Page:The Black Cat v01no02 (1895-11).pdf/17

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An Andenken.
15

and as every plant seemed at the very height of its bloom and perfection, and every picture seemed as clean and free from weather stains as if just painted, it is no wonder that Ethel received the impression so common with those who first see this brilliant spectacle.

"What is it for?" she said. "I never saw anything so decorative and brilliant, but I did not know it was any great gala day. Why didn't you tell me? And what day is it?"

"No day at all; or, rather, no gala day," said Florence.

"Then what have they done this for?"

"For religion's sake, or beauty's sake, or a mixture of the two, I suppose."

"You don't mean to say that they keep it like this all the time?"

"Yes, I do; until the frost kills the flowers, at least, and even then the pictures remain."

"And is all this done by these ignorant peasants?" asked Ethel, flushed with the delight of this new and strange impression.

"Of course. I should think you could see that the painting and drawing, at least, were of peasant origin."

"It is terrific in a way," said Ethel, scrutinizing with a professional squint, which sat very prettily on her charming face, a picture of the Holy Family which happened to be nearest to her; "and yet," she went on, "there's feeling in that—quite wonderful feeling! If that Virgin were not such a fright, she would really be quite beautiful. Do you see what I mean?"

"Well, hardly," said Florence, with a smile.

"Of course not ! but I do mean what I say. The tender feeling of that face and figure are now completely subject to the grotesque form and crude color which the poor ignorant painter must have suffered from acutely–for he had a beautiful ideal in his mind when he did that."

"Well, you are even more knowing in art than I gave you credit for," said Florence, "if you can make that out. It seems to me to resemble nothing so much as one of the jointed dolls, made of wood, and painted with three colors—white, black, and red,—which used to be the delight of my infancy."

"I see that resemblance," said Ethel seriously; "but I also see something else—very different. I wonder who does these things."