The King of the Golden River: A Legend of Stiria ...

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L.C. Page & Company, 1898 - 55 Seiten
 

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The King of the Golden River

Nutzerbericht  - www.publishersweekly.com

Blake’s signature kinetic line and quivering washes of bold color illustrate an 1842 folktale by the influential art critic John Ruskin. Three brothers—two awful, one sweet—live in an Edenic valley ... Vollständige Rezension lesen

LibraryThing Review

Nutzerbericht  - juniperSun - LibraryThing

Not a bad moral tale, but the words were too uncommon for easy understanding by younger children. Gluck meekly obeys his brothers commands, is beaten by them when he doesn't, but still has a good ... Vollständige Rezension lesen

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Seite 37 - ... pleased, and said that Hans must certainly have been turned into a black stone, and he should have all the gold to himself. But Gluck was very sorry, and cried all night. When he got up in the morning, there was no bread in the house, nor any money ; so Gluck went, and hired himself to another goldsmith, and he worked so hard, and so neatly, and so long every day, that he soon got money enough together, to pay his brother's fine, and he went, and gave it all to Schwartz, and Schwartz got out...
Seite 38 - Water, indeed," said Schwartz; "I haven't half enough for myself," and passed on. And as he went he thought the sunbeams grew more dim, and he saw a low bank of black cloud rising out of the west; and, when he had climbed for another hour, the thirst overcame him again, and he would have drunk. Then he saw the old man lying before him on the path, and heard him cry out for water. "Water, indeed," said Schwartz; "I haven't half enough for myself,
Seite 19 - He ran to the opening, and looked in; yes, he saw right, it seemed to be coming, not only out of the furnace, but out of the pot. He uncovered it, and ran back in a great fright, for the pot was certainly singing! He stood in the farthest corner of the room, with his hands up, and his mouth open, for a minute or two, when the singing stopped, and the voice became clear, and pronunciative. "Hollo!" said the voice. Gluck made no answer. "Hollo! Gluck, my boy,
Seite 41 - Gluck found that Schwartz did not come back he was very sorry, and did not know what to do. He had no money, and was obliged to go and hire himself again to the goldsmith, who worked him very hard, and gave him very little money. So, after a month or two, Gluck grew tired, and made up his mind to go and try his fortune with the Golden River. "The little king looked very kind,
Seite 45 - And as he was hanging the flask to his belt again he saw a little dog lying on the rocks, gasping for breath — just as Hans had seen it on the day of his ascent.
Seite 40 - Shuddering he drew the flask from his girdle, and hurled it into the centre of the torrent. As he did so, an icy chill shot through his limbs: he staggered, shrieked, and fell. The waters closed over his cry. And the moaning of the river rose wildly into the night, as it gushed over THE BLACK STONE.
Seite 43 - I am faint with thirst, give me some of that water." Then Gluck looked at him, and, when he saw that he was pale and weary, he gave him the water; "Only pray don't drink it all,
Seite 40 - And the sky where the sun was setting was all level, and like a lake of blood; and a strong wind came out of that sky, tearing its crimson clouds into fragments, and scattering them far into the darkness. And when Schwartz stood by the brink of the Golden River, its waves were black, like thunder clouds, but their foam was like fire; and the roar of the waters below, and the thunder above met, as he cast the flask into the stream. And, as he did so, the lightning glared in his eyes, and the earth...
Seite 26 - The discovery of the total loss of their last piece of plate had the effect of sobering them just enough to enable them to stand over Gluck, beating him very steadily for a quarter of an hour; at the expiration of which period they dropped into a couple of chairs, and requested to know what he had got to say for himself. Gluck told them his story, of which of course they did not believe a word. They beat him again, till their arms were tired, and staggered to bed. In the morning, however, the steadiness...
Seite 28 - River to seek for. Level lines of dewy mist lay stretched along the valley, out of which rose the massy mountains, — their lower cliffs in pale gray shadow, hardly distinguishable from the floating vapor, but gradually ascending till they caught the sunlight, which ran in sharp touches of ruddy color along the angular crags, and pierced, in long level rays, through their fringes of spear-like pine. Far above, shot up red splintered masses of castellated rock, jagged and shivered into myriads of...

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