, 1899-12-23
A XMAS PAINTING.


the word school" is an insult to an
impressionist. The very fact of his
existence is a protest against schools;
he can never be encompassed by a
school: it is against his canons to take
instruction in anything. He must dis
cover everything by intuition, drawing,
composition, coloring, lights and shad-
ows.
And then. also, Diomede was a good
looking fellow.
Handsome women liked him. He
liked lampreys. oysters, jellied snipe,
champagne and Bordeaux.
But his ambition exceeded all his
other passions. 1t was houndless.
He didn't care a snap for the old
masters. He ignored the Italians. In
his eyes Rubens was a play-card pain
ter, Rembrandt a sign-painter, De La
Croix a dauber. Of his contempora-
ries, Meissonier was a bon-ton colorist,
Makart not a painter at all, nothing
but a kalsominer.
Nothing but rubbish all that has
ever been put or canvas.
Poetry was nothing. The ideal was
insanity! Impression-that was every
thing!
Diomede's pictures were creations,
all of them, of extraordinary concep-
toni
His Sleeping Wench" was some
thing wonderful. Only the soles of
her feet were visible. Her head was
out of sight. 1t was hanging down
over the further side of a cot. The
rest was concealed by her raised knees,
for her-feet were propped up against
the spring-board. A long arm extend
ing the whole length of the picture and
a fish clutching a whisky flask bore
witness that the woman sleeping there
was a s~utler-wench.
His animal paintings we're still bet
ter. His Drinking Cow" represented
a large dairy stable from which two
horns and two ears p%rotruded. The
rest of the head was in the stable
quite naturally. Above it a serpentine
growth stretched, which, had it been
worked out more carefully, might have
been discerned to be the cows tail,
with which she was switching the
flies away while she was drinking.
His landscapes, too, were quite
original. Conspicuous among them
was a sunrise at midnight on the Isle
of Ava Saxa, at sight of which a
friend of his once exclaimed:
Il say, old man, | hardly think your
uncle's face is quite as red as all that"
He thought 1t was a portrait. But it
was only the suns orb, and what
seemed to be the shoulders were two
black cliffs on the isle of Ava Saxa, and
the white expanse in front. which
looked like a pique waistcoat, was a
field of snow.
His placards of still-life were famous
on account Of the circumstances that
they could be hung with any co;ner
up without detracting from their excel
lence.
h picture of his that created an
especial sensation looked, when viewed
from a distance of ten feet, like a cen
templative thought floating before the
disk, of the rising moon. On closer tn
spection 1t proved to be a rat crawling
out of a hole and making for an over
turned copper stewing pan, the bottom
OF which formed the background.
His ability was also exempliied in
battle pictures. Notable among these
was the "Cossack Charge" One hun
dred horses in a row, just as many
Cossack heads-the shoulder of the
Furthermore one also appsaring-and
the same number of lances, all making
for a trench the opposite embankment
OF which was so far that each Cossack
OF them, together with the horses. was
inevitably doomed to suicide the very
next moment. But 1t is precisely this
which constitutes the genius of concep-
ton. For the second line OF Cossacks,
pressing on behind, shall thus be
enabled to gallop comfortably across
the ditch evened by the bodies of their
self-sacrificing comrades.
Despite this versatility, lie could not
succeed in getting a picture hung in
the Salon. Old painters are narrow
minded.
The Exhibition of the Rejected
gave him all the space he wanted. A
much larger public admired his paint
ings there than II they had been ac-
cepted at the Salon. But, somehow,
nobody semeed anxious to buy. And
yet they were offered at a high enough
figure. Not n of them was marked
below 10000 francs. This is also a
dogma of impressionism, mat none of
Its disciples shall dispose of his pic
lures cheap.
They represented a whole treasury,
But whenever M. Diomede inquired
about the prospects the art dealer who
had given him an advance upon them
always scratched his head and looked
dubious.
DO you know, M. Diomede," said
NJ Luchs, the art dealer, one day, 81
have met somebody who is making all
sorts of inquiries about your"
"a European?"
mo. An American"
If 1t were a European l wouldn't
care to waste any time on him. Is he
an oil king?"
mo. 1t is a queen, the owner of a
silver mine. Miss Deborah Stops"
All! Miss Deborah Stops, who is
sc celebrated on account of her dia-
monds, and likewise on account of not
permitting any cooking to be done on
Sunday and not frequenting the the
aters! You see. that's a woman | salaam
to-"