按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
four were the only living creatures in the square。 The rest of the
market consisted of eggs and a few emaciated fowls hanging from a
sort of broom handle。
〃And where's the cathedral？〃 I asked the gendarme。 It was a Gothic
structure in the postcard of evident antiquity。 He said there had
once been a cathedral。 It was now a brewery； he pointed it out to
me。 He said he thought some portion of the original south wall had
been retained。 He thought the manager of the brewery might be
willing to show it to me。
〃And the fountain？〃 I demanded； 〃and all these doves！〃
He said there had been talk of a fountain。 He believed the design
had already been prepared。
I took the next train back。 I do not now travel much out of my way
to see the original of the picture postcard。 Maybe others have had
like experience and the picture postcard as a guide to the Continent
has lost its value。
The dealer has fallen back upon the eternal feminine。 The postcard
collector is confined to girls。 Through the kindness of
correspondents I possess myself some fifty to a hundred girls； or
perhaps it would be more correct to say one girl in fifty to a
hundred different hats。 I have her in big hats； I have her in small
hats； I have her in no hat at all。 I have her smiling； and I have
her looking as if she had lost her last sixpence。 I have her
overdressed； I have her decidedly underdressed； but she is much the
same girl。 Very young men cannot have too many of her； but myself I
am getting tired of her。 I suppose it is the result of growing old。
＇Why not the Eternal Male for a change？＇
Girls of my acquaintance are also beginning to grumble at her。 I
often think it hard on girls that the artist so neglects the eternal
male。 Why should there not be portraits of young men in different
hats； young men in big hats； young men in little hats； young men
smiling archly； young men looking noble。 Girls don't want to
decorate their rooms with pictures of other girls； they want rows of
young men beaming down upon them。
But possibly I am sinning my mercies。 A father hears what young men
don't。 The girl in real life is feeling it keenly： the impossible
standard set for her by the popular artist。
〃Real skirts don't hang like that；〃 she grumbles； 〃it's not in the
nature of skirts。 You can't have feet that size。 It isn't our
fault； they are not made。 Look at those waists！ There would be no
room to put anything？〃
〃Nature； in fashioning woman； has not yet crept up to the artistic
ideal。 The young man studies the picture on the postcard； on the
coloured almanack given away at Christmas by the local grocer； on the
advertisement of Jones' soap； and thinks with discontent of Polly
Perkins； who in a natural way is as pretty a girl as can be looked
for in this imperfect world。 Thus it is that woman has had to take
to shorthand and typewriting。 Modern woman is being ruined by the
artist。
＇How Women are ruined by Art。＇
Mr。 Anstey tells a story of a young barber who fell in love with his
own wax model。 All day he dreamed of the impossible。 Shethe young
lady of wax…like complexion； with her everlasting expression of
dignity combined with amiability。 No girl of his acquaintance could
compete with her。 If I remember rightly he died a bachelor； still
dreaming of wax…like perfection。 Perhaps it is as well we men are
not handicapped to the same extent。 If every hoarding； if every
picture shop window； if every illustrated journal teemed with
illustrations of the ideal young man in perfect fitting trousers that
never bagged at the knees！ Maybe it would result in our cooking our
own breakfasts and making our own beds to the end of our lives。
The novelist and playwright； as it is； have made things difficult
enough for us。 In books and plays the young man makes love with a
flow of language； a wealth of imagery； that must have taken him years
to acquire。 What does the novel…reading girl think； I wonder； when
the real young man proposes to her！ He has not called her anything
in particular。 Possibly he has got as far as suggesting she is a
duck or a daisy； or hinting shyly that she is his bee or his
honeysuckle： in his excitement he is not quite sure which。 In the
novel she has been reading the hero has likened the heroine to half
the vegetable kingdom。 Elementary astronomy has been exhausted in
his attempt to describe to her the impression her appearance leaves
on him。 Bond Street has been sacked in his endeavour to get it
clearly home to her what different parts of her are likeher eyes；
her teeth； her heart； her hair； her ears。 Delicacy alone prevents
his extending the catalogue。 A Fiji Island lover might possibly go
further。 We have not yet had the Fiji Island novel。 By the time he
is through with it she must have a somewhat confused notion of
herselfa vague conviction that she is a sort of condensed South
Kensington Museum。
＇Difficulty of living up to the Poster。＇
Poor Angelina must feel dissatisfied with the Edwin of real life。 I
am not sure that art and fiction have not made life more difficult
for us than even it was intended to be。 The view from the mountain
top is less extensive than represented by the picture postcard。 The
play； I fear me； does not always come up to the poster。 Polly
Perkins is pretty enough as girls go； but oh for the young lady of
the grocer's almanack！ Poor dear John is very nice and loves usso
he tells us； in his stupid； halting way； but how can we respond when
we remember how the man loved in the play！ The 〃artist has fashioned
his dream of delight；〃 and the workaday world by comparison seems
tame to us。
CHAPTER VIII
＇The Lady and the Problem。＇
She is a good woman； the Heroine of the Problem Play； but accidents
will happen； and other people were to blame。
Perhaps that is really the Problem： who was responsible for the
heroine's past？ Was it her father？ She does not say sonot in so
many words。 That is not her way。 It is not for her； the silently…
suffering victim of complicated antecedent incidents； to purchase
justice for herself by pointing the finger of accusation against him
who； whatever his faults may be； was once； at all events； her father。
That one fact in his favour she can never forget。 Indeed she would
not if she could。 That one asset； for whatever it may be worth by
the time the Day of Judgment arrives； he shall retain。 It shall not
be taken from him。 〃After all he was my father。〃 She admits it；
with the accent on the 〃was。〃 That he is so no longer； he has only
himself to blame。 His subsequent behaviour has apparently rendered
it necessary for her to sever the relationship。
〃I love you；〃 she has probably said to him； paraphrasing Othello's
speech to Cassio； 〃it is my duty； andas by this time you must be
awareit is my keen if occasionally somewhat involved； sense of duty
that is the cause of almost all our troubles in this play。 You will
always remain the object of what I cannot help feeling is misplaced
affection on my part； mingled with contempt。 But n