Nel Mecklenburgo,. Albero e omino sono portati a casa del sindaco, dove rimangono fin dopo la vendemmia. Ackerman, Robert. His life and Work. Beard, Robert W. Antologia della letteratura fantastica. Clemente, Pietro, ed. James G. La ricerca folklorica 10, Crawford, Robert. Dei, Fabio. La discesa agli inferi. Frazer e la cultura del Novecento. Fraser, Robert. Fraser, Robert, ed. Sir James Fraser and the Literary Imagination.
Frazer, James George.
Studio sulla magia e la religione. Frye, Northrop. Anatomia della critica. Muir, John. However, the loss of effect of Bv8 observed in our PROKR 1 KO mice suggests that PROKR 1 is the main receptor involved in modulating immune responses, which is in line with our previous findings indicating that it is exclusively responsible for mediating the modulation of macrophage cytokine production [ 19 ].
Moreover, considering the high expression of this receptor on cells of the myeloid lineage, it can be hypothesized that the Bv8 immune effects are due to the activation of this population, rather than to a direct effect on T lymphocytes. This aspect will be evaluated in future work. Bv8 is highly expressed in mouse and human immune cells, and has been reported in mouse and human monocytes, macrophages, granulocytes, spleen and bone marrow [ 7 , 18 , 19 ].
Furthermore, prokineticins are significantly overexpressed in inflamed tissues and, in line with this, it has been found that Bv8, PROK and their receptors are all involved in inflammatory processes and mediate inflammatory pain [ 10 , 11 ]. It has very recently been shown that the implantation of tumour cells in mice upregulates Bv8 in serum, bone marrow and spleen myeloid cells, and that G-CSF is a positive major regulator of Bv8 expression [ 5 ].
It can be hypothesised that the Bv8 produced by myeloid cells under these different conditions acts as a cytokine on T cell functions. A disrupted balance of pro- and anti-inflammatory cytokine production, and alterations in the induction of the different T cell populations, are involved in the development of various immune diseases [ 25 , 33 , 34 ], and so the effects of Bv8 on different types of T cell may play a broad pathophysiological role.
Various activities have been associated with Bv8 signalling, and this family of proteins is emerging as an important new modulator of immune responses. We show that Bv8 plays a specialised role in modulating T cell cytokine production as it significantly reduces IL-4 and IL We thank Dr. This article is published under license to BioMed Central Ltd. Skip to main content Skip to sections. Advertisement Hide. Download PDF. The prokineticin receptor agonist Bv8 decreases IL and IL-4 production in mice splenocytes by activating prokineticin receptor Open Access. First Online: 28 October Background Bv8, prokineticin-1, or endocrine gland-vascular endothelial growth factor, and prokineticin-2 are recently isolated peptide agonists of two G protein-coupled receptors, prokineticin receptor-1 PROKR 1 and PROKR 2, and have been described as affecting a number of myeloid cell functions.
This process is experimental and the keywords may be updated as the learning algorithm improves. Background The small amino acid protein Bv8 belongs to a novel family of secreted proteins [ 1 ], and was given its name to indicate its origin the frog Bombina variegata and molecular weight 8 kD. WT littermates were used as controls. Collection of splenocytes, and the production of concanavalin-A Con-A -induced cytokines The spleens of the animals were aseptically removed, and gauge sterile needles were used to tease the cells through an incision made in the spleen cuticle [ 27 , 28 ].
KLH immunisation The mice were injected intraperitoneally i. The 4-hour interval between Bv8 administration and spleen harvesting was chosen on the basis of previously published data concerning the pharmacodynamics and pharmacokinetics of Bv8, which show that it modulates a number of biological functions at this time [ 10 , 29 ] The control animals were immunised with KLH and treated with saline instead of Bv8 at the same times. Open image in new window. Figure 1 PROK receptors. The increase was clear at Bv8 concentrations of 10 , 10 -9 and 10 -7 M, but the lowest concentration of 10 was not effective.
Figure 2 IL-1 production. However, as shown in panel C, the in vitro addition of Bv8 significantly reduced Con-A induced IL production at concentrations of 10 , 10 -9 and 10 -7 M. Figure 3 In vitro Bv8. In order to check the in vivo ability of Bv8 to modulate cytokine levels, it was injected s. The results were similar to those observed when Bv8 was added in vitro. Figure 5 In vivo Bv8. Similarly, IL-4 production also decreased after Bv8 administration at either time Fig.
Acknowledgements We thank Dr. Eur J Pharmacol. Febs Lett. CrossRef Google Scholar. Mol Pharmacol. PubMed Google Scholar. Eur J Neurosci. Proc Natl Acad Sci. Biochem Biophys Res Commun. His heart would break, for he could not see any improvement. He would cook for her, talk to her, he cared for her hands and feet, and he would tell her about what was happening in school, but she would rarely answer, and when she did, only in monosyllables. He would then go in the bathroom, turn on the faucet and cry his heart out, hitting his head with all his strength, crying rivers of steaming tears into the basin, clutching his heart because of the pain.
She is completely mad. I met her yesterday and took her home.
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He tried to change the topic: Do you want to go to the beach with us? Do you remember the last time, when she fled at night and we found her on the bridge? Who gets to the square first decides the punishment! Markus looked at him straight in the eyes and said: Let us through, I have to go to the store! Piero did not move. The left window of the car was lowered and a voice screamed from inside: Giovanni grabbed his bike and started pedaling towards the descent. But he did not need to; he already knew it was a heavy person with white withered skin, with his head dripping with sweat and black sun glasses perennially resting on his forehead.
Not because of you. Ughino got off his tricycle and said: He enjoyed watching the women in and out of the store, chatting, with bags filled with heads of lettuce and loaves of bread. Those images were engraved in his mind since he was small, even though they were not keepsakes from his own land. He only remembered a lot of confusion and the icy cold of the huge supermarket in the city where he was born. The younger told the oldest: You see how nice and polite he is? Despite all the bad things that happened to him Just yesterday, I found his mother at my front door. She had finished the wine.
Once in a while she comes over to my house too. But what should I do? I would feel like I did Ughino wrong. But now we have to do something. And we can take turns caring for the boy.
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How much trouble can that polite boy be? I know he takes care of all the housework, he could even help me! He wanted to tell those women that if they really loved Ughino, the last thing to do was to separate him from his mother. He had to find a solution. Meanwhile, Ughino had left the store and was loading the bags on the cart. When they were alone again on the road, Ughino continued: Tell me about your idea.
But we know nothing about him; he has been living there by himself for years, since he first came to the area! But they call him Doctor Draconis, and I heard that he was a doctor. He may be able to help me. How did you come to think of him? Maybe because I heard he was a doctor, and maybe because nobody can help mom.
What do you say? Would you go see him with me, and ask for his advice? Are you aware of what everybody around here says about him? There is just one thing She is a friend of mine and you can trust her. Let me know when you intend to go. I have to go home now. Markus was happy to see him like that, even if deep inside he was doubtful of the decision he had made.
He lived with his cat, Bastet, in a decrepit house, lost in a small wooded area between the villages of Sugano and Orvieto. Nobody knew what he did all-day, but if you walked along the house you could nearly always hear the sound of a clarinet, which — from the windows up high — would meander up to the top of leafy trees. It was not a pretty house and it certainly did not bring a smile to the people passing by.
The window shutters were hanging down like the eyebrows of sad eyes.
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The outside walls served as a perennial bed to the gigantic climbing vegetation and even the main front door was so misshapen that it appeared to be grinning with contempt and grief. In winter, he would always wear a long, black overcoat and a large hat with brims curved towards the bottom, while in summer, he would dress entirely in white.
Shirt and pants were so big that his thin, tall figure would appear ghostly. His face was thin and sunken under his cheek bones and his eyes were set deep and overshadowed by his sockets, blocked and hidden from any observer. His hair was long and smooth, down to his shoulders, by now partially grey, even though the age of the doctor was a mystery.
When he would go to the village, he would speak to people in a very polite manner, often speaking in a polished style, not characteristic of that area. His speech was concise, just what was necessary and no more. Under no circumstances he had appeared hesitant when starting a conversation with unknown people. He was heard talking in public only once. It was when, at the market, a mother was screaming to her son, who apparently had stolen a pen from a man who sold stationary.
The woman hit him on the back, as she was screaming: I am hitting you also for having lied, for saying you did not steal that pen! Hermes was the one who told him to lie. And who is this Er When they found out, the young Hermes denied it repeatedly; he lied with strength and courage to the God who was accusing him. Faced by such impertinence, Apollo started to laugh and forgave him. Children must lie, Hermes tells them to. When he would leave the house to do some shopping, he would walk on foot through the wooded area, dragging behind him a small four-wheel wooden cart on which he would load his supplies.
The title of doctor had been given to him by the inhabitants of the village, as it looked like in the past he had practiced medicine. No one knew, however, what kind of medicine, nor if he ever had taken care of, or healed anybody. The elderly ladies were very suspicious and if they happened to meet him, they preferred to go another way.
BBC NEWS | Europe | Italian doctor who fooled Nazis
Talk had it that he did not have any children and that he had moved to his house a long time before, following the untimely death of his young wife, whom, as a doctor, he apparently had not been able to save… Since then, he had been a recluse in his own house, a house where the only sound was that coming from his sad clarinet. Doctor Draconis lived in that area in great privacy and this had created stories, testimonies and fairy tales about him.
One of the stories about Draconis around San Quirico was that while he was travelling around the world looking for answers to his questions, young Doctor Draconis met and fell in love with Suseri, a Japanese girl. Once, unbeknown to him- he hid a poisonous spider in the pocket of a jacket hanging in the closet. The spider bit her and she fell on the ground, where she died after a few minutes. When Draconis returned home, he found her on the ground and tried to save her, unsuccessfully. Word has it, that the grief was of such magnitude that the doctor from that day onward became a loner.
The inhabitants of Porano had an addition to the story: Draconis would communicate with the spirit of the young Suseri through the sound of the clarinet. Someone also said he had seen him at night go down the well in front of his house and come out only in the morning. No one could tell if the stories were true or born from the imagination of the people. The truth of the matter is that Draconis was, by then, an integral part of that environment, just like the woods, the houses, the vineyards and the vegetable gardens. That afternoon he was going with him to the Orvieto library to pick up some books Josh had ordered the week before.
He climbed on the seat of the jeep that was already in motion and they took off on the white road leading to the highway. Markus had an open and sincere rapport with his father and often shared his interests leafing through his papers, articles and books. When the family moved to Italy, through the whole delicate moving phase, Josh had been very close to his son, trying his best to offer him a strong and firm support at a time of great uncertainty.
As they were getting onto the highway, they met Ughino who was entering the road, going towards the Allen residence on his delivery tricycle. I have to ask Ughino something.
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I will be right back. I can come by around six. Be at my house at six. Markus was lost in thought. I often think about him and I am tempted to go visit him to write an article. But Mary discourages me all the time On the other hand, not even Melampus was aware he was one! He was the first mortal granted divine powers by the gods. You know I love it when you tell me mythic stories! It was as if there was a universal mould for every occasion. Wait; let me think about the story He would understand the language of birds and insects because it seemed that two serpents, grateful for a favor, licked his ears.
The man had been sick since he was a young boy, ever since he had witnessed the sacrifice of two rams by his father, when he saw him walking holding a knife covered with blood. That sight made Ificlus sick, but no one understood that, with the exception of the two birds of prey that witnessed the fact. He ran to get the old knife that was still stuck in the trunk of a tree and made Ificlus drink the rust formed by the blood of the ram, dissolved in a little water. Somehow, he had to get rid of that terrible image from his childhood, and perhaps the blood of the ram reminded him of that.
And what does Melampus have to do with Draconis? It was just to show you that Melampus was a doctor without knowing it. They got out of the car and started walking towards the escalators that were climbing inside the hill like a worm making its way upwards inside an apple.
All around, they were surrounded by the tuff walls of the gallery, the color of toasted hazelnuts. The gallery was a steep climb, until it exited near Piazza Raineri. When they got off the escalators, the two turned to the right towards via Loggia dei Mercanti and when they stopped in front of the Piccolomini Hotel, they had to flatten against the wall to make room for a car with a powerful engine that was coming down the alleyway. Markus was familiar with that car. I am happy to see you. And since city hall gave us the license, it would be very useful if you could write an article for your American editors.
And the tourists would be very happy to know that here they could find the same food they eat in their own country! His small eyes hidden by the fat of his cheeks and his nose, flat above his swollen lips, made him truly grotesque.
They said goodbye and as soon as the car was gone, Markus vented his disappointment: You even promised him you would write him an article? But I did not tell him what I will write in the article! As they were paying for their snack, Josh heard someone calling him: Come sit with us for a little while!
I find you very well. Looking towards the display case of the news vendor, Markus said: He said he is going to be at my house at six. We'll go there together. He motioned Markus who was approaching them. Then Angela turned to her mother saying: I will see you later, at home. Matilde used to go to the cemetery every week. She would clean and shine up the marble slab that had been guarding the memory of Anselmo, hear husband, for over ten years. To her, that visit was a pleasurable break from her daily monotony and after having taken care of the flowers, changed the water and washed the marble, she would sit on the stool she brought from home, and chat peacefully with Anselmo's smiling picture.
At the village, nothing new, except the seasonal tourists are coming and at least there is someone on the road. Fausto and Teresa are here too, and they say hello. I have always taken care of them you know, just like you used to do, and I remembered that in November you prune only the stems that didn't bloom during the season, leaving only the flowers dry on the other stems. Next spring you will have hydrangeas as large as watermelons! The lavender bush has grown a lot too. This time though, I am going to take all the branches off and make them into scented laundry baskets like my mother used to do when she was alive.
She told me that after the summer, Giovanna and she are going to city hall to convince them to put Paola Stoppa, that poor soul, in an institution, while Ughino is taken care of. Life was unkind to her since her birth, but now Ughino needs a normal life with a normal family. He needs someone to take care of him. This is another one of her lunacies: Did you know she comes on foot from Sugano?
She never takes the bus and the road is very long! She was holding a bunch of small wild flowers she had likely picked up along the way and from time to time, she would put one in the vases of the loculus. What are you saying? We give her wine, anytime she wants it! In the meantime, Paola seemed happy with her visit and she started moving towards the exit of the cemetery, lazily dragging her feet on the stone pavement. When she reached the large entrance gate, she turned towards the tombs one more time and observed them, turning her head from right to left in a collegiate greeting and exited towards the road.
From the back seat, Angela pointed to the woman and said: He then stopped in an open space. Markus got out of the car and moved towards the woman. Then, running, he caught up with her. After they left, Josh asked: Do you have someone there? Markus helped the woman get out of the car and accompanied her inside. On the way home, Josh — deep in thoughts — could only say: He was trying to shoot a basketball, but he was probably too short for that. He waved cheerfully to all of them and Josh stopped the jeep.
I am going in, have fun and Ughino placed the ball on the ground, tucked his shirt inside his pants and said: As soon as they reached the highway, they crossed it, entering an alley in the front that ran along the perimeter of a thicket. The other side of the road was delimited by grassy fields that sloped along the side of the hill; the grass was very tall and, for the most part, dry.
We have to leave our bicycles next to the large oak tree. Then, they had left, for they thought they heard some steps coming down the stairs. Markus remembered that day well, because it was very cold and on the way back home it had started to rain cats and dogs. They arrived in the vicinity of the turn to the inside of the wooded area. The pair on the tricycle was moving slower and at every pothole Ughino would jump really high, almost falling to the ground.
She was standing by the road, looking in the direction of a tree. We almost hit you! She turned towards them, her mouth open and in disbelief, pointing to the tree. It was standing still in the middle of the road and would not move Then it opened his mouth and I thought it was about to speak! It had an acorn in its paw and Then it retreated to the tree Markus bent down and grabbed an acorn in his hand. Suddenly acorns began to pour from the tree, hitting the children from up high, nonstop, as a thick hailstorm.
As they stopped, Angela slid on the leaves and fell right next to the trunk of the big chestnut tree.