David Hardy paintings

David Hardy paintings
Dirck Bouts paintings
Dante Gabriel Rossetti paintings
His room was filled with a. strange jumble of objects - a harmonium in a gothic case, an elephant’s-foot waste-paper basket, a dome of wax fruit, two disproportionately large Sèvres vases, framed drawings by Daumier - made all the more incongruous by the austere c furniture and the large luncheon table. His chimney-piece was covered in cards of invitation from London hostesses.
‘That beast Hobson has put Aloysius next door,’ he said. ‘Perhaps it’s as well, as there
wouldn’t have been any plovers’ eggs for him. D’you know, Hobson hates Aloysius. I wish I had a scout like yours. He was sweet to me this morning where some people might have been quite strict.’
The party assembled. There were three Etonian freshmen, mild, elegant, detached young men who had all been to a dance in London the night before, and spoke of it as though it had been the funeral of a near but unloved

Francois Boucher paintings

Francois Boucher paintings
Frank Dicksee paintings
Ford Madox Brown paintings
mouthed politely behind the railings.
‘Cheeroh, chum, we’ll be seeing you’; ‘We shan’t be long now’; ‘Keep smiling till we meet again’, the men called to them.
I was marching with Hooper at, the head of the leading platoon.
‘I say, any idea where we’re off to? ‘
‘None.’
‘Do you think it’s the real thing?’
‘No.’
‘Just a flap?’
‘Yes.’
‘Everyone’s been saying we’re for it. I don’t know what to think really. Seems so silly somehow, all this drill and training if we never go into action.’ ‘I shouldn’t worry. There’ll be plenty for everyone in time.’
‘Oh, I don’t want much you know. Just enough to say I’ve been in it.’ A train of antiquated coaches was waiting for us at the siding; an R.T.O. was in charge; a fatigue party was loading the last of. the kit-bags from the trucks

Maxfield Parrish paintings

Maxfield Parrish paintings
Martin Johnson Heade paintings
Nancy O'Toole paintings
fact he simply lost his head, and flew at Tom’s throat. A tremendous fight ensued in which Tom with his knowledge of boxing gave him, gave Smith an “up shot” blow that fairly staggered him. But in the end weight won and Tom was knocked senseless to the ground: but Smith was not a fellow to leave him there, he carried him up the steps and laying him down at the door of the library, then closing the door of the secret cave, and putting back the old volume in the library as he found it, he went back to bed.
Sir Alfred came striding along the passage to the library when he suddenly stopped in utter astonishment. “Tom!” he gasped as he saw the boy’s pale face.

When Tom came to consciousness he found himself in a soft feather bed with a nurse at his bedside. “Ah! that’s good, he is conscious now” she whispered. “Why did Smith attack me? asked Tom feebly. “He’s delirious” said the nurse turning to the doctor, “I thought

Thomas Kinkade Mountain Memories painting

Thomas Kinkade Mountain Memories paintingThomas Kinkade Footprints in the sand paintingThomas Kinkade Christmas Cottage painting
countries on their feet.
“The Commissar does not understand how this concerns the Jews.”
Major Gordon spoke of the millions of displaced persons all over Europe who must be returned to their “The Commissar says that is an internal matter.”
“So is bridge building.”
“The Commissar says bridge building is a good thing.”
“So is helping displaced persons.”
Commissar and General conferred. “The General says any questions of internal affairs should be addressed to the Minister of the Interior.”
“Tell him that I am very sorry if I have acted incorrectly. I merely wished to save everyone trouble. I was sent a question by my superiors. I did my best to answer it in the simplest way. May I now request the Minister of the Interior to furnish me with a list of the Jews?”
“The General is glad that you understand that you have acted incorrectly.”
“Will the Minister of the Interior be so kind as to make the list for me?”
“The General does not understand why a list is needed.”

Lord Frederick Leighton Leighton Mother and Child painting

Lord Frederick Leighton Leighton Mother and Child paintingLord Frederick Leighton Leighton Music Lesson paintingRaphael The Sistine Madonna painting
in Bellorius. It was never strong. It wilted and died this morning when I learned that Irma was not of us. She has come for the Physical Training Congress.”
“I shall miss you.” rather than ill; almost exalted. He was still rather drunk. The windows stood wide open on to the balcony and on the balcony, modestly robed in bath towels, sat Miss Sveningen eating beefsteak.
“They tell me downstairs that you are not coming with us to Simona?”
“No. I’m not quite up to it this morning
“Stay with us for the gymnastics.”
For a second Scott-King hesitated. The future at Simona was obscure and rather threatening.
“There are to be five hundred female athletes. Contortionists perhaps from the Indies.”
“No,” said Scott-King at length

Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres La Grande baigneuse painting

Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres La Grande baigneuse paintingGuido Reni Archangel Michael paintingGuido Reni The Coronation of the Virgin painting
school buildings and took their meals in the common room. Scott-King came from his classroom where he had been taking early school, with his gown flowing behind him and a sheaf of fluttering exercise papers in his numb fingers. There had been no remission of wartime privations at Granchester. The cold grate was used as ashtray and wastepaper basket and was rarely emptied. The breakfast table was a litter of small pots, each labelled with a master’s name, containing rations of sugar, margarine and a spurious marmalade. The breakfast dish was a slop of “dried” eggs. Scott-King turned sadly from the sideboard. “Anyone,” he said, “is welcome to my share in this triumph of modern science.”
“Letter for you, Scottie,” said one of his colleagues. “‘The Honourable Professor Scott-King Esquire.’ Congratulations.”
It was a large, stiff envelope, thus oddly addressed, emblazoned on the flap with a coat of arms. Inside were a card and a letter. The card read: His Magnificence the Very Reverend the Rector of the University of Simona and the Committee of the Bellorius Tercentenary

Sandro Botticelli Madonna with the Child painting

Sandro Botticelli Madonna with the Child paintingJean Beraud Le Cafe de Paris paintingJean Beraud La Rue de la Paix painting
good for me,” I said, although, in fact, they would pass the corner of St. James’s where I was bound.
“I’ll come and watch you eat your sandwiches,” said Basil.
That was the end of our first meeting. I came away feeling badly about it, particularly the way in which she had used my Christian name and acquiesced in my joining them later. A commonplace girl who wanted to be snubbing, would have been conspicuously aloof and have said “Mr. Plant,” and I should have recovered some of the lost ground. But Lucy was faultless.
I have seen so many young wives go wrong on this point. They have either tried to force an intimacy with their husbands’ friends, claiming, as it were, continuity and identity with the powers of the invaded territory or they have cancelled the pas of the old régime and proclaimed that fresh application must be made to the new authorities and applicants be treated strictly on their merits. Lucy seemed serenely unaware of either danger. I had come inopportunely and been rather rude, but I was one of Roger’s friends; they were like his family to her, or hers to him; we had manifest defects which it was none of her

Gustav Klimt The Beethoven Frieze painting

Gustav Klimt The Beethoven Frieze paintingGustav Klimt Schloss Kammer Am Attersee II paintingGustav Klimt Portrait of Adele Bloch (gold foil) painting
ask grace for a postponement. I made two attempts on it, bearing the pile of foolscap to an upper room of the club which was known as the library and used by the elder members for sleeping between luncheon and tea. But I found it impossible to take up the story with any interest; I grew peevish about the time sequence, and half inclined to scrap all I had written and start anew; the murderess had had too much luck on the morning of the crime and the police were being unnaturally obtuse; they had reached a stage in the investigation when they must either tumble to the truth within six pages or miss it forever; I could not go on piling up clue and counterplot; why should not the wrong man get hanged for a change or the murderess walk in her sleep and proclaim the whole story? I had gone stale on it. So I went to my publisher and tried to explain.
“I have been for over eight years,” I said, “and am nearing a climacteric.”
“I don’t quite follow,” said Mr. Benwell anxiously.
“I mean a turning point in my .”
“Oh, dear, I hope you’re not thinking of making a contract elsewhere?”
“No, no, I mean that I feel in danger of turning into a stock bestseller.”
“If I may say so in very imminent danger,” said Benwell, and he made me a kind of little bow from the seat of his swivel chair and smirked in the wry people sometimes

Unknown Artist Audrey Hepburn pop art painting

Unknown Artist Audrey Hepburn pop art paintingClaude Monet Wheatfield under a Cloudy Sky paintingClaude Monet Bridge over a Pool of Water Lilies painting
Gervase went to Eton in the year of his father’s death. Tom would normally have followed him two years later, but in her new mood of economy, Mrs. Kent-Cumberland cancelled his entry and began canvassing her friends’ opinions about the less famous, cheaper public schools. “The education is just as good,” she said, “and far more suitable for a boy who has his own way to make in the world.”
Tom was happy enough at the school to which he was sent. It was very bleak and very new, salubrious, progressive, prosperous in the boom that secondary education enjoyed in the years immediately following the war, and, when all was said and done, “thoroughly suitable for a boy with his own way to make in the world.” He had several friends whom he was not allowed to invite to histhe. He got his House colours for swimming and fives, played once or twice in the second eleven for cricket, and was a platoon-commander in the O.T.C.; he was in the sixth form and passed the Higher Certificate in his last year, became a prefect and enjoyed the confidence of his house

Frank Dicksee La Belle Dame Sans Merci painting

Frank Dicksee La Belle Dame Sans Merci paintingSandro Botticelli The Birth of Venus paintingEdward Hopper Nighthawks painting
a matter of three pounds which Ralph had given to a whom Billy had discharged for drunkenness. I daresay that all that kind of thing has ceased nowadays, but at the time to which I refer, it was universally customary. No one had any sympathy with Billy but he pressed the charge and poor Ralph was unseated.
“Well, after this time, I really think that poor Ralph became a little unsettled in his mind. It is a very sad thing, Miss Myers, when a middle-aged man becomes obsessed by a grievance. You remember how difficult it was when the Vicar thought that Major Etheridge was persecuting him. He actually informed me that Major Etheridge put water in the petrol tank of his motor-cycle and gave sixpences to the choir boys to sing out of tune—well it was like that with poor Ralph. He made up his mind that Billy had deliberately ruined him. He took a cottage in the village and used to embarrass Billy terribly by coming to all the village fêtes

Thomas Gainsborough River Landscape painting

Thomas Gainsborough River Landscape paintingThomas Gainsborough Mr and Mrs Andrews paintingSandro Botticelli Madonna and Child painting
. McMaster hoisted him to his feet and, supporting him by the arm, led him across the hummocks of grass towards the farm.
“It is a very short way. When we get there I will give you something to make you better.”
“Jolly kind of you.” Presently he said: “I say, you speak English. I’m English, too. My name is Henty.”
“Well, Mr. Henty, you aren’t to bother about anything more. You’re ill and you’ve had a rough journey. I’ll take care of you.”
They went very slowly, but at length reached the house.
“Lie there in the hammock. I will fetch something for you.”
Mr. McMaster went into the back room of the house and dragged a tin canister from under a heap of skins. It was full of a mixture of dried leaf and bark. He took a handful and went outside to the fire. When he returned he put one hand behind Henty’s head and held up the concoction of herbs in a calabash for him to drink. He sipped, shuddering slightly at

Pierre-Auguste Cot spring painting

Pierre-Auguste Cot spring paintingWilliam Bouguereau the first kiss paintingClaude Monet Water Lily Pond painting
magnificent lunch, and he did not regret it.
As he stood there, meditating what he could do, his arm was suddenly taken from behind, and turning he saw a smartly dressed Frenchman, who had evidently just left the restaurant. It was his friend the military attaché.
“I was sitting at the table behind you,” he said. “You never noticed me, you were so intent on your food.”
“It is probably my last meal for some time,” Boris explained, and his friend laughed at what he took to be a joke.
They walked up the street together, talking rapidly. The Frenchman described how he had left the army when his time of service was up, and was now a director of a prosperous motor “And you, too,” he said. “I am delighted to see that you also have been doing well.”
“Doing well? At the moment I have exactly three francs in the world.”
“My dear fellow, people with three francs in the world do not eat caviare at Larne.”
Then for the first time he noticed Boris’s frayed clothes. He had only known him in a war-worn uniform and it had seemed natural at first to find him dressed as he was.

Sandro Botticelli Madonna and Child painting

Sandro Botticelli Madonna and Child paintingSandro Botticelli La Primavera paintingSalvador Dali meditative rose painting
turned out the light stood out perfectly clearly. He could see the white, inconsolable face that had stared out at him from the looking glass; he could feel at the back of his tongue the salt and bitter taste of the poison. And then as the image of the taste began to bulk larger in yesterday had cleared away and the sun streamed into the small bedroom, lighting it up with amiable and unwelcome radiance. The distressing sound of a self-starter grappling in vain with a cold engine rang up from the yard below the window. Otherwise everything was quiet.
He cogitated: therefore he was.
From the dismal array of ills his field of consciousness, as though with the sudden breaking down of some intervening barrier another memory swept in on him blotting out all else with its intensity. He remembered

Vincent van Gogh Cafe Terrace at Night painting

Vincent van Gogh Cafe Terrace at Night paintingVincent van Gogh Wheatfield with Crows paintingVincent van Gogh Roses painting
declined the syringe of vinegar I offered to douche her with, but plugged her privity with sterile gauze to retain the insemination) put on her helmet and released the clutch, and we headed west.sniffed my amulet suspiciously, then nearly wept for joy upon realizing who I was. For some minutes we nuzzled wordlessly -- shocking how sere and shrunk her once-peerless udder, whose freckled daint had fired my youthful dreams! When at length I introduced her to My Ladyship
Our progress, however, with Tommy's Tommy's Tom in tow, proved poor. I was obliged at length to hogtie him -- revolting term -- with the tether and truss him behind me athwart the fender, much as I sympathized with his fright. By this arrangement, though his bleats would have moved to pity Ira Hector himself, we tripled our speed; once past the Gorge and crossroads, moreover, Anastasia displayed a skill at short-cuts equal to her husband's, and a truly Stokerish capacity for the speed that had so alarmed her as his passenger. The sun hung still a fair half-hour from the horizon when we hove in sight of Founder's Hill.

Gustav Klimt The Bride painting

,Gustav Klimt The Bride paintingGustav Klimt Hope paintingClaude Monet The Seine At Argenteuil painting
anger, as for an instant did the Chancellor's.
"For a man to strike his wife is a flunkèd thing," he declared firmly. "We don't live in the Dark Semesters any more. And we're not Furnace-Room mechanics."
"I should saynot," Mrs. Rexford snapped. "And I'll tell you something else, Mr. Giles, while we're on the subject: my husband might be the Chancellor, but --"
She stopped with a look of fright, for Rexford had suddenly raised his hand. In fact he only signaled the advance-guard to proceed, but even Anastasia gasped, and Mrs. Rexford never finished her sentence.
Her husband grinned. "See you on Founder's Hill this afternoon, Mr. Giles."
I reached to touch his temples, declaring him a Candidate for Passage and Commencement. But he shook his head and cordially declined. For one thing, he said, the gesture might be looked upon by his political enemies as some sort of bribe, or at least an endorsement of my authenticity, a matter too controversial for him to take a public stand on unless he had to; for another -- his grin was melancholy -- he reminded me that as

John William Godward The Old Old Story painting

John William Godward The Old Old Story paintingJohn William Waterhouse My Sweet Rose paintingJohn William Waterhouse John William Waterhouse Waterhouse Narcissus painting
still, quietly smoking. Co-eds squealed and clutched their escorts. The upheavel was not confined to WESCAC: every streetlight I could see behind Tower Hall was sparking, flashing over-bright and then popping out like a photographic lamp. The Telerama-crews cursed and scurried, issuing free torches to the crowd. Two of their number came forward with microphones as I picked myself up (Bray had landed on his feet), still dazed by the force of my ejection, the confusion of the scene, and the fact that I had once more, evidently, come through unEATen. There were no anthems this time; the crowd was too alarmed to sing.
Of the first reporter to reach us Bray demanded, "What's the trouble?" and was told that the East- and West-Campus Power Lines, according to sketchy reports from the scene, had either touched at some point or been moved to such proximity that an arc had flashed between them, short-circuiting at least temporarily the entire Powerhouse and causing no one knew how much damage to WESCAC and the campus generally.
"I see," Bray said, undisturbed. Light from a mobile generator now fell upon us, and

Cornfield with Cypresses

Cornfield with CypressesFord Smith Just Between UsApple Tree with Red Fruit
another, and betweenbooks andnon-books, is illusory, inasmuch as the Founder is One, and the Founder is All! Possibly his destruction and partial consumption of the Founder's Scroll is meant to demonstrate that teaching. Possibly not."
I was much impressed with this analysis, and with Bray's surprising grasp of my position, derived as it must have been from sketchy reports and observations of my long day's labor. The others appeared less convinced, but respectful of Bray's magnanimity and explicatory prowess. I regarded him closely for signs of guile, and found none.
"Understand," he concluded, "I don't say that this is the case, or that George Giles's teaching ismy teaching. . ." There were murmurs of agreement. "But is it for students to correct and discipline their masters? And until we have gone through the Belly unmasked, who dares say which is the student and which the master?" His expression seemed to grow sad, and his next words much moved me: the fact was, he declared, studentdom inevitablydid judge its Tutors, and being less than Tutors, inevitably judged wrong

Jean-Leon Gerome paintings

Jean-Leon Gerome paintings
Lorenzo Lotto paintings
Louis Aston Knight paintings
ungroomed, less washed even than I was, a stinkish bill-buck: and though a moment later I put by that feeling with some annoy, I let her go uncautioned, a-whisper in the gray-suit fellow's ear, and left the Light House by a different path. Crossing Great Mall I heard lady-shrieks and other commotion behind me, and was tempted to run with the others to the Light-House gate, to see what was happening. But already my faint shadow fell east of north; the hour was later than I'd supposed, and work remained to do.

Gimping hospitalwards, I scolded myself further for having let human upperclassness put me down. GILES, son of WESCAC, maternal grandson of Reginald Hector; laboratory eugenical specimen of the Grand-Tutorial ideal (no less rare even if false); protégé of Maximilian Spielman -- and a goat, by George: a brawny-bearded bigballed buck! Stepkid of Mary Appenzeller; stallmate of Redfearn's Tom; lover of Hedda of the Speckled

Philip Craig paintings

Philip Craig paintings
Paul McCormack paintings
Patrick Devonas paintings
Ira considered my shadow and squinted at me cunningly. "It's exactly eight o'clock."
However, as I mounted the motorcycle and Stoker throttled its engine, he cackled from the depths of his coat-collar: "I can turn your bad advice inside out, Goat-Boy, but you can't do that with the time of day! I got the best of you again!"
But I smiled -- and not merely to worry him, as I'd done with Stoker. For the fact was, I hadn't the slightest idea whether reversing my advice would flunk and therefore pass him, or vice-versa, and whether in either case he'd be passed or failed. Whereas I suspected he'd given me thecorrect time in order to mislead me, for an hour did seem to have elapsed since I'd heard that student say seven o'clock. But if he'd lied to his molesters too, I was no worse off, for Ira Hector desperately needed Grand-Tutoring, but I had no use at all for the time of day. Let him shriek after me (as he did), "It's later than you think!" How could it be, when I had no thought upon the matter?

Andrea Mantegna paintings

Andrea Mantegna paintings
Arthur Hughes paintings
Albert Bierstadt paintings
could hear again the fountain chortling near the door. Poor Redfearn's Tommy, he was not forgotten, his corpse lay as large in my thoughts as in his pen -- but it was bestrid gladiatorlike by a vaster fact, which wanted just this gurgled quiet fully to see. I raised myself up as far as I could without waking my legs.
"Then I'm not a goat? My sire and dam were both human people?"
As at the outset, Max replied only, "Forgive, forgive, Billy!"
"All this time I've been a human student, and didn't know it!"
"Ja ja." Max was down on his knees now, so that all I could see of him was his old forehead pressed against the table-edge. "I should've seen what it would come to. But forgive, Billy!"
Alas, his revelations so possessed me, it was some moments until I noticed his misery. Then I leaned quickly to shower benedictions upon his hair. Still I couldn't share his tears; half a score of inferences and conjectures importuned me. Distinguished human parents! Dark intrigues in the highest places to destroy and save me! Rescued toPass All Fail All !

Gustav Klimt The Tree of Life painting

Gustav Klimt The Tree of Life paintingGustav Klimt Expectation (gold foil) paintingGustav Klimt Death and Life painting
Stoker had returned to the Powerhouse with raped Anastasia after rescuing me from the noose, and in time had restored Furnace-Room output to three-quarters of its normal level; better than that he could not inspire Madge and the rest to do, by reason perhaps of his own loss of energy; even so, a part of the production was stored, or went up the Shaft in smoke, because New Tammany's power-consumption had dropped to fifty percent of normal. The decrease was owing not to reduced demands for power in the College -- they had never been higher -- but to the problems of distribution raised by Rexford's refusal to have any commerce with Maurice Stoker, whose presence he also forbade in the Great Mall area. This was the first of a series of prohibitions enacted by his administration in the following months: the ill-famed and short-lived "Open-Book Tests" designed to eliminate flunkèdness from New Tammany colle. Dormitory-brothels were shut down, their madams prosecuted. Adultery was made a criminal misdemeanor and rape a capital felony on the one hand, while celibacy on the other -- at least as represented by bachelor- and

John William Waterhouse The Lady of Shalott painting

John William Waterhouse The Lady of Shalott paintingLeonardo da Vinci The Last Supper paintingLeonardo da Vinci Mona Lisa Smile painting
out, expressing his pleasure in her company and his hope that they might have lunch together more often.
"Did he go to the Chancellor's Mansion then?" I asked.
She closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips to her temples. "I was so rattled, I can't rememberwhat he said after that." Seeing my sharp interest, she asked whether I knew what might have "come over" her husband.
"I have an idea," I admitted. "He and I had a little conversation this morning. . ." I considered whether to tell her that Maurice Stoker's apparent good behavior, if it was the result of our talk in Main Detention, was more flunkèd in its way than his former immoderacies; but I wasn't certain I could rehearse that difficult argument clearly, and so I simply cautioned her instead not to be seduced, by his new gentleness, out of her new chastity.
She frowned. "But suppose he. . . wants me for something, George? Or asks me to. . .do something for somebody? Iam his wife. . ."
Upon consideration I agreed that she