The Nut Gatherers

The Nut Gatherers
The Painter's Honeymoon
the polish rider
The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
I believed, from the solitary and thoughtful way in which my mother murmured her song, that she was alone. And I went softly into the room. She was sitting by the fire, suckling an infant, whose tiny hand she held against her neck. Her eyes were looking down upon its face, and she sat singing to it. I was so far right, that she had no other companion. ¡¡¡¡I spoke to her, and she started, and cried out. But seeing me, she called me her dear Davy, her own boy! and coming half across the room to meet me, kneeled down upon the ground and kissed me, and laid my head down on her bosom near the little creature that was nestling there,
oil painting
and put its hand to my lips. ¡¡¡¡I wish I had died. I wish I had died then, with that feeling in my heart! I should have been more fit for Heaven than I ever have been since. ¡¡¡¡'He is your brother,' said my mother, fondling me. 'Davy, my pretty boy! My poor child!' Then she kissed me more and more, and clasped me round the neck. This she was doing when Peggotty came running in, and bounced down on the ground beside us, and went mad about us both for a quarter of an hour