m nothingbut horrors, he may well ask--"Where's the entertainment for the manwho wants an evening's amusement?" The humor of a farce may not seemover-refined to a particular class of intelligence; but there arethousands of people who take an honest pleasure in it. And who, afterseeing my old friend J.L. Toole in some of his famous parts, andhaving laughed till their sides ached, have not left the theatre morebuoyant and light-hearted than they came? Well, if the stage hasbeen thus useful and successful all these centuries, and still isproductive; if the noble fascination of the theatre draws to it, as weknow that it does, an immortal poet such as our Tennyson, whom, I cantestify from my own experience, nothing delights more than the successof one of the plays which, in the mellow autumn of his genius, he hascontributed to the acting theatre; if a great artist like Tadema isproud to design scenes for stage plays; if in all departments of stageproduction we see great talent, and in nearly every i
me come in."
To which the Pig answered, "No, no, by the hair of my chinny chin chin."
"Then I'll huff and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in!" said the Wolf. So he huffed, and he puffed, and he blew his house in, and ate up the little Pig.
The second Pig met a Man with a bundle of furze, and said, "Please, Man, give me that furze to build a house"; which the Man did, and the Pig built his house. Then along came the Wolf and said, "Little Pig, little Pig, let me come in."
"No, no, by the hair of my chinny chin chin."
"Then I'll puff and I'll huff, and I'll blow your house in!" So he huffed and he puffed, and he puffed and he huffed, and at last he blew the house down, and ate up the second little Pig.
The third little Pig met a Man with a load of bricks, and said, "Please, Man, give me those bricks to build a house with"; so the Man gave him the bricks, and he built his house with them. So the Wolf came, as he did to the other little Pigs, and said, "Little Pig, l
reece.--Rome.--Gothic Europe.--Europe of the Renaissance,--seventeenth, eighteenth and nineteenth century through Mid-Victorian period.--Cord tied about waist origin of costumes for women and men
XV THE STORY OF PERIOD COSTUMES 172
A RÉSUMÉ.
Woman as seen in Egyptian sculpture-relief; on Greek vase; in Gothic stained glass; carved stone; tapestry; stucco; and painting of the Renaissance; eighteenth and nineteenth century portraits.--Art throughout the ages reflects woman in every rôle; as companion, ruler, slave, saint, plaything, teacher, and voluntary worker.--Evolution of outline of woman's costume, including change in neck; shoulder; evolution of sleeve; girdle; hair; head-dress; waist line; petticoat.--Gradual disappearance of long, flowing lines characteristic of Greek and Gothic periods.--Demoralisation of Nature's shoulder and hip-line culminates in the Velasquez edition of Spanish fashion and the Marie Antoinette extravaganzas
XVI DEVELOPMENT OF GOTHIC
the oldest and best minds of this country havefelt--"
"At least those minds were shrewd in choosing their agent," sherejoined. "Yes; you are fanatic, that is plain. You will obeyorders. And you have not been much used to women. That makes itharder for me. Or easier!" She smiled at him again, very blithefor a prisoner.
"It ought to have been held down to that," he began disconsolately,"I should have been all along professional only. It began wellwhen you gave me your parole, so that I need not sit nodding andblinking, over against you also nodding and blinking all nightlong. Had you been silly, as many women would have been, you couldnot this morning be so fresh and brilliant--even though you tell meyou have not slept, which seems to me incredible. I myself sleptlike a boy, confident in your word. Now, you have banished sleep!Nodding and blinking, I must henceforth watch you, nodding--andblinking, unhappy, uncomfortable; whereas, were it in my power, Iwould never have you know th
onant college revellers, who call him "a prig," and seek to annoy him. Long mornings of study, and nights feverish from ill-health, are spent in those chambers; he is often listless and in low spirits; yet his natural temper is not desponding, and he delights in employment. He has always something to learn or to communicate--some sally of humour or quiet stroke of satire for his friends and correspondents--some note on natural history to enter in his journal--some passage of Plato to unfold and illustrate--some golden thought of classic inspiration to inlay on his page--some bold image to tone down--some verse to retouch and harmonize. His life is on the whole innocent and happy, and a feeling of thankfulness to the Great Giver is breathed over all.
[Footnote 1: A claim has been put up for the churchyard of Granchester, about two miles from Cambridge, the great bell of St. Mary's serving for the "curfew." But Stoke-Pogis is more likely to have been the spot, if any individual locality were indicated. T
never troubles the poultry of the farms nearest her den. She will forage for miles in every direction; will harass the chickens of distant farms till scarcely a handful remains of those that wander into the woods, or sleep in the open yards; yet she will pass by and through nearer farms without turning aside to hunt, except for mice and frogs; and, even when hungry, will note a flock of chickens within sight of her den, and leave them undisturbed. She seems to know perfectly that a few missing chickens will lead to a search; that boys' eyes will speedily find her den, and boys' hands dig eagerly for a litter of young foxes.
Last summer I found a den, beautifully hidden, within a few hundred yards of an old farmhouse. The farmer assured me he had never missed a chicken; he had no idea that there was a fox within miles of his large flock. Three miles away was another farmer who frequently sat up nights, and set his boys to watching afternoons, to shoot a fox that, early and late, had taken nearly thirty
not such as growed in Wyoming.
Now, Old Man Wright and me, us two, had brought up the kid. Me being foreman, that was part of my business too. We been busy. I could see we was going to be a lot busier. Before long something was due to pop. At last the old man comes to me once more.
"Curly," says he, "I was in hopes something would happen, so that this range of ours wouldn't be no temptation to them irrigation colonizers; I was hoping something would happen to them, so they would lose their money. But they lost their minds instead. These last four years they raised their bid on the Circle Arrow a half million dollars every year. They've offered me more money than there is in the whole wide world. They say now that for the brand and the range stock and the home ranch, and all the hay lands and ditches that we put in so long ago, they'll give me three million eight hundred thousand dollars, a third of it in real money and the rest secured on the place. What do you think of that?"
"I think s
m nothingbut horrors, he may well ask--"Where's the entertainment for the manwho wants an evening's amusement?" The humor of a farce may not seemover-refined to a particular class of intelligence; but there arethousands of people who take an honest pleasure in it. And who, afterseeing my old friend J.L. Toole in some of his famous parts, andhaving laughed till their sides ached, have not left the theatre morebuoyant and light-hearted than they came? Well, if the stage hasbeen thus useful and successful all these centuries, and still isproductive; if the noble fascination of the theatre draws to it, as weknow that it does, an immortal poet such as our Tennyson, whom, I cantestify from my own experience, nothing delights more than the successof one of the plays which, in the mellow autumn of his genius, he hascontributed to the acting theatre; if a great artist like Tadema isproud to design scenes for stage plays; if in all departments of stageproduction we see great talent, and in nearly every i
me come in."
To which the Pig answered, "No, no, by the hair of my chinny chin chin."
"Then I'll huff and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in!" said the Wolf. So he huffed, and he puffed, and he blew his house in, and ate up the little Pig.
The second Pig met a Man with a bundle of furze, and said, "Please, Man, give me that furze to build a house"; which the Man did, and the Pig built his house. Then along came the Wolf and said, "Little Pig, little Pig, let me come in."
"No, no, by the hair of my chinny chin chin."
"Then I'll puff and I'll huff, and I'll blow your house in!" So he huffed and he puffed, and he puffed and he huffed, and at last he blew the house down, and ate up the second little Pig.
The third little Pig met a Man with a load of bricks, and said, "Please, Man, give me those bricks to build a house with"; so the Man gave him the bricks, and he built his house with them. So the Wolf came, as he did to the other little Pigs, and said, "Little Pig, l
reece.--Rome.--Gothic Europe.--Europe of the Renaissance,--seventeenth, eighteenth and nineteenth century through Mid-Victorian period.--Cord tied about waist origin of costumes for women and men
XV THE STORY OF PERIOD COSTUMES 172
A RÉSUMÉ.
Woman as seen in Egyptian sculpture-relief; on Greek vase; in Gothic stained glass; carved stone; tapestry; stucco; and painting of the Renaissance; eighteenth and nineteenth century portraits.--Art throughout the ages reflects woman in every rôle; as companion, ruler, slave, saint, plaything, teacher, and voluntary worker.--Evolution of outline of woman's costume, including change in neck; shoulder; evolution of sleeve; girdle; hair; head-dress; waist line; petticoat.--Gradual disappearance of long, flowing lines characteristic of Greek and Gothic periods.--Demoralisation of Nature's shoulder and hip-line culminates in the Velasquez edition of Spanish fashion and the Marie Antoinette extravaganzas
XVI DEVELOPMENT OF GOTHIC
the oldest and best minds of this country havefelt--"
"At least those minds were shrewd in choosing their agent," sherejoined. "Yes; you are fanatic, that is plain. You will obeyorders. And you have not been much used to women. That makes itharder for me. Or easier!" She smiled at him again, very blithefor a prisoner.
"It ought to have been held down to that," he began disconsolately,"I should have been all along professional only. It began wellwhen you gave me your parole, so that I need not sit nodding andblinking, over against you also nodding and blinking all nightlong. Had you been silly, as many women would have been, you couldnot this morning be so fresh and brilliant--even though you tell meyou have not slept, which seems to me incredible. I myself sleptlike a boy, confident in your word. Now, you have banished sleep!Nodding and blinking, I must henceforth watch you, nodding--andblinking, unhappy, uncomfortable; whereas, were it in my power, Iwould never have you know th
onant college revellers, who call him "a prig," and seek to annoy him. Long mornings of study, and nights feverish from ill-health, are spent in those chambers; he is often listless and in low spirits; yet his natural temper is not desponding, and he delights in employment. He has always something to learn or to communicate--some sally of humour or quiet stroke of satire for his friends and correspondents--some note on natural history to enter in his journal--some passage of Plato to unfold and illustrate--some golden thought of classic inspiration to inlay on his page--some bold image to tone down--some verse to retouch and harmonize. His life is on the whole innocent and happy, and a feeling of thankfulness to the Great Giver is breathed over all.
[Footnote 1: A claim has been put up for the churchyard of Granchester, about two miles from Cambridge, the great bell of St. Mary's serving for the "curfew." But Stoke-Pogis is more likely to have been the spot, if any individual locality were indicated. T
never troubles the poultry of the farms nearest her den. She will forage for miles in every direction; will harass the chickens of distant farms till scarcely a handful remains of those that wander into the woods, or sleep in the open yards; yet she will pass by and through nearer farms without turning aside to hunt, except for mice and frogs; and, even when hungry, will note a flock of chickens within sight of her den, and leave them undisturbed. She seems to know perfectly that a few missing chickens will lead to a search; that boys' eyes will speedily find her den, and boys' hands dig eagerly for a litter of young foxes.
Last summer I found a den, beautifully hidden, within a few hundred yards of an old farmhouse. The farmer assured me he had never missed a chicken; he had no idea that there was a fox within miles of his large flock. Three miles away was another farmer who frequently sat up nights, and set his boys to watching afternoons, to shoot a fox that, early and late, had taken nearly thirty
not such as growed in Wyoming.
Now, Old Man Wright and me, us two, had brought up the kid. Me being foreman, that was part of my business too. We been busy. I could see we was going to be a lot busier. Before long something was due to pop. At last the old man comes to me once more.
"Curly," says he, "I was in hopes something would happen, so that this range of ours wouldn't be no temptation to them irrigation colonizers; I was hoping something would happen to them, so they would lose their money. But they lost their minds instead. These last four years they raised their bid on the Circle Arrow a half million dollars every year. They've offered me more money than there is in the whole wide world. They say now that for the brand and the range stock and the home ranch, and all the hay lands and ditches that we put in so long ago, they'll give me three million eight hundred thousand dollars, a third of it in real money and the rest secured on the place. What do you think of that?"
"I think s