea831e6fbb499d2d03340cd2ca7533b766
describe
'145848' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIE' 'sip-files00074.jpg'
bdf61ff9633c424752ba5568a46aece8
f2721054ab0c61d33cffedf422548f2195672d46
describe
'73074' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIF' 'sip-files00074.pro'
683cbace68aa42339b5f78698eea7494
a598dfe6faa606fa45dbce30578516adfc37cc43
describe
'41789' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIG' 'sip-files00074.QC.jpg'
bfdbc3dae1048fceb4ab0b1b040e9ec3
fe597a57dddd5d570c898815f4c062c079994043
describe
'5427072' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIH' 'sip-files00074.tif'
f5fdb9b61b87bc6ee8ba17312fee354b
ff28f957a64f40592ade77291a9d804fccd9b8fd
'2011-11-07T13:06:47-05:00'
describe
'2883' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATII' 'sip-files00074.txt'
9ffec4964b88367511e4f866940516ed
2bfaebf39aa32ac24a9efb3bba860cc45b303ea8
describe
'9477' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIJ' 'sip-files00074thm.jpg'
a4cebc514c69f4b0be9474e1faa6af7b
e6f4ddb1fced9a7d19975096e3dc27844f94663d
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIK' 'sip-files00075.jp2'
811beeb19e2cd57a62bda80ffe66005c
64f21d64447e4d1f61bf564f1416add491b73eb4
describe
'122074' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIL' 'sip-files00075.jpg'
412709746c108fd52a97a674c0bb2e1b
5d42a53e7de483c8637ac36698cafa5cbbe0d2f2
describe
'16145' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIM' 'sip-files00075.pro'
6ee930cc067506c01633c2ca056573be
033f51d85da0912c11c3e09b90409600e5881ee9
describe
'30100' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIN' 'sip-files00075.QC.jpg'
ad59d51c5fd36003f27159bfa8008da2
c32c7b4e2dee87bd3708d0f326f54275c62ff3da
describe
'5425832' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIO' 'sip-files00075.tif'
8e552789ee77734dd99e7bb6f63772b9
d720e9080ff8c29df42e4e1593d17f804e73b2a0
describe
'722' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIP' 'sip-files00075.txt'
98cfc7970edd29df636b8c8f9576535e
2535e3bfc1c16e7ed9049e03739cc011e1a10f50
describe
'7445' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIQ' 'sip-files00075thm.jpg'
a1464ac434c5e0f9910e1ac7d780500f
2b67bc840f2c5e9a5fd7fb7e604d1c1d920d32cc
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIR' 'sip-files00076.jp2'
bf60f1010503c94617cfc5ffe2543ed5
c998812ea38c24a95726b9fe78f02f11c7502d58
'2011-11-07T13:06:33-05:00'
describe
'129987' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIS' 'sip-files00076.jpg'
7d2a496e185a79ac970f961f85f00679
d24aff6529ea2d096512767760decd81aa0ea4b8
describe
'60787' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIT' 'sip-files00076.pro'
aaf221063b05e962f999a7e2b10f71ef
b4c07b4a94b75f5a91f4e3744a43601b8c5fc4fa
describe
'37445' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIU' 'sip-files00076.QC.jpg'
8ef4609ac9dba057fee6579bdaada13f
ceb32fc8508201d818cb60e46d38c26e320fb4ac
describe
'5426596' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIV' 'sip-files00076.tif'
8573bce575c17c9bba6cdd08eb20cf6d
cbfb3d4d2d8d0afbe4a163740737a3ba4c0f54fd
describe
'2869' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIW' 'sip-files00076.txt'
186fadea888bbe9ddea50025e139d0bf
30d04464bd53f73b3c94675a94386b4d690ff5a2
describe
'8823' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIX' 'sip-files00076thm.jpg'
df04a46096cb52849ba6edf6c6c973e0
5ccedbf6818ba2308369c6b357ec4c6bb2536f86
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIY' 'sip-files00077.jp2'
c2962b078f07c1001be5d4f6061c2fc9
48aefae55d27a4017fd8aacf9388f99adb6c3a90
describe
'88961' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATIZ' 'sip-files00077.jpg'
94f468dab3a298b2ec1fc2b198830330
0f004a87035e78cfac1d1000d9573283311aa2c2
describe
'40518' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJA' 'sip-files00077.pro'
fce74d208f7c6f25d0d0a60ac6fb23b9
e61f77386471faaec1c1925f3f77666d2b535e35
describe
'25462' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJB' 'sip-files00077.QC.jpg'
a1cc08945a672efce749a6c0c6c454ba
c6fa47ab63a8bd59f737b6b84729eaade4f7acf5
describe
'5425460' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJC' 'sip-files00077.tif'
1e16fcaae3dae8b43e42668b046e6ed7
bf8cd15691ed0457f998abbc655567bc3b107b32
describe
'2268' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJD' 'sip-files00077.txt'
597ffc213af9965ec2841210c872b9a0
41f5fadb61df47edc1f40623b96a8fc8d5f0c36f
describe
'6578' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJE' 'sip-files00077thm.jpg'
3ef72e1a3ab6bc74a5442d06913ed8b2
c8de7c71faf87a37889d55c8ec1705df00eb7797
'2011-11-07T13:06:44-05:00'
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJF' 'sip-files00078.jp2'
29ab76a5b1917798457553321d064f00
3e1e8031bad963841b87cf0efd94d83ffd94adcd
describe
'99685' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJG' 'sip-files00078.jpg'
5fcdd59bd58a1da4480ed1d696d0fc1b
e089308d2590ae59f2786b704cf8dc56a7b73bff
describe
'19391' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJH' 'sip-files00078.pro'
8733eed05ab2cbee4623776d7f05bd1d
2bf9c1254f198e6b58a537cb9d5a096e19122f4b
describe
'26367' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJI' 'sip-files00078.QC.jpg'
817c002720cf1c120ffe80b41044f662
bbc68780c2335bd5845be8ec5503771782481001
'2011-11-07T13:06:37-05:00'
describe
'5425596' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJJ' 'sip-files00078.tif'
b133759dcef6d1fe8bcc484c50b2e4c9
5acbf28cd6457ad9a2f1b459243b49665894d716
describe
'822' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJK' 'sip-files00078.txt'
186b533d07a1131a18ab11cc09bb69e3
6896dd35d7c7b71789c6204c484357a6495183dc
'2011-11-07T13:06:28-05:00'
describe
Invalid character
'6608' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJL' 'sip-files00078thm.jpg'
19ff0d3317a3c33e9bdec3405c658a6e
ab03e49be81c1117b85c4d227575b832ca1a091c
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJM' 'sip-files00079.jp2'
43c4b3da9fd53b175c3aabfb8bea2ca2
20d286f043927516e667c108b5e9f402bb36dc79
describe
'128583' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJN' 'sip-files00079.jpg'
2acb09a17b230623b9d6c108b8dd3424
c0c252ed3783f4255573c627cbe3629c043b0a00
describe
'66143' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJO' 'sip-files00079.pro'
d61e2d90f9e315c57494b04261481fd6
11268561764bba89b01ab1948e5a7f2328fe91a1
describe
'36793' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJP' 'sip-files00079.QC.jpg'
a7d430201d4700a290861373083de502
a1f2d70ece949d6152e871728f9bee35a14d847b
describe
'5426568' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJQ' 'sip-files00079.tif'
a855c7d76a8d68b62c18df6ba1823121
c2000bfc4b2f6bd40d36d1e85a0c15b7e580dd18
describe
'2645' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJR' 'sip-files00079.txt'
5c81dcfaa6a55d90daee6fa661911b22
a16f0c7e6d1ee57201734695e564d0190ed6e554
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJS' 'sip-files00079thm.jpg'
a1b85114a12c9a93ee2a8ea913820203
49b6f790a20c1c9a031d47e0ea4e03471dc43f5e
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJT' 'sip-files00080.jp2'
9716b237555f3e04335f74aff8672439
2f6f67b422f40e0d4a91c02ba38bb4dde11f158b
describe
'151011' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJU' 'sip-files00080.jpg'
42c6b2b6147c1e56dc9dd36982bed0d9
aa4ec90a2a4c23eb46ca9f9e5f229bde1f05f7d9
describe
'64583' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJV' 'sip-files00080.pro'
67293408c24b1edef76364d9a583a1b8
fde42b3c87d86b1507c6e9f87d63ed488a856b0e
describe
'41117' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJW' 'sip-files00080.QC.jpg'
e2b2a771ed084571871bb0baaa01cab9
789a08ddd95bb78da82bc5d0d0030ad6a8e4fa76
describe
'2617' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJX' 'sip-files00080.txt'
051c606ffec81fda575ba2d6e830ca55
80850bb94ef4a6682400ff26c41c52bddffb7d85
describe
'9737' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJY' 'sip-files00080thm.jpg'
60c2e40cea4559fef4e50f3d84accba3
df9100283b508be0507589d06eca9e9fdd9f370a
describe
'723176' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATJZ' 'sip-files00081.jp2'
d2bb2d01b460ab625523952b1889fa23
4dcc670033fccdd0df05d7f105d9b634c7b9f923
describe
'108938' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKA' 'sip-files00081.jpg'
660f08c7ad515f12c5622fc49fc674f2
c5bbbb76d0b8f4c59e0b963763d3068af16764c9
'2011-11-07T13:08:40-05:00'
describe
'2734' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKB' 'sip-files00081.pro'
f37d27fec3d7da2be1e1d0391534de19
2052a3ee55e7d23662b40894cfec18afd2b29aed
describe
'24630' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKC' 'sip-files00081.QC.jpg'
2c686efe917f1538cfe973631a638322
be481544bf6d9479438649d4f18950c7c24ff663
describe
'17366316' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKD' 'sip-files00081.tif'
5eb3df89410179e8da4f202ca0152347
850fe99500928e887f8ebc612efe3ecd3b37db67
describe
'219' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKE' 'sip-files00081.txt'
631f35503e5c8135624bef6974bf2bf0
bad1b363d751db3de91aa1e497e8bccb75e20ebb
describe
Invalid character
'6531' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKF' 'sip-files00081thm.jpg'
3a8501bf206461fd96030aa59ec16091
74fde9c40196634bb9874cee4f7f600f06937411
describe
'676723' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKG' 'sip-files00083.jp2'
03ff6e66f42d613725f9a359fe0111b5
cce880a4f271fff13a9692208e2bb212664947b2
describe
'128279' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKH' 'sip-files00083.jpg'
2df617194332653aff0af37cb6ce9ca7
61dd9d403888ae05ebb302d53c05418cf0278417
describe
'46510' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKI' 'sip-files00083.pro'
f3dbe82172c8fbed51ff0d1a9e2686dc
8e3193b2dc2d3d20830d156beaf111ef0fd436b3
describe
'36730' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKJ' 'sip-files00083.QC.jpg'
35f42d25f775a01cfa972bad3b04e907
0453013c00954caf0d597b92378260c8b5cab1ec
describe
'5427008' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKK' 'sip-files00083.tif'
543c0d6ffab13c4ee9cbc36b1fc1a874
e96dc8e192ab15de0141664365d917fb0a8e89ca
describe
'2836' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKL' 'sip-files00083.txt'
081911a998f20bd3b956a2e8c1d73e78
aad228860cf0d275b52ed09bed4e0ac2b6ee9129
describe
'8910' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKM' 'sip-files00083thm.jpg'
dae57488ae566bdd429ee59055c4a522
f15b9904be7c4ffd03f24399e0bd9f2a511043c8
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKN' 'sip-files00084.jp2'
885cd0c4f45cd1d09c4f94f12cdbde05
7829732d875541763635b6c204a63fdc7b8a3c1e
describe
'105392' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKO' 'sip-files00084.jpg'
6e97bde3a73015c9f74c92d328358da2
5331158d9b9a9b63393fde0fcbbc723278e155c5
describe
'44104' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKP' 'sip-files00084.pro'
c5405fd3ae657cbff5226c640c2a8575
95d6a02717514ee1b674ebfbfe556cb4feee2410
describe
'30761' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKQ' 'sip-files00084.QC.jpg'
22587061c0512d6bf07eb0885cb95c5f
88ef793cb19d665ded5f1b0170ae4d08f5b1be7e
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKR' 'sip-files00084.tif'
943f7d4843b25d879b3c614d90aaaafa
efce56a977bf1a7dede008554f33af99cf7b238f
describe
'1906' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKS' 'sip-files00084.txt'
dacd01cf61c502bd914a8edf45743789
c5bef000ba3791a517e5bc7f7237bc6d5e1425cd
'2011-11-07T13:08:00-05:00'
describe
'7819' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKT' 'sip-files00084thm.jpg'
9d6b96a03803c60a0d71254ed95ab443
60bf714387bb6d07291a51941a16fb055fc13007
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKU' 'sip-files00085.jp2'
341374c98ce93741f505ae3126797604
021411f270d0cdecfb992021426af8fd60521d2f
describe
'107031' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKV' 'sip-files00085.jpg'
982772aaa805e817e8a6a842c661037c
4d5c9fcc045f2e191724bbe5a37a2adf4c0203b1
describe
'42945' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKW' 'sip-files00085.pro'
6326101c650f0505975c0f3f70c60ec2
d8c3caabea1d1119f8b0a130f46def9bd8f04380
describe
'31305' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKX' 'sip-files00085.QC.jpg'
30561fa03f84b8e8f0871f547115fd5a
97de498da8d0759a22a2acb2de2a354791a89a89
describe
'5426204' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKY' 'sip-files00085.tif'
d2705bec07f2f35e248ac310f6943c6e
c5252e3dea7ba0845ed35d368c25c04bf8056825
'2011-11-07T13:07:56-05:00'
describe
'2901' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATKZ' 'sip-files00085.txt'
1b735fa81bbdd018e269e71c67d57307
f6896d4181e5a5d09a9470d1931d11a4f2527841
describe
'7820' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLA' 'sip-files00085thm.jpg'
3c8c8b9fae3939af64b6cfaa0a7f12f3
2b207cb9be79f7564d0de3080d6761c5cc658441
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLB' 'sip-files00086.jp2'
33aceba14eb22d3e46e4ccaae9df6ac0
16e9950474bc256e2c0802369f22f7fef01b4312
describe
'72501' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLC' 'sip-files00086.jpg'
e99a144e76afc1907befd97bee1a27c0
5aa4e6dd68d0c12c6cab29de5e4e52e62a96ead4
'2011-11-07T13:04:18-05:00'
describe
'27932' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLD' 'sip-files00086.pro'
5c83c166a6a635aa85a062db930ab88c
bcda2eb9948dd20e1e5014c68b7cf539d22afef5
describe
'20972' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLE' 'sip-files00086.QC.jpg'
37f3e06695220543817f76139138e0aa
858e358ba1e592db6baa13bbe6ed1464a5897057
describe
'5424892' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLF' 'sip-files00086.tif'
0d87d5232fc2312df6d6e833cf5bbe3f
6e18139052982a6b0ebcc5f19bb700b03dbbfb9f
describe
'1183' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLG' 'sip-files00086.txt'
fc0a5561f3c72346a887a90c957a3669
e1809064ff4ccb5096a15f54be68539a8b14e20d
describe
'5524' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLH' 'sip-files00086thm.jpg'
44bb0684a1f2ba3748801235b5bed26c
212e40be93fe12cf36ef834898e2ef0ff729500a
describe
'676644' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLI' 'sip-files00087.jp2'
7c3f1c5acdddb5be5db40aa9d1167bb8
519ed274353619a17d5a169462e2c7f3afc3ceaf
describe
'104986' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLJ' 'sip-files00087.jpg'
27bffa41dc9884b008fa03dcc6c9916a
710175b3bab3f7a12b22a3efabbb09a7a153c8b4
describe
'10114' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLK' 'sip-files00087.pro'
62cddf380a51d2a44ab499e860cce615
b13a7abb82a774509f245e4e36a161f34aa5cb7c
describe
'25534' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLL' 'sip-files00087.QC.jpg'
f19e89d32bd76c03cce3921d7e774cf7
280fd8a96d9f13e07c48c6989f3978577eb07227
describe
'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLM' 'sip-files00087.tif'
4b028b13c90c3e0eea2533080edfd48b
5ae7b5bfbbc7b3b2d3459ee4d82512945ae3f445
describe
'492' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLN' 'sip-files00087.txt'
314f693ac6256e7cd7b3e1f605531c96
2ff6d7755eaae21fa68b2d6d28d3c7e7b955262c
describe
'6592' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLO' 'sip-files00087thm.jpg'
251bf9a9fdbf15e34882c7805173b61c
7b358c55786c2a9c2f0c2d21e0e0665320cb8c0c
describe
'676725' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLP' 'sip-files00088.jp2'
452983977e9f83188edead9ebe26413a
f7bbff77fd005e40f1565d10feaa83ca9fd76bb9
describe
'102350' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLQ' 'sip-files00088.jpg'
bf4c2d82e2b2a0c588a80cb2923c3f8e
81ae9ce90489034112d03ecde29e23e8add0ce36
describe
'37665' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLR' 'sip-files00088.pro'
e4686e7fb5efc15f80da6d72cd894d3e
7fe0ff9168f48a6e58257c5eb39188c6de590c65
describe
'29040' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLS' 'sip-files00088.QC.jpg'
5430969ba0e886b938cad5b5ba15ab07
a8e1cca811efb2f802b27594ade45bcbc98f369d
describe
'5425592' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLT' 'sip-files00088.tif'
629d23b23ccb59fb223845a9529efca5
46f1f437d0d697b4bfc13fbbb856d431bcc73dca
'2011-11-07T13:07:39-05:00'
describe
'2062' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLU' 'sip-files00088.txt'
9291184789699aec56d7af441b15ec2d
5c59b0331a303b5093d677bd937272c314d8d590
describe
'6899' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLV' 'sip-files00088thm.jpg'
f5765b1c3aacdcedd16330420fde4c59
9d67562bb2711c7fafadd1db3e93c0ad77f15766
'2011-11-07T13:04:50-05:00'
describe
'749924' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLW' 'sip-files00089.jp2'
659d09702b37e72978ea13ab4f8da224
af4a1ada89b27417e55efa6ee9d91a7bd6a03f79
'2011-11-07T13:08:24-05:00'
describe
'94440' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLX' 'sip-files00089.jpg'
2eb97a4632d2899d54841a2ef7d99099
af50b383bf9729aa5533ab26a78c3dc0bc8ce32a
describe
'19993' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLY' 'sip-files00089.QC.jpg'
0a7dcbeab8beab5aaddee0a177f2816d
1560ec8960ecadb2bbf43764057544f3e7c54de6
describe
'18016928' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATLZ' 'sip-files00089.tif'
7ae740efa7b0b48024fde81e7f2ef563
6ffdc0e5a769c653f8fd2c9a1639c954f2101262
'2011-11-07T13:04:31-05:00'
describe
'4633' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATMA' 'sip-files00089thm.jpg'
266832aefc975f460b20024a2a032f47
d196017f7ff62d06eab82de1e4d7443644f1caab
describe
'32' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATMB' 'sip-filesprocessing.instr'
b3637e27cc85007c60b4fe0540c8037d
f48e5dee62514bca2eede5b55ae85225bfaa5e00
describe
'143999' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATMC' 'sip-filesUF00083797_00001.mets'
729ae2b10237c345448f6b621b34696b
10e3a20cd53828c714064c9d6dd9bc3e4c4c9ccf
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/'.
'2013-12-16T15:49:36-05:00' '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/'.
'5427092' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATMF' 'sip-files00080.tif'
914bf88e155841d34752ea0eae6fafab
a261600aebae7dd1ae157857757dbfad8fe5494c
describe
'183007' 'info:fdaE20080808_AAAAEGfileF20080808_AAATMG' 'sip-filesUF00083797_00001.xml'
f92b2ddc54e992cb681b54b2e976df91
86c7bf96cb849c794c3c3831902f4339e6322281
describe
'2013-12-16T15:49:37-05:00'
xml resolution



it

win Library
ile
B of
Florida

Ui

a
a
2
&






Holidays.

ALKS and talks when the songbirds sing,
Carols to tell of coming Spring.
Summer Holidays, gladsome days
Spent in the golden sunshine rays.
Autumn hours, when the leaves of brown
From bough and branch come rustling down.
' Fireside holidays, when the rain
Patters and beats at the window pane.
Laugh, my little folks, laugh and sing,
Whatever the changing seasons bring;
Summer or winter, rain or sun,
They're Happy Holidays everyone.
Clifton Bingham.





@





eal Volume of Pictures a

and Oteries ,
Iffustrated by :
Parrett (2 Dennett. D'S Seymour Lucas,
Re lene Daguire i Go






— “Written by
FE Weatherly
Geraldine RN. Glasgow
Olive Dolesworth,
(aggre Brown.

CL TNES OIG Ge,

London: ‘ New York:
€.P Dutton &C?

Ernest Nister Printed in Bavaria.
Introduction,

T was very dull. Dorothy went and looked
ft out of window, but that only made her
feel more miserable still, for the rain-
drops were streaming down the panes of glass
so thick and fast she could hardly see out,
and what there was to see was all blurred
and wretched—people hurrying under dripping
umbrellas; mud, fog, and gas lamps mistily
shining. Dorothy crept back to the fire, and
crouched down by the fender, and wished
Martha would come and light the lamp.

But Martha didn’t come. She was upstairs,
helping Mother with Baby, for Baby was very
ill. Dorothy was very sorry Baby was ill, but
then it was rather aggravating his getting
bronchitis, just in the Christmas’ holidays too,
and when Father had been called away suddenlv
on business abroad. Poor Dorothy felt herself rather injured.

It grew darker, and darker! Now all the room was in shadow save for the fire-
light, glancing here and there on the polished furniture. Outside it was quite, quite
night, and the rain poured down steadily. Dorothy could hear it trickle, trickle down
the pipe somewhere. It seemed to make her feel more miserable still.

Who was that ringing? Yes, it was the front bell. There it came again—and
again. Martha must be deaf not to hear it. Dorothy ran out into the hall and
listened. No, there was no one in the kitchen. Martha must be upstairs with Mother
and poor Baby, and Cook must be out. Oh! there it was again—“ring! ring! ring!”
Perhaps she had better open the door and see who it was?

It was rather an undertaking, that of opening the front door. Dorothy had to
stand on tip-toe to’reach the latch, and before it was undone she was rather out of
breath. But at last she managed it, and there, on the step, stood a boy, in a shiny
mackintosh cape, streaming with wet, and with a parcel in his hand.

“Please,” he said, in a squeaky voice, “does a little girl named Dorothy live here ?”


“Yes,” said Dorothy, “that’s me. I live here.”

“Oh! that’s all right,’ he said, in a tone of relief, “Here’s a parcel for you.”

“A parcel,” gasped Dorothy; “a parcel—for me? I—I—think it must be a
mistake. .Where does it come from?”

“Oh! it isn't a mistake,” said the boy, nodding. “It is allright. It’s from the
Story Shop, and it’s got your name wrote outside. Here it is,’ and he pushed a
Square packet into Dorothy’s arms, and then ran down the steps, whistling.

Dorothy stood a minute quite stiff with surprise. Then as the rain came beating
in at the door, she thought she had better shut it. Then she looked at her parcel.
It had her name outside in large letters—she could read it quite easily. It was a
brown-paper parcel, it was rather wet, and it felt hard. Perhaps she might as well
look inside.

Dorothy went slowly into the dining-room. The lamp wasn’t lighted yet, but
the fire had blazed up and made a beautiful bright light. She. sat down on the
hearthrug, and untied her parcel.

Inside was a nice interesting-looking book, with a picture on the cover. Dorothy
gave a cry of joy. “Oh, what a lovely book!” she said aloud, though she was all
alone; “and what a lot of
beautiful stories—‘The Golden
Rule,’ ‘Fruit and Flowers,’ ‘Remi-
niscences of a Doll,’ ‘Multipli-
cation is Vexation.’ Ah! what
happy holidays I shall have
after all, with this book to read.”

Dorothy settled herself more
comfortably on the hearth-rug.
She began to read the first story,
and in two minutes had forgotten
the rain, the bronchitisy Baby,
the dulness, and the neglect of
Martha.

She was far, far away in
Storyland and the land where
all the well-known figures in
Nursery Rhymes live, where all
good boys and girls love to
be, where it is always warm,
always beautiful, and never—no,
never dull!




her.

ttle Mot

i

L
Tiiffle. {Mother

I you please I’m little mother.
I've a family of ten;
There’s three dollies, and a puppy,
And five chickens, and a: hen.

Every morn I feed my chickies;
Wash and dress my dollies three;
Take my puppy for a scamper—
So I’m quite a busy bee.



If I didn’t love them dearly—
Hen and chicks and dollies too—
I should think it dreadful trouble,
But I love them all—I do.
Clifton Bingham.

©) sf
pe Se, fl Rairy Flower Cledding.
HIE Blue-bells are ringing the wedding chimes.

Through the woods the guests are pouring, to the fairy wishing-well.

For a wood-fairy is going to marry a flower-fairy. And slow -
old snails hurried along, leaving a silver path for the bride to traverse ;
while glow-worms took up their stations, at irregular intervals, to light
the happy couple on their way; and bats spread out their wings, and made a canopy
for the invited guests; and fire-flies flew here and there, gleaming with a thousand
coloured lights.

The guests streamed in, and took their places, round the old moss-covered well
in the wood. The “Buttercup” sat next to the stately “Ladyfern,” whilst dainty
“Sheep-parsley” gossiped with ‘“Harts’-tongues,” and “Heather” and “Ragged-Robin”
sat in the porch with the white “Star of Bethlehem,” and the “Pimpernelle” seated
herself on the “Goose-grass,” and the “Daisy” and the “Cuckoo-flower’ stood hand-

in-hand, behind the wild red “Sorrel.”
Hark! a burst of fairy music, and the tall Field-grasses wave their green banners,

cy
,
‘



and the “Dog Violets” bark for joy,
and chase the pale “Primroses” to the
edge of the fountain.

The “Blue-bells” and the “Hare-
bells” ring merrily, and form up into
two long lines, through which the
bride and bridegroom pass, and the
“Lords and Ladies’ follow in the
procession. And the bride steps fear-
lessly with her lord, looking proudly
in his handsome face, smiling brightly
on all around her, while he doffs his
“Acorn” helmet, and bows graciously
right .and left.

He is the chief of the fairies who
guard forest and fruit trees. His face
is bronzed and sun-burnt, like a “Beech” .
nut, his dreamy eyes are as black as “Sloes,” and-his lips as red as “Cherries.”
His long scarlet stockings are woven from the skin of “Hawthorn” berries, his doublet
and hose are made of “Copper Beech’’-leaves, slashed with crimson “Bramble,” his
sharp pointed sword is “Pine-needle,’ and in his long tanned “Fungus’-leather boots,
“Knight-spurs” jingle.

But now all eyes are turned to the bride.

“Wild roses” nestle in her. cheeks, the white “Hawthorn-blossom” is on her

breast and arms, sweet “Violets” shine in her eyes, and “Honey-suckle” clusters and. :
twines in her golden hair, all shining and glistening like straw.
; Her blushing face is half hidden by the dainty veil of “Ladies’ Lace,” and her
dress sparkles with the colours of the rainbow, woven into gossamer spiders’ web,
draped with gauze wings. The ‘“TFox-gloves’ have sent her the mittens. And the
bride and bridegroom kneel down together, and the setting sun and the rising moon
marry them—-henceforth they are one. :

Where the forest trees grow, there the wild flowers are loveliest, and wood and
field and meadow are never separated from them, and they kiss each other, and swear
to be faithful and true. :

All the flowers and trees crowd round them, and wish them joy and happiness ;
and two little blue flowers go before, crying, “Speed well” and ‘Forget-us-not.”

The fairy wedding is over, and the birds are singing, and the fountain is bubbling,
and the wood is full of beautiful flowers, and each one has a story to tell you.
Foan H. Becker.


Home.




\\ HEN I'm big, I'll be a sailor,

) Sailing o’er the ocean free,

y Seeing all the wondrous countries .
Far across the bright blue sea!

But however far I wander,
And wherever I may roam,
Pll remember Mother always—
For where Mother is, is Home!
C. B.

The Swallows’ fest.

. T was Spring-time, and little Alice had been out into the garden to
“see if she could find a few violets» for Father's buttonhole.

She had picked quite a large bunch of them, and came dancing
into the house again, her cheeks aglow and her eyes sparkling. “Oh,
Mother,” she cried, “the swallows are coming back—come and look. I
know they are our swallows, for they are wheeling round and round the
pond just like they did last year. Do you think any of them will build
their nest under my window again ?”

“T can't say, my dear,” said Mother, “but I think it is very likely.
Is the old nest there still ?”

a “No, Mother. Don't you remember it was blown away in the great

storm, just before Christmas ?”

Very soon Alice's doubts were set at rest, for a pair of pretty little swallows:
after circling round the house for some time, evidently intent upon choosing a cosy
corner in which to.build, settled on Alice’s window-sill, and shortly afterwards began
making a neat little home for themselves, out of mud, hay, and wool. The hay and
the wool were used to line the nest, and to keep snug and warm the five pretty
eggs which Mrs. Swallow placed there.

By-and-by the eggs cracked, and out came five wee heads, and five pairs of bright
black eyes gazed enquiringly into Alice’s face, as she leant from her window to watch
them. What a comfortable home the mud nest was, and what a happy family were ©





the swallows! They thought themselves quite safe in their nest under the roof, but
alas, poor birdies! there was a terrible misfortune in store for them. One day two
boys were coming along the lane which ran past the back of Alice’s home, and spied
the nest. They saw the old birds fly out to fetch food, and guessed there were young -
birds in the nest. :

From that moment they made up their minds to steal the nestlings if they possibly
could. Of course, they could not reach the nest, but they climbed the garden wall and,
with a long pole, managed to knock down the poor swallows’ pretty home.

The parent birds were away, but the nestlings in their fright made such a
screaming and a squeaking, that Cook came running out to see what was the matter.

“You bad boys!” she cried, when she. saw what they had done. “Oh! what will
Miss Alice say, and she so set on them birds!”

Alice did not say much, but she cried so bitterly that it was all Cook could do to
comfort her. es ; 5

“See here, dearie,’ Cook said, fondling Alice’s curls, “don’t you cry no more, and
we'll see if we can’t make them another nest.”

“Oh! Cook, could we?” said Alice, brightening up at once. “Oh! do let us try.”

‘So Cook got a small box and lined it with soft wool, and then placed the poor
little birdies in it, and set the box. on Alice’s window-sill. When the old birds came
home it was very sad to see theif grief on finding the nest, which they had taken so
“much pains to build, broken and spoilt, but they had their babies still, and soon these
brave little birds determined to build themselves another nest.

Then what do you think Happened? Why, another pair of swallows, who lived
next door, set to work to help them. First Alice’s swallows would fly to the pond,
round which was an abundance of clay, and, bringing a piece of it in their bills, .
would dab it on the wall; then their neighbours came with their load, and so on.
At last the house was all built up again, and with great difficulty the parent birds
helped their young ones into it.

Then there was a rejoicing. It seemed -as though Mr. and Mrs. Swallow invited
all their friends to a merry-making, for such a twittering and chattering was never
heard. They all flew round and round the house, now swooping almost down to the
ground, and now soaring up into the sky. At last it grew dark, and then they all bade
each other good-night, and went home to bed.

No one ever attempted to disturb the swallows’ nest again, so that the swallow
family lived there happily until the cold weather came, when, to Alice’s regret, Mamma
and Papa Swallow and their five children, who were good big birds then, spread their
wings and flew away to warmer climes.

“Never mind, Alice,” said her Mother; “they will come back again in the Spring.”

And they did.





Princess
Pearl.

CHAPTER I.

€€P down at the bottom of the
LD sea there is a fair city where
the mermaids dwell. Some ©
: night, if you are very good, when all
— .the world is sleeping, I will come for
you, and carry you away in my arms to see this city. The houses are built of rocks,
covered with green sea moss, the rooms are carpeted with soft sand, and the windows
are curtained with every variety of sea-weed. The gardens are planted with the most
wonderful flowers you ever saw, and the little mermaids and mermen sport all day
with gold and silver fishes, tiny crabs,'and baby lobsters.
You will think that no one could possibly be unhappy or discontented in such
a pretty home—yet there once lived a little mermaid who was very discontented with
her lot. She had one day floated to the surface of the sea, and had seen a group
of children playing on the beach. They made chains of flowers, and danced round and
round till they were tired; then they iay still and laughed and laughed, because—well,
simply because they were so happy. Their mother came and called them home, and
they ran to her and put their little arms round her, and she kissed them and said,
“Have my bairnies been happy?” “Oh, so very happy,” said the children. Then they
went away, and the little mermaid sighed and said, “I wish I were a little mortal, to
play all day in the bright sun.” Then she sank down to her rocky home, and sat


thinking, thinking, thinking. The other little mermaids came flocking round her, and
asked her to come and play with them, but she shook her head sadly, and said she
was tired of playing with shells and crabs and lobsters.

Day after day she floated to the top of the sea, and each day the longing to be
a mortal grew in her breast, till at last she summoned up courage, and went to an
old witch mermaid, and asked her if she could possibly turn her into a little mortal.

“Ugh!” grunted the old witch, “and what do you want to be a mortal for?”

“Because they are so happy,” said the little one.

“Not so happy as you are down here,” said the witch. “Still, you may have your
way, but remember, I can make you a mortal on one condition only:—If you are
happy all will go well, but if you are so unhappy as to weep, the spell will be broken,
and you will be doomed to return to the bottom of the sea and weep your life away.”

The mermaid listened thoughtfully, and then said——

“Yes, I accept the conditions, for I am sure I shall never, never be unhappy if
only you will make me a mortal.”

So the old witch took a handful of red sand, and flung it into her cauldron. A
dense smoke arose and surrounded the little mermaid, who speedily lost all consciousness.

CHAPTER II.

When she came to herself again, she was lying in a gorgeous cradle, and a rosy-
cheeked maiden was bending over her.

“Well, little baby,” she said, “so you've come at last. Do you hear the bells ringing
in your honour? Ah! it’s well to be a King’s daughter.”

Then the rosy-cheeked maiden, who was called Alice, took her up in her arms,
and carried her into the next room, where a lovely lady lay. “I have brought the
baby to your Majesty,” she said; “see what a lovely child she is.’ Then the King
came in, looking so happy. He bent down and kissed both the Queen and the baby.

“We were happy before,” he said, “but God has been very good, and roe us
still greater happiness. What shall we call our darling?”

“I think,” said the Queen, “we will call her Pearl,” and the baby lay and smiled,
and thought what a- world of happiness it was.

Little Pearl grew and flourished—the idol of the King and Queen, and the pet or
the whole Court. Sweet-tempered and gracious to all, they all loved her, and vied with
each in trying to make her happy.

Sometimes she thought of the old days when she had been a little mermaid, and
once she said to the Queen: “Before I came to you, Mother, I was a little mermaid
and lived at the bottom of the sea.” But the Queen laughed, and said, “Little Pearl,
little Pearl, you have been dreaming.”

Then Pearl remembered the children she had seen playing long ago on the sea
beach, and said, “Mother dear, are there no little children to play with me?” And
the Queen answered: “There are many children in the land who will be only too
pleased and proud to play with the Queen’s daughter. I will send for one to come and
play with you.” And Pearl laughed, and clapped her hands.

The next day a pretty little girl came to Court, and Pearl was delighted. She
kissed her, and took her to see her toys, and said, “Choose what you will, dear little
girl, and you shall have it for your own.” But the child said, “If I may choose what



I please, I would like to go home to my Mother. I was so happy at home, but the
Queen sent for me, and I was brought here, but I cannot be happy away from Mother,

even with you, Princess Pearl.”

Then Alice, the Nurse, said crossly, “Thou art a wicked, ungrateful child, and dost
not deserve to live with my sweet Princess.”

But little Pearl said: “Do not cry, little girl. Play with me a little while, and
to-morrow your Mother shall come and see you.”
So the two children played together all day, and the next day-the child’s Mother
came to Court, and little Esther was happy again. But the Mother could not often
come to visit her little girl, and so one day she begged the Queen to allow her to
take Esther home again, but the Queen said, “No; it pleases the Princess Pearl to



have ittle Esther here; therefore, she must stay-—-the Princess must not be made
unhappy.” .

But day after day Esther grew paler and paler, and not all the fine presents that
Pearl lavished upon her could make her forget her Mother. Then Pearl said, “Little
Esther, if you cannot be happy here with me, then you shall go home to your Mother;
but it will grieve me sadly to part with you.”

“Then, indeed, she shall not go,” said Alice. “Perchance a good whipping will
cure her sour looks,” and therewith she fetched a stout whip and commenced to
belabour the trembling child.

For one second Pearl stood gazing in astonishment, and then, as little Esther
screamed in agony, she burst into tears.

Alas! the spell was broken! Pearl fell fainting to the ground.

They carried her into the stately castle, and fetched physicians from far and wide.
But these all shook their heads, and said they could do nothing for little Pearl, for
she was dead. The King and Queen stood weeping by her side.

“Alas!” they said, “she was too good and pure for earth. She has broken her
gentle heart over the sorrows of a poor peasant child.”

CHAPTER III.

But Pearl was not really dead: she was sitting in her old rocky home, weeping
her life away. The mermaids and mermen stood afar off, and gazed in wonder at
her. “Ah,”. said they, “she has lived in the great world and learnt its sorrows—that is
why she sits and weeps.” /

The little fishes came swimming about her, trying to tempt her to play with them
once more, but the oysters came close up to her, and opened their shells in astonish-
ment, so that, as she wept, the tears rolled down her cheeks and feli into the oysters’
mouths and were swallowed up!

Then when little Pearl had wept herself away, the oysters shut up their shells
with a snap, and went away home to bed. They did not sleep very well, however,
for a fisherman came and put some of them into his basket, and took them to the
market to be sold.

The King’s cook came to the market and bought the oysters, but when he opened
them he saw a beautiful strange seed in each shell. He did not know they were
the Princess’s tears, but he thought them so pretty that he carried them to
the Queen.

When the Queen saw them she said—

“They are so lovely and so pure that they remind me of my little Pearl. I will
make a necklace of them, and wear them in memory of my lost darling.”

And now, if anyone is very, very good and true, people say, “She is as pure as
a pearl,” for nothing can be lovelier or purer than tears of pity shed for the sorrows

of others.
Lucy L. Weedon.


Goung Jr. and {M2rs. Grow.

WO very-well-brought-up young Crows, who had grown too big to live with
n- their Mamma, and too hungry to visit their great-uncles and aunts very often,
made up their minds that, as soon as ever the nice sweet Spring came round,

they would set up nest-keeping all on their own account.

So when St. Valentine’s Day arrived, they flew here and they flew there. They
poked their busy bills into the fork of a tree, and tapped it, and cast their dark bright —
eyes around the tree’s root, and tapped it. The fact was, they were a too particular
couple of Crows.

At last, after a great deal of searching, and prying, and tapping, and peeping, they
found a tree which suited Mr. Crow completely, and Mrs. Crow, well, perhaps three-
quarters.

“You see, Mr. Crow,” said his mate, “we must not be too hasty in our selection
of a site. There’s the wind to be considered, and the dust to be considered, and
several other odds and ends, which you, Mr. Crow, know little or nothing about.”

“Well, when I lived at home with my Mamma——” began Mr. C.

But Mrs. C. interrupted him—

“If there's one thing that annoys me more than another, my pet, it is those
stupid stories you tell, which usually begin, ‘When I lived at home with my Mamma’!
But I’ve made up my mind’—here the lady bird danced a quaint little hornpipe, to
show that really she kad made up her mind—“and we will build our nest on that
bonny bough! Now, may I trouble you to pass a few straws, please ?”

Poor Mr. Crow was so surprised that affairs had been so quickly settled, that he
blinked twice, and then nearly toppled over.

“Hallo, there!” cried some Crows perched up aloft, “what are you doing?”

“Foundationing !” answered Mrs. Crow quite grandly.

“Be off!” cried an old lady Crow, with a terrible gruff voice.

“Madam,” piped Mr. Crow, in a regular tiff, “do you know that you are addressing
my better—much better half?”

“Be off!” cried the old lady Crow again. “Away with you! We want no silly
young couples here. Why, this is the very best and finest tree in the rookery, and
tenanted by the wisest and most venerable birds!”

“Do you know, when I lived at home with my Mamma
Crow. But the old lady Crow interrupted him with—

“Nonsense! See, all the crows are laughing at you!”

“Except grand-dad in the corner there,” struck in another elderly female Crow,
“and I see he is smiling all round his beak and half way down his back!”

Then you should have seen the tussle which followed, for as fast as the nice
and particular young couple tried to build a nest—and they did try hard—all the old
crow couples, uniting together, very quickly pulled it to pieces. There were sticks

~ flying here, and straws flying there; and the wool they

= had gathered tickled their beaks, while the dust that they .
raised got down their throats—till, good gracious me!
what a fuss and a scene there was, to be sure!

At length, thoroughly tired and beaten, young Mr.
and Mrs. Crow flew away, and alighted on a bramble-bush.

“’Pears to me,” — said
Mr. Crow, blinking sideways,
“pears to me, my love, we've
been ‘snubbed !”

Mrs. Crow waited awhile. -
But as her mate said nothing
about “when he lived at
home with his Mamma,” she
sighed and said—

“Any place will do to
build in now, darling.”

“Well,” said Mr. Crow,
shaking his head, “old couples

’ volunteered Mr.





seem to think that young couples should not begin nest-keeping at the top of high
trees, but must work their way upwards. So suppose we build our nest just where
we can, eh?”

“Oh, very well, my dear,” said she; “a middle-class tree will do for me; in a
stick-and-mud nest quite happy I'll be. For trees keep on growing and growing, you
see; and some day (in this, I think you'll agree) we may yet live high up in the
world, Mr. C.!”

Mary Boyle.

Al Jolly Ride.

ERE we go round the Nursery floor,
Round the table, and past the door;
Jigetty jog, and joggetty gee—
That’s the way for Marjy and me.



Here we go up, and here we go down,
All the day to Elfin Town ;

And if Dolly won't ride, Dolly must drop,
For we can’t bother to stay or stop.

— a) What shall we see when we get there?
a —, Kings and queens and palaces fair.
And what will the fairy people cry
As Marjy and I come riding by?

We'll see the folks ride up and down,

Some on gray and some: on brown ;

But there’s not a horse in the world so wide,
Half as good as the one we ride.

For he can gallop and he can trot,
And as for whipping, he wants it not;
But he carries us up, and carries us down,
All the day to Elfin Town.
LE. Weatherly.
Fruif and Flowers.

C6 RAN DMOTHER ,” said Meg, “did you hear what the minister said about
CG. the Fruit Show and the flowers? There’s blackberries and such like.”
“Well, they’re not likely to come your way, child,” said Mrs. Meadows
breathlessly. She was old, and the wind and rain tired her.

“You don't know,” urged Meg, a little tremulously; “no one don’t know. There’s a
place—-ever such a way off. Oh, Grannie, what if I could pay a bit towards the rent?”

“Rent ain’t so easy come by,” said her Grandmother, and she sighed.

It was always the dream of Meg’s life to pay something towards the rent; so she
held her heavy umbrella lower, and walked along
the wet footpath, saying the minister’s words over
and over to herself.




se a ale se
BS HS ae *

“Where are you going, Meg?” said the school-
mistress. ‘Your lessons to-day are disgraceful, and
you have not proved your sum. I must
keep you in.”

It was Wednesday afternoon, and
the day was warm and beautiful.

Meg's brown eyes were full of
tears, and her lip was trembling.

“Please,” she said, with a
hot clasp on the teacher’s skirt,
‘not to-day. I'll be better
afterwards, but I have a deal
on my mind.”

“Indeed,” said the teacher,
with a quick look at her, “I
think you have always some-
thing on your mind, Meg.”

“Tt’s the Show to-morrow,”
said Meg breathlessly, “and I’ve se
brought a basket, and I know
a field with blackberries—and
the rent’s due Saturday.”
“IT see,” said the school-mistress very gently. “Go, dear, I am glad you should
get the blackberries.”

So Meg flew away, with her hair streaming, to a bit of grass lane, between two
farms, where the blackberries caught the early sunshine, and had ripened splendidly.

Meg did not waste a moment. One by one she picked the large, ripe fruit, and
set them solemnly in the basket, lined with red and yellow leaves. The grass was
very wet, and the briars scratched her, but, by-and-by, as she scrambled on, she was
conscious of some one else scrambling on the other side of the hedge. First she
saw a boot—a good, strong, rich boot—and then a blue wing, and a pair of very
blue eyes, peeping at her.

“Why, Miss Helen!” said Meg faintly.

“Yes, it’s me,” said Miss Helen. “I’m picking blackberries for the prize—I didn’t
know that anyone else knew of this place. Let me see yours. Oh, what beauties!
But mine are just as good. I have to be home by five, so I can’t talk any longer,”
she cried, as she sprang back through the hedge.

It was no use trying—as Granny said, Meg had no luck. “What did Miss Helen
want with the prize?” she said to herself bitterly, as she hurried blindly on.

There was a singing in her ears, and a dizzy feeling in her head, but still she
carefully picked the largest berries, and laid them on the leaves, and, by-and-by, at
a gap in the hedge, she pushed her way through, and jumped down. Close at her
feet was a basket of splendid berries, and far down the field, Miss Helen, with a
hooked stick, was pulling the branches down. Meg looked at the sudden temptation
at her feet. She did not hesitate a moment, but, with a little whisk of her skirt, the
basket toppled over, and she was back on her own side of the hedge again, picking
away as fast as she could, with a very white face and trembling hands. It was quite
five minutes before she heard Miss Helen’s voice again, and then, for a minute, her
heart stood still, till she saw the blue wing forcing its way through the hedge.

Miss Helen was holding out the empty basket, talking and gasping and pushing
all at once.

“Meg, look here, it has upset—all my blackberries! Oh, these tiresome prickles !
And I haven’t another minute. They were such beauties—isn’t it disappointing ?”

Meg's frightened eyes were on Miss Helen’s empty basket.

“Isn't it disappointing?” said Miss Helen again, impatiently. “I picked them so
carefully. I have been here a whole hour, and no one knows. Very likely Nurse is
dragging the pond by this time; the boys will be furious, and all for nothing. :
must go; I daren’t stay a moment longer. Well, it gives you the prize, Meg, any way.”

The blue eyes cleared a little, and the blue wing left off trembling.

“It was my own fault. I just hustled it down any way, and of course it tilted
over. Anyhow, I’m glad it’s you, Meg. Good-bye!”
Helen and the empty basket ran across the muddy field, and disappeared in the
lane, and Meg, with cheeks grown suddenly red, picked furiously, until the berries
were piled almost up to the handle, and it was growing late and dark.

“Yes, they are fine berries,” said her Grandmother, peering at them through her
spectacles. “They must have given you a deal of trouble picking, and I’m sure you
deserve the prize.”

Meg said nothing.

“Why, what's the matter, child?” said Mrs. Meadows, looking up from the basket
on her knee. “You've had no tea, and you're wonderful white. Set the berries on
one side, and eat a bit of something before you go to bed.”

But Meg could not eat—not with that condemning basket set before her! She took
it up hastily, and pushed it far back into the cupboard, and then she hurried over
her tea, and went to bed. She felt certain everything would seem better in the
morning !

And so it did! The sun shone, and she was very hungry,
and the blackberries were certainly beautiful, with their trim- ve
ming of red and yellow leaves; and, after all, as ry
Meg kept saying to herself, Miss Helen had no
need of the prize, and she wouldn't miss
it a mite. But, all the same, when she
stood amongst the crowd of children in the
tent, and saw the great red figure 1 Ae i, 2 -
across the handle of her basket, she shrank
away in a kind of terror. But there was no
going back! The minister had put on
his spectacles, and the other children
behind were pushing her forward; and
then, in a kind of hush, she heard her










own name—

“Margaret Meadows.”

She made one step forward,
and then she stopped. She tried
to speak, but it seemed as if no
sound would come—and then a
voice said, “She is fainting—give
her air.”

“No, no, no?’ cried out Meg,
in a strange voice. “I really
haven't no right to it;
it's Miss Helen’s by
rights.”

There was a mur-
mur of voices, and
the dense crowd of
children drew back,
and left Meg standing
alone in the middle
ofthe tent. The tears
were streaming down
her face, but she felt
brave now, and
happier. :

“She and me, we
was picking in the

same field,” she said, in a trembling
voice, “and [ tipped it over. They was the same as mine.”

Again dead silence, and Meg felt a tiny tug at her sleeve. One of the children
was clinging to her, and whispering.

“Oh, Meg, not before folks,” she said.

- Meg stared at her. What did the folks matter ?—all these fine ladies and gentle-
men, who had never seen her before, and would never see her again. Granny will
never forgive me—that was all that mattered.

“Tut, tut!” said the minister, “what does it all mean, eh, Helen? Here’s the five
shillings, Margaret, and I feel certain you will make good use of them.”

Meg looked round at the blank, unresponsive faces, and shook her head, and
folded her hands behind her. She wanted to make them understand how wicked she
had been, but her voice trembled so that she could hardly speak. Then the silence
grew terrible, and she stretched out her hands, and said, “Grandmother,” in a frightened
voice.

And then a wonderful thing happened. The ladies and gentlemen parted, and Miss
Helen ran forward, and Grandmother came hobbling in on her black stick, right in
front of everyone, with her face just the same as usual, and her knotted hands
trembling; and she came right up to Meg, and put her arm round her, and hid her
face from everyone in the folds of her thin shawl.

“1 think, sir,” she said, in her cracked old voice, “that what Meg means to say
is, that she hasn’t won the prize fair, and she don’t deserve it; and if you'll give me
room, ladies and gentlemen, I'll take her home.”

“Stop a bit, Mrs. Meadows,” said the minister. “Helen seems to know all about


,

it, and the half is Margaret’s anyway.” He came bustling to the front, and put the silver
piece in Mrs. Meadows’ hand; then he just touched Meg’s hair, and said, “Poor
Margaret,’ in a very kind voice; and the crowd began to melt away, and Meg and
her Grandmother were left alone.

When they were safe at home, and the door was shut, Meg knelt before the
cold hearth, and lifted her miserable brown eyes to the old woman’s face.

“T’m—I’m—ashamed, Granny,” she said.

“Ah, it’s a terrible feeling—is shame,” said her Grandmother.

“J thought I was all alone, with those hundreds of eyes on me,” said Meg
brokenly; “and then you came, Gran, just through all the grand folks, and hid
me from them, and spoke up for me—you as was always so proud like, and so
honest—and—and me so bad!”

“I know, you see,’ said Granny gently, and stroking Meg’s hair tenderly. “The
gentry, they don’t know all the bitterness of it to a young thing. You set your
heart on it, and then it don’t come no nearer, and the wicked thoughts come with a
rush. No; it takes a deal of wisdom to understand ali about it, but I’ve been that
way myself, child.”

There is only one little thing to
add to the story of poor Meg’s temp-
tation, but it is a pleasant thing, as
we find that last words
sometimes are.

When Meg was just
starting to school next
morning, she was surprised
to see a little note slipped
under the door, in a dainty
envelope with a crest. Out-
side there was written in
a straggling hand, “With
Helen’s love,’ and_ inside
was a receipt for a
month’s rent.

As Helen said next day
in the school-room—

“Paying people’s rent
is very pleasant. I wish I
could do it oftener.”

Geraldine R. Glasgow.





Dolly's Barber.

RAY, Barber, cut my Dolly's hair,
But please to take the greatest care;

I fear I’ve treated her most sadly,
It does want cutting very badly.

But then she’s had a cold, you know,
And so I thought I'd let it grow;

But now her cold has gone away,
And she must have it cut to-day,

Because to-morrow, if it’s fine weather,
We're going out to tea together.
Clifton Bingham.
The Golden Rule.

OR, nearly half an hour Maggie had been pushing the
shabby perambulator up and down the wide parade-
ground in the centre of the camp, for the drums and
fifes were playing tattoo, and Freddy liked to look at
the red coats and the smart bandsmen. Now it was
all over and he was fretful, and Maggie's tired little
voice went droning on at some funny little words she
had set to the tune of the “March Past” :—

“Freddy's got to go to bed—
Oh, dear! Oh, dear!

First some milk, and then some bread,
Whilst the men are drinking beer.

Freddy's bed is nice and clean,
But his legs are very queer.
He can’t sit in the canteen,



He can’t never have no beer.”

Her feet were very tired, and she stood first on one leg, and then on the
other, to rest them. A great many of the soldiers’ wives were sitting on their
doorsteps, with babies on their laps, and here and there a parrot, in a bright cage,
talked, like the rest, at the top of his voice. In the doorway of the hut where
Maggie’s Mother lived, a lady was standing, and Maggie saw that “Tuck,” the puppy,
had caught the braid of her skirt in his teeth, and was unravelling it.

She stopped the perambulator with a jerk.

“You lie still a minute, Freddy,” she said, “and be a good boy against I come
back. There's that bad dog of yours taking the trimming off the lady’s dress, and
he’s biting at the little lady’s shoes. Oh, you may laugh, you bad boy, but it ain’t
nothing to laugh at, I can tell you.”

She shook up his hard little pillow with one hand, and ran the perambulator
back, until one wheel was wedged on to an empty doorstep. Then she dashed across
the deserted parade-ground, with her lank hair flying from under her battered hat,
and her scanty cotton skirt flapping.

She touched the lady on the arm.

“Please, ma'am, Tuck’s eating off the young lady’s shoes,” she said. “And he's
got a tangle of braid off your dress.”
She knelt down, and took the puppy in her arms, giving it some futile slaps.

“Now be’ave yourself, Tuck, or you won't get no supper. Tell the lady you're
sorry—oh, you ain't sorry, ain't you?—don’'t you know how to be’ave yourself to the
Colonel’s lady ?”



She kept giving it little reproachful taps, as she rose to her feet, and
curtsied to the Colonel’s lady. Her Mother had run in for a needle, and was
kneeling on the steps stitching up the tangled braid. The little girl, whose long

brown legs and bronze shoes had attracted the puppy, came over and patted it
gingerly.
“This is Maggie, ma'am,” said Maggie’s Mother from her knees.

“Yes, I know.” The lady had a kind voice, and she looked compasconaiey
at the meagre frame, and thin white face, in which the dark eyes seemed so
pathetically large. “I think she looks as if a little change would do her good,
don’t you?”

Maggie pricked up her ears, and stared more than ever; but at that moment
there came across the parade-ground a shrill angry cry that roused her.

“Lor’, Mother, I was forgetting Freddy,’ she said. “Ill run and give him
enother turn. He’s that tired wi’ sitting, and hé don’t seem so happy to-night, may
be the puppy’ll amuse him.”

She dropped another prim little curtsy, and ran hastily away, the thin cotton
skirt outlining very distinctly the thinner legs it covered.

The lady looked after her thoughtfully. The angry cries had ceased, and she
was bending over the perambulator with a sort of premature tenderness in every
line of her body. Freddy had folded his arms round the puppy, and the pathetic
little voice was once again droning out its monotonous chant :—

“Freddy’s got to go to bed—
Oh, dear! Oh, dear!”

She broke off abruptly.

“There, the lady’s gone, and the little lady, and Mother's sittin’ waitin’ for us.
Lor, how my poor legs do ache—but it ain't nothin’ when you're used to it.”

She smiled her odd little wistful smile into Freddy’s tired face, and covered the
whining puppy with his guilt.

“No, you ain’t going to get any supper, not if you cry ever so. I don’t hold
wi spoiling children, nor puppies neither, and when it comes to eating the clothes
off the very back of the Colonel’s lady, there ain't nothing bad enough for you, and
I don’t know whatever’ll happen to you.”

She took the puppy out, with a determined shake, and set it down on the
‘doorstep. Then she put her small arms round Freddy and lifted him. He raised
his hands with difficulty, and clung to her, but his crippled legs hung uselessly
down. They were cramped with long sitting, and he whimpered as she rubbed
them gently, and carried him into the hut. Almost unconsciously her lips took up
the plaintive song where it had ended abruptly :—

“Freddy's bed is nice and clean,
But his legs are very queer.”

She put him gently in his Mother's arms, and stooped over him, with a very
bright smile.
“He’s wore out, Mother—the lady stayed so long.”
“T am afraid you are tired too, dear.”

“T’m never tired, Mother.”

“Well, go and get a breath of air outside, love, and I'll get Freddy to bed
as quick as I can—for I’ve a message to you from the lady.”

Freddy was fretful, and did not want to get out of his Mother's comfortable
lap, and into his corner of the large, low bed, that nearly filled the back room of
the hut. However, at last he fell asleep,
and she laid him gently down, without
disturbing him, and then came out, and
sat beside Maggie on the step.
ee The child laid her tired
fy “head on her Mother's knee,
/ and shut her eyes. In a
minute she was half asleep,
till the quiet voice roused her.

“Wake up, Maggie, I
have something to tell you.
The Colonel's lady knows of *
a place by the seaside, some-
where—where poor children’s
taken mm for a bit, and made
strong. She wants
you to get your
things ready by
next Friday, and the
Colonel'll pay your
way out of the
S Pat funds.”

SSS hy ie ee ae ae “Me, Mother!”
ww MGS, said Maggie. She
was wide awake now, sittmg up, with her keen, dark eyes fixed on her Mother's face.

“Yes, love, you; you've not had a bit of a change, dear, in all these three
years, and Freddy’s very wearing.”

She sighed, and lowered her voice, and put out her hand to draw Maggie back
on to her knee, but Maggie still sat upright, staring at her.

“Now, there’d be some sense in it if it was Freddy,” she said.

Mrs. Lappin looked at her anxiously.

















“You won't make a trouble about it, Maggie,” she said; “the lady’s taken a
deal of trouble. It’s a nice sea, with shells, and such things—and you always were
one for the sea.’

“When I was a baby, Mother,” said Maggie contemptuously. “Where’s the good
of shells to me now? No, I won't make no trouble; I’m going to bed now.
Kiss me, Mother.”

“You're tired, love—shall I put you into bed as if you was a baby?”

“No; you wait for Father, and sit with him here a bit. I’ll manage well enough
by myself.”

She slipped into the grey room where Freddy tossed uneasily under the sheet,
and when she had said her prayers, she leant over him, and kissed him with passionate
tenderness.

Maggie rose at dawn next morning, and dragged her weary legs to the officers’
quarters, where the parlour-maid was taking in the milk. All the upstairs blinds
were down, but, through the open door, she could hear a child laughing, and little
snatches of song. She would not go into the kitchen, as the maid suggested, but
she sat down upon the doorstep, to wait till the mistress should come downstairs.
It was warm and sunny, and the air was drowsy, so she was almost asleep again
when a voice roused her.

‘Who is it? Oh, I see—Maggie. Your Mother has told you? Go and break-
fast in the kitchen first, and we will talk about the seaside afterwards.”

Maggie had stumbled to her feet, and her heart was beating with low thumps,
-but she had to speak.

“If you please, ma’am,” she said, “it’s about that; I couldn't go to the seaside,
not if it. was ever so. There’s no one to do a stroke of work at home but Mother
and me—I couldn't be spared.” .

“But it will make you strong, Maggie.”

“Pm as strong as I want,” said Maggie; “I don’t never ail nothing.”

The Colonel’s wife felt the thin arm she defiantly stretched out, and smiled.

“I don’t care for the sea,’ went on Maggie, her words tumbling on one another
in her eagerness. “It keeps on so—night and day; you can’t never rest for it.”

“But the shells, Maggie?”

The Colonel's daughter was dancing down the stairs with the same brown stockings
that Maggie had so admired the night before. She came and pushed her curly brown
head under her mother’s arm.

“Doris loves the shells, don’t you, Doris?” said the Colonel's wife. ‘And here
is a little girl who does not want to go to the sea.”

“Oh-h-h!” said Doris.

“No, I don’t want to—not a mite,” said Maggie quickly; “but Freddy loves
it, and, at the Home, I daresay, they would just as
lief have one as another.”

“But, Maggie,” said the lady gently, “it would
do you more good than Freddy—you are thin and
pale, and you are always tired. It would be
Freddy’s turn next year.”

“And who's to say he'll be here next year,”
said Maggie thickly. “It don’t mean nothing to
me—I hate the sea, but Freddy’s wanted to
go all his life.”

“You really hate the sea, Maggie?”

“Yes, I do,” said Maggie, with a red
flush on her thin cheeks.

There was a moment’s silence, then
Mrs. Resgrave said gently:

“Well, what do you want me to
say, Maggie?”

Maggie’s eyes filled with tears.

“T want you to let Freddy go, ma’am,
e ge instead of me. He’s such a poor little
chap, and he’s that heavy to drag about,
I can’t get him far; and I’d love to think
he was by the sea, with shells and things, to satisfy him.”

“Well, go and get your breakfast, child, and I will think it over.”

“Mother,” said Doris, as she skipped into the dining-room, clinging to her mother’s
dress, “how funny of Maggie not to like the sea!”

“J am not quite sure that she doesn’t, Doris,’ said her mother.

“But it is very wicked to tell stories,’ said Doris, with wide eyes, “and she
said she didn’t.”

“Tt is always wrong to tell stories, Doris,’ said her mother, “but there is a
golden rule, which I think Maggie is learning by heart, and when people are very
young, and very ignorant, they do not always walk in the narrow road. It is
a golden rule called Love, Doris, and it makes even a camp-hut a very happy
place.” | ;

“But, Mother,’ said Doris, “couldn’t Maggie come with us, even if Freddy goes
to the seaside? It wouldn’t be very dear, would it, if we told Nurse not to give |
us supper, and if we only had puddings once a week, just on Sundays, for Philip’s
sake—he likes Sunday puddings so much better than common ones?”

“Perhaps we could manage it without giving up the puddings, Doris. Eat your









breakfast now, and I will speak to Father, and we will go over and talk to Mrs,
Lappin again to-night.” .

Maggie, flushed and panting, burst into the hut an hour later, and flew into
her Mother’s arms.

“It’s all right, Mother—Freddy’s to go, not me. The lady’s put the other name
in the letter.”

“Oh, Maggie!”

‘Why, you didn’t think I’d go!” said Maggie indignantly, “and him and you
left here. Just to think of the selfishness of it! But it'll be all right now. You're
going to the sea, Freddy, where there’s sand, and shells, and crabs, and all sorts
of lovely things, and your poor legs ll get strong, darling, and you won't want to
be carried about no more.”

“But I wonder the lady let you change, dear,” said her Mother.

“Mother,” said Maggie soberly, “I had to be a bad girl, and tell a story about
it. I told the lady I hated the sea, and I wouldn't go nigh it. Do you think God'll
forgive me, Mother, seeing I did it for Freddy?”

“T daresay He will, Meg, but it seems a pity, love. It seems as if it spoilt the
pleasure of it a bit. There, don’t cry, gk a love, but help me to dress
Freddy against the lady comes. Father's f( 7A, just gone by with the regiment,
and he'll hear the band if we set him fe) on the step.”

Geraldine R. Glasgow.





Rilfy’s Costume.




CAN NOT dress you, Kitty mine,
In furbelows and flounces fine;
And as for dainty dancing-shoes,
They're not the things that you would use.

It would not do for you to wear
Feathers or flowers to deck your hair;
And neither fringe nor “bun,” ’tis clear,

Would suit your beauty, Kitty dear.

Nor should I like to see you deck
With gaudy gems your fluffy neck;
And as for bracelets, fans, and rings—

You can despise such silly things.
But just a knot of ribbon blue,

With my best love, I’ve got for you,
And two bob-cherries at each ear,

And you'll look charming, Kitty dear.

For folk may criticise your dress,
But, Kitty, I'll not love you less.
Whate’er it be, howe’er you go,
You are the dearest Kit I know.
I. FE. Weatherly.




(orrR, 1GHT
1895, r
BY ENISTER

Under the Mistletoe.





The Dandelion Puffs.

HE sun had just risen: and the morning dew
lay sparkling on the grass, hanging from the
tender green leaves like glittering jewels in a
royal diadem.

A blackbird was whistling in the thick
branches of an elm-tree, and on the fallen trunk of one
of its tall dead companions, a robin sat, thinking—he was so
very still. And fairies coming late home from their moon-
light revels, returned their red caps, and hung them up
neatly, in straight lines, on the green fox-glove stems from whom
they had borrowed them, collected the dew-jewels, and fastened
them in their gossamer coats, and hid them under wild-rose
bushes, and then disappeared themselves, leaving a toadstool to
mark their residence.

And timid brown hares forsook their bracken shelter and ran
home to their burrows, deep in the earth. Young thrushes twittered
in their nests, begging the old birds to teach them to fly.

Away they hurry, flapping their. tiny wings; beautifully clumsy—like a little
child learning to walk; falling as often, but never disheartened; screaming madly in
the sunshine, laughing merrily at their own awkwardness.

‘How well they succeed, all, but one—and the others shout for her to make
haste—and she hurries after them, half running, half flying.

“Back to the nest, children!”’—“Back to the nest!’—‘Hide yourselves !’—and
the old birds cry and beat their wings, driving the young ones before them, into
the hollow where buttercups and speedwell grow,—and the tall “sheep-parsley”
shelters them, as they bury their heads in the dark leaves.

“Are you all here?” and the mother bird hovers over them, scanning them
eagerly.

“Yes, “all,” comes back in breathless whispers.

“Why are you all so frightened? Why should we hide? JZ will see what
is the matter,’ pipes the eldest, and boldest flier: so he shoots his little black
head out of cover. He can see nothing to alarm them; the blackbird has left off
whistling, and the robin has vanished, but there is nothing to be afraid of; high
up in the sky he can see a little black speck; so he watches it fascinated, while his

little heart beats “thump, thump,” in his little body.
Suddenly there grew, out from nowhere, a black cloud, between him and the
sunshine, and he hears the mother calling wildly to him—‘Where is the little sister
bird?”—crying plaintively, “Come, come, my little one; we wait for you'—and
running restlessly to and fro, seeking: her. And the black cloud hangs over them,
and the bold little bird cannot take his gaze from it, as the little sister bird
flutters helplessly towards them, with wide-open staring eyes. Then a sharp, terrified
scream rings through the mie air, and some white blood-stained feathers fall
slowly to earth.

And then the little bird can see nothing but father and mother mixed up with
the cloud. Now whirling furiously round and round, now high, now low, struggling,
panting, striking desperately with their hard bills, fighting for dear life and the dead
little one.

And when he looks again, the ground is strewn with feathers, and the black
cloud is gone.

“Brave old birds!’—it was well and nobly fought.

But their wounds were many and sore, and their hearts are bursting with grief.
The little one lies, on a soft patch of turf, in a little pool of its own life’s blood,
and a strange flower with long, jagged green leaves is shielding it from the hot
rays of the morning sun, shaking the cool dew on its closed dull ‘eyes, fearlessly
lifting its own little bright golden face to catch each beam of light.

And the fairies rush out of their hiding-places, waving their bright swords of
sharp, shining pine needles, vowing vengeance on the cruel hawk who had killed
their minstrel, the little singing thrush.

And the mother bird cries softly, smoothing out the ruffled plumage, and the
little ones gather round her with awe-stricken faces, and the fairies stand round
“them all, building a little arbour of sweet grasses, and then they vanished again,
bidding the strange flower keep guard, for, they said to each other, ‘He is as brave
as a lion and as glorious as the mid-day sun.”

So the golden flower watched by the poor dead singing-bird, shielding his
mangled body from the burning heat, while the blackbird whistled, and the robin
hopped about for sympathy; and the old birds cried in inconsolable sorrow, till the
shadows grew long, and the sun sank to rest in his rosy cloud bed.

And the fairies trooped out again, with their glow-worm torches, and covered
the dead songster with dazzling jewels; and kind spiders wove her winding-sheet ;
and the nightingale sang the funeral dirge, while the evening star looked down; and
the brave little flower hung his golden head, and cried that he might not watch
any longer, because the sun had kissed him good night, and had tied on his green
night-cap, and he couldn't open his eyes—“they were asleep.”

And the full moon shore bright and clear in heaven, and smiled on him, and
said so kindly, “My
child, the fairies have
rightly said you were
as brave as a lion, *
and as fearless as the ¢
day. The good sun |
has made you golden | +
and beautiful, and Z will ... :
‘make you round and ~
silvery—so that you.
may also watch with
me, through the night,
with a hundred watchful eyes,—that will never sleep.”

And immediately, a pale round silvery globe of the most delicate seeds formed
themselves on the green stalk, where the golden blossom had drooped, and a tiny
yellow bud raised his head, and stood beside his valiant brother, waiting for the
morning sun to kiss his eyes open.

And the fairies joined hands, and danced round them—the new flower and the
old—and called them the “Dandy Lions’—because they were so dainty, and so strong,
and so pretty. ;

And so they grew together always—the “Sun blossom” and the “Moon flower
puff,” for ever the loving faithful guard of forest, of field, and meadow.

Foan Becker.




AA Grumble.

Z seems a very funny thing
That when it’s time to shut. my eyes,
The little stars should open theirs
All wide awake up in the skies.

I really think it is too bad

That I can’t watch them at their play.
I wish they didn’t go to bed

And do their sleeping through the day.

M. Hedderwich Browne.
Slumber Sona,



Â¥
f
“a
“O/ Sleep the Ferryman comes at night,
l With visage grave and grim,

To search for babes by candlelight,

And bear them away with him,




a

ea

=
ig

i Down Dreamland Bay, in a cradle boat
As snug as snug can be,
Where silver star-fish gently float
Beneath a blue, blue sea.

He rows them first, as the big sun sets,
To the land where the poppies grow,
And at sight of these they quite forget
Their Mothers who love them so.

They give to Sleep a nod and a wink,
As much as if to say:

“J like you well; I rather think
I'll go with you all the way.”

From Poppyland to Slumber-shore
Through wondrous sights «h y roam,
Then with the tide they turn once more,
And hoist the sail for home.

Now, why do they need a good-night kiss?
Is it the journey’s far ?
No; Sleep the Ferryman knows by this
Whose Baby-boy you are. _
Lily Oakley.
Multiplication is ‘Vexation.



THEL was very unhappy.
On a gay, golden June day

it did seem hard to be
cooped up in a_ stuffy school-
room, among inky exercise-books
and torn atlases, with a long
multiplication sum to do—six
lines, most of them nines and
‘sevens. That was because she
was sentenced to be kept in for
not knowing such a stupid thing
as that seven times nine are
sixty-three. And she had. the
long sum to do as a punishment.
Outside, the bees were humming,
and the others were having tea
on the lawn. Ethel Knew how
sweetly the scent of stocks and
sweet-williams mixed, with the
scent of strawberries.

“It’s too bad,’ she said.
“Seven times nine indeed—what
can it matter? JI shall never
ES have seven of anything nice, let

hoo alone seven times nine of it.”

“Ugh—scrape—screw—youp,’ said the slate-pencil. “What a very ignorant little
girl! Have you got a bit of ribbon?”

Ethel stared at it, and before she knew what she was doing she found herself
tying a dolly’s sash round the slate-pencil.

“There’s no time to wash our faces,’ it said. “But I feel a bit smarter now.
Come on!” and it took Ethel’s hand, and then she saw the slate she had propped
up against the arithmetic-book had changed into a door. She and the slate-pencil
hurried through, and found themselves suddenly in a wood.

“It’s very rude of you to drag me along like this,” she said. “You're only
a slate-pencil.”
“I can do sums. though,” said the slate-pencil sharply, “when I’m in proper
company.”

Ethel wished she hadn’t spoken.

“Youre not such a bad sort of little girl,’ the slate-pencil went on. “Tor one
thing, you never put me in your mouth when youre thinking. Perhaps that’s
because you never think. Now, what do you suppose sums are for?”

“To do the housekeeping-books,” said Ethel, “and you never want multiplication
for that—only addition.”

“Well,” said the slate-pencil, “I’m taking you to see some of the things multi-
plication is wanted for.” .

The next minute they were under a green.arch, and all around them thousands
of tiny fairies, all dressed in green and gold and white, were hurrying about in
every direction.

“Just as though they had lost their lesson-books and were late for school,”
thought Ethel. .

The Fairy Queen stood on a big mushroom in the middle, and called out
directions to everybody, in the sweetest voice in the world.

“Five thousand daisies on Ethel’s lawn at home—say twenty-five petals in each
fril—how many petals?”

“A hundred and twenty-five thousand,” cried dozens of tiny voices.

“Then look out the frills and fit them on at once.”

“Seventeen lilies in Ethel’s garden—two dewdrops each—how many dew-drops?”

“Thirty-four,” cried everybody before Ethel had had time to murmur, “Twice
seven are fourteen.”

“There are forty-seven rosebuds who don’t know how to open. It will take
three fairies to each rosebud—how many is that?”

“A hundred and forty-one,’ cried the slate-pencil, who couldn’t restrain himself
another moment.

“Right!” cried the pretty Queen, looking kindly at him, and then she went
on giving her royal commands. There were flowers to be fed and glow-worms to
be lighted, and little birds by millions waiting to be taught their night songs.

“How busy the fairies are!” cried Ethel. “I wonder how they ever get their
work done.”

“It's multiplication does it,’ said the slate-pencil, playing proudly with his sash.
“You can’t do that sort of thing with addition, like butchers’ bills.”

“But, of course, it’s easy for fairies,” said Ethel.

“Oh, is it?” squeaked the slate-pencil. “You come and see—that’s all.’

So off they went to the fairy school. The fairy school-children sit on little
benches, made of green rushes fastened together with rose thorns instead of nails.
They write on rose-leaves, with daisy petals for pens, and they are never, never,
never kept in!

The fairy who was teaching them asked them questions, and they all seemed
to remember what they had been taught.

“Would you like to put a few questions to the class?” said the fairy politely,
and Ethel asked the first question that came into her head.

“What are they doing at home?”



“Qh, that’s easy,” said the fairy, as all the little hands went up:—Because
fairies can see everything that’s going on all over the world.”

“They're saving cake for Ethel,’ said all the class, and when they all spoke
together it was like the pattering of soft rain on green leaves.

“Plain cake?” said Ethel.

“Yes,” said the head-mistress, Fairy Kindly. “Would you like it to be currant 2”

“Ol, yes,” said Ethel.


but she got him to help her with the sum; and as

- took great pains, she actually got it right the first time.
When the others gave her the cake they had

currant-cake, and there were fifty-six currants in each

Good Advice.

L

And you must be very

“Three pieces of cake for
Ethel,’ the fairy went on,
“with fifty-six currants in each
—how many currants will that
be?”

“One hundred and _ sixty-
eight,” cried the slate-pencil
hastily, and one hundred and
sixty-eight fairies started off
at once to put the currants in.

“Thank you so much,” said
Ethel. “I think I had better
go home and do my sum now,”
—for the thought of the cake
had made her quite hungry.

“Make a curtsy, and come
on, then,” said the slate-pencil,
and the next moment she was
rubbing her eyes in surprise
at finding herself back in the
school-room again.

The slate-pencil was lying
beside her, still wearing his
sash. He would not speak,
she worked very slowly, and

saved for her it really was
piece too—for Ethel counted

EE. Nesbit.

OU’ K€ invited out.to tea, Dolly,

good;

And don’t forget your manners,

And do nothing wrong or rude.
Let folk see you're a lady,
Though you're only made of w

ood.
Dof and Don.

NE bright afternoon in the middle of summer a girl of about eighteen
sat alone in a cool, shady drawing-room, reading a letter which had
just been brought in to her. As she read the end of it the door
opened and a lady came into the room.

“Oh, Mamma,” the girl exclaimed, “it is all settled—we are to have Dot next
week ; he'll arrive on Thursday. His mother says it will be a great help if we can
look after him during their removal, and that he is such a good, quiet little boy she
doesn’t think he’ll give us much trouble, and really, with Papa being ill, it is a good
thing she is not sending Don here, isn’t it ?”

“Certainly,” answered her mother, when she in her turn had read the letter.
“But how strange it is that two little brothers—twins, too!—should be so different
in character. From what Mildred says, Don gets more mischievous or naughty’
every day, and she could hardly trust him with us unless his nurse came too. I am
really glad we are not to have ‘the pickle’ on our hands.”

A day or two later Frances drove down to the station to meet her little cousin
Dot. The first thing she saw
as she walked on to the plat-
form was a very tall footman,
with an extremely red face,
holding a tiny boy in a sailor
suit firmly by the hand.

“That must be Dot,” she
thought, as the little boy turned
a pair of great blue eyes towards
her. “But I hope there’s
nothing the matter—I’m afraid
he’s been crying.”

The footman looked very
relieved as she came up to
‘him, but kept a firm hold
of his charge until Frances,
having made’ sure that
the child was indeed her
little cousin, took his other
hand in her own. .

“Twill drive him












home myself,” she said, “and his luggage
can follow in the cart. I suppose,’ she
added to the footman, who stood by
wiping his forehead vigorously, “that
you can go back by the next train ?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he answered eagerly, “
and departed; and a minute or two. later Franccs
and her guest were trundling along the shady lanes
at the best speed Frances’ fat pony was equal to.

“What a quaint little chap he is,” thought the girl,
as she only got a solemn nod in answer to every “4
questicn she put to her tiny cousin. “I wonder why he-won’t speak — I trust he’s
not home-sick already.” Then aloud she added: “I hope you'll be very happy with
us, dear—though I’m afraid you'll be dull without your Mamma. Youre her little
comfort, aren't you? She tells me she always calls you her ‘little comfort.”

For the first time her small companion opened his mouth.

“Did Mamma say that?” he asked slowly, in a solemn, surprised voice. ‘“Did
Mamma say I was her little comfort ?”

“Why, yes, darling, of course she did; and lots of other things. You see I know
all about you, Dot. She told me how good you are to Baby, and—what are you
looking so frightened at?’ she went on laughingly, as the child stared up at her
with an expression she could not quite understand.

“Nofink,” he answered slowly, while his face grew redder and redder. “I was
finking; only—but—I’ll be very happy with you because you're nice. I suppose
you are nice to me because Mamma said those things ?”

Frances again felt rather puzzled, but she had not time to answer, for just at that
moment they drove up to the front door of her home. She lifted Dot down from the
cart and gave him a kiss as she did so. Dot’s arms were immediately flung round her neck.

“Dear Francie,” he whispered, “please go on loving me and—and I'll be very good.”

The next day Frances wrote to Dot’s mother—her cousin Mildred—and told
her how pleased they all were with the little boy. Never, she said, had she known
such a dear loveable child, “though I’m afraid,” she wrote, “that he has. not much to
amuse him. Still, he seems very bright and happy.”

Dot meanwhile was growing more and more devoted to Frances, in whose care
he was almost entirely left; and though she, on her side, grew daily fonder of the
little boy, at times she felt that there was something she couldn’t quite understand.
For one thing, Dot seemed not to care to speak of his home—or of any home things !
Two days after his arrival Frances asked him what message he would like her to
send to his mother, to whom she was then writing.




“And to Don,” she added; “you want to send your love to Don, don’t you?”

Dot had moved away from her as she spoke, and gave no answer to her question;
so Frances repeated it. Then, to her surprise, he turned a very red face towards
her, and she saw that tears were not far off,

“I don’t want to send love to anybody,” he muttered crossly, and nothing that
Frances could say would make him explain what was the matter, though a few. minutes
later he ran up to her and said he was sorry for having answered so naughtily.

The next morning after breakfist a letter
came to Frances from Dot’s mother. She and
he were sitting together in the school-rcom.

“See here, Dot,” she exclaimed, before
she opened it, “a letter from your Mamma!”

Dot's face grew scarlet. He gave
a kind of gasp, and before Frances
knew what he was after, he rushed
up to her and pulled the envelope
out of her hands. He would
have torn it in pieces
had not Frances caught
him by the arm.

“My dear little boy,”
she said gravely, “what
on earth does this
mean ?”

* Dot stood silent
before her, his chest
heaving up and down.
Frances felt too puzzled
to know what more to say. The
letter lay on the floor between them;
she stooped down and picked it up.

“Francie, Francie,” cried Dot, running up to her again, “don’t read the letter!
oh, don't read it! If you won't I'll tell you what I’ve done! I've only been
purtending to be good; I’m the naughty one—I’m Don/ Dot got a cold and
couldn't leave Mamma, so she sent me instead. I was naughty about coming—
I kicked James hard the whole way in the train—I cried as loud as I could!
Then you were kind to me because you fought I was good—you fought I was
Don! So I purtended to be good, for you to love me, and now you won't love
me any more—oh-h-h !”











Dot—Don rather—here burst into a loud wail, which, however, did not reach its
full force as it was smothered on Frances’ shoulder.

“My darling little boy,” she went on saying softly, and each time she said it
Don gave her such a hug his arms really grew tired.

When, Jater on, Frances read the letter, she understood how the mistake had
first arisen. The servant who had brought Don as far as the station had forgotten
to give a note from the children’s mother which explained that, owing to his
having caught a severe cold, Dot was unable to go to his cousin’s, so she had—
in some fear and trembling it must be allowed—sent off Don in his stead.

Don stayed with Frances for another whole week, and during that time these two
had several long talks together. Don learnt to his surprise that the only thing Frances
thought he had done wrong was in not letting her know her mistake—not telling
her at once that he was Don.

“But I purtended to be good—that was naughty, wasn’t it,” said he uneasily.
“I felt all the time it was naughty to purtend.”

“You pretended to be- Dot, but I think you really éried,” said Frances.

Don's face cleared. “Then being good was real!” ane exclaimed delightedly.
“It’s easier than I fought! I'll go on wif it always now.”

“Yes, do,” see Frances, smiling; “though now and then you ‘ll find it will seem
difficult again.”

“Will it?” said Don sadly. “Still,” brightening up as he spoke, “I'll go on—for
Mamma will be so surprised if I turn into a comfit as well as Dot! Won't it be
nice, Francie?” — ee

“Very nice,” said Francie, and Don gave her another hug.

Olive Molesworth.

By-and-By.

S I came down the stair one day,

I met a little maiden gay ;

«, Please come and play with me,” said I.
“T will,” she answered, “by-and-by |"



“I’m very busy now, you see— So as I left her on the stair,
I’m playing with my doggies three ; Still playing with her doggies there—
I’d like to come and play with you, “I hope, my little maid,” said I,

But they will miss me if I do!” “Twill very soon be by-and-by.”
ayvmat






The

@overness.

c KNOW I shall hate her!” cried Jim.
“Nasty thing!” said Kate.
“Narlty fing!’ repeated Baby George.
“I don’t see why we should have a governess at all!” said Jim.
“It’s a shame!” said Dolly.
“That it is,’ said Jim.
And Baby George repeated, “A same.”
“Well,” said Dick, “I'll never do anything this Miss Tracy tells me—so there!
Come on, let's have a jolly good snowballing—she won't be here till to-night.
Aunt’s got some people coming to lunch, but they won’t interfere with us.”
And the children were soon busy rolling their big snowball — to make it even
bigger than before. \

Their Mother and Father were in India, and the children had been three months
with their Aunt, getting more and more unmanageable—learning nothing new and
forgetting everything they had learned—even their manners. So now they were to
have a governess—and she was coming that very evening.

But they soon forgot their troubles in the pleasure of their snow-play. ‘Come
on!” cried Jim, presently; “let’s have a battle—only soft balls, Dick, because of the
girls, You and Kate and Baby against Dolly and me.”

The forces divided, and the armies began to make ready their ammunition—piles of
small snowballs heaped in the convenient storage between the gnarled tree-roots.

Then they began the fight. Such pelting and running and dodging, such shouts of
laughter—the very lodge-keeper looked out to see what was going on, and went.
back to her house-work with a “God bless their little hearts !”

At first the two sides seemed evenly matched—but Baby was rather a hin-
drance because you had to be so careful not to hit him, and he often threw a
Snowball at one of his own side in mistake. Gradually Dick’s side was being driven
back towards the trees, and Jim was pursuing them with a shower of snowballs,
when suddenly a ball came flying from an unexpected quarter and caught him fairly
in’ the face.

He looked round. A very pretty young lady was standing by a tree, laughing
at him; when he turned she threw another snowball, and as-it hit him on the
arm, cried, “Go on! go on!—I’m on Baby’s side.” And after a moment’s pause
the fight went on. ,

But now indeed the chance of battle had changed. The new comer protected
Baby with her skirts, threw her balls well, and only laughed when she was hit.
At last the luncheon-bell. rang. .

“Oh, dear,” cried Dolly, “what a pity ! I suppose you're on your way to
have lunch with Aunty at one. Our dinner is afterwards at two. What’s your name?”

“Amy,” said the pretty young lady.

“You're a jolly good chap at a snow-fight, Miss Amy,” said Jim, “will you
play with us again ?” ,

“Oh, yes, if you'll have me. And now,. as you say, I must be going on.”

The children brushed the snow off her jacket and walked with her to the
house. When Baby said he was tired she carried him on her back. The children
were as metry as grigs, and chattered all the way, telling their new friend all
their troubles—particularly the one about the governess, which now came back to
them with fresh force after their delightful game.
os



A Good Shot


“It’s very hard for you, no doubt,” said Miss Amy, “but just think what it
will be for your governess! And you're not going to do anything she tells you !
I.am sorry for fer. I wouldn’t try to teach you for anything if you'd made ‘up
your minds never to obey me.”

“Oh, but we would obey you,” said Dick; “you're such a good fellow.”

“Yes,” said Kate, “you're pretty like our own dear darling Mamma in India.”

“I love oo,” said Baby, holding on tight round her neck.

“T wish you hadn't come only to lunch,” said Jim. “If you were going to be a visitor
you would sleep in the best room-—and you could help us against the horrid governess.”

“I’m afraid I couldn’t do that,’ said Miss Amy gravely.

“Why?” asked all the children at once.

“You.won't love me any more if I tn you,” she said.

“Oh, yes, we will, whatever you say.’

“Well, then,’ she answered slowly, “I couldn’t help you to be naughty because
—TI am the new governess!”

' “You don’t mean it?” cried the children, stopping short.

“But I do,” she said.

There was silence a minute and Miss Amy looked a little anxious. They had got
close to the house now—the next minute Aunt Ellen put her head out of the front door.

“Whatever is this dreadful. noise ?” she asked anxiously.

“Oh, it’s only us!” answered Dick. “We're giving three cheers for the governess.”

E. Nesbit.

Georgie’s ‘Penny.

“ OOD-BYE, Dorothy !” called Mother.
G “Good-bye, Georgie!” called Aunt Jeanie.




ee: Georgie ran to the Nursery window, and
ae ‘es bs waved his hand; but Dorothy curled herself up in the
arm-chair, and looked just as cross as a small girl can look.
“Come and play at something, Cousin
Dorothy,” said Georgie. j
Dorothy frowned.
“Won't you show me your new doll ?” said
Georgie.
Dorothy shook her head.
“Mother promised to take me with her,

”

she said.


“Well, but you have company,” said Georgie, “and you ought to be polite to your
company.”
“J didn’t want the company to come,”

Mother.”
“You're a cross old thing,” said Georgie, “and I wish the company hadn't come,”

and he thrust his hands into his pockets, and stared out of the window.
“It’s just like a girl,” he began, pulling his handkerchief out with a jerk.
Something rolled out of his pocket on to the floor.

Dorothy looked up. -
“There,” said Georgie, “now I’ve lost it. I quite forgot it was in my pocket.”

“What was it?” asked Dorothy, uncurling herself from the chair.
“A penny,” said Georgie.

said Dorothy ; “I wanted to go out with
Dorothy jumped down on to the floor.
“A penny!” she cried. “Why, Georgie, we'll go shopping.”

“We will,” said Georgie,
clapping his hands.

“Put on your hat,” said
Dorothy, “and I'll get mine.
I wish I could-wear my best
one, but I can’t reach the
box, and I don’t think I'll
ask Sarah to get it for me.”

“Never mind your best hat,” said Georgie; “girls always bother about their
clothes. Come on.”

“Come quickly downstairs,” said Dorothy ; “Sarah is in the garden, so she won't see us.”

Not until they were outside the front door did either of them remember the penny.

’ “I thought you had it,” said Dorothy. ane

“Well, we can’t get in again,” said Georgie; “we must go without it, Dorothy. We'll
just tell the shop pedple that we left the money at home.”

They trotted down the road quite happily.

Dorothy knew the way, and the shops were not very far from home.

‘Shall we buy a toy or sweets?” said Dorothy.

“T think a toy,” said Georgie, “I want a rocking-horse very badly ; but of course
we couldn’t carry that.”

“A rocking-horse,” said Dorothy, laughing. “You can’t buy arocking-horse witha penny.”

“Dorothy,” said Georgie, pointing to the pavement, “look there! It is beginning
to rain, and I shall get my new coat wet.”

“Boys sometimes bother about their clothes,” said Dorothy slyly. “We will wait
under this arch until it stops.”

But the shower was quite a sharp one, and the children quickly grew tired of waiting.

“I wish we had an umbrella,” said Georgie.

“We'll borrow one,” said Dorothy; “we'll ask the old lady at the china-shop to
lend us hers.”

Georgie looked at Dorothy admiringly.

They both ran quickly from the arch to the shop, and Dorothy walked boldly in.

The old lady was standing behind the countér, and she smiled at Dorothy.

“What does you: Mamma want, Missie?” she said.

“Nothing, thank you,” said Dorothy, “but I want an umbrella.”

“An umbrella!” said the good old lady. “I don’t sell umbrellas.” @

“Of course not,” said Dorothy, “I know that; but we don’t want to buy oné—we
want you. to lend us one.”


The old lady looked rather astonished, but she went into the parlour behind the
shop, and brought out a very large, very old umbrella.
said Dorothy ; “thank you very much.”

”

‘We'll bring it back quite safely,



CualHada ‘
4 OD

”

“We shan’t be long, you know,” said Georgie.
When the children got outside the shop, they found that the rain had almost

stopped, but Dorothy carefully put up the umbrella.
“J don’t think we shall want it,” said Georgie; “it’s scarcely raining at all. Shall
we give it back to the old lady?”

“Not until we've finished our shopping,” said Dorothy.

So the children marched along under the big umbrella. Dorothy found it quite
as much as she could manage.

“Oh dear, it is so heavy,” she sighed, after a few minutes.

“Well, put it, down,” said Georgie; “the sun is shining.”

“Perhaps I had better,” said Dorothy.

But it was far more easily said than done, and although both the children tried
their hardest they could not move it.

“Well, we must keep it open,” said Dorothy.

“We can’t go into any shops, then,” said Georgie. “I wish we'd never borrowed iL

“I can hold the umbrella and you can go into the shops, and then you can hold
the umbrella whilst I go into the shops,” said Dorothy. “Here is the sweet-shop—
what shall we get ?”

“Chocolate,” said Georgie.

“All right,” said Dorothy; “take the umbrella and I'll go in and ask.”

Georgie took the umbrella, and Dorothy walked into the shop. ane was a young
woman behind the counter whom Dorothy did not know.

“Have you any chocolate ?” said Dorothy.

“Yes, miss,” said the girl; “chocolate plain, chocolate drops, chocolate almonds,
chocolate creams, chocolate cakes—which will you have ?”

Much to the astonishment of the girl, Dorothy ran out of the shop.

“Georgie, do you like chocolate creams?” she said.

“No,” said Georgie; “but it’s my turn now; you take the umbrella, Dorothy.”

Dorothy took the umbrella, and Georgie marched into the shop.

“I want some chocolate, please,” said Georgie to the girl.

“So did the other one,” said the girl. “How much money have you?”

“A penny,” said Georgie, “only we shall have to—’.

“Georgie!” called Dorothy. And Georgie ran out of the shop.

“Georgie,” said Dorothy, “we must go home. I thought ¢
I saw Mother and Aunt Jeanie.” =i

The girl came to the shop-door.

“Look here,” she said, “do you
want any chocolate? I can’t be bothered
like this. JI don’t believe you've got
any money.”

“We can’t shop now—we are going
home,” said Dorothy.


ad















“She is a cross girl,” said Georgie, as
the girl shut the shop-door with a bang.

«Well, never mind,” said Dorothy.

Once more the two set out in
the sunshine, under the umbrella
that would not shut up.

They were quite pleased when
they reached the china-shop, and
were able to hand it back to the
old lady.

“Where have you been?” said
Sarah as she let the children in at
the side-door. “Go upstairs at once.”

Dorothy looked at Georgie and
nodded, and the nod meant: “They
have come home: we shall get scolded.”

“They must be in Mother’s bed-
room,” said Dorothy. “we'd better
go and tell them all about it.”

“No, don’t tell,’ said
Georgie.

“IT always tell Mother
everything,” said Dorothy.

She began to speak as soon
i as Georgie opened the bed-room
: : j door.

“Mother, we've been shopping: you don’t mind my going out if I tell you,
and you were out.”

Then she stopped, for Georgie was laughing.

The room was empty. Mother and Aunt Jeanie had not come home.

“But they will be back directly, and then we shall have to tell them,” said Dorothy.

“Well, come and look for the penny,” said Georgie.

They went back to the Nursery, and they searched every nook and corner, but
the penny was not to be found.

“T, am sorry I’ve lost it,” said Georgie.

“Well, never mind,” said Dorothy, “we went shopping; only I do wonder what

Mother will say.”
Maggie Brown.
Granny's Bridesmaids.




ES, ’tis a charming picture
Of a time that’s passed away—

A picture of Granny’s sisters,

i> On Granny’s wedding-day.

©) See, from the painted window
Aslant comes a stream of light

On five little waiting fairies

’ Gowned in gossamer white.

Didn't they. wear quaint bonnets !
But the tiny one’s shy face
Has only its dainty framing
Of ribbon and filmy lace.
“Ah, what a pretty darling !”
Folks must have whispered there—
“Never a sweeter angel
Strewed flowers than Baby Clare.”



All of the group are scattered,
So long it is ago;
They are getting old, like Granny,
Except little Clare, you know.
She is walking in God’s own garden,
And the years may pass away,
But she will be young and lovely
As on Granny's wedding-day.
Ellis. Walton.




~~



x, phy :
A so



In Mischief.

NE morning Tommy’s Father and his Aunt, who lived in Africa, were planting
Q) seeds in the kitchen-garden, when Tommy appeared at the top of the steps,
with something held tightly in his arms. =

“There’s Tommy squeezing one of the puppies again,” said his Aunt.

“Tommy, put that puppy. down,” his Father called out.

But he did not move.

“Put that puppy down,” shouted his Father again.

There was a clatter, and out of his arms fell three little condensed tins! In his
little mind there was an indistinct idea that grown-up people were rather stupid some-
times. Why should they call his cans a puppy, and why should he be told to drop them ?

All this excitement made Tommy forget he had meant to build-a castle with the
tins, but he soon became tired of watching the seed-planting, so he wandered towards
the house again.

On his way he passed the Kaffir kitchen-maid, Christina.

“Black Kistina,’ he murmured to himself, looking at her dark face.

Then he went into the nur-
sery, but there were no stairs
to climb, as in Africa the houses
are only built with one storey.

“That you, Master
Tom?” said Nurse from the
next room. ‘Play quietly—
Baby is asleep.”

“Baby fellah s’eep,” he
echoed, and then he peeped
into the cot.

“Baby fellah not
back like Kistina,’ he .
said, gazing at him with

" interest.

“Tam going to the
kitchen for a minute,
MasterTom,’saidNurse,
putting her head in at
the door. “Keep, quiet

?








till I get back.” Tommy grew tired of playing with his tea-set,
and, presently, he took the brush out of the blacklead box,
which was standing in the fireplace, and began blacking his nails.

Suddenly an idea struck him. “Make Baby fellah back like
Kistina,’ he whispered, with a chuckle; and, dragging the pot
to the side of the cot, he daubed large patches on his face,
and on the sheets and pillow too, I am sorry to say.

“Fun,” said Tommy to himself.

Baby’s roars brought Nurse flying from the kitchen, and his
Mother from the drawing-room, and, at their exclamations,
Daddy, who was passing, looked in to see what had happened.

It was a sight. Baby had a big smudge on each cheek
and one over his eye, and two or three on the top of his
bald head. Tommy was almost as black. He stood in the
middle of the room, the picture of guilt.

“Velly solly, Daddy,’ he said cheerfully. .

“That, I am afraid, does not meet the case.”

Tommy looked puzzled.

“Make Baby fellah b’ack like Kistina,” he said.

Daddy suppressed a smile. ‘So I see.”

Tommy eyed him doubtfully. “Whip Tommy?” he said at length.

“No, I shall not whip you this time,” answered his Father.

“Corner, Daddy?” suggested Tommy, brightening.

“Yes, the corner will do. You must stay there for ten minutes.”

At the end of five minutes: “Velly solly, Daddy,” he said again.

“So am I; but there are five minutes more, for you to make up your mind in,
that you will never make Baby fellah black again.” ,

At the end of the next five minutes he was in his Father’s arms, and then, taking
his hand, trotted out cheerfully to see what fresh mischief he could get into.



L. Butt.
)
Babys Hour.
OME away, my little man. - She will rock you, oh so gently,
It is time to take your “nap.” And you'll hold her by the hand
Climb up into your own cradle, © While you drift away so softly

Which is Mammy’s warm snug lap. __. Into far-off “Sleepyland.”


HERE was once a little child called Lily,
she was so fair and graceful. Near her

home was a broad piece of water called
“Lake Beautiful,” and it was her great delight to sail on this lake and pluck the water-
lilies. She would lean over the side of the boat and gaze into. the shining depths, and
listen to the mermaids singing down below, and she would long to be a mermaid too,
and have no tiresome lessons to learn, or nurse to come in at eight o’clock and put
her to bed, when she was so wide-awake. :

One day Lily had been out on the lake, and when she returned home her arms
were full of beautiful water-lilies. These she gave to her Mother, all but one, which
she placed in a vase in her own room. A

That night Lily could not sleep; there was a strange humming noise in the room,
as of a very small voice singing and talking, so at last Lily sat up and looked around
her. She noticed the noise proceeded from the direction of the vase, where she had
placed the water-lily, and, looking towards it, she saw, standing in the centre of the
flower, the most beautiful little fairy imaginable, dressed in white, and wearing a gold
crown studded with diamonds, and so bright were the rays that shot from the precious
stones that the whole room was illuminated. The fairy was singing a low chant, and


waving her exquisitely transparent wings to and fro, keeping time to her singing. This
was the song she sang: —

“Fair little maiden, away we'll flee
To the silvery lake. Oh! come with me,
And you shall learn. how sweet to dwell,
Far under the waves, in the mermaids’ cell.”

Lily listened in astonishment, and when the fairy ceased singing she said: “Pretty
fairy, I should like to be a mermaid, but I do not think I can run away at night,
without saying good-bye to Mother.”

But the fairy anwered her, and said, “Did you not say to-day that you wished
you were a mermaid, with no tiresome lessons to learn ?”

“Yes,” said Lily; “I did.”

“Well, I overheard you,” said the fairy, “and so I have come to fetch you away.
Your name is Lily, like mine; and if you will only come and dwell in our lake, we
will make you happy. Think how pleasant it will be never to have any lessons to
learn, but to play all day long with gold and silver fishes, or to float to the top of
the lake and talk to the water-lily fairies.”

Lily thought it would be very pleasant indeed, but still she could not make up
her mind to leave her Mother; so the fairy lost patience, and said she would waste
no more time arguing, but would fly straight away home. She told the child to open
the window, which she did, and the fairy flew towards it, but, pausing a moment, she
said, “I give you one more chance. If to-morrow you should change your mind, come
to the lake, and when you have sailed right out to the middle, where the large patch
of lilies grows, stretch out your arms to them, and say :—

“ To the silvery.lake away I flee.
For I would learn how sweet to dwell,
Far under the waves, in the mermaids’ cell.’

Then the lilies will take you in their arms and lull you to sleep, and when you awake
you will be a mermaid.”

The fairy kissed her tiny hand to the child, and flew away through the open window.

The next day Lily’s lessons were more trying than ever, or was it, perhaps, Lily
‘herself who was a trifle naughty ? Well, whichever way it was, at the end of the morning
her Mother said to her: “As my little girl has been so careless this morning she must
be punished. There will be no rowing on the bright lake this afternoon, for Lily must
stay in the school-room until her lesson is learned.”

This made Lily very angry, and she stamped and cried with rage, and finally
decided she would run away
and be a mermaid. So off she
ran at once, and, scrambling
into the old boat, floated out
into the middle of the lake.

_ Then she stretched out
her arms, and repeated the
linés the fairy had taught her.
And the lilies lifted their
stately white heads, and folded
their long green arms about
her, and rocked her to sleep.

When she awoke she felt a
little stiff and cramped, and,
looking down, found that her
two pretty little feet had dis-
appeared, and in place of them
she had a tail like a fish, all
eg covered with silver scales.

She felt a little inclined to cry at this, but, turning round, saw close behind
‘her a lovely little mermaid, with a crystal mirror in one hand and a golden comb in
the other. The mermaid smiled sweetly at Lily, and said—

“Now come with me, and we will go together to some quiet nook, and comb our
hair, and have a nice long talk.”

“I would rather play,” said Lily. “I hate to have my hair combed.”

“Qh, you dirty creature!” said the mermaid, and Lily blushed, and felt ashamed
of herself, and added that she had forgotten to bring her comb with her.

“Well, you must have a comb if you are to sive here, or else you be will con-
sidered no better than the fishes; so come with me to Grandmamma and we will
hear what she says.”

They swam along, until they reached a grotto of mother-of-pearl, which Lily
and her friend entered. :

Lily, who had expected to see a very old lady mermaid, was surprised to find
that Grandmamma looked very little older than her grandchild. She had forgotten,
you see, that mermaids never grow old. ,

“Well, Friskey, and what do you want with me?” said Grandmamma. “And
who's your friend ?”

“This is Lily, the new mermaid, who arrived yesterday, and she has forgotten
to bring her comb and glass.”


“Oh, that’s easily remedied,” said Grandmamma. “I have a set to spare, and
will sell them to her for a couple of teeth.”

“What!” screamed Lily, “give you my teeth! No! I'd rather go without the
comb and glass.”

However, by dint of threats and persuasion, she at last consented, and allowed
Grandmamma and Friskey to draw two of her little back teeth, and in exchange
she was presented with a pretty little mirror, like her friend’s, and a golden comb.
She swam away with depressed spirits, for, apart from the pain of having her teeth
drawn, she could not help wondering where she should put her new possessions
when she was not using them, her present costume having no pockets, and she
saw no signs of a dressing-table, like the pretty one in her little room at home,
and on to which she loved to climb to peep at her little face in the looking-glass
which stood on it. For one whole hour Lily had to sit and comb her hair, whilst
she told her curious friend all about home, her Mother, and her friends. At last
they ceased combing, and the mermaid said, “Now we must go, for it is time for
our singing-class.”

Now, that singing-class Lily did enjoy—not that she herself sang much, but
the voices of the other mermaids were so sweet that it was a joy to listen to
them. When the singing was over, they all played “hide-and-seek.” But it was
not nearly such fun as the games at home. Lily was hampered with that glass
and comb, and managed to:scratch one little mermaid with it as she tried to catch
her, and this angered the mermaid, and I am sorry to say she pinched Lily.
Altogether, she felt a mermaid’s life was rather a mistake, and wished she could
go home.

As the days went by, Lily grew more and more discontented, and at last she
became so miserable that she made up her mind to try and escape, but looking
at her scaly tail, she felt she must get rid of that first or her Mother might not
know her again. So she floated up to the patch of water-lilies and told her troubles
to the fairies, and ended by begging to have her feet given her back again, for,
“Oh,” she said, “I do so want to see my Mother—she is better than all the
mermaids in the world.”

“Tt is all the fault of your name,” said the Queen. “If you had been called
Mary Jane I should have left you alone; but, of course, I thought Lily by name,
Lily by nature. However, I will do the best I can under the circumstances.
I cannot make you into a child again, but if-you are quite sure you can no longer
be happy as a mermaid, I will change you into a beautiful white bird, and then
you can fly to your Mother and live near her, and though she may not recognise
her little girl in you, still you can sing to her the sweet songs you have learnt
from the mermaids, and then she will learn to love you.”


Oh! how Lily longed to throw her arms round her Mother’s neck and ask to
be forgiven. As this could not be, she sadly thanked the fairies for their kindness,
and tried to comfort herself with the thought that, any way, she would see her Mother
again.

“I will just say good-bye to Friskey, and then, dear Queen, please make me into
a little white bird.” ,

She sank down to the bottom of the lake, and soon found Friskey, combing her
hair as usual.

“Friskey dear,” she said, “I’ve come to say’ good-bye. The Lily Queen has promised
to change me into a little white bird, and so I am going to fly away and look for
Mother. And, Friskey, will you have
my comb and glass as a keepsake?
though I don’t know what you will do
with them.”

The tears stood in. Friskey’s eyes

as she kissed Lily, and said, “You are
a good little thing, and I hope you will
find your Mother.”
Then with a wave of her hand to Friskey, Lily
floated away. When she reached the fairies once more, the
Qtieen spread her wings, and flew above her head, There,
poised in the air, she commenced to sing :—




“Little white birdie, fly home to thy nest!
Fly, little wand’rer, to Mother's soft breast;
In Mother’s fond arms sweetly thou'lt rest.
Fly home, little birdie, fly home to thy nest!”

As the fairy sang the last line, Lily felt a curious faint sensation steal over her,
and then a delicious sense of freedom, and she commenced to fly upwards.

Oh! this was a thousand times more delightful than being a mermaid. She flew
round and round, just to try her wings, and then, bidding the fairies adieu, she spread
her wings towards the shore to find her Mother. Oh! what pleasure it was to see
the old home again ! She perched on her Mother’s window-sill, and commenced to
sing one of the beautiful songs the mermaids had taught her; but to her astonishment,
no Mother came to listen to her song.

Then she flew to the nursery window. Her two little sisters were in the
room, in their white night-gowns, ready to go to bed. They looked very sad, but
smiled when they saw the pretty white bird, and clapped. their hands; so Lily
flew down to the table and let them stroke her soft plumage. But still there was
no sign of Mother. Then she flew into every room in the house, and at last
stopped by the cage of some little song-birds. ‘Dear birds,” said she, “where is
my Mother?”

“We do not know your Mother, beautiful white bird; but the.Mother of the
house has been taken away to-day, and they have laid her in the churchyard.”

Away flew the bird to the churchyard, but when she reached it, she could
not see her Mother. There was a newly-made grave, covered with some lovely
white lilies. “Ah,” said the bird, “the lilies will tell me, for I am their name-
sake.” So she said, “Dear lilies, have.you seen my Mother?” and the lilies knew
‘her at once, and said: “This is your Mother's grave, but do not grieve, for she
is not here, but God gave her wings like yours, and she has flown away, far, far
up into the sky. If you are not afraid to follow, you.may find her yet.”

“T am afraid of nothing,” said the bird, “if only I can find my Mother.”

Away she flew up, up into the sky, and as she flew, her feathers changed
into pure, white robes, and she felt she was once more little Lily; only the wings
remained, and these seemed to grow larger and stronger, so that she no longer
felt the least weariness or fatigue, but soared above the soft and fleecy clouds till
she reached the blue region beyond; and then she heard faint echoes of most
exquisite singing, that seemed to make her heart rejoice and fill her whole being
with gladness.

On, on she flew, and now she hears her Mothers voice joining in the
heavenly song. Still higher soars the little one, and then—“Ah, Mother, Mother!”
and the little white bird is resting on her Mother's breast in Paradise.

Lucy L. Weedon.

ay NK * Toullaby.
- so7 WO little birdies fly home from the’ west,

Winging in haste to their cosy wee nest.
Lulla-lulla-by.



’ Two little butterflies fold their bright wings ;
Soothing their slumbers a nightingale sings.
Lulla-lulla-by.

Two little violets droop in the glade,
Modestly hiding their heads in the shade.
-Lulla-lulla-by.

Two little bairnies are weary of play;
Sweet be their dreams at the close of the day.
Lulla-lulla-by.

Butterflies, violets, all pretty things,
Peacefully sleep when the nightingale sings.
Lulla-lulla-by.
M. M. Buchanan.
« a

IEA



“Cithout a fQoment’s Delay.”

to Daphne. They had just come up from their morning dip, they ‘were
partly dressed, and Daphne was rubbing Dick’s hair dry for him, like the
good little sister she was.
“Never mind,” she said. “Father will be home soon now. All sorts of things
are always happening to him, so he will have lots to tell us.”
“That’s jolly, of course,” Dick said; “but it’s not at all the same thing.”
Dick and Daphne and Eddy and Dolly and Baby and Binkie were all staying
at the seaside with their Aunt, till Father should come home from beyond the

seas, where he had gone to make their fortunes.

me WISH something would happen to us, something out of a book,” said Dick
Aunt Jane was kind in her way, but she had never had a baby of her very
own; so she did not understand everything, and thought lots of things wrong which
never seemed so to the children.

“She seems to think it as wicked to forget to brush your hair as it is to tell a
lie,” Dick used to say.

“I wish Father would come now—this minute,’ said Daphne sadly, rubbing
Dick’s head so hard that he could hardly hear what she said; and Binkie whined
a little, partly from sympathy, and partly because he was very wet and rather cold.

“It’s no use wishing,’ said Dick. “Come on, Binkie,’ and he jumped up, and
ran down to the edge of the sea, and began to throw stones and sticks in for
Binkie, who brought them out now and then—just to oblige his master.

- At last Dick threw a curious stone with seaweed growing on it. Away went
Binkie after it. The stone lodged on a bit of rock covered with sea-weed. Binkie
gave up the chase.

“What a jolly little rock,” said Daphne. “Let’s wade out and get on it.”

“And we'll get back that funny stone with the sea-weed,” said Dick.

So out they went. But when Dick put his hand down among the sea-weed
it touched something hard and round, and not at all like any stone. He picked
it up, and then, “Oh, Daff!” he cried; “here zs an adventure—a real one”; for what
he had picked up was a large glass bottle that was lying on the soft sea-weed.
He had read tales enough to know what this meant.

It seemed long to the children before they had waded through the shallow
water to the beach, and sat down to examine their treasure. _A piece of bladder
was tied over the top of the bottle. Dick got this off and prised out the cork
with his pocket-knife. Inside was a thin roll, also fastened up in bladder. They
got it out and opened it, with their hearts beating loudly. Inside there was
a paper.

“IT knew there would be,’ cried Dick. “Oh! Daff, something has happened
—this is just like the books.”

This is what was on the paper :—

“The passengers, crew, and officers of the ‘Britomart’ are wrecked on an island.
[Here followed some letters and figures the children could not understand.] There
is no food but what we saved from the ship, and we must starve if assistance
does not reach us before many weeks. Whoever finds this is earnestly entreated by
us all to take or send it, WITHOUT A MOMENT’S DELAY, @o the Occidental Navigation.
Company, Fenchurch-street. Have pity!—there are women and children among us.
Any delay may cost their lives.”

The children, white and wet-eyed, looked at each other.
“Oh, poor, poor things!” cried Daphne. “What shall we do?”

“T don’t know,” said Dick; “I must think. Daff, dear, you mustn't say a word
to anyone. We'll go home to dinner now—we must—and after dinner we'll see.”

“Won't you tell Auntie?”

“Nor? said Dick steadily. “She's so silly, she’d think we'd made it up. i‘

So they went to find the others, who were building a sand-castle, and glonous,
enthroning Baby upon it.

That dinner was dreadful. Never had hashed mutton and rice pudding seemed
so dull.

“You don’t seem well, Daphne,” said her Aunt. “Perhaps you had better go
to bed after dinner. You may be sickening for something.”

After that the rice pudding began to disappear at a great rate, Daphie Sxbiaining
between the mouthfuls that she was “quite all right.”

After dinner Dick drew her into his bedroom, as they went up to put on
their hats for “the beach”—Aunt Jane’s only idea of amusement.

“Daff,” he said earnestly, “we must take this up to London.’ Daphne opened
her eyes very round and wide.

“To London?” she said.

“Yes. Now, don’t be frightened. There’s a train in half an hour. Get on your
best things, and we'll slip out, now that Aunt Jane’s having her ‘forty winks’ after
dinner. She'll give us bread-and-water for a week afterwards—but never mind.”

“But couldn’t we send it by telegraph?” asked Daphne.

“There isn’t any telegraph in Sandyside, stupid,” said Dick, and, full of the
excitement of his adventure, he was very glad to be able to say it. “You know
what it said:—‘without a moment’s delay,” he went on.

And Daphne, fired by the sight of his bravery, said, “Oh, Dick, it must be right!
Perhaps we are saving the lives of the ladies and the poor little children.”

They broke open their money-boxes—there was plenty of money in them, for
they were saving up to buy a pony—and though the man looked rather curiously .
at the two little figures who wanted “two half-returns to London, please,’ yet he
did not stop them; and presently the train steamed out of Sandyside Station, bearing
with it Dick and Daphne and the destinies of the “crew, passengers, and officers
of the ‘Britomart.’”

It seemed a long journey, and Daphne cried a little, but: Dick cheered her
‘up as well as he could. But when they got to the big, crowded London station
even Dick hardly knew what to do. .

‘Let us get into a hansom,” suggested Daphne; “that’s what Father does ‘when
he’s in a hurry.”

“And we are in a hurry—‘not a moment’s delay,’” said Dick, as res Sob in.




(crviag i

1895
SY E/WISTE

A Big Wave.

















The hansom set them down at the doors o. a
large handsome building in Fenchurch-Street, which
seemed all swing-doors and glass plates.

The clerks stared curiously at the children as

Dick stepped forward.

“Please,” he said, “I want
to see the Occidental Navigation
Company.”

“What! all of it?’ said the
clerk, laughing. But the anxiety
in the little face touched him.

~ What is it?” he asked,

Then Dick began his tale—
but at the name of the ‘Britomart’
‘4. the clerk came from behind his
counter, and led the children
ee =~ oe, on to an inner room.

“News of the ‘Brito-
mart, sir,’ he said, and
a white-haired gentleman
looked up quickly. Then
the children—both _half-
crying with fatigue and ex-
citement—told their story,
and showed the bottle and
‘letter. The old gentleman read the latter eagerly, and then he held out his hand.

“Upon my word, sir,’ he said to Dick, “youre a man. You've saved their
lives. One of our ships leaves dock to-night. If you'd waited to write, she would
have sailed before I got your letter; and I could not have chartered another to
start for several days.”

“And if we'd telegraphed?” said Daphne timidly.

“If you'd telegraphed, my dear, I should have thought it was a hoax.”

He touched his bell. “Here, Thompson, see these children home—wherever it
is—and explain to their people.” And with that he hurried off to send help to
those shipwrecked folk—“without a moment’s delay.”

Thompson, the clerk who had first seen them, did take them home, and petted
and made much of them; and so won on Aunt Jane by his account of what they
had done, that there was never the slightest mention of bread-and-water.

* * * * * *
Six weeks later Dick and Daphne were playing desert islands. They always |
played it on the rock where they had found the bottle, and as there was only
just room for them to stand, it was not easy.

A voice hailed them from the shore.

“It is Mather!” they cried, and the next minute they were hanging on his neck.

“Where did you get that gold watch, my boy?” said his father, later.

“From the Occidental Navigation Company,’ said Dick proudly, “and Daff has,
one too.” Then he told his Father the story. His Father listened quietly, and then
he said, “If there had been ‘a moment’s delay’ I should not have been here. Our
provisions were all gone.”

“Then were you——?” cried the children.

“Yes,” said he, holding them closer to him. “JZ was a passenger on board the

‘Britomart.’”
, £2. Nesbit.

The Iwo Ihiffle Bears.

AC CE upon a time there were two little brown bears. One was a nice, good
little bear; the other was a cross, surly little bear.
One day, when these two bears were out together, the cross little bear
said to his brother:

“Go to the baker’s shop, and buy two buns fe our dinner, while I wait for
you in this field.”

So the good little bear went, for he
always did what he was told. But as he
came out of the baker's shop, a rough little
boy ran up, and snatched the buns from him. —

The little bear cried. He could not buy
any more buns, because he had spent all the
money he had. So he went back to_ his.
brother in the field:

“Where are the buns?” snieied the cross
little bear. ;

“A naughty boy took them away from
me,” replied the good little bear.

“Nonsense!” cried the cross bear; “do you
expect me to believe that? No! ‘You have.


eaten both buns yourself.
Nasty, greedy little thing !”
And the cross little bear
boxed the good little bear’s
ears.

The good little bear
turned away, crying. He.
wandered out of the field,
and walked sadly along
a road.

Presently he met a
pretty little girl, who held:
in her hand a golden collar

oe and a golden chain.
“What a dear, wee
bear!” exclaimed she. “You
sweet little thing! Will
you come and live with me,,
and be my little bear?”

“Oh, yes,” replied the
good little bear eagerly.
“I should like that very

_ much indeed.”

Then the little girl fastened the golden collar around the little bear's neck,
and led him by the golden chain to her beautiful home.

Here he had cakes and sweets every day. He was petted and caressed, and was,
very happy.

But the cross little bear, walking along another road, met a cross-looking man,
who held in his hand an iron collar and a heavy iron chain.

“Aha!” laughed the man, when he saw the bear. “This is just the fellow for
me! I will take him and teach him to dance, so that I may get pennies.”

Then the man put the iron collar around the cross little bear's neck, and led
him by the iron chain to his miserable home.

The poor bear had to go out every day to dance in the streets, and get
pennies for the cross man. This made him very tired. He got little food, but!
plenty of kicks and blows.

So the nice little bear lived with the nice little girl, and the cross little bear
lived with the cross man.



Ee D,


AA Vhrisfmas Guest.

UPPOSIX_G we were sitting,
One cosy Christmas night,
Close round the blazing: fire,
And the lamps were burning bright.

With Mother in the middle,
And Baby on her knee,

And all of us as merry
And as happy as could be.

Suppose we heard a knocking,
Of some one at the gate,

Who prayed that they might enter,
Although it was so late;

Some beggar asking shelter,
Because the night was cold,
And want, and care, and trouble

Had made him very bold.

And we would cry, “Ah, Mother,
The beggar must not stay,

It is so nice and cosy,
And this. is Christmas Day !

“Tell them to give him something,
For he is wet with snow.

We do not want to see him;
Just tell him he must go!”

And supposing Mother hushed us,
_ Put Baby on the floor,

-And went along the passage,

And opened wide the door;

And on the threshold standing,
In garments wet and thin,

Supposing there was really
The Christ-Child looking in!

Just think how we should wonder
His tender eyes to meet,

And pray of Him to enter,
And warm His shining feet!


It makes you very gentle
In speaking to the poor,

To think some day the Christ-Child
May stand outside your door.

It makes you very anxious And He may say to Mother:
To give the poor your Jest, “You loved my poor, you see,

To feel some day the Christ-Child And what you did to others,
May be your Christmas guest. Was always done to Me!”

Geraldine R. Glasgow.
Two Title Kriends.

€ meant no harm—he never did, and he loved Dolly; so he
clambered up on the wall, and looked over.

“What are you doing, Dolly ?” he said.

Dolly was so busy she could hardly look up.

“Ym making my baby into a black child,” she said. “1
found the stuff on the box Nurse does the fire-grate with,
and it’s lovely.”

“You might stop now,” he said, “and come and sit up

here on the wall beside me.”

“Oh, I’m too busy,” Dolly said. “I’m pretending my baby doesn’t want to be
black, and she’s screaming, and making a dreadful fuss, but it’s for her good—that’s
what Nurse says to me.”

_ “Oh, Nurses all say that,’ he said. “But I don’t believe it’s really true. If your
Nurse came this minute, I'd say to her, ‘Nurse, you are not fe /

“Miss. Dolly !” said Nurse’s voice. “Wherever is that child? Oh, here you are,
missy, and messing with my blacklead! Well, I never! Into the fire your doll goes
as soon as ever we get home! As to you, Master Dick, get off that wall directly.”

“Yes,” said Dick meekly.

“I tell you for your good,” said Nurse. “You'll get a bad fall some day.”

“I’m getting down,” said Dick hurriedly. ‘Good-bye, Dolly.”

Geraldine R. Glasgow.





FA lsitfle Soldier.

LITTLE china soldier
A On a little bracket stands,
And he holds a little gun
In his little china hands.

But whether it is loaded
I really cannot say,
For he never pulls the trigger,
And I hope he never may.
M. H. Browne.