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Avon The Story Of William Shakespeare Pdf, Read Online Bard Of Avon The Story There are a lot of books, literatures, user manuals, and guidebooks that are. (Avon Camelot Books) (An Avon Camelot Book) By Lila Perl, Marion Blumenthal Lazan pdf download. Four Perfect Pebbles: A Holocaust Story. From through the third quarter of, Avon's books and records failed to Avon Products China provided cash and things ofvalue, including gifts, travel.

They're not frightened of being wrong. I don't mean to say that being wrong is the same thing as being creative. What we do know is, if you're not prepared to be wrong, you'll never come up with anything original — if you're not prepared to be wrong. And by the time they get to be adults, most kids have lost that capacity. They have become frightened of being wrong. And we run our companies like this. We stigmatize mistakes. And we're now running national education systems where mistakes are the worst thing you can make.

And the result is that we are educating people out of their creative capacities. Picasso once said this, he said that all children are born artists. The problem is to remain an artist as we grow up. I believe this passionately, that we don't grow into creativity, we grow out of it. Or rather, we get educated out of it. So why is this? I lived in Stratford-on-Avon until about five years ago.

In fact, we moved from Stratford to Los Angeles. So you can imagine what a seamless transition this was.


Laughter Actually, we lived in a place called Snitterfield, just outside Stratford, which is where Shakespeare's father was born. Are you struck by a new thought? I was. You don't think of Shakespeare having a father, do you?

Do you? Because you don't think of Shakespeare being a child, do you? Shakespeare being seven? I never thought of it. I mean, he was seven at some point.

He was in somebody's English class, wasn't he? Laughter How annoying would that be? Laughter "Must try harder. Actually, my son didn't want to come. I've got two kids; he's 21 now, my daughter's He didn't want to come to Los Angeles.

He loved it, but he had a girlfriend in England. This was the love of his life, Sarah. He'd known her for a month. Laughter Mind you, they'd had their fourth anniversary, because it's a long time when you're He was really upset on the plane.

He said, "I'll never find another girl like Sarah. Laughter But something strikes you when you move to America and travel around the world: every education system on earth has the same hierarchy of subjects. Every one. Doesn't matter where you go. You'd think it would be otherwise, but it isn't. At the top are mathematics and languages, then the humanities.

At the bottom are the arts. Everywhere on earth. And in pretty much every system, too, there's a hierarchy within the arts. Art and music are normally given a higher status in schools than drama and dance. There isn't an education system on the planet that teaches dance every day to children the way we teach them mathematics. Why not? I think this is rather important. I think math is very important, but so is dance.

Children dance all the time if they're allowed to, we all do. We all have bodies, don't we? Did I miss a meeting? Laughter Truthfully, what happens is, as children grow up, we start to educate them progressively from the waist up. And then we focus on their heads. And slightly to one side. If you were to visit education as an alien and say "What's it for, public education? Isn't it? They're the people who come out the top.

And I used to be one, so there. Laughter And I like university professors, but, you know, we shouldn't hold them up as the high-water mark of all human achievement. They're just a form of life.

Another form of life. But they're rather curious.

And I say this out of affection for them: there's something curious about professors. In my experience — not all of them, but typically — they live in their heads.

They live up there and slightly to one side. They're disembodied, you know, in a kind of literal way. They look upon their body as a form of transport for their heads. Laughter Don't they? It's a way of getting their head to meetings. Laughter If you want real evidence of out-of-body experiences, by the way, get yourself along to a residential conference of senior academics and pop into the discotheque on the final night.

Laughter And there, you will see it. Grown men and women writhing uncontrollably, off the beat. Laughter Waiting until it ends, so they can go home and write a paper about it.

Laughter Our education system is predicated on the idea of academic ability. And there's a reason. Around the world, there were no public systems of education, really, before the 19th century.

They all came into being to meet the needs of industrialism. So the hierarchy is rooted on two ideas. Number one, that the most useful subjects for work are at the top. So you were probably steered benignly away from things at school when you were a kid, things you liked, on the grounds you would never get a job doing that. Is that right? The whole world is engulfed in a revolution.

And the second is academic ability, which has really come to dominate our view of intelligence, because the universities design the system in their image. If you think of it, the whole system of public education around the world is a protracted process of university entrance.

And the consequence is that many highly talented, brilliant, creative people think they're not, because the thing they were good at at school wasn't valued, or was actually stigmatized. And I think we can't afford to go on that way. In the next 30 years, according to UNESCO, more people worldwide will be graduating through education than since the beginning of history. More people. And it's the combination of all the things we've talked about: technology and its transformational effect on work, and demography and the huge explosion in population.

Suddenly, degrees aren't worth anything. Isn't that true? When I was a student, if you had a degree, you had a job. He picked up the poker and, resisting the urge to smash something with it, stirred the peat embers in the hearth.

I could hire a solicitor, but there must be a better way to get the damn deed back. Matt agreed. We do exactly as she wishes. Forgot myself. Matt reached for his tobacco on the mantel and began filling his pipe. Colin wondered irritably when his brother had turned so pokey, or did marriage do that to a man?

Few gainsay her. She is the power behind our humble little society. Until she came along, we were a bit of a boring lot. Of course, Mrs. Lovejoyce and her friends would like to dethrone her, but Lady Loftus adores her.

For right now, Lady Rosalyn is in control of who does what and when. Not with the parish duties and the children giving me more to think about than flower beds and dances. However, the wives are content, and that is often all that matters. Matt and I have had to fight and scrape for everything we have. She lowered the sleeping baby into her cradle.

Colin rolled his eyes. What was it with women? They believed everything poets scribbled. Val caught his look. She stood with an impatient sound. Love is a valued commodity and one Christ taught. A lack of love was not his problem— but Val shushed him with a wave of her hand.

Val ignored him. She confided that to me once herself. He knew how important home was, and he hated the fact that he was a soft touch for such a story. He forced himself to be hard. The house was his. Woodford will take care of her. Give her the house? Lose all my money and ignore my dreams?

If I saw something that was wrong, I corrected it. Wellington trusted me and used me well, but in the end, even he said I was my own worst enemy. I think well of you, Colin, for having courage and honesty. There was a time everyone feared you would have a noose around your neck. Colin felt a touch of betrayal. From the moment Matt had met her, she had come between the two brothers.

His helpmate. The mother of his children and his partner. And what of their parents? When they were alive, did they think more of her than their youngest son, who had been a trial? She walked up to him and straightened the knot in his neck cloth. She gave Colin a sisterly pat on the shoulder and returned to her chair, picking up her darning.

There was that word again— love. I thought he would have broken his neck over a fence years ago. Lady Loftus is so wrapped up in Valley routs and affairs she rarely nags him to take her to London anymore. He and Lady Loftus have sponsored Lady Rosalyn from the beginning.

If anyone can negotiate a sensible arrangement to your dilemma, it is Loftus. He has returned from the military. In contrast with his older brother, Thomas had a bit of the devil in him, and Colin was again reminded of himself in his youth. He noticed they smelled a bit like unwashed potatoes and spring air. Val shushed them. There will be plenty of time for questions later. Colin, you are welcome to stay with us as long as you wish.

There must be a solution. Lord Loftus always calls us by the color of our hair. You look like a pirate rogue.

And do you have a clean shirt? Colin turned to his brother. Matthew rode a nag that was half lame. Rain was in the air. He was exhausted and at this point running on sheer willpower. He wanted Maiden Hill, and he wanted to stake his claim now. He knew the Valley. It was a close, opinionated community. Too long, he realized heavily. Colin asked after their parents, who had passed away from an epidemic some five years ago.

You know neither one of them would be happy without the other. His parents had worshiped each other. There is no way you could have been present. In fact, the parish is fortunate we lost so few to that fever. He could have come. His excuses seemed insignificant now. I mean, Father Ruley had plans for him.

He said Father could have done anything he wanted. Instead, because he married Mother, he had to settle on being a cobbler. He loved Mother very much.

Matt laughed. I wish you could have seen the look on your face. Of course, I agree with her, although I never thought of myself as a romantic. However, you are right. I am more ambitious. I plan on marrying for all the oldfashioned reasons—wealth and connections. They titled lesser men than me, Matt. Before Colin could respond, the sound of hounds barking and the blare of a hunting horn interrupted them.

War-trained senses alert, Oscar stopped dead in the road, picking up his ears. A beat later, a red fox charged through the thicket out onto the road in front of the horses. He paused, one foot poised in the air, seeming to look right at Colin.

It was a defining moment. Life was sometimes like that, moments when Colin felt a connection. Experience had taught him to be aware of these moments, and right now, he felt incredible sympathy for the hunted. The howling of the hounds grew louder. A blink later, a pack of brown and white hunting hounds rushed the thicket, some jumping over it, some attempting to squeeze though impossibly tight spaces.

Their tongues were hanging out of the sides of their mouths, and their eyes shone with the enjoyment of the chase. Oscar stood his ground with relish. As the dogs moved toward him, he arched his neck and pawed the ground, warning them to beware.

Move on, move on. One came too close, and Oscar kicked out, sending the dog tumbling. The horse faltered and then righted himself. Tufts of gray hair stood out over his ears under his hat, and his face was red with exertion.

As his wild-eyed horse circled, he caught sight of Colin and Matt. Could have jumped on you. I see you still enjoy the hunt. I had to return.

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He ran through here somewhere. Look at the demmed dogs. Running around in circles. Way up yonder. Not even close? He pulled his hat off his head and beat it against his thighs at the dogs. They sat on their haunches and waited for his tantrum to subside, which it did, as abruptly as it had come.

Loftus smashed the hat back on his head and turned to Colin. But I will catch him. One of these days. Where are you gentlemen off to? I want to hear all about it. Heard of your exploits.

Made the Valley proud! Come along, come along. The dogs fell in behind him. Colin flashed Matt a smile. Stable lads came running up to collect dogs and horses.

Here he is now! A war hero! Fetch us some hot toddies, and double the whiskey. Is my lady at home? Right where I want her. She likes the Reverend and will want to see our war hero. Hop to, man. Double the whiskey! Delivered it without spilling a drop. The butler bowed to attend his duties, leaving Matt and Colin to follow their host. Lady Loftus came out into the hall. She was a petite woman, well rounded and matronly, with sparkling blue eyes and rosy cheeks. Know everything you did against the French.

Proud of you, we are. And then Colin understood her quandary. He looked past his hosts to inside the room. There, rising from a chair in front of a tray of biscuits and cakes where she and Lady Loftus had apparently been having a cozy chat, was Lady Rosalyn, her expression pinched and guarded.

She was no happier to see Colin than he was to see her. Chapter Three Rosalyn rose slowly to her feet, uncertain if she was ready to confront her new nemesis, Colonel Mandland. She wrapped her arms protectively around it, and the air between them crackled with the same energy that heralded a storm.

His eyes met hers. She knew he would stop at nothing to get what was his. He was that sort of man.

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Lord and Lady Loftus were going through the niceties of introductions. They were such dear friends. Course you do. This is his brother. Colonel Mandland. War hero! Made us all proud in the Valley. Colonel, Lady Rosalyn tells us when to sit down and when to stand up.

A prime filly. Put her in my stable! This time was different. He was laughing—at her. If he thought he could toy with her, he was wrong. She had rank in this room. Tightening her hold on the leather folder, she dared to speak up. He glanced at his wife, who already knew some of the story and hovered worriedly nearby. My wife has always warned me to not take advantage of your good humor. You know I admire you. His forward comments grated her nerves to no end.

Her most reassuring smile plastered on her face, she started for the door. Rosalyn pulled up short, a beat away from running into his chest. She attempted to sidestep him. He followed, either because he was unafraid of challenging her in public or because he possessed the manners of a bull. She gripped the leather folder with both hands. You are attempting to steal my house from me. I bought the house in good faith from your cousin, who owned it.

She had to look up to challenge him. How do we know this deed is not a forgery? For a second, his brow darkened, and his mouth opened and shut as if words failed him. His brother cautioned. Or at least, in the way you mean it?

Any more than I am accepting your taking my house. He sounds like a schoolchild. A child? But instead of bluster and outrage, a deadly calm enveloped Colonel Mandland, his expression so grim, his manner so tense, that her knees began to tremble.

Perhaps she had gone too far. The colonel raised a hand, effectively cutting off any other words that might be said. She has in her possession a deed proving her cousin, Lord Woodford, sold Maiden Hill and all of its furnishings to me. Anger and humiliation made speech difficult. The same code of honor that had guided her father now led her.

She would not lie. My cousin George sold the house. Maiden Hill has been her home since her marriage. We need you! After years of being alone, the people in the Valley had become her family.

I want to live there. Certainly, he would champion her. His lordship walked over to the window, where the light was better, and took the deed out. Lives just beyond the way. Should be here in a thrice. Shellsworth will know what to do. Her stomach had suddenly tied up in knots.

Her eyes widened as if she had been struck by a sudden, enlightening thought. Lady Loftus ignored her. Maiden Hill is such a lovely estate for a family.

Rosalyn wondered if her dear friend was abandoning her to Cornwall. The colonel frowned at having his attention diverted from Lord Loftus, who now moved his lips as he attempted to read over sections of the deed. You know what a matchmaker Val is, my lady. Rosalyn felt a headache forming behind her eyes. Any woman who would consider marrying such a boorish brute as Colonel Mandland had to be either desperate or so old and haggard no one else would want her… Her evil thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of Mr.

Shellsworth minced his way into the room. He was a thin, petite man with fastidious manners. Rosalyn could easily picture him in the powdered wig, lace, and heeled shoes of days of yore. Since that was not the fashion, he doted on wearing bright colors, as seen in his bright yellow waistcoat and spruce green jacket and trousers. He liked the starched points of his shirt collar to brush his cheeks. When Rosalyn first moved to Maiden Hill, Mr. Rosalyn had been relieved. She could barely abide his pretentiousness, and she was not alone.

He was not well liked in the Valley. Full of his self-importance, Mr.

Shellsworth practically clicked his heels as he presented himself. He did not acknowledge Reverend Mandland or his brother. They were obviously beneath his notice. Shellsworth said. He and Lord Loftus often hunted together. Lord Loftus held out the deed with distaste. He was not pleased. Rosalyn braced herself. A show of his temper would work in her favor, but his brother touched him lightly on the arm, a signal for patience.

Shellsworth is considering the deed, may I have a private moment with you? Rosalyn ignored their whisperings and concentrated on Mr. Not as well written as I would have done, but legal in every respect. Lord Woodford had the power to sell Maiden Hill. It was not entailed. Rosalyn was glad she had never had any inclination toward such a supercilious man.

Even his hands were small… with stubby fingers. A shiver went through her. But the worst part was, she was going to have to admit defeat to Colonel Mandland, a person she disliked more than the lawyer. Shellsworth hopped to his feet. Rosalyn bit back a whimper. She hated losing control of those papers.

The moment she was alone with Lady Loftus, she collapsed on the settee. The tray of hot toddies was close by, tempting her to drown her sorrows. One that will make everyone happy. Everything will be fine. He was tired and ready to be done with it all. His lordship led them into a study lined with prints of prized hounds and horses. In one corner, there was even a stuffed hunt hound. Loftus noticed Colin looking at it. Best hunt dog I ever had. Smarter than the fox.

Every time. Here, sit down. The smug fop of a lawyer was the first to take his seat. At last, he had what was his. He settled in a chair his brother had pulled up for him. Loftus propped his elbow on top of his desk. Colin was fairly certain little work was ever performed in this room.


He had his deed. It was all he wanted. The rest were mere formalities. We do not suit. I deeply appreciate your help in seeing this deed returned to me. However, with all due respect, I must leave now. With your permission, my lord? He looked to Matt. He may be the youngest, but he has always been stubborn. Colin choked on a response. Loftus slapped his hand on his desk.

The two of you marry and everyone is happy. Should be easy for a handsome buck like you. All her parts in the right places. Oh, I admit she has to have her lead but, again, you should be able to bring her to heel.

He took a backward step toward the door. He was not going to be bullied into marrying Lady Rosalyn. He opened the door. He looked to Colin.

Everyone knew he would choose the winner. He slammed both hands on the desk. We hunt together. Loftus shook his head. A war hero. He can represent my interests in the Commons as well as you could.

Maybe better. And, if Lady Rosalyn is his wife, he will have a suitable hostess to entertain in London. So, what do you say, Mandland? Are you interested in a seat in the Commons? He leaned across his desk. Colin looked to his brother. Matt raised his eyebrows, letting him know this was his decision alone.

Someone must take care of her. Before Lady Rosalyn arrived, my lady was always after me to return to London. She hated the country. Dragged me back to Town every chance she could and made me miserable between times.

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I want my wife happy. Besides, you will represent me well in the Commons. You know your place. You understand how the world works. In fact, marriage to Lady Rosalyn was suddenly sounding like a capital idea.

He should be able to work his way around her prickliness. His lordship clapped his hands together. In its place was the shadow of a vindictive temper. He also knew without a doubt Lady Rosalyn would not like being compared to a horse. Nor did he think she would be overjoyed at knowing they had been planning her future. I have no control over her acceptance, and I will still want the seat. Perk up, Mandland, she wants Maiden Hill. Come along now.

Let us return to the ladies. In fact, until death you do part. Chapter Four Rosalyn stood the moment she heard the gentlemen outside in the hall. Lady Loftus rose with her. Rosalyn held out her hand, and her dear friend gave it a squeeze. Rosalyn prayed she was right.

Lord Loftus was the first through the sitting room door. His smile was full of confidence, and the moment his eyes landed on his wife, he gave her a nod. Lady Loftus released her breath with a sigh of relief. Then the Mandland brothers entered the room. Reverend Mandland appeared gravely concerned. She looked to the colonel. He was smiling. Her one hope was that Mr.

Shellsworth still had it.

The slam of the front door broke the silence. He gave a dismissive wave. Should we talk to him? The lawyer would not have left if he had the deed. She had lost. Lord Loftus looked to the colonel. However, having lived most of her life swallowing the will of others, Rosalyn understood immediately. The colonel was being pushed, and he was not a man who liked being pushed. Lady Loftus let go of her hand and moved to stand beside her husband, leaving Rosalyn alone to face Colonel Mandland.

There was a beat of silence. We both lose something. I lose goodwill; you lose your home. The thought of leaving the sweet haven of the Ribble valley almost broke her. Her throat ached as she forced back disappointment. She was a Wellborne.But the worst part was, she was going to have to admit defeat to Colonel Mandland, a person she disliked more than the lawyer.

He was a thin, petite man with fastidious manners. Cook was in the kitchen and Bridget, the maid, was upstairs gathering the laundry. He and Lady Loftus have sponsored Lady Rosalyn from the beginning. She had no idea what all was up there.

It's thicker in women. We stigmatize mistakes. Instead, because he married Mother, he had to settle on being a cobbler. Unfortunately, she had time to lock or bar all the doors to the house. I sense you hold the same belief.