Juan Gris Pears and Grapes on a Table

Juan Gris Pears and Grapes on a TableJuan Gris Guitar with ClarinetJuan Gris Guitar on a TableJuan Gris Guitar and Music PapeJuan Gris Fantomas Pipe and Newspaper
tavern,' said Tomjon. 'I've heard about them. There's to see a troll tavern.'
They're for trolls only, boy. Molten lava to drink and rock music and cheese 'n' chutney flavoured pebbles.'
'What approved. For some reason his fellow expatriates, who at home did nothing more objectionable than mine a bit of iron ore and hunt small creatures, felt impelled, once in the big city, to wear chain mail underwear, go around with axes in their belts, and call themselves names like Timkin Rumbleguts. And no-one could beat a city dwarf when it came to quaffing. Sometimes they missed their mouths altogether.
'Anyway,' he added, 'you'd get thrown out for being too creative. The actual words are, "Gold, gold, gold, gold, gold, gold".'
'Is there a chorus?'about dwarf bars?''You'd hate it,' said Hwel, fervently. 'Besides, you'd run out of headroom.''Low dives, are they?''Look at it like this – how long do you think you could sing about gold?'' "It's yellow and it goes chink and you can buy things with it," ' said Tomjon experimentally, as they strolled through the crowds on the Plaza of Broken Moons. 'Four seconds, I think.''Right. Five hours of it gets a bit repetitive.' Hwel kicked a pebble gloomily. He'd investigated a few dwarf bars last time they were in town, and hadn't