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Brandywine Museum of Art
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Magazine Illustrations, 1911-1920
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Magazine Illustrations, 1911-1920
229 to 240 of 300
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Step by step she forced herself to move across the floor till she stood above the bed.
N.C. Wyeth
1912
Stop this one! Him--the sixth!
N.C. Wyeth
1915
The story of the battle upon the tumbling decks of the Nathan Ross was to be retold at many a gam upon the whaling-grounds.
N.C. Wyeth
ca. 1919
The stranger, Tsaga, had appeared suddenly at the fort with neither dogs nor gun, nor anything soever save the Indian costume that he wore.
N.C. Wyeth
1913
The stream began to bear us away from those ranks of fortunate folks who stood to listen to Jennie May.
N.C. Wyeth
1919
Suddenly the bag opened, and a torrent of letters fell to the floor. 'Genie's face flushed red as fire.
N.C. Wyeth
1912
The sun beat down upon him. The dry, white dust beat up around him. The girl sagged and lolled on his shoulder
N.C. Wyeth
1916
"Sure, it's Professor Grid to the life!" he said admiringly.
N.C. Wyeth
1910
"Take a drink - maybe you'll feel better," he urged huskily, and unscrewed the canteen top. "We all---"
N.C. Wyeth
1916
Ten thousand dollars! Why, even one thousand dollars would keep him clothed, housed and fed for the few remaining years of his life and there would be enough left over to keep his old body out of Potter's Field. His hands trembled and the white fire of the diamonds flashed more temptingly.
N.C. Wyeth
1914
"That's right," said the old captain; "take your time and get a good look round. It's your last chance, son!"
N.C. Wyeth
1914
"The advance was rapid, amazingly so . . . . A national vigor flowered afresh at Château-Thierry. . . . They outdistanced their artillery and supply trains. . . .in fact, they outstripped everything, including their commanders' calculations"
N.C. Wyeth
1918
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