A Thorny Path (Complete)

Nonfiction, Religion & Spirituality, New Age, History, Fiction & Literature
Cover of the book A Thorny Path (Complete) by Georg Ebers, Library of Alexandria
View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart
Author: Georg Ebers ISBN: 9781613108376
Publisher: Library of Alexandria Publication: March 8, 2015
Imprint: Language: English
Author: Georg Ebers
ISBN: 9781613108376
Publisher: Library of Alexandria
Publication: March 8, 2015
Imprint:
Language: English
The green screen slowly rose, covering the lower portion of the broad studio window where Heron, the gem-cutter, was at work. It was Melissa, the artist's daughter, who had pulled it up, with bended knees and outstretched arms, panting for breath. "That is enough!" cried her father's impatient voice. He glanced up at the flood of light which the blinding sun of Alexandria was pouring into the room, as it did every autumn afternoon; but as soon as the shadow fell on his work-table the old man's busy fingers were at work again, and he heeded his daughter no more. An hour later Melissa again, and without any bidding, pulled up the screen as before, but it was so much too heavy for her that the effort brought the blood into her calm, fair face, as the deep, rough "That is enough" was again heard from the work-table. Then silence reigned once more. Only the artist's low whistling as he worked, or the patter and pipe of the birds in their cages by the window, broke the stillness of the spacious room, till the voice and step of a man were presently heard in the anteroom. Heron laid by his graver and Melissa her gold embroidery, and the eyes of father and daughter met for the first time for some hours. The very birds seemed excited, and a starling, which had sat moping since the screen had shut the sun out, now cried out, "Olympias!" Melissa rose, and after a swift glance round the room she went to the door, come who might. Ay, even if the brother she was expecting should bring a companion, or a patron of art who desired her father's work, the room need not fear a critical eye; and she was so well assured of the faultless neatness of her own person, that she only passed a hand over her brown hair, and with an involuntary movement pulled her simple white robe more tightly through her girdle. Heron's studio was as clean and as simple as his daughter's attire, though it seemed larger than enough for the purpose it served, for only a very small part of it was occupied by the artist, who sat as if in exile behind the work-table on which his belongings were laid out: a set of small instruments in a case, a tray filled with shells and bits of onyx and other agates, a yellow ball of Cyrenian modeling-wax, pumice-stone, bottles, boxes, and bowls.
View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart
The green screen slowly rose, covering the lower portion of the broad studio window where Heron, the gem-cutter, was at work. It was Melissa, the artist's daughter, who had pulled it up, with bended knees and outstretched arms, panting for breath. "That is enough!" cried her father's impatient voice. He glanced up at the flood of light which the blinding sun of Alexandria was pouring into the room, as it did every autumn afternoon; but as soon as the shadow fell on his work-table the old man's busy fingers were at work again, and he heeded his daughter no more. An hour later Melissa again, and without any bidding, pulled up the screen as before, but it was so much too heavy for her that the effort brought the blood into her calm, fair face, as the deep, rough "That is enough" was again heard from the work-table. Then silence reigned once more. Only the artist's low whistling as he worked, or the patter and pipe of the birds in their cages by the window, broke the stillness of the spacious room, till the voice and step of a man were presently heard in the anteroom. Heron laid by his graver and Melissa her gold embroidery, and the eyes of father and daughter met for the first time for some hours. The very birds seemed excited, and a starling, which had sat moping since the screen had shut the sun out, now cried out, "Olympias!" Melissa rose, and after a swift glance round the room she went to the door, come who might. Ay, even if the brother she was expecting should bring a companion, or a patron of art who desired her father's work, the room need not fear a critical eye; and she was so well assured of the faultless neatness of her own person, that she only passed a hand over her brown hair, and with an involuntary movement pulled her simple white robe more tightly through her girdle. Heron's studio was as clean and as simple as his daughter's attire, though it seemed larger than enough for the purpose it served, for only a very small part of it was occupied by the artist, who sat as if in exile behind the work-table on which his belongings were laid out: a set of small instruments in a case, a tray filled with shells and bits of onyx and other agates, a yellow ball of Cyrenian modeling-wax, pumice-stone, bottles, boxes, and bowls.

More books from Library of Alexandria

Cover of the book A Further Record by Georg Ebers
Cover of the book Finnish Legends for English Children by Georg Ebers
Cover of the book Il Libro Nero by Georg Ebers
Cover of the book Novelas Do Minho by Georg Ebers
Cover of the book Our Changing Constitution by Georg Ebers
Cover of the book The Athelings: Complete by Georg Ebers
Cover of the book The Potter's Craft: A Practical Guide for the Studio and Workshop by Georg Ebers
Cover of the book The Broken Swords by Georg Ebers
Cover of the book The Toys of Peace, and Other Papers by Georg Ebers
Cover of the book The Lawton Girl by Georg Ebers
Cover of the book A Calendar of Sonnets by Georg Ebers
Cover of the book Riding for Ladies With Hints on the Stable by Georg Ebers
Cover of the book Relatorio de uma viagem ás terras do Changamira by Georg Ebers
Cover of the book In the Reign of Terror: The Adventures of a Westminster Boy by Georg Ebers
Cover of the book The Major Operations of the Navies in the War of American Independence by Georg Ebers
We use our own "cookies" and third party cookies to improve services and to see statistical information. By using this website, you agree to our Privacy Policy