United States or Georgia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
One of her female ancestors must have had an intimacy with one of those traveling tinkers who, have gone about the country from time immemorial, with faces the color of bistre and indigo, crowned by a wisp of light hair.
Eagles. black and brown, shaded with indigo; feathers heightened by brown ochre and white; beak and claws saffron, shaded with bistre; eyes vermilion, heightened with masticot or saffron, shaded with vermilion. Geese. Ceruse shaded with black; legs, black; bill, red. Owls. Ochre mixed with white, in different shades; legs, yellow ochre. Pheasants.
Thoughts of the elmy fields and the bistre furrows of Elstree and the tasselled coppices of Tours crowded Burton's brain; and he wrote: "I hear the sound I used to hear, The laugh of joy, the groan of pain, The sounds of childhood sound again Death must be near." At last, on the 13th February they saw before them a long streak of light.
White; draw it over with vermilion and lake, shaded with fine lake, heightened with red lead and masticot mixed, and then with white; stipple them with white and thin lead. Anemones. A thin wash of gamboge shaded with bistre; or carmine and sap-green blended together. The stripes carmine, shaded with the same; indigo in the darkest parts, or stipple with it. Leaves.
He catches a hurried look at the glass he sees a dreadful spectre with bistre rings around the eyelids, an ashen face, leaden lips, and great, mournful, hollow, desolate eyes.
By the summer of 1832 he had three children, and was expecting a fourth at no very distant time. His eldest son was named after me, "Robert Bistre," for such is my name, which I have often thought of changing. Not that the name is at all a bad one, as among friends and relations, but that, when I am addressed by strangers, "Mr. Bistre" has a jingling sound, suggestive of childish levity.
Only Judy had become a woman, a thin, rather sad-looking woman, with a melancholy that was not the old effect of tragedy for which her monkey-look and the bistre shadows beneath her eyes had been responsible without any deeper cause. The monkey-look was there still, but Judy was almost beautiful in spite, or perhaps more truly because, of it.
Count Ludolf, who has been a fine painter in his day, says he has used mummy pitch, or whatever it is in which mummies are preserved, as a fine brown paint, like bistre, "only bitter to the taste when one sucks one's brush." Mr. Hay, I find, is private secretary to Lord Melville. It is too much to have a Mr. Hales and a Mr. Hay. To MRS. EDGEWORTH. GATCOMBE PARK, Nov. 9, 1821.
Word Of The Day