THE FUN-AND-FROLIC ART SCHOOL.
BY STANLEY WOOD.
COUSIN JOE had been sitting half asleep over a book in the library, when all at once the door opened just a little and a row of eyes peeped in at him, the eyes beginning somewhere near the top of the door and ending pretty close to the bottom. There were just five of these eyes; the one nearest the top being large and of a lovely soft brown color, the next one gray, the next one brown, the next blue, and the last one away down towards the bottom, a mischievous brown.
“Peep!” said a voice, which matched the mischievous brown eye, and a fat little hand was thrust in through the crack.
“May we come in?” asked a soft voice, which sounded near the top of the door.
“Certainly,” said Joe, shutting his book and trying to look as though he had not been half asleep over it. The door opened, and the cousins marched in. First came Bryant, a chubby five-year-old, with sturdy legs, a large head, yellow hair and brown eyes full of mischief, next to him Leefee, seven years old, slight of figure, a little lady with light hair and sky-blue eyes; then Adale, ten years old, her brown hair flying and her brown eyes dancing; after her Maud, only fourteen, but quite a young lady for all that, with serious gray eyes, and last of all, Cora, a slender young woman of seventeen with soft brown hair and eyes.
“Ladies and gentleman,” said cousin Joe, when they all stood before him, “to what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
“Your Royal Highness,” replied Maud, who had read one of Sir Walter Scott’s novels, “we have a humble petition to present, in which—”
“My top’s broked,” interrupted Bryant, suddenly.
“And we want you to tell us a story,” said Adale with eagerness.
“Have you learned your lessons, Adale?” asked cousin Joe, very solemnly.
“Oh yes, indeed.”
“Where is Terra del Fuego?”
“But cousin, I study geography only five days in the week; you can’t expect me to know where Terra del Fuego is on Saturday.”
“Really, I hadn’t thought of that.”
“And you’ll tell us a story?” said Leefee.
“One we haven’t heard before,” suggested Adale.
“My top’s broked,” said Bryant with much emphasis.
“Friends,” said cousin Joe, “the demand for new stories is in great excess of the supply. When I finished telling you my last story, Adale there remarked that she had read that story inWide Awake. Now there’s a moral in that remark of Adale’s, for when my friends and fellow-citizens have grown old enough to read stories they are too old for me to tell them to.”
“Oh, cousin!”
“But, I’ll compromise with you; instead of a story I’ll give you a drawing-lesson.”
“I get drawing-lessons enough at school,” said Adale.
“I didn’t know you could draw, cousin Joe,” said Clara.
“I can’t; and that’s the beauty of my system. The teacher doesn’t need to know anything about drawing, and the students never learn anything.”
“How absurd!” said Cora.
“How curious!” said Maud.
“How pleasant!” said Adale.
“How funny!” said Leefee.
“My top’s broked,” said Bryant.
“The class will come to order,” said cousin Joe.
Then they all gathered around the library-table, and each one was provided with a pencil and a bit of paper.
“Students of the Fun-and-Frolic Art School,” said Joe, “we have met for mutual deterioration in art. As you all ought to know, but no doubt many of you do not, Sir Edward Landseer was a great artist in dogs, Rosa Bonheur is a great artist in horses and kine, but we unitedly will be great artists in—pigs.”
“Pigs?”
“Yes, ladies and gentleman, I repeat it—PIGS! Is there anyone in the class who can draw a pig?”
“I can draw one, such as the boys draw on their slates at school,” said Adale.
“Please draw one then,” said cousin Joe. In a moment Adale had accomplished the task and handed him the result.
“This,” said Joe, as he held it up in view of the class, “this is
THE CONVENTIONAL PIG.
THE CONVENTIONAL PIG.
“You see it doesn’t look like a pig, but every boy knows it is intended to represent a pig. If it looked a good deal more like a pig he might not recognize it. Thus conventional politeness does not resemble real politeness, yet everybody knows what it is intended to represent. There is a moral in that remark somewhere—if you can find it—and now we’ll go on with the lesson. The first thing you must do in order to become an artist in my school is toshut your eyes.”
“Shut our eyes!”
“Why, cousin,” said Cora, “I thought all artists had to keep their eyes especially wide open.”
“There are some who do not,” said cousin Joe, sententiously.
“I’ve seen people shutoneeye and look at pictures through their hand with the other—so,” said Adale, making a fist of her little hand and peeping through it.
“Those people wereconnoisseurs,” said Joe; “we are artists and must shutbotheyes, Cora; will you begin? Shut your eyes, place your pencil on the paper, and draw the outlines of a pig as nearly as you can.”
“But, cousin Joe, isn’t this a play for little girls, not for—well—proper young ladies?”
“Very well, Miss Cora; we’ll begin with Leefee then.”
Little Miss Leefee seized her pencil eagerly, and shutting her eyes uncommonly close, drew this:
THIS IS A PIG.
THIS IS A PIG.
How the rest did laugh at poor Leefee!
“You’ll have to write under it, ‘This is a pig,’” said Adale.
“And I will do it too,” said Leefee, and she did so, as you can see by the picture.
“It’s your turn now, Adale,” said Joe.
“This will be a conventional pig, like my other one,” said Adale, laughing as she shut her eyes. When she had finished her drawing, all confessed, amidst great laughter, that it was not at all a “conventional pig;” so Adale wrote under her production:
“THIS IS AN UNCONVENTIONAL PIG.”
“THIS IS AN UNCONVENTIONAL PIG.”
“It looks more like a tapir than a pig,” said Leefee, mindful of Adale’s criticism on her effort.
“Well, isn’t a tapir a kind of unconventional pig?” replied the artist.
“Your pigs are all too long,” said Maud; “you don’t make them fat enough.”
“You can be guided by your own criticism, for you come next after Adale,” said cousin Joe, merrily.
Maud drew her pig with great care. “There!” said she, as she displayed the result of her labors, “what do you think of that?”
MAUD’S FAT PIG.
MAUD’S FAT PIG.
“Oh what a funny rabbit!” exclaimed Adale.
“It’s more like a rat,” said Leefee.
“Itmustbe a pig,” said Maud firmly, “I’m drawing pigs.”
In the mean time Miss Cora, who had declined to enter into such childish sport, had been closely observed by Adale. Suddenly that versatile young lady seized Cora’s paper before she could prevent it, and exclaiming with a triumphant flourish, “Cora’s pig! Oh,dolook at Cora’s pig!” she displayed this:
CORA’S FEROCIOUS PIG.
CORA’S FEROCIOUS PIG.
Cora blushingly acknowledged that she had been induced by the enthusiasm of the others to try and improve on their efforts.
“What a fierce-looking quadruped,” said Maud.
“Yes; I have called it my ferocious pig,” replied Cora, evidently greatly enjoying her production.
“Ladies and gentleman of the Fun-and-frolic Art School,” said cousin Joe, oratorically, “your incapacity has exceeded my highest expectations. Your efforts to draw the lineaments of the domestic animal known as the pig having exceeded in grotesqueness and falseness to nature the efforts of many more experienced artists, I am naturally very much gratified. I now have the honor to announce to you that ‘school’s out.’”
“Oh not yet, cousin.”
“Not yet?”
“No;youmust draw a pig,” said Maud.
“You must draw a pig,” said Adale.
“You must draw a pig,” said Leefee.
“My top’s broked,” said Bryant.
“Necessity knows no law,” said cousin Joe.
“Bring me my pencil now, my hand feels skilful, and the shadows lift from my waked spirit airily and swift,” and with an air of vast importance he began to execute his task. The little cousins were so fearful that he would take a sly peep at his work, that they blindfolded him, and his production was received with shouts of laughter. When they took off his muffler he saw this:
THE ACEPHALOUS OR ONE-EYED PIG.
THE ACEPHALOUS OR ONE-EYED PIG.
“Ohwhat a bad pig,” said Cora.
“Ohwhata bad pig,” said Maud.
“Oh what abadpig,” said Adale.
“Oh what a badpig,” said Leefee.
“My top—”
“Shall be mended,” said cousin Joe, taking little Bryant upon his knee.