Evening star., 1918-05-26
Art and Art X

plenty. and most of 'em is right in the
mood to be stang. 1t does seem to
me. though. that by the time these
folks get through with them there
wouldn't be much left for a. bunco-
man to get
Mr.. Bunker, that most Of these high
binders that's takin' money from the
folks at this bazaar is New Workers
and hadn't ought to be in the same
class as a man like me that came
from Oroduna. Iowa. just to do bunco
work. If they leave anything at all
/ ought to get it,
Il dare say" admitted Mrs. Bunker.
When they reached the art booth
Mrs. WINNER glided toward them.
whispered excitedly. but Ann Feath-
erby-Flubb is standing right at the
corner of the booth talking to Roxby
Ridge. The crowd at that end OF the
booth is looking at them. And that's
Mrs. y-Flubb-the woman at
lady. You can tell by her back she
is as angry as anything" And she
darted into the crowd again to make
hay while the sun of the presence
mother added piquancy to the pres
ence of Roxby Ridge and his paint
ing. Soon the megaphoned announce
ment that some celebrity would sing
and dance IN another part of the
bazaar drew the volatile crowd away
from Roxby Ridge. and then Mrs.
WINNER introduced Mr.. Bunker to
Lady Barr-Toskins and to Roxby
Ridge himself.
Young Ridge was not the sort of
youth any mother would have picked
for a husband for a daughter. but
one did not grieve much over the
chance that Ridge might marry Ann
Featherby-Flubb. In Ann all the
Flubb characteristics seemed predom-
inant. You knew at glance that
average man and that she was
swift" Young Ridge was cold and
calculating. AS Mr.. Bunker looked
at him with the simple -mindedness
of an honest rustic he saw right into
the young fellows heart and guessed
that the reason Roxby Ridge had re-
fused the s500.0OO offered by Mrs.
Featherby<Flubb OF such a sum had
been offered) was not because he
loved Ann too deeply to let money
part them, but because he was hold
ing out for a larger sum.
Nor did Jabez have much pity for
Mrs. Featherby-Flubb when he met
her face to face. 1T was quite evident
that the reason she did not wish Ann
to marry Roxby Ridge was not that
but that she feared a Roxby Ridge
son-in-1aw might injure her own
social prestige.
From these three rather unpleasant
persons Mr.. Bunker turned to a con-
temptation of the picture Mr.. Ridge
had donated to the bazaar.
Mr.. Bunker was captivated by the
picture. What Mrs. WINNER had said
was true-you could read the news in
the painted newspaper quite as easily
as IL the newspaper had been printed.
Mr.. Roxby Ridge explained the pic
A, -
sented the table of some poor English
chap who had bought the paper. read
the announcement of war and had
left for England without moments
delay.
you can see some of the dust now.
way. I painted a butterfly on a rose
once: you had to use a magnifying
glass to see it right. and then you
could see the scales on the wings.
That's my theory of what art should
be. Art should be nature put on can
dollar bill I painted in this picture
/ gave the bazaar. Use this magnify
ing glass. You can see the silk
threads in the paper? That is what
call art"'
rs art pretty good these days?"
ask ''Is business pretty good?'
Its rotten" said Mr.. Roxby Ridge
bitterly. Between you and me. sir.
the world is insane-insane over
something 1t calls art. but that is no
more art than a cowhide is a COW.
There is art and art, but I don't call
this Corot stun art at all. Look at it
reasonably; this fellow Corot painted
trees, ehg'
Mr. Bunker nodded affirmatively, al
though he had not the slightest idea
what Mr.. Corot had painted.
rok IT,
his eyes cleaning. They call those
sage-green things Corot painted
trees You can't see leaf on any
tree. You can call one of the blobs of
paint Corot dabbed on canvas a leaf,
but you can't see a vein in any leaf.
don't call that art. / call that paint
butchering. Did you ever see full
grown tree twelve inches high? That's
how Corot painted them. My idea of
art is this: Everything life size. no
bigger and no smaller, and just like