William Merritt Chase paintings

William Merritt Chase paintings
William Blake paintings
Winslow Homer paintings
haven’t any whisky, honest. There may be a drop of brandy in the first-aid cupboard.”
“Let’s look at it.”
It was of a reputable brand. Basil took two snorts. He gasped. Tears came to his eyes. He felt for support on the wall-bars beside him. For a moment he feared nausea. Then a great warmth and elation were kindled inside him. This was youth indeed; childhood no less. Thus he had been exalted in his first furtive swigging in his father’s pantry. He had drunk as much brandy as this twice a day, most days of his adult , after a variety of preliminary potations, and had felt merely a slight heaviness. Now in his etherealized condition he was, as it were, raised from the earth, held aloft and then lightly deposited; a mystical experience as though on Ganges bank or a spur of the Himalayas.
There was a mat near his feet, thick, padded, bed-like. Here he subsided and lay in ecstasy; quite outside his body, high and happy, his spirit soared; he shut his eyes.
“You can’t stay here, sir. I’ve got to lock up.”
“Don’t worry,” said Basil. “I’m not here.”