Guercino paintings

Guercino paintings
Henry Peeters paintings
had told her the old story. His love for her trembled in every tone--that love that had never grown faint or forgetful.
"Anyway, I hope when my time comes I'll go quick and easy. I don't think I'm a coward, Mistress Blythe--I've looked an ugly death in the face more than once without blenching. But the thought of a lingering death does give me a queer, sick feeling of horror."
"Don't talk about leaving us, dear, dear Captain, Jim," pleaded Anne, in a choked voice, patting the old brown hand, once so strong, but now grown very feeble. "What would we do without you?"
Captain Jim smiled beautifully.
"Oh, you'd get along nicely--nicely--but you wouldn't forget the old man altogether, Mistress Blythe--no, I don't think you'll ever quite forget him. The race of Joseph always remembers one another. But it'll be a memory that won't hurt--I like to think that my memory won't hurt my friends--it'll always be kind of pleasant to them, I hope and believe. It won't be very