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A carpenter in Ottawa made me a little dresser, a little table, and little chairs of plain deal; I bought some cooking utensils, some enamelled-iron tea-things and plates, and found in Ottawa some crude oleographs printed on oil-cloth and impervious to damp.

The pictures were a strange medley autotypes of some artistic value hanging side by side with hideous oleographs framed in ponderous gilding. Miss. then violently rang the bell. When the summons had been twice French looked about her with an expression of strong disgust, repeated, there appeared a young woman whose features told of long and placid slumbers. 'Well? what does this mean?

My wife is a vigorous woman, part of whose life has been spent in domestic service, and part in a suburban dressmaker's establishment. She keeps the house very clean, pins up the oleographs presented to us at Christmas time by the grocer and the oil-man, and thinks I look genteel in a silk hat when we walk out to hear the band in the public gardens on Thursday evenings." "I can see her!" Mr.

Maggie turned aside, smiled, and bit her lip; she did not speak, however, for she knew her father did not care to be interrupted in his musings. "A hateful place glass porticoes, and oleographs on the walls." Here Mr. Brookes stopped in his walk to admire one of his favourite Friths. "Those ridiculous haberdashers, with a bas-relief of the founder of their house over the doorway.

"I will cause them all to be returned," Fritzing assured her. "What, have those people sent wrong things?" asked Tussie anxiously, who felt that the entire responsibility of this ménage was on his shoulders. "Oh, only some cheap prints," said Priscilla hastily. "I think they're called oleographs or something." "What impertinence," said Tussie hotly.

The walls of that quaint, low-roofed apartment were gay with oleographs, several being scenes from Faust, and one, which Anna had had given to her nearly forty years ago, showed the immortal Charlotte, still cutting bread and butter. On the dressing-table, one at each end, were a pair of white china busts of Bismarck and von Moltke. Anna had brought these back from Berlin three years before.

"Someone waiting for you, miss, in the drawing-room." Joan went down. It would be the old fellow, the warm-hearted old man himself come to fetch her! She entered the big ugly room, with its dingy wall-paper and threadbare carpet, its oleographs in tarnished frames, its ancient centre ottoman, its elderly piano and unsafe, uncertain chairs.

It was a small, square, white building, with green doors and shutters, and a rustic trellis-work porch, standing back some fifty yards from the river's bank. Inside, the main room was roughly fitted up as a study deal table, unpainted shelves with books, and a few cheap oleographs upon the wall. A kettle sang upon a spirit-stove, and there were tea things upon a tray on the table.

The suite of furniture which was the joy of his wife's heart had been, it is true, exceedingly cheap, but the stamped magenta velvet was as crude in its coloring as his own discarded tie. He looked at the fringed cloth upon the table, the framed oleographs upon the wall, and he was absolutely compelled to close his eyes. There was not a single thing anywhere which was not discordant. Mrs.

They only cumber the earth. What is the good of them?" And the thought of Finns and Greeks filled him with a kind of nausea. He tried to compare them with the French and the Italians, but the idea of those races somehow roused in him the notion of organ-grinders, naked women, and the foreign oleographs which hung over the chest of drawers in his aunt's house.