And I waited, with more impatience than hope, the utterance of his researches.
"I got it now; I got it all, miss, clear as any pictur'!" the old man cried out, at the very moment when I was about to say, "Please to leave off; I am sure it is too much for you." "Not a pictur' in all of our gallery, miss, two-and-fifty of 'em, so clear as I see that there man, dark as it was, and a heavy wind a-blowing.

What you call them things, miss, if you please, as comes with the sun, like a face upon the water?
Wicked things done again the will of the Lord, and He makes them fade out afterwards." "Perhaps you mean photographs.

Is that the word ?" "The very word, and no mistake.

A sinful trespass on the works of God, to tickle the vanity of gals.

But he never spread himself abroad like them.