Thomas Gainsborough The Watering Place

Thomas Gainsborough The Watering PlaceThomas Gainsborough The Morning WalkThomas Gainsborough The Harvest Wagon
didn't. He brought it back. His wife didn't like the color."
"And you gave him his money back?" Yes."
"What, all of it?"
"Yes."
"Can't do that. Not after he's put wear and tear on the words. Which one was it?"
" `It's a wise crow that knows which way the camel points.' "
"I put a lot of A cheap one, too, by the sound of it.
He looked up at the wall behind the barrel. Further along was an impressive set of marble steps leading up to some bronze doors, and over the doors, made of metal letters set in the stone, was the word LIBRVM.
He'd spent too much time looking. Urn's hand clamped itself on to his shell, and he heard Didactylos's voice say, "Hey . . . there's good eating on one of these things . . .work in on that one.""He said he couldn't understand it.""I don't understand cobbling, but I know a good pair of sandals when I wears 'em."Om blinked his one eye. Then he looked at the shapes of the minds in front of him.The one called Urn was presumably the nephew, and had a fairly normal sort of mind, even if it did seem to have too many circles and angles in it. But Didactylos's mind bubbled and flashed like a potful of electric eels on full boil. Om had never seen anything like it. Brutha's thoughts took eons to slide into place, it was like watching mountains colliding; Didactylos's thoughts chased after one another with a whooshing noise. No wonder he was bald. Hair would have burned off from the inside.Om had found a thinker.