Warren Kimble paintings

Warren Kimble paintings
Ted Seth Jacobs paintings
Vincent van Gogh paintings
Vittore Carpaccio paintings
No, Tom, it wouldn't. It would hang round the money. I know the ways of ghosts, and so do you."
Tom began to fear that Huck was right. Misgivings gathered in his mind. But presently an idea occurred to him --
-310-
"Lookyhere, Huck, what fools we're making of ourselves! Injun Joe's ghost ain't a going to come around where there's a cross!"
The point was well taken. It had its effect.
"Tom, I didn't think of that. But that's so. It's luck for us, that cross is. I reckon we'll climb down there and have a hunt for that box."
Tom went first, cutting rude steps in the clay hill as he descended. Huck followed. Four avenues opened out of the small cavern which the great rock stood in. The boys examined three of them with no result. They found a small recess in the one nearest the base of the rock, with a pallet of blankets spread down in it; also an old suspender, some bacon rind, and the well-gnawed bones of two or three fowls. But there was no money-box. The lads searched and researched this place, but in vain. Tom said:
"He said under the cross. Well, this comes nearest to being under the cross. It can't be under the rock itself, because that sets solid on the ground

Lempicka Portrait of Ira painting

Lempicka Portrait of Ira painting
Lempicka Portrait of Madame Allan Bott painting
Lempicka Portrait of Madame Boucard painting
Lempicka Portrait of Madame painting
"You can depend on it. That's the Lord's mark. He don't leave it off. He never does. Puts it somewhere on every creature that comes from his hands."
Early in the forenoon parties of jaded men began to straggle into the village, but the strongest of the citizens continued searching. All the news that could be gained was that remotenesses of the cavern
-281-were being ransacked that had never been visited before; that every corner and crevice was going to be thoroughly searched; that wherever one wandered through the maze of passages, lights were to be seen flitting hither and thither in the distance, and shoutings and pistol-shots sent their hollow reverberations to the ear down the sombre aisles. In one place, far from the section usually traversed by tourists, the names "BECKY & TOM" had been found traced upon the rocky wall with candle-smoke, and near at hand a grease-soiled bit of ribbon. Mrs. Thatcher recognized the ribbon and cried over it. She said it was the last relic she should ever have of her child; and that no other memorial of her could ever be so

Wallis Nap After Tea painting

Wallis Nap After Tea painting
Wallis Nude on Bed painting
Wallis Nude on Yellow painting
Wallis Roman Girl painting
"'Tain't a Spaniard -- it's Injun Joe!"
The Welshman almost jumped out of his chair. In a moment he said:
"It's all plain enough, now. When you talked about notching ears and slitting noses I judged that that was your own embellishment, because white men don't take that sort of revenge. But an Injun! That's a different matter altogether."
During breakfast the talk went on, and in the course of it the old man said that the last thing which he and his sons had done, before going to bed, was to get a lantern and examine the stile and its vicinity for marks of blood. They found none, but captured a bulky bundle of --
"Of WHAT?" If the words had been lightning they could not have leaped with a more stunning suddenness from Huck's blanched lips. His eyes were staring wide, now, and his breath suspended -- waiting for the answer. The Welshman started -- stared in return -- three seconds -- five seconds -- ten -- then replied:
"Of burglar's tools. Why, what's the matter with you?"

Rivera Flower Festival_ Feast of Santa Anita painting

Rivera Flower Festival_ Feast of Santa Anita painting
Rivera Flower Seller painting
Rivera Girl with Lilies painting
Rivera La Fiesta del Maiz (Corn Festival) painting
Oh, you don't want to see!"
"Now that you treat me so, I will see." And she put her small hand upon his and a little scuffle ensued, Tom pretending to resist in earnest but letting his hand slip by degrees till these words were revealed: "I LOVE YOU."
"Oh, you bad thing!" And she hit his hand a smart rap, but reddened and looked pleased, nevertheless.
-81-
Just at this juncture the boy felt a slow, fateful grip closing on his ear, and a steady lifting impulse. In that vise he was borne across the house and deposited in his own seat, under a peppering fire of giggles from the whole school. Then the master stood over him during a few awful moments, and finally moved away to his throne without saying a word. But although Tom's ear tingled, his heart was jubilant.
As the school quieted down Tom made an honest effort to study, but the turmoil within him was too great. In turn he took his place in the reading class and made a botch of it; then in

Blum Exotic Floral III painting

Blum Exotic Floral III painting
Blum Exotic Floral IV painting
Blum Floral Sentiments I painting
Blum Floral Sentiments II painting
That put the thing in a new light. Ben stopped nibbling his apple. Tom swept his brush daintily back and forth -- stepped back to note the effect -- added a touch here and there -- criticised the effect again -- Ben watching every move and getting more and more interested, more and more absorbed. Presently he said:
"Say, Tom, let me whitewash a little."
Tom considered, was about to consent; but he altered his mind:
"No -- no -- I reckon it wouldn't hardly do, Ben. You see, Aunt Polly's awful particular about this fence -- right here on the street, you know -- but if it was the back fence I wouldn't mind and she wouldn't. Yes, she's awful particular about this fence; it's got to be done very careful; I reckon there ain't one boy in a thousand, maybe two thousand, that can do it the way it's got to be done."
"No -- is that so? Oh come, now -- lemme
-32-just try. Only just a little -- I'd let you, if you was me, Tom."

O'Keeffe Red Canna'24 painting

O'Keeffe Red Canna'24 painting
O'Keeffe Red Canna, 1923 painting
O'Keeffe Red Cannas painting
O'Keeffe Red Poppy painting
She went to the open door and stood in it and looked out among the tomato vines and "jimpson" weeds that constituted the garden. No Tom. So she lifted up her voice at an angle calculated for distance and shouted:
"Y-o-u-u Tom!"
There was a slight noise behind her and she turned just in time to seize a small boy by the slack of his roundabout and arrest his flight.
"There! I might 'a' thought of that closet. What you been doing in there?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing! Look at your hands. And look at your mouth. What is that truck?"
"I don't know, aunt."
"Well, I know. It's jam -- that's what it is. Forty times I've said if you didn't let that jam alone I'd skin you. Hand me that switch."
The switch hovered in the air -- the peril was desperate --
"My! Look behind you, aunt!"
The old lady whirled round, and snatched her skirts out of danger. The lad fled on the instant, scrambled up the high board-fence, and disappeared over it.

Li-Leger Manhattan Garden painting

Li-Leger Manhattan Garden painting
Li-Leger Meditation painting
Li-Leger Mirage painting
Li-Leger Modern Bamboo I painting
"Miss Marsch, I haf a great favor to ask of you," began the Professor, after a moist promenade of half a block.
"Yes, sir." And Jo's heart began to beat so hard she was afraid he would hear it.
"I am bold to say it in spite of the rain, because so short a time remains to me."
"Yes, sir." And Jo nearly crushed the small flowerpot with the sudden squeeze she gave it.
"I wish to get a little dress for my Tina, and I am too stupid to go alone. Will you kindly gif me a word of taste and help?"
"Yes, sir." And JO felt as calm and cool all of a sudden as if she had stepped into a refrigerator.
"Perhaps also a shawl for Tina's mother, she is so poor and sick, and the husband is such a care. Yes, yes, a thick, warm shawl would be a friendly thing to take the little mother."

Li-Leger East Meets West II painting

Li-Leger East Meets West II painting
Li-Leger Elegance I painting
Li-Leger Elegance II painting
Li-Leger Exotic Journey painting
"If you happen to meet Mr. Bhaer, bring him home to tea. I quite long to see the dear man," added Mrs. March.
Jo heard that, but made no answer, except to kiss her mother, and walk rapidly away, thinking with a glow of gratitude, in spite of her heartache, "How good she is to me! What do girls do who haven't any mothers to help them through their troubles?"
The dry-goods stores were not down among the counting-houses, banks, and wholesale warerooms, where gentlemen most do congregate, but Jo found herself in that part of the city before she did a single errand, loitering along as if waiting for someone, examining engineering instruments in one window and samples of wool in another, with most unfeminine interest, tumbling over barrels, being half-smothered by descending bales, and hustled unceremoniously by busy men who looked as if they wondered `how the deuce she got there'. A drop of

James Childs paintings

James Childs paintings
John Singleton Copley paintings
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida paintings
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida paintings
because he was poor. For poverty enriches those who live above it, and is a sure passport to truly hospitable spirits. Mr. Bhaer sat looking about him with the air of a traveler who knocks at a strange door, and when it opens, finds himself at home. The children went to him like bees to a honeypot, and establishing themselves on each knee, proceeded to captivate him by rifling his pockets, pulling his beard, and investigating his watch, with juvenile audacity. The women telegraphed their approval to one another, and Mr. March, feeling that he had got a kindred spirit, opened his choicest stores for his guest's benefit, while silent John listened and enjoyed the talk, but said not a word, and Mr. Laurence found it impossible to go to sleep.
If Jo had not been otherwise engaged, Laurie's behavior would have amused her, for a faint twinge, not of jealousy, but something like suspicion, caused that gentleman to stand aloof at first, and observe the newcomer with brotherly circumspection. But it did not last long. He got interested in spite of himself, and before he knew it, was drawn into the circle. For Mr.

Gockel Riotous Red Bloom painting

Gockel Riotous Red Bloom painting
Gockel Riotous Tulips I painting
Gockel Riotous Tulips II painting
Gockel Riotous Tulips III painting
In trooped the whole family, and everyone was hugged and kissed all over again, and after several vain attempts, the three wanderers were set down to be looked at and exulted over. Mr. Laurence, hale and hearty as ever, was quite as much improved as the others by his foreign tour, for the crustiness seemed to be nearly gone, and the old-fashioned courtliness had received a polish which made it kindlier than ever. It was good to see him beam at `my children', as he called the young pair. It was better still to see Amy pay him the daughterly duty and affection which completely won his old heart, and best of all, to watch Laurie revolve about the two, as if never tired of enjoying the pretty picture they made.
The minute she put her eyes upon Amy, Meg became conscious that her own dress hadn't a Parisian air, that young Mrs. Mofffat would be entirely eclipsed by young Mrs. Laurence, and that `her ladyship' was altogether a most elegant and graceful woman. Jo thought, as she watched the pair, "How well they look together! I was right, and Laurie has found the

Perrault A Water Nymph painting

Perrault A Water Nymph painting
Mantegna Madonna with Sleeping Child painting
Mantegna Noli me tangere painting
Perrault Cupid's Arrows painting
"Don't let that young giant come near me, he worries me worse than mosquitoes," whispered the old lady to Amy, as the rooms filled and Laurie's black head towered above the rest.
"He has promised to be very good today, and he can be perfectly elegant if he likes," returned Amy, and gliding away to warn Hercules to beware of the dragon, which warning caused him to haunt the old lady with a devotion that nearly distracted her.
There was no bridal procession, but a sudden silence fell upon the room as Mr. March and the young couple took their places under the green arch. Mother and sisters gathered close, as if loath to give Meg up. The fatherly voice broke more than once, which only seemed to make the service more beautiful and solemn. The bridegroom's hand trembled visibly, and no one heard his replies. But Meg looked straight up in her husband's eyes, and said, "I will!" with such tender trust in her own face and voice that her mother's heart rejoiced and Aunt March sniffed audibly.

Bierstadt On the Saco painting

Bierstadt On the Saco painting
Bierstadt Kerns River Valley California painting
Bierstadt Valley in Kings Canyon painting
Bierstadt The Last of the Buffalo painting
"Where is John?" asked Meg anxiously.
"Stopped to get the license for tomorrow, ma'am."
"Which side won the last match, Teddy?" inquired Jo, who persisted in feeling an interest in manly sports despite her nineteen years.
"Ours, of course. Wish you'd been there to see."
"How is the lovely Miss Randal?" asked Amy with a significant smile.
"More cruel than ever. Don't you see how I'm pining away?" And Laurie gave his broad chest a sounding slap and heaved a melodramatic sigh.
"What's the last joke? Undo the bundle and see, Meg," said Beth, eyeing the knobby parcel with curiosity.
"It's a useful thing to have in the house in case of fire or thieves," observed Laurie, as a watchman's rattle appeared, amid the laughter of the girls.
"Any time when John is away and you get frightened, Mrs. Meg, just swing that out of the front window, and it will rouse the neighborhood in a jiffy. Nice thing, isn't it?" And Laurie gave them a sample of its powers that made them cover up their ears.

Monet The Red Boats, Argenteuil painting

Monet The Red Boats, Argenteuil painting
L'hermitte Laveuses au bord de la Marne painting
Achenbach Ufer des zugefrorenen Meeres painting
Monet Monet Purple Poppies painting
I shall marry whom I please, Aunt March, and you can leave your money to anyone you like," she said, nodding her head with a resolute air.
"Highty-tighty! Is that the way you take my advice, Miss? You'll be sorry for it by-and-by, when you've tried love in a cottage and found it a failure."
"It can't be a worse one than some people find in big houses," retorted Meg.
Aunt March put on her glasses and took a look at the girl, for she did not know her in this new mood. Meg hardly knew herself, she felt so brave and independent, so glad to defend John and assert her right to love him, if she liked. Aunt March saw that she had begun wrong, and after a little pause, made a fresh start, saying as mildly as she could, "Now, Meg, my dear, be reasonable and take my advice. I mean it kindly, and don't want you to spoil your whole life by making a mistake at the beginning. You ought to marry well and help your family. It's your duty to make a rich match and it ought to be impressed upon you."

Young Woman Sewing in a Garden painting

Young Woman Sewing in a Garden painting
A Summer's Day painting
A Woman at her Toilette painting
The Butterfly Chase painting
Mr. March told how he had longed to surprise them, and how, when the fine weather came, he had been allowed by his doctor, to take advantage of it, how devoted Brooke had been, and how he was altogether a most estimable and upright young man. Why Mr. March paused a minute just there, and after a glance at Meg, who was violently poking the fire, looked at his wife with an inquiring lift of the eyebrows, I leave you to imagine. Also why Mrs. March gently nodded her head and asked, rather abruptly, if he wouldn't like to have something to eat. Jo saw and understood the look, and she stalked grimly away to get wine and beef tea, muttering to herself as she slammed the door, "I hate estimable young men with brown eyes!"
There never was such a Christmas dinner as they had that day. The fat turkey was a sight to behold, when Hannah sent him up, stuffed, browned, and decorated. So was the plum pudding, which melted in one's mouth, likewise the jellies, in which Amy reveled like a fly in a honeypot. Everything turned out well, which was a mercy, Hannah said, "For my mind was that flustered, Mum, that it's a merrycle I didn't roast the pudding, and stuff the turkey with raisins, let alone bilin' of it in a cloth."

Knight Picking Flowers painting

Knight Picking Flowers painting
Peasant Hanging out the Washing painting
Young Girl by a Stream painting
The Harvesters Resting painting
kissed Meg entirely by mistake, as he somewhat incoherently explained. And Amy, the dignified, tumbled over a stool, and never stopping to get up, hugged and cried over her father's boots in the most touching manner. Mrs. March was the first to recover herself, and held up her hand with a warning, "Hush! Remember Beth."
But it was too late. The study door flew open, the little red wrapper appeared on the threshold, joy put strength into the feeble limbs, and Beth ran straight into her father's arms. Never mind what happened just after that, for the full hearts overflowed, washing away the bitterness of the past and leaving only the sweetness of the present.
It was not at all romantic, but a hearty laugh set everybody straight again, for Hannah was discovered behind the door, sobbing over the fat turkey, which she had forgotten to put down when she rushed up from the kitchen. As the laugh subsided, Mrs. March began to thank Mr. Brooke for his faithful care of her husband, at which Mr. Brooke suddenly remembered that Mr. March needed rest, and seizing Laurie, he precipitately retired. Then the two invalids were ordered to repose, which they did, by both sitting in one big chair and talking hard.

A Soul in Heaven painting

A Soul in Heaven painting
A Soul in Heaven painting
The Holy Family painting
Biblis painting
Arabs Crossing the Desert painting
What put it into your head? Did anyone tell you about Beth's giving away her things?" asked Laurie soberly, as Amy laid a bit of red tape, with sealing wax, a taper, and a standish before him.
She explained and then asked anxiously, "What about Beth?"
"I'm sorry I spoke, but as I did, I'll tell you. She felt so ill one day that she told Jo she wanted to give her piano to Meg, her cats to you, and the poor old doll to Jo, who would love it for her sake. She was sorry she had so little to give, and left locks of hair to the rest of us, and her best love to Grandpa. She never thought of a will."
Laurie was signing and sealing as he spoke, and did not look up till a great tear dropped on the paper. Amy's face was full of trouble, but she only said, "Don't people put sort of postscripts to their wills, sometimes?"
"Yes, `codicils', they call them."
"Put one in mine then, that I wish all my curls cut off, and given round to my friends. I forgot it, but I want it done though it will spoil my looks."
Laurie added it, smiling at Amy's last and greatest sacrifice. Then he amused her for an hour, and was much interested in all her trials. But when he came to go, Amy held him back to whisper with trembling lips, "Is there really any danger about Beth?"

mark rothko paintings

mark rothko paintings
Old Master Oil Paintings
Nude Oil Paintings
dropship oil paintings
"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 splendor, 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 nice 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 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 chest, 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 gray walking suit, just

Jules Breton paintings

Jules Breton paintings
Johannes Vermeer paintings
Jacques-Louis David paintings
John Everett Millais paintings
"I never shall forgive you," was Jo's stern answer, and from that moment she ignored Amy entirely.
No one spoke of the great trouble, not even Mrs. March, for all had learned by experience that when Jo was in that mood words were wasted, and the wisest course was to wait till some little accident, or her own generous nature, softened Jo's resentment and healed the breach. It was not a happy evening, for though they sewed as usual, while their mother read aloud from Bremer, Scott, or Edgeworth, something was wanting, and the sweet home peace was disturbed. They felt this most when singing time came, for Beth could only play, Jo stood dumb as a stone, and Amy broke down, so Meg and Mother sang alone. But in spite of their efforts to be as cheery as larks, the flutelike voices did not seem to chord as well as usual, and all felt out of tune.
As Jo received her good-night kiss, Mrs. March whispered gently, "My dear, don't let the sun go down upon your anger. Forgive each other, help each other, and begin again tomorrow."

Pietro Perugino paintings

Pietro Perugino paintings
Peter Paul Rubens paintings
Rudolf Ernst paintings
Robert Campin paintings
"You read it! I can't, I feel so queer! Oh, it is too lovely!" and Beth hid her face in Jo's apron, quite upset by her present.
Jo opened the paper and began to laugh, for the first worked 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,'" continues Jo. "`Heartsease is my favorite 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 grand daughter he lost. With hearty thanks and best wishes, I remain
"`Your grateful friend and humble servant,

Julien Dupre paintings

Julien Dupre paintings
Julius LeBlanc Stewart paintings
Jeffrey T.Larson paintings
Jean-Paul Laurens paintings
All sorts of pleasant things happened about that time, for the new friendship flourished like grass in spring. Every one liked Laurie, and he privately informed his tutor that "the Marches were regularly splendid girls." With the delightful enthusiasm of youth, they took the solitary boy into their midst and made much of him, and he found something very charming in the innocent companionship of these simple-hearted girls. Never having known mother or sisters, he was quick to feel the influences they brought about him, and their busy, lively ways made him ashamed of the indolent life he led. He was tired of books, and found people so interesting now that Mr. Brooke was obliged to make very unsatisfactory reports, for Laurie was always playing truant and running over to the Marches'.
"Never mind, let him take a holiday, and make it up afterward," said the old gentleman. "The good lady next door says he is studying too hard and needs young society, amusement, and exercise. I suspect she is right, and that I've been coddling the fellow as if I'd been his grandmother. Let him do what he likes, as long as he is happy. He can't get into mischief in that little nunnery over there, and Mrs. March is doing more for him than we can."

Aubrey Beardsley paintings

Aubrey Beardsley paintings
Andrea del Sarto paintings
Alexandre Cabanel paintings
Anders Zorn paintings
since she had heard the good words. Peter sat down to the table and began to read. His mother sat beside him listening with surprise and exclaiming at the close of each verse, "Who would have thought it possible!"
The grandmother did not speak though she followed the words he read with strained attention.
It happened on the day following this that there
-272-was a reading lesson in Peter's class. When it came to his turn, the teacher said, --
"We must pass over Peter as usual, or will you try again once more -- I will not say to read, but to stammer through a sentence."
Peter took the book and read off three lines without the slightest hesitation. The teacher put down his book and stared at Peter as at some out-of-the-way and marvellous thing unseen before. At last he spoke, --

Patrick Devonas paintings

Patrick Devonas paintings
Peder Mork Monsted paintings
Pierre Auguste Renoir paintings
Peder Severin Kroyer paintings
PETER arrived punctually at school the following day. He had brought his dinner with him, for all the children who lived at a distance regularly seated themselves at mid-day on the tables, and resting their feet firmly on the benches, spread out their meal on their knees and so ate their dinner, while those living in Dörfli went home for theirs. Till one o'clock they might all do as they liked, and then school began again. When Peter had finished his lessons on the days he attended school, he went over to Uncle's to see Heidi.
When he walked into the large room at Uncle's to-day, Heidi immediately rushed forward and took hold of him, for it was for Peter she had been waiting. "I've thought of something, Peter," she said hastily.
"What is it?" he asked.
"You must learn to read," she informed him.
"I have learnt," was the answer.
"Yes, yes, but I mean so that you can really make use of it," continued Heidi eagerly.
"I never shall," was the prompt reply.

Charles Chaplin paintings

Charles Chaplin paintings
Diane Romanello paintings
Diego Rivera paintings
Don Li-Leger paintings
That's all right then -- and here comes your little friend. Have you brought me some nice fresh water?" he asked as Heidi handed him a glass.
"Yes, fresh from the pump," answered Heidi.
"You did not go yourself to the pump?" said Clara.
"Yes I did; it is quite fresh. I had to go a long way, for there were such a lot of people at the first pump; so I went further down the street, but there were just as many at the second pump, but I was able to get some water at the one in the next street, and the gentleman with the white hair asked me to give his kind regards to Herr Sesemann."
"You have had quite a successful expedition," said Herr Sesemann laughing, "and who was the gentleman?"
"He was passing, and when he saw me he stood still and said, `As you have a glass will you give me a drink; to whom are you taking the water?' and when I said, `To Herr Sesemann,' he laughed very much, and then he gave me that message for you, and also said he hoped you would enjoy the water."
"Oh, and who was it, I wonder, who sent me such

George Owen Wynne Apperley paintings

George Owen Wynne Apperley paintings
Gustave Courbet paintings
Guido Reni paintings
George Inness paintings
This was too much for the lady's temper; with raised voice she exclaimed, "You dare, Adelheid, after your bad behavior, to answer me as if it were a joke?"
"I did not -- " began Heidi -- "Miau! miau!"
Sebastian almost dropped his dish and rushed out of the room.
"That will do," Fräulein Rottenmeier tried to say, but her voice was almost stifled with anger. "Get up and leave the room."
Heidi stood up frightened, and again made an attempt to explain. "I really did not -- " "Miau! miau! miau!"
"But, Heidi," now put in Clara, "when you see that it makes Fräulein Rottenmeier angry, why do you keep on saying miau?"
"It isn't I, it's the kittens," Heidi was at last given time to say.

Anne-Francois-Louis Janmot paintings

Anne-Francois-Louis Janmot paintings
Allan R.Banks paintings
Andrea Mantegna paintings
Arthur Hughes paintings
The boy drew back his hand and shook his head.
"What would you like then?" asked Heidi, not sorry to put the card back in her pocket.
"Money."
"I have none, but Clara has; I am sure she will give me some; how much do you want?"
"Twopence."
"Come along then."
They started off together along the street, and on the way Heidi asked her companion what he was carrying on his back; it was a hand-organ, he told her, which played beautiful music when he turned the handle. All at once they found themselves in front of an old church with a high tower; the boy stood still, and said, "There it is."
"But how shall I get inside?" asked Heidi, looking at the fast closed doors.
-114-
"I don't know," was the answer.
"Do you think that I can ring as they do for Sebastian?"
"I don't know."

Bartolome Esteban Murillo paintings

Bartolome Esteban Murillo paintings
Berthe Morisot paintings
Cheri Blum paintings
Camille Pissarro paintings
"What is the matter? What is the matter?" cried the frightened old woman, while his mother, who had also started up from her seat at the shock, said in her usual patient manner, "What is it, Peter? why do you behave so roughly?"
"Because she is taking Heidi away," explained Peter.
"Who? who? where to, Peter, where to?" asked the grandmother, growing still more agitated; but even as she spoke she guessed what had happened, for Brigitta had told her shortly before that she had seen Dete going up to Alm-Uncle. The old woman
-89-rose hastily and with trembling hands opened the window and called out beseechingly, "Dete, Dete, do not take the child away from us! do not take her away!"
The two who were hastening down the mountain heard her voice, and Dete evidently caught the words, for she grasped Heidi's hand more firmly. Heidi struggled to get free, crying, "Grandmother is calling, I must go to her."

Gustave Courbet paintings

Gustave Courbet paintings
Guido Reni paintings
George Inness paintings
George Frederick Watts paintings
where the Lion and the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman were waiting to hear what Oz had said to her. "There is no hope for me," she said sadly, "for Oz will not send me home until I have killed the Wicked Witch of the West; and that I can never do."
Her friends were sorry, but could do nothing to help her; so Dorothy went to her own room and lay down on the bed and cried herself to sleep.
The next morning the soldier with the green whiskers came to the Scarecrow and said:
"Come with me, for Oz has sent for you."
So the Scarecrow followed him and was admitted into the great Throne Room, where he saw, sitting in the emerald throne, a most lovely Lady. She was dressed in green silk gauze and wore upon her flowing green locks a crown of jewels. Growing from her shoulders were wings, gorgeous in color and so light that they fluttered if the slightest breath of air reached them.

Rembrandt paintings

Rembrandt paintings
Raphael paintings
Salvador Dali paintings
Stephen Gjertson paintings
many years, making them slave for her night and day. Now they are all set free, and are grateful to you for the favor."
"Who are the Munchkins?" inquired Dorothy.
"They are the people who live in this land of the East where the Wicked Witch ruled."
"Are you a Munchkin?" asked Dorothy.
"No, but I am their friend, although I live in the land of the North. When they saw the Witch of the East was dead the Munchkins sent a swift messenger to me, and I came at once. I am the Witch of the North."
"Oh, gracious!" cried Dorothy. "Are you a real witch?"
"Yes, indeed," answered the little woman. "But I am a good witch, and the people love me. I am not as powerful as the Wicked Witch was who ruled here, or I should have set the people free myself." "But I thought all witches were wicked," said the girl, who was half frightened at facing a real witch. "Oh, no, that is a great mistake. There were only four witches in all the Land of Oz, and two of them, those who live in the North and the South, are good witches. I know this is true, for I am one of them myself, and cannot be mistaken. Those who dwelt in the East and the West were, indeed, wicked witches; but now that you have killed one of them, there is but one Wicked Witch in all the Land of Oz -- the one who lives in the West."
"But," said Dorothy, after a moment's thought, "Aunt

Julius LeBlanc Stewart paintings

Julius LeBlanc Stewart paintings
Jeffrey T.Larson paintings
Jean-Paul Laurens paintings
Jules Breton paintings
Sir, I have come to warn you. The mad cannot be persuaded out of their delusions, perchance; but doubtless they may be persuaded to avoid perils. I think this dream of yours hath the seeming of honest truth to you, and therefore is not criminal-but do not tarry here with it; for here it is dangerous." She looked steadily into Miles's face a moment, then added, impressively, "It is the more dangerous for that you are much like what our lost lad must have grown to be, if he had lived."
"Heavens, madam, but I am he!"
"I truly think you think it, sir. I question not your honesty in that-I but warn you, that is all. My husband is master in this region; his power hath hardly any limit; the people prosper or starve, as he wills. If you resembled not the man whom you profess to be, my husband might bid you pleasure yourself with your dream in peace; but trust me, I know him well, I know

Georgia O'Keeffe paintings

Georgia O'Keeffe paintings
Gustave Clarence Rodolphe Boulanger paintings
Guillaume Seignac paintings
His majesty walked apart, musing, and Hendon dropped into a chair at table, observing to himself, "'Twas a brave thought, and hath wrought me a mighty deliverance; my legs are grievously wearied. An I had not thought of that, I must have had to stand for weeks, till my poor lad's wits are cured." After a little he went on, "And so I am become a knight of the Kingdom of Dreams and Shadows! A most odd and strange position, truly, for one so matter-of-fact as I. I will not laugh-no, God forbid, for this thing which is so substanceless to me is real to him. And to me, also, in one way, it is not a falsity, for it reflects with truth the sweet and generous spirit that is in him." After a pause: "Ah, what if he should call me by my fine title before folk!-there"d be a merry contrast betwixt my glory and my raiment! But no matter; let him call me what he will, so it please him; I shall be contentdefault. Now in the Tower lay the Lord de Courcy, the mightiest arm in England, stripped of his honors and possessions, and wasting with long captivity. Appeal was made to him; he gave assent, and came forth arrayed for battle; but no sooner did the Frenchman glimpse his huge frame and hear his famous name but he fled away, and the French king's cause was lost. King

wholesale oil painting

wholesale oil painting
As she lay thinking and mourning, the suggestion began to creep into her mind that there was an undefinable something about this boy that was lacking in Tom Canty, mad or sane. She could not describe it, she could not tell just what it was, and yet her sharp mother-instinct seemed to detect it and perceive it. What if the boy were really not her son, after all? Oh, absurd! She almost smiled at the idea, spite of her griefs and troubles. No matter, she found that it was an idea that would not "down", but persisted in haunting her. It pursued her, it harassed her, it clung to her, and refused to be put away or ignored. At last she perceived that there was not going to be any peace for her until she should devise a test that should prove, dearly and without question, whether this lad was her son or not, and so banish these wearing and worrying doubts. Ah, yes, this was plainly the right way out of the difficulty; therefore, she set her wits to work at once to contrive that test. But it was an easier thing to propose than to accomplish. She turned over in her mind one promising test after another, but was obliged to relinquish them all-none of them were absolutely sure, absolutely perfect; and an imperfect one could not satisfy her. Evidently she was racking her head in vai

wholesale oil painting

wholesale oil painting
I'm going to the Coroner's Court myself." he said good-naturedly. "So you can come along of me. You see there's that big Avenger inquest going on to-day, so I think they'll have had to make other arrangements for - hum, hum - ordinary cases." And as she looked at him dumbly, he went on, "There'll be a mighty crowd of people at The Avenger inquest - a lot of ticket folk to be accommodated, to say nothing of the public."
"That's the inquest I'm going to," faltered Mrs. Bunting. She could scarcely get the words out. She realised with acute discomfort, yes, and shame, how strange, how untoward, was that which she was going to do. Fancy a respectable woman wanting to attend a murder inquest!
During the last few days all her perceptions had be come sharpened by suspense and fear. She realised now, as she looked into the stolid face of her unknown friend, how she herself would have regarded any woman who wanted to attend such an inquiry from a simple, morbid feeling of curiosity. And yet - and yet that was just what she was about to do herself.

oil painting for sale

oil painting for sale
there, you can't tell! In a case like that it's groping - groping in the dark all the time - and it's just a lucky accident if it comes out right in the end. Of course, it's upsetting us all very much here. You can't wonder at that!"
No, indeed," said Bunting quickly. "I give you my word, I've hardly thought of anything else for the last month."
Daisy had disappeared, and when her father joined her in the passage she was listening, with downcast eyes, to what Joe Chandler was saying.
He was telling her about his real home, of the place where his mother lived, at Richmond - that it was a nice little house, close to the park. He was asking her whether she could manage to come out there one afternoon, explaining that his mother would give them tea, and how nice it would be.
"I don't see why Ellen shouldn't let me," the girl said rebelliously. "But she's that old

the last supper painting

the last supper painting
It was during that short interval of time that the tragedy took place. That is certain. In my mind's eye I saw Mademoiselle Stangerson re-enter the pavilion, go to her room to take off her hat, and find herself faced by the murderer. He had been in the pavilion for some time waiting for her. He had arranged to pass the whole night there. He had taken off Daddy Jacques's boots; he had removed the papers from the cabinet; and had then slipped under the bed. Finding the time long, he had risen, gone again into the laboratory, then into the vestibule, looked into the garden, and had seen, coming towards the pavilion, Mademoiselle Stangerson - alone. He would never have dared to attack her at that hour, if he had not found her alone. His mind was made up. He would be more at ease alone with Mademoiselle Stangerson in the pavilion, than he would have been in the middle of the night, with Daddy Jacques sleeping in the attic. So he shut the vestibule window. That explains why neither Monsieur Stangerson, nor the keeper, who were at some distance from the pavilion, had heard the revolver shot.
"Then he went back to The Yellow Room. Mademoiselle Stangerson came in. What passed must have taken place very quickly. Mademoiselle tried to call for help; but the man had seized her by the throat. Her hand had sought and grasped the revolver which she had been keeping

van gogh painting

van gogh painting
It is possible that there was some reason for the awful silence. My intervention might do more harm than good. How could I tell? How could I know I might not any moment cause another crime? If I could only see and know, without breaking that silence!
"I left the ante-room and descended the central stairs to the vestibule and, as silently as possible, made my way to the little room on the ground-floor where Daddy Jacques had been sleeping since the attack made at the pavilion.
"I found him dressed, his eyes wide open, almost haggard. He did not seem surprised to see me. He told me that he had got up because he had heard the cry of the Bete du bon Dieu, and because he had heard footsteps in the park, close to his window, out of which he had looked and, just then, had seen a black shadow pass by. I asked him whether he had a firearm of any kind. No, he no longer kept one, since the examining magistrate had taken his revolver from him. We went out together, by a little back door, into the park, and stole along the chateau to the point which is just below Mademoiselle Stangerson's window.

famous oil painting

famous oil painting
the accusation made by Larsan that Monsieur Stangerson knows who the murderer is he yet affords him every facility for arriving at the truth, - just as Darzac is doing for me."
"But you are convinced of Darzac's innocence?"
"At one time I did believe in the possiblity of his guilt. That was when we arrived here for the first time. The time has come for me to tell you what has passed between Monsieur Darzac and myself."
Here Rouletabille interrupted himself and asked me if I had brought the revolvers. I showed him them. Having examined both, he pronounced them excellent, and handed them back to me.
"Shall we have any use for them?" I asked.
"No doubt; this evening. We shall pass the night here - if that won't tire you?"
"On the contrary," I said with an expression that made Rouletabille laugh.
"No, no," he said, "this is no time for laughing. You remember the phrase which was the 'open sesame' of this chateau full of mystery?"