Their Pilgrimage by Charles Dudley Warner
page 53 of 270 (19%)
page 53 of 270 (19%)
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painter." "I wonder what he's painting." "Maybe he'll paint us." "Let's
see what he's doing." "I should like to see a man paint." And the crowd flowed on, getting in front of the sketcher, and creeping round behind him for a peep over his shoulder. The artist closed his sketch-book and retreated, and the stout woman, balked of that prey, turned round a moment to the view, exclaimed, "Ain't that elegant!" and then waddled off to the hotel. "I wonder," Mr. King was saying, "if these excursionists are representative of general American life?" "If they are," said the artist, "there's little here for my purpose. A good many of them seem to be foreigners, or of foreign origin. Just as soon as these people get naturalized, they lose the picturesqueness they had abroad." "Did it never occur to your highness that they may prefer to be comfortable rather than picturesque, and that they may be ignorant that they were born for artistic purposes?" It was the low voice of Miss Lamont, and that demure person looked up as if she really wanted information. "I doubt about the comfort," the artist began to reply. "And so do I," said Miss Sumner. "What on earth do you suppose made those girls come up here in white dresses, blowing about in the wind, and already drabbled? Did you ever see such a lot of cheap millinery? I haven't seen a woman yet with the least bit of style." "Poor things, they look as if they'd never had a holiday before in their |
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