I
Picked Out A Medium-Size Painting Of No Particular Importance And,
Pointing To It, Said Impressively:
'Here, m'sieur, is a picture
worth a million dollars - without the frame!'
"'What's that?' he demanded excitedly. Then he called to his wife,
who had strayed ahead a few steps. 'Henrietta,' he said, 'come
back here - you're missing something. There's a picture there
that's worth a million dollars - and without the frame, too, mind
you!'
"She came hurrying back and for ten minutes they stood there
drinking in that picture. Every second they discovered new and
subtle beauties in it. I could hardly induce them to go on for
the rest of the tour, and the next day they came back for another
soul-feast in front of it."
Later along, that guide confided to me that in his opinion I had
a keen appreciation of art, much keener than the average lay
tourist. The compliment went straight to my head. It was seeking
the point of least resistance, I suppose. I branched out and
undertook to discuss art matters with him on a more familiar basis.
It was a mistake; but before I realized that it was a mistake I
was out in the undertow sixty yards from shore, going down for the
third time, with a low gurgling cry. He did not put out to save
me, either; he left me to sink in the heaving and abysmal sea of
my own fathomless ignorance. He just stood there and let me drown.
It was a cruel thing, for which I can never forgive him.
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