Camille Pissarro The Harvest 1882

Camille Pissarro The Harvest 1882Camille Pissarro The garden at Pontoise 1877Camille Pissarro The Chestnut Trees at OsnyCamille Pissarro Rue de Louveciennes 1872
falconer appeared around the comer, dabbing at his face with a handkerchief. On his other arm, claws gripping like a torture instrument, was a bird. Evil red eyes glared at Magrat over a razor-sharp beak.
“I’ve got a new hawk,” said Hodgesaargh proudly. “It’s a
Lancre crowhawk. They’ve never been tamed before. I’m
taming it. I’ve much patient breeding and training Hodgesaargh had man-aged to get them to let go of someone’s wrist, and now he was working on stopping them viciously attacking the per-son who had just been holding them, i.e., invariably Hodgesaargh. He was nevertheless a remarkably optimistic and good-natured man who lived for the day when his hawks would be the finest in the world. The hawks lived for the day when they could eat his other ear.
“I can see you’re doing very well,” said Magrat. “You don’t think, do you, that already stopped it pecking myooooow—“He flailed the hawk madly against the wall until it let go of his nose.Strictly speaking, Hodgesaargh wasn’t his real name. Onthe other hand, on the basis that someone’s real name is the97Terry Pratchettname they introduce themselves to you by, he was definitely Hodgesaargh.This was because the hawks and falcons in the castle mews were all Lancre birds and therefore naturally pos-sessed of a certain “sod you” independence of mind. After