Howard Behrens paintings

Howard Behrens paintings
Henri Fantin-Latour paintings
Horace Vernet paintings
wise guy," one of them said.
"I don't know, Bill," said the other.
"George Giles the Goat-Boy," I announced, rising proudly to shake hands.
They exchanged glances. "Come off it, pal," Bill said. "Let's see your matric card."
Pleased at the chance to demonstrate my point, I displayed the blank ID-card with a smile. "What difference does a name make, classmates? Iam, that's all."
"What'd I tell you," his colleague said to him. Bill grunted.
I was surprised and pleased. "You've thought of it before? That none of us really has a name?"
"Some stinks worse'n others, though," Bill said. The two each took an elbow, and they led me inside. When I understood that the jacket they called for was for me, and strait, I protested I'd only come to visit Dr. Sear. Bill acknowledged again, grudgingly, that his companion's guess had been correct. "I knew he treated lots of them animal ones," he said in his own defense. "But I thought that there goat one was in Main Detention."
"Heis," the other said, and explained patiently; "what there is, though, Bill, there's somethinks they're the ones that thinks they're animals! It's in their heads