Jean Francois Millet Harvesters Resting

Jean Francois Millet Harvesters RestingJean Francois Millet GardenHerbert James Draper Ulysses and the SirensHerbert James Draper LamiaHerbert James Draper Lament for Icarus
'Grodley,' said Nanny Ogg. 'Sticks her little finger out when she drinks her tea and drops her Haitches all the time.'
'Yes. Hwell. I haven't hlowered myself to talk to her hever since that business with the gibbet, you recall. I daresay she'd just love to come snooping haround here, running her fingers over heverything and sniffing, telling us how to do things. Oh. yes. Help. We'd all be in a fine to-do if we went around helping all the time.'
'Yes, and and rivalry. There were differences in style, of course. Wizards assassinated each other in draughty corridors, witches just cut one another dead in the street. And they were all as self-centred as a spinning top. Even when they help other people, she thought, they're secretly doing it for themselves. Honestly, they're just like big children.
Except for me, she thought smugly.over Skund way the trees talk to you and walk around of night,' said Nanny. 'Without even asking permission. Very poor organisation.''Not really good organisation, like we've got here?' said Magrat.Granny stood up purposefully.'I'm going home,' she said.There are thousands of good reasons why magic doesn't rule the world. They're called witches and wizards. Magrat reflected, as she followed the other two back to the road.It was probably some wonderful organisation on the part of Nature to protect itself. It saw to it that everyone with any magical talent was about as ready to co-operate as a she-bear with toothache, so all that dangerous power was safely dissipated as random bickering