Monet Hyde Park London painting
Monet Impression Sunrise painting
Monet In The Woods At Giverny painting
Monet La Grenouillere painting
Tom took his whipping and went back to his seat not at all broken-hearted, for he thought it was possible that he had unknowingly upset the ink on the spelling-book himself, in some skylarking bout -- he had denied it for form's sake and because it was custom, and had stuck to the denial from principle.
A whole hour drifted by, the master sat nodding in his throne, the air was drowsy with the hum of study. By and by, Mr. Dobbins straightened himself up, yawned, then unlocked his desk, and reached for his book, but seemed undecided whether to take it out or leave it. Most of the pupils glanced up languidly, but there were two among them that watched his movements with intent eyes. Mr. Dobbins fingered his book absently for a while, then took it out and settled himself in his chair to read! Tom shot a glance at Becky. He had seen a hunted and helpless rabbit look as she did, with a gun levelled at its head. Instantly he forgot his quarrel with her. Quick -- something must be done! done in a flash, too! But the very imminence of the emergency paralyzed his invention. Good! -- he had an inspiration! He would run and snatch the
-200-book, spring through the door and fly. But his resolution shook for one little instant, and the chance was lost -- the master opened the volume. If Tom only had the wasted opportunity
Friday, May 30, 2008
Perez sevillana painting
Perez sevillana painting
Perez smoking under light painting
Perez sombrerorojoplum painting
Perez Sophia painting
was; he tried not to seem to see the looks or hear the remarks as he passed along, but they were food and drink to him. Smaller boys than himself flocked at his heels, as proud to be seen with him, and tolerated by him, as
-184-if he had been the drummer at the head of a procession or the elephant leading a menagerie into town. Boys of his own size pretended not to know he had been away at all; but they were consuming with envy, nevertheless. They would have given anything to have that swarthy suntanned skin of his, and his glittering notoriety; and Tom would not have parted with either for a circus.
At school the children made so much of him and of Joe, and delivered such eloquent admiration from their eyes, that the two heroes were not long in becoming insufferably "stuck-up." They began to tell their adventures to hungry listeners -- but they only began; it was not a thing likely to have an end, with imaginations like theirs to furnish material. And finally, when they got out their pipes and went serenely puffing around, the very summit of glory was reached.
Perez smoking under light painting
Perez sombrerorojoplum painting
Perez Sophia painting
was; he tried not to seem to see the looks or hear the remarks as he passed along, but they were food and drink to him. Smaller boys than himself flocked at his heels, as proud to be seen with him, and tolerated by him, as
-184-if he had been the drummer at the head of a procession or the elephant leading a menagerie into town. Boys of his own size pretended not to know he had been away at all; but they were consuming with envy, nevertheless. They would have given anything to have that swarthy suntanned skin of his, and his glittering notoriety; and Tom would not have parted with either for a circus.
At school the children made so much of him and of Joe, and delivered such eloquent admiration from their eyes, that the two heroes were not long in becoming insufferably "stuck-up." They began to tell their adventures to hungry listeners -- but they only began; it was not a thing likely to have an end, with imaginations like theirs to furnish material. And finally, when they got out their pipes and went serenely puffing around, the very summit of glory was reached.
Perez geisha II painting
Perez geisha II painting
Perez geisha iii painting
Perez geisha painting
Perez geishaenturquesa painting
The boys cried out to each other, but the roaring wind and the booming thunder-blasts drowned their voices utterly. However, one by one they straggled in at last and took shelter under the tent, cold, scared, and streaming with water; but to have company in misery seemed something to be grateful for. They could not talk, the old sail flapped so furiously, even if the other noises would have allowed them. The tempest rose higher and higher, and presently the sail tore loose from its fastenings and went winging away on the blast. The boys seized each others' hands and fled, with many tumblings and bruises, to the shelter of a great oak that stood upon the river-bank. Now the battle was at its highest. Under the ceaseless conflagration of lightning that flamed in the skies, everything below stood out in clean-cut and shadowless distinctness: the bending trees, the billowy
-170-river, white with foam, the driving spray of spume-flakes, the dim outlines of the high bluffs on the other side, glimpsed through the drifting cloud-rack and the slanting veil of rain. Every little while some giant tree yielded the fight and fell crashing through the younger growth; and the unflagging thunder-peals came now in ear-splitting explosive bursts, keen and sharp
Perez geisha iii painting
Perez geisha painting
Perez geishaenturquesa painting
The boys cried out to each other, but the roaring wind and the booming thunder-blasts drowned their voices utterly. However, one by one they straggled in at last and took shelter under the tent, cold, scared, and streaming with water; but to have company in misery seemed something to be grateful for. They could not talk, the old sail flapped so furiously, even if the other noises would have allowed them. The tempest rose higher and higher, and presently the sail tore loose from its fastenings and went winging away on the blast. The boys seized each others' hands and fled, with many tumblings and bruises, to the shelter of a great oak that stood upon the river-bank. Now the battle was at its highest. Under the ceaseless conflagration of lightning that flamed in the skies, everything below stood out in clean-cut and shadowless distinctness: the bending trees, the billowy
-170-river, white with foam, the driving spray of spume-flakes, the dim outlines of the high bluffs on the other side, glimpsed through the drifting cloud-rack and the slanting veil of rain. Every little while some giant tree yielded the fight and fell crashing through the younger growth; and the unflagging thunder-peals came now in ear-splitting explosive bursts, keen and sharp
wholesale oil painting
wholesale oil painting
Well, we'll let the cry-baby go home to his mother, won't we, Huck? Poor thing -- does it want to see its mother? And so it shall. You like it here, don't you, Huck? We'll stay, won't we?"
Huck said, "Y-e-s" -- without any heart in it.
"I'll never speak to you again as long as I live," said Joe, rising. "There now!" And he moved moodily away and began to dress himself.
"Who cares!" said Tom. "Nobody wants you to. Go 'long home and get laughed at. Oh, you're a nice pirate. Huck and me ain't cry-babies. We'll stay, won't we, Huck? Let him go if he wants to. I reckon we can get along without him, per'aps."
But Tom was uneasy, nevertheless, and was alarmed to see Joe go sullenly on with his dressing. And then it was discomforting to see Huck eying Joe's preparations so wistfully, and keeping up such an ominous silence. Presently, without a parting word, Joe began to wade off toward the Illinois shore. Tom's heart began to sink. He glanced at Huck. Huck could not bear the look, and dropped his eyes. Then he said:
"I want to go, too, Tom. It was getting so lonesome anyway, and now it'll be worse. Let's us go, too, Tom."
Well, we'll let the cry-baby go home to his mother, won't we, Huck? Poor thing -- does it want to see its mother? And so it shall. You like it here, don't you, Huck? We'll stay, won't we?"
Huck said, "Y-e-s" -- without any heart in it.
"I'll never speak to you again as long as I live," said Joe, rising. "There now!" And he moved moodily away and began to dress himself.
"Who cares!" said Tom. "Nobody wants you to. Go 'long home and get laughed at. Oh, you're a nice pirate. Huck and me ain't cry-babies. We'll stay, won't we, Huck? Let him go if he wants to. I reckon we can get along without him, per'aps."
But Tom was uneasy, nevertheless, and was alarmed to see Joe go sullenly on with his dressing. And then it was discomforting to see Huck eying Joe's preparations so wistfully, and keeping up such an ominous silence. Presently, without a parting word, Joe began to wade off toward the Illinois shore. Tom's heart began to sink. He glanced at Huck. Huck could not bear the look, and dropped his eyes. Then he said:
"I want to go, too, Tom. It was getting so lonesome anyway, and now it'll be worse. Let's us go, too, Tom."
Frank Dicksee paintings
Frank Dicksee paintings
Edwin Lord Weeks paintings
Fabian Perez paintings
Francois Boucher paintings
He had to keep still long after she went to bed, for she kept making broken-hearted ejaculations from time to time, tossing unrestfully, and turning over. But at last she was still, only moaning a
-158-little in her sleep. Now the boy stole out, rose gradually by the bedside, shaded the candle-light with his hand, and stood regarding her. His heart was full of pity for her. He took out his sycamore scroll and placed it by the candle. But something occurred to him, and he lingered considering. His face lighted with a happy solution of his thought; he put the bark hastily in his pocket. Then he bent over and kissed the faded lips, and straightway made his stealthy exit, latching the door behind him.
He threaded his way back to the ferry landing, found nobody at large there, and walked boldly on board the boat, for he knew she was tenantless except that there was a watchman, who always turned in and slept like a graven image. He untied the skiff at the stern, slipped into it, and was soon rowing cautiously upstream. When he had pulled a mile above the
Edwin Lord Weeks paintings
Fabian Perez paintings
Francois Boucher paintings
He had to keep still long after she went to bed, for she kept making broken-hearted ejaculations from time to time, tossing unrestfully, and turning over. But at last she was still, only moaning a
-158-little in her sleep. Now the boy stole out, rose gradually by the bedside, shaded the candle-light with his hand, and stood regarding her. His heart was full of pity for her. He took out his sycamore scroll and placed it by the candle. But something occurred to him, and he lingered considering. His face lighted with a happy solution of his thought; he put the bark hastily in his pocket. Then he bent over and kissed the faded lips, and straightway made his stealthy exit, latching the door behind him.
He threaded his way back to the ferry landing, found nobody at large there, and walked boldly on board the boat, for he knew she was tenantless except that there was a watchman, who always turned in and slept like a graven image. He untied the skiff at the stern, slipped into it, and was soon rowing cautiously upstream. When he had pulled a mile above the
Thursday, May 29, 2008
painting in oil
painting in oil
At three o'clock in the afternoon, all the fashionable world at Nice may be seen on the Promenade des Anglais -- a charming place, for the wide walk, bordered with palms, flowers, and tropical shrubs, is bounded on one side by the sea, on the other by the grand drive, lined with hotels and villas, while beyond lie orange orchards and the hills. Many nations are represented, many languages spoken, many costumes worn, and on a sunny day the spectacle is as gay and brilliant as a carnival. Haughty English, lively French, sober Germans, handsome Spaniards, ugly Russians, meek Jews, free-and-easy Americans, all drive, sit, or saunter here, chatting over the news, and criticizing the latest celebrity who has arrived -- Ristori or Dickens, Victor Emmanuel or the Queen of the Sandwich Islands. The equipages are as varied as the company and attract as much attention, especially the low basket barouches in which ladies drive themselves, with a pair of dashing ponies, gay nets to keep their voluminous flounces from overflowing the diminutive vehicles, and little grooms on the perch behind.
At three o'clock in the afternoon, all the fashionable world at Nice may be seen on the Promenade des Anglais -- a charming place, for the wide walk, bordered with palms, flowers, and tropical shrubs, is bounded on one side by the sea, on the other by the grand drive, lined with hotels and villas, while beyond lie orange orchards and the hills. Many nations are represented, many languages spoken, many costumes worn, and on a sunny day the spectacle is as gay and brilliant as a carnival. Haughty English, lively French, sober Germans, handsome Spaniards, ugly Russians, meek Jews, free-and-easy Americans, all drive, sit, or saunter here, chatting over the news, and criticizing the latest celebrity who has arrived -- Ristori or Dickens, Victor Emmanuel or the Queen of the Sandwich Islands. The equipages are as varied as the company and attract as much attention, especially the low basket barouches in which ladies drive themselves, with a pair of dashing ponies, gay nets to keep their voluminous flounces from overflowing the diminutive vehicles, and little grooms on the perch behind.
Jean-Paul Laurens paintings
Jean-Paul Laurens paintings
Jules Breton paintings
Johannes Vermeer paintings
Jacques-Louis David paintings
Is this what made you so unhappy in the autumn, Beth? You did not feel it then, land keep it to yourself so long, did you?" asked Jo, refusing to see or say that it was best, but glad to know that Laurie had no part in Beth's trouble.
"Yes, I gave up hoping then, but I didn't like to own it. I tried to think it was a sick fancy, and would not let it trouble anyone. But when I saw you all so well and strong and full of happy plans, it was hard to feel that I could never be like you, and then I was miserable, Jo."
"Oh, Beth, and you didn't tell me, didn't let me comfort and help you? How could you shut me out, bear it all alone?"
Jo's voice was full of tender reproach, and her heart ached to think of the solitary struggle that must have gone on while Beth learned to say goodbye to health, love, and live, and take up her cross so cheerfully.
Jules Breton paintings
Johannes Vermeer paintings
Jacques-Louis David paintings
Is this what made you so unhappy in the autumn, Beth? You did not feel it then, land keep it to yourself so long, did you?" asked Jo, refusing to see or say that it was best, but glad to know that Laurie had no part in Beth's trouble.
"Yes, I gave up hoping then, but I didn't like to own it. I tried to think it was a sick fancy, and would not let it trouble anyone. But when I saw you all so well and strong and full of happy plans, it was hard to feel that I could never be like you, and then I was miserable, Jo."
"Oh, Beth, and you didn't tell me, didn't let me comfort and help you? How could you shut me out, bear it all alone?"
Jo's voice was full of tender reproach, and her heart ached to think of the solitary struggle that must have gone on while Beth learned to say goodbye to health, love, and live, and take up her cross so cheerfully.
Renoir Dance in the City painting
Renoir Dance in the City painting
Renoir Dance in the Country painting
Renoir Dance at Bougival painting
Renoir The Boating Party Lunch painting
"What old man?" demanded Jo, thinking he must mean his grandfather.
"That devilish Professor you were always writing about. If you say you love him, I know I shall do something desperate." And he looked as if he would keep his word, as he clenched his hands with a wrathful spark in his eyes.
Jo wanted to laugh, but restrained herself and said warmly, for she too, was getting excited with all this, "Don't swear, Teddy! He isn't old, nor anything bad, but good and kind, and the best friend I've got, next to you. Pray, don't fly into a passion. I want to be kind, but I know I shall get angry if you abuse my Professor. I haven't the least idea of loving him or anybody else."
"But you will after a while, and then what will become of me?"
"You'll love someone else too, like a sensible boy, and forget all this trouble."
"I can't love anyone else, and I'll never forget you, Jo, Never! Never!" with a stamp to emphasize his passionate words.
Renoir Dance in the Country painting
Renoir Dance at Bougival painting
Renoir The Boating Party Lunch painting
"What old man?" demanded Jo, thinking he must mean his grandfather.
"That devilish Professor you were always writing about. If you say you love him, I know I shall do something desperate." And he looked as if he would keep his word, as he clenched his hands with a wrathful spark in his eyes.
Jo wanted to laugh, but restrained herself and said warmly, for she too, was getting excited with all this, "Don't swear, Teddy! He isn't old, nor anything bad, but good and kind, and the best friend I've got, next to you. Pray, don't fly into a passion. I want to be kind, but I know I shall get angry if you abuse my Professor. I haven't the least idea of loving him or anybody else."
"But you will after a while, and then what will become of me?"
"You'll love someone else too, like a sensible boy, and forget all this trouble."
"I can't love anyone else, and I'll never forget you, Jo, Never! Never!" with a stamp to emphasize his passionate words.
Turner Keelmen heaving in coals by night painting
Turner Keelmen heaving in coals by night painting
Turner Chichester Canal painting
Turner The Wreck of a Transport Ship painting
Turner Pope's Villa, at Twickenham painting
"I fear I shall not make the time for that, but I wish the friend much success, and you all happiness. Gott bless you!" And with that, he shook hands warmly, shouldered Tina, and went away.
But after the boys were abed, he sat long before his fire with the tired look on his face and the `heimweh', or homesickness, lying heavy at his heart. Once, when he remembered Jo as she sat with the little child in her lap and that new softness in her face, he leaned his head on his hands a minute, and then roamed about the room, as if in search of something that he could not find.
"It is not for me, I must not hope it now," he said to himself, with a sigh that was almost a groan. Then, as if reproaching himself for the longing that he could not repress, he went and kissed the two tousled heads upon the pillow, took down his seldom-used meerschaum, and opened his Plato.
He did his best and did it manfully, but I don't think he found that a pair of rampant boys, a pipe, or even the divine Plato, were very satisfactory substitutes for wife and child at home
Turner Chichester Canal painting
Turner The Wreck of a Transport Ship painting
Turner Pope's Villa, at Twickenham painting
"I fear I shall not make the time for that, but I wish the friend much success, and you all happiness. Gott bless you!" And with that, he shook hands warmly, shouldered Tina, and went away.
But after the boys were abed, he sat long before his fire with the tired look on his face and the `heimweh', or homesickness, lying heavy at his heart. Once, when he remembered Jo as she sat with the little child in her lap and that new softness in her face, he leaned his head on his hands a minute, and then roamed about the room, as if in search of something that he could not find.
"It is not for me, I must not hope it now," he said to himself, with a sigh that was almost a groan. Then, as if reproaching himself for the longing that he could not repress, he went and kissed the two tousled heads upon the pillow, took down his seldom-used meerschaum, and opened his Plato.
He did his best and did it manfully, but I don't think he found that a pair of rampant boys, a pipe, or even the divine Plato, were very satisfactory substitutes for wife and child at home
Reni The Penitent Magdalene painting
Reni The Penitent Magdalene painting
Reni Bacchus And Ariadne painting
Reni St Cecilia painting
Cassatt The Cup of Tea painting
She was beginning to feel rather than see this, for much describing of other people's passions and feelings set her to studying and speculating about her own. a morbid amusement in which healthy young minds do not voluntarily indulge. Wrong-doing always brings its own punishment, and when Jo most needed hers, she got it.
I don't know whether the study of Shakespeare helped her to read character, or the natural instinct of a woman for what was honest, brave, and strong, but while endowing her imaginary heroes with every perfection under the sun, Jo was discovering a live hero, who interested her in spite of many human imperfections. Mr. Bhaer, in one of their conversations, had advised her to study simple, true, and lovely characters, wherever she found them, as good training for a writer. Jo took him at his word, for she coolly turned round and studied him -- a proceeding which would have much surprised him, had he know it, for the worthy Professor was very humble in his own conceit.
Reni Bacchus And Ariadne painting
Reni St Cecilia painting
Cassatt The Cup of Tea painting
She was beginning to feel rather than see this, for much describing of other people's passions and feelings set her to studying and speculating about her own. a morbid amusement in which healthy young minds do not voluntarily indulge. Wrong-doing always brings its own punishment, and when Jo most needed hers, she got it.
I don't know whether the study of Shakespeare helped her to read character, or the natural instinct of a woman for what was honest, brave, and strong, but while endowing her imaginary heroes with every perfection under the sun, Jo was discovering a live hero, who interested her in spite of many human imperfections. Mr. Bhaer, in one of their conversations, had advised her to study simple, true, and lovely characters, wherever she found them, as good training for a writer. Jo took him at his word, for she coolly turned round and studied him -- a proceeding which would have much surprised him, had he know it, for the worthy Professor was very humble in his own conceit.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Lady Laura Teresa Alma-Tadema paintings
Lady Laura Teresa Alma-Tadema paintings
Louise Abbema paintings
Leonardo da Vinci paintings
Lord Frederick Leighton paintings Laurie lay luxuriously swinging to and fro in his hammock one warm September afternoon, wondering what his neighbors were about, but too lazy to go and find out. He was in one of his moods, for the day had been both unprofitable and unsatisfactory, and he was wishing he could live it over again. The hot weather made him indolent, and he had shirked his studies, tried Mr. Brooke's patience to the utmost, displeased his grandfather by practicing half the afternoon, frightened the maidservants half out of their wits by mischievously hinting that one of his dogs was going mad, and, after high words with the stableman about some fancied neglect of his horse, he had flung himself into his hammock to fume over the stupidity of the world in general, till the peace of the lovely day quieted him in spite of himself. Staring up into the green gloom of the horse-chestnut trees above him, he dreamed dreams of all
Louise Abbema paintings
Leonardo da Vinci paintings
Lord Frederick Leighton paintings Laurie lay luxuriously swinging to and fro in his hammock one warm September afternoon, wondering what his neighbors were about, but too lazy to go and find out. He was in one of his moods, for the day had been both unprofitable and unsatisfactory, and he was wishing he could live it over again. The hot weather made him indolent, and he had shirked his studies, tried Mr. Brooke's patience to the utmost, displeased his grandfather by practicing half the afternoon, frightened the maidservants half out of their wits by mischievously hinting that one of his dogs was going mad, and, after high words with the stableman about some fancied neglect of his horse, he had flung himself into his hammock to fume over the stupidity of the world in general, till the peace of the lovely day quieted him in spite of himself. Staring up into the green gloom of the horse-chestnut trees above him, he dreamed dreams of all
Edward Hopper paintings
Edward Hopper paintings
Edgar Degas paintings
Emile Munier paintings
Edwin Lord Weeks paintings
Cabbages!'" continued Laurie promptly. "`Just the thing,' said the girl, and ran to get twelve fine ones from her garden. She put them on, the knights revived at once, thanked her, and went on their way rejoicing, never knowing the difference, for there were so many other heads like them in the world that no one thought anything of it. The knight in whom I'm interest went back to find the pretty face, and learned that the princesses had spun themselves free and all gone and married, but one. He was in a great state of mind at that, and mounting the colt, who stood by him through thick and thin, rushed to the castle to see which was left. Peeping over the hedge, he saw the queen of his affections picking flowers in her garden. `Will you give me a rose?' said he. `You must come and get it. I can't come to you, it isn't proper,' said she, as sweet as honey. He tried to climb over the hedge, but it seemed to grow higher and higher. Then he tried to push through, but it grew thicker and thicker, and he was in despair. So he patiently broke twig after twig till he had made a little hole through which he peeped, saying imploringly, `Let me in! Let me in!' But the pretty princess did not seem to understand, for she picked her roses quietly, and left him to fight his way in. Whether he did or not, Frank will tell you."
Edgar Degas paintings
Emile Munier paintings
Edwin Lord Weeks paintings
Cabbages!'" continued Laurie promptly. "`Just the thing,' said the girl, and ran to get twelve fine ones from her garden. She put them on, the knights revived at once, thanked her, and went on their way rejoicing, never knowing the difference, for there were so many other heads like them in the world that no one thought anything of it. The knight in whom I'm interest went back to find the pretty face, and learned that the princesses had spun themselves free and all gone and married, but one. He was in a great state of mind at that, and mounting the colt, who stood by him through thick and thin, rushed to the castle to see which was left. Peeping over the hedge, he saw the queen of his affections picking flowers in her garden. `Will you give me a rose?' said he. `You must come and get it. I can't come to you, it isn't proper,' said she, as sweet as honey. He tried to climb over the hedge, but it seemed to grow higher and higher. Then he tried to push through, but it grew thicker and thicker, and he was in despair. So he patiently broke twig after twig till he had made a little hole through which he peeped, saying imploringly, `Let me in! Let me in!' But the pretty princess did not seem to understand, for she picked her roses quietly, and left him to fight his way in. Whether he did or not, Frank will tell you."
Edward hopper paintings
Edward hopper paintings
Mary Cassatt paintings
gustav klimt paintings
oil painting reproduction
ball hit the wicket, and stopped an inch on the wrong side. No one was very near, and running up to examine, he gave it a sly nudge with his toe, which put it just an inch on the right side.
"I'm through! Now, Miss Jo, I'll settle you, and get in first," cried the young gentleman, swinging his mallet for another blow.
"You pushed it. I saw you. It's my turn now," said Jo sharply.
"Upon my word, I didn't move it. It rolled a bit, perhaps, but that is allowed. So, stand off please, and let me have a go at the stake."
"We don't cheat in America, but you can, if you choose," said Jo angrily.
"Yankees are a deal the most tricky, everybody knows. There you go!" returned Fred, croqueting her ball far away.
Jo opened her lips to say something rude, but checked herself in time, colored up to her forehead and stood a minute, hammering down a wicket with all her might, while Fred hit the
Mary Cassatt paintings
gustav klimt paintings
oil painting reproduction
ball hit the wicket, and stopped an inch on the wrong side. No one was very near, and running up to examine, he gave it a sly nudge with his toe, which put it just an inch on the right side.
"I'm through! Now, Miss Jo, I'll settle you, and get in first," cried the young gentleman, swinging his mallet for another blow.
"You pushed it. I saw you. It's my turn now," said Jo sharply.
"Upon my word, I didn't move it. It rolled a bit, perhaps, but that is allowed. So, stand off please, and let me have a go at the stake."
"We don't cheat in America, but you can, if you choose," said Jo angrily.
"Yankees are a deal the most tricky, everybody knows. There you go!" returned Fred, croqueting her ball far away.
Jo opened her lips to say something rude, but checked herself in time, colored up to her forehead and stood a minute, hammering down a wicket with all her might, while Fred hit the
Art Painting
Art Painting
"Suppose you learn plain cooking. That's a useful accomplishment, which no woman should be without," said Mrs. March, laughing inaudibly at the recollection of Jo's dinner party, for she had met Miss Crocker and heard her account of it.
"Mother, did you go away and let everything be, just to see how we'd get on?" cried Meg, who had had suspicions all day.
"Yes, I wanted you to see how the comfort of all depends on each doing her share faithfully. While Hannah and I did your work, you got on pretty well, though I don't think you were very happy or amiable. So I thought, as a little lesson, I would show you what happens when everyone thinks only of herself. Don't you feel that it is pleasanter to help one another, to have daily duties which make leisure sweet when it comes, and to bear and forbear, that home may be comfortable and lovely to us all?"
"We do, Mother we do!" cried the girls.
"Suppose you learn plain cooking. That's a useful accomplishment, which no woman should be without," said Mrs. March, laughing inaudibly at the recollection of Jo's dinner party, for she had met Miss Crocker and heard her account of it.
"Mother, did you go away and let everything be, just to see how we'd get on?" cried Meg, who had had suspicions all day.
"Yes, I wanted you to see how the comfort of all depends on each doing her share faithfully. While Hannah and I did your work, you got on pretty well, though I don't think you were very happy or amiable. So I thought, as a little lesson, I would show you what happens when everyone thinks only of herself. Don't you feel that it is pleasanter to help one another, to have daily duties which make leisure sweet when it comes, and to bear and forbear, that home may be comfortable and lovely to us all?"
"We do, Mother we do!" cried the girls.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Diane Romanello paintings
Diane Romanello paintings
Diego Rivera paintings
Don Li-Leger paintings
David Hardy paintings
"Yes, I will," answered Peter, still very subdued, for he did not yet know how the matter was going to end, as the police constable was still standing with the Uncle.
"That's right, and now the thing is over and done for," said grandmamma. "But I should like you to have something for a pleasant reminder of the visitors from Frankfurt. Can you tell me anything that you have wished very much to have? What would you like best as a present?"
Peter lifted his head at this, and stared open-eyed at grandmamma. Up to the last minute he had been expecting something dreadful to happen, and now he might have anything that he wanted. His mind seemed all of a whirl.
"I mean what I say," went on grandmamma. "You shall choose what you would like to have as a remembrance from the Frankfurt visitors, and as a token that they will not think any more of the wrong thing you did. Now do you understand me, boy?"
Diego Rivera paintings
Don Li-Leger paintings
David Hardy paintings
"Yes, I will," answered Peter, still very subdued, for he did not yet know how the matter was going to end, as the police constable was still standing with the Uncle.
"That's right, and now the thing is over and done for," said grandmamma. "But I should like you to have something for a pleasant reminder of the visitors from Frankfurt. Can you tell me anything that you have wished very much to have? What would you like best as a present?"
Peter lifted his head at this, and stared open-eyed at grandmamma. Up to the last minute he had been expecting something dreadful to happen, and now he might have anything that he wanted. His mind seemed all of a whirl.
"I mean what I say," went on grandmamma. "You shall choose what you would like to have as a remembrance from the Frankfurt visitors, and as a token that they will not think any more of the wrong thing you did. Now do you understand me, boy?"
Oil Painting Gallery
Oil Painting Gallery
Alfred Gockel paintings
Alexei Alexeivich Harlamoff paintings
Herr Sesemann suddenly stopped, staring at the two children, and all at once the tears started to his eyes. What memories arose in his heart! Just so had Clara's mother looked, the fair-haired girl with the delicate pink-and-white complexion. Herr Sesemann did not know if he was awake or dreaming.
"Don't you know me, papa?" called Clara to him, her face beaming with happiness. "Am I so altered since you saw me?"
Then Herr Sesemann ran to his child and clasped her in his arms.
"Yes, you are indeed altered! How is it possible? Is it true what I see?" And the delighted father stepped back to look full at her again, and to make sure that the picture would not vanish before his eyes.
"Are you my little Clara, really my little Clara? he kept on saying, then he clasped her in his arms again, and again put her away from him that he might look and make sure it was she who stood before him.
And now grandmamma came up, anxious for a sight of her son's happy face.
Alfred Gockel paintings
Alexei Alexeivich Harlamoff paintings
Herr Sesemann suddenly stopped, staring at the two children, and all at once the tears started to his eyes. What memories arose in his heart! Just so had Clara's mother looked, the fair-haired girl with the delicate pink-and-white complexion. Herr Sesemann did not know if he was awake or dreaming.
"Don't you know me, papa?" called Clara to him, her face beaming with happiness. "Am I so altered since you saw me?"
Then Herr Sesemann ran to his child and clasped her in his arms.
"Yes, you are indeed altered! How is it possible? Is it true what I see?" And the delighted father stepped back to look full at her again, and to make sure that the picture would not vanish before his eyes.
"Are you my little Clara, really my little Clara? he kept on saying, then he clasped her in his arms again, and again put her away from him that he might look and make sure it was she who stood before him.
And now grandmamma came up, anxious for a sight of her son's happy face.
Lady Laura Teresa Alma-Tadema paintings
Lady Laura Teresa Alma-Tadema paintings
Louise Abbema paintings
Leonardo da Vinci paintings
Lord Frederick Leighton paintings
The following days were some of the most joyous that Clara had spent on the mountain. She awoke each morning with a happy voice within her crying, "I am well now! I am well now! I shan't have to go about in a chair, I can walk by myself like other people."
-326-
Then came the walking, and every day she found it easier and was able to go a longer distance. The movement gave her such an appetite that the grandfather cut his bread and butter a little thicker each day, and was well pleased to see it disappear. He now brought out with it a large jugful of the foaming milk and filled her little bowl over and over again. And so another week went by and the day came which was to bring grandmamma up the mountain for her second visit.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
Louise Abbema paintings
Leonardo da Vinci paintings
Lord Frederick Leighton paintings
The following days were some of the most joyous that Clara had spent on the mountain. She awoke each morning with a happy voice within her crying, "I am well now! I am well now! I shan't have to go about in a chair, I can walk by myself like other people."
-326-
Then came the walking, and every day she found it easier and was able to go a longer distance. The movement gave her such an appetite that the grandfather cut his bread and butter a little thicker each day, and was well pleased to see it disappear. He now brought out with it a large jugful of the foaming milk and filled her little bowl over and over again. And so another week went by and the day came which was to bring grandmamma up the mountain for her second visit.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
Anne-Francois-Louis Janmot paintings
Anne-Francois-Louis Janmot paintings
Allan R.Banks paintings
Andrea Mantegna paintings
Arthur Hughes paintings
feel I have not the courage to refuse the child what I have been promising her all along, and for months now she has been living on the thought of it day and night. She bore this last bad attack so patiently because she was buoyed up with the hope that she should soon start on her Swiss journey, and see her friend Heidi again; and now must I tell the poor child, who has to give up so many pleasures, that this visit she has so long looked forward to must also be cancelled? I really have not the courage to do it."
"You must make up your mind to it, Sesemann," said the doctor with authority, and as his friend continued silent and dejected he went on after a pause, "Consider yourself how the matter stands. Clara has not had such a bad summer as this last one for years. Only the worst results would follow from the fatigue of such a journey, and it is out of the question
-219-for her. And then we are already in September, and although it may still be warm and fine up there, it may just as likely be already very cold. The days too are growing short, and as Clara
Allan R.Banks paintings
Andrea Mantegna paintings
Arthur Hughes paintings
feel I have not the courage to refuse the child what I have been promising her all along, and for months now she has been living on the thought of it day and night. She bore this last bad attack so patiently because she was buoyed up with the hope that she should soon start on her Swiss journey, and see her friend Heidi again; and now must I tell the poor child, who has to give up so many pleasures, that this visit she has so long looked forward to must also be cancelled? I really have not the courage to do it."
"You must make up your mind to it, Sesemann," said the doctor with authority, and as his friend continued silent and dejected he went on after a pause, "Consider yourself how the matter stands. Clara has not had such a bad summer as this last one for years. Only the worst results would follow from the fatigue of such a journey, and it is out of the question
-219-for her. And then we are already in September, and although it may still be warm and fine up there, it may just as likely be already very cold. The days too are growing short, and as Clara
Monday, May 26, 2008
Julien Dupre paintings
Julien Dupre paintings
Julius LeBlanc Stewart paintings
Jeffrey T.Larson paintings
Jean-Paul Laurens paintings
God's handiwork Is seen around, Things great and small To His praise abound -- Where are the signs of His love not found? All things must pass, But God shall still With steadfast power His will fulfil -- Sure and unshaken is His will. His saving grace Will never fail, Though grief and fear The heart assail -- O'er life's wild seas He will prevail. Joy shall be ours In that garden blest, Where after storm We find our rest -- I wait in peace -- God's time is best. The grandmother sat with folded hands and a look of indescribable joy on her face, such as Heidi had never seen there before, although at the same time the tears were running down her cheeks. As Heidi finished, she implored her, saying, "Read it once again, child, just once again."
And the child began again, with as much pleasure in the verses as the grandmother, -- Joy shall be ours In that garden blest, Where after storm We find our rest -- I wait in peace -- God's time is best.
"Ah, Heidi, that brings light to the heart! What comfort you have brought me!"
Julius LeBlanc Stewart paintings
Jeffrey T.Larson paintings
Jean-Paul Laurens paintings
God's handiwork Is seen around, Things great and small To His praise abound -- Where are the signs of His love not found? All things must pass, But God shall still With steadfast power His will fulfil -- Sure and unshaken is His will. His saving grace Will never fail, Though grief and fear The heart assail -- O'er life's wild seas He will prevail. Joy shall be ours In that garden blest, Where after storm We find our rest -- I wait in peace -- God's time is best. The grandmother sat with folded hands and a look of indescribable joy on her face, such as Heidi had never seen there before, although at the same time the tears were running down her cheeks. As Heidi finished, she implored her, saying, "Read it once again, child, just once again."
And the child began again, with as much pleasure in the verses as the grandmother, -- Joy shall be ours In that garden blest, Where after storm We find our rest -- I wait in peace -- God's time is best.
"Ah, Heidi, that brings light to the heart! What comfort you have brought me!"
Oil Painting Gallery
Oil Painting Gallery
Alfred Gockel paintings
Alexei Alexeivich Harlamoff paintings
Aubrey Beardsley paintings
"I shall be sure not to lose it," said Heidi confidently, and she at once put the roll and the letter at the bottom of her basket. The trunk meanwhile had been hoisted into the cart, and now Sebastian lifted Heidi and her basket on to the high seat and shook hands with her; he then made signs to her to keep her eye on the basket, for the driver was standing near and Sebastian thought it better to be careful, especially as he knew that he ought himself to have seen the child safely to her journey's end. The driver now swung himself up beside Heidi, and the cart rolled away in the direction of the mountains, while Sebastian, glad of having no tiring and dangerous journey on foot before him, sat down in the station and awaited the return train.
The driver of the car was the miller at Dörfli and was taking home his sacks of flour. He had never seen Heidi, but like everybody in Dörfli knew all about her. He had known her parents, and felt sure at once that this was the child of whom he had heard so much. He began to wonder why she had come back, and as they drove along he entered into conversation with her. "You are the child who lived with your grandfather, Alm-Uncle, are you not?"
Alfred Gockel paintings
Alexei Alexeivich Harlamoff paintings
Aubrey Beardsley paintings
"I shall be sure not to lose it," said Heidi confidently, and she at once put the roll and the letter at the bottom of her basket. The trunk meanwhile had been hoisted into the cart, and now Sebastian lifted Heidi and her basket on to the high seat and shook hands with her; he then made signs to her to keep her eye on the basket, for the driver was standing near and Sebastian thought it better to be careful, especially as he knew that he ought himself to have seen the child safely to her journey's end. The driver now swung himself up beside Heidi, and the cart rolled away in the direction of the mountains, while Sebastian, glad of having no tiring and dangerous journey on foot before him, sat down in the station and awaited the return train.
The driver of the car was the miller at Dörfli and was taking home his sacks of flour. He had never seen Heidi, but like everybody in Dörfli knew all about her. He had known her parents, and felt sure at once that this was the child of whom he had heard so much. He began to wonder why she had come back, and as they drove along he entered into conversation with her. "You are the child who lived with your grandfather, Alm-Uncle, are you not?"
Louis Aston Knight paintings
Louis Aston Knight paintings
Leon Bazile Perrault paintings
Leon-Augustin L'hermitte paintings
Lady Laura Teresa Alma-Tadema paintings
HERR SESEMANN, a good deal irritated and excited, went quickly upstairs and along the passage to Fräulein Rottenmeier's room, and there gave such an unusually loud knock at the door that the lady awoke from sleep with a cry of alarm. She heard the master of the house calling to her from the other side of the door, "Please make haste and come down to me in the dining-room; we must make ready for a journey at once." Fräulein Rottenmeier looked at her clock: it was just half-past four; she had never got up so early before in her life. What could have happened? What with her curiosity and excitement she took hold of everything the wrong way, and it was a case with her of more haste less speed, for she kept on searching everywhere for garments which she had already put on.
Meanwhile Herr Sesemann had gone on farther and rung the bells in turn which communicated with the several servants' rooms, causing frightened figures to leap out of bed, convinced that the ghost had attacked the master and that he was calling for help. One by one they made their appearance in the dining-room, each with a more terrified face than the
Leon Bazile Perrault paintings
Leon-Augustin L'hermitte paintings
Lady Laura Teresa Alma-Tadema paintings
HERR SESEMANN, a good deal irritated and excited, went quickly upstairs and along the passage to Fräulein Rottenmeier's room, and there gave such an unusually loud knock at the door that the lady awoke from sleep with a cry of alarm. She heard the master of the house calling to her from the other side of the door, "Please make haste and come down to me in the dining-room; we must make ready for a journey at once." Fräulein Rottenmeier looked at her clock: it was just half-past four; she had never got up so early before in her life. What could have happened? What with her curiosity and excitement she took hold of everything the wrong way, and it was a case with her of more haste less speed, for she kept on searching everywhere for garments which she had already put on.
Meanwhile Herr Sesemann had gone on farther and rung the bells in turn which communicated with the several servants' rooms, causing frightened figures to leap out of bed, convinced that the ghost had attacked the master and that he was calling for help. One by one they made their appearance in the dining-room, each with a more terrified face than the
Sunday, May 25, 2008
William Bouguereau paintings
William Bouguereau paintings
Edward hopper paintings
Mary Cassatt paintings
gustav klimt paintings
What is your trouble?" asked the Lion quietly.
"We are all threatened," answered the tiger, "by a fierce enemy which has lately come into this forest. It is a most tremendous monster, like a great spider, with a body as big as an elephant and legs as long as a tree trunk. It has eight of these long legs, and as the monster crawls through the forest he seizes an animal with a leg and drags it to his mouth, where he eats it as a spider does a fly. Not one of us is safe while this fierce creature is alive, and we had called a meeting to decide how to take care of ourselves when you came among us."
The Lion thought for a moment.
"Are there any other lions in this forest?" he asked.
"No; there were some, but the monster has eaten them all. And, besides, they were none of them nearly so large and brave as you."
"If I put an end to your enemy, will you bow down to me and obey me as King of the Forest?" inquired the Lion
Edward hopper paintings
Mary Cassatt paintings
gustav klimt paintings
What is your trouble?" asked the Lion quietly.
"We are all threatened," answered the tiger, "by a fierce enemy which has lately come into this forest. It is a most tremendous monster, like a great spider, with a body as big as an elephant and legs as long as a tree trunk. It has eight of these long legs, and as the monster crawls through the forest he seizes an animal with a leg and drags it to his mouth, where he eats it as a spider does a fly. Not one of us is safe while this fierce creature is alive, and we had called a meeting to decide how to take care of ourselves when you came among us."
The Lion thought for a moment.
"Are there any other lions in this forest?" he asked.
"No; there were some, but the monster has eaten them all. And, besides, they were none of them nearly so large and brave as you."
"If I put an end to your enemy, will you bow down to me and obey me as King of the Forest?" inquired the Lion
John Everett Millais paintings
John Everett Millais paintings
James Jacques Joseph Tissot paintings
Jules Joseph Lefebvre paintings
Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres paintings
But the strangest of all were the people who lived in this queer country. There were milkmaids and shepherdesses, with brightly colored bodices and golden spots all over their gowns; and princesses with most gorgeous frocks of silver and gold and purple; and shepherds dressed in knee breeches with pink and yellow and blue stripes down them, and golden buckles on their shoes; and princes with jeweled crowns upon their heads, wearing ermine robes and satin doublets; and funny clowns in ruffled gowns, with round red spots upon their cheeks and tall, pointed caps. And, strangest of all, these people were all made of china, even to their clothes, and were so small that the tallest of them was no higher than Dorothy's knee.
No one did so much as look at the travelers at first, except one little purple china dog with an extra-large head, which came to the wall and barked at them in a tiny voice, afterwards running away again.
"How shall we get down?" asked Dorothy.
James Jacques Joseph Tissot paintings
Jules Joseph Lefebvre paintings
Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres paintings
But the strangest of all were the people who lived in this queer country. There were milkmaids and shepherdesses, with brightly colored bodices and golden spots all over their gowns; and princesses with most gorgeous frocks of silver and gold and purple; and shepherds dressed in knee breeches with pink and yellow and blue stripes down them, and golden buckles on their shoes; and princes with jeweled crowns upon their heads, wearing ermine robes and satin doublets; and funny clowns in ruffled gowns, with round red spots upon their cheeks and tall, pointed caps. And, strangest of all, these people were all made of china, even to their clothes, and were so small that the tallest of them was no higher than Dorothy's knee.
No one did so much as look at the travelers at first, except one little purple china dog with an extra-large head, which came to the wall and barked at them in a tiny voice, afterwards running away again.
"How shall we get down?" asked Dorothy.
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovsky paintings
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovsky paintings
Il'ya Repin paintings
Igor V.Babailov paintings
Juarez Machado paintings
It is certainly too bad!" said the tender-hearted Woodman.
The Scarecrow was thinking again, and his head bulged out so horribly that Dorothy feared it would burst.
"Let us call in the soldier with the green whiskers," he said, "and ask his advice."
So the soldier was summoned and entered the Throne Room timidly, for while Oz was alive he never was allowed to come farther than the door.
"This little girl," said the Scarecrow to the soldier, "wishes to cross the desert. How can she do so?"
"I cannot tell," answered the soldier, "for nobody has ever crossed the desert, unless it is Oz himself." "Is there no one who can help me?" asked Dorothy earnestly.
"Glinda might," he suggested.
"Who is Glinda?" inquired the Scarecrow.
"The Witch of the South. She is the most powerful of all the Witches, and rules over the Quadlings. Besides, her castle stands on the edge of the desert, so she may know a way to cross it."
Il'ya Repin paintings
Igor V.Babailov paintings
Juarez Machado paintings
It is certainly too bad!" said the tender-hearted Woodman.
The Scarecrow was thinking again, and his head bulged out so horribly that Dorothy feared it would burst.
"Let us call in the soldier with the green whiskers," he said, "and ask his advice."
So the soldier was summoned and entered the Throne Room timidly, for while Oz was alive he never was allowed to come farther than the door.
"This little girl," said the Scarecrow to the soldier, "wishes to cross the desert. How can she do so?"
"I cannot tell," answered the soldier, "for nobody has ever crossed the desert, unless it is Oz himself." "Is there no one who can help me?" asked Dorothy earnestly.
"Glinda might," he suggested.
"Who is Glinda?" inquired the Scarecrow.
"The Witch of the South. She is the most powerful of all the Witches, and rules over the Quadlings. Besides, her castle stands on the edge of the desert, so she may know a way to cross it."
Vittore Carpaccio paintings
Vittore Carpaccio paintings
Warren Kimble paintings
Wassily Kandinsky paintings
William Etty paintings
"I was born in Omaha -- "
"Why, that isn't very far from Kansas!" cried Dorothy.
"No, but it's farther from here," he said, shaking his head at her sadly. "When I grew up I became a ventriloquist, and at that I was very well trained by a great master. I can imitate any kind of a bird or beast." Here he mewed so like a kitten that Toto pricked up his ears and looked everywhere to see where she was. "After a time," continued Oz, "I tired of that, and became a balloonist."
"What is that?" asked Dorothy.
"A man who goes up in a balloon on circus day, so as to draw a crowd of people together and get them to pay to see the circus," he explained.
"Oh," she said, "I know."
"Well, one day I went up in a balloon and the ropes got twisted, so that I couldn't come down again. It went way up above the clouds, so far that a current of air struck it and carried it many, many miles away. For a day and a night I traveled through the air, and on the morning of the second day I awoke and found the balloon floating over a strange and beautiful country
Warren Kimble paintings
Wassily Kandinsky paintings
William Etty paintings
"I was born in Omaha -- "
"Why, that isn't very far from Kansas!" cried Dorothy.
"No, but it's farther from here," he said, shaking his head at her sadly. "When I grew up I became a ventriloquist, and at that I was very well trained by a great master. I can imitate any kind of a bird or beast." Here he mewed so like a kitten that Toto pricked up his ears and looked everywhere to see where she was. "After a time," continued Oz, "I tired of that, and became a balloonist."
"What is that?" asked Dorothy.
"A man who goes up in a balloon on circus day, so as to draw a crowd of people together and get them to pay to see the circus," he explained.
"Oh," she said, "I know."
"Well, one day I went up in a balloon and the ropes got twisted, so that I couldn't come down again. It went way up above the clouds, so far that a current of air struck it and carried it many, many miles away. For a day and a night I traveled through the air, and on the morning of the second day I awoke and found the balloon floating over a strange and beautiful country
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovsky paintings
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovsky paintings
Il'ya Repin paintings
Igor V.Babailov paintings
Juarez Machado paintings
"Oh, no. They must obey the wearer of the Cap. Good-bye!" And she scampered out of sight, with all the mice hurrying after her.
Dorothy looked inside the Golden Cap and saw some words written upon the lining. These, she thought, must be the charm, so she read the directions carefully and put the Cap upon her head.
"Ep-pe, pep-pe, kak-ke!" she said, standing on her left foot.
"What did you say?" asked the Scarecrow, who did not know what she was doing.
"Hil-lo, hol-lo, hel-lo!" Dorothy went on, standing this time on her right foot.
"Hello!" replied the Tin Woodman calmly.
"Ziz-zy, zuz-zy, zik!" said Dorothy, who was now standing on both feet. This ended the saying of the charm, and they heard a great chattering and flapping of wings,
Il'ya Repin paintings
Igor V.Babailov paintings
Juarez Machado paintings
"Oh, no. They must obey the wearer of the Cap. Good-bye!" And she scampered out of sight, with all the mice hurrying after her.
Dorothy looked inside the Golden Cap and saw some words written upon the lining. These, she thought, must be the charm, so she read the directions carefully and put the Cap upon her head.
"Ep-pe, pep-pe, kak-ke!" she said, standing on her left foot.
"What did you say?" asked the Scarecrow, who did not know what she was doing.
"Hil-lo, hol-lo, hel-lo!" Dorothy went on, standing this time on her right foot.
"Hello!" replied the Tin Woodman calmly.
"Ziz-zy, zuz-zy, zik!" said Dorothy, who was now standing on both feet. This ended the saying of the charm, and they heard a great chattering and flapping of wings,
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Aubrey Beardsley paintings
Aubrey Beardsley paintings
Andrea del Sarto paintings
Alexandre Cabanel paintings
Anders Zorn paintings
I don't know, I'm sure. To think of your striking a stuffed man, like the poor Scarecrow!"
"Is he stuffed?" asked the Lion in surprise, as he watched her pick up the Scarecrow and set him upon his feet, while she patted him into shape again.
"Of course he's stuffed," replied Dorothy, who was still angry.
"That's why he went over so easily," remarked the Lion. "It astonished me to see him whirl around so. Is the other one stuffed also?"
"No," said Dorothy, "he's made of tin." And she helped the Woodman up again.
"That's why he nearly blunted my claws," said the Lion. "When they scratched against the tin it made a cold shiver run down my back. What is that little animal you are so tender of?"
"He is my dog, Toto," answered Dorothy.
"Is he made of tin, or stuffed?" asked the Lion.
"Neither. He's a -- a -- a meat dog," said the girl.
Andrea del Sarto paintings
Alexandre Cabanel paintings
Anders Zorn paintings
I don't know, I'm sure. To think of your striking a stuffed man, like the poor Scarecrow!"
"Is he stuffed?" asked the Lion in surprise, as he watched her pick up the Scarecrow and set him upon his feet, while she patted him into shape again.
"Of course he's stuffed," replied Dorothy, who was still angry.
"That's why he went over so easily," remarked the Lion. "It astonished me to see him whirl around so. Is the other one stuffed also?"
"No," said Dorothy, "he's made of tin." And she helped the Woodman up again.
"That's why he nearly blunted my claws," said the Lion. "When they scratched against the tin it made a cold shiver run down my back. What is that little animal you are so tender of?"
"He is my dog, Toto," answered Dorothy.
"Is he made of tin, or stuffed?" asked the Lion.
"Neither. He's a -- a -- a meat dog," said the girl.
Friday, May 23, 2008
John William Godward paintings
John William Godward paintings
John William Waterhouse paintings
John Singer Sargent paintings
Jean-Leon Gerome paintings
As Tom checked off his details, and the other boy nodded his head in recognition of them, the great audience and the officials stared in puzzled wonderment; the tale sounded like true history, yet how could this impossible conjunction between a prince and a beggar boy have come about? Never was a company of people so perplexed, so interested, and so stupefied, before.
"For a jest, my prince, we did exchange garments. Then we stood before a mirror; and so alike were we that both said it seemed as if there had been no change made-yes, you remember that. Then you noticed that the soldier had hurt my hand-look! here it is, I cannot yet even write with it, the fingers are so stiff. At this your Highness sprang up, vowing vengeance upon that soldier, and ran toward the door-you passed a table-that thing you call the Seal lay on that table-you snatched it up and looked eagerly about, as if for a place to hide it-your eye caught sight of-"
"There, "tis sufficient!-and the dear God be thanked!" exclaimed the ragged claimant, in a mighty excitement. "Go, my good St. John-in an arm-piece of the Milanese armor that hangs on the wall, thou"lt find the Seal!"
John William Waterhouse paintings
John Singer Sargent paintings
Jean-Leon Gerome paintings
As Tom checked off his details, and the other boy nodded his head in recognition of them, the great audience and the officials stared in puzzled wonderment; the tale sounded like true history, yet how could this impossible conjunction between a prince and a beggar boy have come about? Never was a company of people so perplexed, so interested, and so stupefied, before.
"For a jest, my prince, we did exchange garments. Then we stood before a mirror; and so alike were we that both said it seemed as if there had been no change made-yes, you remember that. Then you noticed that the soldier had hurt my hand-look! here it is, I cannot yet even write with it, the fingers are so stiff. At this your Highness sprang up, vowing vengeance upon that soldier, and ran toward the door-you passed a table-that thing you call the Seal lay on that table-you snatched it up and looked eagerly about, as if for a place to hide it-your eye caught sight of-"
"There, "tis sufficient!-and the dear God be thanked!" exclaimed the ragged claimant, in a mighty excitement. "Go, my good St. John-in an arm-piece of the Milanese armor that hangs on the wall, thou"lt find the Seal!"
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Decorative painting
Decorative painting
cheering began. But poor Hugo stood no chance whatever. His frantic and lubberly "prentice-work found but a poor market for itself when pitted against an arm which had been trained by the first masters of Europe in single-stick, quarter-staff, and every art and trick of swordsmanship. The little king stood, alert but at graceful ease, and caught and turned aside the thick rain of blows with a facility and precision which set the motley onlookers wild with admiration; and every now and then, when his practised eye detected an opening, and a lightning-swift rap upon Hugo's head followed as a result, the storm of cheers and laughter that swept the place was something wonderful to hear. At the end of fifteen minutes, Hugo, all battered, bruised, and the target for a pitiless bombardment of ridicule, slunk from the field; and the unscathed hero of the fight was seized and borne aloft upon the shoulders of the joyous rabble to the place of honor beside the Ruffler, where with vast ceremony he was crowned King of the Game-Cocks; his meaner title being at the same time solemnly canceled and annulled, and a decree of banishment from the gang pronounced against any who should henceforth utter it.
cheering began. But poor Hugo stood no chance whatever. His frantic and lubberly "prentice-work found but a poor market for itself when pitted against an arm which had been trained by the first masters of Europe in single-stick, quarter-staff, and every art and trick of swordsmanship. The little king stood, alert but at graceful ease, and caught and turned aside the thick rain of blows with a facility and precision which set the motley onlookers wild with admiration; and every now and then, when his practised eye detected an opening, and a lightning-swift rap upon Hugo's head followed as a result, the storm of cheers and laughter that swept the place was something wonderful to hear. At the end of fifteen minutes, Hugo, all battered, bruised, and the target for a pitiless bombardment of ridicule, slunk from the field; and the unscathed hero of the fight was seized and borne aloft upon the shoulders of the joyous rabble to the place of honor beside the Ruffler, where with vast ceremony he was crowned King of the Game-Cocks; his meaner title being at the same time solemnly canceled and annulled, and a decree of banishment from the gang pronounced against any who should henceforth utter it.
Peter Paul Rubens paintings
Peter Paul Rubens paintings
Rudolf Ernst paintings
Robert Campin paintings
Rembrandt paintings "Five and twenty sturdy budges, bulks, files, clapperdogeons and maunders, counting the dells and doxies and other morts.16 Most are here, the rest are wandering eastward, along the winter lay. We follow at dawn."
"I do not see the Wen among the honest folk about me. Where may he be?"
"Poor lad, his diet is brimstone now, and over hot for a delicate taste. He was killed in a brawl, somewhere about midsummer."
"I sorrow to hear that; the Wen was a capable man, and brave."
"That was he, truly. Black Bess, his dell, is of us yet, but absent on the eastward tramp; a fine lass, of nice ways and orderly conduct, none ever seeing her drunk above four days in the seven."
"She was ever strict-I remember it well-a goodly wench and worthy all commendation. Her mother was more free and less particular; a troublesome and ugly-tempered beldame, but furnished with a wit above the common."
"We lost her through it. Her gift of palmistry and other sorts of fortune-telling begot for her at last a witch's name and fame. The law roasted her to death at a slow fire. It did touch
Rudolf Ernst paintings
Robert Campin paintings
Rembrandt paintings "Five and twenty sturdy budges, bulks, files, clapperdogeons and maunders, counting the dells and doxies and other morts.16 Most are here, the rest are wandering eastward, along the winter lay. We follow at dawn."
"I do not see the Wen among the honest folk about me. Where may he be?"
"Poor lad, his diet is brimstone now, and over hot for a delicate taste. He was killed in a brawl, somewhere about midsummer."
"I sorrow to hear that; the Wen was a capable man, and brave."
"That was he, truly. Black Bess, his dell, is of us yet, but absent on the eastward tramp; a fine lass, of nice ways and orderly conduct, none ever seeing her drunk above four days in the seven."
"She was ever strict-I remember it well-a goodly wench and worthy all commendation. Her mother was more free and less particular; a troublesome and ugly-tempered beldame, but furnished with a wit above the common."
"We lost her through it. Her gift of palmistry and other sorts of fortune-telling begot for her at last a witch's name and fame. The law roasted her to death at a slow fire. It did touch
Pierre Auguste Renoir paintings
Pierre Auguste Renoir paintings
Peder Severin Kroyer paintings
Pieter de Hooch paintings
Pietro Perugino paintings
Bien Darkmans then, Bouse Mort and Ken,The bien Coves bings awast,On Chates to trine by Rome Coves dineFor his long lib at last.Bing"d out bien Morts and toure, and toure,Bing out of the Rome vile bine,And toure the Cove that cloy"d your duds,Upon upon the Chates to trine."5
Conversation followed; not in the thieves" dialect of the song, for that was only used in talk when unfriendly ears might be listening. In the course of it it appeared that "John Hobbs" was not altogether a new recruit, but had trained in the gang at some former time. His later history was called for, and when he said he had "accidentally" killed a man, considerable satisfaction was expressed; when he added that the man was a priest, he was roundly applauded, and had to take a drink with everybody. Old acquaintances welcomed him joyously, and new ones were proud to shake him by the hand. He was asked why he had "tarried away so many months." He answered:
"London is better than the country, and safer these late years, the laws be so bitter and so diligently enforced. An I had not had that accident, I had stayed there. I had resolved to stay, and nevermore venture countrywards-but the accident had ended that."
He inquired how many persons the gang numbered now. The "Ruffler," or chief, answered:
Peder Severin Kroyer paintings
Pieter de Hooch paintings
Pietro Perugino paintings
Bien Darkmans then, Bouse Mort and Ken,The bien Coves bings awast,On Chates to trine by Rome Coves dineFor his long lib at last.Bing"d out bien Morts and toure, and toure,Bing out of the Rome vile bine,And toure the Cove that cloy"d your duds,Upon upon the Chates to trine."5
Conversation followed; not in the thieves" dialect of the song, for that was only used in talk when unfriendly ears might be listening. In the course of it it appeared that "John Hobbs" was not altogether a new recruit, but had trained in the gang at some former time. His later history was called for, and when he said he had "accidentally" killed a man, considerable satisfaction was expressed; when he added that the man was a priest, he was roundly applauded, and had to take a drink with everybody. Old acquaintances welcomed him joyously, and new ones were proud to shake him by the hand. He was asked why he had "tarried away so many months." He answered:
"London is better than the country, and safer these late years, the laws be so bitter and so diligently enforced. An I had not had that accident, I had stayed there. I had resolved to stay, and nevermore venture countrywards-but the accident had ended that."
He inquired how many persons the gang numbered now. The "Ruffler," or chief, answered:
Philip Craig paintings
Philip Craig paintings
Paul McCormack paintings
Patrick Devonas paintings
Peder Mork Monsted paintings
The night was come, the gang had just finished feasting, an orgy was beginning, the can of liquor was passing from mouth to mouth. A general cry broke forth:
"A song! a song from the Bat and Dick Dot-and-go-One!"
One of the blind men got up, and made ready by casting aside the patches that sheltered his excellent eyes, and the pathetic placard which recited the cause of his calamity. Dot-and-go-One disencumbered himself of his timber leg and took his place, upon sound and healthy limbs, beside his fellow-rascal; then they roared out a rollicking ditty, and were reinforced by the whole crew, at the end of each stanza, in a rousing chorus. By the time the last stanza was reached, the half-drunken enthusiasm had risen to such a pitch that everybody joined in and sang it clear through from the beginning, producing a volume of villainous sound that made the rafters quake. These were the inspiring words:
Paul McCormack paintings
Patrick Devonas paintings
Peder Mork Monsted paintings
The night was come, the gang had just finished feasting, an orgy was beginning, the can of liquor was passing from mouth to mouth. A general cry broke forth:
"A song! a song from the Bat and Dick Dot-and-go-One!"
One of the blind men got up, and made ready by casting aside the patches that sheltered his excellent eyes, and the pathetic placard which recited the cause of his calamity. Dot-and-go-One disencumbered himself of his timber leg and took his place, upon sound and healthy limbs, beside his fellow-rascal; then they roared out a rollicking ditty, and were reinforced by the whole crew, at the end of each stanza, in a rousing chorus. By the time the last stanza was reached, the half-drunken enthusiasm had risen to such a pitch that everybody joined in and sang it clear through from the beginning, producing a volume of villainous sound that made the rafters quake. These were the inspiring words:
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
klimt gustav paintings
klimt gustav paintings
oil painting reproduction
mark rothko paintings
Old Master Oil Paintings
"Dost thou know thy father, child? Break not mine old heart; say thou know'st me. Thou dost know me, dost thou not?"
"Yea; thou art my dread lord the king, whom God preserve."
"True, true-that is well-be comforted, tremble not so; there is none here who would hurt thee; there is none here but loves thee. Thou art better now; thy ill dream passeth-is"t not so? And thou knowest thyself now also-is"t not so? Thou wilt not miscall thyself again, as they say thou didst a little while agone?"
"I pray thee of thy grace believe me, I did but speak the truth, most dread lord; for I am the meanest among thy subjects, being a pauper born, and "tis by a sore mischance and accident I am here, albeit I was therein nothing blameful. I am but young to die, and thou canst save me with one little word. Oh, speak it, sir!"
"Die? Talk not so, sweet prince-peace, peace, to thy troubled heart-thou shalt not die!"
Tom dropped upon his knees with a glad cry:
oil painting reproduction
mark rothko paintings
Old Master Oil Paintings
"Dost thou know thy father, child? Break not mine old heart; say thou know'st me. Thou dost know me, dost thou not?"
"Yea; thou art my dread lord the king, whom God preserve."
"True, true-that is well-be comforted, tremble not so; there is none here who would hurt thee; there is none here but loves thee. Thou art better now; thy ill dream passeth-is"t not so? And thou knowest thyself now also-is"t not so? Thou wilt not miscall thyself again, as they say thou didst a little while agone?"
"I pray thee of thy grace believe me, I did but speak the truth, most dread lord; for I am the meanest among thy subjects, being a pauper born, and "tis by a sore mischance and accident I am here, albeit I was therein nothing blameful. I am but young to die, and thou canst save me with one little word. Oh, speak it, sir!"
"Die? Talk not so, sweet prince-peace, peace, to thy troubled heart-thou shalt not die!"
Tom dropped upon his knees with a glad cry:
Jules Joseph Lefebvre paintings
Jules Joseph Lefebvre paintings
Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres paintings
John William Godward paintings
John William Waterhouse paintings
Mrs. Bunting looked at him thoughtfully. It occurred to Mr. Hopkins that she was very wan and tired; she used to look better in the old days, when she was still in service, before Bunting married her.
"Yes," she said; "that's just what my stepdaughter said just now. 'Oh, take me to the Chamber of Horrors' - that's exactly what she did say when we got upstairs."
******
A group of people, all talking and laughing together; were advancing, from within the wooden barrier, toward the turnstile.
Mrs. Bunting stared at them nervously. She wondered which of them was the gentleman with whom Mr. Hopkins had hoped she would never be brought into personal contact; she thought she could pick him out among the others. He was a tall, powerful, handsome gentleman, with a military appearance.
Just now he was smiling down into the face of a young lady. "Monsieur Barberoux is quite
Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres paintings
John William Godward paintings
John William Waterhouse paintings
Mrs. Bunting looked at him thoughtfully. It occurred to Mr. Hopkins that she was very wan and tired; she used to look better in the old days, when she was still in service, before Bunting married her.
"Yes," she said; "that's just what my stepdaughter said just now. 'Oh, take me to the Chamber of Horrors' - that's exactly what she did say when we got upstairs."
******
A group of people, all talking and laughing together; were advancing, from within the wooden barrier, toward the turnstile.
Mrs. Bunting stared at them nervously. She wondered which of them was the gentleman with whom Mr. Hopkins had hoped she would never be brought into personal contact; she thought she could pick him out among the others. He was a tall, powerful, handsome gentleman, with a military appearance.
Just now he was smiling down into the face of a young lady. "Monsieur Barberoux is quite
Johannes Vermeer paintings
Johannes Vermeer paintings
Jacques-Louis David paintings
John Everett Millais paintings
James Jacques Joseph Tissot paintings
Two, as all the world knows, is company, three is none. Mrs. Bunting put down three sixpences.
"Wait a minute," said Hopkins; "you can't go into the Chamber of Horrors just yet. But you won't have to wait more than four or five minutes, Mrs. Bunting. It's this way, you see; our boss is in there, showing a party round." He lowered his voice. "It's Sir John Burney - I suppose you know who Sir John Burney is?"
"No," she answered indifferently, "I don't know that I ever heard of him."
She felt slightly - oh, very sightly - uneasy about Daisy. She would have liked her stepdaughter to keep well within sight and sound, but Mr. Sleuth was now taking the girl down to the other end of the room.
"Well, I hope you never will know him - not in any personal sense, Mrs. Bunting." The man chuckled. "He's the Commissioner of Police - the new one - that's what Sir John Burney is. One of the gentlemen he's showing round our place is the Paris Police boss - whose job is on all fours, so to speak, with Sir John's. The Frenchy has brought his daughter with him, and there are several other ladies. Ladies always likes horrors, Mrs. Bunting; that's our experience here. 'Oh, take me to the Chamber of Horrors ' - that's what they say the minute they gets into this here building!"
Jacques-Louis David paintings
John Everett Millais paintings
James Jacques Joseph Tissot paintings
Two, as all the world knows, is company, three is none. Mrs. Bunting put down three sixpences.
"Wait a minute," said Hopkins; "you can't go into the Chamber of Horrors just yet. But you won't have to wait more than four or five minutes, Mrs. Bunting. It's this way, you see; our boss is in there, showing a party round." He lowered his voice. "It's Sir John Burney - I suppose you know who Sir John Burney is?"
"No," she answered indifferently, "I don't know that I ever heard of him."
She felt slightly - oh, very sightly - uneasy about Daisy. She would have liked her stepdaughter to keep well within sight and sound, but Mr. Sleuth was now taking the girl down to the other end of the room.
"Well, I hope you never will know him - not in any personal sense, Mrs. Bunting." The man chuckled. "He's the Commissioner of Police - the new one - that's what Sir John Burney is. One of the gentlemen he's showing round our place is the Paris Police boss - whose job is on all fours, so to speak, with Sir John's. The Frenchy has brought his daughter with him, and there are several other ladies. Ladies always likes horrors, Mrs. Bunting; that's our experience here. 'Oh, take me to the Chamber of Horrors ' - that's what they say the minute they gets into this here building!"
Julius LeBlanc Stewart paintings
Julius LeBlanc Stewart paintings
Jeffrey T.Larson paintings
Jean-Paul Laurens paintings
Jules Breton paintings
Mr. Sleuth looked down at her, and a smile passed for a moment over his worn, gaunt face.
"Yes," he said, "let us go into the Chamber of Horrors; that's a good idea, Miss Bunting. I've always wanted to see the Chamber of Horrors."
They turned into the great room in which the Napoleonic relics were then kept, and which led into the curious, vault-like chamber where waxen effigies of dead criminals stand grouped in wooden docks.
Mrs. Bunting was at once disturbed and relieved to see her husband's old acquaintance, Mr. Hopkins, in charge of the turnstile admitting the public to the Chamber of Horrors.
"Well, you are a stranger," the man observed genially. "I do believe that this is the very first time I've seen you in here, Mrs. Bunting, since you was married!"
"Yes," she said, "that is so. And this is my husband's daughter, Daisy; I expect you've heard of her, Mr. Hopkins. And this" - she hesitated a moment - "is our lodger, Mr. Sleuth."
But Mr. Sleuth frowned and shuffled away. Daisy, leaving her stepmother's side, joined him.
Jeffrey T.Larson paintings
Jean-Paul Laurens paintings
Jules Breton paintings
Mr. Sleuth looked down at her, and a smile passed for a moment over his worn, gaunt face.
"Yes," he said, "let us go into the Chamber of Horrors; that's a good idea, Miss Bunting. I've always wanted to see the Chamber of Horrors."
They turned into the great room in which the Napoleonic relics were then kept, and which led into the curious, vault-like chamber where waxen effigies of dead criminals stand grouped in wooden docks.
Mrs. Bunting was at once disturbed and relieved to see her husband's old acquaintance, Mr. Hopkins, in charge of the turnstile admitting the public to the Chamber of Horrors.
"Well, you are a stranger," the man observed genially. "I do believe that this is the very first time I've seen you in here, Mrs. Bunting, since you was married!"
"Yes," she said, "that is so. And this is my husband's daughter, Daisy; I expect you've heard of her, Mr. Hopkins. And this" - she hesitated a moment - "is our lodger, Mr. Sleuth."
But Mr. Sleuth frowned and shuffled away. Daisy, leaving her stepmother's side, joined him.
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida paintings
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida paintings
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida paintings
Joseph Mallord William Turner paintings
Julien Dupre paintings
adame Tussaud's had hitherto held pleasant memories for Mrs. Bunting. In the days when she and Bunting were courting they often spent there part of their afternoon-out.
The butler had an acquaintance, a man named Hopkins, who was one of the waxworks staff, and this man had sometimes given him passes for "self and lady." But this was the first time Mrs. Bunting had been inside the place since she had come to live almost next door, as it were, to the big building.
They walked in silence to the familiar entrance, and then, after the ill-assorted trio had gone up the great staircase and into the first gallery, Mr. Sleuth suddenly stopped short. The presence of those curious, still, waxen figures which suggest so strangely death in life, seemed to surprise and affright him.
Daisy took quick advantage of the lodger's hesitation and unease.
"Oh, Ellen," she cried, "do let us begin by going into the Chamber of Horrors! I've never been in there. Old Aunt made father promise he wouldn't take me the only time I've ever been here. But now that I'm eighteen I can do just as I like; besides, Old Aunt will never know."
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida paintings
Joseph Mallord William Turner paintings
Julien Dupre paintings
adame Tussaud's had hitherto held pleasant memories for Mrs. Bunting. In the days when she and Bunting were courting they often spent there part of their afternoon-out.
The butler had an acquaintance, a man named Hopkins, who was one of the waxworks staff, and this man had sometimes given him passes for "self and lady." But this was the first time Mrs. Bunting had been inside the place since she had come to live almost next door, as it were, to the big building.
They walked in silence to the familiar entrance, and then, after the ill-assorted trio had gone up the great staircase and into the first gallery, Mr. Sleuth suddenly stopped short. The presence of those curious, still, waxen figures which suggest so strangely death in life, seemed to surprise and affright him.
Daisy took quick advantage of the lodger's hesitation and unease.
"Oh, Ellen," she cried, "do let us begin by going into the Chamber of Horrors! I've never been in there. Old Aunt made father promise he wouldn't take me the only time I've ever been here. But now that I'm eighteen I can do just as I like; besides, Old Aunt will never know."
China oil paintings
China oil paintings
the fire was almost out - woke to hear a quarter to twelve chime out - woke at last to the sound she had been listening for before she fell asleep - the sound of Mr. Sleuth, wearing his rubber-soled shoes, creeping downstairs, along the passage, and so out, very, very quietly by the front door.
But once she was in bed Mrs. Bunting turned restless. She tossed this way and that, full of discomfort and unease. Perhaps it was the unaccustomed firelight dancing on the walls, making queer shadows all round her, which kept her so wide awake.
She lay thinking and listening - listening and thinking. It even occurred to her to do the one thing that might have quieted her excited brain - to get a book, one of those detective stories of which Bunting had a slender store in the next room, and then, lighting the gas, to sit up and read.
No, Mrs. Bunting had always been told it was very wrong to read in bed, and she was not in a mood just now to begin doing anything that she had been told was wrong. . .
the fire was almost out - woke to hear a quarter to twelve chime out - woke at last to the sound she had been listening for before she fell asleep - the sound of Mr. Sleuth, wearing his rubber-soled shoes, creeping downstairs, along the passage, and so out, very, very quietly by the front door.
But once she was in bed Mrs. Bunting turned restless. She tossed this way and that, full of discomfort and unease. Perhaps it was the unaccustomed firelight dancing on the walls, making queer shadows all round her, which kept her so wide awake.
She lay thinking and listening - listening and thinking. It even occurred to her to do the one thing that might have quieted her excited brain - to get a book, one of those detective stories of which Bunting had a slender store in the next room, and then, lighting the gas, to sit up and read.
No, Mrs. Bunting had always been told it was very wrong to read in bed, and she was not in a mood just now to begin doing anything that she had been told was wrong. . .
Monday, May 19, 2008
Gustav Klimt Painting
Gustav Klimt Painting
Mrs. Bunting, may I ask you to come here?"
And after a moment of hesitation his landlady obeyed him.
"Will you please accept this little gift for the use you kindly allowed me to make of your kitchen last night?" he said quietly. "I tried to make as little mess as I could, Mrs. Bunting, but - well, the truth is I was carrying out a very elaborate experiment "
Mrs. Bunting held out her hand, she hesitated, and then she took the coin. The fingers which for a moment brushed lightly against her palm were icy cold - cold and clammy. Mr. Sleuth was evidently not well.
The day went by, as other days had gone by in that quiet household, but, of course, there was far greater animation outside the little house than was usually the case.
Mrs. Bunting, may I ask you to come here?"
And after a moment of hesitation his landlady obeyed him.
"Will you please accept this little gift for the use you kindly allowed me to make of your kitchen last night?" he said quietly. "I tried to make as little mess as I could, Mrs. Bunting, but - well, the truth is I was carrying out a very elaborate experiment "
Mrs. Bunting held out her hand, she hesitated, and then she took the coin. The fingers which for a moment brushed lightly against her palm were icy cold - cold and clammy. Mr. Sleuth was evidently not well.
The day went by, as other days had gone by in that quiet household, but, of course, there was far greater animation outside the little house than was usually the case.
William Bouguereau paintings
William Bouguereau paintings
William Bouguereau
play to which a young man bad taken her when she was a girl, unnumbered years ago, and which had thrilled and fascinated her. "Out, out, damned spot!" that was what the tall, fierce, beautiful lady who had played the part of a queen had said, twisting her hands together just as the lodger was doing now.
"It's a fine day," said Mr. Sleuth, sitting down and unfolding his napkin. "The fog has cleared. I do not know if you will agree with me, Mrs. Bunting, but I always feel brighter when the sun is shining, as it is now, at any rate, trying to shine." He looked at her inquiringly, but Mrs. Bunting could not speak. She only nodded. However, that did not affect Mr. Sleuth adversely.
He had acquired a great liking and respect for this well-balanced, taciturn woman. She was the first woman for whom he had experienced any such feeling for many years past.
He looked down at the still covered dish, and shook his head. "I don't feel as if I could eat very much to-day," he said plaintively. And then he suddenly took a half-sovereign out of his waistcoat pocket.
Already Mrs. Bunting had noticed that it was not the same waistcoat Mr. Sleuth had been wearing the day before.
William Bouguereau
play to which a young man bad taken her when she was a girl, unnumbered years ago, and which had thrilled and fascinated her. "Out, out, damned spot!" that was what the tall, fierce, beautiful lady who had played the part of a queen had said, twisting her hands together just as the lodger was doing now.
"It's a fine day," said Mr. Sleuth, sitting down and unfolding his napkin. "The fog has cleared. I do not know if you will agree with me, Mrs. Bunting, but I always feel brighter when the sun is shining, as it is now, at any rate, trying to shine." He looked at her inquiringly, but Mrs. Bunting could not speak. She only nodded. However, that did not affect Mr. Sleuth adversely.
He had acquired a great liking and respect for this well-balanced, taciturn woman. She was the first woman for whom he had experienced any such feeling for many years past.
He looked down at the still covered dish, and shook his head. "I don't feel as if I could eat very much to-day," he said plaintively. And then he suddenly took a half-sovereign out of his waistcoat pocket.
Already Mrs. Bunting had noticed that it was not the same waistcoat Mr. Sleuth had been wearing the day before.
The Birth of Venus
The Birth of Venus
William Bouguereau Birth of Venus Painting
There seem a great many people out today," he observed, without looking round.
"Yes, sir, there do."
Mrs. Bunting began busying herself with laying the cloth and putting out the breakfast-lunch, and as she did so she was seized with a mortal, instinctive terror of the man sitting there.
At last Mr. Sleuth got up and turned round. She forced herself to look at him. How tired, how worn, he looked, and - how strange!
Walking towards the table on which lay his meal, he rubbed his hands together with a nervous gesture - it was a gesture he only made when something had pleased, nay, satisfied him. Mrs. Bunting, looking at him, remembered that he had rubbed his hands together thus when he had first seen the room upstairs, and realised that it contained a large gas-stove and a convenient sink.
What Mr. Sleuth was doing now also reminded her in an odd way of a play she had once seen
William Bouguereau Birth of Venus Painting
There seem a great many people out today," he observed, without looking round.
"Yes, sir, there do."
Mrs. Bunting began busying herself with laying the cloth and putting out the breakfast-lunch, and as she did so she was seized with a mortal, instinctive terror of the man sitting there.
At last Mr. Sleuth got up and turned round. She forced herself to look at him. How tired, how worn, he looked, and - how strange!
Walking towards the table on which lay his meal, he rubbed his hands together with a nervous gesture - it was a gesture he only made when something had pleased, nay, satisfied him. Mrs. Bunting, looking at him, remembered that he had rubbed his hands together thus when he had first seen the room upstairs, and realised that it contained a large gas-stove and a convenient sink.
What Mr. Sleuth was doing now also reminded her in an odd way of a play she had once seen
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
But his aunt had been very much annoyed - in fact, she had made him turn the pictures all back again; and as long as he stayed there he just had to put up with what he called "those half-human monsters." Mrs. Bunting, sitting there, thinking the matter of Mr. Sleuth's odd behaviour over, was glad to recall that funny incident of her long-gone youth. It seemed to prove that her new lodger was not so strange as he appeared to be. Still, when Bunting came in, she did not tell him the queer thing which had happened. She told herself that she would be quite able to manage the taking down of the pictures in the drawing-room herself.
But before getting ready their own supper, Mr. Sleuth's landlady went upstairs to dear away, and when on the staircase she heard the sound of - was it talking, in the drawing-room? Startled, she waited a moment on the landing outside the drawing-room door, then she realised that it was only the lodger reading aloud to himself. There was something very awful in the words which rose and fell on her listening ears:
But his aunt had been very much annoyed - in fact, she had made him turn the pictures all back again; and as long as he stayed there he just had to put up with what he called "those half-human monsters." Mrs. Bunting, sitting there, thinking the matter of Mr. Sleuth's odd behaviour over, was glad to recall that funny incident of her long-gone youth. It seemed to prove that her new lodger was not so strange as he appeared to be. Still, when Bunting came in, she did not tell him the queer thing which had happened. She told herself that she would be quite able to manage the taking down of the pictures in the drawing-room herself.
But before getting ready their own supper, Mr. Sleuth's landlady went upstairs to dear away, and when on the staircase she heard the sound of - was it talking, in the drawing-room? Startled, she waited a moment on the landing outside the drawing-room door, then she realised that it was only the lodger reading aloud to himself. There was something very awful in the words which rose and fell on her listening ears:
William Bouguereau Birth of Venus Painting
William Bouguereau Birth of Venus Painting
The Birth of Venus
It was quite early; she had come down - for in those days maids weren't thought so much of as they are now, and she slept with the upper housemaid, and it was the upper housemaid's duty to be down very early - and, there, in the dining-room, she had found Mr. Algernon engaged in turning each engraving to the wall! Now, his aunt thought all the world of those pictures, and Ellen had felt quite concerned, for it doesn't do for a young gentleman to put himself wrong with a kind aunt.
"Oh, sir," she had exclaimed in dismay, "whatever are you doing?" And even now she could almost hear his merry voice, as he had answered, "I am doing my duty, fair Helen" - he had always called her "fair Helen" when no one was listening. "How can I draw ordinary animals when I see these half-human monsters staring at me all the time I am having my breakfast, my lunch, and my dinner?" That was what Mr. Algernon had said in his own saucy way, and that was what he repeated in a more serious, respectful manner to his aunt, when that dear old lady had come downstairs. In fact he had declared, quite soberly, that the beautiful animals painted by Mr. Landseer put his eye out!
The Birth of Venus
It was quite early; she had come down - for in those days maids weren't thought so much of as they are now, and she slept with the upper housemaid, and it was the upper housemaid's duty to be down very early - and, there, in the dining-room, she had found Mr. Algernon engaged in turning each engraving to the wall! Now, his aunt thought all the world of those pictures, and Ellen had felt quite concerned, for it doesn't do for a young gentleman to put himself wrong with a kind aunt.
"Oh, sir," she had exclaimed in dismay, "whatever are you doing?" And even now she could almost hear his merry voice, as he had answered, "I am doing my duty, fair Helen" - he had always called her "fair Helen" when no one was listening. "How can I draw ordinary animals when I see these half-human monsters staring at me all the time I am having my breakfast, my lunch, and my dinner?" That was what Mr. Algernon had said in his own saucy way, and that was what he repeated in a more serious, respectful manner to his aunt, when that dear old lady had come downstairs. In fact he had declared, quite soberly, that the beautiful animals painted by Mr. Landseer put his eye out!
Gustav Klimt Painting
Gustav Klimt Painting
The landlady was now laying a small tablecloth over half of the table. She made no answer to her lodger's remark, for the good reason that she did not know what to say.
Her silence seemed to distress Mr. Sleuth. After what seemed a long pause, he spoke again.
"I prefer bare walls, Mrs. Bunting," he spoke with some agitation. "As a matter of fact, I have been used to seeing bare walls about me for a long time." And then, at last his landlady answered him, in a composed, soothing voice, which somehow did him good to hear. "I quite understand, sir. And when Bunting comes in he shall take the pictures all down. We have plenty of space in our own rooms for them."
"Thank you - thank you very much."
Mr. Sleuth appeared greatly relieved.
"And I have brought you up my Bible, sir. I understood you wanted the loan of it?"
Mr. Sleuth stared at her as if dazed for a moment; and then, rousing himself, he said, "Yes, yes, I do. There is no reading like the Book. There is something there which suits every state of mind, aye, and of body too - "
The landlady was now laying a small tablecloth over half of the table. She made no answer to her lodger's remark, for the good reason that she did not know what to say.
Her silence seemed to distress Mr. Sleuth. After what seemed a long pause, he spoke again.
"I prefer bare walls, Mrs. Bunting," he spoke with some agitation. "As a matter of fact, I have been used to seeing bare walls about me for a long time." And then, at last his landlady answered him, in a composed, soothing voice, which somehow did him good to hear. "I quite understand, sir. And when Bunting comes in he shall take the pictures all down. We have plenty of space in our own rooms for them."
"Thank you - thank you very much."
Mr. Sleuth appeared greatly relieved.
"And I have brought you up my Bible, sir. I understood you wanted the loan of it?"
Mr. Sleuth stared at her as if dazed for a moment; and then, rousing himself, he said, "Yes, yes, I do. There is no reading like the Book. There is something there which suits every state of mind, aye, and of body too - "
Gustav Klimt The Kiss
Gustav Klimt The Kiss
But a great surprise awaited her; in fact, when Mr. Sleuth's landlady opened the door of the drawing-room she very nearly dropped the tray. She actually did drop the Bible, and it fell with a heavy thud to the ground.
The new lodger had turned all those nice framed engravings of the early Victorian beauties, of which Mrs. Bunting had been so proud, with their faces to the wall!
For a moment she was really too surprised to speak. Putting the tray down on the table, she stooped and picked up the Book. It troubled her that the should have fallen to the ground; but really she hadn't been able to help it - it was mercy that the tray hadn't fallen, too.
Mr. Sleuth got up. "I - I have taken the liberty to arrange the room as I should wish it to be," he said awkwardly. "You see, Mrs. - er - Bunting, I felt as I sat here that these women's eyes followed me about. It was a most unpleasant sensation, and gave me quite an eerie feeling."
But a great surprise awaited her; in fact, when Mr. Sleuth's landlady opened the door of the drawing-room she very nearly dropped the tray. She actually did drop the Bible, and it fell with a heavy thud to the ground.
The new lodger had turned all those nice framed engravings of the early Victorian beauties, of which Mrs. Bunting had been so proud, with their faces to the wall!
For a moment she was really too surprised to speak. Putting the tray down on the table, she stooped and picked up the Book. It troubled her that the should have fallen to the ground; but really she hadn't been able to help it - it was mercy that the tray hadn't fallen, too.
Mr. Sleuth got up. "I - I have taken the liberty to arrange the room as I should wish it to be," he said awkwardly. "You see, Mrs. - er - Bunting, I felt as I sat here that these women's eyes followed me about. It was a most unpleasant sensation, and gave me quite an eerie feeling."
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
contemporary painting
contemporary painting
african art painting
art work painting
abstract art painting
And you did not see him? At least that is what the prosecution declares."
"No! We all of us saw him, Monsieur le President!" cried Rouletabille.
"Then why was he not arrested?"
"Because no one, besides myself, knew that he was the murderer. It would have spoiled my plans to have had him arrested, and I had then no proof other than my own reasoning. I was convinced we had the murderer before us and that we were actually looking at him. I have now brought what I consider the indisputable proof."
"Speak out, Monsieur! Tell us the murderer's name."
"You will find it on the list of names present in the court on the night of the tragedy," replied Rouletabille.
The people present in the court-room began showing impatience. Some of them even called for the name, and were silenced by the usher.
"The list includes Daddy Jacques, Bemier the concierge, and Mr. Arthur Rance," said the President. "Do you accuse any of these?"
"No, Monsieur!"
"Then I do not understand what you are driving at. There was no other person at the end of the court."
contemporary landscape painting
contemporary landscape painting
acrylic landscape painting
abstract landscape painting
landscape painting sale
n the 15th of January, that is to say, two months and a half after the tragic events I have narrated, the "Epoque" printed, as the first column of the front page, the following sensational article: "The Seine-et-Oise jury is summoned to-day to give its verdict on one of the most mysterious affairs in the annals of crime. There never has been a case with so many obscure, incomprehensible, and inexplicable points. And yet the prosecution has not hesitated to put into the prisoner's dock a man who is respected, esteemed, and loved by all who knew him - a young savant, the hope of French science, whose whole life has been devoted to knowledge and truth. When Paris heard of Monsieur Robert Darzac's arrest a unanimous cry of protest arose from all sides. The whole Sorbonne, disgraced by this act of the examining magistrate, asserted its belief in the innocence of Mademoiselle Stangerson's fiance. Monsieur Stangerson was loud in his denunciation of this miscarriage of justice. There is no doubt in the mind of anybody that could the victim speak she would claim from the jurors of Seine-et-Oise the man she wishes to make her husband and whom the prosecution would send to the scaffold. It is to be hoped that Mademoiselle Stangerson will shortly recover her reason, which has been temporarily unhinged by the horrible mystery at the Glandier. The question before the jury is the one we propose to deal with this very day.
acrylic landscape painting
abstract landscape painting
landscape painting sale
n the 15th of January, that is to say, two months and a half after the tragic events I have narrated, the "Epoque" printed, as the first column of the front page, the following sensational article: "The Seine-et-Oise jury is summoned to-day to give its verdict on one of the most mysterious affairs in the annals of crime. There never has been a case with so many obscure, incomprehensible, and inexplicable points. And yet the prosecution has not hesitated to put into the prisoner's dock a man who is respected, esteemed, and loved by all who knew him - a young savant, the hope of French science, whose whole life has been devoted to knowledge and truth. When Paris heard of Monsieur Robert Darzac's arrest a unanimous cry of protest arose from all sides. The whole Sorbonne, disgraced by this act of the examining magistrate, asserted its belief in the innocence of Mademoiselle Stangerson's fiance. Monsieur Stangerson was loud in his denunciation of this miscarriage of justice. There is no doubt in the mind of anybody that could the victim speak she would claim from the jurors of Seine-et-Oise the man she wishes to make her husband and whom the prosecution would send to the scaffold. It is to be hoped that Mademoiselle Stangerson will shortly recover her reason, which has been temporarily unhinged by the horrible mystery at the Glandier. The question before the jury is the one we propose to deal with this very day.
thomas kinkade painting
thomas kinkade painting
had hardly recovered from the surprise into which this new discovery had plunged me, when Rouletabille touched me on the shoulder and asked me to follow him into his room.
"What are we going to do there?"
"To think the matter over."
I confess I was in no condition for doing much thinking, nor could I understand how Rouletabille could so control himself as to be able calmly to sit down for reflection when he must have known that Mademoiselle Stangerson was at that moment almost on the point of death. But his self-control was more than I could explain. Closing the door of his room, he motioned me to a chair and, seating himself before me, took out his pipe. We sat there for some time in silence and then I fell asleep.
When I awoke it was daylight. It was eight o'clock by my watch. Rouletabille was no longer in the room. I rose to go out when the door opened and my friend re-entered. He had evidently lost no time.
had hardly recovered from the surprise into which this new discovery had plunged me, when Rouletabille touched me on the shoulder and asked me to follow him into his room.
"What are we going to do there?"
"To think the matter over."
I confess I was in no condition for doing much thinking, nor could I understand how Rouletabille could so control himself as to be able calmly to sit down for reflection when he must have known that Mademoiselle Stangerson was at that moment almost on the point of death. But his self-control was more than I could explain. Closing the door of his room, he motioned me to a chair and, seating himself before me, took out his pipe. We sat there for some time in silence and then I fell asleep.
When I awoke it was daylight. It was eight o'clock by my watch. Rouletabille was no longer in the room. I rose to go out when the door opened and my friend re-entered. He had evidently lost no time.
mona lisa painting
mona lisa painting
Daddy Jacques showed a stupidly sorrowful face and with silly lamentations kept repeating that we were mistaken - the keeper could not be the assailant. We were obliged to compel him to be quiet. He could not have shown greater grief had the body been that of his own son. I noticed, while all the rest of us were more or less undressed and barefooted, that he was fully clothed.
Rouletabille had not left the body. Kneeling on the flagstones by the light of Daddy Jacques's lantern he removed the clothes from the body and laid bare its breast. Then snatching the lantern from Daddy Jacques, he held it over the corpse and saw a gaping wound. Rising suddenly he exclaimed in a voice filled with savage irony:
"The man you believe to have been shot was killed by the stab of a knife in his heart!"
I thought Rouletabille had gone mad; but, bending over the body, I quickly satisfied myself that Rouletabille was right. Not a sign of a bullet anywhere - the wound, evidently made by a sharp blade, had penetrated the heart.
Daddy Jacques showed a stupidly sorrowful face and with silly lamentations kept repeating that we were mistaken - the keeper could not be the assailant. We were obliged to compel him to be quiet. He could not have shown greater grief had the body been that of his own son. I noticed, while all the rest of us were more or less undressed and barefooted, that he was fully clothed.
Rouletabille had not left the body. Kneeling on the flagstones by the light of Daddy Jacques's lantern he removed the clothes from the body and laid bare its breast. Then snatching the lantern from Daddy Jacques, he held it over the corpse and saw a gaping wound. Rising suddenly he exclaimed in a voice filled with savage irony:
"The man you believe to have been shot was killed by the stab of a knife in his heart!"
I thought Rouletabille had gone mad; but, bending over the body, I quickly satisfied myself that Rouletabille was right. Not a sign of a bullet anywhere - the wound, evidently made by a sharp blade, had penetrated the heart.
da vinci painting
da vinci painting
Since reaching the dead shadow, a thick cloud had covered the moon and darkened the night, so that we were unable to make out the features. Daddy Jacques, who had now joined us, helped us to carry the body into the vestibule, where we laid it down on the lower step of the stairs. On the way, I had felt my hands wet from the warm blood flowing from the wounds.
Daddy Jacques flew to the kitchen and returned with a lantern. He held it close to the face of the dead shadow, and we recognised the keeper, the man called by the landlord of the Donjon Inn the Green Man, whom, an hour earlier, I had seen come out of Arthur Rance's chamber carrying a parcel. But what I had seen I could only tell Rouletabille later, when we were alone.
Rouletabille and Frederic Larsan experienced a cruel disappointment at the result of the night's adventure. They could only look in consternation and stupefaction at the body of the Green Man.
Since reaching the dead shadow, a thick cloud had covered the moon and darkened the night, so that we were unable to make out the features. Daddy Jacques, who had now joined us, helped us to carry the body into the vestibule, where we laid it down on the lower step of the stairs. On the way, I had felt my hands wet from the warm blood flowing from the wounds.
Daddy Jacques flew to the kitchen and returned with a lantern. He held it close to the face of the dead shadow, and we recognised the keeper, the man called by the landlord of the Donjon Inn the Green Man, whom, an hour earlier, I had seen come out of Arthur Rance's chamber carrying a parcel. But what I had seen I could only tell Rouletabille later, when we were alone.
Rouletabille and Frederic Larsan experienced a cruel disappointment at the result of the night's adventure. They could only look in consternation and stupefaction at the body of the Green Man.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Van Gogh Painting
Van Gogh Painting
which appeared to me so inexplicable, remained unexplained, I thought it was the duty of all of us to refrain from suspecting anybody. But, then, that seemingly senseless phrase - "The presbytery has lost nothing of its charm, nor the garden its brightness" - still rang in my ears. What did it mean? I was eager to rejoin Rouletabille and question him.
At that moment the young man came out of the chateau in the company of Monsieur Robert Darzac, and, extraordinary to relate, I saw, at a glance, that they were the best of friends. "We are going to The Yellow Room. Come with us," Rouletabille said to me. "You know, my dear boy, I am going to keep you with me all day. We'll breakfast together somewhere about here -"
"You'll breakfast with me, here, gentlemen -"
"No, thanks," replied the young man. "We shall breakfast at the Donjon Inn."
"You'll fare very badly there; you'll not find anything -"
which appeared to me so inexplicable, remained unexplained, I thought it was the duty of all of us to refrain from suspecting anybody. But, then, that seemingly senseless phrase - "The presbytery has lost nothing of its charm, nor the garden its brightness" - still rang in my ears. What did it mean? I was eager to rejoin Rouletabille and question him.
At that moment the young man came out of the chateau in the company of Monsieur Robert Darzac, and, extraordinary to relate, I saw, at a glance, that they were the best of friends. "We are going to The Yellow Room. Come with us," Rouletabille said to me. "You know, my dear boy, I am going to keep you with me all day. We'll breakfast together somewhere about here -"
"You'll breakfast with me, here, gentlemen -"
"No, thanks," replied the young man. "We shall breakfast at the Donjon Inn."
"You'll fare very badly there; you'll not find anything -"
Henri Matisse Painting
Henri Matisse Painting
Are you satisfied?"
"No!" replied Rouletabille. "My dear friend," he said, turning to me, "I am obliged to ask you to leave us alone for a moment."
I bowed and retired; stupefied by what I had seen and heard. I could not understand why Monsieur Robert Darzac had not already shown the door to my impertinent, insulting, and stupid friend. I was angry myself with Rouletabille at that moment, for his suspicions, which had led to this scene of the gloves.
For some twenty minutes I walked about in front of the chateau, trying vainly to link together the different events of the day. What was in Rouletabile's mind? Was it possible that he thought Monsieur Robert Darzac to be the murderer? How could it be thought that this man, who was to have married Mademoiselle Stangerson in the course of a few days, had introduced himself into The Yellow Room to assassinate his fiancee? I could find no explanation as to how the murderer had been able to leave The Yellow Room; and so long as that mystery,
Are you satisfied?"
"No!" replied Rouletabille. "My dear friend," he said, turning to me, "I am obliged to ask you to leave us alone for a moment."
I bowed and retired; stupefied by what I had seen and heard. I could not understand why Monsieur Robert Darzac had not already shown the door to my impertinent, insulting, and stupid friend. I was angry myself with Rouletabille at that moment, for his suspicions, which had led to this scene of the gloves.
For some twenty minutes I walked about in front of the chateau, trying vainly to link together the different events of the day. What was in Rouletabile's mind? Was it possible that he thought Monsieur Robert Darzac to be the murderer? How could it be thought that this man, who was to have married Mademoiselle Stangerson in the course of a few days, had introduced himself into The Yellow Room to assassinate his fiancee? I could find no explanation as to how the murderer had been able to leave The Yellow Room; and so long as that mystery,
Marc Chagall Painting
Marc Chagall Painting
Darzac shrank back.
"What does that mean?"
Evidently he understood, what I also understood, that my friend suspected him of the abominable attempt on the life of Mademoiselle Stangerson. The impression of the blood-stained hand on the walls of The Yellow Room was in his mind. I looked at the man closely. His haughty face with its expression ordinarily so straightforward was at this moment strangely troubled. He held out his right hand and, referring to me, said:
"As you are a friend of Monsieur Sainclair who has rendered me invaluable services in a just cause, monsieur, I see no reason for refusing you my hand -"
Rouletabille did not take the extended hand. Lying with the utmost audacity, he said:
"Monsieur, I have lived several years in Russia, where I have acquired the habit of never taking any but an ungloved hand."
I thought that the Sorbonne professor would express his anger openly, but, on the contrary, by a visibly violent effort, he calmed himself, took off his gloves, and showed his hands; they were unmarked by any cicatrix.
Darzac shrank back.
"What does that mean?"
Evidently he understood, what I also understood, that my friend suspected him of the abominable attempt on the life of Mademoiselle Stangerson. The impression of the blood-stained hand on the walls of The Yellow Room was in his mind. I looked at the man closely. His haughty face with its expression ordinarily so straightforward was at this moment strangely troubled. He held out his right hand and, referring to me, said:
"As you are a friend of Monsieur Sainclair who has rendered me invaluable services in a just cause, monsieur, I see no reason for refusing you my hand -"
Rouletabille did not take the extended hand. Lying with the utmost audacity, he said:
"Monsieur, I have lived several years in Russia, where I have acquired the habit of never taking any but an ungloved hand."
I thought that the Sorbonne professor would express his anger openly, but, on the contrary, by a visibly violent effort, he calmed himself, took off his gloves, and showed his hands; they were unmarked by any cicatrix.
flower oil painting
flower oil painting
Mademoiselle Stangerson's room, the builder's job ordered by the examining magistrate will give us the key of the enigma and it will not be long before we learn by what natural trap, or by what secret door, the old fellow was able to slip in and out, and return immediately to the laboratory to Monsieur Stangerson, without his absence being noticed. That, of course, is only an hypothesis."
*Although the original English translation often uses the words "murder" and "murderer," the reader may substitute "attack" and "attacker" since no murder is actually committed.
Rouletabille sat down in an armchair, lit his pipe, which he was never without, smoked for a few minutes in silence - no doubt to calm the excitement which, visibly, dominated him - and then replied:
"Young man," he said, in a tone the sad irony of which I will not attempt to render, "young man, you are a lawyer and I doubt not your ability to save the
Mademoiselle Stangerson's room, the builder's job ordered by the examining magistrate will give us the key of the enigma and it will not be long before we learn by what natural trap, or by what secret door, the old fellow was able to slip in and out, and return immediately to the laboratory to Monsieur Stangerson, without his absence being noticed. That, of course, is only an hypothesis."
*Although the original English translation often uses the words "murder" and "murderer," the reader may substitute "attack" and "attacker" since no murder is actually committed.
Rouletabille sat down in an armchair, lit his pipe, which he was never without, smoked for a few minutes in silence - no doubt to calm the excitement which, visibly, dominated him - and then replied:
"Young man," he said, in a tone the sad irony of which I will not attempt to render, "young man, you are a lawyer and I doubt not your ability to save the
famous angel painting
famous angel painting
details of crimes, the press ends by encouraging their commission. But then, with some people we can never do right. Rouletabille, as I have said, entered my room that morning of the 26th of October, 1892. He was looking redder than usual, and his eyes were bulging out of his head, as the phrase is, and altogether he appeared to be in a state of extreme excitement. He waved the "Matin" with a trembling hand, and cried:
"Well, my dear Sainclair, - have you read it?"
"The Glandier crime?"
"Yes; The Yellow Room! - What do you think of it?"
"I think that it must have been the Devil or the Bete du Bon Dieu that committed the crime."
"Be serious!"
"Well, I don't much believe in murderers* who make their escape through walls of solid brick. I think Daddy Jacques did wrong to leave behind him the weapon with which the crime was committed and, as he occupied the attic immediately above
details of crimes, the press ends by encouraging their commission. But then, with some people we can never do right. Rouletabille, as I have said, entered my room that morning of the 26th of October, 1892. He was looking redder than usual, and his eyes were bulging out of his head, as the phrase is, and altogether he appeared to be in a state of extreme excitement. He waved the "Matin" with a trembling hand, and cried:
"Well, my dear Sainclair, - have you read it?"
"The Glandier crime?"
"Yes; The Yellow Room! - What do you think of it?"
"I think that it must have been the Devil or the Bete du Bon Dieu that committed the crime."
"Be serious!"
"Well, I don't much believe in murderers* who make their escape through walls of solid brick. I think Daddy Jacques did wrong to leave behind him the weapon with which the crime was committed and, as he occupied the attic immediately above
famous oil painting
famous oil painting
in him what was, considering his age, an extraordinary seriousness of mind. Accustomed as I was to seeing him gay and, indeed, often too gay, I would many times find him plunged in the deepest melancholy. I tried then to question him as to the cause of this change of humour, but each time he laughed and made me no answer. One day, having questioned him about his parents, of whom he never spoke, he left me, pretending not to have heard what I said.
While things were in this state between us, the famous case of The Yellow Room took place. It was this case which was to rank him as the leading newspaper reporter, and to obtain for him the reputation of being the greatest detective in the world. It should not surprise us to find in the one man the perfection of two such lines of activity if we remember that the daily press was already beginning to transform itself and to become what it is to-day - the gazette of crime.
Morose-minded people may complain of this; for myself I regard it a matter for congratulation. We can never have too many arms, public or private, against the criminal. To this some people may answer that, by continually publishing the
in him what was, considering his age, an extraordinary seriousness of mind. Accustomed as I was to seeing him gay and, indeed, often too gay, I would many times find him plunged in the deepest melancholy. I tried then to question him as to the cause of this change of humour, but each time he laughed and made me no answer. One day, having questioned him about his parents, of whom he never spoke, he left me, pretending not to have heard what I said.
While things were in this state between us, the famous case of The Yellow Room took place. It was this case which was to rank him as the leading newspaper reporter, and to obtain for him the reputation of being the greatest detective in the world. It should not surprise us to find in the one man the perfection of two such lines of activity if we remember that the daily press was already beginning to transform itself and to become what it is to-day - the gazette of crime.
Morose-minded people may complain of this; for myself I regard it a matter for congratulation. We can never have too many arms, public or private, against the criminal. To this some people may answer that, by continually publishing the
Sunday, May 11, 2008
mona lisa painting
mona lisa painting
Just then, the conversation was interrupted by approaching footsteps. It was the owner of the field, who was coming on tiptoes to see if, by chance, he had caught the Weasels which had been eating his chickens.
Great was his surprise when, on holding up his lantern, he saw that, instead of a Weasel, he had caught a boy!
"Ah, you little thief!" said the Farmer in an angry voice. "So you are the one who steals my chickens!"
We have hundreds more books for your enjoyment. Read them all!
"Not I! No, no!" cried Pinocchio, sobbing bitterly. "I came here only to take a very few grapes."
"He who steals grapes may very easily steal chickens also. Take my word for it, I'll give you a lesson that you'll remember for a long while."
He opened the trap, grabbed the Marionette by the collar, and carried him to the house as if he were a puppy. When he reached the yard in front of the house, he flung him to the ground, put a foot on his neck, and said to him roughly: "It is late now and it's time for bed. Tomorrow we'll settle matters. In the meantime, since my watchdog died today, you may take his place and guard my henhouse."
No sooner said than done. He slipped a dog collar around Pinocchio's neck and tightened it so that it would not come off. A long iron chain was tied to the collar. The other end of the chain was nailed to the wall.
"If tonight it should happen to rain," said the Farmer, "you can sleep in that little doghouse near-by, where you will find plenty of straw for a soft bed. It has been Melampo's bed for three years, and it will be good enough for you. And if, by any chance, any thieves should come, be sure to bark!"
After this last warning, the Farmer went into the house and closed the door and barred it.
Just then, the conversation was interrupted by approaching footsteps. It was the owner of the field, who was coming on tiptoes to see if, by chance, he had caught the Weasels which had been eating his chickens.
Great was his surprise when, on holding up his lantern, he saw that, instead of a Weasel, he had caught a boy!
"Ah, you little thief!" said the Farmer in an angry voice. "So you are the one who steals my chickens!"
We have hundreds more books for your enjoyment. Read them all!
"Not I! No, no!" cried Pinocchio, sobbing bitterly. "I came here only to take a very few grapes."
"He who steals grapes may very easily steal chickens also. Take my word for it, I'll give you a lesson that you'll remember for a long while."
He opened the trap, grabbed the Marionette by the collar, and carried him to the house as if he were a puppy. When he reached the yard in front of the house, he flung him to the ground, put a foot on his neck, and said to him roughly: "It is late now and it's time for bed. Tomorrow we'll settle matters. In the meantime, since my watchdog died today, you may take his place and guard my henhouse."
No sooner said than done. He slipped a dog collar around Pinocchio's neck and tightened it so that it would not come off. A long iron chain was tied to the collar. The other end of the chain was nailed to the wall.
"If tonight it should happen to rain," said the Farmer, "you can sleep in that little doghouse near-by, where you will find plenty of straw for a soft bed. It has been Melampo's bed for three years, and it will be good enough for you. And if, by any chance, any thieves should come, be sure to bark!"
After this last warning, the Farmer went into the house and closed the door and barred it.
claude monet painting
claude monet painting
Pinocchio is caught by a Farmer, who uses him as a watchdog for his chicken coop
Pinocchio, as you may well imagine, began to scream and weep and beg; but all was of no use, for no houses were to be seen and not a soul passed by on the road.
Night came on.
A little because of the sharp pain in his legs, a little because of fright at finding himself alone in the darkness of the field, the Marionette was about to faint, when he saw a tiny Glowworm flickering by. He called to her and said:
"Dear little Glowworm, will you set me free?"
"Poor little fellow!" replied the Glowworm, stopping to look at him with pity. "How came you to be caught in this trap?"
"I stepped into this lonely field to take a few grapes and--"
"Are the grapes yours?"
"No."
"Who has taught you to take things that do not belong to you?"
"I was hungry."
"Hunger, my boy, is no reason for taking something which belongs to another."
"It's true, it's true!" cried Pinocchio in tears. "I won't do it again."
Pinocchio is caught by a Farmer, who uses him as a watchdog for his chicken coop
Pinocchio, as you may well imagine, began to scream and weep and beg; but all was of no use, for no houses were to be seen and not a soul passed by on the road.
Night came on.
A little because of the sharp pain in his legs, a little because of fright at finding himself alone in the darkness of the field, the Marionette was about to faint, when he saw a tiny Glowworm flickering by. He called to her and said:
"Dear little Glowworm, will you set me free?"
"Poor little fellow!" replied the Glowworm, stopping to look at him with pity. "How came you to be caught in this trap?"
"I stepped into this lonely field to take a few grapes and--"
"Are the grapes yours?"
"No."
"Who has taught you to take things that do not belong to you?"
"I was hungry."
"Hunger, my boy, is no reason for taking something which belongs to another."
"It's true, it's true!" cried Pinocchio in tears. "I won't do it again."
famous painting
famous painting
As he spoke, he stopped suddenly, frozen with terror.
What was the matter? An immense Serpent lay stretched across the road--a Serpent with a bright green skin, fiery eyes which glowed and burned, and a pointed tail that smoked like a chimney.
How frightened was poor Pinocchio! He ran back wildly for half a mile, and at last settled himself atop a heap of stones to wait for the Serpent to go on his way and leave the road clear for him.
He waited an hour; two hours; three hours; but the Serpent was always there, and even from afar one could see the flash of his red eyes and the column of smoke which rose from his long, pointed tail.
Pinocchio, trying to feel very brave, walked straight up to him and said in a sweet, soothing voice:
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Serpent, would you be so kind as to step aside to let me pass?"
He might as well have talked to a wall. The Serpent never moved.
Once more, in the same sweet voice, he spoke:
"You must know, Mr. Serpent, that I am going home where my father is waiting for me. It is so long since I have seen him! Would you mind very much if I passed?"
As he spoke, he stopped suddenly, frozen with terror.
What was the matter? An immense Serpent lay stretched across the road--a Serpent with a bright green skin, fiery eyes which glowed and burned, and a pointed tail that smoked like a chimney.
How frightened was poor Pinocchio! He ran back wildly for half a mile, and at last settled himself atop a heap of stones to wait for the Serpent to go on his way and leave the road clear for him.
He waited an hour; two hours; three hours; but the Serpent was always there, and even from afar one could see the flash of his red eyes and the column of smoke which rose from his long, pointed tail.
Pinocchio, trying to feel very brave, walked straight up to him and said in a sweet, soothing voice:
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Serpent, would you be so kind as to step aside to let me pass?"
He might as well have talked to a wall. The Serpent never moved.
Once more, in the same sweet voice, he spoke:
"You must know, Mr. Serpent, that I am going home where my father is waiting for me. It is so long since I have seen him! Would you mind very much if I passed?"
Saturday, May 10, 2008
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wholesale oil painting
Now, indeed, I seemed in a worse case than before. Hitherto, except during my night's anguish at the loss of the Time Machine, I had felt a sustaining hope of ultimate escape, but that hope was staggered by these new discoveries. Hitherto I had merely thought myself impeded by the childish simplicity of the little people, and by some unknown forces which I had only to understand to overcome; but there was an altogether new element in the sickening quality of the Morlocks--a something inhuman and malign. Instinctively I loathed them. Before, I had felt as a man might feel who had fallen into a pit: my concern was with the pit and how to get out of it. Now I felt like a beast in a trap, whose enemy would come upon him soon.
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`The enemy I dreaded may surprise you. It was the darkness of the new moon. Weena had put this into my head by some at first incomprehensible remarks about the Dark Nights. It was not now such a very difficult problem to guess what the coming Dark Nights might mean. The moon was on the wane: each night there was a longer interval of darkness. And I now understood to some slight degree at least the reason of the fear of the little Upper-world people for the dark. I wondered vaguely what foul villainy it might be that the Morlocks did under the new moon. I felt pretty sure now that my second hypothesis was all wrong. The Upper-world people might once have been the favoured aristocracy, and the Morlocks their mechanical servants: but that had long since passed away.
Now, indeed, I seemed in a worse case than before. Hitherto, except during my night's anguish at the loss of the Time Machine, I had felt a sustaining hope of ultimate escape, but that hope was staggered by these new discoveries. Hitherto I had merely thought myself impeded by the childish simplicity of the little people, and by some unknown forces which I had only to understand to overcome; but there was an altogether new element in the sickening quality of the Morlocks--a something inhuman and malign. Instinctively I loathed them. Before, I had felt as a man might feel who had fallen into a pit: my concern was with the pit and how to get out of it. Now I felt like a beast in a trap, whose enemy would come upon him soon.
We have hundreds more books for your enjoyment. Read them all!
`The enemy I dreaded may surprise you. It was the darkness of the new moon. Weena had put this into my head by some at first incomprehensible remarks about the Dark Nights. It was not now such a very difficult problem to guess what the coming Dark Nights might mean. The moon was on the wane: each night there was a longer interval of darkness. And I now understood to some slight degree at least the reason of the fear of the little Upper-world people for the dark. I wondered vaguely what foul villainy it might be that the Morlocks did under the new moon. I felt pretty sure now that my second hypothesis was all wrong. The Upper-world people might once have been the favoured aristocracy, and the Morlocks their mechanical servants: but that had long since passed away.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
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oil painting art work
him, for he had put the idea of war out of his mind entirely, and the brief years since Okinawa had been the richest of his life. They had produced, among lesser things, a loving, tenderly passionate wife who had passed on to their little girl both some of her gentle nature and her wealthof butter-colored hair; a law degree, the fruits of which he had just begun to realize, even though still somewhat impecuniously, as one of the brightest juniors in a good New York law firm; a friendly beagle named Howard whom he took for hikes in Washington Square; a cat, whom he did not deign to call by name, and despised; and a record-player that played Haydn, Mozart and Bach.
Up until the day that his orders came— the day that he tried to forget and the one that Betsy, his wife, soon bitterly referred to as "the day the roof fell in"—they had been living in a roomy walk-up in the Village and experiencing the prosaic contentment that comes from eating properly, indulging themselves with fair moderation in the pleasures of the city, and watching the growth of a child. This is not to say that they were either smug or dull. They had a bright circle of friends, mostly young lawyers and newspapermen and doctors and their wives. There were parties and occasional week ends in the country, where everyone became frankly drunk. There were the usual household skirmishes, too, but these were infrequent and petered out quickly. Both of them were too sensible to allow some domestic misdemeanor to develop into anything
him, for he had put the idea of war out of his mind entirely, and the brief years since Okinawa had been the richest of his life. They had produced, among lesser things, a loving, tenderly passionate wife who had passed on to their little girl both some of her gentle nature and her wealthof butter-colored hair; a law degree, the fruits of which he had just begun to realize, even though still somewhat impecuniously, as one of the brightest juniors in a good New York law firm; a friendly beagle named Howard whom he took for hikes in Washington Square; a cat, whom he did not deign to call by name, and despised; and a record-player that played Haydn, Mozart and Bach.
Up until the day that his orders came— the day that he tried to forget and the one that Betsy, his wife, soon bitterly referred to as "the day the roof fell in"—they had been living in a roomy walk-up in the Village and experiencing the prosaic contentment that comes from eating properly, indulging themselves with fair moderation in the pleasures of the city, and watching the growth of a child. This is not to say that they were either smug or dull. They had a bright circle of friends, mostly young lawyers and newspapermen and doctors and their wives. There were parties and occasional week ends in the country, where everyone became frankly drunk. There were the usual household skirmishes, too, but these were infrequent and petered out quickly. Both of them were too sensible to allow some domestic misdemeanor to develop into anything
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art painting reproduction
early 1950s, passed as peacetime) one had felt no particular need for that type of self-defense, and the slick nude litter of intestine and shattered blue bones, among which forks and spoons peeked out like so many pathetic metal flowers, made a crazy, insulting impact at Culver's belly, like the blow of a fist. And on the other hand (and the pulsing ache at his brow now as he vomited helplessly onto his shoes lent confirmation to what he'd been trying to deny to himself for months): he was too old, he was no longer an eager kid just out of Quantico with a knife between his teeth. He was almost thirty, he was old, and he was afraid.
Lieutenant Culver had been called back to the marines early that spring. When, one Saturday morning, his wife had thrown the brown envelope containing his orders onto the bed where he lay sleeping, he experienced an odd distress which kept him wandering about, baffled and mumbling to himself, for days. Like most of his fellow reserves he had retained his commission after the last war. It was an insouciant gesture which he had assumed would in some way benefit him in case of an all-out conflict, say, thirty years hence, but one which made no provisions for such an eventuality as a police action in Korea. It had all come much too soon and Culver had felt weirdly as if he had fallen asleep in some barracks in 1945 and had awakened in a half-dozen years or so to find that the intervening freedom, growth, and serenity had been only a glorious if somewhat prolonged dream. A flood of protest had welled up in
early 1950s, passed as peacetime) one had felt no particular need for that type of self-defense, and the slick nude litter of intestine and shattered blue bones, among which forks and spoons peeked out like so many pathetic metal flowers, made a crazy, insulting impact at Culver's belly, like the blow of a fist. And on the other hand (and the pulsing ache at his brow now as he vomited helplessly onto his shoes lent confirmation to what he'd been trying to deny to himself for months): he was too old, he was no longer an eager kid just out of Quantico with a knife between his teeth. He was almost thirty, he was old, and he was afraid.
Lieutenant Culver had been called back to the marines early that spring. When, one Saturday morning, his wife had thrown the brown envelope containing his orders onto the bed where he lay sleeping, he experienced an odd distress which kept him wandering about, baffled and mumbling to himself, for days. Like most of his fellow reserves he had retained his commission after the last war. It was an insouciant gesture which he had assumed would in some way benefit him in case of an all-out conflict, say, thirty years hence, but one which made no provisions for such an eventuality as a police action in Korea. It had all come much too soon and Culver had felt weirdly as if he had fallen asleep in some barracks in 1945 and had awakened in a half-dozen years or so to find that the intervening freedom, growth, and serenity had been only a glorious if somewhat prolonged dream. A flood of protest had welled up in
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fine art painting gallery
confusion—just before he had stolen off from the Colonel's side to go behind a tree and get sick—Lieutenant Culver had had a glimpse of a young sweaty face grimed with dust, had heard the boy's voice, astonishing even in that moment of nausea because of its clear, unhysterical tone of explanation: "Major, I tell you I was on the field phone and I tell you as soon as they come out the tube I knew they were short rounds and so I hollered . . ." Of course it had been an accident. But why? He heard the Major shout something, then Culver had heard no more, retching on the leaves with a sound that, for the moment, drowned out the cries and whines of the wounded and the noise of trucks and ambulances crashing up through the underbrush.
It was not that he had a weak stomach or that he was unacquainted with carnage that allowed him to lose control. If anything, he prided himself on his stomach, and as for blood he had seen a lot spilled on Okinawa and had himself (although through no act of valor whatever) received a shrapnel wound —in the buttocks, a matter which even in retrospect, as he had often been forced to remind his wife, possessed no elements of comedy at all. In this case it was simply that on the one hand he himself had been shocked. The sight of death was the sort of thing which in wartime is expected, which one protects oneself against, and which is finally excused or tt least ignored, in the same way that a beggar is ignored, or a head cold, or a social problem. But in training here in the States in peacetime (or what, this sweltering summer in the
confusion—just before he had stolen off from the Colonel's side to go behind a tree and get sick—Lieutenant Culver had had a glimpse of a young sweaty face grimed with dust, had heard the boy's voice, astonishing even in that moment of nausea because of its clear, unhysterical tone of explanation: "Major, I tell you I was on the field phone and I tell you as soon as they come out the tube I knew they were short rounds and so I hollered . . ." Of course it had been an accident. But why? He heard the Major shout something, then Culver had heard no more, retching on the leaves with a sound that, for the moment, drowned out the cries and whines of the wounded and the noise of trucks and ambulances crashing up through the underbrush.
It was not that he had a weak stomach or that he was unacquainted with carnage that allowed him to lose control. If anything, he prided himself on his stomach, and as for blood he had seen a lot spilled on Okinawa and had himself (although through no act of valor whatever) received a shrapnel wound —in the buttocks, a matter which even in retrospect, as he had often been forced to remind his wife, possessed no elements of comedy at all. In this case it was simply that on the one hand he himself had been shocked. The sight of death was the sort of thing which in wartime is expected, which one protects oneself against, and which is finally excused or tt least ignored, in the same way that a beggar is ignored, or a head cold, or a social problem. But in training here in the States in peacetime (or what, this sweltering summer in the
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famous oil painting
于是，原来大豪居住的房子有了新的主人，而对于底层的百姓来说，大豪依旧是大豪，奴仆还是奴仆，生活并没有什么改变。
我觅着秣陵城外山野的小路而行，只待到天快黑的时候再混进城去，正傍徨时，从道旁的树林中却跑出三匹马来，马背上的人皆是锦衣皮裘，穿着华丽，手上弯弓搭箭，连所乘马匹也是江南难得一见的战驹，看样子分别是当权的世族子弟出来行猎。
“幼平，听说你与城门上被悬赏檄捕的高宠是结义兄弟？”隐约间有说话声传来，听这口气很是老到，但声音却透着稚嫩。
另有一人回道：“禀二公子，我周泰虽与那高宠结交，但若是今日遇上了，我当不徇私情，以公事为重！”
这声音是如此的熟悉，周泰——，他要以公事为重，他要不徇私情，是口头说说而已，还是真的要这么做，我的心感到了阵阵的悸动。
马蹄声碎，渐行渐近，我打眼望去，只见居中一人，形貌奇伟，骨体不恆，方颐大口，一对碧眼放着精光，不过年纪倒是不大，只在十三四岁上下，行止间现出稚气未脱的样子。但那眼神却分别透着大人才有的精明。
于是，原来大豪居住的房子有了新的主人，而对于底层的百姓来说，大豪依旧是大豪，奴仆还是奴仆，生活并没有什么改变。
我觅着秣陵城外山野的小路而行，只待到天快黑的时候再混进城去，正傍徨时，从道旁的树林中却跑出三匹马来，马背上的人皆是锦衣皮裘，穿着华丽，手上弯弓搭箭，连所乘马匹也是江南难得一见的战驹，看样子分别是当权的世族子弟出来行猎。
“幼平，听说你与城门上被悬赏檄捕的高宠是结义兄弟？”隐约间有说话声传来，听这口气很是老到，但声音却透着稚嫩。
另有一人回道：“禀二公子，我周泰虽与那高宠结交，但若是今日遇上了，我当不徇私情，以公事为重！”
这声音是如此的熟悉，周泰——，他要以公事为重，他要不徇私情，是口头说说而已，还是真的要这么做，我的心感到了阵阵的悸动。
马蹄声碎，渐行渐近，我打眼望去，只见居中一人，形貌奇伟，骨体不恆，方颐大口，一对碧眼放着精光，不过年纪倒是不大，只在十三四岁上下，行止间现出稚气未脱的样子。但那眼神却分别透着大人才有的精明。
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famous diego rivera painting
我看着陆逊神采奕奕的样子，心里也为他高兴，无论以后怎样，这一次我总算是回报了一次陆家对我的救命之恩，看到陆家的重新崛起，这也是陆缇心中的愿望吧，恍然中，我看到陆缇逆着光，笑着朝我走来。
“少冲兄，这一次多亏了你，元叹在此谢过了！”不知什么时候，顾雍、张允、朱桓几个围了过来。
我脸上一红，知道陆逊坦坦荡荡，已将事情的全部经过说了出来。
我道：“顾公过奖了，小子只不过是做了应该做的事情，何敢担一个谢字。”
朱桓虎目一瞪，大声道：“想不到神亭岭上的血性英雄就在眼前，我真是有眼无珠，少冲兄，我朱休穆生平以来未敬服过他人，这一次是真服了。”
陆逊见朱桓口中无忌，忙止声道：“休穆慎言。”
正说话时，却见后阵尘头大起，一彪军飞快得追了上来，前头一员大将，虎背熊腰，面黄睛赤，手中持着一把大刀，不是陈武是谁！
那边朱治早迎了过去，两人交谈了几句后，朱治便领着陈武向这边而来，若是陈武过来，必然一眼认出我是何人，以我在神亭岭上与陈武结的梁子，他岂能善罢干休，我见事起紧急，向陆逊使了个眼色，随后下马挤入拥挤的士卒中间。
我看着陆逊神采奕奕的样子，心里也为他高兴，无论以后怎样，这一次我总算是回报了一次陆家对我的救命之恩，看到陆家的重新崛起，这也是陆缇心中的愿望吧，恍然中，我看到陆缇逆着光，笑着朝我走来。
“少冲兄，这一次多亏了你，元叹在此谢过了！”不知什么时候，顾雍、张允、朱桓几个围了过来。
我脸上一红，知道陆逊坦坦荡荡，已将事情的全部经过说了出来。
我道：“顾公过奖了，小子只不过是做了应该做的事情，何敢担一个谢字。”
朱桓虎目一瞪，大声道：“想不到神亭岭上的血性英雄就在眼前，我真是有眼无珠，少冲兄，我朱休穆生平以来未敬服过他人，这一次是真服了。”
陆逊见朱桓口中无忌，忙止声道：“休穆慎言。”
正说话时，却见后阵尘头大起，一彪军飞快得追了上来，前头一员大将，虎背熊腰，面黄睛赤，手中持着一把大刀，不是陈武是谁！
那边朱治早迎了过去，两人交谈了几句后，朱治便领着陈武向这边而来，若是陈武过来，必然一眼认出我是何人，以我在神亭岭上与陈武结的梁子，他岂能善罢干休，我见事起紧急，向陆逊使了个眼色，随后下马挤入拥挤的士卒中间。
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
leonardo da vinci mona lisa
leonardo da vinci mona lisa
住嘴！”周泰厉声喝道。
“我与你约定三合定胜负，你与我这一战早已超过了三合多多，所以，是我败了。”我听出来，周泰嘴上虽然这么说，但语气里尤有万般的不甘心。
我道：“你若不服，我们再来打过。”
周泰一怔，料不到我会说出这句话来，他思索片刻，缓缓说道：“果然是条宁折不弯的英雄好汉，可惜要是再打的话，你不可能再有半分机会。”
我知道周泰说的是事实，方才那一战已耗尽了我所有的力气，之所以能够克制住周泰，并不是我的武艺比周泰厉害，而是我抓住了周泰轻敌的弱点，加之战术运用上对头，才会有如此的结果，现在再战的话这些条件都不再有，我岂还有胜理。
我佩服道：“不错。刚才一战我不过是侥幸得逞，若论起武艺我远不及你。”
周泰见我当着众人的面承认比不上自已，脸上甚是得意，双斧一碰，转颜大笑道：“好小子，能与我周泰斗上一番的，历数江东也找不出几个来，更难得的是还有这份胜即是胜、败就是败的坦荡胸襟，这样的人物屈身小卒，可惜之至！”
住嘴！”周泰厉声喝道。
“我与你约定三合定胜负，你与我这一战早已超过了三合多多，所以，是我败了。”我听出来，周泰嘴上虽然这么说，但语气里尤有万般的不甘心。
我道：“你若不服，我们再来打过。”
周泰一怔，料不到我会说出这句话来，他思索片刻，缓缓说道：“果然是条宁折不弯的英雄好汉，可惜要是再打的话，你不可能再有半分机会。”
我知道周泰说的是事实，方才那一战已耗尽了我所有的力气，之所以能够克制住周泰，并不是我的武艺比周泰厉害，而是我抓住了周泰轻敌的弱点，加之战术运用上对头，才会有如此的结果，现在再战的话这些条件都不再有，我岂还有胜理。
我佩服道：“不错。刚才一战我不过是侥幸得逞，若论起武艺我远不及你。”
周泰见我当着众人的面承认比不上自已，脸上甚是得意，双斧一碰，转颜大笑道：“好小子，能与我周泰斗上一番的，历数江东也找不出几个来，更难得的是还有这份胜即是胜、败就是败的坦荡胸襟，这样的人物屈身小卒，可惜之至！”
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wholesale oil painting
作为美国海军最大的武器测试基地，中国湖不仅聚集大量优秀的科学家和武器专家，也成为许多视飞行为乐趣的“亡命之徒”的乐土。在这块面积3300平方公里的“民航禁飞区”里，活跃着两支由“飞行狂徒”组成的战机测试中队——VX-31“灰色恶魔”与VX-9“吸血鬼”。
[ 转自铁血社区 http://bbs.tiexue.net/ ]
“灰色恶魔”的主要任务是：为美海军一系列飞行和地面测试提供支持，并利用配属飞机为海军航空武器的研发测试提供支持，同时接受上级调遣，赴海外承担类似任务。为此，该中队配备了25架各型飞机——15架可搭载各类测试设备的F/A-18“大黄蜂”战斗机、5架AV-8B垂直起降战斗机、3架UH-1N直升机、1架AH-1W武装直升机和1架T-39教练机。作为美国海军空战中心武器部的测试中队，“灰色恶魔”是将武器系统及其软件，整合到他们拥有的各种飞机平台上，然后进行全面的测试。目前，“灰色恶魔”中队正在测试的武器包括AGM-88E反辐射导弹、AGM-154 JSOW-C联合防区外攻击武器、装有抗干扰GPS接收机的JDAM联合制导炸弹和AIM-9X空空导弹。
1993年，美国海军将驻扎在木古角的VX-4“评估者”中队与中国湖的VX-5“幽灵”中队合并，组建了VX-9“吸血鬼”中队，中队拥有F/A-18、EA-6B、AV-8B固定翼战机及AH-1W眼镜蛇直升机。与“灰色恶魔”中队不同的是，“吸血鬼”中队侧重于
作为美国海军最大的武器测试基地，中国湖不仅聚集大量优秀的科学家和武器专家，也成为许多视飞行为乐趣的“亡命之徒”的乐土。在这块面积3300平方公里的“民航禁飞区”里，活跃着两支由“飞行狂徒”组成的战机测试中队——VX-31“灰色恶魔”与VX-9“吸血鬼”。
[ 转自铁血社区 http://bbs.tiexue.net/ ]
“灰色恶魔”的主要任务是：为美海军一系列飞行和地面测试提供支持，并利用配属飞机为海军航空武器的研发测试提供支持，同时接受上级调遣，赴海外承担类似任务。为此，该中队配备了25架各型飞机——15架可搭载各类测试设备的F/A-18“大黄蜂”战斗机、5架AV-8B垂直起降战斗机、3架UH-1N直升机、1架AH-1W武装直升机和1架T-39教练机。作为美国海军空战中心武器部的测试中队，“灰色恶魔”是将武器系统及其软件，整合到他们拥有的各种飞机平台上，然后进行全面的测试。目前，“灰色恶魔”中队正在测试的武器包括AGM-88E反辐射导弹、AGM-154 JSOW-C联合防区外攻击武器、装有抗干扰GPS接收机的JDAM联合制导炸弹和AIM-9X空空导弹。
1993年，美国海军将驻扎在木古角的VX-4“评估者”中队与中国湖的VX-5“幽灵”中队合并，组建了VX-9“吸血鬼”中队，中队拥有F/A-18、EA-6B、AV-8B固定翼战机及AH-1W眼镜蛇直升机。与“灰色恶魔”中队不同的是，“吸血鬼”中队侧重于
Monday, May 5, 2008
Gustav Klimt The Kiss
Gustav Klimt The Kiss
部分韩国媒体和民众上述近乎偏执狂的表现，充分显示了狭隘民族主义近年来在韩国的恶性蔓延，由此造成少数韩国人一边尽享中国崛起、中韩友好之福祉，一边滋长厌华、仇华情绪。如果任由这种不良趋势继续蔓延，只能激发助长中国民众对韩国的负面认识，从而让中韩之间10多年经营的友好关系蒙上阴影。如此恶性循环，受损的将是包括他们在内的中韩两国人民！我们的爱国热情，不仅仅表达在嘴上，我们需要更理性的看待问题，要区分什么是能有力的维护国家的利益，什么是有损国家利益的。大凡事物都有两面性，物极必反，我们踏踏实实的工作，认认真真的做人，把国家建设的更好才是最重要的。爱国的热情一旦演变成极端民族主义，不正是那些敌视我们的组织、国家暗自高兴的事情吗？！
我们需要呐喊，我们需要世界聆听我们的声音，不战而屈人之兵，才是最高的境界。分显示了狭隘民族主义近年来在韩国的恶性蔓延，由此造成少数韩国人一边尽享中国崛起、中韩友好之福祉，一边滋长厌华、仇华情绪
部分韩国媒体和民众上述近乎偏执狂的表现，充分显示了狭隘民族主义近年来在韩国的恶性蔓延，由此造成少数韩国人一边尽享中国崛起、中韩友好之福祉，一边滋长厌华、仇华情绪。如果任由这种不良趋势继续蔓延，只能激发助长中国民众对韩国的负面认识，从而让中韩之间10多年经营的友好关系蒙上阴影。如此恶性循环，受损的将是包括他们在内的中韩两国人民！我们的爱国热情，不仅仅表达在嘴上，我们需要更理性的看待问题，要区分什么是能有力的维护国家的利益，什么是有损国家利益的。大凡事物都有两面性，物极必反，我们踏踏实实的工作，认认真真的做人，把国家建设的更好才是最重要的。爱国的热情一旦演变成极端民族主义，不正是那些敌视我们的组织、国家暗自高兴的事情吗？！
我们需要呐喊，我们需要世界聆听我们的声音，不战而屈人之兵，才是最高的境界。分显示了狭隘民族主义近年来在韩国的恶性蔓延，由此造成少数韩国人一边尽享中国崛起、中韩友好之福祉，一边滋长厌华、仇华情绪
Sunday, May 4, 2008
art painting gallery
art painting gallery
集团军前去接替武警。由于九八年大裁军后，四十军已经撤消了师一级编制，全集团军只有五个旅，其中两个步兵旅，兵力明显不足。于是军委把原来就驻扎在丹东，但编制上归辽宁省军区的步兵第191旅划给了四十军。四十军近三万人迅速从锦州、阜新、赤峰等驻地开进边境一线。
本来2003年的二十万裁军计划中，沈阳军区要再被裁掉一个集团军。在军区交给军委的名单上首选的就是的第四十集团军。因朝鲜危机，四十军不仅有幸逃过了这一劫，而且还增编了邓小平领导百色起义的起家部队？？步兵191旅，全集团军上下都感到庆幸。后来替补四十军被裁的则是驻黑龙江的第二十三集团军，这支部队的前身就是粟裕手下的参加过黄桥决战的新四军一师、六师。二十三军虽意外被裁，但基于该军长期以来以雪原、高寒条件训练为主，将来朝鲜有事还用得着，所以除撤编了三四个旅、团，属下的大部分部队都没有动。步兵68旅、步兵69师改归16集团军，其他撤编部队的人员组建或者充实边防团。
[ 转自铁血社区 http://bbs.tiexue.net/ ]
为了保证对驻扎日韩的美国军事基地有足够的远程精确打击能力，二炮810导弹旅、816导弹旅已各有一个发射营换装了2002年才定型的核常兼备的东风15H型中程战略导弹，正在换装的驻胶东822导弹旅被指令提前完成，二炮再调一个巡航导弹
集团军前去接替武警。由于九八年大裁军后，四十军已经撤消了师一级编制，全集团军只有五个旅，其中两个步兵旅，兵力明显不足。于是军委把原来就驻扎在丹东，但编制上归辽宁省军区的步兵第191旅划给了四十军。四十军近三万人迅速从锦州、阜新、赤峰等驻地开进边境一线。
本来2003年的二十万裁军计划中，沈阳军区要再被裁掉一个集团军。在军区交给军委的名单上首选的就是的第四十集团军。因朝鲜危机，四十军不仅有幸逃过了这一劫，而且还增编了邓小平领导百色起义的起家部队？？步兵191旅，全集团军上下都感到庆幸。后来替补四十军被裁的则是驻黑龙江的第二十三集团军，这支部队的前身就是粟裕手下的参加过黄桥决战的新四军一师、六师。二十三军虽意外被裁，但基于该军长期以来以雪原、高寒条件训练为主，将来朝鲜有事还用得着，所以除撤编了三四个旅、团，属下的大部分部队都没有动。步兵68旅、步兵69师改归16集团军，其他撤编部队的人员组建或者充实边防团。
[ 转自铁血社区 http://bbs.tiexue.net/ ]
为了保证对驻扎日韩的美国军事基地有足够的远程精确打击能力，二炮810导弹旅、816导弹旅已各有一个发射营换装了2002年才定型的核常兼备的东风15H型中程战略导弹，正在换装的驻胶东822导弹旅被指令提前完成，二炮再调一个巡航导弹
Rembrandt Painting
Rembrandt Painting
中国为巴基斯坦制造的FJ17战斗机。巴国就在本月已经宣布，将会大批采购大约250架。而这种目前被看做是“亚洲最类似F16战斗机”能力的中国产战斗机，已经严重威胁到了印度的制空能力，因此为了对抗，印度不久前再次不惜重金，向俄罗斯大批引进米格29K进行对抗。
而实际上巴国与中国军事贸易，一半是以现金交易，一半采取中国有偿贷款模式，为巴国提供技术生产。而巴国在负责为这些成品军品，以自己的名义来向西方世界采购更加先进的电子成套设备。由于巴基斯坦与欧洲，特别是法国。以及其与美国关系。因此他出面采购的军事先进技术是不会被列入美国“国际对华禁运”名单。而在其后，巴国将再会反过来把这些技术以所谓“帮助维修”提供给中国。而我们无论从FJ17，还是早期的阿哥斯塔B，到今天护卫舰都显示这些内涵。因此巴基斯坦采购中国军事装备无论是早期的歼7P计划还是后来其他计划，都会使他花最少的钱，办到最大的效果。同时中国也会从中获得了不少自己所需要相关利益。可以说“各取所需”。
但是对比巴基斯坦来说，印度方面它与俄罗斯目前的多次军事交易中，都屡屡不顺。而导致印度耗费了大批的力量。却没有达到自己的效果。且白白消耗了自己的宝贵的外汇资源。而俄罗斯习惯上在军事贸易上，是不太讲求情面的。前期的克里莫夫发动机问题，中国一句简单的承诺，就打消了印度为止连续消耗了大约123亿总合的，军事采购价值。
中国为巴基斯坦制造的FJ17战斗机。巴国就在本月已经宣布，将会大批采购大约250架。而这种目前被看做是“亚洲最类似F16战斗机”能力的中国产战斗机，已经严重威胁到了印度的制空能力，因此为了对抗，印度不久前再次不惜重金，向俄罗斯大批引进米格29K进行对抗。
而实际上巴国与中国军事贸易，一半是以现金交易，一半采取中国有偿贷款模式，为巴国提供技术生产。而巴国在负责为这些成品军品，以自己的名义来向西方世界采购更加先进的电子成套设备。由于巴基斯坦与欧洲，特别是法国。以及其与美国关系。因此他出面采购的军事先进技术是不会被列入美国“国际对华禁运”名单。而在其后，巴国将再会反过来把这些技术以所谓“帮助维修”提供给中国。而我们无论从FJ17，还是早期的阿哥斯塔B，到今天护卫舰都显示这些内涵。因此巴基斯坦采购中国军事装备无论是早期的歼7P计划还是后来其他计划，都会使他花最少的钱，办到最大的效果。同时中国也会从中获得了不少自己所需要相关利益。可以说“各取所需”。
但是对比巴基斯坦来说，印度方面它与俄罗斯目前的多次军事交易中，都屡屡不顺。而导致印度耗费了大批的力量。却没有达到自己的效果。且白白消耗了自己的宝贵的外汇资源。而俄罗斯习惯上在军事贸易上，是不太讲求情面的。前期的克里莫夫发动机问题，中国一句简单的承诺，就打消了印度为止连续消耗了大约123亿总合的，军事采购价值。
Van Gogh Painting
Van Gogh Painting
看看印度一百多种民族语言(某些民族甚至至今不讲印地语,也就是说至今全国没有一种能够沟通联系各民族的语言和文字),几百种宗教(除了三大教外,还有很多土著宗教),有印度特色的民主(只要有自己的想法,哪怕一个人也可以成立政党参加竞选),联系印度那种秉承了几千年的逆来顺受安于现状民族思维,结合今年来印度的虚荣心和好高务远总想一步登天的想法就不难理解了来印度真正做到了美国所宣传的民主啊！！（只要一个人都可以成立政党参加竞选）
为啥他这么民主了还那么穷呢！！印度需要一位伟人，一位毛泽东式的伟人，而后励精图治30年，在未来才有可能成为世界一极。可惜，恒河水不养人啊... ...
以现在的情况发展，印度将永远是个二流国家，是全世界制约中国的一个棋子，然而随着中国的不断强大，西方对印度的投入也会随之加大，但投入越大，控制的力度也就越大，所以印度永远只能做棋子，无法做棋手。
看看印度一百多种民族语言(某些民族甚至至今不讲印地语,也就是说至今全国没有一种能够沟通联系各民族的语言和文字),几百种宗教(除了三大教外,还有很多土著宗教),有印度特色的民主(只要有自己的想法,哪怕一个人也可以成立政党参加竞选),联系印度那种秉承了几千年的逆来顺受安于现状民族思维,结合今年来印度的虚荣心和好高务远总想一步登天的想法就不难理解了来印度真正做到了美国所宣传的民主啊！！（只要一个人都可以成立政党参加竞选）
为啥他这么民主了还那么穷呢！！印度需要一位伟人，一位毛泽东式的伟人，而后励精图治30年，在未来才有可能成为世界一极。可惜，恒河水不养人啊... ...
以现在的情况发展，印度将永远是个二流国家，是全世界制约中国的一个棋子，然而随着中国的不断强大，西方对印度的投入也会随之加大，但投入越大，控制的力度也就越大，所以印度永远只能做棋子，无法做棋手。
风景油画
风景油画
“我明白了，没有发票。”
“根据我们的制度，补交之后你们就可以归国了，少了一千吨的压舱物，应该可以很快回到日本吧。”
咕咚，重物倒地“大山岩阁下，大山岩阁下，军医军医，这里有人晕倒了，快来人呀。”
为了尽快放行，东北海关进行了高效率的工作
“这是50两一锭的通州纹银，九成二。去掉火耗三分计成八成九，就是四十两入账。”
“大人，不能这样算呀，在市面上这算是十足纹银，哪能算为八成纹银入账呢？”
“不同意，那好，兄弟们，把银子先拿一部分回去测试。为了公平起见，你我双方各付一半检测费，如果有问题的话检测费我们全包了。现在马上就回去测试，当然，这批物品数量太多，可能猴年马月才会测完，你最好个你老婆捎个信，叫她过来陪陪你。”
“怎么，这位兄弟不测了，按照八成标准执行了，那怎么行，我们要明察秋毫的吗！怎么跪下了，既然你这样求我，我也不是一个硬心肠的人就勉强答应好了。再则说了，连赵大总统都号召我们要‘对日亲善’，我们作属下的一定要听从他老人家的指示。”
“对了，这位兄弟，你怎么用这种东西称银子呢？这不是小商小贩用的足秤吗？”
“靠，这种东西都用，你知道吗，那是对国内老百姓用的。你怎么这么没有档次呢？现在都讲究高科技，你看看我带的东西，7两秤，最低可以达到7两的标准，而且可以调回来，对待外国人你要用这个。知道超国民待遇是什么意思吗？
就是在交纳税金方面要超过我国国民，吃苦受累拉纳税拉也要全面超越。以后好好领会吧！
当然了享受了这么多超国民待遇，有些待遇低一些是正常的。这个以后再说吧，先把银子全都捞回来，一两也不给日本人留下。这位太君，你没意见吧？”
“我明白了，没有发票。”
“根据我们的制度，补交之后你们就可以归国了，少了一千吨的压舱物，应该可以很快回到日本吧。”
咕咚，重物倒地“大山岩阁下，大山岩阁下，军医军医，这里有人晕倒了，快来人呀。”
为了尽快放行，东北海关进行了高效率的工作
“这是50两一锭的通州纹银，九成二。去掉火耗三分计成八成九，就是四十两入账。”
“大人，不能这样算呀，在市面上这算是十足纹银，哪能算为八成纹银入账呢？”
“不同意，那好，兄弟们，把银子先拿一部分回去测试。为了公平起见，你我双方各付一半检测费，如果有问题的话检测费我们全包了。现在马上就回去测试，当然，这批物品数量太多，可能猴年马月才会测完，你最好个你老婆捎个信，叫她过来陪陪你。”
“怎么，这位兄弟不测了，按照八成标准执行了，那怎么行，我们要明察秋毫的吗！怎么跪下了，既然你这样求我，我也不是一个硬心肠的人就勉强答应好了。再则说了，连赵大总统都号召我们要‘对日亲善’，我们作属下的一定要听从他老人家的指示。”
“对了，这位兄弟，你怎么用这种东西称银子呢？这不是小商小贩用的足秤吗？”
“靠，这种东西都用，你知道吗，那是对国内老百姓用的。你怎么这么没有档次呢？现在都讲究高科技，你看看我带的东西，7两秤，最低可以达到7两的标准，而且可以调回来，对待外国人你要用这个。知道超国民待遇是什么意思吗？
就是在交纳税金方面要超过我国国民，吃苦受累拉纳税拉也要全面超越。以后好好领会吧！
当然了享受了这么多超国民待遇，有些待遇低一些是正常的。这个以后再说吧，先把银子全都捞回来，一两也不给日本人留下。这位太君，你没意见吧？”
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