Edwin Lord Weeks paintings

Edwin Lord Weeks paintings
Frida Kahlo paintings
Frederick Carl Frieseke paintings
His eyes fell on the broken window. ‘Has that been entered in the barrack damages?’
‘Not yet, sir.’
‘Not yet? I wonder when it would have been, if I hadn’t seen it. ‘
He was not at ease with me, and much of his bluster rose from timidity, but I thought none the better of it for that.
He led me behind the huts to a wire fence which divided my area from the carrier-platoon’s, skipped briskly over, and made for an overgrown ditch and bank which had once been a field boundary on the farm. Here he began grubbing with his stick like a truffling pig and presently gave a cry of triumph. He had disclosed one of those deposits of rubbish which are dear to the private soldier’s sense of order: the head of a broom, the lid of a stove, a bucket rusted through, a sock, a loaf of bread, lay under the dock and nettle among cigarette packets and empty tins.
‘Look at that,’ said the commanding officer. ‘Fine impression