The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1920-10-10
MnenaOsyne's
Pictures
MiIIet's skylark.

To those who have been fortunate
enough to have visited the Louvre, the
Pitt, the English Academy, the Metro
politan Museum and the Chicago Art
Gallery, many blessed memories are
given. Pictures pass before them in
a gorgeous kaleidoscope of color and
form. But time passes, and each sep
arate picture either fades far away,
desolves, and is quite forgotten, or
memory underscores it, in her whimsi-
cal fashion, and hangs it on the walls
of her own gallery, where in the af-
fections of the individual, chrome and
masterpiece hang side by side. But If
q picture is once hung on these walls
it is never removed. For memory is
the artist, and she hangs her can
vases on the heart, she retouches them
with a mortal love; so her colors never
depart.
Fortunately for me, my own gallery
is crowded. Corridor after corridor OF
my mind is full of masterpieces. and
other pictures less cleverly painted,
but better loved. These various pic
lures are hung in mental rooms, not
with any idea of the period, but
through some peculiar association OF
forgotten idea. The first picture that
/ remember was called Cant You
Talk?" 1t depicted handsome three
year-old child. in a white cambria
shirt, creeping toward a mastiff, and
commissioning his friend. because the
other did not converse in words. The
soft brown tone of the painting, the
warmth and glow of the child's flesh,
the high lights upon the two faces, the
patient understanding of the dog and
the puzzled pity of the boy, are clear
and distinct: though memory hung
that picture some thirty odd years ago.
With memory's inconsistency the
next conspicuous picture in this men
tai gallery is illet's Sky Lark aThis
picture hangs in the Marshall Field
Memorial Room Of the Chicago Art
Gallery. 1t is as simple as 1t is beau
tiful. 1t shows a peasant girl stand
ing erect, in a field that has been
plowed and narrowed for centuries.
She is starting out in the early. morn
ing to CLEAN in this same field. Her
smock is dulled and stained with the
soil from the burrows in which she is
about to labor. There is a sense Of
z.
She has not even the incentive of a
new task Her unruly hair is bound
up in a red handkerchief. That is the
one bit of bright color in the picture.
There she stands, and looks up into
the sky.
That is THE Sky Lark"
A Cook Tourist passed through this
gallery. She stopped before this pic
ture. She found ii in her catalogue.
1t was marked with a star. So she
gave it her attention. She read aloud
THE Sky Larki" She cast a casual
glance toward the top of the picture.
Then she examined the canvas more
thoroughly. She was puzzled. She
turned to an artist, who stood by:
Excuse me, sir, but is this Millet's
Sky Lark?' Being answered in the
affirmative, she turned back. she
searched the masterpiece again. Dis
appointed, she asked: Show it to me
please"
show what?" the othersreturned.
The bird, sir" she answered, Il
can't find so much as a sparrow
She did not see the Sky Lark and
so she could not hear his song. She
was very young The woman in Mil
let's picture is young also. Only
through labor and sacrifice, this peas
ant lass has learned how TO listen;
so she both hears the song and sees
the bird She listens so wei that
most of those who look at her also
catch the singing OF the Lark. Those
who can hear the singing Of MilIet's