Marc Chagall Adam and Eve

Marc Chagall Adam and EveMarc Chagall La MarieePaul Gauguin Yellow ChristPaul Gauguin Where Do We Come From
me. Now, elves is worse than me, I’ll admit. But I’m persistent.”
Weaver put up a tentative hand.
“Please, Mrs. Ogg?”
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“Yes, Weaver?”
“What exactly is the action of the Reciprocating Fox?”
Nanny scratched her ear.
“As I recall,” she said, “its back legs go like this but its front legs go like this.”
“No, no, no,” said Quamey the storekeeper. “It’s its tail that goes like that. Its legs go like this.”
“That’s not reciprocating, that’s just oscillating,” said someone. “You’re thinking of the Ring-tailed Ocelot.”
Nanny nodded.
“I’ll just stroll along behind,” said Nanny.
“Oh. Well. Maybe as far as the jaws of hell, then.”
“Amazing,” said Casanunda to Nanny, as the crowd filed reluctantly toward the armory.
“You just got to know how to deal with people.”
“They’ll follow where an Ogg leads?”
“Not exactly,” said Nanny, “but if they know what’s good for ‘em they’ll go where an Ogg follows.”
Magrat stepped out from under the trees, and the moorland
lay ahead of her.
A whirlpool of cloud swirled over the Dancers, or at
least, over the place where the Dancers had been. She