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Venetian Thoroughfare
The little jest fell as soothingly familiar upon the ear of Vittorio's one passenger as the dip of the oar or the bell of San Giorgio Maggiore sounding across the harmonizing water spaces. And yet the Colonel was only half aware that every word, every inflection of the little dialogue had passed between them on just such an afternoon in May five years ago.
Venice - A Pair Of Pollys
FIVE minutes later Uncle Dan and his two Pollys were once more afloat, a beatific company. Their graceful craft dipped and courtesied to the stroke of the oar as it glided swiftly with the out-going tide, past the gilt ball of the custom-house, past the royal gardens and the Piazzetta and the Doge's Palace, past the red tower of San Giorgio, on and on, far out upon the wide lagoons.
Venice - A Reverie
WHEN Vittorio was told to come for them in the evening, he had cast a significant glance at a certain radiant white cloud, billowing in the West, and said : Speriamo; which, in the vocabulary of the gondolier means : Let us hope for the best and prepare for the worst.
Venice - The Signora
They had been spending an hour among the wonderful glooms and gleams of St. Mark's, and now they had mounted to the high gallery that spans the space between pillar and pillar. The Colonel had looked twice at his watch, for he had an appointment with himself, so to speak, and he proposed to leave the girls to the study of the gold mosaics which they seemed inclined to take seriously.
Venice - A Festa
YOU didn't tell us what a beauty Mrs. Daymond was, Uncle Dan, said May, as they sat at dinner that evening.They had a small table to themselves, close by one of the long glass doors opening out into the garden. It was a warm evening, and sweet, vagrant perfumes came straying in at the open door, and in the momentary hush which sometimes falls upon the noisiest table d'hôte, pretty plashing sounds could be heard in the Canal beyond the garden.
Venice - Gathering Poppies
THIS is Vittorio's gondola, is it not, Nanni? asked May, who had an eye for details and had instantly identified the boat. Si, Signorina. They had spent the morning sight-seeing, and now they were, according to Uncle Dan, having their reward, coasting along the outer shore of the Giudecca, in the heavenly afternoon light.
Venice - Pulse Of The Sea
By the end of another week the life in Venice had come to seem the only life in the world,and even May admitted that there was something mythical about wheels and tram-ways and such prosaic devices for getting about on dry land. Both she and Pauline had acquired some little skill with the forward oar, for, as Uncle Dan justly observed, now that theysometimes succeeded in keeping the oar in the row-lock for twenty consecutive strokes, they were really very little hindrance to the progress of the boat .
Venice - By Ways Of Venice
The two young men were coming home from an early sketching-bout, as was evident from a glance at the gondola, which was distinctly in undress. Old Pietro knew better than to carry his best cushions and brasses on such occasions ; nor did he display the long, black broad-cloth, - the strassino - which gives such distinction to a gondola.
Venice - A Benediction
THE thing that had perplexed. Geoffry Daymond was nothing less inexplicable than the persistency with which the face of Pauline Beverly had come to insinuate itself into his thoughts. When in her society, to be sure, he was not aware of regarding her with an exclusive interest. Indeed it was, more particularly, May who amused and occupied him, as often as Kenwick gave her the chance.
Venice - At Torcello
FOR all the questionings and probings which May Beverly applied to the successive phenomena of the world about her, she had passed her twenty years as light of heart and as free of real perplexities as any fifteenth-century maiden in her turret chamber. Prosperous and sheltered as her youth had been, she had, up to this time, apprehended scarcely anything of the real drama of life.
Venice - A Promotion
A Promotion offers a number of diversions besides that of camping under the colonade, or sitting in the chair of Attila, and May had soon found relief from her momentary discomfiture, in the somewhat arduous exercise of climbing to the top of the cathedral tower, and in readjusting her mistaken notions as to the relative position of the various islands in the northern lagoon.
Venice - Illuminations
If Geoffry Daymond had known no more about Nanni than was known to May herself, the little incident which had caused such perturbation in the young girl's mind would not have made any special impression upon him. The scene itself, indeed, might have lingered in his mind as one of those charming surprises that lurk in the enchanted atmosphere of the lagoons.
Venice - A Summer's Day
MAY had been quite correct in her surmise that Kenwick was shamming, though this was merely based on general theories. Not only did he see her as she emerged with Geoffry Daymond from the comparative obscurity of the stone lion's neighborhood, but he had been for some moments furtively watching them both, himself lost to view in the crowd about the bandstand.
Venice - June Roses
Kenwick stood, the next morning, on the deck of the beautiful pleasure-boat for whose splendors he had betrayed so lively an appreciation, he looked back across the widening distance with a sense of regret more poignant than he was at all prepared to deal with.
Venice - A Surrender
MAY BEVERLY was not given to the study of her own countenance. She knew, of course, that it was a creditable production of Nature, that she had good features and pretty coloring and that her fellow-creatures, as a rule, seemed to like her looks.
Venice - The Serenata
FROM the moment when the Colonel made his fatal admission, his cause was lost and he knew it. He was too good a soldier to fight for the sake of fighting, but he was not a little shocked at the alacrity with which he went over to the enemy. Yet the step was not an unprecedented one. It was not for nothing that he had been for years the willing slave of his Pollys, that his whole training as uncle had tended to cultivate in him the grace of obedience.
Venice - Search Lights
They were skirting the low shore of the Lido, fragrant with the breath of new-mown hay, vocal with the chirp of crickets and the dull, rhythmic thud of the waves upon the beach. The sky was overcast and the water was dark, save just ahead, where the gondola light cast a pale reflection, wavering softly from side to side.
Venice - Decus At Praesidium
THE search-lights of that evening's talk had betrayed more to Pauline Beverly than the transitory trouble of her sister's mind. In vain did she try to dwell only upon what May had told her, upon the awakening of imagination and feeling that had been revealed in the clear depths of that singularly limpid nature.
WHEN Ingres painted his vast Apotheosis of Homer, he represented, grouped round the central throne, all the great poets of the ancient and modern worlds, with a single exception-Shakespeare. After some persuasion, he relented so far as to introduce into his picture a part of that offensive personage.
Sir Thomas Browne
The life of Sir Thomas Browne does not afford much scope for the biographer. Everyone knows that Browne was a physician who lived at Norwich in the seventeenth century; and, so far as regards what one must call, for want of a better term, his life, that is a sufficient summary of all there is to know.
Shakespeare's Final Period
THE whole of the modern criticism of Shakespeare has been fundamentally affected by one important fact. The chronological order of the plays, for so long the object of the vaguest speculation, of random guesses, or at best of isolated points, has been now discovered and reduced to a coherent law.
The Lives Of The Poets
No one needs an excuse for re-opening the Lives of the Poets; the book is too delightful. It is not, of course, as delightful as Boswell; but who re-opens Boswell? Boswell is in an-other category; because, as every one knows, when he has once been opened he can never be shut. But, on its different level, the Lives will always hold a firm and comfortable place in our affections.
Madame Du Deffand
WHEN Napoleon was starting for his campaign in Russia, he ordered the proof-sheets of a forthcoming book about which there had been some disagreement among the censors of the press, to be put into his carriage, so that he might decide for himself what suppressions it might be necessary to make.
Voltaire And England
THE visit of Voltaire to England marks a turning-point in the history of civilisation. It was the first step in a long process of interaction big with momentous consequences-between the French and English cultures. For centuries the combined forces of mutual ignorance and political hostility had kept the two nations apart.
Voltaire's Tragedies
Tim historian of Literature is little more than a historian of exploded reputations. What has he to do with Shakespeare, with Dante, with Sophocles? Has he entered into the springs of the sea? Or has he walked in the search of the depth.
Voltaire And Frederick The Great
AT the present time, when it is so difficult to think of anything but of what is and what will be, it may yet be worth while to cast occasionally a glance backward at what was. Such glances may at least prove to have the humble merit of being entertaining; they may even be instructive as well. Certainly it would be a mistake to forget that Frederick the Great once lived in Germany.
The Rousseau Affair
No one who has made the slightest expedition into that curious and fascinating country, Eighteenth-Century France, can have come away from it without at least one impression strong upon him that in no other place and at no other time have people ever squabbled so much.
The Poetry Of Blake
THE new edition of Blake's poetical works, published by the Clarendon Press, will be welcomed by every lover of English poetry. The volume is worthy of the great university under whose auspices it has been produced, and of the great artist whose words it will help to perpetuate. Blake has been, hitherto, singularly unfortunate in his editors.
The Last Elizabethan
THE shrine of Poetry is a secret one; and it is fortunate that this should be the case; for it gives a sense of security. The cult is too mysterious and intimate to figure upon census papers; there are no turnstiles at the temple gates; and so, as all inquiries must be fruitless, the obvious plan is to take for granted a good attendance of worshippers, and to pass on.
Henri Beyle
IN the whole of French literature it would be difficult to point to a figure at once so important, so remarkable, and so little known to English readers as Henri Beyle. Most of us are, no doubt, fairly familiar with his pseudonym of Stendhal; some of us have read Le Rouge et Le Noir and La Chartreuse de Parme.
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