Thomas Kinkade Serenity Cove painting

Thomas Kinkade Serenity Cove painting
Thomas Kinkade San Francisco Lombard Street painting
Now, Mr. Cruncher,' said Miss Pross, whose eyes were red with felicity; `if you are ready, I am.'
Jerry hoarsely professed himself at Miss Pross's service. He had worn all his rust off long ago, but nothing would file his spiky head down.
`There's all manner of things wanted,' said Miss Pross, `and we shall have a precious time of it. We want wine, among the rest. Nice toasts these Redheads will calamity at home, Miss Pross threaded her way along the narrow streets and crossed the river by the bridge of the Pont-Neuf reckoning in her mind the number of indispensable purchases she had to make. Mr. Cruncher, with the basket, walked at her side. They both looked to the right and to the left into most of the shops they passed, had a wary eye for all gregarious assemblages of people, and turned out of their road to avoid any very excited group of talkers. It was a raw evening, and the misty river, blurred to the eye with blazing lights and to the ear with harsh noises, showed where the barges were stationed in which the smiths worked, making guns for the Army of the Republic. Woe to the man who played tricks with that Army, or got undeserved promotion in it! Better for him that his beard had never grown, for the National Razor shaved him closebe drinking, wherever we buy it.'