Nighthawks Hopper

Nighthawks Hopper
Nude on the Beach
One Moment in Time
precious time
My footsteps seemed to tend so naturally to the shop door, after I had read these words from over the way, that I went across the road and looked in. There was a pretty woman at the back of the shop, dancing a little child in her arms, while another little fellow clung to her apron. I had no difficulty in recognizing either Minnie or Minnie's children. The glass door of the parlour was not open; but in the workshop across the yard I could faintly hear the old tune playing, as if it had never left off. ¡¡¡¡'Is Mr. Omer at home?' said I, entering. 'I should like to see him, for a moment, if he is.' ¡¡¡¡'Oh yes, sir, he is at home,' said Minnie; 'the
oil painting
weather don't suit his asthma out of doors. Joe, call your grandfather!' ¡¡¡¡The little fellow, who was holding her apron, gave such a lusty shout, that the sound of it made him bashful, and he buried his face in her skirts, to her great admiration. I heard a heavy puffing and blowing coming towards us, and soon Mr. Omer, shorter-winded than of yore, but not much older-looking, stood before me. ¡¡¡¡'Servant, sir,' said Mr. Omer. 'What can I do for you, sir?' 'You can shake hands with me, Mr. Omer, if you please,' said I, putting out my own. 'You were very good-natured to me once, when I am afraid I didn't show that I thought so.' ¡¡¡¡'Was I though?' returned the old man. 'I'm glad to hear it, but I don't remember when. Are you sure it was me?'