Albert Bierstadt Valley of the Yosemite

Albert Bierstadt Valley of the YosemiteAlbert Bierstadt the oregon trailSir Lawrence Alma-Tadema Caracalla and GetaFranz Marc The MonkeyFranz Marc Rinder
Bye, then, Windle,’ he said, shaking the old man’s parchment-like hand.’The old place won’t seem the same without you.’ ‘Don’t know how we’ll manage,’ said the Bursar, thankfully. ‘Good luck in the next life,’ said the Dean.’Drop in if you’re ever passing and happen to, you know, remember who you’ve been.’ ‘.
‘How are you feeling?’ said the Dean loudly.
‘Never felt better,’ said Windle.’Is there any more of that, mm, rum left?’ The assembled wizards watched him pour a generous measure into his beaker.
‘You want to go easy on that stuff,’ said the Dean nervously.Don’t be a stranger, you hear?’ said the Archchancellor. Windle Poons nodded amiably. He hadn’t heard what they were saying. He nodded on general principles.The wizards, as one man, faced the door.The hatch under the 12 snapped up again.‘Bing bing bong bing,’ said the demon.’Bingely-bingely bong bing bing.’‘What?’ said the Bursar, jolted.‘Half past nine, ‘ said the demon.The wizards turned to Windle Poons. They looked faintly accusing.‘What’re you all looking at?’ he said.The seconds hand on the watch squeaked onwards