the last supper

the last supper
the last supper painting
picture of the last supper
leonardo da vinci last supper painting
He held the knife in his hand, and pushed its point between my teeth: but, for my part, I was never much afraid of his vagaries. I spat out, and affirmed it tasted detestably--I would not take it on any account.
`Oh!' said he, releasing me, `I see that hideous little villain is not Hareton: I beg your pardon, Nell. If it be, he deserves flaying alive for not running to welcome me, and for screaming as if I were a goblin. Unnatural cub, come hither! I'll teach thee to impose on a good-hearted, deluded father. Now, don't you think the lad would be handsomer cropped? It makes a dog fiercer, and I love
oil painting
　 something fierce--get me a scissors--something fierce and trim! Besides, it's infernal affectation--devilish conceit it is, to cherish our ears--we're asses enough without them. Hush, child, hush! Well then, it is my darling! wisht, dry thy eyes--there's a joy; kiss me. What! it won't? Kiss me, Hareton! Damn thee, kiss me! By God, as if 1 would rear such a monster! As sure as I'm living, I'll break the brat's neck.'
Poor Hareton was squalling and kicking in his father's arms with all his might, and redoubled his yells when he carried him upstairs and lifted him over the banister. I cried out that he would frighten the