United States or Curaçao ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
We knew a stack of them at Knock, but Mollie Burrell was the best of the bundle." Sylvia smiled, but her lips felt stiff, and the effort was not a success. A little weight of depression settled over her spirits. She felt anything but sympathetic for the deprivations of Miss Mollie Burrell. Two days after Sylvia's return home, Pixie took the tinted photograph across the road for inspection.
"Oh, excuse me " the guest began. "It's the way they appear in the spirit life. It's a spirit picture." "Oh, I thought there was something strange about it." "Well, it's a good deal like the photograph we had taken about a year before they died. It's a good likeness. They say they don't change a great deal at first."
The same day the Chancellor visited Prince Ferdinand William Otto, and found him returned from his drive and busy over Hedwig's photograph frame. "It is almost done," he said. "I slipped over in one or two places, but it is not very noticeable, is it?" The Chancellor observed it judicially, and decided that the slipping over was not noticeable at all.
At all events, a few went suddenly back to earth, and, as Cutler turned, wondering what was amiss, he saw Blakely, with almost ashen face, supported by the doctor's sturdy arm to a seat on the edge of the piazza; saw, as he quickly retraced his steps, a sweet and smiling woman's face looking up at him out of the trampled sands, and, even as he stooped to recover the pretty photograph, though it looked far younger, fairer, and more winsome than ever he had seen it, Cutler knew the face at once.
One heavy bud dropped from its stem to the floor, where, while she stood, the edge of her skirt pulled and pushed it. She moved a little aside to peer over at a photograph. Jeff stooped and picked up the flower, which he offered her. "You dropped it," he said, bowing over it. "Did I?" She looked at it with an effect of surprise and doubt. "I thought so, but if you don't, I shall keep it."
I saw he was looking at the dim photograph of memory, and turned from him to Iris. How many drawing-books have you filled, I said, since you began to take lessons? This was the first, she answered, since she was here; and it was not full, but there were many separate sheets of large size she had covered with drawings. I turned over the leaves of the book before us.
I am beginning to think it will be Mary, or my stenographer. I have not seen Mary for more than five years; it is nearly a year since I heard from her. In some ways the photograph of that beautiful, fashionably-gowned girl reminds me of her. Do you suppose that's Mary? But she surely is not in Rome! How do you like this, mother?"
For the photograph showed, not the dark features of the Indian girl, but her own! Worn almost beyond recognition it was, with corners peeled and rolled back from the warped and water-thickened mounting but unmistakably her picture. "He cares! He does care!" she repeated over and over. "Oh, my boy! My boy!"
The incident of the disguised Indians occurred, however, to the earlier explorer, Jacques Cartier. The only copy of the latter work known to me is in the Carter-Brown Library at Providence, R.I., and the passage has been transcribed for me through the kindness of A. E. Winship, Esq., librarian, who has also sent me a photograph of a woodcut representing the lonely woman shooting at a bear.
The photograph gives no idea whatever; you haven't seen her picture. Come, let me show you her picture: one of the most beautiful pictures that ever painted; the most beautiful in the room, and there are many beautiful things in this room. Isn't it extraordinary that a woman so beautiful, so gifted, so enchanting, so intended by life for life should be taken with the religious idea suddenly?
Word Of The Day