Frederic Edwin Church Cotopaxi

Frederic Edwin Church CotopaxiGeorge Frederick Watts Watts HopeAlbert Bierstadt In the Mountains
some hasn't. Hers hadn't.
When he wasn't out on what Death referred to as THE DUTY Mort assisted Albert, or found jobs or stable, or , marking the place and counting the extra lines, and estimated that some books were adding paragraphs at the rate of four or five every day. He didn't
And finally he plucked up his courage.
A WHAT? said Death in astonishment, sitting behind his ornate desk and turning his scythe-shaped paperknife over and over in his hands.
'An afternoon off,' repeated Mort. The room suddenly seemed to be obrowsed through Death's extensive library, reading with the speed and omnivorousness common to those who discover the magic of the written word for the first time.Most of the books in the library were biographies, of course.They were unusual in one respect. They were writing themselves. People who had already died, obviously, filled their books from cover to cover, and those who hadn't been born yet had to put up with blank pages. Those in between . . . Mort took noteppressively big, with