Homepage
Login
Profile
BookClubs
dmBox
Read Ebook: Prints: A Brief Review of Their Technique and History by Richter Emil H Emil Heinrich
Font size:
Background color:
Text color:
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page Prev Page
Ebook has 317 lines and 28832 words, and 7 pages
FLOWER AND FRUIT PIECE. Richard Earlom 114
THOMAS JEFFERSON. David Edwin 116
CHIEF JUSTICE MARSHALL. Asher Brown Durand 118
STILL-LIFE WITH THE PEACOCK. William J. Linton 118
PLATE FROM THE BOOK OF JOB. William Blake 122
HOME OF A PAINTER. Daniel Chodowiecki 124
INVERARY PIER. J. M. W. Turner 126
AESACUS AND HESPERIE. J. M. W. Turner 126
CHRIST DISPUTING WITH DOCTORS. A. v. Menzel 128
CARTOON ON LOUIS PHILIPPE. Honor? Daumier 128
MIDNIGHT REVIEW. Auguste Raffet 130
WOMAN CHURNING. Jean Fran?ois Millet 130
SUNSET IN IRELAND. Sir Seymour Haden 132
THE DOORWAY. VENICE. James McN. Whistler 132
LE PETIT PONT. Charles Meryon 132
DOM PROSPER GU?RANGER. Ferdinand Gaillard 134
GIRL BATHING. Anders Zorn 134
EXPULSION FROM PARADISE. Max Klinger 134
PRINTS
THEIR TECHNIQUE AND HISTORY
HOW PRINTS ARE MADE
Prints are familiar to every one of us, and yet the subject of prints is strangely unfamiliar. If we look at a painting, a piece of sculpture, or at a monumental building, we know how these things came into being. Without any effort we can see in our mind's eye the painter, with palette and brushes, applying the colors on his canvas, we can see the sculptor thumbing the clay model on the stand before him, with alternate gentleness and force, while the spectacle of stone-masons and bricklayers at work is a matter of daily occurrence. Likewise are we daily face to face with prints in our homes. They are familiar objects that have always been there; we are so used to them that we hardly see them. But have we ever conjured up, in our mind's eye, the vision of an engraver, or etcher, or lithographer at work making the print which is so familiar to us? It is a world, indeed, this field on which the energies of thousands upon thousands of men have been expended, expressive of the thoughts of great masters, expressive, yes, eloquent, of the changing mental attitude, the changing customs and interests of successive periods. There is no field, I am tempted to say, in all the realm of art, more comprehensive, more s in the distance, had escaped observation. Thus they had landed unseen. The spot was near the entrance to a small river or creek, which was partially concealed by the formation of the land and by mangrove trees.
Harold was the first to observe that they had not been cast on an uninhabited shore. While gazing round him, and casting about in his mind what was best to be done, he heard shouts, and hastening to a rocky point that hid part of the coast from his view looked cautiously over it and saw the natives. He beckoned to Disco, who joined him.
"They haven't a friendly look about 'em," observed the seaman, "and they're summat scant in the matter of clothin'."
"Appearances are often deceptive," returned his companion, "but I so far agree with you that I think our wisest course will be to retire into the woods, and there consult as to our future proceedings, for it is quite certain that as we cannot live on sand and salt water, neither can we safely sleep in wet clothes or on the bare ground in a climate like this."
Hastening towards the entrance to the creek, the unfortunate pair entered the bushes, through which they pushed with some difficulty, until they gained a spot sufficiently secluded for their purpose, when they observed that they had passed through a belt of underwood, beyond which there appeared to be an open space. A few steps further and they came out on a sort of natural basin formed by the creek, in which floated a large boat of a peculiar construction, with very piratical-looking lateen sails. Their astonishment at this unexpected sight was increased by the fact that on the opposite bank of the creek there stood several men armed with muskets, which latter were immediately pointed at their breasts.
The first impulse of the shipwrecked friends was to spring back into the bushes--the second to advance and hold up their empty hands to show that they were unarmed.
"Hold on," exclaimed Disco, in a free and easy confidential tone; "we're friends, we are; shipwrecked mariners we is, so ground arms, my lads, an' make your minds easy."
One of the men made some remark to another, who, from his Oriental dress, was easily recognised by Harold as one of the Arab traders of the coast. His men appeared to be half-castes.
The Arab nodded gravely, and said something which induced his men to lower their muskets. Then with a wave of his hand he invited the strangers to come over the creek to him.
This was rendered possible by the breadth of the boat already mentioned being so great that, while one side touched the right bank of the creek, the other was within four or five feet of the left.
Without hesitation Harold Seadrift bounded lightly from the bank to the half-deck of the boat, and, stepping ashore, walked up to the Arab, closely followed by his companion.
"Do you speak English?" asked Harold.
The Arab shook his head and said, "Arabic, Portuguese."
The Arab repeated the shake of his head, but after a moments' thought said, "I know littil Engleesh; speak, where comes you?"
"We have been wrecked," began Harold , "and this man and I are the only survivors of the crew of our ship--at least the only two who swam on shore, the others went off in a boat."
"Come you from man-of-war?" asked the Arab, with a keen glance at the candid countenance of the youth.
"No, our vessel was a trader bound for Zanzibar. She now lies in fragments on the shore, and we have escaped with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Can you tell us whether there is a town or a village in the neighbourhood? for, as you see, we stand sadly in need of clothing, food, and shelter. We have no money, but we have good muscles and stout hearts, and could work our way well enough, I doubt not."
Young Seadrift said this modestly, but the remark was unnecessary, for it would have been quite obvious to a man of much less intelligence than the Arab that a youth who, although just entering on the age of manhood, was six feet high, deep-chested, broad-shouldered, and as lithe as a kitten, could not find any difficulty in working his way, while his companion, though a little older, was evidently quite as capable.
"There be no town, no village, for fifty miles from where you stand," replied the Arab.
"Indeed!" exclaimed Harold in surprise, for he had always supposed the East African coast to be rather populous.
"That's a blue look-out anyhow," observed Disco, "for it necessitates starvation, unless this good gentleman will hire us to work his craft. It ain't very ship-shape to be sure, but anything of a seagoin' craft comes more or less handy to an old salt."
The trader listened with the politeness and profound gravity that seems to be characteristic of Orientals, but by no sign or expression showed whether he understood what was said.
There was something sinister in the man's manner which Harold did not like, but as he was destitute, besides being in the Arab's power, and utterly ignorant of the country, he thought it best to put a good face on matters, and therefore thanked him for his kind offer, and assured him that on reaching Zanzibar he would be in a position to pay for his passage as well as that of his friend.
"May I ask," continued Harold, "what your occupation is?"
"I am trader."
Harold thought he would venture another question:--
"In what sort of goods do you trade?"
"Ivory. Some be white, an' some be what your contrymans do call black."
"Black!" exclaimed Harold, in surprise.
"Yees, black," replied the trader. "White ivory do come from the elephant--hims tusk; Black Ivory do come,"--he smiled slightly at this point--"from the land everywheres. It bees our chef artikil of trade."
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page Prev Page