She left the easel in disgust and refused to touch it again for a week.
Her easel was there, and her half-rubbed out drawing—No, that was not her drawing.
She asked to see it, and I wheeled out the easel and threw the drapery back.
I'm afraid my scruples vanished when I got him before my easel.
And it was there, 'on the easel,' that 'The Dead Child' at last made its appearance.