Life — February 19, 1903 — page 10: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

154 nine women do. Still, you know best. What authors does she like? Barrie? Oh, laws, yes, Barrie’s out in great shape this year. “The Little White Bird.” Finest book since “Trilby.” I've read it three times, and on my fourth. My, if I get talkin’ "bout that book, I can’t never stop. You've seen it advertised? Well, I should say you had/ It's been ad- vertised too much. It's wicked to advertise a book like that, as if it was a common, old best-seller. Why, it's pearls before swine to make peo- ple buy that book who can’t appre- ciate it. Why, a lady come in here only this morning, an’ says she, “Have you got ‘The Little White Speckled Bird’?” I gave her one look an’ sized her up, an’ I said, “I guess you mean ‘The Speckled Bird’ without the white, ma'am,” an’ I give her that. You don’t know that book? Well, I guess you can live through that. It's by Augusta Evans Wilson, and it's a kind of a second hatchin’, that bird is. Why, Miss Evans, she used to write love stories when my mother was livin’ em. But “The Little White Bird,” oh, it's great! So sensible, and yet highfalutin, too, with Mr. Barrie himself stickin’ out everywhere between the chinks. You want to see some funny books? Y sir, we've got them. The two funniest are ‘Observations of Mr. Dooley” and “Confessions of a Wife.” Of course, you know what the Dooley books are, and this one is right up in line with the res' But that “Confessions of a Wife” , I nearly died laughin’ over it. a kind of an aquarelle—ain’t a salt water study?—for the weeps on every page, and twice on some. Between weeps she kisses any old clothes that come handy, and then she sits down and makes out in her diary a kind of a trained nurse chart of her symptoms —mental, immoral and physical. Not meant to be funny? N-no, I s'pose not, but it és all the same. that woman * LIFE = written over the kids’ shoulders. You don’t know what I mean? Well, the best of them are by Ken- neth Grahame and Miss Daskam, but they haven't had a whack at it this year. There are others, though, and “Emmy Lou,” by Mrs. Martin, and “In the Morning Glow,” by Roy Rolfe Gilson, are pretty good imi- tations. Most folks like “Emmy Lou” a heap. I must say she don't quite suit me, but it isn’t her fault. She's a dear little girl, and if that Miss Daskam had written about her, she'd have’been all right. But her author didn't know her very well, and, of course, that shows in the book. But, my goodness! if you want a hummer, get Kipling’s “Just-So Stories.” I don't believe there's any- body that wouldn't like that book. There's just one Kipling, isn’t there? The story in that book about the Cat Who Walked by Himself is worth the whole price of admission. I've read it till I know it by heart I guess Mr. Kipling must have been a cat once. But then he must have been a soldier, and a sailor, and a woman, and a ship, and a locomotive, and a wireless telegraph, too. You think your lady wouldn't care for that book? Well, of course you know more’n I do about that. Here's a set of Jane Austen. She's the great fad this year. Queer how fads come, isn't it? Now, nobody knows why, but all Austen such a lot. Of course, she’s got a touch, and she’s fine and quaint, but it’s all in the style. I must say I like some interest in the plot, too. Oh, you'll take Jane Austen, eh? And you'll take “Mrs. Wiggs,” too? Yes, I thought you would. Every- body does. I'm sure your lady'll like it first-rate. Have ‘em sent? All right. Good morning, sir; good morning. Now, ain't it queer there's such a few different kinds of ladies in the world? Readin’ ladies, I mean. I know that lady of his as well as if she was my own sister, and yet I've never laid eyes on her and never expect to. She's just this way: She'll like “Mrs. Wiggs” an awful lot, but she'll pretend she doesn’t; and she'll just hate to read Jane Austen, but she'll tell everybody she “simply adores her.” Carolyn Wells. Taste. HE weakness of the indictment which accuses the popular taste in art of being decadent lies in the fact of there never having been a popu- lar taste in art, ‘There has been a popular willingness to be bored in the name of art, which, in an age of commercial art, passes asily for artistic taste. If this be decadent, who but the fakirs will regret it? of a sudden every- body must read Jane Austen or they're not in it at all. Why, more’n half the ladies who fly in here and ask for Jane Austen think she’s a historic- al novel, like “Janice Meredith,” and they’re so surprised to find she’s half a dozen books. They buy the set, of course, but they go ont look- ing as if they had a Mr. Casey : 118, MB PRINDS; AWN THIS DAY, PEBROOARY THE TWINTY= SECOND, SIVINTEEN HUNDRED AND THORTY-TWO, WAS BAR-RN ORORGE WASHINGTON, WHO APTHERWARDS BECAME TUE PATHER AV TUE COUNTURY THAT ORY MIX BIRTH. Does your lady like child books? I don't mean juvenile books, you know, but stories for grown-ups, fearful big stunt ahead to read them. Me, I don’t like Jane comicbooks.com