flower landscape oil painting
mountain landscape painting
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betweens, that the evening flew away at a very unusual rate; and the supper-table, which always closed such parties, and for which she had been used to sit and watch the due time, was all set out and ready, and moved forwards to the fire, before she was aware. With an alacrity beyond the common impulse of a spirit which yet was never indifferent to the credit of doing every thing well and attentively, with the real good-will of a mind delighted with its own ideas,
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did she then do all the honours of the meal, and help and recommend the minced chicken and scalloped oysters, with an urgency which she knew would be acceptable to the early hours and civil scruples of their guests. Upon such occasions poor Mr. Woodhouses feelings were in sad warfare. He loved to have the cloth laid, because it had been the fashion of his youth, but his conviction of suppers being very unwholesome made him rather sorry to see any thing put on it; and while his hospitality would have welcomed his visitors to every thing, his care for their health made him grieve that they would eat.
Showing posts with label flower landscape oil painting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label flower landscape oil painting. Show all posts
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
flower landscape oil painting
flower landscape oil painting
mountain landscape painting
fine art oil painting
african art painting
¡¡¡¡As to the washerwoman pawning the clothes, and coming in a state of penitent intoxication to apologize, I suppose that might have happened several times to anybody. Also the chimney on fire, the parish engine, and perjury on the part of the Beadle. But I apprehend that we were personally fortunate in engaging a servant with a taste for cordials, who swelled our running account for porter at the public-house by such inexplicable items as 'quartern rum shrub (Mrs. C.)'; 'Half-quartern gin and cloves (Mrs. C.)'; 'Glass rum and peppermint (Mrs. C.)' - the parentheses always referring to Dora, who was supposed, it appeared on explanation,
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to have imbibed the whole of these refreshments. ¡¡¡¡One of our first feats in the housekeeping way was a little dinner to Traddles. I met him in town, and asked him to walk out with me that afternoon. He readily consenting, I wrote to Dora, saying I would bring him home. It was pleasant weather, and on the road we made my domestic happiness the theme of conversation. Traddles was very full of it; and said, that, picturing himself with such a home, and Sophy waiting and preparing for him, he could think of nothing wanting to complete his bliss.
mountain landscape painting
fine art oil painting
african art painting
¡¡¡¡As to the washerwoman pawning the clothes, and coming in a state of penitent intoxication to apologize, I suppose that might have happened several times to anybody. Also the chimney on fire, the parish engine, and perjury on the part of the Beadle. But I apprehend that we were personally fortunate in engaging a servant with a taste for cordials, who swelled our running account for porter at the public-house by such inexplicable items as 'quartern rum shrub (Mrs. C.)'; 'Half-quartern gin and cloves (Mrs. C.)'; 'Glass rum and peppermint (Mrs. C.)' - the parentheses always referring to Dora, who was supposed, it appeared on explanation,
oil painting
to have imbibed the whole of these refreshments. ¡¡¡¡One of our first feats in the housekeeping way was a little dinner to Traddles. I met him in town, and asked him to walk out with me that afternoon. He readily consenting, I wrote to Dora, saying I would bring him home. It was pleasant weather, and on the road we made my domestic happiness the theme of conversation. Traddles was very full of it; and said, that, picturing himself with such a home, and Sophy waiting and preparing for him, he could think of nothing wanting to complete his bliss.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
flower landscape oil painting
flower landscape oil painting
mountain landscape painting
fine art oil painting
african art painting
¡¡¡¡ "I don't really think I could. It would be so very painful to talk to her now--for her as much as for me. However, she's gone. Did she say she would come again?" ¡¡¡¡ "No. But she went away very reluctantly." ¡¡¡¡ Sue, whom the least thing upset, could not eat any supper, and when Jude had finished his he prepared to go to bed. He had no sooner raked out the fire, fastened the doors, and got to the top of the stairs than there came a knock. Sue instantly emerged from her room, which she had but just entered. ¡¡¡¡ "There she is again!" Sue whispered in appalled accents. ¡¡¡¡ "How do you know?" ¡¡¡¡ "She knocked like that last time." They listened, and the knocking came again. No servant was kept in the house, and if the summons were to be responded to one of them would have to do it in person. "I'll open a window," said Jude. "Whoever it is cannot be expected to be let in at this time." ¡¡¡¡ He accordingl
oil paintingy went into his bedroom and lifted the sash. The lonely street of early retiring workpeople was empty from end to end save of one figure--that of a woman walking up and down by the lamp a few yards off. ¡¡¡¡ "Who's there?" he asked. ¡¡¡¡ "Is that Mr. Fawley?" came up from the woman, in a voice which was unmistakably Arabella's. ¡¡¡¡ Jude replied that it was. ¡¡¡¡ "Is it she?" asked Sue from the door, with lips apart. ¡¡¡¡ "Yes, dear," said Jude. "What do you want, Arabella?" he inquired. ¡¡¡¡ "I beg your pardon, Jude, for disturbing you," said Arabella humbly. "But I called earlier--I wanted particularly to see you to-night, if I could. I am in trouble, and have nobody to help me!"
mountain landscape painting
fine art oil painting
african art painting
¡¡¡¡ "I don't really think I could. It would be so very painful to talk to her now--for her as much as for me. However, she's gone. Did she say she would come again?" ¡¡¡¡ "No. But she went away very reluctantly." ¡¡¡¡ Sue, whom the least thing upset, could not eat any supper, and when Jude had finished his he prepared to go to bed. He had no sooner raked out the fire, fastened the doors, and got to the top of the stairs than there came a knock. Sue instantly emerged from her room, which she had but just entered. ¡¡¡¡ "There she is again!" Sue whispered in appalled accents. ¡¡¡¡ "How do you know?" ¡¡¡¡ "She knocked like that last time." They listened, and the knocking came again. No servant was kept in the house, and if the summons were to be responded to one of them would have to do it in person. "I'll open a window," said Jude. "Whoever it is cannot be expected to be let in at this time." ¡¡¡¡ He accordingl
oil paintingy went into his bedroom and lifted the sash. The lonely street of early retiring workpeople was empty from end to end save of one figure--that of a woman walking up and down by the lamp a few yards off. ¡¡¡¡ "Who's there?" he asked. ¡¡¡¡ "Is that Mr. Fawley?" came up from the woman, in a voice which was unmistakably Arabella's. ¡¡¡¡ Jude replied that it was. ¡¡¡¡ "Is it she?" asked Sue from the door, with lips apart. ¡¡¡¡ "Yes, dear," said Jude. "What do you want, Arabella?" he inquired. ¡¡¡¡ "I beg your pardon, Jude, for disturbing you," said Arabella humbly. "But I called earlier--I wanted particularly to see you to-night, if I could. I am in trouble, and have nobody to help me!"
Thursday, November 22, 2007
flower landscape oil painting
flower landscape oil painting
mountain landscape painting
fine art oil painting
african art painting
The faintness of the voice was pitiable and dreadful. It was not the faintness of physical weakness, though confinement and hard fare no doubt had their part in it. Its deplorable peculiarity was, that it was the faintness of solitude and disuse. It was like the last feeble echo of a sound made long and long ago. So entirely had it lost the life and resonance of the human voice, that it affected the senses like a once beautiful colour faded away into a poor weak stain. So sunken and suppressed it was, that it was like a voice underground. So expressive it was, of a hopeless and lost creature, that a famished traveller, wearied out by lonely wandering in a wilderness, would have remembered home and friends in such a tone before lying down to die. ¡¡¡¡Some minutes of silent work had passed: and the haggard eyes had looked up again: not with any interest or curiosity, but with a dull mechanical perception, beforehand, that the spot where the only visitor they were aware of had stood, was not yet empty. ¡¡¡¡"I want," said Defarge, who had not removed his gaze from the shoemaker, "to let in a little more light here. You can bear a little more?" ¡¡¡¡The shoemaker stopped his work; looked with a vacant air of listening, at the floor on one side of him; then similarly, at the floor on the other side of him; then, upward at the speaker. ¡¡¡¡"What did you say?" ¡¡¡¡"You can bear a little more light?" ¡¡¡¡"I must bear it, if you let it in." (Laying the palest shadow of a stress upon the second word.) ¡¡¡¡The opened half-door was opened a little further, and secured at that angle for the time. A broad ray of light fell into the garret, and showed the workman with an unfinished shoe upon his lap, pausing in his labour. His few common tools and various scraps of leather were at his feet and on his bench. He had a white beard, raggedly cut, but not very long, a hollow face
mountain landscape painting
fine art oil painting
african art painting
The faintness of the voice was pitiable and dreadful. It was not the faintness of physical weakness, though confinement and hard fare no doubt had their part in it. Its deplorable peculiarity was, that it was the faintness of solitude and disuse. It was like the last feeble echo of a sound made long and long ago. So entirely had it lost the life and resonance of the human voice, that it affected the senses like a once beautiful colour faded away into a poor weak stain. So sunken and suppressed it was, that it was like a voice underground. So expressive it was, of a hopeless and lost creature, that a famished traveller, wearied out by lonely wandering in a wilderness, would have remembered home and friends in such a tone before lying down to die. ¡¡¡¡Some minutes of silent work had passed: and the haggard eyes had looked up again: not with any interest or curiosity, but with a dull mechanical perception, beforehand, that the spot where the only visitor they were aware of had stood, was not yet empty. ¡¡¡¡"I want," said Defarge, who had not removed his gaze from the shoemaker, "to let in a little more light here. You can bear a little more?" ¡¡¡¡The shoemaker stopped his work; looked with a vacant air of listening, at the floor on one side of him; then similarly, at the floor on the other side of him; then, upward at the speaker. ¡¡¡¡"What did you say?" ¡¡¡¡"You can bear a little more light?" ¡¡¡¡"I must bear it, if you let it in." (Laying the palest shadow of a stress upon the second word.) ¡¡¡¡The opened half-door was opened a little further, and secured at that angle for the time. A broad ray of light fell into the garret, and showed the workman with an unfinished shoe upon his lap, pausing in his labour. His few common tools and various scraps of leather were at his feet and on his bench. He had a white beard, raggedly cut, but not very long, a hollow face
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