childe hassam paintings

childe hassam paintings
Cheri Blum paintings
Camille Pissarro paintings
tariff for the scout on such occasions; we were all learning, by trial and error, to carry our wine. There was also a kind of insane and endearing orderliness about Sebastian’s choice, in his extremity, of an open window. But, when all is said, it remained an unpropitious meeting.
His friends bore him to the gate and, in a few minutes, his host, an amiable Etonian of my year, returned to apologize. He, too, was tipsy and his explanations were repetitive and, towards the end, tearful. ‘The wines were too various,’ he said: ‘it was neither the quality nor the quantity that was at fault. It was the mixture. Grasp that and you have the root of the matter. To understand all is to forgive all.’

‘Yes,’ I said, but it was with a sense of grievance that I faced Lunt’s reproaches next morning.
‘A couple of jugs of mulled claret between the five of you,’ Lunt said

Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovsky paintings

Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovsky paintings
Il'ya Repin paintings
Igor V.Babailov paintings
beeches at their margin. The woods were all of oak and beech, the oak grey and bare, the beech faintly dusted with green by the breaking buds; they made a simple, carefully designed pattern with the green glades and the wide green spaces - Did the fallow deer graze here still? - and, lest the eye wander aimlessly, a Doric temple stood by the water’s edge, and an ivy-grown arch spanned the lowest of the connecting weirs. All this had been planned and planted a century and a half ago so that, at about this date, it might be seen in its maturity, From where I stood the house was hidden by a green spur, but I knew well how and where it lay, couched among the lime trees like a hind in the bracken.
Hooper, came sidling up and greeted me with his much imitated but inimitable salute.
His face was grey from his night’s vigil and he had not yet shaved.
‘”B” Company relieved us. I’ve sent the chaps off to get cleaned up

Horace Vernet paintings

Horace Vernet paintings
Irene Sheri paintings
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovsky paintings
Rupert crept stedfustly along with out a sound but as he drew his sword it squeeked a little this awoke Tom seasing a candle he lit it just at that moment Rupert struch and sent the candle flying
The candle lit the cuntain Rupert trying to get away tumbled over the bed Tom maid a dash for the dorr and cleided with a perlisman who had come to see what was the matter and a panic took place.


While Tom and the peliesman were escapeing through the door Rupert was adaping quite a diffrat methand of escape he puld the matris of the bed and hurld the it out of the window then jumped out he landed safe and sound on the matris then began to run for all he was worth now let us leave Rupert and turn to Tom and the peliesman as soon as they got out Tom told the peliesman what had hapend.

Fabian Perez Man in Black Suit painting

Fabian Perez Man in Black Suit paintingFabian Perez Lucy paintingFabian Perez Flamenco painting
Where have the others gone?”
She spoke a name which meant nothing to Major Gordon. “You have not heard of that place? It is twenty miles away. It is where the Germans and Ustashi made a camp. They kept the Jews and gypsies and communists and royalists there, to work on the canal. Before they left they killed what were left of the prisoners—not many. Now the partisans have found new inhabitants for it.”
They had reached the hut and Major Gordon entered to place his load in a corner near the little stove. It was the first and last time he crossed the threshold. He had a brief impression of orderly poverty and then was outside in the snow. “Listen, Mme. Kanyi,” he said. “Don’t lose heart. I am being recalled to Bari. As soon as the road is clear I shall be leaving. When I get there I promise I’ll raise Cain about this. You’ve plenty of friends there and I’ll explain the whole situation to them. We’ll get you all out, I promise

Claude Monet Girls In A Boat painting

Claude Monet Girls In A Boat paintingPietro Perugino Madonna with Child paintingClaude Monet Woman with a Parasol painting
. You will start this evening. I have a small party leaving for the coast. We have our main clearinghouse at Santa Maria. From there you will travel by steamer, perhaps not in the grand luxury, but what will you? No doubt as an Englishman you are a good sailor.” the requisite facilities seem anxious to cross frontiers today. I also have a valued connection with the Neutralian government. Troublesome fellows whom they want to dispose of pass through my hands in large numbers. How much have you got?”
“About forty pounds.”
“Show me.”
Scott-King handed him his book of travellers’ cheques.
“But there are seventy pounds
He rang a bell on his desk and spoke to the answering secretary in rapid Neutralian.
“My man here will take charge of you and fit you out. You speak Neutralian? No? Perhaps it is as well. We do not encourage talk in my

Edward Hopper Cape Cod Morning painting

Edward Hopper Cape Cod Morning paintingAmedeo Modigliani the Reclining Nude paintingAmedeo Modigliani Seated Nude painting
who in the days before the war had popped up wherever there was unpleasantness—Danzig, the Alcazar, Shanghai, Wal-Wal; now a columnist whose weekly articles were syndicated in the popular press of four continents. Scott-King did not read such articles and he had wondered idly at frequent intervals during the morning what she could be. She did not look a lady; she did not even look quite respectable, but he could not reconcile her typewriter with the calling of actress or courtesan; nor for that matter the sharp little sexless face under the too feminine hat and the lavish style of hair-dressing. He came near the truth in suspecting her of being, what he had often heard of but never seen in the a female novelist.
“It’s all a racket,” said Miss Bombaum, “of the Neutralian Propaganda Bureau. I reckon they feel kind of left out of things now the war’s over and want to make some nice new friends among the United Nations. We’re only part of it. They’ve got a religious pilgrimage and a Congress of Physical Culture and an International Philatelists’ Convention

Thomas Kinkade yankee stadium painting

Thomas Kinkade yankee stadium paintingThomas Kinkade ny yankee stadium paintingJuan Gris Violin and Guitar painting
search of an heiress and had evolved theories on the subject of how and where they might be taken. “You must go to the provinces,” he used to say. “The competition in London is far too hot for chaps like us. Americans and Colonials want value for money. The trouble is that the very rich have a natural affinity for one another. You can see it happening all the time—stinking rich people getting fixed up. And what happens? They simply double their super tax and no one is the better off. But they respect brains in the provinces. They like a man to be ambitious there, with his way to make in the world, and there are plenty of solid, mercantile families who can settle a hundred thousand on a daughter without turning a hair, who don’t care a hoot about polo, but think a Member of Parliament very fine. That’s the way to get in with them. Stand for Parliament.”
In accordance with this plan Basil had stood three times—or rather had three times been adopted as candidate; on two occasions he fell out with his committee before the election. At least, that was his excuse to his friends for standing; in fact he, too, thought it a fine thing

Francois Boucher The Marquise de Pompadour painting

Francois Boucher The Marquise de Pompadour paintingFrancois Boucher Nude on a Sofa paintingAndrea del Sarto The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
which they think would be conspicuous in the more public rooms. I took Thurston there.
“Snug little place,” he said, surveying this dismal place. “O.K. if I smoke?”
“Perfectly.”
“Have one?”
“No thank you.”
He lit a cigarette, drew a deep breath of smoke, gazed at the ceiling and, as though coming to the point, said, “Quite like the old Wimpole.”
My heart sank. “Mr. Thurston,” I said, “you have surely not troubled to come here simply in order to talk to me about your club.”
“No. But you see it’s rather awkward. Don’t exactly know how to begin. I thought I might lead up to it naturally. But I realize that your time’s valuable, Mr. Plant, so I may as well admit right out that I owe you an apology.”
“Yes?”
“Yes. I’m here under false pretences. My name isn’t Thurston.”
“No?”
“No. I’d better tell you who I am, hadn’t I?”

Caravaggio The Crowning with Thorns painting

Caravaggio The Crowning with Thorns paintingCaravaggio Narcissus paintingCaravaggio Madonna di Loreto painting
deal of new information has come to light since luncheon. A great deal ... You see, my dear, I am fully occupied.” He turned his restless, quizzical eyes upon Angela. “I suppose you have come about the Danube. Well, you must come again later. Tell them it will be all right, quite all right, but I have not had time to give my full attention to it. Tell them that.”
“Very well, Papa.”
“Anyway,” said Lord Moping rather petulantly, “it is a matter of secondary importance. There is the Elbe and the Amazon and the Tigris to be dealt with first, eh, Loveday? ... Danube indeed. Nasty little river. I’d only call it a stream myself. Well, can’t stop, nice of you to come. I would do more for you if I could, but you see how I’m fixed. Write to me about it. That’s it. Put it in black and white.”
And with that he left the room.
“You see,” said the doctor, “he is in excellent condition. He is putting on weight, eating and sleeping excellently. In fact, the whole tone of his system is above reproach.”
The door opened again and Loveday returned.

Francois Boucher The Rape of Europa painting

Francois Boucher The Rape of Europa paintingMichelangelo Buonarroti The Creation of Adam paintingMichelangelo Buonarroti Creation of Adam painting
Playing upon this affection which had grown up for him, Hector achieved a technique for dealing with Millicent’s young men. He no longer growled at them or soiled their trousers; that merely resulted in his being turned from the room; instead, he found it increasingly easy to usurp the conversation.
Tea was the most dangerous time of day, for then Millicent was permitted to entertain friends in her sitting room; accordingly, though he had a constitutional preference for pungent, meaty dishes, Hector heroically simulated a love of lump sugar. Having made this apparent, at whatever cost to his digestion, it was easy to lead Millicent on to an interest in tricks; he would beg and “trust,” lie down as though dead, stand in the corner and raise a forepaw to his ear.
“What does S U G A R spell?” Millicent would ask and Hector would walk round the tea table to the sugar bowl and lay his nose against it, gazing earnestly and clouding the silver with his moist breath.
“He understands everything,” Millicent would say in triumph.
When tricks failed Hector would demand to be let out of the door. The young man

Pierre Auguste Renoir La Loge painting

Pierre Auguste Renoir La Loge paintingPierre Auguste Renoir Dance at Bougival paintingMary Cassatt Children Playing On The Beach painting
The house looked magnificent in the candlelight. The band was there, the twelve hired footmen, Riley in knee breeches and black silk stockings.
It struck eight. Bella waited. Nobody came.
She sat down on a gilt chair at the head of the stairs, looked steadily before her with her blank, blue eyes. In the hall, in the cloakroom, in the supper room, the hired footmen looked at one another with knowing winks. “What does the old girl expect? No one’ll have finished dinner before ten.”
The linkmen on the steps stamped and chafed their hands.
At half past twelve Bella rose from her chair. Her face gave no indication of what she was thinking.
“Riley, I think I will have some supper. I am not feeling altogether well.”
She hobbled slowly to the dining room.
“Give me a stuffed quail and a glass of wine. Tell the band to start playing.”
The Blue Danube waltz flooded the house. Bella smiled approval and swayed her

Fabian Perez Flamenco Dancer II painting

Fabian Perez Flamenco Dancer II paintingFabian Perez christine paintingGustav Klimt The Tree of Life painting
walked up the platform, purchased a West country evening paper, learned that they need not change and was returning to his carriage when his arm was seized and a voice said:
“Hello, Watch, old man! Remember me?” And with a little difficulty he recognized the smiling face of an old school acquaintance. “See you’ve just got married. Congratulations. Meant to write. Great luck running into you like this. Come and have a drink.”
“Wish I could. Got to get back to the train.”
“Heaps of time, old man. Waits twelve minutes here. Must have a drink.”
Still searching his memory for the name of his old friend, Tom went with him to the station buffet.
“I live fifteen miles out, you know. Just come in to meet the train. Expecting some cow-cake down from London. No sign of it ... Well, all the best.”
They drank two glasses of whisky—very comforting after the cold train journey. Then Tom said:
“Well, it’s been jolly seeing you. I must get back to the train now. Come with me and meet my wife.”

Edmund Blair Leighton The Accolade painting

Edmund Blair Leighton The Accolade paintingEdmund Blair Leighton The End of The Song paintingFrank Dicksee Romeo and Juliet painting
From the dismal array of ills that confronted him and the confused memories that lay behind, this one proposition obtruded itself with devastating insistence. Each of his clearing perceptions advanced fresh evidence of his existence; he stretched out his limbs fully clothed under the counterpane and gazed at the window, fought for precedence in his awakening consciousness until they were established in some fairly coherent chronological order; but always at the end there remained the blue bottle and the sense of finality rudely frustrated. It stood upon the dressing table now, emptied of all its power of reprieve, while the tea grew cold upon the chamber cupboardceiling with uncomprehending despair, while memories of the preceding evening, of Ernest Vaughan with swollen neck and staring eye, of the slum bar and the eager faces of the two pimps, of Henry, crimson and self-righteous, of shop girls in silk blouses eating plum cake, of the Ford wrecked in the broken

Thomas Gainsborough The Morning Walk painting

Thomas Gainsborough The Morning Walk paintingThomas Gainsborough River Landscape paintingThomas Gainsborough Mr and Mrs Andrews painting
panic: people leaped from the stands, swarmed over the barricades in both directions, fell upon their knees and girlfriends, clouted neighbors, clutched loved ones. Bravely the band played New Tammany's anthem until overrun. Guards scrambled into the moat, either to arrest or to protect me; at their head grinned Stoker, cursing as he came. His wife I discerned high up in the bleachers, one hand upon her belly, watching with crowd roaredHurrah (sometimesOlé), the band saluted, and Max went up another measure on the Shaft, blowing kisses and pulling his beard. Now Bray was The Living Sakhyan, now great black Croaker, and then in rhythmic series Maurice Stoker, Kennard Sear, Eblis Eierkopfanxious love above the crowd; Mother knitted placidly beside her. And upon us all, gentle ashes -- whose if not my gentler keeper's? -- commenced to fall. Another term, surely, they would be mine; not now, for though my youthful work was done, that of my manhood remained to do. What it was I clearly saw, and what it would come to. Nonetheless I smiled, leaned on my stick, and, no troubleder than Mom, gimped in to meet the guards halfway.

Claude Monet Water Lily Pond painting

Claude Monet Water Lily Pond paintingClaude Monet The Water Lily Pond paintingFrancisco de Goya Nude Maja painting
I'm eight hours pregnant," she affirmed, in utter earnest. "By the Grand Tutor."
The troopers and students guffawed and cheered; Mother murmured, "A-plus." I marveled at My Ladyship's extraordinary conviction, wondering all the same whether the EAT-wave mightn't have got to her after all. As for Stoker, this declaration on the heels of my Certifying his Candidacy made him truly berserk: he wrenched the motorcycle into gear, cursing, babbling, snarling at once, while tears coursed over his grimed cheeks. Demonstrators sprang in almy collected tokens except the stick and watch, the rest having done their job; but its mate (old Freddie's left) still lay, I trusted, in a certain tool-locker out in the barns, where I meant to go anyway before the Shafting.l directions as he tore through; Max clutched the sidecar-wales. The rest of the troop, still laughing, straggled after -- all save one, whose vehicle Anastasia commandeered by the simple expedient of threatening to tell Stoker that he'd forced her virtue. The trooper sneered, shrugged, growled something aboutPantoffelheldentum - - but climbed up behind a smirking colleague, leaving his own motorcycle idling. Anastasia donned the helmet her spouse had swatted her with, passed Mother into the keeping of the forelocked aide (who seemed, like most of the student body, on familiar terms with My Ladyship), and bade me mount behind her, the vehicle being sidecarless.
"All's fair that ends well," Mother murmured to the air.

Herbert James Draper Herbert James Draper Pot Pourri painting

Herbert James Draper Herbert James Draper Pot Pourri paintingHerbert James Draper Lancelot and Guinevere paintingHerbert James Draper Lament for Icarus painting
place, he declared; he was sick of parties; it was the flunkèd Chancellor's idea, who having punched his own wife in the mouth had kicked over the traces entirely and directed that an orgy be commenced at once in the Powerhouse Living Room, so that he might, in his own phrase, fiddle while New Tammany burned. And it was Anastasia whom he'd chiefly fiddled with, drunkenly calling her his sister-in-law. . .
"Don't believe it, George," Greene interrupted. "Mr. Rexford was drunk all right, and claimed Stoker was his brother; but it was Lacey flooziedhim ."
"Yes," Leonid affirmed. "But Mrs. Anastasia. And not floozied."
"All right!" Stoker shouted, and now glared directly at me. "Disgustingest thing I ever saw: Chancellor of the he's my brother! And Stacey carrying on like a Furnace-Room whore!"
"Even with him," Greene confirmed.
Leonid shook his head at the memory. "Even with us. Compassioncy!"

The Three Candles

The Three CandlesParis Through the WindowLovers in the Moonlight
Circulation Desk, whither all eyes turned. He stood upon the desktop, as if flushed forth by the CACAFILE: a taller, leaner-jawed Bray than the last I'd seen, less hirsute, more commanding, stronger of voice and odor. His skin shone as if varnished, and even as I had dreamed, he now affected over his white tunic a stiff black cloak, as of hard-shined gabardine. Everyone fell silent. My grandfather humphed, but lowered the crook. Mother made a baleful sound and whipped a knitting-needle from her bag, undoing all her purlings in one stroke; but she permitted me to disarm her. I patted her hand.
"Thank you, George." Bray stepped from the desk and came hubwards.
"Look at this, sir!" an old scholar cried, wetting with his tears a handful of vellum tatters. "It's destroyed!"
Everyone spoke at once then: it was my fault more than the CACAFILE's, they said, whose original breakdown I'd also caused with my spring-term program; rather, it was Lucky Rexford's fault, for they assumed that my freedom, and Mother's, was owing to the flunkèd general amnesty. The ex-Chancellor's former receptionist was especially

Mark Rothko paintings

Mark Rothko paintings
Montague Dawson paintings
Mary Cassatt paintings
they led me inside. When I understood that the jacket they called for was for me, and strait, I protested I'd only come to visit Dr. Sear. Bill acknowledged again, grudgingly, that his companion's guess had been correct. "I knew he treated lots of them animal ones," he said in his own defense. "But I thought that there goat one was in Main Detention."
"Heis," the other said, and explained patiently; "what there is, though, Bill, there's somethinks they're the ones that thinks they're animals! It's in their heads."
"You reckon Sear treats them ones too?"
Proud of his knowledge, Bill's companion pointed out that Dr. Sear was a diagnostician, not a therapist. "He just sees what bin they belong in, is all."
The waistcoat was fetched -- a cross-armed canvas thing -- but they offered not to bind me in it if I'd come quietly to Dr. Sear's office. I agreed, delighted to infer that the doctor had recovered from his dread affliction as well as from his suicide-attempt, and I endeavored to Tutor my gruff escorts no further.

James Jacques Joseph Tissot paintings

James Jacques Joseph Tissot paintings
Jules Joseph Lefebvre paintings
Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres paintings
His Assignment," the same fellow said confidently. I decided to do just that, with The Living Sakhyan's aid.
"It saysFix the Clock," I began. "Before, I thoughtfix meant 'repair,' but Dr. Eierkopf's gadget seems to have stopped the clock completely, so I guess I was mistaken. Whatdoes it mean?"
My admirers fell again into the disputation they could never resist, and with the help of The Living Sakhyan's silence I was able to overhear them. My spring-term fiasco, they understood, had been a deliberate bad example, for pedagogical purposes; it went without saying that I'd known all along thatfix could as easily mean "fix in position," for example, to one not bound by conventional assumptions -- was that not what my pretended failure to repair the clock had in fact accomplished? I listened amazed. Moreover, they pointed out to each other, by thus fixing the escapement in position I'd been able to complete my Assignment "in no time," so to speak; surely the implications of the metaphor were clear!
"But if it goes without saying that Heknew all this," the troubled fellow inquired, "why's He asking The Living Sakhyan?"
"Because itdoes go without saying!" another said. "You

Charles Chaplin paintings

Charles Chaplin paintings
Douglas Hofmann paintings
Diane Romanello paintings
He was struck with wonder that a certain question had not occurred to him until that instant -- one which well might have long since to any auditor of this history. But as it had required him fourteen years to think of it, so seven more were to pass before ever it got asked -- and I fear it has not been answered to this day. I cut him off at the mention of my name.
"NotBilly any more! Billy Bocksfuss is dead in the goat-pens." The latter words, an inspiration of the moment, it gave me an unexpected stir of pleasure to pronounce.
Max laughed. "So what should I call you?" He reminded me that none of us knew what my proper family-name was, but he saw no reason why I shouldn't get by without one for the present. If in the meanwhile I desired a new given-name, he'd be glad to help me choose one. The goats, I knew, were named by a strict genealogical procedure, but I had no idea how humans went about their own nomination.
"Well, the Moishians anyhow," Max said, "they call their sons by the last man that died in the family, so his name don't die too." He said this lightly, but it turned

Gustav Klimt The Bride painting

Gustav Klimt The Bride paintingGustav Klimt Hope paintingClaude Monet The Seine At Argenteuil painting
location among its tiers of the several sorts of offenders; there was evidence, even, of a moral logic in its architecture. But in practice we were assorted by no discernible plan: I for example had been taken from the noose at Stoker's direction and detained for impersonating a Grand Tutor; the cells for that species of error were in the fourth block of the third, or bottom, tier, counting downwards; yet I had waked first in an observation-chamber for the criminally mad and later in the company of an alleged murderer, an alleged spy, and an alleged rapist (such was the charge against Peter Greene, who after reviving from Dr. Sear's sedation had on the evening of my fall tracked Anastasia into an alleyway behind the Old Chancellor's Mansion and there, by his own dour admission, flung My Ladyship upon the pavement and forced her virtue "redskin style"), no two of whom belonged in the same stratum. Moreover, at each return from work or exercise there was no telling where one would be confined, or with whom: I might be lodged alone or crammed into a cell with ten others in an empty tier; my companions might be fellow-impostors -- false dons and pretended sophomores -- or some of the many grafters, gamblers,

Titian The Fall of Man painting

Titian The Fall of Man paintingJohn William Godward Nu Sur La Plage paintingJohn William Godward Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder painting
Founder knows. . . No, no, don't be so kind; you've every right to hate me for the way I behaved when you were little. I flunk myself a hundred times over just to remember it, and when Ithink of you married to that beast. . ."
The thought brought more tears, as well it might, despite Anastasia's reassurances that none but herself was accountable for her choice of husbands. Happily, Miss Hector seemed unaware of the details of her daughter's li, before as well as after, understanding only in a general way that it was less than serene and respectable. She was able therefore to recompose herself sooner than she doubtless would have had she known the hard particulars of Anastasia's history.
"I wasawfully upset, you know," she went on presently, referring to the period of her daughter's infancy. "You can'timagine how it is to know that nobody will ever believe the truth, no matter what. Not even you. Not even now. . ."
Anastasia vowed she would, if only her mother would produce it; and so, after a number of unconvinced hums and clucks, Virginia Hector said clearly, almost