DOING THE OLD MASTERS.
(A SKETCH AT BURLINGTON HOUSE.)
In Gallery no. I.
The Usual Elderly Lady (who judges every picture solely by its subject). “No. 9. Portrait of Mrs. BRYANSTON of Portman. By Gainsborough.” I don’t like that at all. Such a disagreeable expression! I can’t think why they exhibit such things. I’m sure there’s no pleasure in looking at them!
Her Companion (who finds no pleasure in looking at any of them). No, I must say I prefer the Academy to these old-fashioned things. I suppose we can get a cup of tea here, though?
An Intelligent Person. “Mrs. BRYANSTON of Portman.” Sounds like a made-up name rather, eh? Portman Square, and all that, y’know!
[Illustration: “My dear fellow, as if it was possible to mistake his touch!”]
His Friend (with a touching confidence in the seriousness of the authorities). Oh, they wouldn’t do that sort of thing here!
A Too-impulsive Enthusiast. Oh, JOHN, look at that lovely tiger up there! Isn’t the skin marvellously painted, and the eyes so natural and all! It’s a Landseer of course!
John. Catalogue says STUBBS.
The Enth. (disenchanted). STUBBS? I never heard of him. But it’s really rather well done.
The Man who is a bit of a Connoisseur in his way (arriving at a portrait of Mrs. BILLINGTON). Not a bad Romney, that.
His Friend (with Catalogue). What makes you think it’s a Romney?
The Conn. My dear fellow, as if it was possible to mistake his touch. (Thinks from his friend’s expression, that he had better hedge.) Unless it’s a Reynolds. Of course it might be a Sir Joshua, their manner at one period was very much alike—yes, it might be a Reynolds, certainly.
His Friend. It might be a Holbein—if it didn’t happen to be a Gainsborough.
The Conn. (effecting a masterly retreat). Didn’t I say Gainsborough? Of course that was what I meant. Nothing like Reynolds—nor Romney either. Totally different thing!
IN GALLERY NO. II.
Mr. Ernest Stodgely (before JAN STEEN’s “Christening"). Now look at this, FLOSSIE; very curious, very interesting. Gives you such an insight into the times. This man, you see, is wearing a hat of the period. Remarkable, isn’t it?
Miss Featherhead. Not so remarkable as if he was wearing a hat of some other period, ERNEST, is it?
The Elderly Lady (before a View of Amsterdam, by Van der Heyden). Now, you really must look at this, my dear—isn’t it wonderful? Why, you can count every single brick in the walls, and the tiny little figures with their features all complete; you want a magnifying-glass to see it all! How conscientious painters were in those days! And what a difference from those “Impressionists,” as they call themselves.