New-York tribune., 1901-07-14
OLD MASTERS, YOUNG LOVE
BY ALBERT BIGELow PAINE.

II
wasn't a pretty word, though used in the artistic
sense it really good deal less than it
sounds. a rotten" play, for instance, or a
rotten" story picture. may be entirely
Ventional TO idea and wholly moral to
fone-in fact it is more than likely TO be just
these things-the defect thus unpleasantly char
actelized being for the most part a matter OF
lis technique execution.
For this is the day of technique-the juggery
Of words and lines and coors-and he who
writes to-day must have his art in his finger
tips as we'll as in his soul-certany in the for
mer-else his work will be justly scheduled 5
rotten" aud his future damned incontinently.
However. this is in the nature of depression.
The word slipped out when Jack was looking
over some photographs of the old masters which
Pansy had brought from the other side" after
spending the summer roaming through miles
and acres Of saints and Madonnas and breath
ing in The wonder and spell Of those old dream
ers who. without the clever lightness Of touch
and the Photographic skill in drawing which
our young men find profitable to-day, yet
wrought. into their canvases the soul Of man
ard its eternal aloration Of infnity.
Size had shown them II jack first. because
Jack wrote things and Pansy illustrated them.
and together they sold them, for their work was
clever. Oh. very clever, and they never had
thought much about the old masters before
Pdnsy went for summer abroad, after which
they were going TO be married and work to-
gether a great deal harder, and make ever so
much money and live happy ever after"
But when Pansy came home she full to
running over with old masters. She talked Old
masters and dreamed Old masters. and when
h-r boxes came through the custom house at
last they were quite stuffed and bursting with
old masters in Photographic reproductions
Poor Jack sat and looked wooden armed
saints, cherubim with peeled noses, and s:ckly,
simpering celestials with whom he had pre-
ylous acquaintance. and listened to Pansy rave
over them. unit. il seemed to him he must grab
her up bodily ana carry her off TO the woods and
folds. where it raining and there were mud
ard wet leaves and pungent smelling vines and
The other realities of life.
Oh yes. Pansy." he said, desperately last,
when she had asked him for the fifty-eighth
time if they weren't wonderful" and marvel
loUs,' and sublime" and all the other wc--s
that people always when they talk about
old masters. why, yes, those old fellows were
all right for their time. 1 suppose, but really,
you know. as compared with the work that's
being done to-day. they are-they're pretty rot
ten, Pansy. after all
Ana then. right away, he realized the enor-
nifty Of his offence. 1t much the
word. He had heard Pansy herself apply it
more than once her work and that of
her contemporaries. But to the old masters.
Pansy gasped and grew little pale.
OH" she managed to say, "Oh. jack"
Jack ioundered.
'-Oh. we'll. / didn't mean just that, you know
that is-not in the way you know that-that''-
The expression in Pansys face brought him to
a complete standstiu for a moment then ne
houndered
II mean that-that they couldn't draw you
know-I-that is-their ideas were-were good
enough l suppose-at least
oh they good enough were they"
The mingled and irony in Miss Pansy'
voice Was something quite worth while. Jack,
determined to ignore any unpleasantness how
ever. went pIunging his fate headlOng-
Why yes he assented. cheerfully. for those
times. We don't much for those things
noV, you know
oh. don't. Well. I'll ask you kindly.
please. rot include in that statement-nor
any one else. | fancy, who has been cbroad and
knows what real art is,'
Jack REDEEMED the least Bit then laughed
oh. come Pansy, This isn't personal, you
know. III admit I'm chump and those fell
lows had the real thing in them, but L only mean
that as compared TO Gibby, for instance, or
Remmy, or you, OF any Of the rest of our gang.
they couldn't draw lick in the road now, could
they"