Perez turquesa painting
Perez two drinkers painting
Perez Two for Tango painting
Perez untilteled III painting
It ain't a lie, auntie; it's the truth. I wanted to keep you from grieving -- that was all that made me come."
"I'd give the whole world to believe that -- it would cover up a power of sins, Tom. I'd 'most be glad you'd run off and acted so bad. But it ain't reasonable; because, why didn't you tell me, child?"
-193-
"Why, you see, when you got to talking about the funeral, I just got all full of the idea of our coming and hiding in the church, and I couldn't somehow bear to spoil it. So I just put the bark back in my pocket and kept mum."
"What bark?"
"The bark I had wrote on to tell you we'd gone pirating. I wish, now, you'd waked up when I kissed you -- I do, honest."
The hard lines in his aunt's face relaxed and a sudden tenderness dawned in her eyes.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Perez passion flame painting
Perez passion flame painting
Perez perez ruby painting
Perez portrait of lucy painting
Perez princess diaries I painting
Why, Wednesday night I dreamt that you was sitting over there by the bed, and Sid was sitting by the woodbox, and Mary next to him."
"Well, so we did. So we always do. I'm glad
-180-your dreams could take even that much trouble about us."
"And I dreamt that Joe Harper's mother was here."
"Why, she was here! Did you dream any more?"
"Oh, lots. But it's so dim, now."
"Well, try to recollect -- can't you?"
"Somehow it seems to me that the wind -- the wind blowed the -- the -- "
"Try harder, Tom! The wind did blow something. Come!"
Tom pressed his fingers on his forehead an anxious minute, and then said:
"I've got it now! I've got it now! It blowed the candle!"
Perez perez ruby painting
Perez portrait of lucy painting
Perez princess diaries I painting
Why, Wednesday night I dreamt that you was sitting over there by the bed, and Sid was sitting by the woodbox, and Mary next to him."
"Well, so we did. So we always do. I'm glad
-180-your dreams could take even that much trouble about us."
"And I dreamt that Joe Harper's mother was here."
"Why, she was here! Did you dream any more?"
"Oh, lots. But it's so dim, now."
"Well, try to recollect -- can't you?"
"Somehow it seems to me that the wind -- the wind blowed the -- the -- "
"Try harder, Tom! The wind did blow something. Come!"
Tom pressed his fingers on his forehead an anxious minute, and then said:
"I've got it now! I've got it now! It blowed the candle!"
Perez love of tango painting
Perez love of tango painting
Perez luciana at calles painting
Perez luciana at the balcony painting
Perez Lucianan Camila painting
there was no hilarity in the little town that same tranquil Saturday afternoon. The Harpers, and Aunt Polly's family, were being put into mourning, with great grief and many tears. An unusual quiet possessed the village, although it was ordinarily quiet enough, in all conscience. The villagers conducted their concerns with an absent air, and talked little; but they sighed often. The Saturday holiday seemed a burden to the children. They had no heart in their sports, and gradually gave them up.
In the afternoon Becky Thatcher found herself moping about the deserted schoolhouse yard, and feeling very melancholy. But she found nothing there to comfort her. She soliloquized:
"Oh, if I only had a brass andiron-knob again! But I haven't got anything now to remember him by." And she choked back a little sob.
Presently she stopped, and said to herself:
Perez luciana at calles painting
Perez luciana at the balcony painting
Perez Lucianan Camila painting
there was no hilarity in the little town that same tranquil Saturday afternoon. The Harpers, and Aunt Polly's family, were being put into mourning, with great grief and many tears. An unusual quiet possessed the village, although it was ordinarily quiet enough, in all conscience. The villagers conducted their concerns with an absent air, and talked little; but they sighed often. The Saturday holiday seemed a burden to the children. They had no heart in their sports, and gradually gave them up.
In the afternoon Becky Thatcher found herself moping about the deserted schoolhouse yard, and feeling very melancholy. But she found nothing there to comfort her. She soliloquized:
"Oh, if I only had a brass andiron-knob again! But I haven't got anything now to remember him by." And she choked back a little sob.
Presently she stopped, and said to herself:
painting in oil
painting in oil
village, he started quartering across and bent himself stoutly to his work. He hit the landing on the other side neatly, for this was a familiar bit of work to him. He was moved to capture the skiff, arguing that it might be considered a ship and therefore legitimate prey for a pirate, but he knew a thorough search would be made for it and that might end in revelations. So he stepped ashore and entered the woods.
He sat down and took a long rest, torturing himself meanwhile to keep awake, and then started warily down the home-stretch. The night was far spent. It was broad daylight before he found himself fairly
-159-abreast the island bar. He rested again until the sun was well up and gilding the great river with its splendor, and then he plunged into the stream. A little later he paused, dripping, upon the threshold of the camp, and heard Joe say:
"No, Tom's true-blue, Huck, and he'll come back. He won't desert. He knows that would be a disgrace to a pirate, and Tom's too proud for that sort of thing. He's up to something or other. Now I wonder what?"
village, he started quartering across and bent himself stoutly to his work. He hit the landing on the other side neatly, for this was a familiar bit of work to him. He was moved to capture the skiff, arguing that it might be considered a ship and therefore legitimate prey for a pirate, but he knew a thorough search would be made for it and that might end in revelations. So he stepped ashore and entered the woods.
He sat down and took a long rest, torturing himself meanwhile to keep awake, and then started warily down the home-stretch. The night was far spent. It was broad daylight before he found himself fairly
-159-abreast the island bar. He rested again until the sun was well up and gilding the great river with its splendor, and then he plunged into the stream. A little later he paused, dripping, upon the threshold of the camp, and heard Joe say:
"No, Tom's true-blue, Huck, and he'll come back. He won't desert. He knows that would be a disgrace to a pirate, and Tom's too proud for that sort of thing. He's up to something or other. Now I wonder what?"
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida paintings
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida paintings
Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot paintings
James Childs paintings
John Singleton Copley paintings
memories of unkindness to these poor lost lads were rising up, and unavailing regrets and remorse were being indulged; and best of all, the departed were the talk of the whole town, and the envy of all the boys, as far as this dazzling notoriety was concerned. This was fine. It was worth while to be a pirate, after all.
As twilight drew on, the ferryboat went back to her accustomed business and the skiffs disappeared. The pirates returned to camp. They were jubilant with vanity over their new grandeur and the illustrious trouble they were making. They caught fish,
-151-cooked supper and ate it, and then fell to guessing at what the village was thinking and saying about them; and the pictures they drew of the public distress on their account were gratifying to look upon -- from their point of view. But when the shadows of night closed them in, they gradually ceased to talk, and sat gazing into the fire, with their minds evidently wandering elsewhere. The excitement was gone, now, and Tom and Joe could not keep back thoughts of certain persons at home who were not enjoying this fine frolic as much as they were. Misgivings came; they grew troubled and unhappy; a sigh or two
Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot paintings
James Childs paintings
John Singleton Copley paintings
memories of unkindness to these poor lost lads were rising up, and unavailing regrets and remorse were being indulged; and best of all, the departed were the talk of the whole town, and the envy of all the boys, as far as this dazzling notoriety was concerned. This was fine. It was worth while to be a pirate, after all.
As twilight drew on, the ferryboat went back to her accustomed business and the skiffs disappeared. The pirates returned to camp. They were jubilant with vanity over their new grandeur and the illustrious trouble they were making. They caught fish,
-151-cooked supper and ate it, and then fell to guessing at what the village was thinking and saying about them; and the pictures they drew of the public distress on their account were gratifying to look upon -- from their point of view. But when the shadows of night closed them in, they gradually ceased to talk, and sat gazing into the fire, with their minds evidently wandering elsewhere. The excitement was gone, now, and Tom and Joe could not keep back thoughts of certain persons at home who were not enjoying this fine frolic as much as they were. Misgivings came; they grew troubled and unhappy; a sigh or two
Thursday, May 29, 2008
famous painting
famous painting
watched him, and felt a new sort of shyness steal over her, for he was changed, and she could not find the merry-faced boy she left in the moody-looking man beside her. He was handsomer than ever and greatly improved, she thought, but now that the flush of pleasure at meeting her was over, he looked tired and spiritless -- not sick, nor exactly unhappy, but older and graver than a year or two of prosperous life should have made him. She couldn't understand it and did not venture to ask questions, so she shook her head and touched up her ponies, as the procession wound away across the arches of the Paglioni bridge and vanished in the church.
"Que pensez-vous?" she said, airing her French, which had improved in quantity, if not in quality, since she came abroad.
"That mademoiselle has made good use of her time, and the result is charming," replied Laurie, bowing with his hand on his heart and an admiring look.
watched him, and felt a new sort of shyness steal over her, for he was changed, and she could not find the merry-faced boy she left in the moody-looking man beside her. He was handsomer than ever and greatly improved, she thought, but now that the flush of pleasure at meeting her was over, he looked tired and spiritless -- not sick, nor exactly unhappy, but older and graver than a year or two of prosperous life should have made him. She couldn't understand it and did not venture to ask questions, so she shook her head and touched up her ponies, as the procession wound away across the arches of the Paglioni bridge and vanished in the church.
"Que pensez-vous?" she said, airing her French, which had improved in quantity, if not in quality, since she came abroad.
"That mademoiselle has made good use of her time, and the result is charming," replied Laurie, bowing with his hand on his heart and an admiring look.
Guercino paintings
Guercino paintings
Howard Behrens paintings
Henri Fantin-Latour paintings
Horace Vernet paintings
When the parting came he affected high spirits, to conceal certain inconvenient emotions which seemed inclined to assert themselves. This gaiety did not impose upon anybody, but they tried to look as if it did for his sake, and he got on very well till Mrs. March kissed him, whit a whisper full of motherly solicitude. Then feeling that he was going very fast, he hastily embraced them all round, not forgetting the afflicted Hannah, and ran downstairs as if for his life. Jo followed a minute after to wave her hand to him if he looked round. He did look round, came back, put his arms about her as she stood on the step above him, and looked up at her with a face that made his short appeal eloquent and pathetic.
"Oh, Jo, can't you?"
"Teddy, dear, I wish I could!"
That was all, except a little pause. Then Laurie straightened himself up, said, "It's all right, never mind," and went away without another word. Ah, but it wasn't all right, and Jo did
Howard Behrens paintings
Henri Fantin-Latour paintings
Horace Vernet paintings
When the parting came he affected high spirits, to conceal certain inconvenient emotions which seemed inclined to assert themselves. This gaiety did not impose upon anybody, but they tried to look as if it did for his sake, and he got on very well till Mrs. March kissed him, whit a whisper full of motherly solicitude. Then feeling that he was going very fast, he hastily embraced them all round, not forgetting the afflicted Hannah, and ran downstairs as if for his life. Jo followed a minute after to wave her hand to him if he looked round. He did look round, came back, put his arms about her as she stood on the step above him, and looked up at her with a face that made his short appeal eloquent and pathetic.
"Oh, Jo, can't you?"
"Teddy, dear, I wish I could!"
That was all, except a little pause. Then Laurie straightened himself up, said, "It's all right, never mind," and went away without another word. Ah, but it wasn't all right, and Jo did
Renoir Mixed Flowers In An Earthware Pot painting
Renoir Mixed Flowers In An Earthware Pot painting
Cole View on the Catskill - Early Autumn painting
Cole Genesee Scenery painting
Cole Home in the Woods painting
That speech was like gunpowder. Laurie looked at her a minute as if he did not quite know what to do with himself, then turned sharply away, saying in a desperate sort of tone, "You'll be sorry some day, Jo."
"Oh, where are you going?" she cried, for his face frightened her.
"To the devil!" was the consoling answer.
For a minute Jo's heart stood still, as he swung himself down the bank toward the river, but it takes much folly, sin or misery to send a young man to a violent death, and Laurie was not one of the weak sort who are conquered by a single failure. He had no thought of a melodramatic plunge, but some blind instinct led him to fling hat and coat into his boat, and row away with all his might, making better time up the river than he had done in any race. Jo drew a long breath and unclasped her hands as she watched the poor fellow trying to outstrip the trouble which he carried in his heart.
Cole View on the Catskill - Early Autumn painting
Cole Genesee Scenery painting
Cole Home in the Woods painting
That speech was like gunpowder. Laurie looked at her a minute as if he did not quite know what to do with himself, then turned sharply away, saying in a desperate sort of tone, "You'll be sorry some day, Jo."
"Oh, where are you going?" she cried, for his face frightened her.
"To the devil!" was the consoling answer.
For a minute Jo's heart stood still, as he swung himself down the bank toward the river, but it takes much folly, sin or misery to send a young man to a violent death, and Laurie was not one of the weak sort who are conquered by a single failure. He had no thought of a melodramatic plunge, but some blind instinct led him to fling hat and coat into his boat, and row away with all his might, making better time up the river than he had done in any race. Jo drew a long breath and unclasped her hands as she watched the poor fellow trying to outstrip the trouble which he carried in his heart.
Robinson Bridge near Giverny painting
Robinson Bridge near Giverny painting
Dupre Returning From the Fields painting
Dupre The Harvesters painting
Dupre The Wheatfield painting
I think I haven't done much harm yet, and may keep this to pay for my time," she said, after a long meditation, adding impatiently, "I almost wish I hadn't any conscience, it's so inconvenient. If I didn't care about doing right, and didn't feel uncomfortable when doing wrong, I should get on capitally. I can't help wishing sometimes, that Mother and Father hadn't been so particular about such things."
Ah, Jo, instead of wishing that, thank God that `Father and Mother were particular'. and pity from your heart those who have no such guardians to hedge them round with principles which may seem like prison walls to impatient youth, but which will prove sure foundations to build character upon in womanhood.
Jo wrote no more sensational stories, deciding that the money did not pay for her share of the sensation, but going to the other extreme, as is the way with people of her stamp, she took a course of Mrs. Sherwood, Miss Edgeworth, and Hannah More, and then produced a tale which might have been more properly called an essay or a sermon, so intensely moral
Dupre Returning From the Fields painting
Dupre The Harvesters painting
Dupre The Wheatfield painting
I think I haven't done much harm yet, and may keep this to pay for my time," she said, after a long meditation, adding impatiently, "I almost wish I hadn't any conscience, it's so inconvenient. If I didn't care about doing right, and didn't feel uncomfortable when doing wrong, I should get on capitally. I can't help wishing sometimes, that Mother and Father hadn't been so particular about such things."
Ah, Jo, instead of wishing that, thank God that `Father and Mother were particular'. and pity from your heart those who have no such guardians to hedge them round with principles which may seem like prison walls to impatient youth, but which will prove sure foundations to build character upon in womanhood.
Jo wrote no more sensational stories, deciding that the money did not pay for her share of the sensation, but going to the other extreme, as is the way with people of her stamp, she took a course of Mrs. Sherwood, Miss Edgeworth, and Hannah More, and then produced a tale which might have been more properly called an essay or a sermon, so intensely moral
Robinson World's Columbian Exposition painting
Robinson World's Columbian Exposition painting
Cassatt Children Playing On The Beach painting
Pissarro Sunlight on the Road - Pontoise painting
Robinson The Ship Yard painting
Before the evening was half over, Jo felt so completely disillusioned, that she sat down in a corner to recover herself. Mr. Bhaer soon joined her, looking rather out of his element, and presently several of the philosophers, each mounted on his hobby, came ambling up to hold an intellectual tournament in the recess. The conversations were miles beyond Jo's comprehension, but she enjoyed it, though Kant and Hegel were unknown gods, the Subjective and Objective unintelligible terms, and the only thing `evolved from her inner consciousness' was a bad headache after it was all over. It dawned upon her gradually that the world was being picked to pieces, and put together on new and, according to the talkers, on infinitely better principles than before, that religion was in a fair way to be reasoned into nothingness, and intellect was to be the only God. Jo knew nothing about philosophy or metaphysics of any sort, but a curious excitement, half pleasurable, half painful, came over her as she listened with a sense of being turned adrift into time and space, like a young balloon out on a holiday.
She looked round to see how the Professor liked it, and found him looking at her with the grimest expression she had ever seen him wear. He shook his head and beckoned her to come
Cassatt Children Playing On The Beach painting
Pissarro Sunlight on the Road - Pontoise painting
Robinson The Ship Yard painting
Before the evening was half over, Jo felt so completely disillusioned, that she sat down in a corner to recover herself. Mr. Bhaer soon joined her, looking rather out of his element, and presently several of the philosophers, each mounted on his hobby, came ambling up to hold an intellectual tournament in the recess. The conversations were miles beyond Jo's comprehension, but she enjoyed it, though Kant and Hegel were unknown gods, the Subjective and Objective unintelligible terms, and the only thing `evolved from her inner consciousness' was a bad headache after it was all over. It dawned upon her gradually that the world was being picked to pieces, and put together on new and, according to the talkers, on infinitely better principles than before, that religion was in a fair way to be reasoned into nothingness, and intellect was to be the only God. Jo knew nothing about philosophy or metaphysics of any sort, but a curious excitement, half pleasurable, half painful, came over her as she listened with a sense of being turned adrift into time and space, like a young balloon out on a holiday.
She looked round to see how the Professor liked it, and found him looking at her with the grimest expression she had ever seen him wear. He shook his head and beckoned her to come
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Robert Campin paintings
Robert Campin paintings
Rembrandt paintings
Raphael paintings
Salvador Dali paintings
"He'll laugh," said Amy warningly.
"Who cares?" said Jo.
"I guess he'll like it," added Beth.
"Of course I shall! I give you my word I won't laugh. Tell away, Jo, and don't be afraid."
"The idea of being afraid of you! Well, you see we used to play Pilgrim's Progress, and we have been going on with it in earnest, all winter and summer."
"Yes, I know," said Laurie, nodding wisely.
"Who told you?" demanded Jo.
"Spirits."
"No, I did. I wanted to amuse him one night when you were all away, and he was rather dismal. He did like it, so don't scold, Jo," said Beth meekly.
"You can't keep a secret. Never mind, it saves trouble now."
"Go on, please," said Laurie, as Jo became absorbed in her work, looking a trifle displeased.Oh, didn't she tell you about this new plan of ours? Well, we have tried not to waste our holiday, but each has had a task and worked at it with a will. The vacation is nearly over, the stints are all done, and we are ever so glad that we didn't dawdle."
Rembrandt paintings
Raphael paintings
Salvador Dali paintings
"He'll laugh," said Amy warningly.
"Who cares?" said Jo.
"I guess he'll like it," added Beth.
"Of course I shall! I give you my word I won't laugh. Tell away, Jo, and don't be afraid."
"The idea of being afraid of you! Well, you see we used to play Pilgrim's Progress, and we have been going on with it in earnest, all winter and summer."
"Yes, I know," said Laurie, nodding wisely.
"Who told you?" demanded Jo.
"Spirits."
"No, I did. I wanted to amuse him one night when you were all away, and he was rather dismal. He did like it, so don't scold, Jo," said Beth meekly.
"You can't keep a secret. Never mind, it saves trouble now."
"Go on, please," said Laurie, as Jo became absorbed in her work, looking a trifle displeased.Oh, didn't she tell you about this new plan of ours? Well, we have tried not to waste our holiday, but each has had a task and worked at it with a will. The vacation is nearly over, the stints are all done, and we are ever so glad that we didn't dawdle."
Joan Miro paintings
Joan Miro paintings
Jean-Honore Fragonard paintings
Jehan Georges Vibert paintings
Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot paintings
I forgot that English people rather turn up their noses at governesses and don't treat them as we do," said Meg, looking after the retreating figure with an annoyed expression.
"Tutors also have rather a hard time of it there, as I know to my sorrow. There's no place like America for us workers, Miss Margaret." And Mr. Brooke looked so contented and cheerful that Meg was ashamed to lament her hard lot.
"I'm glad I live in it then. I don't like my work, but I get a good deal of satisfaction out of it after all, so I won't complain. I only wished I liked teaching as you do."
"I think you would if you had Laurie for a pupil. I shall be very sorry to lose him next year," said Mr. Brooke, busily punching holes in the turf.
"Going to college, I suppose?" Meg's lips asked the question, but her eyes added, "And what becomes of you?"
"Yes, it's high time he went, for he is ready, and as soon as he is off, I shall turn soldier. I am needed."
Jean-Honore Fragonard paintings
Jehan Georges Vibert paintings
Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot paintings
I forgot that English people rather turn up their noses at governesses and don't treat them as we do," said Meg, looking after the retreating figure with an annoyed expression.
"Tutors also have rather a hard time of it there, as I know to my sorrow. There's no place like America for us workers, Miss Margaret." And Mr. Brooke looked so contented and cheerful that Meg was ashamed to lament her hard lot.
"I'm glad I live in it then. I don't like my work, but I get a good deal of satisfaction out of it after all, so I won't complain. I only wished I liked teaching as you do."
"I think you would if you had Laurie for a pupil. I shall be very sorry to lose him next year," said Mr. Brooke, busily punching holes in the turf.
"Going to college, I suppose?" Meg's lips asked the question, but her eyes added, "And what becomes of you?"
"Yes, it's high time he went, for he is ready, and as soon as he is off, I shall turn soldier. I am needed."
Albert Bierstadt paintings
Albert Bierstadt paintings
Andreas Achenbach paintings
Alphonse Maria Mucha paintings
Benjamin Williams Leader paintings
"One person begins a story, any nonsense you like, and tells as long as he pleases, only taking care to stop short at some exciting point, when the next takes it up and does the same. It's very funny when well done, and makes a perfect jumble of tragical comical stuff to laugh over. Please start it, Mr. Brooke," said Kate, with a commanding air, which surprised Meg, who treated the tutor with as much respect as any other gentleman.
Lying on the grass at the feet of the two young ladies, Mr. Brooke obediently began the story, with the handsome brown eyes steadily fixed upon the sunshiny river.
"Once on a time, a knight went out into the world to seek his fortune, for he had nothing but his sword and his shield. He traveled a long while, nearly eight-and-twenty years, and had a hard time of it, till he came to the palace of a good old king, who had offered a reward to anyone who could tame and train a fine but unbroken colt, of which he was very fond. The knight agreed to try, and got on slowly but surely, for the colt was a gallant fellow, and soon learned to love his new master, though he was freakish and wild. Every day, when he gave
Andreas Achenbach paintings
Alphonse Maria Mucha paintings
Benjamin Williams Leader paintings
"One person begins a story, any nonsense you like, and tells as long as he pleases, only taking care to stop short at some exciting point, when the next takes it up and does the same. It's very funny when well done, and makes a perfect jumble of tragical comical stuff to laugh over. Please start it, Mr. Brooke," said Kate, with a commanding air, which surprised Meg, who treated the tutor with as much respect as any other gentleman.
Lying on the grass at the feet of the two young ladies, Mr. Brooke obediently began the story, with the handsome brown eyes steadily fixed upon the sunshiny river.
"Once on a time, a knight went out into the world to seek his fortune, for he had nothing but his sword and his shield. He traveled a long while, nearly eight-and-twenty years, and had a hard time of it, till he came to the palace of a good old king, who had offered a reward to anyone who could tame and train a fine but unbroken colt, of which he was very fond. The knight agreed to try, and got on slowly but surely, for the colt was a gallant fellow, and soon learned to love his new master, though he was freakish and wild. Every day, when he gave
painting in oil
painting in oil
Jo gave the thin cheek a grateful kiss, more precious to Mrs. March than if it had given back the rosy roundness of her youth.
"I had a box of chocolate drops, and the picture I wanted to copy," said Amy, showing her mail.
"And I got a note from Mr. Laurence, asking me to come over and play to him tonight, before the lamps are lighted, and I shall go," added Beth, whose friendship with the old gentleman prospered finely.
"Now let's fly round, and do double duty today, so that we can play tomorrow with free minds," said Jo, preparing to replace her pen with a broom.
When the sun peeped into the girls' room early next morning to promise them a fine day, he saw a comical sight. Each had made such preparation for the fete as seemed necessary and proper. Meg had an extra row of little curlpapers across her forehead, Jo had copiously anointed her afflicted face with cold cream, Beth had taken Joanna to bed with her to atone for the
Jo gave the thin cheek a grateful kiss, more precious to Mrs. March than if it had given back the rosy roundness of her youth.
"I had a box of chocolate drops, and the picture I wanted to copy," said Amy, showing her mail.
"And I got a note from Mr. Laurence, asking me to come over and play to him tonight, before the lamps are lighted, and I shall go," added Beth, whose friendship with the old gentleman prospered finely.
"Now let's fly round, and do double duty today, so that we can play tomorrow with free minds," said Jo, preparing to replace her pen with a broom.
When the sun peeped into the girls' room early next morning to promise them a fine day, he saw a comical sight. Each had made such preparation for the fete as seemed necessary and proper. Meg had an extra row of little curlpapers across her forehead, Jo had copiously anointed her afflicted face with cold cream, Beth had taken Joanna to bed with her to atone for the
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Andrea Mantegna paintings
Andrea Mantegna paintings
Arthur Hughes paintings
Albert Bierstadt paintings
At this moment a slight rustling was heard behind the fir trees. It was Peter, who had just arrived. He had made a long round, having seen from the distance who it was standing beside Uncle in front of the hut, and he was trying to slip by unobserved. But grandmamma had seen and recognized him, and suddenly the thought struck her that it might be Peter who had brought the flowers and that he was now trying to get away unseen, feeling shy about it; but she could not let him go off like that, he must have some little reward.
"Come along, boy; come here, do not be afraid," she called to him.
Peter stood still, petrified with fear. After all he had gone through that day he felt he had no longer any power of resistance left. All he could think was, "It's all up with me now." Every hair of his head stood on end, and he stepped forth from behind the fir trees, his face pale and distorted with terror.
Arthur Hughes paintings
Albert Bierstadt paintings
At this moment a slight rustling was heard behind the fir trees. It was Peter, who had just arrived. He had made a long round, having seen from the distance who it was standing beside Uncle in front of the hut, and he was trying to slip by unobserved. But grandmamma had seen and recognized him, and suddenly the thought struck her that it might be Peter who had brought the flowers and that he was now trying to get away unseen, feeling shy about it; but she could not let him go off like that, he must have some little reward.
"Come along, boy; come here, do not be afraid," she called to him.
Peter stood still, petrified with fear. After all he had gone through that day he felt he had no longer any power of resistance left. All he could think was, "It's all up with me now." Every hair of his head stood on end, and he stepped forth from behind the fir trees, his face pale and distorted with terror.
Robert Campin paintings
Robert Campin paintings
Rembrandt paintings
Raphael paintings
Salvador Dali paintings
My dear Uncle! my dear Uncle! how much we have to thank you for! It is all your doing! it is your caring and nursing -- -- "
"And God's good sun and mountain air," he interrupted her, smiling.
"Yes, and don't forget the beautiful milk I have," put in Clara. "Grandmamma, you can't think what a quantity of goat's milk I drink, and how nice it is!"
"I can see that by your cheeks, child," answered grandmamma. "I really should not have known you; you have grown quite strong and plump, and taller too; I never hoped or expected to see you look like that. I cannot take my eyes off you, for I can hardly yet believe it. But now I must telegraph without delay to my son in Paris, and tell him he must come here at once. I shall not say why; it will be the greatest happiness he has ever known. My dear Uncle, how can I send a telegram; have you dismissed the men yet?"
"They have gone," he answered, "but if you are in a hurry I will fetch Peter, and he can take it for you."
Grandmamma thanked him, for she was anxious that the good news should not be kept from her son a day longer
Rembrandt paintings
Raphael paintings
Salvador Dali paintings
My dear Uncle! my dear Uncle! how much we have to thank you for! It is all your doing! it is your caring and nursing -- -- "
"And God's good sun and mountain air," he interrupted her, smiling.
"Yes, and don't forget the beautiful milk I have," put in Clara. "Grandmamma, you can't think what a quantity of goat's milk I drink, and how nice it is!"
"I can see that by your cheeks, child," answered grandmamma. "I really should not have known you; you have grown quite strong and plump, and taller too; I never hoped or expected to see you look like that. I cannot take my eyes off you, for I can hardly yet believe it. But now I must telegraph without delay to my son in Paris, and tell him he must come here at once. I shall not say why; it will be the greatest happiness he has ever known. My dear Uncle, how can I send a telegram; have you dismissed the men yet?"
"They have gone," he answered, "but if you are in a hurry I will fetch Peter, and he can take it for you."
Grandmamma thanked him, for she was anxious that the good news should not be kept from her son a day longer
Joseph Mallord William Turner paintings
Joseph Mallord William Turner paintings
Julien Dupre paintings
Julius LeBlanc Stewart paintings
Jeffrey T.Larson paintings
There it lay, the thing he had wanted to see. Scattered about the grass were the remains of Clara's chair; part of the back and the middle bit, and enough of the red padding and the bright nails to show how magnificent the chair had been when it was entire.
"I was here when the men passed carrying it up," said the baker who was standing near Peter. "I'll bet any one that it was worth twenty-five pounds at least. I cannot think how such an accident could have happened."
"Uncle said the wind might perhaps have done it," remarked one of the women, who could not sufficiently admire the red upholstery.
"It's a good job that no one but the wind did it," said the baker again, "or he might smart for it! No doubt the gentleman in Frankfurt when he hears what has happened will make all inquiries about it. I am glad for myself that I have not been seen up the
Julien Dupre paintings
Julius LeBlanc Stewart paintings
Jeffrey T.Larson paintings
There it lay, the thing he had wanted to see. Scattered about the grass were the remains of Clara's chair; part of the back and the middle bit, and enough of the red padding and the bright nails to show how magnificent the chair had been when it was entire.
"I was here when the men passed carrying it up," said the baker who was standing near Peter. "I'll bet any one that it was worth twenty-five pounds at least. I cannot think how such an accident could have happened."
"Uncle said the wind might perhaps have done it," remarked one of the women, who could not sufficiently admire the red upholstery.
"It's a good job that no one but the wind did it," said the baker again, "or he might smart for it! No doubt the gentleman in Frankfurt when he hears what has happened will make all inquiries about it. I am glad for myself that I have not been seen up the
William Blake paintings
William Blake paintings
Winslow Homer paintings
William Bouguereau paintings
Have no fear, grandmother," said Uncle in a reassuring voice, "I shall not punish either you or myself by doing so. We are all together now, and pray God we may continue so for long."
Brigitta now drew the Uncle aside towards a corner of the room and showed him the hat with the feathers, explaining to him how it came there, and adding that of course she could not take such a thing from a child.
But the grandfather looked towards Heidi without any displeasure of countenance and said, "The hat is hers, and if she does not wish to wear it any more she has a right to say so and to give it to you, so take it, pray."
-215-
Brigitta was highly delighted at this. "It is well worth more than ten shillings!" she said as she held it up for further admiration. "And what a blessing Heidi has brought home with her from Frankfurt! I have thought sometimes that it might be good to send Peter there for a little while; what do you think, Uncle?"
A merry look came into the grandfather's eye. He thought it would do Peter no harm, but he had better wait for a good opportunity before starting. At this moment the subject of their
Winslow Homer paintings
William Bouguereau paintings
Have no fear, grandmother," said Uncle in a reassuring voice, "I shall not punish either you or myself by doing so. We are all together now, and pray God we may continue so for long."
Brigitta now drew the Uncle aside towards a corner of the room and showed him the hat with the feathers, explaining to him how it came there, and adding that of course she could not take such a thing from a child.
But the grandfather looked towards Heidi without any displeasure of countenance and said, "The hat is hers, and if she does not wish to wear it any more she has a right to say so and to give it to you, so take it, pray."
-215-
Brigitta was highly delighted at this. "It is well worth more than ten shillings!" she said as she held it up for further admiration. "And what a blessing Heidi has brought home with her from Frankfurt! I have thought sometimes that it might be good to send Peter there for a little while; what do you think, Uncle?"
A merry look came into the grandfather's eye. He thought it would do Peter no harm, but he had better wait for a good opportunity before starting. At this moment the subject of their
Monday, May 26, 2008
Louise Abbema paintings
Louise Abbema paintings
Leonardo da Vinci paintings
Lord Frederick Leighton paintings
Mark Rothko paintings
and then I will read it you, and you will see how beautiful it is." And in her eagerness Heidi struggled faster and faster up the steep ascent, and they were no sooner at the top than she let go her grandfather's hand and ran into the hut. The grandfather slung the basket off his shoulders in which he had brought up a part of the contents of the trunk which was too heavy to carry up as it was. Then he sat down on his seat and began thinking.
Heidi soon came running out with her book under her arm. "That's right, grandfather," she exclaimed as she saw he had already taken his seat, and in a second she was beside him and had her book open at the particular tale, for she had read it so often that the leaves fell open at it of their own accord. And now in a sympathetic voice Heidi began to read of the son when he was happily at home, and went out into the fields with his father's flocks, and was dressed in a fine cloak, and stood leaning on his shepherd's staff watching as the sun went down, just as he was to be seen in the picture. But then all at once he wanted to have his own goods and money and to be his own master, and so he asked his father to give him his portion, and he left his home and went and wasted all his substance. And when he had nothing left he hired himself out to a master who had no flocks and fields like his father, but only swine to
Leonardo da Vinci paintings
Lord Frederick Leighton paintings
Mark Rothko paintings
and then I will read it you, and you will see how beautiful it is." And in her eagerness Heidi struggled faster and faster up the steep ascent, and they were no sooner at the top than she let go her grandfather's hand and ran into the hut. The grandfather slung the basket off his shoulders in which he had brought up a part of the contents of the trunk which was too heavy to carry up as it was. Then he sat down on his seat and began thinking.
Heidi soon came running out with her book under her arm. "That's right, grandfather," she exclaimed as she saw he had already taken his seat, and in a second she was beside him and had her book open at the particular tale, for she had read it so often that the leaves fell open at it of their own accord. And now in a sympathetic voice Heidi began to read of the son when he was happily at home, and went out into the fields with his father's flocks, and was dressed in a fine cloak, and stood leaning on his shepherd's staff watching as the sun went down, just as he was to be seen in the picture. But then all at once he wanted to have his own goods and money and to be his own master, and so he asked his father to give him his portion, and he left his home and went and wasted all his substance. And when he had nothing left he hired himself out to a master who had no flocks and fields like his father, but only swine to
Eugene de Blaas paintings
Eugene de Blaas paintings
Eduard Manet paintings
Edwin Austin Abbey paintings
Edward Hopper paintings
on the grass at her feet; she looked back again -- she had not remembered how splendid it was, nor seen anything to compare to it in her dreams -- for there the two high mountain peeks rose into the air like two great flames, the whole snow-field had turned crimson, and rosy-colored clouds floated in the sky above. The grass upon the mountain sides had turned to gold, the rocks were all aglow, and the whole valley was bathed in golden mist. And as Heidi stood gazing around her at all this splendor the tears ran down her cheeks for very delight and happiness, and impulsively she put her hands together, and lifting her eyes to heaven, thanked God aloud for having brought her home, thanked Him that everything was as beautiful as ever, more beautiful even than she had thought, and that it was all hers again once more." And she was so overflowing with joy and thankfulness that she could not find words to thank Him enough. Not until the glory began to fade could she tear herself away. Then she ran on so quickly that in a very little while she caught sight of the tops of the fir trees above the hut roof, then the roof itself, and at last the whole hut, and there was grandfather sitting as in old days smoking
Eduard Manet paintings
Edwin Austin Abbey paintings
Edward Hopper paintings
on the grass at her feet; she looked back again -- she had not remembered how splendid it was, nor seen anything to compare to it in her dreams -- for there the two high mountain peeks rose into the air like two great flames, the whole snow-field had turned crimson, and rosy-colored clouds floated in the sky above. The grass upon the mountain sides had turned to gold, the rocks were all aglow, and the whole valley was bathed in golden mist. And as Heidi stood gazing around her at all this splendor the tears ran down her cheeks for very delight and happiness, and impulsively she put her hands together, and lifting her eyes to heaven, thanked God aloud for having brought her home, thanked Him that everything was as beautiful as ever, more beautiful even than she had thought, and that it was all hers again once more." And she was so overflowing with joy and thankfulness that she could not find words to thank Him enough. Not until the glory began to fade could she tear herself away. Then she ran on so quickly that in a very little while she caught sight of the tops of the fir trees above the hut roof, then the roof itself, and at last the whole hut, and there was grandfather sitting as in old days smoking
Theodore Chasseriau paintings
Theodore Chasseriau paintings
Ted Seth Jacobs paintings
Vincent van Gogh paintings
Vittore Carpaccio paintings
put Heidi in the carriage. Fräulein Rottenmeier was waiting at the top of the stairs to say good-bye to her. When she caught sight of the strange little red bundle, she took it out of the basket and threw it on the ground. "No, no, Adelaide," she exclaimed, "you cannot leave the house with that thing. What can you possibly want with it!" And then she said good-bye to the child. Heidi did not dare take up her little bundle, but she gave the master of the house an imploring look, as if her greatest treasure had been taken from her.
"No, no," said Herr Sesemann in a very decided voice, "the child shall take home with her whatever
-186-she likes, kittens and tortoises, if it pleases her; we need not put ourselves out about that, Fräulein Rottenmeier."
Heidi quickly picked up her bundle, with a look of joy and gratitude. As she stood by the carriage door, Herr Sesemann gave her his hand and said he hoped she would remember him and Clara. He wished her a happy journey, and Heidi thanked him for all his kindness, and added, "And please say good-bye to the doctor for me and give him many, many thanks." For
Ted Seth Jacobs paintings
Vincent van Gogh paintings
Vittore Carpaccio paintings
put Heidi in the carriage. Fräulein Rottenmeier was waiting at the top of the stairs to say good-bye to her. When she caught sight of the strange little red bundle, she took it out of the basket and threw it on the ground. "No, no, Adelaide," she exclaimed, "you cannot leave the house with that thing. What can you possibly want with it!" And then she said good-bye to the child. Heidi did not dare take up her little bundle, but she gave the master of the house an imploring look, as if her greatest treasure had been taken from her.
"No, no," said Herr Sesemann in a very decided voice, "the child shall take home with her whatever
-186-she likes, kittens and tortoises, if it pleases her; we need not put ourselves out about that, Fräulein Rottenmeier."
Heidi quickly picked up her bundle, with a look of joy and gratitude. As she stood by the carriage door, Herr Sesemann gave her his hand and said he hoped she would remember him and Clara. He wished her a happy journey, and Heidi thanked him for all his kindness, and added, "And please say good-bye to the doctor for me and give him many, many thanks." For
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Carl Fredrik Aagard paintings
Carl Fredrik Aagard paintings
Caravaggio paintings
Claude Lorrain paintings
Claude Monet paintings
Dorothy told the Witch all her story: how the cyclone had brought her to the Land of Oz, how she had found her companions, and of the wonderful adventures they had met with.
"My greatest wish now," she added, "is to get back to Kansas, for Aunt Em will surely think something dreadful has happened to me, and that will make her put on mourning; and unless the crops are better this year than they were last, I am sure Uncle Henry cannot afford it."
Glinda leaned forward and kissed the sweet, upturned face of the loving little girl.
"Bless your dear heart," she said, "I am sure I can tell you of a way to get back to Kansas." Then she added, "But, if I do, you must give me the Golden Cap."
"Willingly!" exclaimed Dorothy; "indeed, it is of no use to me now, and when you have it you can command the Winged Monkeys three times."
"And I think I shall need their service just those three times," answered Glinda, smiling.
Dorothy then gave her the Golden Cap, and the Witch said to the Scarecrow, "What will you do when Dorothy has left us?"
Caravaggio paintings
Claude Lorrain paintings
Claude Monet paintings
Dorothy told the Witch all her story: how the cyclone had brought her to the Land of Oz, how she had found her companions, and of the wonderful adventures they had met with.
"My greatest wish now," she added, "is to get back to Kansas, for Aunt Em will surely think something dreadful has happened to me, and that will make her put on mourning; and unless the crops are better this year than they were last, I am sure Uncle Henry cannot afford it."
Glinda leaned forward and kissed the sweet, upturned face of the loving little girl.
"Bless your dear heart," she said, "I am sure I can tell you of a way to get back to Kansas." Then she added, "But, if I do, you must give me the Golden Cap."
"Willingly!" exclaimed Dorothy; "indeed, it is of no use to me now, and when you have it you can command the Winged Monkeys three times."
"And I think I shall need their service just those three times," answered Glinda, smiling.
Dorothy then gave her the Golden Cap, and the Witch said to the Scarecrow, "What will you do when Dorothy has left us?"
Robert Campin paintings
Robert Campin paintings
Rembrandt paintings
Raphael paintings
Salvador Dali paintings
"If Oz had taken a dose of the same courage he gave me," added the Lion, "he would have been a brave man."
Dorothy said nothing. Oz had not kept the promise he made her, but he had done his best, so she forgave him. As he said, he was a good man, even if he was a bad Wizard.
The first day's journey was through the green fields and bright flowers that stretched about the Emerald City on every side. They slept that night on the grass, with nothing but the stars over them; and they rested very well indeed.
In the morning they traveled on until they came to a thick wood. There was no way of going around it, for it seemed to extend to the right and left as far as they could see; and, besides, they did not dare change the direction of their journey for fear of getting lost. So they looked for the place where it would be easiest to get into the forest. The Scarecrow, who was in the lead, finally discovered a big tree with such wide-spreading branches that there was room for the party to pass underneath. So he walked forward to the tree, but just as he came under the first branches they bent down and twined around him, and the next minute he was raised from the ground and flung headlong among his fellow travelers.
Rembrandt paintings
Raphael paintings
Salvador Dali paintings
"If Oz had taken a dose of the same courage he gave me," added the Lion, "he would have been a brave man."
Dorothy said nothing. Oz had not kept the promise he made her, but he had done his best, so she forgave him. As he said, he was a good man, even if he was a bad Wizard.
The first day's journey was through the green fields and bright flowers that stretched about the Emerald City on every side. They slept that night on the grass, with nothing but the stars over them; and they rested very well indeed.
In the morning they traveled on until they came to a thick wood. There was no way of going around it, for it seemed to extend to the right and left as far as they could see; and, besides, they did not dare change the direction of their journey for fear of getting lost. So they looked for the place where it would be easiest to get into the forest. The Scarecrow, who was in the lead, finally discovered a big tree with such wide-spreading branches that there was room for the party to pass underneath. So he walked forward to the tree, but just as he came under the first branches they bent down and twined around him, and the next minute he was raised from the ground and flung headlong among his fellow travelers.
Edmund Blair Leighton paintings
Edmund Blair Leighton paintings
Eugene de Blaas paintings
Eduard Manet paintings
Edwin Austin Abbey paintings
"Well, I'll tell you what I think," said the little man. "You see, when I came to this country it was in a balloon. You also came through the air, being carried by a cyclone. So I believe the best way to get across the desert will be through the air. Now, it is quite beyond my powers to make a cyclone; but I've been thinking the matter over, and I believe I can make a balloon."
"How?" asked Dorothy.
"A balloon," said Oz, "is made of silk, which is coated with glue to keep the gas in it. I have plenty of silk in the Palace, so it will be no trouble to make the balloon. But in all this country there is no gas to fill the balloon with, to make it float." If it won't float," remarked Dorothy, "it will be of no use to us."
"True," answered Oz. "But there is another way to make it float, which is to fill it with hot air. Hot air isn't as good as gas, for if the air should get cold the balloon would come down in the desert, and we should be lost."
"We!" exclaimed the girl. "Are you going with me?"
Eugene de Blaas paintings
Eduard Manet paintings
Edwin Austin Abbey paintings
"Well, I'll tell you what I think," said the little man. "You see, when I came to this country it was in a balloon. You also came through the air, being carried by a cyclone. So I believe the best way to get across the desert will be through the air. Now, it is quite beyond my powers to make a cyclone; but I've been thinking the matter over, and I believe I can make a balloon."
"How?" asked Dorothy.
"A balloon," said Oz, "is made of silk, which is coated with glue to keep the gas in it. I have plenty of silk in the Palace, so it will be no trouble to make the balloon. But in all this country there is no gas to fill the balloon with, to make it float." If it won't float," remarked Dorothy, "it will be of no use to us."
"True," answered Oz. "But there is another way to make it float, which is to fill it with hot air. Hot air isn't as good as gas, for if the air should get cold the balloon would come down in the desert, and we should be lost."
"We!" exclaimed the girl. "Are you going with me?"
John Everett Millais paintings
John Everett Millais paintings
James Jacques Joseph Tissot paintings
Jules Joseph Lefebvre paintings
Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres paintings
The princess was angry, and she knew, of course, who did it. She had all the Winged Monkeys brought before her, and she said at first that their wings should be tied and they should be treated as they had treated Quelala, and dropped in the river. But my grandfather pleaded hard, for he knew the Monkeys would drown in the river with their wings tied, and Quelala said a kind word for them also; so that Gayelette finally spared them, on condition that the Winged Monkeys should ever after do three times the bidding of the owner of the Golden Cap. This Cap had been made for a wedding present to Quelala, and it is said to have cost the princess half her kingdom. Of course my grandfather and all the other Monkeys at once agreed to the condition, and that is how it happens that we are three times the slaves of the owner of the Golden Cap, whosoever he may be."
"And what became of them?" asked Dorothy, who had been greatly interested in the story.
James Jacques Joseph Tissot paintings
Jules Joseph Lefebvre paintings
Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres paintings
The princess was angry, and she knew, of course, who did it. She had all the Winged Monkeys brought before her, and she said at first that their wings should be tied and they should be treated as they had treated Quelala, and dropped in the river. But my grandfather pleaded hard, for he knew the Monkeys would drown in the river with their wings tied, and Quelala said a kind word for them also; so that Gayelette finally spared them, on condition that the Winged Monkeys should ever after do three times the bidding of the owner of the Golden Cap. This Cap had been made for a wedding present to Quelala, and it is said to have cost the princess half her kingdom. Of course my grandfather and all the other Monkeys at once agreed to the condition, and that is how it happens that we are three times the slaves of the owner of the Golden Cap, whosoever he may be."
"And what became of them?" asked Dorothy, who had been greatly interested in the story.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Charles Chaplin paintings
Charles Chaplin paintings
Diane Romanello paintings
Diego Rivera paintings
Don Li-Leger paintings
very carefully, with his eyes on the road, and when he saw a tiny ant toiling by he would step over it, so as not to harm it. The Tin Woodman knew very well he had no heart, and therefore he took great care never to be cruel or unkind to anything.
"You people with hearts," he said, "have something to guide you, and need never do wrong; but I have no heart, and so I must be very careful. When Oz gives me a heart of course I needn't mind so much." They were obliged to camp out that night under a large tree in the forest, for there were no houses near. The tree made a good, thick covering to protect them from the dew, and the Tin Woodman chopped a great pile of wood with his axe and Dorothy built a splendid fire that warmed her and made her feel less lonely. She and Toto ate the last of their bread, and now she did not know what they would do for breakfast.
"If you wish," said the Lion, "I will go into the forest and kill a deer for you. You can roast it by the fire, since your tastes are so peculiar that you prefer cooked food, and then you will have a very good breakfast."
"Don't! Please don't," begged the Tin Woodman. "I should certainly weep if you killed a poor deer, and then my jaws would rust again."
Diane Romanello paintings
Diego Rivera paintings
Don Li-Leger paintings
very carefully, with his eyes on the road, and when he saw a tiny ant toiling by he would step over it, so as not to harm it. The Tin Woodman knew very well he had no heart, and therefore he took great care never to be cruel or unkind to anything.
"You people with hearts," he said, "have something to guide you, and need never do wrong; but I have no heart, and so I must be very careful. When Oz gives me a heart of course I needn't mind so much." They were obliged to camp out that night under a large tree in the forest, for there were no houses near. The tree made a good, thick covering to protect them from the dew, and the Tin Woodman chopped a great pile of wood with his axe and Dorothy built a splendid fire that warmed her and made her feel less lonely. She and Toto ate the last of their bread, and now she did not know what they would do for breakfast.
"If you wish," said the Lion, "I will go into the forest and kill a deer for you. You can roast it by the fire, since your tastes are so peculiar that you prefer cooked food, and then you will have a very good breakfast."
"Don't! Please don't," begged the Tin Woodman. "I should certainly weep if you killed a poor deer, and then my jaws would rust again."
Friday, May 23, 2008
Patrick Devonas paintings
Patrick Devonas paintings
Peder Mork Monsted paintings
Pierre Auguste Renoir paintings
Peder Severin Kroyer paintings
would be entertaining itself with pestering and aggravating the boy, who would be proclaiming himself king, as usual. Then Miles Hendon would cripple some of those people, and carry off his little ward, and comfort and cheer him with loving words, and the two would never be separated any more.
So Miles started on his quest. Hour after hour he tramped through back alleys and squalid streets, seeking groups and crowds, and finding no end of them, but never any sign of the boy. This greatly surprised him, but did not discourage him. To his notion, there was nothing the matter with his plan of campaign; the only miscalculation about it was that the campaign was becoming a lengthy one, whereas he had expected it to be short. When daylight arrived at last, he had made many a mile, and canvassed many a crowd, but the only result was that he was tolerably tired, rather hungry, and very sleepy. He wanted some breakfast, but there was no way to get it. To beg for it did not occur to him; as to pawning his sword, he would as soon have thought of parting with his honor; he could spare some of his clothes-yes, but one could as easily find a customer for a disease as for such clothes.
Peder Mork Monsted paintings
Pierre Auguste Renoir paintings
Peder Severin Kroyer paintings
would be entertaining itself with pestering and aggravating the boy, who would be proclaiming himself king, as usual. Then Miles Hendon would cripple some of those people, and carry off his little ward, and comfort and cheer him with loving words, and the two would never be separated any more.
So Miles started on his quest. Hour after hour he tramped through back alleys and squalid streets, seeking groups and crowds, and finding no end of them, but never any sign of the boy. This greatly surprised him, but did not discourage him. To his notion, there was nothing the matter with his plan of campaign; the only miscalculation about it was that the campaign was becoming a lengthy one, whereas he had expected it to be short. When daylight arrived at last, he had made many a mile, and canvassed many a crowd, but the only result was that he was tolerably tired, rather hungry, and very sleepy. He wanted some breakfast, but there was no way to get it. To beg for it did not occur to him; as to pawning his sword, he would as soon have thought of parting with his honor; he could spare some of his clothes-yes, but one could as easily find a customer for a disease as for such clothes.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
oil painting from picture
oil painting from picture
Now a bandage was passed under the sleeper's chin and brought up over his head and tied fast-and so softly, so gradually, and so deftly were the knots drawn together and compacted, that the boy slept peacefully through it all without stirring.The old man glided away, stooping, stealthily, catlike, and brought the low bench. He seated himself upon it, half his body in the dim and flickering light, and the other half in shadow; and so, with his craving eyes bent upon the slumbering boy, he kept his patient vigil there, heedless of the drift of time, and softly whetted his knife, and mumbled and chuckled; and in aspect and attitude he resembled nothing so much as a grizzly, monstrous spider, gloating over some hapless insect that lay bound and helpless in his web.
After a long while, the old man, who was still gazing-yet not seeing, his mind having settled into a dreamy abstraction-observed on a sudden that the boy's eyes were open-wide open and staring!-staring up in frozen horror at the knife. The smile of a gratified devil crept over the old man's face, and he said, without changing his attitude or occupation:
"Son of Henry the Eighth, hast thou prayed?"
Now a bandage was passed under the sleeper's chin and brought up over his head and tied fast-and so softly, so gradually, and so deftly were the knots drawn together and compacted, that the boy slept peacefully through it all without stirring.The old man glided away, stooping, stealthily, catlike, and brought the low bench. He seated himself upon it, half his body in the dim and flickering light, and the other half in shadow; and so, with his craving eyes bent upon the slumbering boy, he kept his patient vigil there, heedless of the drift of time, and softly whetted his knife, and mumbled and chuckled; and in aspect and attitude he resembled nothing so much as a grizzly, monstrous spider, gloating over some hapless insect that lay bound and helpless in his web.
After a long while, the old man, who was still gazing-yet not seeing, his mind having settled into a dreamy abstraction-observed on a sudden that the boy's eyes were open-wide open and staring!-staring up in frozen horror at the knife. The smile of a gratified devil crept over the old man's face, and he said, without changing his attitude or occupation:
"Son of Henry the Eighth, hast thou prayed?"
Ted Seth Jacobs paintings
Ted Seth Jacobs paintings
Vincent van Gogh paintings
Vittore Carpaccio paintings
Warren Kimble paintings We, forsooth! Follow thy trade-it befits thee. But I will not beg."
"Thou"lt not beg!" exclaimed Hugo, eying the king with surprise. "Prithee, since when hast thou reformed?"
"What dost thou mean?"
"Mean? Hast thou not begged the streets of London all thy life?"
"I? Thou idiot!" "Spare thy compliments-thy stock will last longer. Thy father says thou hast begged all thy days. Mayhap he lied. Peradventure you will even make so bold as to say he lied," scoffed Hugo.
"Him you call my father? Yes, he lied."
"Come, play not thy merry game of madman so far, mate; use it for thy amusement, not thy hurt. An I tell him this, he will scorch thee finely for it."
"Save thyself the trouble. I will tell him." "I like thy spirit, I do in truth; but I do not admire thy judgment. Bone-rackings and bastings be plenty enow in this life, without going out of one's way to invite them. But a truce to these matters; I believe your father. I doubt not he can lie; I doubt not he doth lie, upon occasion, for the best of us do that; but there is no occasion here. A wise man does not waste so good a commodity as lying for naught. But come; sith it is thy humor to give over begging, wherewithal shall we busy ourselves? With robbing kitchens?"
Vincent van Gogh paintings
Vittore Carpaccio paintings
Warren Kimble paintings We, forsooth! Follow thy trade-it befits thee. But I will not beg."
"Thou"lt not beg!" exclaimed Hugo, eying the king with surprise. "Prithee, since when hast thou reformed?"
"What dost thou mean?"
"Mean? Hast thou not begged the streets of London all thy life?"
"I? Thou idiot!" "Spare thy compliments-thy stock will last longer. Thy father says thou hast begged all thy days. Mayhap he lied. Peradventure you will even make so bold as to say he lied," scoffed Hugo.
"Him you call my father? Yes, he lied."
"Come, play not thy merry game of madman so far, mate; use it for thy amusement, not thy hurt. An I tell him this, he will scorch thee finely for it."
"Save thyself the trouble. I will tell him." "I like thy spirit, I do in truth; but I do not admire thy judgment. Bone-rackings and bastings be plenty enow in this life, without going out of one's way to invite them. But a truce to these matters; I believe your father. I doubt not he can lie; I doubt not he doth lie, upon occasion, for the best of us do that; but there is no occasion here. A wise man does not waste so good a commodity as lying for naught. But come; sith it is thy humor to give over begging, wherewithal shall we busy ourselves? With robbing kitchens?"
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Thomas Cole paintings
Theodore Robinson paintings
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Theodore Chasseriau paintings
By and by they invaded a small farmhouse and made themselves at home while the trembling farmer and his people swept the larder clean to furnish a breakfast for them. They chucked the housewife and her daughters under the chin while receiving the food from their hands, and made coarse jests about them, accompanied with insulting epithets and bursts of horse-laughter. They threw bones and vegetables at the farmer and his sons, kept them dodging all the time, and applauded uproariously when a good hit was made. They ended by buttering the head of one of the daughters who resented some of their familiarities. When they took their leave they threatened to come back and burn the house over the heads of the family if any report of their doings got to the ears of the authorities. About noon, after a long and weary tramp, the gang came to a halt behind a hedge on the outskirts of a considerable village. An hour was allowed for rest, then the crew scattered themselves abroad to enter the village at different points to ply their various trades. "Jack" was sent with Hugo. They wandered hither and thither for some time, Hugo watching for opportunities to do a stroke of business but finding none-so he finally said:
"I see naught to steal; it is a paltry place. Wherefore we will beg."
Theodore Robinson paintings
Titian paintings
Theodore Chasseriau paintings
By and by they invaded a small farmhouse and made themselves at home while the trembling farmer and his people swept the larder clean to furnish a breakfast for them. They chucked the housewife and her daughters under the chin while receiving the food from their hands, and made coarse jests about them, accompanied with insulting epithets and bursts of horse-laughter. They threw bones and vegetables at the farmer and his sons, kept them dodging all the time, and applauded uproariously when a good hit was made. They ended by buttering the head of one of the daughters who resented some of their familiarities. When they took their leave they threatened to come back and burn the house over the heads of the family if any report of their doings got to the ears of the authorities. About noon, after a long and weary tramp, the gang came to a halt behind a hedge on the outskirts of a considerable village. An hour was allowed for rest, then the crew scattered themselves abroad to enter the village at different points to ply their various trades. "Jack" was sent with Hugo. They wandered hither and thither for some time, Hugo watching for opportunities to do a stroke of business but finding none-so he finally said:
"I see naught to steal; it is a paltry place. Wherefore we will beg."
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Raphael paintings
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Sir Henry Raeburn paintings
The troop of vagabonds turned out at early dawn, and set forward on their march. There was a lowering sky overhead, sloppy ground under foot, and a winter chill in the air. All gaiety was gone from the company; some were sullen and silent, some were irritable and petulant, none were gentle-humored, all were thirsty.
The Ruffler put "Jack" in Hugo's charge, with some brief instructions, and commanded John Canty to keep away from him and let him alone; he also warned Hugo not to be too rough with the lad.
After a while the weather grew milder, and the clouds lifted somewhat. The troop ceased to shiver, and their spirits began to improve. They grew more and more cheerful, and finally began to chaff each other and insult passengers along the highway. This showed that they were awaking to an appreciation of life and its joys once more. The dread in which their sort was held was apparent in the fact that everybody gave them the road, and took their ribald insolences meekly, without venturing to talk back. They snatched linen from the hedges, occasionally, in full view of the owners, who made no protest, but only seemed grateful that they did not take the hedges, too.
Salvador Dali paintings
Stephen Gjertson paintings
Sir Henry Raeburn paintings
The troop of vagabonds turned out at early dawn, and set forward on their march. There was a lowering sky overhead, sloppy ground under foot, and a winter chill in the air. All gaiety was gone from the company; some were sullen and silent, some were irritable and petulant, none were gentle-humored, all were thirsty.
The Ruffler put "Jack" in Hugo's charge, with some brief instructions, and commanded John Canty to keep away from him and let him alone; he also warned Hugo not to be too rough with the lad.
After a while the weather grew milder, and the clouds lifted somewhat. The troop ceased to shiver, and their spirits began to improve. They grew more and more cheerful, and finally began to chaff each other and insult passengers along the highway. This showed that they were awaking to an appreciation of life and its joys once more. The dread in which their sort was held was apparent in the fact that everybody gave them the road, and took their ribald insolences meekly, without venturing to talk back. They snatched linen from the hedges, occasionally, in full view of the owners, who made no protest, but only seemed grateful that they did not take the hedges, too.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Raphael paintings
Raphael paintings
Salvador Dali paintings
Stephen Gjertson paintings
Sir Henry Raeburn paintings
Tom Canty, left alone in the prince's cabinet, made good use of his opportunity. He turned himself this way and that before the great mirror, admiring his finery; then walked away, imitating the prince's high-bred carriage, and still observing results in the glass. Next he drew the beautiful sword, and bowed, kissing the blade, and laying it across his breast, as he had seen a noble knight do, by way of salute to the lieutenant of the Tower, five or six weeks before, when delivering the great lords of Norfolk and Surrey into his hands for captivityTom played with the jeweled dagger that hung upon his thigh; he examined the costly and exquisite ornaments of the room; he tried each of the sumptuous chairs, and thought how proud he would be if the Offal Court herd could only peep in and see him in his grandeur. He wondered if they would believe the marvelous tale he should tell when he got home, or if they would shake their heads, and say his overtaxed imagination had at last upset his reason.
At the end of half an hour it suddenly occurred to him that the prince was gone a long time; then right away he began to feel lonely; very soon he fell to listening and longing, and ceased to toy with the pretty things about him; he grew uneasy, then restless, then distressed.
Salvador Dali paintings
Stephen Gjertson paintings
Sir Henry Raeburn paintings
Tom Canty, left alone in the prince's cabinet, made good use of his opportunity. He turned himself this way and that before the great mirror, admiring his finery; then walked away, imitating the prince's high-bred carriage, and still observing results in the glass. Next he drew the beautiful sword, and bowed, kissing the blade, and laying it across his breast, as he had seen a noble knight do, by way of salute to the lieutenant of the Tower, five or six weeks before, when delivering the great lords of Norfolk and Surrey into his hands for captivityTom played with the jeweled dagger that hung upon his thigh; he examined the costly and exquisite ornaments of the room; he tried each of the sumptuous chairs, and thought how proud he would be if the Offal Court herd could only peep in and see him in his grandeur. He wondered if they would believe the marvelous tale he should tell when he got home, or if they would shake their heads, and say his overtaxed imagination had at last upset his reason.
At the end of half an hour it suddenly occurred to him that the prince was gone a long time; then right away he began to feel lonely; very soon he fell to listening and longing, and ceased to toy with the pretty things about him; he grew uneasy, then restless, then distressed.
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Alphonse Maria Mucha paintings
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"What'll Old Aunt say, I wonder?" he whispered.
"Don't you worry about Old Aunt," exclaimed his wife suddenly. "I'll manage Old Aunt! I'll go down and see her. She and I have always got on pretty comfortable together, as you knows well, Daisy."
"Yes," said Daisy a little wonderingly. "I know you have, Ellen."
******
Mr. Sleuth never came back, and at last after many days and many nights had gone by, Mrs. Bunting left off listening for the click of the lock which she at once hoped and feared would herald her lodger's return.
As suddenly and as mysteriously as they had begun the "Avenger" murders stopped, but there came a morning in the early spring when a gardener, working in the Regent's Park, found a newspaper in which was wrapped, together with a half-worn pair of rubber-soled shoes, a long, peculiarly shaped knife. The fact, though of considerable interest to the police, was
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"What'll Old Aunt say, I wonder?" he whispered.
"Don't you worry about Old Aunt," exclaimed his wife suddenly. "I'll manage Old Aunt! I'll go down and see her. She and I have always got on pretty comfortable together, as you knows well, Daisy."
"Yes," said Daisy a little wonderingly. "I know you have, Ellen."
******
Mr. Sleuth never came back, and at last after many days and many nights had gone by, Mrs. Bunting left off listening for the click of the lock which she at once hoped and feared would herald her lodger's return.
As suddenly and as mysteriously as they had begun the "Avenger" murders stopped, but there came a morning in the early spring when a gardener, working in the Regent's Park, found a newspaper in which was wrapped, together with a half-worn pair of rubber-soled shoes, a long, peculiarly shaped knife. The fact, though of considerable interest to the police, was
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Andrea Mantegna paintings
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Would you like a description of him circulated?" asked Joe good-naturedly.
Mr. and Mrs. Bunting looked at one another.
"No, I don't think so. Not yet awhile at any rate. 'Twould upset him awfully, you see."
And Joe acquiesced. "You'd be surprised at the number o' people who disappears and are never heard of again" he said cheerfully. And then he got up, very reluctantly.
Daisy, making no bones about it this time, followed him out into the passage, and shut the sitting-room door behind her.
When she came back she walked over to where her father was sitting in his easy chair, and standing behind him she put her arms round his neck.
Then she bent down her head. "Father," she said, "I've a bit of news for you!"
"Yes, my dear?"
"Father, I'm engaged! Aren't you surprised?"
"Well, what do you think?" said Bunting fondly. Then he turned round and, catching hold of her head, gave her a good, hearty kiss.
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Would you like a description of him circulated?" asked Joe good-naturedly.
Mr. and Mrs. Bunting looked at one another.
"No, I don't think so. Not yet awhile at any rate. 'Twould upset him awfully, you see."
And Joe acquiesced. "You'd be surprised at the number o' people who disappears and are never heard of again" he said cheerfully. And then he got up, very reluctantly.
Daisy, making no bones about it this time, followed him out into the passage, and shut the sitting-room door behind her.
When she came back she walked over to where her father was sitting in his easy chair, and standing behind him she put her arms round his neck.
Then she bent down her head. "Father," she said, "I've a bit of news for you!"
"Yes, my dear?"
"Father, I'm engaged! Aren't you surprised?"
"Well, what do you think?" said Bunting fondly. Then he turned round and, catching hold of her head, gave her a good, hearty kiss.
Claude Lorrain paintings
Claude Lorrain paintings
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Diane Romanello paintings
In the ancient city of London, on a certain autumn day in the second quarter of the sixteenth century, a boy was born to a poor family of the name of Canty, who did not want him. On the same day another English child was born to a rich family of the name of Tudor, who did want him. All England wanted him too. England had so longed for him, and hoped for him, and prayed God for him, that, now that he was really come, the people went nearly mad for joy. Mere acquaintances hugged and kissed each other and cried. Everybody took a holiday, and high and low, rich and poor, feasted and danced and sang, and got very mellow; and they kept this up for days and nights together. By day, London was a sight to see, with gay banners waving from every balcony and housetop, and splendid pageants marching along. By night, it was again a sight to see, with its great bonfires at every corner, and its troops of revelers making merry around them. There was no talk in all England but of the new baby, Edward Tudor, Prince of Wales, who lay lapped in silks and satins, unconscious of all this fuss, and not knowing that great lords and ladies were tending him and watching over him-and not caring, either. But there was no talk about the other baby, Tom Canty, lapped in his poor rags, except among the family of paupers whom he had just come to trouble with his presence.
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Charles Chaplin paintings
Diane Romanello paintings
In the ancient city of London, on a certain autumn day in the second quarter of the sixteenth century, a boy was born to a poor family of the name of Canty, who did not want him. On the same day another English child was born to a rich family of the name of Tudor, who did want him. All England wanted him too. England had so longed for him, and hoped for him, and prayed God for him, that, now that he was really come, the people went nearly mad for joy. Mere acquaintances hugged and kissed each other and cried. Everybody took a holiday, and high and low, rich and poor, feasted and danced and sang, and got very mellow; and they kept this up for days and nights together. By day, London was a sight to see, with gay banners waving from every balcony and housetop, and splendid pageants marching along. By night, it was again a sight to see, with its great bonfires at every corner, and its troops of revelers making merry around them. There was no talk in all England but of the new baby, Edward Tudor, Prince of Wales, who lay lapped in silks and satins, unconscious of all this fuss, and not knowing that great lords and ladies were tending him and watching over him-and not caring, either. But there was no talk about the other baby, Tom Canty, lapped in his poor rags, except among the family of paupers whom he had just come to trouble with his presence.
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Cheri Blum paintings
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came a morning in the early spring when a gardener, working in the Regent's Park, found a newspaper in which was wrapped, together with a half-worn pair of rubber-soled shoes, a long, peculiarly shaped knife. The fact, though of considerable interest to the police, was not chronicled in any newspaper, but about the same time a picturesque little paragraph went the round of the press concerning a small boxful of sovereigns which had been anonymously forwarded to the Governors of the Foundling Hospital.
Meanwhile Mrs. Bunting had been as good as her word about "Old Aunt," and that lady had received the wonderful news concerning Daisy in a more philosophical spirit than her great-niece had expected her to do. She only observed that it was odd to reflect that if gentlefolks leave a house in charge of the police a burglary is pretty sure to follow - a remark which Daisy resented much more than did her Joe.
Mr. Bunting and his Ellen are now in the service of an old lady, by whom they are feared as well as respected, and whom they make very comfortable.
Camille Pissarro paintings
Carl Fredrik Aagard paintings
Caravaggio paintings
came a morning in the early spring when a gardener, working in the Regent's Park, found a newspaper in which was wrapped, together with a half-worn pair of rubber-soled shoes, a long, peculiarly shaped knife. The fact, though of considerable interest to the police, was not chronicled in any newspaper, but about the same time a picturesque little paragraph went the round of the press concerning a small boxful of sovereigns which had been anonymously forwarded to the Governors of the Foundling Hospital.
Meanwhile Mrs. Bunting had been as good as her word about "Old Aunt," and that lady had received the wonderful news concerning Daisy in a more philosophical spirit than her great-niece had expected her to do. She only observed that it was odd to reflect that if gentlefolks leave a house in charge of the police a burglary is pretty sure to follow - a remark which Daisy resented much more than did her Joe.
Mr. Bunting and his Ellen are now in the service of an old lady, by whom they are feared as well as respected, and whom they make very comfortable.
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oil painting for sale
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Come in," said Mr. Sleuth loudly, and she opened the door and carried in the tray.
"You are a little earlier than usual, are you not Mrs. Bunting?" he said, with a touch of irritation in his voice.
"I don't think so, sir, but I've been out. Perhaps I lost count of the time. I thought you'd like your breakfast early, as you had dinner rather sooner than usual."
"Breakfast? Did you say breakfast, Mrs. Bunting?"
"I beg your pardon, sir, I'm sure! I meant supper." He looked at her fixedly. It seemed to Mrs. Bunting that there was a terrible questioning look in his dark, sunken eyes.
"Aren't you well?" he said slowly. "You don't look well, Mrs. Bunting."
"No, sir," she said. "I'm not well. I went over to see a doctor this afternoon, to Ealing, sir."
"I hope he did you good, Mrs. Bunting" - the lodger's voice had become softer, kinder in quality.
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Come in," said Mr. Sleuth loudly, and she opened the door and carried in the tray.
"You are a little earlier than usual, are you not Mrs. Bunting?" he said, with a touch of irritation in his voice.
"I don't think so, sir, but I've been out. Perhaps I lost count of the time. I thought you'd like your breakfast early, as you had dinner rather sooner than usual."
"Breakfast? Did you say breakfast, Mrs. Bunting?"
"I beg your pardon, sir, I'm sure! I meant supper." He looked at her fixedly. It seemed to Mrs. Bunting that there was a terrible questioning look in his dark, sunken eyes.
"Aren't you well?" he said slowly. "You don't look well, Mrs. Bunting."
"No, sir," she said. "I'm not well. I went over to see a doctor this afternoon, to Ealing, sir."
"I hope he did you good, Mrs. Bunting" - the lodger's voice had become softer, kinder in quality.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
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abstract seascape painting
Perhaps Bunting could put it right for you, sir. For the matter of that, I could ask him to go up now.
"No, no, I don't want anything of that sort done to-night. Besides, he couldn't put it right. I am something of an expert, Mrs. Bunting, and I have done all I could. The cause of the trouble is quite simple. The machine is choked up with shillings; a very foolish plan, so I always felt it to be."
And as if he were divining her thoughts, Mr. Sleuth walked forward and stared at the stove. "Then you haven't got a slot machine?" he said wonderingly. "I'm very glad of that, for I expect my experiment will take some time. But, of course, I shall pay you something for the use of the stove, Mrs. Bunting."
Perhaps Bunting could put it right for you, sir. For the matter of that, I could ask him to go up now.
"No, no, I don't want anything of that sort done to-night. Besides, he couldn't put it right. I am something of an expert, Mrs. Bunting, and I have done all I could. The cause of the trouble is quite simple. The machine is choked up with shillings; a very foolish plan, so I always felt it to be."
And as if he were divining her thoughts, Mr. Sleuth walked forward and stared at the stove. "Then you haven't got a slot machine?" he said wonderingly. "I'm very glad of that, for I expect my experiment will take some time. But, of course, I shall pay you something for the use of the stove, Mrs. Bunting."
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I'll make you a fire, sir. We never use the grate, but it's in perfect order, for the first thing I did after I came into the house was to have the chimney swept. It was terribly dirty. It might have set the house on fire." Mrs. Bunting's housewifely instincts were roused. "For the matter of that, you ought to have a fire in your bedroom this cold night."
"By no means - I would prefer not. I certainly do not want a fire there. I dislike an open fire, Mrs. Bunting. I thought I had told you as much."
Mr. Sleuth frowned. He stood there, a strange-looking figure, his candle still alight, just inside the kitchen door.
"I shan't be very long, sir. Just about a quarter of an hour. You could come down then. I'll have everything quite tidy for you. Is there anything I can do to help you?"
"I do not require the use of your kitchen yet - thank you all the same, Mrs. Bunting. I shall come down later - altogether later - after you and your husband have gone to bed. But I should be much obliged if you would see that the gas people come to-morrow and put my stove in order. It might be done while I am out. That the shilling-in-the-slot machine should go wrong is very unpleasant. It has upset me greatly."
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I'll make you a fire, sir. We never use the grate, but it's in perfect order, for the first thing I did after I came into the house was to have the chimney swept. It was terribly dirty. It might have set the house on fire." Mrs. Bunting's housewifely instincts were roused. "For the matter of that, you ought to have a fire in your bedroom this cold night."
"By no means - I would prefer not. I certainly do not want a fire there. I dislike an open fire, Mrs. Bunting. I thought I had told you as much."
Mr. Sleuth frowned. He stood there, a strange-looking figure, his candle still alight, just inside the kitchen door.
"I shan't be very long, sir. Just about a quarter of an hour. You could come down then. I'll have everything quite tidy for you. Is there anything I can do to help you?"
"I do not require the use of your kitchen yet - thank you all the same, Mrs. Bunting. I shall come down later - altogether later - after you and your husband have gone to bed. But I should be much obliged if you would see that the gas people come to-morrow and put my stove in order. It might be done while I am out. That the shilling-in-the-slot machine should go wrong is very unpleasant. It has upset me greatly."
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No, I - I didn't ring," he stammered awkwardly. "The truth is, I didn't know you were here, Mrs. Bunting. Please excuse my costume. My gas-stove has gone wrong, or, rather, that shilling-in-the-slot arrangement has done so. So I came down to see if you had a gas-stove. I am going to ask you to allow me to use it to-night for an important experiment I wish to make."
Mrs. Bunting's heart was beating quickly - quickly. She felt horribly troubled, unnaturally so. Why couldn't Mr. Sleuth's experiment wait till the morning? She stared at him dubiously, but there was that in his face that made her at once afraid and pitiful. It was a wild, eager, imploring look.
"Oh, certainly, sir; but you will find it very cold down here."
"It seems most pleasantly warm," he observed, his voice full of relief, "warm and cosy, after my cold room upstairs."
Warm and cosy? Mrs. Bunting stared at him in amazement. Nay, even that cheerless room at the top of the house must be far warmer and more cosy than this cold underground kitchen could possibly be.
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No, I - I didn't ring," he stammered awkwardly. "The truth is, I didn't know you were here, Mrs. Bunting. Please excuse my costume. My gas-stove has gone wrong, or, rather, that shilling-in-the-slot arrangement has done so. So I came down to see if you had a gas-stove. I am going to ask you to allow me to use it to-night for an important experiment I wish to make."
Mrs. Bunting's heart was beating quickly - quickly. She felt horribly troubled, unnaturally so. Why couldn't Mr. Sleuth's experiment wait till the morning? She stared at him dubiously, but there was that in his face that made her at once afraid and pitiful. It was a wild, eager, imploring look.
"Oh, certainly, sir; but you will find it very cold down here."
"It seems most pleasantly warm," he observed, his voice full of relief, "warm and cosy, after my cold room upstairs."
Warm and cosy? Mrs. Bunting stared at him in amazement. Nay, even that cheerless room at the top of the house must be far warmer and more cosy than this cold underground kitchen could possibly be.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
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Quietly the rest of that eventful day sped by. When dusk fell Mr. Sleuth's landlady heard him go upstairs to the top floor. She remembered that this was the signal for her to go and do his room.
He was a tidy man, was the lodger; he did not throw his things about as so many gentlemen do, leaving them all over the place. No, he kept everything scrupulously tidy. His clothes, and the various articles Mrs. Bunting had bought for him during the first two days he had been there, were carefully arranged in the chest of drawers. He had lately purchased a pair of boots. Those he had arrived in were peculiar-looking footgear, buff leather shoes with rubber soles, and he had told his landlady on that very first day that he never wished them to go down to be cleaned.
A funny idea - a funny habit that, of going out for a walk after midnight in weather so cold and foggy that all other folk were glad to be at home, snug in bed. But then Mr. Sleuth himself admitted that he was a funny sort of gentleman.
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Quietly the rest of that eventful day sped by. When dusk fell Mr. Sleuth's landlady heard him go upstairs to the top floor. She remembered that this was the signal for her to go and do his room.
He was a tidy man, was the lodger; he did not throw his things about as so many gentlemen do, leaving them all over the place. No, he kept everything scrupulously tidy. His clothes, and the various articles Mrs. Bunting had bought for him during the first two days he had been there, were carefully arranged in the chest of drawers. He had lately purchased a pair of boots. Those he had arrived in were peculiar-looking footgear, buff leather shoes with rubber soles, and he had told his landlady on that very first day that he never wished them to go down to be cleaned.
A funny idea - a funny habit that, of going out for a walk after midnight in weather so cold and foggy that all other folk were glad to be at home, snug in bed. But then Mr. Sleuth himself admitted that he was a funny sort of gentleman.
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For the matter of that," he said suddenly, "Daisy'll be able to help you with the work, Ellen, and she'll brisk us both up a bit."
Mrs. Bunting made no answer. She sat down heavily at the table. And then she said languidly, "You might as well show me the girl's letter."
He handed it across to her, and she read it slowly to herself.
"DEAR FATHER (it ran) - I hope this finds you as well at it leaves me. Mrs. Puddle's youngest has got scarlet fever, and Aunt thinks I had better come away at once, just to stay with you for a few days. Please tell Ellen I won't give her no trouble. I'll start at ten if I don't hear nothing. - Your loving daughter,
"Yes, I suppose Daisy will have to come here," Mrs. Bunting slowly. "It'll do her good to have a bit of work to do for once in her life."
And with that ungraciously worded permission Bunting had to content himself.
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For the matter of that," he said suddenly, "Daisy'll be able to help you with the work, Ellen, and she'll brisk us both up a bit."
Mrs. Bunting made no answer. She sat down heavily at the table. And then she said languidly, "You might as well show me the girl's letter."
He handed it across to her, and she read it slowly to herself.
"DEAR FATHER (it ran) - I hope this finds you as well at it leaves me. Mrs. Puddle's youngest has got scarlet fever, and Aunt thinks I had better come away at once, just to stay with you for a few days. Please tell Ellen I won't give her no trouble. I'll start at ten if I don't hear nothing. - Your loving daughter,
"Yes, I suppose Daisy will have to come here," Mrs. Bunting slowly. "It'll do her good to have a bit of work to do for once in her life."
And with that ungraciously worded permission Bunting had to content himself.
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their house. Old Aunt thinks she'd better come away for a few days. So, you see, she'll be here for her birthday. Eighteen, that's what she be on the nineteenth! It do make me feel old - that it do!"
Mrs. Bunting put down the tray. "I can't have the girl here just now," she said shortly. "I've just as much to do as I can manage. The lodger gives me more trouble than you seem to think for."
"Rubbish!" he said sharply. "I'll help you with the lodger. It's your own fault you haven't had help with him before. Of course, Daisy must come here. Whatever other place could the girl go to?"
Bunting felt pugnacious - so cheerful as to be almost light-hearted. But as he looked across at his wife his feeling of satisfaction vanished. Ellen's face was pinched and drawn to-day; she looked ill - ill and horribly tired. It was very aggravating of her to go and behave like this - just when they were beginning to get on nicely again.
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their house. Old Aunt thinks she'd better come away for a few days. So, you see, she'll be here for her birthday. Eighteen, that's what she be on the nineteenth! It do make me feel old - that it do!"
Mrs. Bunting put down the tray. "I can't have the girl here just now," she said shortly. "I've just as much to do as I can manage. The lodger gives me more trouble than you seem to think for."
"Rubbish!" he said sharply. "I'll help you with the lodger. It's your own fault you haven't had help with him before. Of course, Daisy must come here. Whatever other place could the girl go to?"
Bunting felt pugnacious - so cheerful as to be almost light-hearted. But as he looked across at his wife his feeling of satisfaction vanished. Ellen's face was pinched and drawn to-day; she looked ill - ill and horribly tired. It was very aggravating of her to go and behave like this - just when they were beginning to get on nicely again.
fine art oil painting
fine art oil painting
modern landscape painting
flower landscape oil painting
mountain landscape painting
Thanks to Mr. Sleuth, their outlook was now moderately bright. A week ago everything had seemed utterly hopeless. It seemed as if nothing could save them from disaster. But everything was now changed!
Perhaps it would be well for her to go and see the new proprietor of that registry office, in Baker Street, which had lately changed hands. It would be a good thing for Bunting to get even an occasional job - for the matter of that he could now take up a fairly regular thing in the way of waiting. Mrs. Bunting knew that it isn't easy to get a man out of idle ways once he has acquired those ways.
When, at last, she went upstairs again she felt a little ashamed of what she had been thinking, for Bunting had laid the cloth, and laid it very nicely, too, and brought up the two chairs to the table.
"Ellen?" he cried eagerly, "here's news! Daisy's coming to-morrow! There's scarlet fever in
modern landscape painting
flower landscape oil painting
mountain landscape painting
Thanks to Mr. Sleuth, their outlook was now moderately bright. A week ago everything had seemed utterly hopeless. It seemed as if nothing could save them from disaster. But everything was now changed!
Perhaps it would be well for her to go and see the new proprietor of that registry office, in Baker Street, which had lately changed hands. It would be a good thing for Bunting to get even an occasional job - for the matter of that he could now take up a fairly regular thing in the way of waiting. Mrs. Bunting knew that it isn't easy to get a man out of idle ways once he has acquired those ways.
When, at last, she went upstairs again she felt a little ashamed of what she had been thinking, for Bunting had laid the cloth, and laid it very nicely, too, and brought up the two chairs to the table.
"Ellen?" he cried eagerly, "here's news! Daisy's coming to-morrow! There's scarlet fever in
famous landscape painting
famous landscape painting
american landscape painting
english landscape painting
impressionist landscape painting
her mistress's glass of port wine, she had not been too much absorbed in her task to have a good out-of-her-eye look at the spruce, nice, respectable-looking fellow who was standing over by the window. How superior he had appeared even then to the man she already hoped he would succeed as butler!
To-day, perhaps because she was not feeling quite herself, the past rose before her very vividly, and a lump came into her throat.
Putting the letter addressed to her husband on the table, she closed the door softly, and went down into the kitchen; there were various little things to put away and clean up, as well as their dinner to cook. And all the time she was down there she fixed her mind obstinately, determinedly on Bunting and on the problem of Bunting. She wondered what she'd better do to get him into good ways again.
american landscape painting
english landscape painting
impressionist landscape painting
her mistress's glass of port wine, she had not been too much absorbed in her task to have a good out-of-her-eye look at the spruce, nice, respectable-looking fellow who was standing over by the window. How superior he had appeared even then to the man she already hoped he would succeed as butler!
To-day, perhaps because she was not feeling quite herself, the past rose before her very vividly, and a lump came into her throat.
Putting the letter addressed to her husband on the table, she closed the door softly, and went down into the kitchen; there were various little things to put away and clean up, as well as their dinner to cook. And all the time she was down there she fixed her mind obstinately, determinedly on Bunting and on the problem of Bunting. She wondered what she'd better do to get him into good ways again.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
famous picasso pablo painting
famous picasso pablo painting
decorative abstract art painting
abstract nude painting
abstract horse painting
The President in a stern voice, said:
"This joke has gone far enough. You may retire, Monsieur, into the witnesses' room. I hold you at our disposition."
Rouletabille protested.
"I assure you, Monsieur President," he cried in his sharp, clear voice, "that when I do name the murderer you will understand why I could not speak before half-past six. I assert this on my honour. I can, however, give you now some explanation of the murder of the keeper. Monsieur Frederic Larsan, who has seen me at work at the Glandier, can tell you with what care I studied this case. I found myself compelled to differ with him in arresting Monsieur Robert Darzac, who is innocent. Monsieur Larsan knows of my good faith and knows that some importance may be attached to my discoveries, which have often corroborated his own."
Frederic Larsan said:
"Monsieur President, it will be interesting to hear Monsieur Joseph Rouletabille, especially as he differs from me."
A murmur of approbation greeted the detective's speech. He was a good sportsman and accepted the challenge. The struggle between the two promised to be exciting.
decorative abstract art painting
abstract nude painting
abstract horse painting
The President in a stern voice, said:
"This joke has gone far enough. You may retire, Monsieur, into the witnesses' room. I hold you at our disposition."
Rouletabille protested.
"I assure you, Monsieur President," he cried in his sharp, clear voice, "that when I do name the murderer you will understand why I could not speak before half-past six. I assert this on my honour. I can, however, give you now some explanation of the murder of the keeper. Monsieur Frederic Larsan, who has seen me at work at the Glandier, can tell you with what care I studied this case. I found myself compelled to differ with him in arresting Monsieur Robert Darzac, who is innocent. Monsieur Larsan knows of my good faith and knows that some importance may be attached to my discoveries, which have often corroborated his own."
Frederic Larsan said:
"Monsieur President, it will be interesting to hear Monsieur Joseph Rouletabille, especially as he differs from me."
A murmur of approbation greeted the detective's speech. He was a good sportsman and accepted the challenge. The struggle between the two promised to be exciting.
art graceful oil painting
art graceful oil painting
flower art painting
original art painting
fine art painting gallery
of his disappearance behind the corner of the right wing of the chateau. There he encountered the keeper who, no doubt, tried to seize him. The murderer had in his hand the knife with which he had stabbed Mademoiselle Stangerson and with this he killed the keeper."
This very simple explanation appeared at once plausible and satisfying. A murmur of approbation was heard.
"And the murderer? What became of him?" asked the President.
"He was evidently hidden in an obscure corner at the end of the court. After the people had left the court carrying with them the body of the keeper, the murderer quietly made his escape."
The words had scarcely left Larsan's mouth when from the back of the court came a youthful voice:
"I agree with Frederic Larsan as to the death of the keeper; but I do not agree with him as to the way the murderer escaped!"
Everybody turned round, astonished. The clerks of the court sprang towards the speaker, calling out silence, and the President angrily ordered the intruder to be immediately expelled. The same clear voice, however, was again heard:
"It is I, Monsieur President - Joseph Rouletabille!"
flower art painting
original art painting
fine art painting gallery
of his disappearance behind the corner of the right wing of the chateau. There he encountered the keeper who, no doubt, tried to seize him. The murderer had in his hand the knife with which he had stabbed Mademoiselle Stangerson and with this he killed the keeper."
This very simple explanation appeared at once plausible and satisfying. A murmur of approbation was heard.
"And the murderer? What became of him?" asked the President.
"He was evidently hidden in an obscure corner at the end of the court. After the people had left the court carrying with them the body of the keeper, the murderer quietly made his escape."
The words had scarcely left Larsan's mouth when from the back of the court came a youthful voice:
"I agree with Frederic Larsan as to the death of the keeper; but I do not agree with him as to the way the murderer escaped!"
Everybody turned round, astonished. The clerks of the court sprang towards the speaker, calling out silence, and the President angrily ordered the intruder to be immediately expelled. The same clear voice, however, was again heard:
"It is I, Monsieur President - Joseph Rouletabille!"
painting in oil
painting in oil
I waited about an hour, and during all that time I saw nothing unusual. The rain, which had begun to come down strongly towards nine o'clock, had now ceased.
My friend had told me that, probably, nothing would occur before midnight or one o'clock in the morning. It was not more than half-past eleven, however, when I heard the door of Arthur Rance's room open very slowly. The door remained open for a minute, which seemed to me a long time. As it opened into the gallery, that is to say, outwards, I could not see what was passing in the room behind the door.
At that moment I noticed a strange sound, three times repeated, coming from the park. Ordinarily I should not have attached any more importance to it than I would to the noise of cats on the roof. But the third time, the mew was so sharp and penetrating that I remembered what I had heard about the cry of the Bete du bon Dieu. As the cry had accompanied all the events at the Glandier, I could not refrain from shuddering at the thought.
I waited about an hour, and during all that time I saw nothing unusual. The rain, which had begun to come down strongly towards nine o'clock, had now ceased.
My friend had told me that, probably, nothing would occur before midnight or one o'clock in the morning. It was not more than half-past eleven, however, when I heard the door of Arthur Rance's room open very slowly. The door remained open for a minute, which seemed to me a long time. As it opened into the gallery, that is to say, outwards, I could not see what was passing in the room behind the door.
At that moment I noticed a strange sound, three times repeated, coming from the park. Ordinarily I should not have attached any more importance to it than I would to the noise of cats on the roof. But the third time, the mew was so sharp and penetrating that I remembered what I had heard about the cry of the Bete du bon Dieu. As the cry had accompanied all the events at the Glandier, I could not refrain from shuddering at the thought.
animal painting
animal painting
Before entering it I examined the curtain-cord of the window and found that I had only to release it from its fastening with my fingers for the curtain to fall by its own weight and hide the square of light from Rouletabille - the signal agreed upon. The sound of a footstep made me halt before Arthur Rance's door. He was not yet in bed, then! How was it that, being in the chateau, he had not dined with Monsieur Stangerson and his daughter? I had not seen him at table with them, at the moment when we looked in.
I retired into the dark closet. I found myself perfectly situated. I could see along the whole length of the gallery. Nothing, absolutely nothing could pass there without my seeing it. But what was going to pass there? Rouletabille's embrace came back to my mind. I argued that people don't part from each, other in that way unless on an important or dangerous occasion. Was I then in danger?
My hand closed on the butt of my revolver and I waited. I am not a hero; but neither am I a coward.
Before entering it I examined the curtain-cord of the window and found that I had only to release it from its fastening with my fingers for the curtain to fall by its own weight and hide the square of light from Rouletabille - the signal agreed upon. The sound of a footstep made me halt before Arthur Rance's door. He was not yet in bed, then! How was it that, being in the chateau, he had not dined with Monsieur Stangerson and his daughter? I had not seen him at table with them, at the moment when we looked in.
I retired into the dark closet. I found myself perfectly situated. I could see along the whole length of the gallery. Nothing, absolutely nothing could pass there without my seeing it. But what was going to pass there? Rouletabille's embrace came back to my mind. I argued that people don't part from each, other in that way unless on an important or dangerous occasion. Was I then in danger?
My hand closed on the butt of my revolver and I waited. I am not a hero; but neither am I a coward.
canvas painting
canvas painting
We remained in his room until about ten o'clock without a word passing between us. Buried in an armchair Rouletabille sat and smoked steadily, his brow in thought and a far-away look in his eyes. On the stroke of ten he took off his boots and signalled to me to do the same. As we stood in our socks he said, in so low a tone that I guessed, rather than heard, the word:
"Revolver."
I drew my revolver from my jacket pocket.
"Cock it!" he said.
I did as he directed.
Then moving towards the door of his room, he opened it with infinite precaution; it made no sound. We were in the "off-turning" gallery. Rouletabille made another sign to me which I understood to mean that I was to take up my post in the dark closet.
When I was some distance from him, he rejoined me and embraced me; and then I saw him, with the same precaution, return to his room. Astonished by his embrace, and somewhat disquieted by it, I arrived at the right gallery without difficulty, crossing the landing-place, and reaching the dark closet.
We remained in his room until about ten o'clock without a word passing between us. Buried in an armchair Rouletabille sat and smoked steadily, his brow in thought and a far-away look in his eyes. On the stroke of ten he took off his boots and signalled to me to do the same. As we stood in our socks he said, in so low a tone that I guessed, rather than heard, the word:
"Revolver."
I drew my revolver from my jacket pocket.
"Cock it!" he said.
I did as he directed.
Then moving towards the door of his room, he opened it with infinite precaution; it made no sound. We were in the "off-turning" gallery. Rouletabille made another sign to me which I understood to mean that I was to take up my post in the dark closet.
When I was some distance from him, he rejoined me and embraced me; and then I saw him, with the same precaution, return to his room. Astonished by his embrace, and somewhat disquieted by it, I arrived at the right gallery without difficulty, crossing the landing-place, and reaching the dark closet.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
thomas kinkade painting
thomas kinkade painting
So they keep on saying, monsieur, so they keep on saying! But if he had gone off that way, we should have been sure to have seen him. We are not blind, neither Monsieur Stangerson nor me, nor the concierges who are in prison. Why have they not put me in prison, too, on account of my revolver?"
Rouletabille had already opened the window and was examining the shutters.
"Were these closed at the time of the crime?"
"And fastened with the iron catch inside," said Daddy Jacques, "and I am quite sure that the murderer did not get out that way."
"Are there any blood stains?"
"Yes, on the stones outside; but blood of what?"
"Ah!" said Rouletabille, "there are footmarks visible on the path - the ground was very moist. I will look into that presently."
"Nonsense!" interrupted Daddy Jacques; "the murderer did not go that way."
"Which way did he go, then?"
So they keep on saying, monsieur, so they keep on saying! But if he had gone off that way, we should have been sure to have seen him. We are not blind, neither Monsieur Stangerson nor me, nor the concierges who are in prison. Why have they not put me in prison, too, on account of my revolver?"
Rouletabille had already opened the window and was examining the shutters.
"Were these closed at the time of the crime?"
"And fastened with the iron catch inside," said Daddy Jacques, "and I am quite sure that the murderer did not get out that way."
"Are there any blood stains?"
"Yes, on the stones outside; but blood of what?"
"Ah!" said Rouletabille, "there are footmarks visible on the path - the ground was very moist. I will look into that presently."
"Nonsense!" interrupted Daddy Jacques; "the murderer did not go that way."
"Which way did he go, then?"
mona lisa painting
mona lisa painting
Excuse me, Monsieur Jacques, one question before anything else," said Rouletabille.
"What is it, young man? If I can answer it -"
"Did your mistress wear her hair in bands, that evening? You know what I mean - over her forehead?"
"No, young man. My mistress never wore her hair in the way you suggest, neither on that day nor on any other. She had her hair drawn up, as usual, so that her beautiful forehead could be seen, pure as that of an unborn child!"
Rouletabille grunted and set to work examining the door, finding that it fastened itself automatically. He satisfied himself that it could never remain open and needed a key to open it. Then we entered the vestibule, a small, well-lit room paved with square red tiles.
"Ah! This is the window by which the murderer escaped!" said Rouletabille
Excuse me, Monsieur Jacques, one question before anything else," said Rouletabille.
"What is it, young man? If I can answer it -"
"Did your mistress wear her hair in bands, that evening? You know what I mean - over her forehead?"
"No, young man. My mistress never wore her hair in the way you suggest, neither on that day nor on any other. She had her hair drawn up, as usual, so that her beautiful forehead could be seen, pure as that of an unborn child!"
Rouletabille grunted and set to work examining the door, finding that it fastened itself automatically. He satisfied himself that it could never remain open and needed a key to open it. Then we entered the vestibule, a small, well-lit room paved with square red tiles.
"Ah! This is the window by which the murderer escaped!" said Rouletabille
da vinci painting
da vinci painting
Having said this, Monsieur Darzac knocked at the door of the pavilion. I must confess to feeling a strong impatience to reach the spot where the crime had been committed. It was some time before the door was pened by a man whom I at once recognised as Daddy Jacques.
He appeared to be well over sixty years of age. He had a long white beard and white hair, on which he wore a flat Basque cap. He was dressed in a complete suit of chestnut-coloured velveteen, worn at the sides; sabots were on his feet. He had rather a waspish-looking face, the expression of which lightened, however, as soon as he saw Monsieur Darzac.
"Friends," said our guide. "Nobody in the pavilion, Daddy Jacques?"
"I ought not to allow anybody to enter, Monsieur Robert, but of course the order does not apply to you. These gentlemen of justice have seen everything there is to be seen, and made enough drawings, and drawn up enough reports -"
Having said this, Monsieur Darzac knocked at the door of the pavilion. I must confess to feeling a strong impatience to reach the spot where the crime had been committed. It was some time before the door was pened by a man whom I at once recognised as Daddy Jacques.
He appeared to be well over sixty years of age. He had a long white beard and white hair, on which he wore a flat Basque cap. He was dressed in a complete suit of chestnut-coloured velveteen, worn at the sides; sabots were on his feet. He had rather a waspish-looking face, the expression of which lightened, however, as soon as he saw Monsieur Darzac.
"Friends," said our guide. "Nobody in the pavilion, Daddy Jacques?"
"I ought not to allow anybody to enter, Monsieur Robert, but of course the order does not apply to you. These gentlemen of justice have seen everything there is to be seen, and made enough drawings, and drawn up enough reports -"
pop art painting
pop art painting
which is narrow, and on the threshold of which the concierge stood with the lamp, while her husband and I searched for him in every corner of the little room, where it is impossible for anyone to hide himself. The door, which had been forced open against the wall, could not conceal anything behind it, as we assured ourselves. By the window, still in every way secured, no flight had been possible. What then? - I began to believe in the Devil.
"'But we discovered my revolver on the floor! - Yes, my revolver! Oh! that brought me back to the reality! The Devil would not have needed to steal my revolver to kill Mademoiselle. The man who had been there had first gone up to my attic and taken my revolver from the drawer where I kept it. We then ascertained, by counting the cartridges, that the assassin had fired two shots. Ah! it was fortunate for me that Monsieur Stangerson was in the laboratory when the affair took place and had seen with his own eyes that I was there with him; for otherwise, with this business of my revolver, I don't know where we should have been, - I should now be under lock and bar. Justice wants no more to send a man to the scaffold!'"
which is narrow, and on the threshold of which the concierge stood with the lamp, while her husband and I searched for him in every corner of the little room, where it is impossible for anyone to hide himself. The door, which had been forced open against the wall, could not conceal anything behind it, as we assured ourselves. By the window, still in every way secured, no flight had been possible. What then? - I began to believe in the Devil.
"'But we discovered my revolver on the floor! - Yes, my revolver! Oh! that brought me back to the reality! The Devil would not have needed to steal my revolver to kill Mademoiselle. The man who had been there had first gone up to my attic and taken my revolver from the drawer where I kept it. We then ascertained, by counting the cartridges, that the assassin had fired two shots. Ah! it was fortunate for me that Monsieur Stangerson was in the laboratory when the affair took place and had seen with his own eyes that I was there with him; for otherwise, with this business of my revolver, I don't know where we should have been, - I should now be under lock and bar. Justice wants no more to send a man to the scaffold!'"
art deco Gustav Klimt two girls with an oleander Painting
art deco painting
Gustav Klimt two girls with an oleander Painting
showing that there had been a violent struggle. Mademoiselle had certainly been dragged from her bed. She was covered with blood and had terrible marks of finger-nails on her throat, - the flesh of her neck having been almost torn by the nails. From a wound on the right temple a stream of blood had run down and made a little pool on the floor. When Monsieur Stangerson saw his daughter in that state, he threw himself on his knees beside her, uttering a cry of despair. He ascertained that she still breathed. As to us, we searched for the wretch who had tried to kill our mistress, and I swear to you, monsieur, that, if we had found him, it would have gone hard with him!
"'But how to explain that he was not there, that he had already escaped? It passes all imagination! - Nobody under the bed, nobody behind the furniture! - All that we discovered were traces, blood-stained marks of a man's large hand on the walls and on the door; a big handkerchief red with blood, without any initials, an old cap, and many fresh footmarks of a man on the floor, - footmarks of a man with large feet whose boot-soles had left a sort of sooty impression. How had this man got away? How had he vanished? Don't forget, monsieur, that there is no chimney in The Yellow Room. He could not have escaped by the door,
Gustav Klimt two girls with an oleander Painting
showing that there had been a violent struggle. Mademoiselle had certainly been dragged from her bed. She was covered with blood and had terrible marks of finger-nails on her throat, - the flesh of her neck having been almost torn by the nails. From a wound on the right temple a stream of blood had run down and made a little pool on the floor. When Monsieur Stangerson saw his daughter in that state, he threw himself on his knees beside her, uttering a cry of despair. He ascertained that she still breathed. As to us, we searched for the wretch who had tried to kill our mistress, and I swear to you, monsieur, that, if we had found him, it would have gone hard with him!
"'But how to explain that he was not there, that he had already escaped? It passes all imagination! - Nobody under the bed, nobody behind the furniture! - All that we discovered were traces, blood-stained marks of a man's large hand on the walls and on the door; a big handkerchief red with blood, without any initials, an old cap, and many fresh footmarks of a man on the floor, - footmarks of a man with large feet whose boot-soles had left a sort of sooty impression. How had this man got away? How had he vanished? Don't forget, monsieur, that there is no chimney in The Yellow Room. He could not have escaped by the door,
art painting gallery
art painting gallery
'It was unfortunate, - enough to turn one's brain! The door of the room locked on the inside and the blinds on the only window also fastened on the inside; and Mademoiselle still calling for help! - No! she had ceased to call. She was dead, perhaps. But I still heard her father, in the pavilion, trying to break down the door.
"'With the concierge I hurried back to the pavilion. The door, in spite of the furious attempts of Monsieur Stangerson and Bernier to burst it open, was still holding firm; but at length, it gave way before our united efforts, - and then what a sight met our eyes! I should tell you that, behind us, the concierge held the laboratory lamp - a powerful lamp, that lit the whole chamber.
"'I must also tell you, monsieur, that The Yellow Room is a very small room. Mademoiselle had furnished it with a fairly large iron bedstead, a small table, a night-commode; a dressing-table, and two chairs. By the light of the big lamp we saw all at a glance. Mademoiselle, in her night-dress, was lying on the floor in the midst of the greatest disorder. Tables and chairs had been overthrown,
'It was unfortunate, - enough to turn one's brain! The door of the room locked on the inside and the blinds on the only window also fastened on the inside; and Mademoiselle still calling for help! - No! she had ceased to call. She was dead, perhaps. But I still heard her father, in the pavilion, trying to break down the door.
"'With the concierge I hurried back to the pavilion. The door, in spite of the furious attempts of Monsieur Stangerson and Bernier to burst it open, was still holding firm; but at length, it gave way before our united efforts, - and then what a sight met our eyes! I should tell you that, behind us, the concierge held the laboratory lamp - a powerful lamp, that lit the whole chamber.
"'I must also tell you, monsieur, that The Yellow Room is a very small room. Mademoiselle had furnished it with a fairly large iron bedstead, a small table, a night-commode; a dressing-table, and two chairs. By the light of the big lamp we saw all at a glance. Mademoiselle, in her night-dress, was lying on the floor in the midst of the greatest disorder. Tables and chairs had been overthrown,
Sunday, May 11, 2008
painting in oil
painting in oil
Pinocchio weeps upon learning that the Lovely Maiden with Azure Hair is dead. He meets a Pigeon, who carries him to the seashore. He throws himself into the sea to go to the aid of his father
As soon as Pinocchio no longer felt the shameful weight of the dog collar around his neck, he started to run across the fields and meadows, and never stopped till he came to the main road that was to take him to the Fairy's house.
When he reached it, he looked into the valley far below him and there he saw the wood where unluckily he had met the Fox and the Cat, and the tall oak tree where he had been hanged; but though he searched far and near, he could not see the house where the Fairy with the Azure Hair lived.
He became terribly frightened and, running as fast as he could, he finally came to the spot where it had once stood. The little house was no longer there. In its place lay a small marble slab, which bore this sad inscription:
HERE LIES THE LOVELY FAIRY WITH AZURE HAIR WHO DIED OF GRIEF WHEN ABANDONED BY HER LITTLE BROTHER PINOCCHIO
The poor Marionette was heartbroken at reading these words. He fell to the ground and, covering the cold marble with kisses, burst into bitter tears. He cried all night, and dawn found him still there, though his tears had dried and only hard, dry sobs shook his wooden frame. But these were so loud that they could be heard by the faraway hills.
As he sobbed he said to himself:
Pinocchio weeps upon learning that the Lovely Maiden with Azure Hair is dead. He meets a Pigeon, who carries him to the seashore. He throws himself into the sea to go to the aid of his father
As soon as Pinocchio no longer felt the shameful weight of the dog collar around his neck, he started to run across the fields and meadows, and never stopped till he came to the main road that was to take him to the Fairy's house.
When he reached it, he looked into the valley far below him and there he saw the wood where unluckily he had met the Fox and the Cat, and the tall oak tree where he had been hanged; but though he searched far and near, he could not see the house where the Fairy with the Azure Hair lived.
He became terribly frightened and, running as fast as he could, he finally came to the spot where it had once stood. The little house was no longer there. In its place lay a small marble slab, which bore this sad inscription:
HERE LIES THE LOVELY FAIRY WITH AZURE HAIR WHO DIED OF GRIEF WHEN ABANDONED BY HER LITTLE BROTHER PINOCCHIO
The poor Marionette was heartbroken at reading these words. He fell to the ground and, covering the cold marble with kisses, burst into bitter tears. He cried all night, and dawn found him still there, though his tears had dried and only hard, dry sobs shook his wooden frame. But these were so loud that they could be heard by the faraway hills.
As he sobbed he said to himself:
animal painting
animal painting
I'm sorry to say that I am. I'm being punished."
"Well, I shall make the same terms with you that we had with the dead Melampo. I am sure you will be glad to hear them."
"And what are the terms?"
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"This is our plan: We'll come once in a while, as in the past, to pay a visit to this henhouse, and we'll take away eight chickens. Of these, seven are for us, and one for you, provided, of course, that you will make believe you are sleeping and will not bark for the Farmer."
"Did Melampo really do that?" asked Pinocchio.
"Indeed he did, and because of that we were the best of friends. Sleep away peacefully, and remember that before we go we shall leave you a nice fat chicken all ready for your breakfast in the morning. Is that understood?"
"Even too well," answered Pinocchio. And shaking his head in a threatening manner, he seemed to say, "We'll talk this over in a few minutes, my friends."
As soon as the four Weasels had talked things over, they went straight to the chicken coop which stood close to the doghouse. Digging busily with teeth and claws, they opened the little door and slipped in. But they were no sooner in than they heard the door close with a sharp bang.
The one who had done the trick was Pinocchio, who, not satisfied with that, dragged a heavy stone in front of it. That done, he started to bark. And he barked as if he were a real watchdog: "Bow, wow, wow! Bow, wow!"
The Farmer heard the loud barks and jumped out of bed. Taking his gun, he leaped to the window and shouted: "What's the matter?"
I'm sorry to say that I am. I'm being punished."
"Well, I shall make the same terms with you that we had with the dead Melampo. I am sure you will be glad to hear them."
"And what are the terms?"
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"This is our plan: We'll come once in a while, as in the past, to pay a visit to this henhouse, and we'll take away eight chickens. Of these, seven are for us, and one for you, provided, of course, that you will make believe you are sleeping and will not bark for the Farmer."
"Did Melampo really do that?" asked Pinocchio.
"Indeed he did, and because of that we were the best of friends. Sleep away peacefully, and remember that before we go we shall leave you a nice fat chicken all ready for your breakfast in the morning. Is that understood?"
"Even too well," answered Pinocchio. And shaking his head in a threatening manner, he seemed to say, "We'll talk this over in a few minutes, my friends."
As soon as the four Weasels had talked things over, they went straight to the chicken coop which stood close to the doghouse. Digging busily with teeth and claws, they opened the little door and slipped in. But they were no sooner in than they heard the door close with a sharp bang.
The one who had done the trick was Pinocchio, who, not satisfied with that, dragged a heavy stone in front of it. That done, he started to bark. And he barked as if he were a real watchdog: "Bow, wow, wow! Bow, wow!"
The Farmer heard the loud barks and jumped out of bed. Taking his gun, he leaped to the window and shouted: "What's the matter?"
canvas painting
canvas painting
Pinocchio discovers the thieves and, as a reward for faithfulness, he regains his liberty
Even though a boy may be very unhappy, he very seldom loses sleep over his worries. The Marionette, being no exception to this rule, slept on peacefully for a few hours till well along toward midnight, when he was awakened by strange whisperings and stealthy sounds coming from the yard. He stuck his nose out of the doghouse and saw four slender, hairy animals. They were Weasels, small animals very fond of both eggs and chickens. One of them left her companions and, going to the door of the doghouse, said in a sweet voice:
"Good evening, Melampo."
"My name is not Melampo," answered Pinocchio.
"Who are you, then?"
"I am Pinocchio."
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm the watchdog."
"But where is Melampo? Where is the old dog who used to live in this house?"
"He died this morning."
"Died? Poor beast! He was so good! Still, judging by your face, I think you, too, are a good-natured dog."
"I beg your pardon, I am not a dog!"
"What are you, then?"
Pinocchio discovers the thieves and, as a reward for faithfulness, he regains his liberty
Even though a boy may be very unhappy, he very seldom loses sleep over his worries. The Marionette, being no exception to this rule, slept on peacefully for a few hours till well along toward midnight, when he was awakened by strange whisperings and stealthy sounds coming from the yard. He stuck his nose out of the doghouse and saw four slender, hairy animals. They were Weasels, small animals very fond of both eggs and chickens. One of them left her companions and, going to the door of the doghouse, said in a sweet voice:
"Good evening, Melampo."
"My name is not Melampo," answered Pinocchio.
"Who are you, then?"
"I am Pinocchio."
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm the watchdog."
"But where is Melampo? Where is the old dog who used to live in this house?"
"He died this morning."
"Died? Poor beast! He was so good! Still, judging by your face, I think you, too, are a good-natured dog."
"I beg your pardon, I am not a dog!"
"What are you, then?"
Saturday, May 10, 2008
China oil paintings
China oil paintings
The two species that had resulted from the evolution of man were sliding down towards, or had already arrived at, an altogether new relationship. The Eloi, like the Carolingian kings, had decayed to a mere beautiful futility. They still possessed the earth on sufferance: since the Morlocks, subterranean for innumerable generations, had come at last to find the daylit surface intolerable. And the Morlocks made their garments, I inferred, and maintained them in their habitual needs, perhaps through the survival of an old habit of service. They did it as a standing horse paws with his foot, or as a man enjoys killing animals in sport: because ancient and departed necessities had impressed it on the organism. But, clearly, the old order was already in part reversed. The Nemesis of the delicate ones was creeping on apace. Ages ago, thousands of generations ago, man had thrust his brother man out of the ease and the sunshine. And now that brother
The two species that had resulted from the evolution of man were sliding down towards, or had already arrived at, an altogether new relationship. The Eloi, like the Carolingian kings, had decayed to a mere beautiful futility. They still possessed the earth on sufferance: since the Morlocks, subterranean for innumerable generations, had come at last to find the daylit surface intolerable. And the Morlocks made their garments, I inferred, and maintained them in their habitual needs, perhaps through the survival of an old habit of service. They did it as a standing horse paws with his foot, or as a man enjoys killing animals in sport: because ancient and departed necessities had impressed it on the organism. But, clearly, the old order was already in part reversed. The Nemesis of the delicate ones was creeping on apace. Ages ago, thousands of generations ago, man had thrust his brother man out of the ease and the sunshine. And now that brother
Thursday, May 8, 2008
indian art painting
indian art painting
myselfone flower which is unique in the world, which grows nowhere but on my planet, but which one little sheep can destroy in a single bite some morning, without even noticing what he is doingOh! You think that is not important!"
His face turned from white to red as he continued:
"If some one loves a flower, of which just one single blossom grows in all the millions and millions of stars. He can say to himself, 'Somewhere, my flower is there…' But if the sheep eats the flower, in one moment all his stars will be darkened…And you think that is not important!"
He could not say anything more. His words were choked by sobbing.
The night had fallen. I had let my tools drop from my hands. Of what moment now was my hammer, my bolt, or thirst, or death? On one star, one planet, my planet, the Earth, there was a little prince to be comforted, I took him in my arms and rocked him. I said to him:
"The flower that you love is not in danger. I will draw you a muzzle for your sheep. I will draw you a railing to put around your flower. I will"
I did not know what to say to him. I felt awkward and blundering. I did not know how I could reach him, where I could overtake him and go on hand in hand with him once more.
It is such a secret place, the land of tears.
myselfone flower which is unique in the world, which grows nowhere but on my planet, but which one little sheep can destroy in a single bite some morning, without even noticing what he is doingOh! You think that is not important!"
His face turned from white to red as he continued:
"If some one loves a flower, of which just one single blossom grows in all the millions and millions of stars. He can say to himself, 'Somewhere, my flower is there…' But if the sheep eats the flower, in one moment all his stars will be darkened…And you think that is not important!"
He could not say anything more. His words were choked by sobbing.
The night had fallen. I had let my tools drop from my hands. Of what moment now was my hammer, my bolt, or thirst, or death? On one star, one planet, my planet, the Earth, there was a little prince to be comforted, I took him in my arms and rocked him. I said to him:
"The flower that you love is not in danger. I will draw you a muzzle for your sheep. I will draw you a railing to put around your flower. I will"
I did not know what to say to him. I felt awkward and blundering. I did not know how I could reach him, where I could overtake him and go on hand in hand with him once more.
It is such a secret place, the land of tears.
christian art painting
christian art painting
"Oh, no!" I cried. "No, no, no! I don't believe anything. I answered you the first thing that came into my head. Don't you seeI am very busy with matters of consequence!"
He stared at me, thunderstruck.
"Matters of consequence!"
He looked at me there, with my hammer in my hand, my fingers black with engine-grease, bending over an object which seemed to him extremely ugly…
"You talk just like the grown-ups!"
That made me a little ashamed. But he went on, relentlessly:
"You mix everything up together…You confuse everything…"
He was really very angry. He tossed his golden curls in the breeze.
The little prince was now white with rage.
"The flowers have been growing thorns for millions of years. For millions of years the sheep have been eating them just the same. And is it not a matter of consequence to try to understand why the flowers go to so much trouble to grow thorns which are never of any use to them? Is the warfare between the sheep and the flowers not important? And if I knowI,
"Oh, no!" I cried. "No, no, no! I don't believe anything. I answered you the first thing that came into my head. Don't you seeI am very busy with matters of consequence!"
He stared at me, thunderstruck.
"Matters of consequence!"
He looked at me there, with my hammer in my hand, my fingers black with engine-grease, bending over an object which seemed to him extremely ugly…
"You talk just like the grown-ups!"
That made me a little ashamed. But he went on, relentlessly:
"You mix everything up together…You confuse everything…"
He was really very angry. He tossed his golden curls in the breeze.
The little prince was now white with rage.
"The flowers have been growing thorns for millions of years. For millions of years the sheep have been eating them just the same. And is it not a matter of consequence to try to understand why the flowers go to so much trouble to grow thorns which are never of any use to them? Is the warfare between the sheep and the flowers not important? And if I knowI,
acrylic art painting
acrylic art painting
Then the thornswhat use are they?"
I did not know. At that moment I was very busy trying to unscrew a bolt that had got stuck in my engine. I was very much worried, for it was becoming clear to me that the breakdown of my plane was extremely serious. And I had so little drinking-water left that I had to fear for the worst.
"The thornswhat use are they?"
The little prince never let go of a question, once he had asked it. As for me, I was upset over that bolt. And I answered with the first thing that came into my head:
"The thorns are of no use at all. Flowers have thorns just for spite."
"Oh!"
There was a moment of complete silence. Then the little prince flashed back at me, with a kind of resentfulness:
"I don't believe you! Flowers are weak creature. They are native. They reassure themselves at best they can. They believe that their thorns are terrible weapons…"
I did not answer. At that instant I was saying to myself: "If this bolt still won't turn, I am going to knock it out with the hammer." Again the little price disturbed my thoughts.
"And you actually believe that the flowers"
Then the thornswhat use are they?"
I did not know. At that moment I was very busy trying to unscrew a bolt that had got stuck in my engine. I was very much worried, for it was becoming clear to me that the breakdown of my plane was extremely serious. And I had so little drinking-water left that I had to fear for the worst.
"The thornswhat use are they?"
The little prince never let go of a question, once he had asked it. As for me, I was upset over that bolt. And I answered with the first thing that came into my head:
"The thorns are of no use at all. Flowers have thorns just for spite."
"Oh!"
There was a moment of complete silence. Then the little prince flashed back at me, with a kind of resentfulness:
"I don't believe you! Flowers are weak creature. They are native. They reassure themselves at best they can. They believe that their thorns are terrible weapons…"
I did not answer. At that instant I was saying to myself: "If this bolt still won't turn, I am going to knock it out with the hammer." Again the little price disturbed my thoughts.
"And you actually believe that the flowers"
famous horse painting
famous horse painting
我盯着周泰，沉声道：“兄长，你我二人难道真得要兄弟相残吗？”
周泰避开我的眼神，大声喝道：“谁跟你是兄弟，你若要伤害二公子，先问问我周泰手中刀答不答应！”
周泰的话说得斩钉截铁，当初的那些个誓言尤在我耳边，如今我们这一对结义兄弟却要落到这般反目的境地，究竟是因为什么？
此时此刻，我心已大乱，真的与周泰交手，我现在还做不到。
“你周泰不认我这个兄弟，我却还认得——。”我大声说罢，虚晃一招，拔马朝着斜刺小路奔了下去。
过了秣陵，我终于打探到主公刘繇与太史慈的消息，刘繇与许邵率一众兵士退守到了豫章郡的彭泽，而太史慈在神亭岭突围之后，引残兵退往了丹杨郡中最偏远的泾县。
我心中大喜，只要出了这秣陵地界，就不用再过这东躲西藏的日子了，我向知晓山路的乡民问明了方向，备足了干粮向着泾县出发。。
泾县为群山环抱之地，多山贼宗寇聚集山林，前年为山越大帅祖郎所占，去岁年中孙策攻泾县，被祖郎围困在阴陵，而幸得程普驱马疾呼，舍死冲杀，方突围而出。这泾县人口本就不多，历经战乱之后，境内更是人烟稀少，百姓纷纷逃难而去。如今仅在县治所在和阴陵两处聚拢了些山民。
我盯着周泰，沉声道：“兄长，你我二人难道真得要兄弟相残吗？”
周泰避开我的眼神，大声喝道：“谁跟你是兄弟，你若要伤害二公子，先问问我周泰手中刀答不答应！”
周泰的话说得斩钉截铁，当初的那些个誓言尤在我耳边，如今我们这一对结义兄弟却要落到这般反目的境地，究竟是因为什么？
此时此刻，我心已大乱，真的与周泰交手，我现在还做不到。
“你周泰不认我这个兄弟，我却还认得——。”我大声说罢，虚晃一招，拔马朝着斜刺小路奔了下去。
过了秣陵，我终于打探到主公刘繇与太史慈的消息，刘繇与许邵率一众兵士退守到了豫章郡的彭泽，而太史慈在神亭岭突围之后，引残兵退往了丹杨郡中最偏远的泾县。
我心中大喜，只要出了这秣陵地界，就不用再过这东躲西藏的日子了，我向知晓山路的乡民问明了方向，备足了干粮向着泾县出发。。
泾县为群山环抱之地，多山贼宗寇聚集山林，前年为山越大帅祖郎所占，去岁年中孙策攻泾县，被祖郎围困在阴陵，而幸得程普驱马疾呼，舍死冲杀，方突围而出。这泾县人口本就不多，历经战乱之后，境内更是人烟稀少，百姓纷纷逃难而去。如今仅在县治所在和阴陵两处聚拢了些山民。
abstract acrylic painting
abstract acrylic painting
fantasy art painting
western art painting
realism art painting
然许贡联军人数占优，但由于所部士卒大多刚募集的佃户奴仆，经过军事训练的算起来大约不到三成，加之装备上的劣势，战力与朱治的精卒相差甚远。
在这五千人中，战斗力最强的无疑是许贡和严白虎的部队，按常理他们应该是排在队列的最前方，而现在却正好相反，战斗力较差的四姓和豪族部曲被推到了最前沿，在他的后面是许贡的二千私兵，在他的两侧是游弋的严白虎军。
这样的漏斗阵形一旦接战，极容易被敌方从正面突破，而前阵的溃败将冲散后队的阵形，从而导致整军的溃散，也许只有许贡这样的外行才会摆出这样的必输阵式。对于四姓豪族来说，这样的形势极为不利，可以说是身处死地，要想死中求活，实是难上加难。
“现在前有敌兵、后有许贡相逼、左右又有严白虎环伺，真正是绝地呀？”张允长叹道。
“许贡老贼，老子跟你拼了！”朱桓怒骂道。
事关生死，为防备许贡耳目听到，我从朱治大营赶回后，只觅了个机会向陆逊一个人说了与朱治合谋之事，其它的顾雍、张允、朱桓都还不知。
fantasy art painting
western art painting
realism art painting
然许贡联军人数占优，但由于所部士卒大多刚募集的佃户奴仆，经过军事训练的算起来大约不到三成，加之装备上的劣势，战力与朱治的精卒相差甚远。
在这五千人中，战斗力最强的无疑是许贡和严白虎的部队，按常理他们应该是排在队列的最前方，而现在却正好相反，战斗力较差的四姓和豪族部曲被推到了最前沿，在他的后面是许贡的二千私兵，在他的两侧是游弋的严白虎军。
这样的漏斗阵形一旦接战，极容易被敌方从正面突破，而前阵的溃败将冲散后队的阵形，从而导致整军的溃散，也许只有许贡这样的外行才会摆出这样的必输阵式。对于四姓豪族来说，这样的形势极为不利，可以说是身处死地，要想死中求活，实是难上加难。
“现在前有敌兵、后有许贡相逼、左右又有严白虎环伺，真正是绝地呀？”张允长叹道。
“许贡老贼，老子跟你拼了！”朱桓怒骂道。
事关生死，为防备许贡耳目听到，我从朱治大营赶回后，只觅了个机会向陆逊一个人说了与朱治合谋之事，其它的顾雍、张允、朱桓都还不知。
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
the last supper painting
the last supper painting
若是等到周泰站起攻击，我就只能束手待擒了，此刻我再也管不了其它，不等周泰站起，揉身而上，一把抱住周泰，用右手紧紧勒住他的脖子，周泰完全没有想到我居然会不顾一切的扑上来，这一种近身肉博的战法可说近似无赖，使得他手中空有利斧却毫无用处，相反的倒成了拖累。
周泰连忙用力挣扎，不停地用斧柄朝我猛刺，想把我赶开。而我则是奋力紧紧的收紧胳膊，和他一起倒在地上，滚成一团。
旁边的众贼没有料到最后会是这样一个局面，也都不知道如何是好，刀枪剑戟都递不出去，怕伤到周泰，只能围着两个纠缠在一起的人，团团乱转。
在这样的僵持中，时间就这样一点一点的过去，在我的感觉中，仿佛已经过了很漫长很漫长的时光，我的身上已经被周泰的斧柄连插了数下，肋下原本扎紧的伤口再次迸裂鲜血长流，而我刚劲的右臂也让周泰感到了窒息的绝望。
靠着岸边的这条河叫西风塘，它的两头连通着一个大湖和一条入海的大江，深秋的芦苇夹带着片片金黄，如凌空飞舞的蝶花漫卷空中，清澈见底的河面上更有渔舟唱晚，这本是绝美的一道风景，却无端被岸边一群围观的人大刹了风景。
若是等到周泰站起攻击，我就只能束手待擒了，此刻我再也管不了其它，不等周泰站起，揉身而上，一把抱住周泰，用右手紧紧勒住他的脖子，周泰完全没有想到我居然会不顾一切的扑上来，这一种近身肉博的战法可说近似无赖，使得他手中空有利斧却毫无用处，相反的倒成了拖累。
周泰连忙用力挣扎，不停地用斧柄朝我猛刺，想把我赶开。而我则是奋力紧紧的收紧胳膊，和他一起倒在地上，滚成一团。
旁边的众贼没有料到最后会是这样一个局面，也都不知道如何是好，刀枪剑戟都递不出去，怕伤到周泰，只能围着两个纠缠在一起的人，团团乱转。
在这样的僵持中，时间就这样一点一点的过去，在我的感觉中，仿佛已经过了很漫长很漫长的时光，我的身上已经被周泰的斧柄连插了数下，肋下原本扎紧的伤口再次迸裂鲜血长流，而我刚劲的右臂也让周泰感到了窒息的绝望。
靠着岸边的这条河叫西风塘，它的两头连通着一个大湖和一条入海的大江，深秋的芦苇夹带着片片金黄，如凌空飞舞的蝶花漫卷空中，清澈见底的河面上更有渔舟唱晚，这本是绝美的一道风景，却无端被岸边一群围观的人大刹了风景。
oil painting artist
oil painting artist
昨天傍晚，与我们对峙了近一年的袁术大军突然发力，乘着夜色渡过长江天堑，敌人的攻势是如此的凶猛，几乎是在转瞬之间就将我们的营盘冲得七零八落，统领我们的张英将军出寨迎战，也只是打了几个回合就被对阵的敌将杀得落荒而逃。而留给我们这些个来不及逃跑的士卒的，除了投降一途外，就只有面对死亡了。
听说这次敌人的统帅是那个三日便陷了庐江的屠夫孙伯符，还有他父亲孙坚麾下的那一帮征讨过董卓的悍将，与这些久经战阵的老兵相比，我们这些新兵完全不是对手。
镇守在当利口的一万士卒仅仅过了二个时辰，亡者三千，降四千众，余者皆溃散。上下不过三百余年，江东子弟早已不再是那个敢于跟随项羽举义旗反抗暴秦的轻狂少年。
远处点点的火光越移越近，夹杂着喝斥的叫骂声，我知道那是敌人正在清扫战场，并将投降的俘虏羁押到一处，用不了多久，敌人就会搜索到我这里。
“咳——！”我扯下战袍的一角，极力抑制住阵阵痛楚，将出血的伤口扎得紧紧的。
手中长约丈八的矟是如此的沉重，让我第一次有了要遗弃的念头，我还记得那次在新兵演军场上拿起它，然后骑上战马平端起马矟冲刺，心中顿时涌动着的激动和狂喜，对于象我这样出身低微的人来说，改变命运的最好办法就是拿起武器，用自已的性命到战场上去赌、去博，去杀戳。
昨天傍晚，与我们对峙了近一年的袁术大军突然发力，乘着夜色渡过长江天堑，敌人的攻势是如此的凶猛，几乎是在转瞬之间就将我们的营盘冲得七零八落，统领我们的张英将军出寨迎战，也只是打了几个回合就被对阵的敌将杀得落荒而逃。而留给我们这些个来不及逃跑的士卒的，除了投降一途外，就只有面对死亡了。
听说这次敌人的统帅是那个三日便陷了庐江的屠夫孙伯符，还有他父亲孙坚麾下的那一帮征讨过董卓的悍将，与这些久经战阵的老兵相比，我们这些新兵完全不是对手。
镇守在当利口的一万士卒仅仅过了二个时辰，亡者三千，降四千众，余者皆溃散。上下不过三百余年，江东子弟早已不再是那个敢于跟随项羽举义旗反抗暴秦的轻狂少年。
远处点点的火光越移越近，夹杂着喝斥的叫骂声，我知道那是敌人正在清扫战场，并将投降的俘虏羁押到一处，用不了多久，敌人就会搜索到我这里。
“咳——！”我扯下战袍的一角，极力抑制住阵阵痛楚，将出血的伤口扎得紧紧的。
手中长约丈八的矟是如此的沉重，让我第一次有了要遗弃的念头，我还记得那次在新兵演军场上拿起它，然后骑上战马平端起马矟冲刺，心中顿时涌动着的激动和狂喜，对于象我这样出身低微的人来说，改变命运的最好办法就是拿起武器，用自已的性命到战场上去赌、去博，去杀戳。
Monday, May 5, 2008
oil painting for sale
oil painting for sale
韩国媒体一再指责此次行动是中国驻韩使馆组织、动员，甚至有极个别极端团体扬言要控告中国驻韩大使，既无任何事实根据，更无任何法律依据和道义理由：哪一条国际法规定驻外使馆不能和本国留学生之间有来往？
更为奇怪的是，韩国媒体众口一词、无限上纲地攻击中国时，竟然没有一人给出强有力地调查结论：冲突到底因谁而起？还没调查就能断言肇事的罪魁祸首是中国留学生？有没有中国留学生受伤？为何没有一家媒体关注中国留学生关于抗议团体率先动手的辩解？
显然，此次冲突确然如中国外交部发言人姜瑜所言那样是「事出有因」，而且追究责任时，当然不能忘了参与冲突的韩国公民，将责任全部归咎于中国学生无疑是站不住脚的。
岛民心态狭隘极端
[ 转自铁血社区 http://bbs.tiexue.net/ ]
如果真有中国学生在冲突中施暴，当然应该予以批评谴责；但是，韩国媒体这种只渲染结果、全然不顾起因，只关注韩国人受伤、全然不调查祸首，只声讨中国人的责任、全然不反省参与抗议和冲突的本国人责任，而且一再上纲上线、肆意渲染的作派，该作何解释？
韩国媒体一再指责此次行动是中国驻韩使馆组织、动员，甚至有极个别极端团体扬言要控告中国驻韩大使，既无任何事实根据，更无任何法律依据和道义理由：哪一条国际法规定驻外使馆不能和本国留学生之间有来往？
更为奇怪的是，韩国媒体众口一词、无限上纲地攻击中国时，竟然没有一人给出强有力地调查结论：冲突到底因谁而起？还没调查就能断言肇事的罪魁祸首是中国留学生？有没有中国留学生受伤？为何没有一家媒体关注中国留学生关于抗议团体率先动手的辩解？
显然，此次冲突确然如中国外交部发言人姜瑜所言那样是「事出有因」，而且追究责任时，当然不能忘了参与冲突的韩国公民，将责任全部归咎于中国学生无疑是站不住脚的。
岛民心态狭隘极端
[ 转自铁血社区 http://bbs.tiexue.net/ ]
如果真有中国学生在冲突中施暴，当然应该予以批评谴责；但是，韩国媒体这种只渲染结果、全然不顾起因，只关注韩国人受伤、全然不调查祸首，只声讨中国人的责任、全然不反省参与抗议和冲突的本国人责任，而且一再上纲上线、肆意渲染的作派，该作何解释？
Sunday, May 4, 2008
contemporary abstract painting
contemporary abstract painting
韩联社沈阳5月2日电 沈阳市公安1日对民营旅馆开展大规模突击检查。 韩国驻沈阳总领事表示，市公安部门对民营旅馆开展察访询问过程中带走了15名韩国人，警方对他们进行简单的调查后，全部予以释放。 沈阳公安部门自当天0时至凌晨，针对在韩国风情街--西塔街一带的民营旅馆开展突击检查，将50多名业主和投宿客带到派出所，调查是否进行过住宿登记等。 居住在西塔街的一位侨民表示，被带到派出所的投宿客中除了韩国人之外，还包括日本人和美国人. 中国接连取消大型演出 韩国文化活动也告吹
韩联社北京5月2日电 为保证安全，中国政府在北京奥运会前夕接连取消海外演出，连韩国正在筹备的活动也未能幸免。
韩国驻中国使馆和韩国驻中国文化院原定1日至3日在北京市中心的世贸天阶举行祝愿2008年北京奥运会举办成功的韩国文化庆典，但计划最终泡汤。
使馆有关负责人表示："上月25日获得中国文化部的批准，但北京市公安局的批准比预计晚了一些。我们认为活动很难正常进行，所以28日取消了演出。我们计划重新准备，于7月末举行活动。"
另外，街舞组合的中国巡演也在演出前一刻被取消。
另外，街舞组合的中国巡演也在演出前一刻被取消。(这就是中国外交艺术!赞)
韩联社沈阳5月2日电 沈阳市公安1日对民营旅馆开展大规模突击检查。 韩国驻沈阳总领事表示，市公安部门对民营旅馆开展察访询问过程中带走了15名韩国人，警方对他们进行简单的调查后，全部予以释放。 沈阳公安部门自当天0时至凌晨，针对在韩国风情街--西塔街一带的民营旅馆开展突击检查，将50多名业主和投宿客带到派出所，调查是否进行过住宿登记等。 居住在西塔街的一位侨民表示，被带到派出所的投宿客中除了韩国人之外，还包括日本人和美国人. 中国接连取消大型演出 韩国文化活动也告吹
韩联社北京5月2日电 为保证安全，中国政府在北京奥运会前夕接连取消海外演出，连韩国正在筹备的活动也未能幸免。
韩国驻中国使馆和韩国驻中国文化院原定1日至3日在北京市中心的世贸天阶举行祝愿2008年北京奥运会举办成功的韩国文化庆典，但计划最终泡汤。
使馆有关负责人表示："上月25日获得中国文化部的批准，但北京市公安局的批准比预计晚了一些。我们认为活动很难正常进行，所以28日取消了演出。我们计划重新准备，于7月末举行活动。"
另外，街舞组合的中国巡演也在演出前一刻被取消。
另外，街舞组合的中国巡演也在演出前一刻被取消。(这就是中国外交艺术!赞)
nude art painting
nude art painting
中国在朝鲜问题上居中调停，其实也是勉强而为之，这是因为双方"冷友好"的关系而决定的。从邓时代开始，中国对朝政策就看美国人脸色，没有独立性可言，在一段时间内还把朝鲜当成"要饭的"加以，当年与韩国建交，事先都不通知朝鲜，曾背离了中国历来主张大小国家一律平等的原则，也伤透了朝鲜人民的心，但金氏父子在对美、对日、对台关系等与中国有争议的原则问题上却一直没有出卖过中国。现在中国想重打朝鲜牌，也只能通过能源、粮食、轻工业品的援助，以求金正日给个面子。虽然金胖子也发发小脾气还还价，但最终这个面子还是要给的。
美军在三八线南面磨刀霍霍，中国终于从爆出的点点火星中嗅出朝鲜半岛将要灾难临头。当"非典"肆虐时，一个由中央书记处召集，有在京的政治局委员参加，军队、武警、公安部、安全部等主要领导列席的会议在京郊进行。要议的核心问题，就是如何通过对周边局势的有效控制，保证中国有一个相对安定的周边环境，能够集中精力做好对台湾军事斗争准备，实现十六大提出本世纪三大任务之一的统一台湾问题。议决的基本策略就是亦文亦武。"文"已搞了了二十多年，就不再赘述。所谓"武"不是挑动战争，而是示强于敌，进行"反遏止"。这次会议将"示武"作为实现外交政策的手段，是中共十六大以来对外政策的一个重大变化。
中国在朝鲜问题上居中调停，其实也是勉强而为之，这是因为双方"冷友好"的关系而决定的。从邓时代开始，中国对朝政策就看美国人脸色，没有独立性可言，在一段时间内还把朝鲜当成"要饭的"加以，当年与韩国建交，事先都不通知朝鲜，曾背离了中国历来主张大小国家一律平等的原则，也伤透了朝鲜人民的心，但金氏父子在对美、对日、对台关系等与中国有争议的原则问题上却一直没有出卖过中国。现在中国想重打朝鲜牌，也只能通过能源、粮食、轻工业品的援助，以求金正日给个面子。虽然金胖子也发发小脾气还还价，但最终这个面子还是要给的。
美军在三八线南面磨刀霍霍，中国终于从爆出的点点火星中嗅出朝鲜半岛将要灾难临头。当"非典"肆虐时，一个由中央书记处召集，有在京的政治局委员参加，军队、武警、公安部、安全部等主要领导列席的会议在京郊进行。要议的核心问题，就是如何通过对周边局势的有效控制，保证中国有一个相对安定的周边环境，能够集中精力做好对台湾军事斗争准备，实现十六大提出本世纪三大任务之一的统一台湾问题。议决的基本策略就是亦文亦武。"文"已搞了了二十多年，就不再赘述。所谓"武"不是挑动战争，而是示强于敌，进行"反遏止"。这次会议将"示武"作为实现外交政策的手段，是中共十六大以来对外政策的一个重大变化。
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