Life — December 8, 1910 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

1072 Life’s Family Album James Montgomery Flagg O drop in through the roof of a New York studio is not always possible, especially when one’s aeroplane is fitted only for country flights. In Mr. Flage’s case, however, the thing was compara- tively easy, because his studio is spec- lly arranged for aeroplane visits and we fitted in very nicely. “Weill” we exclaimed, wishing to make him feel thoroughly at ease, and in spite of the fact that we had care- lessly tumbled over several full-length portraits on their respective easels, “how is Art?” “ Art!” he replied, “ what is that?” “Not know what Art is, when you are doing about three-fourths of all there is in the country!” we expostulated. “ Never heard of it.” We decided to approach him from a broadly human standpoint. “ What are you doing now?" we asked easily. “Drawing a picture,” he answered, finishing a couple of them and hanging them up to dry on the nearest tapestry. “Dear, dear! And how often do you do this sort of thing? “As often as I feel like it.” “ And you feel like it——?” “As often as I do it.” We felt that we were making no prog- ress. We desired to obtain some ex- plicit information about this extraordi- nary man, something that would com to our readers an idea of his versatility his power of caricature and his humor. Then we decided to refer everybody to his pictures, so well known, and let it go at that. 2 RPG « “When were you born?” we asked abruptly, just as if we were not at all disturbed about it and really didn’t care much, “I don’t remember, although I am told that I was present at the time.” “ Couldn't you refer to your diary and give us the date?” “Did you ever hear of a gentleman of my perspicacity and well-known com- mon-sense keeping a diary? Why, I don’t even keep a bank-book. I just go round there every once in a while with a truck and deposit what I think will last until- ” “Couldn't you give me an approxi- mate date?” “T have been told that it was in the month of June, 1877." “And the place?” Mr. Flagg was now plainly getting angry. “Are you not aware,” he exclaimed, “that I am the only contributor to Lire who was ever born in Pelham Manor, New York?” The fatal truth was out at last. “ And your education,” we stammered, “assuming, of course, that you have one.” We were beginning to have a feeling now that no explanation would be ade- quate to explain our conduct; and every- thing we said seemed to make matters worse. “Of course, we don’t mean that,” we hastened to add, with a weak smile. “ Of course, you are educated—all of our contributors are, But, have you studied —that is, are you an observer, have you thought, or reflected, and what can we say to convey the right impression: ee “Say nothing!” he exclaimed. “I would rather not have you.” “ But, it will never be held up against you. Those things are forgotten. The public remembers only your good work. The——” “Look here! I didn’t ask for this. You came without my knowledge. You have already taken up three or four cartoons’ worth of time. What are you driving at, anyway?" We turned on the engine and hastily made the hole in the skylight a little larger, so that we might make a digni- fied retreat. “Nothing,” we declared. “ We assure you that we meant no harm, You were born, That is sufficient. You are here. We thank you for it. Good-day.” He detained us severely. “Why did you enter?” he asked. “Come, now! Out with it Let there be nothing between us. This thing has gone far cnough.” SLANG ILLUSTRATED: IT WAS UP TO HIM. We looked about fearfully, There was no escape, except through the roof, and that was barred by a Flags angel. “We merely wished to convey some idea of your genius, of your methods, of your personality, for the readers of Lire,” we whispered. He motioned the angel aside, to give us room. “Tell them I will draw some more pictures and explain it all,” he re- plied. P. S.—Mr. Flagg is one of the most prolific illustrators of the present day. He draws pictures for a dozen maga- zines with one hand and illustrates the books of W. J. Locke with the other. He studied in Paris and England, but from our own observation we should say that he has learned more from himself than from anybody else; and if this is an ex- aggerated statement, we beg that he will forgive us. comicbooks.com