Pierre Auguste Renoir Les baigneuses

Pierre Auguste Renoir Les baigneusesPierre Auguste Renoir By the SeashoreThomas Kinkade Victorian Autumn
The cottage radiated emptiness. They could feel it. The windows did look like eyes, black and menacing against the snow. And no one in the Ramtops let their fire go out in the winter, as a matter of pride.
Esk than an old almanac, or more precisely about half an old almanac, carefully hung on a nail. Granny had a philosophical objection to reading, but she'd be the last to say that books, especially books with nice thin pages, didn't have their uses.
The key shared a ledge by the door with a chrysalis and the stump of a candle. Esk took it gingerly, trying not to disturb the chrysalis, and hurried back to the boys.
It was no use trying the front door. Front doors in Bad Ass were used only by wanted to say "Let's go knew that if she did the boys would run for it. Instead she said, "Mother says there's a key on a nail in the privy," and that was nearly as bad. Even an ordinary unknown privy held minor terrors like wasps' nests, large spiders, mysterious rustling things in the roof and, one very bad winter, a small hibernating bear that caused acute constipation in the family until it was persuaded to bed down in the haybam. A witch's privy could contain anything. "I'll go and look, shall I?" she added. "If you like," said Gulta airily, almost successfully concealing his relief. In fact, when she managed to get the door open against the piled snow, it was neat and clean and contained nothing more sinister