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the last supper painting
"Good heavens，Poirot，"I cried，"this is a matter of life and death. What does it matter what happens to our clothes?" "You have no sense of proportion，Hastings.We cannot catch a trainearlier than the time that it leaves，and to ruin one's clothes will not bethe least helpful in preventing a murder." Taking his suitcase from me firmly，he took the packing into his ownhands. He explained that we were to take the letter and envelope to Paddingtonwith us.Someone from Scotland Yard would meet us there.
oil paintings When we arrived on the platform the first person we saw was InspectorCrome. He answered Poirot's look of inquiry. "No news as yet.All men available are on the look-out.All persons whosename begins with Care being warned by phone when possible.There's just achance.Where's the letter?" Poirot gave it to him. He examined it，swearing softly under his breath. "Of all the damned luck.The stars in their courses fight for the

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There was something so arresting in her pose that it intrigued me. "Who are you?"she said. I came down a few steps.I felt embarrassed as to how exactly to reply. Should I give my name?Or mention that I had come here with thepolice?The girl，however，gave me no time to make a decision. "Oh，well，"she said，"I can guess." She pulled off the little white woolen cap she was wearing and threw iton the ground.I could see her better now as she turned a little so that thelight fell on her. My first impression was of the Dutch dolls that
oil paintings y sisters used to playwith in my childhood.Her hair was black and cut in a straight bob and a bangacross the forehead.Her cheek-bones were high and her whole figure had aqueer modern angularity that was not，somehow，unattractive.She was notgood-looking-plain rather-but there was an intensity about her，aforcefulness that made her a person quite impossible to overlook.

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Really I could not say." "Perhaps we'd better have a word with her." "Now?" "If you please." "I will send her to you，"said Miss Merrion，rising."Please keep her asshort a time as possible.This is the morning coffee rush hour." The feline and Gingery Miss Merrion left the room. "Very refined，"remarked Inspector Kelsey.He mimicked the lady's mincingtone."Really I could not say." A plump girl，slightly out of breath，with dark hair
oil paintings ，rosy cheeks anddark eyes goggling with excitement，bounced in. "Miss Merrion sent me，"she announced breathlessly. "Miss Higley?" "Yes，that's me." "You knew Elizabeth Barnard?" "Oh，yes，I knew Betty.Isn't it awful?It's just too awful!I can't

One Moment in Time

One Moment in Time
precious time
Red Hat Girl
Red Nude painting
¡¡¡¡'Well?' I said. ¡¡¡¡'Well?' he queried half petulantly. 'It was not well. I was one of those seeds.' ¡¡¡¡He dropped his head to the scale and resumed the copying. I finished my work, and had opened the door to leave, when he spoke to me. ¡¡¡¡'Hump, if you will look on the west coast of the map of Norway you will see an indentation called Romsdal Fiord. I was born within a hundred miles of that stretch of water. But I was not born Norwegian. I am a Dane.
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My father and mother were Danes, and how they ever came to that bleak bight of land on the west coast I do not know. I never heard. Outside of that, there is nothing mysterious. They were poor people and unlettered. They came of generations of poor, unlettered people- peasants of the sea who sowed their sons on the waves as has been their custom since time began. There is no more to tell.' ¡¡¡¡'But there is,' I objected. 'It is still obscure to me.'

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Red Hat Girl
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Regatta At Argenteuil
Vermeer Girl with a Red Hat
except splendid. Why, with all that wonderful strength, have you not done something? There was nothing to stop you, nothing that could stop you. What was wrong? Did you lack ambition? Did you fall under temptation? What was the matter? What was the matter?' ¡¡¡¡He had lifted his eyes to me at the beginning of my outburst and followed me complacently until I had done and stood before him breathless and dismayed. He waited a moment, as though seeing
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where to begin, and then said: ¡¡¡¡'Hump, do you know the parable of the sower who went forth to sow? If you will remember, some of the seed fell upon stony places, where there was not much earth, and forthwith they sprung up because they had no deepness of earth. And when the sun was up, they were scorched; and because they had no root they withered away. And some fell among thorns, and the thorns sprung up and choked them.'

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Rembrandt The Jewish Bride
Return of the Prodigal Son
Samson And Delilah
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seemed to greaten the lines of mouth and eye and brow, seemed to give a largeness and completeness which otherwise the face would have lacked. ¡¡¡¡And so I caught myself standing idly and studying him. I cannot say how greatly the man had come to interest me. Who was he? What was he? How had he happened to be? All powers seemed his, all potentialities; why, then, was he no more than the obscure master of a seal-hunting schooner, with a reputation for frightful brutality among the men who hunted seals? ¡¡¡¡My curiosity burst from me in a flood of speech: ¡¡¡¡'Why is
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that you have not done great things in this world? With the power that is yours you might have risen to any height. Unpossessed of conscience or moral instinct, you might have mastered the world, broken it to your hand. And yet here you are, at the top of your life, where diminishing and dying begin, living an obscure and sordid existence hunting sea-animals for the satisfaction of woman's vanity and love of decoration, reveling in a piggishness, to use your own words, which is anything and everything

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to another journey to his bunk, he hooked Wolf Larsen's buttonhole with a greasy forefinger and vacuously proclaimed and reiterated: 'I got money. I got money, I tell yer, an' I'm a gentleman's son.' ¡¡¡¡Wolf Larsen was unaffected by the drink, yet he drank glass for glass, and, if anything, his glasses were fuller. There was no change in him. He did not appear even amused at the other's antics. ¡¡¡¡In the end, with loud protestations that he could lose like
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a gentleman, the cook's last money was staked on the game and lost. Whereupon he leaned his head on his hands and wept. Wolf Larsen looked curiously at him, as though about to probe and vivisect him, then changed his mind, as from the foregone conclusion that there was nothing there to probe. ¡¡¡¡'Hump,' he said to me, elaborately polite, 'kindly take Mr. Mugridge's arm and help him up on deck. He is not feeling very well. And tell Johansen to douse him with a few buckets of salt water,' he added in a lower tone, for my ear alone.

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also, that he was a remittance-man, and was paid to keep away from- England- 'p'yed 'an'somely, sir,' was the way he put it; 'p'yed 'an'somely to sling my 'ook an' keep slingin' it.' ¡¡¡¡I had brought the customary liquor-glasses, but Wolf Larsen frowned, shook his head, and signaled with his hands for me to bring the tumblers. These he filled two thirds full with undiluted whiskey,- 'a gentleman's drink,' quoth Thomas Mugridge,- and they clinked their
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glasses to the glorious game of Nap, lighted cigars, and fell to shuffling and dealing the cards. ¡¡¡¡They played for money. They increased the amounts of the bets. They drank whiskey, they drank it neat, and I fetched more. I do not know whether Wolf Larsen cheated,- a thing he was thoroughly capable of doing,- but he won steadily. The cook made repeated journeys to his bunk for money. Each time he performed the journey with greater swagger, but he never brought more than a few dollars at a time. He grew maudlin, familiar, could hardly see the cards or sit upright. As a preliminary

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¡¡¡¡His lids lifted lazily as he asked the question, and it seemed that the deeps were opening to me and that I was gazing into his soul. But it was an illusion. Far as it might have seemed, no man has ever seen very far into Wolf Larsen's soul, or seen it at all; of this I am convinced. It was a very lonely soul, I was to learn, that never unmasked, though at rare moments it played at doing so. ¡¡¡¡'I read immortality in your eyes,' I answered, dropping the 'sir'- an experiment, for I thought the intimacy of the conversation warranted it. ¡¡¡¡He took no notice. 'By that, I take it, you see
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something that is alive, but that necessarily does not have to live forever.' ¡¡¡¡'I read more than that,' I continued boldly. ¡¡¡¡'Then you read consciousness. You read the consciousness of life that it is alive; but still, no further away, no endlessness of life.' ¡¡¡¡How clearly he thought, and how well he expressed what he thought! From regarding me curiously, he turned his head and glanced out over the leaden sea to windward. A bleakness came into his eyes, and the lines of his mouth grew severe and harsh. He was evidently in a pessimistic mood.

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Then I told him the whole circumstance: how my clothes had been left to dry in the galley, and how, later, I was nearly beaten by the cook when I mentioned the matter. ¡¡¡¡He smiled at my recital. ¡¡¡¡'Pickings,' he concluded; 'Cooky's pickings. And don't you think your miserable life worth the price? Besides, consider it a lesson. You'll learn in time how to take care of your money for yourself. I suppose, up to now, your lawyer has done it for you, or your
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business agent.' ¡¡¡¡I could feel the quiet sneer through his words, but demanded, 'How can I get it back again?' ¡¡¡¡'That's your lookout. You haven't any lawyer or business agent now, so you'll have to depend on yourself. When you get a dollar, hang on to it. A man who leaves his money lying around the way you did deserves to lose it. Besides, you have sinned. You have no right to put temptation in the way of your fellow-creatures. You tempted Cooky, and he fell. You have placed his immortal soul in jeopardy. By the way, do you believe in the immortal soul?'

The Singing Butler

The Singing Butler
Rembrandt Painting
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'Humphrey, sir- Humphrey Van Weyden.' ¡¡¡¡'Age?' ¡¡¡¡'Thirty-five, sir.' ¡¡¡¡'That'll do. Go to the cook and learn your duties.' ¡¡¡¡And thus it was that I passed into a state of involuntary servitude to Wolf Larsen. He was stronger than I, that was all. But it was very unreal at the time. It is no less unreal now that I look back upon it. It will always be to me as a monstrous, inconceivable thing, a horrible nightmare. ¡¡¡¡'Hold on; don't go yet.' ¡¡¡¡I stopped
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obediently in my walk toward the galley. ¡¡¡¡'Johansen, call all hands. Now that we've everything cleaned up, we'll have the funeral and get the decks cleared of useless lumber.' ¡¡¡¡While Johansen was summoning the watch below, a couple of sailors, under the captain's direction, laid the canvas-swathed corpse upon a hatchcover. On each side the deck, against the rail, and bottoms up, were lashed a number of small boats. Several men picked up the hatch-cover with its ghastly freight, carried it to the lee side, and rested it on the boats,

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Jack Vettriano Painting
The Singing Butler
Rembrandt Painting
¡¡¡¡'Too much 'Frisco tanglefoot for the health of my crew!' Wolf Larsen shouted after. 'This one'- indicating me with his thumb- 'fancies sea-serpents and monkeys just now.' ¡¡¡¡The man on the Lady Mine laughed back through the megaphone. The pilot-boat plunged past. ¡¡¡¡'Give him- for me!' came a final cry, and the two men waved their arms in farewell. ¡¡¡¡I leaned despairingly over the rail, watching the trim little schooner swiftly increasing the bleak swee
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of ocean between us. And she would probably be in San Francisco in five or six hours! My head seemed bursting. There was an ache in my throat as though my heart were up in it. A curling wave struck the side and splashed salt spray on my lips. The wind puffed strongly, and the Ghost heeled far over, burying her lee rail. I could hear the water rushing down upon the deck. ¡¡¡¡When I turned around, a moment later, I saw the cabin-boy staggering to his feet. His face was ghastly white, twitching with suppressed pain. He looked very sick.

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famous art painting ¡¡¡¡WOLF LARSEN CEASED SWEARING as suddenly as he had begun. He relighted his cigar and glanced around. His eyes chanced upon the cook. ¡¡¡¡'Well, Cooky?' he began, with a suaveness that was cold and of the temper of steel. ¡¡¡¡'Yes, sir,' the cook eagerly interpolated, with appeasing and apologetic servility. ¡¡¡¡'Don't you think you've stretched that neck of yours just about enough? It's unhealthy, you know. The mate's gone, so I can't afford to lose you, too. You must be very, very careful of your health, Cooky. Understand?' ¡¡¡¡His last word, in striking contrast with the
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smoothness of his previous utterance, snapped like the lash of a whip. The cook quailed under it. ¡¡¡¡'Yes, sir,' was the meek reply, as the offending head disappeared into the galley. ¡¡¡¡At this rebuke the rest of the crew became uninterested and fell to work at one task or another. A number of men, however, who were lounging about a companionway between the galley and the hatch, and who did not seem to be sailors, continued talking in low tones with one another. These, I afterward learned, were the hunters, the men who shot the seals, and a very superior breed to common sailor-folk.

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and a penchant for forcible figures and phrases, I appreciated as no other listener, I dare say, the peculiar vividness and strength and absolute blasphemy of his metaphors. The cause of it all, as near as I could make out, was that the man, who was mate, had gone on a debauch before leaving San Francisco, and then had the poor taste to die at the beginning of the voyage and leave Wolf Larsen short-handed. ¡¡¡¡It should be unnecessary to state,
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at least to my friends, that I was shocked. Oaths and vile language of any sort had always been unutterably repellent to me. I felt a wilting sensation, a sinking at the heart, and, I might just as well say, a giddiness. To me death had always been invested with solemnity and dignity. It had been peaceful in its occurrence, sacred in its ceremonial. But death in its more sordid and terrible aspects was a thing with which I had been unacquainted till now. As I say, while I appreciated the power of the terrific denunciation that swept out of Wolf Larsen's mouth, I was inexpressibly shocked. But the dead man continued to grin unconcernedly with a sardonic humor, a cynical mockery and defiance. He was master of the situation.

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The captain, or Wolf Larsen, as men called him, ceased pacing, and gazed down at the dying man. So fierce had this final struggle become that the sailor paused in the act of flinging more water over him, and stared curiously, the canvas bucket partly tilted and dripping its contents to the deck. The dying man beat a tattoo on the hatch with his heels, straightened out his legs, stiffened in one great, tense effort, and rolled his head from side to side. Then the muscles relaxed, the head stopped rolling, and a sigh, as of profound relief, floated upward from his lips. The jaw dropped, the
oil painting
upper lip lifted, and two rows of tobacco-discolored teeth appeared. It seemed as though his features had frozen into a diabolical grin at the world he had left and outwitted. ¡¡¡¡Then a most surprising thing occurred. The captain broke loose upon the dead man like a thunderclap. Oaths rolled from his lips in a continuous stream. And they were not namby-pamby oaths, or mere expressions of indecency. Each word was a blasphemy, and there were many words. They crisped and crackled like electric sparks. I had never heard anything like it in my life, nor could I have conceived it possible. With a turn for literary expression myself,

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the night watch by rembrandt
the Night Watch
The Nut Gatherers
¡¡¡¡ "Bertram," said Henry Crawford, "I shall make a point of coming to Mansfield to hear you preach your first sermon. I shall come on purpose to encourage a young beginner. When is it to be? Miss Price, will not you join me in encouraging your cousin? Will not you engage to attend with your eyes steadily fixed on him the whole time-- as I shall do--not to lose a word; or only looking off just to note down any sentence preeminently beautiful?
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We will provide ourselves with tablets and a pencil. When will it be? You must preach at Mansfield, you know, that Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram may hear you." ¡¡¡¡ "I shall keep clear of you, Crawford, as long as I can," said Edmund; "for you would be more likely to disconcert me, and I should be more sorry to see you trying at it than almost any other man." ¡¡¡¡ "Will he not feel this?" thought Fanny. "No, he can feel nothing as he ought." ¡¡¡¡ The party being now all united, and the chief talkers attracting each other, she remained in tranquillity; and as a whist-table was formed after tea--formed really for the amusement of

the night watch by rembrandt

the night watch by rembrandt
the Night Watch
The Nut Gatherers
The Painter's Honeymoon
course he will still live at home, it will be all for his _menus_ _plaisirs_; and a sermon at Christmas and Easter, I suppose, will be the sum total of sacrifice." ¡¡¡¡ His sister tried to laugh off her feelings by saying, "Nothing amuses me more than the easy manner with which everybody settles the abundance of those who have a great deal less than themselves. You would look rather blank, Henry, if your _menus_ _plaisirs_ were to be limited to seven hundred a year." ¡¡¡¡ "Perhaps I might; but all _that_ you know is entirely comparative. Birthright and habit must settle the business.
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Bertram is certainly well off for a cadet of even a baronet's family. By the time he is four or five and twenty he will have seven hundred a year, and nothing to do for it." ¡¡¡¡ Miss Crawford _could_ have said that there would be a something to do and to suffer for it, which she could not think lightly of; but she checked herself and let it pass; and tried to look calm and unconcerned when the two gentlemen shortly afterwards joined them.

The Nut Gatherers

The Nut Gatherers
The Painter's Honeymoon
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The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
she trembled and blushed at her own daring. He was surprised; but after a few moments' silent consideration of her, replied in a calmer, graver tone, and as if the candid result of conviction, "I believe you are right. It was more pleasant than prudent. We were getting too noisy." And then turning the conversation, he would have engaged her on some other subject, but her answers were so shy and reluctant that he could not advance in any. ¡¡¡¡ Miss
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Crawford, who had been repeatedly eyeing Dr. Grant and Edmund, now observed, "Those gentlemen must have some very interesting point to discuss." ¡¡¡¡ "The most interesting in the world," replied her brother-- "how to make money; how to turn a good income into a better. Dr. Grant is giving Bertram instructions about the living he is to step into so soon. I find he takes orders in a few weeks. They were at it in the dining-parlour. I am glad to hear Bertram will be so well off. He will have a very pretty income to make ducks and drakes with, and earned without much trouble. I apprehend he will not have less than seven hundred a year. Seven hundred a year is a fine thing for a younger brother; and as

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"I am so glad to see the evergreens thrive!" said Fanny, in reply. "My uncle's gardener always says the soil here is better than his own, and so it appears from the growth of the laurels and evergreens in general. The evergreen! How beautiful, how welcome, how wonderful the evergreen! When one thinks of it, how astonishing a variety of nature! In some countries we know the tree that sheds its leaf is the variety, but that does not make it less amazing that the same soil and the same sun should nurture plants differing in the first rule and law of their existence. You will think
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me rhapsodising; but when I am out of doors, especially when I am sitting out of doors, I am very apt to get into this sort of wondering strain. One cannot fix one's eyes on the commonest natural production without finding food for a rambling fancy." ¡¡¡¡ "To say the truth," replied Miss Crawford, "I am something like the famous Doge at the court of Lewis XIV.; and may declare that I see no wonder in this shrubbery equal to seeing myself in it. If anybody had told me a year ago that this place would be my home, that I should be spending month after month here, as I have done, I certainly should not have believed them. I have now been here nearly five months; and, moreover, the quietest five months I ever passed."

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the powers, the failures, the inequalities of memory, than in any other of our intelligences. The memory is sometimes so retentive, so serviceable, so obedient; at others, so bewildered and so weak; and at others again, so tyrannic, so beyond control! We are, to be sure, a miracle every way; but our powers of recollecting and of forgetting do seem peculiarly past finding out." ¡¡¡¡ Miss Crawford, untouched and inattentive, had nothing to
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say; and Fanny, perceiving it, brought back her own mind to what she thought must interest. ¡¡¡¡ "It may seem impertinent in _me_ to praise, but I must admire the taste Mrs. Grant has shewn in all this. There is such a quiet simplicity in the plan of the walk! Not too much attempted!" ¡¡¡¡ "Yes," replied Miss Crawford carelessly, "it does very well for a place of this sort. One does not think of extent _here_; and between ourselves, till I came to Mansfield, I had not imagined a country parson ever aspired to a shrubbery, or anything of the kind."

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year, and venturing sometimes even to sit down on one of the benches now comparatively unsheltered, remaining there perhaps till, in the midst of some tender ejaculation of Fanny's on the sweets of so protracted an autumn, they were forced, by the sudden swell of a cold gust shaking down the last few yellow leaves about them, to jump up and walk for warmth. ¡¡¡¡ "This is pretty, very pretty," said Fanny, looking around her as they were thus sitting together one day; "every time I come into this shrubbery I am more struck with its growth and beauty. Three years ago, this was
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nothing but a rough hedgerow along the upper side of the field, never thought of as anything, or capable of becoming anything; and now it is converted into a walk, and it would be difficult to say whether most valuable as a convenience or an ornament; and perhaps, in another three years, we may be forgetting--almost forgetting what it was before. How wonderful, how very wonderful the operations of time, and the changes of the human mind!" And following the latter train of thought, she soon afterwards added: "If any one faculty of our nature may be called _more_ wonderful than the rest, I do think it is memory. There seems something more speakingly incomprehensible in

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respects to the old gentleman handsomely since he _was_ come; and besides, he did not think it would be fair by the others to have everybody run away." ¡¡¡¡ Fanny was just beginning to collect herself, and to feel that if she staid longer behind it might seem disrespectful, when this point was settled, and being commissioned with the brother and sister's apology, saw them preparing to go as she quitted the room herself to perform the dreadful duty of appearing before her uncle. ¡¡¡¡ Too soon did she find herself at the drawing-room door; and after pausing a moment for what she knew would not come, for a courage which the outside of no door had ever supplied to her, she turned the lock in desperation
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, and the lights of the drawing-room, and all the collected family, were before her. As she entered, her own name caught her ear. Sir Thomas was at that moment looking round him, and saying, "But where is Fanny? Why do not I see my little Fanny?"--and on perceiving her, came forward with a kindness which astonished and penetrated her, calling her his dear Fanny, kissing her affectionately, and observing with decided pleasure how much she was grown! Fanny knew not how to feel, nor where to look. She was quite oppressed. He had never been so kind, so _very_ kind to her in his life. His manner seemed changed, his voice was quick from the agitation of joy; and all

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unlooked-for premature arrival as a most untoward event, and without mercy wishing poor Sir Thomas had been twice as long on his passage, or were still in Antigua. ¡¡¡¡ The Crawfords were more warm on the subject than Mr. Yates, from better understanding the family, and judging more clearly of the mischief that must ensue. The ruin of the play was to them a certainty: they felt the total destruction of the scheme to be inevitably at hand; while Mr. Yates considered it only as a temporary interruption, a disaster for the evening, and could even suggest the possibility of th
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e rehearsal being renewed after tea, when the bustle of receiving Sir Thomas were over, and he might be at leisure to be amused by it. The Crawfords laughed at the idea; and having soon agreed on the propriety of their walking quietly home and leaving the family to themselves, proposed Mr. Yates's accompanying them and spending the evening at the Parsonage. But Mr. Yates, having never been with those who thought much of parental claims, or family confidence, could not perceive that anything of the kind was necessary; and therefore, thanking them, said, "he preferred remaining where he was, that he might pay his respects

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repeated question of, "Shall I go too? Had not I better go too? Will not it be right for me to go too?" but they were no sooner through the door than Henry Crawford undertook to answer the anxious inquiry, and, encouraging him by all means to pay his respects to Sir Thomas without delay, sent him after the others with delighted haste. ¡¡¡¡ Fanny was left with only the Crawfords and Mr. Yates. She had been quite overlooked by her cousins; and as her own opinion of her claims on Sir Thomas's affection was much too humble to give her any idea of classing herself with his children, she
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was glad to remain behind and gain a little breathing-time. Her agitation and alarm exceeded all that was endured by the rest, by the right of a disposition which not even innocence could keep from suffering. She was nearly fainting: all her former habitual dread of her uncle was returning, and with it compassion for him and for almost every one of the party on the development before him, with solicitude on Edmund's account indescribable. She had found a seat, where in excessive trembling she was enduring all these fearful thoughts, while the other three, no longer under any restraint, were giving vent to their feelings of vexation, lamenting over such an

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¡¡¡¡ Julia was the first to move and speak again. Jealousy and bitterness had been suspended: selfishness was lost in the common cause; but at the moment of her appearance, Frederick was listening with looks of devotion to Agatha's narrative, and pressing her hand to his heart; and as soon as she could notice this, and see that, in spite of the shock of her words, he still kept his station and retained her sister's hand, her wounded heart swelled again with injury, and looking as red as she had been white before, she turned out of the room, saying, "_I_ need not be afraid of appearing
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before him." ¡¡¡¡ Her going roused the rest; and at the same moment the two brothers stepped forward, feeling the necessity of doing something. A very few words between them were sufficient. The case admitted no difference of opinion: they must go to the drawing-room directly. Maria joined them with the same intent, just then the stoutest of the three; for the very circumstance which had driven Julia away was to her the sweetest support. Henry Crawford's retaining her hand at such a moment, a moment of such peculiar proof and importance, was worth ages of doubt and anxiety. She hailed it as an earnest of the most serious determination, and was equal even to encounter her father. They walked off, utterly heedless of Mr. Rushworth's

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Art Painting
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Gustav Klimt The Kiss
¡¡¡¡ A general silence succeeded. Each was thoughtful. Fanny made the first interruption by saying, "I wonder that I should be tired with only walking in this sweet wood; but the next time we come to a seat, if it is not disagreeable to you, I should be glad to sit down for a little while." ¡¡¡¡ "My dear Fanny," cried Edmund, immediately drawing her arm within his, "how thoughtless I have been! I hope you are not very tired. Perhaps," turning to Miss Crawford,
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"my other companion may do me the honour of taking an arm." ¡¡¡¡ "Thank you, but I am not at all tired." She took it, however, as she spoke, and the gratification of having her do so, of feeling such a connexion for the first time, made him a little forgetful of Fanny. "You scarcely touch me," said he. "You do not make me of any use. What a difference in the weight of a woman's arm from that of a man! At Oxford I have been a good deal used to have a man lean on me for the length of a street, and you are only a fly in the comparison." ¡¡¡¡ "I am really not tired, which I almost wonder at; for we must have walked at least a mile in this wood. Do not you think we have?" ¡¡¡¡ "Not half a mile," was his sturdy answer; for he was not yet so much in love as to measure distance, or reckon time, with feminine lawlessness.

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it is their duty to teach and recommend; and it will, I believe, be everywhere found, that as the clergy are, or are not what they ought to be, so are the rest of the nation." ¡¡¡¡ "Certainly," said Fanny, with gentle earnestness. ¡¡¡¡ "There," cried Miss Crawford, "you have quite convinced Miss Price already." ¡¡¡¡ "I wish I could convince Miss Crawford too." ¡¡¡¡ "I do not think you ever will," said she, with an arch smile; "I am just as much surprised now as I
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was at first that you should intend to take orders. You really are fit for something better. Come, do change your mind. It is not too late. Go into the law." ¡¡¡¡ "Go into the law! With as much ease as I was told to go into this wilderness." ¡¡¡¡ "Now you are going to say something about law being the worst wilderness of the two, but I forestall you; remember, I have forestalled you." ¡¡¡¡ "You need not hurry when the object is only to prevent my saying a _bon_ _mot_, for there is not the least wit in my nature. I am a very matter-of-fact, plain-spoken being, and may blunder on the borders of a repartee for half an hour together without striking it out."

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this chapel? The young Mrs. Eleanors and Mrs. Bridgets-- starched up into seeming piety, but with heads full of something very different--especially if the poor chaplain were not worth looking at--and, in those days, I fancy parsons were very inferior even to what they are now." ¡¡¡¡ For a few moments she was unanswered. Fanny coloured and looked at Edmund, but felt too angry for speech; and he needed a little recollection before he could say, "Your lively mind can hardly be serious even on serious subjects. You have given us an amusing sketch, and human nature cannot say it
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was not so. We must all feel _at_ _times_ the difficulty of fixing our thoughts as we could wish; but if you are supposing it a frequent thing, that is to say, a weakness grown into a habit from neglect, what could be expected from the _private_ devotions of such persons? Do you think the minds which are suffered, which are indulged in wanderings in a chapel, would be more collected in a closet?" ¡¡¡¡ "Yes, very likely. They would have two chances at least in their favour. There would be less to distract the attention from without, and it would not be tried so long."

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¡¡¡¡ "Very fine indeed," said Miss Crawford, laughing. "It must do the heads of the family a great deal of good to force all the poor housemaids and footmen to leave business and pleasure, and say their prayers here twice a day, while they are inventing excuses themselves for staying away." ¡¡¡¡ "_That_ is hardly Fanny's idea of a family assembling," said Edmund. "If the master and mistress do _not_ attend themselves, there must be more harm than good in the custom." ¡
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¡¡¡ "At any rate, it is safer to leave people to their own devices on such subjects. Everybody likes to go their own way--to chuse their own time and manner of devotion. The obligation of attendance, the formality, the restraint, the length of time--altogether it is a formidable thing, and what nobody likes; and if the good people who used to kneel and gape in that gallery could have foreseen that the time would ever come when men and women might lie another ten minutes in bed, when they woke with a headache, without danger of reprobation, because chapel was missed, they would have jumped with joy and envy. Cannot you imagine with what unwilling feelings the former belles of the house of Rushworth did many a time repair to

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¡¡¡¡ Mrs. Rushworth began her relation. "This chapel was fitted up as you see it, in James the Second's time. Before that period, as I understand, the pews were only wainscot; and there is some reason to think that the linings and cushions of the pulpit and family seat were only purple cloth; but this is not quite certain. It is a handsome chapel, and was formerly in constant use both morning and evening. Prayers were always read in it by the domestic chaplain,
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within the memory of many; but the late Mr. Rushworth left it off." ¡¡¡¡ "Every generation has its improvements," said Miss Crawford, with a smile, to Edmund. ¡¡¡¡ Mrs. Rushworth was gone to repeat her lesson to Mr. Crawford; and Edmund, Fanny, and Miss Crawford remained in a cluster together. ¡¡¡¡ "It is a pity," cried Fanny, "that the custom should have been discontinued. It was a valuable part of former times. There is something in a chapel and chaplain so much in character with a great house, with one's ideas of what such a household should be! A whole family assembling regularly for the purpose of prayer is fine!"

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"In marriage especially. With all due respect to such of the present company as chance to be married, my dear Mrs. Grant, there is not one in a hundred of either sex who is not taken in when they marry. Look where I will, I see that it _is_ so; and I feel that it _must_ be so, when I consider that it is, of all transactions, the one in which people expect most from others, and are least honest themselves." ¡¡¡¡ "Ah! You have been in a bad school for matrimony,
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in Hill Street." ¡¡¡¡ "My poor aunt had certainly little cause to love the state; but, however, speaking from my own observation, it is a manoeuvring business. I know so many who have married in the full expectation and confidence of some one particular advantage in the connexion, or accomplishment, or good quality in the person, who have found themselves entirely deceived, and been obliged to put up with exactly the reverse. What is this but a take in?"

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¡¡¡¡ "Why, as to that, Mr. Rushworth is a very good sort of young man, and it is a great match for her." ¡¡¡¡ "But Miss Bertram does not care three straws for him; _that_ is your opinion of your intimate friend. _I_ do not subscribe to it. I am sure Miss Bertram is very much attached to Mr. Rushworth. I could see it in her eyes, when he was mentioned. I think too well of Miss Bertram to suppose she would ever give her hand without her heart." ¡¡¡¡ "Mary
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, how shall we manage him?" ¡¡¡¡ "We must leave him to himself, I believe. Talking does no good. He will be taken in at last." ¡¡¡¡ "But I would not have him _taken_ _in_; I would not have him duped; I would have it all fair and honourable." ¡¡¡¡ "Oh dear! let him stand his chance and be taken in. It will do just as well. Everybody is taken in at some period or other." ¡¡¡¡ "Not always in marriage, dear Mary."

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¡¡¡¡ "Oh yes! I like Julia best." ¡¡¡¡ "But do you really? for Miss Bertram is in general thought the handsomest." ¡¡¡¡ "So I should suppose. She has the advantage in every feature, and I prefer her countenance; but I like Julia best; Miss Bertram is certainly the handsomest, and I have found her the most agreeable, but I shall always like Julia best, because you order me." ¡¡¡¡ "I shall not talk to you, Henry, but I know you _will_ like her best at last." ¡¡¡¡ "Do not I tell you that I like her best _at_ _first_?" ¡¡¡¡ "And besides, Miss Bertram is engaged. Remember that, my dear brother. Her c
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hoice is made." ¡¡¡¡ "Yes, and I like her the better for it. An engaged woman is always more agreeable than a disengaged. She is satisfied with herself. Her cares are over, and she feels that she may exert all her powers of pleasing without suspicion. All is safe with a lady engaged: no harm can be done."

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¡¡¡¡ "Well, Lady Bertram," said Mrs. Norris, moving to go, "I can only say that my sole desire is to be of use to your family: and so, if Sir Thomas should ever speak again about my taking Fanny, you will be able to say that my health and spirits put it quite out of the question; besides that, I really should not have a bed to give her, for I must keep a spare room for a friend." ¡¡¡¡ Lady Bertram repeated enough of this conversation to her husband to convince him how much
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he had mistaken his sister-in-law's views; and she was from that moment perfectly safe from all expectation, or the slightest allusion to it from him. He could not but wonder at her refusing to do anything for a niece whom she had been so forward to adopt; but, as she took early care to make him, as well as Lady Bertram, understand that whatever she possessed was designed for their family, he soon grew reconciled to a distinction which, at the same time that it was advantageous and complimentary to them, would enable him better to provide for Fanny himself.

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parish, that cannot be expected from me. It is unknown how much was consumed in our kitchen by odd comers and goers. At the White House, matters must be better looked after. I _must_ live within my income, or I shall be miserable; and I own it would give me great satisfaction to be able to do rather more, to lay by a little at the end of the year." ¡¡¡¡ "I dare say you will. You always do, don't you?" ¡¡¡¡ "My object, Lady Bertram, is to be of use to those that
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come after me. It is for your children's good that I wish to be richer. I have nobody else to care for, but I should be very glad to think I could leave a little trifle among them worth their having." ¡¡¡¡ "You are very good, but do not trouble yourself about them. They are sure of being well provided for. Sir Thomas will take care of that." ¡¡¡¡ "Why, you know, Sir Thomas's means will be rather straitened if the Antigua estate is to make such poor returns." ¡¡¡¡ "Oh! _that_ will soon be settled. Sir Thomas has been writing about it, I know."

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may
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Head of Christ
education in itself. Miss Lee taught her French, and heard her read the daily portion of history; but he recommended the books which charmed her leisure hours, he encouraged her taste, and corrected her judgment: he made reading useful by talking to her of what she read, and heightened its attraction by judicious praise. In return for such services she loved him better than anybody in the world except William: her heart was divided between the two.¡¡¡¡CHAPTER III ¡¡¡¡ The first event of any importance in the family was the death of Mr. Norris, which happened when Fanny
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was about fifteen, and necessarily introduced alterations and novelties. Mrs. Norris, on quitting the Parsonage, removed first to the Park, and afterwards to a small house of Sir Thomas's in the village, and consoled herself for the loss of her husband by considering that she could do very well without him; and for her reduction of income by the evident necessity of stricter economy. ¡¡¡¡ The living was hereafter for Edmund; and, had his uncle died a few years sooner, it would have been duly given to some friend to hold till he were old enough for orders. But Tom's extravagance had, previous to that event, been so great as to render a different disposal of the next presentation necessary, and the younger

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such charming things of what William was to do, and be hereafter, in consequence of his profession, as made her gradually admit that the separation might have some use. Edmund's friendship never failed her: his leaving Eton for Oxford made no change in his kind dispositions, and only afforded more frequent opportunities of proving them. Without any display of doing more than the rest, or any fear of doing too much, he was always true to
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her interests, and considerate of her feelings, trying to make her good qualities understood, and to conquer the diffidence which prevented their being more apparent; giving her advice, consolation, and encouragement. ¡¡¡¡ Kept back as she was by everybody else, his single support could not bring her forward; but his attentions were otherwise of the highest importance in assisting the improvement of her mind, and extending its pleasures. He knew her to be clever, to have a quick apprehension as well as good sense, and a fondness for reading, which, properly directed, must be an

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easier to Sir Thomas's conscience, he could not but feel it to be an act of injustice, and he earnestly tried to impress his eldest son with the same conviction, in the hope of its producing a better effect than anything he had yet been able to say or do. ¡¡¡¡ "I blush for you, Tom," said he, in his most dignified manner; "I blush for the expedient which I am driven on, and I trust I may pity your feelings as a brother on the occasion. You have robbed Edmund for ten,
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twenty, thirty years, perhaps for life, of more than half the income which ought to be his. It may hereafter be in my power, or in yours (I hope it will), to procure him better preferment; but it must not be forgotten that no benefit of that sort would have been beyond his natural claims on us, and that nothing can, in fact, be an equivalent for the certain advantage which he is now obliged to forego through the urgency of your debts."

Venus and Cupid

Venus and Cupid
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¡¡¡¡Feeling very much out of sorts herself, Jo hurried into the parlour to find Beth sobbing over Pip, the canary, who lay dead in the cage, with his little claws pathetically extended, as if imploring the food for want of which he had died. ¡¡¡¡`It's all my fault - I forgot him - there isn't a seed or a drop left. O Pip! O Pip! how could I be so cruel to you?' cried Beth, taking the poor thing in her hands, and trying to restore him. ¡¡¡¡Jo peeped into his half-open eye, felt his little heart, and finding him stiff and cold shook her bead, and offered her domino box for a coffin. ¡¡¡¡`Put him in the oven
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, and maybe he will get warm and revive,' said Amy, hopefully. ¡¡¡¡`He's been starved, and he shan't be baked, now he's dead. I'll make him a shroud, and he shall be buried in the garden; and I'll never have another bird, never, my Pip! for I'm too bad to own one,' murmured Beth, sitting on the floor with her pet folded in her hands. ¡¡¡¡ ¡¡¡¡`The funeral shall be this afternoon, and we will all go. Now, don't cry, Betty; it's a pity, but nothing goes right this week, and Pip has had the worst of the experiment. Make the shroud, and lay him in my box; and, after the dinner party, we'll have a nice little funeral,' said Jo, beginning to feel as if she had undertaken a good deal.

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¡¡¡¡`Don't try too many messes, Jo, for you can't make anything but gingerbread and molasses candy fit to eat. I wash my hands of the dinner-party; and since you have asked Laurie on your own responsibility, you may just take care of him.' ¡¡¡¡`I don't want you to do anything but be civil to him, and help with the pudding. You'll give me your advice if I get in a muddle, won't you?' asked Jo, rather hurt. ¡¡¡¡`Yes; but I don't know much, except about bread, and a few trifles. You had better ask Mother's leave before you order anything,' returned Meg, prudently. ¡¡¡¡`Of course I shall; I'm not a fool,' and Jo went off in a huff at the doubts expressed of her powers. ¡¡¡¡`Get what you like, and don't disturb me;
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I'm going out to dinner, and can't worry about things at home,' said Mrs. March, when Jo spoke to her. ¡¡¡¡`I never enjoyed housekeeping, and I'm going to take a vacation today, and read, and write, go visiting, and amuse myself.' ¡¡¡¡The unusual spectacle of her busy mother rocking comfortably and reading, early in the morning, made Jo feel as if some natural phenomenon had occurred; for an eclipse, an earthquake, or a volcanic eruption would hardly have seemed stranger. ¡¡¡¡`Everything is out of sorts somehow,' she said to herself, going downstairs. `There's Beth crying; that's a sure sign that something is wrong with this family. If Amy is bothering, I'll shake her.'

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blemishes I read a little history. A burnt-offering has been made of vanity; this hardened palm has earned something better than blisters; and I'm sure the sewing done by these pricked fingers will last a long time, so much goodwill went into the stitches. Meg, my dear, I value the womanly skill which keeps home happy more than white hands or fashionable accomplishments. I'm proud to shake this good, industrious little hand, and hope I shall not soon be
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asked to give it away." ¡¡¡¡If Meg had wanted a reward for hours of patient labour, she received it in the hearty pressure of her father's hand, and the approving smile he gave her. ¡¡¡¡"What about Jo? Please say something nice; for she has tried so hard, and been so very, very good to me," said Beth, in her father's ear. He laughed, and looked across at the tall girl who sat opposite, with an unusually mild expression in her brown face. ¡¡¡¡"In spite of the curly crop, I don't see the "son Jo" whom I left a year ago," said Mr. March. "I see a young lady who pins her collar straight, laces her boots neatly, and neither

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¡¡¡¡"I think it's been a pretty hard one," observed Amy, watching the light shine on her ring, with thoughtful eyes. ¡¡¡¡"I'm glad it's over, because we've got you back," whispered Beth, who sat on her father's knee. ¡¡¡¡"Rather a rough road for you to travel, my little pilgrims, especially the latter part of it. But you have got on bravely; and I think the burdens are in a fair way to tumble off very soon," said Mr. March, looking with fatherly satisfaction at the four
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young faces gathered round him. ¡¡¡¡"How do you know? Did Mother tell you?" asked Jo. ¡¡¡¡"Not much; straws show which way the wind blows, and I've made several discoveries today." ¡¡¡¡"Oh, tell us what they are!" cried Meg, who sat beside him. ¡¡¡¡"Here is one!" and taking up the hand which lay on the ann of his chair, he pointed to the roughened forefinger, a burn on the back, and two or three little hard spots on the palm. ¡¡¡¡"I remember a time when this hand was white and smooth, and your first care was to keep it so. It was very pretty then, but to me it is much prettier now - for in these seeming

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I've thought a great deal lately about my "bundle of naughties", and being selfish is the largest one on it; so I'm going to try hard to cure it, if I can. Beth isn't selfish, and that's the reason everyone loves her and feels so bad at the thought of losing her. People wouldn't feel half so bad about me if I was sick, and I don't deserve to have them; but I'd like to be loved and missed by a great many friends, so I'm going to try and be like Beth all I can. I'm
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' ¡¡¡¡`Yes; but I have more faith in the corner of the big closet. Wear your ring, dear, and do your best; I think you will prosper, for the sincere wish to be good is half the battle. Now I must go back to Beth. Keep up your heart, little daughter, and we will soon have you home again.' ¡¡¡¡That evening, while Meg was writing to her father, to report the traveller's safe arrival, Jo slipped upstairs into Beth's room, and, finding her mother in her usual place, stood a minute twisting her fingers in her hair, with a worried gesture and an undecided look.

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¡¡¡¡`I wanted to speak to you about this, but I forgot it. Aunt gave me the ring today; she called me to her and kissed me, and put it on my finger, and said I was a credit to her, and she'd like to keep me always. She gave me that funny guard to keep the turquoise on, as it's too big. I'd like to wear them, Mother; can I?' ¡¡¡¡`They are very pretty, but I think you're rather too young for such ornaments, Amy,' said Mrs. March, looking at the plump little hand,
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with the band of sky-blue stones on the forefinger, and the quaint guard, formed of two tiny golden hands clasped together. ¡¡¡¡`I'll try not to be vain,' said Amy. `I don't think I like it only because it's so pretty; but I want to wear it as the girl in the story wore her bracelets, to remind me of something.' ¡¡¡¡`Do you mean Aunt March?' asked her mother, laughing. ¡¡¡¡`No, to remind me not to be selfish.' Amy looked so earnest and sincere about it, that her mother stopped laughing, and listened respectfully to the little plan.

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On the contrary, I like it very much, dear,' looking from the footstool to the well-worn little book, and the lovely picture with its garland of evergreen. `It is an excellent plan to have some place where we can go to be quiet, when things vex or grieve us. There are a good many hard times in this life of ours, but we can always bear them if we ask help in the right way. I think my little girl is learning this?' ¡¡¡¡`Yes, Mother; and when I go home I mean to have
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a corner in the big closet to put my books, and the copy of that picture which I've tried to make. The woman's face is not good - it's too beautiful for me to draw - but the baby is done better, and I love it very much. I like to think he was a little child once, for then I don't seem so far away, and that helps me.' ¡¡¡¡As Amy pointed to the smiling Christ-child on His mother's knee, Mrs. March saw something on the lifted hand that made her smile. She said nothing, but Amy understood the look, and, after a minute's pause, she added, gravely

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could not bear to be reminded of the young neighbour who used to make the twilight pleasant for him. Everyone missed Beth. The milkman, baker, grocer, and butcher inquired how she did; poor Mrs. Hummel came to beg pardon for her thoughtlessness, and to get a shroud for Minna; the neighbours sent all sorts of comforts and good wishes, and even those who knew her best, were surprised to find how many friends shy little Beth had made. ¡¡¡¡Meanwhile she lay on her bed with old Joanna at her side, for even in her wanderings she did not forget her forlorn protégée. She longed for her cats,
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but would not have them brought, lest they should get sick; and, in her quiet hours, she was full of anxiety about Jo. She sent loving messages to Amy, bade them tell her mother that she would write soon; and often begged for pencil and paper to try and say a word, that Father might not think she had neglected him. But soon even these intervals of consciousness ended, and she lay hour after hour, tossing to and fro, with incoherent words on her lips, or sank into a heavy sleep which brought her no refreshment. Dr. Bangs came twice a day, Hannah sat up at night, Meg kept a telegram in her desk all ready to send off at any minute, and Jo never stirred from Beth's side.

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¡¡¡¡How dark the days seemed now, how sad and lonely the house, and how heavy were the hearts of the sisters as they worked and waited, while the shadow of death hovered over the once happy home! Then it was that Margaret, sitting alone with tears dropping often on her work, felt how rich she had been in things more precious than any luxuries money could buy - in love, protection, peace, and health, the real blessings of life. Then it was that Jo, living in the darkened room with that suffering little sister always before her eyes, and that pathetic voice sounding in her ears, learned to
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see the beauty and the sweetness of Beth's nature, to feel how deep and tender a place she filled in all hearts, and to acknowledge the worth of Beth's unselfish ambition to live for others, and make home happy by the exercise of those simple virtues which all may possess, and which all should love and value more than talent, wealth, or beauty. And Amy, in her exile, longed eagerly to be at home, that she might work for Beth, feeling now that no service would be hard or irksome, and remembering, with regretful grief, how many neglected tasks those willing hands had done for her. Laurie haunted the house like a restless ghost, and Mr. Laurence locked the grand piano, because he

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house, feeling very anxious and a little guilty when she wrote letters in which no mention was made of Beth's illness. She could not think it right to deceive her mother, but she had been bidden to mind Hannah, and Hannah wouldn't hear of `Mrs. March bein' told, and worried just for sech a trifle'. Jo devoted herself to Beth day and night; not a hard task, for Beth was very patient, and bore her pain uncomplainingly, as long as she could control herself. But there
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came a time when during the fever fits she began to talk in a hoarse, broken voice, to play on the coverlet, as if on her beloved little piano, and try to sing with a throat so swollen that there was no music left; a time when she did not know the familiar faces round her, but addressed them by wrong names, and called imploringly for her mother. Then Jo grew frightened, Meg begged to be allowed to write the truth, and even Hannah said she `would think of it, though there was no danger yet'. A letter from Washington added to their trouble, for Mr. March had had a relapse, and could not think of coming home for a long while.

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Father is much better,' replied Jo, trying to keep sober. ¡¡¡¡`Oh, is he? Well, that won't last long, I fancy; March never had any stamina,' was the cheerful reply. ¡¡¡¡`Hah, ha! never say die, take a pinch of snuff, good-bye, good-bye!' squalled Polly, dancing on her perch, and clawing at the old lady's cap as Laurie tweaked him in the rear. ¡¡¡¡`Hold your tongue, you disrespectful old bird! and, Jo, you'd better go at once; it isn't proper to be gadding about so late with a rattle-pated boy like--' ¡¡¡¡`Hold your tongue, you disrespectful old bird!' cried Polly, tumbling off the chair with a bounce,
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and running to peck the `rattle-pated boy', who was shaking with laughter at the last speech. ¡¡¡¡`I don't think I can bear it, but I'll try,' thought Amy, as she was left alone with Aunt March. ¡¡¡¡`Get along, you fright!' screamed Polly; and at that rude speech Amy could not restrain a sniff. ¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡chapter 18 Dark Days ¡¡¡¡Beth did have the fever, and was much sicker than anyone but Hannah and the doctor suspected. The girls knew nothing about illness, and Mr. Laurence was not allowed to see her, so Hannah had everything all her own way, and busy Dr. Bangs did his best, but left a good deal to the excellent nurse. Meg stayed at home, lest she should infect the Kings, and kept

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Marc Chagall Painting
Henri Matisse Painting
Van Gogh Painting
¡¡¡¡`Didn't want anyone to know.' ¡¡¡¡`You're the oddest fellow I ever saw. How many did you have out?' ¡¡¡¡Jo looked at her friend as if she did not understand him; then began to laugh, as if mightily amused at something. ¡¡¡¡`There are two which I want to have come out, but I must wait a week.' ¡¡¡¡`What are you laughing at? You are up to some mischief, Jo,' said Laurie, looking mystified. ¡¡¡¡`So are you. What were you doing, sir, up in that billiard saloon?' ¡¡¡¡`
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Begging your pardon, ma'am, it wasn't a billiard saloon, but a gymnasium, and I was taking a lesson in fencing.' ¡¡¡¡`I'm glad of that.' ¡¡¡¡`Why?' ¡¡¡¡`You can teach me, and then when we play Hamlet, you can be Laertes, and we'll make a fine thing of the fencing scene.' ¡¡¡¡Laurie burst out with a hearty boy's laugh, which made several passers-by smile in spite of themselves. ¡¡¡¡`I'll teach you, whether we play Hamlet or not; it's grand fun, and will straighter, you up capitally. But I don't believe that was your reason for saying "I'm glad", in that decided way; was it, now?' ¡¡¡¡`No, I was glad that you were not in the saloon, because I hope you never go to such places. Do you?' ¡¡¡¡`Not often.' ¡¡¡¡`I wish you wouldn't.'

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Van Gogh Sunflower
Edward Hopper Painting
Mary Cassatt painting
Jack Vettriano Painting
and walked away as rapidly as she came. This manoeuvre she repeated several times, to the great amusement of a black-eyed young gentleman lounging in the window of the building opposite. On returning for the third time, Jo gave herself a shake, pulled her hat over her eyes, and walked up the stairs, looking as if she were going to have all her teeth out. ¡¡¡¡There was a dentist's sign, among others which adorned the entrance, and, after staring a minute at the pair of artificial jaws which slowly opened and shut to draw attention to a fine set of teeth, the young gentleman
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put on his coat, took his hat, and went down to post himself in the opposite doorway, saying, with a smile and a shiver: ¡¡¡¡`It's like her to come alone, but if she has a bad time she'll need someone to help her home.' ¡¡¡¡In ten minutes Jo came running downstairs with a very red face, and the general appearance of a person who had just passed through a trying ordeal of some sort. ¡¡¡¡When she saw the young gentleman she looked anything but pleased, and passed him with a nod; but he followed, asking with an air of sympathy: ¡¡¡¡`Did you have a bad time?' ¡¡¡¡`Not very.' ¡¡¡¡`You got through quickly.' ¡¡¡¡`Yes, thank goodness!' ¡¡¡¡`Why did you go alone?'

The Singing Butler

The Singing Butler
Henri Matisse Painting
Van Gogh Painting
Van Gogh Sunflower
kitchen, which hung against the wall. In it she kept her papers and a few books, safely shut away from Scrabble, who, being likewise of a literary turn, was fond of making a circulating library of such books as were left in his way, by eating the leaves. From this tin receptacle, Jo produced another manuscript; and, putting both in her pocket, crept quietly downstairs, leaving her friends to nibble her pens and taste her ink. ¡¡¡¡She put on her hat and jacket as noiselessly
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as possible, and, going to the back entry window, got out upon the roof of a low porch, swung herself down to the grassy bank, and took a roundabout way to the road. Once there, she composed herself, hailed a passing omnibus, and rolled away to town, looking very merry and mysterious. ¡¡¡¡If anyone had been watching her he would have thought her movements decidedly peculiar; for, on alighting, she went off at a great pace till she reached a certain number in a certain busy street; having found the place with some difficulty, she went into the doorway, looked up the dirty stairs, and, after standing stock still a minute, suddenly dived into the street,

picture of the last supper

picture of the last supper
leonardo da vinci last supper painting
leonardo da vinci mona lisa
leonardo da vinci painting
¡¡¡¡`Mr. President and gentlemen,' he began, assuming a parliamentary attitude and tone, `I wish to propose the admission of a new member - one who highly deserves the honour, would be deeply grateful for it, and would add immensely to the spirit of the club, the literary value of the paper, and be no end jolly and nice. I propose Mr. Theodore Laurence as an honorary member of the P.C. Come now, do have him.' ¡¡¡¡Jo's sudden change of tone made the girls laugh;
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but all looked rather anxious, and no one said a word, as Snodgrass took his seat. ¡¡¡¡`We'll put it to the vote,' said the President. `All in favour of this motion please to manifest it by saying "Ay".' ¡¡¡¡A loud response from Snodgrass, followed, to everybody's surprise, by a timid one from Beth. ¡¡¡¡`Contrary minded say "No".' ¡¡¡¡Meg and Amy were contrary minded; and Mr. Winkle rose to say, with great eloquence. `We don't wish any boys; they only joke and bounce about. This is a ladies' club, and we wish to be private and proper.' ¡¡¡¡`I'm afraid he'll laugh at our paper, and make fun of us afterwards,' observed Pickwick, pulling the little curl on her forehead, as she always did when doubtful.

leonardo da vinci last supper painting

leonardo da vinci last supper painting
leonardo da vinci mona lisa
leonardo da vinci painting
leonardo da vinci the last supper
A weekly meeting will be held at Kitchen Place, to teach young ladies how to cook. Hannah Brown will preside; and all are invited to attend. ¡¡¡¡The dustpan society will meet on Wednesday next, and parade in the upper story of the Club House. All members to appear in uniform and shoulder their brooms at nine precisely. ¡¡¡¡Mrs Beth Bouncer Will open her new assortment of Doll's Millinery next week. The latest Paris Fashions have arrived, and orders are respectfully solicited. ¡¡¡¡A new play will appear at the Barnville Theatre, in the course of a few weeksh will surpass anything
oil painting
ever seen on the American stage. "The Greek Slave, or Constantine the Avenger", is the name of this thrilling drama! ¡¡¡¡HINTS. ¡¡¡¡If S. P. didn't use so much soap on his hands, he wouldn't always be late at breakfast. A. S. is requested not to whistle in the street. T. T. please don't forget Amy's napkin. A. W. must not fret because his dress has not nine tucks. ¡¡¡¡WEEKLY REPORT. ¡¡¡¡Meg - Good. ¡¡¡¡Jo - Bad. ¡¡¡¡Beth - Very good. ¡¡¡¡Amy - Middling. ¡¡¡¡As the President finished reading the paper (which I beg leave to assure my readers is a bona fide copy of one written by bona fide girls once upon a time), a round of applause followed and then Mr. Snodgrass rose to make a proposition.

michelangelo painting

michelangelo painting
oil painting artist
nude oil painting
oil painting from picture
¡¡¡¡`It isn't low-necked, and it doesn't sweep enough, but it will have to do. My blue house-dress looks so well, turned and freshly trimmed, that I feel as if I'd got a new one. My silk sacque isn't a bit the fashion, and my bonnet doesn't look like Sallie's; I didn't like to say anything, but I was sadly disappointed in my umbrella. I told Mother black, with a white handle, but she forgot and bought a green one, with a yellowish handle. It's strong and neat, so
oil painting
I ought not to complain, but I know I shall feel ashamed of it beside Annie's silk one with a gold top,' sighed Meg, surveying the little umbrella with great disfavour. ¡¡¡¡`Change it,' advised Jo. ¡¡¡¡`I won't be so silly, or hurt Marmee's feelings, when she took so much pains to get my things. It's a nonsensical notion of mine, and I'm not going to give up to it. My silk stockings and two pairs of new gloves are my comfort. You are a dear, to lend me yours, Jo. I feel so rich, and sort of elegant, with two new pairs, and the old ones cleaned up for common'; and Meg took a refreshing peep at her glove box.

claude monet painting

claude monet painting
mona lisa painting
canvas painting
animal painting
¡¡¡¡`What did Mother give you out of the treasure-box?' asked Amy, who had not been present at the opening of a certain cedar chest, in which Mrs. March kept a few relics of past splendour as gifts for her girls when the proper time came. ¡¡¡¡`A pair of silk stockings, that pretty carved fan, and a lovely blue sash. I wanted the violet silk; but there isn't time to make it over, so I must be contented with my old tarlatan.' ¡¡¡¡`It will look nicely over my new muslin skirt, and the sash will set it off beautifully. I wish I hadn't smashed my coral bracelet, for you might have had it,' said Jo, who loved to
oil painting
give and lend, but whose possessions were usually too dilapidated to be of much use. `There is a lovely old-fashioned pearl set in the treasure-box; but Mother said real flowers were the prettiest ornament for a young girl, and Laurie promised to send me all I want,' replied Meg. `Now, let me see; there's my new grey walking-suit - just curl up the feather in my hat, Beth - then my poplin, for Sunday, and the small party - it looks heavy for spring, doesn't it? The violet silk would be so nice; oh dear.' ¡¡¡¡`Never mind; you've got the tarlatan for the big party, and you always look like an angel in white,' said Amy, brooding over

michelangelo painting

michelangelo painting
oil painting artist
nude oil painting
oil painting from picture
¡¡¡¡`I do think it was the most fortunate thing in the world that those children should have the measles just now,' said Meg, one April day, as she stood packing the "go abroady" trunk in her room, surrounded by her sisters. ¡¡¡¡`And so nice of Annie Moffat not to forget her promise. A whole fortnight of fun will be regularly splendid,' replied Jo, looking like a windmill, as she folded skirts, with her long arms. ¡¡¡¡`And such lovely weather; I'm so glad of that,'
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added Beth, tidily sorting neck and hair ribbons in her best box, lent for the great occasion. ¡¡¡¡`I wish I was going to have a fine time, and wear all these nice things,' said Amy, with her mouth full of pins, as she artistically replenished her sister's cushion. ¡¡¡¡`I wish you were all going; but as you can't, I shall keep my adventures to tell you when I come back. I'm sure it's the least I can do, when you have been so kind, lending me things, and helping me get ready,' said Meg, glancing round the room at the very simple outfit, which seemed nearly perfect in their eyes.

Famous painting

Famous painting
Art Painting
Modern Art Painting
and best wishes, I remain, your grateful friend and humble servant, ¡¡¡¡`JAMES LAURENCE.' ¡¡¡¡`There, Beth, that's an honour to be proud of, I'm sure. Laurie told me how fond Mr. Laurence used to be of the child who died, and how he kept all her little things carefully. Just think, he's given you her piano. That comes of having big blue eyes, and loving music,' said Jo, trying to soothe Beth, who trembled, and looked more excited than she had ever been before.
oil painting
¡¡¡¡`See the cunning brackets to hold candles, and the nice green silk, puckered up, with a gold rose in the middle, and the pretty rack and stool, all complete,' added Meg, opening the instrument and displaying its beauties. ¡¡¡¡`"Your humble servant, James Laurence"; only think of his writing that to you. I'll tell the girls. They'll think it's splendid,' said Amy, much impressed by the note.

Modern Art Painting

Modern Art Painting
Gustav Klimt The Kiss
Gustav Klimt Painting
¡¡¡¡`For me?' gasped Beth, holding on to Jo, and feeling as if she should tumble down, it was such an overwhelming thing altogether. ¡¡¡¡`Yes; all for you, my precious! Isn't it splendid of him? Don't you think he's the dearest old man in the world? Here's the key in the letter. We didn't open it, but we are dying to know what he says,' cried Jo, hugging her sister, and offering the note. ¡¡¡¡`You read it! I can't! I feel so queer! Oh, it is too lovely!' and Beth hid her face
oil painting
in Jo's apron, quite upset by her present. ¡¡¡¡Jo opened the paper, and began to laugh, for the first words she saw were: ¡¡¡¡`MISS MARCH: ¡¡¡¡`Dear Madam' - ¡¡¡¡`How nice it sounds! I wish someone would write to me so!' said Amy, who thought the old-fashioned address very elegant. ¡¡¡¡`I have had many pairs of slippers in my life, but I never had any that suited me so well as yours,' continued Jo. `Heart's ease is my favourite flower, and these will always remind me of the gentle giver. I like to pay my debts; so I know you will allow `the old gentleman' to send you something which once belonged to the little granddaughter he lost. With hearty thanks

Gustav Klimt Painting

Gustav Klimt Painting
William Bouguereau
The Birth of Venus
Marc Chagall Painting
¡¡¡¡When this excitement was over, Beth waited to see what would happen. All that day passed, and a part of the next, before any acknowledgement arrived, and she was beginning to fear she had offended her crotchety friend. On the afternoon of the second day, she went out to do an errand, and give poor Joanna, the invalid doll, her daily exercise. As she came up the street, on her return, she saw three, yes, four, heads popping in and out of the parlour windows
oil painting
, and the moment they saw her, several hands were waved, and several joyful voices screamed: ¡¡¡¡`Here's a letter from the old gentleman! Come quick, and read it!' ¡¡¡¡`Oh, Beth, he's sent you--' began Amy, gesticulating with unseemly energy; but she got no further, for Jo quenched her by slamming down the window. ¡¡¡¡Beth hurried on in a flutter of suspense. At the door, her sisters seized and bore her to the parlour in a triumphal procession, all pointing, and all saying at once, `Look there! look there!' Beth did look, and turned pale with delight and surprise; for there stood a little cabinet piano, with a letter lying on the glossy lid, directed, like a signboard, to `Miss Elizabeth March'.

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
American Day Dream
Biblis painting
Boulevard des Capucines
Charity painting
¡¡¡¡`I am not sure, but I think it was because his son, Laurie's father, married an Italian lady, a musician, which displeased the old man, who is very proud. The lady was good and lovely and accomplished, but he did not like her, and never saw his son after he married. They both died when Laurie was a little child, and then his grandfather took him home. I fancy the boy, who was born in Italy, is not very strong, and the old man is afraid of losing him, which makes him so careful. Laurie comes naturally by his love of music, for he is like his mother, and I dare say his grandfather fears that he may
oil painting
want to be a musician; at any rate, his skill reminds him of the woman he did not like, and so he "glowered", as Jo said.' ¡¡¡¡`Dear me, how romantic!' exclaimed Meg. ¡¡¡¡`How silly!' said Jo. `Let him be a musician, if he wants to, and not plague his life out sending him to college, when he hates to go.' ¡¡¡¡ ¡¡¡¡`'That's why he has such handsome black eyes and pretty manners, I suppose. Italians are always nice,' said Meg, who was a little sentimental. ¡¡¡¡`What do you know about his eyes and his manners? You never spoke to him, hardly,' cried Jo, who was not sentimental.