Alexandre Cabanel paintings

Alexandre Cabanel paintings
Anders Zorn paintings
Anne-Francois-Louis Janmot paintings
When he caught my meaning his teeth flashed white as his eyes. "Ol' sweeper?I be dead 'fore now if ol' sweeper could bite!" His voice turned confidential. "Can't nobody eatme up, boy.I done been et."
His answer set him to chuckling; then after a moment he said, "Here's you a riddle: Which mother got the most children, and eats 'em every one when they grown up?"
"Please, sir," I said wretchedly. "I'm not a student, I'm just the Goat-Boy, and I've got to find Dr. Spielman. I've hurt my legs."
I held one aching thigh as I spoke. The black man inspected my bruises, frowning concern. The pain was not nearly so severe as it had been at first, but my sweat raised gooseflesh in the chilly air.
"Hurt his legs," my examiner murmured. "Flunk if he didn't. And not a stitch of clothes on. Who stuck you in the booklift, chile?" He did not seem to be addressing me. I sat up as best I could; with a fierce shrug he put his arm around my shoulders to brace me and looked closely at my chest. He spoke as if reading something from the watch that hung there. "Pass All. . .Pass All . . ."
"Pass All Fail All!" I exclaimed. For all his behavior perplexed