Andrea Mantegna Virgin and child with the Magdalen and St John the Baptist

Andrea Mantegna Virgin and child with the Magdalen and St John the BaptistAndrea Mantegna The Madonna of the CherubimAndrea Mantegna The Adoration of the Shepherds
cobblers, poetry,” said Ridcully. “I’ve listened to mountain streams and they just go trickle, trickle, gurgle.
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Terry Pratchett
And you get them things in them, you know, insect things with little . . . anyway. Doesn’t sound like laughter at all, is my point. Poets always get it wrong. ‘S’like ‘she had lips like cherries.’ Small, round, and got a stone in the middle? Hah!”
He shut his eyes. After a while Ponder said, “So what happened, sir?”
“What?”
“The girl you were telling me about.”
“What girl?”
“This girl.”
“Oh, that girl. Oh, she turned me down. Said there were things she wanted to do. Said there’d be time enough.”
There was her
name. Hah! She could outrun a horse—“
“Kneel and deliver!”
The coach rattled to a halt.
Ridcully opened an eye.
“What’s that?” he said.another pause.“What happened then?” Ponder prompted.“Happened? What d’you think happened? I went off and studied. Term started. Wrote her a lot of letters but she never answered ‘em. Probably never got ‘em, they probably eat the mail up there. Next year I was studying all summer and never had time to go back. Never did go back. Exams and so on. Expect she’s dead now, or some fat old granny with a dozen kids. Would’ve wed her like a shot. Like a shot.” Ridcully scratched his head. “Hah . . . just wish I could remember her name ...”He stretched out with his feet on the Bursar.“’S’funny, that,” he said. “Can’t even remember
Ponder jerked awake from a reverie of lips like mountain