Gustav Klimt dancer painting

Gustav Klimt dancer paintingGustav Klimt Adam and Eve paintingFrederic Remington The Cowboy painting
Please, sir, I don’t quite get that, sir, how can a book be like a bell, sir?”
“If you wish to talk, Ambrose, you can start construing.”
“Please, sir, that’s as far as I got, sir.”
“Has anyone done any more?” (Scott-King still attempted to import into the lower school the adult politeness of the Classical Sixth.) “Very well, then, you can all spend the rest of the hour preparing the next twenty lines.”
Silence, of a sort, reigned. There was a low muttering from the back of the room, a perpetual shuffling and snuffling, but no one spoke directly to Scott-King. He gazed through the leaded panes to the leaden sky. He could hear through the wall behind him the strident tones of Griggs, the civics master, extolling the Tolpuddle martyrs. Scott-King put his hand in his coat-pocket and felt the crisp edges of the Neutralian invitation.
He had not been abroad since 1939. He had not tasted wine for a year, and he was filled, suddenly, with deep for the South. He had not often nor for long