DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.30147#0056
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At thebottom of his Ipswich garden, grew
a hne bergamot pear tree, and while Mr.
Gainsborough had his Palate and Brushes
in his hand, Thomas ziwlooking wishfully
over the wall3 and contemplating how he
could come at some of the wind-falls, the
sun ilione jull upon the top of Thomas’s
nose, and chin, while all the rell of his
deje6ted countenance, appeared inshadow
under his broad brimed hat, which so
struck Mr. Gainsborough’s fancy (for such
are the happy moments for poets and
painters) that he snatched up his window
shutter, and got Thomas into his painting
room, before he had even tasted of the
forbidden fruit. There is something so
admirably well expressed in the magazine
relative to Mr, Gainsborough’s peculiar
and
At thebottom of his Ipswich garden, grew
a hne bergamot pear tree, and while Mr.
Gainsborough had his Palate and Brushes
in his hand, Thomas ziwlooking wishfully
over the wall3 and contemplating how he
could come at some of the wind-falls, the
sun ilione jull upon the top of Thomas’s
nose, and chin, while all the rell of his
deje6ted countenance, appeared inshadow
under his broad brimed hat, which so
struck Mr. Gainsborough’s fancy (for such
are the happy moments for poets and
painters) that he snatched up his window
shutter, and got Thomas into his painting
room, before he had even tasted of the
forbidden fruit. There is something so
admirably well expressed in the magazine
relative to Mr, Gainsborough’s peculiar
and