tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65723616188227002182024-03-13T21:38:19.750+01:00Love for Books!WE'RE TALKIN' BOOKS, ILLUSTRATIONS AND ART!Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.comBlogger1013125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-21088960805416390662016-04-09T11:15:00.000+02:002016-04-09T11:15:37.102+02:00The Story Girl<br />
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<i style="line-height: 22.4px;"><b>The Story Girl</b></i><span style="line-height: 22.4px;"> </span><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">is a 1911 novel by Canadian author</span><span style="line-height: 22.4px;"> </span>L. M. Montgomery<span style="line-height: 22.4px;">.</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 22.4px;"> It narrates the adventures of a group of young cousins and their friends</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 22.4px;"> who live in a rural community on</span><span style="line-height: 22.4px;"> </span>Prince Edward Island<span style="line-height: 22.4px;">, Canada.</span></div>
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The book is narrated by Beverley, who together with his brother Felix,<br />
has come to live with his Aunt Janet and Uncle Alec King on their farm<br />
while their father travels for business.<br />
They spend their leisure time with their cousins Dan, Felicity and Cecily King,<br />
hired boy Peter Craig, neighbour Sara Ray and another cousin, Sara Stanley.<br />
The latter is the Story Girl of the title, and she entertains the group with<br />
fascinating tales including various events in the King family history.<br />
"I do like a road, because you can be always wondering what is at the end of it,"<br />
once said Sara Stanley, also known as the Story Girl.<br />
She is enlightening and brings about a glow to the reader's heart.<br />
The sequel to the book is The Golden Road, written in 1913.</div>
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<i>The Story Girl</i> was one of the books which inspired<br />
the Canadian television series <i>Road to Avonlea</i>.</div>
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I WAKENED shortly after sunrise.<br />
The pale May sunshine was showering through<br />
the spruces, and a chill, inspiring wind was tossing the boughs about.</div>
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"Felix, wake up," I whispered, shaking him.</div>
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"What's the matter?" he murmured reluctantly.</div>
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"It's morning. Let's get up and go down and out.<br />
I can't wait another minute to see the places father has told us of."</div>
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We slipped out of bed and dressed, without arousing Dan,<br />
who was still slumbering soundly, his mouth wide open,<br />
and his bed-clothes kicked off on the floor.<br />
I had hard work to keep Felix from trying to see if he could "shy"<br />
a marble into that tempting open mouth. I told him it would waken Dan,<br />
who would then likely insist on getting up and accompanying us,<br />
and it would be so much nicer to go by ourselves for the first time.</div>
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Everything was very still as we crept downstairs.<br />
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Out in the kitchen we heard some one, presumably Uncle Alec,<br />
lighting the fire; but the heart of house had not yet begun to beat for the day.</div>
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We paused a moment in the hall to look at the big "Grandfather" clock.<br />
It was not going, but it seemed like an old, familiar acquaintance to us,<br />
with the gilt balls on its three peaks; the little dial and pointer<br />
which would indicate the changes of the moon, and the very dent in its wooden door<br />
which father had made when he was a boy, by kicking it in a fit of naughtiness.</div>
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Then we opened the front door and stepped out, rapture swelling in our bosoms.<br />
There was a rare breeze from the south blowing to meet us;<br />
the shadows of the spruces were long and clear-cut;<br />
the exquisite skies of early morning,<br />
blue and wind-winnowed, were over us; away to the west, beyond the brook field,<br />
was a long valley and a hill purple with firs and laced with still leafless<br />
beeches and maples.</div>
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Behind the house was a grove of fir and spruce, a dim,<br />
cool place where the winds were fond of purring and where there was always<br />
a resinous, woodsy odour. On the further side of it was a thick plantation</div>
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of slender silver birches and whispering poplars; and beyond it<br />
was Uncle Roger's house.</div>
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Right before us, girt about with its trim spruce hedge,<br />
was the famous King orchard, the history of which was woven<br />
into our earliest recollections.<br />
We knew all about it, from father's descriptions,<br />
and in fancy we had roamed in it many a time and oft.</div>
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READ MORE HERE<br />
<a href="http://digital.library.upenn.edu/women/montgomery/story/story.html">http://digital.library.upenn.edu/women/montgomery/story/story.html</a></div>
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Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-23041585238765541262014-08-26T11:26:00.001+02:002014-08-26T11:26:06.179+02:00~Jane Austen<p align="center"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-RyvTo9k5ONQ/U_xSlceCC0I/AAAAAAAA00M/yi1qT4lZ-Tg/s1600-h/jane%252520austen2%252520illustratrie%252520C.%252520E.%252520Brock%25252C%2525201898%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="display: inline" title="jane austen2 illustratrie C. E. Brock, 1898" alt="jane austen2 illustratrie C. E. Brock, 1898" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-bvXmsfRQdGM/U_xSmjjEESI/AAAAAAAA00U/cekVUmcsQ2Q/jane%252520austen2%252520illustratrie%252520C.%252520E.%252520Brock%25252C%2525201898_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="302" height="480" /></a> <br /> <br />Jane Austen illustrations <br /> C. E. Brock, 1898 <br /></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-NemrLQYvQsM/U_xSnxqzz8I/AAAAAAAA00c/A16WDLgCoqI/s1600-h/jane%252520austen1%252520illustratrie%252520C.%252520E.%252520Brock%25252C%2525201898%25255B7%25255D.jpg"><img style="display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto" title="jane austen1 illustratrie C. E. Brock, 1898" alt="jane austen1 illustratrie C. E. Brock, 1898" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-wjyALP6aVwM/U_xSo7ynUtI/AAAAAAAA00k/tQJQzstJoPA/jane%252520austen1%252520illustratrie%252520C.%252520E.%252520Brock%25252C%2525201898_thumb%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="302" height="480" /></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-2ZqKaz0Ohw0/U_xSpylqytI/AAAAAAAA00s/cmJFA73O98M/s1600-h/jane%252520austen3%252520illustratrie%252520C.%252520E.%252520Brock%25252C%2525201898%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto" title="jane austen3 illustratrie C. E. Brock, 1898" alt="jane austen3 illustratrie C. E. Brock, 1898" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-ZGjzb-NW-sw/U_xSrI79uNI/AAAAAAAA000/Opl8zXC45X4/jane%252520austen3%252520illustratrie%252520C.%252520E.%252520Brock%25252C%2525201898_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="310" height="480" /></a></p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-46967289746748478762014-05-29T17:14:00.001+02:002014-05-29T17:14:44.485+02:00~The Velveteen Rabbit<p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-QcvAWID-YBc/U4dO3JC2itI/AAAAAAAA0yM/7AYMU1oVnSA/s1600-h/Margery%252520Williams%25255B5%25255D.png"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="Margery Williams" border="0" alt="Margery Williams" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-3Pk8T4DoaBI/U4dO4kJAHTI/AAAAAAAA0yU/uIXCypxbWds/Margery%252520Williams_thumb%25255B3%25255D.png?imgmax=800" width="402" height="278" /></a> </p> <p align="center">“Weeks passed, and the little Rabbit grew very old and shabby, but the Boy loved him just as much. <br />He loved him so hard that he loved all his whiskers off, <br />and the pink lining to his ears turned grey, and his brown <br />spots faded. He even began to lose his shape, <br />and he scarcely looked like a rabbit any more, <br />except to the Boy. To him he was always beautiful, <br />and that was all that the little Rabbit cared about. <br />He didn't mind how he looked to other people, <br />because the nursery magic had made him Real, <br />and when you are Real shabbiness doesn't matter.” <br /> <br />The Velveteen Rabbit <br />is a children's novel written by Margery Williams <br />and illustrated byWilliam Nicholson. <br /> <br />It chronicles the story of a stuffed rabbit and his quest <br />to become real through the love of his owner. <br />The book was first published in 1922 <br />and has been republished many times since.</p> <p align="center"><a href="http://archive.org/stream/thevelveteenrabb11757gut/11757.txt" target="_blank">Read the whole story HERE!!</a></p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-78197687541851022152014-05-29T17:00:00.001+02:002014-05-29T17:00:29.306+02:00~Quote<p align="center"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="Katharina Hepburn" border="0" alt="Katharina Hepburn" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-OAm2lCTrE9A/U4dLib7PQ6I/AAAAAAAA0xw/fRAG6gnKsho/Katharina%252520Hepburn_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="560" /> <br />“Life can be wildly tragic at times, and I've had my share. <br />But whatever happens to you, you have to keep <br />a slightly comic attitude. <br />In the final analysis, you have got <br />not to forget to laugh.” <br />by Katharine Hepburn</p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-50598341537006879932014-02-07T23:06:00.001+01:002014-02-07T23:06:44.309+01:00~Eileen Soper<p align="center"> <a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-5_T_cl8abVI/UvVY4kkOS5I/AAAAAAAA0q8/XzK4vEqpABw/s1600-h/eileen%252520soper%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="eileen soper" border="0" alt="eileen soper" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-pyXiunPuhUA/UvVY5gGZWdI/AAAAAAAA0rE/iyuIfumj8HQ/eileen%252520soper_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="505" /></a> <br /> <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eileen_Soper" target="_blank">Eileen Soper</a> was born Enfield, Middlesex, 26 March 1905, <br />the daughter of an illustrator, George Soper. <br />Along with her elder sister Eva, <br />she attended Olive Downing’s School in Knebworth and Hitchin Girls’ School. At the time of her father’s death, in 1942, <br />she was worked primarily as an illustrator, <br />notably with the children's author, Enid Blyton. <br /> Eileen illustrated the entire series of Famous Five adventures <br />and a vast range of other books. <br />In addition she authored and illustrated 23 books of her <br />own that displayed her growing talent for wildlife illustration. <br />She was a founder member of the Society of Wildlife <br />Artists in 1964 and was elected to the membership of the <br /> Royal Society of Miniature Painters in 1972. </p> <p align="center"><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-qcrG3B6yhEc/UvVY6a1eGYI/AAAAAAAA0rM/ZVIWgL12eso/s1600-h/eileen%252520soper2%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="eileen soper" border="0" alt="eileen soper" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-BqeQGfcVXGA/UvVY6-uIMGI/AAAAAAAA0rU/ujxhTgWyGLg/eileen%252520soper2_thumb%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="489" /></a> <br />Then rather like a character from Marilynne Robinson's <i>Housekeeping</i> she let much of the rare flora planted by <br />her father return to a state of wildness and even allowed <br />the animals of the garden into the house. <br />She shared this singular location with only one other human, <br />her somewhat shadowy sister Eva. <br />Eileen died in 1990, <br /> Eva outlived her by only six months. The estate and copyright of George and Eileen Soper are now in the care of the <br />Chris Beetles Gallery.<a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-5BBJvLmjN9g/UvVY7oOansI/AAAAAAAA0rc/r6YwSEKcvcc/s1600-h/eileen%252520soper1%25255B4%25255D.jpg"></a><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="eileen soper" border="0" alt="eileen soper" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-BCsH6c1ic6U/UvVY8j7RRfI/AAAAAAAA0rk/IUT4BjienyQ/eileen%252520soper1_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="621" /></p> <p></p> <p></p> <p></p> <p></p> <p align="center"><a href="http://www.chrisbeetles.com/artists/soper-eileen-rms-swla-1905-1990.html" target="_blank">www.chrisbeetles.com</a></p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-55765014830426094032013-12-08T17:59:00.001+01:002013-12-08T18:00:55.370+01:00~Poem for Christmas!<p align="center">Clement Clarke Moore (1779 - 1863) <br />wrote the poem Twas the night before Christmas <br />also called “A Visit from St. Nicholas" in 1822. <br />It is now the tradition in many American families <br />to read the poem every Christmas Eve.</p> <p align="center"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-_lVWAGOWJ_g/UqSlgGEL_-I/AAAAAAAA0qM/BKw7-QONjDo/s1600-h/omslag%252520kerst1%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="kerst" border="0" alt="kerst" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-YTUoexROkqc/UqSlg0V6JeI/AAAAAAAA0qQ/UN_l3K5YXoo/omslag%252520kerst1_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="422" height="265" /></a></p> <p align="center">“Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house <br />Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; <br />The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, <br />In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there; <br /> <br />The children were nestled all snug in their beds; <br />While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads; <br />And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, <br />Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap, <br />When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, <br />I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. <br /> <br />Away to the window I flew like a flash, <br />Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. <br />The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, <br />Gave a lustre of midday to objects below, <br />When what to my wondering eyes did appear, <br />But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer, <br />With a little old driver so lively and quick, <br />I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick. <br /> <br />More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, <br />And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name: <br />"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen! <br />On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blixen! <br />To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! <br />Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!" <br /> <br />As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, <br />When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky; <br />So up to the housetop the coursers they flew <br />With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too— <br />And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof <br />The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. <br />As I drew in my head, and was turning around, <br />Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound. <br /> <br />He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, <br />And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; <br />A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, <br />And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack. <br />His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry! <br />His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! <br />His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, <br />And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow; <br />The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, <br />And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath; <br /> <br />He had a broad face and a little round belly <br />That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly. <br />He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, <br />And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; <br />A wink of his eye and a twist of his head <br />Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread; <br />He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, <br />And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk, <br />And laying his finger aside of his nose, <br />And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose; <br /> <br />He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, <br />And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. <br />But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight— <br />“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!” <br />Poem by Clement Clarke Moore <br /><a href="http://www.carols.org.uk" target="_blank">http://www.carols.org.uk</a> <br />Image~by svetoknz</p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-1408949245179277662013-10-31T09:11:00.001+01:002013-10-31T09:11:13.764+01:00~Happy Halloween!!!<p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-RnyAgCtfEEM/UnIQnFcEpgI/AAAAAAAA0eE/ikQPviL1yBw/s1600-h/Dennisons%252520Bogie%252520Book%252520c.1925%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="Dennisons Bogie Book c.1925" border="0" alt="Dennisons Bogie Book c.1925" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-Z9X13QbZZLY/UnIQoBqusjI/AAAAAAAA0eI/feCQTk45Jb4/Dennisons%252520Bogie%252520Book%252520c.1925_thumb%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="606" /></a></p> <p>Dennison’s Bogie Book c.1925 </p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-40606370323811778092013-05-15T23:15:00.001+02:002013-05-15T23:15:04.042+02:00<p align="center"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-ti_nUMuv9ME/UZP60UkPSEI/AAAAAAAA0GY/kk7HOVHQqIg/s1600-h/Hilda%252520Hechle%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="Hilda Hechle" border="0" alt="Hilda Hechle" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-nsk2piSfuzA/UZP61juhjGI/AAAAAAAA0Gg/xT24fg1S8e4/Hilda%252520Hechle_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="502" /></a> </p> <p align="center">“Come buy from us with a golden curl” <br /> by Hilda Hechle (1914), <br />from Christina Rossetti’s “Goblin Market”</p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-83346940933540710512013-05-07T12:48:00.001+02:002013-05-07T12:48:48.716+02:00~Vintage Book<p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-d6t1gVgBYxo/UYjcBlqxLCI/AAAAAAAA0Bc/kcjZvq2rUbs/s1600-h/S.%252520Louise%252520Patteson%25252C%252520How%252520to%252520have%252520bird%252520neighbors%252520%2525281917%252529%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="S. Louise Patteson" border="0" alt="S. Louise Patteson" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Xzeei0KbLVQ/UYjcDomleEI/AAAAAAAA0Bk/daDxuZpsAy8/S.%252520Louise%252520Patteson%25252C%252520How%252520to%252520have%252520bird%252520neighbors%252520%2525281917%252529_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="557" /></a> </p> <p align="center"> <i>How to have bird neighbors</i> <br />by S. Louise Patteson, 1917 </p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-41062295283726301812013-04-27T15:18:00.001+02:002013-04-27T15:18:29.580+02:00~Palmer Cox<p align="center"><b><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-ZN4R0NW8-Qg/UXvQAhF4pXI/AAAAAAAA0AM/mkKH3uynbHM/s1600-h/cox_p004%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="cox" border="0" alt="cox" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-2CHDeMCVSjw/UXvQCXpMndI/AAAAAAAA0AU/1m8SQUBKzsw/cox_p004_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="518" /></a><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="Palmer-Cox" border="0" alt="Palmer-Cox" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-ucV1CraI6Jk/UXvQDi7TCbI/AAAAAAAA0Ac/nH9XHtK-Zuc/Palmer-Cox_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="247" /> <br />Palmer Cox</b> (April 28, 1840 – July 24, 1924) <br />was a Canadian illustrator and author, <br />best known <br />for the fictional creatures known as <br /> the "Brownies  his series of humorous verse <br />books and comic strips about the mischievous <br />but kindhearted fairy-like sprites. <br />The cartoons were published in several books, <br />such as <i>The Brownies, Their Book</i> (1887). <br /> <br /><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-4EyWWPYu4m8/UXvQFYl-6rI/AAAAAAAA0Ak/Nrj2jrbBkAo/s1600-h/Palmer%252520Cox1%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="Palmer Cox" border="0" alt="Palmer Cox" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-i17pxpN1YsU/UXvQHO7k9PI/AAAAAAAA0As/Tv1BZl2l6bg/Palmer%252520Cox1_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="383" /></a>   <br />Palmer Cox is famous the world over for his <br />delightful children's books . <br />" His inspiration for the Brownies came from <br /> the Scottish folklore that still survived in <br />and around Granby, Quebec, where he was born in 1840. <br />Cox learned these folktales from his mother which <br />featured the Brownies, or little members of the fairie <br /> or goblin world: "imaginary sprites who delight in harmless pranks and helpful deeds. They work and sport <br />while weary households sleep, and never allow <br />themselves to be seen by mortal eyes. <br /> <br /><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="Palmer Cox" border="0" alt="Palmer Cox" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-oxdttbhZH7U/UXvQIdoqcDI/AAAAAAAA0A0/jHSyfmT8QmE/Palmer%252520Cox_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="602" /> <br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palmer_Cox" target="_blank">~More to read~ <br /> <br /></a></p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-46675030630736776132013-04-08T23:17:00.001+02:002013-04-08T23:17:33.612+02:00<p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-G5Sap1NCdpg/UWMz5_mNtcI/AAAAAAAAz_0/HDgqEu3tamM/s1600-h/604118_460415684030831_1753075824_n%252520%2525281%252529%25255B4%25255D.png"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="" border="0" alt="" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-U4ZVue8EY5M/UWMz7H_r0gI/AAAAAAAAz_8/FkdECMEXFYU/604118_460415684030831_1753075824_n%252520%2525281%252529_thumb%25255B2%25255D.png?imgmax=800" width="402" height="268" /></a></p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-50084871204115782612013-04-03T10:44:00.001+02:002013-04-03T10:44:05.641+02:00<p align="center"><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-6bGQg9z1NM0/UVvr0Rxmi5I/AAAAAAAAz_M/sh7ONeYDTSc/s1600-h/398082_258719200936093_1398809931_n4.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="" border="0" alt="" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-sV4IR2F9180/UVvr1CKku9I/AAAAAAAAz_U/4uDQP3TZhto/398082_258719200936093_1398809931_n_.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="355" /></a> <br />I am only one, but still I am one. <br />I cannot do everything, <br />but still I can do SOMETHING <br />and just because I cannot do everything... <br />I will not refuse to do the something <br />that I can do!. <br />~Helen Keller~ <br /> <br />art unknown to me </p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-7718538760299000072013-03-29T23:33:00.001+01:002013-03-29T23:33:34.843+01:00~Vintage Postcards<p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-HPxyTrSMLz4/UVYWiV3u5BI/AAAAAAAAz6U/vIch-xTFg4A/s1600-h/Easter-Bunny-Vintage-Image-GraphicsFairy3%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="" border="0" alt="" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-3mQYS77JYGc/UVYWjBeaMYI/AAAAAAAAz6c/VPH-AiKO_kw/Easter-Bunny-Vintage-Image-GraphicsFairy3_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="638" /></a> <a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-hF7nEB-NE6s/UVYWj4D3PZI/AAAAAAAAz6k/Xw65tvxPFSE/s1600-h/Easter1%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="" border="0" alt="" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-aj1E9CeVSP8/UVYWkVoWgYI/AAAAAAAAz6s/a56SRJDbhEE/Easter1_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="580" /></a> <a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-dVqtD-wYPoA/UVYWlUaFCwI/AAAAAAAAz60/C2Ba6ZZdxVY/s1600-h/easter14%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="" border="0" alt="" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-odbegOg-2MA/UVYWmGV6KoI/AAAAAAAAz68/L6hYE-LFPTg/easter14_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="621" /></a> <a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-kXpkdOEYTwQ/UVYWmnc_z8I/AAAAAAAAz7E/AwadqKCQ3fU/s1600-h/easter15%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="" border="0" alt="" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-N3MQDF6JkR0/UVYWnq5hoPI/AAAAAAAAz7M/No9FlIdKaoo/easter15_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="591" /></a> <a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-SrI4waWyKFU/UVYWoqfDLlI/AAAAAAAAz7U/ZtdgraKU7po/s1600-h/easter20%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="easter20" border="0" alt="easter20" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-3AN3YjVrCZo/UVYWpNIJ6uI/AAAAAAAAz7c/pTGja8xfuEE/easter20_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="260" /></a> <a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-In5VgHU8hco/UVYWp26A5xI/AAAAAAAAz7k/SnVSK_YJrj8/s1600-h/easter21%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="" border="0" alt="" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-EwybEQg4ZSI/UVYWqhzVu4I/AAAAAAAAz7s/Cr3xvpPbTB4/easter21_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="617" /></a> <a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-a3KJxiSIfto/UVYWrMaRv0I/AAAAAAAAz70/Vt_juqtQoEo/s1600-h/easter22%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="" border="0" alt="" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-4oKmPmXEVQ0/UVYWsLBEt9I/AAAAAAAAz78/4H0WKZn-v68/easter22_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="625" /></a> <a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-gMfgLHeCQag/UVYWstlo17I/AAAAAAAAz8E/VvmgQJ49VZ0/s1600-h/easter%2525202%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="" border="0" alt="" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-wPz332S9o9Q/UVYWtsWJWWI/AAAAAAAAz8M/TVsVKeLPxvw/easter%2525202_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="610" /></a> <a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-gCaaXHbKx40/UVYWudfAPoI/AAAAAAAAz8U/gSHp9IzhGbI/s1600-h/easter%25252013%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="" border="0" alt="" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-hzsSlXMUEKw/UVYWve23OyI/AAAAAAAAz8c/a-xEbZeKNBM/easter%25252013_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="617" /></a></p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-43168863828747431052013-03-15T11:20:00.001+01:002013-03-15T11:20:43.219+01:00<p align="center"><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-r9V52bfAGe4/UUL19uSkcoI/AAAAAAAAz4E/vGkZUWkMWE8/s1600-h/314434_451706938232198_114325672_n%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="" border="0" alt="" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-snTlLXio5KM/UUL1-nJxViI/AAAAAAAAz4M/FDGw3wEuM5o/314434_451706938232198_114325672_n_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="402" /></a> "Each leaf, <br />each blade of grass <br />vies for attention. <br />Even weeds <br />carry tiny blossoms <br />to astonish us." <br />- Marianne Poloskey</p> <p>I found this on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Old-Moss-Womans-Secret-Garden/145229122213316?ref=stream" target="_blank">Facebook <br /></a>but no name of artist <br />but I had to share, this is soooo wonderful and amazing <br />don’t you think?</p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-27528878919372827132013-02-12T23:23:00.001+01:002013-02-12T23:24:30.695+01:00<p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-U6gSGpYNXdw/URrAveGp_qI/AAAAAAAAz2I/SieqG25sMIY/s1600-h/Oraciones%252520en%252520el%252520sauce%252520Prayers%252520on%252520a%252520weeping%252520willow%252520by%252520Diego%252520Penuela%252520on%252520Flickr%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="Oraciones en el sauce" border="0" alt="Oraciones en el sauce" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-UXlTy-_Xz-g/URrAx9bUtPI/AAAAAAAAz2Q/MI_J4WQrKLA/Oraciones%252520en%252520el%252520sauce%252520Prayers%252520on%252520a%252520weeping%252520willow%252520by%252520Diego%252520Penuela%252520on%252520Flickr_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="584" /></a> </p> <p align="center"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/diegopzb/5719589225/">Oraciones en el sauce / Prayers on a weeping willow</a> <br />by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/diegopzb/">Diego Peñuela</a> on Flickr <br /> <br /></p> <p align="center">This illustration was part of "A song for Japan", <br /> a beautiful project by PechaKucha Night Bogota, <br />done for the victims of Japan earthquake, 2011</p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-56012157751987283942013-02-07T12:55:00.001+01:002013-02-07T12:55:10.178+01:00<p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-ru04fLx_M8M/UROWGmiazAI/AAAAAAAAz1c/F6AKzrEYO3I/s1600-h/276478864593572485_c3DkY1Or_f%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="" border="0" alt="" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-c2e8vG6AVDM/UROWHc3ivGI/AAAAAAAAz1k/hem6lWxTtCo/276478864593572485_c3DkY1Or_f_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="335" /></a></p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-39467094852134804232013-01-26T23:11:00.001+01:002013-01-26T23:11:20.357+01:00<p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-0u3SaYyii5k/UQRUgfxJD0I/AAAAAAAAzu8/j11E8Za3djQ/s1600-h/La%252520Toilette%25252C%252520Henri%252520Gervex.French%252520Academic%252520Painter%2525201852%252520-%2525201929%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="Henri Gervex" border="0" alt="Henri Gervex" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-eAlzfwsY4eg/UQRUhpTCzpI/AAAAAAAAzvE/WYbJbx7ohGo/La%252520Toilette%25252C%252520Henri%252520Gervex.French%252520Academic%252520Painter%2525201852%252520-%2525201929_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="584" /></a> </p> <p align="center"><em>La Toilette</em> <br />by Henri Gervex. <br />French Academic Painter (1852 - 1929) <br /></p> <p align="center"><font size="6">HAVE A  LOVELY SUNDAY!</font></p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-14674438123717844632013-01-17T18:43:00.001+01:002013-01-17T18:43:31.270+01:00<p align="center">The Story teller will tell you the story <br />about the <br /><font size="6">SNOW QUEEN <br /></font> <br /><a href="http://loverforbooks1.blogspot.nl/2009/12/snow-queen.html" target="_blank">~OVERHERE~</a></p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-90261949567169892572013-01-17T12:50:00.001+01:002013-01-17T12:50:33.777+01:00<p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-5I5HKvIUlYQ/UPflgiRf1rI/AAAAAAAAzts/eWfrmN3IAdE/s1600-h/1911EdmundDulac4.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="1911 Edmund Dulac" border="0" alt="1911 Edmund Dulac" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-lhgMD7DWkyE/UPflh2WeukI/AAAAAAAAzt0/p4K8KogZWpc/1911EdmundDulac_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="499" /></a></p> <p align="center">1911 Edmund Dulac from <br />Stories from Hans Andersen <br /><em>The Snow Queen  <br /> <br />“… </em>and in the centre of this lake sat the Snow Queen, <br />when she was at home.”</p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-15619055276193049322013-01-13T19:59:00.001+01:002013-01-13T19:59:17.919+01:00<p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-LzJWsmQWxf0/UPMD_pQRh7I/AAAAAAAAztE/GHMSDZwIGP0/s1600-h/thesecretgardenbyingamoore4.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="the secret garden by inga moore" border="0" alt="the secret garden by inga moore" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-2ZdzRmBIZ8w/UPMEBAEulmI/AAAAAAAAztM/Len5lYdhG8I/thesecretgardenbyingamoore_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="360" /></a> </p> <p align="center">One of my favorite books! <br />The Secret Garden <br />Illustration by Inga Moore</p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-26803489581197449692013-01-11T22:32:00.001+01:002013-01-11T22:32:02.836+01:00~Have a lovely weekend!<p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-P0Uyx0sGNgY/UPCEy6mD6DI/AAAAAAAAzsc/1Gmx27TITB0/s1600-h/HerbertGustaveSchmalz4.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="Herbert Gustave Schmalz" border="0" alt="Herbert Gustave Schmalz" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-vygSfHoTotU/UPCE0KApDUI/AAAAAAAAzsk/JUrvbHJfIvU/HerbertGustaveSchmalz_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="724" /></a> </p> <h5 align="center"><em>Queen Of May <br /></em>by Herbert Gustave Schmalz</h5> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-7852693254617729972013-01-09T11:46:00.001+01:002013-01-09T11:46:19.270+01:00<p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-XQjYV_uSVig/UO1Kci6Fm_I/AAAAAAAAzrU/83p_bti9pZ0/s1600-h/JacobHendrickMaris4.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="Jacob Hendrick Maris" border="0" alt="Jacob Hendrick Maris" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-NPeX5Mru0nU/UO1KeC2a-ZI/AAAAAAAAzrY/j0S7qM6MqUU/JacobHendrickMaris_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="646" /></a> </p> <p align="center">by Jacob Hendrick Maris</p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-26801673341646464552013-01-08T13:01:00.001+01:002013-01-08T13:01:32.592+01:00~Vintage book<p align="center"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="else wenz" border="0" alt="else wenz" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-1nzoQDq6L0I/UOwKgdv6hHI/AAAAAAAAzqY/geHMcQPxrg0/else%252520wenz_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="535" /> <br />Magical illustrations by <a href="http://translate.google.ca/translate?hl=en&sl=de&u=http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Else_Wenz-Vi%25C3%25ABtor&prev=/search%3Fq%3Delse%2Bwenz-Vietor%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dsafari%26sa%3DX%26rls%3Den%26biw%3D1894%26bih%3D823%26prmd%3Dimvns&sa=X&ei=Lt7oT-riEoLs2gXj_eC8DQ&ved=0CGoQ7gEwBQ" target="_blank">Else Wenz-Viëtor</a>, <br /> 1882-1973 <br />one of Germany's most well known <br />and prolific children's illustrators... <br />  <a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-f668OemrAPw/UOwKhuNZRuI/AAAAAAAAzqg/PWhTnMRs1Z8/s1600-h/else%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="else" border="0" alt="else" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-BmfIpfqbE0w/UOwKjEIno5I/AAAAAAAAzqo/aU7l90rV2V0/else_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="499" /></a></p> <p align="center">This wonderful book is my own dutch copy <br />I bought on flea market. <br /> <a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-c_eP9f0RLxc/UOwKkq0HTCI/AAAAAAAAzqw/RwKr8aJJMk4/s1600-h/else%252520wenz%252520v%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="else wenz v" border="0" alt="else wenz v" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-0tHq3Y3ghKI/UOwKmWi7AbI/AAAAAAAAzq0/phlp6OlmhT8/else%252520wenz%252520v_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="547" /></a></p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-74376625703701511272013-01-08T12:48:00.001+01:002013-01-08T12:48:41.238+01:00<p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-a1uahv-1qxY/UOwHjlSiRsI/AAAAAAAAzp0/Vxvy4apfHqk/s1600-h/YoungLadySayingtheRosaryVincentVidal%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="Vincent Vidal" border="0" alt="Vincent Vidal" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-pb17fQjp7Ho/UOwHlTBZYwI/AAAAAAAAzp8/1yvkY2b2QG8/YoungLadySayingtheRosaryVincentVidal.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="507" /></a> </p> <p align="center"><em>Young Lady Saying the Rosary</em>, <br />by Vincent Vidal. <br />French (1811 - 1887)</p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6572361618822700218.post-76596155273869981692013-01-07T11:43:00.001+01:002013-01-07T11:44:33.248+01:00<p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-OhFoGpVfNaU/UOqmyPGBW2I/AAAAAAAAzpQ/jrAso23Trzk/s1600-h/JohnWilliamWaterhouseathiseasel4.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="John William Waterhouse" border="0" alt="John William Waterhouse" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-2VsF2ShU44U/UOqmzOkv5yI/AAAAAAAAzpY/8ZWL4nGInpY/JohnWilliamWaterhouseathiseasel_thum.jpg?imgmax=800" width="402" height="563" /></a> </p> <p align="center">John William Waterhouse at his easel <br /><a href="http://loverforbooks.blogspot.nl/2009/10/waterhouse.html" target="_blank">~LINK~</a></p> Annahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16011156242931847572noreply@blogger.com0