Part 14 (1/2)

MR. MILB. Why? The French are the best sculptors in the world.

MR. L.-B. The Frens.h.!.+ I can _not_ bring myshelf to believe that, if only for thish s.h.i.+mple reashon, they haven't the _patiensh_ for it.

FIRST COMM. So _I_ should have said. For my own part--not knowing much _about_ it, very likely--I should have put the _Italians_ first.

MR. MILB. If you are talking of all time----

FIRST COMM. (_feeling at last at his ease_). I should say, even _now_.

Why, there was a piece of statuary in the Italian Exhibition at Earl's Court some years back that took _my_ fancy and took my _wife's_ fancy very much. It was a representation in marble of a 'en and chickens, all so natural, and with every individual feather on the birds done to such a nicety----!

MR. MILB. I was hardly referring to the skill with which the Italians carve--ah--_poultry_.

MR. L.-B. Ridic'lous! Great mishtake to talk without unnershtanding shubject. (_The FIRST COMMERCIAL retires from the room in disorder._) One thing I should like to ashk is thish. Why are sculptors at present day so inferior to the antique? Ishn't the human form divine ash n.o.ble and ash shymmetrical ash formerly? Why can't they _reproduce_ it then?

MR. MILB. You must first find your sculptor. Providence doesn't see fit to create a Michael Angelo or a Praxiteles every five minutes, any more than a Shakspeare.

MR. L.-B. (_wavering between piety and epigram_). Thank the Lord for _that_! Now there'sh Florensh. Shome of us who have had the _run_ there--well, there you see all the original thingsh--all the _originalsh_. And yet, if you'll believe me (_dreamily_), with all my love and charm for Art, gimme the Capitoline Venush living and breathing in _flesh and blood_, Sir, not in cold lifelesh marble!

MR. MILB. That of course is a matter of taste. But we are talking about Art, not women.

MR. L.-B. (_profoundly_). Unforsh'nately, women are the _shubjects_ of Art. You've got to find out your client's shtyle of Art firsht, and then carry it out in the besht possible manner.

MR. MILB. (_rising, and knocking his pipe out_). Have I? But I'm going to bed now, so you'll excuse me.

MR. L.-B. (_detaining him_). But look here again. Take the Louvre. (_As MR. MILBOARD disclaims any desire to take it._) Now, n.o.body talksh about the Gallery _there_, and yet, if you only egshemp the thingsh that are rude and vulgar, and go quietly roun'----

SECOND COMMERCIAL (_who sees a Socratic opening at last_). Might I ask you, Sir, to enumerate any pictures there, that, in your opinion, are ”rude and vulgar”?

[_MR. MILBOARD avails himself of this diversion to escape._

MR. L.-B. In the Grand Gallery of the Louvre there'sh an enormous amount of shtuff, as everybody who'sh an artisht and a lover of Art knowsh. If I had a friend who wash thinking of going to the Louvre (_here he looks round vaguely for MR. MILBOARD_), I should shay to him, ”Do you _care_ about pictursh at all? If you _don't_, don't borrer yourshelf 'bout it.

If you _do_, drop in shome day with Me, and I'll give you a hint what to shee.” (_As he cannot make out what has become of MR. MILBOARD, he has to content himself with the SECOND COMMERCIAL._) If you were _my_ boy, I should shay to you----

SECOND COMM. (_at the door_). Pardon me for remarking that, if I was your boy, I should probably prefer to take my own opinion. (_With dignified independence._) I never follow other persons' taste in Art!

[_He goes out as the Smoke-room Page enters._

MR. L.-B. (_hazily with half-closed eyes_). If you wash _my_ boy, I should shay to you, very quietly, very sherioushly, and without 'tempting to dictate----(_Perceives that he is addressing the Page._) Jus' bring me 'nother glash whiskey an' warrer.

[_He is left sitting._

[Ill.u.s.tration]

THE OLD LOVE AND THE NEW.

A CONTRAST.

_The Stables at Saddlesprings, the Wheelers' Country House near Bykersall. MISS DIANA'S Horse BAYARD discovered in his Stall._