Monet Palazzo da Mula at Venice painting

Monet Palazzo da Mula at Venice painting
Monet Pond at Montgeron painting
Monet Poplars painting
Monet Poppy Field In A Hollow Near Giverny painting
Rebecca Thatcher" [Tom glanced at her face -- it was white with terror] -- "did you tear -- no, look me in the face" [her hands rose in appeal] -- "did you tear this book?"
A thought shot like lightning through Tom's brain. He sprang to his feet and shouted -- " I done it!"
The school stared in perplexity at this incredible folly. Tom stood a moment, to gather his dismembered faculties; and when he stepped forward to go to his punishment the surprise, the gratitude, the adoration that shone upon him out of poor Becky's eyes seemed pay enough for a hundred floggings. Inspired by the splendor of his own act, he took without an outcry the most merciless flaying that even Mr. Dobbins had ever administered; and also received with indifference the added cruelty of a command to remain two hours after school should be dismissed -- for he knew who would wait for him outside till his captivity was done, and not count the tedious time as loss, either.
Tom went to bed that night planning vengeance against Alfred Temple; for with shame and repentance Becky had told him all, not forgetting her own treachery; but even the longing for vengeance had to give way, soon, to pleasanter musings, and he fell asleep at last with Becky's latest words lingering dreamily in his ear --
"Tom, how could you be so noble!"

Perez rojosillon iii painting

Perez rojosillon iii painting
Perez second blonde painting
Perez Selling Pleasures II painting
Perez Selling Pleasures painting
"There, d'you hear that! It was his very words!"
"And you shut him up sharp."
"I lay I did! There must 'a' been an angel there. There was an angel there, somewheres!"
"And Mrs. Harper told about Joe scaring her with a firecracker, and you told about Peter and the Painkiller -- "
"Just as true as I live!"
"And then there was a whole lot of talk 'bout dragging the river for us, and 'bout having the funeral Sunday, and then you and old Miss Harper hugged and cried, and she went."
"It happened just so! It happened just so, as sure as I'm a-sitting in these very tracks. Tom, you couldn't told it more like if you'd 'a' seen it! And then what? Go on, Tom!"
"Then I thought you prayed for me -- and I could see you and hear every word you said. And you went to bed, and I was so sorry that I took and wrote on a piece of sycamore bark, 'We ain't dead -- we are only off being pirates,' and put it on the table by the candle; and then you looked so good, laying there asleep, that I thought I went and leaned over and kissed you on the lips."
"Did you, Tom, did you! I just forgive you everything for that!" And she seized the boy in a crushing embrace that made him feel like the guiltiest of villains.
-183-
"It was very kind, even though it was only a -- dream," Sid soliloquized just audibly.

Perez Gloves Pearls painting

Perez Gloves Pearls painting
Perez isabella painting
Perez juergalasol ii painting
Perez juergedelsol painting
built against (where it curved upward and separated itself from the ground), that a handbreadth or so of it had escaped wetting; so they patiently wrought until, with shreds and bark gathered from the under sides of sheltered logs, they coaxed the fire to burn again. Then they piled on great dead boughs till they had a roaring furnace, and were glad-hearted once more. They dried their boiled ham and had a feast, and after that they sat by the fire and expanded and glorified their midnight adventure until morning, for there was not a dry spot to sleep on, anywhere around.
As the sun began to steal in upon the boys, drowsiness came over them, and they went out on the sandbar and lay down to sleep. They got scorched out by and by, and drearily set about getting breakfast. After the meal they felt rusty, and stiff-jointed, and a little home-sick once more. Tom saw the signs, and fell to cheering up the pirates as well as he could. But they cared nothing for marbles, or circus, or swimming, or anything. He reminded them of the imposing secret, and raised a ray of cheer. While it lasted, he got them interested in a new

Famous painting

Famous painting
this mysterious charm. He did not venture again until he had found it, and by that time the other boys were tired and ready to rest. They gradually wandered apart, dropped into the "dumps," and fell to gazing longingly across the wide river to where the village lay drowsing in the sun. Tom found himself writing "BECKY" in the sand with his big toe; he scratched it out, and was angry with himself for his weakness. But he wrote it again, nevertheless; he could not help it. He erased it once more and then took himself out of
-162-temptation by driving the other boys together and joining them.
But Joe's spirits had gone down almost beyond resurrection. He was so homesick that he could hardly endure the misery of it. The tears lay very near the surface. Huck was melancholy, too. Tom was down-hearted, but tried hard not to show it. He had a secret which he was not ready to tell, yet, but if this mutinous depression was not broken up soon, he would have to bring it out. He said, with a great show of cheerfulness:

Jules Joseph Lefebvre paintings

Jules Joseph Lefebvre paintings
Jacques-Louis David paintings
John Everett Millais paintings
James Jacques Joseph Tissot paintings
now this mysterious sound became more pronounced, and forced a recognition. The boys started, glanced at each other, and then each assumed a listening attitude. There was a long silence, profound and unbroken; then a deep, sullen boom came floating down out of the distance.
"What is it!" exclaimed Joe, under his breath.
"I wonder," said Tom in a whisper.
"'Tain't thunder," said Huckleberry, in an awed tone, "becuz thunder -- "
"Hark!" said Tom. "Listen -- don't talk."
They waited a time that seemed an age, and then the same muffled boom troubled the solemn hush.
"Let's go and see."
-149-
They sprang to their feet and hurried to the shore toward the town. They parted the bushes on the bank and peered out over the water. The little steam ferry-boat was about a mile

oil painting for sale

oil painting for sale
"Oh, Laurie, is it really you? I thought you'd never come!" cried Amy, dropping the reins and holding out both hands, to the great scandalization of a French mamma, who hastened her daughter's steps, lest she should be demoralized by beholding the free manners of these `mad English'.
"I was detained by the way, but I promised to spend Christmas with you, and here I am."
"How is your grandfather? When did you come? Where are you staying?"
"Very well -- last night -- at the Chauvain. I called at your hotel, but you were out."
"I have so much to say, I don't know where to begin! Get in and we can talk at our ease. I was going for a drive and longing for company. Flo's saving up for tonight."
"What happens then, a ball?"
"A Christmas party at out hotel. There are many Americans there, and they give it in honor of the day. You'll go with us, of course? Aunt will be charmed."

James Childs paintings

James Childs paintings
John Singleton Copley paintings
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida paintings
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida paintings
They did feel it, yet neither spoke of it, for often between ourselves and those nearest and dearest to us there exists a reserve which it is very hard to overcome. Jo felt as if a veil had fallen between her heart and Beth's, but when she put out her hand to lift it up, there seemed something sacred in the silence, and she waited for Beth to speak. She wondered, and was thankful also, that her parents did not seem to see what she saw, and during the quiet weeks when the shadows grew so plain to her, she said nothing of it to those at home, believing that it would tell itself when Beth came back no better. She wondered still more if her sister really guessed the hard truth, and what thoughts were passing through her mind during the long hours when she lay on the warm rocks with her head in Jo's lap, while the winds blew healthfully over her and the sea made music at her feet.
One day Beth told her. Jo thought she was asleep, she lay so still, and putting down her book, sat looking at her with wistful eyes, trying to see signs of hope in the faint color on Beth's cheeks. But she could not find enough to satisfy her, for the cheeks were very thin, and the hands seemed too feeble to hold even the rosy little shells they had been collecting. It

Renoir La Promenade painting

Renoir La Promenade painting
Renoir The Ball at the Moulin de la Galette painting
Renoir Two Sisters on the Terrace painting
Renoir Claude Monet Painting in his Garden at Argenteuil painting
"Marry -- no we shouldn't! If you loved me, Jo, I should be a perfect saint, for you could make me anything you like."
"No, I can't. I've tried and failed, and I won't risk our happiness by such a serious experiment. We don't agree and we never shall, so we'll be good friends all our lives, but we won't go and do anything rash."
"Yes, we will if we get the chance," muttered Laurie rebelliously.
"Now do be reasonable, and take a sensible view of the case," implored Jo, almost at her wit's end.
"I won't be reasonable. I don't want to take what you call `a sensible view'. It won't help me, and it only makes it harder. I don't believe you've got any heart."
"I wish I hadn't." There was a little quiver in Jo's voice, and thinking it a good omen, Laurie turned round, bringing all his persuasive powers to bear as he said, in the wheedlesome tone that had never been so dangerously wheedlesome before, "Don't disappoint us, dear! Everyone expects it. Grandpa has set his heart upon it, your people like it, and I can't get on without you. Say you will, and let's be happy. Do, do!"

Turner Rain, Steam and Speed - The Great Western Railway painting

Turner Rain, Steam and Speed - The Great Western Railway painting
Turner Heidelberg painting
Turner Rome from Mount Aventine painting
Turner Petworth Park Tillington Church in the Distance painting
It was a pleasant winter and a long one, for she did not leave Mrs. Kirke till June. Everyone seemed sorry when the time came. The children were inconsolable, and Mr. Bhaer's hair stuck straight up all over his head, for he always rumpled it wildly when disturbed in mind.
"Going home? Ah, you are happy that you haf a home to go in," he said, when she told him, and sat silently pulling his beard in the corner, while she held a little levee on that last evening.
She was going early, so she bade them all goodbye overnight, and when his turn came, she said warmly, "Now, Sir, you won't forget to come and see us, if you ever travel our way, will you? I'll never forgive you if you do, for I want them all to know my friend."
"Do you? Shall I come?" he asked, looking down at her with an eager expression which she did not see

Aagard Auguste Reading to Her Daughter painting

Aagard Auguste Reading to Her Daughter painting
Aagard Mediterranean Shipping painting
Aagard A Woodland Scene With Deer painting
Cassatt Young Mother Sewing painting
His very clothes seemed to partake of the hospitable nature of the wearer. They looked as if they were at ease, and liked to make him comfortable. His capacious waistcoat was suggestive of a large heart underneath. His rusty coat had a social air, and the baggy pockets plainly proved that little hands often went in empty and came out full. His very boots were benevolent, and his collars never stiff and raspy like other people's.
"That's it!" said Jo to herself, when she at length discovered that genuine good will toward one's fellow men could beautify and dignify even a stout German teacher, who shoveled in his dinner, darned his own socks, and was burdened with the name of Bhaer.
Jo valued goodness highly, but she also possessed a most feminine respect for intellect, and a little discovery which she made about the Professor added much to her regard for him. He never spoke of himself, and no one ever knew that in his native city he had been a man much honored and esteemed for learning and integrity, till a countryman came to see him. He

Martin Johnson Heade paintings

Martin Johnson Heade paintings
Nancy O'Toole paintings
Philip Craig paintings
Paul McCormack paintings
Though possessed of half a dozen hats, it took him some time to find one, then there was a hunt for the key, which was at last discovered in his pocket, so that the girls were quite out of sight when leaped the fence and ran after them. Taking the shortest way to the boathouse, he waited for them to appear, but no one came, and he went up the hill to take an observation. A grove of pines covered one part of it, and from the heart of this green spot came a clearer sound than the soft sigh of the pines or the drowsy chirp of the crickets.
"Here's a landscape!" thought Laurie, peeping through the bushes, and looking wide-awake and good-natured already.
It was a rather pretty little picture, for the sisters sat together in the shady nook, with sun and shadow flickering over them, the aromatic wind lifting their hair and cooling their hot cheeks, and all the little wood people going on with their affairs as if these were no strangers but old friends. Meg sat upon her cushion, sewing daintily with her white hands, and

Jean-Paul Laurens paintings

Jean-Paul Laurens paintings
Jules Breton paintings
Johannes Vermeer paintings
Jacques-Louis David paintings
sorts of comical gymnastics. Beth, who was collecting the scattered Author cards, looked up and said, in her shy yet friendly way, "I'm afraid you are tired. Can I do anything for you?"
"Talk to me, please. It's dull, sitting by myself," answered Frank, who had evidently been used to being made much of at home.
If he asked her to deliver a Latin oration, it would not have seemed a more impossible task to bashful Beth, but there was no place to run to, no Jo to hide behind now, and the poor boy looked so wistfully at her that she bravely resolved to try.
"What do you like to talk about?" she asked, fumbling over the cards and dropping half as she tried to tie them up.
"Well, I like to hear about cricket and boating and hunting," said Frank, who had not yet learned to suit his amusements to his strength.
My heart! What shall I do? I don't know anything about them, thought Beth, and forgetting the boy's misfortune in her flurry, she said, hoping to make him talk, "I never saw any hunting, but I suppose you know all about it."

Mediterranean paintings

Mediterranean paintings
Oil Painting Gallery
Alfred Gockel paintings
Alexei Alexeivich Harlamoff paintings
Meg drew her aside, under pretense of pinning up a loose braid, and said approvingly, "It was dreadfully provoking, but you kept your temper, and I'm so glad, Jo."
"Don't praise me, Meg, for I could box his ears this minute. I should certainly have boiled over if I hadn't stayed among the nettles till I got my rage under control enough to hold my tongue. It's simmering now, so I hope he'll keep out of my way," returned Jo, biting her lips as she glowered at Fred from under her big hat.
"Time for lunch," said Mr. Brooke, looking at his watch. "Commissary general, will you make the fire and get water, while Miss March, Miss Sallie, and I spread the table? Who can make good coffee?"
"Jo can," said Meg, glad to recommend her sister. So Jo, feeling that her late lessons in cookery were to do her honor, went to preside over the coffeepot, while the children collected dry sticks, and the boys made a fire and got water from a spring near by. Miss Kate sketched and Frank talked to Beth, who was making little mats of braided rushes to serve as plates.

Decorative painting

Decorative painting
Here lies Pip March, Who died the 7th of June; Loved and lamented sore, And not forgotten soon.
At the conclusion of the ceremonies, Beth retired to her room, overcome with emotion and lobster, but there was no place of repose, for the beds were not made, and she found her grief much assuaged by beating up the pillows and putting things in order. Meg helped Jo clear away the remains of the feast, which took half the afternoon and left them so tired that they agreed to be contented with tea and toast for supper.
Laurie took Amy to drive, which was a deed of charity, for the sour cream seemed to have had a bad effect upon her temper. Mrs. March came home to find the three older girls hard at work in the middle of the afternoon, and a glance at the closet gave her an idea of the success of one part of the experiment. Before the housewives could rest, several people called, and there was a scramble to get ready to see them. Then tea must be got, errands done, and one or two necessary bits of sewing neglected until the last minute. As twilight fell, dewy and still, one by one they gathered on the porch where the June roses were budding beautifully, and each groaned or sighed as she sat down, as if tired or troubled.
"What a dreadful day this has been!" began Jo, usually the first to speak.

Camille Pissarro paintings

Camille Pissarro paintings
Carl Fredrik Aagard paintings
Caravaggio paintings
Come here, boy, and stand in front of me, for I have something to say to you. Leave off shaking and trembling, for I want you to listen to me. You sent the chair rolling down the mountain so that it was broken to pieces. That was a very wrong thing to do, as you yourself knew very well at the time, and you also knew that you deserved to be punished for it, and in order to escape this you have been doing all you can to hide the truth from everybody. But be sure of this, Peter: that those who do wrong make a mistake when they think no one knows anything about it. For God sees and hears everything, and when the wicked doer tries to hide what he has done,
-341-then God wakes up a little watchman that He places inside us all when we are born and who sleeps on quietly till we do something wrong. And the little watchman has a small goad in his hand, And when he wakes up he keeps on pricking us with it, so that we have not a moment's peace. And the watchman torments us still further, for he keeps on calling out, `Now you will be found out! Now they will drag you off to punishment!' And so we pass our life in fear and trouble, and never know a moment's happiness or peace. Have you not felt something like that lately, Peter?"

Anders Zorn paintings

Anders Zorn paintings
Anne-Francois-Louis Janmot paintings
Allan R.Banks paintings
Here another unexpected sight met her gaze, for there, under the trees where the long branches had left a clear space on the ground, stood a great bush of the most wonderful dark blue gentians, as fresh and shining as if they were growing on the spot. She clasped her hands, enraptured with their beauty.
"How exquisite! what a lovely sight!" she exclaimed. "Heidi, dearest child, come here! Is it you who have prepared this pleasure for me? It is perfectly wonderful!"
The children ran up.
-338-
"No, no, I did not put them there," said Heidi, "but I know who did."
"They grow just like that on the mountain, grandmamma, only if anything they look more beautiful still," Clara put in; "but guess who brought those down to-day," and as she spoke she gave such a pleased smile that the grandmother thought for a moment the child herself must have gathered them. But that was hardly possible

John William Godward paintings

John William Godward paintings
John William Waterhouse paintings
John Singer Sargent paintings
Jean-Leon Gerome paintings
Clara had in her turn become thoughtful. "But, Heidi," she began again, "in that case we ought never to pray for anything, as God always intends something better for us than we know or wish for."
"You must not think it is like that, Clara," replied Heidi eagerly. "We must go on praying for everything, for everything, so that God may know we do not forget that it all comes from Him. If we forget God, then He lets us go our own way and we get into trouble; grandmamma told me so. And if He does not give us what we ask for we must not think that He has not heard us and leave off praying, but we must still pray and say, I am sure, dear God, that Thou art keeping something better for me, and I will not be unhappy, for I know that Thou wilt make everything right in the end."
"How did you learn all that?" asked Clara.
"Grandmamma explained it to me first of all, and then when it all happened just as she said, I knew it myself, and I think, Clara," she went on, as she sat

Mediterranean paintings

Mediterranean paintings
Oil Painting Gallery
Alfred Gockel paintings
Alexei Alexeivich Harlamoff paintings
THE kind doctor who had given the order that Heidi was to be sent home was walking along one of the broad streets towards Herr Sesemann's house. It was a sunny September morning, so full of light and sweetness that it seemed as if everybody must rejoice. But the doctor walked with his eyes fastened to the ground and did not once lift them to the blue sky above him. There was an expression of sadness on his face, formerly so cheerful, and his hair had grown greyer since the spring. The doctor had had an only daughter, who, after his wife's death, had been his sole and constant companion, but only a few months previously death had deprived him of his dear child, and he had never been the same bright and cheery man since.
Sebastian opened the door to him, greeting him with every mark of respectful civility, for the doctor was not only the most cherished friend of the master and his daughter, but had by his kindness won the hearts of the whole household.

James Jacques Joseph Tissot paintings

James Jacques Joseph Tissot paintings
Jules Joseph Lefebvre paintings
Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres paintings
John William Godward paintings
again. Heidi was so full of her morning's doings that she began at once to tell her grandfather all about them: how the white bread could be fetched every day from Dörfli if there was money for it, and how the grandmother had all at once grown stronger and happier, and light had come to her. Then she returned to the subject of the rolls. "If the grandmother won't take the money, grandfather, will you give it all to me, and I can then give Peter enough every day to buy a roll and two on Sunday?"
"But how about the bed?" said her grandfather. "It would be nice for you to have a proper bed, and there would then be plenty for the bread."
But Heidi gave her grandfather no peace till he consented to do what she wanted; she slept a great deal better, she said, on her bed of hay than on her fine pillowed bed in Frankfurt. So at last he said, "The money is yours, do what you like with it; you can buy bread for grandmother for years to come with it."

Fra Angelico paintings

Fra Angelico paintings
Frederic Edwin Church paintings
Frederic Remington paintings
Francisco de Goya paintings
Heidi obeyed and skipped happily after her grandfather into the house; she ran into all the corners, delighted to see everything again, and then went up the ladder -- but there she came to a pause and called down in a tone of surprise and distress, "Oh, grandfather, my bed's gone."
"We can soon make it up again," he answered her from below. "I did not know that you were coming back; come along now and have your milk."
Heidi came down, sat herself on her high stool in the old place, and then taking up her bowl drank her milk eagerly, as if she had never come across anything so delicious, and as she put down her bowl, she exclaimed, "Our milk tastes nicer than anything else in the world, grandfather."
A shrill whistle was heard outside. Heidi darted out like a flash of lightning. There were the goats leaping and springing among the rocks, with Peter in their midst. When he caught sight of Heidi he stood still with astonishment and gazed speechlessly at her.

Mary Cassatt paintings

Mary Cassatt paintings
gustav klimt paintings
oil painting reproduction
mark rothko paintings
day she never even opened her mouth, for her excitement, which increased with every mile of the journey, kept her speechless. All of a sudden, before Heidi expected it, a voice called out, "Mayenfeld." She and Sebastian both jumped up, the latter also taken by surprise. In another minute they were both standing on the platform with Heidi's trunk, and the train was steaming away down the valley. Sebastian looked after it regretfully, for
-188-he preferred the easier mode of travelling to a wearisome climb on foot, especially as there was danger no doubt as well as fatigue in a country like this, where, according to Sebastian's idea, everything and everybody were half savage. He therefore looked cautiously to either side to see who was a likely person to ask the safest way to Dörfli.
Just outside the station he saw a shabby-looking little cart and horse which a broad-shouldered man was loading with heavy sacks that had been brought by the train, so he went up to him and asked which was the safest way to get to Dörfli.

Vittore Carpaccio paintings

Vittore Carpaccio paintings
Warren Kimble paintings
Wassily Kandinsky paintings
William Etty paintings
the trees were bigger and older than any they had ever seen.
"This forest is perfectly delightful," declared the Lion, looking around him with joy. "Never have I seen a more beautiful place."
"It seems gloomy," said the Scarecrow.
"Not a bit of it," answered the Lion. "I should like to live here all my life. See how soft the dried leaves are under your feet and how rich and green the moss is that clings to these old trees. Surely no wild beast could wish a pleasanter home."
"Perhaps there are wild beasts in the forest now," said Dorothy.
"I suppose there are," returned the Lion, "but I do not see any of them about."
They walked through the forest until it became too dark to go any farther. Dorothy and Toto and the Lion lay down to sleep, while the Woodman and the Scarecrow kept watch over them as usual.

Joseph Mallord William Turner paintings

Joseph Mallord William Turner paintings
Julien Dupre paintings
Julius LeBlanc Stewart paintings
Jeffrey T.Larson paintings
While the Woodman was making a ladder from wood which he found in the forest Dorothy lay down and slept, for she was tired by the long walk. The Lion also curled himself up to sleep and Toto lay beside him.
The Scarecrow watched the Woodman while he worked, and said to him:
"I cannot think why this wall is here, nor what it is made of."
"Rest your brains and do not worry about the wall," replied the Woodman. "When we have climbed over it, we shall know what is on the other side."
After a time the ladder was finished. It looked clumsy, but the Tin Woodman was sure it was strong and would answer their purpose. The Scarecrow waked Dorothy and the Lion and Toto, and told them that the ladder was ready. The Scarecrow climbed up the ladder first, but he was so awkward that Dorothy had to follow close behind and keep him from falling off. When he got his head over the top of the wall the Scarecrow said, "Oh, my!"
"Go on," exclaimed Dorothy

Carl Fredrik Aagard paintings

Carl Fredrik Aagard paintings
Caravaggio paintings
Claude Lorrain paintings
Claude Monet paintings
the Woodman, who was greatly pleased. "But is it a kind heart?"
"Oh, very!" answered Oz. He put the heart in the Woodman's breast and then replaced the square of tin, soldering it neatly together where it had been cut.
"There," said he; "now you have a heart that any man might be proud of. I'm sorry I had to put a patch on your breast, but it really couldn't be helped."
"Never mind the patch," exclaimed the happy Woodman. "I am very grateful to you, and shall never forget your kindness."
"Don't speak of it," replied Oz.
Then the Tin Woodman went back to his friends, who wished him every joy on account of his good fortune.
The Lion now walked to the Throne Room and knocked at the door.
"Come in," said Oz.
"I have come for my courage," announced the Lion, entering the room.

Stephen Gjertson paintings

Stephen Gjertson paintings
Sir Henry Raeburn paintings
Thomas Cole paintings
Theodore Robinson paintings
of these little things. Think of me, and the terrible trouble I'm in at being found out."
"Doesn't anyone else know you're a humbug?" asked Dorothy.
"No one knows it but you four -- and myself," replied Oz. "I have fooled everyone so long that I thought I should never be found out. It was a great mistake my ever letting you into the Throne Room. Usually I will not see even my subjects, and so they believe I am something terrible."
"But, I don't understand," said Dorothy, in bewilderment. "How was it that you appeared to me as a great Head?"
"That was one of my tricks," answered Oz. "Step this way, please, and I will tell you all about it."
He led the way to a small chamber in the rear of the Throne Room, and they all followed him. He pointed to one corner, in which lay the great Head, made out of many thicknesses of paper, and with a carefully painted face.
"This I hung from the ceiling by a wire," said Oz. "I stood behind the screen and pulled a thread, to make the eyes move and the mouth open."

James Childs paintings

James Childs paintings
John Singleton Copley paintings
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida paintings
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida paintings
Dorothy found herself riding easily between two of the biggest Monkeys, one of them the King himself. They had made a chair of their hands and were careful not to hurt her.
"Why do you have to obey the charm of the Golden Cap?" she asked.
"That is a long story," answered the King, with a Winged laugh; "but as we have a long journey before us, I will pass the time by telling you about it, if you wish."
"I shall be glad to hear it," she replied. "Once," began the leader, "we were a free people, living happily in the great forest, flying from tree to tree, eating nuts and fruit, and doing just as we pleased without calling anybody master. Perhaps some of us were rather too full of mischief at times, flying down to pull the tails of the animals that had no wings, chasing birds, and throwing nuts at the people who walked in the forest. But we were careless and happy and full of fun, and enjoyed every minute of the day. This was many years ago, long before Oz came out of the clouds to rule over this land.

Albert Bierstadt paintings

Albert Bierstadt paintings
Andreas Achenbach paintings
Alphonse Maria Mucha paintings
Benjamin Williams Leader paintings
"I know it," returned the Lion, wiping a tear from his eye with the tip of his tail. "It is my great sorrow, and makes my life very unhappy. But whenever there is danger, my heart begins to beat fast."
"Perhaps you have heart disease," said the Tin Woodman.
"It may be," said the Lion.
"If you have," continued the Tin Woodman, "you ought to be glad, for it proves you have a heart. For my part, I have no heart; so I cannot have heart disease."
"Perhaps," said the Lion thoughtfully, "if I had no heart I should not be a coward."
"Have you brains?" asked the Scarecrow.
"I suppose so. I've never looked to see," replied the Lion.
"I am going to the Great Oz to ask him to give me some," remarked the Scarecrow, "for my head is stuffed with straw."
"And I am going to ask him to give me a heart," said the Woodman.
"And I am going to ask him to send Toto and me back to Kansas," added Dorothy.

Lady Laura Teresa Alma-Tadema paintings

Lady Laura Teresa Alma-Tadema paintings
Louise Abbema paintings
Leonardo da Vinci paintings
Lord Frederick Leighton paintings
Then all rose, and Tom Canty cried out:
"Now, O my king, take these regal garments back, and give poor Tom, thy servant, his shreds and remnants again."
The Lord Protector spoke up:
"Let the small varlet be stripped and flung into the Tower."
But the new king, the true king, said:
"I will not have it so. But for him I had not got my crown again-none shall lay a hand upon him to harm him. And as for thee, my good uncle, my Lord Protector, this conduct of thine is not grateful toward this poor lad, for I hear he hath made thee a duke"-the Protector blushed-" yet he was not a king; wherefore, what is thy fine title worth now? To-morrow you shall sue to me, through him, for its confirmation, else no duke, but a simple earl, shalt thou remain." Under this rebuke, his grace the Duke of Somerset retired a little from the front for the moment. The king turned to Tom, and said, kindly:
"My poor boy, how was it that you could remember where I hid the Seal when I could not remember it myself?"

Art Painting

Art Painting
But at night, in his dreams, these things were forgotten, and he was on his throne, and master again. This, of course, intensified the sufferings of the awakening-so the mortifications of each succeeding morning of the few that passed between his return to bondage and the combat with Hugo, grew bitterer, and harder and harder to bear.
The morning after that combat, Hugo got up with a heart filled with vengeful purposes against the king. He had two plans in particular. One was to inflict upon the lad what would be, to his proud spirit and "imagined" royalty, a peculiar humiliation; and if he failed to accomplish this, his other plan was to put a crime of some kind upon the king and then betray him into the implacable clutches of the law.
In pursuance of the first plan, he proposed to put a "clime" upon the king's leg, rightly judging that that would mortify him to the last and perfect degree; and as soon as the clime should operate, he meant to get Canty's help, and force the king to expose his leg in the highway and beg for alms. "Clime" was the cant term for a sore, artificially created. To make a

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John Singer Sargent paintings
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"Thou"lt tarry here, and thy friend lying wounded in the wood yonder? So be it, then."
The king's manner changed at once. He cried out:
"Wounded? And who hath dared to do it? But that is apart; lead on, lead on! Faster, sirrah! art shod with lead? Wounded, is he? Now though the doer of it be a duke's son, he shall rue it!"
It was some distance to the wood, but the space was speedily traversed. The youth looked about him, discovered a bough sticking in the ground, with a small bit of rag tied to it, then led the way into the forest, watching for similar boughs and finding them at intervals; they were evidently guides to the point he was aiming at. By and by an open place was reached, where were the charred remains of a farmhouse, and near them a barn which was falling to ruin and decay. There was no sign of life anywhere, and utter silence prevailed. The youth entered the barn, the king following eagerly upon his heels. No one there! The king shot a surprised and suspicious glance at the youth, and asked:
"Where is he?"

Jules Joseph Lefebvre paintings

Jules Joseph Lefebvre paintings
Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres paintings
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did not require him to go toward London and danger. He would strike for Hendon Hall, that is what he would do, for he knew Hendon was homeward bound, and there he might expect to find him. Yes, the case was plain to Hendon-he must lose no more time in Southwark, but move at once through Kent, toward Monk's Holm, searching the wood and inquiring as he went. Let us return to the vanished little king now.
The ruffian, whom the waiter at the inn on the bridge saw "about to join" the youth and the king, did not exactly join them, but fell in close behind them and followed their steps. He said nothing. His left arm was in a sling, and he wore a large green patch over his left eye; he limped slightly, and used an oaken staff as a support. The youth led the king a crooked course through Southwark, and by and by struck into the highroad beyond. The king was irritated now, and said he would stop here-it was Hendon's place to come to him, not his to go to Hendon. He would not endure such insolence; he would stop where he was. The youth said:

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Johannes Vermeer paintings
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Miles Hendon hurried along toward the Southwark end of the bridge, keeping a sharp lookout for the persons he sought, and hoping and expecting to overtake them presently. He was disappointed in this, however. By asking questions, he was enabled to track them part of the way through Southwark; then all traces ceased, and he was perplexed as to how to proceed. Still, he continued his efforts as best he could during the rest of the day. Nightfall found him leg-weary, half famished, and his desire as far from accomplishment as ever; so he supped at the Tabard inn and went to bed, resolved to make an early start in the morning, and give the town an exhaustive search. As he lay thinking and planning, he presently began to reason thus: The boy would escape from the ruffian, his reputed father, if possible; would he go back to London and seek his former haunts? No, he would not do that, he would avoid recapture. What, then, would he do? Never having had a friend in the world, or a protector, until he met Miles Hendon, he would naturally try to find that friend again, provided the effort

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Wassily Kandinsky paintings
William Etty paintings
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"In the Name of the King!
Let none list to this false and foolish matter, upon pain of death, nor discuss the same, nor carry it abroad. In the name of the king!"
The whisperings ceased as suddenly as if the whisperers had been stricken dumb.
Soon there was a general buzz along the corridors, of "The prince! See, the prince comes!"
Poor Tom came slowly walking past the low-bowing groups, trying to bow in return, and meekly gazing upon his strange surroundings with bewildered and pathetic eyes. Great nobles walked upon each side of him, making him lean upon them, and so steady his steps. Behind him followed the court physicians and some servants.
Presently Tom found himself in a noble apartment of the palace, and heard the door close behind him. Around him stood those who had come with him Before him, at a little distance, reclined a very large and very fat man, with a wide, pulpy face, and a stern expression. His large head was very gray; and his whiskers, which he wore only around his face, like a frame, were gray also. His clothing was of rich stuff, but old, and slightly frayed in places. One of his swollen legs had a pillow under it, and was wrapped in bandages. There was silence now; and there was no head there but was bent in reverence, except this man's. This stern-countenanced invalid was the dread Henry VIII. He said-and his face grew gentle as he began to speak:
"How now, my lord Edward, my prince? Hast been minded to cozen me, the good king thy father, who loveth thee, and kindly useth thee, with a sorry jest?"

Guillaume Seignac paintings

Guillaume Seignac paintings
George Owen Wynne Apperley paintings
Gustave Courbet paintings
Guido Reni paintings
Bunting passed the time of day with the tobacconist, and the two fell into desultory talk, but to his customer's relief and surprise the man made no allusion to the subject of which all the neighbourhood must still be talking.
And then, quite suddenly, while still standing by the counter, and before he had paid for the packet of tobacco he held in his hand, Bunting, through the open door, saw with horrified surprise that Ellen, his wife, was standing, alone, outside a greengrocer's shop just opposite.
Muttering a word of apology, he rushed out of the shop and across the road.
"Ellen!" he gasped hoarsely, "you've never gone and left my little girl alone in the house with the lodger?
Mrs. Bunting's face went yellow with fear. "I thought you was indoors," she cried. "You was indoors! Whatever made you come out for, without first making sure I'd stay in?"
Bunting made no answer; but, as they stared at each other in exasperated silence, each now knew that the other knew.

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Francisco de Zurbaran paintings
Gustav Klimt paintings
Georgia O'Keeffe paintings
Gustave Clarence Rodolphe Boulanger paintings
Just now Ellen and Daisy were down in the kitchen, and Bunting didn't quite like the sensation of knowing that there was only one pair of stairs between Mr. Sleuth and himself. So he quietly slipped out of the house without telling Ellen that he was going out.
In the last four days Bunting had avoided his usual haunts; above all, he had avoided even passing the time of day to his acquaintances and neighbours. He feared, with a great fear, that they would talk to him of a subject which, because it filled his mind to the exclusion of all else, might make him betray the knowledge - no, not knowledge, rather the - the suspicion - that dwelt within him.
But to-day the unfortunate man had a curious, instinctive longing for human companionship - companionship, that is, other than that of his wife and of his daughter.
This longing for a change of company finally led him into a small, populous thoroughfare hard by the Edgeware Road. There were more people there than usual just now, for the housewives of the neighbourhood were doing their Saturday marketing for Sunday. The ex-butler turned into a small old-fashioned shop where he generally bought his tobacco.

Frederic Edwin Church paintings

Frederic Edwin Church paintings
Frederic Remington paintings
Francisco de Goya paintings
Filippino Lippi paintings
always promised she should have on her eighteenth birthday - a watch. It was a pretty little silver watch, which Bunting had bought secondhand on the last day he had been happy - it seemed a long, long time ago now.
Mrs. Bunting thought a silver watch a very extravagant present but she was far too wretched, far too absorbed in her own thoughts, to trouble much about it. Besides, in such matters she had generally had the good sense not to interfere between her husband and his child.
In the middle of the birthday morning Bunting went out to buy himself some more tobacco. He had never smoked so much as in the last four days, excepting, perhaps, the week that had followed on his leaving service. Smoking a pipe had then held all the exquisite pleasure which we are told attaches itself to the eating of forbidden fruit.
His tobacco had now become his only relaxation; it acted on his nerves as an opiate, soothing his fears and helping him to think. But he had been overdoing it, and it was that which now made him feel so "jumpy," so he assured himself, when he found himself starting at any casual sound outside, or even when his wife spoke to him suddenly.

Frank Dicksee paintings

Frank Dicksee paintings
Ford Madox Brown paintings
Federico Andreotti paintings
Fra Angelico paintings
No, o' course not" - Bunting broke in hastily. "How you do go on, Ellen!"
"What day did your mother mention would be convenient to her?" asked Mrs. Bunting, looking at the young man satirically.
Chandler hesitated. His mother had not mentioned any special day - in fact, his mother had shown a surprising lack of anxiety to see Daisy at all. But he had talked her round.
"How about Saturday?" suggested Bunting. "That's Daisy's' birthday. 'Twould be a birthday treat for her to go to Richmond, and she's going back to Old Aunt on Monday."
"I can't go Saturday," said Chandler disconsolately. "I'm on duty Saturday."
"Well, then, let it be Sunday," said Bunting firmly. And his wife looked at him surprised; he seldom asserted himself so much in her presence.
"What do you say, Miss Daisy?" said Chandler.
"Sunday would be very nice," said Daisy demurely. And then, as the young man took up his hat, and as her stepmother did not stir, Daisy ventured to go out into the hall with him for a minute.
Chandler shut the door behind them, and so was spared the hearing of Mrs. Bunting's whispered remark: "When I was a young woman folk didn't gallivant about on Sunday; those who was courting used to go to church together, decent-like - "

Famous painting

Famous painting
become so nervous, so "jumpy," that he didn't know what to make of her sometimes. She had never been really good-tempered - your capable, self -respecting woman seldom is - but she had never been like what she was now. And she didn't get better as the days went on; in fact she got worse. Of late she had been quite hysterical, and for no reason at all! Take that little practical joke of young Joe Chandler. Ellen knew quite well he often had to go about in some kind of disguise, and yet how she had gone on, quite foolish-like - not at all as one would have expected her to do.
There was another queer thing about her which disturbed him in more senses than one. During the last three weeks or so Ellen had taken to talking in her sleep. "No, no, no!" she had cried out, only the night before. "It isn't true - I won't have it said - it's a lie!" And there had been a wail of horrible fear and revolt in her usually quiet, mincing voice.
******
Whew! it was cold; and he had stupidly forgotten his gloves.
He put his hands in his pockets to keep them warm, and began walking more quickly

acrylic landscape painting

acrylic landscape painting
His wife remained silent. She knew what he meant. A good many days had gone by since the last two Avenger murders, and the papers had very little to say about them that they hadn't said in different language a dozen times before.
She went into her bedroom and came back with a bit of plain sewing.
Mrs. Bunting was fond of sewing, and Bunting liked to see her so engaged. Since Mr. Sleuth had come to be their lodger she had not had much time for that sort of work.
It was funny how quiet the house was without either Daisy, or - or the lodger, in it.
At last she let her needle remain idle, and the bit of cambric slipped down on her knee, while she listened, longingly, for Mr. Sleuth's return home.
And as the minutes sped by she fell to wondering with a painful wonder if she would ever see her lodger again, for, from what she knew of Mr. Sleuth, Mrs. Bunting felt sure that if he got into any kind of - well, trouble outside, he would never betray where he had lived during the last few weeks.

contemporary painting

contemporary painting
Somehow she couldn't help uttering these over-true words. And then she turned, eager and half frightened, to see how Bunting had taken what she said.
But he looked quite placid, as if he had hardly heard her. "We don't get the good old fogs we used to get - not what people used to call 'London particulars.' I expect the lodger feels like Mrs. Crowley - I've often told you about her, Ellen?"
Mrs. Bunting nodded.
Mrs. Crowley had been one of Bunting's ladies, one of those he had liked best - a cheerful, jolly lady, who used often to give her servants what she called a treat. It was seldom the kind of treat they would have chosen for themselves, but still they appreciated her kind thought.
"Mrs. Crowley used to say," went on Bunting, in his slow, dogmatic way, "that she never minded how bad the weather was in London, so long as it was London and not the country. Mr. Crowley, he liked the country best, but Mrs. Crowley always felt dull-like there. Fog never kept her from going out - no, that it didn't. She wasn't a bit afraid. But - " he turned round and looked at his wife - " I am a bit surprised at Mr. Sleuth. I should have thought him a timid kind of gentleman - "

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ust as twelve was striking a four-wheeler drew up to the gate.
It brought Daisy - pink-cheeked, excited, laughing-eyed Daisy - a sight to gladden any father's heart.
"Old Aunt said I was to have a cab if the weather was bad," she cried out joyously.
There was a bit of a wrangle over the fare. King's Cross, as all the world knows, is nothing like two miles from the Marylebone Road, but the man clamoured for one and sixpence, and hinted darkly that he had done the young lady a favour in bringing her at all.
While he and Bunting were having words, Daisy, leaving them to it, walked up the flagged path to the door where her stepmother was awaiting her.
As they were exchanging a rather frigid kiss, indeed, 'twas a mere peck on Mrs. Bunting's part, there fell, with startling suddenness, loud cries on the still, cold air. Long-drawn and wailing, they sounded strangely sad as they rose and fell across the distant roar of traffic in the Edgware Road.

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famous painting religious
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Anything the matter?" Bunting murmured, and stirred uneasily. "Anything the matter, Ellen?"
She answered in a whisper, a whisper thrilling with a strange gladness, "No, nothing, Bunting - nothing the matter! Go to sleep again, my dear."
They got up an hour later, both in a happy, cheerful mood. Bunting rejoiced at the thought of his daughter's coming, and even Daisy's stepmother told herself that it would be pleasant having the girl about the house to help her a bit.
About ten o'clock Bunting went out to do some shopping. He brought back with him a nice little bit of pork for Daisy's dinner, and three mince-pies. He even remembered to get some apples for the sauce. had done the other evening, Mr. and Mrs. Bunting's visitor stopped at the door. "Any news of Miss Daisy?" he asked casually.
"Yes; she's coming to-morrow," said her father. "They've got scarlet fever at her place. So Old Aunt thinks she'd better clear out."
The husband and wife went to bed early that night, but Mrs. Bunting found she could not sleep. She lay wide awake, hearing the hours, the half-hours, the quarters chime out from the belfry of the old church close by.

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And then, a little lower down
"The excitement grows and grows. It is not too much to say that even a stranger to London would know that something very unusual was in the air. As for the place where the murder was committed last night - "
"Last night!" thought Mrs. Bunting, startled; and then she realised that "last night," in this connection, meant the night before last.
She began the sentence again:
"As for the place where the murder was committed last night, all approaches to it were still blocked up to a late hour by hundreds of onlookers, though, of course, nothing now remains in the way of traces of the tragedy."
Slowly and carefully Mrs. Bunting folded the paper up again in its original creases, and then she stooped and put it back down on the mat where she had found it. She then turned out the gas, and going back into bed she lay down by her still sleeping husband.

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But having picked it up, Mrs. Bunting did not go back at once into her bedroom. Instead she lit the gas in the passage, and leaning up against the wall to steady herself, for she was trembling with cold and fatigue, she opened the paper.
Yes, there was the heading she sought:
The AVENGER Murders"
But, oh, how glad she was to see the words that followed:
"Up to the time of going to press there is little new to report concerning the extraordinary series of crimes which are amazing, and, indeed, staggering not only London, hut the whole civilised world, and which would seem to be the work of some woman-hating teetotal fanatic. Since yesterday morning, when the last of these dastardly murders was committed, no reliable clue to the perpetrator, or perpetrators, has been obtained, though several arrests were made in the course of the day. In every case, however, those arrested were able to prove a satisfactory alibi."

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famous picasso pablo painting
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The husband and wife went to bed early that night, but Mrs. Bunting found she could not sleep. She lay wide awake, hearing the hours, the half-hours, the quarters chime out from the belfry of the old church close by.
And then, just as she was dozing off - it must have been about one o'clock - she heard the sound she had half unconsciously been expecting to hear, that of the lodger's stealthy footsteps coming down the stairs just outside her room.
He crept along the passage and let himself out very, very quietly.
But though she tried to keep awake, Mrs. Bunting did not hear him come in again, for she soon fell into a heavy sleep.
Oddly enough, she was the first to wake the next morning; odder still, it was she, not Bunting, who jumped out of bed, and going out into the passage, picked up the newspaper which had just been pushed through the letter-box.

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"I ask nothing better, Monsieur President. I have come here for that purpose. I humbly beg the court's pardon for the disturbance of which I have been the innocent cause. I beg you to believe that nobody has a greater respect for the court than I have. I came in as I could." He smiled.
"Take him away!" ordered the President.
Maitre Henri Robert intervened. He began by apologising for the young man, who, he said, was moved only by the best intentions. He made the President understand that the evidence of a witness who had slept at the Glandier during the whole of that eventful week could not be omitted, and the present witness, moreover, had come to name the real murderer.
"Are you going to tell us who the murderer was?" asked the President, somewhat convinced though still sceptical.
"I have come for that purpose, Monsieur President!" replied Rouletabille.
An attempt at applause was silenced by the usher.
"Joseph Rouletabille," said Maitre Henri Robert, "has not been regularly subpoenaed as a witness, but I hope, Monsieur President, you will examine him in virtue of your discretionary powers."

contemporary painting

contemporary painting
Robert Darzac opened his eyes, with a look that showed he had not understood a word of what Rouletabille had said to him. At that moment the conveyance arrived, driven by Frederic Larsan. Darzac and the gendarme entered it, Larsan remaining on the driver's seat. The prisoner was taken to Corbeilhat same evening Rouletabille and I left the Glandier. We were very glad to get away and there was nothing more to keep us there. I declared my intention to give up the whole matter. It had been too much for me. Rouletabille, with a friendly tap on my shoulder, confessed that he had nothing more to learn at the Glandier; he had learned there all it had to tell him. We reached Paris about eight o'clock, dined, and then, tired out, we separated, agreeing to meet the next morning at my rooms.
Rouletabille arrived next day at the hour agreed on. He was dressed in a suit of English tweed, with an ulster on his arm, and a valise in his hand. Evidently he had prepared himself for a journey.
"How long shall you be away?" I asked.
"A month or two," he said. "It all depends."
I asked him no more questions.

Modern Art Painting

Modern Art Painting
There's a fate about this place!" groaned Rouletabille. "Some infernal gods must be watching over the misfortunes of this family! - If I had not been drugged, I should have saved Mademoiselle Stangerson. I should have silenced him forever. And the keeper would not have been killed!"
Monsieur Darzac came in to speak with us. His distress was terrible. Rouletabille told him everything: his preparations for Mademoiselle Stangerson's safety; his plans for either capturing or for disposing of the assailant for ever; and how he would have succeeded had it not been for the drugging.
"If only you had trusted me!" said the young man, in a low tone. "If you had but begged Mademoiselle Stangerson to confide in me! - But, then, everybody here distrusts everybody else, the daughter distrusts her father, and even her lover. While you ask me to protect her she is doing all she can to frustrate me. That was why I came on the scene too late!"
At Monsieur Robert Darzac's request Rouletabille described the whole scene. Leaning on the wall, to prevent himself from falling, he had made his way to Mademoiselle Stangerson's

Art Painting

Art Painting
ademoiselle Stangerson had been almost murdered for the second time. Unfortunately, she was in too weak a state to bear the severer injuries of this second attack as well as she had those of the first. She had received three wounds in the breast from the murderer's knife, and she lay long between life and death. Her strong physique, however, saved her; but though she recovered physically it was found that her mind had been affected. The slightest allusion to the terrible incident sent her into delirium, and the arrest of Robert Darzac which followed on the day following the tragic death of the keeper seemed to sink her fine intelligence into complete melancholia.
Robert Darzac arrived at the chateau towards half-past nine. I saw him hurrying through the park, his hair and clothes in disorder and his face a deadly white. Rouletabille and I were looking out of a window in the gallery. He saw us, and gave a despairing cry: "I'm too late!"
Rouletabille answered: "She lives!"
A minute later Darzac had gone into Mademoiselle Stangerson's room and, through the door, we could hear his heart-rending sobs.

Famous painting

Famous painting
'Daddy Jacques,' I said, in a threatening voice, 'you did not follow it; you and the phantom walked to Epinay together - arm in arm!'
"'No!' he cried, turning his eyes away, 'I did not. It came on to pour, and - I turned back. I don't know what became of the black phantom."
"We left him, and when we were outside I turned to Larsan, looking him full in the face, and put my question suddenly to take him off his guard:
"'An accomplice?'
"'How can I tell?' he replied, shrugging his shoulders. 'You can't be sure of anything in a case like this. Twenty-four hours ago I would have sworn that there was no accomplice!' He left me saying he was off to Epinay."
"Well, what do you make of it?" I asked Rouletabille, after he had ended his recital. "Personally I am utterly in the dark. I can't make anything out of it. What do you gather?"
"Everything! Everything!" he exclaimed. "But," he said abruptly, "let's find out more about Mademoiselle Stangerson."

the last supper painting

the last supper painting
line in it that was wanting to help to the solution of the problem then set before the police. With the lines of this plan and the description of its parts before them, my readers will know as much as Rouletabille knew when he entered the pavilion for the first time. With him they may now ask: How did the murderer escape from The Yellow Room? Before mounting the three steps leading up to the door of the pavilion, Rouletabille stopped and asked Monsieur Darzac point blank:
"What was the motive for the crime?"
"Speaking for myself, Monsieur, there can be no doubt on the matter," said Mademoiselle Stangerson's fiance, greatly distressed. "The nails of the fingers, the deep scratches on the chest and throat of Mademoiselle Stangerson show that the wretch who attacked her attempted to commit a frightful crime. The medical experts who examined these traces yesterday affirm that they were made by the same hand as that which left its red imprint on the wall; an enormous hand, Monsieur, much too large to go into my gloves," he added with an indefinable smile.

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Here is the ground plan of the pavilion. It had a ground-floor which was reached by a few steps, and above it was an attic, with which we need not concern ourselves. The plan of the ground-floor only, sketched roughly, is what I here submit to the reader.
1. The Yellow Room, with its one window and its one door opening into the laboratory.
2. Laboratory, with its two large, barred windows and its doors, one serving for the vestibule, the other for The Yellow Room.
3. Vestibule, with its unbarred window and door opening into the park.
4. Lavatory.
5. Stairs leading to the attic.
6. Large and the only chimney in the pavilion, serving for the experiments of the laboratory.
The plan was drawn by Rouletabille, and I assured myself that there was not a

Rembrandt Painting

Rembrandt Painting
Mademoiselle found cheerful and in which she lived in the summer season, appeared to us as sad and funereal now. The soil was black and muddy from the recent rains and the rotting of the fallen leaves; the trunks of the trees were black and the sky above us was now, as if in mourning, charged with great, heavy clouds.
And it was in this sombre and desolate retreat that we saw the white walls of the pavilion as we approached. A queer-looking building without a window visible on the side by which we neared it. A little door alone marked the entrance to it. It might have passed for a tomb, a vast mausoleum in the midst of a thick forest. As we came nearer, we were able to make out its disposition. The building obtained all the light it needed from the south, that is to say, from the open country. The little door closed on the park. Monsieur and Mademoiselle Stangerson must have found it an ideal seclusion for their work and their dreams.
_______________________________________
ditch
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enclosing
wall
___ 1 d
bed i
PARK ___________ t
::::: 4 c
::5:: 2 h
oo oo :: ::___ _
oo
oo oo oo
Traces
of
Footsteps 3 ___________ _______
6 ditch
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door enclosing
wall

abstract art painting

abstract art painting
in her night-dress, was found lying on the floor in the agonies of death. We have, at least, been able to interview Daddy Jacques - as he is called in the country - a old servant in the Stangerson family. Daddy Jacques entered The Room at the same time as the Professor. This chamber adjoins the laboratory. Laboratory and Yellow Room are in a pavilion at the end of the park, about three hundred metres (a thousand feet) from the chateau.
"'It was half-past twelve at night,' this honest old man told us, 'and I was in the laboratory, where Monsieur Stangerson was still working, when the thing happened. I had been cleaning and putting instruments in order all the evening and was waiting for Monsieur Stangerson to go to bed. Mademoiselle Stangerson had worked with her father up to midnight; when the twelve strokes of midnight had sounded by the cuckoo-clock in the laboratory, she rose, kissed Monsieur Stangerson and bade him good-night. To me she said "bon soir, Daddy Jacques" as she passed into The Yellow Room. We heard her lock the door and shoot the bolt, so that I could not help laughing, and said to Monsieur: "There's Mademoiselle double-locking herself in, - she must be afraid of the 'Bete du bon Dieu!'"

art work painting

art work painting
Stangerson and his daughter. These labours - the first that were attempted in radiography - served to open the way for Monsieur and Madame Curie to the discovery of radium. It was expected the Professor would shortly read to the Academy of Sciences a sensational paper on his new theory, - the Dissociation of Matter, - a theory destined to overthrow from its base the whole of official science, which based itself on the principle of the Conservation of Energy. On the following day, the newspapers were full of the tragedy. The "Matin," among others, published the following article, entitled: "A Supernatural Crime":
"These are the only details," wrote the anonymous writer in the "Matin" - "we have been able to obtain concerning the crime of the Chateau du Glandier. The state of despair in which Professor Stangerson is plunged, and the impossibility of getting any information from the lips of the victim, have rendered our investigations and those of justice so difficult that, at present, we cannot form the least idea of what has passed in The Yellow Room in which Mdlle. Stangerson,

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african art painting
truth. He only allowed so much of it to appear as sufficed to ensure the acquittal of an innocent man. The reasons which he had for his reticence no longer exist. Better still, the time has come for my friend to speak out fully. You are going to know all; and, without further preamble, I am going to place before your eyes the problem of The Yellow Room as it was placed before the eyes of the entire world on the day following the enactment of the drama at the Chateau du Glandier.
On the 25th of October, 1892, the following note appeared in the latest edition of the "Temps":
"A frightful crime has been committed at the Glandier, on the border of the forest of Sainte-Genevieve, above Epinay-sur-Orge, at the house of Professor Stangerson. On that night, while the master was working in his laboratory, an attempt was made to assassinate Mademoiselle Stangerson, who was sleeping in a chamber adjoining this laboratory. The doctors do not answer for the life of Mdlle. Stangerson."
The impression made on Paris by this news may be easily imagined. Already, at that time, the learned world was deeply interested in the labours of Professor

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无框画油画直销网
"I am waiting for the coffin to take me away."
After these words, the little girl disappeared and the window closed without a sound.
"Oh, Lovely Maiden with Azure Hair," cried Pinocchio, "open, I beg of you. Take pity on a poor boy who is being chased by two Assass--"
We have hundreds more books for your enjoyment. Read them all!
He did not finish, for two powerful hands grasped him by the neck and the same two horrible voices growled threateningly: "Now we have you!"
The Marionette, seeing death dancing before him, trembled so hard that the joints of his legs rattled and the coins tinkled under his tongue.
"Well," the Assassins asked, "will you open your mouth now or not? Ah! You do not answer? Very well, this time you shall open it."
Taking out two long, sharp knives, they struck two heavy blows on the Marionette's back.
Happily for him, Pinocchio was made of very hard wood and the knives broke into a thousand pieces. The Assassins looked at each other in dismay, holding the handles of the knives in their hands.
"I understand," said one of them to the other, "there is nothing left to do now but to hang him."
"To hang him," repeated the other.
They tied Pinocchio's hands behind his shoulders and slipped the noose around his neck. Throwing the rope over the high limb of a giant oak tree, they pulled till the poor Marionette hung far up in space.
Satisfied with their work, they sat on the grass waiting for Pinocchio to give his last gasp. But after three hours the Marionette's eyes were still open, his mouth still shut and his legs kicked harder than ever.

Rembrandt Painting

Rembrandt Painting


More Books
The Assassins chase Pinocchio, catch him, and hang him to the branch of a giant oak tree
As he ran, the Marionette felt more and more certain that he would have to give himself up into the hands of his pursuers. Suddenly he saw a little cottage gleaming white as the snow among the trees of the forest.
"If I have enough breath left with which to reach that little house, I may be saved," he said to himself.
Not waiting another moment, he darted swiftly through the woods, the Assassins still after him.
After a hard race of almost an hour, tired and out of breath, Pinocchio finally reached the door of the cottage and knocked. No one answered.
He knocked again, harder than before, for behind him he heard the steps and the labored breathing of his persecutors. The same silence followed.
As knocking was of no use, Pinocchio, in despair, began to kick and bang against the door, as if he wanted to break it. At the noise, a window opened and a lovely maiden looked out. She had azure hair and a face white as wax. Her eyes were closed and her hands crossed on her breast. With a voice so weak that it hardly could be heard, she whispered:
"No one lives in this house. Everyone is dead."
"Won't you, at least, open the door for me?" cried Pinocchio in a beseeching voice.
"I also am dead."
"Dead? What are you doing at the window, then?"

Mary Cassatt painting

Mary Cassatt painting
On account of the gold pieces in his mouth, Pinocchio could not say a word, so he tried with head and hands and body to show, as best he could, that he was only a poor Marionette without a penny in his pocket.
"Come, come, less nonsense, and out with your money!" cried the two thieves in threatening voices.
Once more, Pinocchio's head and hands said, "I haven't a penny."
"Out with that money or you're a dead man," said the taller of the two Assassins.
"Dead man," repeated the other.
"And after having killed you, we will kill your father also."
"Your father also!"
"No, no, no, not my Father!" cried Pinocchio, wild with terror; but as he screamed, the gold pieces tinkled together in his mouth.
"Ah, you rascal! So that's the game! You have the money hidden under your tongue. Out with it!"
But Pinocchio was as stubborn as ever.
"Are you deaf? Wait, young man, we'll get it from you in a twinkling!"
One of them grabbed the Marionette by the nose and the other by the chin, and they pulled him unmercifully from side to side in order to make him open his mouth.

painting idea

painting idea
I found the Palace of Green Porcelain, when we approached it about noon, deserted and falling into ruin. Only ragged vestiges of glass remained in its windows, and great sheets of the green facing had fallen away from the corroded metallic framework. It lay very high upon a turfy down, and looking north-eastward before I entered it, I was surprised to see a large estuary, or even creek, where I judged Wandsworth and Battersea must once have been. I thought then--though I never followed up the thought--of what might have happened, or might be happening, to the living things in the sea.
`The material of the Palace proved on examination to be indeed porcelain, and along the face of it I saw an inscription in some unknown character. I thought, rather foolishly, that Weena might help me to interpret this, but I only learned that the bare idea of writing had never entered her head. She always seemed to me, I fancy, more human than she was, perhaps because her affection was so human. Within the big valves of the door--which were open and broken--we found, instead of the customary hall, a long gallery lit by many side windows. At the first

mona lisa painting

mona lisa painting
"I am come to despise thee," said he. "Thou would’st not have an honorable Prince! Thou could’st not prize the rose and the nightingale, but thou wast ready to kiss the swineherd for the sake of a trumpery plaything. Thou art rightly served."
　　He then went back to his own little kingdom, and shut the door of his palace in her face. Now she might well sing,
　　"Ach! du lieber Augustin,
　　Alles ist weg, weg, weg!"Many years ago, there was an Emperor, who was so excessively fond of new clothes, that he spent all his money in dress. He did not trouble himself in the least about his soldiers; nor did he care to go either to the theatre or the chase, except for the opportunities then afforded him for displaying his new clothes. He had a different suit for each hour of the day; and as of any other king or emperor, one is accustomed to say, "he is sitting in council," it was always said of him, "The Emperor is sitting in his wardrobe."

da vinci painting

da vinci painting

"What can be the reason for such a crowd close by the pigsty?" said the Emperor, who happened just then to step out on the balcony; he rubbed his eyes, and put on his spectacles. "They are the ladies of the court; I must go down and see what they are about!" So he pulled up his slippers at the heel, for he had trodden them down.
　　As soon as he had got into the court-yard, he moved very softly, and the ladies were so much engrossed with counting the kisses, that all might go on fairly, that they did not perceive the Emperor. He rose on his tiptoes.
　　"What is all this?" said he, when he saw what was going on, and he boxed the Princess’s ears with his slipper, just as the swineherd was taking the eighty-sixth kiss.
　　"March out!" said the Emperor, for he was very angry; and both Princess and swineherd were thrust out of the city.
　　The Princess now stood and wept, the swineherd scolded, and the rain poured down.
　　"Alas! Unhappy creature that I am!" said the Princess. "If I had but married the handsome young Prince! Ah! how unfortunate I am!"
　　And the swineherd went behind a tree, washed the black and brown color from his face, threw off his dirty clothes, and stepped forth in his princely robes; he looked so noble that the Princess could not help bowing before him.

leonardo da vinci mona lisa

leonardo da vinci mona lisa
"Ah, that is superbe!" said the Princess when she passed by. "I have never heard prettier compositions! Go in and ask him the price of the instrument; but mind, he shall have no more kisses!"
　　"He will have a hundred kisses from the Princess!" said the lady who had been to ask.
　　"I think he is not in his right senses!" said the Princess, and walked on, but when she had gone a little way, she stopped again. "One must encourage art," said she, "I am the Emperor’s daughter. Tell him he shall, as on yesterday, have ten kisses from me, and may take the rest from the ladies of the court."
　　"Oh--but we should not like that at all!" said they. "What are you muttering?" asked the Princess. "If I can kiss him, surely you can. Remember that you owe everything to me." So the ladies were obliged to go to him again.
　　"A hundred kisses from the Princess," said he, "or else let everyone keep his own!"
　　"Stand round!" said she; and all the ladies stood round her whilst the kissing was going on.

landscape art painting

landscape art painting 马英九5.5日在台北接受日本产经新闻的专访，马英九对国家主席胡锦涛访日表示：“只要是对地区和平与繁荣有益的事，当然都受到欢迎”，并指出“台湾在新政权成立后，将加强与中国大陆经济的联系，对地区的发展做出贡献。”　
　　据台湾《联合报》报道，马英九是接受产经驻台北支局长长谷川周人的专访，他指出，中国大陆的经济发展，对东亚经济的发展应该是“正面多于负面”。他说，作为下一任台湾地区领导人，他有信心藉由与中国大陆的关系缓和，让台湾的经济迈向活性化。　
[ 转自铁血社区 http://bbs.tiexue.net/ ]
　　不过他也表示，“如果过度对中国大陆经济的依赖，将会让台湾有被中国大陆吞噬的危机”，所以他还是重申不统、不独、不武的主张。　
　　一方面，他认为“与中国大陆经济的联系，将可以为东亚地区带来和平与安定”，另一方面他又表明“台湾并不是香港”，努力想清除部分舆论所担心的与中国大陆过度接近可能失去台湾的主体性。　

art deco painting

art deco painting
“不入虎穴，焉得虎子”，这一次去虽然凶险，但也并不是全无把握，朱治为孙坚旧部，先是追随孙坚征伐过周朝、苏马，后又从坚征讨过董卓，乃是一员经验丰富、持重稳健的大将，孙策不派别人，而派朱治，不会仅仅为了驱赶许贡，更大的目的是安抚民众、平肃贼寇、经略吴郡，以为治所。
　　由拳。
　　这里离昔日吴越檇李之战故址不足五里，在吴中的民间，俗传三泖中，每风息云开，衢甃井阑毕见，盖由拳因此而得名。朱治的二千人马从钱唐长驱直入，一路过乌程、海盐等地，诸路贼寇触之即溃，望风而逃，短短二日之内便到了吴中门户——由拳。
　　“什么人，敢到这里偷窥我军情报，真是活得不耐烦了？”我刚接近朱治大营，便被巡营的兵卒发现，随后五花大绑将我捆了起来。
　　“我有要事，带我去见你们将军。”我没有挣扎，任由着士卒捆住我的手脚。
　　旁边一个槐梧的士卒推了我一把，骂道：“哎——，你小子以为自已是谁，想见将军是吗，先问问老子手里的鞭子答应不答应？”
　　说罢，鞭子高高扬起，意欲朝我劈头盖脸就打了下来。

thomas kinkade painting

thomas kinkade painting
周泰长叹一声，愧然道：“前番击破雷薄的三千精兵，风光倒是风光，可惜成了众矢之的，袁术盛怒之下，复遣大将张勋、梁就引兵万余征剿，众寡实在悬殊，一战之下我军惨败，不得已只好率众南避，这不正好赶上孙策挥师南下，我正想着怎么弄个见面礼去投效孙策呢？
　　我沉吟道：“如今汉室虽微，尚无商纣之虐，百姓自黄巾离乱之后，拥汉思安之心日切，故妄动刀兵者必不持久，兄长为抗袁术暴政，举事于草莽之中，然袁家四世三公，根基深厚，归附者不在少数，在那些人眼中，兄长举兵揭起安不和黄巾贼众并论，故四方诸侯无不争相围而攻之。”
　　周泰点头道：“是啊，开始的时侯我们还连着打了好几个胜仗，可打到后来，各地的官吏都来围剿，敌人越来越多，我们的人却越打越少，这其中的道理今日听贤弟一说才明白，看来即便是再举事的话，结果也是和黄巾军一般。”
　　我道：“孙策将门虎子，麾下精兵良将甚多，如今思谋江东，正是用人之际，兄长此去必得重用。”
　　周泰转忧为喜道：“贤弟如此一说，肯定不错，那刘繇空有扬州牧之名，而无精兵强将相佐，你我兄弟何不同往投效孙策？”
　　我强作笑颜道：“兄长若去，乃为择明主而相投，只是我乃刘繇军卒，若同去则是阵前降敌，此为逆谋之罪，是英雄者不为也。”

floral oil painting

floral oil painting
　某人，姓高，名宠，字少冲，扬州吴郡人氏也（今属苏州）。宠年方二十，喜好三国之事，一日沉迷于网络文学，忽见某书点击率奇高，欣而阅之，大呼“好书也！”，遂目不暇接看完，犹意未尽，求后文之心日切，复每日点看有无更新状，然数月不见新文，遂精神不振、茶饭不思，后经医诊确认：此为“网络中毒症”也。
　　一年余，某人痊愈，复上网，再见前文，竟无前番点滴沉迷之感，每阅章节，见数处更有谬误或错字连连，遂呼“不过如此而已！”，然见诸小辈仍执迷不悟，不忿之余发贴一一驳之，一时间剑拔弩张，口舌之争不断，力战月余，某人势寡不敌，遂隐姓埋名，作深潜状。
　　复有一年，某人心血来潮，复翻旧贴，感慨万千，遂起笔自书一文，曰：“《新三国策》。”，简介云：“生死无二志，丈夫何壮哉！腹内藏经史，胸中隐甲兵。真烈心无异，坚刚志更清。豪气贯长虹，成败复谁论!”。
　　某人更手书如下创作限定：
　　一、高宠之三国，为冷兵器横行之时代，抛弃一切超时空武器（如手枪、步枪、机枪、飞机、大炮、坦克、航空器、宇宙飞船等等），抛弃一切不符合当时生产力发展的先进制度（如三权分立、西方神教、马克思主义理论等等），原因其它，因为某人有想当一把“皇帝”的癖好。

Marc Chagall Painting

Marc Chagall Painting
过去几个月来，源自中国的大规模网络攻击包括了对国家信息中心（针对的是国家安全委员会）和外交部的攻击。
消息人士说，其他政府计算机网络也经常受到攻击，但没有导致网络瘫痪。
[ 转自铁血社区 http://bbs.tiexue.net/ ]
印度正在秘密构建防御机制，但网络战尚未成为印度安全观的重要部分。实现国家安全需要对威胁本质进行深入了解。
由官员们组成的志愿队展开了对攻击的日常防御工作。但关键问题在于印度的报复性进攻系统尚未建成。
消息人士认为这不难。中国的计算机网络漏洞百出———而且，众所周知，印度是IT巨人“消息人士认为这不难。中国的计算机网络漏洞百出———而且，众所周知，印度是IT巨人”
这句话有点意思，他们是巨人的话，那么其它算什么兰。 既然印度是IT巨人，还怕中国网络攻击？简直是无病呻吟。

wholesale oil painting

wholesale oil painting
朝鲜用不着太多先进的武器，有几千门大炮对着汉城就行了，有中国在后面站着，任何人也不敢把朝鲜怎么样，现在的格局就很好。北方解放南方，或者南方统一北方，那都是在玩火，最后都会烧着中国和美国。中国那么多领土接壤小国,老美拿下任何一个都会让中国苦不堪言!老美不想吗?不!是不敢!老美不敢,这些小国更不敢!
为何?!
1/朝鲜一战;2/对越反击战(背后当时对抗严重的前苏联,南北夹击可不是邓公想看到的)!任何问题都是可以谈的，任何问题也都是可以通过谈判解决的，坐下来好好谈谈，不要急。慢慢谈，一次谈不成，多谈几次就是了，谈判就是了~
这是中国的一贯主张，反正谈了也白谈，等咱本钱足够了就不用谈了~现在网上有些别有用心的人挑拨中朝关系，其心可诛。 不管怎样中朝的根本利益是一致的。当时高中还不怎么知道时事，中央新闻上是什么也不说
直到最近看到一篇03年中美特种部队在缅交手的事情才大致了解了些...
应该适当开放点透明度，让老百姓明白世界并不太平，人民军队没有一刻停止保家卫国呵呵，虽然朝鲜不是什么好鸟，但是千百年来一直受中国的庇护，唇亡齿寒的道理谁都知道。
还是一句话，国家之间没有永远的朋友，只有永恒的利益！

Edward Hopper Painting

Edward Hopper Painting
5月2日晚，凤凰卫视的《新闻今日谈》节目，对余博士的这段文字作了一番解读，作为读过余博士《军事与经济互动论》的我，对凤凰卫视著名军事节目主持人马鼎盛先生的诠释和解读，实在感到失望，由此我又联想到2006年10月份马先生对解放军总部机关组织的一次 “确山--2006”军事演习的解读，很多观点、很多情况都与现实相距甚远，甚至“风马牛不相及”。我不禁惊讶，这位喜欢在地图上圈圈点点的军事评论员，原来一直以其不够准确的军事情报、不大丰富的军事知识、不够成熟的军事认知，“忽悠”着不明真相的观众。
　　尤其值得说道说道的，是马先生竟然在对余博士的观点没有完整消化理解的情况下，就断然说余是在主张发展武器装备与美国抗衡，严防美国的侵略之类，特别拿中国军队曾经靠“小米加步枪”打败过强大敌人说事，等等的一些很幼稚的解说。 对于中国军力，只有经过调查了解情况的人才有发言权！
鞋子合不合脚，只有自己才知道！！！
[ 转自铁血社区 http://bbs.tiexue.net/ ]
人们常说外行看热闹，内行看门道，马先生的一家之言，不足惊奇！！！

Famous painting

Famous painting
又是一夜过去了。全体参战人员的体力消耗实在太大了。大量的汗水浸透了身上的棉衣，严重的脱水，使人人口干舌燥，十分难受。同志们不时利用小憩片刻去吸吮路边树叶上的露滴，用以润喉和润湿干裂的口唇。运气好时人，偶尔也能从石缝中接到半瓷缸渗水，端来供战友传喝。耳中虽然能听到山脊两边深谷中哗哗的流水声，可是此时谁也无法把水打上来。
这是一条漫长的山脊小道。根据战前上级通报指出，这条缺水地带就是那条1913年，由英军F..M..贝利上尉带小分队踏勘过的，并为其1914年炮制“麦克马洪线”提供了地理资料的、既严重缺水又因其崎岖难行的、被印度人称之为“贝利小道”的那条有名的道路。虽然印军情报句屡称：“大部队不可能从这条路上通过。英军官贝利上尉的艰险经历，也使人相信中国军队不可选择此险途”，尽管如此，印军“王牌师“---第4师师长A.S.巴尔特尼亚.辛格少将还是从部迪格调来阿莎姆步兵第5营等分队沿“贝利小道”北上侦察、设点，以肃清南下的“小股中国军队”，以确保印军右翼的安全。

画龙装饰画

画龙装饰画

　“我们不怕英国人，英国人的那只远东舰队不是我们的对手？”
　　“那别的舰队呢？大西洋舰队呢？地中海舰队呢？印度洋舰队呢？如何任意两只舰队合并起来呢？谭司令你是否还有这样的信心呢？”
　　“这……。”
　　“所以我认为，应该区别一下，释放出足够的善意来麻痹英国人。”
　　赵刚摆摆手，发表了自己的意见“我有一个办法，可以让英国人在五年之内无暇顾及到我们？”
　　听到赵刚的话，众人都是不信外交部长唐绍仪率先问道：
　　“赵总统，能把你的想法说一下吗？”
　　“唐部长，这个不能说，但是我有绝对的把握….。”
　　“赵总统，我觉得绝对的把握是不可能的，我们不能把国家的命运押在一个虚无飘渺的承诺上，你能给出这个证明的期限吗？”
　　赵刚牙咬得紧紧的，但是在老丈人面前不敢没了礼数，恭敬的回答道：
　　“在一年之内，就能看到效果。”
　　“一年时间太长了，外交上承受的压力也太大了，能不能半年之内完成？”

painting in oil

painting in oil
司令，这个恐怕有难度，这两个师散布在各地，很难聚在一起的。”
　　一旁的唐绍仪也劝道：“赵司令，我军连番大战，也是疲惫不堪。不入我去一次俄罗斯，向他们晓以利害，多少给他们一些好处。俄罗斯穷兵黩武，日后必然亡国，我们犯不着与他们较劲。”
　　一旁众人纷纷附和，赵刚强自压住心中怒火，指了指鲁登道夫：
　　“鲁登道夫，你会怎样做？”
　　鲁登道夫连想都没想：“立刻消灭敌人，保护我国公民，而且要让敌人付出十倍的代价！”
　　赵刚环顾四周：“看看，这就是德国人的思维，我们泱泱大国，难道就没有这样的志气！”
　　这话说得有些重了，一般的人都不敢接着说了，唐绍仪心里话也被堵在嘴里，只有詹天佑脾气直，站出来替唐绍仪说话。
　　“赵司令，你常说大清朝和日本开战，是不明智的。那你这种做法，与清朝何异？”
　　“问得好，清朝与日本比，吏治腐败，军事落后，开战乃不得已为之。但是主战派强迫开战，这就是以弱击强，这叫愚蠢。”