Summarize the following text to main points and sub-points and make detailed explain for them:

ng with questioning dread at the 
smooth red surface of the water. The cold drops stood on his brow. How 
long had she been out? There was one hope—that she had crept through 
the stile and got into the fields, where he habitually took her to stroll. But 
the grass was high in the meadow, and there was no descrying her, if she 
were there, except by a close search that would be a trespass on Mr. 
Osgood's crop. Still, that misdemeanour must be committed; and poor 
Silas, after peering all round the hedgerows, traversed the grass, 
beginning with perturbed vision to see Eppie behind every group of red 
sorrel, and to see her moving always farther off as he approached. The 
meadow was searched in vain; and he got over the stile into the next 
field, looking with dying hope towards a small pond which was now 
reduced to its summer shallowness, so as to leave a wide margin of good 
adhesive mud. Here, however, sat Eppie, discoursing cheerfully to her 
own small boot, which she was using as a bucket to convey the water into 
a deep hoof-mark, while her little naked foot was planted comfortably on 
a cushion of olive-green mud. A red-headed calf was observing her with 
alarmed doubt through the opposite hedge. 
Here was clearly a case of aberration in a christened child which 
demanded severe treatment; but Silas, overcome with convulsive joy at 
finding his treasure again, could do nothing but snatch her up, and cover 
her with half-sobbing kisses. It was not until he had carried her home, 
and had begun to think of the necessary washing, that he recollected the 
need that he should punish Eppie, and "make her remember". The idea 
that she might run away again and come to harm, gave him unusual 
resolution, and for the first time he determined to try the coal-hole—a 
small closet near the hearth. 
"Naughty, naughty Eppie," he suddenly began, holding her on his knee, 
and pointing to her muddy feet and clothes—"naughty to cut with the 
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scissors and run away. Eppie must go into the coal-hole for being 
naughty. Daddy must put her in the coal-hole." 
He half-expected that this would be shock enough, and that Eppie would 
begin to cry. But instead of that, she began to shake herself on his knee, 
as if the proposition opened a pleasing novelty. Seeing that he must 
proceed to extremities, he put her into the coal-hole, and held the door 
closed, with a trembling sense that he was using a strong measure. For a 
moment there was silence, but then came a little cry, "Opy, opy!" and 
Silas let her out again, saying, "Now Eppie 'ull never be naughty again, 
else she must go in the coal-hole—a black naughty place." 
The weaving must stand still a long while this morning, for now Eppie 
must be washed, and have clean clothes on; but it was to be hoped that 
this punishment would have a lasting effect, and save time in future—
though, perhaps, it would have been better if Eppie had cried more. 
In half an hour she was clean again, and Silas having turned his back to 
see what he could do with the linen band, threw it down again, with the 
reflection that Eppie would be good without fastening for the rest of the 
morning. He turned round again, and was going to place her in her little 
chair near the loom, when she peeped out at him with black face and 
hands again, and said, "Eppie in de toal-hole!" 
This total failure of the coal-hole discipline shook Silas's belief in the 
efficacy of punishment. "She'd take it all for fun," he observed to Dolly, 
"if I didn't hurt her, and that I can't do, Mrs. Winthrop. If she makes me 
a bit o' trouble, I can bear it. And she's got no tricks but what she'll grow 
out of." 
"Well, that's partly true, Master Marner," said Dolly, sympathetically; 
"and if you can't bring your mind to frighten her off touching things, you 
must do what you can to keep 'em out of her way. That's what I do wi' the 
pups as the lads are allays a-rearing. They will worry and gnaw—worry 
and gnaw they will, if it was one's Sunday cap as hung anywhere so as 
they could drag it. They know no difference, God help 'em: it's the 
pushing o' the teeth as sets 'em on, that's what it is." 
So Eppie was reared without punishment, the burden of her misdeeds 
being borne vicariously by father Silas. The stone hut was made a soft 
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nest for her, lined with downy patience: and also in the world that lay 
beyond the stone hut she knew nothing of frowns and denials. 
Notwithstanding the difficulty of carrying her and his yarn or linen at the 
same time, Silas took her with him in most of his journeys to the 
farmhouses, unwilling to leave her behind at Dolly Winthrop's, who was 
always ready to take care of her; and little curly-headed Eppie, the 
weaver's child, became an object of interest at several outlying 
homesteads, as well as in the village. Hitherto he had been treated very 
much as if he had been a useful gnome or brownie—a queer and 
unaccountable creature, who must necessarily be looked at with 
wondering curiosity and repulsion, and with whom one would be glad to 
make all greetings and bargains as brief as possible, but who must be 
dealt with in a propitiatory way, and occasionally have a present of pork 
or garden stuff to carry home with him, seeing that without him there 
was no getting the yarn woven. But now Silas met with open smiling 
faces and cheerful questioning, as a person whose satisfactions and 
difficulties could be understood. Everywhere he must sit a little and talk 
about the child, and words of interest were always ready for him: "Ah, 
Master Marner, you'll be lucky if she takes the measles soon and easy!"—
or, "Why, there isn't many lone men 'ud ha' been wishing to take up with 
a little un like that: but I reckon the weaving makes you handier than 
men as do out-door work—you're partly as handy as a woman, for 
weaving comes next to spinning."  
Elderly masters and mistresses, seated observantly in large kitchen arm-
chairs, shook their heads over the difficulties attendant on rearing 
children, felt Eppie's round arms and legs, and pronounced them 
remarkably firm, and told Silas that, if she turned out well (which, 
however, there was no telling), it would be a fine thing for him to have a 
steady lass to do for him when he got helpless. Servant maidens were 
fond of carrying her out to look at the hens and chickens, or to see if any 
cherries could be shaken down in the orchard; and the small boys and 
girls approached her slowly, with cautious movement and steady gaze, 
like little dogs face to face with one of their own kind, till attraction had 
reached the point at which the soft lips were put out for a kiss.  
No child was afraid of approaching Silas when Eppie was near him: there 
was no repulsion around him now, either for young or old; for the little 
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child had come to link him once more with the whole world. There was 
love between him and the child that blent them into one, and there was 
love between the child and the world—from men and women with 
parental looks and tones, to the red lady-birds and the round pebbles. 
Silas began now to think of Raveloe life entirely in relation to Eppie: she 
must have everything that was a good in Raveloe; and he listened 
docilely, that he might come to understand better what this life was, 
from which, for fifteen years, he had stood aloof as from a strange thing, 
with which he could have no communion: as some man who has a 
precious plant to which he would give a nurturing home in a new soil, 
thinks of the rain, and the sunshine, and all influences, in relation to his 
nursling, and asks industriously for all knowledge that will help him to 
satisfy the wants of the searching roots, or to guard leaf and bud from 
invading harm.  
The disposition to hoard had been utterly crushed at the very first by the 
loss of his long-stored gold: the coins he earned afterwards seemed as 
irrelevant as stones brought to complete a house suddenly buried by an 
earthquake; the sense of bereavement was too heavy upon him for the 
old thrill of satisfaction to arise again at the touch of the newly-earned 
coin. And now something had come to replace his hoard which gave a 
growing purpose to the earnings, drawing his hope and joy continually 
onward beyond the money. 
In old days there were angels who came and took men by the hand and 
led them away from the city of destruction. We see no white-winged 
angels now. But yet men are led away from threatening destruction: a 
hand is put into theirs, which leads them forth gently towards a calm and 
bright land, so that they look no more backward; and the hand may be a 
little child's. 
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CHAPTER 15 
 
There was one person, as you will believe, who watched with keener 
though more hidden interest than any other, the prosperous growth of 
Eppie under the weaver's care. He dared not do anything that would 
imply a stronger interest in a poor man's adopted child than could be 
expected from the kindlines

Summary :