_IN COLOUR_
TONY WELLER OF THE BELLE SAUVAGE
THE INTRODUCTION
FRIVOLITY
THE WARRENER
_IN BLACK AND WHITE_
STUDY IN PENCIL
PEN-AND-INK DRAWING FROM "PUNCH"
WORKING PARIS AT LUNCHEON
THE DARE-DEVILS
"CHACUN" WITH HIS "CHACUNE"
BETHNAL GREEN
THE REAL ARTIST
NOTE FROM A PARIS SKETCH-BOOK
THE SUBURBANITE
FIRST SKETCH FOR THE SUBURBANITE
A GOOD STUDY
PEN-AND-INK DRAWING FROM "PUNCH"
A TRAGEDY IN MINIATURE
OUR CLUB
HAVING THE TIME OF HER LIFE
LE 'IGH KICK
A SPEECH AGAINST THE GOVERNMENT
FELIX OF THE "LAPIN AGILE"
VIVE L'ARMÉE
"GAZED ON HAROLD"
FROM A PARIS SKETCH-BOOK
THE DES(S)ERTS OF BOHEMIA
GOING IT!
_Also Nineteen smaller illustrations mostly reproduced from
sketch-books_
[Illustration: STUDY IN PENCIL]
_FRANK REYNOLDS._ I.
It has been said of Tolstoy, anatomising the grim skeleton of human
nature, that his writings are more like life than life itself. Of
Frank Reynolds, with gently satirical pen and pencil depicting
the superficial humours of modern life, it might be said that his
drawings, too, are more humanly natural than real flesh and blood.
It is the peculiar faculty of the true observer that his eye pierces
straight to the heart of what he sees, and his mind, disregarding
mere detail, thereby receives and retains a clear perception of
the essential, which those of less clear and direct vision fail
to grasp more than momentarily, though they hail it with instant
recognition when in its naked simplicity it is set before them.
The process is unconscious, or at least but semi-conscious; for
your professed observer has never that keen insight which, being
native, is not to be acquired by even the most assiduous practice,
and alone permits of truthful analysis.
[Illustration]
In the making of the genuine humorist the faculty of observation
is the first necessity. Consider the great pictorial humorists,
whether dead or living, whose names are familiar in the mouth as
household words. That they gained acknowledgment by masterly handling
of the medium in which they chose to work is not to be denied.
It is by the peculiar distinction of his technique, indeed, that
the work of each, in a general way, is called to mind. But this
fame was not achieved solely upon purely artistic merits. Charles
Keene, George du Maurier, Phil May, Raven Hill, Bernard Partridge--it
is rather for the happy fidelity of their transcripts from life
than for the artistic sureness of their hands that they are and
will be remembered.
It is the possession of just that subtle power of quiet but
comprehensive observation which has obtained for Frank Reynolds
the unique position which he occupies amongst the humorous artists
of to-day.
[Illustration: LITTLE WILLIE: You'll catch it, Gerald, when mother
sees you!
GERALD: Why? Is my collar dirty?
_From "Punch."_]
For unique his position is. Other men are as funny as he, perhaps
funnier. For when a determined man sets out with a fixed and unshakeable
resolve to tickle your fancy, there is no limit to the means he
may adopt to catch you unawares, and it shall go hard with him
but he extorts from you a laugh, however tardy. Frank Reynolds
makes no such desperate efforts. One might say, indeed, that he
makes no effort at all. His simple method is to set down--with
the most refined and delicate art--just one of those little scenes
or incidents which everyone may every day everywhere witness.
[Illustration]
Spectators of such a scene in real life, it is possible--probable,
in fact--that we were in no way edified or amused. Not the veriest
ghost of a smile, it is likely, flickered across our faces. But
reproduced by the subtle humour of the artist, the inherent comedy
of the situation stands revealed, and we chuckle. And our enjoyment
is the greater for the skill with which the means are concealed
by which this magical transformation is effected. We feel that we
have discovered the comedy ourselves, not that it has been shown
to us. The characters are so perfectly natural, so precisely as we
know them and have seen them day after day. The secret lies in the
artist's power of restraint. He exaggerates, he caricatures,--he
must do so to bring his point home to our dull wits. But he does
it with such nicety that the exaggeration and the caricature are
unnoticed. Indeed, the terms are misleading. It is better to say
that he _emphasises_.
Frank Reynolds reminds me, if he will forgive my saying so, of a
certain profane 'bus-driver whom I have the privilege to number
amongst my acquaintance. With this close student of human nature
I have had the good fortune to enjoy frequent conversations, and
many are the gestures which I recall of the whip-hand towards the
pavement, accompanied by the remark (in effect), "Lumme, what funny
things a bloke _do_ see!" I confess freely that often I should
entirely miss, but for the observant jerk of the whip, the said
"funny thing"; and it is just that service which the friendly busman
renders to me, as it appears to my mind, that Frank Reynolds performs
for the community at large. It is precisely those commonplace "funny
things," whether they be persons, scenes, incidents, conversations,
or casual remarks, that happen under our very noses, which he excels
in depicting; and it is precisely the commonplace familiarity of
them that invests them with their peculiar flavour and charm.
[Illustration: THE INTRODUCTION.
_Time Sketch: London Sketch Club._]
Of the fine qualities of Frank Reynolds' technique the reader can
judge for himself from the varied specimens of the artist's work
which are reproduced in the present volume. His pencil drawings
represent, perhaps, his more familiar style, one reason of the
association of his name with this medium in the public mind being
the comparative rarity of its use for the purposes of reproduction.
Certainly it will be conceded that pencil, soft and amenable, with
its opportunities for delicate manipulation, is admirably adapted to
the interpretation of those refined shades of meaning and expression
which constitute the characteristic charm of Reynolds' drawings,
and of his masterly handling of it there can be no two opinions.
[Illustration]
His early drawings for publication were in line, and it was not
until his work in the illustrated press had appeared for some time
that he began to substitute pencil for pen-and-ink. His first
experiments in pencil were made at the Friday evening meetings of
the London Sketch Club, and it was at the suggestion of a fellow
member of that cheery coterie, his friend John Hassall, that he
adopted the softer medium for the purposes of reproduction.
The excellence of his pencil drawings notwithstanding, it is in
pen-and-ink that Frank Reynolds appears to me to be at his best.
There is a quality about his work in this medium which gives it
a peculiar distinction. Always instinct with the most subtle and
delicate feeling, there are occasions when his expressive line
does more than satisfy. It arrests: revealing in its simple
transcription of pose or expression a significance which had previously
escaped our shallow observation, but of which the truth is forced
upon us. By comparison, one feels that, despite the fine finish
of his pencil work, in the latter medium he loses, to a certain
extent, the opportunities for that incisive sureness--so suited
to his own unerring vision--which pure line affords him. Consider
the drawing (on page 32) of the girl singing in a Paris _café_.
There is no dependence on aught extraneous for the achievement of
the effect sought. Yet here, if ever, a human soul is laid bare
in all its naked tragedy.
[Illustration: WORKING PARIS AT LUNCHEON.
_From "Paris and some Parisians"_]
For sheer power in the art of drawing, Frank Reynolds has few equals
and no betters. As a draughtsman pure and simple, he seems to me
well-nigh perfect, whether he has pen, pencil, or stump of charcoal
in his hand. It is the great merit of his work, as it appears to
me, that it depends for the achievement of its intention solely
on its own intrinsic qualities. It has no tricks, no mannerisms,
no "fakements" to distract the attention and conceal weaknesses.
It is straightforward, direct in its appeal, self-reliant in its
challenge.
[Illustration]
To quote the words of a critic of discernment, as he passed from
drawing to drawing, "Frank Reynolds is right, right--right every
time." This is praise to which one can hardly add.
[Illustration: THE DARE-DEVILS.
_From "Social Pests."_]
_FRANK REYNOLDS._ II.
Frank Reynolds is yet another in the long list of artists who have
arrived at their true vocation by devious routes. There are certain
tendencies of mind which, when a man has them, refuse to be suppressed.
The journalistic instinct is one of them. Do what you will with the
man in whom it is planted, he can never keep his fingers from the
pen. Make him a doctor and you will find him scribbling columns
for the press on hygiene in the house and the benefits of breathing
through the nose. Send him into the army and he will fill his leisure
by writing tales of tiger-shoots and essays on the art of pig-sticking.
So with the artist. The man born with the gift to draw finds as
irresistible a fascination in pencil or brush as the man with the
power of narrative discovers in ink and paper. Whether he serves
before the mast as an A.B., or cattle-ranches out west, sooner or
later he is certain to drift into his proper sphere of activity.
It may take long to get there, but eventually he is bound to arrive.
In the case of Frank Reynolds the period of bondage was comparatively
brief. Entering at first upon a business career, he had originally
no prospect, nor intention, of developing his artistic impulses.
He had scarcely, indeed, a suspicion of his own powers--certainly
no proper knowledge of their latent possibilities. But commerce
had little interest for him, and circumstances which offered an
opportunity of escape combining with a happy chance which suggested
a higher artistic (and monetary) value for that faculty for drawing
which previously he had regarded in the light of a mere hobby,
caused him to throw up his earlier plans and devote himself entirely
to black-and-white illustration.
[Illustration]
There had been preparation for this, however. The son of an artist,
Frank Reynolds inherited his native talent, and this was developed
in no small measure during boyhood under his father's guidance. It
was the chief delight of Reynolds junior to "mess about" (as he
himself succinctly puts it) with the palette and tools of Reynolds
senior, and the licence thus permitted enabled him to discover for
himself much of the rudiments of the craft of the draughtsman and
painter. More was learned from long and absorbed contemplation of
his father at work.
[Illustration: "CHACUN" WITH HIS "CHACUNE".
_From "Paris and some Parisians"_]
If early inclinations were of more lasting duration than is their
wont, it is likely that Frank Reynolds would now be known to fame
as a painter of martial types and gory battlefields. With him the
fascination which soldiers and all things military have for the
boyish mind took the form of an intense eagerness to reproduce
in colour and line the gay pageant of the march. The skirl of the
fife and the tattoo of the drum inspired him with a desire, not to
shoulder a gun, but to seize a pencil. There was a shop in Piccadilly
where water-colour sketches of military types might frequently be
seen displayed to view, and to Reynolds junior a tramp thither of
several miles from the far west of London was as nothing, could he
but have the ecstatic joy of gazing, with nose flattened against
the window-pane, upon these transcendent works of art, for an hour
or more on end.
[Illustration]
This early training, to be regarded as the sure foundation upon
which the artist's later education was to rest, owed not a little,
perhaps, of its effectiveness to its casual and desultory nature.
The natural bent was allowed to reveal itself: development was
gradual, and (as it were) automatic. Individuality was neither
crushed nor cramped. On the contrary, it was given full play, and
that the work of Frank Reynolds is invested with so definite a
quality of personality is due in no small degree to the special
circumstances of his youthful training.
Heatherley's, in Newman Street, London, was his only school. Here,
for some time after his final abandonment of commerce for art as the
serious business of his life, Reynolds was a close and persistent
student. That conscientious care which presents itself to those who
are cognisant of his method of work (and, indeed, to any intelligent
critic of his finished drawings) as one of his most salient
characteristics was a feature of his days of apprenticeship at
Heatherley's. Delight at emancipation from uncongenial occupation
was balanced by a sober ambition and a steady purpose. He lived
laborious days, laying to heart the lessons of his craft, but he
laboured always _con amore_.
[Illustration: BETHNAL GREEN.
_From "Sunday Clothes"_]
In his student days at Heatherley's Frank Reynolds received much
valuable help from Professor John Crompton. On the vital importance
of drawing, the latter was especially insistent: this was the dominant
note of his teaching, markedly made manifest in the work of his
pupil. In the matter of draughtsmanship, few men have so sure a
hand, an instinct so unerring.
[Illustration]
Leaving Heatherley's, Frank Reynolds set out, armed with a sharp
pencil, and a yet sharper sense of humour, to make a living out of
black-and-white illustration. His work quickly obtained recognition,
and his drawings were soon appearing with regularity in the illustrated
press. It would have been strange if _Pick-Me-Up_, then in its
sunniest and most audacious days, had not opened its arms to so
keen an observer of life's little comedies, and Frank Reynolds
speedily became one of that clever band which, including at different
times such artists in jest as Raven Hill, S. H. Sime, Dudley Hardy,
J. W. T. Manuel, Eckhardt, and others, succeeded in making, for a
brief but brilliant period, the satirical little sheet in the blue
wrapper the most talked of periodical, perhaps, of its day. One
recalls with relish many of the quaint conceits that were illustrated
in its pages by Reynolds' mirth-provoking line, and thinks, with
regrets for opportunities lost, how admirable a successor he would
have been to Raven Hill and "the man Sime" as collaborator with Arnold
Goldsworthy in those shrewdly flippant theatrical critiques which the
latter contributed over the familiar signature of "Jingle."
[Illustration: THE REAL ARTIST.
_From "Paris and Some Parisians"_]
It is by his work for the _Sketch_, however, that Frank Reynolds is
best known to the public. Credit is due to that enterprising journal
not only for the discrimination which has caused prominence to be
given to his drawings in its pages, but for the nice appreciation
of the artist's peculiar vein of humour which has given him a free
hand to produce those exquisitely subtle studies of character which
are his especial province. As examples of what a humorous drawing
should be they are well-nigh perfect. To Reynolds it is not enough
merely to depict a laughable situation or superficially comic types.
The humour of his drawings is inherent, not extraneous; his pictorial
jests are self-contained, so to speak, and the printed legend beneath
them is incidental only. Frank Reynolds produces a comedy where
other men succeed only in perpetrating a farce.
[Illustration: "KOSHY"]
[Illustration: NOTE FROM A PARIS SKETCH-BOOK]
[Illustration: FIRST SKETCH FOR "THE SUBURBANITE"]
[Illustration: THE SUBURBANITE.
A Sunday Morning Study.
_From "Social Pests"_]
[Illustration: A GOOD STUDY.
_From "Paris and Some Parisians"_]
_FRANK REYNOLDS._ III.
How does one portray a type? What are the rules that govern the
selection of those separate distinctive features which are to form,
when blended together, one harmoniously characteristic whole? Frank
Reynolds, surely, of all people should be able to answer. But if
the question be asked him, he will reply that he does not know.
The process is unconscious, or almost so. The portrait "comes"
of its own accord. Reflection shows that this must be so. If the
artist were to try deliberately to copy this or that feature from
concrete personalities, the result would fail to carry conviction.
The portrait of a type must be the presentment of an abstract
personality--a print, as it were, from a composite negative comprising
the likenesses of many individuals, so welded together as to reproduce
only that which is common to all: a collective portrait which is
like all but resembles none.
[Illustration: There's no 'olding 'im now, sir, since 'e's gone
into knickers--e's' that pomptious!
_From "Punch"_]
It is related of Charles Dickens that the creation of many of his
famous characters was inspired by a chance remark overheard in the
street. A single telling sentence, uttering some quaint sentiment,
perhaps in quaint idiom, would set up a train of ideas ultimately
resulting, after much meditative elaboration, in a Mrs. Gamp or a
Dick Swiveller. The process is not dissimilar, one imagines, from
that by which the artist evolves a character sketch: with this
difference, that whereas a solitary trait, accidentally revealed,
was to Dickens sufficient foundation upon which to construct his
fanciful portrait, such studies of types as Frank Reynolds excels
in must be the outcome, not of one "thing seen," but of reiterated
observation of the same thing in identical or closely similar guise.
The results in either case vary as the method employed. Mrs. Gamp,
the outcome of a single observation, is a type certainly, but
exaggerated and "founded on fact" rather than true to life. "The
Suburbanite" (see p. 24), though an equally imaginary portrait, is
the real thing--the absolute personification of a type or class.
[Illustration]
In the case of Reynolds, his studies of types are the result of
an exceptional power of observation coupled with a very retentive
memory. His keen eye notes--often unconsciously, as he admits--the
small eccentricities by which character is revealed; his sense of
humour emphasises them, and his memory retains them. As a result,
when he essays to portray a type, there rises before his mental
vision, not the figure of this individual or that, but a hazy
recollection of all its representatives that he has ever come into
contact with. The misty impression materialises as he works, and
there grows under his hand a portrait which draws from us an instant
smile of recognition, broadening as we perceive the veiled humour
and satire that lurk beneath the skilful emphasis which has been
laid upon the subject's salient characteristics.
[Illustration]
But though his character studies are so largely the result of memory,
it must not be supposed that his drawings are hastily conceived or
carried out. As a discerning critic can guess Frank Reynolds is
slow and careful in his method, and though the central idea of a
drawing is frequently the inspiration of the moment, its elaboration
is a matter which occupies time, and the picture passes through
many stages before attaining in the artist's mind completion. To
lay readers it may be of interest to be initiated into the mystery
of the gradual development from germ to finished drawing. For their
benefit is reproduced (p. 24) the initial rough sketch made for
the portrait of "The Suburbanite," to which allusion has been made
above. It will be seen that all the essentials are there in a raw
state, and a comparison of this rough sketch with the finished
reproduction will give some hint of the patient labour and careful
thought which has gone to the making of the latter.
[Illustration]
To mix as an observer in all ranks of society--especially the lower
and more interesting ones--has always been to Frank Reynolds a
matter of reflective amusement. The comedy of life affords him
never-failing entertainment, for the world can never be dull to
the man with the saving grace of humour and a quizzical interest
in his fellow men. All is fish that comes to his net, for whether
he touches off the foibles of Belgravia or records the broader
humours of Bethnal Green he is equally happy. In the well-remembered
series of "Dinners with Shakespeare," for instance, he illustrated
with genial humour in half a dozen cartoons as many mannerisms
of the dinner-table. The drawing which is reproduced opposite to
page 56 portrays types that are familiar to all who know the small
restaurants of Soho. The historian of the future, I sometimes think,
who may wish to describe society in the early part of the twentieth
century, will be fortunate if he contrives to illustrate his volume
with a collection of contemporary drawings by Frank Reynolds. They
will speak more eloquently than any narrative which he may compile
from the most diligent searching of written records.
[Illustration: A TRAGEDY IN MINIATURE.
_From "Paris and Some Parisians"]
[Illustration: OUR CLUB.
IMPATIENT MEMBER.--Aren't there any waiters in the Club?
WAITER (_politely_). Yessir. How many would you like?]
_FRANK REYNOLDS._ IV.
Of Reynolds' exquisite refinement in the art of character drawing,
his pictures of life in Paris afford excellent examples. Impressions
of Paris through English eyes are familiar enough; but too often
they are distortions. The artist is too concerned with the obtaining
of an "effect" to be troubled by a strict adherence to truth. No
such charge can be levelled against "Pictures of Paris and Some
Parisians," as the series of drawings which Frank Reynolds contributed
to the _Sketch_ in 1904 was entitled. He viewed Paris through eyes
which magnified, perhaps, but never distorted; and his impressions,
as set down on paper, carry that instant conviction, even to those
who have never crossed the Channel, which is the hallmark of truth.
[Illustration]
In some cases these Paris drawings, many of which are reproduced
in the present volume, are literal portraits from life. But for
the most part they are the result of that close and absorbent
observation which has been mentioned as characteristic of the artist's
method. The "Pictures of Paris" were no hurried impressions received
during a flying visit, but the outcome of a long stay in the French
capital, which gave opportunities for a close study of manners,
and a sympathetic insight into men. Accompanied by two brother
artists, Reynolds, commissioned by his editor to depict Paris, betook
himself thither, and established himself for a considerable period
in a studio, whence he could watch and record. Under the guidance
of Mr. John N. Raphael, well known amongst Paris correspondents,
who contributed the clever literary sketches which the drawings by
Reynolds nominally illustrated, explorations were made not only to
those familiar haunts of which the names are known to the veriest
tripper, but into the heart of that Paris which is _terra incognita_
to the casual stranger.
[Illustration: FRIVOLITY.
_Time Sketch: London Sketch Club._]
Thus we have in these drawings a true Paris and the true Parisian--not
the traditional caricature which, though founded possibly on fundamental
facts, has been so elaborated as to bear no more resemblance to the
real thing than the libellous figure with lantern jaws, protruding
front teeth, and side whiskers, generally beloved of the French
artist, bears to the typical Englishman. Take, for example, the
drawing of French workpeople at dinner (page 8), made from a sketch
in a Belleville _café_. There is no exaggeration here, but a literal
transcript from life, which reveals, as it were, in one flash, a
whole epitome of town life in working France.
[Illustration]
Consider again his drawings of Parisian types. No portrait could
more nicely hit off the characteristic slouch of the _piou-piou_
(as Tommy Atkins is called in France), nor catch with more delicate
charm the personality of the French grisette of a certain type, than
the pencil drawing "Vive l'Armée" (page 49). Not less clever are the
pen-and-ink sketches of familiar types which surround the larger
figures on this last-named page--like them, the result of humorous
observation of many individuals. Reynolds tells quaint stories of
his adventures with the sketch-book in the pages of which are to
be found the hurried notes--often but a few strokes and scratches
intended to serve as a mnemonic--upon which his finished drawings
and sketches were based. Frequently he would stalk an imposing
Sergent de Ville, or Cuirassier with resplendent helmet and flowing
horse-hair plume, for miles along the boulevards, making furtive
notes, when opportunities presented themselves and conditions were
favourable, of the details of epaulettes, buttons, cuffs, and all
the other paraphernalia. In the same way his many sketches of the
Paris _cocher_ necessitated frequent drives in an open carriage,
during which careful studies could be made of the ample back of the
typical French cabman, and of the flowing folds of his usually
voluminous neck.
[Illustration: HAVING THE TIME OF HER LIFE.
_Sketched in a Paris Café_]
Allusion has already been made to the progressive method by which
Frank Reynolds evolves a finished drawing, step by step, from an
initial idea roughly jotted down with a few strokes of the pencil.
His draughtsmanship depends, as must of course all draughtsmanship,
very largely upon memory. But it is his practice, whenever possible,
to obtain notes on the spot for later use. This was especially the
case with his work in Paris, where a pocket sketch-book was his
inseparable companion. A few pages of the latter are reproduced
here, illustrating the artist's quick perception and the instant
sureness with which, notwithstanding the leisurely pace of his
work under normal conditions, he conveys the spirit of his subject
by means of a few lines. An excellent example of this faculty is
the sketch of the fat priest (page 53) and his hirsute companion,
admirable in the spontaneity of expression with which the fleeting
impression of a moment has been set down on paper. Equally vivid
is the impression conveyed by the hurried sketch of an old woman
(page 22) made at the stage door of a theatre. The boulevards of
Paris are excellent places from which to study the comedy of life:
and as an example of the peculiar flavour of Frank Reynolds' humour,
it would be hardly possible to better the irresistible sketch from
life, furtively made whilst sitting amongst the audience at a _café
chantant_, which, with a nice sense of the absurd, is labelled in
the sketch-book "Having the Time of her Life."
[Illustration]
Montmartre, as might be expected, yielded excellent "copy," to employ
a journalistic phrase. In the _cafés_ and _cabarets artistiques_
were made some of the portraits from life already referred to.
But though portraits of actual individuals, the models from which
they were made are in every case so characteristic, so closely in
keeping with their surroundings, that they serve nevertheless as
types, and the drawings in consequence make as direct an appeal
to the stranger as to one who might happen to be familiar with
the originals of them. In the famous Cabaret des Quat'-z-Arts was
drawn the exquisite pen-and-ink portrait on page 32, previously
alluded to, of "Georgette de Bertigny": under which name, for the
purposes of the sketch, the identity of a figure at one time very
familiar to _habitués_ of the Quat'-z-Arts is concealed. As comment
upon the depth of feeling which the drawing reveals, one may read
the pen picture which accompanied it:
Then Georgette de Bertigny steps out through the haze, and stands,
a tragic little figure, on the platform by the piano. Her hair and
eyes are ebon black; her face, thin lipped and pale, is like a
mask of ivory. There is no life whatever in it. She stands there
like a tragedy in miniature, her hands behind her back, unseeing,
motionless. Then, to a low, monotonously modulated melody, she
sings a song of utter misery and passion, and, as she sings, her
eyes and face light up. The mask of ivory gleams as though there
were living light behind it, and the sweet, low voice stirs us
as but few singers can. The music ceases. And the light behind
the ivory goes out again as Georgette bows her thanks for our
enthusiasm.
[Illustration: LE 'IGH KICK.
At the Moulin Rouge.
_From "Paris and Some Parisians"_]
It is trite to remark that comedy is akin to tragedy, and it is in
the natural order of things that an artist of so keen a perception
of the comedy of life should be able to strike with such truth and
precision the note of pathos or of tragedy.
[Illustration: A SPEECH AGAINST THE GOVERNMENT.
_From "Paris and Some Parisians"_]
The "Lapin Agile," a strange little _café_ in that "other Montmartre"
which the tourist knoweth not, yielded abundance of material to
Frank Reynolds' pencil. Needless to say, the curious may search all
Paris and find no such sign as that of "The Sprightly Rabbit," but
it is not impossible that some may recognise, under his disguise,
"Felix," the ruffianly but accomplished host, who was the model
for the sketch upon page 43, one of the happiest examples in the
present volume of the artist's skill in portraiture, as well as of
his rare technique in pen-and-ink. Equally happy is the sketch which
depicts "'Chacun' with his 'Chacune'" at the Moulin de la Galette
(page 13), in which the pose of the figures and the expression upon
their faces exhibit, if one may put it so, the very perfection of
naturalness. For a study of expression, again, it would be difficult,
or indeed impossible, to better the further of the two figures
in the drawing of "Le 'Igh Kick," made one night at the Moulin
Rouge. As to pose, could there be anything more exactly right than
the attitude of the gentleman "with bright-blue goggle eyes, and a
dress-shirt front in accordion pleats," who, on the occasion when
his portrait was made, had been to the races and backed a winner,
and was delivering "a long and extremely incoherent speech."
[Illustration: FELIX OF THE "LAPIN AGILE".
_From "Paris and Some Parisians"]
[Illustration: PICTURES OF PARIS AND SOME PARISIANS]