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Six weeks at Long's by a late resident [E.S. Barrett]. (1817)
Six weeks at Long's by a late resident - E.S. Barrett - 1817 Author:Eaton Stannard Barrett Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: CHAPTER XVI. The next day Morland called at Coulter's, and found the family full of observations on the events of the preceding evening, and of amusing critic... more »isms on the several characters who had figured at the countess's convezatione. All agreed as to its stupidity; and Hyppolita remarked, that, considering every one went there in a literary point of view, nothing could possibly be less enlightened, or more stupid, than the whole entertainment. After this subject had been pretty well exhausted, Morland proposedgoing to the exhibition at Somerset House. Accordingly, a coach was called, and the whole party adjourned thither. Mr. and Mrs. Coulter admired some of the paintings excessively—they were so red, and so blue, and so yellow—there waa nothing misty ajid. obscure in them, like some old paintings—all was gay and exhilarating, fresh and airy. Mrs. Coulter remarked that she had once seen some old pictures in a manor-house, near Hull, which were so dark, that though some of them were meant to represent spring, and hay-making, you would imagine, from the gloominess of the tints, that the whole landscape was surrounded by a monstrous dungeon, and that dungeon lighted by a solitary torch. Give her, she said, green grass, and sun-shine. She had no notion of using dark colours, while light ones might be had at the same expense. Coulter, himself, too, was not without his observations. He remarked, that all the faces, intended to represent pretty women, had the game set of features; that there was too much starch in their dresses, and that the shadows of their white muslins were all blue. ' There," said he, " look at the an- kles of that there young woman, who is a going to kill; herself. My life for it, if you clap a pair of silk stockings on them, and send them up Bond St...« less