Jack Vettriano Right Time, Right Place

Jack Vettriano Right Time, Right PlaceJack Vettriano Queen of the WaltzerJack Vettriano Private Dancer
loss throughout the galaxy and eventually came up with a quaint little theory which quite caught the public imagination at the time. Somewhere in the cosmos, he said, along with all the planets inhabited by humanoids, reptiloids, fishoids, walking treeoids and superintelligent shades of the colour blue, there was also a planet entirely given over to biro life forms. And it was to this planet that unattended biros would make their way, slipping away quietly through wormholes in planet they discovered only a small asteroid inhabited by a solitary old man who claimed repeatedly that nothing was true, though he was later discovered to be lying. There did, however, remain the question of both the mysterious 60,000 Altairan dollars paid yearly into his Brantisvogan bank account, and of course Zaphod Beeblebrox's highly profitable second-hand biro space to a world where they knew they could enjoy a uniquely biroid lifestyle, responding to highly biro-oriented stimuli, and generally leading the biro equivalent of the as theories go this was all very fine and pleasant until Veet Voojagig suddenly claimed to have found this planet, and to have worked there for a while driving a limousine for a family of cheap green retractables, whereupon he was taken away, locked up, wrote a book, and was finally sent into tax exile, which is the usual fate reserved for those who are determined to make a fool of themselves in public. When one day an expedition was sent to the spatial coordinates that Voojagig had claimed for this

Yue Minjun Head Portrait-4

Yue Minjun Head Portrait-4Yue Minjun Head Portrait-3Yue Minjun Head Portrait-2Yue Minjun Head Portrait-1
debasement mostly because they didn't get invited to those sort of parties. Another thing they couldn't stand was the perpetual failure they encountered in trying to construct a machine which could generate the infinite improbability field needed to flip a spaceship across the mind-paralysing distances between the furthest stars, and in the end they grumpily announced that such a machine was virtually impossible. Then, one day, a student who had been left to make one is to work out exactly how improbable it is, feed that figure into the finite improbability generator, give it a fresh cup of really hot tea ... and turn it on! He did this, and was rather startled to discover that he had managed to create the long sought after golden Infinite Improbability generator out of thin air. It startled him even more when just after he was awarded the Galactic Institute's Prize for Extreme Cleverness he got lynched by a rampaging mob of respectable physicists who had finally realized that the one thing they really couldn't stand was a smartass.to sweep up the lab after a particularly unsuccessful party found himself reasoning this way: If, he thought to himself, such a machine is a virtual impossibility, then it must logically be a finite improbability. So all I have to do in order

Chasseriau Young Teleb Seated

Chasseriau Young Teleb SeatedChasseriau Orientalist InteriorTitian Venus in front of the mirrorLotto Portrait of a Man in Black Silk Cloak
The conception rate for teenagers peaks in December and January as young people feel under pressure to have sex, new figures indicate.
In the six years between 2000 and 2005 a total of 21,000 teenage girls became pregnant in the months of December and January. The rise over the festive period contrasts sharply with February, where the number of conceptions falls to 18,000.

The figures come a week after the Office for National Statistics disclosed that the number of teenage pregnancies rose by 2.7 per cent in the last year, up from 40.9 girls in every 1,000 to 42.Part of the reason for the rise in young people falling pregnant at this time was that they felt under more pressure to have sex over Christmas and New Year, according to a study commissioned by the Department for Children, Schools and Families.

Chase Pulling for Shore

Chase Pulling for ShoreStewart Elegante Au SofaChase The ParkStewart Picnic Under The Trees
very far, so such signals are too minute to be noticed. Ford Prefect was at this moment under great stress, and he was born 600 light years away in the near vicinity of Betelgeuse. The barman reeled for a moment, hit by a shocking, incomprehensible he was having, but he couldn't believe the sensation he had just had either. "Isn't there anything we can do about it then?" he said. "No, nothing," said Ford, stuffing the peanuts into his pockets. Someone in the hushed bar suddenly laughed raucously at how stupid everyone had become. The man sitting next to Ford was a bit sozzled by now. His eyes waved their way up to Ford. "I thought," he said, "that if the world was going to end we were meant to lie down or put a paper bag over our head or something." "If you like, yes," said Ford. "That's what they told us in the army," said the man, and his eyes began the long trek back down to his whisky. "Will that help?" asked the barman. "No," said Ford and gave him a friendly smile. "Excuse me," he said, "I've sense of distance. He didn't know what it meant, but he looked at Ford Prefect with a new sense of respect, almost awe. "Are you serious, sir?" he said in a small whisper which had the effect of silencing the pub. "You think the world's going to end?" "Yes," said Ford. "But, this afternoon?" Ford had recovered himself. He was at his flippest. "Yes," he said gaily, "in less than two minutes I would estimate." The barman couldn't believe the conversation

Gockel Evolution IV

Gockel Evolution IVGockel Evolution IIIGockel Evolution IIGockel Evolution I
front of the building, which was as large as an upscale suburban house, a loggia was covered by a sturdy redwood trellis entwined for decades by a trumpet vine. He jumped from the roof onto the trellis.[542] From the trellis, he leaped to the lawn, allowed his knees to buckle as would a parachutist, fell, rolled, and sprang to his feet.He felt like Vin Diesel.After shrugging out of his backpack, he withdrew from it a gas mask. He tossed the pack aside and put on the mask.The unconscious in the main monitoring room. One sprawled on the floor, and the other slumped in a chair in front of a bank of video monitors.They would be profoundly unconscious for between sixty to eighty minutes. That was plenty of time for Corky to do his job and be gone.He pulled up athe power supply nor the estate-had been affected by the careful severance of outgoing and incoming phone service.In his gas mask, his breathing sounded like that of Darth Vader.central entrance to the groundskeeper’s building was not locked. He stepped into a service foyer.Just like the blueprints.To his right: a door supplies storeroom large enough also to garage the three riding lawnmowers as well as the two electric carts with which Yorn and his day crew moved fertilizer and other materials around the immense Directly ahead were stairs to the second floor.Upstairs, Corky found the two evening-shift guards

Klimt Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I

Klimt Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer IKlimt Irrlichter (Will-O'-The Wisps)Klimt Hygieia (detail from Medicine)Klimt Houses at Unterach on the Attersee
the front page, under the frightening headline, were two photographs: a publicity shot of Ghost Dad, and the front gate of the estate.Reluctant to read the report for fear that reading it would make it come true, Fric glanced at the bottom of to the door.He gasped for breath, though not because of his asthma. His heart boomed louder than the thunder that earlier had knocked through the sky.The Times lay on the floor by the overturned hamper.As Fric watched, the newspaper exploded off the Persian carpet as if caught in a wild wind, although not so much as a faint draft could [430] be felt. The several sections of the Times unfoldedthe column and saw that the story continued on page 8. He turned to page 8 in search of the picture most important to him.And there he was.Under his photo were these words: Aelfric Manheim, 10, missing since Tuesday night.As he stared in shock at the photo, his black-and-white image morphed into that of the mirror man, Mysterious Caller, his guardian angel: the cold face, the pale gray eyes.Fric tried to throw the Times down, but was unable to let go of it, not because his hands were moist with fear but because the newspaper seemed to have acquired a static charge, and clung to him.In the picture, Mysterious Caller became animated, as if this were not a newspaper photo but a miniature TV screen, and he spoke warningly from the Los Angeles Times: “Moloch is coming.”Then with no recollection of having taken a step, Fric found that he had crossed the rose room

Rivera Disembarkation of the Spanish at Vera Cruz (with Portrait of Cortez as a Hunchback)

Rivera Disembarkation of the Spanish at Vera Cruz (with Portrait of Cortez as a Hunchback)Rivera Diego & FridaRivera Corn Festival, (La Fiesta del Maiz)Rivera Battle Dance, (Los Santiagos)
FRIC IN THE ROSE ROOM, IN A CHAIR BY THE windows, looked out at his mother’s love-affirming gift of high-piled bronze road apples.The picnic hamper stood on the floor beside his chair, the lid closed.Although he would spend time here to that Freddie Nielander had been admitted to a private hospital somewhere in Florida. She was said to be suffering from exhaustion.With surprising frequency, supermodels were hospitalized for that reason. Apparently, being wildly glamorous twenty-four hours a day could be as physically demanding as the work of a plowhorse and as emotionally support the story that he had stupidly spewed out to Mr. Devonshire, he would not actually pretend to eat nonexistent ham sandwiches, partly because if someone saw him, they would for sure think Like mother, like son, but largely because he didn’t have any nonexistent dill pickles to go with them.Ha, ha, ha.At the time of the incident, almost two years ago, his mother’s publicist explained to the weasels in the scandal-hungry press draining as tending to the terminally

Thomas Kinkade xmas cottage painting

Thomas Kinkade xmas cottage paintingThomas Kinkade Victorian Autumn paintingThomas Kinkade The Night Before Christmas painting
normal, in a place and time when he needed to lie to survive, being a lousy liar could get him killed. shook their feathery fronds like the storm-tossed trees in Key Largo. Buses and cars and trucks and SUVs clogged the streets, their wipers not quite as persistent as the beating rain, side windows half fogged, horns bleating, brakes barking, jockeying for position, idling and spurting forward and idling again, the drivers exuding a palpable frustration reminiscent of the opening scene of Falling Down, minus the summer heat of that movie, minus Michael Douglas, although Ethan “ Sandwiches, sandwiches.”He was a moronically bad liar.[405] And he was alone. Even with some kind of half-assed guardian angel, he was really alone.Every time he passed a window, he was reminded also that the stormy day was melting away rapidly and that Moloch would most likely come in the night.Short for his age, thin for his age, a bad liar, alone, tick-tick-tick: He had nothing going for him.“Pandwiches,” he muttered to himself. “Just some jellybutter-and-seanut pandwiches.”He was doomed.

Alphonse Maria Mucha La Dame aux Camelias painting

Alphonse Maria Mucha La Dame aux Camelias paintingAlphonse Maria Mucha JOB paintingAlphonse Maria Mucha Gismonda painting
Rospo, Fric gathered earthquake lights in a picnic hamper.The mansion and the outlying buildings had been re-engineered for seismic security and retrofitted with structural reinforcements that were supposed to ensure little or no damage even from a two-minute shaker peaking at 8.0 on the Richter scale.Generally, 8.0 was considered to be the should continue to sprinkle eternally.This backup would be less useful if heretofore unknown volcanoes erupted under Los Angeles and disgorged rivers of molten lava that turned hundreds of square miles into a smoldering wasteland or if an [402] asteroid smashed into Bel Air. But even a star as famous and rich as Ghost Dad could not protect himself from cataclysm on a planetary scale.kiss-your-ass-good-bye number. Earthquakes that big struck only in movies.If a humungous killer quake knocked out the city’s power supply, Palazzo Rospo would be able to rely on gasoline-fueled generators in a subterranean vault that had two-foot-thick, poured-in-place, steel-reinforced walls and ceiling. Following a regional catastrophe, the mansion should remain fully lighted, the should continue to run, the elevators should still be operating, the refrigerators should remain cold.In the rose , the carved-granite fountain of urinating cherubs

John William Waterhouse Gather Ye Rosebuds while ye may painting

John William Waterhouse Gather Ye Rosebuds while ye may paintingLeonardo da Vinci Leda and the Swan paintingLeonardo da Vinci Head of Christ painting
things Manheim might be related to anything other than simple curiosity. She was an unwitting conspirator, a naive girl in love.“Do me,” Brittina insisted now, “do me,” and Corky obliged.Wind battered the narrow house and hard rain lashed its off to the bathroom.[389] Reaching under the bed, Corky retrieved the pistol where earlier he had hidden it.skinny flanks, and on the narrow bed, Brittina thrashed like an agitated mantis.This time, in their dreamy postcoital cuddle, Corky had no need to ask questions related to Manheim. He had more information on that subject than he needed to know.As occasionally was her wont, Brittina drifted into a monologue about the uselessness of literature: the antiquated nature of the written word; the coming triumph of image over language; those ideas that she called memes, which supposedly spread like viruses from mind to mind, creating new ways of thinking in society.Corky figured that his brain would explode if she didn’t shut up, after which he would need a new way to think.Eventually, Brittina clattered up from their love nest with the intention of rattling

Edgar Degas dance class painting

Edgar Degas dance class paintingEdgar Degas Ballet Rehearsal paintingEdgar Degas Absinthe painting
one another with two-syllable cries that seemed part alarm and part searching signal issued in mournful hope of a reply, the most forlorn sound in the world. This call of “Ethan, Ethan,” as though echoing down to a ravine from a lofty peak, had that same quality of melancholy and urgency.Listening to gulls, however, he had never imagined that he heard his name in their desolate voices. Nor had he ever thought that their plaints in the fog sounded like Hannah, as the far of fogbound nights and the unwary sailors who heard the singing of the Lorelei. They turned their ships toward her voice, seeking to understand the alluring promise of her words, steered onto her rock, wrecked their vessels, and drowned.This voice was more likely to be that of the Lorelei than that of his [373] lost Hannahvoice behind the speaker static sounded like her now.She no longer called his name, but she cried out something not quite decipherable. Her tone was the same that you might use to shout a warning at a man standing on a sidewalk in complete ignorance of a terrible weight of broken cornice falling toward him from atop the building at his back.Between the lobby and the upper level of the garage, half a floor from his destination, Ethan pressed STOP on the control panel. The cab braked, sagging slightly and rebounding on its cables.Even if this was indeed a voice speaking to him—and to him alone—through the overhead speaker, rather than proof of mental imbalance, he couldn’t allow himself to be hypnotized by it as he had been on the phone.He thought

Vincent van Gogh Self Portrait painting

Vincent van Gogh Self Portrait paintingFrank Dicksee La Belle Dame Sans Merci paintingSandro Botticelli The Birth of Venus painting
ETHAN GLANCED AT HIS WRISTWATCH, THEN at the indicator light on Line 24, timing the telephone call.He didn’t believe a dead person had dialed up Palazzo Rospo, dropping metaphysical coins into a pay phone on the Other Side. Dependably, this would be either a wrong with such a high-pressure approach that he would whom he must tread softly.Calls from the dead.Everyone has answered the phone, heard silence, and said “Hello” again, assuming that the caller has been distracted by someone on his end or that there is a problem with the switching equipment. When a [271] third “Hello” draws no response, we hang up, convinced rattle out his spiel even to the answering machine that recorded these messages.When Ming du Lac, spiritual adviser to the Face, had explained Line 24, Ethan had been perceptive enough to realize that Ming would be impatient with even so much as a raised eyebrow, and hostile to any expression of disbelief. He had managed to keep a straight face and a solemn voice.Only Mrs. McBee on the household staff and only Ming du Lac among Manheim’s other associates had the influence to get the great man to fire Ethan. He knew exactly with

Alphonse Maria Mucha Dance painting

Alphonse Maria Mucha Dance paintingMichelangelo Buonarroti Crucifix paintingMichelangelo Buonarroti Creation of Adam detail painting
This was one of nine massive spruces erected this very evening in key rooms throughout the mansion. Flawlessly shaped, Language—and paged to ROBIN GOODFELLOW, because Mysterious Caller had said that the man from whom Fric would soon need to hide “styles himself as Robin Goodfellow.”The definition was a single word: Puck.To Fric, this appeared to be an obscenity, although he didn’t know what it meant.Dictionaries were full of obscenities. This didn’t bother Fric. He assumed that the people who perfectly symmetrical, greener-than-green clone trees.Each of the nine evergreens would be decorated with a different theme. Here the subject was angels.Every ornament on the tree was an angel or featured an angel in its design. Baby angels, child angels, adult angels, blond angels with blue eyes, African-American angels, Asian angels, noble-looking American [222] Indian angels with feathered headdresses as well as halos. Angels smiling, angels laughing, angels using their halos as Hula-Hoops, angels flying, dancing, caroling, praying, and skipping rope. Cute dogs with angel wings. Angel cats, angel toads, an angel pig.Fric resisted the urge to puke.Leaving all the angels to glitter and glimmer and dangle and grin, he went into the book stacks, directly to the shelf that held the dictionaries. He sat on the floor with the biggest volume—The Random House Dictionary of the English

Frederic Edwin Church The Andes of Ecuador painting

Frederic Edwin Church The Andes of Ecuador paintingFrederic Edwin Church Mountains of Ecuador paintingFrederic Edwin Church Cross in the Wilderness paintingFrederic Edwin Church Rainy Season in the Tropics painting
When Ethan Truman, Manheim’s security chief, came calling, Reynerd had been stunned. By his admission, he behaved suspiciously.As Corky wadded up the candy wrapper and stuffed it into the trash bag, he wished restaurants, and attractions. The arcade was on this top level.With school out, kids crowded around the arcade . Most were in their early teens.The machines beeped, rang, tolled, chimed, bleated, tweedled, [85] whistled, rattattooed, boomed, shrieked, squealed, ululated, roared like gunning engines, emitted scraps of bombastic , the screams of virtual victims, twinkled, flashed, strobed, and scintillated in all known that he could dispose of Reynerd as easily.Suddenly rain fell more heavily than at any previous moment of the storm. The deluge knocked stubborn acorns from the oak under which he had parked, and cast them across the BMW. They rattled off the paint work and surely marred it, snapped off the windshield but did not crack it.He didn’t have to sit here, in a danger of acorns, plotting Reynerd’s demise, until a rotting thousand-pound limb broke free, fell on the car, and crushed him for his trouble. He could get on with his day and mentally draw up blueprints for the murder while he attended to ot.Corky drove a few miles to a popular upscale shopping mall and parked in the underground garage.He got out of the BMW, stripped off his slicker and his droopy rain hat, which he tossed onto the floor of the car. He shrugged into a that complemented his sweater and jeans.An elevator carried him from subterranean realms to the highest of two floors of shops,

Unknown Artist Les Vins Rouges painting

Unknown Artist Les Vins Rouges paintingUnknown Artist Les Vins Blancs paintingUnknown Artist Brent Lynch Under the Stars paintingUnknown Artist Brent Heighton Piano Jazz painting
before you set off downstream.'The Company was arranged in this way: Aragorn, Frodo, and Sam were in one boat; Boromir, Merry, and Pippin in another; and in the third were Legolas and Gimli, who had now become fast friends. In this last boat most of the goods and packs were stowed. The boats were moved and steered with short-handled paddles that had broad leaf-shaped blades. When all was ready Aragorn led them on a trial up white wings were halfdown the river as it drew nearer; and suddenly they perceived that it was a ship, wrought and carved with elven-skill in the likeness of a bird. Two elves clad in white steered it with black paddles. In the midst of the vessel sat Celeborn, and behind him stood Galadrielthe Silverlode. The current was swift and they went forward slowly. Sam sat in the bows, clutching the sides, and looking back wistfully to the shore. The sunlight glittering on the water dazzled his eyes. As they passed beyond the green field of the Tongue, the trees drew down to the river's brink. Here and there golden leaves tossed and floated on the rippling stream. The air was very bright and still, and there was a silence, except for the high distant song of larks.They turned a sharp bend in the river, and there, sailing proudly down the stream toward them, they saw a swan of great size. The water rippled on either side of the white breast beneath its curving neck. Its beak shone like burnished gold, and its eyes glinted like jet set in yellow stones; its huge

Michelangelo Buonarroti Creation of Adam painting

Michelangelo Buonarroti Creation of Adam paintingCaravaggio Amor Vincit Omnia painting
said Frodo. He had begun to shake off the terror of the clutching arm, and suddenly he felt extremely hungry.The proposal was welcomed by all; and they sat down on the upper steps, dim figures in the gloom. After they had eaten, Gandalf gave them each a third sip of the miruvor of Rivendell.`It will not last much longer, I am afraid,' he said; 'but a brief rest they started on their way again. All were eager to get the journey over as quickly as possible, and were willing, tired as they were, to go on marching still for several hours. Gandalf walked in front as before. In his left hand he held up his glimmering staff, the light of which just showed the ground before his feet; in his right he held his sword Glamdring. Behind him came Gimli
Raphael Saint George and the Dragon paintingClaude Monet Sunflowers painting
I think we need it after that horror at the gate. And unless we have great luck, we shall need all that is left before we see the other side! Go carefully with the water, too! There are many streams and wells in the Mines, but they should not be touched. We may not have a chance of filling our skins and bottles till we come down into Dimrill Dale.''How long is that going to take us? ' asked Frodo.'I cannot say,' answered Gandalf. 'It depends on many chances. But going straight, without mishap or losing our way, we shall take three or four marches, I expect. It cannot be less than forty miles from West-door to East-gate in a direct line, and the road may wind much.'After only

John Ottis Adams paintings

John Ottis Adams paintingsJohn Collier paintings
Fruitless did I call the victory of the Last Alliance? Not wholly so, yet it did not achieve its end. Sauron was diminished, but not destroyed. His Ring was lost but not unmade. The Dark Tower was broken, but its foundations were not removed; for they were made with the power of the Ring, and while it remains they will endure. Many Elves and many mighty Men, and many of their friends. had perished in the war. Anárion was slain, and Isildur was slain; and Gil-galad and Elendil were no more. Never again shall there be any such league of Elves and Men; for Men multiply and the Firstborn decrease, and the two kindreds are estranged. And ever since that day the race of Númenor has decayed, and the span of their years has lessened.
Jose Royo paintingsJuarez Machado paintings
This I will have as weregild for my father, and my brother," he said; and therefore whether we would or no, he took it to treasure it. But soon he was betrayed by it to his death; and so it is named in the North Isildur's Bane. Yet death maybe was better than what else might have befallen him.'Only to the North did these tidings come, and only to a few. Small wonder it is that you have not heard them, Boromir. From the ruin of the Gladden Fields, where Isildur perished, three men only came ever back over the mountains after long wandering. One of these was Ohtar, the esquire of Isildur, who bore the shards of the sword of Elendil; and he brought them to Valandil, the heir of Isildur, who being but a child had remained here in Rivendell. But Narsil was broken and its light extinguished, and it has not yet been forged again.

Gainsborough Mountainous Landscape With Cart And Figures

Gainsborough Mountainous Landscape With Cart And FiguresGainsborough An Extensive Landscape With Cattle And A DroverLi-Leger Nine Patch Canvas ArtBotticelli The Virgin and Child with Five Angels
a hungry face and bony groping hands. He felt a round them seemed to falter and a silence fell. Bilbo looked quickly at Frodo's face and passed his hand across his eyes. `I understand now,' he said. `Put it away! I am sorry: sorry you have come in for this burden: sorry about everything. Don't adventures ever have an end? I suppose not. Someone else always has to carry on the story. Well, it can't be helped. I wonder if it's any gooda smile.Suddenly Bilbo looked up. 'Ah, there you are at last, Dúnadan!' he cried.`Strider!' said Frodo. `You seem to have a lot of names.'`Well, Strider is one that I haven't heard before, anyway,' said Bilbo. `What do you call him that for?'`They call me that in Bree,' said Strider laughing, 'and that is how I was introduced to him.'`And why do you call him Dúnadan?' asked Frodo.`The Dúnadan,' said Bilbo. `He is often called that here. But I thought you knew enough trying to finish my book? But don't let's worry about it now-let's have some real News! Tell me all about the Shire!'Frodo hid the Ring away, and the shadow passed leaving hardly a shred of memory. Rivendell was about him again. Bilbo smiled and laughed happily. Every item of news from the Shire that Frodo could tell-aided and corrected now and again by Sam-was of the greatest interest to him, from the felling of the least tree to the pranks of the smallest child in Hobbiton. They were so deep in the doings of the Four Farthings that they did not notice the arrival of a man clad in dark green cloth. For many minutes he stood looking down at them with

Godward Study of Campaspe

Godward Study of CampaspeGodward On the BalconyGodward Lesbia with her SparrowGodward Leaning on the Balcony
That over hills were doomed to roam;And forth he hastened, strong and fleet, And grasped at moonbeams glistening.Through woven
He heard there oft the flying sound Of feet as light as linden-welling underground, In hidden hollows quavering.Now withered lay the hemlock-sheaves, And one by one with sighing soundWhispering fell the beechen leaves In the wintry woodland wavering.
He sought her ever, wandering far Where leaves of years were thickly strewn,By light of moon and ray of star In frosty heavens shivering.Her mantle glinted in the moon, As on a hill-top high and farShe danced, and at her feet was strewn A mist of silver quivering.
When winter passed, she came again, And her song released the sudden spring,Like rising lark, and falling rain, And melting water bubbling.He saw the elven-flowers spring About her feet, and healed againHe longed by her to dance and sing Upon the grass untroubling.

Neiman 18th at Pebble Beach

Neiman 18th at Pebble BeachNeiman 125th Preakness StakesWar EmblemSmarty Jones
has his house to mind, and Goldberry is waiting.'It was still fairly early by the sun, something between nine and ten, and the hobbits turned their minds to food. Their last meal had been lunch beside the standing stone the day before. They breakfasted now off the remainder of Tom's provisions, meant for their supper, with additions that Tom had brought with him. It was not a large meal (considering hobbits and the circumstances), but they felt much better for it. While they were eating Tom went up to the mound, and looked through the treasures. Most of these he made into a pile that glistened and sparkled on the grass. He bade them lie there blue stones, many-shaded like flax-flowers or the wings of blue butterflies. He looked long at it, as if stirred by some memory, shaking his head, and saying at last:'Here is a pretty toy for Tom and for his lady! Fair was she who long ago wore this on her shoulder. Goldberry shall wear it now, and we will not forget her!'For each of the hobbits he chose a dagger, long, leaf-shaped, and keen, of marvellous workmanship, damasked with serpent-forms in red and gold. They gleamed as he drew them from their black sheaths, wrought of some strange metal, light and strong, and set with many fiery stones. Whether 'free to all finders, birds, beasts. Elves or Men, and all kindly creatures'; for so the spell of the mound should be broken and scattered and no Wight ever come back to it. He chose for himself from the pile a brooch set with