Monet La Japonaise painting
Monet La Porte D Amount Etretat painting
Monet London Houses of Parliament at Sunset painting
Monet Monet_Self_Portrait_In_His_Atelier painting
back again! Too late. There was no help for Becky now, he said. The next moment the master faced the school. Every eye sank under his gaze. There was that in it which smote even the innocent with fear. There was silence while one might count ten -- the master was gathering his wrath. Then he spoke: "Who tore this book?"
There was not a sound. One could have heard a pin drop. The stillness continued; the master searched face after face for signs of guilt.
"Benjamin Rogers, did you tear this book?"
A denial. Another pause.
"Joseph Harper, did you?"
Another denial. Tom's uneasiness grew more and more intense under the slow torture of these proceedings. The master scanned the ranks of boys -- considered a while, then turned to the girls:
"Amy Lawrence?"
A shake of the head.
"Gracie Miller?"
The same sign.
"Susan Harper, did you do this?"
Another negative. The next girl was Becky Thatcher. Tom was trembling from head to foot with excitement and a sense of the hopelessness of the situation.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Perez senoritaw red hair painting
Perez senoritaw red hair painting
Perez sensual touch in the dark painting
Perez Sensual Touching the Dark painting
Perez serciopelorojo painting
Shut up, Sid! A body does just the same in a dream as he'd do if he was awake. Here's a big Milum apple I've been saving for you, Tom, if you was ever found again -- now go 'long to school. I'm thankful to the good God and Father of us all I've got you back, that's long-suffering and merciful to them that believe on Him and keep His word, though goodness knows I'm unworthy of it, but if only the worthy ones got His blessings and had His hand to help them over the rough places, there's few enough would smile here or ever enter into His rest when the long night comes. Go 'long Sid, Mary, Tom -- take yourselves off -- you've hendered me long enough."
The children left for school, and the old lady to call on Mrs. Harper and vanquish her realism with Tom's marvellous dream. Sid had better judgment than to utter the thought that was in his mind as he left the house. It was this: "Pretty thin -- as long a dream as that, without any mistakes in it!"
What a hero Tom was become, now! He did not go skipping and prancing, but moved with a dignified swagger as became a pirate who felt that the public eye was on him. And indeed
Perez sensual touch in the dark painting
Perez Sensual Touching the Dark painting
Perez serciopelorojo painting
Shut up, Sid! A body does just the same in a dream as he'd do if he was awake. Here's a big Milum apple I've been saving for you, Tom, if you was ever found again -- now go 'long to school. I'm thankful to the good God and Father of us all I've got you back, that's long-suffering and merciful to them that believe on Him and keep His word, though goodness knows I'm unworthy of it, but if only the worthy ones got His blessings and had His hand to help them over the rough places, there's few enough would smile here or ever enter into His rest when the long night comes. Go 'long Sid, Mary, Tom -- take yourselves off -- you've hendered me long enough."
The children left for school, and the old lady to call on Mrs. Harper and vanquish her realism with Tom's marvellous dream. Sid had better judgment than to utter the thought that was in his mind as he left the house. It was this: "Pretty thin -- as long a dream as that, without any mistakes in it!"
What a hero Tom was become, now! He did not go skipping and prancing, but moved with a dignified swagger as became a pirate who felt that the public eye was on him. And indeed
Perez GeishawMirr painting
Perez GeishawMirr painting
Perez Girl with Red Hair painting
Perez Gitana painting
Perez gitanaii painting
and unspeakably appalling. The storm culminated in one matchless effort that seemed likely to tear the island to pieces, burn it up, drown it to the tree-tops, blow it away, and deafen every creature in it, all at one and the same moment. It was a wild night for homeless young heads to be out in.
But at last the battle was done, and the forces retired with weaker and weaker threatenings and grumblings, and peace resumed her sway. The boys went back to camp, a good deal awed; but they found there was still something to be thankful for, because the great sycamore, the shelter of their beds, was a ruin, now, blasted by the lightnings, and they were not under it when the catastrophe happened.
Everything in camp was drenched, the camp-fire as well; for they were but heedless lads, like their generation, and had made no provision against rain. Here was matter for dismay, for they were soaked through and chilled. They were eloquent in their distress; but they presently discovered that the fire had eaten so far up under the great log it had been
Perez Girl with Red Hair painting
Perez Gitana painting
Perez gitanaii painting
and unspeakably appalling. The storm culminated in one matchless effort that seemed likely to tear the island to pieces, burn it up, drown it to the tree-tops, blow it away, and deafen every creature in it, all at one and the same moment. It was a wild night for homeless young heads to be out in.
But at last the battle was done, and the forces retired with weaker and weaker threatenings and grumblings, and peace resumed her sway. The boys went back to camp, a good deal awed; but they found there was still something to be thankful for, because the great sycamore, the shelter of their beds, was a ruin, now, blasted by the lightnings, and they were not under it when the catastrophe happened.
Everything in camp was drenched, the camp-fire as well; for they were but heedless lads, like their generation, and had made no provision against rain. Here was matter for dismay, for they were soaked through and chilled. They were eloquent in their distress; but they presently discovered that the fire had eaten so far up under the great log it had been
Decorative painting
Decorative painting
"I bet there's been pirates on this island before, boys. We'll explore it again. They've hid treasures here somewhere. How'd you feel to light on a rotten chest full of gold and silver -- hey?"
But it roused only faint enthusiasm, which faded out, with no reply. Tom tried one or two other seductions; but they failed, too. It was discouraging work. Joe sat poking up the sand with a stick and looking very gloomy. Finally he said:
"Oh, boys, let's give it up. I want to go home. It's so lonesome."
"Oh no, Joe, you'll feel better by and by," said Tom. "Just think of the fishing that's here."
"I don't care for fishing. I want to go home."
"But, Joe, there ain't such another swimming-place anywhere."
"Swimming's no good. I don't seem to care for it, somehow, when there ain't anybody to say I sha'n't go in. I mean to go home."
-163-
"Oh, shucks! Baby! You want to see your mother, I reckon."
"Yes, I do want to see my mother -- and you would, too, if you had one. I ain't any more baby than you are." And Joe snuffled a little.
"I bet there's been pirates on this island before, boys. We'll explore it again. They've hid treasures here somewhere. How'd you feel to light on a rotten chest full of gold and silver -- hey?"
But it roused only faint enthusiasm, which faded out, with no reply. Tom tried one or two other seductions; but they failed, too. It was discouraging work. Joe sat poking up the sand with a stick and looking very gloomy. Finally he said:
"Oh, boys, let's give it up. I want to go home. It's so lonesome."
"Oh no, Joe, you'll feel better by and by," said Tom. "Just think of the fishing that's here."
"I don't care for fishing. I want to go home."
"But, Joe, there ain't such another swimming-place anywhere."
"Swimming's no good. I don't seem to care for it, somehow, when there ain't anybody to say I sha'n't go in. I mean to go home."
-163-
"Oh, shucks! Baby! You want to see your mother, I reckon."
"Yes, I do want to see my mother -- and you would, too, if you had one. I ain't any more baby than you are." And Joe snuffled a little.
John Singer Sargent paintings
John Singer Sargent paintings
Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres paintings
John William Godward paintings
John William Waterhouse paintings
shore it lay closest to was only separated from it by a narrow channel hardly two hundred yards wide. They took a swim about every hour, so it was close upon the middle of the afternoon when they got back to camp. They were too hungry to stop to fish, but
-148-they fared sumptuously upon cold ham, and then threw themselves down in the shade to talk. But the talk soon began to drag, and then died. The stillness, the solemnity that brooded in the woods, and the sense of loneliness, began to tell upon the spirits of the boys. They fell to thinking. A sort of undefined longing crept upon them. This took dim shape, presently -- it was budding homesickness. Even Finn the Red-Handed was dreaming of his doorsteps and empty hogsheads. But they were all ashamed of their weakness, and none was brave enough to speak his thought.
For some time, now, the boys had been dully conscious of a peculiar sound in the distance, just as one sometimes is of the ticking of a clock which he takes no distinct note of. But
Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres paintings
John William Godward paintings
John William Waterhouse paintings
shore it lay closest to was only separated from it by a narrow channel hardly two hundred yards wide. They took a swim about every hour, so it was close upon the middle of the afternoon when they got back to camp. They were too hungry to stop to fish, but
-148-they fared sumptuously upon cold ham, and then threw themselves down in the shade to talk. But the talk soon began to drag, and then died. The stillness, the solemnity that brooded in the woods, and the sense of loneliness, began to tell upon the spirits of the boys. They fell to thinking. A sort of undefined longing crept upon them. This took dim shape, presently -- it was budding homesickness. Even Finn the Red-Handed was dreaming of his doorsteps and empty hogsheads. But they were all ashamed of their weakness, and none was brave enough to speak his thought.
For some time, now, the boys had been dully conscious of a peculiar sound in the distance, just as one sometimes is of the ticking of a clock which he takes no distinct note of. But
Thursday, May 29, 2008
oil painting for sale
oil painting for sale
Along this walk, on Christmas Day, a tall young man walked slowly, with his hands behind him, and a somewhat absent expression of countenance. He looked like an Italian, was dressed like an Englishman, and had the independent air of an American -- a combination which caused sundry pairs of feminine eyes to look approvingly after him, and sundry dandies in black velvet suits, with rose-colored neckties, buff gloves, and orange flowers in their buttonholes, to shrug their shoulders, and then envy him his inches. There were plenty of pretty faces to admire, but the young man took little notice of them, except to glance now and then at some blonde girl in blue. Presently he strolled out of the promenade and stood a moment at the crossing, as if undecided whether to go and listen to the band in the Jardin Publique, or to wander along the beach toward Castle Hill. The quick trot of ponies feet made him look up, as one of the little carriages, containing a single young lady, came rapidly down the street. The lady was young, blonde, and dressed in blue. He stared a minute, then his whole face woke up, and, waving his hat like a boy, he hurried forward to meet her.
Along this walk, on Christmas Day, a tall young man walked slowly, with his hands behind him, and a somewhat absent expression of countenance. He looked like an Italian, was dressed like an Englishman, and had the independent air of an American -- a combination which caused sundry pairs of feminine eyes to look approvingly after him, and sundry dandies in black velvet suits, with rose-colored neckties, buff gloves, and orange flowers in their buttonholes, to shrug their shoulders, and then envy him his inches. There were plenty of pretty faces to admire, but the young man took little notice of them, except to glance now and then at some blonde girl in blue. Presently he strolled out of the promenade and stood a moment at the crossing, as if undecided whether to go and listen to the band in the Jardin Publique, or to wander along the beach toward Castle Hill. The quick trot of ponies feet made him look up, as one of the little carriages, containing a single young lady, came rapidly down the street. The lady was young, blonde, and dressed in blue. He stared a minute, then his whole face woke up, and, waving his hat like a boy, he hurried forward to meet her.
Joseph Mallord William Turner paintings
Joseph Mallord William Turner paintings
Julien Dupre paintings
Julius LeBlanc Stewart paintings
Jeffrey T.Larson paintings
came to her then more bitterly than ever that Beth was slowly drifting away form her, and her arms instinctively tightened their hold upon the dearest treasure she possessed. For a minute her eyes were too dim for seeing, and when they cleared, Beth was looking up at her so tenderly that there was hardly any need for her to say, "Jo, dear, I'm glad you know it. I've tried to tell you, but I couldn't."
There was no answer except her sister's cheek against her own, not even tears, for when most deeply moved, Jo did not cry. She was the weaker then, and Beth tried to comfort and sustain her, with her arms about her and the soothing words she whispered in her ear.
"I've known it for a good while, dear, and now I'm used to it, it isn't hard to think of or to bear. Try to see it so and don't be troubled about me, because it's best, indeed it is."
Julien Dupre paintings
Julius LeBlanc Stewart paintings
Jeffrey T.Larson paintings
came to her then more bitterly than ever that Beth was slowly drifting away form her, and her arms instinctively tightened their hold upon the dearest treasure she possessed. For a minute her eyes were too dim for seeing, and when they cleared, Beth was looking up at her so tenderly that there was hardly any need for her to say, "Jo, dear, I'm glad you know it. I've tried to tell you, but I couldn't."
There was no answer except her sister's cheek against her own, not even tears, for when most deeply moved, Jo did not cry. She was the weaker then, and Beth tried to comfort and sustain her, with her arms about her and the soothing words she whispered in her ear.
"I've known it for a good while, dear, and now I'm used to it, it isn't hard to think of or to bear. Try to see it so and don't be troubled about me, because it's best, indeed it is."
Renoir Fruits from the Midi painting
Renoir Fruits from the Midi painting
Renoir La Loge painting
Renoir A Girl with a Watering Can painting
Renoir The Large Bathers painting
"What shall I do with him?" sighed Jo, finding that emotions were more unmanagable than she expected. "You haven't heard what I wanted to tell you. Sit down and listen, for indeed I want to do right and make you happy," she said, hoping to soothe him with a little reason, which proved that she knew nothing about love.
Seeing a ray of hope in that last speech, Laurie threw himself down on the grass at her feet, leaned his arm on the lower step of the stile, and looked up at her with an expectant face. Now that arrangement was not conducive to calm speech or clear thought on Jo's part, for how could she say hard things to her boy while he watched her with eyes full of love and longing, and lashes still wet with the bitter drop or two her hardness of heart had wrung from him? She gently turned his head away, saying, as she stroked the wavy hair which had been allowed to grow for her sake -- how touching that was, to be sure!
"I agree with Mother that you and I are not suited to each other, because our quick tempers and strong wills would probably make us very miserable, if we were so foolish as to . . ." Jo paused a little over the last word, but Laurie uttered it with a rapturous expression.
Renoir La Loge painting
Renoir A Girl with a Watering Can painting
Renoir The Large Bathers painting
"What shall I do with him?" sighed Jo, finding that emotions were more unmanagable than she expected. "You haven't heard what I wanted to tell you. Sit down and listen, for indeed I want to do right and make you happy," she said, hoping to soothe him with a little reason, which proved that she knew nothing about love.
Seeing a ray of hope in that last speech, Laurie threw himself down on the grass at her feet, leaned his arm on the lower step of the stile, and looked up at her with an expectant face. Now that arrangement was not conducive to calm speech or clear thought on Jo's part, for how could she say hard things to her boy while he watched her with eyes full of love and longing, and lashes still wet with the bitter drop or two her hardness of heart had wrung from him? She gently turned his head away, saying, as she stroked the wavy hair which had been allowed to grow for her sake -- how touching that was, to be sure!
"I agree with Mother that you and I are not suited to each other, because our quick tempers and strong wills would probably make us very miserable, if we were so foolish as to . . ." Jo paused a little over the last word, but Laurie uttered it with a rapturous expression.
Turner Rome_from_the_Vatican painting
Turner Rome_from_the_Vatican painting
Turner Rome The Colosseum painting
Turner Mortlake Terrace painting
Turner The Chain Pier, Brighton painting
"Yes, come next month. Laurie graduates then, and you'd enjoy commencement as something new."
"That is your best friend, of whom you speak?" he said in an altered tone.
"Yes, my boy Teddy. I'm very proud of him and should like you to see him."
Jo looked up then, quite unconscious of anything but her own pleasure in the prospect of showing them to one another. Something in Mr. Bhaer's face suddenly recalled the fact that she might find Laurie more than a `best friend', and simply because she particularly wished not to look as if anything was the matter, she involuntarily began to blush, and the more she tried not to, the redder she grew. If it had not been for Tina on her knee. She didn't know what would have become of her. Fortunately the child was moved to hug her, so she managed to hide her face an instant, hoping the Professor did not see it. But he did, and his own changed again from that momentary anxiety to its usual expression, as he said cordially . . .
Turner Rome The Colosseum painting
Turner Mortlake Terrace painting
Turner The Chain Pier, Brighton painting
"Yes, come next month. Laurie graduates then, and you'd enjoy commencement as something new."
"That is your best friend, of whom you speak?" he said in an altered tone.
"Yes, my boy Teddy. I'm very proud of him and should like you to see him."
Jo looked up then, quite unconscious of anything but her own pleasure in the prospect of showing them to one another. Something in Mr. Bhaer's face suddenly recalled the fact that she might find Laurie more than a `best friend', and simply because she particularly wished not to look as if anything was the matter, she involuntarily began to blush, and the more she tried not to, the redder she grew. If it had not been for Tina on her knee. She didn't know what would have become of her. Fortunately the child was moved to hug her, so she managed to hide her face an instant, hoping the Professor did not see it. But he did, and his own changed again from that momentary anxiety to its usual expression, as he said cordially . . .
Reni Susanna and the Elders painting
Reni Susanna and the Elders painting
Cassatt The Crochet Lesson painting
Aagard The Rose Garden painting
Aagard Pergola in Amalfi painting
Why everybody liked him was what puzzled Jo, at first. He was neither rich nor great, young nor handsome, in no respect what is called fascinating, imposing, or brilliant, and yet he was as attractive as a genial fire, and people seemed to gather about him as naturally as about a warm hearth. He was poor, yet always appeared to be giving something away; a stranger, yet everyone was his friend; no longer young, but as happy-hearted as a boy; plain and peculiar, yet his face looked beautiful to many, and his oddities were freely forgiven for his sake. Jo often watched him, trying to discover the charm, and at last decided that it was benevolence which worked the miracle. If he had any sorrow, `it sat with its head under its wing', and he turned only his sunny side to the world. There were lines upon his forehead, but Time seemed to have touched him gently, remembering how kind he was to others. The pleasant curves about his mouth were the memorials of many friendly words and cheery laughs, his eyes were never cold or hard, and his big hand had a warm, strong grasp that was more expressive than words.
Cassatt The Crochet Lesson painting
Aagard The Rose Garden painting
Aagard Pergola in Amalfi painting
Why everybody liked him was what puzzled Jo, at first. He was neither rich nor great, young nor handsome, in no respect what is called fascinating, imposing, or brilliant, and yet he was as attractive as a genial fire, and people seemed to gather about him as naturally as about a warm hearth. He was poor, yet always appeared to be giving something away; a stranger, yet everyone was his friend; no longer young, but as happy-hearted as a boy; plain and peculiar, yet his face looked beautiful to many, and his oddities were freely forgiven for his sake. Jo often watched him, trying to discover the charm, and at last decided that it was benevolence which worked the miracle. If he had any sorrow, `it sat with its head under its wing', and he turned only his sunny side to the world. There were lines upon his forehead, but Time seemed to have touched him gently, remembering how kind he was to others. The pleasant curves about his mouth were the memorials of many friendly words and cheery laughs, his eyes were never cold or hard, and his big hand had a warm, strong grasp that was more expressive than words.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Mark Rothko paintings
Mark Rothko paintings
Montague Dawson paintings
Mary Cassatt paintings
Maxfield Parrish paintings
sorts, and was just imagining himself tossing on the ocean in a voyage round the world, when the sound of voices brought him ashore in a flash. Peeping through the meshes of the hammock, he saw the Marches coming out, as if bound on some expedition.
"What in the world are those girls about now?" thought Laurie, opening his sleepy eyes to take a good look, for there was something rather peculiar in the appearance of his neighbors. Each wore a large, flapping hat, a brown linen pouch slung over one shoulder, and carried a long staff. Meg had a cushion, Jo a book, Beth a basket, and Amy a portfolio. All walked quietly through the garden, out at the little back gate, and began to climb the hill that lay between the house and river.
"Well, that's cool," said Laurie to himself, "to have a picnic and never ask me! They can't be going in the boat, for they haven't got the key. Perhaps they forgot it. I'll take it to them, and see what's going on."
Montague Dawson paintings
Mary Cassatt paintings
Maxfield Parrish paintings
sorts, and was just imagining himself tossing on the ocean in a voyage round the world, when the sound of voices brought him ashore in a flash. Peeping through the meshes of the hammock, he saw the Marches coming out, as if bound on some expedition.
"What in the world are those girls about now?" thought Laurie, opening his sleepy eyes to take a good look, for there was something rather peculiar in the appearance of his neighbors. Each wore a large, flapping hat, a brown linen pouch slung over one shoulder, and carried a long staff. Meg had a cushion, Jo a book, Beth a basket, and Amy a portfolio. All walked quietly through the garden, out at the little back gate, and began to climb the hill that lay between the house and river.
"Well, that's cool," said Laurie to himself, "to have a picnic and never ask me! They can't be going in the boat, for they haven't got the key. Perhaps they forgot it. I'll take it to them, and see what's going on."
Edmund Blair Leighton paintings
Edmund Blair Leighton paintings
Eugene de Blaas paintings
Eduard Manet paintings
Edwin Austin Abbey paintings
"Oh, gracious! What shall I say?" cried Sallie, as Fred ended his rigmarole, in which he had jumbled together pell-mell nautical phrases and facts out of one of his favorite books. "Well, they went to the bottom, and a nice mermaid welcomed them, but was much grieved on finding the box of headless knights, and kindly pickled them in brine, hoping to discover the mystery about them, for being a woman, she was curious. By-and-by a diver came down, and the mermaid said, `I'll give you a box of pearls if you can take it up,' for she wanted to restore the poor things to life, and couldn't raise the heavy load herself. So the diver hoisted it up, and was much disappointed on opening it to find no pearls. He left it in a great lonely field, where it was found by a . . ."
"Little goose girl, who kept a hundred fat geese in the field," said Amy, when Sallie's invention gave out. "The little girl was sorry for them, and asked an old woman what she should do to help them. `Your geese will tell you, they know everything.' said the old woman. So she asked what she should use for new heads, since the old ones were lost, and all the geese opened their hundred mouths and screamed . . ."
Eugene de Blaas paintings
Eduard Manet paintings
Edwin Austin Abbey paintings
"Oh, gracious! What shall I say?" cried Sallie, as Fred ended his rigmarole, in which he had jumbled together pell-mell nautical phrases and facts out of one of his favorite books. "Well, they went to the bottom, and a nice mermaid welcomed them, but was much grieved on finding the box of headless knights, and kindly pickled them in brine, hoping to discover the mystery about them, for being a woman, she was curious. By-and-by a diver came down, and the mermaid said, `I'll give you a box of pearls if you can take it up,' for she wanted to restore the poor things to life, and couldn't raise the heavy load herself. So the diver hoisted it up, and was much disappointed on opening it to find no pearls. He left it in a great lonely field, where it was found by a . . ."
"Little goose girl, who kept a hundred fat geese in the field," said Amy, when Sallie's invention gave out. "The little girl was sorry for them, and asked an old woman what she should do to help them. `Your geese will tell you, they know everything.' said the old woman. So she asked what she should use for new heads, since the old ones were lost, and all the geese opened their hundred mouths and screamed . . ."
mark rothko paintings
mark rothko paintings
Old Master Oil Paintings
Nude Oil Paintings
dropship oil paintings
stake and declared himself out with much exultation. She went off to get her ball, and was a long time finding it among the bushes, but she came back, looking cool and quiet, and waited her turn patiently. It took several strokes to regain the place she had lost, and when she got there, the other side had nearly won, for Kate's ball was the last but one and lay near the stake.
"By George, it's all up with us! Goodbye, Kate. Miss Jo owes me one, so you are finished," cried Fred excitedly, as they all drew near to see the finish.
"Yankees have a trick of being generous to their enemies," said Jo, with a look that made the lad redden, "especially when they beat them," she added, as, leaving Kate's ball untouched, she won the game by a clever stroke.
Laurie threw up his hat, then remembered that it wouldn't do to exult over the defeat of his guests, and stopped in the middle of the cheer to whisper to his friend, "Good for you, Jo! He did cheat, I saw him. We can't tell him so, but he won't do it again, take my word for it."
Old Master Oil Paintings
Nude Oil Paintings
dropship oil paintings
stake and declared himself out with much exultation. She went off to get her ball, and was a long time finding it among the bushes, but she came back, looking cool and quiet, and waited her turn patiently. It took several strokes to regain the place she had lost, and when she got there, the other side had nearly won, for Kate's ball was the last but one and lay near the stake.
"By George, it's all up with us! Goodbye, Kate. Miss Jo owes me one, so you are finished," cried Fred excitedly, as they all drew near to see the finish.
"Yankees have a trick of being generous to their enemies," said Jo, with a look that made the lad redden, "especially when they beat them," she added, as, leaving Kate's ball untouched, she won the game by a clever stroke.
Laurie threw up his hat, then remembered that it wouldn't do to exult over the defeat of his guests, and stopped in the middle of the cheer to whisper to his friend, "Good for you, Jo! He did cheat, I saw him. We can't tell him so, but he won't do it again, take my word for it."
Famous painting
Famous painting
"It has seemed shorter than usual, but so uncomfortable," said Meg.
"Not a bit like home," added Amy.
"It can't seem so without Marmee and little Pip," sighed Beth, glancing with full eyes at the empty cage above her head.
"Here's Mother, dear, and you shall have another bird tomorrow, if you want it."
As she spoke, Mrs. March came and took her place among them, looking as if her holiday had not been much pleasanter than theirs.
"Are you satisfied with your experiment, girls, or do you want another week of it?" she asked, as Beth nestled up to her and the rest turned toward her with brightening faces, as flowers turn toward the sun.
"I don't!" cried Jo decidedly.
"Nor I," echoed the others.
"You think then, that it is better to have a few duties and live a little for others, do you?"
"Lounging and larking doesn't pay," observed Jo, shaking her head. "I'm tired of it and mean to go to work at something right off."
"It has seemed shorter than usual, but so uncomfortable," said Meg.
"Not a bit like home," added Amy.
"It can't seem so without Marmee and little Pip," sighed Beth, glancing with full eyes at the empty cage above her head.
"Here's Mother, dear, and you shall have another bird tomorrow, if you want it."
As she spoke, Mrs. March came and took her place among them, looking as if her holiday had not been much pleasanter than theirs.
"Are you satisfied with your experiment, girls, or do you want another week of it?" she asked, as Beth nestled up to her and the rest turned toward her with brightening faces, as flowers turn toward the sun.
"I don't!" cried Jo decidedly.
"Nor I," echoed the others.
"You think then, that it is better to have a few duties and live a little for others, do you?"
"Lounging and larking doesn't pay," observed Jo, shaking her head. "I'm tired of it and mean to go to work at something right off."
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Claude Lorrain paintings
Claude Lorrain paintings
Claude Monet paintings
Charles Chaplin paintings
Peter gave a contrite nod of the head, as one who knew all about it, for grandmamma had described his own feelings exactly.
"And you calculated wrongly also in another way," continued grandmamma, "for you see the harm you intended has turned out for the best for those you wished to hurt. As Clara had no chair to go in and yet wanted so much to see the flowers, she made the effort to walk, and every day since she has been walking better and better, and if she remains up here she will in time be able to go up the mountain every day, much oftener than she would have done in her chair. So you see, Peter, God is able to bring good out of evil for those whom you meant to injure, and you who did the evil were left to suffer the unhappy consequences of it. Do you thoroughly understand all I have said to you, Peter? If so, do not forget my words, and whenever you feel inclined to do anything
-342-wrong, think of the little watchman inside you with his goad and his disagreeable voice. Will you remember all this?"
Claude Monet paintings
Charles Chaplin paintings
Peter gave a contrite nod of the head, as one who knew all about it, for grandmamma had described his own feelings exactly.
"And you calculated wrongly also in another way," continued grandmamma, "for you see the harm you intended has turned out for the best for those you wished to hurt. As Clara had no chair to go in and yet wanted so much to see the flowers, she made the effort to walk, and every day since she has been walking better and better, and if she remains up here she will in time be able to go up the mountain every day, much oftener than she would have done in her chair. So you see, Peter, God is able to bring good out of evil for those whom you meant to injure, and you who did the evil were left to suffer the unhappy consequences of it. Do you thoroughly understand all I have said to you, Peter? If so, do not forget my words, and whenever you feel inclined to do anything
-342-wrong, think of the little watchman inside you with his goad and his disagreeable voice. Will you remember all this?"
Aubrey Beardsley paintings
Aubrey Beardsley paintings
Andrea del Sarto paintings
Alexandre Cabanel paintings
son an affectionate kiss as she spoke. "But now," she went on, "you must come and pay your respects to Uncle, who is our chief benefactor."
"Yes, indeed, and with the little inmate of our own house, our little Heidi, too," said Herr Sesemann, shaking Heidi by the hand. "Well? are you still well and happy in your mountain home? but I need not ask, no Alpine rose could look more blooming. I am glad, child, it is a pleasure to me to see you so."
And Heidi looked up with equal pleasure into Herr Sesemann's kind face. How good he had always been to her! And that he should find such happiness awaiting him up here on the mountain made her heart beat with gladness.
Grandmamma now led her son to introduce him to Uncle, and while the two men were shaking hands and Herr Sesemann was expressing his heartfelt thanks and boundless astonishment to the old man, grandmamma, wandered round to the back to see the old fir trees again.
Andrea del Sarto paintings
Alexandre Cabanel paintings
son an affectionate kiss as she spoke. "But now," she went on, "you must come and pay your respects to Uncle, who is our chief benefactor."
"Yes, indeed, and with the little inmate of our own house, our little Heidi, too," said Herr Sesemann, shaking Heidi by the hand. "Well? are you still well and happy in your mountain home? but I need not ask, no Alpine rose could look more blooming. I am glad, child, it is a pleasure to me to see you so."
And Heidi looked up with equal pleasure into Herr Sesemann's kind face. How good he had always been to her! And that he should find such happiness awaiting him up here on the mountain made her heart beat with gladness.
Grandmamma now led her son to introduce him to Uncle, and while the two men were shaking hands and Herr Sesemann was expressing his heartfelt thanks and boundless astonishment to the old man, grandmamma, wandered round to the back to see the old fir trees again.
Lorenzo Lotto paintings
Lorenzo Lotto paintings
Louis Aston Knight paintings
Leon Bazile Perrault paintings
Leon-Augustin L'hermitte paintings
up in bed, "we ought certainly to thank God to-night that you can walk now, and that He has made us so happy."
"Yes, Heidi, I am sure you are right, and I am glad you reminded me; I almost forgot my prayers for very joy."
Both children said their prayers, and each thanked God in her own way for the blessing He had bestowed on Clara, who had for so long lain weak and ill.
The next morning the grandfather suggested that they should now write to the grandmamma and ask her if she would not come and pay them a visit, as they had something new to show her. But the children had another plan in their heads, for they wanted to prepare a great surprise for grandmamma. Clara was first to have more practice in walking so that she might be able to go a little way by herself; above all things grandmamma was not to have a hint of it. They asked the grandfather how long he thought this would take, and when he told them about a week or less, they immediately sat down and wrote a pressing invitation to grandmamma, asking her to come soon, but no word was said about there being anything new to see
Louis Aston Knight paintings
Leon Bazile Perrault paintings
Leon-Augustin L'hermitte paintings
up in bed, "we ought certainly to thank God to-night that you can walk now, and that He has made us so happy."
"Yes, Heidi, I am sure you are right, and I am glad you reminded me; I almost forgot my prayers for very joy."
Both children said their prayers, and each thanked God in her own way for the blessing He had bestowed on Clara, who had for so long lain weak and ill.
The next morning the grandfather suggested that they should now write to the grandmamma and ask her if she would not come and pay them a visit, as they had something new to show her. But the children had another plan in their heads, for they wanted to prepare a great surprise for grandmamma. Clara was first to have more practice in walking so that she might be able to go a little way by herself; above all things grandmamma was not to have a hint of it. They asked the grandfather how long he thought this would take, and when he told them about a week or less, they immediately sat down and wrote a pressing invitation to grandmamma, asking her to come soon, but no word was said about there being anything new to see
Aubrey Beardsley paintings
Aubrey Beardsley paintings
Andrea del Sarto paintings
Alexandre Cabanel paintings
Anders Zorn paintings
Everything as usual, Sebastian?" asked the doctor in his pleasant voice as he preceded Sebastian up the stairs.
"I am glad you have come, doctor," exclaimed Herr Sesemann as the latter entered. "We must
-218-really have another talk over this Swiss journey; do you still adhere to your decision, even though Clara is decidedly improving in health?"
"My dear Sesemann, I never knew such a man as you!" said the doctor as he sat down beside his friend. "I really wish your mother was here; everything would be clear and straightforward then and she would soon put things in right train. You sent for me three times yesterday only to ask me the same question, though you know what I think."
"Yes, I know, it's enough to make you out of patience with me; but you must understand, dear friend" -- and Herr Sesemann laid his hand imploringly on the doctor's shoulder -- "that
Andrea del Sarto paintings
Alexandre Cabanel paintings
Anders Zorn paintings
Everything as usual, Sebastian?" asked the doctor in his pleasant voice as he preceded Sebastian up the stairs.
"I am glad you have come, doctor," exclaimed Herr Sesemann as the latter entered. "We must
-218-really have another talk over this Swiss journey; do you still adhere to your decision, even though Clara is decidedly improving in health?"
"My dear Sesemann, I never knew such a man as you!" said the doctor as he sat down beside his friend. "I really wish your mother was here; everything would be clear and straightforward then and she would soon put things in right train. You sent for me three times yesterday only to ask me the same question, though you know what I think."
"Yes, I know, it's enough to make you out of patience with me; but you must understand, dear friend" -- and Herr Sesemann laid his hand imploringly on the doctor's shoulder -- "that
Monday, May 26, 2008
Jules Breton paintings
Jules Breton paintings
Johannes Vermeer paintings
Jacques-Louis David paintings
John Everett Millais paintings
And the old woman kept on repeating the glad words, while Heidi beamed with happiness, and she could not take her eyes away from the grandmother's face, which had never looked like that before. It had no longer the old troubled expression, but was alight with peace and joy as if she were already looking with clear new eyes into the garden or Paradise.
Some one now knocked at the window and Heidi looked up and saw her grandfather beckoning her to come home with him. She promised the grandmother before leaving her that she would be with her the next day, and even if she went out with Peter she would only spend half the day with him, for the thought that she might make it light and happy again for the grandmother gave her the greatest pleasure,
-205-greater even than being out on the sunny mountain with the flowers and goats. As she was going out Brigitta ran to her with the frock and hat she had left. Heidi put the dress over her arm, for, as she thought to herself, the grandfather had seen that before, but she obstinately refused to take back the hat; Brigitta could keep it, for she should never put it on her head
Johannes Vermeer paintings
Jacques-Louis David paintings
John Everett Millais paintings
And the old woman kept on repeating the glad words, while Heidi beamed with happiness, and she could not take her eyes away from the grandmother's face, which had never looked like that before. It had no longer the old troubled expression, but was alight with peace and joy as if she were already looking with clear new eyes into the garden or Paradise.
Some one now knocked at the window and Heidi looked up and saw her grandfather beckoning her to come home with him. She promised the grandmother before leaving her that she would be with her the next day, and even if she went out with Peter she would only spend half the day with him, for the thought that she might make it light and happy again for the grandmother gave her the greatest pleasure,
-205-greater even than being out on the sunny mountain with the flowers and goats. As she was going out Brigitta ran to her with the frock and hat she had left. Heidi put the dress over her arm, for, as she thought to herself, the grandfather had seen that before, but she obstinately refused to take back the hat; Brigitta could keep it, for she should never put it on her head
Filippino Lippi paintings
Filippino Lippi paintings
Francisco de Zurbaran paintings
Gustav Klimt paintings
Georgia O'Keeffe paintings
Heidi called out, "Good-evening, Peter," and then ran in among the goats. "Little Swan! Little Bear! do you know me again?" And the animals evidently recognized her voice at once, for they began rubbing their heads against her and bleating loudly as if for joy, and as she called the other goats by name one after the other, they all came scampering towards her helter-skelter and crowding round her. The impatient Greenfinch sprang into the air and over two of her companions in order to get nearer, and even the shy little Snowflake butted the Great Turk out of her way in quite a determined manner, which left him standing taken aback by her boldness, and lifting his beard in the air as much as to say, You see who I am.
Heidi was out of her mind with delight at being among all her old friends again; she flung her arms round the pretty little Snowflake, stroked the obstreperous Greenfinch, while she herself was thrust at from all sides by the affectionate and confiding goats; and so at last she got near to where Peter was still standing, not having yet got over his surprise.
"Come down, Peter," cried Heidi, "and say good-evening to me."
Francisco de Zurbaran paintings
Gustav Klimt paintings
Georgia O'Keeffe paintings
Heidi called out, "Good-evening, Peter," and then ran in among the goats. "Little Swan! Little Bear! do you know me again?" And the animals evidently recognized her voice at once, for they began rubbing their heads against her and bleating loudly as if for joy, and as she called the other goats by name one after the other, they all came scampering towards her helter-skelter and crowding round her. The impatient Greenfinch sprang into the air and over two of her companions in order to get nearer, and even the shy little Snowflake butted the Great Turk out of her way in quite a determined manner, which left him standing taken aback by her boldness, and lifting his beard in the air as much as to say, You see who I am.
Heidi was out of her mind with delight at being among all her old friends again; she flung her arms round the pretty little Snowflake, stroked the obstreperous Greenfinch, while she herself was thrust at from all sides by the affectionate and confiding goats; and so at last she got near to where Peter was still standing, not having yet got over his surprise.
"Come down, Peter," cried Heidi, "and say good-evening to me."
Old Master Oil Paintings
Old Master Oil Paintings
Nude Oil Paintings
dropship oil paintings
Mediterranean paintings
"All the roads about here are safe," was the curt reply.
So Sebastian altered his question and asked which was the best way to avoid falling over the precipice, and also how a box could be conveyed to Dörfli. The man looked at the box, weighing it with his eye, and then volunteered if it was not too heavy to take it on his own cart, as he was driving to Dörfli. After some little interchange of words it was finally agreed that the man should take both the child and the box to Dörfli, and there find some one who could be sent on with Heidi up the mountain.
"I can go by myself, I know the way well from Dörfli," put in Heidi, who had been listening attentively to the conversation. Sebastian was greatly relieved at not having to do any mountain climbing. He drew Heidi aside and gave her a thick rolled parcel, and a letter for her grandfather; the parcel, he told her, was a present from Herr Sesemann, and she must put it at the bottom of her basket under the rolls and be very careful not to lose it, as Herr Sesemann would be very vexed if she did, and never be the same to her again; so little miss was to think well of what he said.
Nude Oil Paintings
dropship oil paintings
Mediterranean paintings
"All the roads about here are safe," was the curt reply.
So Sebastian altered his question and asked which was the best way to avoid falling over the precipice, and also how a box could be conveyed to Dörfli. The man looked at the box, weighing it with his eye, and then volunteered if it was not too heavy to take it on his own cart, as he was driving to Dörfli. After some little interchange of words it was finally agreed that the man should take both the child and the box to Dörfli, and there find some one who could be sent on with Heidi up the mountain.
"I can go by myself, I know the way well from Dörfli," put in Heidi, who had been listening attentively to the conversation. Sebastian was greatly relieved at not having to do any mountain climbing. He drew Heidi aside and gave her a thick rolled parcel, and a letter for her grandfather; the parcel, he told her, was a present from Herr Sesemann, and she must put it at the bottom of her basket under the rolls and be very careful not to lose it, as Herr Sesemann would be very vexed if she did, and never be the same to her again; so little miss was to think well of what he said.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
William Merritt Chase paintings
William Merritt Chase paintings
William Blake paintings
Winslow Homer paintings
William Bouguereau paintings
When morning came, they started again. Before they had gone far they heard a low rumble, as of the growling of many wild animals. Toto whimpered a little, but none of the others was frightened, and they kept along the well-trodden path until they came to an opening in the wood, in which were gathered hundreds of beasts of every variety. There were tigers and elephants and bears and wolves and foxes and all the others in the natural history, and for a moment Dorothy was afraid. But the Lion explained that the animals were holding a meeting, and he judged by their snarling and growling that they were in great trouble.
As he spoke several of the beasts caught sight of him, and at once the great assemblage hushed as if by magic. The biggest of the tigers came up to the Lion and bowed, saying:
"Welcome, O King of Beasts! You have come in good time to fight our enemy and bring peace to all the animals of the forest once more."
William Blake paintings
Winslow Homer paintings
William Bouguereau paintings
When morning came, they started again. Before they had gone far they heard a low rumble, as of the growling of many wild animals. Toto whimpered a little, but none of the others was frightened, and they kept along the well-trodden path until they came to an opening in the wood, in which were gathered hundreds of beasts of every variety. There were tigers and elephants and bears and wolves and foxes and all the others in the natural history, and for a moment Dorothy was afraid. But the Lion explained that the animals were holding a meeting, and he judged by their snarling and growling that they were in great trouble.
As he spoke several of the beasts caught sight of him, and at once the great assemblage hushed as if by magic. The biggest of the tigers came up to the Lion and bowed, saying:
"Welcome, O King of Beasts! You have come in good time to fight our enemy and bring peace to all the animals of the forest once more."
Jean-Paul Laurens paintings
Jean-Paul Laurens paintings
Jules Breton paintings
Johannes Vermeer paintings
Jacques-Louis David paintings
So the Scarecrow climbed farther up and sat down on the top of the wall, and Dorothy put her head over and cried, "Oh, my!" just as the Scarecrow had done.
Then Toto came up, and immediately began to bark, but Dorothy made him be still.
The Lion climbed the ladder next, and the Tin Woodman came last; but both of them cried, "Oh, my!" as soon as they looked over the wall. When they were all sitting in a row on the top of the wall, they looked down and saw a strange sight.
Before them was a great stretch of country having a floor as smooth and shining and white as the bottom of a big platter. Scattered around were many houses made entirely of china and painted in the brightest colors. These houses were quite small, the biggest of them reaching only as high as Dorothy's waist. There were also pretty little barns, with china fences around them; and many cows and sheep and horses and pigs and chickens, all made of china, were standing about in groups.
Jules Breton paintings
Johannes Vermeer paintings
Jacques-Louis David paintings
So the Scarecrow climbed farther up and sat down on the top of the wall, and Dorothy put her head over and cried, "Oh, my!" just as the Scarecrow had done.
Then Toto came up, and immediately began to bark, but Dorothy made him be still.
The Lion climbed the ladder next, and the Tin Woodman came last; but both of them cried, "Oh, my!" as soon as they looked over the wall. When they were all sitting in a row on the top of the wall, they looked down and saw a strange sight.
Before them was a great stretch of country having a floor as smooth and shining and white as the bottom of a big platter. Scattered around were many houses made entirely of china and painted in the brightest colors. These houses were quite small, the biggest of them reaching only as high as Dorothy's waist. There were also pretty little barns, with china fences around them; and many cows and sheep and horses and pigs and chickens, all made of china, were standing about in groups.
Joan Miro paintings
Joan Miro paintings
Jean-Honore Fragonard paintings
Jehan Georges Vibert paintings
Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot paintings
"Glinda is a Good Witch, isn't she?" asked the child.
"The Quadlings think she is good," said the soldier, "and she is kind to everyone. I have heard that Glinda is a beautiful woman, who knows how to keep young in spite of the many years she has lived."
"How can I get to her castle?" asked Dorothy.
"The road is straight to the South," he answered, "but it is said to be full of dangers to travelers. There are wild beasts in the woods, and a race of queer men who do not like strangers to cross their country. For this reason none of the Quadlings ever come to the Emerald City."
The soldier them left them and the Scarecrow said:
"It seems, in spite of dangers, that the best thing Dorothy can do is to travel to the Land of the South and ask Glinda to help her. For, of course, if Dorothy stays here she will never get back to Kansas."
"You must have been thinking again," remarked the Tin Woodman.
Jean-Honore Fragonard paintings
Jehan Georges Vibert paintings
Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot paintings
"Glinda is a Good Witch, isn't she?" asked the child.
"The Quadlings think she is good," said the soldier, "and she is kind to everyone. I have heard that Glinda is a beautiful woman, who knows how to keep young in spite of the many years she has lived."
"How can I get to her castle?" asked Dorothy.
"The road is straight to the South," he answered, "but it is said to be full of dangers to travelers. There are wild beasts in the woods, and a race of queer men who do not like strangers to cross their country. For this reason none of the Quadlings ever come to the Emerald City."
The soldier them left them and the Scarecrow said:
"It seems, in spite of dangers, that the best thing Dorothy can do is to travel to the Land of the South and ask Glinda to help her. For, of course, if Dorothy stays here she will never get back to Kansas."
"You must have been thinking again," remarked the Tin Woodman.
Titian paintings
Titian paintings
Theodore Chasseriau paintings
Ted Seth Jacobs paintings
Vincent van Gogh paintings
But how about the voice?" she inquired.
"Oh, I am a ventriloquist," said the little man. "I can throw the sound of my voice wherever I wish, so that you thought it was coming out of the Head. Here are the other things I used to deceive you." He showed the Scarecrow the dress and the mask he had worn when he seemed to be the lovely Lady. And the Tin Woodman saw that his terrible Beast was nothing but a lot of skins, sewn together, with slats to keep their sides out. As for the Ball of Fire, the false Wizard had hung that also from the ceiling. It was really a ball of cotton, but when oil was poured upon it the ball burned fiercely.
"Really," said the Scarecrow, "you ought to be ashamed of yourself for being such a humbug."
"I am -- I certainly am," answered the little man sorrowfully; "but it was the only thing I could do. Sit down, please, there are plenty of chairs; and I will tell you my story."
So they sat down and listened while he told the following tale.
Theodore Chasseriau paintings
Ted Seth Jacobs paintings
Vincent van Gogh paintings
But how about the voice?" she inquired.
"Oh, I am a ventriloquist," said the little man. "I can throw the sound of my voice wherever I wish, so that you thought it was coming out of the Head. Here are the other things I used to deceive you." He showed the Scarecrow the dress and the mask he had worn when he seemed to be the lovely Lady. And the Tin Woodman saw that his terrible Beast was nothing but a lot of skins, sewn together, with slats to keep their sides out. As for the Ball of Fire, the false Wizard had hung that also from the ceiling. It was really a ball of cotton, but when oil was poured upon it the ball burned fiercely.
"Really," said the Scarecrow, "you ought to be ashamed of yourself for being such a humbug."
"I am -- I certainly am," answered the little man sorrowfully; "but it was the only thing I could do. Sit down, please, there are plenty of chairs; and I will tell you my story."
So they sat down and listened while he told the following tale.
Joan Miro paintings
Joan Miro paintings
Jean-Honore Fragonard paintings
Jehan Georges Vibert paintings
Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot paintings
as the band of Winged Monkeys flew up to them.
The King bowed low before Dorothy, and asked, "What is your command?"
"We wish to go to the Emerald City," said the child, "and we have lost our way."
"We will carry you," replied the King, and no sooner had he spoken than two of the Monkeys caught Dorothy in their arms and flew away with her. Others took the Scarecrow and the Woodman and the Lion, and one little Monkey seized Toto and flew after them, although the dog tried hard to bite him.
The Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman were rather frightened at first, for they remembered how badly the Winged Monkeys had treated them before; but they saw that no harm was intended, so they rode through the air quite cheerfully, and had a fine time looking at the pretty gardens and woods far below them.
Jean-Honore Fragonard paintings
Jehan Georges Vibert paintings
Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot paintings
as the band of Winged Monkeys flew up to them.
The King bowed low before Dorothy, and asked, "What is your command?"
"We wish to go to the Emerald City," said the child, "and we have lost our way."
"We will carry you," replied the King, and no sooner had he spoken than two of the Monkeys caught Dorothy in their arms and flew away with her. Others took the Scarecrow and the Woodman and the Lion, and one little Monkey seized Toto and flew after them, although the dog tried hard to bite him.
The Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman were rather frightened at first, for they remembered how badly the Winged Monkeys had treated them before; but they saw that no harm was intended, so they rode through the air quite cheerfully, and had a fine time looking at the pretty gardens and woods far below them.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Anne-Francois-Louis Janmot paintings
Anne-Francois-Louis Janmot paintings
Allan R.Banks paintings
Andrea Mantegna paintings
Arthur Hughes paintings
"Oh! He's a curious animal and seems remarkably small, now that I look at him. No one would think of biting such a little thing, except a coward like me," continued the Lion sadly.
"What makes you a coward?" asked Dorothy, looking at the great beast in wonder, for he was as big as a small horse.
"It's a mystery," replied the Lion. "I suppose I was born that way. All the other animals in the forest naturally expect me to be brave, for the Lion is everywhere thought to be the King of Beasts. I learned that if I roared very loudly every living thing was frightened and got out of my way. Whenever I've met a man I've been awfully scared; but I just roared at him, and he has always run away as fast as he could go. If the elephants and the tigers and the bears had ever tried to fight me, I should have run myself -- I'm such a coward; but just as soon as they hear me roar they all try to get away from me, and of course I let them go."
"But that isn't right. The King of Beasts shouldn't be a coward," said the Scarecrow.
Allan R.Banks paintings
Andrea Mantegna paintings
Arthur Hughes paintings
"Oh! He's a curious animal and seems remarkably small, now that I look at him. No one would think of biting such a little thing, except a coward like me," continued the Lion sadly.
"What makes you a coward?" asked Dorothy, looking at the great beast in wonder, for he was as big as a small horse.
"It's a mystery," replied the Lion. "I suppose I was born that way. All the other animals in the forest naturally expect me to be brave, for the Lion is everywhere thought to be the King of Beasts. I learned that if I roared very loudly every living thing was frightened and got out of my way. Whenever I've met a man I've been awfully scared; but I just roared at him, and he has always run away as fast as he could go. If the elephants and the tigers and the bears had ever tried to fight me, I should have run myself -- I'm such a coward; but just as soon as they hear me roar they all try to get away from me, and of course I let them go."
"But that isn't right. The King of Beasts shouldn't be a coward," said the Scarecrow.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Lorenzo Lotto paintings
Lorenzo Lotto paintings
Louis Aston Knight paintings
Leon Bazile Perrault paintings
Leon-Augustin L'hermitte paintings
"Right, my king! right!" cried Tom Canty; "now the scepter of England is thine own; and it were better for him that would dispute it that he had been born dumb! Go, my Lord St. John, give thy feet wings!"
The whole assemblage was on its feet now, and well-nigh out of its mind with uneasiness, apprehension, and consuming excitement. On the floor and on the platform a deafening buzz of frantic conversation burst forth, and for some time nobody knew anything or heard anything or was interested in anything but what his neighbor was shouting into his ear, or he was shouting into his neighbor's ear. Time-nobody knew how much of it-swept by unheeded and unnoted. At last a sudden hush fell upon the house, and in the same moment St. John appeared upon the platform and held the Great Seal aloft in his hand. Then such a shout went up!
"Long live the true king!"
For five minutes the air quaked with shouts and the crash of musical instruments, and was white with a storm of waving handkerchiefs; and through it all a ragged lad, the most
Louis Aston Knight paintings
Leon Bazile Perrault paintings
Leon-Augustin L'hermitte paintings
"Right, my king! right!" cried Tom Canty; "now the scepter of England is thine own; and it were better for him that would dispute it that he had been born dumb! Go, my Lord St. John, give thy feet wings!"
The whole assemblage was on its feet now, and well-nigh out of its mind with uneasiness, apprehension, and consuming excitement. On the floor and on the platform a deafening buzz of frantic conversation burst forth, and for some time nobody knew anything or heard anything or was interested in anything but what his neighbor was shouting into his ear, or he was shouting into his neighbor's ear. Time-nobody knew how much of it-swept by unheeded and unnoted. At last a sudden hush fell upon the house, and in the same moment St. John appeared upon the platform and held the Great Seal aloft in his hand. Then such a shout went up!
"Long live the true king!"
For five minutes the air quaked with shouts and the crash of musical instruments, and was white with a storm of waving handkerchiefs; and through it all a ragged lad, the most
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Famous painting
Famous painting
All attempts to make the king serviceable to the troop had failed. He had stubbornly refused to act; moreover, he was always trying to escape. He had been thrust into an unwatched kitchen, the first day of his return; he not only came forth empty-handed, but tried to rouse the housemates. He was sent out with a tinker to help him at his work; he would not work; moreover, he threatened the tinker with his own soldering-iron; and finally both Hugo and the tinker found their hands full with the mere matter of keeping him from getting away. He delivered the thunders of his royalty upon the heads of all who hampered his liberties or tried to force him to service. He was sent out, in Hugo's charge, in company with a slatternly woman and a diseased baby, to beg; but the result was not encouraging-he declined to plead for the mendicants, or be a party to their cause in any way.
Thus several days went by; and the miseries of this tramping life, and the weariness and sordidness and meanness and vulgarity of it, became gradually and steadily so intolerable to the captive that he began at last to feel that his release from the hermit's knife must prove only a temporary respite from death, at best.
All attempts to make the king serviceable to the troop had failed. He had stubbornly refused to act; moreover, he was always trying to escape. He had been thrust into an unwatched kitchen, the first day of his return; he not only came forth empty-handed, but tried to rouse the housemates. He was sent out with a tinker to help him at his work; he would not work; moreover, he threatened the tinker with his own soldering-iron; and finally both Hugo and the tinker found their hands full with the mere matter of keeping him from getting away. He delivered the thunders of his royalty upon the heads of all who hampered his liberties or tried to force him to service. He was sent out, in Hugo's charge, in company with a slatternly woman and a diseased baby, to beg; but the result was not encouraging-he declined to plead for the mendicants, or be a party to their cause in any way.
Thus several days went by; and the miseries of this tramping life, and the weariness and sordidness and meanness and vulgarity of it, became gradually and steadily so intolerable to the captive that he began at last to feel that his release from the hermit's knife must prove only a temporary respite from death, at best.
Mary Cassatt paintings
Mary Cassatt paintings
Maxfield Parrish paintings
Martin Johnson Heade paintings
Nancy O'Toole paintings
After a considerable time-he could not tell how long-his senses struggled to a half-consciousness, and as he lay with closed eyes vaguely wondering where he was and what had been happening, he noted a murmurous sound, the sullen beating of rain upon the roof. A snug sense of comfort stole over him, which was rudely broken, the next moment, by a chorus of piping cackles and coarse laughter. It startled him disagreeably, and he unmuffled his head to see whence this interruption proceeded. A grim and unsightly picture met his eye. A bright fire was burning in the middle of the floor, at the other end of the barn; and around it, and lit weirdly up by the red glare, lolled and sprawled the motliest company of tattered gutter-scum and ruffians, of both sexes, he had ever read or dreamed of. There were huge, stalwart men, brown with exposure, long-haired, and clothed in fantastic rags; there were middle-sized youths, of truculent countenance, and similarly clad; there were blind medicants, with patched or bandaged eyes; crippled ones, with wooden legs and crutches; there was a villain-looking peddler with his pack; a knife-grinder, a tinker, and a barber-surgeon, with the implements of their trades; some of the females were hardly grown girls, some were at prime, some were old and wrinkled hags, and all were loud, brazen, foul-mouthed; and all soiled and slatternly; there were three sore-faced babies; there were a couple of starveling curs, with strings around their necks, whose office was to lead the blind.
Maxfield Parrish paintings
Martin Johnson Heade paintings
Nancy O'Toole paintings
After a considerable time-he could not tell how long-his senses struggled to a half-consciousness, and as he lay with closed eyes vaguely wondering where he was and what had been happening, he noted a murmurous sound, the sullen beating of rain upon the roof. A snug sense of comfort stole over him, which was rudely broken, the next moment, by a chorus of piping cackles and coarse laughter. It startled him disagreeably, and he unmuffled his head to see whence this interruption proceeded. A grim and unsightly picture met his eye. A bright fire was burning in the middle of the floor, at the other end of the barn; and around it, and lit weirdly up by the red glare, lolled and sprawled the motliest company of tattered gutter-scum and ruffians, of both sexes, he had ever read or dreamed of. There were huge, stalwart men, brown with exposure, long-haired, and clothed in fantastic rags; there were middle-sized youths, of truculent countenance, and similarly clad; there were blind medicants, with patched or bandaged eyes; crippled ones, with wooden legs and crutches; there was a villain-looking peddler with his pack; a knife-grinder, a tinker, and a barber-surgeon, with the implements of their trades; some of the females were hardly grown girls, some were at prime, some were old and wrinkled hags, and all were loud, brazen, foul-mouthed; and all soiled and slatternly; there were three sore-faced babies; there were a couple of starveling curs, with strings around their necks, whose office was to lead the blind.
Leonardo da Vinci paintings
Leonardo da Vinci paintings
Lord Frederick Leighton paintings
Mark Rothko paintings
Montague Dawson paintings
Now, then, speak. Where is thy mother? Where are thy sisters? They came not to the place appointed-knowest thou whither they went?"
The king answered, sullenly:
"Trouble me not with these riddles. My mother is dead; my sisters are in the palace." The youth near by burst into a derisive laugh, and the king would have assaulted him, but Canty-or Hobbs, as he now called himself-prevented him, and said:
"Peace, Hugo, vex him not; his mind is astray, and thy ways fret him. Sit thee down, Jack, and quiet thyself; thou shalt have a morsel to eat, anon."
Hobbs and Hugo fell to talking together, in low voices, and the king removed himself as far as he could from their disagreeable company. He withdrew into the twilight of the farther end of the barn, where he found the earthen floor bedded a foot deep with straw. He lay down here, drew straw over himself in lieu of blankets, and was soon absorbed in thinking.He had many griefs, but the minor ones were swept almost into forgetfulness by the supreme one, the loss of his father. To the rest of the world the name of Henry VIII brought a shiver, and suggested an ogre whose nostrils breathed destruction and whose hand dealt scourgings and death; but to this boy the name brought only sensations of pleasure, the figure it invoked wore a countenance that was all gentleness and affection. He called to mind a long succession of loving passages between his father and himself, and dwelt fondly upon them, his unstinted tears attesting how deep and real was the grief that possessed his heart. As the afternoon wasted away, the lad, wearied with his troubles, sunk gradually into a tranquil and healing slumber.
Lord Frederick Leighton paintings
Mark Rothko paintings
Montague Dawson paintings
Now, then, speak. Where is thy mother? Where are thy sisters? They came not to the place appointed-knowest thou whither they went?"
The king answered, sullenly:
"Trouble me not with these riddles. My mother is dead; my sisters are in the palace." The youth near by burst into a derisive laugh, and the king would have assaulted him, but Canty-or Hobbs, as he now called himself-prevented him, and said:
"Peace, Hugo, vex him not; his mind is astray, and thy ways fret him. Sit thee down, Jack, and quiet thyself; thou shalt have a morsel to eat, anon."
Hobbs and Hugo fell to talking together, in low voices, and the king removed himself as far as he could from their disagreeable company. He withdrew into the twilight of the farther end of the barn, where he found the earthen floor bedded a foot deep with straw. He lay down here, drew straw over himself in lieu of blankets, and was soon absorbed in thinking.He had many griefs, but the minor ones were swept almost into forgetfulness by the supreme one, the loss of his father. To the rest of the world the name of Henry VIII brought a shiver, and suggested an ogre whose nostrils breathed destruction and whose hand dealt scourgings and death; but to this boy the name brought only sensations of pleasure, the figure it invoked wore a countenance that was all gentleness and affection. He called to mind a long succession of loving passages between his father and himself, and dwelt fondly upon them, his unstinted tears attesting how deep and real was the grief that possessed his heart. As the afternoon wasted away, the lad, wearied with his troubles, sunk gradually into a tranquil and healing slumber.
Leon Bazile Perrault paintings
Leon Bazile Perrault paintings
Leon-Augustin L'hermitte paintings
Lady Laura Teresa Alma-Tadema paintings
Louise Abbema paintings
A mocking laugh was his answer. The king was in a rage in a moment; he seized a billet of wood and was in the act of charging upon the youth when another mocking laugh fell upon his ear. It was from the lame ruffian, who had been following at a distance. The king turned and said angrily:
"Who art thou? What is thy business here?"
"Leave thy foolery," said the man, "and quiet thyself. My disguise is none so good that thou canst pretend thou knowest not thy father through it."
"Thou art not my father. I know thee not. I am the king. If thou hast hid my servant, find him for me, or thou shalt sup sorrow for what thou hast done."
John Canty replied, in a stern and measured voice:
"It is plain thou art mad, and I am loath to punish thee; but if thou provoke me, I must. Thy prating doth no harm here, where there are no ears that need to mind thy follies, yet is it well to practise thy tongue to wary speech, that it may do no hurt when our quarters change. I have done a murder, and may not tarry at home-neither shalt thou, seeing I need thy service. My name is changed, for wise reasons; it is Hobbs-John Hobbs; thine is Jack-charge thy memory accordingly.
Leon-Augustin L'hermitte paintings
Lady Laura Teresa Alma-Tadema paintings
Louise Abbema paintings
A mocking laugh was his answer. The king was in a rage in a moment; he seized a billet of wood and was in the act of charging upon the youth when another mocking laugh fell upon his ear. It was from the lame ruffian, who had been following at a distance. The king turned and said angrily:
"Who art thou? What is thy business here?"
"Leave thy foolery," said the man, "and quiet thyself. My disguise is none so good that thou canst pretend thou knowest not thy father through it."
"Thou art not my father. I know thee not. I am the king. If thou hast hid my servant, find him for me, or thou shalt sup sorrow for what thou hast done."
John Canty replied, in a stern and measured voice:
"It is plain thou art mad, and I am loath to punish thee; but if thou provoke me, I must. Thy prating doth no harm here, where there are no ears that need to mind thy follies, yet is it well to practise thy tongue to wary speech, that it may do no hurt when our quarters change. I have done a murder, and may not tarry at home-neither shalt thou, seeing I need thy service. My name is changed, for wise reasons; it is Hobbs-John Hobbs; thine is Jack-charge thy memory accordingly.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Winslow Homer paintings
Winslow Homer paintings
William Bouguereau paintings
Edward hopper paintings
Mary Cassatt paintings
Poor Tom was listening, as well as his dazed faculties would let him, to the beginning of this speech; but when the words "me the good king" fell upon his ear, his face blanched, and he dropped as instantly upon his knees as if a shot had brought him there. Lifting up his hands, he exclaimed:
"Thou the King? Then am I undone indeed!"
This speech seemed to stun the king. His eyes wandered from face to face aimlessly, then rested, bewildered, upon the boy before him. Then he said in a tone of deep disappointment:
"Alack, I had believed the rumor disproportioned to the truth; but I fear me "tis not so." He breathed a heavy sigh, and said in a gentle voice, "Come to thy father, child; thou art not well."
Tom was assisted to his feet, and approached the Majesty of England, humble and trembling. The king took the frightened face between his hands, and gazed earnestly and lovingly into it awhile, as if seeking some grateful sign of returning reason there, then pressed the curly head against his breast, and patted it tenderly. Presently he said:
William Bouguereau paintings
Edward hopper paintings
Mary Cassatt paintings
Poor Tom was listening, as well as his dazed faculties would let him, to the beginning of this speech; but when the words "me the good king" fell upon his ear, his face blanched, and he dropped as instantly upon his knees as if a shot had brought him there. Lifting up his hands, he exclaimed:
"Thou the King? Then am I undone indeed!"
This speech seemed to stun the king. His eyes wandered from face to face aimlessly, then rested, bewildered, upon the boy before him. Then he said in a tone of deep disappointment:
"Alack, I had believed the rumor disproportioned to the truth; but I fear me "tis not so." He breathed a heavy sigh, and said in a gentle voice, "Come to thy father, child; thou art not well."
Tom was assisted to his feet, and approached the Majesty of England, humble and trembling. The king took the frightened face between his hands, and gazed earnestly and lovingly into it awhile, as if seeking some grateful sign of returning reason there, then pressed the curly head against his breast, and patted it tenderly. Presently he said:
Emile Munier paintings
Emile Munier paintings
Edwin Lord Weeks paintings
Fabian Perez paintings
Francois Boucher paintings
it's anything quite so unlikely as that - not myself I don't." He hesitated. "There's some of us" - he lowered his voice-" that hopes he'll betake himself off - The Avenger, I mean - to another big city, to Manchester or to Edinburgh. There'd be plenty of work for him to do there," and Chandler chuckled at his own grim joke.
And then, to both men's secret relief, for Bunting was now mortally afraid of this discussion concerning The Avenger and his doings, they heard Mrs. Bunting's key in the lock.
Daisy blushed rosy-red with pleasure when she saw that young Chandler was still there. She had feared that when they got home he would be gone, the more so that Ellen, just as if she was doing it on purpose, had lingered aggravatingly long over each small purchase.
"Here's Joe come to ask if he can take Daisy out for a walk," blurted out Bunting.
"My mother says as how she'd like you to come to tea, over at Richmond," said Chandler awkwardly, "I just come in to see whether we could fix it up, Miss Daisy." And Daisy looked imploringly at her stepmother.
"D'you mean now - this minute?" asked Mrs. Bunting tartly.
Edwin Lord Weeks paintings
Fabian Perez paintings
Francois Boucher paintings
it's anything quite so unlikely as that - not myself I don't." He hesitated. "There's some of us" - he lowered his voice-" that hopes he'll betake himself off - The Avenger, I mean - to another big city, to Manchester or to Edinburgh. There'd be plenty of work for him to do there," and Chandler chuckled at his own grim joke.
And then, to both men's secret relief, for Bunting was now mortally afraid of this discussion concerning The Avenger and his doings, they heard Mrs. Bunting's key in the lock.
Daisy blushed rosy-red with pleasure when she saw that young Chandler was still there. She had feared that when they got home he would be gone, the more so that Ellen, just as if she was doing it on purpose, had lingered aggravatingly long over each small purchase.
"Here's Joe come to ask if he can take Daisy out for a walk," blurted out Bunting.
"My mother says as how she'd like you to come to tea, over at Richmond," said Chandler awkwardly, "I just come in to see whether we could fix it up, Miss Daisy." And Daisy looked imploringly at her stepmother.
"D'you mean now - this minute?" asked Mrs. Bunting tartly.
Eduard Manet paintings
Eduard Manet paintings
Edwin Austin Abbey paintings
Edward Hopper paintings
Edgar Degas paintings
quite a wrong tack, though I knows that some of our fellows - big pots, too - are quite sure that the fellow what gave the girl the sovereign is the man we're looking for. You see, Mr. Bunting, if that's the fact - well, it stands to reason the fellow's an escaped lunatic; and if he's an escaped lunatic he's got a keeper, and they'd be raising a hue and cry after him; now, wouldn't they?"
"You don't think," went on Bunting, lowering his voice, "that he could be just staying somewhere, lodging like?"
" D'you mean that The Avenger may be a toff, staying in some West-end hotel, Mr. Bunting? Well, things almost as funny as that 'ud be have come to pass." He smiled as if the notion was a funny one.
"Yes, something o' that sort," muttered Bunting.
"Well, if your idea's correct, Mr.- Bunting - "
"I never said 'twas my idea," said Bunting, all in a hurry.
"Well, if that idea's correct then, 'twill make our task more difficult than ever. Why, 'twould be looking for a needle in a field of hay, Mr. Bunting! But there! I don't think
Edwin Austin Abbey paintings
Edward Hopper paintings
Edgar Degas paintings
quite a wrong tack, though I knows that some of our fellows - big pots, too - are quite sure that the fellow what gave the girl the sovereign is the man we're looking for. You see, Mr. Bunting, if that's the fact - well, it stands to reason the fellow's an escaped lunatic; and if he's an escaped lunatic he's got a keeper, and they'd be raising a hue and cry after him; now, wouldn't they?"
"You don't think," went on Bunting, lowering his voice, "that he could be just staying somewhere, lodging like?"
" D'you mean that The Avenger may be a toff, staying in some West-end hotel, Mr. Bunting? Well, things almost as funny as that 'ud be have come to pass." He smiled as if the notion was a funny one.
"Yes, something o' that sort," muttered Bunting.
"Well, if your idea's correct, Mr.- Bunting - "
"I never said 'twas my idea," said Bunting, all in a hurry.
"Well, if that idea's correct then, 'twill make our task more difficult than ever. Why, 'twould be looking for a needle in a field of hay, Mr. Bunting! But there! I don't think
Dante Gabriel Rossetti paintings
Dante Gabriel Rossetti paintings Daniel Ridgway Knight paintings
Edmund Blair Leighton paintings
Eugene de Blaas paintings
Aye - that's about the figure of it." Chandler's voice had also changed; it was now sombre, menacing. "We're fair tired of it - beginning to wonder when it'll end, that we are!"
"Do you ever try and make to yourself a picture of what the master's like?" asked Bunting. Somehow, he felt he must ask that.
"Yes," said Joe slowly. "I've a sort of notion - a savage, fierce-looking devil, the chap must be. It's that description that was circulated put us wrong. I don't believe it was the man that knocked up against that woman in the fog - no, not one bit I don't. But I wavers, I can't quite make up my mind. Sometimes I think it's a sailor - the foreigner they talks about, that goes away for eight or nine days in between, to Holland maybe, or to France. Then, again, I says to myself that it's a butcher, a man from the Central Market. Whoever it is, it's someone used to killing, that's flat."
"Then it don't seem to you possible - ?" (Bunting got up and walked over to the window.) "You don't take any stock, I suppose, in that idea some of the papers put out, that the man is" - then he hesitated and brought out, with a gasp - "a gentleman?"
Chandler looked at him, surprised. "No," he said deliberately. "I've made up my mind that's
Edmund Blair Leighton paintings
Eugene de Blaas paintings
Aye - that's about the figure of it." Chandler's voice had also changed; it was now sombre, menacing. "We're fair tired of it - beginning to wonder when it'll end, that we are!"
"Do you ever try and make to yourself a picture of what the master's like?" asked Bunting. Somehow, he felt he must ask that.
"Yes," said Joe slowly. "I've a sort of notion - a savage, fierce-looking devil, the chap must be. It's that description that was circulated put us wrong. I don't believe it was the man that knocked up against that woman in the fog - no, not one bit I don't. But I wavers, I can't quite make up my mind. Sometimes I think it's a sailor - the foreigner they talks about, that goes away for eight or nine days in between, to Holland maybe, or to France. Then, again, I says to myself that it's a butcher, a man from the Central Market. Whoever it is, it's someone used to killing, that's flat."
"Then it don't seem to you possible - ?" (Bunting got up and walked over to the window.) "You don't take any stock, I suppose, in that idea some of the papers put out, that the man is" - then he hesitated and brought out, with a gasp - "a gentleman?"
Chandler looked at him, surprised. "No," he said deliberately. "I've made up my mind that's
Diego Rivera paintings
Diego Rivera paintings
Don Li-Leger paintings
David Hardy paintings
Dirck Bouts paintings
His mind had wandered off, away from Daisy and this nice young chap, to his now constant anxious preoccupation. "You come along to-morrow," he said, "and I'll see you gets your walk with Daisy. It's only right you and she should have a chance of seeing one another without old folk being by; else how's the girl to tell whether she likes you or not! For the matter of that, you hardly knows her, Joe - " He looked at the young man consideringly.
Chandler shook his head impatiently. "I knows her quite as well as I wants to know her," he said. "I made up my mind the very first time I see'd her, Mr. Bunting."
"No! Did you really?" said Bunting. "Well, come to think of it, I did so with her mother; aye, and years after, with Ellen, too. But I hope you'll never want no second, Chandler,"
"God forbid!" said the young man under his breath. And then he asked, rather longingly, "D'you think they'll be out long now, Mr. Bunting?"
And Bunting woke up to a due sense of hospitality. "Sit down, sit down; do!" he said hastily. "I don't believe they'll be very long. They've only got a little bit of shopping to do."
And then, in a changed, in a ringing, nervous tone, he asked, "And how about your job, Joe? Nothing new, I take it? I suppose you're all just waiting for the next time?"
Don Li-Leger paintings
David Hardy paintings
Dirck Bouts paintings
His mind had wandered off, away from Daisy and this nice young chap, to his now constant anxious preoccupation. "You come along to-morrow," he said, "and I'll see you gets your walk with Daisy. It's only right you and she should have a chance of seeing one another without old folk being by; else how's the girl to tell whether she likes you or not! For the matter of that, you hardly knows her, Joe - " He looked at the young man consideringly.
Chandler shook his head impatiently. "I knows her quite as well as I wants to know her," he said. "I made up my mind the very first time I see'd her, Mr. Bunting."
"No! Did you really?" said Bunting. "Well, come to think of it, I did so with her mother; aye, and years after, with Ellen, too. But I hope you'll never want no second, Chandler,"
"God forbid!" said the young man under his breath. And then he asked, rather longingly, "D'you think they'll be out long now, Mr. Bunting?"
And Bunting woke up to a due sense of hospitality. "Sit down, sit down; do!" he said hastily. "I don't believe they'll be very long. They've only got a little bit of shopping to do."
And then, in a changed, in a ringing, nervous tone, he asked, "And how about your job, Joe? Nothing new, I take it? I suppose you're all just waiting for the next time?"
Art Painting
Art Painting
was a very cold night - so cold, so windy, so snow-laden was the atmosphere, that everyone who could do so stayed indoors.
Bunting, however, was now on his way home from what had proved a really pleasant job. A remarkable piece of luck had come his way this evening, all the more welcome because it was quite unexpected! The young lady at whose birthday party he had been present in capacity of waiter had come into a fortune that day, and she had had the gracious, the surprising thought of presenting each of the hired waiters with a sovereign!
This gift, which had been accompanied by a few kind words, had gone to Bunting's heart. It had confirmed him in his Conservative principles; only gentlefolk ever behaved in that way; quiet, old-fashioned, respectable, gentlefolk, the sort of people of whom those nasty Radicals know nothing and care less!
But the ex-butler was not as happy as he should have been. Slackening his footsteps, he began to think with puzzled concern of how queer his wife had seemed lately. Ellen
was a very cold night - so cold, so windy, so snow-laden was the atmosphere, that everyone who could do so stayed indoors.
Bunting, however, was now on his way home from what had proved a really pleasant job. A remarkable piece of luck had come his way this evening, all the more welcome because it was quite unexpected! The young lady at whose birthday party he had been present in capacity of waiter had come into a fortune that day, and she had had the gracious, the surprising thought of presenting each of the hired waiters with a sovereign!
This gift, which had been accompanied by a few kind words, had gone to Bunting's heart. It had confirmed him in his Conservative principles; only gentlefolk ever behaved in that way; quiet, old-fashioned, respectable, gentlefolk, the sort of people of whom those nasty Radicals know nothing and care less!
But the ex-butler was not as happy as he should have been. Slackening his footsteps, he began to think with puzzled concern of how queer his wife had seemed lately. Ellen
Sunday, May 18, 2008
oil painting for sale
oil painting for sale
One woman, whom all the people round her believed to be a kind, respectable soul, had poisoned no fewer than fifteen people in order to get their insurance money. Then there had been the terrible tale of an apparently respectable, contented innkeeper and his wife, who, living at the entrance to a wood, killed all those humble travellers who took shelter under their roof, simply for their clothes, and any valuables they possessed. But in all those stories the murderer or murderers always had a very strong motive, the motive being, in almost every case, a wicked lust for gold.
At last, after having passed her handkerchief over her forehead, she went into the room where Bunting was sitting smoking his pipe.
"The fog's lifting a bit," she said in an ill-assured voice. I hope that by this time Daisy and that Joe Chandler are right out of it."
But the other shook his head silently. "No such luck!" he said briefly. "You don't know what it's like in Hyde Park, Ellen. I expect 'twill soon be just as heavy here as 'twas half an hour ago!"
One woman, whom all the people round her believed to be a kind, respectable soul, had poisoned no fewer than fifteen people in order to get their insurance money. Then there had been the terrible tale of an apparently respectable, contented innkeeper and his wife, who, living at the entrance to a wood, killed all those humble travellers who took shelter under their roof, simply for their clothes, and any valuables they possessed. But in all those stories the murderer or murderers always had a very strong motive, the motive being, in almost every case, a wicked lust for gold.
At last, after having passed her handkerchief over her forehead, she went into the room where Bunting was sitting smoking his pipe.
"The fog's lifting a bit," she said in an ill-assured voice. I hope that by this time Daisy and that Joe Chandler are right out of it."
But the other shook his head silently. "No such luck!" he said briefly. "You don't know what it's like in Hyde Park, Ellen. I expect 'twill soon be just as heavy here as 'twas half an hour ago!"
painting in oil
painting in oil
What had made him alter all of a sudden - if, that is, he had altered? That was what Mrs. Bunting was always debating fitfully with herself; and, what was more, and very terribly, to the point, having altered, why should he not in time go back to what he evidently had been - that is, a blameless, quiet gentleman?
If only he would! If only he would!
As she stood in the hall, cooling her hot forehead, all these thoughts, these hopes and fears, jostled at lightning speed through her brain.
She remembered what young Chandler had said the other day - that there had never been, in the history of the world, so strange a murderer as The Avenger had proved himself to be.
She and Bunting, aye, and little Daisy too, had hung, fascinated, on Joe's words, as he had told them of other famous series of murders which had taken place in the past, not only in England but abroad - especially abroad.
What had made him alter all of a sudden - if, that is, he had altered? That was what Mrs. Bunting was always debating fitfully with herself; and, what was more, and very terribly, to the point, having altered, why should he not in time go back to what he evidently had been - that is, a blameless, quiet gentleman?
If only he would! If only he would!
As she stood in the hall, cooling her hot forehead, all these thoughts, these hopes and fears, jostled at lightning speed through her brain.
She remembered what young Chandler had said the other day - that there had never been, in the history of the world, so strange a murderer as The Avenger had proved himself to be.
She and Bunting, aye, and little Daisy too, had hung, fascinated, on Joe's words, as he had told them of other famous series of murders which had taken place in the past, not only in England but abroad - especially abroad.
monet painting
monet painting
She wandered over to the window, and pulled the curtain back. "Quite a lot of people have come out, anyway," she observed.
"There's a fine Christmas show in the Edgware Road. I was thinking of asking if you wouldn't like to go along there with me."
"No," she said dully. "I'm quite content to stay at home."
She was listening - listening for the sounds which would betoken that the lodger was coming downstairs.
At last she heard the cautious, stuffless tread of his rubber-soled shoes shuffling along the hall. But Bunting only woke to the fact when the front door shut to.
"That's never Mr. Sleuth going out?" He turned on his wife, startled. "Why, the poor gentleman'll come to harm - that he will! One has to be wide awake on an evening like this. I hope he hasn't taken any of his money out with him."
"'Tisn't the first time Mr. Sleuth's been out in a fog," said Mrs. Bunting sombrely
She wandered over to the window, and pulled the curtain back. "Quite a lot of people have come out, anyway," she observed.
"There's a fine Christmas show in the Edgware Road. I was thinking of asking if you wouldn't like to go along there with me."
"No," she said dully. "I'm quite content to stay at home."
She was listening - listening for the sounds which would betoken that the lodger was coming downstairs.
At last she heard the cautious, stuffless tread of his rubber-soled shoes shuffling along the hall. But Bunting only woke to the fact when the front door shut to.
"That's never Mr. Sleuth going out?" He turned on his wife, startled. "Why, the poor gentleman'll come to harm - that he will! One has to be wide awake on an evening like this. I hope he hasn't taken any of his money out with him."
"'Tisn't the first time Mr. Sleuth's been out in a fog," said Mrs. Bunting sombrely
Thursday, May 15, 2008
abstract acrylic painting
abstract acrylic painting
'perpetrators'? I mean that first bit you read out."
"Yes," he said, turning to her eagerly.
"Then do they think there's more than one of them?" she said, and a look of relief came over her thin face.
"There's some of our chaps thinks it's a gang," said Chandler. "They say it can't be the work of one man."
"What do you think, Joe?"
"Well, Mrs. Bunting, I don't know what to think. I'm fair puzzled."
He got up. "Don't you come to the door. I'll shut it all right. So long! See you to-morrow, perhaps." As he had done the other evening, Mr. and Mrs. Bunting's visitor stopped at the door. "Any news of Miss Daisy?" he asked casually.
"Yes; she's coming to-morrow," said her father. "They've got scarlet fever at her place. So Old Aunt thinks she'd better clear out."
'perpetrators'? I mean that first bit you read out."
"Yes," he said, turning to her eagerly.
"Then do they think there's more than one of them?" she said, and a look of relief came over her thin face.
"There's some of our chaps thinks it's a gang," said Chandler. "They say it can't be the work of one man."
"What do you think, Joe?"
"Well, Mrs. Bunting, I don't know what to think. I'm fair puzzled."
He got up. "Don't you come to the door. I'll shut it all right. So long! See you to-morrow, perhaps." As he had done the other evening, Mr. and Mrs. Bunting's visitor stopped at the door. "Any news of Miss Daisy?" he asked casually.
"Yes; she's coming to-morrow," said her father. "They've got scarlet fever at her place. So Old Aunt thinks she'd better clear out."
wall art painting
wall art painting
fantasy art painting
western art painting
realism art painting
What d'you think of that? That's not a pleasant thing for a gentleman as is doing his best to read, eh?"
"Well, it does seem queer that the police can't catch him, now doesn't it?" said Bunting argumentatively.
"I don't think it's queer at all," said young Chandler crossly. "Now you just listen again! Here's a bit of the truth for once - in a newspaper." And slowly he read out:
"'The detection of crime in London now resembles a game of blind man's buff, in which the detective has his hands tied and his eyes bandaged. Thus is he turned loose to hunt the murderer through the slums of a great city."'
"Whatever does that mean?" said Bunting. "Your hands aren't tied, and your eyes aren't bandaged, Joe?"
"It's metaphorical-like that it's intended, Mr. Bunting. We haven't got the same facilities - no, not a quarter of them - that the French 'tecs have."
And then, for the first time, Mrs. Bunting spoke: "What was that word, Joe -
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What d'you think of that? That's not a pleasant thing for a gentleman as is doing his best to read, eh?"
"Well, it does seem queer that the police can't catch him, now doesn't it?" said Bunting argumentatively.
"I don't think it's queer at all," said young Chandler crossly. "Now you just listen again! Here's a bit of the truth for once - in a newspaper." And slowly he read out:
"'The detection of crime in London now resembles a game of blind man's buff, in which the detective has his hands tied and his eyes bandaged. Thus is he turned loose to hunt the murderer through the slums of a great city."'
"Whatever does that mean?" said Bunting. "Your hands aren't tied, and your eyes aren't bandaged, Joe?"
"It's metaphorical-like that it's intended, Mr. Bunting. We haven't got the same facilities - no, not a quarter of them - that the French 'tecs have."
And then, for the first time, Mrs. Bunting spoke: "What was that word, Joe -
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Bunting shook his head. "I don't know," he said helplessly.
"I mean extra," suggested Chandler, in an encouraging voice."
"A thousand?" ventured Bunting.
"Five thousand, Mr. Bunting.
"Never!" exclaimed Bunting, amazed.
And even Mrs. Bunting echoed "Never!" incredulously.
"Yes, that there will. You see, the Boss has got his monkey up!" Chandler drew a folded-up newspaper out of his coat pocket. "Just listen to this:
"'The police have reluctantly to admit that they have no clue to the perpetrators of these horrible crimes, and we cannot feel any surprise at the information that a popular attack has been organised on the Chief Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police. There is even talk of an indignation mass meeting.'
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Bunting shook his head. "I don't know," he said helplessly.
"I mean extra," suggested Chandler, in an encouraging voice."
"A thousand?" ventured Bunting.
"Five thousand, Mr. Bunting.
"Never!" exclaimed Bunting, amazed.
And even Mrs. Bunting echoed "Never!" incredulously.
"Yes, that there will. You see, the Boss has got his monkey up!" Chandler drew a folded-up newspaper out of his coat pocket. "Just listen to this:
"'The police have reluctantly to admit that they have no clue to the perpetrators of these horrible crimes, and we cannot feel any surprise at the information that a popular attack has been organised on the Chief Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police. There is even talk of an indignation mass meeting.'
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After she had done his bedroom the landlady went into the sitting-room and gave it a good dusting. This room was not kept quite as nice as she would have liked it to be. Mrs. Bunting longed to give the drawing-room something of a good turn out; but Mr. Sleuth disliked her to be moving about in it when he himself was in his bedroom; and when up he sat there almost all the time. Delighted as he had seemed to be with the top room, he only used it when making his mysterious experiments, and never during the day-time.
And now, this afternoon, she looked at the rosewood chiffonnier with longing eyes - she even gave that pretty little piece of furniture a slight shake. If only the doors would fly open, as the locked doors of old cupboards sometimes do, even after they have been securely fastened, how pleased she would be, how much more comfortable somehow she would feel!
But the chiffonnier refused to give up its secret.
******
About eight o'clock on that same evening Joe Chandler came in, just for a few minutes'
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After she had done his bedroom the landlady went into the sitting-room and gave it a good dusting. This room was not kept quite as nice as she would have liked it to be. Mrs. Bunting longed to give the drawing-room something of a good turn out; but Mr. Sleuth disliked her to be moving about in it when he himself was in his bedroom; and when up he sat there almost all the time. Delighted as he had seemed to be with the top room, he only used it when making his mysterious experiments, and never during the day-time.
And now, this afternoon, she looked at the rosewood chiffonnier with longing eyes - she even gave that pretty little piece of furniture a slight shake. If only the doors would fly open, as the locked doors of old cupboards sometimes do, even after they have been securely fastened, how pleased she would be, how much more comfortable somehow she would feel!
But the chiffonnier refused to give up its secret.
******
About eight o'clock on that same evening Joe Chandler came in, just for a few minutes'
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
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Very well!" said the President, "we will question him. But we must proceed in order."
The Advocate-General rose:
"It would, perhaps, be better," he said, "if the young man were to tell us now whom he suspects."
The President nodded ironically:
"If the Advocate-General attaches importance to the deposition of Monsieur Joseph Rouletabille, I see no reason why this witness should not give us the name of the murderer."
A pin drop could have been heard. Rouletabille stood silent looking sympathetically at Darzac, who, for the first time since the opening of the trial, showed himself agitated.
"Well," cried the President, "we wait for the name of the murderer." Rouletabille, feeling in his waistcoat pocket, drew his watch and, looking at it, said:
"Monsieur President, I cannot name the murderer before half-past six o'clock!"
Loud murmurs of disappointment filled the room. Some of the lawyers were heard to say: "He's making fun of us!"
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Very well!" said the President, "we will question him. But we must proceed in order."
The Advocate-General rose:
"It would, perhaps, be better," he said, "if the young man were to tell us now whom he suspects."
The President nodded ironically:
"If the Advocate-General attaches importance to the deposition of Monsieur Joseph Rouletabille, I see no reason why this witness should not give us the name of the murderer."
A pin drop could have been heard. Rouletabille stood silent looking sympathetically at Darzac, who, for the first time since the opening of the trial, showed himself agitated.
"Well," cried the President, "we wait for the name of the murderer." Rouletabille, feeling in his waistcoat pocket, drew his watch and, looking at it, said:
"Monsieur President, I cannot name the murderer before half-past six o'clock!"
Loud murmurs of disappointment filled the room. Some of the lawyers were heard to say: "He's making fun of us!"
Rembrandt Painting
Rembrandt Painting
Are you going to put in any defense?"
"No!" replied the prisoner.
"Very well, then I will, Monsieur."
"You cannot do it," said the unhappy man with a faint smile.
"I can - and I will."
Rouletabille's voice had in it a strange strength and confidence.
"I can do it, Monsieur Robert Darzac, because I know more than you do!"
"Come! Come!" murmured Darzac, almost angrily.
"Have no fear! I shall know only what will benefit you."
"You must know nothing, young man, if you want me to be grateful."
Rouletabille shook his head, going close up to Darzac.
"Listen to what I am about to say," he said in a low tone, "and let it give you confidence. You do not know the name of the murderer. Mademoiselle Stangerson knows it; but only half of it; but I know his two halves; I know the whole man!"
Are you going to put in any defense?"
"No!" replied the prisoner.
"Very well, then I will, Monsieur."
"You cannot do it," said the unhappy man with a faint smile.
"I can - and I will."
Rouletabille's voice had in it a strange strength and confidence.
"I can do it, Monsieur Robert Darzac, because I know more than you do!"
"Come! Come!" murmured Darzac, almost angrily.
"Have no fear! I shall know only what will benefit you."
"You must know nothing, young man, if you want me to be grateful."
Rouletabille shook his head, going close up to Darzac.
"Listen to what I am about to say," he said in a low tone, "and let it give you confidence. You do not know the name of the murderer. Mademoiselle Stangerson knows it; but only half of it; but I know his two halves; I know the whole man!"
mona lisa painting
mona lisa painting
My friend's face, however, when he stood up, was as calm as it had been a moment before agitated.
"He is asleep," he said.
He led me to his chamber, after closing Larsan's room.
"The drug?" I asked. "Does Mademoiselle Stangerson wish to put everybody to sleep, to-night?"
"Perhaps," replied Rouletabille; but I could see he was thinking of something else.
"But what about us?" I exclaimed. "How do we know that we have not been drugged?"
"Do you feel indisposed?" Rouletabille asked me coolly.
"Not in the least."
"Do you feel any inclination to go to sleep?"
"None whatever."
"Well, then, my friend, smoke this excellent cigar." And he handed me a choice Havana, one Monsieur Darzac had given,him, while he lit his briarwood - his eternal briarwood
My friend's face, however, when he stood up, was as calm as it had been a moment before agitated.
"He is asleep," he said.
He led me to his chamber, after closing Larsan's room.
"The drug?" I asked. "Does Mademoiselle Stangerson wish to put everybody to sleep, to-night?"
"Perhaps," replied Rouletabille; but I could see he was thinking of something else.
"But what about us?" I exclaimed. "How do we know that we have not been drugged?"
"Do you feel indisposed?" Rouletabille asked me coolly.
"Not in the least."
"Do you feel any inclination to go to sleep?"
"None whatever."
"Well, then, my friend, smoke this excellent cigar." And he handed me a choice Havana, one Monsieur Darzac had given,him, while he lit his briarwood - his eternal briarwood
claude monet painting
claude monet painting
Are you sure of that?" asked Larsan. "Well, I am sure he is not. So it's a fight then?"
"Yes, it is a fight. But I shall beat you, Monsieur Frederic Larsan."
"Youth never doubts anything," said the great Fred laughingly, and held out his hand to me by way of conclusion.
Rouletabille's answer came like an echo:
"Not anything!"
Suddenly Larsan, who had risen to wish us goodnight, pressed both his hands to his chest and staggered. He was obliged to lean on Rouletabille for support, and to save himself from falling.
"Oh! Oh!" he cried. "What is the matter with me? - Have I been poisoned?"
He looked at us with haggard eyes. We questioned him vainly; he did not answer us. He had sunk into an armchair and we could get not a word from him. We were extremely distressed, both on his account and on our own, for we had partaken of all the dishes he had eaten. He seemed to be out of pain; but his heavy head had fallen on his shoulder and his eyelids were tightly closed. Rouletabille bent over him, listening for the beatings of the heart.
Are you sure of that?" asked Larsan. "Well, I am sure he is not. So it's a fight then?"
"Yes, it is a fight. But I shall beat you, Monsieur Frederic Larsan."
"Youth never doubts anything," said the great Fred laughingly, and held out his hand to me by way of conclusion.
Rouletabille's answer came like an echo:
"Not anything!"
Suddenly Larsan, who had risen to wish us goodnight, pressed both his hands to his chest and staggered. He was obliged to lean on Rouletabille for support, and to save himself from falling.
"Oh! Oh!" he cried. "What is the matter with me? - Have I been poisoned?"
He looked at us with haggard eyes. We questioned him vainly; he did not answer us. He had sunk into an armchair and we could get not a word from him. We were extremely distressed, both on his account and on our own, for we had partaken of all the dishes he had eaten. He seemed to be out of pain; but his heavy head had fallen on his shoulder and his eyelids were tightly closed. Rouletabille bent over him, listening for the beatings of the heart.
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at any rate, so far as his relations with the Stangersons. At one time, Larsan, who appeared to me to be unwell, said, with an effort:
"I think, Monsieur Rouletabille, that we've not much more to do at the Glandier, and that we sha'n't sleep here many more nights."
"I think so, too, Monsieur Fred."
"Then you think the conclusion of the matter has been reached?"
"I think, indeed, that we have nothing more to find out," replied Rouletabille.
"Have you found your criminal?" asked Larsan.
"Have you?"
"Yes."
"So have I," said Rouletabille.
"Can it be the same man?"
"I don't know if you have swerved from your original idea," said the young reporter. Then he added, with emphasis: "Monsieur Darzac is an honest man!"
at any rate, so far as his relations with the Stangersons. At one time, Larsan, who appeared to me to be unwell, said, with an effort:
"I think, Monsieur Rouletabille, that we've not much more to do at the Glandier, and that we sha'n't sleep here many more nights."
"I think so, too, Monsieur Fred."
"Then you think the conclusion of the matter has been reached?"
"I think, indeed, that we have nothing more to find out," replied Rouletabille.
"Have you found your criminal?" asked Larsan.
"Have you?"
"Yes."
"So have I," said Rouletabille.
"Can it be the same man?"
"I don't know if you have swerved from your original idea," said the young reporter. Then he added, with emphasis: "Monsieur Darzac is an honest man!"
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
leonardo da vinci mona lisa
leonardo da vinci mona lisa
A mutton-bone in the hand of a skilled assassin is a frightful weapon," said Rouletabille, "a more certain weapon than a heavy hammer."
"The scoundrel has proved it to be so," said Monsieur Robert Darzac, sadly. "The joint of the bone found exactly fits the wound inflicted.
My belief is that the wound would have been mortal, if the murderer's blow had not been arrested in the act by Mademoiselle Stangerson's revolver. Wounded in the hand, he dropped the mutton-bone and fled. Unfortunately, the blow had been already given, and Mademoiselle was stunned after having been nearly strangled. If she had succeeded in wounding the man with the first shot of the revolver, she would, doubtless, have escaped the blow with the bone. But she had certainly employed her revolver too late; the first shot deviated and lodged in the ceiling; it was the second only that took effect."
A mutton-bone in the hand of a skilled assassin is a frightful weapon," said Rouletabille, "a more certain weapon than a heavy hammer."
"The scoundrel has proved it to be so," said Monsieur Robert Darzac, sadly. "The joint of the bone found exactly fits the wound inflicted.
My belief is that the wound would have been mortal, if the murderer's blow had not been arrested in the act by Mademoiselle Stangerson's revolver. Wounded in the hand, he dropped the mutton-bone and fled. Unfortunately, the blow had been already given, and Mademoiselle was stunned after having been nearly strangled. If she had succeeded in wounding the man with the first shot of the revolver, she would, doubtless, have escaped the blow with the bone. But she had certainly employed her revolver too late; the first shot deviated and lodged in the ceiling; it was the second only that took effect."
leonardo da vinci last supper painting
leonardo da vinci last supper painting
that was used to attack her. Monsieur Darzac tells me it was a mutton-bone. Why is Monsieur de Marquet surrounding this mutton-bone with so much mystery? No doubt for the purpose of facilitating the inquiries of the agents of the Surete? He imagines, perhaps, that the owner of this instrument of crime, the most terrible invented, is going to be found amongst those who are well-known in the slums of Paris who use it. But who can ever say what passes through the brain of an examining magistrate?" Rouletabille added with contemptuous irony.
"Has a mutton-bone been found in The Yellow Room?" I asked him.
"Yes, Monsieur," said Robert Darzac, "at the foot of the bed; but I beg of you not to say anything about it." (I made a gesture of assent.) "It was an enormous mutton-bone, the top of which, or rather the joint, was still red with the blood of the frightful wound. It was an old bone, which may, according to appearances, have served in other crimes. That's what Monsieur de Marquet thinks. He has had it sent to the municipal laboratory at Paris to be analysed. In fact, he thinks he has detected on it, not only the blood of the last victim, but other stains of dried blood, evidences of previous crimes."
that was used to attack her. Monsieur Darzac tells me it was a mutton-bone. Why is Monsieur de Marquet surrounding this mutton-bone with so much mystery? No doubt for the purpose of facilitating the inquiries of the agents of the Surete? He imagines, perhaps, that the owner of this instrument of crime, the most terrible invented, is going to be found amongst those who are well-known in the slums of Paris who use it. But who can ever say what passes through the brain of an examining magistrate?" Rouletabille added with contemptuous irony.
"Has a mutton-bone been found in The Yellow Room?" I asked him.
"Yes, Monsieur," said Robert Darzac, "at the foot of the bed; but I beg of you not to say anything about it." (I made a gesture of assent.) "It was an enormous mutton-bone, the top of which, or rather the joint, was still red with the blood of the frightful wound. It was an old bone, which may, according to appearances, have served in other crimes. That's what Monsieur de Marquet thinks. He has had it sent to the municipal laboratory at Paris to be analysed. In fact, he thinks he has detected on it, not only the blood of the last victim, but other stains of dried blood, evidences of previous crimes."
picture of the last supper
picture of the last supper
Could not that blood-stained hand," I interrupted, "have been the hand of Mademoiselle Stangerson who, in the moment of falling, had pressed it against the wail, and, in slipping, enlarged the impression?"
"There was not a drop of blood on either of her hands when she was lifted up," replied Monsieur Darzac.
"We are now sure," said I, "that it was Mademoiselle Stangerson who was armed with Daddy Jacques's revolver, since she wounded the hand of the murderer. She was in fear, then, of somebody or something."
"Probably."
"Do you suspect anybody?"
"No," replied Monsieur Darzac, looking at Rouletabille. Rouletabille then said to me:
"You must know, my friend, that the inquiry is a little more advanced than Monsieur de Marquet has chosen to tell us. He not only knows that Mademoiselle Stangerson defended herself with the revolver, but he knows what the weapon was
Could not that blood-stained hand," I interrupted, "have been the hand of Mademoiselle Stangerson who, in the moment of falling, had pressed it against the wail, and, in slipping, enlarged the impression?"
"There was not a drop of blood on either of her hands when she was lifted up," replied Monsieur Darzac.
"We are now sure," said I, "that it was Mademoiselle Stangerson who was armed with Daddy Jacques's revolver, since she wounded the hand of the murderer. She was in fear, then, of somebody or something."
"Probably."
"Do you suspect anybody?"
"No," replied Monsieur Darzac, looking at Rouletabille. Rouletabille then said to me:
"You must know, my friend, that the inquiry is a little more advanced than Monsieur de Marquet has chosen to tell us. He not only knows that Mademoiselle Stangerson defended herself with the revolver, but he knows what the weapon was
nude art painting
nude art painting
crying "Murder! - murder! - help!" Immediately afterwards revolver shots rang out and there was a great noise of tables and furniture being thrown to the ground, as if in the course of a struggle, and again the voice of Mademoiselle calling, "Murder! - help! - Papa! - Papa! -"
"'You may be sure that we quickly sprang up and that Monsieur Stangerson and I threw ourselves upon the door. But alas! it was locked, fast locked, on the inside, by the care of Mademoiselle, as I have told you, with key and bolt. We tried to force it open, but it remained firm. Monsieur Stangerson was like a madman, and truly, it was enough to make him one, for we heard Mademoiselle still calling "Help! - help!" Monsieur Stangerson showered terrible blows on the door, and wept with rage and sobbed with despair and helplessness.
"'It was then that I had an inspiration. "The assassin must have entered by the window!" I cried; - "I will go to the window!" and I rushed from the pavilion and ran like one out of his mind.
crying "Murder! - murder! - help!" Immediately afterwards revolver shots rang out and there was a great noise of tables and furniture being thrown to the ground, as if in the course of a struggle, and again the voice of Mademoiselle calling, "Murder! - help! - Papa! - Papa! -"
"'You may be sure that we quickly sprang up and that Monsieur Stangerson and I threw ourselves upon the door. But alas! it was locked, fast locked, on the inside, by the care of Mademoiselle, as I have told you, with key and bolt. We tried to force it open, but it remained firm. Monsieur Stangerson was like a madman, and truly, it was enough to make him one, for we heard Mademoiselle still calling "Help! - help!" Monsieur Stangerson showered terrible blows on the door, and wept with rage and sobbed with despair and helplessness.
"'It was then that I had an inspiration. "The assassin must have entered by the window!" I cried; - "I will go to the window!" and I rushed from the pavilion and ran like one out of his mind.
famous art painting
famous art painting
Monsieur did not even hear me, he was so deeply absorbed in what he was doing. Just then we heard the distant miawing of a cat. "Is that going to keep us awake all night?" I said to myself; for I must tell you, Monsieur, that, to the end of October, I live in an attic of the pavilion over The Yellow Room, so that Mademoiselle should not be left alone through the night in the lonely park. It was the fancy of Mademoiselle to spend the fine weather in the pavilion; no doubt, she found it more cheerful than the chateau and, for the four years it had been built, she had never failed to take up her lodging there in the spring. With the return of winter, Mademoiselle returns to the chateau, for there is no fireplace in The Yellow Room.
"'We were staying in the pavilion, then - Monsieur Stangerson and me. We made no noise. He was seated at his desk. As for me, I was sitting on a chair, having finished my work and, looking at him, I said to myself: "What a man! - what intelligence! - what knowledge!" I attach importance to the fact that we made no noise; for, because of that, the assassin certainly thought that we had left the place. And, suddenly, while the cuckoo was sounding the half after midnight, a desperate clamour broke out in The Yellow Room. It was the voice of Mademoiselle,
Monsieur did not even hear me, he was so deeply absorbed in what he was doing. Just then we heard the distant miawing of a cat. "Is that going to keep us awake all night?" I said to myself; for I must tell you, Monsieur, that, to the end of October, I live in an attic of the pavilion over The Yellow Room, so that Mademoiselle should not be left alone through the night in the lonely park. It was the fancy of Mademoiselle to spend the fine weather in the pavilion; no doubt, she found it more cheerful than the chateau and, for the four years it had been built, she had never failed to take up her lodging there in the spring. With the return of winter, Mademoiselle returns to the chateau, for there is no fireplace in The Yellow Room.
"'We were staying in the pavilion, then - Monsieur Stangerson and me. We made no noise. He was seated at his desk. As for me, I was sitting on a chair, having finished my work and, looking at him, I said to myself: "What a man! - what intelligence! - what knowledge!" I attach importance to the fact that we made no noise; for, because of that, the assassin certainly thought that we had left the place. And, suddenly, while the cuckoo was sounding the half after midnight, a desperate clamour broke out in The Yellow Room. It was the voice of Mademoiselle,
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Edward Hopper Painting
Edward Hopper Painting
Pinocchio, not having listened to the good advice of the Talking Cricket, falls into the hands of the Assassins
"Dear, oh, dear! When I come to think of it," said the Marionette to himself, as he once more set out on his journey, "we boys are really very unlucky. Everybody scolds us, everybody gives us advice, everybody warns us. If we were to allow it, everyone would try to be father and mother to us; everyone, even the Talking Cricket. Take me, for example. Just because I would not listen to that bothersome Cricket, who knows how many misfortunes may be awaiting me! Assassins indeed! At least I have never believed in them, nor ever will. To speak sensibly, I think assassins have been invented by fathers and mothers to frighten children who want to run away at night. And then, even if I were to meet them on the road, what matter? I'll just run up to them, and say, `Well, signori, what do you want? Remember that you can't fool with me! Run along and mind your business.' At such a speech, I can almost see those poor fellows running like the wind. But in case they don't run away, I can always run myself. . ."
Pinocchio was not given time to argue any longer, for he thought he heard a slight rustle among the leaves behind him.
He turned to look and behold, there in the darkness stood two big black shadows, wrapped from head to foot in black sacks. The two figures leaped toward him as softly as if they were ghosts.
"Here they come!" Pinocchio said to himself, and, not knowing where to hide the gold pieces, he stuck all four of them under his tongue.
He tried to run away, but hardly had he taken a step, when he felt his arms grasped and heard two horrible, deep voices say to him: "Your money or your life!"
Pinocchio, not having listened to the good advice of the Talking Cricket, falls into the hands of the Assassins
"Dear, oh, dear! When I come to think of it," said the Marionette to himself, as he once more set out on his journey, "we boys are really very unlucky. Everybody scolds us, everybody gives us advice, everybody warns us. If we were to allow it, everyone would try to be father and mother to us; everyone, even the Talking Cricket. Take me, for example. Just because I would not listen to that bothersome Cricket, who knows how many misfortunes may be awaiting me! Assassins indeed! At least I have never believed in them, nor ever will. To speak sensibly, I think assassins have been invented by fathers and mothers to frighten children who want to run away at night. And then, even if I were to meet them on the road, what matter? I'll just run up to them, and say, `Well, signori, what do you want? Remember that you can't fool with me! Run along and mind your business.' At such a speech, I can almost see those poor fellows running like the wind. But in case they don't run away, I can always run myself. . ."
Pinocchio was not given time to argue any longer, for he thought he heard a slight rustle among the leaves behind him.
He turned to look and behold, there in the darkness stood two big black shadows, wrapped from head to foot in black sacks. The two figures leaped toward him as softly as if they were ghosts.
"Here they come!" Pinocchio said to himself, and, not knowing where to hide the gold pieces, he stuck all four of them under his tongue.
He tried to run away, but hardly had he taken a step, when he felt his arms grasped and heard two horrible, deep voices say to him: "Your money or your life!"
Van Gogh Sunflower
Van Gogh Sunflower
Give us two good rooms, one for Mr. Pinocchio and the other for me and my friend. Before starting out, we'll take a little nap. Remember to call us at midnight sharp, for we must continue on our journey."
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"Yes, sir," answered the Innkeeper, winking in a knowing way at the Fox and the Cat, as if to say, "I understand."
As soon as Pinocchio was in bed, he fell fast asleep and began to dream. He dreamed he was in the middle of a field. The field was full of vines heavy with grapes. The grapes were no other than gold coins which tinkled merrily as they swayed in the wind. They seemed to say, "Let him who wants us take us!"
Just as Pinocchio stretched out his hand to take a handful of them, he was awakened by three loud knocks at the door. It was the Innkeeper who had come to tell him that midnight had struck.
"Are my friends ready?" the Marionette asked him.
"Indeed, yes! They went two hours ago."
"Why in such a hurry?"
"Unfortunately the Cat received a telegram which said that his first-born was suffering from chilblains and was on the point of death. He could not even wait to say good-by to you."
"Did they pay for the supper?"
"How could they do such a thing? Being people of great refinement, they did not want to offend you so deeply as not to allow you the honor of paying the bill."
Give us two good rooms, one for Mr. Pinocchio and the other for me and my friend. Before starting out, we'll take a little nap. Remember to call us at midnight sharp, for we must continue on our journey."
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"Yes, sir," answered the Innkeeper, winking in a knowing way at the Fox and the Cat, as if to say, "I understand."
As soon as Pinocchio was in bed, he fell fast asleep and began to dream. He dreamed he was in the middle of a field. The field was full of vines heavy with grapes. The grapes were no other than gold coins which tinkled merrily as they swayed in the wind. They seemed to say, "Let him who wants us take us!"
Just as Pinocchio stretched out his hand to take a handful of them, he was awakened by three loud knocks at the door. It was the Innkeeper who had come to tell him that midnight had struck.
"Are my friends ready?" the Marionette asked him.
"Indeed, yes! They went two hours ago."
"Why in such a hurry?"
"Unfortunately the Cat received a telegram which said that his first-born was suffering from chilblains and was on the point of death. He could not even wait to say good-by to you."
"Did they pay for the supper?"
"How could they do such a thing? Being people of great refinement, they did not want to offend you so deeply as not to allow you the honor of paying the bill."
Van Gogh Painting
Van Gogh Painting
The Inn of the Red Lobster
Cat and Fox and Marionette walked and walked and walked. At last, toward evening, dead tired, they came to the Inn of the Red Lobster.
"Let us stop here a while," said the Fox, "to eat a bite and rest for a few hours. At midnight we'll start out again, for at dawn tomorrow we must be at the Field of Wonders."
They went into the Inn and all three sat down at the same table. However, not one of them was very hungry.
The poor Cat felt very weak, and he was able to eat only thirty-five mullets with tomato sauce and four portions of tripe with cheese. Moreover, as he was so in need of strength, he had to have four more helpings of butter and cheese.
The Fox, after a great deal of coaxing, tried his best to eat a little. The doctor had put him on a diet, and he had to be satisfied with a small hare dressed with a dozen young and tender spring chickens. After the hare, he ordered some partridges, a few pheasants, a couple of rabbits, and a dozen frogs and lizards. That was all. He felt ill, he said, and could not eat another bite.
Pinocchio ate least of all. He asked for a bite of bread and a few nuts and then hardly touched them. The poor fellow, with his mind on the Field of Wonders, was suffering from a gold-piece indigestion.
Supper over, the Fox said to the Innkeeper:
The Inn of the Red Lobster
Cat and Fox and Marionette walked and walked and walked. At last, toward evening, dead tired, they came to the Inn of the Red Lobster.
"Let us stop here a while," said the Fox, "to eat a bite and rest for a few hours. At midnight we'll start out again, for at dawn tomorrow we must be at the Field of Wonders."
They went into the Inn and all three sat down at the same table. However, not one of them was very hungry.
The poor Cat felt very weak, and he was able to eat only thirty-five mullets with tomato sauce and four portions of tripe with cheese. Moreover, as he was so in need of strength, he had to have four more helpings of butter and cheese.
The Fox, after a great deal of coaxing, tried his best to eat a little. The doctor had put him on a diet, and he had to be satisfied with a small hare dressed with a dozen young and tender spring chickens. After the hare, he ordered some partridges, a few pheasants, a couple of rabbits, and a dozen frogs and lizards. That was all. He felt ill, he said, and could not eat another bite.
Pinocchio ate least of all. He asked for a bite of bread and a few nuts and then hardly touched them. The poor fellow, with his mind on the Field of Wonders, was suffering from a gold-piece indigestion.
Supper over, the Fox said to the Innkeeper:
Saturday, May 10, 2008
contemporary abstract painting
contemporary abstract painting
was coming back changed! Already the Eloi had begun to learn one old lesson anew. They were becoming reacquainted with Fear. And suddenly there came into my head the memory of the meat I had seen in the Under-world. It seemed odd how it floated into my mind: not stirred up as it were by the current of my meditations, but coming in almost like a question from outside. I tried to recall the form of it. I had a vague sense of something familiar, but I could not tell what it was at the time.
`Still, however helpless the little people in the presence of their mysterious Fear, I was differently constituted. I came out of this age of ours, this ripe prime of the human race, when Fear does not paralyse and mystery has lost its terrors. I at least would defend myself. Without further delay I determined to make myself arms and a fastness where I might sleep. With that refuge as a base, I could face this strange world with some of that confidence I had lost in realizing to what creatures night by night I lay exposed. I felt I could never sleep again until my bed was secure from them. I shuddered with horror to think how they must already have examined me.
was coming back changed! Already the Eloi had begun to learn one old lesson anew. They were becoming reacquainted with Fear. And suddenly there came into my head the memory of the meat I had seen in the Under-world. It seemed odd how it floated into my mind: not stirred up as it were by the current of my meditations, but coming in almost like a question from outside. I tried to recall the form of it. I had a vague sense of something familiar, but I could not tell what it was at the time.
`Still, however helpless the little people in the presence of their mysterious Fear, I was differently constituted. I came out of this age of ours, this ripe prime of the human race, when Fear does not paralyse and mystery has lost its terrors. I at least would defend myself. Without further delay I determined to make myself arms and a fastness where I might sleep. With that refuge as a base, I could face this strange world with some of that confidence I had lost in realizing to what creatures night by night I lay exposed. I felt I could never sleep again until my bed was secure from them. I shuddered with horror to think how they must already have examined me.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
leonardo da vinci last supper painting
leonardo da vinci last supper painting
"That must not be, either!" said the Princess. "But do you all stand before me that no one may see us."
And the court-ladies placed themselves in front of her, and spread out their dresses--the swineherd got ten kisses, and the Princess--the kitchen-pot.
That was delightful! The pot was boiling the whole evening, and the whole of the following day. They knew perfectly well what was cooking at every fire throughout the city, from the chamberlain’s to the cobbler’s; the court-ladies danced and clapped their hands.
"We know who has soup, and who has pancakes for dinner to-day, who has cutlets, and who has eggs. How interesting!"
"Yes, but keep my secret, for I am an Emperor’s daughter."
The swineherd--that is to say--the Prince, for no one knew that he was other than an ill-favored swineherd, let not a day pass without working at something; he at last constructed a rattle, which, when it was swung round, played all the waltzes and jig tunes, which have ever been heard since the creation of the world.
"That must not be, either!" said the Princess. "But do you all stand before me that no one may see us."
And the court-ladies placed themselves in front of her, and spread out their dresses--the swineherd got ten kisses, and the Princess--the kitchen-pot.
That was delightful! The pot was boiling the whole evening, and the whole of the following day. They knew perfectly well what was cooking at every fire throughout the city, from the chamberlain’s to the cobbler’s; the court-ladies danced and clapped their hands.
"We know who has soup, and who has pancakes for dinner to-day, who has cutlets, and who has eggs. How interesting!"
"Yes, but keep my secret, for I am an Emperor’s daughter."
The swineherd--that is to say--the Prince, for no one knew that he was other than an ill-favored swineherd, let not a day pass without working at something; he at last constructed a rattle, which, when it was swung round, played all the waltzes and jig tunes, which have ever been heard since the creation of the world.
picture of the last supper
picture of the last supper
Now the Princess happened to walk that way; and when she heard the tune, she stood quite still, and seemed pleased; for she could play "Lieber Augustine"; it was the only piece she knew; and she played it with one finger.
"Why there is my piece," said the Princess. "That swineherd must certainly have been well educated! Go in and ask him the price of the instrument."
So one of the court-ladies must run in; however, she drew on wooden slippers first.
"What will you take for the kitchen-pot?" said the lady.
"I will have ten kisses from the Princess," said the swineherd.
"Yes, indeed!" said the lady.
"I cannot sell it for less," rejoined the swineherd.
"He is an impudent fellow!" said the Princess, and she walked on; but when she had gone a little way, the bells tinkled so prettily
"Ach! du lieber Augustin,
Alles ist weg, weg, weg!"
"Stay," said the Princess. "Ask him if he will have ten kisses from the ladies of my court."
"No, thank you!" said the swineherd. "Ten kisses from the Princess, or I keep the kitchen-pot myself."
Now the Princess happened to walk that way; and when she heard the tune, she stood quite still, and seemed pleased; for she could play "Lieber Augustine"; it was the only piece she knew; and she played it with one finger.
"Why there is my piece," said the Princess. "That swineherd must certainly have been well educated! Go in and ask him the price of the instrument."
So one of the court-ladies must run in; however, she drew on wooden slippers first.
"What will you take for the kitchen-pot?" said the lady.
"I will have ten kisses from the Princess," said the swineherd.
"Yes, indeed!" said the lady.
"I cannot sell it for less," rejoined the swineherd.
"He is an impudent fellow!" said the Princess, and she walked on; but when she had gone a little way, the bells tinkled so prettily
"Ach! du lieber Augustin,
Alles ist weg, weg, weg!"
"Stay," said the Princess. "Ask him if he will have ten kisses from the ladies of my court."
"No, thank you!" said the swineherd. "Ten kisses from the Princess, or I keep the kitchen-pot myself."
the last supper painting
the last supper painting
"I will still hope that it is not a real bird," said the Princess.
"Yes, it is a real bird," said those who had brought it. "Well then let the bird fly," said the Princess; and she positively refused to see the Prince.
However, he was not to be discouraged; he daubed his face over brown and black; pulled his cap over his ears, and knocked at the door.
"Good day to my lord, the Emperor!" said he. "Can I have employment at the palace?"
"Why, yes," said the Emperor. "I want some one to take care of the pigs, for we have a great many of them."
So the Prince was appointed "Imperial Swineherd." He had a dirty little room close by the pigsty; and there he sat the whole day, and worked. By the evening he had made a pretty little kitchen-pot. Little bells were hung all round it; and when the pot was boiling, these bells tinkled in the most charming manner, and played the old melody,
"Ach! du lieber Augustin,
Alles ist weg, weg, weg!"*
* "Ah! dear Augustine!
All is gone, gone, gone!"
But what was still more curious, whoever held his finger in the smoke of the kitchen-pot, immediately smelt all the dishes that were cooking on every hearth in the city--this, you see, was something quite different from the rose.
"I will still hope that it is not a real bird," said the Princess.
"Yes, it is a real bird," said those who had brought it. "Well then let the bird fly," said the Princess; and she positively refused to see the Prince.
However, he was not to be discouraged; he daubed his face over brown and black; pulled his cap over his ears, and knocked at the door.
"Good day to my lord, the Emperor!" said he. "Can I have employment at the palace?"
"Why, yes," said the Emperor. "I want some one to take care of the pigs, for we have a great many of them."
So the Prince was appointed "Imperial Swineherd." He had a dirty little room close by the pigsty; and there he sat the whole day, and worked. By the evening he had made a pretty little kitchen-pot. Little bells were hung all round it; and when the pot was boiling, these bells tinkled in the most charming manner, and played the old melody,
"Ach! du lieber Augustin,
Alles ist weg, weg, weg!"*
* "Ah! dear Augustine!
All is gone, gone, gone!"
But what was still more curious, whoever held his finger in the smoke of the kitchen-pot, immediately smelt all the dishes that were cooking on every hearth in the city--this, you see, was something quite different from the rose.
chinese landscape painting
chinese landscape painting
欢迎楼主光临职场人生。故事即可笑，又可悲，愚蠢而又滑稽。皇帝喜爱自己的爱妃本无克非议，却为了治好，本也治不好的病而乱杀无辜，实在是可悲，可笑，太医为了保全自己却也使出了坏招，促使皇帝杀了无辜。而此时，好心的太监为了得到自己的目的，献出了自己的生命，结果换来的却是灭九族的灾难。实在的愚蠢和滑稽呀！支持好文！！这太监比喻很多涉世未深的，刚出来工作的人，以为帮老板做些轰轰烈烈的事情就会得到老板的赏识，其实很容易成了无谓的牺牲，甚至得不偿失，老太医比喻的是职场的老泥鳅，为求自保，不惜害人。其实很多老板也像那个昏君一样，为达到一些他认为很重要的目的，也经常强迫下属完成一些不能完成的任务，甚至不惜牺牲自己下属的利益，当属下的肯为老板牺牲，也必须看清楚自己的牺牲为的是什么，有没有价值。
一将功成万骨枯，但功不成时，或者这功成不成也没什么意义时，那些累累的白骨也一样枯了。当下属的除了要尽职尽责，保护自己也很重要。
欢迎楼主光临职场人生。故事即可笑，又可悲，愚蠢而又滑稽。皇帝喜爱自己的爱妃本无克非议，却为了治好，本也治不好的病而乱杀无辜，实在是可悲，可笑，太医为了保全自己却也使出了坏招，促使皇帝杀了无辜。而此时，好心的太监为了得到自己的目的，献出了自己的生命，结果换来的却是灭九族的灾难。实在的愚蠢和滑稽呀！支持好文！！这太监比喻很多涉世未深的，刚出来工作的人，以为帮老板做些轰轰烈烈的事情就会得到老板的赏识，其实很容易成了无谓的牺牲，甚至得不偿失，老太医比喻的是职场的老泥鳅，为求自保，不惜害人。其实很多老板也像那个昏君一样，为达到一些他认为很重要的目的，也经常强迫下属完成一些不能完成的任务，甚至不惜牺牲自己下属的利益，当属下的肯为老板牺牲，也必须看清楚自己的牺牲为的是什么，有没有价值。
一将功成万骨枯，但功不成时，或者这功成不成也没什么意义时，那些累累的白骨也一样枯了。当下属的除了要尽职尽责，保护自己也很重要。
pop art painting
我睁圆双眼，直瞪着他，厉声大喝道：“不怕掉脑袋的话，就打过来好了。”大概是被我的气势所震慑，加之又不知我的底细，这个士卒愣在当场，鞭子就举在半空，硬是不敢落不下来。
僵持了一会，这士卒终于颓然道：“好吧，我带你去见将军，你小子要是扯慌的话，将军自然会收拾你。”
朱治大帐。
两排披甲的卫士持刀环列在两厢，在大帐的正中，朱治一身戎装，端坐在案几后面，我仔细端详过去，见朱治年约四十上下，脸色红润，一副精明干炼的模样。
朱治上下打量了我许久，问道：“方才自报有要事找我的，可是你？”
我冷笑一声，抬头瞧着大帐的顶蓬，象是没听到朱治问话一般。
朱治见我如此神情，眼中杀气顿现，质问道：“可是你有事找本将军？”
我慢慢的将目光从蓬顶移向朱治，缓缓的说道：“刚才是有事相告，现在嘛没有了——。”
朱治奋然起身，大声道：“小辈安敢欺吾？”
我神情坦然，道：“不敢。”
朱治一拍案几，怒喝道：“来人，将这个狂妄之徒给我拉出去杖棍毙了。”朱治话音方落，等候的众卫士一拥而上，便要将我拖将出去。
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
van gogh painting
van gogh painting
周泰道：“那贤弟今后有何打算？”
我道：“刘繇乃汉室宗亲，朝廷亲授扬州牧，于我又有赦恩，我正欲回曲阿复归其军下。”
周泰一听，急道：“刘繇懦弱，哪里是孙策的对手，贤弟执意回去，他日我兄弟二人对阵搏杀又如何是好？”
我大声道：“大丈夫有所为而有所不为，他日阵前撕杀，即是各为其主，你我只管使出本事尽力而为即可，谁也无需挂念兄弟之情而手下留情，如此方不失热血男儿的本色。”
“大丈夫有所为而有所不为，贤弟说得好！”周泰击掌大笑道。
次日，我别过周泰，与那些一同回城的一众溃兵乘着小船从水路赶往曲阿，孙策大军渡江南来，走的是陆路，水路相对来说要安全得多，所以这一路上倒是平静的很，而且，走水路我还可以躺在船舱中静养。
自我与周泰一番大战后，这些与我一同从战场上逃回的士卒对我个个佩服得紧，他们知道如果没有我的话，莫说安然回家，就是小命都不一定保得住。
看见曲阿城墙的时侯，已是在五日之后，敷上周泰给我的金创药，我的伤已好了个七七八八，虽然左胁处不时还隐隐作痛。
周泰道：“那贤弟今后有何打算？”
我道：“刘繇乃汉室宗亲，朝廷亲授扬州牧，于我又有赦恩，我正欲回曲阿复归其军下。”
周泰一听，急道：“刘繇懦弱，哪里是孙策的对手，贤弟执意回去，他日我兄弟二人对阵搏杀又如何是好？”
我大声道：“大丈夫有所为而有所不为，他日阵前撕杀，即是各为其主，你我只管使出本事尽力而为即可，谁也无需挂念兄弟之情而手下留情，如此方不失热血男儿的本色。”
“大丈夫有所为而有所不为，贤弟说得好！”周泰击掌大笑道。
次日，我别过周泰，与那些一同回城的一众溃兵乘着小船从水路赶往曲阿，孙策大军渡江南来，走的是陆路，水路相对来说要安全得多，所以这一路上倒是平静的很，而且，走水路我还可以躺在船舱中静养。
自我与周泰一番大战后，这些与我一同从战场上逃回的士卒对我个个佩服得紧，他们知道如果没有我的话，莫说安然回家，就是小命都不一定保得住。
看见曲阿城墙的时侯，已是在五日之后，敷上周泰给我的金创药，我的伤已好了个七七八八，虽然左胁处不时还隐隐作痛。
painting idea
painting idea
在这里能领略到最严酷的电子战威胁，他有可能被4部搜索雷达同时捕捉到，然后转到相应的目标指示雷达，在虚拟导弹或者火炮开火前，飞行员只有十几秒钟时间进行电子干扰，可他要压制的地面雷达目标最低不少于12部！
未来美国最大的武器试验中心
各国军工技术的不断透明化，使得美国雪藏了近半个世纪的中国湖试验场，逐渐大白于天下。过去30年，有关中国湖的数据、图像以及其他资料已相继解密。来此一睹绝密海军基地风采的游客络绎不绝。如今，许多滑雪爱好者和露营者拥向南加州，沿着395号州际公路前往马默斯山或约塞米蒂国家公园，主要目的就是途中能有幸目睹现场版的“星球大战”。在此状况下，美国国防部的举动更干脆。2005年5月20日，美国海军中国湖试验场，从整体面积中划出146平方公里的土地，作为“国家历史名胜”区，并成立武器技术博物馆供游客参观。
此外，五角大楼还计划进一步扩大该基地规模。据悉，国防部长罗伯特•盖茨，已批准向该基地派遣2000名武器专家的建议。不久，中国湖海军基地将成为美国最大的武器试验中心。
在这里能领略到最严酷的电子战威胁，他有可能被4部搜索雷达同时捕捉到，然后转到相应的目标指示雷达，在虚拟导弹或者火炮开火前，飞行员只有十几秒钟时间进行电子干扰，可他要压制的地面雷达目标最低不少于12部！
未来美国最大的武器试验中心
各国军工技术的不断透明化，使得美国雪藏了近半个世纪的中国湖试验场，逐渐大白于天下。过去30年，有关中国湖的数据、图像以及其他资料已相继解密。来此一睹绝密海军基地风采的游客络绎不绝。如今，许多滑雪爱好者和露营者拥向南加州，沿着395号州际公路前往马默斯山或约塞米蒂国家公园，主要目的就是途中能有幸目睹现场版的“星球大战”。在此状况下，美国国防部的举动更干脆。2005年5月20日，美国海军中国湖试验场，从整体面积中划出146平方公里的土地，作为“国家历史名胜”区，并成立武器技术博物馆供游客参观。
此外，五角大楼还计划进一步扩大该基地规模。据悉，国防部长罗伯特•盖茨，已批准向该基地派遣2000名武器专家的建议。不久，中国湖海军基地将成为美国最大的武器试验中心。
Monday, May 5, 2008
William Bouguereau Birth of Venus Painting
William Bouguereau Birth of Venus Painting
Cabanel The Birth of Venus painting
《印度时报》5月5日文章，原题：中国对印度发起网络攻击 中国的网络战部队在阔步前进，而印度正默默地遭受损害。官员们说，近一年半以来，中国几乎每天都在攻击印度的政府或私人计算机网络，这说明了中国的意图和能力。
这种持续的网络攻击与当前两国间政治上的不平静几乎同时发生。
[ 转自铁血社区 http://bbs.tiexue.net/ ]
据政府高级官员称，这些攻击不是孤立事件，与一般所说的“黑客攻击”不一样。它们的手法显然要更老练、更高明，并且这种疯狂行为的背后存在某种计划性。
官员们表示，在公开场合，他们佯称“黑客攻击”属司空见惯的活动，来自于世界的许多地方。但私下里他们承认，来自中国的网络战威胁比来自其他国家的更现实。
攻击的核心是，中国人持续对印度的官方计算机网络进行扫描和映射。这不仅使他们能充分了解印度网络的内容，而且也充分获知在冲突中如何瘫痪或破坏网络。
官员们说，中国此举是想获得相对于潜在对手的“不对称优势”。
Cabanel The Birth of Venus painting
《印度时报》5月5日文章，原题：中国对印度发起网络攻击 中国的网络战部队在阔步前进，而印度正默默地遭受损害。官员们说，近一年半以来，中国几乎每天都在攻击印度的政府或私人计算机网络，这说明了中国的意图和能力。
这种持续的网络攻击与当前两国间政治上的不平静几乎同时发生。
[ 转自铁血社区 http://bbs.tiexue.net/ ]
据政府高级官员称，这些攻击不是孤立事件，与一般所说的“黑客攻击”不一样。它们的手法显然要更老练、更高明，并且这种疯狂行为的背后存在某种计划性。
官员们表示，在公开场合，他们佯称“黑客攻击”属司空见惯的活动，来自于世界的许多地方。但私下里他们承认，来自中国的网络战威胁比来自其他国家的更现实。
攻击的核心是，中国人持续对印度的官方计算机网络进行扫描和映射。这不仅使他们能充分了解印度网络的内容，而且也充分获知在冲突中如何瘫痪或破坏网络。
官员们说，中国此举是想获得相对于潜在对手的“不对称优势”。
Sunday, May 4, 2008
art painting on canvas
art painting on canvas 此帖在全世界只有一个沙发，即本人现在所在的沙发。沙发两边的扶手同属于一个沙发。任何企图妄想制造两个沙发，或是一个沙发一个板凳的行为，都必将遭到包括中国人民在内的全体看帖人民的反对!不管实际情况是怎么样的，也不用考虑朝鲜民族到底是好是坏，我们只应该从我们民族的根本利益出发。朝鲜对我们来说是不容有失的战略要地。根本不能允许一个敌对国家控制他，更不可能允许一个敌对的超级大国染指！和平环境需要多方面的因素， 归结起来是两点：软环境和硬环境，地理因素属于硬环境。我国周围的硬环境不是很好，保持现有的周边缓冲地带是必须的，这也决定了对朝鲜，缅甸，巴基斯坦等友好国家的支持和保护是必须且必要的。军事斗争的充分准备也在很大程度上决定了这些地域对我国的保护指数。民族无谓好坏，只是各自的利益出发点不同，在坚持保护自己利益的同时能兼顾周边国家的利益是上上之策，但不能一味迁就狭义的“和平发展”。大国之风并不是意味着什么事都能包容的。我认为可以卖点飞机给朝鲜。例如FC1，数量也不要太多，1-2个团就够。
主要意思就是给美日看看，我们是保护朝鲜的，要想解决朝鲜问题就回来谈判，别惦记着打我的邻居。
主要意思就是给美日看看，我们是保护朝鲜的，要想解决朝鲜问题就回来谈判，别惦记着打我的邻居。
Mary Cassatt painting
Mary Cassatt painting
说实话，这位所谓的“我军军官”很没道理，马鼎盛是什么人？他的“军事情报要是准确、军事知识要是丰富、军事认知要是成熟”，那还要你干嘛？在空军工作的就应该是他马鼎盛了。楼主是非不分！
我们要大力消除“中国威胁论”的影响，所以做节目的言辞肯定不能太露骨。
马鼎盛有没有获得我军情况的情报途径暂且不论，而且他的主要任务恐怕就是忽悠吧！
我还记得他说我们造航母的主要目的是为了对付台湾。是你你信吗？5楼的话才是真话,凤凰卫视的军事节目本来就是定位于民间军事节目,这是凤凰卫视自己说的,象前两天,中国官方高度发表要使中国军队透明化以达到威慑作用,是很得包括凤凰卫视等军事节目的支持的,说这对民间军事节目能更透彻,更清晰的了解中国的军事实力是很好的,是中国迈向强国的第一步.凤凰卫视军事节目主持人马鼎盛先生就是一个典型的外行指挥内行!!!
说实话，这位所谓的“我军军官”很没道理，马鼎盛是什么人？他的“军事情报要是准确、军事知识要是丰富、军事认知要是成熟”，那还要你干嘛？在空军工作的就应该是他马鼎盛了。楼主是非不分！
我们要大力消除“中国威胁论”的影响，所以做节目的言辞肯定不能太露骨。
马鼎盛有没有获得我军情况的情报途径暂且不论，而且他的主要任务恐怕就是忽悠吧！
我还记得他说我们造航母的主要目的是为了对付台湾。是你你信吗？5楼的话才是真话,凤凰卫视的军事节目本来就是定位于民间军事节目,这是凤凰卫视自己说的,象前两天,中国官方高度发表要使中国军队透明化以达到威慑作用,是很得包括凤凰卫视等军事节目的支持的,说这对民间军事节目能更透彻,更清晰的了解中国的军事实力是很好的,是中国迈向强国的第一步.凤凰卫视军事节目主持人马鼎盛先生就是一个典型的外行指挥内行!!!
Famous artist painting
Famous artist painting
部队冲击。副政指苗孝忠带领4名侦察员，紧随4连3班右正面向敌人冲击。由于地形对我不利，冲击刚一开始，我方就有3人负伤。侦察兵兰生东腿部负伤后，他就坐在地上向敌射击，直到配合3排攻夺下了路旁两个地堡后，他又再次胸部中弹，英勇地牺牲在战斗岗位上。战士陈云生左大腿负伤，仍继续坚持战斗。曾在择拉山口左臂负伤的侦察兵高克寿，一声不响地包札了伤口后，又继续追击逃敌，投入拔除波辛山口敌据点的战斗中。
3排在和敌人激战的同时，团侦察股宋股长带领12名侦察员从敌人左翼岩石处攀登，他们你推我拉，急得同志们低声催促：“快上！快上！不能让敌人再逃跑了。”3班长张玉声率领5名侦察兵，首先爬了上去。接近敌人机枪工事时，突然向敌人开火，使正在向我正面冲击勇士猛烈扫射的敌人死的死，伤的伤，一下子解除了对我军正面的威胁。敌人的机枪顿时复成了“哑巴”。守敌80余名，大部被歼，少数棄械向后方森林中怆惶逃窜。
八. 穷追不舍
波辛山口印军据点被我拔除后，前卫部队在追击南逃之敌的途中，发现卡拉印军据点火光冲天。这是印军纵火烧毁营房、物质仓库，先行逃跑。我军即加快行进速度，挟势如破竹之势，沿着山脊小道问南疾速追进。
部队冲击。副政指苗孝忠带领4名侦察员，紧随4连3班右正面向敌人冲击。由于地形对我不利，冲击刚一开始，我方就有3人负伤。侦察兵兰生东腿部负伤后，他就坐在地上向敌射击，直到配合3排攻夺下了路旁两个地堡后，他又再次胸部中弹，英勇地牺牲在战斗岗位上。战士陈云生左大腿负伤，仍继续坚持战斗。曾在择拉山口左臂负伤的侦察兵高克寿，一声不响地包札了伤口后，又继续追击逃敌，投入拔除波辛山口敌据点的战斗中。
3排在和敌人激战的同时，团侦察股宋股长带领12名侦察员从敌人左翼岩石处攀登，他们你推我拉，急得同志们低声催促：“快上！快上！不能让敌人再逃跑了。”3班长张玉声率领5名侦察兵，首先爬了上去。接近敌人机枪工事时，突然向敌人开火，使正在向我正面冲击勇士猛烈扫射的敌人死的死，伤的伤，一下子解除了对我军正面的威胁。敌人的机枪顿时复成了“哑巴”。守敌80余名，大部被歼，少数棄械向后方森林中怆惶逃窜。
八. 穷追不舍
波辛山口印军据点被我拔除后，前卫部队在追击南逃之敌的途中，发现卡拉印军据点火光冲天。这是印军纵火烧毁营房、物质仓库，先行逃跑。我军即加快行进速度，挟势如破竹之势，沿着山脊小道问南疾速追进。
机喷画龙无框画
机喷画龙无框画
“赔了海军赔陆军。”
大山岩听了，大叫一声，倒在地上。这一次，尽管军医全力抢救，但是还是没有抢救回来。
就这样，11月18日，两万劫后余生的日本兵带找他们主将的尸体回到了横须贺，原本的9000万两白银只剩下3000万两。
此时的俄国人已经占领本州，兵锋直指东京，最近处距离东京不过百里。而此时，两万士兵还没有从渡海的疲劳中解脱出来。
东京，危在旦夕。 日本凄风惨雨时，东北艳阳高照。
11月份的东北，已经是天寒地冻，但是在辽阳的司令部里，气氛却十分热烈
东北共和国的最后一次建国会议准备，正在紧张有序的进行着。
一般是由参与会议的议员提出方案，交给会议主席张骞发布，然后大家表决。
前面已经顺利的通过了几项决议，确定了国体、政体、国家元首以及各部部长人员名单。
国体采用 共和制
政体实行三权分立制度
国家元首为总统 任期待定
政府部门暂时拟定为海关部、财务部、教育部、金融部、交通部、工业部、农业部、外交部、安全部以及军部十大部
“赔了海军赔陆军。”
大山岩听了，大叫一声，倒在地上。这一次，尽管军医全力抢救，但是还是没有抢救回来。
就这样，11月18日，两万劫后余生的日本兵带找他们主将的尸体回到了横须贺，原本的9000万两白银只剩下3000万两。
此时的俄国人已经占领本州，兵锋直指东京，最近处距离东京不过百里。而此时，两万士兵还没有从渡海的疲劳中解脱出来。
东京，危在旦夕。 日本凄风惨雨时，东北艳阳高照。
11月份的东北，已经是天寒地冻，但是在辽阳的司令部里，气氛却十分热烈
东北共和国的最后一次建国会议准备，正在紧张有序的进行着。
一般是由参与会议的议员提出方案，交给会议主席张骞发布，然后大家表决。
前面已经顺利的通过了几项决议，确定了国体、政体、国家元首以及各部部长人员名单。
国体采用 共和制
政体实行三权分立制度
国家元首为总统 任期待定
政府部门暂时拟定为海关部、财务部、教育部、金融部、交通部、工业部、农业部、外交部、安全部以及军部十大部
oil painting for sale
oil painting for sale 而我与俄国开战，并非其他，只是因为俄罗斯杀戮我国子民，这叫必战之战，虽然敌弱我强，但是我在内线作战，身后就是巍巍要塞，而外线之海军胜过俄罗斯太平洋舰队数倍，绝无可能将我困死。我处境稳若泰山。如果不出兵，则民望尽失，出兵则民望尽归我军。必须出兵，而且必须在三天内结束战斗，务必全歼入侵之俄军！”
说完这些，赵刚在不管他们，径直命令道：
“传我将令，最先到者，赏白银十万两，前一百名到者，赏银千两，一千名上百两，两日内到者皆赏十两，逾期不到者斩！趁乱逃跑者斩！！骚扰百姓者斩！！！。
军令如山，下达时，第二师第三团正在辽西训练，一声令下，全部浩浩荡荡跑向海兰泡，一天一夜跑了一百四十里，10月21日下午一点到达黑龙江，与隔江相望的海兰泡不过六公里之遥。
从10月19日大屠杀之后，俄军并未再次进行大屠杀，但是大屠杀随时可能再次上演，六、七千中国同胞的生命危在旦夕。
下午三点，俄军头目格里布斯基宣布：明天，将海兰泡市的中国人全部肃清。另外，格里布斯基宣布征用海兰泡中国居民所遗留之粮食、家畜，拍卖财产，以供军需。
说完这些，赵刚在不管他们，径直命令道：
“传我将令，最先到者，赏白银十万两，前一百名到者，赏银千两，一千名上百两，两日内到者皆赏十两，逾期不到者斩！趁乱逃跑者斩！！骚扰百姓者斩！！！。
军令如山，下达时，第二师第三团正在辽西训练，一声令下，全部浩浩荡荡跑向海兰泡，一天一夜跑了一百四十里，10月21日下午一点到达黑龙江，与隔江相望的海兰泡不过六公里之遥。
从10月19日大屠杀之后，俄军并未再次进行大屠杀，但是大屠杀随时可能再次上演，六、七千中国同胞的生命危在旦夕。
下午三点，俄军头目格里布斯基宣布：明天，将海兰泡市的中国人全部肃清。另外，格里布斯基宣布征用海兰泡中国居民所遗留之粮食、家畜，拍卖财产，以供军需。
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