The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1891-08-09

to the hostess: Dear Lady Blank, the
evening is far too short. Can't We have
some more of that delightful music OF your
daughter's2' And then, turning to his
wife, the old humbug said. almost IN the
same breath: What time did You order
the carriage, my lover / am bored 70
death made mental note Of that at
once, and it will appear in next week
issue, slightly yelled, of course"
/ observed: "You must be rather
dreadful person to meet, Mr. Du Maurier.
Don't you find people are very much
afraid OF you n
He laughingly replied: "Oh, dear, no.
name. The other day / took lady IN to
dinner, and she had not caught my name.
George Du Maurier,' | said, 'Du Maurier,
the artist oh, indeed she replied,
how interesting. paint little myself;
What do yon paint--in oils or waterF
said: L sometimes do pictures for Pufach.
She musingly replied: Dear me. won.
der If know any of them? wonder II
you did picture OF q scene in Hampstead
once?'
You see fame is, after all, very small
thing"
| dropped back into the caricature ques-
ton and said: "Mr Du Maurier, you
don't caricature people, it is true. put
don't you sometimes err in the other eA
treme and make them all really TOO good
looking? Your men are all Apoilos ana
your women are daughters of the gods,
divinely tall and most divinely iair. l
don't think you really depict society quite
as it actually is in real hfe ..,..
81 disagree with you entiIsiys my
friend" briskly replied Mr.. Du Maurief;
I'm the first place, my men are not w, an
Apollos, nor my women all Junos; no
could be uglier than Sir Gorgius Miuas or
=. Al. ~ n
or antiouated spipsters? But even were
/ do make nv men and women tall and
good looking consider am right IN do
ing so. | have carefully studied this sub
iect. and I consider myself an authority.
/ maintain that there is a great improve
ment in the English race. l know people
complain of my men and women pelng TOO
tall, but do you know-and | peileve Or
+. Cation would corroborate my statement
the average stature has gone up, and
people are two inches taller than they
used to be? And not only in England,
but in parts of the continent also. L was
quite struck with the peasantry round
Deppe only this summer; wonderfully
fine people many of them were"
''Do you take portraits, as 1t were, OF
people whom you see
"No. very rarely. / go about, use my
eyes, get types. ] am sometimes long
time making up character"
1--WE all rejoice in your Mrs. Tomkyns
de Ponsonby.'" | observed. NOW, Is she
existent in one person, or is she like those
combination portraits, one face manufact-
ured out of many types2"
"No, she is not the portrait of one per-
son, but, as you say, a combination.
''Then you are inventor as well as artist,
Mr.. Du Maurier, for you have certainly
enriched the social literature of our coun-
try. 'Maudie' and 'Postlethwaite,' the
ridiculous aesthetic poet and artist ana
Sir Gorgius Midas and the Colonel
these are all the children of your brain ?''
"Yes, think SO; the original of Sir
Gorgius Midas does exist, and always
will. 'Maudie, well, there are several of
them, all unknown to fame. Mrs. Gina
bue Brown too. one has met her now and
again. Still, these good aesthetics of now
quite bygone day did not really move
much in society, but they were ever striv-
ing, like the snobs they were, to be mixed
up with dukes and duchesses, only the
latter were too common sense to stand
their rubbish and their airs"
'What do you call your most celebrated
picture, Mr.. Du Maurier2" asked. The
artist rose, fetched down a magnificently
bound tolio edition of his works. looked
almost every one of which l, a devout stu
dent of Punch was perfectly familiar, and
at last stopped opposite the picture be-
meath which was written, "Are you in
tense?" We all know 1.-THE wan, hag-
gard, mock spirituelle, femme humbug,
gazing wistfully and earnestly into the
sunny, self-satisfied face of the dapper,
"John Smith," the some
thing in the city," who is to take her down
to dinner.
1 laughed heartily as gazed upon this
charming absurdity 81 thought It would
be one of those" I remarked. "Now all
these pictures of yours, Mr.. Du Maurier,
have blended themselves, as it were, into
the very inner drawing-room life of this
country. My sister and l always used to
rejoice so much in that one that depicted
the earnest endeavor of some ridiculous
couple to live up to the teapot which
they had just bought"
"Ah, yes, that was actually said. but as
q rule | write my own remarks beneath
each picture"
WELL" | replied, sin any case you
fairly laughed that ridiculous aesthetic
craze to scorn. Do you never portray your
own friends?"
"Weli, very rarely. Now and again in
my backgrounds | sketch in distant and
intimate friends just to show them | think
of them sometimes.
"Now, Mr.. Du Maurier, I want to ask
my most solemn and important question
How do you manage to hand down year
after year, with never failing accuracy,
the gowns and bonnets of this great social
world in which we live and move and have
our being? You have provided posterity
with fashion plate album of Photographic
accuracy. How on earth do you do t?'
MY friend" was the solemn reply, "I
have wife and three daughters ="
| breathed once more. / was answered.
"And what type do you like drawing
best?"
Bishops and 1unkies," was the de-
lightful and wholly unexpected reply.
And in answer to my astonished gaze of
anxious inquiry the explanation came
forth in one word, Calves" I under
stood. and smiled to myself as 1 quietly
reflected that two things bishops and
hunkies have in common-calves and dig
nitv-and sometimes each is equally false.
"And how do you 'dfferentiate the
humoru of nations, Mr.. Du Maurier, the
humor of Americas Puck, of Paris, Ger
many, etc?"
II don't differentiate at all. We are so
unlike. They complain we are heavy and
dignifed; we that they have not so much
point. Each nation has its own IDEAS
And then, with memory of a graceful
sketch depicting an old French able wan
dering on lonely shore, gazing wistfully
al the evening star, | took my leave of the
delightful artist TO whom society In gen.
eral and Punch in particular owe so great
a debt. RAYMOND BLATHwAYr.