leonardo da vinci the last supper

leonardo da vinci the last supper A charming introduction to a hermit's life! Four weeks' torture, tossing, and sickness! Oh! these bleak winds and bitter northern skies, and impassable roads, and dilatory country surgeons! And, oh, this dearth of the human physiognomy! and, worse than all, the terrible intimation of Kenneth that I need not expect to be out of doors till spring!
Mr Heathcliff has just honoured me with a calls About seven days ago he sent me a brace of grouse--the last of the season. Scoundrel! He is not altogether guiltless in this illness of mine; and that I had a great mind to tell him. But, alas! how could I offend a man who was charitable enough to sit at my bedside a good hour, and talk
leonardo da vinci the last supper
on some other subject than pills and draughts, blisters and leeches? This is quite an easy interval. I am too weak to read; yet I feel as if I could enjoy something interesting. Why not have up Mrs Dean to finish her tale? I can recollect its chief incidents as far as she had gone. Yes: I remember her hero had run off, and never been heard of for three years; and the heroine was married. I'll ring: she'll be delighted to find me capable of talking cheerfully. Mrs Dean came.
`It wants twenty minutes, sir, to taking the medicine,' she commenced.
`Away, away with it!' I replied; `I desire to have---'
`The doctor says you must drop the powders.'
leonardo da vinci the last supper