File:The Argosy (1865) (14757201076).jpg

Identifier: argosythe43wood (find matches)
Title: The Argosy
Year: 1865 (1860s)
Authors: Wood, Henry, Mrs., 1814-1887 Wood, Charles W. (Charles William), b. 1850?
Subjects:
Publisher: London (etc.) R. Bentley (etc.)
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

View Book Page: Book Viewer
About This Book: Catalog Entry
View All Images: All Images From Book
Click here to view book online to see this illustration in context in a browseable online version of this book.

Text Appearing Before Image:
y. The horrors ofimagination were mine. Before the hour struck I found myself atthe door of the sacristy. It was open, and a very amiable youngfellow admitted me. I could almost have embraced him. I hastened to the far end and found H. C. in a state of collapse.There was not even the shghtest suspicion of poetry in him. Youhave heard of the Hercules Furens. If you can imagine the exactopposite to this—a Samson shorn of his locks—such was H. C. atthat moment. The stimulant came to the rescue and restored himto his ordinary self. Then he showed me his sketch. He had 128 Letters from Majorca, managed to work well, and it was very fine and bold. The subject isextremely difficult, but with H. C. it seems that the greater thedifficulty, the happier the result. I suppose that, like going up a hill,or climbing a tower, we put on extra strength to meet the occasion. But he could work no more to-day. And it was after this that,wandering about the town, we entered the church, where they were
Text Appearing After Image:
Palma. getting ready for a Requiem, and where the kneeling figures formedso conspicuous a part of the attraction. I have spoken to you of the sea and its calm waters that for everbeat and break and surge at the foot of this beautiful Palma—theblue waters of the Mediterranean. But they are not always serene.They were not so the night we crossed. Every now and then thelittle boat struggled and strained and shook and shivered, and now Letters from Majorca, 129 and then by way of variety seemed to stand on end, uncertainwhether to turn a somersault or not. For several days after this astorm raged, the sea beat upon the shore, the winds blew, and theweather was altogether exceptional for Majorca. The very night after our arrival, a vessel was wrecked just in frontof the Cathedral, and there it lies, a sad monument to departed glory.It is gradually going to pieces. The morning after, we went downand took a photograph of it—for we have brought with us a camerawherewith to beguile idle mo

Note About Images