A Melody in Silver

Keene Abbott

Capitolo 52

beautiful face of a youth. You had never shown the portrait to
his/her small boy, and it was not aware that he knew anything him.

"That won't do" she ever, told David. "It doesn't belong to you,
and you/he/she cannot be given away. It has to be always kept. People take care of
a great quantity for--of the portraits. They has a meaning that is
one of the life of very better things can often have never. If You
you/he/she should be taken by me, and if me he/she anchors I had to have Your portrait,
that would be almost the best thing that I could have. You see how it
it is. If some had to make the photo, I could never get
an anything else other than so a lot he/she would like to tell me."

They started to walk on and down the room. The small boy was
seizing himself/herself/itself to the hand of Mother and him continued to tangle his/her feet you pink in
the folds of his/her evening suit, while its crying eyes were sheltered
constantly on the serious face above of him.

"Mother!" did he/she suddenly call out, "where my discard-book is?"

David had found a way. Mother and he expedited to the bookstore. In
great their alacrities searched the shelves;  periodicals were inclined
apart;  brochures and papers were inclined apart--Good! Here it was,
that albums. Wild with excitement David started to turn himself/herself/themselves with the thumb the
pages;  him laughed;  he lacerated some of the leaves. Then he traced
down on his/her principal treasure, a portrait that had Mitch Horrigan
wanted to buy with some strips of can, the harp of a broken Hebrew and a
wad of the wax of cobbler.

A great masterpiece, this. To the eyes of the void infancy it was able
is more beautiful. It was a cow color pink and melancholy with a disdains
cleric expression, a very dignified animal, taken in the action
to calmly ignore the rope.

"Splendid!" Mother exclaimed.

"Yes", David answered, while gasping with relief. Then he snickered in
triumphs, and Mother did, also. When the portrait had been freed
from the page the small boy softly held him/it in his/her hands.
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