large/7245/short_story_053_1212_librivox_64kb_mp3/shortstory053_04_titbottomsspectacles_lja_64kb_31
large/7245/short_story_053_1212_librivox_64kb_mp3/shortstory053_04_titbottomsspectacles_lja_64kb
English
7245
"We have no portrait of him, but I see always, when I remember him, that peaceful and luxuriant palm. WE HAVE NO PORTRAIT OF HIM BUT I SEE ALWAYS WHEN I REMEMBER HIM THAT PEACEFUL AND LUXURIANT PALM
 seemed to me faint reminiscences of that calm and happy vision. But all this peace and prosperity seemed to flow from the spreading palm as from a fountain. "I do not know how long I looked, but I had, apparently, no power, as I had no will, to remove the spectacles. What a wonderful island must Nevis be, thought I, if people carry such pictures in their pockets, only by buying a pair of spectacles! What wonder that my dear grandmother Titbottom has lived such a placid life, and has blessed us all with her sunny temper, when she has lived surrounded by such images of peace! "My grandfather died. But still, in the warm morning sunshine upon the piazza, I felt his placid presence, and as I crawled into his great chair, and drifted on in reverie through the still tropical day, it was as if his soft dreamy eye had passed into my soul. My grandmother cherished his memory with tender regret. A violent passion of grief for his loss was no more possible than for the pensive decay of the year. ALIAN PAINTER CLOD WHICH SEEMED TO ME FAINT REMINISCENCES OF THAT CALM AND HAPPY VISION BUT ALL THIS PEACE AND PROSPERITY SEEMED TO FLOW FROM THE SPREADING PALM AS FROM A FOUNTAIN I DO NOT KNOW HOW LONG I LOOKED BUT I HAD APPARENTLY NO POWER AS I HAD NO WILL TO REMOVE THE SPECTACLES WHAT A WONDERFUL ISLAND MUST NEVERS BE THOUGHT I IF PEOPLE CARRY SUCH PICTURES IN THEIR POCKETS ONLY BY BUYING A PAIR OF SPECTACLES WHAT WONDER THAT MY DEAR GRANDMOTHER TIT BOTTOM HAS LIVED SUCH A PLACID LIFE AND HAS BLESSED US ALL WITH HER SUNNY TEMPER WHEN SHE HAS LIVED SURROUNDED BY SUCH IMAGES OF PEACE MY GRANDFATHER DIED BUT STILL IN THE WARM MORNING SUNSHINE UPON THE PIAZZA I FELT HIS PLACID PRESENCE AND AS I CRAWLED INTO HIS GREAT CHAIR AND DRIFTED ON IN REVERIE THROUGH THE STILL TROPICAL DAY IT WAS AS IF HIS SOFT DREAMY EYE HAD PASSED INTO MY SOUL MY GRANDMOTHER CHERISHED HIS MEMORY WITH TENDER REGRET A VIOLENT PASSION OF GRIEF FOR HIS LOSS WAS NO MORE POSSIBLE THAN FOR THE PENSIVE DECAY OF THE YEAR
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