Andrea Mantegna St George

Andrea Mantegna St GeorgeThomas Moran Zion Valley, South UtahThomas Moran The Wilds of Lake Superior
'They've pickled another king,' said Mort. He examined the glass again in the moonlight. It was quite plain, not the sort normally associated with royalty.
That can't come to take,' said Ysabell loudly. 'Who is it, then?'
Mort turned towards the dark entrance. It wouldn't be sealed until dawn, to give time for the dead king's soul to leave. It looked deep and foreboding, hinting at purposes considerably more dire than, say, keeping a razor blade nice and sharp.
'Let's find out,' he said.

'Look out! He's coming back!'be him,' said Ysabell. They don't pickle them when they're still alive, do they?''I hope not, because I read where, before they do the preserving, they, um, cut them open and remove —''I don't want to hear it —''— all the soft bits,' Mort concluded lamely. 'It's just as well the pickling doesn't work, really, just imagine having to walk around with no —''So it isn't the king you've