3m 888 y this, Giotto, to make you vain, class mask but to recall your responsibilities, and to dispel useless dreams. Believe me, my boy, your true mother, the tender nurse of your infancy, sleeps in the sacred shadow of this dear old church. It is your part to make her name, and the name of your respectable foster father, famous as your own to render your windmill as highly celebrated as Rembrandt s, and to hang late laurels of fame on the grave of your grand old schoolmaster. Ah my child, I know well that the ductile artistic nature takes shape very early. The coloring of childhood stains every painter s canvas who paints from the heart. You can never call any other place home, Giotto, but this idyllic corner of the world It will be seen that the painter s rose colored spectacles were still on his nose. Every thing delighted him. He was never weary of sketching garrulous patriarchs in snowy smocks under rickety porches. He said that in an age of criticism it was quite delightful to hear Daddy Angel say, Ay, ay, to every thing and he waxed eloquent on the luxury of having only one post a day, and that one uncertain. But his highest flights of approbation were given to the home brewed ale. That pure, refreshing beverage, sound and strong as a heart of oak should be, which quenched the thirst with a certain stringency which might hint at sourness to the vulgar palate, had so he said destroyed for ever his contentment with any other malt liquor. He spoke of Bass and Allsopp as palatable 3m 888 tonics and non poisonous medicinal compounds. And when, with a flourish of hyperbole, he told Master Chuter s guests that nothing to eat or drink was to be got in London, 3m 888 they took his word what size n95 mask for 11 year old for it and it was without suspicion of satire that Daddy Angel said, The gen leman do look pretty middlin hearty too con sid rin. It was evident that the painter had no intention of going away till the pot boiler fund was exhausted, and Jan was willing enough to abide, especially as Master Lake had 3m shares caught cold at the schoolmaster s funeral, and was grateful for his foster son s company and care. Jan was busy in many ways. He was Master Swift s heir but the old man s illness had nearly swallowed up his savings, and Jan s legacy consisted of the books, the furniture, the gardening tools, and Rufus, who attached himself to his new master with a wistful affection which 3m 888 seemed to say, You belong to the good old times, and I know you loved him. Jan moved the schoolmaster s few chattels to the windmill, and packed the books to take to London. With them he packed the little old etching that had been bought from the Cheap Jack. It s a very good one, said the painter. It s by an old Dutch artist. You can see a copy in the British Museum. But it was not in the Museum that Ja.ive shilling for 3m 888 un. Master Lake, you be dog ged cute but Gearge bean t quite such a vool as a looks. After a short time the advertisement was withdrawn. CHAPTER VI. GEORGE GOES COURTING. GEORGE AS AN ENEMY. GEORGE AS A FRIEND. ABEL PLAYS SCHOOL MASTER. THE LOVE 3m 888 LETTER. MOERDYK. THE MILLER MOTH. AN ANCIENT DITTY. One day George Sannel asked and obtained leave for a holiday. On the morning in question, he dressed himself in the cleanest of smocks, greased his boots, stuck a bloody warrior, or dark colored wallflower, in his bosom, put a neatly folded, clean cotton handkerchief into his pocket, which, even if he did not use it, was a piece of striking dandyism, and scrubbed his honest face to such a point of cleanliness that Mrs. Lake was almost constrained to remark that she thought he must be going courting. George did not blush, he never blushed, but he looked voolish enough to warrant the suspicion that his errand was a tender one, and he had no other reason to give for his spruce appearance. It was, perhaps, in his confusion that he managed to convey a mistaken notion of the place to which he was going to Mrs. Lake. She was under the impression that he went to the neighboring town, whereas he went to one in an exactly opposite direction, and some miles farther away. He went to the bank, too, which seems an unlikely 3m 888 place for tender tryst but George s proceedings were apt to be less direct than the simplicity of his looks and speech would have led a stranger to suppose. When he reached home, the windmiller and his family were going to bed, for the night was still, and the mill idle. George betook himself at once to where his truckle bed stood in the round house, and proceeded to light his mill candlestick, which was stuck into the wall. From the chink into which it was stuck he then counted seven bricks downwards, and the seventh yielded to a slight effort and came out. It was the door, so to speak, of a hole in the wall of the mill, from which he drew a morocco bound pocket book. After an uneasy glance over his shoulder, to make sure that the long dark shadow which stretched from his own heels, and shifted with the draught in which the candle flared, was not the windmiller creeping up behind him, he took a letter out of the book and held it to the light as if to read it. But he never turned the page, and at last replaced it with a sigh. Then he put the pocket book back into the hole, and pushed in after it his handkerchief, which was tied round something which chinked as he pressed it in. Then he replaced the brick, and went to bed. He said nothing about the bank in the morning nor about the hole in the mill wall and he parried Mrs. Lake s questions with gawky grins and well assumed bashfulness. Abel overheard h.
uffering that furrowed his old face, and they were puttied, painted, and smoothed then, over the smooth background, wrinkles of good tempered laughter and pleasant, carefree mirth were skillfully painted with fine brushes. Lazarus submitted indifferently to everything that was done to him. Soon he was turned into a becomingly stout, venerable old man, into a quiet and kind grandfather of numerous offspring. It seemed that the smile, with which only a while ago he was spinning funny yarns, was still lingering on his lips, and that in the corner of his eye serene tenderness was hiding, the companion of old age. But people did not dare change his nuptial garments, and they could not change his eyes, two dark and frightful glasses through which looked at men, the unknowable Yonder. chapter 6 Lazarus was not moved by the magnificence of the imperial palace. It was as though he saw no difference between the crumbling house, closely pressed by the desert, and the stone palace, solid and fair, and indifferently he passed into it. And the hard marble of the floors under his feet grew similar to the quicksand of the desert, and the multitude of richly dressed and haughty men became like void air under his glance. No one looked into his face, as Lazarus passed by, fearing to fall under the appalling influence 3m 888 of his eyes but when the sound of his heavy footsteps had sufficiently died down, the courtiers raised their heads and with fearful curiosity examined the figure of a stout, tall, slightly bent old man, who was slowly penetrating into the very heart of the imperial palace. Were Death itself passing, it would be faced with no greater fear for until then the dead alone knew Death, and those alive knew Life only and there was no bridge between them. But this extraordinary man, although alive, knew Death, and enigmatical, appalling, was his cursed knowledge. Woe, people thought, he will take the life of our great, deified Augustus, and they sent curses after Lazarus, who meanwhile kept on advancing into the interior of the palace. Already did the emperor know who Lazarus was, and prepared to meet him. But the monarch was a brave man, and felt his own tremendous, unconquerable power, and in his fatal duel with him who had miraculously risen from the dead he wanted not to invoke human help. And so he met Lazarus face to face Lift not thine eyes upon me, Lazarus, he ordered. I heard thy face is like that of Medusa and turns into stone whomsoever thou lookest at. Now, I wish to see thee and to have a talk with thee, before I turn into stone, added he in a tone of kingly jesting, not devoid of fear. Coming close to him, he carefully examined Lazarus face and his strange festal garments. And although he had a keen eye, he was dece.XI. SCARECROWS AND MEN. JAN REFUSES TO MAKE GEARGE. UNCANNY. JAN S OFF. THE MOON AND THE CLOUDS. The picture gave Jan great pleasure, but it proved a stumbling block on the road to learning. To make letters on his slate had been the utmost of his ambition, and as he made them he learned them. But after the Cheap Jack s visit his constant cry was, Jan make pitchers. And when Abel tried to confine his attention to the alphabet, he would, after a most perfunctory repetition of a few letters that he knew, and hap hazard blunders over fresh ones, fling his arms round Abel s neck and say coaxingly, Abel dear, make Janny pitchers on his slate. Abel s pictures, at the best, were of that style of wall decoration dear to street boys. Make a pitcher of a man, Jan would cry. And Abel did so, bit by bit, to Jan s dictation. Thus Make s head. Make un round. Make two eyes. Make a nose. Make a mouth. Make s arms. Make s fingers, etc. And, with some free handling, Abel would strike the five fingers off, one by one, in five screeching strokes of the slate pencil. But his art was conventional, and when Jan said, Make un a miller s thumb, he was puzzled, and could only bend the shortest of the five strokes slightly backwards to represent the trade mark of his forefathers. And when a little later Jan said one day, Tis a galley crow, that is. Now make a pitcher of a MAN, Abel dear Abel found that the scarecrow figure was the limit of his artist powers, and thenceforward it was Jan who made pitchers. He drew from dawn to dusk upon the little slate which he wore tied by a bit of string to the belt of his pinafore. He drew his foster mother, and Abel, and the kitten, and the clock, and the flower pots in the window, and the windmill itself, and every thing he saw or imagined. And he drew till his slate was full on both sides, and then in very primitive fashion he spat and rubbed it all out and began again. And whenever Jan s face was washed, the two faces of his slate were washed too and with this companion he was perfectly happy and constantly employed. Now it was Abel who gave the subjects for the pictures, and Jan who made them, and it was good Abel also who washed the slate, and rubbed the well worn stumps of pencil to new points upon the round house floor. They often went together to a mound at some little distance, where, seated side by side, they made a mill upon the slate, Jan drawing, and Abel dictating the details to be recorded. Put in the window, Jan, he would say and another, and another, and another, and another. Now put the sails. Now put the stage. Now put daddy by the door. On one point Jan was obstinate. He steadily refused to make Gearge upon his slate in any capacity colored surgical masks whatever. Perhaps it was in this habit of constantly.of which he knows so little and concerning which he is so curious. Perhaps the war, or possibly an increase in class consciousness, or unionization of spirits, or whatever, has greatly energized the ghost in our day and given him both ambition and strength to do more things than ever. Maybe pep tablets have been discovered on the other side as well No longer is the ghost content to be seen and not heard, different types of respirator masks to slink around in shadowy corners as apologetically as poor relations. Wraiths now have a rambunctious vitality and 3m 888 self assurance that are astonishing. Even the ghosts of folks dead so long they have forgotten about themselves are yawning, stretching their skeletons, and starting out to do a little haunting. Spooky creatures in such a wide diversity are abroad to day that one is sometimes at a loss to know what to do gin a body meet a body. Ghosts are entering all sorts of activities now, so that mortals had better look alive, else they ll be crowded out of their place in the shade. The dead are too much with us Modern ghosts are less simple and primitive than their ancestors, and are developing complexes of various kinds. They are more democratic than of old, and have more of a diversity of interests, so that mortals have scarcely the ghost of a chance with them. They employ all the agencies and mechanisms known to mortals, and have in addition their own methods of transit and communication. Whereas in the past a ghost had to stalk or glide to his haunts, now he limousines or airplanes, so that naturally he can get in more work than before. He uses the wireless to send his messages, and is expert in all manner of scientific lines. In fact, his infernal efficiency and knowledge of science constitute the worst terror of the current specter. Who can combat a ghost that knows all about a chemical laboratory, that can add electricity to his other shocks, and can employ all mortal and immortal agencies as his own Science itself is supernatural, as we see when we look at it properly. Modern literature, especially the most recent, shows a revival of old types of ghosts, together with the innovations of the new. There are specters that take a real part in the plot complication, and those that merely cast threatening looks at the living, or at least, are content to speak a piece and depart. Some spirits are dumb, while others are highly elocutionary. Ghosts vary in many 3m 888 respects. Some are like the pallid shades of the past, altogether unlike the living and with an unmistakable spectral form or lack of it. They sweep like mist through the air, or flutter like dead leaves in the gale a gale always accompanying them as part of the stock furnishings. On the other hand, some revenants are so 3m 888 successfully made up that one doesn.
3m 888 day that this wistful dignity had won the schoolmaster s heart, had never known a care, wanted a meal, or had any thing whatever demanded of him but to sit comfortably at home and watch with a broken hearted countenance for the schoolmaster s return from the labors which supported them both. The sunshine made Rufus sleepy, 3m 888 but he kept valiantly watchful, propping himself against the garden tools which stood in the corner. Flowers and vegetables for eating were curiously mixed in the little garden that lay about Master Swift s cottage. Not a corner was wasted in it, and a 3m n95 particulate respirator dust mask thick hedge of sweet peas formed a fragrant fence from the outer world. Rufus was nodding, when he heard a footstep. He pulled himself up, but he did not wag his tail, for n95 mask for the step was not the schoolmaster s. It was Jan s. Rufus growled slightly, and Jan stood outside, and called, Master Swift He and Rufus both paused and listened, but the schoolmaster did not appear. Then Rufus came out and smelt Jan exhaustively, and excepting a slight flavor of being acquainted with cats, to whom Rufus objected, he smelt well. Rufus wagged his tail, Jan patted him, and they sat down to wait for the master. The clock in the old square towered church had struck a quarter past four when Master Swift came down the lane, and Rufus rushed out to meet him. Though Rufus told him in so many barks that there was a stranger within, and that, as he smelt respectable, he had allowed him to wait, the schoolmaster was startled by the sight of Jan. Why, it s the little pig minder said he. On which Jan s face crimsoned, and tears welled up in his black eyes. I bean t a pig minder now, Master Swift, said he. And how s that Has Master Salter turned ye off I gi ed him notice said Jan, indignantly. But how much is nokia n95 I shan t mind pigs no more, Master Swift. And why not, Master Skymaker Don t ee laugh, sir, said Jan. Master Salter he laughs. What s pigs for but to be killed says he. But I axed him not to kill the little black un with the white spot on his ear. It be such a nice pig, sir, such a very nice pig And the tears flowed copiously down Jan s cheeks, whilst Rufus looked abjectly depressed. It would follow me anywhere, and come when I called, Jan continued. I told Master Salter it be most as good as a dog, to keep the rest together. But a says tis the fattest, and ull be the first to kill. And then I telled him to find another boy to mind his pigs, for I couldn t 3m 888 look un in the face now, and know twas to be killed next month, not that one with the white spot on his ear. It do be such a very nice pig Rufus licked up the tears as they fell over Jan s smock, and the schoolmaster took Jan in and comforted him. Jan dried his eyes at last, and helped to prepare for tea. The old man made some very.with a rather indefensible curiosity. I never heard un, said George. And this was perhaps decisive against the Dame s statement. And I don t believe un neither. I think it bothered she. I believe tis a genteel word for a man as catches oonts. They call oonts moles in some parts, so p r aps they calls a man as catches moles a molar, as they calls a man as drives a mill a miller. Tis likely too, Gearge, said Abel. Well Molly we knows. And moment, and moping, and moral. What s moral inquired George. Tis what they put at the end of Vables, Gearge. There s Vables at the end of the spelling book, and I ve read un all. There s the Wolf and the Lamb, and I knows now, said George. Tis like the last verse of that song about the Harnet and the Bittle. Go on, Abel. Mortal. That s swearing. Moses. That s in the Bible, Gearge. Motive. I thought I d try un just once more. What s a motive, Dame says I. I ve got un here, says she, quite quiet like. But I seed her feeling under s chair, and I know d twas for the strap, and I ran straight off, spelling book and all, Gearge. So thee ve been playing moocher, eh said George, with an unpleasant twinkle in his eyes. What ll Master Lake say to that Don t ee tell un, Gearge Abel implored and, O Gearge let I tell mother about the word. Maybe she ve heard tell of it. Let I show her the letter, Gearge. She ll read it for ee. She s a scholard, is mother. There was no mistaking now the wrath in n95 particulate respirator dust mask George s face. The fury that do u use the n95 with chicken pox is fed by fear blazes pretty strongly at all times. Look ee, Abel, my boy, said he, pinching Abel s shoulder till he turned red and white with pain. If thee ever speaks of that letter and that word to any mortal soul, I ll tell Master Lake thee plays moocher, and I ll half kill thee myself. Thee shall rue the day ever thee was born he added, almost beside himself with rage and terror. And as, after a few propitiating words, Abel fled from the mill, George ground his hands together and muttered, Motive I 3m 888 wish the old witch had motived every bone in thee body, or let me do t Master George Sannel was indeed a little irritable at this stage of his career. Like the miller, he had had one stroke of good luck, but capricious fortune would not follow up the blow. He had made five pounds pretty easily. But how to turn some other property of which he had become possessed to profit for himself was, after months of waiting, a puzzle still. He was well aware that his own want of education was the great hindrance to his discovering for himself the exact worth of what he had got. And to his suspicious nature the idea of letting any one else into his secret, even to gain help, was quite intolerable. Abel seemed to be no nearer even to the one word that George had showed him, after weeks of sc.